He didn't stop.
"Such a good girl," he murmured against me, voice low and rough, the vibration making me jolt. "So fucking wet already. You taste perfect, Marisol. I could stay here for hours listening to these pretty sounds you make."
Every time I gave him direction his control slipped a fraction — the tentacles around my thighs tightened, the ones in his hair pulsed and sucked gently at my nipples, ink blooming darker across his blue skin. I filed every reaction away like useful data I intended to use later.
The first time I came it was hard and loud, with his mouth sealed over my clit and his hair tentacles working my nipples and sliding against my entrance. I didn't manage the sounds I made. The shutters did nothing to contain them and I did not care even slightly. He held me through every pulsing wave, tongue and tentacles never stopping until I was trembling and gasping.
He waited, just long enough for me to come down a fraction.
Then he moved up my body — blue skin warm and solid against mine, his hands framing my hips, his hair tentacles still lazily teasing my breasts. Then I felt the thick, tapered head of his cock pressed against me.
He was huge. The flushed, blue length was massive, heavily ribbed along the top, slippery with his own warm slick, and so warm it almost burned as the broad head nudged inside me. Two more tentacles — equally huge, slippery, and pulsing with heat — slid between us, one circling my clit, the other pressing lightly against my ass, teasing.
"Good?" he asked, low at my ear, voice rough with restraint. "You're doing so well, Marisol. Taking the head already like you were made for it."
"So good," I breathed. "More. Give me all of it."
He gave me more.
He sank into me slowly, relentlessly, that huge ribbed cock stretching me impossibly wide with every slippery, warm inch. The ridges dragged against every sensitive place inside me, making my eyes roll back. At the same time one thick, slippery tentacle pushed into my mouth — huge and warm, filling me there too — while another slid deep into my ass in one slick, careful glide. Full. Everywhere. Completely taken.
The sound I made around the tentacle in my mouth was broken and filthy.
"Fuck, listen to you," he groaned against my jaw. "Such a perfect, greedy little thing. Taking my cock and two tentacles at once. You're squeezing me so tight I can barely move."
He fucked me with deep, powerful strokes that made the ridges on his massive cock catch and rub perfectly inside me while the huge tentacle in my ass moved in perfect counterpoint, both of them slippery and scalding hot. The ones in his hair kept sucking and stroking my nipples. The one at my clit circled faster.
I was loud. I was specific. I told him exactly how good it felt, how full I was, how I wanted it harder, deeper, more. Every word made his control fracture a little more — his thrusts got rougher, his tentacles pulsed thicker and hotter inside me, the ink spread darker across both of us until I was painted in shifting blue patterns.
“Maro,” I whimpered.
"You—" he growled against my jaw, wrecked. "When you say my name like that — fuck, you're going to make me fill you up. Such a good fucking girl for me."
I said it again. Louder. Filthier.
He lost the last thread of patience.
The rhythm turned punishing and perfect. His huge ribbed cock slammed into me, the ridges dragging relentlessly against that spot inside until I was screaming. The one in my ass thickened and stroked in time. I came again so hard my vision whited out, clenching and fluttering around every huge, slippery inch of him.
He fucked me through it without mercy, praising me the whole time. "That's it — come on my cock like that. So beautiful. So fucking wet. I'm going to give you so much, Marisol. Every drop."
When he finally came it was with a deep, guttural sound against my throat. His massive cock pulsed hard, floodingme with thick, hot spurts that overflowed almost immediately, leaking out around his shaft with every thrust. The tentacle in my ass swelled and pumped me full of ink too, warm and endless. He kept moving through every wave, filling me until I was dripping and overflowing with him.
By the time it was over I was completely undone. The ink covered me from throat to thighs, dark and living. His blue skin was almost fully black with it across his chest and shoulders. I was boneless against him, wrung out and glowing, soaked in him and still feeling it slowly leaking out of me as one of his tentacles traced slow, absent patterns on my hip like it physically could not stop touching me.
I looked at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe.
“You ok?” He asked.
I laughed and snuggled into him, not caring about the ink and cum mess we’d made.
I thought about this briefly and then I thought about his arm around me and the specific weight of it and how I had been tense for two years, how I had not noticed how tense until I stopped being it, and I thought: this is the most rested I have been in two years.
I fell asleep to the sound of the water and the warmth of him around me and I was pretty sure I knew what it meant.
Maro
Iwoke knowing something had shifted.
