AN: Thank you to the people who commented on my work.
Thanks for following me.
Also, I don't like Ezreal or the Star-Guardian ideas. I like my childhood of Sailor Moon and Madoka Magica.
This one's for that guy who asked for the Fiora. Luckily, I do like Fiora as a character, though, I am shit with her.
The League of Legends has served Runeterra well and long. Settling diplomatic disputes, stopping a global war, and even producing some of the best creations… like hextech ice-cream makers. The League is still used for many reasons, but due to the champions having break days and weekends, they find their own hobbies outside of fighting in magical-time-altered-folds-in-spaces. Many champions created their own business, like Tahm Kench, or aimed to perfect a certain craft like Pantheon, a wonderful baker.
For nobles in Demacia, dancing is something that is a requirement. For a nobleman to be unable to ask a lady to dance is pure embarrassment! So when it comes for a man to learn how to dance, where does he go? For most noblemen and noblewomen, the best teacher in Demacia would be the one and only, Fiora Laurent.
Fiora Laurent, a legend in Demacia and a master of fencing. Her harsh attitude and cold demeanor is one to not belittle, lest you feel her blade giving you a bruise in a split second. As Demacia had ceased to wage war with Noxus, she was left without a job. No diplomacies, no need to teach swordplay to soldiers, and no need to fight intensely in the political matches. For a time, Fiora was left with an apathetic and boring life. Fencing against weak opponents and protecting an honour that seemed as empty as her heart. It was something she pondered, the emptiness. Every night, she would lay in her bed, truly feeling cold and lonely. No matter the wealth, status, and servants, it was all seemingly empty compared to the blank spot on her extravagant bed.
To make up for the apathy, she took on the word of her head-butler, Walter, and decided to open a dancing school. She taught everything from Rumba to B-Boy dancing, albeit the nobles always prefered the more classy dances like waltzes, tangos, and rumba. Nonetheless, she forgot her emptiness throughout the days of teaching. It was a unique sensation, seeing hundreds of students, not opponents. They all seem dazzled by her form and teaching, everyone hoping to be as good. Of course, like all teachers, she developed a favorite student.
The life of a young noble in Demacia is very much lackluster up till his adulthood. Youth is filled with studies of manners, politics, and whatever the family's business was. For Leben De Lapith, his family's business was the production of clothing. Everything from simple jeans to the most extravagant dresses, his company hired designers of renowned titles and gave them freedom to design clothes. Naturally, as a young man of twenties, he needed to find a wife. Yet, his life had just begun! What would life be without exploring?
Leben sighed as he put on the tight dancing clothes, clothes that his company produced. He stepped out of the dressing room and immediately got to stretching. Near the walls and out of the ways were musicians. Many of them were paid to be ready in an hour, but Lady Laurent's demands of being early were to never be dismissed. Lady Laurent… What a beauty, not like a man like me is worth anything. Leben looked at the mirror walls, recognizing his own self. He wasn't built like the rugged Garen or like the magnificent Jarvan, but he was built quite well. His lean figure showed off powerful shoulder and back muscles, his arm muscles bulging against the tight fabric. Leben's legs were long like a model's, but their muscle deterred him from ever considering modeling. The Demacian's face was very much like an old Demacian clan that called themselves, Gehrmans. His dark brown eyes were made darker by his near-white blonde hair and his high cheek bones. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail, the white tail opposite of the black skin-like outfit. The uniform was tight against his crotch, but he had gotten used to it. The lower parts were made to be light with what looked like a unisex skirt to cover the crotch, but the tightness did get uncomfortable here and there.
"Leben!" Leben turned to face piercing blue eyes. "Start the tempo practice, bete!" Her old-Demacian only accented her orders, which Leben acknowledged with a nod.
"Yes ma'am." As the noble lead his classmates to the practice railings, everyone seemed to follow his moves. Bend a knee here, spin, grab your partner and pull her over, make sure their rear doesn't brush the bar. Leben felt a sense of distaste as his partner was a Demacian noblewoman who had been trying to marry him. She was pretty yes, but she was said to have a heart of black poison. It didn't help that her record of being associated with controversies was quite frequent. Nonetheless, Leben is a noble, and as a noble, his work must be noble.
Fiora watched as her student practiced with the Demacian girl. Her hair was blonde, but looked more natural to Leben's blinding hair. The champion stretched on her own above the students on the second floor. Squats, leg stretches, elbow pulls, and neck turns, she did it all, but the sense of loneliness returned. Curiously, she looked at Leben again and found him effectively leading the class to their next set of tempo practice. The feeling of emptiness seemed to fill with a liquid-like warmth and pinkness of cheeks.
"Markus and Lanet, show me your progress!" Fiora demanded, standing next to Leben who stood a few inches taller. Fiora herself was dressed in a black outfit like everyone else, but her back was exposed and her sleeves were cut short. A longer skirt was added, but the look maintained a sense of practice instead of trying to be a dress. Markus and Lanet began their dance, having trained for two years together. A waltz, while romantic, was very boring. The three-beat tempo of the music being played by the waltz crew was loud, but it was enough to keep Fiora focused despite her boredom. One-two-three, two-two-three, the two students slid across the dance floor, smoothly turning calmly and confidently. Yet, their confidence wasn't approved by their serious face. Within three minutes, the duo finished their performance, looking at their teacher for approval.
"Markus, you have to lead her. Don't be afraid to pull or push her." Fiora's face was a mix of disappointed and bored. "And Lanet, what in ze hell is wrong with you. Don't try to break the tempo just because you missed a step!" Fiora sighed and waved her hand to send the students away. The next set was much more interesting. Creighton and Misha, a tango duo. The Grand Duelist's face creeped into a smile as she awaited what these two would do. The tango crew prepped their instruments, waiting for their maestro's signal. As the music started slow and sweet, the tango was like the music. Creighton's stocky build worked well with Misha's shorter stature and he was able to lead her confidently in smooth slides-and-stops. However, the music picked up with dramatic low notes and a faster tempo. Creighton led Misha straight, flicking their heads side to side at the sixteenth notes, their feet matching as Creighton pulled Misha. The duo adapted to the music returning to sweetness, their steps matching, but having playful little steps. The repeated dramatic tones forced the duo into a much more active dance, the two of them moving across the room, and Misha sliding her leg onto Creighton's as he lowered himself, the leg Misha held onto straight and his bent leg forward.
Silence as Fiora stared at Misha and Creighton, her eyes seeming to bore into them.
"Hmph, not bad. But not good enough. Misha, don't wait for Creighton's signal. You need to know how to move on your own to make ze dance seem like a conflict. Where is ze passion in your step? The zeal in your eyes?" Misha and Creighton nodded and were sent away with a wave.
"All of you, this is how you tango!" Fiora said and looked at Leben. The younger man inhaled and exhaled, feeling all eyes on him. The jealousy, the hate, and the attention made his heart beat faster, but he needed that feeling. It would be what sailed him across the sea of notes called, tango.
"Arstor!" The old maestro looked up, his gray hair slicked back and his baton in his left hand. "Libertango, sil te plait, mon amie." Arstor nodded, smirking. He looked at Leben and chuckled in his head. The kid was damn lucky.
Fiora and Leben began at opposite ends, maintaining eye contact. The piece opened with an accordion, its suave voice slow and seemingly lazy. Fiora and Leben's steps matched this, the two meeting. Their dance began with a sensual bow, Fiora leaning back in Leben's arms, Leben going down Fiora's chest and to her stomach. He inhaled her scent, finding her natural odor erotic. They separated as the sound of violins being plucked began the main beat, Fiora dramatically being pulled up, only to push Leben away. Fiora, back turned, sauntered away, Leben following in step. The two stopped as the bassoon repeated the beat that the violas were playing, meeting each other with competitive stares. Fiora led, pushing Leben back with her steps, splaying her arms as if she was furious. Leben stops as the accordion rises into its leading tone, grabbing Fiora's arm and hip and spinning her so that she was being held by Leben. She wouldn't have any of it and rose up before dragging her foot up against Leben's thigh, showing off her own thigh. Leben grabbed Fiora's thigh, feeling the muscles and her beautiful leg covered in fabric. He leaned back on one leg, with the other leg seemingly holding Fiora in a slant.
The two finished their dance as if imitating a break up, facing away from each other, but in each other's arms. Everyone in the room clapped, amazed by Leben's strength and dexterity as he somehow kept up with Fiora's skills. The musicians were amazed as well, but their exhaustion from playing tangos, waltzes, and numerous pieces were showing in their sweaty faces. As the clock on the wall read three of noon, the mass of black and heads of sweat moved into respective locker rooms to change. As Leben helped a musician put a chair in onto a stack, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The maestro who conducted the tango, Arstor, pulled him away, and put an arm around him.
"Mi chico, tu estas un hombre muy afortunado." Leben's face contorted into confusion as Arstor spoke in a dialect similar to old Demacian, but with a hint of something different. The maestro of gray hair chuckled before slapping Leben on the back and walking to his crew. He did some hand motions and soon, the dance room was empty. Railings were cleared, leaving the floor empty and the sweat had been cleaned off by the men.
Leben looked around for his teacher and found that she was nowhere to be seen. Deciding that she had gone to do something beyond his crafts, he walked to the locker room.
"Leben!" Fiora's voice turned the young man's head to see that the League champion was standing at a opened door.
"Yes ma'am?"
"Come with me." Fiora began walking away, leaving Leben to jog to her. As he entered the room, he was astounded by how furbished it was. Extra uniforms for Fiora were left clean and hung, a fridge was next to a dark wood desk, and towels were placed near another door.
"Lady Laurent-"
"Hmph, I'm not so old to be cold 'Lady Laurent', Monsieur Leben." Her voice was equivalent to that of a sharp knife being pointed at him, her distaste clear as a crystal glass. Leben gulped.
"Miss Fiora, why have you brought me into your office?" Fiora opened her fridge and bended over. The sight of her tight, delighting, heart-shaped rear made Leben's heart jump and his loins tingle. As he watched it move side to side in tiny motions, he felt his penis rubbing against the fabric of his tight pants. Damnit, I'm a noble! I shouldn't be so brusque! Leben turned away, pretending to study the wood-work of the walls. The sound of the fridge closing brought his eyes back to Fiora and he saw that she had retrieved two cold bottles of water.
"First of all, mon etudiant mignon, you will address me as, Fiora." Leben nodded and muttered a "ma'am". "Secondly, why so serious?" Fiora jabbed the cold bottle against Leben's chest, forcing the student to grab onto the bottle. Leben looked at Fiora and saw that she had sat on her desk. She opened her bottle and drank, tipping the thing so that it flowed down her throat and hydrated her. Leben watched as Fiora's chest moved with each gulp, her breasts bouncing slightly, and her throat expanding and contracting minutely with each swallow. Leben opened his bottle and drank quickly, trying to remove his eyes from the fencer.
"Leben, the reason I brought you here alone was to tell you that I am going to be inviting you to my manor tonight. I expect you to be there and to keep this to yourself." Fiora closed the distance in half a second with her hand holding Leben's terrified face. "Et if you tell anyone, I will ensure that you never walk again." With that, Fiora giggled and waved him away, sauntering to the door next to the towels.
Leben was speechless. His brain was taking its time to figure out what to do next. He was just invited for dinner with Fiora. Fiora Laurent, the Grand Duelist who disabled her own father for shaming the family name. The woman who rode through his dreams, creating raging mountains. The beauty that stole his mind from anything else. She was harsh and had a major bitch attitude, but she made it all worth it. Fiora Lauren, the Grand Duelist, was the arts personified.
Leben, realizing that Fiora was waiting for him to leave, left quickly. He jogged to the lockers and quickly went into a stall. As he stripped, he was slowly taking in the information. Dinner with Fiora. Dinner with Fiora. Dinner with Fiora. Propose to Fiora. Dinner with Fi- What in the fuck? Propose? Him? Would she accept? Is he good enough? Leben bit his lip and punched the stall door, denting the metal and scratching his knuckles.
"Fuck!" Leben left the stall, his phallus swinging with his stride. He put on his company's clothes, ignoring his classmates giving him odd glances. No matter what happens, he would make sure that his chance with the Grand Duelist was not wasted…
Leben had taken a ride from his chauffeur, who asked the young noble what was wrong. Leben mumbled something and the chauffeur just brought his employer to the De Lapith manor. The manor was designed very simply with clean white stone and marble pillars and arches, all with extravagant etchings and carvings. In Leben's opinion, it was all very droll and old. Sure, fashion was classy back then, but the architecture wasn't really something he liked. Then again, the manor is pretty old. The Demacian shook his head and faced the mirror before him. His white hair was tied back with an elegant navy tie. He wore a white, four-button, dress coat with navy and dark gold accents going along the shoulders and creating straight-lined arcing patterns on his back. The dress shirt he had on was a deep purple, making sure not to contrast too harshly with the white. His trousers were white as well and his shoes were made with black leather and gold tapered ends. The toe and heel had gold and brass metal, but made sure not to pinch.
"Alright, this should do." As he left his room, only two butlers and a maid were waiting for him. He had sent all the other servants home, keeping his best servants with him. This was his only chance, he wanted it to be perfect. The white halls leading to the dining room made his heart relax with the lack of exciting colors. He could do this, he would do this, he wanted to do this. With a firm smile and a deep breath, he went to inform the remaining staff to prep a car and to fetch his gift. Hopefully, she would take a liking to it.
Fiora looked at the grandfather clock placed in her bedroom, ten minutes to seven. She bit her lip as she looked over herself in the mirror. The cream-colored silk Demacian dress went to her knees, showing off her long limbs. It was sleeveless and had a deep cleavage, letting her breasts be shown off. The perky and full breasts that she often lamented during matches were what she hoped would make the dress work. If not, her hips and thin waist made her body more than enough. She did a turn, examining her rear and finding it to be firm and soft. The Grand Duelist mentally slapped herself for thinking of seducing her student. Sure, he was cute and could keep up with her at dancing, but he was… a student. She couldn't help, but find the situation erotically incorrect. Desiring the love of a student and he was younger, too! She had become twenty seven last year and from the news, Leben was only twenty two.
"Madam," Fiora's heart skipped a beat as she jumped from the sudden call, "Master De Lapith is here. Shall I show him to the lobby?" Fiora took a breath and put a hand to her chest before standing straight.
"Yes, tell him I'll be there!" The receding footsteps did nothing to calm Fiora's rapidly beating heart. She stepped here and there, going back and forth, before checking herself once again and exiting her room. It was now or never! She would confess her love to him.
Leben stood in front of a painting of Fiora. Her pink-streaked hair stood against the dark paint and of the background, but went well with her armor. The artist either decided to paint her in her armor or the subject demanded it. Either way, the painter had gotten the exact image of the Grand Duelist.
"Leben, welcome!" Fiora's voice pierced the air, grabbing Leben's attention and seemingly pulling him to her. She went down the stairs from the second floor, her heels clacking on the stone, which he saw to be white with something shiny attached to the heels. Then, the hem of her cream silk dress graced his eyes before being outshined by the visage of Fiora. She rarely did makeup, but clearly today was not the case. Her eyes were accentuated by a light eyeshadow and eyeliner. Her cheeks had a bit of a blush and her lips were painted a bright red. The hair that usually framed her face was now tied up in a bun, leaving no hair to hang around her face, instead it seemed to present it to all that looked her way. Leben was breathless, only his eyes could take in the information, leaving his hands slightly shaky. Fiora snorted at Leben's stunned expression and elegantly walked down the stairs, going right up to the young man's face. Leben had stepped back by this point, his black shoes tapping on the stone. The Grand Duelist reached Leben's face, caressing his cheek before turning away, letting him get a whiff of her perfume.
"Ah! Fiora, I have a gift for you!" The woman in silk turned quickly with a look of curiosity and girlish excitement. Leben caught this and felt his heart melt at how much of a cute girl she looked when she wasn't glaring or scowling.
"Well? Let's see." Fiora's face was still in the childlike, suppressed, excited smile as Leben picked up his box from the lobby tea table. The box was quite large and it was wrapped in white paper with a pink satin tie. He handed the elegant woman the box and watched as she gracefully and gently took off the tie. She held it on her arm and undid the wrapping, making sure not to tear it.
As the blue box's top was removed, Fiora let go of her suppressed smile. She ran a hand across the fabric of the dress. It was silk, but the front of the dress had a unique addition. Shining tiny jewels, sparkled at her, not too gaudy, but it spoke of care and attention. The color of the dress was white, but the gems were a light pink, going with Fiora's hair. It had a split down the sides, an obvious acknowledgement of Fiora's love for tango.
"Merci, Leben. It's beautiful." She held it up, examining its texture and how it seemed to glow and move like water. Leben could only smile like an idiot, happy and content with her reaction.
"Ahem, mademoiselle et monsieur, le dinner is ready." Fiora and Leben returned to their formal states, Fiora making sure not to smile and instead look as confident as ever. Leben removed his grin and straightened his face. As the butler lead them to the dining room, the butler rolled his eyes as he saw how the two younger nobles had swiftly removed their smiles. As he walked straight and proper, he rolled his eyes, Kids these days…
The Demacians were seated across from each other, the table neither too long nor too wide, letting them speak easily and comfortably across from each other even with the food between them. The entree to start was thinly cut and sauteed beef with special basil and paprika sauce. As the two sat down with their respective plates set before them, they waited. With quiet thanks, the butler closed the doors and left Leben and Fiora in peace. The high windows showed darkness outside, but to them, each other seemed to light up the ginormous room.
"Fiora… I must thank you for inviting me for dinner." The wine set before them was dark and tempting to Leben. "But, I must ask you, why?" Fiora sipped her wine, enjoying the alcoholic flavor mixed with grapes.
"Is it so wrong?" Fiora asked, her face was sharp as ever, none of the girlish charm left. She was either annoyed or upset.
"Er- no, but what if news spread?" Fiora scoffed and looked Leben straight in the eye.
"My servants are loyal."
"What if I spread news?"
"I hope not."
"And if I do?"
"You won't."
"Who says?" Fiora looks at Leben with a glare, but he's in all the way. All though he loved her, wanted her, he couldn't risk anything happening that would affect either of them negatively.
"You're not the kind of man I know to do such a thing." Leben's breath is still, his words squirming in his throat.
"How do you know?"
"WHY IS IT WRONG?" Fiora got up and slammed the table, shaking the plates and rattling the silverware. Her hair had gotten in her face, but her stare pierced Leben's soul. The younger one's mind was empty. Now he'd done it. Fiora sat down and drank her wine, tipping it over without a care.
"Leben… You're my best student. You're smart enough to know what I dislike, you've been wonderful since the day I met you…" She was looking down at the table, Leben could only look up at the pause, "So why do you do things that I dislike- today of all days!?" Fiora waved her hand to emphasize her emotion. Two small tears ran down and marred her makeup, they ran down her face, meeting at her chin. They fell, combined, and hit the table.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Fiora nodded and dabbed her eyes lightly with the napkin.
"Heh, it's fine. It feels good to say it." She took a deep breath and looked at Leben.
"Fiora, it might be a bad time, but I should say it now before I get barred from any contact with you in the future." Fiora raised an eyebrow. "Like many men, I've fallen for you. Your beauty, your talent, but above all, your actions." Leben held a breath, waiting to see if Fiora would throw the knife she was clutching tightly. "Ever since you taught me how to dance, I could only try my best to reach you. Now I've gone and threw the only chance I have." He swallowed his saliva, making sure to say it clear. "Would you perhaps like to get to know each other better? After this?" Fiora let go of the knife. A silent moment passes and Fiora's head is in her hand.
"Heh… Heheh, tu es vraiment le meilleur." She sniffles and looks up. "Oui, I would like that." She chuckles and Leben breathes comfortably. "Does this mean we are dating?" Leben blushed at Fiora's bluntness.
"Yes, if it's fine with you." Fiora laughs and Leben chuckles. The night is filled with their banter, discussing music and dance, Arstor's language, and the food. Of course, as the meal is brought in, the butler could only sigh in relief as he saw that there wasn't a corpse in the dining room. He last saw them eating their meals, staring into each other's eyes, and- geez, they're already flirting….
Alcohol stinks from the two nobles' breath. By now, they've eaten well and the clock had reached eleven. The plates were cleared, leaving only wine on the table. The manor is empty, minus the guards in the guardhouse.
"Lllllleben," She moans, "You've such a nice ass." Her language was gauche and lacking any formality, transformed by alcohol and sultriness. Leben could only smile and try his hardest not to pay attention to his raging hard on. Fiora's dress had slipped off her shoulder, showing that she didn't wear a bra and gave the man across from her a little more of the fleshy tits. Leben's jacket was on the chair and his three buttons on his shirt were undone, showing his muscled pectorals and giving Fiora a bit of a tease.
"Fiora… You're so sexy. Everytime we touch, I get this feeling… The feeling never goes away." Fiora strolled over, giving her hips a sexy step with each stride. She sat on the table and leaned over, showing her cleavage, and giving Leben an even harder erection. They looked into each other's eyes, but Fiora took a quick glance down and saw a sight that made her gasp in delight. A hardening rapier, strong foil, a dance waiting to be started. Giggling, she got off the table and went between Leben's legs. The white-haired man could only stare into his teacher's eyes as she got under the table. Hands of thin fingers ghosted his thighs, going dangerously close to his heated loins. A stray finger dragged its tip from balls to head, making sure to come down and rub the head and stain his trousers with a bit of pre-cum. Leben moaned, but he couldn't reach under the table. The finger did its attack again, making sure to rub his head in a circle, teasing him. He bucked his hips, trying to find Fiora and find her he did.
His dick rubbed against something soft and fleshy, but bumped into something hard.
"Mmmm, eager are we? Well don't worry, this cheek isn't the one you want." Oh gods. Leben could only hold in a moan at the sultry voice. A warm hand went to his waistline and pulled the zipper a bit, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down. Fiora looked at the tall meat-obelisk. It twitched and radiated heat, seemingly wanting to stab flesh. She took heady breaths of the scent of Leben's loins, rubbing her face against the meat, as if teasing him with the repeated action. Before Leben could do anything, she hooked her fingers on the waistband and slowly pulled the boxers down, making sure not to get caught on the grand meat. It was about six inches and about six in circumference, but besides that, it looked more like a long pole than an actual penis. The skin was stretched and the veins were visible against the skin. The thing seemed to stare at her angrily, demanding touch with its twitching beat. The Grand Duelist, took off her bun and let her hair out, this would require a tempo more than three beats per measure.
"Fiora, stop teasing me and- ahhh," Leben moaned and leaned over as he felt warmth slimy liquid cover his meat. He felt hair tickle his pelvis and a slimy tongue run itself against his penis, covering only half of his length. Then, the soft plump lips wrapped at the middle slowly went down. The muscles clenched itself against the meat, making sure that the owner of the thick meat would feel the texture of the lips. Her tongue sloshed side to side against the dick, making sure to taste the organ. Then, it hit her throat, making her gag. Leben was panting, but when he heard that moan, he could only hump up as he twitched. Fiora gagged again, finding the pain and the erotic noise to be arousing. She went up and down again, gagging and bumping her throat. Leben moaned louder, feeling the slimy and soft texture of his teacher's throat. She likes this… The dirty woman. He humped up repeatedly, hearing and feeling his lover moan on his dick. He humped more, harder, faster, feeling the saliva drip and splurt onto his pelvis and balls. Fiora had lifted her dress and moved her black underwear out of the way. She rubbed her folds with each thrust and gag, eventually rubbing faster and faster. She inserted a finger in, moaning and sucking on the meat harder as she pumped herself. If he sees me like this, ooooh gods. She felt a rush go through her as she felt the shame and excitement.
"Mmmmm mmmmph" hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag.
"Me too, ugh!" hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- hump gag- and a dam breaks. Leben felt his dick twitch and pulse as he sent a stream of semen and sperm into Fiora's mouth. She suckled on half his dick, licking his tip as the salty liquid coated her mouth and tongue and roof, lining her teeth. Leben could only relax as he felt himself enter high, his dick pulsing with release and his body in pleasure. Fiora on the other hand suckled harder, moaning and spraying the floors with her urine and release. As she let go of the meat, Leben moved the chair. He got a view of the tongue-penis dancer and was left with a rising erection.
Her makeup was ruined, black streamed down her face, lipstick on her cheeks and on his dick, and a face that spoke of a masochistic ecstasy. Her breasts were fully on display, the pink nipples pert with arousal and the little hairs of her trimmed bush peeking from below. The mess on the floor only added to the beauty of it all, the total disregard for customs and the disregard of a need to be pristine and perfect. Fiora Laurent, the Grand Duelist, the master of all, was a quivering sloppy mess that fingered herself to sucking and gagging on his dick while pissing herself to the pleasure of sucking him off.
She got up, crawling on his legs and touching his cheek. Leben did the same, finding her face to be intricately beautiful up close as well. Fiora reached down and gripped the hard meat. She stroked it lightly, getting it harder. With a tentative lick and a nip on his neck, he huffed and pushed her onto the table. With her ass out and her chest down, he spread her legs. Panting, he inhaled her womanly scent, twitching with anticipation. Her lips were red and wet, perfectly ready. He got up and put his meat on her rear, rubbing the thing between the cheeks. These fat cheeks that rubbed against him when he danced with her, how they bounced when she moved or how they strained on her tight clothes. He held his dick at her eager pussy, making sure to rub it good at the entrance, and reared his hips back. Like a fencer in perfect form, he lunged and pierced her through. He tore through her hymen, the tight entrance tightening and becoming wetter. The scream was mixed with tears and pleasure, her ass shaking and slapping on his, begging for more. And more she got.
He didn't bother to check and started on his work. The grand dining room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping glorious flesh and the sound of the master of the dining room moaning and crying her lungs out. The tight walls constricted his dick and her juices ran down both their legs. Sweat formed on each other, making a sheen in the light. Her dress was hiked up and dirtied, but neither cared. As Fiora was being pummeled by the white-haired Demacian, Leben could only do his best to hold out. He felt his heart beat faster and his chest rush with a need for release, but he wanted more. Fiora tried to get up to take off her dress, but a sudden smack and pain made her yelp and tighten up. Smack-cry, smack-moan, smack-groan, smack-shudder, smack-smack-smack-smack-. The sound didn't stop and the tears were of sick pleasure instead of suffering. Her ass was red with a hand print and her pussy lips were puffy and raw as she had came long before. Yet, Leben was not done. His hair was in his face, he just humped away, but it was too much. Her reactive tightening, her sounds, and the way she felt was too much. Tight, soft, erotic, and a cannon fired white all over the pink fertile land. The warm cannon shells coated her walls, warming her stomach and core. They stayed connected, Fiora panting and her face on the wood while Leben was bent over her, dick hard and throbbing with shots of white. As it slowed its pumping, he pulled out and saw his work slide out, dirtying the floor even more. The white creation that dripped out of the pink moved up and down with her breath. Red ass cheeks, pink puffy pussy, muscles sore as her ass, and tears all over her face and table. Leben sat down and peeled Fiora off the table and onto his lap. His dick slid back in, feeling the warmth and slick texture like home. He was hard, but it would go away, until then, he would enjoy it. She panted on his lap, feeling full and in nirvana.
"L-leben… Ooooh," She moaned as the pain of her ass cheeks sent pleasure through her. "I'm going to kill you." Her threat was empty and humorous. Leben laughed dryly.
"How? With your breasts?" Fiora laughed and shivered as the pain of her ass sent pleasure down her spine.
"Maybe. Looks like we're going to be sleeping together." Leben nodded, breathing in her hair and finding it to be fragrant.
The two had walked to the bedroom, dick still sheathed, but as soon as they pulled the covers over each other, Fiora had made sure to turn around and pull her lover into her chest. With his dick in her and his face in her bosom, they fell asleep. The morning came, sunlight pierced the dining room windows and the bedroom. The smell of reproductive fluids and urine stank in the dining room, but the maids and butlers made sure to be quick to clean. The head butler took in the damage and sighed.
"Kids these days. So amateurish." He looked down and saw the blood, urine, semen, and tears. The old man went outside the room and asked a maid to go to their master's room. "Tell madam that tea is ready." The little girl nodded and went up. Naturally, the couple freaked out and tried to hide behind the covers, but the girl just left them be. Leben looked at Fiora's ruined makeup and she looked at his disheveled white hair.
"You look so good."
"We have all day, mon amour." Leben chuckled pervertedly and Fiora giggle as Leben threw off the sheets, ready for round two.
Goddamn kids, I should probably get some pills for the madam.