Here's a good one.
For a few moments he forgot where he was, his head pressed back against the grass as his mind sank into the shallow waters of oblivion. Briefly he gazed at the sky above, though his thoughts were anywhere but…
A barely audible sigh passed by John’s lips. Vriska heard him and pulled away from him. Her throat clacked a bit but she kept her eyes, glinting with amusement and other playful thoughts, on John’s face. He looked down at her to see her blue lips brushing against the tip of his penis through the thicket of black hair. “Vriska…”, he whispered, reaching down to stroke her hair and pull it away from her face.
She smiled back up at him and bit the inside of his thigh gently. John yelped in that hazy way of a boy caught between pleasure and pain. Vriska showed him the red stains on her teeth. Then she kissed his wound. She licked at the blood delicately at first, and then began eagerly kissing and sucking all around his groin. John’s back arched and the muscles all down his back and buttocks tensed with the violent shiver of pleasure. A hand suddenly ran up under his shirt and raked beautifully sharp nails across his hairless, boy-skylark chest. For a moment she left him there, sucking hard at the base of his balls whilst he, with his knees in the air, pushed up with his neck and shoulders against the hill behind him.
Then she let go.
John’s jaw fell slack along with his body. He was helpless before her. Everyone had warned him. He’d heard her called a bitch. Well, right now he was the bitch. “Vriskaaaaaaaa…” John whined pathetically, eyes closed tight and not even saying it for any coherent reason at all. The bucktoothed boy with thick glasses was fast becoming the well-loved plaything of the manipulative little troll.
And he did his part wonderfully.