The Art Of Getting Choked - And Not Even In The Kinky Way

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If someone asked you just over a week ago what you would be doing on your ideal vacation, you would probably say something along the lines of relaxing on a beach, maybe doing some rare guilt-free shopping, or perhaps even taking a stroll through the halls of an art museum. You would say these activities because the last thing you would ever expect to be doing on a vacation involved being repeatedly mounted by the God of Mischief and Sex.

Not that you were complaining.

Before you lost your virginity to Loki, you wouldn't be able to say having sex was really anything on your priority list. Of course, you had called out to him on that fateful Friday night so you could find someone to lose your virginity to - though you didn't expect that person to be Loki, of all people. But both of you knew that really, it wasn't about having sex. You wanted to feel wanted, and you felt sex was the key to that. It definitely helped.

Now, however, sex was all you wanted. You couldn't keep your hands off of Loki. He could just be sitting there, recovering from his latest orgasm, and you would already be climbing into his lap. And it always followed the same pattern - you would give him that sultry look, he would smirk, and nearly moments later his cock would slip inside of you.

Sometimes it took more than a few moments. Sometimes he made you wait. You didn't like those times.

You could handle a bit of teasing but Loki, you decided, was the king of having sexual patience. He could keep you on edge for what felt like hours and he thrived off of it. There was always a constant look of satisfaction on his face during those times, and you always cursed and swore to him that the moment he let you cum, you would strangle him.

You never did, but the threat was enough to make him chuckle at least.

But when you weren't having sex, you were doing what Loki said you would be doing otherwise: talking. You two talked a lot and there never seemed to be an exact pattern as to what was discussed. You went from discussing music to art to tipping at restaurants - which Loki didn't understand one bit because, quote, "darling, why am I paying them extra because their boss won't grant them a proper living wage? That is a crime! If I ruled Midgard, I'd abolish capitalism, I think" - to self-serve frozen yogurt. When you talked about that particular frozen dessert, Loki was able to calculate exactly how many combinations of flavors and toppings one could possibly make. It was somewhere in the millions, and as he did the math in head, you just stared at him in awe. That was becoming a little habitual.

The more you and Loki spoke outside of the bedroom - though, sometimes it was within the bedroom, you were rapidly becoming a sucker for pillow talk - the more you were seeing him for any other man. Albeit, this man was all-powerful, nearly immortal, and reigned over the carnal pleasures of humanity as well as the devious wickedness of the world, but he was still just a man. He had wants and needs, aches and pains, flaws and fractures that made up who he was. He was someone who knew war, who knew peace, who knew strength, who knew stability. He was a man who had walked these realms for a thousand years, and would walk them for thousands more. He was someone who could manipulate magic, create something from nothing, and told stories of how he became the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist.

But more than that, he was Loki. He was someone who hated mint but loved chocolate. He laughed at corny jokes and listened to songs ten times on repeat just because he enjoyed the way a single note had been sung. He listened intently, always nodding his head or narrowing his eyes, and he always thought before speaking. He got angry when you bit your lip and happy when you rested your head on his shoulder. He loved kissing the top of your head and perhaps loved it even more when you kissed the top of his - when you could reach it, that is. He was a pop-culture fanatic, a history buff, and an astronomy nerd. He likes his eggs well done and his steak still bleeding. He liked using magic for literally everything except taking your clothes off - he said he liked watching your skin slowly become revealed from underneath the layers of fabric you wore.

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