wriolette, chillette and neuvillette x zhongli

Neuvillette x Zhongli

Zhongli's body tensed at the first intrusion, his hand now sliding up the length of Neuvillette's forearm as eager digits delved inside of him. Slender as they were, it was easy enough, and with the added ease of Zhongli's slick they separated and while in a slim v shape they began to rub what lay between them. It was almost foreign now, this sensation, like it was the first time all over again. Zhongli thoughts ebbed and flowed, a battle between control and desire, his hips twitching with each coaxing glide along the appendage that began to grow inside him. He felt it first when the cool air hit him, the wet and warm clutches of his insides gone. His cock, now settling heavy against Neuvillette's chest, was darkly colored, smooth for the most part besides where ribbed, scale-like details spiraled to the pointed tip. Between them were faint glowing lines of ember orange, as though his desires themselves had manifested as molten lava in his veins. It wasn't over, though, as Neuvillette knew well enough.

With a little more tender affection from such well practiced fingers, Zhongli found himself panting quietly, looking down to see the strained rising and falling of his toned chest – but even further below he saw the second of his lengths emerge. Smaller than the first, thinner too, but still heavily it lay below the first and together they leaked cloudy, viscous beads of pre across Neuvillette's flushed skin. He was a generous lover already, Zhongli had noted, his hands diligent and unceasing in their duties to please. The soft tips of his fingers draw steady and slow, up and down, repeating their motions along the ridged lengths that sat against him and Zhongli couldn't help but to push shallowly into the touch, groaning at the friction so long unfelt.

"Please." He heard from below, quiet and tenderly patient, yet the syllable dripped so heavily with Neuvillette's unhidden desperation. Zhongli wanted as much as he did, he realized, the revelation numbing him for a moment until he found the will to chase what his body demanded of him. He could only hum a sound of acknowledgement, could only silently readjust their positions so that he knelt, as he had previously desired to, between pale thin thighs.

With a controlled wave of his hips he felt how Neuvillette's soaked cunt fluttered against him, how he clenched and desired so openly for the cock that slid so easily across the plumpness of his folds. Zhongli had intended not to stretch him too furiously to begin, had thought only to manage his heat with the pressure of his lower length, manageable and as good as any other. Yet he found Neuvillette reaching between them, gliding his fingers with ardent adoration along the fuller of his cocks, teasing the palm of himself against the top so that Zhongli was caught rutting between the softness of his palm and the dampness of his cunt.

"Neuvillette." He warned, the rumble of the other's name like the barreling shock of thunder.

"I can take it." It was like a plea, a statement so desperately spoken that it seemed it was meant to convince the both of them. The delicate fingers of one hand spread himself, pointer and middle making a salacious v that held Neuvillette's pink lips wide, so that Zhongli could see just how wantonly his walls flexed around nothing, the hunger he couldn't verbalize laid out for him to see. His own low voice rumbled with every salacious admittance he allowed himself to make, "I have to take it. Zhongli, I need it."

His unoccupied hand found the base of him, guided the tapered tip to glide across himself, from top to bottom and back again, letting Zhongli dip sweetly quick into the clenching of his hole for just a moment. It was not just difficult in that second to resist the pull of him, but it became an objective impossibility. There was no rational thought left in the archon's mind, then, only the thoughts, heated and dark, of filling Neuvillette until he cried.

The first tantalizing slow push is like the first spread of wildfire. It's faster than he thinks it is, the sinking, but it burns him slow and thorough, until he's nothing but the ash left behind. Neuvillette stutters a cry that breaks into silence, his low voice hitched into soft keening as Zhongli eases him open beautifully. The man's back is arched from the bed achingly high, his tail thrashing to the side as Zhongli stretches him down and down until Neuvillette's slit is tight around his hilt, oozing slick and precome as if either of them had already found their peak.