Work Text:
Aeons, just what kind of spell had you cast over Sunday?
He should not be doing this. He knew he should definitely not be doing this but he just couldn’t help himself any longer. The second he had spied a pair of your lacy underwear sitting innocently on top of your laundry hamper, something stirred deep inside the pit of his gut. He had hesitated, until his fingers wrapped around lacy material and he snatched it away for nefarious purposes.
He silently berated himself for his previous actions, a soft voice tickling the back of his mind that became a distant echo the harder he pumped his closed fist up and down his slicked cock. A soft whimper stirred in the back of his throat, his cock twitching against his fingers at the mere thought of you as a trickle of pre-cum dribbled from the head of his dick and coated his fingers in sticky threads. He had tucked himself into a dark, little corner of his room as he rutted his hips up into his fist, unable to control his lustful thoughts nor his actions as he let instinct guide his hand.
Just what would you think of him if you were to catch him in this shameful act? Humping his fist like an animal in heat with a pair of your panties balled up in his other hand and pressed just under his nose? His wings fluttered, soft white feathers fluttering over the hot skin of his cheeks as they covered his flustered face out of habit. He pressed the seam of his lips into a wobbly line, trying to contain the pathetic noises that desperately wanted to crawl out of the back of his throat. He huffed softly, burying his nose deeper into the material of your panties stuffed in his hand. His mouth hovered over the seat of your panties, right where your fat, juicy cunt would sit.
The thought made him shudder, pleasant tingles racing along the curve of his spine as he arched his back. How pathetic the head of the Oak family, to fall so far from grace. Perhaps it was why he hid himself in the dark to comfort his shame. Every time he thought about stopping, he caught a whiff of your scent and he would bury his nose deeper into your panties, huffing in raggard gasps of air like he needed the sweet scent to breathe properly. His wings continued to flutter bashfully, hiding his eyes and obscuring his face as he continued to rub his swollen cock with haste.
He needed to be a bit more quick about this. The other passengers of the Astral Express were to meet soon to discuss their next trip. And he refused to be late.
"Ah...Ah..."
His throat bobbed as the palm of his hand circled the head of his cock, the leaking tip wetting his warm skin as the pleasurable knot in his stomach twisted tighter. More twisted, perverted thoughts of your sumptuous figure invaded his mind, making his knees weak as thoughts of you continued to plague him. It made him feel a pang of guilt twist in his chest, only to be quickly overridden by his insatiable lust for you. You were more than just an object to him, not some toy that he could pick up and use as he pleased. No, you meant more to him than that. But his lust ridden brain was starting to blur the lines in all his pent-up, sexual frustration.
He wanted to know just how soft your plush skin would be beneath his hands, to feel the soft pudge slip between the gaps of his fingers as he squeezed your plump hips and soft stomach. He ached to dance his fingers along your plush thighs, feel his fingertips sink and squish into your thick thighs as he traced them along your curves. He had to shove his bottom lip between the pinch of your teeth when he started to think about more private parts of you, intimate secrets that you’d only allow your lover to see. And oh, how he desperately ached to be that lover. To know how soft your breasts were and how pink your nipples would flush from his ministrations. He wanted to spear his fingers through your slick, chubby folds and feel your fat, fervid cunt drool around the press of his fingers as he buried himself in wet heat.
His thoughts were making his head spin in a tizzy as he let go of his trembling lips, letting out a harsh cry of pleasure before stuffing the material of your panties into his mouth. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, even when his drool soaked into the material and he could taste something divine lingering on the tip of his tongue. His fair lashes fluttered wildly over his bashful cheeks, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head at the divine sensation of his encroaching orgasm ensnaring him in its web. His fingers rubbed against his cock harder, feeling it pulse against the palm of his hand as the round head bobbed and blushed beet red, seconds away from exploding.
Tears of unadulterated pleasure dripped from his soused lashes like a constellation, staining the hot skin of his cheeks as his fluttering wings around his head created a gale. His heart was somewhere lodged in his throat, his stuttering hips finally coming to an abrupt halt when the coil inside of him finally snapped. White hot euphoria flooded his veins with relief, his hot moans muffled around your panties still stuffed in his mouth and absorbing his saliva. Ropes of his warm seed spilled over his fingers when he came, fingers rubbing at the flushed head as it steadily dripped out of his weeping cock and stained the soft skin of his shaking thighs. He toyed with his cock a little more, even after his orgasm was long over and felt the sting of overstimulation. It made his blood simmer in his veins to touch his sensitive cock like this, wringing out the last dregs of his pleasure until he felt completely bled dry.
It was only in the aftermath of his pleasure did he finally come to his senses. He peeled open his hazy eyes, finally finding a little clarity as the gears in his head started turning again. He winced as he slowly pulled your used panties from his mouth, cradling it in his hands as he stared at it for a long moment. When it finally clicked in his head what he had done, he felt an instant wave of regret. He sputtered scrambling to sit upright, reaching for the tissue box to clean up the mess he made on himself before it could spill further. The whole time he did, he fretted over what he was supposed to do now with your underwear.
He had “borrowed” them, nicked them out from under your nose like a wretched little thief. And now look at what he had done. They were completely soaked in his drool. What was he supposed to do with them now? Should he sneak them back into your clothes basket and hope you don’t notice? Should he simply just chuck them out and pretend to not notice when you went looking for something that should never be found? Or should he go down another route and simply just…keep them? Hide his shame in a dark corner of his dressing cabinet and only bring them out for his naughty delight? Each option in Sunday’s mind was more daunting than the last and he was going to have to bear the consequences of his own actions, no matter which path he chose.
He didn’t think he could look you in the eye at the moment or he feared something inside of him may just crack. A difficult task, considering the meeting he had been fretting over was about to start in a few minutes.
He was already bearing the weight of his own actions.