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Paint it Black (Lay the Very Best - Chapter 389)
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 22:24:37 +0000 UTCMorgan eased Calcine down into the comfy pile that had been laid out for them, the cushions sinking beneath her weight with a plush sigh. Calcine shifted slowly and deliberately as the soft give of the padding welcomed her bulk. Her thighs parted, solid and inviting, and Morgan didn't climb into her lap right away. She lingered instead, hovering just before her, fingers grazing along Calcine's knee.
They locked eyes.
Morgan reached out and brushed her hands over Calcine's thighs, lightly feeling the shape of muscle that refused to yield to her touch. Her fingers trailed higher, teasing just under the hem of the shorts before withdrawing again.
Calcine's burning white eyes followed her, unblinking.
Morgan felt her feathers fluff out as an involuntary shiver ran through her wings. That gaze, pure molten focus, set her alight from the inside out. The brim of Morgan's hat cast a shadow across her face, but it wasn't enough to hide the flush creeping over her cheeks or the way her breath caught.
Morgan shifted like she could shrug off the attention, but the pressure of Calcine's stare only deepened the flush in her chest. It was overwhelming. Delicious.
"Stop looking at me like that," she muttered, entirely insincere.
Calcine's smirk deepened, but she said nothing.
Morgan swallowed and dragged her fingertips slowly up the curve of Calcine's thigh, needing to touch something solid to ground herself. Her wings twitched again, unruly and ruffled feathers tickling against Calcine's firm skin. "You're making it very hard to be in control here, you know that?"
"You wanted it," Calcine murmured. "If you can't handle it, just say."
"Handle it? Please." The words came out a little too fast, and Morgan knew how fake it sounded. She leaned in closer, close enough that her breath tickled Calcine's throat, her red eyes shimmering with bravado she barely held together. She had to fake it until it became real. She wasn't going to mess this up.
Her hand slid down Calcine's front, fingers tracing the straining bulge in those too tight pants. Her breath hitched at the sheer size of it, the heat pulsing through the fabric.
She squeezed it. Experimental. Thorough.
Calcine grunted softly.
Morgan's cheeks burned hotter. She couldn't help the little noise she made as her fingers stroked along the thick length, her mind trying and failing to wrap around the fact that this was real. That this monster of a cock was hers to handle.
"You're so stupidly fucking big," Morgan muttered. She looked up at Calcine, feathers fluffed out, and lips parted. "How do you even walk around with this thing?"
Calcine smirked but didn't answer. She didn't need to. It was an effortless victory.
Morgan swallowed and pressed her palm against the heat again, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Trying to be a good date here, but I don't know if I can top this."
Calcine leaned forward, her voice a low rumble like distant thunder. "You don't have to top anything. You sitting there, flustered, trying so damn hard not to tremble?" Her hand rose to cup Morgan's cheek, fingers calloused and warm. "You've got no idea how irresistible you are now that I know you're all mine."
Morgan's bravado cracked at that. It was too much, and her hand was still resting on Calcine's cock, and she gave an instinctive squeeze like she needed something to hold onto. " I'm going to do my thing now."
Calcine didn't give her time to retreat. She shifted forward, pressing her palm flat against the small of Morgan's back, guiding her in. Her other hand moved lower, firm and sure, gripping her thigh and pulling her close until there was no space left between them.
"Mine," Calcine murmured, her hot breath making Morgan sweat even more.
The words hit like a spark to dry tinder. Morgan's breath caught, her body arching into Calcine's touch as a small, involuntary moan escaped her lips. Her fingers clenched at that tremendous bulge in Calcine's pants. She was melting, undone by the force of it, and yet the weight of Calcine's hands held her together.
Calcine leaned in, pressing a kiss beneath Morgan's ear, lips hot and possessive. "Say it," she growled. "What are you?"
Morgan trembled in her arms. "Yours."
She swallowed after saying it, her wings giving a soft, involuntary twitch. Calcine was so close. So solid. So painfully, beautifully composed. She was a pillar of heat and stone, every inch of her carved with quiet confidence and steady, grounding presence. What was Morgan compared to that? A flustered, horny, mouthy Murkrow with shaking fingers and feathers that wouldn't stay down? It was useless to think those thoughts because she could feel Calcine up this close, and her held-back desire was all too obvious. One scraggly bird was worth more than the world to the Coalossal right now. A bird with feathers all askew, mind spiraling with want, a sharp tongue that was so busy tripping over itself it felt like it had knotted.
Calcine looked at that mess as if it were an irreplaceable prize.
Morgan dragged in a breath, steadied herself, and forced her head high again. If she were going to drown in all this love, she'd do it on her terms. She leaned forward, close enough that their noses nearly touched.
"Stop being sexy and let me work." Morgan chided.
"I'll try."
"You're awful at it." Morgan smiled, "Try harder."
Morgan leaned back just enough to take in the full view before her, and her eyes gleamed with naked hunger. She trailed her gaze slowly across Calcine's frame, taking in the thick slabs of muscle across her arms, the sculpted definition of her abs, and the impossible tension coiled into her thighs. Her tongue flicked out over her lips in a flash of base instinct she didn't bother hiding.
"I better be this hot when I evolve," Morgan murmured, her hands gliding up Calcine's abdomen and enjoying the feeling of the ridges flowing over her fingers. Her fingers mapped each line of hard muscle.
They adjusted to each other in a slow, unspoken rhythm. Calcine's hands slid instinctively to her hips, guiding her into place, and Morgan let her, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Calcine's collarbone as her ass got ground against Calcine's dick.
"Comfy?" she asked, wiggling slightly just to feel the way Calcine stiffened beneath her.
Calcine didn't answer. Her grip on Morgan's hips tightened slightly, thumbs brushing the curve of her waist. Her hands roamed more boldly now, sliding up Morgan's sides, savoring the texture of feathers and skin. She let her fingers trail up to Morgan's back, then down again to rest at the curve where the spine met the tail. She didn't need to speak when her touch could coax breathy little sighs from Morgan, who squirmed under the attentive fingers.
"Stop that. You'll make me forget what I'm doing."
Calcine smirked but relented, hands settling back onto her thighs, heat still radiating from every inch.
Morgan turned with a flick of her tail feathers and tugged the duffel bag closer. Her fingers hovered, thoughtful, before selecting the eyeliner. It wasn't the easiest canvas to work on; dark skin and burning white eyes already had plenty of contrast, and it took a deep application of kohl around the eyes to add to that. With a finger, Morgan smudged shadow into already smoky skin. Calcine let her work; eyes half-lidded as Morgan moved close, too close, with every brush stroke.
"Kiss me if you want it."
"How kind of you to offer," Morgan said sweetly and kissed the tip of Calcine's nose between applications. Calcine didn't bother hiding the smile.
Morgan lingered for a moment longer, eyes roaming across Calcine's face, committing every line to memory. She reached again into the duffel, this time retrieving a small tube of gloss. With deliberate care, she uncapped it and leaned in, the faint scent of something sweet and dark curling in the air between them.
"Don't move," she whispered and, with the gentlest touch, began applying the gloss to Calcine's lips. Slow strokes, gliding across that firm mouth and making the lips purse.
Morgan leaned in and stole a kiss, soft and quick, right across the glossed lips she'd just finished painting. Calcine made a quiet sound in her throat, not quite a laugh, not quite a groan.
"Black looks good on your pale skin," Calcine murmured as Morgan wiped it off her lips, her voice low and warm. "Maybe I should be the one painting you."
Morgan flushed but didn't look away. "Wait your turn."
"I can throat you while you work", Calcine said confidently. "I just don't want to make your work sloppy."
Morgan's cheeks flushed hot as she stepped closer, fingers trailing up Calcine's front to the straining buttons of her shirt. She undid them slowly, one by one, planting playful kisses just beside each exposed inch of skin. Calcine's breath deepened with every press of Morgan's lips, and when a button evaded her sweaty fingers, Morgan just grabbed both sides of the shirt and yanked, popping the rest open in a rush.
Calcine's chest spilled out, glorious and massive, glowing faintly with inner heat. "Want to suck on them?"
"You're evil," Morgan huffed, "Too much of Sparky in you."
"A lot of me also got put into Sparky," Calcine smirked. "Want to see how much?"
"Evil. Shush."
Morgan pulled out a black mesh top, hands grazing Calcine's arms as she guided it down over those impossibly broad shoulders. The fabric stretched tight across Calcine's chest, clinging to her desperately to try to hold back the tide. Morgan couldn't help but let her fingers linger, brushing across the swell of those breasts as they threatened to burst out.
Next came the leather corset belt, which took real effort to cinch. Morgan huffed softly as she worked, tugging the laces tighter until Calcine's waist pulled inward just enough to make her already dramatic form a true work of art. Some chains followed, looping around her shoulders and hips, more decoration than restraint, though Morgan briefly fantasized about trying to tie Calcine up.
Calcine shifted slightly, and the mesh made a soft, tearing sound. Ruining Morgan's fantasy. There was no way chains would restrain this beast.
"Oops," Calcine said, "Will a torn look be okay?"
Morgan didn't answer. Her eyes were stuck on the way the mesh clung tighter with every breath Calcine took, the fabric fraying and splitting around the swell of her chest. The slowly expanding rips gave Calcine a battle-worn look that was mouth-wateringly good, a vision of barely contained strength in a costume meant for breaking.
"Arceus, help me; your body is insane," Morgan muttered, the words barely making it out past her stunned awe.
"You all deserve to enjoy it," Calcine said. "Are you enjoying it?"
"It's making my night."
"I'm happy you're enjoying it then," Calcine said, squeezing Morgan's rear. "I'm absolutely thrilled you have to get my pants off next."
Morgan snapped back to reality with a jerk. Her eyes flicked down, then widened.
"Oh," she said. "Oh no."
Because taking those off meant unleashing what was beneath. That thick, heavy promise of pressure she'd been pressing against, teasing through the fabric. She wasn't ready.
But she wanted it.
Desperately.
Calcine raised a brow. "Need help?"
Morgan shook her head quickly, breath catching. "No. I've got it. I just need a second. Arcues, you're going to destroy me."
"That is the plan," she rumbled, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You can finish this makeover when I'm not going to smear it all over your body. No more stalling. You've got a mountain to scale."
Comments
Irish Not Sane
Poor Morgan, she’s never going to recover from her fantasies
