you were not expecting yuji itadori to be so dirty, and it simultaneously shocked you and set your whole body on fire.
you’d crashed at his place after movie night ran way too late due too many beers, too much laughing, and you being too tired to make the walk home. he’d tossed you a spare hoodie and blanket like it was nothing, and kindly said “take the spare room down the hall, seriously, it’s more comfortable than the couch.” you’d thanked him, changed, and passed out in the guest bed.
you woke up around 3 a.m. thirsty as hell, throat dry from the popcorn eaten earlier and the AC blasting. you slipped out of bed barefoot, hoodie hanging loose over your panties, and padded quietly down the hallway toward the kitchen.
but his bedroom door was cracked open.
just enough for a thin stripe of blue moonlight to cut across the floor.
you should’ve kept walking. grabbed your water and gone back to the spare room.
instead you froze when you heard it.
soft, stifled grunts, barely audible, like he was biting them back. the quiet, wet schlick of skin on skin, so hushed it was almost reverent. heavy breathing through clenched teeth, every exhale controlled, careful, terrified of making too much noise.
your heart slammed against your ribs.
you edged closer, silent, pulse roaring in your ears and peeked through the gap.
yuji was on his back in the middle of the bed, sheets kicked down to his ankles, completely naked. moonlight spilled over his body. broad shoulders, carved abs glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, the deep V of his hips leading straight to where his fist was wrapped around his cock.
and jesus christ, it was obscene.
thick as your wrist, veins bulging thick and angry all along the shaft, pulsing visibly with every heartbeat. the flushed head was swollen and glossy, slit weeping a constant stream of precum that dripped in slow, heavy strings down the length. a thick silver barbell piercing pierced straight through the head, glinting wickedly in the moonlight, catching every slick glide and making the whole thing look even more depraved. it was so big it looked almost violent, heavy and throbbing, the kind of cock that would split you open and leave you gaping. a cock that would ruin any other man for you.
his big hands were wrapped around it. thick fingers, corded with veins that stood out sharp against the tan skin, gripped the base tight while his other hand stroked in long, controlled pulls. every twist over the pierced head made the metal click softly against his knuckles, a tiny, filthy sound that sent fresh slick gushing between your thighs. those same hands that held yours , that high-fived everyone with easy warmth, were now choking his own massive dick like he was trying to strangle the pleasure out of it.
his muscles bulged everywhere. biceps flexed with every slow pump, forearms rippling with veins that matched the ones on his cock. thighs thick and powerful, trembling just slightly as he fought to keep his hips from snapping up too hard. abs contracted into hard ridges every time he hissed through his teeth, sweat beading and rolling down the grooves like he was carved from marble and set on fire.
his head was thrown back against the pillow, pink hair messy and damp, mouth open but teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut. every few strokes his hips twitched up into his fist. tiny, restrained bucks, like he was fighting his own body to stay quiet.
he paused mid-stroke, chest heaving silently. then he brought his hand to his mouth and spat once, thick, wet, right into his palm before wrapping it back around his pierced cock. the wet glide was louder for a second, obscene in the near-silence, but he immediately slowed it down, making the slick sounds softer, more controlled. the piercing clicked faintly against his knuckles with every pass, a tiny filthy sound that made your cunt clench.
“fuck… yeah, just like that,” he whispered, voice so low it was almost a growl, barely escaping his teeth. “take it deeper… choke on it… wanna see those pretty lips stretched around my cock till you’re drooling and gagging, till it hits the back of your throat and you’re crying for more.”
your thighs clenched so hard you nearly whimpered.
sweet yuji, the boy who always carried extra snacks in his bag just in case someone looked hungry, who blushed when you complimented his cooking, saying this. so filthy, so nasty, so quiet because he thought you were asleep in the spare room down the hall.
the contrast made your cunt throb violently. slick soaked through your panties in seconds, warm and sticky between your thick thighs. your heavy tits ached in the borrowed hoodie, nipples stiff and rubbing against the fabric with every shallow breath. your tummy fluttered, puffy clit pulsing in time with his careful strokes.
“gonna fuck that tight little pussy raw,” he breathed through gritted teeth, hips giving another tiny, restrained snap. “spread those thighs wide… slam in deep till you’re shaking… wanna feel you clench around my cock, milk me till I’m empty. gonna fill you up so much it leaks out. gonna watch my cum drip down your ass while I keep pounding that needy hole slow and deep, let my cock drag against your walls till you’re sobbing.”
his breathing hitched. a soft, needy whimper slipped out. high, desperate, almost pained. he immediately bit his lip hard, muffling it, but the sound was already in your head, searing. another whimper followed, quieter, broken. “shit… so good… feels too fucking good…”
he hissed through his teeth on the next stroke, jaw clenched tight, abs flexing hard as the pleasure hit him like a wave. “fuck. yes. right there. gonna cum so hard…”
his strokes turned a little sloppier, but still hushed. desperate, restrained. thighs trembling, balls drawing up tight. another soft, needy whimper escaped, raw and unguarded, like he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“gonna pump you so full… take it all. fuckkk.”
he arched off the bed with a choked, bitten-off groan. thick ropes of cum shot across his abs and chest in violent but silent spurts. some hitting his pecs, one landing on his collarbone, another streaking down toward his navel. he kept stroking through it, slow and careful, milking every pulse with low, shaky breaths and tiny, muffled curses as his pierced cock twitched and leaked the last drops over his fist.
he collapsed back, chest heaving quietly, hand still loosely wrapped around his softening length, cum pooling in the grooves of his abs.
“ohh baby… baby,” he whimpered, needy and wrecked, voice cracking on the words like he was pleading with someone who wasn’t there.
a/n: i think im gonna make this the slowest slow burn ever
kento’s large hands are gentle but firm, folding your thighs up and back until your knees kiss your chest, opening you completely to his tired, hungry gaze. he exhales a long, shaky breath against your soaked folds, warm and reverent, like he’s finally come home.
he’s still in his work clothes—tie loose, top buttons popped, sleeves rolled to the elbows. the faint smell of his day clings to him: crisp paper, ink, train metal, and that quiet cologne you love. it only makes you ache more.
“there’s my sweet girl,” he murmurs, voice gravelly and soft all at once. “been thinking about this pretty thing all day.”
before you can whimper out a reply, his lips brush the most sensitive part of you—once, twice, feather-light—then press a slow, syrupy kiss right over your swollen clit. just one long, lingering smooch!
you squeak.
he smiles against you, small and terribly fond, then does it again. and again. little loving pecks, each one wetter than the last, each one dragging a pathetic little sound out of your throat. his tongue doesn’t even come out yet, plush lips mouthing at you like you’re something delicate and delicious he’s allowed to savor.
“mmm… so needy for me already,” he coos between kisses, the vibration making your hips twitch. “look at how she flutters when i kiss her… hi, pretty thing… hi, baby…”
another kiss. deeper this time. lips parting just enough to suckle the tender bud gently, then release with a sticky little sound. your hips can’t help but twitch toward him.
“sooo cute when you try to push up into my mouth. have some patience, honey,” he whispers, kissing the hood of your clit again, then lower, then lower still, until he’s kissing right along your dripping entrance, where you’re clenching and fluttering around nothing. soft, wet, adoring kisses, trying to learn every tiny shiver by heart with his mouth. his tongue slips out just enough to trace slow, soothing circles around the rim, petting lovingly.
the smooth, wet muscle glides up your puffy folds in a long, luxurious lick to press another chaste peck to your clit that has you whimpering.
“k-kento—please—”
“hush, let me say hello properly first.” his voice is all honey and exhaustion and adoration. he nuzzles the whole messy, dripping center of you, nose bumping your clit while he scatters more kisses along your folds, slow and noisy and shameless. “missed you so much, honey… missed this sweet cunt… let me love on her a little longer, okay? she’s been so patient… my pretty, needy girl deserves every single kiss.”
he seals his mouth over you then in another lingering kiss that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll. you feel him smile again when you sob his name.
one more big, syrupy smooch right at the center, lips smacking softly, and then he goes right back to lapping and sucking to make all your thoughts melt away.
satoru gojo would definitely be the type of boyfriend who motorboats you any chance he gets.
you're innocently walking around the house in a low cut shirt, cleavage spilling out and bouncing softly as you walk — it was practically calling out to him like a bat signal.
a bat signal for sluts.
he'd bury his face in between your soft mounds, his large hands splayed on either side to push your pillowy tits into his face even more— who needs air anyway?
certainly not satoru gojo, not when he's shaking his head back and forth in between the valley of your breasts, like a rabid dog playing with a chew toy.
"brrrrrrrrbrbrrrbrbrrrrr"
his lips flapped as spit settled in between your jiggling tits, he's practically foaming at the mouth — and this lasted for at least 30 straight seconds before raising his head with a tit-drunken smile on his face, pupils slightly blown out and clouding his eyes.
"ah, my favorite past time." he'd say causally before slapping the side of your tit before going about his day.
you're left with one thought racking through your brain.
"yup... my boyfriend is a pervert."
but he's your favorite perveted slut <3
comments and reblogs appreciated! ♡
repost from my old account sytorusdoll
Toji’s eyes flutter open in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains, his body heavy with sleep until the warm, rhythmic pressure on his hips snaps him fully awake. There you are, straddling him, your hands braced on his broad chest as you sink down onto his cock again, like you’ve been at this for a while.
“Shit, good morning to you too. Couldn’t wait for me to wake up, huh?” His abs flex under your palms as he sits up slightly, one hand sliding up your back to pull you closer. “Damn, what’d I do to deserve this.” He groans, eyes locked on you bouncing on his cock, tits jiggling with each thrust—your body’s just too damn perfect. “Nngh, I didn’t-t w-wanna bother you-u, Ji.”
His breath hitches as you pick up speed, riding him harder now, your moans mixing with his. His free hand squeezes your ass, guiding your pace faster, deeper, until the room fills with the lewd sounds of your slick pussy. “Arch that back, baby. Show me that pretty pussy.”
You arch your back just like he asked, leaning forward to give him the perfect view of your ass lifting and dropping, your pussy swallowing his thick cock inch by inch. You whimper and whine, words tumbling out in breathy gasps. “F-fuck nngh! Toji… couldn’t help it. You were so hard, and I… ahh, needed you.”
He bucks up into you suddenly, meeting your downward thrust with a powerful one of his own, and you cry out, your rhythm faltering as he laughs sitting up fully now to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your tits flush against his face.
Toji’s rough hands roam up your sides as he buries his face in your chest, his hot mouth latching onto one of your nipples. You’re already soaked, but god, this makes you gush even more, your pussy clenching desperately around his cock as you grind down on him. He switches to the other breast, biting down gently.
“Mmm, these tits are fuckin’ perfect,” he groans sucking harder before popping off your nipple with a wet smack just to blow cool air over the glistening skin, watching it pebble while his free hand pinches the other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
You whimper, hands tangling in his messy black hair, your thighs trembling around his waist. “Toji… oh god, don’t stop—I’m so close…” You gasp, hips stuttering as you ride him faster.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me already, baby?” he groans against your tits. Toji doesn’t let up, biting down a little harder on your nipple before soothing it with his tongue, groaning as your release coats him completely. “Fuck yeah, just like that—good girl, cummin’ all over me.”
He finally releases your breast with a final lick, pulling you down for a messy kiss as he moans, “Nngh, take it all, baby… shit, you’re perfect.”
He thrusts up a few more times before thick hot spurts of your cum fill you dripping down his balls. “Fuck, good mornin’ to me,” he mumbles around your tit, “Love my pretty girl s’much.”
with your head shoved into the pillow, your hand reaches back, lightly pushing at his stomach.
“mmph—give me a second, ohh—”
eyes rolling back into your head, you hand drops as he swings his hips harder, relentlessly prodding at that one spot in your cunt.
“kento!” you squeal, voice muffled and legs shaking, “i’m gonna cum again!”
he shushes you softly, a hand running down the curve of your ass. “i know baby, it’s okay.”
you shake your head, “‘m gonna die, ken—”
he laughs, watching your body shake in tandem with your orgasm. he’s holding your hips in place and he continues, pace never faltering. “you’re okay, sweet girl. just focus on feeling good.”
nanami leans down, kissing your temple. feeling his weight on you makes you drool, the warmth of his body addicting.
“more, please,” you slur, body flattening on the mattress. kento pulls out momentarily, pushing your legs together and sliding a pillow under your tummy before pushing back in.
“fuck!” you cry, hands pulling at his sheets, “fuck you!”
his weight presses you into the mattress. his teeth biting lightly at your ear. “one more baby, come on.”
“cumming ‘m cummin’, you—fuuuckk—”
“yeah,” he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him. he thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. sloppily kissing your cheek, his hand reaches up to grab your jaw, “you’re gonna make me cum sweet girl—where do you want it?”
“inside, please, i need it so bad.” you whine, turning your head to kiss him.
“you’re gonna kill me,” he mumbles, thrusting with a different fervour before dropping most of his weight on you, groaning in your ear.
“take it, baby, ‘s all yours.” you moan as you feel him filling you up, eyes almost crossing at the feeling.
nanami rolls off you momentarily, tucking your hair behind your ear and watching you catch your breath. he breathes out a chuckle, “so dramatic, you asked for this, remember?”
you try faking a frown but fail, your lips forming into a smirk instead. “what if i ask for it again?”
a hand playfully swats the swell of your ass, “you don’t know what you’re asking for, beautiful.”
synopsis: he watches your live streams, always quietly tipping — and tipping bigger than anyone else ever did. when you finally notice, you offer him something in return.
content warnings: nsfw, smut (mdni), modern au, non curse au, camming (might have gotten some things wrong), mutual masturbation, sub kento (we all cheered), oral (m receiving), p in v, riding, no protection, crude language, spitting, creampie, very little plot.
(1) notification: this just randomly popped into my head months ago and has been collecting dust in my google docs. sorry to my fbi agent for all the sites i had to research. enjoy (please)!
wc: 4.7K (i say very little plot but can’t stfu)
other forums
The lights are off in his apartment — the only source of light being the red hue coming from his laptop. Heavy moans and the sounds of fingers slipping in and out of something wet clashes with the pristine quiet of his apartment.
His tie, still half knotted, is lazily thrown over his shoulder. Button up shirt half away undone. His slacks tighter around his tense thighs. He feels hot. He still feels too restricted. He wonders if his clothes were dried for too long during their last run through the dryer. Or if his air conditioner is working.
Especially as you’re completely bare on the screen in front of him. Plush thighs pushed open. The pixels of the laptop not capturing just how perfectly their glistening, your slick dripping from your own fingers.
A hand is already curled tight around his cock. Wet with his own spit and precum, he strokes slowly — trying to match the movements of your finger slowly dipping into your folds.
He’s studying everything you could possibly show him through this little screen.
But, that’s the thing — Kento Nanami has memorized every way you cum. He knows how you like your fingers curled up and the heel of your palm pressed to your clit. Or how you prefer vibrators for clitoral stimulus over a dildo for penetration — depending on how big the tip is, you’ll throw one into your routine. Or the way you spend just a little bit more time pulling at your right perky nipple, sometimes ignoring the left one all together.
He knows what you like and how you show that you like something. Like how your left eyebrows twitches when your fingers curl up, or how you bite your lip when you do use a dildo. Your moans muffled while you breath heavily out your nose, like you want to make sure your equipment picks up on the sound of your wet pussy plunging down on it. And all of this, because of this little website he stumbled upon a year ago.
jerkmates.net
“Are you making yourself feel good, baby?”
Your voice rings through his laptop speaker and his hand tightens around his cock. He almost wants to nod his head yes, as if you’ll get the answer and relish in the fact that he’s hunched over his laptop watching you finger yourself.
You’re leaning back on your elbows, one hand bracing yourself to the bed, the other one has your index finger pumping into yourself, slow and teasingly.
You glance up at the camera, blinking slow and wide-eyed like you’re innocent, like you’re looking directly at him. His hand on the desk turns into a fist. The hand pumping his cock, pumps a little faster.
The sound of his rugged breathing, the slick of precum and the sweat from his own hand mingles with the sound of your middle finger dipping into your wetness. Your hips buck, rustling the sheets below you.
Nanami has to pause his own movements, to watch how you curl your fingers up, just enough for effect. You let out a quiet, shaky breath — soft, just barely picked up by the mic — and spread your legs a little wider. The inside of your thighs wetter. Nanami’s stomach feels tighter.
He licks his lips, narrowing his eyes at the screen. If he could bring it closer, get bifocals, to see the definition of your wet sloshing pussy, he’ll do whatever it takes.
All he could continue to do is fuck into his own hand.
He watches you squirm. Watch your thighs tighten and shake, the perfect glisten on the inside of them. He wonders how they’ll feel wrapped around his head. He watches the way your stomach jumps, the moment your fingers press in deeper, rub harder. And obviously (and naturally), he wonders how his cock would look when he presses in deeper, if he ever had the chance to fuck you.
“I hope you know, I’m about to cum… just for you.”
Your free hand trails up your stomach, circling your right nipple with a slick thumb before giving it a sharp tug. Your back arches — palm meeting your clit. You gasp, shaky and soft. Your hooded eyes never leave the camera.
The corner of the screen, he sees the chat light up in a frenzy. Usernames drop corny one liners, some respond with one word answers. And some are just so crude, even for the site that they’re on. He ignores it. He never found the need to type something out for others to see.
His eyes avert back to you. Your chest is rising heavily, your tits perched up perfectly. And as if he could read your mind or the fact he’s watched you at least three times a week, he knows you’re close.
He bites the inside of his cheek, pulling himself closer to the screen. He strokes are tighter now, like he’s holding on to his own cock to ground him.
Fist closed, twisting slightly at the base the way he knows makes his thighs twitch. He wants you to know that little trick too. His stomach contracts with every upward pump. He can feel it building, tight and low.
Your fingers are moving faster. His pumps are faster. You’re curling two fingers into your pussy. He’s pumping from base to top, running his thumb over his leaking tip whenever he makes it back. His balls feel tighter, heavier. The muscles in his back feel tight, strained.
He wants to speak out, make a noise. His jaw slacked. All he could do is let out these pathetic gasps, your breathy moans speaking for the both of you.
And then it happens — you cry out, soft and needy, and your body jerks in that way that makes his mind go blank. Your head falls back, and he wishes he was there to take you by your chin and watch how your eyes roll back. Your fingers still pumping into your cunt, your other hand fisting the sheets below your flushed body.
He almost swears he’s in the little filming room with you. Breathing in your sounds, helping you cross that line the way you have helped him.
He finishes with a grunt that sounds like it’s stuck right in the middle of his throat — the first sound he made since he logged on. Hot ropes of his cum spill across his knuckles, leaking over his hand. His shoulders curl in and he jerks a final time into the fist still wrapped around his twitching cock.
Without much thought, it’s almost second nature at this point. Like conditioning, you cum, he cums, and then he goes to the sidebar to tip you. Never leaving a comment, never asking for anything in return.
Your breathy moans acts as background music as he inputs a number, one he can’t even fully flush out since he’s still coming down from his high.
He’ll go over his credit card statement next month and come back to this moment.
Tipped: ¥78,000
You: Hi! I’ve seen you tip before but that amount last night was way too much. Do you want a private video or something?
Nanami: I didn’t think you’d notice my amount.
You: You tipped double what anyone else ever sent.
You: Please, how can I repay you?
You: Where are you located?
You: Are you a creep in your mom’s basement?
Nanami: Tokyo
Nanami: I could lie to you but no I’m not a creep. And I live alone — in my own place.
You: If you go through the proper avenues (FaceTime, calls, pictures) would you like to meet? You: You know, so that I could repay you.
Nanami: Just tell me when and what I have to do.
Is he a real person? Check.
FaceTime to check? Double check.
Does he seem respectful enough? Triple check.
Are you staring at him right now, wondering just how badly you want to fuck him? Quadruple check.
“Why don’t you show me what it is that you do when you watch me?” Your voice is soft and a little teasing.
You’re sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. You’re in nothing but a lacy pair of panties and a matching bra to match. The blonde, quiet tipper is standing a few feet away from you. An aura of.. hesitancy wafted between you two. His hands are balled into fists in front of him. His shoulders tense.
You would’ve thought he would be nervous, a little awkward. But it is almost obvious he’s almost excited to be here but he’s afraid of messing something up. The way his eyes flick on every crevice of your body whenever you make the slightest move. Or the way he leans in whenever you say a word.
Maybe your allure would be gone after having you jump out of his laptop screen and be placed in front of him.
He looks down at you, his hazel eyes trailing along your body so slowly you almost feel like he’s touching you. You clench your thighs at the invasion of his eyes lulling at your chest. His left eyebrow twitches in response to your movement.
“We could cosplay as if you’re watching,” you whisper as you shuffle up the bed, inching up slowly. You’ll be lying if you said you weren’t excited to get this going.
Leaning back on your elbows, as you do when you’re streaming — your fingers start to tap along your shoulder blade to push down your bra strap. The tipper’s eyes running along every movement.
You’re used to people watching you, but under his stare you felt seen. He starts to lean forward, his hands finally unballing and softly brushing your shin.
“No,” you huff out, pulling your leg close to your body. “Just like how we ended up here… no touching.” You shrug. His eyes are trained on the very obvious wet spot starting to pool in your panties. “From you, that is.”
“What a way to repay your best tipper,” he hums, amusement evident in his voice. His eyes darkening and the sound of his hands fumbling with his belt buckle. His movements are fast, but a little clumsy. Like he’s trying to keep this moment going on as slow as he could.
“You should remember,” you fully pushed one of your bra straps down. The air sweeps over your perked nipple, making you shift a bit. “I only stream for thirty minutes.”
“Trust me,” he has moved closer to the bed, his thighs pressed into the mattress as he stands at the head of it. His hands pushing his pants down. “I remember.”
Your eyes train along his body. Suit jacket has since been thrown to the side. The tie loosely and lazily hanging around his neck. That blue button up shirt, pressed tightly around his biceps. Rolled up just perfectly. You could confidently and shamelessly stare at the veins on his forearms. His glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. His blonde hair falling forward, brushing his eyebrow.
You wonder, is this how he looks before he tips you? You have to hold in a breath, as your eyes finally trail down.
He’s big. Long, yeah, but it’s the weight of him — heavy, veined, curving up slightly. He wraps his hand around the base and it barely covers it. His thumb swipes over the slit, slow, deliberate, and your mouth actually waters.
“Show me what I do to you,” you murmur, your eyes not leaving his hand slowly pumping his cock.
“Should I tip you after?”
“I’m sure we could find other reimbursement methods,” you stare up at him. His cheeks already have the faintest tint of red, from the slow twist he’s been doing to his dick.
Without breaking eye contact, you slowly unhook your bra — throwing it somewhere across the room. Your hands immediately cupping your tits. Your index and thumb roll over your right nipple and you arch your back, lifting your hips in the process.
You catch how his jaw twitches and he leans forward a bit. His hand pumping his cock picks up some speed.
You stay there for a while, watching him as he so often watches you. Your hands are still cupping your breast. Legs bent at the knees, you feel his stare at the very wet print on your panties. You spread your legs a little wider, giving him a better view.
You don’t move. Don’t say a word. Only smiling slightly at his reactions and movements. The way his eyes jump from your left nipple back to the lace sticking to your clit.
His strokes are long, languid. Like he’s savoring it. His eyes drag over your body while his fist moves in rhythm — from the thick base of his cock to the flushed head, slick with precum that glistens under the harsh hotel lights.
The noises he’s making are low, and controlled. You’re thinking of a way to get more out of him. You want to hear how he sounds when he’s watching you in his dark bedroom, his credit card statement hanging over his head.
“You’re just watching me.” He huffs through his nose. He squeezes just a bit at the base of his cock, his head lowering.
“Roles are reversed, I guess.”
You push yourself up, standing up on your knees. He watches, not slowing down the pumps on his cock. His chest rising rapidly. His hazel eyes are dark and watching you with an interest that makes it feel like you’re buzzing.
You crawl towards him and he pushes his lower body deeper into the side of mattress.
“Remember,” you lean down, laying flat on your stomach. Your tits squishing into the plush bed below you. “You’re not allowed to touch me.”
Nanami’s pumps have slowed down, like he’s still trying to savor the little bit of normalcy that he has when he watches you. His cock twitches ever so slightly when you tilt your chin up to look at him. You make sure you send him your widest, doe eye look. The one you know gets you the most tips.
He swallows a groan, and you swallow a laugh. Your thighs clenching below you, pressing your knees into the bed.
You don’t wait for permission, or even for his fist to completely come off his throbbing dick. You’re already leaning forward, your lips brushing against the head of his cock — featherlight, not even a kiss, just a breath. You close your eyes and take in the sounds. You hear the very sensitive shift of air in the room. Nanami’s stifled groan, his hips pushing forward — his thighs practically imprinted to the side of this mattress.
You scoot forward a bit more, moving one of your hands from under you. With a drop of his hand, your hand is now able to grip him as you bring your mouth closer to him.
He lets out a strangled moan, it almost surprises you. You expected him to be rough.
With a slowness that you’re sure is killing him as much as it is killing you — your mouth is on him. Wet and hot. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his hard dick. Slow and aching. Dragging from base to tip in a single, wet stroke. His stomach jumps, so does yours.
“Fuck,” from the corner of your eye, you see his hand twitching. As if he’s fighting every single power in the world to not put his hand on you.
Looking up at him, your tongue sticking out just a bit, licking your bottom lip. His cock now wet from his precum and your spit. “You’re being so good. With no touching and stuff.”
He groans and you almost laugh at the weak restraint that is so obvious.
Your lips are brushing the leaking tip before wrapping fully around him. The saltiness of his own juices dancing on the tip of your tongue.
He exhales like he’s been punched in the gut. His hands balling into a fist on the side of his thighs.
You go slow, hollowing your cheeks and taking him in inch by inch. Closing your eyes as you take as much as you can of him. Your nose pressed into the blonde hair at the base of his cock whenever you make it that far.
You use your hand at the base where your mouth can’t reach, twisting ever so slightly and squeezing whenever you see his hands try to grip on to something other than themselves. Like a little warning for this game that you’re playing. Your free hand trails up his thigh, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your fingers.
Your mouth moves in a steady rhythm. Wet and warm, the soft slurp of each pass louder than Nanami’s huffing, in the quiet room. You moan around him on purpose, just to feel the way he jumps at the sound. His thighs tense, like he’s trying not to buck. You want him too, you want to feel him at the back of your throat.
“Do you reward all your big tippers this way?” His voice is forced, the control that he’s losing breaking through. You hum around him, feeling him twitch in your mouth.
You pull back with a pop, a string of saliva keeping you connected. Lips wet and swollen. You flutter your eyes up at him, licking a drop of his precum from the corner of your lip.
“Only the ones who don’t live in their mother’s basement,” you joke. You lean forward again, keeping your eyes on him. Your lashes flutter whenever you take him too deep.
You wrap both hands around the base, twisting slowly with your mouth at his swollen tip. You give kisses, open-mouthed licks. Your tongue flicking the underside, running slowly along his protruding vein whenever your tongue reached it.
You want to drive him crazy. You want him to remember exactly what you feel like when he thinks about tipping you again. Maybe you’ll reward him again.
When you take him deep again, you make sure to moan around him, watching as his left hand reaches towards the bed. He’s wrecked — red in the cheeks, sweat at his temple, teeth sinking into his lip so he doesn’t groan too loudly. You pull back
“What’s the rule mister tipper?” You whisper. Pushing yourself back up to your knees, you’re almost eye to eye.
“No touching.”
“Such a good boy,” you mewl as you lean forward, your hard nipples pressing into his chest. Your nose barely touches his. Each of you could move less than a centimeter and you’ll be lip to lip. He huffs through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours.
“Sit down for me.” With balled fists, his pants hang loosely around his thick thighs — Nanami shuffles around you. The slightest brush of his body on yours as you switch spots. Shuffling off the bed to stand in front of him.
The wetness between your legs is almost unbearable. You ignore his eyes as you quickly shimmy out of the now ruined lace. You’ll use his tip to buy another pair.
Your knees are brushing his as you walk in between his legs. His eyes haven’t left you since he’s possibly walked in here — you almost want to ask if he’ll like to record this next part so he could keep it forever.
“Still can’t touch you?” He mumbles as you brace your hands on his shoulder, lifting your body onto his lap.
“You don’t get to touch me when you’re watching,” you shrug, scooting up a bit. Your knees settle on either side of his thick thighs, and his breath hitches audibly as your heat hovers just over his cock — still hard, still twitching. His eyes narrow between your face and your bodies just barely touching below.
With your hands still gripping onto his shoulders, you lean forward, noses almost touching again. One of your hands reaches over, gripping the back of his head slightly pulling his head back. He hums surprisingly. You could feel him holding back, his fist slightly hitting the bed below you. His breathing is coming out slow and broken. His eyes finally closing — as if he’s sending out a prayer for some restraint.
“A good boy deserves a good reward,” you murmur, running your fingers along his undercut. Your pussy is so close from his throbbing cock, and you’re fighting every restraint to not roll down on him. Not just yet.
Before he could even open his eyes or even respond, you tap his chin with your free hand. He opens slightly and your mouth parts. A string of spit drops from your lips and lands on his tongue, right as he opens it for you — no hesitation. His eyes flutter tighter, and a low groan escapes his throat. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he swallows, like he’s trying to commit the taste to memory.
“Such a good boy.”
Your hand gripping onto the back of his head moves down to between your bodies, your warm fingers wrapping around this thick cock softly. His eyes are still shut, his tongue still running over his bottom lip. You guide him to your entrance, running his swollen tip between your slick, coating him in everything he’s made you feel.
You're slowly dragging him between your folds and his fists beat into the bed. You smile to yourself.
“You don’t move,” you lean forward again, his eyes open just the tiniest bit. “Just sit here, and let me reward you.”
“I think we passed what I deserve.” His voice is shaken and his eyes so dark, they look completely different than they did a second go.
“Mhm, that’s for me to decide.” With all the control you could muster, you sink down on him — inch by inch. The stretch pulls a gasp from your throat, your nails digging into his shoulders as you finally bottom out. He’s thick, the curve of him hitting exactly where it needs to, and your thighs tremble slightly as you adjust to the weight of him inside you. You don’t even wait for him to collect himself or find a response for you.
His head falls back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down the groan that still somehow made it through. You feel how tense his whole body is. His thighs below you are holding you up, his fists slightly pounding into the bed. His jaw clenched as he watches through watery lashes as you start to get comfortable with the stretch.
You start to move — slow at first, dragging yourself up until only the tip is left, then sliding back down, savoring every inch. You roll your hips as slow as you can, watching his face for every little twitch, every broken breath.
“Fuck,” his tongue is sticking out and his eyes are squeezed shut. You lean forward again, nose brushing his. Your hands on his shoulders meet at the base of his neck, squeezing slightly. He opens his left eye, eyebrow rising with the movement.
“Look at me.”
You sharply roll your hips, earning a hiss from his swollen lips. His breath kissing your cheeks since you’re so close to his face. His eyes hooded, staring at your pussy meeting his cock.
You start to build a rhythm, up, down, roll. The drag of him along your walls has your mouth parting, letting out the same breath sequence Nanami is.
The wet sounds of your wet cunt meeting his cock fills the hot room — the soft slap of skin, the breathless noises slipping from both your lips. You move with purpose, hips rising and falling in a steady pace that keeps him fighting his restraint.
You’re having so much fun, you wonder why you haven’t done this before.
His cock fills you just right — thick, curved, stretching you as much as your body could take. Your thighs begin to tremble from the effort of keeping up with fucking him. But it’s worth it.
Every time you sink down, his jaw tightens. Every time your walls clench around him, he lets out the most pathetic moan. Almost a whimper and you hide the way you want to giggle.
You reach for one of his balled up hands. He looks like he might pull away out of instinct, but you place it on your left tit.
“I could break my own rule,” you whisper.
His fingers twitch, then his palm settles over your breast, thumb brushing your nipple just lightly. His lips part, a groan half-escaping before he sucks in a shaky breath. And because you’re far too gone, you ignore his other hand reaching up to grab your other tit. His fingers tugging and rolling your perky nipples.
His self-control is withering, if he even still has some— you could almost taste it. You’re obviously not that far behind him.
You don’t know who is louder. Nanami’s barely restrained whimpers or your loud moans as you feel him buck his hips to meet yours. His fingers tugging a little more roughly. Your hands back on his neck, squeezing just enough to make his eyes shoot open and stare back into yours.
“Do you want to cum?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then be good and wait.”
You pick up your pace. Your hips snapping as they meet him with every thrust. Your thighs are burning, but you can’t skimp out in his reward. You refuse too — especially with how good he’s making you feel.
You almost forget about his grip on your tits. His thick digits rolling your nipples — tugging a little harder on the left one. You arch your back and he smiles, an easy one as if he was so sure that would happen.
Sweat is dripping from not only Nanami’s forehead but yours as well. And you feel your walls tightening around him, you’re so close. And with the way he’s panting and rutting into you, he is too.
“I would’ve tipped you this much a long time ago if it means I could be here,” his voice is gruff and low. And that’s all you needed to send you over the edge. His hands still holding on to you, his breath tickling your cheeks.
You roll your hips, his own hips still bucking up. You want to stop and tell him he’s breaking the no moving rule. But he feels too good. He fits too well to try to stop it now.
“Well tip again and we’ll be back,” you moan. Your eyes are clenching. You’re biting into your bottom lip as you feel your walls clench around him. The drag of his cock, the twisting of his fingers. It’s too much.
Your mouth parts, no sound coming out. Your body shudders, falling forward. One of his hands that were on your tits is on your thigh as you shudder against his broad shoulder.
You cling on to him, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. You’re still hastily grinding, ignoring the fire in your thighs for the way he’s huffing through his nose and his fingers gripping into your plush thigh.
Your slick and his own precum is coating everything between you. A wet spot on his shirt. You grind down harder, ignoring just how far over you are your own limit.
You feel him. The way his cock is twitching inside of you. How frantic his hips are bucking into you, begging for more friction. The hand on your thigh holding on so tightly, it almost hurts.
“C-can I cum?” His eyes are already rolled halfway back, his head lulling to the side.
You don’t respond, not verbally. You let out a moan as you grind down on him a little harder, giving him all that you have left.
He lets out a broken moan as he spills everything he has in you. His back arching, his eyes closed shut. He’s cumming hard — deep and hot. You feel it as you slow down your grinds.
He doesn’t stop shaking.
“How was this as a reward?” You hum, your breathing still heavy. You watch as Nanami’s chest rises slowly — as he collects his bearings.
He has not opened his eyes yet. His hands dropped to the bed below, with the faintest dud. The aftershock of orgasm still makes you feel the throbbing of his still hard cock.
You lean back. A whimper leaving his lips as you shift on top of him.
“I could give you my credit card number if you’d like.”
✴︎ Bouncing on tired older bf toji’s cock after work while he drinks beer </3
Toji’s already grunting when you drop your weight on his lap. soft, bare thighs straddling his hips and bracketing around him like it’s your goddamn seat, and not the couch. He doesn’t even look at you—just sits there, all slouched and grumpy—drenched in dried sweat and work stress while he nurses a half-empty beer while Outdoor Boys plays on the TV behind you.
“You got no patience, do you?” he mutters lazily, eyes flicking over your tits as you shimmy out of your sleep shirt, already bare underneath. “Didn’t even let me shower first, dirty girl”.
You ignore him. His cock is already inside you. You made sure of it, of course.
And now you’re finally bouncing on his dick sloppily, skin slapping hard and loudly as you stuff him all the way up into your guts, whining and gasping every time he brushes deep inside your cunt—deep enough to knock something loose in your pretty empty head. Your hands are gripping his solid, broad shoulders but you’ve got no rhythm. Just frantic little bounces and desperate circles of your hips as your horny pussy slobbers all over his fat cock.
“Fuck—,” he grunts, one big hand casually groping your bouncing ass, spreading your plushy cheeks open like he owns you—like you’re just something for him to play with while he watches TV. His thumb slides down to your stretched out hole, teasing around it with a slow drag and feeling how sticky you are. “You’re frothing all over me, baby. What the fuck did you do today—lay around thinking about this cock?”
“Mhmh—uh-huh!,” you nod like a stupid idiot, glossy lips parted into a gaping O, drooling down your chin as your cunt sucks around him. “I missed it—missed you, missed your cock, missed feeling so full—fuck, daddy, I needed it—!”
“Yeah?” he sneers, calloused thumb moving higher and rubbing nasty, teasing circles on your tight rim while he drinks his beer. “Needed to be filled like a little fleshlight while I’m out busting my ass all day?”
You sob, hips jerking desperately for more as your pussy clenches around him hard. “Y-Yeah… m’sorry!”
He tsks and takes another slow sip, beer trickling down his jaw. He doesn’t bother wiping it. “Don’t even care I’m all fucking filthy. Got home not even ten minutes ago, and you’re already stuffing my cock back inside you like you’d die without it”.
Your head nods again, uselessly. Drool’s running down your chin now—shiny, your boobs bouncing wildly with each sloppy grind of your cunt down his length. He’s not even thrusting. You’re doing all the work. He just sits there—sweaty, big and mean—one hand bruising into the meaty flesh of your ass and the other’s holding his beer, still barely looking at you.
“You’re so mean…” You whimper, thighs shaking as you try to bounce faster. “You’re not even helping—”
He finally sets the beer down with a heavy clink, piercing eyes dragging up to meet yours. “You want help?” he growls, gripping your hips in both hands. “Fine”.
And then he slams up into you.
Once.
Twice.
Over and over till your eyes are rolling back and you’re moaning like some crazy pornstar bitch.
Your body jerks with the force of it, your mouth wide open in a broken moan. Toji’s cock bullies your insides, thick and heavy and slicked up with your cream, and he doesn’t slow down. He just uses your body like it’s nothing. His sweaty chest brushes your hard nipples every time he yanks you down. Pounding you till your brain turns to mush.
“Dumb fucking thing,” he groans, watching you fall apart on his dick. “Needed daddy to fuck the thoughts right outta that pretty head, huh?”
“I—fuck!—I’m gonna cum, daddddy—!”
“Yeah you are. Fucking better. You make this mess, you take this cock, you cum on it—nasty slut”.
Your whole body shudders as you fall apart, screaming and creaming around him while your ass bounces like a toy in his lap.
And Toji? He leans back on the couch again, grabs his half-canned beer, and smirks like he’s proud.
“Next time, wait till I’ve had a bite to eat, kiddo”.
On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.
Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.
All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.
"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"
'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"
"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."
You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.
Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.
In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.
And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.
"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."
"You think I'm funny."
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.
"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."
Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.
"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"
Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.
"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.
"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"
"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."
Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.
The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--
"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.
"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"
"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.
Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.
Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.
"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.
"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.
You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.
"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.
"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.
By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.
Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.
"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.
"...what are you sorry for?"
"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"
"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."
Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.
"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.
"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"
"--absolutely not--"
"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"
"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"
"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"
"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"
"Kento, please just come to bed with me."
Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.
"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.
You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.
"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--
"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.
"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--
"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"
"Oh. I need a Golem."
"Oh."
"Nice."
You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.
"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"
"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.
You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.
"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.
You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.
Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.
"Do you...like it when I touch you?"
Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.
"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.
"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."
Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.
Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.
"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"
"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"
Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.
Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.
Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.
"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"
He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.
"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.
"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.
Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.
"I can...can I? Please?"
"Please. Please, yes please, god."
"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.
His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.
He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.
"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"
A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.
"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"
Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.
"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.
"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.
"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.
"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.
"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.
Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.
"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.
Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.
"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"
As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.
"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.
Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.
"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.
"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"
"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.
Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.
"...stop?"
Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.
Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.
Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.
You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.
The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"
Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.
"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"
Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.
"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"
Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.
He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.
"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.
He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."
"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"
"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"
"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.
"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.
Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.
"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.
"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--
"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."
Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.
Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.
You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.
"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.
Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.
Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.
Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.
Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.
Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.
"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"
"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.
Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;
"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"
Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.
Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.
You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.
"...again?"
"...give-- give me a minute."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."
You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.
"Oh?"
"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.
"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.
"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"
The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.
You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.
꩜ SUMMARY . . having just finalized his divorce, a bitter kento tries to find the end to his sorrows in the bottom of a liquor bottle. but when a pretty young thing comes fluttering by his side, he decides there's no better time to get laid than now.
꩜ WORD COUNT . . 4.9k words of flith <333
꩜ CONTAINS . . smut, divorcee!kento, reader is described as slutty, age gap (reader is in her early twenties and kento is in his late thirties), sexual frustration, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, rough sex, biting, spitting, they're kind of drunk, choking, bruising, pussy drunk!kento
꩜ AUTHOR'S NOTE . . kento's balls practically shriveled during his sexless marriage so best believe he's gonna enjoy himself!!
Nanami Kento had it all.
A two-story house in the suburbs, a high-paying job, a beautiful wife—he had the perfect life. And damn did he hate every second of it. He hated waking up in that house to greet his nosy neighbors, hated driving to his soul sucking office job, and especially hated going home to his wife every night. She’d leave him leftovers in the fridge and kiss him goodnight before bed, and Kento would stay up every night wondering how to escape this limbo.
Tonight was the first time he felt free in years. Sitting at some shitty bar he can't remember the name of, he absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding band. Months ago, this little piece of metal meant everything. A loving marriage. A promise of a future. A sign of success. Now? It's just a worn-out ring that he can't throw out.
Kento sighed, setting it down on the table in favor of a glass of whiskey, letting it burn down his throat as he took a sip. He was never a drinker, but maybe it was something he repressed over the years. What else had he missed out on while trying to play Mr. Perfect?
Right, sex.
Kento was so obsessed with a picture perfect life that he even married someone he barely knew. She was pretty and nice enough—boring as fuck now that he thought about it—but that was enough for him to get down on one knee and take her down the aisle. What he didn't take into account was his own needs. All a man needed after a long day of work was some pussy, and he was no different. Mrs. Nanami was beautiful, sure, but one hell of a prude. If he was lucky, he got laid about once a month. Even then, she'd just lay stiff on the bed while he fucked her. If Kento didn't see the rise and fall of her chest, he'd assume he was sleeping with a corpse.
This meant that every night after his wife fell asleep, he'd go to his study to jack off to porn on his computer. It was enough for him to go to bed without a raging hard-on, but only having his hand to rub his cock raw all the time took a toll on him. Kento stopped initiating anything with Mrs. Nanami, opting to go straight online whenever he felt his dick twitch. For years, he lived like this.
Wake up, go to work, get home, say goodnight to wife, jack off.
Until a few months ago when his wife said she wanted a divorce. She must've been expecting him to start a fight, because her face fell when Kento nodded without a second thought. It was a long time coming. Sure, he believed he should've been the one to divorce her, but at least he was gonna be free. The days after she moved out was the happiest he had ever been. Waking up in an empty bed and coming home to an even colder bed filled him with a sense of contentment he thought he'd never feel again.
Cheers to being single, he thought to himself as he ordered another drink. As he waited, he couldn't help but sigh. The ink on his divorce papers hadn't even dried yet and he was already thinking of getting his dick wet. Kento hadn't had good pussy since he was twenty. The thought of cheating never even passed his mind during his marriage, opting the company of his own right hand over breaking the promise he made to his wife. Ex-wife.
He brought the rim of the glass to his lips, eager to drink himself to sleep, until the scraping of a barstool broke his concentration. "Drinking alone, handsome?"
The voice was soft and feminine, making him turn his head in curiosity. It came from a young girl, probably still in college but wearing a tight dress that looked like it came off a stripper. Kento wasn't a boomer by any means, but he still found himself disapproving how there was more skin than fabric on her body.
Kids these days.
Retrieving his gaze, he let out a quiet hmm before turning back to his drink. That didn't deter you, a girlish giggle leaving your lips as you leaned towards him.
"Seriously, there's no way you're here alone. Is this a set up? Where are the hidden cameras?"
College kids were so weird these days. With a scrunch between his brows, he shakes his head as he lets out a low rumble that makes your stomach twist. "Sorry to disappoint, kid. It's just me, no hidden cameras."
When he turns his head to face you, he's surprised at how close you were to him. Kento could smell the vodka shots off your breath. It reminded him of when he was as young as you were, getting drunk off cheap liquor. A soft pink dusted your cheeks, along with a tipsy smile that made his chest warm for some reason. You seemed to catch him staring, reaching out to rest your hand on his bicep.
"You look like...really put together. Like you do your taxes and sleep early or something."
The choked cough he lets out when you touch him makes the whiskey burn up his nose, hand coming up to cover half his face. Just a friendly gesture from a girl made him act like this? Get it together, Kento. Scoffing, he shrugged off your hand as he looked away. You pout as he does so and the sight fills him with regret immediately. Before he can apologize, you knock your head against his shoulder, nuzzling against him like a spoiled kitten. Guilt pools in the pit of Kento's stomach when his cock twitches in his slacks. Not now!
"Do you have a name, handsome mystery man?" you mumble against his shirt, the action making his loins burn. He seriously considers pushing you away but decides you're probably too drunk to function right now. After a few beats pass, he reluctantly grumbles a "Kento" in response. You're quiet save for a soft hum and Kento is left hating himself for getting hard at how clingy you're being.
Poor girl, you're clinging to someone who you think looks dependable in this shady ass bar. Or at least that's what he thinks until you grab his wrist and bring it up to your face. For a moment, he assumes you're trying to get a look at the Rolex around his wrist, the sleek gold glinting in the air. He has to repress a sigh—until he realizes your attention is actually on his hands. Kento's fingers are lengthy from years of typing at his desk everyday, the digits at least twice as thick as yours. Pretty veins run along his knuckles and up his forearms, disappearing under the fabric of his rolled sleeves. You can't help but sigh, eyes flickering up to his with admiration.
"Your hands are like, really...big."
He immediately pulls his hand away with a bewildered look, clicking his tongue as he adjusted the watch around his wrist, ignoring the whine you let out.
"What does that even mean?" he huffs, his fingers twitching at the traces of heat from your delicate hand grabbing his. You giggle at his reaction, slumping against him until your chest presses against his arm.
"I wonder what you can do with them, m'sure you'd know how to use them good."
Oh. Oh. When his gaze connects with your breasts that are almost spilling out the top of your dress and the sultry look in your eyes, only then does he realize that he's being hit on.
"Look, kid. I'm m—" he catches himself before he finishes his sentence. Fuck, was he going to say he was married? The wedding band in his other hand suddenly felt much heavier and he quickly shoves it in his pocket.
"...much older than you, I'm almost twice your age."
Another mellifluous giggle leaves your lips and Kento has to hold himself back from shutting you up so that blood stops rushing to his dick.
"I think you're flirting with me," you tease, rubbing your chest against his arm. If he focuses, he swears he can feel your hardened buds brushing against him through your dress. Not even wearing a bra, you're begging to be fucked. The thought of being the one to take you home tonight passes his mind but he shoves it away. You're drunk and almost half his age, it'd be wrong. All rational thought comes flying out the window when your hot breath fans against his ear.
"But, I also think you're really hot, Kento. So maybe we can..."
Your words fall on deaf ears as his eyes flutter shut and his head tilts back. Kento was never a religious man, but in this moment he prayed to the gods above for clarity. You were offering yourself up to him like a hog on a silver platter, tied up with an apple in your mouth for him to devour. He couldn't help but imagine your glassy eyes rolling into the back of your head, your sweet lips hanging open when he drives his cock deep into your tight and wet cunt—
Fuck it.
Will he ever get another chance to bring a pretty young thing like you home? The thought is what drives him as he grabs your wrist to drag you out the bar and into his car.
When you approached the hot stranger earlier, you sure didn't expect that it'd end with you moaning with his hand between your legs.
Drunk out of your mind, your gaze had fell onto the brooding man at the bar, eyeing his rippling muscles under his crisp blue shirt. Now that was a back you'd love to scratch up. It didn't take long for you to stumble on your too-high heels towards the blonde man. You were never this forward but something about him had you squeezing your thighs together. Maybe it was the silent classiness that screamed luxury, the heat in his eyes that burned every time his gaze lingered on you—or maybe it was how he practically flung you over his shoulder and ran all the red lights to take you home.
But never in a million years had you expected that man to be this nasty.
His lips tasted like heavy liquor, tongue sloppily tangling with yours as he slammed you against the door, one hand coming up to cup your jaw. You were used to bad french kisses from frat boys, all teeth and smelly breath, but the way Kento was devouring you made you lightheaded.
"What a dirty mouth, wonder if you pussy's even wetter."
He pushed your legs apart with his foot and let his hand wander up your inner thigh. You gasp when he finds your mound, panties thoroughly soaked. The scoff that leaves his lips makes your cheeks flush. He cooes as he drag a thick digit along the clothed slit of your cunt, swallowing up your weak moans with his mouth.
"I don't even need to prep you," he chuckles, shaking his head as his thumb prods at your bud hidden beneath your folds.
"You have such a smart cunt, s' already drooling for me."
Kento pulls his hand from between your legs and grabs the back of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. Head still spinning from the alcohol, you lose your balance, but the death grip he has keeps you upright as he carries you to his bedroom.
It's scantily decorated and you note that the bed it a bit too big for someone living alone, but you forget all about it when your back hits the plush mattress.
His eyes are wide as if he's trying to commit the sight of you to memory, every exposed sliver of skin and plush flesh permanently burned into his mind. Before you know it, Kento's hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, squeezing your thighs, yanking your dress up like he's unwrapping the first real gift he's ever had. Your slutty dress is long forgotten on his bedroom floor, and fuck, he's hard. Painfully so.
How can't he be when your sweet body is all on display for him?
Kento can't find it in him to give a damn about some dress when all he can see are your perky tits, so soft and malleable. He doesn't spare a moment to admire the view, slapping your breasts till they jiggled deliciously. Before you can whine about how mean he's being, he attacks your tender chest, lips wrapping around the mounds of flesh. It catches you off-guard and you tug at his hair, but he only bites down around your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud.
"Don't."
His voice is a low growl you never heard before, and damn if it didn't make your clit throb with need. Right on cue, he pries your legs apart and gets on his knees between them, mouth never leaving your breast. The way his hips grind against you is vicious, as if he's been waiting years for this. Which, in a way, he has. Kento has spent too many nights in his cold bed, jerking off to the thought of someone warm beneath him. Now that he has it? Best believe he's not letting you go tonight.
Your heat seeps through the fabric of your underwear and he can tell that you're making a mess all over the front of his slacks, his bulge covered in your slick. Clicking his tongue, he pushes your knees against your chest to come face-to-face with your clothed core. His thumb tugs at the lace of your panties, lifting your hips to slide it over your ass and letting the flimsy fabric dangle on your ankle.
He intended to teach you a lesson, but his brain short-circuits when he sees your weeping cunt. Your chubby lips were glistening with slick from his teasing, that pretty clit hidden under your swollen folds. Kento hasn't had a taste of pussy in years, so he can't resist leaning forward to roll his tongue against your slit.
Immediately he's gone.
He laps at you like a man starved, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Mrs. Nanami was never this wet for him and it had messed with his confidence for a while, but your sweetness was all it took to bring him back. His cock twitches at the sight of you writhing under him, the front of his slacks now completely stained with precum. Kento nearly forgot to breathe with how absorbed he was in your pussy.
“You're like a piece of candy,” he mouths against your sensitive cunt, pushing the tip of his tongue into your warm entrance. “So sweet, can eat you up all night.”
Your thighs tremble and clamp around his head, the action only pushing him closer against your waiting heat, nose bumping against your clit. Kento moaned as he flattened his warm tongue against you, making out with your cunt with more fervor than when he had kissed you. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Kento completely forgets about his aching hard-on, hips instinctively rutting against the mattress with every swipe of his tongue. Your lips were so puffy that he couldn't resist biting down, latching his lips onto your neglected bud and sucking hard.
You almost cry out at the sensation, reaching your hand down to pull at his hair as you thrash under him, feeling your thighs quiver. "S'too much! Gonna make me come—"
SMACK.
His palm had landed flat on your cunt.
"None of that. You wanted my attention, now take it."
The mean rumble of his voice along with the harsh slap against your sensitive heat sent you over the edge, coming onto Kento's face as your back arched off the bed. He was more than eager, lips hanging open as he swallowed up every drop of your sweetness.
Like heaven on his tongue.
Your taste was addictive, making him groan with every bob of his Adam's apple. Kento slurps up all the wetness he can get, chin glistening with your essence once he pulls away. The sudden orgasm had you panting, only coming back to your senses when you heard the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor, lifting your head up at the exact moment Kento tugged his ruined boxers down.
His heavy cock slapped against his sweaty washboard abs, leaking onto his abdomen. You had seen enough subpar dicks in your life to know that he was big, the idea of it stretching you open making your pussy drool. Pretty veins ran along the base, leading up to his thick tip that was already dribbling pearls. It was an angry red, sensitive from rubbing against the fabric of his slacks. You could've sworn his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.
He reluctantly rolls on a condom, mumbling something under his breath as he strains against the pink rubber. Should just fuck this pussy raw. Luckily, he still had enough common sense to stop him from begging you to let him go in without protection. Kento grabs your thighs, hefty length dragging down your slit as he positioned himself between your legs. With his cock resting on your mound, you can tell he's gonna be so deep in your tummy that you'll feel him tomorrow.
“I'll make sure of it, pretty girl,” he chuckles, slapping his member against your puffy clit.
Did you actually say that out loud—?
Your cheeks puffed up at his words, an embarassed flush on your face at your little slip-up. He's so heavy between your legs that you wonder how he'll even fit. Kento's hand reaches to pull you flush against him by the ankle, propping your leg up his shoulder, groaning as his cock dragged between your lips.
"You're so wet," he muses, pumping himself lazily before he lined himself up your entrance. "Bet you're gonna take me like a good girl, hmm?"
You gasp when he pushes his flushed cockhead between your swollen folds, struggling past tight rings of muscle. So tight. Fuck, he should've known—you were just a little brat who thought she could handle him. He hisses as your walls clamp down around his tip, nails digging into your hips as he tries to catch his breath.
"Loosen up, sweetheart. You're gonna snap off my dick."
Kento stayed like that, tip twitching inside your warm pussy, before he pushes forward once more. He's bigger than any cock you've taken before. Unprepared for the stretch, your brows knit together when he bullies his way into your cunt. He barely makes it a few inches in before your eyes start to water. Your insides were being stuffed to the brim. You take a deep breath, weakly shaking your head as your thighs tremble.
"K-Kento, please—" Please?
You didn't even know what you were begging for, did you? How cute. With a sigh, he pulls out from the comfort of your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief, before a warm liquid hit your bare lips. With the viscosity dribbling between your folds, you realized that was Kento's spit. Your gaze flickered up towards him but he focused on other things—like the way your clit twitched when his saliva hit the neglected bud. Eyes dark and brows knitted, he reached down to thumb at your sensitive nub, a choked moan leaving your lips.
"Ease up, that's right," he praised, using the wetness to roll his hips forward.
Your walls fluttered around him, your moans egging him on as he continued to feed you more of his monster cock. Kento never needed this amount of prep with Mrs. Nanami, considering she always seemed so...bored. He was even beginning to think he was bad at sex! But the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head told him all he needed to know. A low groan rumbled in his chest when he finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix. After so long with only his hand as company, he worried he'd come the second he was inside you. The way you were squeezing his dick didn't help either. Kento swallowed hard, trying to take deep breaths as he let you adjust to his size.
"How are you so tight?"
When his panting reached your ears, you let out a slurred mumble, eyes unfocused as you tried to look up. He leaned down, forehead resting against yours to regain his composure. Body covering yours, he only buried himself deeper all the way to the hilt. It was like your mind went blank.
"Ngh—you're just too big!" you managed to shout, eyes glassy from how he kept nudging against your womb.
That was all it took for Kento to lose his mind.
Locking an arm around your leg, he fucked into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his hips snapped forward. His pace was merciless, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every mean thrust.
"Yeah? How deep am I?" he growled, his grip on your waist bruising.
All the way in my tummy, you try to say, but you were too fucked out to answer. Just a few thrusts had you dumb on his cock, glossy lips hanging open weakly. The sight makes Kento chuckle, holding onto your thighs as his skin smacked against yours.
It had been years since he had been in a pussy this wet and eager for him. He was in love with your cunt. The slickness as he slid past your folds, the way your walls tried to milk him—but the cock drunk look in your eyes was the cherry on top. Kento turns his head to the side, pressing kisses onto your calf as he fucked you.
Come back, pretty girl.
When he notices your lack of response, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh, emphasized with a harsh thrust that made you scream. "Kento, slow down," you cry out, heat churning in your belly from the cruel pistoning of his hips.
He only chuckles, shaking his head before he sped up his pace. The shocked look in your eyes made him reach down to rub tight circles on your clit for relief. Loud squelches and the slapping of skin-on-skin filled the air, the room reeking of sweat and sex. Kento's eyes locked on the way your ass bounced back against his pelvis with every thrust, cock twitching as he thought of taking you from behind. He continued to jackhammer into you, strings of profanities leaving his lips. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. As you mumbled incoherently on the verge of tears, a hand wrapped around your throat.
"Shh. Your sweet pussy's talkin' to me," he tuts, squeezing your throat to shut you up.
His hand completely engulfed your neck, rough palm pressed tightly against your pulse. Gasping for breath, you could feel your head spin from the lack of air. You rake your nails along his back, digging crescents into his skin to try and make him let go. Kento hissed at the sensation, cockhead slamming hard against your g-spot. It was too much—the delicious stretch of his cock, the way his tip kissed your gummy insides with every thrust, his hand around your throat—the knot in your stomach snapped. Even when you tried to push the heat down, your climax ripped through you like white lightning.
Your back arched off the bed, cursing out Kento's name as your orgasm shook through your body. The man nearly collapsed on top of you, a sharp groan leaving his lips as your walls clamped down and milked his cock so suddenly. His grip on your throat loosens and you thrash under him.
You might die from how good he's dicking you down.
Rolling onto your stomach, you stumble as you get on your hands and knees to try and crawl off the bed. A pair of rough hands grab onto your waist, followed by heavy panting that makes your blood run cold.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Kento spits, dragging you back against him.
He'd be damned if he let the first good pussy he's had in years get away. Even when you try to thrash and break free, your body is too weak from coming so hard! His palm lands a harsh smack against your ass, your arms collapsing under your body as you cried out. Kento pushed your head down into the pillows, propping you up by the back of your knees. Face down, ass up. The sight of you so vulnerable with your glistening pussy on display made him lick his lips, quickly positioning himself behind you.
"Naughty girl, trying to run away from me," he tuts, swiping his tip up and down your creamy folds.
As punishment, he reached down to pinch your clit, earning a choked sob from you. He rolled the bud between his fingers, resting his free hand on the plush of your ass. Cock throbbing for release, he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust, setting up a mean pace immediately.
Yep, might die from this dick.
Every slam of his hips against yours had you sobbing into the pillows, the fabric damp with your salty tears. Your body was still reeling from your multiple orgasms, cunt fluttering around him. Even if it was too much, Kento was fucking you so good your insides had molded to every ridge and vein of his cock. Your tits jiggled with every thrust and he wasted no time in grabbing your hefty breasts, playing with your soft nipples. He buried his head in the tender area where your neck and shoulders connected, groaning against you.
Kento was getting close, you could tell from how frantically he rutted into you. His cock throbbed inside you, pulsing against your gummy walls. You couldn't resist the urge to push your ass back into him, making his dick hit even deeper inside you. You were half sure he was bulging through your tummy at this point. The action made him suck in shallow breaths through his teeth, keeping a death grip on your ass as he bulllied your cunt.
"Fuuuck, I'm gonna come," he groans into your shoulder.
His face scrunched up in pleasure, panting heavily into your skin as he buried his cock deeper and deeper. Seeing such a composed man this broken made your cheeks flush. Your walls were heavenly, every clench pushing him closer to the edge.
Screw his hand. Coming from your pussy squeezing him was better that jacking off to any porno he could watch online.
With a strangled moan, Kento shot thick spurts of cum into the condom, as if he hadn't finished in years. He collapsed on top of you, the orgasm rendering him unable to even hold himself up anymore. It was like losing his virginity all over again. You whine as the rubber began to fill up with his load, heavy in your pussy. After a few moments to catch your breath, you tried to push yourself off him, worried he'd spill into you.
"We should probably take that off—"
Kento shut you up immediately, grabbing your waist to drag your hips back on top of him. Now straddling his lap, his still hard cock prodded new places you had never even touched before, a pathetic moan leaving your lips. His blonde hair was messy and dripping with sweat, eyes glazed over as his cheeks flushed. You felt him twitch inside you when he met your gaze, the same fucked-out look in both your eyes. He definitely wasn't done with you yet.
"It's only midnight, sweetheart."
You'd be lucky to come out of here alive.
You spent the rest of the night going several rounds, trying every position possible before collapsing from exhaustion. What's for sure—sex would never be the same ever again. How could you go back to one night stands with shitty frat bros when an older man just gave you the dicking down of your life?
The next morning, you roll on your side to see Kento sitting at the edge of the bed. His bare back was wrecked, littered with vicious nail marks and lipstick stains. You chew on your bottom lip, pulling the duvet over your chest.
"Are we gonna see each other again?" you croak, voice hoarse from last night.
The muscles in his back tensed at your words. Kento didn't want to see the hickeys and bruises on your skin, undeniable marks of the years of frustration he took out on you. He actually slept with a girl almost half his age right after getting divorced.
Talk about issues.
Though his stomach churned with guilt, the memories of last night flashed through his mind. How eager you were for him, your sopping cunt, your sweet whines. He was even starting to imagine what it'd be like to sink into you raw.
He couldn't deny how addicted he was to your body. Doing this once was one thing, but agreeing to meet you again? Kento let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a few moments, he spoke up.
