chan’s hips have been snapping against yours for the latter half of the hour tonight. really, you shouldn’t have done what you did. it was a quick, off handed, self deprecating remark about yourself, and just like that, chan had enough.
he was already feeling on edge from the studio. and now he felt like he failed you to not reassure you enough. that’s how you got yourself here.
you can’t apologize. not because you’re being a brat or doing anything on purpose, but rather because chan has you laid prone on your stomach as his hips feverishly snap against your ass. making it quite literally impossible to reply outside of breathy moans being punched from your lungs. repeated motions that have had you crying into the pillow your face is sunken into.
“c’mon baby, you can do it… say “i’m sorry channie”… f-fuckin’ hell!”
chan’s body slowly comes down onto yours, his chest flush against your back as his arms ensnare around your shoulder. his head drops to the back of yours, his voice a low rasp of heavy breathing. his hips slow to grind against the plush of your ass, rocking and rutting into the wetness of your arousal. his panting turns into a low growl at your refusal.
“pretty girl… sweet baby, say it. say it and i’ll make you cum so good.”
meanwhile, you’re just a mess under him. head turned slightly as his bicep wraps under your chin, hands clawing at his strong arms. eyes bleary and wet with tears from how good it feels every time he quickly bottoms out and fills you so right. the sounds are obscene, salacious squelches as he drags every drop out of you. and you’ll do just the same to him if you keep fluttering around him like that.
“‘m s-sorry, cha— haah— channie! it feels so good, so good, please don’t stop!”
chan smiles to himself as he drags out a moan from his chest, laughing in a way that pinches off at the end in a high whine. his brows furrow and eyes close, slowing his movement down to fuck himself deeper.
“that wasn’t so h-hard now, was it, pretty thing…?” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip to catch himself from drooling down your back. his hands pin your lower back down to the bed, forcing a nasty arch that makes you sob in equal parts relief and overstimulation.
“who’s my good girl, yeah? is that you? am i fucking my good girl stupid right now? huh? m-my beautiful good girl…”
chan’s sentences are punctuated with deep strokes, feeling his pelvis thrust and rock against you in languid motions. his words are overwhelming but that’s what he wants. you were just being so mean to the woman he loves, which is you.
“are you going to keep fighting with yourself or let me fuck you good, gorgeous?” chan heaves out, his chest pressing against your shoulder blades as he kisses into your hair. he ducks his head to lick a stripe up your spine to your neck, and chuckles a moan when he feels how squirmy and whiny you get. your moans are almost sobs from how his plush mushroom tip is kissing against that sensitive spot inside.
“sweetheart,” he drawls out, almost in a singsong voice. “you’re so… very precious… perfect girl, yeah? thank you f-for— fuck— sharing this perfect body.”
those deep strokes are reciprocated with your pussy squeezing him so tight chan swears he might be able to taste the stars. and because chan knows how to elevate your orgasm…
“sh-shit baby, breathe… breathe, just breathe, let it happen babygirl—”
a few inhales and exhales, and chan is wrapping that bicep around to grab your face. he loves that teary look in your eyes, like it feels too good to do anything but cry. your pussy is clenching on him like a vice, the sweet slapping and mixing of fluids…
he can’t help it, chan brings his lips hovering over yours, whispering, “i love you, sweetheart… cum for me.”
there’s a ringing in your ears when it happens, the churning of the knot builds so quick, you don’t even have time to think. chan’s groan bleeds into a whimper the second he feels your tight cunt shudder with shocks, milking him and causing his own release. the hiccuped sobs of moans you release have him praying the walls are thick enough to hide from neighbors. chan wants them all to himself.
he presses as deep as he can to flood you with hot cum, kissing all over your face from tears. your skin is tacky with sweat and stunning in the afterglow. chan runs his hands over your sweat slicked forehead, pushing back anything still sticking to you.
“don’t ever say that stuff again, baby… yeah…? you did such a good job, sweetheart… such a perfect and sweet girl…”
chan smacks a kiss to your temple, laying his weight down on your back. your eyes are already drooping from contentedness while he traces patterns onto your hip. his initials. little hearts. swirls that never end.
“i’m here to protect you from all of that… always.”
—
author's note: well… this is unexpected! thank you for 900 followers i love you guys so much :’) final exams are biting my ass right now
já comecei a escrever e está tomando um rumo diferente do que eu esperava... to triste pq provavelmente vai flopar mas to orgulhosa do que to escrevendo
⢷⠀Avisos: MDNI, university AU, um leve age gap (todos maiores de idade!), relação não estabelecida, sexo explícito.
⢷⠀Notas: Esvaziando rascunhos parte 2.
Entre as altas e extensas prateleiras, onde o solitário som de passos longínquos ecoa, cercados por livros antigos e empoeirados, organizados meticulosamente entre elas, você e Wonwoo aproveitavam a área de estudos de uma forma muito mais prazerosa do que estudando.
— Você inventa cada uma, professor Jeon. — O homem riu nasalado com seu comentário, afastando minimamente o rosto do seu.
— Mas você nunca nega, não é, mocinha? — Você retribuiu o riso, fixando um olhar fervoroso no dele logo após o cochicho.
As roupas amarrotadas, os cabelos bagunçados e o ar ofegante já diziam tudo. Era o terceiro encontro naquela semana. E nenhum deles teve foco em estudos.
Há quase um mês, vocês passaram de trocar olhares indecentes durante a aula a se encontrarem escondidos nos cantos mais esquecidos da universidade. Mas isso não surgiu do nada. O clima entre vocês fervia há tempos, desde as provocações sutis em sala até a forma como você o encarava sem pudor, e ele começou a responder com olhares demorados demais e palavras com duplo sentido durante as explicações particulares.
Wonwoo demorou a ceder verdadeiramente. Ele conhecia o risco. Um professor universitário, funcionário antigo da instituição, se envolvendo com uma aluna — maior de idade, sim, mas ainda assim — era cruzar uma linha séria. Poderia perder o emprego, a carreira, o nome. No entanto, resistir a você estava se tornando insuportável. Talvez até impossível.
Ele se lembrava bem do dia em que a última gota de controle escorreu por entre os dedos.
A sala estava vazia. A aula já havia acabado, todos já tinham ido embora, menos você. Você ficou ali, de pé, encostada na porta, agarrada aos seus livros, com um olhar analítico e silencioso.
Então, veio o golpe final, você se aproximou da mesa do professor com calma, deixou o material de lado por um instante e se inclinou até ficar na altura dos olhos dele. Disse, com a voz baixa e carregada de algo que ele fingia não notar:
— Tem algo no seu olhar que me deixa inquieta, professor... Curiosa. E sinceramente, eu adoro isso.
A última frase, sussurrada daquela maneira, o atormentou o suficiente.
Você saiu da sala em silêncio. Ele ficou ali, sozinho, com o corpo em chamas e o cérebro gritando que era loucura. Mas já era tarde demais. Desde então, Wonwoo começou a procurar desculpas para cruzar com você nos corredores. E no fim daquela mesma semana, foi ele quem mandou a mensagem:
“Minha sala.
Espera todo mundo ir embora.”
E você foi. Com um sorriso nos lábios e a certeza de que ele já era seu.
A cada encontro, a coisa toda só piorava. Vocês já haviam transado no carro dele, na sala de vídeo vazia, nos fundos de um laboratório desativado. Mas a biblioteca virou o ponto predileto. Havia algo no contraste livros, silêncio quase inabitável e imoralidade que tornava tudo ainda mais excitante.
As mãos de Jeon agarravam sua bunda com vontade, os dedos delgados se perdendo ali. Suas pernas envolviam a cintura dele, e seu corpo se apoiava numa prateleira qualquer, enquanto você rebolava devagar no pau teso do mesmo, que a socava fundo.
— Já te disse hoje o quanto você está magnífica, espetacular? — Jeon sussurrou ofegante contra sua boca antes de voltar a beijá-la desordenado, se deliciando com os últimos resquícios do gloss de morango em seus lábios.
— Hoje ainda não… — Você fez bico, safada, provocando.
Wonwoo sorriu, e aquele sorrisinho era um gatilho.
— Você está perfeita, querida… tão gostosa. Desse jeito, eu acabo gozando só de olhar pra você.
Ele colou a testa na sua, o nariz roçando no seu. Era estranho ver alguém como ele, sério, disciplinado, regrado, perder o controle assim. Com você. Por você.
Seu corpo se alavancava com as investidas firmes e certeiras de Wonwoo, a base grossa do pau roçando em seu pontinho sensível, deixando-a ainda mais embriagada de prazer. Você mordeu o lábio, tentando não gemer alto. Mas os sons molhados, os estalos ritmados da pele contra pele, enchiam o ar abafado do lugar.
Ele a prendia pela cintura, agora beijando seu pescoço enquanto a boca faminta se enfiava no vão dos seus seios ainda cobertos pelo sutiã. E as estocadas? Mais rápidas, mais fortes, mais desesperadas. Se fosse um âmbito movimentado, qualquer aluno do outro lado da estante poderia ouvi-los. Mas você pouco se importava. Aquilo só te deixava mais molhada.
Com uma mão cobrindo a boca, a outra desceu para esfregar seu clitóris, buscando um alívio imediato no nervinho sensível. O corpo dele batendo dentro de você no ritmo exato. Seus olhinhos reviraram, os músculos tremeram, os dedinhos do pé se contorceram e o gemido abafado escapou mesmo assim.
Você gozou apertando o pau dele com força, sentindo as pulsadas dele dentro de você logo em seguida. Wonwoo gozou quente e espesso, lambuzando sua virilha, enquanto arfava alto.
Mas não houve tempo para aproveitar o descanso. Passos. Vozes. Alunos se aproximando.
Rapidamente, ajeitaram as roupas e fingiram foco no primeiro livro que encontraram. Wonwoo ficou de cabeça baixa, tentando ao máximo esconder o rosto, na esperança de não ser reconhecido.
Quando o pequeno grupo passou, ele se virou de canto e sussurrou, ainda buscando fôlego:
— Amanhã, mesmo horário?
Você sorriu, já saindo de fininho:
— Claro, professor Jeon. Ainda tem muita coisa que quero aprender com o senhor.
E o deixou ali, sorrindo feito idiota, com a cabeça quente e o pau já querendo mais.
Gostou? Dá uma forcinha aí! Uma curtida, um reblog ou um comentário são mais do que suficientes para eu saber que você se agradou com meu conteúdo :)
summary: Oscar is a devout catholic, and the reader loves spending time with him; after all, friends should walk together in faith… right?
warnings: mdni, fingering, oral f!receving, sexual tension, blasphemy (why not?), first-person reader, manipulation (?)… I think that's all.
notes: as you probably know, english isn't my native language, so there may be errors in the writing. this fanfic has been in my drafts since february, and I decided to post it even though I hated it. If you like it, let me know.
Oscar Piastri and His Devotion 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
It's not like Oscar was a bad friend; he just wanted to help me understand how difficult it is to be a devout person. We go to church together, and he prays in such a charming way that you can feel all the faith he emanates. He loves the feast days in honor of the saints, oh God, how he adores them!
He knows how much I long to be a novice and then become a nun; he respects and admires my willpower. Sometimes he says, "My God, how I wish I were as steadfast in church as you," and I feel adorable but at the same time like an idiot… I wasn't as good as they thought and said. Sadly, I lost count of how many times I stared at my "colleague's" tight jeans, stared at his veiny hands longing for his touch, or felt my private parts terribly hot after a touch on my waist.
Oscar was a good man who reprimanded his friends when they brought inappropriate topics to the table. Oscar is a good man who always went to talk to the priest after Mass. A good man who regularly confessed sins that the priest laughed at because they were so silly. A good man who once asked permission to enter the convent to give white roses to the nuns as a gesture of admiration.
Oscar is a man who attracts the attention of all the girls, but always shows disinterest in them. Oscar is the man who makes any girl fall at his feet begging for an indecent touch. After all, how could one not fall in love amidst so much tenderness?
Oscar is sitting on my bed right now, we're discussing saints. Our friendship has evolved a lot lately, it's almost as if we can't spend so much time apart.
"What do you think of Saint Roch?" I asked.
"He was a nice guy, he donated his things to the poor, cured people of the plague, and he even likes dogs."
"Hm… and Saint Rita?"
"She's interesting, she was beaten by her husband, lost her children, like most saints she suffered a lot and died. She's the personification of faith, every time I have a terrible race I pray to her and the following weekend I excel."
"So that's the secret?" I replied with a smile on my face.
"I'm a great driver, okay? But in this sport everything becomes an impossible cause…" I started laughing even more.
"Alright, aspiring novice, my turn! Saint Augustine?" he asked, interrupting my laughter.
"Oh, calm down! He combined everything that many hate, faith and reason. He was very intelligent, although I've never stopped to think about some of his ideas."
"He was cool, he had some fucking awesome ideas."
"Oscar!" I slapped his arm and he started laughing.
"Sorry, I lost my manners," he said between laughs.
"To conclude, what do you think of Saint Benedict?"
Oscar fell silent and became serious. "Oscar?"
He snorted and massaged his chin thoughtfully.
"I don't know, I find him very dramatic."
I stared at him in astonishment.
"Oscar, he's the patron saint of Europe!"
"Yes, but I think he's a fool. He rolled around in a thorny bush to escape the temptation of a woman who invaded his thoughts during a prayer… what nonsense!"
"Oscar, he was studying to become a priest!!!"
"My dear, he wasn't even approved by the church."
"But it's ridiculous that you speak of him like that! He was an important man and still is."
"I believe that in my pre-adolescence I had more perverse thoughts than he ever had in his whole life."
Oscar leaned against the footboard of my iron bed. My room looked like a girl's from the 90s, with flowery wallpaper, posters of Catholic saints, a white desk with very few beauty products, and other wooden furniture. On the headboard of my bed was a rosary and a prayer beads, and above it an image of Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper. An eternally naive virgin, but it was all I wanted and needed, right?
"I wish I could be like him, confront my sinful desires that way."
Oscar laughed at my answer; perhaps deep down he knew that my truths weren't as true as everyone thought.
"How silly you are, aren't you? You'd throw yourself into the woods, get hurt at what cost?"
"For the same reason as him! To escape sinful thoughts and maintain my purity."
His arched eyebrows and indecent smile reflected very well what was going on in his mind.
"What are you trying so hard to escape? The times you got jealous seeing me talking to other girls? The urge to kiss me after a discreet, indecent touch? Or the thousands of times you stared at my penis during mass? Tell me, I'd like to know."
My throat tightened as if a lump were stuck, preventing me from speaking and acting properly. My blood felt like it was boiling inside my veins, my senses now seemed disconnected, and my wide eyes revealed my worst secret.
"You're a silly girl, did you think I wouldn't notice? God wouldn't want to see you sad for not pursuing what you want."
"Oscar… you're distorting everything."
His gaze met mine. Suddenly my body was hot, as if it were melting. Oscar crawled towards me, our faces were close, and he began to rub his nose against my cheek.
"Oscar, you better stop," I said, my voice trembling.
He let out a nasal laugh.
"Push me away, move me, and then we'll stop."
I didn't move. I stood there like a fool, an idiot! I couldn't escape; he knew everything, he noticed every detail and my slip-ups. Oh God! I don't want him, I don't need him, why can't I leave him?
His smile, his eyes, his breath near my mouth…
"Oh darling, you want this, don't you?"
I was ashamed, destroyed, feeling like a failure, but at the same time… everything seemed so right. I just wanted to get rid of that feeling of lust.
"Don't feel bad, I'll do all the good you asked the heavens for… I'll take you there."
He nestled his face between my legs and began kissing the inside of my thighs until he reached… well, there. He kissed my entrance through the knitted fabric of my shorts. I was worse than before, making sounds as if I were tired.
Oscar pulled down my shorts, leaving my panties still there. Baby pink panties with printed bows… silly again! But Oscar seemed to like what he saw.
"Bambi, can you feel it?" He made light movements with his index finger over the fabric; it was wet and sticky.
"I-I don't know why you're like this."
He laughed.
"Bambi, you did this. You're wet, excited, and all this because of me. Can't you understand?"
I just nodded.
"Good girl, I'll make you feel good."
When Oscar took off my panties, I could feel the cold, the neediness, and the desire. I was completely exposed. Luckily, my vagina was shaved (not that it matters!!) because I was going to wear a bikini for the first time at a party and… that's not what matters.
He places his index finger in my folds and God, how can that be a sin?! He slides his finger so lightly up and down, Jesus, I'm so wet!!
"You've been in here before, right?" he asks, looking at me with eyes full of desire.
I shake my head and he smiles again, it's almost annoying!
"Good girl, Bambi, let me teach you."
Suddenly the icy emptiness is filled with warmth and internal heat. Oscar's index finger stays there – inside me – adapting, being crushed by my interior. Slowly Oscar begins to move, making a hooking motion and reaching a place in me I've never known. He speeds up and everything becomes so… obscene. The wet noises, the sounds my throat couldn't contain, and the guilt.
"Osc… please, t-this is so…"
My words are swallowed by a devouring kiss Oscar gives me. He inserts another finger, he's very close to me. He pulls away and takes the rosary hanging on the headboard and wraps it around my hand.
"Be a good girl, pray if you need to, you're on the right track."
I am on the right track.
With both fingers still inside me, Oscar goes down and starts to devour my vagina. So good and different, why would God blame me? Oscar starts to go deeper and my legs feel like they're going to melt, I grabbed his blond hair as if I were taming him. He puts my legs over his shoulders and with each movement everything gets more intense. He was reaching such a deep and sensitive place inside me, I felt like my walls were crushing him and God HE WAS DESTROYING ME! His tongue went up and down over my vagina which by this point was throbbing with desire.
"Be a good girl, Bambi, and look me in the eyes."
Oh God, as soon as I looked I could see his flushed face, his mouth smeared with my juice, everything seemed so good but so… confusing. When I was approaching the climax, Oscar stopped touching me.
"O-osc… what…"
Oscar licked his fingers, still dirty with my juice, staring at me as if it wasn't over yet. He raised his head and widened his eyes with concern. His strong, thick hand caressed my sweaty, burning face; I was trembling. A thick tear rolled down my cheek, and guilt began to overwhelm me. I clutched my rosary, trying to feel less dirty.
"Oh God, how perfect you are. Don't cry, darling, is everything alright?"
I nodded as tears streamed down my face, a crybaby!
"What happened? Did I make you feel bad?"
The tears fell even more, sobs trying to interrupt me. "I-I'm dirty! And bad… I-I shouldn't have l-liked it."
Oscar smiled, maybe he knew even more about me than I did.
"You can cry as much as you want, we're all sinners and God loves you for it."
"H-he does?" I replied through tears.
"Yes, silly. He wants you to enjoy life and be happy, is there a better way to do that without feeling pleasure?"
Maybe it was a good idea, maybe I could pray the rosary ten times if I didn't feel well… God wouldn't judge me for this, right?
"Well… God wouldn't judge me for this, right?"
"O-okay, just don't put that thing in there,! n-not now."
Oscar smiled as if he'd won the battle, but not the war.
"Why would I put it in? This is your first lesson, we're practicing."
My cheeks burned. The sight of Oscar looking at me like I was a queen was enough to drive any girl crazy! And if we're just practicing…
"A-are there going to be other… lessons?"
"Do you want more?"
The question was humiliating, and answering would be even worse. But I nodded, eliciting another of Oscar's many smiles that day.
"Great! Because she will need a lot of lessons to be satisfied."
summary: Oscar is a devout catholic, and the reader loves spending time with him; after all, friends should walk together in faith… right?
warnings: mdni, fingering, oral f!receving, sexual tension, blasphemy (why not?), first-person reader, manipulation (?)… I think that's all.
notes: as you probably know, english isn't my native language, so there may be errors in the writing. this fanfic has been in my drafts since february, and I decided to post it even though I hated it. If you like it, let me know.
Oscar Piastri and His Devotion 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
It's not like Oscar was a bad friend; he just wanted to help me understand how difficult it is to be a devout person. We go to church together, and he prays in such a charming way that you can feel all the faith he emanates. He loves the feast days in honor of the saints, oh God, how he adores them!
He knows how much I long to be a novice and then become a nun; he respects and admires my willpower. Sometimes he says, "My God, how I wish I were as steadfast in church as you," and I feel adorable but at the same time like an idiot… I wasn't as good as they thought and said. Sadly, I lost count of how many times I stared at my "colleague's" tight jeans, stared at his veiny hands longing for his touch, or felt my private parts terribly hot after a touch on my waist.
Oscar was a good man who reprimanded his friends when they brought inappropriate topics to the table. Oscar is a good man who always went to talk to the priest after Mass. A good man who regularly confessed sins that the priest laughed at because they were so silly. A good man who once asked permission to enter the convent to give white roses to the nuns as a gesture of admiration.
Oscar is a man who attracts the attention of all the girls, but always shows disinterest in them. Oscar is the man who makes any girl fall at his feet begging for an indecent touch. After all, how could one not fall in love amidst so much tenderness?
Oscar is sitting on my bed right now, we're discussing saints. Our friendship has evolved a lot lately, it's almost as if we can't spend so much time apart.
"What do you think of Saint Roch?" I asked.
"He was a nice guy, he donated his things to the poor, cured people of the plague, and he even likes dogs."
"Hm… and Saint Rita?"
"She's interesting, she was beaten by her husband, lost her children, like most saints she suffered a lot and died. She's the personification of faith, every time I have a terrible race I pray to her and the following weekend I excel."
"So that's the secret?" I replied with a smile on my face.
"I'm a great driver, okay? But in this sport everything becomes an impossible cause…" I started laughing even more.
"Alright, aspiring novice, my turn! Saint Augustine?" he asked, interrupting my laughter.
"Oh, calm down! He combined everything that many hate, faith and reason. He was very intelligent, although I've never stopped to think about some of his ideas."
"He was cool, he had some fucking awesome ideas."
"Oscar!" I slapped his arm and he started laughing.
"Sorry, I lost my manners," he said between laughs.
"To conclude, what do you think of Saint Benedict?"
Oscar fell silent and became serious. "Oscar?"
He snorted and massaged his chin thoughtfully.
"I don't know, I find him very dramatic."
I stared at him in astonishment.
"Oscar, he's the patron saint of Europe!"
"Yes, but I think he's a fool. He rolled around in a thorny bush to escape the temptation of a woman who invaded his thoughts during a prayer… what nonsense!"
"Oscar, he was studying to become a priest!!!"
"My dear, he wasn't even approved by the church."
"But it's ridiculous that you speak of him like that! He was an important man and still is."
"I believe that in my pre-adolescence I had more perverse thoughts than he ever had in his whole life."
Oscar leaned against the footboard of my iron bed. My room looked like a girl's from the 90s, with flowery wallpaper, posters of Catholic saints, a white desk with very few beauty products, and other wooden furniture. On the headboard of my bed was a rosary and a prayer beads, and above it an image of Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper. An eternally naive virgin, but it was all I wanted and needed, right?
"I wish I could be like him, confront my sinful desires that way."
Oscar laughed at my answer; perhaps deep down he knew that my truths weren't as true as everyone thought.
"How silly you are, aren't you? You'd throw yourself into the woods, get hurt at what cost?"
"For the same reason as him! To escape sinful thoughts and maintain my purity."
His arched eyebrows and indecent smile reflected very well what was going on in his mind.
"What are you trying so hard to escape? The times you got jealous seeing me talking to other girls? The urge to kiss me after a discreet, indecent touch? Or the thousands of times you stared at my penis during mass? Tell me, I'd like to know."
My throat tightened as if a lump were stuck, preventing me from speaking and acting properly. My blood felt like it was boiling inside my veins, my senses now seemed disconnected, and my wide eyes revealed my worst secret.
"You're a silly girl, did you think I wouldn't notice? God wouldn't want to see you sad for not pursuing what you want."
"Oscar… you're distorting everything."
His gaze met mine. Suddenly my body was hot, as if it were melting. Oscar crawled towards me, our faces were close, and he began to rub his nose against my cheek.
"Oscar, you better stop," I said, my voice trembling.
He let out a nasal laugh.
"Push me away, move me, and then we'll stop."
I didn't move. I stood there like a fool, an idiot! I couldn't escape; he knew everything, he noticed every detail and my slip-ups. Oh God! I don't want him, I don't need him, why can't I leave him?
His smile, his eyes, his breath near my mouth…
"Oh darling, you want this, don't you?"
I was ashamed, destroyed, feeling like a failure, but at the same time… everything seemed so right. I just wanted to get rid of that feeling of lust.
"Don't feel bad, I'll do all the good you asked the heavens for… I'll take you there."
He nestled his face between my legs and began kissing the inside of my thighs until he reached… well, there. He kissed my entrance through the knitted fabric of my shorts. I was worse than before, making sounds as if I were tired.
Oscar pulled down my shorts, leaving my panties still there. Baby pink panties with printed bows… silly again! But Oscar seemed to like what he saw.
"Bambi, can you feel it?" He made light movements with his index finger over the fabric; it was wet and sticky.
"I-I don't know why you're like this."
He laughed.
"Bambi, you did this. You're wet, excited, and all this because of me. Can't you understand?"
I just nodded.
"Good girl, I'll make you feel good."
When Oscar took off my panties, I could feel the cold, the neediness, and the desire. I was completely exposed. Luckily, my vagina was shaved (not that it matters!!) because I was going to wear a bikini for the first time at a party and… that's not what matters.
He places his index finger in my folds and God, how can that be a sin?! He slides his finger so lightly up and down, Jesus, I'm so wet!!
"You've been in here before, right?" he asks, looking at me with eyes full of desire.
I shake my head and he smiles again, it's almost annoying!
"Good girl, Bambi, let me teach you."
Suddenly the icy emptiness is filled with warmth and internal heat. Oscar's index finger stays there – inside me – adapting, being crushed by my interior. Slowly Oscar begins to move, making a hooking motion and reaching a place in me I've never known. He speeds up and everything becomes so… obscene. The wet noises, the sounds my throat couldn't contain, and the guilt.
"Osc… please, t-this is so…"
My words are swallowed by a devouring kiss Oscar gives me. He inserts another finger, he's very close to me. He pulls away and takes the rosary hanging on the headboard and wraps it around my hand.
"Be a good girl, pray if you need to, you're on the right track."
I am on the right track.
With both fingers still inside me, Oscar goes down and starts to devour my vagina. So good and different, why would God blame me? Oscar starts to go deeper and my legs feel like they're going to melt, I grabbed his blond hair as if I were taming him. He puts my legs over his shoulders and with each movement everything gets more intense. He was reaching such a deep and sensitive place inside me, I felt like my walls were crushing him and God HE WAS DESTROYING ME! His tongue went up and down over my vagina which by this point was throbbing with desire.
"Be a good girl, Bambi, and look me in the eyes."
Oh God, as soon as I looked I could see his flushed face, his mouth smeared with my juice, everything seemed so good but so… confusing. When I was approaching the climax, Oscar stopped touching me.
"O-osc… what…"
Oscar licked his fingers, still dirty with my juice, staring at me as if it wasn't over yet. He raised his head and widened his eyes with concern. His strong, thick hand caressed my sweaty, burning face; I was trembling. A thick tear rolled down my cheek, and guilt began to overwhelm me. I clutched my rosary, trying to feel less dirty.
"Oh God, how perfect you are. Don't cry, darling, is everything alright?"
I nodded as tears streamed down my face, a crybaby!
"What happened? Did I make you feel bad?"
The tears fell even more, sobs trying to interrupt me. "I-I'm dirty! And bad… I-I shouldn't have l-liked it."
Oscar smiled, maybe he knew even more about me than I did.
"You can cry as much as you want, we're all sinners and God loves you for it."
"H-he does?" I replied through tears.
"Yes, silly. He wants you to enjoy life and be happy, is there a better way to do that without feeling pleasure?"
Maybe it was a good idea, maybe I could pray the rosary ten times if I didn't feel well… God wouldn't judge me for this, right?
"Well… God wouldn't judge me for this, right?"
"O-okay, just don't put that thing in there,! n-not now."
Oscar smiled as if he'd won the battle, but not the war.
"Why would I put it in? This is your first lesson, we're practicing."
My cheeks burned. The sight of Oscar looking at me like I was a queen was enough to drive any girl crazy! And if we're just practicing…
"A-are there going to be other… lessons?"
"Do you want more?"
The question was humiliating, and answering would be even worse. But I nodded, eliciting another of Oscar's many smiles that day.
"Great! Because she will need a lot of lessons to be satisfied."
ㅤ𖦹ㅤ 𐬹 ۫ ۪ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: MDNI, conteúdo sexual explícito, linguagem imprópria (eu não sei se tem mais avisos?)
ㅤ𖦹ㅤ 𐬹 ۫ ۪ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒: Oi stays… quanto tempo né…
O quarto de Jisung representa bem a personalidade dele: estantes lotadas de mangás e manuais de Dungeons & Dragons, a parede perto da cama coberta por pôsteres de jogos e filmes que você só conhece por causa das tantas horas que ele já passou falando sobre. As inúmeras prateleiras abarrotadas de action figures e outros itens colecionáveis, organizados meticulosamente.
O setup dele é praticamente uma máquina futurística, assim como você mesma vive dizendo. Com monitores demais pra alguém que só tem dois olhos, luzes de led que mudam de cor o tempo todo e um emaranhado de fios que de alguma forma nunca parecem bagunçados.
Sempre tem algo novo que chama sua atenção, seja um bonequinho diferente, um livro que você nunca viu antes ou algum trequinho tecnológico que você nem sabe pra que serve, mas que ele com certeza adoraria explicar por horas se você perguntasse.
Ah, isso definitivamente é o que você mais ama no seu namorado nerdinho. O jeitinho como ele se empolga fácil, fala rápido, se perde no próprio raciocínio e volta como se nada tivesse acontecido. O modo distraído com que ele empurra os óculos que escorregam pela ponte do nariz sem perceber, os dedos sempre inquietos, seja esfregando o polegar nas juntas dos dedos, um tiquezinho adorável dele, ou gesticulando no ar enquanto tenta explicar alguma coisa do ponto de vista dele. Mas o melhor de todos é aquele sorrisinho meio sem graça, ingênuo até, quando percebe você o encarando enquanto ele estava completamente alheio.
Chega a dar pane no sistema do pobre rapaz, mas tente entender: você, além de ser a primeira namorada dele, aquela com quem está tendo a primeira vez em praticamente tudo, é também facilmente a mulher mais linda e gostosa que ele já viu em toda a vida, e que não é 2D! Para Jisung, às vezes ainda é difícil acreditar que alguém como você está com alguém como ele, ainda mais levando em conta como ele fracassava no início sempre que tentava responder às suas investidas. Dá pra contar nos dedos quantas foram as vezes em que ele conseguiu formular uma frase completa sem gaguejar ou dizer algo bobo que te fazia rir e o deixava com as bochechas em chamas. Coitadinho, se soubesse desde o início que é desse jeitinho mesmo que você gosta.
Já faz uns bons minutos que Jisung tenta, sem sucesso nenhum, manter o foco na telinha brilhante do Nintendo Switch, onde um personagem de aparência élfica paira entre ilhas flutuantes. Ele ainda tenta explicar como funciona aquele lance de juntar peças para montar coisas e sair voando por Hyrule, seja lá o que for isso. Mas, dada a situação atual, a voz dele quase nem se ouve mais.
Você continua ali, no colinho dele, ignorando completamente os nomes difíceis que saem da boca de Han enquanto tem a atenção somente na pele macia e gostosinha do seu namorado. Seus lábios não param um segundo, você vai da mandíbula dele até as bochechas, deixando beijinhos molhados e lambidas descaradas, sentindo ele estremecer todinho sob você.
— Continua, amor… me conta mais sobre esse seu joguinho aí. — Murmura contra o pescoço dele, dando uma lambidinha lenta em cima daquela veinha proeminente, roçando sua bunda de um jeito nada inocente sobre o volume que desperta sob a calça dele. Ele deixa escapar um gemido baixinho, fechando os olhos por um segundo antes de tentar retomar o raciocínio.
— E e-esses itens… os dispositivos Zonai… eles são milenares, sabe? — Ele gagueja, a voz falhando feio enquanto você sobe os beijos novamente. Engole seco. —… ahnn, espera.
Não dá pra resistir mais nem se ele quisesse. No momento em que sua boca abandona o pescoço e vai direto para o lóbulo da orelha dele, dando aquela lambidinha provocante que você sabe ser o ponto fraco do mesmo, Han se entrega de bandeja. Ele fecha os olhos com força, a cabeça pendendo pro lado enquanto as duas mãos abandonam o console e espalmam firmes na sua bunda, apertando você contra ele num gesto desesperado.
— Por que você faz isso comigo, hein? — Ele te mira, aqueles olhinhos escuros te adorando através das lentes dos óculos como se você fosse uma divindade. — Por que me tortura tanto? — Leva o rostinho a roçar desavergonhadamente no seu decote, as bochechas cheinhas resvalando em sua pele, o nariz encontrando o vão dos seus seios, inalando seu cheirinho profundamente.
— Não acho que pedir pra falar do que gosta enquanto sua namorada super gostosa te enche de mimo configure uma tortura, não, viu? — Pontua, falsamente inocente, sentindo a risadinha dele reverberar em você. Você logo adentra a mão entre as madeixas macias do namorado, Han se arrepia só de sentir seu toque subindo pela nuca dele.
Com a outra mão, você levanta o rostinho dele: os óculos tortinhos, a franja bagunçada e as bochechas coradinhas, ele quase não consegue sustentar o olhar. Você sorri, predatória, sela beijinhos nos lábios masculinos, vendo-o lamber os resquícios do gloss docinho que você deixa nele.
— Vem cá, vem... minha vez de mostrar um joguinho que eu gosto de brincar. — Sussurra rente aos lábios dele, sentindo o pau fisgar outra vez abaixo de você enquanto ele suspira esperançoso.
No instante seguinte, as roupas de ambos já se amontoam no chão enquanto você cavalga em cima de Jisung. O som estalado das peles se chocando, os gemidinhos manhosos que Han tenta de modo fracassado segurar. Porra, você tá montada nele tão majestosa, seu rostinho numa expressão de pura luxúria, seus peitos balançando bem em frente ao rosto do namoradinho, sua bucetinha tão babosa abrigando o cacete surpreendentemente bem dotado de Jisung.
Você se perde na sensação mais que prazerosa de ter a buceta bem estufadinha. Sente todo o comprimento moldando seu interior, as bolas cheinhas batendo contra você enquanto o grelinho roça tão gostoso a cada descida. Han, por outro lado, mantém as mãos revezando entre segurar seus peitos, brincar com os mamilos eriçados e continuar espalmadas em sua bunda, agarrando a carne rechonchuda que salta a cada quicada.
— Tão perfeita, tão gostosa… parece uma miragem, um sonho. Uma RTX 5090 rodando Path Tracing em 4K a 240 FPS, sabe? Porra! — Ele tomba a cabeça pra trás, o abdômen definidinho que costuma ficar escondido embaixo daqueles moletons contraindo, enquanto as duas mãos agarram sua cinturinha com força.
— Vai gozar me comparando com as tuas nerdices, é? Seu esquisito. — Zomba, mais para tentar disfarçar o quanto esse papo te deixou estranhamente molhada do que querendo ofender ele de verdade.
— Você está sentando no pau desse esquisito, ugh! — Ele rebate com aquele humor usual e autodepreciativo de sempre. Sorri quando percebe que tirou uma risadinha de você e ganha confiança para abraçar sua cintura, a envolvendo com os braços tonificados e beijando o colo dos seus seios. Jisung aumenta o ritmo das estocadas, olhando pra você em busca das suas reações.
Você geme sem escrúpulos, chama o nome do rapaz e pragueja palavrões, sua mente tão entorpecida que você só consegue se concentrar na sensação de ter o pau surrando seu colo do útero. Você agarra os cabelos dele outra vez, quica com tanta necessidade e goza tão desesperada que a maneira como sua bucetinha aperta leva Han junto ao limite. Ele choraminga dengoso enquanto tira o pau pra fora e jorra a porra morninha na sua coxa, punhetando a si mesmo até a última gota escorrer.
Ambos respiram pesado, você permanece no colo de Jisung enquanto o rapaz beija seu pescocinho disfarçadamente, criando coragem para olhar pra você, assim como em todas as outras vezes. No entanto, o “Ah, droga!” que escapa da sua boca chama a atenção dele, ele vira para você, te vê com um semblante preocupado e logo leva o olhar para onde seus olhos estão: o Nintendo Switch atirado no chão, com a tela totalmente danificada.
O “ops” que você expressa só o faz olhar de volta em sua direção com os olhinhos quase cheios d’água e um biquinho triste nos lábios. Talvez você finalmente tenha que se render e assistir àquela trilogia chata de longas horas que ele adora só para conseguir compensar o pobre garoto.
O jogo era Zelda, aliás.
Gostou? Dá uma forcinha aí! Uma curtida, um reblog ou um comentário são mais do que suficientes para eu saber que você se agradou com meu conteúdo :)
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