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Office Calls - Eisuke Ichinomiya

“Fuck me.” “Excuse me?”

The conversation was meant to be short, sweet and straight to god damn point; you didn’t want it to drag on – let alone have it extend and become more than a few simple words. You paced across the oversized office; black leather heels tapping eagerly against the dark stained hardwood floor to pull shut the curtains on the windows behind where he sat; eager for a little privacy although you wouldn’t at all mind putting on a show and turned quickly, spinning nimbly on your toes before your hands swiped his desk top clear and free of anything which could possibly turn into a hindrance.

“I said”, you whispered quietly, biting your tongue to slow down your words, bringing your lips to skim hot against the thin, sensitive skin below Eisuke’s ear, “Fuck me.” The words trickled out from the back of your throat with the slightest giggle. “It’s not a question”, you explained climbing on all fours over the desk, “Or a suggestion – it’s something that’s going to happen. You – me – on your desk... right-fucking-now.”

“I have a business meeting in twenty minutes”, he exhaled with a coy grin; standing up tall and popping open the buttons on his shirt which you aided to quicken the pace. Scraping your freshly manicured claws down his chest, you swore you heard Eisuke growl; his actions polar to the words he’d just forcibly said.

“We’ll be quick”, you stated with a tease; tongue playfully poking out between your teeth, “It’s just that I’m really – really in the mood”, you echoed on with a whimper, fingers agilely sliding across his waist and belt to undo it, “and if I’m allowed to be honest – with this whole friends with benefits thing, instead of getting what I want from a total stranger I find on the streets I’d much rather get some from you.”

A strong grip at your neck, just below your jaw had you under control; he guided you back; Eisuke’s free hand slipping beneath your tight pencil skirt, snaking up the inside of your thigh; thumb toying through your wet panties at your clit which was so sensitive, it almost hurt.

“I don’t want you to tease me just please me”, you smirked; reaching out to open the top desk draw. He had bet you to it though – a small, metal wrapper falling from his teeth once ripped open right to the floor.

“Mr Ichinomiya – your three o’clock is here a little early|, you both heard with a knock from the other side of the door.

“I’ll be fifteen minutes”, he yelled back at the clueless secretary he had; and those were the last words you heard from him apart from quickened breaths and groans; your own moans and nothing more.

kuroshitsuji-book-of-circus

32floz

stancelot

cogito-ergo-kaboom

we all know who the real wife is

cogito-ergo-kaboom

Till Death Do Us Part

Eisuke: If I died, would you remarry?

MC: That depends....

Eisuke: On what?

MC: If I got convicted for your murder.

Rain - Mamoru Kishi Angst

Hate – it’s a strong word, but it’s true; I hate it when it rains and skies are blue because it reminds me of you. Rainy days like the one today remind me of your old bedroom – they remind me of your old flat; they bring me back to a day when mornings weren’t so sunny, bright and bold and that was a’okay because instead you were there – you were there to take the dullness and darkness away. Just like how the elderly reminisce on the days of their youth and how teenagers now days seem to not have a clue; rain days unfortunately or perhaps it is fortunately just remind me so, so, so damn much of you.

They remind me of weekends when you wouldn’t have to go into work; they remind me of days where we could laze around on soft, overflowing, and thick cotton duvet sheets – how they’d tangle around our legs whether on the couch or in the bedroom – how I’d rest my head on your chest or even on your shoulder, watching quietly; in near complete silence apart from my short, half taken breaths the intricate patterns of smoke clouds which coiled out from the end of your dirty cigarettes and dance towards the ceiling as your hands; fingers warm, surprisingly soft and tender would teasingly skim gently across my bare skin.

I’d smile – as if always on cue; let my back arch and sigh as your fingers knotted within the ends of my hair; glancing over to shoot you a shy, seemingly naive and demure look from the corner of my eyes which made your own shine. You’d call me coy – I’d say shy. Of course in return, you’d smirk – that smirk would turn into a deep, throaty chuckle as your eyes would half shut and you’d tap out that cigarette but not the whole way, knowing that I hated the bad habit. Hate – there’s that word again. I could hate all your bad habits but for some reason, even now that we’re not together I still can’t bring myself to hate you.

You’d roll me over; so that I would straddle your hips, or perhaps now that I think of it, I did that by myself. I’d grind down against you; hips moving in figures which I knew you’d like and would respond to. Your hands would move from my hips; grabbing at the skin and wander up my arms, teasing at the sides of my chest before fingertips slipped beneath and ran quick along the underside of my bra straps. I’d smirk again; reaching over to that ashtray beside the bed and pick up that dirty, disgusting cigarette and bring it slowly to my lips as you undid the clasp gently which sat in the middle of my back.

I’d smirk again – you’d respond with an expression which was near the same. You’d call me kid, sweetheart, baby girl, precious. My fringe would fall into my eyes as I’d lean forward; discarding the cigarette to instead get a kiss from you. With a hand around the back of my neck and another at my waist, you’d keep me steady, secure, safe.

But that’s gone now; and like everything that reminds me of you – I fucking hate it.

Sometimes, for some reason – I still miss you Mamoru when on weekends, it rains and skies are blue.