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His cock is fat and wet standing atop two hairy lips that part to show where he’s leaking. And yes, the curtains do match the drapes.
“I’ve been waiting for this day my entire afterlife.”
He says that everytime they do this, but it still thrills her to hear it. Beetlejuice pulls her to him, clawed nails scratching against a hip while the other tangles in her hair. The perks of being with a goth chick is that even when he messes up her hair it still looks intentional. Lydia responds in kind, a gentle hand cupping her dead man’s cheek as they sigh into each other’s mouths, chasing chapped lips and sweet, stale breath.
“I love you.” It’s a quiet whisper, Lydia flushing with the admission. It perks him right up. His girl doesn’t say the L word often, to anyone, let alone him, which is how he knows she means it.
The mattress is disgusting. Full of stains and without sheets, but she’s gone too long without his touch to care. Next time she’ll insist on something more sanitary. For now it’s fine.
He doesn’t waste time with the traditional method of removing clothes, snapping his fingers instead to make them disappear. Both of their nipples stiffen from the sudden chill.
“No teasing.”
She wants a quickie instead of the marathons these rendezvous can turn into. Lydia pulls him onto the bed with her rolling them so Beetlejuice is grinning dirtily under her.
“I’m all yours babe.”
She slides down to drape his thighs over her shoulders and gets to work sucking his cock into her mouth, holding his hips down so he doesn’t go wild when he bucks. Instantly he makes a ruckus, shouting from pleasure and twisting his hands in her hair.
Lydia rocks absentmindedly against the bed as she sucks Beetlejuice off, clit hard to the point of aching, and excited by the prospect of her jaw matching. She likes having her mouth filled by him. It lets her sink into a warmer headspace where all that exists is their pleasure and into something that’s a little more easy than navigating life. Of course, he’s greedy so he doesn’t mind taking her there.
“Yeowch!”
He yelps like a cartoon character, floating off the bed by a foot when she stuffs him full of two fingers. She rolls her eyes as he lowers down again. As soon as his back touches solidity she retaliates by worming three fingers inside of his pussy instead of two. They’re both aware he likes the dull pain it brings.
“Warn a guy before you go sticking things in.”
“Is there a way to turn you off?”
She bites at his hip pleased with the deep purple and black spotted bruise it leaves behind. It’ll fade in minutes, but for now it’s there. For now, it’s a physical reminder of ownership besides the ring on her finger.
“Not when it comes to you.”
He’s a creamer and a squirter. The first orgasm is always thick and saccharine, the later ones wet and messy. They cover the walls, the bed, and anything in the splash zone.
His inner walls contract, milking her as slick squelches out and drips from her knuckles. Milky froth bubbles pop quietly when she quickens her thrusting, dipping down to lap up his cream. It’s a mostly odorless, flavorless thing, just a hint of earth leaving behind a faint aftertaste.
“Come here.”
“The pillow prince is ready to get off his throne?”
She rolls onto her back flexing her jaw to ease the subtle ache and cracks the joints in her wrist noting absently that her fingers are wrinkled. Beetlejuice snorts, but otherwise ignores the jab in favor of burying his nose in the curls that frame her clit, sniffing obnoxiously loud before groaning just as noisily.
“What do I smell like?”
She busies herself with sucking the taste of him from her hand while she waits for him to answer and tangles clean fingers in greasy hair, nails scratching at her man’s scalp.
“Like a breather. Warm. Alive. Notes of pine, cinnamon, and citrus. I’d love to go into more detail later honey, but right now all I want to do is uphold my pristine sexual reputation.”
Conversation clearly over, his tongue grows snake-like, long and thin, wrapping around the base of her, forked tip flicking over her balls as his mouth finally sinks down onto her.
Lydia bucks up instinctively, stomach heaving as she partially sits up, hands flying to push him down farther on her length.
“Ah, ah!”
Her moans echo off the walls creating a sinful symphony as they combine with the slurping and gagging of her partner. Impossibly, his tongue massages the flesh he can’t take in his throat, going even lower to poke and prod at her cunt. He teases over the rim, lathering spit there until there’s enough slick to push inside, exploring the texture of her walls and seeing how deep he can go before he reaches the end of her. Wet, sloppy squelching gets even louder as he times the movement of his sucking to the thrusting of his tongue so Lydia never gets the chance to catch her breath.
Finally Beetlejuice’s tongue gives her reprieve, but only long enough for her panting to quiet. Then his fingers are inside her stretching her more than his greedy tongue. One finger first then another as soon as he confirms she can take it.
One of her early rules had been no spit as lube, so his fingers nestle in deeper aided by a thick unidentified goop he’s summoned from God knows where. He grinds around her insides until he finds her sweet spot. Of course he immediately abuses the discovery.
Her dick weeps for him, dribbling down to his hand where he jerks her roughly. It’s good enough that she could cum like this, but she doesn’t want to.
“Enough.”
She swats at his hand until he pulls back, face going serious.
“You okay babe?”
His fingers pause, every part of him that’s connected to her freezing in place.
She likes that, holding sway over him despite him being stronger, despite them being on two different planes of power.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” She reassures him, manhandling him onto his side and gluing herself to his back. He’s so warm. And all hers. She can’t help running a palm down the line of his body until she can press harshly against his clit, grinding hard enough to hurt.
Lydia kisses behind his ear, rubbing against him while her fingers abuse his dick. He’s drenched, sloppy already as she builds him up for another orgasm. This time fluid gushes out of him and the strength of it pushes against her fingers as if a fire hose went off. The bed soaks up his squirt adding yet another stain to the bare mattress.
The warmth in her core reaches its peak, cresting as she groans and cums against Beetlejuice’s ass. Lydia keeps going, hips stuttering against him until she’s shivering from too much sensation and she’s forced to pull their bodies apart.
“Good?” He reaches back to scoop up the cum on his backside bringing it around to devour.
As with everything he does Beetlejuice is theatrical with it, moaning and grunting repulsively loud, sucking his fingers clean with gusto.
“The Juice is loose.”
He cracks up at his own joke while Lydia pulls a face, but otherwise lets it slide.
“Clean us up.”
He conjures up a washcloth at her request, swiping over her skin gently even as he leers.
“Round two?”
“Give me a minute to breathe. Insatiable beast.” Despite the put upon grumble Lydia pulls him down to join her. She presses his ear against her chest so he can be lulled by her heartbeat, steady proof that she’s alive.
Thump. Thump. Thump.