NM After Dark - Favorite Body Part

Milo - Milo was drunk. He was always a bit more handsy when inebriated, loose in his inhibitions and letting himself unwind with each drink. By the end of the night, he was giggly and touchy, and I was the one he often set his eyes on. So it was no surprise when he fell through my window, kicked off one shoe, and came to bed.

“Hi,” he giggled, slipping under the covers. He was cold from trying to walk off the alcohol and my skin was bare beneath the sheets. His hands wandered towards my hips, pulling me towards him, thumbs pressing into the crease of my thighs.

“What time is it?” I murmured, running my fingers through his hair.

“Time for me to be in your bed,” he snorted. His nose pressed against me, tongue coming out to taste my skin, so very close to my center. “Couldn’t stop thinking of this.”

“Of what?” I asked, trying not to arch my hips into him.

“This spot right here,” he said, pushing his fingers into the dig of my leg a bit further. “Do you know, nothing turns me on more than touching you right here. Fingers on your hips, thumbs in the crease, pullin’ ya against me. Gets me every time, darlin’.”

“You’re drunk,” I laughed.

“Uh huh. And drunk me was not satisfied with the taste of whisky. Wanted this instead.” I felt my arousal building as he nosed around the area, placing small kisses and flicking his tongue out to taste me.

“Milo,” I gasped as he shimmied around, chin bumping against me just right.

“Shh,” he said from beneath the sheets. “Milo’s not home.” A gasp was stolen from my lips. Who was I to interrupt him.

Hazel - The smack came with a resounding crack, and my body shivered at the stinging pain that went through me. Looking over my shoulder, I was greeted with a full view of Hazel. Breasts heaving, thigh slick with her own release. Her pupils were dilated as she stared down at me, hand raised to smack me again.

“Was that too hard?” she panted, voice edging on concern.

I shook my head. “No. It’s fine. It’s–”

She spanked me again. She soothed it by rubbing the blushing spot with her palm, grabbing and squeezing my ass before smacking it again. “Look at you,” she breathed. “You’re getting so red. Does it hurt?”

“No.” It would tomorrow. I would barely be able to sit. And I was pretty sure that was the point. 

She draped herself over my back, grinding her pussy against me. “Your skin is so warm,” she breathed. I moaned loudly as she slid her soaked cunt across my skin, my skin stinging as she ground herself against my ass. “Have you been bad?” she giggled. “Need me to spank you again?”

Before I could answer, she spanked me again, burying her face in my neck with a wet moan. I felt her release against me, her body shaking hard. And I knew I would let her spank me every night if that was the reaction I got.

Gabriel - Pressed against the wall, I sucked in a deep breath, feeling Gabriel’s broad body against my back, his fingers ghosting down my sides. His breath was ragged, heart pounding, his cock a hard line against my lower back.

“I want you,” he whispered.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering close as he dragged his lips down my shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I just want you,” he said. I knew what it was, though. The shirt I was wearing was oversized, the collar worn out. I let it fall slightly down one shoulder, exposing my bare skin. I could feel Gabriel’s eyes on me the second it happened and tugged the shirt up, hiding my smile.

A few moments passed, the two of us working in silence. When it happened again, he was on me in a second. Like a moth to the flame. 

“That’s what got you, huh?” I whispered. “Just the shoulder?”

I could feel his belt coming undone as he fumbled between us, shoving his pants down past his hips until his bare cock was rubbing against me. He groaned wantonly.  “Leave the shirt on,” he whispered. “Right where it is.”

I laughed, letting the collar slide further down, and letting him have his way with me.

Belladonna - The candles were lit, but the light in the room was nothing more than a flickering, dim shadow. Belladonna had me shoved against the back of the couch, her legs straddling either side of me. She had her hands braced on my chest, nails digging half moon marks into my skin, as her lips grazed the side of my neck.

“You don’t smell of me anymore,” she pouted.

My heart skipped, the pulse of my blood thrumming through my veins as I felt her fangs pass lightly over my skin.

“What have you been doing, my heart?”

I swallowed, my body shuddering as she closed her lips around my neck, sucking. There would be a bruise there in the morning. Just over the scar that she had marked me with so long ago.

“I went out dancing,” I told her. “You weren’t there.”

“Oh,” she cooed. “Accusations, is it?” Dropping her hips down upon mine, she ground herself against me, her tongue laving at the crook of my neck. I couldn't think. I couldn’t speak. I only knew the smell of her. The threat of her teeth. And the desire to have her sink into me over and over again until I didn’t know my name any longer.

One hand coming up to cup the side of my neck, she pressed me closer. “Want me to bite you?” she whispered.

“Yes?” My hands rested on her ass, kneading the flesh there and feeling the way her skirt rose up.

“You know this neck is mine, right?” she whispered, one hand sneaking down between my legs. “That no one gets to touch this than me?”

I didn’t know if she was speaking of what she was fondling or my neck. The answer was the same no matter what. “No one has.”

“Good.” She sunk her fangs into me then, her free hand coming around to clutch my neck. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. And I was fine with dying in her arms.

Malcolm - Light bounced off our joined hands as Malcolm wrapped his fingers within mine and pressed them above my hand and into the pillow. He was panting over me, grinding the lower halves of our bodies together. Wet and slick, the air around us thick with the sounds of our pleasure. My legs wrapped around his waist and a gush of slick coated us both. His fingers flexed within mine and with my other hand, I brought it to his lips. He sucked two of my fingers into his mouth, tongue laving at the combined taste of our juices. I gasped, arching against him.

“You’re supposed to be drawing,” I told him.

“Learning the shape of your fingers,” he told me. Malcolm could fill entire books with the shape of my hands. But he never got enough of them.

“I need use of them if we’re going to continue,” I commented.

He shook his head, pinning both of my hands above my head. “I need them to stay there,” he told me, dipping his hips downwards. “I need to study the way they move and flex,” he whispered. “What makes your fingers curl into a fist. What makes them go rigid. I can’t draw you mid-orgasm if I don’t know what your fingers are doing.”

“My fingers want to be doing other things,” I told him.

He grinned at me. “Later,” he whispered. “Just let me enjoy.”