Thread: GoT - A Wolf and a Mockingbird (Miss Tris x Shadows)

To hear him speak was a guilty indulgence on Sansa's part. Early on, she had taken an attraction to his silver tongue she enjoyed listening to the man talk, even in circumstances far less intimate than the present. And in the present...she ceased to remind herself that, in fact, Petyr had a silver tongue. In her current state she was willing to accept whatever sweet nothing he gave her, allowing it to fuel her lust without question. As he spoke of her beauty her hand slipped deeper beneath the thin material of her panties, fingertips brushing open the lips of her womanhood as they redirected upwards. The warmth of arousal coated her fingers, lubricating her touch as attention shifted back to her clit. She massaged herself in small, circular motions, her alternate hand pawing possessively at her breast. There was nothing more gratifying than hearing Lord Baelish's desires. She continued to molest herself as he spoke of wanting to touch and pleasure her she locked eyes with him as he spoke of kissing and desiring her touch. He wanted release. In time, Sansa spoke softly in response. She studied the man for several moments, her hand removing itself from within her panties. Without ceremony she shifted her position seating herself to the man's side, facing away from him. She leaned back, settling with her shoulder blades on the bend on of Lord Baelish's ribcage. Her head tipped back, pressing on to his chest, and she turned her face to look up at Petyr. She offered a playful smirk as she imagined how he might appreciate or perhaps even resent, given the circumstances the view afforded to him. She placed a hand at each hip, thumbs hooked beneath the band of her only remaining article of clothing, teasing the motion of removing the material. Her lingering, coupled with the way she looked at Petyr no doubt he could easily read she wanted to hear more of his singing. Pledge to me, Petyr. Swear to me your love and absolute loyalty. Sansa slid the material of her panties down her smooth, creamy thighs over the bend of her knee and downwards past her feet. Once clear of her body, the article was carelessly tossed aside. Her touch settled on her thighs, fingers tracing towards the apex between her legs. She listened to Petyr speak, enraptured by the sound of his voice, pleased by the context of his words. Slowly, the gap between her legs widened. A hand traveled from her hip, up her stomach, while the other moved to her now exposed slit. Simultaneously she fondled a breast while running a pair of fingertips along the wet folds of her pussy. It wasn't but moments later that she used those fingers to penetrate herself. Her head rolled back against Petyr's chest, her eyes fluttering shut and her brows drawing inwards as a moan escaped her lips. She pushed her fingers deeper, prolonging the moan, her body giving a light shutter. Drawing the hand back slowly, she pulled her fingers out to the last knuckle, and paused briefly to take a breath. Again, Sansa pumped her fingers into her wanting hole, a steady rhythm to the piston of her hand developing shortly thereafter. Her back arched and she emitted a lustful whimper. In her mind, it was Petyr doing the touching Petyr plunging his fingers inside of her, lovingly preparing her body to take his large cock. She imagined him kissing her breasts, offering a playful bite to her nipple - she pinched the nub of flesh to simulate the sensation - a quick inward breath proceeded Sansa biting upon her lower lip. Given Petyr's positioning, he couldn't rightly see the details of what was going on between the young woman's legs. His line of sight tapered off somewhere at the bend of Sansa's mound, giving him perhaps peeks or flashes of more if the lady shifted herself accordingly. Still, there was plenty for his sight to take in, otherwise, and there couldn't possibly be any doubt of as to what was happening. She continued in such a manner for several minutes, the hand at her breast eventually venturing downwards to play with her clit as she continued to finger fuck herself. Her body was ever moving squirming against Lord Baelish as she moaned and gasped and trembled. As both hands worked between her legs she brought herself close to climax...and then she stopped. I want to feel you inside of me, Petyr, Sansa suddenly confessed. Her eyes opened and she looked at the older male's face, seeking to catch his gaze. She continued speaking quickly so as not give him too much false hope. It won't be tonight...perhaps not even tomorrow... But for my sake, I'm going to imagine it. She sat up, turning at the waist to keep her attention on her could-be lover. Her body followed the motion at her hips, the result bringing her back on to her knees. Sit up, she instructed. As he moved she'd prop a pillow against the headboard behind him, allowing for him to lean back slightly once settled. Sansa straddled his lap. Her knees brushed against his upper thighs no other points of contact being made, though her body remained only inches away from his. She held herself high on her knees, hovering just above the tip of his erect manhood. The height of her position versus his left his face directly level with her youthfully firm and perky breasts. Now the real test of his restraint was to begin. Sansa's hands cupped her breasts before trailing down the curve of her waist and the flair of her hips. Sapphire eyes watched Lord Baelish intently. It was cruel, she knew, that she wanted him to suffer like this...but she wasn't even the least bit remorseful. She resumed pleasuring herself. She began by rubbing her clit, the pad of her middle finger teasing the nub as her other fingers descended further to push open her lips. She glistened with a sheen of arousal. After several moments she lowered her hand, positioning two fingers just outside of her opening. She teased the idea of penetration but held off. Bending forward, she lowered her lips to Petyr's ear. I will be yours, Petyr, she whispered. You need only to wait. She righted her posture and watched the man as she pushed her pointer and middle fingers inside of herself. Her expression contorted with pleasure. She began to develop a rhythm once again, although this time she moved her body rather than her hand . The effect being that she steadily rose and lowered herself above Lord Baelish's lap, not at all touching him but most certainly simulating riding his cock. Her pacing was unhurried but it was with enough drive behind it that her breasts were in a state of perpetual bouncing. You feel so good, Sansa purred, obviously back to imagining Petyr as she did when masturbating.