"moan~" [ muse of your choice ! ]
send "moan~" for my muse to call out your muse's name while pleasuring themselves.
It wasn't all that often that Asuma caved to his body's demands like this, but occasionally he'd wake from a dream with his heart racing and cock already aching and he just had to take himself in hand. And with the images still swirling in his mind, his hand had slipped down to wrap around himself before he was really even awake yet. It was likely one of the reasons he wasn't forcing his mind away from the dream had had left him wound up like this to start with.
He could still picture those dark eyes, brown deepened to almost black with how blown the pupils were, soft pink lips parted to pant and moan oh so prettily, could almost still feel those short nails clawing at him. Gods above he wished he didn't feel so guilty about just how badly he wanted to see it in person. To actually earn those strangled noises of pleasure with fingers and mouth, to actually press into that heat and make those dark eyes roll up and that beautiful brain short out for once.
Asuma had long adjusted to working around the metal as he worked his own cock, and, as much as he would deny it if asked, he let his mind follow the fantasy from the dream. Or more so to take the dream as influence and then peel off into something more.
Laying on his back, Asuma let things shift from Shikamaru laying in his bed just enjoying what was being done to him, to pushing him back, to taking charge. To taking what he wanted.
Asuma's head pressed back against the pillows, his eyes clenched as she pushed closer and closer to his finish. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer and in his mind Shikamaru gave him that little smirk that always sparked something in the older Shinobi. But then he was imagining Shikamaru grabbing his cock, angling him just right and then sliding down onto him.
"Fuuuck..." The word came out a deep groan as he tried to hold on just a bit longer, imagining the way Shikamaru would moan for him, filled so full of Asuma's cock. However, the side of his hand caught at one of the barbells on his next down stroke, not enough to truly hurt but just enough to add a little extra to things and Asuma all but growled his pleasure, the heavy sound morphing into a deep moan as his back arched off the bed. "Shikamaru~"
Spilling his load on his belly and chest, Asuma relaxed against the bed again. Only for the guilt to strike through him, white hot and punishing, for the way he so badly craved his former student. Gods above, what was wrong with him?
Shaking his head, he wiped his hand on his own chest, knowing he needed to shower anyways. But a smoke sounded like the most important option so far. Especially as his legs felt weak anyway from how hard he'd come.
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