Chapter Text
“You may proceed.”
The unfazed, almost nonchalant way in which he says it makes your cheeks heat with a blush. You duck your head attempting to hide it, not wanting to catch the attention of the amber orbs behind his goggles, because this is embarrassing.
It doesn’t matter that he had tried to reassure you of otherwise, even going to the length of pulling up factually backed-up statistics and numbers to demonstrate that this was, in fact, not just a you-problem and that, all in all, it was a quite common and perfectly normal barrier to encounter.
If it was so common, you had thought to yourself with a twist of bitterness that you couldn’t entirely conceal, then why did no one talk about it?
Why did no one tell you that oral sex, which seemed to be coveted as this wonderful, otherworldly experience, instead felt...kind of awful?
Okay, maybe that was overkill. But in all honesty, the first drag of Tech’s tongue across your clit had felt like fire, your entire body going rigid and your breath catching in your throat. You thought you had just been surprised, and decided that maybe if you just stuck it out a bit longer, the sensation would melt into something enjoyable.
But it didn’t.
You had remained frozen, stuck in the limbo between fight or flight as the all-encompassing, almost to the point of being painful, sensations continued to build. And then his lips, gentle and curious, had enclosed around the small nub, and before you knew it, you were flinching away, crying out that it was too much and that you couldn’t as you frantically tried to close your legs.
That had begun much more tentative trial and error experimenting, with Tech peppering you with a series of bluntly forward and to the point questions that had made you blush so hard as you answered that you were sorely tempted to hide your face against the pillows.
He had determined, after you had haltingly explained how, when you were getting yourself off, you usually found it easier to move against something, that a change of position and technique was in order.
“You have come to the reasonable conclusion that, due to your sensitivities, it is much more effective for you to be able to maintain and control how much pressure, and how broad and or focussed the stimulation you receive is,” he had stated, fingers lightly tapping against his knee in thought.
You had nodded, because yes? Maybe you hadn’t thought about it so deeply, and only really saw your solution as a means to an end rather than a well-thought out and perfectly logical solution, but yeah—what he had described was such an on-the-nose reflection of your experience that it was easy for you to go along with whatever his line of thought was leading to.
His line of thought, however, had taken you by more than slight surprise and had found you with his expectant gaze looking down at you while your legs straddled one of his broad thighs. You were rendered completely incapable of doing anything but perching there, frozen and unsure, despite knowing in the back of your head what you were expected to do next.
“Tech,” you mutter, your cheeks still heated and unable to tear your eyes away from how your legs rest on either side of his thigh, “I can’t.”
His fingers are light beneath your chin but insistent as he tilts it upward, quirking an eyebrow as he looks down at you. You swear the way his thigh muscles tense and flex slightly beneath you is deliberate. “I think you can,” he counters, and there’s both a slight edge of challenge and a gentler underlying encouragement laced within his tone.
Here you are, perched in his lap and completely bare. Meanwhile, he’s still wearing his blacks, and the heated, slightly rough material dragging against your folds as he presses it up against you has you shivering, your head tilting back.
“Show me,” he tells you, his voice a low command against your ear as he slowly rocks his thigh against you, the material of his blacks catching so deliciously against your clit that you think you might whimper softly. “Show me how you make yourself come.”
“B-but I can’t when you’re just watching me like this,” you say, your voice strained. Despite your protest, you’re tentatively beginning to move your hips, slow and exploring as you try to find what feels good.
“Oh, I can assure you that I will be doing more than simply watching,” Tech murmurs, and before you know it, his face is buried against your neck, the feeling of his breaths causing you to shudder, and his lips, warm as they trace a path upward towards the shell of your ear, where he languidly drags his tongue, make you let out a rather undignified whine.
“Did you know,” he muses conversationally, his voice barely above a whisper, “that the ears are one of the most sensitive erogenous zones on the body?”
“I-is right now really the time for infodumping?” you ask, hands reaching out to grip onto his shoulders, attempting to steady yourself as your hips continue to move, the strong, taut muscles of his thigh firm and heated as they press against your core.
“Mm,” he hums low, a soft exhalation of breath before his lips suddenly close around your earlobe, lightly tugging it as he runs it between his teeth, the result of which seeming to send a jolt of heat straight between your legs, your thighs squeezing around his legs and the careful rhythm you had been building with the slow circles of your hips stuttering in response. “I believe that information to be pertinent, as yours particularly seem to elicit a favorable response to stimulation.”
You don’t have to look at him to see the shit-eating smirk that’s pulling at the corners of his lips. Not that—with the heated, firm expanse of his thigh dragging against your folds and surrounding your clit with a warm, pleasantly building pleasure—you could really bring yourself to care at this point.
“There are others,” he continues, seemingly unfazed by your quickening breaths or the tight grip you have on his shoulders as you rock your hips with growing speed against his thigh. “I believe it was right here...”
His lips return to a particularly tender spot on the side of your neck, tongue fluttering over the rapidly beating pulse point beneath, listening to the stammered whimper you let out in response.
“Mm,” he hums against your skin, teeth lightly grazing over the spot. “That’s the one.”
You can’t help the soft moan that falls from your lips, your hips continuing to squirm as you now desperately attempt to chase the high that is taking its sweet time sneaking up on you.
“I quite enjoy how responsive you are to this particular area, but I wonder...”
Tech’s gaze is shameless as he drags his eyes along your form, observing with pleasure your head tilted back with your cheeks flushed, your eyes fluttered shut. They linger on your chest, his lips parting.
“The nipples can also be an extremely erogenous zone for some,” he murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts move as you continue to circle your hips. “What I find that I am particularly enjoying about having you in this position is how they are at the perfect height for me to look at as you pleasure yourself.”
He reaches up, his hand warm and large as it lightly cups one of your breasts, thumb slow and teasing as it drags along the underside, coaxing your nipple to harden. He experimentally rolls the pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger, and at the stuttered gasp of pleasure he gets in response, he gives it a gentle tweak, softly pulling until you moan.
He leans forward, cupping the other in his hand and blowing out a cool breath against your skin. He leaves a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses that surround the swell of your breast, tongue lightly swirling over your areola before, with a gentle suck, he takes your hardening nipple into his mouth, combining slow, coaxing drags of his tongue and quick, light flicks against it until he feels it fully stand at attention, letting out a pleased hum against your skin.
“I do not wish to neglect other erogenous areas,” Tech continues, and you have to wonder if he knows how thoroughly he’s made a mess of you, your mind engulfed by a thick, pleasure-filled haze that only grows thicker with every touch, every increasingly desperate rock of your hips against him.
“The lower back, notably, is quite the vulnerable area when it comes to being touched,” he whispers, fingernails lightly dragging down your spine. “But I have no intention of neglecting this.”
His hand descends further, lightly caressing over the curve of your ass, before squeezing more firmly, roughly kneading it until you moan, your thighs clenching around his.
“T-Tech,” you whimper, arching and growing more frantic in your movements. “I need, I need more.”
He hums, adjusting to press his thigh more roughly against your pussy, lightly rocking it so that it drags with more pressure against your clit. You whine, your head tipping back, and Tech smirks, taking the opportunity to lean forward and trail his lips towards your ear.
“I can feel how wet you are against me,” he murmurs low against your ear, and you blush, suddenly very aware of the wet trail that clings to the material of his blacks. “Does this feel good?” he asks, his hand back to toying with one of your nipples.
“Yes,” you whine, your cheeks flushed and your head thrown back. “Fuck, yes it does.”
“Then why don’t you show me how good it feels and come?” he asks, voice rough against your ear.
You whimper, his words being the final nudge that pushes you over the edge, your hips feverish as they roll against his thigh.
Your own thighs have locked around his. You’re only able to focus on the white hot, searing pleasure that throbs through your pussy in long, lingering pulses, until you’re left gasping and clinging to Tech for dear life, tipped forward and slumped against him.
In the silence that follows, you breathe, listening to Tech’s own soft breaths, feeling his gaze, heavy and wanting, fixated on you as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Well,” Tech comments, his voice quiet as his arms settle around you lightly. “I believe that was effective.”
“It was,” you agree, nodding your head, hesitating before continuing. “But I don’t want that to be the only way you can get me off.”
It was nice, there’s no denying that. Far more pleasurable than grinding against your hand or rubbing yourself against a pillow. But it’s still a lot of work for your hips, and perhaps you’re being a little bit greedy for thinking so, but you still want more.
“Of course not,” he murmurs in agreement, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I believe I can learn from my prior missteps and adapt to your sensitivities when delivering oral stimulation, if you would be agreeable to trying it again.”
You hum, nodding your head and looking up at him, a mix of trust and curiosity in your eyes as you study his features.
“Yeah,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.”