ABCs of Negan

O is for Oral

When it comes to oral sex and Negan....oh god...just thinking about it is enough to make your panties wet. Sure, Negan loves receiving oral. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is never something he would refuse. But he seems to enjoy giving pleasure even more than he enjoys receiving it.

There were the times he'd lay you down on the nearest flat surface, be it his bed or his desk. And then there was that one time, when he took you to the cafeteria late one night, and spread you out on one of the tables. His mouth and hands had trailed down over your body, before he settled in between your thighs and proceeded to drive you insane with pleasure. God, the things that man could do with his tongue. The way he licked your pussy and sucked your clit, sticking his tongue inside you and making you scream. The sounds he made...the way he'd growl against your wet flesh, the vibrations causing you to shudder. He could spend hours down there, pushing you up and over the edge, time and time again. He hadn't stopped until your clit was too sensitive, and you were certain that you couldn't come any more. You had tried to push him away, to close your legs, but that only served to imprint the sensation of his beard against your inner thighs, and the feel of his smile against your soaked cunt. When he was done, he pulled you off the table and watched as you pulled your panties and jeans back on. It was as the two of you were leaving the cafeteria, that he joked that you were the best meal he'd ever eaten in there, causing a flush to cross your cheeks and a shy grin to curl your lips.

There were also the times when he'd randomly push you up against a wall and drop to his knees in front of you. He'd slide your panties down your thighs, before throwing one or both of your legs over his shoulders, and just go to town. It was as if he were a starving man who had just been placed in front of a buffet with all his favorite foods. The first time that he knelt in front of you like that, you almost came just from the sight. Him on his knees, with his face between your legs, his eyes trailing up over your body and locking onto your face, so that he could watch just how much he was affecting you. It was overwhelming, seeing this king of a man kneeling at your feet, for no other reason than to give you pleasure. You'd run a hand through his hair, before tightening your grip as his ministrations caused sparks of heat to dart up your spine. You had used that grip to steer him where you wanted, to push him closer into you, to use him as an instrument for your own pleasure. And he hadn't minded. His only focus had been to make you scream his name, in order to solidify his claim over you and prove to anyone within hearing distance that you were, well and truly, his.

However, your favorite way to have Negan between your thighs was when he let you ride his face. Just the thought of it made your pussy clench. At first, you were too embarrassed, and had looked at him in shock when he suggested it. He had been laying naked on his crimson sheets, that devilish grin on his face as he offered you the ride of a lifetime. He saw your hesitation, then smirked and crooked his fingers while drawling, "Come on, doll. Take what you want." How could you possibly resist, when he put it like that? Straddling his chest, you had crawled up his body until your cunt was hovering over his face. You were tentative at first, barely lowering enough to make contact with him. However, he hadn't been about to allow that, so he wrapped his big hands around your hips and pulled you down hard, practically suffocating himself with your pussy. You had held onto the headboard for dear life as you wiggled and ground down against his face, his beard rubbing against your inner thighs and his nose bumping against your clit in the best way possible. It wasn't long before you exploded over him, closing your eyes and screaming his name, drenching him with your release.

Not only did Negan enjoy the act of going down on you, he also loved to mark you while doing so. That way, he could look the next day and see proof of his claim on you. There was hardly a day that went by where you didn't have some combination of bite marks on your legs, beard burn on your inner thighs, or finger shaped bruises on your hips. And you didn't mind, not one little bit. You proudly wore the marks of his affection, of his lust. You weren't sure if that mouth of his had been constructed by God, or by the devil himself. Either way, all it took was one lick of his tongue, and you were willing to follow him straight into heaven or hell, it didn't matter which.

And he knew it, the bastard. He knew that all it took was him to smile a certain way, or run his tongue over his bottom lip while staring at you, and your mind went immediately into the gutter. Went to thoughts of those lips and tongue against your dripping pussy. He also knew that those simple actions made you instantly wet. Wet and ready, for only him. His talented mouth had absolutely ruined you for any other man...but you wouldn't have it any other way.