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Your lungs filled up with the smell of rust and burnt cables. You had been running for what seemed like hours–never in a million years would you have guessed that a night spent in the PizzaPlex would be as dangerous as this. Wasn’t it made for children? Well, that might’ve just been a selling point for the parents… there was something that drew you, a childless adult, to the function. It had been for shits and giggles–a joke amongst friends, really–that you entertained the idea of going. It hadn’t occurred to you that your interest would be spiked by one of the performers.
Maybe it was the juvenile affection you had for anybody with confidence, but something about Montgomery Gator really caught your eye. Beit his skillful playing or the winks he sprinkled into the crowd, you were almost completely enraptured by Monty. It wasn’t until later in the evening, nearing closing time, where you made a truly stupid decision. You let your friends go ahead, saying you’d be in the bathroom, but, instead, hid behind the curtain of an idle animatronic in a restricted area. It should’ve been a red flag from the start that only trained professionals were allowed behind the doors, but the adrenaline overwhelmed all sense. A couple security scares and a few dozen robots calling you out by name later had led you to the door of the security room in the underground of the complex.
You scrambled inside to find some sort of coverage behind the various metal structures hidden in the eerie darkness of the room. Panting, you flung yourself under a dusty table closest to the door, perfectly dissolved in the shadow of a stack of boxes.
What the fuck? Really, what the fuck? Those incessant security drones, weaving through aisles with a precision akin to a human’s, filling every single corridor with their blank, fucking beeping. A shriek so ear-piercingly loud, it filled your mind with the terror of being caught, goosebumps prickling your forearms as you had turned to run. It was a certain dread; you could feel something else had been alerted–had no idea what it was, clearly–but it was encroaching upon you, and fast. Escaping was the only option, you couldn’t afford to meet that thing face-to-face and receive whatever potential danger it brought with it. Plus, you were still technically breaking and entering, so arrest wasn’t off the table.
Closing your eyes, you indulged in a relieved sigh, resting your head on your knees as you folded up your legs to your chest. Finally, maybe some peace and quiet? You weren’t sure if hiding here was an option for the whole night, but surely at least a few hours? That was the plan at least, until the door swung open, hitting the wall with a heavy thud as your heart dropped to your stomach.
Heavy, metallic claws screeched slightly against the tile. A deep rumble that reverberated around the room…
You stilled, fear creeping in on your heart, clutching yourself ever tighter as you tried fruitlessly to press yourself into the wall, to melt into the wood wholly, and avoid whatever, whoever was in the room with you. A large, long mass swung around the floor, knocking over stray boxes and things as the weighty footsteps climbed closer to you.
Body engulfed with terror, you shut your eyes, trying to block it all out. Your breaths became shallow and silent, sending your head spinning. You prayed to any god out there that whatever was in the room couldn’t hear the thunderous pounding of your heart. Hell, it felt like it was beating out of your chest.
A low, powerful growl echoed through the enclosed space. It sent a chill up your legs and spine.
“Mmm… naughty, naughty…” It barely registered that there was an actual voice. Fuck–it sounded familiar. Where… where…? “Trespassing, are we?”
Thank fuck the whimper collected in your throat hadn’t escaped. In a mindless force of habit, your fingers moved to clutch the hem of your skirt.
“Ah! There you are.”
In the blink of an eye, a large claw grabbed your ankle and dragged you from your temporary haven. If you weren’t absolutely petrified, maybe you would’ve screamed, but the only noise that came out was that of a small, shaky breath. The back of your thighs pressed against the cold tiles as you pushed your body into the floor, facing none other than–
“Montgomery Gator. What’s your name, sweetheart? Not that I don’t already know it. In fact, everyone in this complex knows it. You’re a star around these parts, y’know.”
You stutter. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to form a cohesive sentence, so you let your words falter.
“Speechless, huh? Won’t you help me put a voice to the face, darling?” He grins, baring shiny fangs. God, they’re huge. They’re also inches from your cheek.
A collection of metal clanking and robotic creaking sends your gaze from the iron scales of the gator to the security room’s door. Monty reads your wide eyes and pieces it together.
“You know she’s coming for you, don’t you?” He whispers, a small rasp leaving his voice box, “What’re you gonna do, honey?”
Chica’s crumpled, limping form is lingering in the hallway right beyond those doors. Her screeching gasps, claws scraping against the walls, that same sing-song tone almost menacing now that it was mere feet from your defenseless self. Your eyes racked all over his form, his permanent smirk–he knows how terrified you are–and you’re not sure if he’s an entirely different threat or not. But Monty’s hulking form blocks most of the light streaming in from the slightly ajar door, and his enormous arm components trap you beneath the desk, enough to completely shield you from the chicken squawking around behind you both. Monty is…dangerous, to say the least, but right now all you can do is cling to his neck, and whisper a plea.
“Help me…” It comes out as more of a cornered sob as you bury your face in the junction of his neck and chest cavity. He stiffens, your heightened breathing and the creaking of his arms as he shifts to grip your thighs being all that can be heard in the room. After a beat of silence, where you fear the worst, overthinking every possible outcome to this situation, he speaks.
“Sure thing…” He murmurs, strangely soothing in the quiet rumble of his voice, fabricated or not. It’s close enough to your ear for you to shudder involuntarily and gulp, his monstrous teeth grazing your neck as he lifts his head. “But I need you to let go of me first, okay?” You shiver at the tenderness of his voice, the familiar playful, teasing fizzing away as he pets your inner thigh with a clawed thumb.
You nod. A little too desperately, perhaps. Letting you down softly, your shoulder blades once again meet the tile. His glassy eyes run up and down your body as you watch the towering machine, powerless and laying under him.
“You’d fit.” He says. Your breath hitches. What does that mean? “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You have to listen closely, alright, darling?”
You wait for instructions. True to character, he relishes in your form–vulnerable.
“I have an empty cavity in my torso. You’ve probably seen it on Freddy—the whole oversized birthday cake surprise thing. What you’re going to do is climb in and be silent. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but you’ll be fine. It’s only for now. If you make a noise, I’ll tear you apart myself. Understand?”
You gulp, nodding, skin prickling at the intensity of his off-handed threat.
He shakes his head, “I’m gonna need a verbal response. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” You croak.
“Very good. Now get in.”
His mechanical chestplate opens up to reveal a rather small opening amongst various wires and gears powering the animatronic. You do as he says, not risking a moment more of visibility–Chica’s probably listening to your discourse at the door of the room by now. One hand grips his arm while the other grabs onto his shoulder as you get in, feet first. You were so, so grateful that you had chosen such an easily maneuverable outfit for the outing; it was so much easier to nestle into the space in a skirt than jeans. As your mind wandered concerning clothing, you were jolted back to reality as a cold hand on your hip guided you in. A shiver ran up your back, sending goosebumps down your body in its wake.
Finally, once all your limbs were within the compartment, Monty stretched, getting used to the new weight.
“Comfortable, sweetheart?” He asks, the deep voice resonating in the titanium walls around you.
“Yes.” You respond, barely above a whisper. Without another word, the latches close up and lock in front of you with the rather comforting sound of whirring mechanics inside of him. You adjust to your surroundings, slightly cramped with your knees and hair grazing the ceiling of his stomach hatch, but relieved at the opportunity of being hidden away. You feel him rise, lifting yourself off of the ground, impossibly long mechanical legs extending underneath you. Just how tall was he anyway? Your heart pulsed with adrenaline, squeezing your stomach and thighs as he shifted around the room. You wanted to find out–when Chica was no longer a threat–if Monty really was as big as he seemed.
“It’s actually pretty nice in here.” You quipped, glancing around at the precariously connected wires and exposed circuits, reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the walls.
He chuckled, tapping on the compartment’s hatch, “Glad to hear it. I’m not known for being the most hospitable, you know.”
His voice was a deep baritone that reverberated around you, engulfing your senses. You smiled and clutched your knees once again as he sauntered to the doorframe and exited the dark security room. Even inside Monty, you heard Chica’s almost pained squawks clearly, and subconsciously held your breath as he approached her.
“Chica, baby, I get that you're hungry and all but I can hear your damn wailing from the other side of the complex. Everythin’s perfectly in order here, so–” His calm temperament changed instantly–you had tapped a small, slightly lifted metal piece below his stomach hatch in your silent exploration of his body–-unbeknownst to you, the switch held a kind of large, phallic thing; purple, and…pulsing? What?
The realization didn’t strike you until you leaned in to further examine it–it was a fucking dick.
A familiar churning began in your stomach as you watched, rather dumbfounded. You had no clue machines like these–made for performing and taking pictures with families–were equipped with something so… human. You concluded it had to be some type of joke the mechanics thought would be humorous to add. It couldn’t be real… right?
Curiosity overtook you as wandering fingers moved closer to softly brush at the metal casing. If you could get closer… a little bit closer…
“Monty… have you seen the human?” Chica inquires, voice broken and scratching.
Fingertips settle on the slippery surface of it, lightly squeezing it.
A deep groan sounds around you. You gasp softly – so it is real. And he can feel it.
His tone hardens, “No, Chica, I have not. You best go find it because, frankly, I cannot give less of a fuck about this human. It probably can’t keep its hands off things it shouldn’t touch. Check somewhere else.”
Your breathing gets heavier as you can physically see the gears turning inside of Monty. You tighten your grip on him, beginning to move up and down. You hear his arm move beside you, the sound of metal clasping metal and peering through a tiny crack in his suit, see his claws gripping a railing attached to the wall. Amused, you move faster and watch as his hand engulfs the pole. A loud crunch scares you–he crushed the fucking rail.
“Human… human!” Chica croaks, “I smell it!”
“Ain’t nothing here that smells but you, sugar. You’ve been diggin’ in them garbage piles again, haven’t you? Run along, now. I think you might’ve traced the wrong scent. In fact, I might’ve sensed the human somewhere down in the daycare.”
“HUMAN?” Chica shrieks, “I’ll find it… I’ll find…”
“Go on then.”
You quickly let go of him as the sound of Chica’s descent marks the start of something else. The residue of his oddly lifelike pre-cum is left on your hand as you pull away–a thick, cold substance. You rub the liquid between your fingers–slimy–and ponder the vitality of this stuff before being unceremoniously yanked out of Monty’s chest cavity.
You almost fall straight to the floor, adrenaline flooding your heart once again as you struggle to grasp onto anything that could support your weight–and end up clinging to his shoulders once again. Monty growls, frustrated, and grips your waist with precise strength (enough to pull you out easily, but not enough to hurt you). Yelping, you land on the floor with a soft thud, and glance up at the clear irritation on Monty’s face, his red irises boring into yours with a kind of evil look that makes you swallow and press your thighs together.
“Just what in the FUCK did you think you were doin’? You know exactly what that is, and you’re still trying to play games with me, princess?” He stalked towards you, each heavy step pounding in your head as you stared up at him, both afraid and exhilarated–his anger was apparent in the dense air, but he wouldn’t actually hurt you, right?
Bold, you shrugged, “It’s not like you didn’t like it, gator boy”, a purr in your voice that had him clenching his jaw.
“Oh, you like testing your boundaries, don’t ya?” He growls, “You think you’re so tough?”
Riding on the high of finding his weakness, you continue teasing, “What? Like you’re all that. Freddy’s eons scarier than you.”
Monty peers over his starred spectacles, “Is that so? Princess, I’ll show you scary.”
Large claws wrangle your hips and press your back against his chest. It’s achingly cool against your skin. It really doesn’t help that your body is on fucking fire–every inch of it is crazy sensitive.
“You know why I’m so cold, darling? Because I sense heat.” One arm pins you to his body, a blade-like claw teetering under your chin, entirely too close to your throat to be safe, while the other wanders ever so slowly down to your thigh. You swallow. Maybe you had gotten yourself into something you weren’t prepared for. “And it’s so much warmer down here. Ya got an explanation? Or should I find out for myself?”
“Go ahead. I’m not a fucking prude, like you.”
At that remark, his plastered eyebrows raised and he laughed, a deep, low rumble in the back of his throat and gripping your thighs, claws pricking at your skin through the pantyhose, lifted you with ease. The sudden shift in gravity made you stumble and cling to his neck–and he fucking grinned, hands coming up to curl around your waist and the bend of your knees. He glided back into the dimly lit room, sweeping aside all the random clutter on the table with a single swing of his arm before setting you down atop it slowly.
“Let’s just see how tenacious you are after this, huh?” His voice drops as he leans in to whisper in your flushed ear, licking a long stripe up the side of your neck with his strangely soft tongue. You involuntarily let a wanton whimper escape as he sets your center ablaze.
“It’s getting warmer, isn’t it? Do you like that?” He chuckles, running a claw up the side of your thigh, slicing through it simultaneously. He licks the bare skin with only a trace of wet, saliva-like substance leaving the memory of his touch. The tender movements make your whole body tingle until you can’t bear to lay still. Your squirming, though, doesn’t go unnoticed.
Monty hums, “Mmm… still high and mighty, sweetheart?”
“‘S that all y’got, gator?” You slur.
“All you do is talk,” He growls, “Does your fucking mouth do anything else?”
The sudden change in tone shakes you to your core, but you fight the feeling as you put up a brave face once again.
“Depends on what you can do for me first…” You trail off into a low murmur, brazen hands reaching up to stroke his cold cheek–to feel the permanent crease in the plastic where he smirks, the length of his jaw, and the serrated teeth lining his mouth. He had a particularly long tongue, perhaps accurate to the creatures he was modeled after but you never stopped to consider its potential…
“I can do a lot more than you think, sweetheart…”
Rubbing his thumbs into your inner thighs again, he slowly lowered himself to lean on the floor, metal creaking as he stressed his joints to bend beyond their limits and smiled at you from the edge of the table. You breathed out heavily in anticipation, eyes half-lidded as he took your knees in his impossibly huge palms and yanked, sliding you towards him and his awaiting mouth. Your legs wrapped themselves over his shoulder plates comfortably as you shivered under his gaze. He spread your legs with a careful force, nudging his face underneath your skirt and you subconsciously clenched, arousal building as you weighed the gravity of this situation.
You had fucking Monty about to eat you out at this moment, in an unused room at the PizzaPlex after hours. Here he was, centimeters from your drenched panties with those teeth–it couldn’t possibly be safe, it was sure to hurt–but you were excited at the prospect of pain. Even angry, he couldn’t bring himself to genuinely endanger you, so feeling his teeth poke at your lower belly as he bit into the waistband of your underwear and dragged only incited you to shift your legs further apart.
Hidden under the fabric, you had no real grasp of what he was doing–your nerves were on edge, heartbeat thrumming in your head. Humming slightly, he tears through your pantyhose with a sharp claw, nail scraping against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Shuddering, you felt a sudden, small, experimental lick and instinctively tensed your thighs, the sensation so foreign as you couldn’t even feel a breath on you. He laughed, the vibrations of his voice forcing you to squirm–he stopped that instantly, a large hand once again holding your legs down.
“Stay still.” And you fell limp at the prick of his claws at your skin, his tongue once again darting out to feel at your clit, pure heat pooling at your gut. You felt like he was fucking around with you–would an animatronic really know the nuances of sex and pleasure? He sure did talk up a storm…
If Monty noticed your lack of focus, he didn’t say anything about it before rising and pulling you up with him, dipping his tongue into you. His slower, languid licks turned into fervent strokes at your core, a wet squelch echoing around the room as he fucked you on his tongue. Instantly, you choked back a moan, a string of curses leaving your lips as you felt how deep he rubbed you–and you could feel the bastard’s smirk, your moans growing slightly in pitch as he gripped you tighter and nuzzled his face closer to your pussy.
Pleas fell from your lips, hands leaving their position at your side to find purchase in something–it ended up being his hair–and you yanked on the slightly bristly strands, muffling him between your legs. He curled his tongue and with the combination of a thumb at your clit, you gasped, mind fluttering as the heat grew and spread to your very fingertips with its intensity. He felt kind of cool inside you, clearly non-human but with the same ministrations and flexibility as a real one’s, twisting and flattening against you as you squeezed his head between your thighs. That familiar pulse of your orgasm held your gut in a tight grasp, the pressure of the sweet sweet pleasure he brought you enclosed in your mind–you couldn’t suppress the sounds anymore.
You called out his name, voice dripping with desire as you squeezed–euphoria was just around the corner, his own grip tightening on you as you flooded his tongue with slick–and then he emerged from beneath your skirt, all wet plastic and that irritating smirk. You panted above him, confused, heat pounding in your core left neglected and to dissipate as he stood before you once again.
“Nuh uh-uh,” He chuckled, “Not letting you overheat on my watch.”
You whine, “Please…”
“Hmm? Please what?” He prods, “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Please let me finish… please…” You lift your head to meet his waiting eyes. God, he’s so fucking cocky. He knows how desperate you were and he’s just relishing in it.
“Well, how ‘bout a little something for my helping hands earlier? Shouldn’t I get a piece of the pie for all my hard work?” He flashes big, shiny fangs as he leans in, the razor-like edges barely skimming your neck, “Whatcha think, sugar? Won’t you return the favor?”
You nod eagerly. He hums in return, “Good. Get down.”
Unbothered by your panties pooled at your ankles, you immediately obey and get on your knees. It’s kind of pathetic how much of a mess you are within minutes of being under Monty. You can’t help it, though. He really is a superstar.
“You look so pretty down there, princess.” He says lowly, the vibrations and praise lighting your skin up simultaneously, “You ready for me?”
You nod, sat up on your haunches, peering up at him through fluttering eyelashes.
He makes sure not to break eye contact as he unlatches the spiked black belt on his waist, unlocking a compartment just below the spikes. He reaches in carefully and leans his head back just slightly, letting out a small noise. Monty finally unravels his dick in its full length. Fuck, it’s big.
“Open up, princess.” He commands, holding it up to your face. Your jaw slowly lowers, tongue falling out, awaiting his arrival. The tip of it, pulsing and a darker shade of violet than the majority, momentarily rests at the entrance before quickly moving in. You’re taken aback, but you take it all with the aid of Monty’s hands and your own.
Once he’s completely overtaken your senses, he growls, “Fuck, you feel good.”
The tasteless substance covering his dick coats your mouth as he begins to move inside. His grip on the base of his cock loosens as his pleasure becomes too powerful. You move to grab it instead, pushing him further into you.
His groans motivate you and, soon, you’re bobbing your head, grabbing onto his big, cold thighs for support. So focused on the work you’re doing and truly lost in the sound of shaking grunts filling the room, you don’t even notice Monty’s large hand gliding down to reach the top of your head. You feel his eyes meet your face and you look up to match his gaze.
His cock begins to twitch inside your mouth and you realize he’s close. A part of you wants to feel whatever replacement he has for cum to fill you up and trickle down your throat, but you can’t let him have that satisfaction. Not yet, at least. You pop off of him, eyes trained to the saliva string connecting your wet lips to his violet tip before glancing up at him.
His two dark eyebrows are knitted together, arm components tensed at his side and you can almost see the frustration thick in the air. You smirk–it’s what he gets after all, if he didn’t want to play fair then neither would you. He creaks slightly as he reaches up to take off his sunglasses, folding them in his hand as he smiles at you, a lurking anger in his crimson eyes that has you trembling in anticipation.
“Y’know sweetheart, you’ve really got a unique sense of humor. I s’pose impatience gets ya nowhere, huh?” You open your mouth to speak before he grabs your waist and flips you, pressing you down into the table. The edge digs into your hips a bit as you scrabble to rest one knee on the cool surface to try and balance yourself.
He whispers in your ear, “Well, I’m tired of waiting.” He presses up against your back, rubber cock resting on the curve of your ass and rests a claw on your throat, pulling you up to be flush with his front. You feel a whimper settle at your throat as his claw drifts down to graze over one of your nipples, head twisting back to settle on his cold chest. You’re not sure if kissing the gator is even a viable option, so you reach back and cup a hand under his muzzle to pull his head forward slightly, pressing your lips to the side of the mouth. You pull back with a slight giggle, mirth dancing in your eyes as he watches your face, smiling, before taking your back and pushing you down, hard, into the table.
“Monty!” Your surprise is evident as he presses into the curve of your arch with a heavy hand and chuckles darkly to himself. You turn to gauge his expression, but the lighting is only enough to cascade down his towering form in a silhouette, hulking shoulders and all. You shiver, squirming slightly as you brace yourself on your forearms, heat creeping on your mind like a haze and he hasn’t even started.
“If ya wanna play coy so bad, go right ahead.” He lifts your skirt, frustrated by the flimsiness of the material before ripping it right off of you along with the pantyhose, and holding a bare asscheek in one palm. “‘M not gonna say I haven’t warned ya.” He lines up with you, collecting your slick on his tip and rubbing up against you slowly, your own hips pushing back to meet him.
“Y’know, ya like to run your mouth but you’re so fucking wet I can slip right in…” He groans, the sound low and guttural, enough to make you whimper as you shamelessly push your hips back up to him.
Digging pointy claws into your soft flesh, Monty tilts your ass further up to line up exactly with him. Your noiseless begging becomes too desperate to keep inside. You begin to unravel, incomprehensible babbling falling from your open mouth.
“Aww, sweetheart. What’s the matter? What d’ya need?” He leans into your body, prick barely kissing your entrance, as he teases you, “You can tell me… go ahead, darlin’. Use that pretty voice.”
“Fuck…” You manage to get out, but it isn’t enough.
You feel the head of his cock teetering on an entrance. It’s too much to handle, “Louder, princess. What do you want?” He growls.
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, already.” You bark. He pushes himself in hard, forcing a strangled yell out of you. Even in his very first stroke, he goes so fucking deep, you feel like it grazes your ribs. Goddamn, it feels better than you could’ve ever imagined.
“Louder, baby. No one can hear us down here.” He pulls out almost completely–the head of his dick is still lingering inside.
“Fuck me! Please, Monty–” He thrusts into you unannounced before you can finish. This time, he doesn’t wait for your pleas anymore. Monty moves in and out with no pauses, sending your head spinning. The feeling of him completely engulfing you–his cold shell, the grunts he lets out beside your ear, his strong hand holding you up by a sure-to-be bruised thigh, his cock moving aggressively inside you–it’s overwhelming bliss.
Your breathing becomes mumbling for more. No matter how hard he goes, you think, you’re gonna want him to treat you even rougher. And just as if he read your mind, he takes a handful of your hair in his claws and pulls with no mercy. The unexpected motion sends a chill down to your pussy, clenching up around him. He notices and tightens his fist’s grip to send you both into a cycle of pleasure that doesn’t seem to have an end.
“Doin’ wonderfully, princess. You’re being so good for me. You’re a good little slut just for me, aren’t you, baby?” Monty growls into your ear. The combination of appraisal and degradation is too much; nods and whines become substitutions for words that are caught in your throat.
He gradually speeds up, continuing on his string of bittersweet comments, as a pool of heat builds up in your gut, “What an obedient whore. You’ll do just as I say, won’t you? Cum for me, baby. Go ahead. Cum.” You can hear the rip of fabric as he tears through your pantyhose completely, your lower body completely bare to the cold air of the room, skin tingling with heat.
Monty had you figured out. You would do anything he told you to. And just as he commanded, you came following a gasping moan. It hit like a pile of bricks – it was the most powerful you’d ever felt. The feeling swarmed your body with pinpricks on your skin and a head swimming in euphoria.
Riding out the orgasm, you let out small whimpers and yelps, but Monty’s pace kept up. He didn’t fucking slow down or hiccup at all–he just kept going.
“Be a good fucktoy, darlin’. ‘M almost finished.” He said, speech crackling. God, his voice alone ignited the flame again. Between the overstimulation and the surrounding sensations, you immediately felt that familiar heat crank up again, fingers spasming as you panted, trying to recover your heartbeat.
His grip tightened on your hips, the other hand clutching the table, nails piercing the wood like flesh, the table cracking under the force of his arm. You shuddered, one of your own hands hesitantly reaching out to lay over his, squeezing.
Monty wasn’t known for his consideration towards others–but it was that indifference that made you swoon upon first meeting him, and even now, he refused to be affectionate with you. At least, that’s what you figured, before he leaned down, cool metal pressed up against your back, and whispered, “Hang on tight to me, ‘kay?”
He flipped you, your senses disoriented as your arms flung out to cling to his neck, his chin nestled in your shoulder. Bulky arms clutched your ass effortlessly as he straightened, a ragged groan escaping his mouth as you slid further, deeper on his cock. Your thighs tensed around his wide waist, feet scrambling to interlock your ankles behind him to support your weight, but he was having no problems. He started up a brutal pace again, cock rubbing that thrumming, spongy spot in you–sparks flying behind your eyes as your fingernails scraped his shoulder blade with a squeak. Moans fell from your lips, increasing in intensity and frequency and he huffed, eyes glued to you, watching, memorizing the crease of your eyebrows, the blood dripping from your bitten lip, the pink blush that dusted every part of you that he touched.
You trembled on him as he backed up to a row of cabinets, leaning on it for support as he pistoned up into you, metal casing shining with your sweat. Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard the heavy thump of his tail banging against the wood, his agitation even clearer as he fucked you roughly. You just came, but you could feel that particular sensation twist in your gut once again, pleasure engulfing your mind as you sobbed, helpless to resist Monty’s relentless rhythm.
“Fuck…” he murmured, pulling you down onto his cock, thrusts frantic and barraging your pussy, his hand at your back rubbing comforting circles into your skin. His hips stuttered, burying himself deep inside you before coming, clenching his jaw as he filled you up. The warmth and throbbing of his cock was enough to push you over the edge as well, toes curling as you craned your neck back and came, clenching down on him. That same syrupy liquid dripped down his shaft, wetting his thighs slightly as you panted.
Monty’s claws slowly loosened their grip on your flesh as he slid down to the floor, hard metal bumps sounding as his back rubbed against the racks. He’d finally settled and turned to examine your weary expression, “How ya feelin’, sweetheart? All good?”
His surprising tenderness made your face twitch into a small smile, “Yeah. Good.”
He let go of you completely as your thighs rested atop his. His hands instead went to your hips, “I’m glad. You ready, darlin’?”
“Mhm,” You mumbled. Softly, he lifted you up and off his cock. You tentatively sat back down on his legs as he put it away. You sat, thinking and relishing for a bit. Your fingers absentmindedly traced the pattern printed on his cold thighs.
The sound of his chuckle scared you, “You’re not too good at keeping your hands to yourself, huh? Lucky you. If ya weren’t such a pretty lil’ thing, I wouldn’t have been so patient.”
You laugh a little, “That was you being patient?”
“I guess you’re right. I’ll actually be patient next time.”
Your head perked up, “Next time?”
He unfolded his previously put-away signature glasses, “Dunno why you’re so surprised, princess. This was the most fun I’ve had in a hot minute. Look forward to seeing you again.”