Cevisa was alone in a cold, dark room. Midnight hair tickled her back to spite the gloom. She had long since given up shivering, naked though she was. It was an unwelcoming waiting room, but the light of hope kept her spirits high.
The stone below burned against her knees. Above, applause and stampedes alternated with increasing intensity. More people were filing in and more people were cheering as the day drew to a close. For the final contenders, the crowd would be deafening. For him, they might start a riot.
But until he arrived, Cevisa was alone in the spartan cell. She would endure anything until then, but she conceded that the floor was harsh on her knees, her posture was uncomfortable for every other bone in her body, and the frequent breezes, well, she could do entirely without those.
Still, she knelt with her head bowed, huddling inward as much as she could while still maintaining the proper form. She should be on her knees, ready for her sacred duty when he arrived. To be overly excited or to show weakness to the weather would be unbecoming. Any small error on her part could jeopardize his performance.
A wave of stamping feet and cheers died down, only to be immediately replaced by the clamour of a thousand bodies in motion. The last match was over, but was it time for his?
The dull padding of footsteps answered her question. From the room’s sole entrance, he emerged. Half-clad in his armor, he stood in the doorway and took not one step further. His stony features betrayed no emotion, he did not even look at the sole occupant of the room.
But the spell was cast. On her hands and knees, Cevisa crawled forward. Between her passion and her dedication to form, she forgot about her discomfort. Her knees no longer burned, even though they now dragged upon the stone floor. Her free tits jerked and bounced against drafty bursts, but all she felt was pleasure.
Her wide, youthful eyes drank in every facet of his radiance. The broad scarred shoulders padded with thick cloth, the chiseled legs that would support her, the glinting eyes already set on the danger ahead. It was her duty to prepare him for that danger in the only way that she knew how. If she did her job and he did his, then this ritual would repeat in a week, a month, and that was all she wanted in this moment.
Her pace doubled and tripled with no regard for the pain when his hand casually drifted down. He still did not look at her as the flaps of cloth parted to reveal a plain cock, but a cock that she loved more than anything in the world.
Her legs dragged tightly together, bringing almost overwhelming stimulation. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the only reminder of the cold air. It clung and grew with each squeezing pull of a leg forward. It took nearly every ounce of willpower to ignore the urge to slide a hand back and finish herself then and there.
If there could possibly be any willpower not used for that particular restraint, it was used to prevent any attempts to fling herself upon that cock and wrap herself around her knight. The very thought of him filling her was enough to nearly trip her up.
With mere paces left between her and her prize, she struggled vainly to ignore the degradation of her circumstances. Her, naked on the floor, crawling towards the worship of a man, that delicious, beautiful cock, it was all too much to bear. Such thoughts would need to wait until a more appropriate time.
At long last, she was there. Slowly, she rose up onto her knees and reached out shaking hands. They found familiar warmth on the back of his sculpted legs and she dug in with her fingers, just to get a little closer.
She knew she was salivating, but she didn’t care. Hot, heavy pants through a gaping mouth were stifled when she took him into her. It was cute and little enough that she could do it easily, so she took the opportunity to breathe in all of his wonderful scents. The salty sweat, the faintness of soap, but most of all, that overpowering musk that belonged to him alone. It poured forth from that slit between his beauty and the outside world, but she was determined to absorb every last bit.
With each heaving breath, she worked her tongue out a little bit more. With his cock still manageable, she explored into that slit from whence he came. Between the layers and layers of cloth, coarse on the outside and soft on the inside, the tip of her tongue searched for her current prizes.
She founded them quickly enough, as she always did, bundled together against a leg. With each gasping breath, her tip licked and pulled, getting a little closer each time. Soon, she could taste him and nothing else. Her nose buried in his flesh and her cheeks squished against him, she could smell nothing but his wonderful sweat. Quick laps freed the captives and guided them outward. She felt new wetness envelop her pussy as he gave the faintest quiver above her.
Now, with his balls freed and hanging beneath his growing cock, she repeated one of her favorite steps over and over. She slid forward, tilting her head to the side to fit it all inside her. She pulled back, forcing out the dripping sack and letting it slide back to a rest. Back and forth she went, ecstatic as she measured the progress of his cock down her throat.
It wasn’t long before she had to abandon the balls altogether. The cock was simply too much to handle alone. Still, the process continued as she impaled herself upon his wondrous spear, alternating between gentle kisses and forceful rams. She began to gag, as much due to the merits of his cock as her own need to catch her breath.
She sloppily withdrew, wildly lashing with her tongue as she went. She looked up, straining to see through the tears. His eyes were closed.
Not wanting to raise alarm, she steadily withdrew a hand from his leg, careful to maintain her balance. She licked and kissed the tip, making as little noise as she could.
As soon as her fingers were clear, they flew between her legs, sliding through dripping hair and groping everything. In and around, she vibrated and shook as she alleviated the building pressure. Alas, her poise could not last forever and a powerful moan broke free.
Her fearful eyes glanced upward as she returned her hand to his leg. He was looking down, but he didn’t look displeased. He must not have seen. That amplified her pleasure tenfold.
More than anything else, the sheer disdain with which he regarded her self-pleasure drove Cevisa wild. The idea that she must wholly exist to please him and that her own needs were not only unnecessary, but despicable, that was the untapped essence of her passion. The very thought of stealing release under his watchful gaze was a fertile and limitless source of inspiration.
Her attention returned to her other lips. In spite of the excitement, her breath had returned to her. She started to bob her head, drowning herself in the glory of his full cock. A quarter, a quarter, a half, a half, three quarters, too much, a half.
She bounced back and forth, getting into a rhythm as his cock thrust deeper and deeper into her desperate mouth. Her tits jerked and bounced as she put more and more into it. She clung to the backs of his beautifully manly legs more and more as she dragged herself forward again and again. Her begging spit dripped down onto her tits, only to be flung about as she rammed that cock harder and harder down her throat.
She lost all notions of gagging or stopping. She filled her throat again and again and again as she stopped trying to slurp and lick. In the end, it always came down to an orgasmic session of facefucking. She started to fall into a trance as his cock somehow managed to feel a little deeper with every ram.
Spots in her vision started to appear, but she pushed and pulled on. Above, she could barely make out a faint outline. The tears, the force of the facefucking, the darkness, it all conspired to hide his face from her. Was he close? Was he displeased? She had no way of knowing, so she just kept fucking his cock with her willing lips and tongue. It glided down that wet passage over and over again. There was no more resistance to be had.
Cevisa could feel her mind slipping away. She would soon pass out, but she wouldn’t give up before then. She would make him cum if-
“You ready? You’re on in five!”
The voice came from somewhere beyond, but it was far away. It had little effect on her, but he was a different story.
WIth colossal hands, he cupped the back of her head. Without any further warning, he facefucked her harder than she had ever felt before. He pounded his cock into her mouth without mercy or regard.
That alone was enough to propel her far beyond the point of no return, though the mere act of grasping her head had likely been enough on its own. Her legs shuddered, her hands spasmed, her vision blacked out, and she lost her balance.
She fell backwards, narrowly shielding her head with her hands before she hit the cold stone floor. The ecstasy that bloomed between her legs fought ferociously with her shame at having failed him.
A tentative peek upward found him standing with his cock in hand. She still couldn’t quite see his expression. His hand slowly slid up and down the shaft, slurping every inch of the way. Barely free from her first burst of pleasure, she could already feel another welling up on the horizon. The sight of him playing with himself, helped by her spit, it was too much to bear.
She began to rise, pushing herself up, but a hard boot gently pressed down on her shoulder. Confused, she let herself drop the last few inches. She struggled to get a better view of him, but she couldn’t see anything on his face. She moved to wipe the tears away, but she had no time.
A thick warmth exploded on her nose. She barely had time to blink before a thick string spurted across both eyelids. She moaned and gasped at the same time, not caring what sound came out. The sticky rain continued to fall, marking cheeks, lips, ears, and hair.
She couldn’t contain herself any longer. Even as it continued to fall, her left hand shot down between her legs, while she simultaneously tightened her legs together and crossed them. She forced her fingers in and flexed, stimulating everything she possibly could.
With her tongue, she searched for every drop of cum she could find. When that became fruitless, she used her free hand as well, clawing and scooping at the glazed mask that she now wore. Some, she tasted, some, she swallowed, but she enjoyed it all. She reveled in the warmth of her reward, even as she raced to reach her own bliss.
She sprawled out on the floor, relishing the stark contrast between hot cum and cold stone. With one hand, she still gently rubbed. With the other, she smeared cum on her tits, first just the nipples, then everywhere. She could not think beyond simple amazement at the quantity of love that he had produced for her. She squeezed her tits together, she gentle pulled on nipples, she inserted a finger within, she came. It was nice, but it was only a fraction as rewarding as his explosive cum.
She faintly heard footsteps growing quieter, but that was no longer her concern. She had performed her duty, now she was free to bask in his glory, and bask she would.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/83t1dr/the_cum_before_the_storm_mffantasyblowjob