Oh My God I Had To Screen Record This Because I Needed To Show U Guys So Bad And If I Linked It I’d

full size images of luigi’s tinder

Omg.

omg I saw this post and immediately drafted something… here’s a lil drabble ^_^ credit to the anon because I’ve stolen your idea and turned it into this :’)

@diors002 I love you because I can’t stop thinking about that picture of him looking up..

🍓

NSFW: p in v sex during second trimester of pregnancy, breastfeeding, lactation kink

The night had been slow and dreamy, one of those evenings where everything just felt perfect. After work, Luigi had cradled you in his arms as you cooked dinner, all broad shoulders and warm hands, voice soft and soothing as he told you about his day.

You fed him lasagna — simple enough, but he moaned like it was gourmet because his wife had made it. Afterward, he sat on the couch with your swollen feet in his lap, strong hands kneading gently, eyes drifting to your bump and your chest with that look that hadn’t left his face in months: awe, pride, hunger.

Eventually, the two of you had moved to the bedroom.

Now you’re here, on top of him, slowly rocking your hips, swollen belly rising and falling between you both. The sheets pool around your waist. Your body is flushed and glowing, dim light golden across your skin. His hands are everywhere — palming your ass, stroking your thighs, but mostly… your breasts.

He’s obsessed. Has been for weeks.

Luigi groans softly, mouth hot and open over one of your nipples, sucking lazily, like he could stay there forever. “They’re so full, baby,” he breathes, voice muffled. “So heavy.”

You giggle breathlessly, fingers threading through his curls. “Feels good — they’ve been so sore.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling deeper.

He kisses down, then sucks again, harder now. You gasp, rocking a little faster, your body aching and oversensitive in all the right ways.

And then— suddenly you feel it. A warm, soft pressure… then a trickle. Luigi pauses. Freezes, actually.

He pulls back a little and blinks. You both glance down at the same time where a small wet patch glistens on your nipple.

Your eyes widen. “Oh—”

Luigi’s mouth falls open a little. He looks stunned. A drop of milk glistens on his bottom lip. His hazel eyes dart up to you — doe-eyed, boyish, totally gone.

“Luigi, what…” you start, breath catching. “What is — did I just…?”

His cock twitches inside you. Hard.

And instead of finding it strange and pulling away — he moans.

Then he leans back in. And sucks even harder.

You gasp, completely dumbfounded, hands on his shoulders as he latches on like it’s the most natural, necessary thing in the world. He’s all flushed and breathless and his hands are gripping your hips tighter, rolling them against his lap again like he can’t decide what he wants more — your tits or your pussy.

“Luigi—” you whisper, shocked and turned on and slightly overwhelmed. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at you, lips wet and pink, milk at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded and reverent. “Tastes good,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Perfect, bambina… so sweet.”

You just gaze down at him, mouth slightly open, thighs trembling.

And then you bounce again, slow and deep, watching his pupils dilate as he cups your breasts, mouth returning to suck at the other nipple like he needs it.

The mix of sensation — your body filled, your chest heavy and leaking, his cock twitching inside you — it’s overwhelming in the best way.

You moan, breathless, hands tugging at his curls now. “Fuck, Lu — that’s it, baby, ‘m so sensitive.”

He just hums against your skin, the noise vibrating against the nipple he’s currently attending to.

“I want this with you forever. Wanna give you more of my babies. Stay buried in you. Taste you like this and keep you full.”

You shiver, overstimulated and melting.

This becomes your thing together. After a long day, when he’s tired, craving his wife, and you’re sore and achy, you’ll ride him in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the sheets as he sucks from you. He eases the needy and uncomfortable ache, nourishing himself equally in such deep intimacy.

Every couple of new crumbs we get means we’re one month closer to hopefully seeing more of Luigi at his next appearance🙏🏽

after reading kfa’s new motion

Soft Spot Pt. 2 ~

summary: spring break trip to cabo, luigi gets wiped out, and you’re sent to help him ;)

content warning: smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, luigi gets bruised

an: hi!! thank you to everyone that liked, shared, and commented on part 1!!!! also thank u to my homie palmersluvr for help with the formatting tho im still figuring it out. idk the word count but this shit is sooo long but i had so much fucking fun writing this so i hope you all enjoy :)! take a shot for every single time i said “rhythm” lol.

part 1

————————

weeks passed, and despite the playful texts shared between you and luigi, he wasn’t able to come back for a second “appointment”.

not because he didn’t want to. but because midterms had everyone busy— especially him.

sleep schedules were fucked up, group chats barely active, and every inch of the library taken over by students running on iced coffee.

luigi had practically disappeared— only proof of his existence being the many students that he tutored making jokes about how their TA had a spot reserved in heaven for all the hard work he’s done for them.

and yet, despite the chaos, there hadn’t been a single mention of back pain from him or his friends.

if anything, everyone noticed he seemed lighter. maybe your hands really had worked some sort of magic.

and eventually you were all able to taste the sweet freedom of spring break. friends of friends all headed to cabo for a well deserved get away.

instagram buzzing with photo dumps of tan lines and tiny bikinis, camera roll full of coconut drinks, beach sunsets, and grainy late-night dinners.

the resort ridiculously beautiful— picked out by luigi and others. shady palm trees stretching over the infinity pool, balconies overlooking the ocean, music a constant hum in the background no matter the hour. every corner full of beauty.

spending mornings with your girls walking the shoreline, tucking cute little seashells into your beach bag. afternoons spent exploring, wandering through colorful local markets, vendors beckoning you over in spanish, taking polaroids of everything. chaotic dinners with messy seafood platters, one too many margaritas, and tables full of friends cramming in every space they could.

and always, luigi was there, lingering just close enough to keep you on your toes. the flirting having been buried under study guides and endless cups of coffee— but not entirely gone.

you felt it in the way his eyes lingered on you in your sundresses, in the way he saved the empty chair next to him for you, in the way your fingers would brush when passing certain items across the table, yet neither of you said anything.

it was the kind of tension that hung in the air without needing to be addressed aloud. sweet, aching, and unbothered— until it wasn’t.

all the boys had decided to go out early that particular morning to catch some waves, lugging huge surfboards down to the beach while you and the rest of the girls stayed behind for some late brunch at the resort cafe.

you were mid-bite into a piece of french toast when someone burst into the outdoor patio, face red and out of breath.

“luigi wiped out bad on a huge wave,” they panted, trying to catch their breath, “board slammed him in the back, he should be okay, but he’s out for the day. they took him back to the room to rest.”

your stomach dropped. you honestly didn’t even realize how much you’d been hoping he’d show up that day, maybe just for lunch or just to sneak a few glances at you.

“can someone go check on him?” one of your friends asked, glancing around the table. “he’s probably fine, just milking it. but still.”

many of them shrugged, too caught up in their delicious breakfast food or downing their drinks to volunteer.

“you’re the nicest one here and have the expertise,” another added, pointing her fork at you with a smile. “can you go make sure he’s still breathing? im sure he won’t bite.”

they didn’t know. shit, nobody knew about you two. and so you nodded, wiping your hands on a napkin and standing slowly.

you headed back to your room first— not wanting to show up empty-handed. grabbing some essentials from your suitcase like some peppermint oil, aloe vera, the same lotion you used on him in your dorm, all thrown into your tote bag.

when you stepped back out into the hallway, one of the guys had caught up to you and handed you a spare key card.

“he’s in one of the oceanfront suites so i figured you might need this since he’s probably bed ridden”

you mutter a thank you and walked a few doors down the hallway. with the door clicking shut behind you, you stood still for a second, just admiring.

everything was nicer, sleek, clean, and expensive. the king sized bed resembling a cloud , a perfect plush comforter thrown over. floor to ceiling windows letting in sunlight that kissed every surface in gold, and a soft sea breeze drifting in through his open balcony door. and then there was a hot tub, massive and polished. half sunk into the floor near the balcony, something out of a dream.

your breath hitched.

“luigi?”

you called out gently, stepping further into his room. and then you saw him.

sprawled out across the bed, shirtless, eyes half closed, with a pillow or two tucked under his lower back.

his swimming trunks were riding low, dangerously low. low enough that your eyes traveled down the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach— the one you didn’t get to appreciate too much before.

your fingers clenched slightly around the strap of your tote bag, heart skipping a beat.

“…hi.” he replies softly and shyly.

you don’t say anything at first, tossing your bag on the dresser and kicking off your sandals without a second thought.

the bed dips slightly under your weight as you carefully climbed up beside him, leaning in slowly, one hand going to cradle the side of his face, your fingers instinctively tangling themselves in his curls, scratching his scalp softly.

“what the hell happened?” you murmured, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “how bad is it?”

he leaned into your touch just a little, lashes low and heat radiating off of him.

“hurts like a bitch,” he admitted, lips twitching into a tired grin, “but seeing you kind of helps.”

you rolled your eyes, but your thumb still stroked gently over his cheek.

“you’re such a baby,” you muttered, “let me see.”

he blinked up at you, hesitant. you pull back enough to sit on your knees, glancing down at the way his arm was draped over his stomach.

“come on, turn over so i can see, or do i need to do it for you?”

he grumbles something about you being bossy, but shifts anyway to let you get a good look. wincing slightly as he moved his arm, revealing an angry red mark blooming across his lower back and side— already beginning to bruise, dark and raw.

you sucked in a quiet breath.

“jesus, luigi…”

you reached for your tote bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the lotion and peppermint oil, warming it up in your hands.

“this might sting a little,” you warned.

“i trust you,” he murmured, eyes falling closed again.

your hands pressed carefully to his skin in slow, gentle circles at first, barely any pressure. and his breath hitched, not from pain, but from you and how you knew exactly where to touch without asking.

you kept your focus low, jaw clenching and unclenching, pretending not to notice the way his hips twitched slightly when your palms smoothed along the curve of his waist.

“relax,” you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

your fingers moved in slow, practiced motions, the familiar rhythm calming the both of you. he was quiet under your touch, face buried into a pillow, muscles slowly uncoiling under your hands.

“you’re so dumb,” you said gently, a little laugh slipping out. “what were you even trying to do? show off? impress the ocean?”

luigi letting out a small groan and barely lifting his head mumbles, “was tryna ride the wave,” his words slurred with exhaustion and comfort.

you pressed your thumbs in a little deeper to the sides of his bruises, careful but firm.

“and it rode you huh?”

“mhmmm…”

you smiled, shaking your head, continuing— moving a bit lower, tracing along the edges of his blooming bruises. he let out a low whimper, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, his fingers slightly curling into the sheets.

“seriously gi,” you murmured, softer now. “you could’ve really hurt yourself.”

“m’sorry,” he breathed, voice small now. “didn’t mean to.”

you leaned down just a little, hair falling over your shoulder as you whispered near his ear. “you gotta stop being reckless. who’s gonna fix you up next time if i’m not around?”

his only answer being a quiet, needy whine— his head tilting slightly towards you.

and with you leaning over him like that, face being close and hair brushing his skin, he lifted his chin just enough to press his lips to yours. soft and tentative. you froze just for a second, then kissed him back just as gently.

you’re the first one to pull away, giving his hair a light tug. “you better behave,” you whispered, breath warm against his mouth. “or i won’t finish your massage.”

he grinned, lazy and dazed. “im behaving,” he mumbled, already slumping back into the pillow like your kiss was enough to sedate him.

you scooped up a little more oil into your palms and worked quietly for a few more minutes— slow and careful movements over the bruising, his muscles loose now.

and then, a soft murmur:

“i think my back’s good now… think you could get my shoulders?”

…

“…and maybe my chest too?”

you smirked and glanced down at him.

“whatever you want princess”

he began to turn over, shifting on his side with a groan, but as you were about to guide him onto his back—

“wait not like this.”

before you could even reply, his hands slid over your hips and in one quick motion, he brought you right into his lap.

you let out a quiet gasp, straddling him now, palms braced on his bare chest as he looked up at you— eyes dark and blown out.

“like this.” his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t say anything, just swallowed hard and nodded once. your fingers dipped back into the oil, rubbing it between your palms to warm it up before sliding your hands over his chest.

he was pretty still beneath you, save for the tiny shifts of his body. sharp inhales when your thumbs pressed into his skin, the subtle twitch of his thighs when you pressed too low.

“shit,” he breathed, voice hitching higher this time, soft and strained. “feels so good…”

your hands moved to his shoulders, thumbs circling into tight knots just beneath his neck. it was a bit of a stretch from your spot in his lap, so you leaned forward, your chest brushing against his, your breath grazing his jaw.

and then his lips found yours again, lazy and slow. he kissed you without urgency, one hand sliding to the small of your back, and the other on your thigh, trying to keep himself grounded.

you kissed him back, just as slow. before pulling away slightly, catching your breath, and going back to his shoulders as if nothing happened.

he groaned again, though not from the massage this time.

“not fair,” he muttered.

you laughed under your breath, going back to press into a particularly tight spot behind his shoulder blade.

“too bad.”

you leaned back down, lips finding his again and this time it gets heavier. his mouth opened beneath yours, teeth dragging your bottom lip between his, and his hips shifting beneath you.

he groaned into your mouth, deeper, and then—

his hips rolled up. just once. slow, instinctual, and desperate.

he sighed, lips parting as he dropped his head back into the pillow, his chest rising and falling fast under your palms.

“fuck…”

you didn’t move at first. just stayed still in his lap, enjoying the rise of fall of his chest. and then softly, you leaned in again.

you kissed the corner of his mouth— a gentle peck, then another, and another. then along his jaw. then that sensitive spot just below his ear, that always makes him shiver.

you worked your way down slowly, kissing along the edge of his throat, his collarbone, your mouth lingering all over as he tilted his head back to give you more access.

“baby…” he whispers, his voice wrecked.

his hands slide up your sides, slow and kinda unsure. when his fingers brushed the hem of your swimsuit coverup, you let your arms fall to your sides, silently giving him the permission he wanted.

he sat up slowly, groaning softly at the movement and peeled the fabric from your body in one slow motion, letting it fall somewhere in the room.

then his fingers reached the tie of your bikini top. he tugged at it gently, watching you the entire time. when you didn’t protest, he undid the knot with shaky fingers and let the top slip away.

his breath hitched.

“fuck, you’re—“

he didn’t even let himself finish before his mouth was already on you. soft kisses at first, then his lips closed around the swell of your breasts, tongue flicking, hands pressing you closer to him as you arched your back.

your quiet gasp became a whimper.

“oh…”

his groan followed instantly. he sucked a little harder, peppering warm, open mouthed kisses near your nipple.

“ you sound so pretty,” he mumbled against your skin. “don’t stop.”

then, without another word, he took your nipple into his mouth, gentle and almost hesitant at first. his tongue swirled around it, his lips closing in a tight, wet seal as he suckled, like you were his favorite lollipop.

you let out a sharp little moan, surprised by how sensitive you were and how good it felt to have him care for you as well. he groaned in return, the sound vibrating through your chest.

his hand slid up your spine, holding you steady as he moved over to your other nipple, showering it with the same attention— his tongue flicking, lips tugging just right to make you whimper again.

you threaded your fingers through his curls, breathing uneven, your thighs tightening around his hips as his mouth latched onto you. each moan that escaped your lips, pulled a groan from his— almost like he couldn’t help it, like your sounds were enough to unravel him.

your hips started to move before you even realized with small, slow rolls against his lap, the friction sending sparks between your thighs with every pass.

luigi’s breath hitched.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, thumbs brushing over your bare skin as he tried to ground himself, his eyes fluttering shut as your bodies rocked together in a lazy rhythm.

“fuck… that feels so good,” he murmured, forehead resting against your chest.

your fingers carded through his curls, your lips brushing over the top of his head, all tender and affectionate while your hips kept working him over.

but then—

a sharp inhale.

“ah- shit-“

he winced, body tensing up beneath you, and you froze instantly.

“your back?” you whispered.

he nodded, jaw clenched, and brows drawn tight.

“just moved a little weird, m’okay,” he exhaled, trying to wave it off.

you shook your head and cupped his cheek.

“nope. lay down babe. let me take care of you.”

he didn’t argue. just sank back into the pillows with a groan, arms falling to his sides like he had no fight left.

you kissed down his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate. letting your mouth explore every inch of his skin, from the curve of his pecs to the soft dips between his abs.

he was already breathing harder by the time you reached for the faint trail of hair leading down— that happy trail you admired earlier.

you licked a slow stripe down it and then another, watching him twitch slightly under you. his hips shifted again, his swimming trunks now tented and clinging low to his hips.

you hooked your fingers into the waistband, tugging them down in one smooth, letting him spring free, the weight of him softly slapping against his lower abdomen. his hissed, not from pain, but from need.

you hovered above him, eyes locked on his face as you leaned down and gave him a single, teasing kitten lick across the tip.

he groaned, loud and frustrated.

you did it again, this time even slower. and then another, barely brushing his sensitive underside.

his hips flexed, but you pulled back just in time, smiling softly.

“be patient,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

you kept it at that— delicate little licks of your tongue that barely counted as relief. just enough to make him squirm, to make him whine, to keep him right there on the edge.

“please,” he gasped, hips twitching upwards only for you to press them down.

“please, i can’t— i need—“

but you didn’t give in. instead, your hands held his hips steady, fingers digging into his warm skin, and your tongue tracing lazy circles around his sensitive tip.

another kitten lick, then met with a breathless groan.

he was shaking now, head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his composure. his thighs tensing under your touch and his voice falling into almost incoherent whimpers.

“amore, please— im gonna—“

and then he did.

luigi’s whole body arched beneath you with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he came hard against his stomach, all hot, messy, and sudden.

you kept going, soft and unrelenting, licking up everything he gave you with gentle care. every flick of your tongue making him twitch and sigh, oversensitive but too far gone to protest.

once you had cleaned him up, you leaned in close and pressed a tender kiss right to his tip. he let out a breathless laugh, eyes glassy and lips parted.

you smiled, resting your head just above his hips as you looked up at him, taking him in. you stayed like that for a bit, fingers tracing light circles on his thigh as he caught his breath.

his chest rose and fell in soft waves, his skin still flushed and forehead a little damp with sweat, lips parted in a dazed smile.

you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his abdomen, another to his chest before moving upwards to curl into his side. your palms smoothed over his stomach, resting there while your nose brushed his jaw.

“how’s your back?” you whispered.

he chuckled weakly, still breathless, “honestly? im not even worried about it anymore.”

you scoffed and giggled into his neck, letting your fingers shift lower again, brushing over the curve of his hip.

then he turned his head, eyes burning behind the softness they had.

“let me return the favor,” he murmured. “please.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“luigi…”

but he was already moving. hands finding your bikini bottoms, fingers sliding against the strings at your hips as he untied them, tossing the fabric somewhere into the room.

his voice was hoarse, low and pleading.

“wanna taste you. been thinking about it since the day you made me take photos of you in that tiny bikini with your polaroid on the beach.”

you didn’t argue with that and let him guide you up his chest. letting his lips brush your skin the whole way up, until your thighs framed his face and your knees sank into the mattress on either sides of his head.

his hands gripped your hips, eyes looking up to meet yours as he exhaled, “let me take care of you too.”

he barely gave you time to settle above him before he was pulling you down hard. his grip tightening around your thighs, dragging you fully down onto his mouth, his tongue already parting you before you could even exhale.

your gasp nearly hit the ceiling, luigi wasnt soft nor gentle, he was hungry.

he moaned into you like he was starving— like just the taste of you was enough to keep him alive. his mouth moved so recklessly, tongue licking broad, wet stripes before curling into where you needed him most, lips sealing around you in a filthy, perfect kiss.

you tried to lift yourself just slightly, just enough to catch your breath but his arms locked tighter around your thighs, pinning you down against him.

“luigi—“

you barely got his name out before— crack!

his palm landed a sharp slap to your ass. not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you he was in control right now.

your whole body jolted, letting out a surprised moan as you instinctively ground yourself down harder against his mouth and started grinding. slow at first, trying to find the perfect rhythm, and then faster and messier, as he just let you ride him, his pretty nose nudging against your clit.

he sucked, licked, devoured.

“fuck baby— you’re so good.” you moaned, voice shaking as your fingers tangled themselves in his curls, tugging hard.

“you’re making me feel so fucking good— i can’t—“ and he groaned under you, the sound vibrating against your pussy, making your thighs clamp tighter around his head. and still, he didn’t let up.

just kept licking like a man possessed, grip tightening, strong hands digging into your thighs, keeping you locked in place.

your body was trembling, skin flushed, that heat ready to snap— and luigi knew it.

and right when you were teetering, mouth hung open and breath stuttering— his lips latched onto your clit.

not soft or teasing, just purely desperate.

he sucked hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly, drawing fast, tight circles that made your vision go white.

“oh—fuck—luigi!”

the loudest moan tore out of you, sharp, raw, and damn near broken as the pleasure slammed into you. your thighs crammed around him, fingers yanking on his hair, hips jerking uncontrollably as your orgasm hit with a violent force.

and he held you there, through every gasp, twitch, and tremble. sucking, licking, chasing every last drop of your cum like he couldn’t fathom letting any of it going to waste.

even as your body gave out and you tried to pull away— he didn’t let you. he stayed there, moaning into you, drunk on your release.

your body still trembling when he released the tight grip he had on you, letting your thighs relax, pressing soft, tender kisses along the inside of your legs. and when you looked down at him, he was already watching you with wide eyes, swollen lips, and cheeks tinted pink.

“c’mere,” he whispered. barely having the strength to move, but you wanted to be close, needing it. you climbed down slowly and he met you half way— sitting up, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

your chests pressed together and noses brushing as your foreheads touched, “you okay?” he murmured, stroking his thumb over your hip.

“yeah,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “are you?”

he smiled, just a little, “never been better.”

your lips met again, slow as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, and your waist— like he couldn’t get enough of you.

and as your hips instinctively shifted against him, he let out the softest groan against your mouth. you felt him, already hard and ready, pressing against your pussy.

he reached down, lining himself up carefully, and you sank down on him, both of you letting out content sighs. both stilling for a moment, getting adjusted.

and then slowly, you began to move, grinding, rocking, and meeting him half way every time he lifted his hips. his hands held your waist to anchor himself in the moment, just feeling all of you.

your name left his lips like a prayer and your moans soft and breathy as your bodies rocked against each other in perfect rhythm.

your lips brushed over his jaw as your hips rolled against his, “you feel so good,” you whispered against his skin. “So deep…”

luigi groaned, tightening his arms around you, the sound buried in your shoulder, “you’re fucking perfect, pussy’s so fucking tight.” he breathed, voice low and thick.

his hands slid from your waist down to the small of your back, guiding you gently, helping you move just right— until his cock hit that sweet spot inside you that made your body jolt.

“yeah? right there?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of ear.

you nodded, nails lightly digging into his shoulders. “yes—right there, baby.”

he adjusted his angle slightly, and then a slow, precise thrust upward, so deep. and it hit, your whole body clenching around him, and your moan came out softer, higher than before.

he pulled back just enough to get a good look at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen, and tits littered in love bites. your forehead pressed to his, your bodies meeting in such an intimate rhythm.

“you make me feel so good, so full,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the heat pooling low in your stomach.

he kissed you, harder this time and then he took over, just a little. guiding your hips with one hand while the other slid down to hold your thigh as he angled his next thrust perfectly into that soft, sensitive spot inside you.

“there we go,” he rasped, dragging his lips along your neck.

“let me take care of you, baby. let me give you everything.”

his rhythm had started to slow, a bit overwhelmed. from the way your body clung to his, from how tight, how wet, how delicious you felt wrapped around him. his head dipped to your shoulder, breath ragged against your skin, big hands grasping your hips attempting to ground himself.

but you felt ready now, your body humming with energy again—refueled by every groan, every helpless twitch of his hips, and every shaky breath that tumbled from his lips.

so you started to move. a soft bounce at first, just enough to shift the angle, taking in more of him. then another. then faster. luigi gasped, back arching slightly, eyes squeezing shut as you rode him with more control.

your lips hovered near his ear, voice warm and broken in between moans, “you’re so deep inside me, gi...” he let out the quietest whimper, hands trembling against your skin.

“so big… stretching me so good. you feel it, don’t you? how wet you make me?”

he could barely speak, just nodded. barely.

and then—click. the door handle turned.

your bodies froze, just for a second, before luigi pulled you tighter against him, shielding you, even as your hips never faltered.

“yo luigi! how you holding up man?” a familiar voice called through the narrow crack in the door. he hadn’t fully stepped inside, just peeked the door open a few inches, only being able to see the edge of the bed and maybe luigi’s bare shoulder. the rest, being you fully naked and still grinding in his lap, was completely hidden by the angle.

luigi’s eyes blew wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“you—you gotta stop,” he hissed into your neck, biting back groan. “please—“

you leaned in, brushing your mouth against his ear, voice was sweet as candy while your hips rolled again, deep and slow.

“answer him.”

“let him hear how good you’re feeling.”

luigi’s hand flew to your waist, attempting to still you, but it was no use.

“i—uh,” he choked out, voice shaking. “yeah—i’m good man, just resting.”

his friend paused, “cool, just making sure. let us know if you need anything.”

you didn’t let him get a chance to recover. the second the door clicked shut, you pushed him backwards, your palms resting on his chest as you eased him down against the bed, his eyes still wide and wrecked under you.

his head hit the pillow, curls sticking to his forehead, and his chest heaving as you straddled him fully again.

“you’ve been so good,” you whispered, voice shaking with need. “but now i need more.”

and then you started to really move. your thighs burned as you began bouncing harder, hips slapping against his with wet desperate sounds, so intense, overwhelming, and fast. luigi’s hands scrambled to hold you, his fingers digging into your waist like he might slip through the bed if he didn’t anchor himself to you.

“f-fuck baby—“ he gasped, voice breaking. “that’s—too much—“ but he didn’t stop you.

he bent his knees suddenly, feet flat on the mattress and thrusted up. hard. your whole body jolted, a choked moan spilling out of your mouth as he met your bounces with the same fervor. each thrust slammed deeper and harder, matching the way you rode him until all that could be heard was skin slapping and both of you chanting each other’s names over and over.

“yesyesyes—lu, just like that—“ you cried out as he fucked up into you like he was trying to split you open from the inside.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, eyes hazy and voice raw. “such a tight little pussy amore— so perfect, can’t even hold back anymore.”

your movements became sloppier, desperation seeping through, your bodies completely lost in each other. just full of need. just you and him, chasing that sweet finish with matching desperation.

your name tumbled from his mouth in broken gasps, sweat slicking his chest where your bodies met, the heat between you two unbearable in the most delicious way.

and then his voice cracked out, desperate and strained, “i—fuck—i should probably pull out.” but his hips never slowed, because he didn’t really mean it and you both knew it. you leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, mouth by his ear as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

“don’t,” you begged, breath heavy and hot. “i wanna feel you. want you to stay inside me.”

his groan was guttural, almost pained with how badly he had been waiting for that permission.

“fuck—fuck—“

your nails dragged down his back, your body grinding back into every one of his thrusts, and then everything shattered.

you came first, gasping, shaking, clinging to him like you wouldn’t survive without him.

“luigi—oh god baby, don’t stop—don’t—“

he followed instantly, crying out your name into your neck, hips buried to the hilt as he spilled inside you, his body trembling beneath yours as the outside world faded away.

your bodies stayed tangled for a while, skin to skin, limbs loose, and breathing slowly coming back down. the room was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the ocean breeze drifting through the balcony door.

luigi’s heartbeat thudded gently beneath your cheek as you laid against his chest your fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his ribs. eventually, he shifted beneath you, careful and slow, kissing your shoulder as he murmured, “be right back.”

he slid out from the bed with a little wince, his legs shaky and muscles drained. you watched with a sleepy smile as he padded naked across the room, grabbing a small towel from the bathroom and returning a moment later.

“here,” he whispered, eyes soft as he knelt between your legs and cleaned you up. “i got you.”

your heart fluttered.

luigi had already crawled back into bed, arms stretched behind his head, eyes half-lidded and warm as he looked at you with a soft, post-bliss smile.

you sat up slowly, reaching for the bikini top that wads left at the edge of the bed. “i should probably head back to my room,” you murmured, voice gentle. “so you can rest comfortably…”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when his arm reached out fast, firm as his fingers curled gently around your wrist to stop you.

“what?” he asked, brown furrowed slightly as he tugged you back down towards him.

“baby no.”

you blinked as he guided you back into his arms, your body slotting effortlessly into the space next to his.

“i wanna rest here,” he whispered, lips brushing your shoulder.

“with you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he tugged the covers up, over both your naked bodies. he nuzzled into your chest, one arm round your waist, the other lazily cupping one of your tits.

“m’tired,” he murmured. “wouldn’t be smart of you to leave your patient alone away.”

your fingers threaded into his curls, your other one rubbing up and down his spine.

“how’s your back?” you asked softly.

“feels perfect,” he mumbled, voice already dying down. “because you’re here with me.”

within seconds, his breath evened out, warm against your skin. and you were left with a sleeping, heavy luigi tangled into your bare body, like his life depended on it.

why isn't he free and receiving sloppy head from hundreds of thousands of grateful people

fuuuuuckkk 😣

now we need a pt3 of the in person reunion that was tew good😮‍💨

cherry

summary: luigi comes home after a week long work trip, and the two of you spend time reuniting.

warnings: smut, sex (multiple positions) head (both receive) breeding, kissing

notes: this is part 3 of my weak for you series, you can read part 1 and part 2 before you read this one or you can read it as a standalone :)

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the house hums with stillness, broken only by the faint buzz of the tv. you’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath a frayed, mustard blanket. the screen flickers with a cooking show, chefs darting between sizzling pans, knives flashing under harsh lights but it’s just a blur, white noise against the electric anticipation thrumming in your veins. luigi’s due back today from his week long work trip, and the wait has you full of adrenaline.

his last text, boarding now, i love you, see you soon burned into your phone hours ago, and you’ve been piecing together his journey in your mind: the plane descending, wheels skidding on tarmac, him grabbing his bag from the overhead bin. your home feels empty without him, each corner echoing his absence, something thats clung to you all week. you ache for his warmth, the way he’d sprawl across this couch, one socked foot nudging yours, chuckling at your obsession with bad tv, his hand resting heavy on your shoulder.

then, you hear a faint jingle… keys at the door. your heart rate raises, but you stay put, gripping the remote. the door swings open, and there’s luigi, travel worn, jacket draped over his arm, backpack hanging loose. his eyes lock on yours, and that grin sparks, tired but bright, like it’s been waiting just for this.

“hey you.” says, voice gravelly, and before you can move, he’s crossing the room, bag hitting the floor with a thud. he’s on the couch in a heartbeat, practically pouncing on you, his weight pinning you against the cushions. he pulls you close, all leather and airplane air, his arms a solid, familiar cage. “god, i missed you…” he mumbles, lips brushing your temple, and the house feels full again, the week’s emptiness gone in a single, messy tackle.

your fingers grip his jacket, pulling him closer. his lips find yours, urgent, warm, tasting of coffee and travel. you kiss back fiercely, hands in his hair, his groan vibrating against you. his hand cups your face, deepening the kiss, hungry yet tender, the world shrinking to just this messy, perfect, whole again.

you ease back to breathe, foreheads touching, luigi’s gaze heavy and fixed on you. “missed you so much…” you whisper, voice trembling with relief, fingertips grazing the scruff on his jaw. he flashes a half-smile, lips grazing yours teasingly.

“relax… i was always gonna come back home.” he says with a smile, voice rough, before kissing you slower, savoring every second.

“but don’t you fucking dare leave me for that long again.” you murmur into his mouth, tugging his curls playfully, luigi’s chuckle is soft, warm, and he kisses you again, slow and deep, hands settling on your hips, grounding you as the couch shifts. “staying right here.” he vows between kisses, and you feel it in his touch, the home he brings, as you melt into him.

your hands glide down his chest, grazing the worn leather of his jacket before reaching the cool metal of his belt buckle. you tug, the soft clink piercing the silence, and he leans back slightly, eyes sparking with surprise and hunger.

“awww, my baby’s in a hurry,” he teases, voice rough, his breath warm against your cheek. you smirk, swiftly undoing the buckle, the leather slipping free.

“you’ve got a whole week to answer for.” you murmur, voice low, tossing the belt aside. your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, sliding the denim down his hips. his breath catches, hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the couch creaks beneath you, the tension between you crackling, sharp and alive.

your hands linger at his waistband, slipping beneath the elastic of his calvin kleins with a slow, deliberate touch. you ease the fabric down, freeing his soft cock, the warmth of his skin brushing against your fingers. luigi’s eyes flicker with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability, a quiet hitch in his breath as he watches you.

“still soft?” you ask, voice soft but edged with want, your fingers grazing lightly, teasingly, as you hold his gaze. his hands flex, a low hum escaping him, the air thick with the unspoken promise of what’s next.

“not for long.” he murmurs.

you lean in, lips brushing luigi’s soft length, leaving faint lipstick marks with each kiss. you keep kissing, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving his, each press painting another red smudge. his breath stumbles, a quiet groan slipping out as he shifts, hands tightening.

“fuck, you’re so hot.” he mutters, voice rough, the sight of your lipstick stains on him increasing his need. you smirk, maintaining eye contact, the couch creaking as you lean closer, the heat between you blazing.

you part your lips, taking his softness into your mouth, warm and careful, eyes still fixed on his. he whimpers, a sharp sound as you feel him harden, growing firm against your tongue. a deep, shaky moan escapes him, his hands gripping you tighter, fingers digging in as he struggles to keep steady.

“shit…” luigi groans, voice raw, the sensation overwhelming. “wait, baby… can i fuck your face?”

you pause, slowly easing him out of your mouth, lips brushing against him one last time as you meet his heated gaze. a sly smile curves your lips. “please do.” you say, voice low and teasing, the word dripping with promise.

you shift, reaching for the small bottle of throat numbing spray on the side table, grabbing it with a quick glance back at him. his eyes darken, a hungry edge to his stare as he watches you. you spritz the spray, the cool mist settling in your throat, and toss the bottle aside, leaning back toward him.

“ready when you are,” you murmur, voice steady, inviting, as you position yourself, hands resting on his thighs.

luigi’s gaze is primal, a low groan escaping as he leans closer, his strong hands seizing your head with possessive intent. “you’re fucking unreal,” he growls, voice dripping with lust. he guides his throbbing cock to your lips, and you part them eagerly, taking him in, wet and warm.

he starts with shallow thrusts, teasing your mouth, but the feral glint in his eyes and the tightening of his fists in your hair betray his barely leashed hunger. you relax your throat, fingers digging into his tensed thighs, urging him on with a throaty moan. his hips snap faster, driving deeper, fucking your face with a relentless, greedy rhythm.

your tongue flicks and curls around luigi’s length with every movement, savoring the hot, salty taste of his arousal as you tighten your lips, sucking greedily to match his ruthless rhythm. his breaths are jagged, his sculpted abs tensing with each forceful snap of his hips. “so good… i love you so much,” he growls, voice raw with desperation, his hands clamping tighter in your hair, yanking you closer to take him even deeper.

the sloppy, lewd sounds of your mouth devouring him echo throughout the room, blending with the couch’s protests and his deep, primal grunts. your nails dig into his taut thighs, spurring him on, begging him to lose himself in the haze. his thrusts turn sharper, more frenzied, his cock throbbing against your tongue, but he reins himself in, muscles flexing with the strain of holding back.

but he suddenly halts, chest heaving, another groan tearing from his throat. he pulls back, eyes burning with desire, and rasps, “shit, i gotta stop… i wanna taste you.” his grip loosens, but the feral edge in his voice promises the fire’s only just begun.

luigi’s hands, still shaking with raw desire, glide to your thighs as he drops to his knees in front of you. his firm fingers part your thighs wide with a steady, commanding touch, revealing you completely to his intense, hungry stare.

your skin prickles under his gaze, and he leans forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. each press of his lips is hot, taunting, inching higher, igniting sparks across your body.

“i love your body baby, so pretty,” he murmurs against your skin, voice deep and worshipful, his eyes lifting to lock with yours, brimming with lust and reverence. “i always get sad when i see you in front of the mirror judging yourself, your body is my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

his words crash over you, setting your face ablaze, your pulse hammering as you squirm under his grip, flustered and caught off guard. “stop it…” you mumble, voice trembling, a shy giggle slipping out as you try to mask the dizzying warmth his praise sends coursing through you. his lips quirk into a devilish grin, and he kisses closer to your core.

luigi’s fingers slip beneath the edge of your panties, and with a deliberate, teasing pull, he drags them aside, revealing your slick, throbbing core to the air and his hungry stare. “shit,” he murmurs, voice heavy with want, his gaze darkening as he drinks you in. he dives in without pause, his mouth crashing onto your soaked folds, tongue plunging deep with a ravenous groan.

his lips and tongue consume you, sucking your clit firmly before circling it with precise, relentless flicks. his hands grip your thighs, holding them open, fingers digging into your flesh as he dives deeper, tongue fucking you with messy, insatiable strokes. your hips buck, overwhelmed by his intensity, but he keeps you pinned, deep growls vibrating against your core, driving you wild.

his skill is devastating, every lick of his tongue a perfect hit as he takes you apart with dead on aim. he switches between slow, teasing swipes and fast, playful flicks, breaking you down with every dirty move. he knows when to hold back, lingering with soft, sucking kisses that light you up, and when to go hard, diving deep with a beat that leaves you gasping.

you’re moaning like a whore, your hands clutch his head, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you burn for more. “lu, oh my god!’” you sob, voice shaking with raw desire. his growl vibrates against you, making you squirm on the couch.

“don’t stop,” you pant, hips chasing his ruthless tongue. but he ignores you, lifting his head, eyes dark and hungry. “i wanna fuck you,” he moans, voice low and rough, sending a fresh jolt through you.

your moans catch in your throat, body still buzzing as he shifts, sliding onto the couch beside you. his hands, strong and urgent, grab your waist, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. you straddle him, heart pounding, as his fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you against him.

he leans in, lips crashing into yours, kissing you hard and messy, all heat and hunger. his tongue dives into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, while your hands grip his shoulders, still trembling from the edge he left you on. the kiss deepens, raw and desperate, his low groans mixing with your shaky breaths as you melt into him, ready for whatever he gives you next.

the kiss is all fire, luigi’s lips devouring yours with a hunger that makes your head spin. you break the kiss just long enough to grab the hem of your baggy t shirt, yanking it over your head in one swift move, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts. his eyes darken, raking over you with a look that sends heat pooling in your core.

“fuck,” he mutters, voice rough, before he follows suit, peeling his shirt off and flinging it away. his chest is broad, skin warm and taut under your hands as you press against him, feeling the heat radiating between you. your fingers trace his shoulders, needy and restless, as his hands slide up your back, pulling you into another searing kiss, lips and tongues clashing with raw, desperate want.

then, out of nowhere, luigi moves, and with one hard, purposeful thrust, he thrusts up, slamming his thick cock deep into you, stretching your soaked cunt so wide it steals your breath.

“fuck!” you gasp, voice cracking, your walls gripping him like a vice as the intense fullness hits like a tidal wave. his low, primal groan vibrates through you, hips twitching to let you feel every throbbing inch. your fingers sink into his shoulders, nails cutting in as you move together.

luigi’s relentless thrusts don’t falter, his thick cock slamming up into you with merciless force, each brutal pump stretching your dripping pussy to its limit. your broken moans spill out, high and desperate, as your body jolts with every savage snap of his hips, tits bouncing wildly under his hungry gaze.

you’re moaning his name like a prayer, your voice a wrecked mess, your mind blanked by the overwhelming pleasure pain of being fucked dumb. his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks as he whines, sound vibrating through you like a primal claim.

his cock hammers into you with ruthless power, each thrust nailing that perfect spot, making your body shudder and your cries sharper, barely coherent. soaked in sweat and trembling, you’re consumed by him, your nails ripping his shoulders to shreds. then, through heavy breaths, his voice breaks through, rough and intense.

“all i thought about while i was away, was coming home to fuck you like this.” he snarls, eyes locked on yours as his hips pound harder, every word driven home by a thrust. “can never get enough of you, of your sexy body.”

the confession sets you on fire, and he groans, diving deeper, the frenzied rhythm dragging you both toward total annihilation.

your head falls back, a guttural scream ripping from your lips as your cunt grips him, drowning in the savage pleasure.

“lu, god, i was practically dying without you,” you whimper, voice breaking with raw desire, your hips grinding down to meet his relentless upward thrusts. “i needed you… fuck, i needed this.”

your words tumble out, needy and unfiltered, as your pussy throbs around him, each powerful thrust shoving you toward the brink. “please, don’t stop! fuck me harder!” you sob, nails sinking deeper into his shoulders, spurring him on as your body writhes against him.

luigi suddenly pulls out, leaving you gasping at the aching emptiness. before you can plead, his hands seize your hips with bruising force, flipping you onto the couch in one swift, rough motion. you land on your back, legs falling open as he looms over you, all raw heat and need.

he grabs your thighs, hoisting them up and pinning them toward your chest, locking you beneath him. with one brutal thrust, he buries his thick cock back inside your dripping pussy, the angle making every inch hit harder, deeper.

“fucking missed this pussy, god, fuck-“ he rasps, voice dripping with lust as he slams into you, each relentless thrust pressing you into the cushions. your screams turn to broken wails, body trembling under his weight as the ferocious pace and overwhelming penetration rocket you toward a shattering climax, his hips never slowing in their primal claim.

your nails claw at his back, leaving red streaks as you writhe against him, barely matching his savage rhythm. “lu, shit, i’m gonna come!” you wail, voice fractured and frantic, your pussy gripping his thick cock tighter with every punishing plunge.

his eyes burn with lust, a hungry grin spreading as he leans in, moaning low against your ear. “oh yeah baby, fuck, give it to me, come around my cock-” he groans, voice gritty with want, the sound igniting you further. he shifts his hips, slamming into that perfect spot with deadly precision, and your world collapses as your body seizes, a blinding rush of pleasure shredding through you.

you scream luigi’s name, practically convulsing beneath him, your pussy pulsing wildly as your orgasm rips through you, a gush of slick, hot wetness flooding from your core, coating his cock and dripping onto the couch. his moans deepen, raw and unrestrained, his thrusts growing erratic, chasing his own peak as you tremble in the aftershocks, your soaked thighs quivering against him.

his hips keep slamming into you, relentless, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he rides the high of your climax. his hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you pinned beneath him, and his eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust. “fuck, i’m gonna cum inside you,” he groans, voice rough and urgent, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. “you want that, baby? want me to knock you up? huh?”

“yes, fuck yes! you moan, voice high and desperate.

“i want your baby lu, fuck, please cum in me!” the words spill out, raw and needy, as you writhe beneath him, urging him on.

his eyes go dark, his thrusts instantly faltering as your words hit him hard. his hips slam into you one last time, the wet, filthy smack of skin against your soaked pussy ringing out. “fuck baby, take it.” he moans, voice ragged, his cock throbbing inside your pulsing walls.

he buries himself deep, a choked groan escaping as he cums, hot, thick ropes of his seed flooding your pussy, filling you so full it seeps out around his shaft, mixing with your slick and dripping onto the couch. your body shakes, pussy clamping tight to milk every drop as you whine his name, the scorching rush of his release sending you into another trembling wave of ecstasy. he stays deep inside, panting, hands gripping you possessively, as the raw intensity leaves you both wrecked.

after a moment, he slowly pulls out, his softening cock slipping free with a wet sound, a trail of his thick cum and your slick leaking from your stretched pussy, pooling beneath you on the couch. he sits back, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs with a mix of awe and pride. “oh baby,” he says, voice low and rough, a smirk tugging at his lips. “there’s no way you’re not pregnant right now.”

his eyes linger on the creamy trail leaking from you, and with a hungry spark, he leans in. he runs his fingers through the warm, slick blend of his release and your essence gathered on the couch, collecting the intimate mixture.

“can’t let this go to waste.” he says, voice low and rough, as he brings his coated fingers to your pulsing core. slowly, purposefully, he presses the gathered fluid back inside you, his fingers gliding effortlessly into your sensitive entrance. you gasp, your body quivering at the sensation, your core tightening around his fingers as he pushes the thick mixture deeper, ensuring it stays within you. “gotta make sure it stays.” he says with a smirk, eyes locked on yours as he withdraws his fingers, leaving you trembling, filled, and completely his.

luigi’s smirk softens into a tender smile as he reaches for you, his strong hands gently pulling you onto his lap. your body, still trembling from the intensity, melts against his warm chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ground you, a comforting contrast to the lingering sensitivity between your thighs. he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch careful and reverent, then presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“i really hope you’re pregnant…” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and earnest, filled with a quiet longing that makes your heart flutter. “i wanna start a family with you.”

you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a small, teasing smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “we’ll see in a few weeks.” you reply softly, your voice a mix of anticipation and playful uncertainty.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

:,) 💞💞💞

previous work

Strawberries, cherries, and an angel’s kiss in spring…

* nsfw: messy & filthy cockwarming, no sex, dom!luigi *

It’s April in Sicily. You and Luigi have been here for a week now, tucked away in your sun-drenched villa perched on the edge of the Aeolian Islands. You booked a springtime retreat to satisfy the yearning for a life woven only of each other, under the soft gaze of the Mediterranean sun.

The warmth kisses your bare shoulders as you wander through the gardens of your villa, the breeze curling around your body. Barefoot, the grass and earth are soft under your soles, and you twirl lazily, gathering wild spring flowers in your hands: delicate white blooms, tiny pink buds, yellow petals that smell of honey. You weave them into your hair, threading them through the messy braid you’d tossed over one shoulder, smiling softly at how pretty you feel, how free.

You’re wearing that little babydoll your boyfriend loves, the pale pink fabric fluttering against your thighs, nearly translucent when the sunlight hits it. You’re a dream under the sparkling spring sun — it’s mid-afternoon now, when the warmth of the Mediterranean is at its peak, and as you move through the garden with the petals, you anticipate the way you know Luigi will look at you when you step back inside. Reverent and doting, those dilated pupils that tell you each time how utterly lovesick he is for his girl.

The hem of your babydoll brushes the tops of your thighs as you skip a little toward the entrance of the villa, clutching the last handful of blossoms. The heavy wooden door swings open with a soft creak, and the coolness of the stone floor soothes your feet as you step inside. The house smells like sunlight and salt and something sweeter, and you follow the scent into the kitchen.

Luigi is standing by the table, the late afternoon light accentuating the olive of his skin. His curls are tousled, messy from the earlier breeze. You pause at the door to watch him, taking in his existence. He wears nothing but beige linen shorts that hang low on his hips, and you blink twice to focus on the sight of the back muscles that decorate his broad figure. He’s focused on a little wooden bowl, slicing ripe strawberries and pitting cherries, his fingers stained pink with their juices.

You stay still in the doorway as Luigi hums under his breath, completely relaxed. When he glances up and sees you, his gaze both softens and deepens at the same time.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, voice already rough with affection.

You pad toward him, flowers still clutched in your fingers, and as you’re setting them down, he catches you by the waist and tugs you into his lap, lowering you onto his thigh at the table, turned sideways so you’re half-facing him.

His arms wrap around your middle immediately, strong and warm, pulling you snug against his chest. He rocks you gently, back and forth, savoring the moment of resting his girl in his arms. He leans down and presses kisses along your jaw, featherlight, his nose nuzzling your temple, your cheek, your ear.

“My beautiful girl,” he breathes against your skin. His hands roam lazily, tracing circles over the bare skin of your thigh, your hip, your ass under the fluttery hem of your babydoll. “Look at you, baby…”

You loop your arms around his neck, giggling when he nuzzles into you again. Your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck as you both sit there, wrapped up in each other, the warm, lazy afternoon stretching around you like a cloud… or a dream.

“Princess,” he murmurs again, a little dazed. He pulls back just enough to look at you, hazel eyes glowing so much so that you see the flecks of green. His gaze is slow and hungry as it travels over your body: the sheer babydoll, the golden flush of your skin, the wildflowers tangled in your braid. “You’re so beautiful.”

You pout at him with a pretty smile, wrists resting on his shoulders. “You just told me that, Lu.”

“Because I just can’t believe you. Can’t believe you’re mine, cara mia,” Luigi whispers.

The way he’s looking at you — full of hunger, of warmth, of devotion — makes your stomach flutter and your thighs press together instinctively. You giggle again, a little shyly this time, ducking your head against his shoulder, but he doesn’t let you hide.

He keeps tracing slow, lazy patterns over your bare skin, teasing touches that make your panties dampen embarrassingly fast. You hope he doesn’t notice, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming a little on his thigh — the movement might be subtle, but Luigi notices everything about you, especially when that squirm is paired with the sense of something wet on the hem of his shorts.

The moment he feels the first little damp patch seep onto the fabric, he pauses, then leans back just a little, tilting his head. His tongue presses to the inside of his cheek as he raises an eyebrow at you.

He speaks soft, voice amused but with that usual reverent authority. “You okay, baby?” His hands spread wide over your hip, holding you still against him. He presses a kiss to your temple, so soft it almost makes you whimper.

You lift your head, meeting his eyes with a wide, innocent gaze, your lower lip jutting out in a tiny pout. “Mhm… fine, Lu.”

Luigi just hums, clearly unconvinced. His hand sneaks down under the fabric of your babydoll and squeezes your ass lightly, making you gasp — and then he smacks it, just a little. Just enough to make you whine and instinctively grind down onto his thigh. You feel his muscles flex under you and it makes your head spin.

“You don’t need anything, angel?” he teases, voice low, syrupy sweet. His fingers trail up and down your side, ghosting over your ribs, your waist, setting you on fire with the softest touch.

You shake your head a little, but your body betrays you, rocking against his thigh like you can’t help it. The wetness between your legs grows hotter, stickier, soaking through the flimsy fabric.

“Tell me, baby,” Luigi says softly, nudging your chin with his thumb and index so you face him properly. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his gaze is sweet and focused. “What’s the matter?”

You only whimper, nuzzling into his neck, and you can feel him smiling now against your hair. His hands slide up your back, then down, then lower—

“Up,” he murmurs, tapping your thigh. “Straddle me and tell me what’s wrong.”

Obediently, and maybe a little too eagerly, you shift, swinging one leg over him so you’re sitting squarely on his lap now, facing him, your babydoll pooling around you like a cloud. You lean forward immediately, your clothed breasts pressing against his hard, warm chest, arms wrapping tight around his neck as you giggle breathlessly. You feel dizzy with how good it feels to be so close to your man, how safe you feel in his lap, how solid and broad he is underneath you.

“That’s my pretty baby. Come here, give me a kiss,” he whispers into your hair. He inhales the scent of a fresh blossom petal.

You lean back from him a little to face him, pressing your forehead against his as your lips meet. You both can’t help but smile as you pull away, and Luigi’s hands slide down to your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to make you squeal softly. Then he smacks it again, sharper this time, and you shudder against him.

“My sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jaw, your ear, the side of your neck. “My perfect angel, so pretty…”

You’re rocking against him without even meaning to, grinding your soaked panties over the crotch of his shorts, desperate for friction.

Luigi bites his lip, eyes raking over you as if he’s deciding what to do with you. He moves his hands slowly between your ass and your waist, and you don’t even realize that you’re moving a little faster, more wetness seeping from the fabric of your panties and onto his half-hard clothed cock. The little noises that leave your pretty lips have him entranced, but outwardly his doting, authoritative gaze doesn’t shift.

After a few moments of near silence — the air filled with nothing but your soft whines and squeaks and the rustle of fabric against fabric, he speaks again.

“You want my cock, baby?”

He asks it like he’s asking if you want a piece of fruit, so casual it makes you clench around nothing. Pathetically, all you do is whine in response.

He raises his eyebrows, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and he grips your hips tighter.

“Shh. Listen to me, angel. I’m gonna give you what you want if you just tell me, okay? Use your words, you know I like when you do.”

Another breathless whine leaves your lips as you attempt to move again, but his big hands still you, keeping you in your place. You lean forward so that your lips brush his ear, and nod frantically. “Please, Lu,” you whisper, voice trembling with need. The ache is unbearable now. “Want you—fuck—so bad.”

He chews the inside of his cheek, eyes raking over your body with an unreadable expression. “You shouldn’t curse like that. Ask nicely, baby.”

You exhale and comply, your voice light and airy. “Please can I have your cock, Lu? I’m your good girl… I love you, handsome.”

You know he likes it when you call him that, especially when you’re looking into his eyes as you are now, all doe-eyed and desperate.

Luigi growls low in his throat, and his hand slides under the front hem of your babydoll, fingers slipping between your thighs. He finds your clit with ease, pressing against the soaked fabric of your pretty pink panties — the ones that match the lingerie you’re currently wearing.

“Matching for me, baby. Pretty princess, as always,” he murmurs, eyes fixated on the wetness pooling between your legs despite the fabric.

You giggle, attempting to grind down again. Two of his fingers circle your sensitivity, achingly slow, before he suddenly smacks your clit, not too sharp, but just enough to send a shocking wave of pleasure through you that causes you to cry out softly into his neck. His hand slips under your panties, palm against your clit, and you rock against his hand.

“Mmmhmm, baby,” you whine. Luigi hardly takes his eyes off you — only twice, to assess the mess you’re making in your panties.

“Bellissima, la mia ragazza…” he whispers, as you continue to grind your clit against his calloused palm. He coos at you through your soft noises, and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Shh, baby. You’re my good girl, soaking my hand…”

You’re lost in the feeling — he’s still not really doing anything, you’re just using him for your pleasure, rocking back and forth, knees bracketing his thighs. And amidst his soft words and doting gaze, he doesn’t prepare you for the abrupt moment he takes his hand out of your panties.

You pout, eyes glassy, another soft whine escaping your throat. “Lu…”

You feel his hand, slick with your arousal, settle on your hip, the other firm against your ass, slow and coaxing, as he shifts you slightly. His touch is so gentle, so reverent it almost makes you want to cry. You feel dizzy, drunk on his existence.

“Lift up a little, baby. You don’t have to do anything else,” he murmurs against your ear. You obey, rising up on shaky thighs, clutching at his broad shoulders for balance.

Luigi leans back in the chair slightly, still cradling you in his lap, his hands firm and steady on your hips. His thumb rubs slow circles into your skin, grounding you, voice low and sweet as he kisses your forehead once, then twice, lingering like he doesn’t want to rush a single thing.

"You okay, beautiful? You ready?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod without hesitation, heart fluttering with anticipation, your body already aching for him. You can feel him beneath you, thick and hard, straining against the fabric of his shorts — and when he shifts slightly, the outline of him drags against you, making your thighs tremble with want.

You watch through heavy, awestruck eyes as he slides one hand down, undoing the button of his shorts with a slow, deliberate movement. The rasp of the zipper coming down sounds almost loud in the quiet kitchen. You can hardly breathe, your mouth going dry as he pushes the fabric aside and frees himself.

He’s so big — thick and heavy in his hand, the flushed tip already slick with need. His cock rests against his lower stomach, proud and weighty, a deep, dusky pink that contrasts so beautifully with the golden tan of his skin. A small, neat patch of dark hair crowns the base, soft-looking and masculine, just enough to make your head spin.

You whimper quietly at the sight, your thighs clenching around him, your whole body yearning to be filled. He catches your reaction immediately, a slow, knowing smile curving his mouth.

"Yeah, you hungry?" he murmurs, his voice a low, affectionate tease. "Just wait, baby. I know.”

The scent of him fills your head, intoxicating and real — sun-warmed skin and a faint hint of salt, like the sea breeze clinging to him; a whisper of soap still lingering from his morning shower, fresh and clean. And underneath it all, the faint, dizzying musk of him — no cologne, just Luigi, so natural and perfect it makes you ache.

He leans back slightly in his chair, his big hands resting heavily on your hips, grounding you against him. His cock, thick and flushed, rests hot against your panties, the head brushing right against your soaked center.

Without warning, he shifts his hips just a little, and with a low, almost playful hum, he lifts his cock in his hand and smacks it lightly against your aching core through the thin cotton.

The sound is wet and obscene — a sharp, sticky noise that seems to echo in the stillness of the kitchen. You shudder violently, the sudden contact sparking a bright, electric shock up your spine. Your panties are already drenched, clinging to your folds, outlining everything shamelessly — and now, with each lazy slap of his cock, more of your arousal seeps through the fabric, darkening it even further.

The heavy head of him nudges directly against your throbbing clit, and you gasp, clutching at his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Every little movement, every slight shift, makes the mess between you grow even slicker, even stickier. You feel it all — the heat of him, the slick slide of his precum mixing with your own dripping wetness, smearing together in a hot, glistening mess right against your panties.

The scent rises, thick between your bodies — sweet and musky, the unmistakable perfume of your combined arousal. It fills the air, rich and humid, wrapping around you both.

Luigi's eyes are locked between your bodies, watching with an intense focus. His lip is caught between his teeth, brows furrowed slightly as he watches the way your panties grow wetter and wetter with every teasing pass of his cock.

"What a mess," he murmurs under his breath, voice so low and rough it vibrates straight through your chest.

Your cheeks flush hot, your whole body tingling with both embarrassment and pride — because it’s for him, because he loves it, because he’s looking at you like you’re something precious and sacred.

Moving slowly, teasingly, Luigi hooks one finger into the side of your panties and tugs them aside. The soaked fabric clings stubbornly to you for a moment before peeling away, revealing your glistening folds underneath.

He groans low in his chest at the sight.

Your pussy is flushed and swollen, slick and glistening with need, every inch of you shining under the golden light streaming in through the kitchen windows. Your clit is plump and needy, peeking out from between your soaked folds, trembling slightly from how much you want him. The evidence of your arousal is messy and dripping, strands of wetness coating your folds.

"Bellissima," Luigi breathes, the word full of reverence. He runs the thick, heavy length of his cock along your folds, gathering even more of your wetness and smearing it along himself, leaving both of you slick and shining.

You moan softly, your hips instinctively starting to rock forward, grinding against the broad, hot length of him. The head of his cock catches against your clit again, dragging over it with every little movement you make, sending sparks shooting through your trembling body.

But you stay patient for him, just like he loves — rocking your hips gently, slowly, not rushing, waiting for his permission to do more. Your hands stay obediently on his shoulders, your chest pressed close to his, your eyes shining up at him because you’re his perfect girl.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Luigi watches you with a look so soft and proud it makes your throat tighten. He shifts slightly under you, tilting his hips up just a little to tease you even more, the broad underside of his cock dragging slowly, deliberately against your clit, sending fresh, aching pulses through your whole body.

"I love you, dolcezza,” he murmurs, his voice like warm honey. "Take your time. Feel me."

One of his big hands slides up to the small of your back, holding you steady as you grind so sweetly against him, your needy, dripping pussy rocking along the thick length of him. His other hand drifts lazily down to stroke over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently, grounding you further against him.

Every movement, every breath between you is soaked in heat and affection, in something deeper than just lust — something endless, timeless.

"You’re so good for me," he whispers, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "So pretty... so perfect."

You whimper softly, rubbing yourself against him with slow, desperate need, every part of you slick and trembling. And Luigi just holds you tighter, letting you grind against him, letting you feel everything, keeping you wrapped up safe and loved in his arms.

"This is what you wanted, hm?” he soothes you, guiding your hips up with careful hands. "Need you to lift up a little again, baby, gonna give you this cock now.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and you lift yourself slightly, hands gripping his broad shoulders. He holds himself steady beneath you with one hand, the other still cupping your hip tenderly, stroking comfort into your skin. His head tips back against the chair, watching you through hooded eyes, dark and full of devotion.

Luigi lines you up carefully, the broad head of his cock brushing against your entrance, and you both shudder at the contact. He rubs slow, gentle circles over your clit with his thumb, coaxing you, easing you into it with such overwhelming tenderness it makes your chest ache.

"Nice and easy, angel," he coaxes you, voice like warm velvet. "I’ve got you."

You start to sink down, and immediately he’s there — whispering sweet, grounding things into the golden afternoon air around you.

"Just the tip, there you go," he breathes, kissing your forehead softly.

You whimper, clinging to his shoulders, and he rubs slow circles against your clit again to soothe you, to make it easier. The stretch is delicious and overwhelming, and Luigi’s touch, his voice, helps you through it.

"One inch," he counts in a low, reverent murmur, pride thick in his voice. "My good girl."

You bite your lip, moaning quietly as you sink down another fraction, feeling him stretch you even more.

"Two," he says, his hands tightening on your hips just slightly, steadying you.

Your whole body shudders against him, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he already is inside you, and you’re not even halfway yet.

"Three," he whispers, kissing along your collarbone, nuzzling the warm skin there.

He smells so good — sun, skin, soap, salt — and you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as you lower yourself even more.

"Four," he coos, his voice laced with awe, one big hand sliding up your back to hold you closer.

You gasp softly, the fullness almost too much, but the way he rubs your clit and strokes your back keeps you grounded.

"Five," Luigi murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You’re doing perfect, cara mia. So pretty for me."

You whine, overcome by how deep he is already, how much you love him, how perfectly he fits inside you.

"Almost there, baby," he whispers. "Just a little more."

With a final soft moan, you sink all the way down, your hips meeting his, your body trembling with the effort and the overwhelming sense of being completely, utterly filled.

"Seven inches," he breathes, his voice thick and full of wonder. "All mine."

Your breath hitches as your ass settles snugly against his thighs, stuffed full of him. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming feeling of fullness, of heat.

Before you can even catch your breath, Luigi's hand swings back and delivers a sharp, playful smack to your ass, making you squeal and jolt in his lap.

He smirks against your hair, his big hands smoothing over the sting almost immediately. "There," he murmurs, full of love. "My beautiful girl."

You can feel how proud he is of you — every soft murmur, every kiss to your cheek, your shoulder, your jaw. He wraps one strong arm around you, cradling you tight against his chest, his heart thudding steadily beneath your ear. His big hand strokes your back, soothing you, keeping you grounded, while his thumb continues to rub slow, lazy circles against your clit, coaxing little shivers from your body.

"You’re perfect," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. "So good for me, baby. So beautiful."

And he holds you there for a few moments, rocking you gently in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, the two of you wrapped up in each other, surrounded by the lazy hum of the afternoon.

"Stay still," he reminds you, voice all sweet authority, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Just let me hold you, yeah?"

You nod, whimpering, your body screaming to move, to grind, to chase that unbearable pleasure... but you obey, trembling slightly as he leans forward casually, reaching for the bowl of fruit he'd been preparing earlier.

You watch, wide-eyed, as he plucks a glistening cherry from the bowl, holding it up between two fingers. His gaze is heavy-lidded, dark with affection and hunger.

"Open your mouth," he murmurs.

You part your lips obediently, and he pops the cherry into your mouth, smiling when you giggle around it, juice spilling just a little at the corners of your lips.

You shift without thinking, grinding a tiny bit on his cock stuffed inside you, desperate for more.

Luigi tuts softly, tilting his head in mock disapproval. "What did I say, sweet girl?"

You whimper around the cherry, your cheeks burning, and try to stay still again, but it's impossible — the pulse of him inside you, the slow throb of need in your abdomen makes you roll your hips the tiniest bit.

He chuckles low, his hand slipping between your thighs again to deliver a light, teasing smack to your aching clit. You gasp, shuddering against him, squeezing around him so hard he groans under his breath.

"My baby," he coos, feeding you a slice of strawberry now, the sweetness bursting on your tongue. "Can feel you soaking my cock, angel, but you can wait a little longer for me, yeah? Just wanna cuddle you like this.”

Fruit juice dribbles down your chin, trailing dangerously close to the delicate fabric of your babydoll. Before you can panic, Luigi catches it with his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

He brings his thumb to your mouth, tapping it lightly against your bottom lip. "Suck for me," he whispers.

You obey without hesitation, lips closing around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it as you suck obediently, tasting the fruit and the salt of his skin.

His eyes darken visibly, hand tightening on you for a split second before he forces himself to stay still, groaning softly.

"That’s it, princess. Taste sweet?" he rasps, pulling his thumb free with a soft pop.

“So sweet,” you nod.

"Stay still," he orders again, a little firmer this time — but there’s a smile playing at his lips, affectionate and teasing, as you whine and tremble in his arms, desperate to move.

You lean forward even more, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. You kiss the slope of his neck tenderly, desperate for some outlet for the need burning through you. You mouth at his skin, breathing him in, and he lets you, his hand smoothing up and down your back.

After a few minutes, his hand slides up your thigh again, slow and firm.

"Alright, baby," he murmurs. "Get off my cock for me just for a second, yeah?"

You whine, shaking your head against his shoulder, but he only chuckles, squeezing your ass gently. His speech is gradual, line by line, refusing to let you in on what he wants you to do next.

"Come on, sweet girl. You’ll be right back where you belong, I promise."

Pouting, you lift yourself up, feeling him slide out of you — the loss making you clench helplessly, your whole body aching for him.

"That’s it, angel," he praises, and the words make your heart soar.

He pats his thigh lightly. "Now come sit again. But turn around for me this time, yeah?"

You climb back onto him, this time facing away, your back to his chest. His hands guide you carefully, steadying you as you sink down again, his cock sliding back inside you in one long, unbearable stretch.

You both groan low in your throats as you settle back against him, fully seated on his cock once again, his chest pressed flush to your back.

"Stay still," he reminds you softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. "Just let me hold you like this."

You shiver, melting against him as he reaches up to toy with your hair, undoing your messy braid with deft fingers. He combs through the strands slowly, gently, threading the wildflowers back into a neater braid with such careful attention it makes your chest ache.

"My pretty baby," he murmurs over and over, between kisses to your shoulder, your neck, the shell of your ear. "So beautiful like this... all mine..."

You whine softly, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it, the slow tenderness.

He reaches around you again, picking up a slice of strawberry, holding it to your lips. You open obediently, letting him feed you, your hands clutching his thighs for balance.

Juice trickles down your chin, but he’s there again instantly, thumb brushing the spill away and tapping lightly at your bottom lip. Your lips instinctively close around his thumb, tongue swirling.

"You’re such a good girl for me," he praises, his voice a low rumble against your back. "Sitting so pretty… letting me feed you and do your hair while you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

Every once in a while, he leans down to murmur something against your ear — praises, promises, little sinful things that make your core tighten even more around him.

"Your pussy’s perfect for me, baby... so sweet and warm around me."

"You wanna stay stuffed with me all day? We can sit like this for hours, just wanna hold you so close forever.”

"My perfect baby... my sweet angel."

The sun dips lower outside the villa, bathing the kitchen in molten gold, and you're still there, sitting so prettily in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your body trembling with the need only he can satisfy — and he has all the time in the world to love you like this.

As he finishes braiding your hair, his hands gentle against your scalp, you feel the warmth of his body press tighter behind you. His fingers linger at the nape of your neck, smoothing the final strand into place before he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer to him, making you feel the weight of his body anchoring yours.

For a moment, everything slows. His cock still fills you, deep and firm, but the urgency of it fades into something more... soft, secure, tender.

You shiver as his lips press against the side of your neck, and then you hear the faint rustle of paper. “Hold on, princess," Luigi murmurs softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He leans back just enough to reach over to the counter, picking up a small, folded notebook. "I’ve been making a few notes... things I’ve been thinking about you lately."

His voice is soft, grounded, deep with affection, and you feel your chest tighten as he clears his throat and begins to read aloud, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your waist, steadying you in his lap as his words wrap around you like a blanket.

"The way your smile lights up everything around you," he starts, his voice low but clear, every word tender as it rolls from his lips. "How you look at me like you can see into my soul... and the way I feel when I know you’re thinking of me even when we’re apart."

You sink deeper into him, the rhythm of his voice steady and comforting, as though each word is a caress, even though his cock is still buried deep inside you, still sending waves of heat through your body.

He pauses, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then continues, his words flowing with an ease that makes you feel treasured.

"I don’t think I ever told you how much I love the way you laugh," he says, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. "It’s like music to me, baby. Every time you giggle, I feel like I could just listen to it forever... it makes me feel like I’m home."

Your heart flutters, and you press back into him, both your hands clutching at his forearms now as his strength surrounds you, offering that steady protection. He leans in closer again, lips brushing your ear as he recites another note.

"I love the way your voice sounds when you say my name," he murmurs softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "How it always has this... this softness to it, but when you want me, it gets all breathy, all needy. It drives me wild, baby."

You sigh softly, feeling that same need stir inside you, your body instinctively rocking ever so slightly on his cock, though you know he’s guiding you to remain still for now.

"And when you wear that babydoll," he adds, his voice dipping lower, "it makes my heart skip a beat every time. It’s like you’re made for me, just like this... so perfect, so delicate."

You shiver at his words, your skin tingling under his touch when he plays with the hem of your lingerie. Your body aches for him to do something more, to give more, but you stay still, focusing instead on his words, on his affection.

He continues feeding you fruit, his hand holding another strawberry to your lips as his words drift around you.

"You remind me of everything beautiful in the world, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice thick with admiration. "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and more. I never knew it was possible to feel so lucky to have someone until I found you."

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, moved by the tenderness in his voice, the pure love that shines through every word. He doesn’t just want you; he adores you, and it makes your heart ache, your body tense with the weight of that realization.

"Fuck, I love you, baby," he murmurs, just barely above a whisper. "So much it hurts.”

“I love you, Lu.” You grip his hand, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles as you lean further back into his chest. You feel him twitch inside you at the slight movement and he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Then his arms tighten around your waist, and he savors the way you tremble in his lap, the way you rock ever so slightly, despite his gentle insistence to stay still.

"You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart," he says, voice low and full of pride. "You’re perfect in every way."

He doesn’t need to say any of this; you know it already. But he does, he tells you daily, and the words settle deep in your heart, warming you from the inside out, making your pulse quicken with a fresh wave of longing.

You start to grind a little again, and he holds your waist firmer.

"Stay still for me, baby," he whispers, but there’s no harshness in his voice. He’s not angry. No, he’s just soft, his tone coaxing and sweet, as if he wants to spoil you, to give you every ounce of pleasure you deserve.

And even though your body is begging for release, you can’t help but obey, staying still, letting him continue to hold you, feed you, speak to you. He weaves his hands through your hair again, adjusting the braid and fixing the flower petals, taking care of you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

"My pretty, pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice full of love and adoration. "I’ll never get tired of having you."

And you can feel it, every word sinking deeper into your soul. The sensation of being loved so completely by him, wrapped up in his arms, makes everything feel so right — so fulfilling.

A few moments later, Luigi shifts slightly under you, his big hands sliding from your hips to your waist. You whimper quietly in protest, but he soothes you with a kiss to your temple, his voice a low, commanding murmur against your skin.

"Off, baby. Turn around for me," he instructs, his tone impossibly tender and sure. "Need to look at you.”

Reluctantly, you lift yourself off his cock, a soft, sticky sound filling the space between you as you rise. You both groan at the loss of connection, but he just guides you, steady and patient, helping you turn in his lap to face him properly again. His cock, slick and glistening with both your arousals, stands between you, aching and thick.

"Good girl," Luigi praises softly as you straddle him again, easing yourself slowly back down onto him. You both moan together as you take him once more, inch by thick, aching inch, until you’re fully seated, stuffed full of him, trembling and clinging to his broad shoulders.

The moment you're settled, Luigi leans back slightly, dark eyes drinking you in like you’re the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His hands stay firm at your hips, keeping you steady on his cock, not letting you move just yet.

You giggle breathlessly, cheeks warm, and reach for the bowl of fruit left forgotten on the table beside you. Grinning playfully, you pluck a strawberry and bring it to his lips.

"Open, Lu," you tease, voice sweet and breathy.

He smiles indulgently, lips parting, and you feed him the berry. He takes it slowly, never looking away from you, chewing lazily as if savoring the taste of your affection just as much as the fruit itself.

Then, a glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes, and you grab a ripe cherry by its stem, twirling it between your fingers.

Still perched pretty on his cock, still feeling him pulsing thick and hard inside you, you lean in closer, batting your lashes up at him, mouth forming a soft, teasing pout. Your tongue flicks out, wrapping around the cherry stem as you pop the fruit into your mouth, sucking it slowly, obscenely, as you grind your hips ever so slightly against him.

Luigi’s pupils dilate instantly, his jaw tightening, nostrils flaring just slightly as he watches you with that heavy, stunned adoration he can never quite hide.

The pad of his thumb strokes your cheekbone tenderly, almost reverently, as if he can't quite believe you're real — his sweet girl, stuffed full of his cock, looking up at him with those wide, helpless eyes.

You moan low in your throat around the cherry, feeling him throb inside you, feeling the heat of him radiate up through your body. And then, still grinding softly on his cock, you begin working the stem between your tongue and teeth, slowly, deliberately tying it into a knot.

A soft, filthy noise vibrates from deep in Luigi’s chest — a strangled growl of possessive pride.

"Fuck, baby girl," he breathes, his hand cupping the back of your neck now, thumb still stroking softly along your jaw.

When you finally finish, you stick out your tongue to show him the knotted stem proudly, cheeks flushed, lips glistening.

"You’re incredible," he murmurs thickly, voice rough around the edges with barely contained need. "That’s my girl. So filthy... and so beautiful for me.”

He leans in and plucks the knotted stem from your tongue with his teeth, tossing it lazily into a nearby napkin, all without looking away from you for a second.

You squirm in his lap, feeling the heat and need growing unbearable now, and you start trying to bounce on his cock, desperate for more friction, more connection, more everything.

But Luigi clamps his hands firmly on your hips, holding you down easily with that calm strength that makes you melt.

"Shh, I told you to keep still," he laughs softly, the sound low and indulgent. "Not yet."

You whine pathetically, trying to move again, but he keeps you pinned.

"You’ll make yourself sick, bouncing on me with all that fruit in your belly," he scolds gently, thumb caressing your cheekbone. "You don’t want that, do you?"

You pout, nuzzling into his neck, your whole body thrumming with need.

"Be good," he murmurs, his arms wrapping fully around you now, his cock buried deep and pulsing inside you. "Just sit here with me and savor this, baby.”

You have no choice but to obey, still stuffed full of him, your walls clenching instinctively around his cock with every tiny shift of your hips, every shivery breath you take.

Luigi’s big hands move up, combing slowly through your hair, fingers weaving carefully through the soft braid, straightening the flower petals nestled within it. His touch is so tender, so loving, it makes tears sting behind your eyes.

He whispers against your temple, smoothing your hair back. "My sweet spring baby."

You moan softly, pressing even closer, clinging to him, your heart feeling too big for your chest.

As he continues combing through your hair, slow and patient, he leans down to nuzzle your ear.

"Where do you want to go tonight?" he murmurs. "Somewhere by the water, maybe? A little trattoria tucked away from the crowds?"

You nod against him, too overwhelmed to answer properly. He smiles against your skin and kisses your hair.

"Whatever you want," he promises. "Decide later."

And so you sit there, wrapped around each other in the golden light, your body stretched wide and full around him, the scent of fruit and sun and salt lingering in the air, your hearts beating in slow, perfect rhythm together.

Despite the comfort, your thighs burn from the effort of staying so still as you’re straddling him. His cock throbs deep inside your soaked, stretched pussy, and you cling tighter to his broad shoulders, breathing him in — that delicious mix of sunscreen, clean sweat, and sun-warmed soap that clings to his skin — while he calmly reaches for another cherry from the bowl beside you.

But before he feeds it to you, Luigi shifts a little, tilting his head to look down between your bodies with lazy, fascinated pleasure.

The mess between you is obscene now. Your slick is everywhere — glistening along the thick base of his cock, smeared wet and sticky over his bare thighs, dripping slowly onto the chair beneath you both. His precum is leaking steadily from his tip, pooling warmly inside you and spilling out around where your bodies are joined.

With a low chuckle, he dips two fingers lazily into the mess gathering along his thigh — thick and shiny and stringing between his skin and yours — and lifts it to your mouth without hesitation.

"Open, dolcezza," he says, voice like velvet, so soft and sure it makes your stomach twist with need.

You part your lips instantly, so obedient, so needy for anything he gives you, and he pushes his fingers between your lips, smearing the taste of you both across your tongue.

You moan around his fingers, cheeks flushing deep red as you taste it — sweet, musky, salty, the proof of how much you want him and how much he wants you, sticky and rich and intimate. He watches you with blown pupils, his thumb brushing so gently over your jaw as you suck on his fingers, tasting every drop.

"That’s it," he praises lowly, slipping his fingers free with a wet pop.

Before you can beg for more, he’s already pressing a cherry to your lips, his thumb wiping a smear of slick from the corner of your mouth tenderly.

"Now this," he says with a crooked smile, slipping the fruit past your lips.

You take it with a soft little whine, still tasting him faintly even as the sweet juice bursts across your tongue. You chew and swallow obediently, rocking your hips ever so slightly on his cock — not enough to disobey, but enough that your clit catches deliciously on the slight movement.

Luigi watches every single twitch and tremble of your body, the veins in both his neck and his cock jumping as he fights to stay patient. His big hands run soothingly up and down your spine, grounding you.

"You’re my messy little girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with pride and hunger. "Look at you... stuffed full of cock, tasting how sweet you are for me."

You whimper brokenly, burying your face against his neck, desperate for more.

But Luigi just combs slowly through your hair again, fingers tugging gently through the petals still braided into the strands, as if you have all the time in the world. As if sitting on his cock like this, soaking him, trembling, dripping, is the most normal and natural thing in the world. At least it is for the both of you.

"I know, baby, I know you’re feeling full. Just rest with me,” he murmurs against your shoulder as your head rests on his.

You moan helplessly, rocking just a little more, chasing any tiny bit of friction you can steal, and Luigi hums a soft warning against your ear.

"Behave yourself," he reminds you, his tone indulgent but firm.

You nod, teary-eyed, nuzzling against him, inhaling the familiar, grounding scent. "You smell so good, Lu," you whisper without thinking, drunk on him.

He chuckles, low and pleased, kissing your temple. Then he shifts under you, his broad hands sliding down to your hips with a firm, grounding touch. You shudder against him as his cock twitches deep inside you, and just when you think you couldn’t possibly need him more, he murmurs low against your temple:

"Sorry, baby."

He pulls out of you in one slow, dragging slide, every thick inch slipping from your soaked pussy with a lewd, wet sound that makes your cheeks burn.

You whine — high and needy — a pathetic, broken noise that spills out before you can even think to stop it, your thighs quivering from the loss of him. The emptiness is devastating, and you chase his cock instinctively, trying to grind yourself back onto him.

"Shh," he coos, his voice deep and teasing. "You crying for your man’s cock?”

You whimper again, burying your face against his neck, but he’s relentless — dragging the head of his cock up between your soaked folds, smearing the mess of your slick and his precum all over you. He’s hot and heavy against your pussy, shaft slick and shining, every vein and ridge glistening with the mixture of your arousal.

Each slow stroke catches on your swollen clit, making you gasp and jerk against him, your thighs shaking with the effort of staying still. His dark pubic hair gets slick too, glistening with the mess you’re making together, sticking slightly to his skin with every lazy grind of his cock against you.

Luigi watches you intently, biting his bottom lip as he drags the thick head against your entrance, against your folds, making everything even wetter, even messier.

"You’re so pretty like this," he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice rough and reverent. "When you’re all messy for me."

He pulls back slightly, smacks his cock against your clit, and you jolt in his lap with a cry, your whole body shivering from the sharp pleasure.

"Sensitive," Luigi murmurs, enjoying the way you melt against him.

You sit there, straddling him, your pink babydoll clinging sweetly to your hips and the tops of your thighs, the delicate sheer fabric already damp where it brushes your messy pussy. The thin straps have slid off your shoulders from all the movement, exposing more glowing, sun-kissed skin. The flowers braided into your hair are slightly askew now — white and pink and yellow petals tangled in the messy strands — and your face is flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with need.

You look like a perfect, ruined angel in his lap — barefoot, beautiful, body trembling and slick, marked by him.

"La mia ragazza," he murmurs, hands running up and down your sides, slow and possessive. "My pretty angel."

He lets his cock rest against your folds, leaking heavily now, the thick bead of precum mixing into the slick already dripping from you, making everything between your legs shine and stick deliciously.

Without warning, he dips his fingers into the mess again — two thick fingers glistening with your combined arousal — and brings them up to your lips.

"Open, sweetheart," he commands gently.

You obey instantly, mouth falling open, tongue lolling out a little. He slides his fingers into your mouth, and you suck greedily, your eyes fluttering closed at the taste of both of you together — musky, salty, sweet.

While his fingers are still in your mouth, he grabs another strawberry with his free hand, holding it to your lips. You moan softly around his fingers and bite into the fruit at the same time, the juice bursting messily across your tongue.

Strawberry juice dribbles down the corners of your mouth, mixing with the sheen of slick already smeared there. A drop nearly splatters onto your babydoll, and Luigi chuckles, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop.

"Careful, baby," he coos, smearing the dripping mixture of strawberry juice and arousal from your mouth across your cheek and chin with slow, teasing strokes. "You’re making such a mess."

You giggle breathlessly, wriggling on his lap, the movement making his cock rub hot and heavy against your folds again.

"Sorry, Lu," you breathe, voice small and sweet and a little ruined. "M'sorry..."

He just smiles fondly, shaking his head slightly as he wipes the juice and slick across your skin like he’s painting you with it, leaving you glistening, marked, utterly his.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs. "You’re perfect. Just gotta be careful... don’t wanna ruin that pretty lingerie, huh? It’s my favorite.”

You shake your head shyly, bottom lip trembling slightly as you lean into his touch, desperate for more, for anything he’ll give you.

"Need you," you whisper, voice cracked and desperate.

"I know," he coos, stroking your hair again, rearranging the disheveled braid and tucking a loose petal behind your ear. "I know, beautiful girl. You’re doing so well for me."

He kisses your messy cheek, tasting the mix of strawberry and salt on your skin, and you sigh, clinging to him, your whole body alight and strung tight.

Still, he doesn't slide back inside you yet. Instead, he keeps rubbing his cock against your folds lazily, smearing every inch of you with slick and precum, making sure you stay messy and desperate in his arms.

And then, so slowly it makes your head spin, he tilts your hips down with a firm hand on your waist and eases just the tip of his cock back inside you.

A slow, hot stretch — your walls parting inch by inch, fluttering around him, welcoming him back in.

You both gasp softly at the feeling.

"There we go," he coaxes, almost a whisper, nuzzling his nose into your temple. "Take me slow, beautiful girl... that's it..."

The thick length of him fills you, spreading you deliciously wide. He rocks you just a little to help you sink lower, his hands steadying you as you moan helplessly against his neck.

"So tight," he mutters, almost reverent. "So warm..."

He counts quietly under his breath, the words vibrating against your skin as you sink down on him:

"One... two... three inches... good girl..."

"Four... five... almost there, sweetheart..."

"Six... seven... that's it, all of it, dolcezza..."

You sob a soft, desperate little noise into his shoulder when you're fully seated again, stuffed full of every thick inch. His cock throbs deep inside you, nestled snug and hot, his pubes brushing damply against your over-sensitive clit.

He presses a slow, heavy-handed smack to your ass, making you jolt on his lap with a sharp gasp.

"Such a good girl for me," he coos, his hand soothing over the spot immediately after, thumb rubbing lazy circles over your hot skin. "You love sitting pretty on my cock, hm?"

You nod, tears stinging your lashes, but he just laughs softly — so in love with you he could drown in it — and kisses your cheek.

And then he murmurs casually against your ear:

"Pick up the flowers, baby."

You blink, confused for a second, so he tips his chin toward the little pile of wildflowers you’d picked earlier, now scattered messily across the kitchen table — tiny white blossoms, pink buds, golden yellow petals.

You reach out, gathering them up carefully, your bare thighs quivering around him.

"Tell me what you picked," he murmurs, one big palm cupping your ass possessively, the other sliding up to tease your breast through the thin, sheer fabric of your babydoll. His thumb flicks slowly over your nipple, making you arch into him helplessly, gasping at the electric shiver it sends through you.

Your voice is breathless, shaky, as you speak:

"Um... white jasmine... pink daisies... I think... and some little... little yellow ones..." You trail off with a whimper as he tweaks your nipple through the fabric, your hips rolling in tiny, instinctive circles over his cock.

"Good girl," he soothes, his voice a low purr against your cheek. "My beautiful baby, picking all the prettiest ones."

He keeps teasing your breast with lazy, possessive strokes, the warmth of his hand branding you even through the thin fabric of your babydoll. The soft petals brush against your wrist as you hold the flowers clumsily, your fingers trembling.

"You’re making such a pretty mess, sweetheart," Luigi murmurs, almost fondly, as he glances down.

Your thighs are glistening even more now, smeared with the mix of slick and precum, and every tiny movement you make presses his cock deeper against that sweet spot inside you, making you gasp.

"You feel so good," you whine against his neck, so overwhelmed you could cry.

"I know, baby," he soothes, planting a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of sunshine, flowers, and your skin.

You look like a dream in his lap: barefoot, pink babydoll hitched high on your hips, petals tangled in your messy braid, your cheeks flushed and shiny with a mix of strawberry juice and slick. His big hand palms your breast slowly, thumbing over your hard nipple, while the other hand holds you steady against him, thick fingers splayed wide over your ass and waist.

"Talk to me, princess," he urges softly, hand squeezing your hip. "Tell me more about your flowers."

You cling to him, babbling shyly about the ones you picked, your breath hitching each time he rocks his hips just a little — enough to grind your clit against his pelvis but not enough to let you ride him properly.

"So pretty," you whisper, voice shaking as you talk about the flowers — but you’re not really talking about the flowers anymore, not when the only thing you can think about is the way he’s keeping you split open around him, stuffed full, so much you can hardly breathe.

"You’re pretty," Luigi murmurs. His big hands roam lazily, petting your messy braid, tracing along your flushed neck, smoothing down your bare spine, until he’s sliding one hand up under the hem of your babydoll. The fabric rides high, baring your ass completely where you sit perched on him.

"Keep talking," he coaxes, thumb brushing teasing circles over the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh. "Don’t get shy on me while you’re stuffed full of my cock, angel. Tell me more about your little flowers, huh?"

You try — you really do — but your breath hitches again, voice breaking when he grinds up into you just slightly harder. Your thighs spasm around his hips. You’re soaked, throbbing, stuffed full, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

And then, while you’re still stammering through your broken sentences, Luigi reaches for the little bowl of fruit again. He selects a plump, ripe strawberry, and holds it up to your lips.

You part your lips obediently just like before, dazed and pliant. He presses the berry into your mouth, smirking when you close your teeth around it — juice immediately spilling over your tongue, sweet and tart, sticky on your lips.

And while you chew and moan softly around the fruit, his free hand slides between your bodies, down the curve of your stomach, slipping under the rucked-up hem of your babydoll.

Two fingers, warm, sure, so achingly slow, find your clit where it's flushed and throbbing, swollen from the constant friction. He starts to rub. Barely any pressure. Just the slightest tease: slow, steady circles.

"Shh, there you go," Luigi coos, nuzzling your temple.

Your whole body trembles, caught between the overwhelming fullness of his cock inside you, the dizzying sweetness of the fruit on your tongue, and the maddening slow tease of his fingers stroking your clit in tight, lazy spirals.

The petals still tangled in your messy braid brush against your flushed shoulders every time you move. Your pink babydoll clings damply to your overheated skin, the sheer fabric riding high over your hips, exposing the soft roundness of your ass where Luigi keeps you pressed tight against him.

He breathes you in — the sweet, sun-warmed scent of your skin and the faint perfume of crushed flowers. His thumb strokes the corner of your mouth, smearing a bit of sticky strawberry juice there, and you whimper at the gentle touch.

Your breath hitches when Luigi finally tilts your chin up with two fingers, the pad of his thumb sweeping across your sticky, strawberry-smeared lips. He looks at you like he’s starving: hazel eyes burning, jaw flexed.

"Come here, baby," he says, low and soft.

You barely have time to react before his mouth crashes down on yours, urgent and hungry. The kiss is messy from the start — open-mouthed, desperate, the taste of sweet fruit and your own need coating both your tongues as you moan helplessly into him.

His tongue pushes deep into your mouth, tasting the lingering syrupy strawberry juice and the faint taste of his precum mixed with your slick from earlier. You whine into him, hips instinctively grinding down against his lap.

You feel him smile into the kiss — that lazy, cocky smirk you know so well — but he still doesn’t let you move too much. His big hands lock around your hips, squeezing hard enough to bruise, guiding you into slow, heavy grinds against the thick heat inside you without letting you lift up, not even an inch.

"No," he murmurs against your mouth when you try to bounce, voice deep and teasing. "I’ll let you grind now, baby, but don’t bounce.”

You nod, dizzy, clinging to his shoulders. Then he slides his hands higher, gripping the soft curve of your ass in both palms, kneading and squeezing like he owns you — and he does, with the way you’re stretched open, helpless, gasping into his mouth.

In one rough, smooth motion, he pulls the top of your babydoll down, baring your breasts to the cool air of the kitchen. Your nipples harden instantly, flushed and sensitive.

Luigi groans low in his throat when he pulls back — you’re so beautiful, so messy, perched on his cock in your soft pink lingerie, your braid loose and falling apart, petals sticking in your tangled hair.

"Look at you," he breathes, dragging his mouth down from yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, then the sticky line of your jaw, down to your neck. "My sweet, messy girl."

You feel the rough scrape of his unshaven jaw against your throat as he nips and kisses and savors every inch of you he can reach. One big hand comes up to cup your breast — his palm broad and calloused, so warm — and he thumbs your nipple, the motion timed with the slow, shallow grinds of your hips.

Your whole body rocks gently— stuffed so full of him you feel every throb, every twitch of his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Yeah, baby, come on, I got you,” he coos, and you shudder when he bites your lower lip, pulling gently before kissing you again, sloppier this time — tongues tangling, sharing the taste of fruit, heat and pure aching want.

You pull back and hum innocently, fluttering your lashes at him — and then, you reach over to the bowl of fruit to pluck a bright red cherry.

"For you," you whisper, your voice still breathless and dainty, like a little secret between you.

Luigi laughs low in his chest, and you feel his cock twitch at the sight of you all flushed and sparkling, offering him something so small and sweet. He parts his lips, and you pop the cherry in.

He eats the fruit, and then you watch, wide-eyed and beaming, as he works the stem between his tongue and teeth, slow and deliberate. His eyes stay locked on yours — heavy-lidded, dark and amused — as his tongue moves inside his mouth, twisting and curling with casual skill.

You wriggle a little on his lap, grinding down just a tiny bit, feeling his cock pulse inside you, thick and hot. He hums, the sound vibrating against your chest where you're pressed together, and after a few more seconds, he sticks his tongue out — revealing the cherry stem tied into a perfect little knot, just like you’d showed him earlier.

You dissolve into soft, sweet giggles, hiding your face against his shoulder as he laughs, pulling you closer.

"Che ragazza cattiva," he teases softly — what a naughty girl — one hand stroking up your spine, the other squeezing your ass gently as you squirm in his lap.

You lift your head again, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with giddy affection. He catches your face in both hands — so big, so careful — and kisses you sloppily, without any hurry, tongues tangling and lips sticky with fruit and need.

You melt against him completely, moaning quietly into his mouth when his cock twitches again inside you, sending another lazy wave of pleasure through your body.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both grinning, foreheads pressed together, breathing eachother in.

"You’re a dream," he murmurs, soft as he brushes a few stray flower petals from your tangled braid.

You nod, dizzy and dainty and perfect in his arms, and you snuggle into him — still stuffed full, still sparkling with strawberry juice and love and a mess only he could make of you.

🍒

tags: @luiluvr @velvet-kissesss @multi-culti-girl @annanotherthingg @palmersluvr @lilbadblueeee @fligniuz @briarloves @daydreamingwithluigi @alleviatcd @mangionesdoll @dracula-reborn @bambimangione

I can’t stop thinking about Luigi overstimulating you while smirking absolutely pleased with himself that he can wreck you so easily 😩🫦🫦

COCKY MEN ARE MY FAVE HEHEH

Ugh imagine… you’re an actual mess under him. Your eyes can’t stay open, mascara smearing down your cheeks, your voice is horse, throat dry, limbs limp. You’re spent. But Luigi thinks he can pull another orgams out of you. One last one.

“Baby I know you can go another round”.

You don’t even have it in you to deny it. He uses his huge hands to pry your legs open. Placing one hand on your inner thigh to keep you from closing them. He uses his free hand to guide his pulsing dick over your slit. Rubbing it against your clit. You jolt at the feeling, whining out loud.

“I can’t” you whimper

“Yes you can, bambina. Come on, one more for me, hm?” He’s smiling above you. He knows you’ll obey him.

You simply nod, and he carries on, sliding the head of his cock over your slit, over and over.

“Yeahh that feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks

“Yeahh” you sigh out.

He enters you, slowly, stretching you out so perfectly. You use the last ounce of energy left to lift your arms, covering your mouth, muffling the moans and mewls from your mouth.

“No no baby I wanna hear them” Luigi says, lowering your hands.

You drop your hand, trying to focus on Luigi. Trying to focus on what’s going on between your legs. His movements become more erratic as he gets closer to his own orgasm. You’re so sensitive now. You’re practically pulsing, clit rubbed raw.

Luigi’s looking down at you, smiling, as your eyes roll to the back of your head. You place a hand on his abs, trying to get him to let up. He moves your hand away without a word and begins pounding into you at a sinful pace.

Each time he enters he bottoms out, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. The pain and pleasure is too much and you squirm under him. He places one hand in your chest the other under your thigh holding you in place.

“Don’t fucking move.” He orders.

You curse and try to stay as still as possible. Your legs are shaky, chest heaving and arms weak.

“Please please please” you chant. “Tooo much”

He continues his pace, grunting as he cums. His hips stutter and he pushes in one final time, spilling into you. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing desperately pulling a final orgasm out of you and you scream out.

He quickly shoves his fore and middle finger into your mouth to stifle your moans. You bite down as you writhe under him, the pleasure becoming too much. You feel hot tears spilling down your cheeks as you try to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

You look up to see Luigi smiling down at you. “I knew to had another one in you” he laughs.

“One last round” he asks, smirking.