A Visitor
Some Mary porn for the lovely @vampyrolesbos as the winner of my fic giveaway!
Mary and you get the idea for some inspired roleplay after a horror flick. Afterwards, you receive a surprise visitor in the middle of the night.
cw: CNC, somnophilia, rough sex, ownership and domination talk, double safewords
It’s nights like this that makes you love Mary even more— the two of you are curled up on the couch together with yet another slasher flick playing on the television set in front of you. A scream rings out from the booming speaker system the two of you invested in and Mary chuckles underneath you, his bony chest moving lightly with the motion. Rain pours down outside, beating against the window in a violent pattern semi-reminiscent of a pounding heartbeat as the wind batters the panes.
“You comfortable, babe?” he asks finally, shifting a little bit underneath you and rearranging your arms gently. “Don’t want you goin’ numb or anything.”
“Yeah? Make it a bit too easy to take me, then?” you toss back, laughing and allowing him to move you to a more comfortable position on the couch, relieving some of the strain on your muscles from holding the position for so long.
“You know me so well, babe.” Mary’s voice is tired but still with an unmistakable tone of humor to it. The two of you often joke around with him “taking advantage” of you when you’re in a compromising position, but he hasn’t acted on it. Yet. Sure, there have been nights where the two of you set safewords to specifically be ignored, but it’s been a while since that happened. “Would you like that?” he asks suddenly, seemingly reading your mind.
“Well, yeah. I mean, it would be you. Taking me. You know how fuckin’ feral I get for you, babe.” You pause, really considering it for a moment. “Yeah. I would.” Mary nods to himself as his hand starts tracing a path down your upper arm. Mary only does that when he’s thinking something particularly hellacious, you know, but you refrain from asking him. Save the surprise for yourself, huh?
After the movie Mary’s phone pings, and he spends a few moments going back and forth in the group text with his band. He’s got to run to the store for cigarettes, and now he’s been invited out to a beer with “the guys”. Reassuring kisses that he’ll be home soon pepper your cheeks, and soon enough you’re alone in the small apartment the two of you share.
— — —
Laying on the bed later that evening, you find yourself scrolling through your phone aimlessly. Tiktoks fly by as you barely pay attention to them, most of your energy focused on staying awake. It’s been an hour or so since Mary left for the store and to meet up with some friends, and the television flickering quietly in the background of your field of vision isn’t the best at keeping you company. You sigh and open your messaging app, scrolling to Mary’s name and opening the conversation, already typing out a message to him.
“Come home, I’m bored and lonely.” You hit send and there’s a small woosh as the message delivers, and an almost immediate ping when he replies, almost as if he was holding his phone and waiting for you to message him. A small smile plays around your lips as you envision the scene— Mary sitting with his friends and nursing a beer, his phone safe under his left hand on the table as he waits to feel it buzz with your love-turned-text.
“Wuts the safe wrds?” the message reads, and you instantly sit up a little straighter on the bed, a curl of arousal already spreading down your spine, just tickling you into sub-interest. You know when he asks for two words he intends to blow past the first, a staple in your relationship that’s been talked to death and back.
“Red and pineapple,” you text back quickly. This time there’s no response, and you put your phone down onto the bed face up as you wait, watching the screen light up with other messages, easily ignored. Pings from other applications and notifications keep filtering through, but none of them catch your eye unless it pertains to Mary. Even still, there’s only so many Instagram notifications of his latest single that you can take, and you wind up losing that small bubble of hope for a response over time.
Eventually a minute turns into an hour, turns into two. Two hours bleeds into midnight, and you soon find yourself nodding off on top of the bed you share, no longer able to keep your eyes open as you wait for your boyfriend to come home. You know he'll likely wake you up in your favourite way, and the thought puts a smile on your face as you finally slip beneath the veil of slumber. It finds you fast, exhausted as you are from being pent up and horny all evening.
—
“Be quiet, or I’ll snap your pretty neck.”
Your eyes fly open as your brain surges uncomfortably into awareness, the blanket of sleep pulled sharply from you. There’s a hand over your mouth, and another hand fumbling under the covers for your underwear, sharp fingernails scrabbling at your skin in what feels like desperation. You squirm slightly, hardly daring to make a sound, not wanting to know if the threat was true or not.
Your mind reels, panic seeping into every corner. The menacing whisper had come from just above you, an unseen figure in the cloak of darkness. The phantom presence’s hands are strong and unyielding, and you can feel the sharp pressure of what you think might be a blade against your neck. It’s a sensation you’ll never forget, one that brings the threat to life with a chill running down your spine.
“Just listen to me, and no one has to get hurt.” The voice is unequivocally Mary’s but there's still that cold trickle of fear in your belly that leads directly down to your core. His sharp and somewhat ragged fingernails catch on the edge of your panties and finally pulls them free of your skin, pulling the silky material down your legs and throwing them away with haste over his shoulder. He pulls them off of you with such ferocity that you're certain that there will be fingernail marks on your skin later. The thought makes your cunt clench.
“What are you going to do to me?” you ask, another sharp curl of fear entwining around your spinal cord. He doesn't answer, instead opting to throw your legs wide with one shove of those broad shoulders that you love so much. Mary’s long finger slides through your folds, pressing against your entrance with a trained tease that has you squirming— almost too late, you remember your role to play. “No, stop!” you gasp, twisting now in an attempt to get away instead of further pleasure.
“What, s’your boyfriend in the other room?” Mary asks, and the accompanying eye roll is visible even in the dimness of your shared bedroom. He always plays this part well, and the cold indifference to your perceived suffering sends another thrill of arousal curling down to your toes. “And look, this cunt wants me.” Mary pulls his hand away from your pussy for a moment, sucking the evidence of your arousal off of his finger with an exaggerated moan. “Oh! But I should stay quiet, huh? Wouldn’t want that big, buff boyfriend to come and find me.”
“He’s bigger than you, and way more dangerous,” you say, inwardly laughing at his clear mental fumble.
“Baby girl, no one’s more dangerous than me.” Mary, seemingly finished with talk, rears back and grips your arms tightly, rolling you over underneath him until you’re flat on your stomach. One of his coarse, rough hands slides up your scalp to grab a bundle of your hair, pressing your face into the goose down pillows until your half-hearted pleas can’t be heard.
It’s only then that you hear the jangle of his belt being undone with one hand, and the tug of his zipper; the slight cursing as his fist tightens in your hair and his other hand pulls his cock free of his boxers. There’s the push of his slickened fingers swiping through your folds, gently prodding at your entrance and then the push as he lines his cock up and presses forward. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, his cock sliding into you to the hilt, slick as you are.
Mary’s fist tightens in your hair again as his other hand grips your shoulder, pulling you against him in time with his own hips, the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass the only thing audible in the darkened room, save for your pants and groans into the pillows. He sounds animalistic— growls and grunts fall from his lips with nearly every move he makes, and his hands control you in ways you’ve never felt him do before.
“Mare- fuck, Mare!” you groan into the pillows, your legs starting to shake as you try to hold yourself up for him. “Red!” The faux safe word falls from your hips as you think about repositioning, but a large part of you knows that he’ll ignore it unless you say the other safe word… and ignore it he does, blowing past your feigned safeword and instead dropping the ruse of the invader.
“Don’t make me stop, baby, you know how much I fuckin’ love this pussy.” True to his word, he keeps going, dropping your hair and running a hand down your back possessively. “Aren’t you my girl?” he says, leaning in over you as he fucks you, deep and slow. You feel the press of his lips against your shoulder, quickly replaced by his teeth as he bites you hard, his teeth deeply indenting the skin there— you know it’ll bruise, bright purple and dark yellow, and the thought goes directly to your clit.
You cum around his cock, not for the last time, your cunt clenching as you rock through it. The rubber band in your gut snaps and waves of pleasure course through you, dropping you back down into the pillows as you moan and shiver with it. Mary slows himself down, fucks you through it perfectly, his cock grinding into the spot you love slowly and deliberately. He knows your body well, and you trust him to give you the best orgasm possible.
“See? I know this pussy.” Mary pulls out slowly, giving you time to adjust. Once his cock falls free, he spanks your cunt with four fingers, rubbing your clit roughly and chuckling when you squirm in overstimulation — one of the things he insists is one of his favorites, watching you squirm and beg for the sensations to stop, for a reprieve from pleasure. Another moment of the torment and you whine, kicking your legs at him until he finally relents and pulls his hand away. “Tell me.”
“It’s yours, Mary,” you relent, pushing yourself up onto your forearms with shaking and trembling muscles, sweating from your orgasm and still breathing heavily. “Your pussy.”
“That’s what I thought.” He spanks your ass once, sharply, before bringing his hands to your hips and flipping you over onto your back. Your head jolts against the pillow and you gasp, disoriented and seeing black from the quick and unexpected movement. When your vision clears you finally see him above you— Mary Goore, his black hair shocked up with sweat, and his face flushed and red in the moonlight coming in through the windows. “Say it for me again, baby.”
“Your pussy,” you relent with a sigh, spreading your legs for him again as he situates himself between them.
“That’s fuckin right,” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself, as he looks down towards his cock, gripped tightly in one hand as he drags the head of his cock through your folds again. When you whimper with desire he surges forward, sliding back into you with an exhaled tone of pleasure, hands landing on either side of your face.
“Mary-” His cock cuts you off, pressing against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars, pressing and pressing and pressing and then suddenly you’re cumming again, full of him and so perfectly taken.
“Love you,” comes his only response as he fucks you through your second orgasm, his lips coming to rest on your neck as he presses kiss after kiss to the tender skin there. Mary flattens himself over you, thrusting against you slowly and languidly until he cums, his cock pulsing inside of you with every heartbeat. When he’s finished he lays there for a moment, the two of you breathing in tandem and allowing your heart rates to return to normal.
Finally you grumble and tap on his side, signaling him to roll off of you. He acquiesces with a grunt and a groan as he pushes himself up with one arm, rolling sideways to land beside you on his back. Almost instantly he reaches to the side for a pack of cigarettes that lay there, lighting one and passing it to you, which you wave away for the moment.
“That was fuckin’ good.” You hold up your fist and Mary taps it with his own, blowing out a long stream of smoke from his nostrils. “Where’d you get the idea to wake me up from?” Mary pulls another drag from the cigarette, the end of it flaring in time with his chuckle.
“Nosferatu.”
“Say ‘sike’. Seriously?” you laugh, pushing yourself up onto your side to look at him. He’s gorgeous like this, draped languidly on your bed like some sort of goth otherworldly creature, naked and pale and so effortlessly handsome.
“Seriously. Did you like it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes. You smile and nod, moving a hand forward to tuck his hair out of his face before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his still flushed cheek.
“Of course I did, it was you.”
“Good, cause I’m off duty for the night, that was way too much exertion.” Mary stretches his arms above his head and groans with the movement, his legs shaking when he ends the stretch. “I’m gonna finish this cigarette on the porch and then I’ll join you for sleep.” He stands and leans down, pecking a kiss on your forehead. “Get some sleep, I won’t wake you up this time.”
“Okay but— you could, if you wanted.” You wink at him and pull the covers up, settling back in. You know he won’t wake you again, but the thought of it still makes you tingle a little bit. When you open your eyes again he’s gone, the door to the porch open and a slight breeze coming through.
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