Chapter Text
People know Sansa Stark as the perfect young lady. She is the type of girl a man dreams about taking home to his mother and then straight into their bed. Her legs are longer than snow covered mountains, with vibrant red hair and jewels for eyes, a dainty figure with the right amount of curves to draw anyone's attention. Her voice is sweet and melodious, and she drew people towards her like an enchantress on a deserted island. She is obedient and well mannered, perfection in every single form.
The people who think this, however, will never get to see Sansa Stark as she is now: scantily clad in her favorite nightie, a transparent blue dress that reveals her tantalizing breasts and soaking cunt. The fabric ran down to the middle of her thighs, and despite its length, did nothing to hide the wetness dripping down her legs.
She casually brushes her hair off her shoulders, raising the dress up enough to give a little peek. She had no intention of hiding it in the first place.
Sandor Clegane stares from his doorway, entrance by the fantasy in front of him. He is stunned speechless and his lack of words only serves to amuse Sansa. The sound of footsteps awaken Sandor to reality, and he promptly slams his door shut.
He stalks towards her and takes a hold of her lips. “Is it my birthday?”
Sansa giggles and she jumps on him, her legs wrapping around his waist while their lips meet. He ravishes her body with his rough hands and forces her against the wall to give her more, thorough attention. “I take it your last day went well,” he suggests when they part.
Happy that he remembered, she begins to plaster kisses along his neck as she explains. “Couldn't wait to see you.” She tries to tighten her legs around him and rubs. His crotch dampens from the contact.
It is a challenge, but he manages to locate his bedroom door. “Your parents must be very proud.” He wouldn't know, he never went on to college. He also doesn't give a flying fuck, but it also turns the bird on when he talks about her mum and dad when he's inside her. He might make her call him daddy later. She kisses him, and soon the only thing he could think about right now is how great her ass from behind.
“Proud enough to let me stay the night at a friend's house,” She whispers in his ear, causing his cock to harden even more than he thinks is possible.
They finally reach the bed and he drops her onto the sheets. Sansa excitingly pulls him on top of her. He could see perky little nipples and he backs away to undo his jeans. To his horror and delight, Sansa lays there, displaying herself like a Greek goddess. She isn't even trying to help him, just enjoying the show. Her legs provide a bit of an opening, a wanton invitation to take what is his.
When he is finished watching, he pulls off his shirt desperately and then ravages her lips, earning a delighted little shriek from the eager teenager. He is on top of her now. One of his hands found their way to her pussy, feeling the heat that is radiating from there. Sandor's fingers rub her slit before diving in completely. He plays with her a bit and he can hear Sansa moaning through her kisses.
When they stop for breath, Sansa gives these weak little whimpers of protests. The noise makes Sandor's cock leak more precum and he knows he has to get inside her. With one hand still fingering Sansa to no end, Sandor frantically searches his drawer for a condom. He wastes no time putting it on when he finds it. The action causes him to stop finger fucking Sansa, and she responds by assaulting him with her lips.
In public, Sansa has this air of delicacy around her; an invisible stamp that says 'fragile' and 'handle with care.' In the bedroom, the red-headed vixen liked it rough.
For caution, he does a slow test nudge to be sure of the angle. He's done this a thousand times before, and half a thousand of those times were with Sansa (a scary thought now that he thinks about it). He knows the way she likes to be fucked and she knows how he likes to make love to her.
She scratches at his arm impatiently, telling him to hurry up without words. Sandor chuckles at her petulant expression. He backs out an inch and she groans in frustration. It doesn't last long before he rams himself forward, busting her open.
Her legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to her. She rocks her hips up against him, clenching around his dick the way he likes. “Good girl,” he praises her, earning a happy chirp. She's fucking adorable, he thinks to himself.
Sansa moans start to fill up the room, and it's the greatest turn on in the world. “Harder! Please!” She begs, and he has to laugh through his own moans. Even in bed, she's fucking polite. Sandor complies, nonetheless, making deeper, faster thrusts inside her. His heavy balls slap against the lips of her twat with wet smacks, while Sansa's own juices drip out of her. He could feel the slick even through his condom and regrets not barebacking. There's nothing better than being surrounded by her raw, tight pussy.
"You're leaking all over the place, little bird,” She tightens at her pet name and Sandor has to dig deeper. “How long has it been since I've fucked you good and proper?"
"Too... long..." she pants weakly, and Sandor laughs.
“No wonder you want it so much--I might have to stuff your pussy a few more times a week if you keep getting this desperate for my cock.” She moans even louder and speeds up the movement of her hips. Sandor can feel her orgasm coming and he loves to have that little flutter around his cock.
He thrust into her a few more times and then maneuvers them so that she's on top. It's a great view, and he can see her nipples, red and swollen from the lack of attention. He takes one in his teeth and bites onto it. "Oh!" She moans.
He squeezes her ass, and she rewards him with another chirp. "Time to show me how much you missed me, little bird. I want to see you fuck yourself on me like it's the last time we'll see each other." As best as she could, she began to fuck herself up and down on his dick while Sandor continues to play with her breasts. They are the nicest pair of tits he's ever seen, though he supposes he's a bit biased. First loves are incomparable to an old fling.
Sansa keeps moving, trying her best to go faster, to please him, but she was already worn out from her first orgasm. He remembers one time she was so determined that she ended up slamming herself down on his tool until the neighbors called the cops. The screaming had gotten to them.
To make sure she doesn't get hurt (she told him she liked it, and he knew did, but rough sex three times a week wasn't healthy for either of them), he grips her hips to control her speed. Sandor pounds into her pliant, welcoming body until he is pumping a huge load into the condom. Sansa shudders through a second orgasm.
He pulls out and carefully lays her onto the sheets. Tossing his condom to the side (he'll throw it away later), tucks her into his arms. Her nightdress, while still on, is stained with various fluids and ripped in a few areas; her thighs are bruised, and more liquids drip out of her swollen cunt. Sansa's red hair washes over her like fire and sweat glistens on her body. It is a sight to drive any man towards a second round, but he was spent for the day. He has to wait until night time to try again.
“That was amazing,” Sansa applauds, she stretches out as much as she could without hurting and snuggles closer into Sandor's arms. “Was it always that great?”
“Dunno,” Sandor mutters, “Been so long without it, I can't remember. I think you broke my dick, though.”
Sansa playfully smacks him on the chest while her face burns as red as her hair, “It's only been two weeks!” Sansa had exams to study for and she couldn't afford any distractions. Sandor never complained once. He understood how important school was to someone her age.
“Two weeks too long,” he counters and then kisses her deeply before she could say anything else. Sansa slid on top of him. When they broke for air, Sansa laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“I missed you,” she confesses. “I missed you lots.”
“Me, too."
“Really?” She sounds so hopeful and Sandor finds himself smiling because of it. He quickly sighs to cover it up, and acts as if he was put off by her expression. Sansa tries to keep a neutral face but it doesn't work with Sandor. His kisses her again to assuage her fears. “I'm going to make you something to drink. You got to be thirsty after that.”
Sansa blushes so prettily that she earns another kiss. “I can help...” she offers weakly.
Sandor raises an eyebrow. “Can you walk?”
Sansa attempts to stand up but there's a painful reminder in her lower regions that says otherwise. She looks down. “I'll stay,” she murmurs.
Sandor chuckles and Sansa glares in embarrassment. He leaves the door just when Sansa throws a pillow at him.
In the kitchen, he grabs a few ingredients to make one of those ridiculous girly drinks that Sansa likes. He use to be reluctant about keeping the ingredients in his home, but then he thinks about those long legs and how her breasts fit in the palm of his hand. He thinks about her cunt and how it opened up for him like it was made for his cock. He thinks about the bruises on her skin that can be covered up but will still remain for days.
His cock twitches, and instead of getting glasses, he grabs a few bottles of water and wine.
It is going to be a long night.