[Such cheeky vibrations against an already sensitive spot bought Wanda a loud gasp on top of her already present moans. The usually quiet spider was certainly not, though never as loud as Wanda could get. A hand slid over her own breast, grabbing and teasing it, toying with her own nipple, as she continued to meet ever deeper thrusts and hot licks with her hips.
Mind captured by Wanda, Widowmaker thought not of her dead husband or what had once been, not of lost innocence or torturous procedures. Instead she thought of the full feeling from Wanda's touch, the precise attack at her swollen and aching clit. Of not having to take and being okay with giving, not guarding so fiercely.
The next orgasm was longer than the last, and Widowmaker writhed on her bed.]
no subject
Mind captured by Wanda, Widowmaker thought not of her dead husband or what had once been, not of lost innocence or torturous procedures. Instead she thought of the full feeling from Wanda's touch, the precise attack at her swollen and aching clit. Of not having to take and being okay with giving, not guarding so fiercely.
The next orgasm was longer than the last, and Widowmaker writhed on her bed.]