satoru loves you in anything you wear—from airy sundresses in light colors you choose in summer to oversized t-shirts reaching your knees and baggy jeans you tend to put on in autumn.
but there’s something about that one skirt you have in your wardrobe that makes satoru lose his mind.
it’s nothing fancy—just a plaid skirt in muted colors, but wearing it always ends in one way.
your face is now pressed into pillows; you have nothing on except for the skirt. your boyfriend has been toying with you for a long time—running his tip through your wet folds, nudging your entrance with it, teasing you endlessly.
“you knew what you were doing.” satoru’s hand caresses your ass before spanking it, which causes you to yelp. “distracting me from work.”
“it wasn’t on purpose.” satoru spanks you again even harder, leaving your skin stinging and in flames.
a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. the sheets beneath are wrinkled from your tight grip. satoru buries his hand in your tangled hair, yanking your face up.
“just admit what a desperate little slut you’re for me.” his rough voice drips with amusement. for a moment, the bedroom is silent like the bottom of the lake.
“please, toru. stop t-teasing.” a few warm tears spill from your eyes, making their way to your lips and coating them with saltiness.
you try to angle your hips closer, but your lover chuckles lowly and harshly grabs your hips. you pout and glance at satoru with a neediness palpable in your eyes. it’s a priceless sight—eyes glossy with tears and swollen lips from all the stolen kisses.
“i need you so badly, please.” your sweet whines finally break satoru, and he sinks deep with a swift thrust, causing both of you to moan in relief.
he doesn’t waste any second—his pace is already relentless. one of his hands stays on your ass, sometimes pinching your inflamed skin.
“you feel so fucking good, baby.” he groans, mouth slightly parted. beads of sweat roll down his neck to his collarbones. soundless moans escape from your lips. “such a pretty girl—fuck—” your walls flutter around him like you want—no—need him to stay inside you forever.
satoru hits the perfect spot, stretching you out so intensely. ragged breaths float through the air.
your body is a museum of passion—all the bruises, marks, and spit glistening like an art on display only for satoru.
“i-i’m so close.” eyes roll to the back of the skull. pleasure overtakes your body—burning and electric.
“yeah? already?” he says mockingly but his hand finds your clit and draws messy circles, sending you over the edge.
release hits you hard like a storm, making your sore body tremble. satoru follows right after you. he pulls out of you and cums on your back, spreading his seed all over your skirt.
“oh, i guess you can’t wear it now.” a fake sympathetic smile appears on his handsome face as he smears it even more.
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