Curate, connect, and discover
With Polnareff
Cw: somnophilia (obvs), overstimulation, creampie, oral (f recieving), fingering (f recieving)
The last month and a half had been absolutely grueling for Polnareff. Sure, he’d been away from time to time, but never this long, and his trips were never that dangerous. It was safe to say that Polnareff was more than happy to finally be home, to finally be able to let his guard down and see his lady again.
He had returned home around midday, surprising you as you put away groceries, quietly coming in and helping you finish before saying anything. You had screamed in fear, and then excitement as you realized the intruder was your Jean.
“Jean,” you called, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. He’d backed you against the refrigerator and kissed you until you couldn't see straight before pulling away and greeting you. You had spent the rest of the day catching up with Jean-Pierre and fussing over him, treating the remaining scrapes and bruises that littered his body. You had also cooked his favorite meal for him, despite his protests that you don’t have to lift another finger for him.
The two of you had gone to bed, both thoroughly exhausted by today’s excitement , cuddled up against each other, sleeping in what Jean called ‘French style”, though most just called it sleeping nude. He wasn’t particularly wrong though, Southern France was known for its nude beaches. You fell asleep thinking about how the two of you would have to go on vacation to Nice again now that he was home safe.
Polnareff had woken up early the next morning, sighing contentedly knowing that he had nothing to worry about today except what to wear and maybe what drink he would have with dinner. The rising sun was a rich orange color as it began creeping through the blinds, allowing Polnareff to take you in, tracing his fingers down your side, admiring the slopes of your body, running his large hands along the curve of your ass and down your thigh, eliciting a soft sound out of you. Suddenly he felt as if he had neglected you the night before. A beautiful woman, his beautiful woman had waiters on him all day and he hadn;t even had the decency to eat her out. Where were his manners?
The two of you were very comfortable and sexually liberal when it came to each other. and the list of things you had agreed against was quite short, nothing that would ruin the sheets, mostly . He remembered all the time he had woken up to you giving him sleepy morning head, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, whimpering softly as you bobbed your head, making strands of your messy hair fall in your face. He could always return the favor.
He thought about how much he had missed you as he let his hand fall lazily between your thighs, nudging them apart just enough for him to slide his fingers right where he wanted them. His pointer and ring fingers traced along your labia, while his middle finger dipped between your folds, gathering some of your arousal and returning to slide along your clit, drawing another whine from your lips. When he was finally satisfied with how wet you had gotten under his touch he moved from his place behind you and eased himself between your legs, kissing up and down your thighs before, burying his face where he wanted to be most.
Polnareff was always content to eat pussy, but this was different. It felt like it had been forever since he had made love to you, and he had spent his entire trip terrified he wouldn’t make it home. But he had, and now he was here, listening to the soft sounds of pleasure you were making above him, and the way your thighs squeezed his head and your hands pawed weakly at the sheets had him throbbing and unconsciously pushing his hips into the mattress as he eases two fingers into you. God, you were making such a mess on his face, but he didn’t care, he didn’t want it any other way.
“Jean,” you whine, your hands finally finding his hair and tugging at it gently. He can’t tell if you’re still asleep or not, but he doesn’t care because it's obvious that he’s making you feel good. Finally he decides he can’t take it anymore and and carefully crawls up the bed, resting his weight on the one hand whole the other rubs up and down your side as he dips his head down to kiss your neck, leaving a sloppy combination of your arousal and his saliva as he does. The hand not supporting him moves between your bodies and finds his sensitive erection and lines it up with your entrance, easing into you slowly and groaning when he bottoms out inside you.
He sits up and rests his hands on your waist, his fingers wrapping around your hips and his thumbs rubbing along your belly as he slowly rolls his hips against yours, feeling how wet you are and how well you take him. It’s enough to drive a man to madness.
“Fuck,” He breathes, fighting the urge to just pound into you, but this was about you after all.
“I missed this so much, Jean,” you whisper, drawing his attention away from how horny he is.
“Me too. How long have you been awake, mon chou?”
“Long enough, now come on,” you tease, bumping your hips against his, making him drop his forehead to yours and groan. “Do you want me on top?”
“No, this is about you,” he hums, pulling out and teasing his tip against your clit making your body jerk at the sensation.
“I see. From behind then,” you question, rolling your hips away from him and sliding your leg up to give him a better view of your ass.
“If that’s what makes my lady happy,” he replies, flipping you over and pushing back into you smoothly, one hand squeezing your hip, guiding you into his thrusts and the other pushing a palm into the small of your back, letting him have a deeper angle.
Before you know it you’re a shaking mess beneath Jean, pathetic noises falling from your lips every time his hand brushes against your skin, drool pooling on the mattress beside your head. Every move you make is jerky and uncalculated and your hips rut back against his involuntarily, further overstimulating yourself.
Jean pulls out of you slowly, groaning at the sight of cum oozing out of you, a mixture of his pleasure and yours. It was enough to make him want to go again, but he wasn’t sure he could do that without your brain melting out of your skull, so he just lays down beside you and pulls you back into his body. You whine at the contact, but quickly relax into his arms.
“How was that, mon Coeur,” he questions, brushing your hair from your face and wiping as much of the drool away as he could with his thumb.
“Mhh, Jean, it was s’good,” you slur, grabbing onto his forearms tightly, still trying to ground yourself despite Polnareff’s body pressed against your back. “Was too good.”
“Never heard that one before, I’ll be sure to stop when you tell me not to next time.”
“Jean,” you whine, tilting your head back to get a glimpse of your messy-headed lover.
“I’m kidding, I’m always a servant of love,” he laughs, pulling you closer.
“Jean?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sleepy again.”
“Then we’ll just stay in bed.”