Chapter Text
When Franco told Ted Kravitz on live television that he was 'quite talented with some things', he wasn't lying.
About his tongue, to be more specific.
Because if there was one thing that was true about Franco Colapinto, it was that he could eat pussy for days. Every time you were away from him for even a day, he got so desperate that by the time he finally had you all to himself, he was more ripping than taking off the clothes from your body.
He moaned at the first swipe of his tongue against your pussy, lapping at the wetness until he could only taste his own spit. Then he began with slow kisses to the lips, flicking his tongue here and there, to leaving open mouthed kisses on your clit. Franco knew just when to lave at it, just when to suck on your clit and just when to dip his hot tongue inside.
But Franco didn't know how to stop. Once he got the taste of your pussy, he didn't know how to do anything but please you until there were tears in your eyes. His talented tongue was already overwhelming enough, your legs closing in over his head. He held them apart with his strong, calloused hands. Franco moaned as he swirled his tongue around your clit, the vibrations going straight to the pit of heat in your belly. You could come in thirty seconds or thirty minutes, and he couldn't care less. His goal was to make you come as many times as he could in one night no matter how long it took.
He buried his tongue in your hole as the first orgasm washed over you, trying to taste as much of your cum as possible. "F-Franco," you could whimper as many times as you liked. His night had only begun.
He sucked on your clit until the swollen, sensitive bud was red and you were crying of overstimulation. He met your gaze with a nasty smirk, looking between you and your pussy a few times before diving back in.
That was when he added fingers.
He kept looking at you as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth to get them nice and wet. Franco thrusted both in at the same time, sometimes beside his tongue. You didn't know shit about team management, but you wouldn't be lying if you said his mouth and fingers had excellent coordination. The second orgasm had you tugging at his curls.
"Franco, I- I can't. S'too much," you whined.
He curled his fingers punishingly into that one spot that had you screaming his name. "Don't lie to me, amor. I know you can give me one more."
You whimpered and pulled his curls, trying to get his mouth off of your pussy. Your thighs trembled under his palms.
"Shhh, it's okay. Just relax, amor. Don't fight it, just let yourself go," he cooed, words soft even as he scissored you open with his fingers and slipped his tongue in with them right after.
"I can't."
"You will." He curled his fingers inside you and sucked on your clit at the same time, and you cried out from the sensations.
"Franco, please, m'sorry, I can't take it," you sobbed as the pleasure edged into pain.
He gave a break, caressing your waist with a free hand. "Shhh, it's alright. I'm here, amor. Relax. Relax."
Your chest heaved with gasps. "I can't."
"Don't you want to be good for me, amor? It's just one more. You're close, I can feel it." He took his fingers out, tongue reaching even deeper into your stretched out pussy. His nose and chin were covered with your wetness.
You didn't even realise you came until he pulls his mouth off your pussy, lips red and swollen and slick with your cum. He grinned down at you, you were too floaty to even smile back. Then Franco came up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"You did so good for me, amor."