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[?°] #003 Arlecchino | SMUT! Porn no plot.

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"Hugh... wait—urgh," you slurred, struggling to speak with the little amount of room she was giving you. "Let..me help."

Fortunately, she caught your grasp amidst the mess of arousal, easing slightly away from you. You take rapid breaths, inhaling and exhaling the air that has been sucked lifelessly out of you by Arlecchino. Once you deem that your consciousness is stable enough, you slowly lower yourself to your knees. Your eyes gaze up at her, your tongue darting out as your mouth makes its way to her zipper. With your teeth, you pull it down, revealing the wet patch of her boxers. Arlecchino groans when your tongue makes contact with it, licking and sucking the outline. Your skillful navigation is enough to get her cock even harder and throbbing controllably; it is practically begging her to release it from confinement.

Arlecchino prides herself on being composed when faced with any situation, but something about you—something about the way your tongue dances against her rock-hard cock—the image of you sucking it and being filled with it has her imagination going beyond heaven's forgiveness.

She grips a handful of your hair and uses it to shove you down to the cold floor. Any clothing blocking her from your entrance is torn apart, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her to absolutely destroy and consume. Arlecchino pulls out her enormous size of a dick, instantly fisting it with a gratified exhale.

You stare in a brazen manner, drooling at the bulk leaking pre-cum and the mere thought of it trying to fit inside your smaller frame; no more do you care for your virtually nonexistent dignity. Arlecchino groans at your expression, fisting herself faster and making her way in between you. God, why does a rich brat like you have to be such a fucking sight to marvel at?

"What a slut," Arlecchino mumbles, her once-controlled speech, and movement losing to the affray of lust.

Her patience runs thin and evaporates into nothingness. In one swift motion, she bends your legs beside your head, folding you into a piledriver position as her arousal peaks at its fullness. Without warning, she thrusts forcefully, penetrating you with a single, ravenous stroke.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of your hand, stifling a loud moan. Tears well up and cascade as Arlecchino's relentless pounding intensifies without a sign of stopping. She bends you further, her pulsating member probing ever deeper. Your body shakes violently, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. Your eyes find home at the back of your head in the intertwining of pleasure and pain, every thrust overstimulating your senses and sending shockwaves through the very core of your soul.

Arlecchino grumbled out incoherent words of satisfaction: The tightness of your gummy wall feels so goddamn good. How can she not lose herself in it?

Footsteps echo throughout the hallway of the saloon storeroom, shattering your erotic, fervent trance. Without delay, Arlecchino swiftly lifts you up, her member still heavily gaping at you all the while, as she hides both of you behind stacked barrels.

Your hearts race at the prospect of getting caught with her ball deep in you, in an aroused or frightened way you couldn't place your finger on it.

"Say, have you seen Father at all today?" A familiar young adult male voice comes through, one that you remember goes by the name of 'Lyney,' and decrypting from his questioning tone, he isn't alone.

"Mn... no, but... I think I saw her with that aristocrat earlier," another young, softer male voice answered the previous one's question.

Your breath hitches as you feel Arlecchino begin steadily dicking you again, building up the lost momentum without care. Arching upward, you clutch the back of Arlecchino's shirt, all the while biting into her neck to muffle the sound of your moans.

If at any given moment the boys decided to turn their backs, this little affair of yours would be easily exposed to their unfortunate sighting.

But you can't; you're so close—so, so close. You feel heaven in your eyes and your body as your head clouds with nothing more than blank whiteness.

Between gasps of inaudible, long, low sounds of sexual pleasure, you babble on about the closeness of your ecstasy. "I'm almost there," you breathe, her name half-forming: "Arle—"

Arlecchino suddenly withdraws, leaving only her tip to linger within you, tantalizing you by prolonging your climax. Then a formidable thrust from her hip surges forward. She plunges deep, her cock once more ball-deep, filling you completely. Her aim is precise and calculated because it strikes exactly at your g-spot, inflaming your core. With that perfect amount of force, your pent-up frustration unleashes in a paradisiacal orgasm.

"Huh, what is that sound?" Lyney's voice once again vibrated through the room.

Arlecchino seems indifferent to the fact that she could be caught fucking a noblewoman by her children. You share none of her collectiveness, cursing in panic after you calmed down slightly from your climax.

A young adult woman's call sounds through the corridor. "Lyney, Freminet? Where are you guys?" The boys' ears perk up, drawn to her searching voice. Their focus shifts from the strange sound that they heard to her distant one.

"In the storeroom! We're coming, Lynette!"

Hearing the sound of their retreating footsteps, you let out a breath of relief, the tension in your body loosing, or at least the most it can, before remembering that Arlecchino is still yet to finish her business with you.

Arlecchino forces you to stand upright; you may have reached your peak, but she has yet to have her ejaculation, and she is clearly frustrated, as evidenced by the way her eyebrows are furrowed, her darkened eyes, and the way her member is still pulsing with unsatisfied urgency. You brace yourself, knowing her restraint won't last long against the mounting pressure of her impending release.

"Lift your hip for me, sugar."

How you will cover up your messy appearance and the bruises and love marks she is going to leave on you is a problem for your future self to suffer through because right now the world is nothing more than a soundless void, and the only thing that matters right now is the way she feels around you.

How you will cover up your messy appearance and the bruises and love marks she is going to leave on you is a problem for your future self to suffer through because right now the world is nothing more than a soundless void, and the only thing that ...

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