AN: This is utter shameless smut and if you're a trashy dumpster like me than welcome to my lair. I've never written Marvel, Frank, Karen, or Kastle. Just had a conversation with a friend that prompted this ridiculousness and smutty-smut ensued that I figured I may as well share. If it seems OOC, welp...this isn't my main fandom and sometimes you gotta bend a little to make dumpster-worthy things happen.
He always walked her home. For a dead man, Frank got around quite well, and escorting Karen back to her apartment was a given. Each time she met him it was a risk and this time wasn't different. Instead, the difference was how Frank's boots swayed a little on the stairs up to her place, how his cheeks felt flushed and his limbs loose.
You have pussy eating lips.
If he hadn't watched Karen giggle as she confessed the drunk secret in the dark corner of a bar, he wouldn't have believed it. They'd never had drinks before, Frank liked staying in control, coffee was more up his alley, even at midnight. But this time she'd ordered a bottle, somehow he had too, and now they were standing by her door and all he could think about was the sentence that had rolled off her tongue and the blush of her cheeks afterwards.
"Is this goodnight?" Karen asked, stopping for a second.
He rarely went inside. But it never stopped her from hesitating, her goodnight was always a question.
Frank felt his jaw twitch, something else too, her words still playing on a loop in his brain. If alcohol was rare, feeling something other than rage never happened. Until now, now that his cock was throbbing in his jeans, pressed too tightly against his thigh. Women didn't think about lips pressed against a pussy unless it was their own pussy and in Karen's case it was his lips doing the pressing. His arousal felt just as unforgiving as his wrath and for once, Frank greeted a distraction from bloodshed.
"Frank?" Karen asked again, a bit unsteady in her heels.
He'd leave those on, Frank decided.
"Are you coming in?"
"Yes," he answered, hearing the demanding tone in his voice.
With Karen he'd never tried to hide his rough edges but they'd also always softened in her presence, for the most part. It'd been yes ma'am this, please that. But when she unlocked her door and led him inside, Frank wasn't in the mood for please. Judging by her nervous hands, Karen wasn't either. She knew what he'd came inside for, how could she not when it'd been her words that had sent it all into motion?
"You want a drink?"
"No."
His jaw did it again, another twitch and Frank knew that tic. Nothing would stand in his way - not Matt Murdock, not the NYPD or in this case, not even Karen's tight little pencil skirt. This was a nice change of pace actually, and when Frank moved towards her he couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't given in to this type of distraction before. A pussy tasted a hell of a lot better than blood spatter.
"Do you want-"
This time he cut her off before she could finish. Frank didn't want a drink, a glass of water, a sandwich, he didn't even wanna take a seat.
His hands gripped her waist with the force he usually saved for an RPG. Karen's heels stumbled as he guided her backwards towards the couch but Frank's heavy footfalls were as steady as ever. He'd always been a good soldier and having a goal in mind made his boots move with confidence, alcohol be damned. By the time he'd pushed her thin frame on the cushions and dropped to his knees like an obedient dog in front of her, Karen had already let out a moan.
Frank wasn't sure what he'd expected, for her to say no? For her to cower from a harsh hand or a rough push? She'd told him forever ago it wasn't her first rodeo and unlike that idiot that called himself The Devil, Frank listened.
"Frank?"
Finally he met her eyes, though it was hard to stare at anything other than the two legs spreading in front of him, revealing a slit of black fabric.
"Ma'am?" He asked, with a sarcastic smirk, his fingertips starting to tap as he waited to devour his meal.
Karen didn't reply with words. She held his gaze instead, finally giving a small nod of her head - a quiet okay.
That was all it took. With her permission, he hands went straight to her thighs and pushed the fabric of her skirt up as far it would go, revealing the panties underneath. Frank took no time pulling them down, he didn't even bother when the tiny garment caught around her ankle. He didn't want her ankles. The fuck-me heels would stay, but he didn't give a shit about the rest.
It was his turn to moan, this time in anticipation as his hard grip guided her tiny ass to the edge of the cushion, his large hands pushing her slim thighs open until she was spread eagle in front of him.
Frank had forgotten how long it'd been since he'd had a pussy in his face, he'd also forgotten the man he used to be - a man whose hands weren't covered in blood and didn't refer to a woman's intimate parts as a cunt. But there she was, completely exposed, a tempting little cunt if he'd ever seen one. Karen was silky smooth, like she'd been waiting on this all along, and it left nothing to his imagination. Frank could see every glisten of moisture beginning to coat her folds in earnest, he even got a whiff of her tangy arousal.
Truthfully, Frank wanted to tear her apart, to stroke her as violently as he did everything. If he'd had it his way, he would've buried his face into that perfect view, pop her swollen bud into his mouth and have Karen coming so fast she'd see stars. But his cock was still swollen and painful and he wanted her to feel that pain too, pain that didn't come with a quick release.
Allowing himself one last look at her opened before him, it was with gentle hands that he grabbed her knees, planting a kiss on her thigh. Immediately, Karen awarded him with a little whimper, her fingers getting lost in his hair. Slowing down wasn't in his nature anymore. Frank got everything done as cleanly, and quickly, as possible and it took more restraint than he'd shown in a long time to make a make trail down her exposed flesh with easy, gentle pecks.
The lady wanted her pussy eaten and instead of turning her into a snack, he'd make it a three course meal. He hadn't had a good dinner in a long time anyway.
Frank pressed his lips gently down her thigh, from her knee to her center, stopping the moment he got to the crease before he cunt. Karen's hips rose a little, forcing him to tighten the grip on her knees to hold her still, all the while completely skipping over her sticky lips and repeating the process down the other thigh. Soft kisses, with patience that amazed Frank. The sweet scent alone almost killed him. His cock was burning for release, his nuts were swollen and tight and every time his face passed over her cunt, he growled right along with Karen's whimpers.
With each journey, he let his mouth get a little closer to her slit, but never diving in, despite Karen's frantic fingers on his face begging him to. His kisses got harder, adding more pressure, giving her a taste of what was to come but not until Frank felt her nails digging into his scalp did he decide enough was enough. His mouth had started to water each time he passed her over and he needed to taste her just as badly as Karen needed to be tasted.
"What do you say?" Frank asked, finally pulling away just in time to watch Karen twist in the agony brought on by his absence.
Her lips trembled. Karen had a habit of stuttering, sometimes taking her forever to get the words she needed out. Having Frank's face between her legs only made it worse.
"I...I..." she mumbled, too distracted by her urges to get anything out, much less coherent words.
"No ma'am," Frank responded.
His hands were still gripping her knees and he knew she didn't expect it when his face came down and licked right over his slit, fast and harsh, his tongue refusing to part her lips or hit that swollen bud.
"You'll use your words."
"Frank...I"
Maybe if he'd been about to shove his cock in her cunt instead of his face, he would've been more forgiving. His dick hadn't been so hard in what felt like forever, he'd completely forgotten how very painful arousal could be when there was no relief. Perhaps that was the reason he finally let her off at the hook at her next plea, maybe he was capable of pity after all.
"Frank, please."
He smiled, a genuine one. How could he not with her milky thighs stretched before him, knowing he was finally going to give her what she wanted.
"Yes, ma'am," Frank answered, meeting her eyes just as he licked his lips.
If she smelled good, she tasted divine. Once again, Frank's patience was out in full force, finally dipping his face above her slit and giving Karen one long, wet lick with his tongue flat and soft. Her hands once again buried themselves in his hair and he hadn't even spread her lips yet. He did it again, just as easy, spreading her juices as he went. She attempted to force him where she needed him, Frank felt her hips bucking against his face, and just because he could, he moved his hands from her knees to the sweaty flesh of her thighs and pinned Karen down, refusing to let her even buck against him.
The harsh move only made her whimper louder, or maybe that was because he finally slid his tongue between her swollen, sticky, lips and stroked her from bottom to top.
That time he felt her legs quiver and her breathing almost stop.
Again, he did it, paying her clit a little more attention. Frank had never felt an entire woman's body shudder quite like Karen's did when the tip of his tongue came to give the sensitive nub a few fast swipes and he knew if his cock had been inside of her in that moment he would've blown his load then and there. Hell, he still felt like he was about blow his load. But since he wasn't balls deep finally emptying himself, the least he could do was dose her flames.
There'd be bruises, he didn't doubt it. His fingers were grabbing her tight, not allowing her to budge when his lips finally closed over her clit and sucked, resulting in Karen frantically twisting and writing from the overload. But he doubted the painful marks he left on her would matter. Instead, it'd be the memory of warm, wet mouth sucking and flicking, moaning against her flesh like he was the one reaching the brink.
It took every bit of strength he had to hold her still as her orgasm approached, especially with his face still buried in her cunt. Frank wasn't sure which of them were making the most noise, just that when Karen finally came it was just as wet as he'd imagined it would be, just as sloppy, her walls no doubt contracting and squeezing harder than they ever had before. He stayed in place like the well disciplined man he was, not changing a single stroke until she road it out, never once giving her tender spot any relief from the pleasure he was inflicting.
There'd be no thighs closing around his head to help ease the overwhelming thrill, just his dick burning hot and heavy when Karen finally moaned his name one last time as she started to come down from the high.
Frank's lips were saturated in her juices when he finally let her go, the very same one she'd proclaimed as pussy-eating-lips. If there were any doubts he hadn't lived up to her statement, it was squashed when he stood up to relieve his aching knees, perhaps something else that was aching also, but Karen stayed put - a slack and sweaty mess from the orgasm that had just ripped through her.
He was about to dismiss himself, it was what he should've done.
Sneaking through the streets of New York was something he was even better at than eating Karen Page's pussy. Frank just wasn't so sure how quick on his feet he'd be with a rock hard cock digging into his thigh, or how clear his mind could be when it was still full of her scent.
And it was in that moment of hesitance that he got himself in trouble. Frank never hesitated. He knew all too well what happened in those few extra seconds of time, what could happen. Like say a woman finally rousing from her exhaustion, just enough to reach up for his belt buckle and yanking it free before Frank could put a stop to it. Not that he would've anyway. For once, Karen's hands weren't shaking. Instead they eased him from his boxers with swift confidence, giving Frank's dick a much needed stroke.
One stroke, and he was done. Discipline was great until duty called.
Did she yank him closer or he did push Karen back yet again? Frank wasn't sure and he wasn't sure he cared either. All that mattered was that after a few fumbling hands and groans, Karen was straddling his waist on her creaky old couch, the skirt still bunched around her waist. It couldn't have been comfortable and God knew he'd feel more free if he wasn't still fully clothed other than the dick Karen was about to lower herself onto, but it was impossible to concern himself with such small issues.
The moment they locked eyes Frank felt his cock throb, begging for Karen to lower herself onto him. Unlike him, Karen wasn't delaying anything. As soon as her knees were situated on his sides and her arms were locked around his neck, Frank felt her dripping pussy meet the head of his dick, a slick greeting that had him growling in her ear. He gripped her ass just as hard as he'd held her thighs and knew he'd leave bruises there too. His fingerprints would be all over Karen and the feeling of her tight walls would imprint on him forever. If by some miracle he lived to be a hundred Frank knew he'd never find anything wetter thank Karen.
It was exactly what his cock had needed and he was positive he wouldn't last long. It'd been too long since he'd gotten off at all, much less unloaded inside a woman. Karen hadn't even rocked her hips yet and already Frank felt his balls tensing and his dick pulsing. She was letting him get used to this - this pleasure. Frank had thought pleasure was lost to him, that was how he excused what he did next - landing a harsh blow to Karen's ass cheek, forcing her into motion.
With a slow grind, her walls adjusted to the thickness of his cock until he was balls deep and Frank felt every bit of arousal in his body settle low in his gut, his hips rocking to the same tune as hers. It wasn't hard enough, it wasn't fast enough and even though Karen was doing a hell of a job of making Frank tense and moan, he needed more. Moving his hands to her hips, he held her still yet again, forcing her still, so he could force himself into her as harshly as he needed. She was still sensitive, her body ripe for the taking and it took no time at all for Frank to feel her walls start to pulse and shutter again, her cries echoing off the walls.
They were both lost in the moment, sweaty foreheads pressed together, Karen whimpering with a trembling lip every time Frank thrusted into her.
After a few more savage blows, Frank finally delivered the fatal one that sent them both over the edge. Karen's soaked, swollen walls squeezed him tight and Frank was done. His ass was off the couch when his nuts contracted and his cock jerked, filling her with his seed, spurt after spurt, Karen rutting against him as her second orgasm pulled him in deeper.
It was a humid, musky mess they'd created and when Frank finally caught his breath Karen's forehead was still against his, her lips aligned with his own.
He hadn't kissed her - not yet.
That felt like something entirely different, something that had nothing to do with a hard fuck to unload or a silly alcohol fueled confession whispered in a bar. He was still inside her when Frank grabbed Karen's chin, tilting her lips, until finally he tasted them too. It was the exact opposite of how he'd just fucked her - tender and patient, his tongue slipping into her mouth so smoothly that before Karen could gear up for another round, Frank had already pulled away, but not before landing one last peck on her lips.
"Will you stay?" she asked.
It was a whisper and a question she'd never asked him. It was a question he never would've answered even if it had been a long time coming.
Her hands were on his face, exploring his stubble when Frank finally nodded.
"Yeah. I'll stay."
He watched the smile grow on her face when she nodded back, finally removing herself from his lap and pulling the skirt back down over her hips. Frank couldn't help but notice that the heels were still on, at least until Karen kicked them off on her way to the bedroom. It was his turn to put himself back together, to peel himself off the couch and follow. He supposed now that they'd slept together, there was no point in denying himself the pleasure of sleeping with her, real sleep. He hadn't done that in a long time either.