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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 23rd

Deepthroating & Facesitting, Mary Goore x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Deepthroating; skull fucking; face sitting; public; exhibitionism; sex in a cemetery; cunnilingus; fingering; fellatio; vaginal sex; piv; unprotected sex; fear play; biting; elements of dubcon but not really dubcon; rough sex; praise kink; degradation kink (you know the drill by now); hair pulling; watersports;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

In the quiet, serene, and solemn embrace of the mist-laden morning, you walked hand in hand with Mary and ventured into the ancient, moss-covered graveyard - a morning tradition that spun the entire length of October. The misty air shrouded the weathered, weather-beaten tombstones, creating an eerie, mystical atmosphere. Tall, gnarled trees with their twisted, skeletal branches cast long, haunting shadows on the hallowed ground below. Your steps echo softly on the cobblestone path, leading you deeper into the melancholic, hauntingly beautiful cemetery.

It was always silent this early in the morning, even the birds were still asleep as your footsteps tracked through the frost-bitten grass and chilly gravel beneath you. Every snap of a twig in the distance had your heart pounding with worry and Mary’s throat to come alive with a chuckle. This was the perfect scene for a horror movie: two lovers exploring a place they shouldn’t be getting picked off individually by a mysterious stranger using the mist as a cloak. Mary would be the first to go; and you’d find him battered and bruised but alive, only to watch him suffer and perish at the hands of a monster.

A crypt sat in one of the corners of the cemetery, proud yet ominous with its intimidating Gothic arched door and stone walls. The glass windows were dirty with decades - if not centuries - of dirt, and the heavy, mahogany door, weather-damaged and rotting, was locked tightly shut by a rusted chain and lock. The crypt once belonged to the town’s founding father, the wealthiest family in the cemetery. For as long as you’d known him, Mary had been desperate to get inside to piss on the richest coffin around but he’d always been unsuccessful. Today, though, he wanted to try again.

You watched him rattle the door, hands wrapped firmly around the rusted handles and tug on it, trying to shift it even a little but to no avail. “I’m gonna go check the back,” he announced, “wait right here.”

“Mary, can’t we just carry on and enjoy the place while we still have it?”

“Babe, if we can get in there, just think of what I could do to you.” He winked and placed a kiss to your forehead. “Stay here. I’ll come back and get you.”

You don’t know why you did as he asked you to. You weren’t scared per se, the silence of the cemetery filled you with nothing but peace and you felt safe in the knowledge that most of the surrounding residents were still tucked up in bed as the sun was beginning to rise. But you were still exceptionally cautious, knowing that it was all the normal people who were in bed. The crazies were up and wandering as you stood there: the drug addicts, the dunkards, the criminals who operated under the shadow of the night were also out and about, making their way home after a night of who-knows-what. Ghosts didn’t scare you. The dead didn’t make you afraid - but the living did.

You tried to peak into the crypt, wiping some of the dirt with your index finger but realising it was pointless when you saw the layer that had swiped off onto your hand. You weren’t even sure what you were trying to see, perhaps you were just looking for something to do. But your concentration turned out to be a detriment to you, and the reason why what happened next occurred.

All you heard were two heavy footsteps thumping quickly on the dead leaves surrounding the crypt before hands came and gripped your body, the force of it causing you to drop your bag to the floor. A weight pushed you further into the stone walls and pinning you against them, one of those hands gripped onto your hip, the other came up to your mouth to silence you. A whimper escaped you, muffled by the cold hand of the person behind you - a whimper of fear, certainly, but there was an element of arousal in it too.

“You looked so delicious standing there alone and scared.” Mary’s voice sounded in your ear, so low it was almost a growl. “You looked so fuckin’ vulnerable. Easy pickings.” He pressed his body further into yours and you could feel his cock, rock solid but restrained in his jeans. “I can’t wait until we get home, baby girl. I’m taking you now whether you like it or not.”

His hand that was on your hip began groping whatever body part it could find. At first, he grasped hold of your ass cheek and firmly held it, but then he moved higher and higher until he was groping your breast, rough with his touches and squeezing you as he pleased. His mouth, now silent, moved closer to your ear and trapped the sensitive appendage between his teeth, nibbling and biting a little harder than usual. He released your mouth from his hand knowing that you wouldn’t let out an unwanted scream, and used that hand to fiddle with your clothes, pulling your skirt up to give him access to your panties. “Thank fuck you’re wearing a skirt today, baby.” He commented as he rutted himself into you, seeking desperate pleasure from your body.

Your panties were quite literally ripped off your hips - the sound of the fabric tearing filling up the surrounding cemetery and making you gasp at the force he’d used. Once you were bare for him, he gripped onto your shoulders, turned you round and pushed you to your knees. His hands came to work at his jeans, undoing them and freeing himself from them. “When you need to tap out, what do you do?”

“Tap you three times.”

“Good fucking girl. Now, open up for me.”

You braced yourself for impact, knowing that the mood he was in meant you were in for a rough but exciting ride; and of course you were right. He fed you his cock, inch by inch, ignoring your gag reflex and any uncomfortabilities you may have had and forced his way down your throat, groaning at the sensation of your tight, wet heat enveloping him. His hand flew to your head, fingers tangling in your hair as his mouth opened and he exhaled slowly, the subsequent intake sounding like a hiss. The first few thrusts were merciful, gentle, kind, tentative, enough to get you used to feeling his sizable length stuffed down your windpipe. But after that he became demonic.

His thrusts were nearly violent with how sharply he moved. His hand held your head as still as it possibly could be, trapping you where you knelt and using your face like his own personal fucktoy. It was his hand doing most of the guiding, pulling your head back and forth by your hair. He tipped his head back and let his mouth fall wide open. “Oh, fuck!” He growled. Every time you gagged around him, he chuckled at you. He found it amusing to hear you struggling to take him every time he shoved himself down your throat, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t commit those sounds to his memory and used them when you weren’t around.

He pulled your head off of him completely and let you catch your breath, laughing a little at you gasping for air and refilling your lungs as much as you could before his second onslaught. You also took this opportunity to fill your mouth with as much saliva as you could, knowing that Mary preferred a sloppier feel. He loved it when you got filthy, when your own spit would drip down your face and hang off your chin like a cheesy porno. You took this opportunity to use your hands and jerk him off a little, but eventually he grew tired and slapped your hand away. You took him back in your mouth and readied yourself for round two.

This time, he gathered all your hair into a ponytail and used that to pull you back and forth, slamming himself down your throat despite the gags and groans you made. Your nose repeatedly hit his well-groomed pubic mound, kept nice and neat for this very purpose. “That’s it.” He praised through gritted teeth. “Take it all down your fucking throat. Such a slut. Letting yourself get face-fucked in the middle of a fuckin’ cemetery. Fucking hell. Your throat is incredible. I don’t do this enough. Shit!” He bit his lip and groaned when you looked up at him, tears in your eyes from the exertion. The doe-eyed look you often gave him drove him insane, his own corruption kink coming to the forefront and losing himself in the thought of soiling something so pristine as you. Of course, you were just as filthy as he was, but you certainly didn’t look it.

“What’s this?” He asked, his eyes now fixated on your hands. While he’d been fucking your throat, you decided that it was too much to bear and dipped your hands under the hem of your skirt giving yourself the sweet relief you’d been craving since he pinned you against the walls of the crypt. “The little whore likes being face-fucked in a cemetery?” He tugged you off his cock and you stopped playing with yourself. “No, keep going! Don’t let me stop you slutting yourself out in public. You want my mouth, baby girl?”

You nodded.

He jerked your head back again by your hair. “Ah, ah. Tell me.”

“Yes! I want your mouth!”

“Aw,” he cooed, “desperate little slut. On your back for me.”

He guided you to lie on your back, and lifted your skirt, staring at your cunt that was now glistening from the slick of your arousal. You could feel the wet, morning dew from the grass seeping through into your clothes as you lay there, but that just turned you on even more to know he had you lying on the cold ground so he could take what he wanted from you. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. He stared down his nose at you, a somewhat evil grin on his face. He was about to make you suffer and you were so excited for it.

He moved to your head and lowered himself down so he was hovering above your mouth. “Open wide again, baby.” He told you. When you obeyed, he fed himself into your throat once more, but this time he’d leaned forward and took your cunt into his mouth, too, his cock brutally riding your face and taking his own pleasure from you.

Your hips bucked as much as they could from being pinned down by Mary’s entire weight on top of you as his lips quickly encircled your clit and started sucking as hard as they could. The tip of his tongue moved wildly, working different parts of your clit in different directions while he kept his mouth shut around you. His ministrations were intense and rough as he worked to get you to orgasm as quickly as he could, moving his head in all directions and sucking on your tender bud to keep the onslaught going. He was everywhere all at once - you could feel him everywhere. Mind clouded with nothing but him, scent, sight, taste. even his grunts and groans filled your ears more than the wind rustling the trees in the distance.

He continued in this manner constantly, ruthlessly pushing you ever-closer to the edge. Until his unrelenting motions caused your nails to dig into his bare ass as a warning you were about to cum. And so, reluctantly, he pulled himself out of your throat and continued his ministrations until you were cumming, loudly, around his tongue. Your eyes were screwed tightly shut as you came, teeth digging into your bottom lip to curb some of that volume as you screamed out for him. Your nails continued to grip onto his flesh as the entire world went black for just a brief moment, and eventually, when it was fine for him to do so, he released you from his mouth and climbed off you.

He seemed just as out of breath as you were, but he hadn’t cum yet, and therefore he certainly wasn’t finished with you. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, “ass in the air.”

Your back was hit with a wall of cold air as the damp cloth was exposed to the autumnal morning breeze. You spread yourself out for him, elbows to the ground and ass in the air, ready to receive whatever he would give you next.

He didn’t wait for your cunt to get used to his size; instead, he grabbed your hips and thrust all the way to the end. “Take that fucking cock.”

He started working right away, snapping his hips against yours quickly and hitting your cervix which made you scream every time. “Fuck, Mary!” You yelled.

Mary always felt wonderful inside of you because he was long and slender, stretching you out beautifully. By the time he was finished with you, you were typically a shaking, aching mess on the bed, unable to even think or breathe.

Your ass jiggled more than usual as you arched your back for him once more and moved your hips to meet his thrusts. He let out a string of profanities, each one reminding you of how much of a whore you were to him and how tight your pussy felt around him, how you got tighter every time a branch snapped in the distance or a solitary car drove by. How you got off knowing that someone could catch you getting fucked by your partner in one of the most wildly inappropriate places to ever exist.

He reached forward and grabbed your hair, pulling it once more by the roots to gain leverage and allow himself to bury deep inside of you over and over again.

Your hand reached down to play with your clit once more, fervently rubbing yourself in time with his rough thrusts to try and tip you over the edge.

“Fucking shit, always so tight for me.” He saw your pussy cream accumulating at the base of his cock and let out another growl. You felt so fucking good, and you were getting tighter and tighter by the second. “Baby,” he said, “I know we couldn’t get in there for me to piss on his coffin, but there’s another monument I could.”

You raised your eyebrows, and he didn’t miss the way your hand sped up at the thought. “O-on me?” You asked.

“Can I?”

“Fuck. Mary, do it.”

“Yeah? Move that fucking hand so I can piss on that filthy cunt of yours.”

You did as you were told and shuddered at the feeling of Mary pulling out of you, your hole twitching at the sudden emptiness and screaming for stimulation. You couldn’t see what Mary was doing behind you, but oh fuck did you feel it. It was a slow trickle at first but when the stream built up, and was angled right, it hit your clit perfectly just like the head of your shower did. The constant stream, however short it actually lasted, felt like it went on forever as it continuously hit that perfect spot, making your eyes roll back into your head. It took just a little more time and suddenly you were diving headfirst into another orgasm, the sensitivity of your first and the violent pounding of Mary’s cock beforehand leading you into a powerful second one. Mary’s fingers replaced his piss to finish you off, rubbing roughly to keep you frozen and cumming as hard as possible.

He could barely wait until you’d stopped convulsing, and shoved himself back inside you as soon as he could. “Filthy slut,” he chastised, hands gripping onto your hips as he pushed you flush to the ground and took what he wanted. His left hand was still wet from his piss and your cum, and you could feel it on your skin. “Can’t believe you just came from me pissing on you. What a depraved, cock-hungry little whore - so desperate to cum she’ll let me do anything to her.” Your hands dug into the hallowed soil, gripping tightly to ground you as he got rougher and rougher, slamming against your cervix each time and forcing you to cry out. “I’ll piss in your mouth next time. You want that, hm?”

“Yes! Fucking hell! Mary!” You didn’t care how loud you were, and neither did he.

“Or maybe I’ll piss inside your cunt next time, and punish you if any slips out - oh fuck - c-cumming!”

He let out a deep and gutteral groan as he came inside you, hips stilling to a halt and emptying his balls as deep as he possibly could. All his weight was on you, trapping you between him and the graveyard’s soil. Your own pubic mound resting in the puddle of piss that had formed underneath you both the more he pushed you down and held you still. He thrust tentatively, making sure you took every last drop of him. He let himself fall forward, and kissed your shoulder tenderly as if he hadn’t just beat up your pussy and abused you like a madman.

“Fucking hell that was the hottest thing we’ve ever done.” You said as you both were catching your breaths.

He grunted in agreement, still kissing your clothed shoulder and moving up to nibble and lick at your ear. “We’d better get you in the shower, eh?”

“Check my bag, there should be some tissues in there.”

He pulled out of you, both of you wincing at the loss again, and when he returned, he made sure to gently clean you as best as he could. But he’d make sure he’d clean you up properly when you both took a shower at home.

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