Staring ahead at the pumpkin placed in front of you, your brows furrowed as your mind searched for an appropriate design to carve into it, your face expressing your confliction as you continued to stare, wiping your hands down on the cloth after having just finished gutting the orange object. Your fingers deftly picked up the pencil to sketch onto the rough and uneven surface but nothing creative came to mind, your eyes flickering over to your girlfriend, hoping to use her pumpkin as inspiration.
However, instead of looking at the spider she was carving into it, your eyes drifted to the woman instead, admiring Natasha as she focussed on the task at hand. You couldn't stop yourself from staring at her arms, the tank top she was wearing displaying her toned arms for you to drool over, the way her muscles flexed slightly as she dug the knife into the flesh of the pumpkin. It was hard for you to comprehend how doing such a simple and mundane task could have such warmth flowing through you, your pupils dilating slightly as you continued to tentatively watch her, your gaze drifting lower.
Your eyes intently watched her nimble fingers wrap deftly around the knife, the way one of her veins protrude slightly, sending another flood of arousal through you as she moved skilfully, grasping every ounce of your attention. You were simply in awe of her and her hands, the way they were so effortlessly efficient with whatever she was doing, how within a second she could go from being soft and gentle to powerful and dominant. It was mesmerising.
All you could think of was how her finger tips felt against your skin, the tender and delicate moments the two of you spent wrapped in lover's embraces, how her fingers would thread through your hair, trail along your arms, your bare back, how her thumb felt brushing against your cheek tenderly as you lost yourself in those captivating shades of green. You also adored the way they felt when her fingers would grip your chin, tilting your head up in a teasing manner, how her grip would be strong but soft, letting you know exactly who was in control as you peered up into her darkening green.
Then there were the more sinful and teasing touches she offered you, the way her fingers would wrap around your throat so dominantly or slide into your mouth for you to clean, wanting you to lick your come off her finger as she toyed around with your body. You loved the way her slender digits controlled you, how they knew exactly where to brush and when as she would kiss down your body, the sheer amount of pleasure they caused when they'd slide through your dripping cunt, easily sliding in and filling you up, or the delicious pain that'd spark through you when she spanked your ass black and blue, the strap on pounding into you without mercy.
Too busy focussing on her hands as she tilted the pumpkin slightly, the muscles in her arms flexing as she lifted the heavy object, you missed the way mirth sparkled in her eyes, her lips tugging up into a knowing smirk, practically feeling the ogling look you were giving her as your mouth parted momentarily, too busy lost in your inappropriate thoughts.
"How's your pumpkin going?" The Russian innocently asks, snapping you out of the image of her fingers buried deep inside you as she stole your breath away with her fervent lips, your confused gazed meeting her expectant one as she watches her words process in your mind slowly, the cogs turning. Instantly, your gaze flickers away from her, cheeks flushing a deep red as you stare at the orange surface, no pencil or carve marks engraved in as you still hadn't decided on anything, too distracted to think clearly.
"Um, not well," you confess, your mind searching for something less inappropriate to blurt out, "Can...Can I look at yours for inspiration?" With a timid expression, you watch as she raises her brow at you, smirk pulling up at her lips as she shakes her head playfully at your antics, letting her hands cup her pumpkin, effortlessly lifting it from the table, biceps flexing deliciously, and bringing it over to your side of the countertop, placing it next to yours, her shoulder brushing yours.
Your breath hitches at the feeling of her warm skin against yours, your gaze instantly flicking down to where her hand casually grips the edge of the countertop, her other hand nonchalantly twirling the blade between her fingers, her head tilted slightly as she watches your mouth part, words on the tip of your tongue but not quite falling.
"Is that all I can help you with?" She rasps out, chuckling lowly at the way your teeth gently bite your lower lip to stop your mouth moving without thinking, your eyes peering up at her with lust clearly growing in them. You blush when she meets your gaze, holding the lingering look as she watches the submission glisten in your eyes, the redhead smirking at your form, deciding to torment you even further as she knows exactly what you want her to help you with.
Effortlessly, she moves her body so that she's stood behind yours, her front flush against your back and making your breath hitch, the feeling of her breath tickling the shell of your ear having lewd thoughts circle your mind, her hands sliding down your arms, reaching your hands and guiding you towards the pumpkin, playing along with the idea of being focussed on the pumpkins.
"Let's just copy mine," she murmurs at the shell of your ear, letting her warm breath tickle your burning skin, your body lighting up at how close she was, the sensation of her toned body pinning yours against the marble countertop having arousal pooling between your thighs. You nod in response, unsure you could verbalise anything coherently as she gently places a knife in your hand, her larger hand wrapping around yours and guiding you to push it into the orange surface.
"That's it," she whispers out in a seductive voice, a shaky breath escaping you as she tilts your hand, angling the knife to slide through the pumpkin flesh, roughly carving the shape of a spider leg into it. "Right there Detka, you're doing so well," she teases and you can only groan in response, leaning further into her body as she presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling against your skin as she knows how flustered you were.
"Nat," you sigh out as she praises you once more, her words causing a throb between your thighs as you can think of many instances as to when she's said similar words in a similar tone, your head lolling back against her shoulder, lips trying to press against any part of her skin you could.
"Yes?" She hums out, still guiding your movements whilst her other hand caresses your waist, encouraging you to push back into her body, driving you mad with desire.
"Please," you plead, using your free hand to move to hers, gently grabbing her hand and encouraging her to move it to between your thighs, needing to feel her addictive touch, to feel her fingers push you over the edge over and over again.
Your tone simply makes her smirk grow more dominant, her movements prompting you to move your head, tilting it to look at her as she lowers her face, letting her lips ghost yours whilst her finger slips under the waistband of your joggers, snapping the elastic fabric back against your skin in a tantalising manner.
"How about we play a game, Detka?" She purrs against your lips, your brows furrowing in confusion, all of your attention solely on her as you wait for her to elaborate. "I'll give you what you want as long as you carry on carving your pumpkin," she whispers before pecking your lips innocently, causing you to want to chase them and crash your lips against hers passionately, to have her stealing your breath away, tongue lewdly sliding against yours. "If you stop, I stop."
"Fuck," you groan out, watching lustfully as amusement grows in her eyes, your gaze unable to decide what to stare at, the way her lips gradually lower to yours or her enchanting green glistening with desire, your conflicted state only further entertaining the redhead. You manage to nod in response to her words, sinking into her embrace when you feel her fingers slide under your waistband, tracing light circles against your warm skin.
"I need words," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek to tease you, your cheeks flushing at the tender action and the way it contrasted how her hands slid further down your pants, the pads of her fingers brushing your soaked panties.
"Yes," you sigh out, her smirk growing as her free hand encourages you to turn around, facing the pumpkin and handing you your knife back, a nervousness building inside you as you weren't sure you were going to handle her actions whilst trying to concentrate, part of you knowing that Natasha would stick to her words and stop as soon as you did.
"Good girl, now come on, I can't touch you till you start," she rasps out at the shell of your ear, purposely letting you hear every small sound that escaped her as she let her finger drag along the wet fabric, a small, subtle groan spilling from her lips at how wet you were already.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly slide the knife back into the pumpkin, trying your hardest to ignore the feeling of her hands caressing your body, lips peppering sinful kisses along your neck and jaw, your eyes trained on the orange object to help keep you on track, wanting to finish the carving as soon as you could to feel her push you over the edge, sending euphoria crashing through you.
However, your focus quickly faded at the feeling of cold metal pressing against your skin, your breath instantly hitching as she chuckles behind you, the knife teasingly pressed against the base of your neck, the Russian expertly placing it so there was little chance it would cut you, prioritising your safety over the scene as she gave into your desires of experimenting with a knife during intimate moments. A thrill immediately ran down your spine, your hands halting against the pumpkin as she slowly dragged the blade over your shirt, letting you feel the tip of it gently pressing against you, sending arousal pooling between your thighs.
"Keep going Detka," she reminds, tapping the blade against you before continuing, "And remember to use your safe words whenever you need to." You murmur a quick 'yes' in response to her, showing her that you understood her before reluctantly continuing to push your knife into the flesh, unable to take your mind off the feeling of one of her hands sliding your joggers down your legs, the other hand expertly guiding the blade the slip under the waistband of your panties, torturously playing around with you as she pulls against the fabric, seeming to decide if she wants to rip them off you with the knife.
You whine, subtly pushing your hips back at her tantalising touch, your body needing her to touch you where you desperately needed her, her mouth peppering your neck in hot, open mouthed kisses not helping you concentrate as you angle your knife to slice down into the pumpkin, extending one of the spider legs. Just as your about to push it down, you hear a tear as she effortlessly uses the knife to slice the fabric of your panties, the lace falling to the floor, a gasp leaving you as the cold air of the room meets your core, the sensation of the cool metal dragging against your thighs also making your breath hitch, the contrast in temperature further arousing you and heightening your senses.
"Please Nat," you beg when you feel her hand gradually get closer to your core, the hand holding the knife gently tapping the flat surface of the knife against your core, your hips bucking causing her to move it away, smirking at your reaction.
At your tone of voice, your girlfriend seems to give in, placing the knife down before letting her fingers slide through your dripping core, your wet intimacy making her groan against your skin as her fingers slowly circle your clit, keeping up her teasing actions as you whine impatiently. She continues her slow and deliberate pace, encouraging you to grind against her hand as you slowly work on carving a second spider leg, your breathing laboured at the gradual build of pleasure at the pit of your stomach, a desperation and neediness growing in you as she simply toys around with you, finding new ways on how to make you snap.
When you least expect it, she effortlessly slides one of her fingers into you, a wanton moan escaping you as you savour the feeling of her finger thrusting in and out of you at a torturous pace, your hand slowly coming to a still as your mind focuses on the pleasure building within you, hips rocking against her hand. Noticing you stopping, Natasha slides her finger out of you, a whine immediately spilling from your lips before you realise you need to continue, hands instantly moving to carve the pumpkin, her smirk signalling her amusement as she chuckles near the shell of your ear, further teasing you.
"Good girl," she praises sinfully, letting her teeth gently nibble on your earlobe, sighing lowly to add to the arousal pooling between your thighs before sliding two fingers into you, stretching you out beautifully.
"Nat," you sigh out, your grip on your knife increasing at the sparks of pleasure that crashed through you when she would curl them both perfectly at your sweet spot, her pace slow but deliberate, giving your body almost everything it could want. "Please do that again-Shit, just like that," your words are interrupted by a groan, her teeth scraping along the side of your neck as she curls them both where she knows you love it, the way you were clenching desperately around her digits showing her how needy you were for her touch.
"Such an obedient girl," she husks out, wanting to distract you as she could feel you growing closer to your release as she gradually increases her pace, pumping her fingers into you at a steadily, continuing to curl them and have ecstasy clouding your thoughts, her palm brushing your clit causing your hips to buck against her. "Are you trying to be a good girl for me?" She purrs out, a broken moan escaping you as you feel your body being pushed towards your orgasm, her words not helping you stay composed as she knew praise was one of your biggest weaknesses.
"Shit, Yes," you manage to whisper out as you finish a fourth spider leg, the carving quality slowly getting worse as you struggle to properly decorate the pumpkin, simply wanting to finish it and have the orgasm she promised you.
"You want to make me proud, Detka?" Her Russian accent delicately wraps around her words, adding a seductive rasp to them as she pecks your cheek innocently, her fingers buried deep inside you contrasting the soft action.
"Yes," you wantonly sigh out, a desperation lacing your words as you feel the coil tightening at the pit of your stomach, pleasure wanting to flood through you and consume you entirely. "Please Nat, please can I come?" You plead with her, whining when you feel her lips pull up into a mischievous smirk against your skin, your hips rolling against her hand, groaning at the way her fingers continue to thrust in and out of you.
"But you haven't finished yet," she murmurs teasingly, revelling in the way your frustration is evident, one of your hands moving to grip the edge of the countertop whilst the other still slowly moves the knife, making sure she didn't have a reason to stop.
"You never said I had to finish," you argue back, your muscles tensing as you teeter on the edge of your release, the other woman reading the signs of your body as you clench around her fingers, your breathing growing more laboured as you tried to compose yourself, sparks of pleasure having you moaning softly.
"My game, my rules, you have to finish it before I let you come," she chuckles out, a sexually frustrated noise leaving you as you feel her delaying your release, her fingers coming to a gradual stop, letting you gently rock against her hand to keep your body enjoying the dull pleasure.
"That's not fair," you whimper out, stabbing into the pumpkin and roughly carving another leg, this one more looking like an odd line compared to the others but you did not care, your body craving more of her addictive touch. "Please just let me come, I've been good," you try, but it falls on deaf ears as she keeps her extremely slow pace up, slowly building the pleasure back in you as you haphazardly try to finish the stupid task.
"I know you've been good Detka but I want you to finish the pumpkin," she mutters, a hint of dominance seeping into her tone, wanting to see how far she could push your body and obedience as she slid her fingers back into you, kissing you softly on your temple as you moan at the action. "Come on, you're nearly there," she encourages, her free hand sliding down your arm and guiding your movements, motivating you to continue to get your reward.
Taking mercy on you, Natasha leads the last of the carving, holding your hand and helping you with the task at hand, her other hand still settled between your thighs, slowly pushing you back towards that familiar edge, fingers teasingly pumping in at a tantalising pace, lips continuing to pepper across your neck and face as you whine her name repeatedly. The pitiful noise simply further arouses her as you carve the sixth and seventh leg, so close to what you desperately needed, back arching away from her body slightly when her fingers hit a sweet spot, a broken noise being torn from you.
As soon as the last leg is done, you drop the knife to the table, pushing it away for safety before letting your hands grip the edge to keep you supported, your hips rolling unabashedly against her hand as you chase your deserved release, the redhead's mouth ghosting the shell of your ear once more, ready to give you what you want.
"My good girl," she purrs seductively, earning a whimper as you feel her increasing her pace, fingers mercilessly thrusting into you, curling beautifully to have your walls clenching around her, your knuckles bleeding white against the marble top as the room fills with the sound of her fingers sliding into you and your laboured breaths. "Go on Detka, make a mess all over my fingers," she whispers out, biting gently on your earlobe as a guttural noise escapes you, her words and the euphoria her fingers caused you easily sending you crashing into your release, an overwhelming amount of pleasure flooding through you.
"Fuck, Nat," you sinfully moan out, her name falling from your lips in almost a chant at the ecstasy consuming you, her fingers not stopping as you ride out your high, wanting to have you melting against her body once again, already smirking at the way your hips buck desperately, legs trembling slightly. "God- please don't stop," you plead, one of your hands shooting back behind you to grip onto her body as her fingers drive you to another orgasm, doubling the intensity of pleasure clouding your mind, nothing but the thought of her in your head as you submit to her touch, losing yourself in her.
Moving her arm to wrap around you waist, Natasha securely kept you upright as pleasure controlled your body, your hips rocking against her hand as your back arched off her front briefly, prolonging your euphoric high as you savoured the feeling of her fingers buried deep inside you, gradually slowing their pace as you eventually calm in her arms, leaning into her body as she welcomed you into a comforting embrace.
Her lips met your temple once again as she listened to every soft pant that left your lips as you tried to recover from your intense orgasms, going limp in her arms as you relished in the feeling of her strong and comfortable embrace, her soft and tender kisses as she praised you for doing so well for her, the words partly processing, your mind too focused on her warm skin to fully comprehend everything.
"I'm so proud of you Detka," she whispers soothingly as she turns you around so she can face you, her hand cupping your cheek affectionately as you peer up at her a little tiredly, watching with interest as she raises her other hand to her lips, sliding her fingers covered in your cum into her mouth and cleaning them off, smirking around them at your subtle groan.
"You did so well, the pumpkin is..." She starts off, both of your gazes flickering over to the orange object as you snake your arms around her waist, letting your head rest against her shoulder as you chuckle at the sight of your work, hiding your laughter against her warm skin, your girlfriend's heart melting at the way she can feel you smiling against her.
"Horrific and horrifying," you mutter to finish her sentence, amazed at how awful it looked, unbothered by your failure as the reward was worth messing it up for, your cheeks heating up a little at what had just occurred, Natasha loving it when you suddenly became a little shy, finding it adorable.
"I mean, it is meant to scare people," she teases, earning another laugh from you as you playfully tickle her side, knowing it had little effect on her whilst she leans her head against yours, basking in the tender moment.
"We are not putting that outside for people to see," you mumble, not wanting to ruin the aesthetic of your porch with this monstrosity, unaware of how Natasha smirked mischievously against your hair, letting her fingers run up and down your back, encouraging you to further relax against her.
"Ok Detka, we'll just put mine out," she whispers, knowing exactly where she was going to hide it in the front garden for all the trick or treaters to see without you even releasing it was there.