ollie x savannah

lmao

Movie night: it was basically perfect, to tell the truth. Grape juice poured into wine glasses, The Bee Movie brightly displayed in front of Savannah and Oliver in all of its glory, and instead of a bowl of popcorn, each with their own can of frosting.
They had barely gotten to the part where Barry was whacked around while stuck on a tennis ball when Oliver glanced to his, quitely frankly, stunning lover. It didn’t take much more than the sound of Barry B. Benson screaming bloody murder mixed together with the sight of the lovely Savannah to give him some, to say the least, interesting thoughts--and a stiffy.

The strawberry blonde stuck his finger into his frosting can, once removing his hand, sneakily moving his hand to Savanna’s next, delicately beginning to slather the icing onto her neck. Slightly taken aback by this sudden movement--as she had become severely invested in the truly enthralling movie--the brunette flinched ever-so-slightly, with a nearly inaudible gasp.

Oliver soothingly shushed her, his hand hand finding its way to her thigh, rubbing it softly. “Hush, Love..” He breathily whispered, sensually beginning to lick off the previously placed frosting.

She shivered lightly, the smallest of moans finding their way from her lips. Hey eyes danced around the dimly lit room, her mind suddenly unable to focus on the legend himself, Adam Flayman, angrily yelling at Barry--she could only think about how good she felt. “O-ollie-” She sputtered out, a moan cutting her off at the very last second.

Instead of responding properly, Oliver bit down on her neck, at the same time, slapping her thigh semi-harshly. He pulled away from her neck, his hand casually gliding up her pastel pink lolita-style dress, rubbing her from the outside of her panties. “Who?” He asked, his tone sweet, yet most likely able to make a grown man shake; it drove Savannah crazy, though.

Savannah paused, her mind racing with everything that Oliver had ever requested that she call him. After a brief five seconds, though, her thoughts were redirected to a specific name--the most common. “Oh- Daddy!” She squealed out.

The Brit chuckled in a husky tone, biting softly on Savannah’s ear, right after whispering, “Good girl,” as he sped his fingers’ repetitive massaging of her protected clit to a drastically faster speed.

Another gasp came from Savannah, this one slightly louder. Her thighs naturally responded to the pleasure by squeezing shut on his hand--he smirked in response to this--and then reopening, but wider than before. As best as he could, due to the fact that Savannah was at least three inches taller than him, Oliver pushed her down onto her back, pushing her thighs apart wider than they already were. He slowly and teasingly slid her cutesy lolita panties down, down, down eventually tossing them towards the TV screen, which was showing Barry discussing how unfair the honey trade was between bees and humans with Vanessa.

Before doing what Savannah wished he would hurry up and do already, Oliver reached for his frosting can, which had been set to the side prior. He dipped one, two, then three fingers into it, making a scooping movement, before pulling his fingers out of the thick sugar paste. Glancing toward Savannah’s expression, which was pure want--no, need--at this point. The strawberry blonde smirked, beginning to apply the frosting around and eventually on her womanhood.

Dipping his head down to lick off what he just put on, his tongue danced around, on, and occasionally in her pussy. In response to each and every one of these motions, a hearty moan was given, the volume depending on the specifics of it.

Eventually, when Oliver couldn’t see or taste any more of the icing, he sat up--gaining a whine from Savannah; she was awfully close to her climax then. She didn’t push it, though, because she knew Oliver, and Oliver wouldn’t leave her that close to the edge.

Managing to flip her over quickly--as quickly as he could, again, height differences--he pulled her hips up to his groin, the time that it took to unzip his pants and pop his member out of his boxers being just long enough that she wouldn’t instantly finish.

Savannah moaned, gripping tightly onto the pillow that Oliver had unknowingly shoved her face into when he grabbed her hips so quickly--it’s not like she minded, though. He continued to pound into her, the only sounds in the entire home being skin slapping against skin, the occasional smacking noise, courtesy of Oliver spanking the currently bent over brunette(™), moaning coming from the two of them--mostly Savannah, to be honest--and Barry defending his claim in court quite persistently, and Layton T. Montgomery slandering both Barry and Vanessa.

The brunette moaned, louder than all of the previous ones, a clear sign that she was nearing her climax once again. If that wasn’t enough evidence, though,she lifted her head from the pillow that it remained in, loudly managing out, “C-close!” Although it was simply one word, Oliver knew exactly what it was supposed to mean.
Leaning over, as routine, Oliver got a hold of her neck, using it to both pleasure Savannah more, and give himself the ability to speed up his ramming.

That sure did the trick, alright--like always. Within mere minutes, Savannah could feel her climax drawing closer and closer “D-daddy!” She called out, her face red from how much she was trying not to release on the very spot.

“Yes, Babygirl?” Oliver asked through quiet pants, planning to release at the same time his lover did. He was especially good at waiting until the very right moment. No worries, though, because she was on the pill.

“Ya-” Savannah began, but was cut off with one of her own moans. “Ya like jazz?” She nearly screamed, cumming right when she said the final word of the phrase.
For unknown reasons, those words oddly turned Oliver on, causing him to almost instantly finish--but again, Savannah was on the pill, so there was no sense of panic.
Panting heavily, just as his partner, the Brit pulled out, and let go of Savannah’s neck from his freckled hands.

Savannah slowly got off of her knees and elbows, flattening her skirt once she was back to sitting next to Oliver, just as they were before the whole thing began. She looked over at him, he looked over at her--but as cliche as it was, they both just sort of smiled at each other, both their blue eyes staring into the other’s.

After about ten pure seconds of smiling whilst paying no attention to what was happening anywhere else, Savannah’s ears picked up a fairly familiar phrase. Breaking gaze with Oliver, she turned her head to the TV, and just as Oliver was putting his dick away, she began to chant along with the crowd of bees, “Thinking bee! Thinking bee!” She shouted. “Thinking bee!”

Oliver just watched her, still smiling softly. She was a dork, but he loved her. She was his dork, per se.