yes ma’am ♥ you always look good enough to be served, nami, but now— fuck. you look so hot in that.
[ It’s not as though Sanji needs an excuse to be excited— he’s already achingly stiff, already feeling that familiar thrill that only comes out when they’re being particularly filthy— but if he did, Nami’s photo would’ve given him one, the sight of her in lingerie always enough to steal his breath away and set his blood on fire with how bad he wants her. It’s certainly something he’s thinking about as he slowly fucks his ass with his fingers and then with the plug, the image of her vivid even behind his eyelids, curiousity and excitement running amuck in his brain. They’ve never tried anything quite like this, but the thought of Nami being in charge— of her telling him what to do and praising (or punishing) him for his efforts— is enough to leave his body thrumming with excitement.
It’s no wonder he takes things a little far— furiously jerking himself off once the plug is all the way in, stealing glances at the picture she’s sent him, pleasuring himself until it’s all too much to handle— once the plug is in. Caught up in the heat of the moment, it doesn’t even occur to him that he might be looking forward to being punished as much he’s looking forward to being praised until he feels another thrill after reading her reply, teeth biting his bottom lip as he feels another thrill at her words. ]
i’m sorry :(
[ Sanji doesn’t bother cleaning himself up— she didn’t tell him to do that and, besides, he has a feeling she’d rather see the evidence of his wickedness splattered on his chest and belly. Capping the lube and putting it on the dresser table, he’s quick to exit the room, an almost guilty, recalcitrant look on his face as he closes the door behind him. It’s after the door’s closed that he finally sinks to his knees, just as she asked him to do, lips parted as he looks over at her, the apology dying on his tongue when he sees— ]
Fuck— you aren’t wearing any panties— I mean—
[ Her legs aren’t spread particularly far apart, but even so, he can still see the bare folds of her cunt, and how slickly swollen they are. Any other time, he’d stumble the few steps forward and bury his face between her legs, tongue drawing a hot, wet line over her slit with a husky groan as the taste of her arousal set his head spinning. And he’s so damn tempted to say fuck their plans and do just that— that’s how good she looks, even with the plug in his ass to remind him that he’s supposed to be her puppy— cock giving an obscene little twitch as he looks at her with open, greedy hunger on his face, but instead, he remains where he is, forcing his gaze down, staring down at the floor instead and trying to emulate a dejected looking puppy. ]
no subject
[ It’s not as though Sanji needs an excuse to be excited— he’s already achingly stiff, already feeling that familiar thrill that only comes out when they’re being particularly filthy— but if he did, Nami’s photo would’ve given him one, the sight of her in lingerie always enough to steal his breath away and set his blood on fire with how bad he wants her. It’s certainly something he’s thinking about as he slowly fucks his ass with his fingers and then with the plug, the image of her vivid even behind his eyelids, curiousity and excitement running amuck in his brain. They’ve never tried anything quite like this, but the thought of Nami being in charge— of her telling him what to do and praising (or punishing) him for his efforts— is enough to leave his body thrumming with excitement.
It’s no wonder he takes things a little far— furiously jerking himself off once the plug is all the way in, stealing glances at the picture she’s sent him, pleasuring himself until it’s all too much to handle— once the plug is in. Caught up in the heat of the moment, it doesn’t even occur to him that he might be looking forward to being punished as much he’s looking forward to being praised until he feels another thrill after reading her reply, teeth biting his bottom lip as he feels another thrill at her words. ]
i’m sorry :(
[ Sanji doesn’t bother cleaning himself up— she didn’t tell him to do that and, besides, he has a feeling she’d rather see the evidence of his wickedness splattered on his chest and belly. Capping the lube and putting it on the dresser table, he’s quick to exit the room, an almost guilty, recalcitrant look on his face as he closes the door behind him. It’s after the door’s closed that he finally sinks to his knees, just as she asked him to do, lips parted as he looks over at her, the apology dying on his tongue when he sees— ]
Fuck— you aren’t wearing any panties— I mean—
[ Her legs aren’t spread particularly far apart, but even so, he can still see the bare folds of her cunt, and how slickly swollen they are. Any other time, he’d stumble the few steps forward and bury his face between her legs, tongue drawing a hot, wet line over her slit with a husky groan as the taste of her arousal set his head spinning. And he’s so damn tempted to say fuck their plans and do just that— that’s how good she looks, even with the plug in his ass to remind him that he’s supposed to be her puppy— cock giving an obscene little twitch as he looks at her with open, greedy hunger on his face, but instead, he remains where he is, forcing his gaze down, staring down at the floor instead and trying to emulate a dejected looking puppy. ]