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Lobco always had disliked that she is indeed, forgettable
That her nervousness always managed to get the better of her—in term of both personal, and social life: stopping her from most thing she has always wanted to do.
Although: long term situation doesn't have to stay that way for indefinite amount of time—as the pitch black witch swooped in.
Chlomaki was someone opposite of her: although her free spirited nature does sometimes get in the way—it wasn't always like she forgets about Lobco, at least not all the time.
That perhaps has an advantage of it's own, as Chlomaki was benevolent enough to let Lobco experience with her inner desire:
"For someone that is unsure, you are sure. To be squelching wet." The carefree voice reached the red haired girl's ear, ringing before she could even proces the scene that is happening.
Her eyes trailed to the girl ahead of her: the sultry black hair of her clinging to her sweat damp forehead—whilst the slightest hue of red painted across her cheeks:
Albeit, it wasn't as red as Lobco's
Her slick arousal ran down her thighs—as Chlomaki's fingers then picked it up, bringing the liquid to her lips, tasting the form of Lobco's depravity.
And seeing that: ignited a fire inside Lobco's stomach pit, as she can't help but churn and clench around nothing.
"Do.. you really n—need to do that?" Lobco shivered, before Chlomaki then punctuated her actions by directly swiping her fingers on Lobco's clit, which resulted in her yelping in surprise: "I.. it's just an one t..time thing!"
The lobster familiar squelched, insisting as her blush deepened into a dark hue—with her hands clenching and grasping firmly on the bedsheet beneath her: the witch only hummed in delight—fingers pressed firmly on Lobco's entrance.
The pitch black witch paid no mind to it: as she punctuated her fingers inside—stretching Lobco earnestly,
"You can tell that to yourself aaalll day." She hummed softly—pumping her fingers still, delving them into the inner heat of Lobco's pussy. "I know you'll crawl right back."
Lobco wanted nothing else than to prove that's not true—to reply that it was nothing but mere delusion of the witch: and yet, the thought of always having her needs fulfilled was tempting.
The thought of it was enough for her to ache closer: to let the whimpers escape her flailing lips.
To that: Chlomaki chuckled, "Always known you're weak to this, to me."
Lobco knew it's true, she knew it's indeed the fact:
And so, what was the use of her denying it?
Her inside already pulsed desperately around the witch's finger anyway—what was there for her to lose? Her dignity was long scattered ever since she made the request—she truly, had nothing else holding her back,
Other than herself, of course.
Hesitantly, as Chlomaki sensed the nervousness—the doubting look on Lobco's face, she proceeded to lean closer: just enough for her breath to heave, for her breath to left the strands of Lobco's hair standing up.
"Be a good familiar and give in, yeah?" She huffed, before pulling Lobco's lips on hers—devouring the familiar's soft lips with her own:
It was as if Lobco's last thread of self restrain was crushed to nothing but fleeting past: as her eyes widened, she too—no longer could resist the temptation.
Chlomaki's fingers never went still—as she had scooted closer, the witch had moved her free hand to Lobco's waist, pulling her closer before her folds finally met the witch's.
Lobco shuddered like never before: she panted into the kiss as her face flushed red—drool had accumulated on the edge of her lips, although—the witch seem to never paid a mind on it, Chlomaki's eyes instead watched the way their most intimate part rubbed—and the way her fingers still managed to delve furthermore to Lobco's untouched depth.
As Lobco's eyes rolled back, all whilst the grip on the sheet progressively got stronger: a leverage over her sanity.
"Lady Chlomaki—" Lobco rasped desperately: Chlomaki would later then shushed the red haired girl—as she pressed her pelvis firmly against hers.
The friction of their wet, slick skin sending jolts of electricity through both of them—Chlomaki then began to grind her hips in a slow, punishing rhythm, using the weight and power of her thighs to force their vulvas together in a tight—squelching embrace: still with the carefree smile on her face.
The kiss Chlomaki pulled away from was less of a romantic gesture: it was a claiming one—one that meant to show how much Lobco has been missing out.
Chlomaki began to pump her fingers in a fast, punishing tempo, matching the frantic pace of her pelvic grinding: pinching the sweet spot reserved right in the depth of the other girl—that is now gasping for breath, with barely to none shred of hesitancy left.
With Chlomaki's hand gripping ever so tightly on her hips: it wasn't like Lobco could do something against it—and vaguely, she wanted it to stay that way: to preserve the moment without shred of rejection from her.
With how badly her inside pulsed; how much she clenched around the intrusion—it was no surprise that her arousal seems to squelch with every single rub that Chlomaki performed: nor was it any surprise that her heat churned—signalling the near of her release.
And noticing that: Chlomaki pressed her thumb on Lobco's clitoris—moving the hand that was previously on the lobster's waist to her soft mounds that was barely hiding underneath her pink—lacey, bra.
The witch had made it her mission to make Lobco even more of a gasping mess—or at least, that what Lobco thought: as the pitch black witch groped her chest, adding to her already fluctuating need to cum—it was no surprise that by the next moment, Lobco's body has seized, trembling hard.
"There you go.. what a good familiar." Chlomaki cooed as Lobco's arousal dripped to the sheet beneath: as she once again—like in the beginning, brought it with her finger to her lips, before she moaned by the sheer taste.
"Perhaps the next time, you'll be even better."
Safe to say, Lobco doesn't have the energy to think about the next time now.