[ this isn't how she would have envisioned any first date, even if, in technicality, it hadn't actually been intended to be a date at all. sanji had just been someone kind that she'd been in a public shower with, her standards of men so drastically low that the mere act of not leering over at her naked body when she'd asked him not to had been enough of a relief for her to consider his decency. his invitation to meet her at the red cardinal had lingered with her, mostly because she'd barely known anyone at all in this resort to arrange much else, and while she'd certainly found him handsome when she'd finally set her eyes properly on him (and even more alluring now with the passionate lust in his eyes, with his hovering presence against her lips, how utterly bewitching the sight of his parted mouth with his heavy panting grunts are as their mutual touches buck and stroke), the sweetness of their conversation, for all that it'd pulled at countless smiles upon her face, had only been meant to be promising, something lovely to keep to memory as she would consider the return of those enjoyable meetings if he also wanted them.

and yet, it's the inexplicable state of her aroused body that had somehow propelled them forward, brought them about to this, a mess of shoved clothing, her panties beginning to stretch from the way they catch in the midst of her eagerly parted thighs, his own pants and underwear shoved down nearly as low at his crotch so the fullness of his cock could jut out freely for the grasp of her palm. who am i, she thinks, knowing herself far more timid than this, far more reluctant to entertain a man's attraction in her direction, and yet she finds herself so hungry in this moment, practically lecherous in the way she curves her wrist to stroke her curved fingers along his impressive length, greedy for how thick he is within her hand — and the knowledge that it's her own insatiable desire that's made him this way. ]

You're so big for me, Sanji— so big, you're gonna be so tight inside me. I want to feel it— wanna know how much this big cock will stretch me when you fuck me. [ she follows his lead with the lewd language, her cheeks so flush with heat that she isn't feeling sensible enough to even know if they're too cheesy from their lips, if she's just spouting nonsense that can be heard in a porno. but how could she possibly say anything else, when these words alone can describe the extent of promiscuity she's feeling, how she begins to jerk his fist with an ease that's allowed only by the excess of his beading precum leaking over the curve of his swollen head, allowing for a slippery palm that feels out the girth of what's meant to be stuffed full and deep inside her body, rubbing him down to further excite that already interested stiffness. or when three lengthy fingers begin to jut with speedily hurried thrusts in the depths of her cunt and she's left with nothing but the crude rhythmic thoughts of sanji, sanji, sanji, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—

and that's precisely what he's doing. despite the promise of giving her his cock, his hand seems to be putting in plenty of the work already, as if the slippery slick of her soaked pussy seems to cling from her skin to his, each outward pull springing him back with quick rhythmic thrusts, triple fingers fucking her so intimately that she can feel a heightening spiral that begins to feel incredibly familiar.

his thumb latches at her clit with unforgiving strokes, his words muttered deliciously against her lips between every filthy, spit-ridden kiss, lashing tongues sloppy with heat, the hand at her cheek somehow one of the most gentle caresses she's felt from a man, caught in the midst of such a lewd atmosphere and yet exactly what she needs to keep her sturdy against his body. if she thought her own words were unabashedly vulgar, sanji takes it even further as each filthy sentence hitches her breath with small gasps against his mouth from their delightful promises, her mind spinning as they pair with the slick stimulation of his rutting hand between her legs. it becomes that much more difficult to maintain her own strokes to his cock, the pumping motions becoming more staggered even as her fingers squeeze and rock to continue to smear the precum clinging to her palm. with the crook of his fingers in turn, thicker than her own, better in feeling them plunged to stretch at her walls, she can feel that repeated graze of strokes that has her lips panting shorter, quicker breaths. ]

S-Sanji, I'm— I'm already— [ despite his spoken words in desiring her to come around his cock, tifa knows she won't be able to wait that long. not now, not when he talks of filling her up with his cum (fuck, yes, yes, please, she thinks, the sheer imagery alone of it spilling in her cunt making her moan an elongated noise of pleasure) just as those bent knuckles stroke deeply at the perfect angle, heightening her to a depth of sensation she isn't even sure she's felt before, not like this, not this hard—

and when she comes around his fingers, it isn't with a mere squeeze of greedy walls clinging to those digits. even with all the sopping wetness already dragged and smeared by that expert fingering, an additional gushing squirt soaks over his hand, an involuntary wet spurt timed alongside a soft, needy cry against his lips, her hips jutting without control to fuck herself through the sudden takeover of an empowered climax. ]