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“Not right now, Mister,” Pickles whines, squirming away from him. Whenever he starts sniffing around her legs, she knows exactly what he’s going for, and normally, she loves absolutely everything about it. Normally, she’s eager to let her boyfriend eat her out, but today, she pushes at his face, and does what she can to angle away from him.
“Huh? Not in the mood?” he asks, rightfully confused. It’s her own fault, for not thinking about it before she let herself get carried away making out with him. She’s always so horny this time of the month, which makes it that much more frustrating to deal with, and she’d forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to encourage him, until he was already leaning down.
“It’s not that, it’s just…” Pickles sighs. If the two of them are going to be serious, she’s going to have to address her periods eventually, she reminds herself. "I"m on my period right now, so it"s totally gross. You wouldn"t want to go down on me."
"Pickles," Mr. Peanutbutter says, his voice and expression sincere, "I can assure you that you"re not Taylor Swift or Katy Perry."
"Um, what do you mean?" she asks, cocking her head. Is he trying to make her feel better, or insult her by telling her that she isn"t a celebrity?
“There’s no Bad Blood here,” he says, his grin so endearing and soothing that it makes it quite easy for her to go along with what he says next. “I could already tell, you know…and that’s actually why I was so excited! Will you still let me eat you out?”
She does, not sure how to feel at first, as her boyfriend kneel between her thighs, her sticky cunt exposed to him, but when he starts lapping at her, and it feels every bit as good as it always does. He moans into her, and his tongue moves in quick, desperate strokes. He"s so into it that Pickles can"t help but feel the same way, and it isn"t long before she"s writhing, her hips twitching towards his face, wanting more of him, always needing more.
She doesn"t understand why he loves this so much, but it"s hard to think of any of this as gross, when he"s making her feel this good. As he laps at her clit, and moans like she"s the most delicious thing he"s ever tasted, Pickles comes, crying out for him. He doesn"t pull away, but instead, he keeps his face between her thighs, working her through her orgasm, and then licking her clean, even when she"s squirming with overstimulation.
"Mister, please," she begs, and finally, he pulls back, panting. His lips and chin are sticky with her blood, but he seems oblivious to this, giddy as a puppy.
Needless to say, it becomes tradition after that for her to alert him of her periods, so that they can both indulge a bit. Once a month, he’s eager for that coded text, reading, daniel day-lewis.