Tongue Twister - Blog Posts

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Tongue Twister

summary: a PWP drabble highlighting Wally Clark's addiction to eating your pussy like a man possessed.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. oral sex (cunnilingus).

bon reading, frens

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Fuck. God. Wally's starving for it. Can practically taste it through your panties as he nuzzles his face against you, his eyes rolling back, lips parting as he pants like a fucking dog for it.

He forgot his History homework, football practice ran late, Simon needed a ride. It was all in all a stressful day, and then Wally was on his way home like a good boy when the craving struck. T-boned his limbic system and made him rabid for it. For you.

He didn't give you a chance. No politesse; no greeting; no indication whatsoever that this was where today's drop-in was going. At least Wally called (when he was already at your front door, licking his chops as he fantasized about tasting you). It felt like it was years and not the handful of hours it was since he last had you, the itch steadily barreling toward fucking rampage.

As soon as you answered the door, he crowded you back inside to the couch; shoved you seated and stripped you from the waist down without a word. Dropped to his knees at the altar, large hands spread your legs, and now there he is, making out with your pussy through thin cotton, moaning like the position is reversed.

"Baby," He whines, fingers hooked in the elastic of your panties, "Please, let me—" He gently sucks your clit through the fabric, tongues through the imprint of your folds, "Please, let me taste you, baby. I can't—" He cuts himself off with a hungry groan as he peels your panties down and off your legs.

Oh fuck, the weak little moan you release makes his head spin and his cock throb, and in an instant, he pulls you to the floor with him. You straddle his waist as he kisses you senseless, his hands on your thighs directing you upward.

"Want you to sit on my face, baby, come on," His tone begging, his eyes heavy-lidded and hot, so soulfully sweet that you can't say no. Wally rambles as you adjust, pussy hovering over his mouth, and oh God yes, he's so close to getting what he wants. "I need it so bad, I can't get enough, I need to taste you, baby..."

His big hands slide up your thighs to grip your ass, squeezing to encourage you to settle your weight on his face. He can take it, just let him, fuck, please, just let him. Once he has you where he needs you, he inhales deeply, groans in pleasure when your scent fills his nostrils. His cock throbs again, aching for you, for this. He wants you more than food, water, oxygen. More than anything.

Wally closes his eyes, fingers digging into your flesh, and he finally leans in. Presses his tongue flat against your slit and inhales again. He tastes your soft lips, kisses you gently, and chokes out a needy whimper. Fuck, you're so wet for him. And you taste so fucking good; heavenly nectar, sweet ambrosia, it's all he ever wants to taste again.

His brain melts completely when you start to grind against his mouth, and, yeah, that's it baby, just like that, take what you want. Those pretty sighs and tight whines that spill out of you make his cock twitch in his jeans and he humps the air, so fucking desperate to alleviate the ache, but unwilling to do anything about it until he's satisfied you. He grips your ass more firmly, holding you down as his tongue darts in and out, probes as deep as he can get it.

Wally wants to say your name, but all he can manage like this is a long, feverish groan; blissed-out gibberish that he spells on your clit with the pointed tip of his tongue before returning to kiss your pussy deeply, lovingly, with restless obsession.

You taste so damn good that he can't think. He groans into you again, his tongue moving in and out, teasing and exploring as he tries to get deeper. His hands knead your ass in a possessive, wanting grasp, like he's eager to keep you there above him, like he never wants this to end. He needs you so fucking badly now and always.

"Wally, oh fuck, you're gonna make me come..." And he can feel how close you are, your thighs trembling as you rub your pussy against his mouth. Every shiver and shake accentuated by a sweet moan or whimper that goes straight to his cock. He wants more of those sounds. Every single one of them.

He quiets, low moans replaced by heavy breathing as he works you toward the edge. He's so hard just from this; craving your touch, yearning for it, his lust consuming any hope of rational thought. He presses a little harder, tongue moving faster and more desperately, wanting to please you as much as he can. Wanting you to fucking use him as much as he needs you to.

"Please, Wally, I'm so close!"

F u u u c k, that plea, that tone, triggers him; makes him plunge his tongue deeper as he presses you down and holds you still. The sounds you make and the way you react to his ministrations—God, he promises to be so fucking good for the rest of his life so long as he always has this. It's almost enough to make him come in his jeans. He needs to hear you fall apart. Needs to be the reason it happens. And he knows just how to do it.

Wally pulls his tongue out of you long enough to say, "Come for me, baby, let me have it, please." Doesn't give you a chance to respond before he leans in again, tongue flicking your clit, lips and teeth grazing over it. A deep moan of pure longing escapes him as he sucks and swirls his tongue over your clit, his breathing ragged, cheeks flushed, oh God, he needs you to fucking soak his mouth and chin.

Finally, yes, baby, he laps up your sweet juices when you come, sobbing in pleasure as he drinks it all down. Slurps and groans greedily, tongue working you until you plead for him to stop, too much, I can't—Jesus, he loves having the evidence of how he makes you feel on his face.

"Mmm, thank you," He sighs as he pats your hip, signaling for you to rise so he's able to shift positions. Wally sits up, gathers you in his arms, and licks his lips, the inside of his jeans wet where his come stained the denim. He looks down at you with a lopsided, sated grin, his eyes still at half-mast.

"Feel better?" You ask through a hazy smile.

"Much better." He murmurs. Rubs his hands up and down your legs as he gazes at you like a 5-star buffet.

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also on AO3!

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Alphabet Soup.

smut. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several non-linear stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.(Janet and Wally are dating to increase their social value. meanwhile, Wally wants to get closer to her step-sister. you.)