your friends devious giggles become muffled once the staff-only door slams shut behind you. your grip on your purse tightens, and you internally smack yourself on the forehead.
you definitely should've saw this coming. you knew they were planning something — a "birthday surprise", they'd said — but you didn't think it was this!
oiling up a male stripper was not on your bingo card for the year.
maybe it's just an average guy. not all strippers can be drop dead gorgeous, right? you'll do it while keeping your composure, and then cuss your friends afterwards.
easy peasy.
... or you could turn around right now and just wait for the actual show. that'd be the smart thing to do. no one will have known you were here, and your friends will still get to enjoy the experience.
you've barely taken two steps towards the exit when a deep voice calls out behind you, "uh, hello?"
shit.
you whip back around, glossy lips already twisting in a nervous smile as heat creeps up your neck. "i... i am so sorry! i was just about to leave, and i'm sure you guys are—"
the man — beast, honestly, he's twice your size — tilts his head. "you the birthday girl?"
well, double shit.
a strangled chuckle leaves your mouth. "o-oh. what gave that away, haha?"
"the big ass sash ya got on."
you clear your throat. "right..."
of course all your social skills would disappear in the face of this very above-average man.
said man steps closer until he's towering over you, deep emerald eyes roving all across your body. you aren't stupid — you know he's noting the cleavage, how short your little party dress is. and even if you were, he's not making much of an effort to be discreet.
then again, you don't really mind. you didn't put in all this effort to look good for nothing.
"so are ya gonna oil me up or not?" when you stand there and gawk, like a deer in headlights, he scoffs. "it's what comes with the package, doll."
before you can second guess yourself, you're in the v of his — toji's, you discovered — spread legs, a bottle of baby oil in one hand and your purse on the vanity behind you.
you squirt some into your palm, set the bottle down, and spread it evenly on both palms before touching toji's shoulders. he doesn't flinch, but your breath hitches, and something in his eyes darken.
they're broad, like nearly every part of him, and you can't resist the urge to feel them up. they're firm, too, perfect for throwing legs over.
fuck. you want to throw your legs over them.
your thighs press together before you can catch yourself, and the heat from the back of your neck has spread into your face.
this is exactly what they want from people. they want them to lust and drool all over them, to get hot and flustered, to feel special for getting to rub all up on them before the show. toji is just doing his job.
really, really well.
your hands move like they've got a mind of their own, smearing the oil all across his shoulders and collarbones before sliding down to his chest. he's starting to glisten like a glazed honey bun in the bright light of the dressing room, and you swallow the saliva that's pooled in your mouth.
pull it together.
"do people do this often? t-to you, i mean."
toji hums. "yeah. why? that surprising?"
"no," you mutter, and you let your fingers brush against his nipples before trailing down the valley of his abs.
that earns you a poorly stifled groan, and toji shifts in his seat. "you're awfully touchy."
not that he's complaining. you're a pretty little thing, all soft hands and wandering eyes, especially in that tiny dress. it'd be too easy to peel it off of you, leave it stranded somewhere on the floor while he bent you over the vanity.
you shift closer, and now you can smell the subtle cologne on him, some cool, musky scent that makes you want to bury your face in his neck and keep it there. "is that bad?"
his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, and he looks towards the ceiling for a moment as if he's seriously thinking. "mm... nah. in fact..." those big hands place themselves right on your hips and yank you flush against him. "i like it."
your nails lightly dig into his skin, and his abs flex beneath your palms. the tension in room is palpable, and it only makes you heart race and your panties wet.
"you can touch on me after the show, yeah?" toji whispers. "just me 'n you."
satoru groans into your pussy, the tip of his nose bumping against that swollen bundle of nerves. his broad hands span across both of your ass cheeks just to keep that pretty mound flush with his greedy mouth.
thank god he's finally putting it to actual fucking use instead of blabbing your ear off.
your fingers card through his hair, and you let your nails itch against the roughness of his undercut. "you're much better like this," you hum. "nice and– mm... quiet."
for the most part.
you didn't seriously think the satoru gojo would stay perfectly silent, did you?
he couldn't do that even if he tried. which he isn't.
in fact, he's a moaning mess, like a bitch in heat — all sorts of desperate whines and gluttonous groans escaping his busy mouth. there's not a single moment where he isn't thanking whatever divine being allowed him to get this close to you. it's a moment to be savored, isn't it?
and savor it he does.
not a single inch of your pussy goes unexplored by his tongue. he laps up every drop of slick he can, not caring how a mixture of it and his spit smears on his pretty face and dribbles down his chin. you're delicious — sweeter than anything on this damn planet.
he's addicted. hopelessly so.
he lets out a dreamy sigh before he shoves that slick, hot muscle into your hole and curls it. your hips can't help but buck against his face, pushing it even deeper, and his cock jumps in his slacks when you tug on his hair with a moan.
"fuck, gojo." your thighs tighten 'round his head as if his face can get any closer to your slobbering mound. the tight knot that had built up in your gut starts to slip loose, and he knows it, even without the six-eyes.
"mmf– it's satoru."
the correction is nearly swallowed up by his slurping and your collective moaning, but it makes its way into your ears and to your fuzzy brain.
your lips curve into a frown, "does i-it matter?", before they part for another (in his opinion) adorable, needy noise. "shit, i'm close, oh my god—"
satoru hums and continues to work, licking you from hole to clit and sucking. he swaps between torturing your hole with his thick tongue and treating your clit like the sweetest piece of hard candy, a dangerous combination that has your breath catching in your chest and your back arching.
"ah! fuckfuckfuck, gojo, 'm gonna cum—"
your legs tremble, hips bucking against his face, and your eyes squeeze shut in anticipation before satoru pulls away with a lewd pop!
... what?
your eyes fly open to immediately glare at him, and he can't help but giggle at the pout on your lips. "hey. w-wha... why'd you stop?"
oh, you're such a cutie, he thinks.
"say it."
you glance around your bedroom like the answer could be found on your wall. "say... what?" your brows draw together. "listen, if you're just here to—"
he gently taps one ass cheek. "say my name. that is, if you wanna cum. if not, i can always leave. no biggie."
each word that comes out of his mouth is accompanied by a puff of air on your throbbing pussy, and your hips writhe.
fuck.
you don't have to, right? there's plenty of other people willing to eat you out. of course, none are as good at it as him, but guys are a dime a dozen. it shouldn't be too hard to find one. and, hey, even if you don't, your vibrator can finish the job.
then again, the only person you're fucking right now is him. talking stages are tedious, dating apps are motonous, and hookups are a dangerous gamble.
plus, you kinda (really) want to cum now.
you pray he can't see the heat rushing to your face and swallow down your pride.
he's such an asshole.
"... satoru."
his name is no louder than a whisper when it falls from your lips, but it's echoing in his ears.
satoru, satoru, satoru.
it sounds beautiful coming from you, despite your obvious embarrassment. it doesn't matter — you'll get used to it in time.
"ah." his face splits into a pearly grin, eyes creasing in the corners, and even in the dark of your room, you swear you can see the smugness oozing off of him like slime. "atta girl."
with that, satoru dives back in with a fervor that has you seeing stars in under a minute. you squirt right on his face with a long whine, and he keeps you flush against him, swallowing every bit.
oh, he's in heaven.
he only pulls away when your spasms die down to little trembles, and that stupid, shit-eating grin is still on his face. satoru shifts and props his head up on your thigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin with glossy lips. "from now on, you gotta say my name every time. my actual name, sweets."
"holy s-shit, toji!" your body squirms against the sheets, face buried in a tear-soaked pillow. "fuck, ungh—"
your boyfriend simply kisses his teeth, and those broad, rough hands stay right on your hips, pulling you back to meet every harsh thrust of his hips. his dick is big — a thick, long thing with a slight curve. all eight inches of relentless girth stretches your poor cunny out, and each time he slides home, his tip smooches that spongey spot inside.
even after three months of dating, you still haven't adjusted. a damn shame, in toji's opinion.
"keep talkin', sugar," toji huffs. "you had a bunch to say earlier. wonder what happened?" his hand slips between you two to deliver a swat to your pussy, and you jolt forward.
"fuck!"
he chuckles, low and raspy, and despite it all, it only makes you wetter, a string of slick connecting your entrance to his base. "there we go."
"'s too muchhh," you whine, and it really, truly is. toji's all but bullying your aching hole, shoving that monstrous thing deeper and deeper until you swear you can feel it in your stomach. hell, damn near your lungs.
there's only one thing left to do: run.
your nails dig into your bedsheets and start to tug yourself forward and away. it's a cute attempt; formidable.
unfortunately, toji isn't a dumbass.
"tsk."
his hand moves back to your hips, grip tightening before he slams you all the way back down and upping his already brutal pace. "uh-uh. this what you asked for, right?"
when you don't respond with anything other than a loud moan, toji smacks your pussymound again. "i know you can fuckin' talk, pretty girl."
"y-yes," you hiccup, and he groans.
you're gorgeous.
"so you should take it, right?"
you nod your head and earn another smack. "god, yes! toji, i'm gonna cum—"
you barely manage to get the sentence out before you're cumming all over his cock, slick gushing around his thick shaft, and toji follows right behind you with a muttered curse.
thick ropes of white paint your gooey insides, and whatever can't fit comes dripping down once he pulls out. your weak body slumps forward, stuffed pussy giving a few weak, final spasms, and toji snorts.
