Bruno Bucciarati : Camping

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This was a Tumblr request I got before fucking Halloween. Either way, enjoy this spicy Bucciarati.

Behave yourselves, I'm off to watch the dishes. :)

EDIT: this is supposed to say 'wash' but it's taken me so long to get the jokes I'm keeping it as it is 😂😂 sometimes my dyslexia just writes sounds instead of the actual spelling, so often you may notice I've used the wrong 'to' and stuff like that

You didn't strike him as the type to go camping. Bucciarati seemed way too elegant for something as rustic and dirty as that. What had been a chilly night soon turned into a clear and calm morning, the sun beginning to slowly rise behind tall trees surrounding the tent. Light seeped through the waterproof cover, a slight warmth engulfing you both towards the end of sleep. Bruno was the first to wake up, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. Glancing down at you, it warmed his heart to see you so curled up and cute, heavy breaths indicating you weren't quite awake yet. A man dedicated to his work, sneaking into a different position was easy, as was slinking under the covers without popping the blow-up mattress. You began to wake up to the tender caress of his fingers, rubbing small circles into your thighs and working their way up. His lips found sensitive skin on your legs, kissing a trail of gentle lust up towards your stomach first. Groaning, your eyes fluttered open to the shape of his bum sticking up beneath the blanket and moving round. Allowing him to prise open your legs gently, he nipped and licked around your stomach, kneading your hips and thighs as he went. Soft skin between his hands was like marshmallows melting in a drink of hot chocolate, your relaxing muscles responding to his stimuli already. Stroking his palms over your torso, they slid beneath your thin t-shirt to lightly squeeze the mounds that were your breasts. Nipples hardening, he pinched them between his fingers a little, earning a slight groan from you. Since the blanket was gradually migrating downwards, you were able to see his smooth hands beneath your clothes, searching for some deliciousness to touch and feel. Smiling a little, you placed your hands on top of his over the t shirt, his knuckles punching holes into your palms. Already, you were struggling to keep it in your pants. You needed him to do something to you, now. Removing one hand from your chest, you let it dive under the mattress to find his ebony tresses, massaging into his scalp briefly before pressing down on his head to guide him where you wanted his mouth. Bruno eventually got the point, giving you room to spread your legs for him to work his magic.
Your heart began to pound of your chest with anticipation, his mouth hovering over your clothed sex. The hands disappeared, sinking back beneath the quilt to rid you of your pants. Pulling the legs down, he tugged them over your legs with a bit of help from you, shifting into position for him to take you in. Shuffling back so he could rest on his stomach and get comfortable, the man pressed his lips to yours to start with, making you choke a gasp and moisten. Stretching out your arms, you checked there would be something to hold onto, just in case. Finally, he began to lick your folds, lapping up more and more surface area each time. Every now and again he would tease your fleshy nub, flicking his tongue over it or sucking it between his teeth to make you gasp and whine. Eating deeper, his nose was beginning to touch your opening, the intense sensations and wild clapping of his mouth forcing your back to arch and grind against his face. When your breaths began to grow ragged, he picked up the pace, switching out long, deep licks for light, rushed ones, focusing more on your throbbing clit and your begs. As your stomach began to tighten, you knew it was time to warn him, tears rolling down your face from the repeated pleasure of his strokes. Now your hands were in his hair, fingers entangling themselves between the soft locks to steady yourself grinding him into oblivion. Before long, you were barely able to speak, only sounds of shuddering moans and pants coming out as he taunted you through your orgasm for the fourth time sending the nerve endings crazy. Rolling your head back on your neck through writhing, your skin was stinging like a rash, his talented tongue angelically lapping you up like a saucer of scrumptious milk.

Eventually finishing, he pressed tender kisses to your spasming muscles, leisurely trailing them up towards your chest and resting his head on it. Bruno's face was cherry red, wet and sore from mopping up your mess downstairs. You guessed that the real reason he enjoyed camping was the peace and quiet.

From everybody else, anyway.

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