Branch pleasures Poppy with a vibrator which is being controlled by Gary.
It is not the first time Branch has had Poppy naked in their bed, bare skin on display while he sits between her thighs.
His fingers are light, teasing, rubbing slowly at her increasing wetness as he looks down at Poppy with his sharp gaze—the only difference between his eyes is the blown out pupil of his right, all the more obvious beside the flawless prosthetic of his left. Branch is still clad wearing just his usual shorts, only the button undone.
One of his fingers slides inside Poppy, meeting little resistance, and she tries to clench down on it—but it is not enough.
“Branch,” Poppy pleads. For what, she doesn't really know, for they both know that she enjoy this delicious slow torture.
“Mm.” Branch hums, merely beginning to move his single finger in her agonizingly slowly.
When he adds another Poppy attempts to sit up, to reach for him—
“No,” Branch says, pushing Poppy back down with ease. “I have something in mind.”
Poppy lays back and simply let him work her open with his hand, skin hot, burning, under his intense gaze. Poppy's soft pink eyes are closed when he removes his fingers.
Finally, she thinks. Finally, he’s going to fuck me.
Something presses at her entrance—something much different from the familiar sensation of Branch's hard cock. Poppy lifts her head to look.
Branch is still knelt between her legs, but he has not undone his shorts. In his hand is a new toy, which he is now rubbing against her slickness, lubricating it.
“May I?” Branch asks for permission, meeting her gaze.
Poppy swallowed, pulse pounding, as he presses the wide egg-shaped and hot pink toy inside of her, its long thin tail the only thing remaining outside.
The sudden sensation of being filled while her entrance itself remains feeling as if untouched pulls a confused moan from Poppy, her head falling back.
“Fuck,” Poppy whispered.
And then it starts pulsing.
Poppy gasps, raising her head to look at Branch with wide eyes. He smirks at her, hand trailing the inside of her thigh, Gary in his other hand, thumb moving across the buttons in time with the vibrations inside of her.
The pattern changes, and Branch begins to experiment, changing the speed, the intensity. It is not long before he has her torture down to a science, her body writhing, hips rolling against nothing as she gripped the sheets, bite her hand.
Poppy hears the sound of his shorts zipper coming undone, feel the mattress shift underneath her.
When she looks, he’s stroking himself. The vision of his pale skin slightly flushed over the chest, over his cheeks, and of his long pale fingers wrapped around the redness of his cock pulls a long filthy moan from her.
Branch starts edging Poppy with the remote in earnest.
“Branch, gah– oh, god, fuck–”
Branch growls, squeezing himself.
There’s a strange sensation, new, as if she’s are being stretched open from inside. When Poppy lifts her head to look down at Branch again, he had put gary aside, the toy on a pre-set pattern (later he will tell her, proudly, he made the pattern himself just for her). In his fingers is the thin pink tail of the toy.
Branch is currently tugging at it, not enough to pull it out, but enough to stretch at her opening, to let it sink back into her when she clenches down in arousal unintentionally.
He tugs again when she moans.
“Hm. Do you like this baby?” He asks, voice low.
Poppy nods, keening.
Branch releases his cock from his fist, picking up the remote control to turn it up higher, to pulse harder, even as he tugs on the tail.
“Oh, god, Branch –”
The strange sensation is too much, too overwhelming, and Poppy comes undone, hot exhilaration flying across her skin.
It isn’t the strongest orgasm he’s ever given her, however, and it leaves her wanting more.
When Poppy looked down at him he is fucking his hand, mouth open, preparing to release onto her stomach.
“Branch, inside me, fuck me, please,” Poppy begged.
Branch pulls the toy from Poppy, the brief stretch almost painful and certainly uncomfortable for a fraction of a second, but then he is lining himself up and he enters and–
Oh, what bliss.
Branch fucks Poppy roughly, deeply, thoroughly, body pressed to hers and hair on her skin, mouth on her shoulder, her neck, her ear. Branch is chasing his own high, possessed by primal need to fill her and mark her as his.
Branch soon drives Poppy towards her climax once more, this time white-hot pleasure burning through Poppy's very nerves with such strength it nearly hurts. It is all she can do to cling to the man above her, inside her, as she's tense and shudder and her hips convulse.
Branch follows close behind, fucking her through her intense orgasm with rough, desperate thrusts that become increasingly sloppy before a first, second, and third final slam of his hips drive him deep inside her with his own climax.
They both lay there, chests heaving, as the couple come down from their respective highs. Branch presses a soft shaky kiss to her shoulder, his hand smoothing down Poppy's side.
“Alright?” Branch asks, and Poppy rolls her hips languidly under him.
“Very,” Poppy confirms, and he groans at the feel of her around his over-sensitive length.
Branch finally pulls out, both of them making soft sounds. Poppy's own stomach lurches delightfully at the wet feeling of his cum mixed with her own sliding down her ass.
Branch smiles down at the sight, and if giddy was ever a word to be used to describe Branch, Poppy thinks now would be it. She just loves her man to the moon and back.
