Marvel's bedroom was painted in a sepia hue with just the bedside lamps on. Sitting half naked on his lap, I watched him through the gaps of my messy bangs.
He grabbed a lubricant from the drawer next to the bed, lightly squeezing the tube to pour the slimy substance inside onto his hand. I was startled by the coldness of it when he reached my bottom. I clenched onto him when his long and thick finger was gradually shoved into me, and what I felt was that familiar prickling pain.
Marvel rubbed around my wall expertly, in no time making it loose and slippery as if nature concurred with his lead. I tugged backward, nearly screaming when he inserted another finger. The lewd, squelching noise down there was created by the excessive amount of lubricant he used, making me whimper along the way. He guided me on how to do it, just like the first time he did.
