-> No kid. No rules. Just five JJK husbands finally fucking their wives raw — loud, nasty, and balls-deep.
ft. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, choso kamo, nanami kento, higuruma hiromi. x fem!reader
cw. mdni. graphic smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, deep penetration, mommy kink, daddy kink, cervix kissing, manhandling, bruising grips, hair pulling, spanking, creampies / breeding kink, overstimulation, dirty talk : degrading, praising, squirting, excessive wetness, cum play, spit, sweat, raw sex, prone bone, choking, bulge kink, porn with plot.
toji’s been eyeing you like a starved wolf the second the front door clicked shut behind your kid’s overnight bag. no more tiny voice yelling “mommy, one more story!” no more tiptoeing past the nursery at night with your hand clamped over your mouth so the little one wouldn’t wake up to the sound of his daddy ruining his mommy. tonight the whole damn house is yours, and toji’s already rolling his thick shoulders, cracking his neck like he’s about to step into the ring.
“finally,” he mutters, voice low and gravelly as he kicks the bedroom door shut behind him with the heel of his boot. the lock clicks. loud. deliberate. “no excuses tonight, wife. you’re gonna scream for me till your throat’s raw. been saving this shit up for weeks.”
you don’t even get a chance to answer before he’s on you—big, calloused hands grabbing your waist, yanking you flush against his solid frame. his mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and tongue and that filthy scar on his lip dragging over your bottom one like he’s marking territory. he tastes like the cheap beer he cracked open the second the house went quiet, and he kisses you like he’s pissed he had to wait this long. one hand slides down, squeezes your ass hard enough to make you yelp into his mouth, and he laughs—dark, smug, hungry.
“that’s it. make noise. loud as you fuckin’ want.” he spins you around, bends you over the edge of the bed so fast your palms slap the mattress. your sundress is already rucked up around your hips before you can even breathe. toji doesn’t bother pulling it off; he just yanks your panties to the side, thick fingers spreading your folds like he owns them. because he does.
“look at this pretty cunt already drippin’ for me. been wet since dinner, huh? thinkin’ about how daddy’s finally gonna wreck you without playin’ nice.” two thick fingers push in without warning, curling mean right against that spot that makes your knees buckle. you moan—loud, shameless—and toji groans like it’s music. “yeah? that’s right. let the whole neighborhood hear how much you love this dick.”
he pumps his fingers fast, nasty, wet squelching sounds filling the room because there’s no reason to be quiet anymore. your hips jerk back against his hand and he slaps your ass hard, the crack echoing off the walls.
“stay still, baby. i’m just warmin’ you up.”
but toji’s never been patient. he pulls his fingers out, shiny with your slick, and you hear the metallic clink of his belt, the rasp of his zipper. his cock slaps heavy against your ass cheek—hot, thick, already leaking at the tip. he strokes himself once, twice, smearing precum over the fat head before he lines up and pushes in.
one brutal thrust and he’s buried to the hilt.
“fuuuuck,” he hisses through his teeth. your walls flutter around him, greedy, and he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. he pulls back slow—just enough for you to feel every veiny inch drag along your insides—then slams back in so hard your tits bounce inside your dress and your cheek smushes into the sheets.
the bed creaks like it’s gonna break. good. let it.
toji sets a punishing rhythm right away, hips snapping forward with that lazy, powerful roll he does when he knows he can go as deep as he wants. every thrust punches the air out of your lungs. his heavy balls slap against your clit with wet, filthy smacks—pap-pap-pap-pap—growing louder, wetter, nastier the faster he goes.
“shit—listen to that,” he growls, one hand fisting the back of your dress like reins. “hear how sloppy your pussy’s gettin’ for me? been holdin’ back too long, mama. now i’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
you’re already babbling, moans spilling out unrestrained, loud and broken. “toji—oh my god—too deep—!”
“too deep?” he laughs, mean and breathless, and angles his hips so the fat head of his cock drags right over that spongy spot inside you on every stroke. “you’re my wife. this cunt was built for me. take it. take every fuckin’ inch.”
he leans over you, broad chest pressing to your back, teeth scraping your shoulder as he rails you harder. the new angle has him grinding against your cervix with every brutal snap of his hips, and your eyes roll back. you’re drooling onto the sheets, fingers clawing at the comforter, and toji eats it up—growling praises and filth right against your ear.
“that’s it. scream for your husband. let it out—fuckin’ louder, baby, i wanna hear you cry on this dick.”
he reaches around, rough thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight, mean circles. your legs start shaking. the pressure builds so fast it’s embarrassing—weeks of quiet, careful sex with one ear always listening for a toddler’s cry suddenly exploding out of you in one overwhelming wave.
“yeah you are,” he snarls, hips never slowing. “cum on me. soak my fuckin’ cock so i can fill you up proper.”
you shatter. loud. your moan cracks into a wail that echoes off the bedroom walls as your pussy clamps down around him like a vice, pulsing, gushing. toji groans like he’s been punched, but he doesn’t stop—he fucks you straight through it, hips stuttering only for a second before he’s back to that relentless, brain-melting pace.
“good girl—good fuckin’ girl. look at you creamin’ all over me. messy little wife.”
he pulls out suddenly, flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing, and shoves your knees to your chest. the new position has you folded in half, ankles by your ears, and toji’s cock sinks back in even deeper. you swear you feel him in your stomach.
“there we go,” he pants, eyes dark and wild as he watches his thick shaft disappear into your soaked pussy over and over. “want you to see what i’m doin’ to you.”
his abs flex with every thrust, tank top riding up to show the dark happy trail leading down to where his cock is stretching you open. sweat beads on his forehead, dark hair sticking to his skin, scar pulling tight when he smirks down at you.
“gonna put another baby in you tonight,” he grunts, voice rough. “fuck you so full you’ll be waddlin’ around with my kid again. you want that? want me to knock you up while the house is empty?”
you nod frantically, nails digging into his biceps. “yes—yes, toji—please—”
he laughs, low and dangerous, and starts pounding you even harder, bedframe slamming against the wall in a steady, filthy rhythm. your tits bounce with every thrust. your moans are nonstop now, raw and desperate, and toji drinks them in like oxygen.
he leans down, mouth latching onto one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress, sucking hard while his hips keep working. the dual sensation has you arching off the bed, another orgasm crashing over you so fast you almost black out.
“that’s two,” he mutters against your skin, teeth grazing your nipple. “think you got one more in you before i fill this cunt up.”
he sits back on his heels, yanks you down the bed so your ass is hanging off the edge, and hooks your legs over his shoulders. the angle is obscene. he’s so deep you can barely breathe, and he knows it—grinning that cocky, scarred grin as he watches your belly bulge every time he bottoms out.
“look at that,” he groans, one big hand pressing down on the swell. “can see my dick right here. fuckin’ perfect.”
you’re sobbing with pleasure now, tears streaking your cheeks, but you don’t want him to stop. you never want him to stop.
toji’s pace turns feral. short, brutal snaps of his hips that have the wet slap of skin on skin ringing out like gunshots. his balls are soaked, your thighs are soaked, the sheets are soaked. he’s grunting with every thrust, low and animalistic, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest.
“gonna cum,” he warns, voice wrecked. “gonna flood this pussy till it’s leakin’ down your ass. you ready, wife?”
“please—cum inside me—fill me up—”
he buries himself to the hilt and stays there, grinding deep as his cock throbs and pulses. thick, hot ropes of cum shoot straight against your cervix, pulse after pulse, so much it starts leaking out around his shaft immediately. toji groans long and loud, hips twitching as he empties himself completely.
instead he leans down, presses a surprisingly soft kiss to your sweaty forehead, then starts moving again—slow, lazy rolls of his hips that push his cum even deeper.
“not done yet,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “kid’s gone till sunday. i’m spendin’ every fuckin’ minute of it buried in this cunt.”
he pulls out with a wet pop, flips you onto your stomach again, and yanks your hips up into a perfect arch. his cum is already dripping down your thighs, but he just spreads your ass cheeks with both hands and spits right on your ruined hole before sliding back in.
“round two, baby. scream louder this time. i wanna hear my name when you cum on my cock again.”
and he starts all over—hard, deep, relentless—because tonight there’s no reason to hold back. the house is empty, your throat is his, and toji’s going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is how it feels when your husband finally gets to ruin you exactly the way he wants.
gojo’s been vibrating with energy since the moment your mother drove off with your little one buckled safely in the backseat. the second the taillights disappeared around the corner, he locked the front door, turned around, and looked at you like a man who’d been starving for weeks.
“finally,” he drawls, that signature cocky grin stretching across his pretty face. blindfold already tugged down around his neck, those electric blue eyes glowing with pure mischief. “no tiny footsteps. no bedtime stories. no ‘shh, satoru, the baby might hear.’ tonight, mommy’s all mine.”
you feel heat rush to your face instantly at the word. “satoru—”
“nuh-uh.” he’s on you before you can protest, tall frame crowding you against the hallway wall. long fingers tilt your chin up as he leans in, lips brushing yours but not quite kissing. “say it again. call me satoru while i’m balls deep and i’ll stop. promise.”
he doesn’t wait for an answer. he kisses you filthy—tongue sliding in, claiming, tasting like the strawberry mochi he stole from the fridge earlier. his hands are everywhere at once, shoving your shirt up, palming your tits, pinching your nipples until you gasp into his mouth.
“been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs against your lips, grinding his already hard cock against your stomach. “how loud i’m gonna make my pretty wife scream. how many times i can make mommy cum before the sun comes up.”
“stop calling me that,” you whine, embarrassed, cheeks burning.
gojo just laughs—low, delighted, mean. he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, your legs wrapping around his narrow waist as he carries you to the bedroom. he kicks the door shut with his foot and drops you onto the mattress, crawling over you immediately.
“why? you get so cute when i say it.” he yanks your shorts and panties down in one rough tug, spreading your thighs wide. “look at this needy little pussy already soaked. been aching for daddy’s cock while you were playing perfect mommy all week, huh?”
two long fingers drag through your folds, collecting your slick before he pushes them inside without warning. you arch with a sharp cry, and gojo’s eyes darken with satisfaction.
“that’s it. loud. i want every neighbor to know who’s fucking you stupid tonight.”
he curls his fingers perfectly, rubbing that spongy spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with lazy precision. your hips jerk, a broken moan slipping out, and he coos.
“aww, mommy’s already moaning so pretty. does it feel good? tell me.”
“wrong answer.” he pulls his fingers out, ignores your whimper of protest, and flips you onto your stomach. he yanks your hips up into a deep arch, one big hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep your chest down. you hear his belt, the rustle of fabric, then the heavy, wet slap of his cock against your ass.
he’s painfully hard, tip already leaking, veins prominent along the long, pretty length. he rubs the fat head up and down your slit, teasing your clit, dipping just the tip in before pulling back out.
you bury your face in the pillow, mortified and dripping. “please, satoru—”
he slaps your ass hard. “try again.”
“still not right.” he pushes in just the tip, stretching you open, then stops. “who’s about to get ruined?”
you’re trembling, embarrassment and arousal twisting together so tightly you can barely think. “daddy… please fuck mommy.”
he slams in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the stretch burns so good your eyes roll back, a loud, shameless moan ripping from your throat. gojo groans, head falling back, white hair sticking to his forehead already.
“fuuuuck, so tight. always so fucking tight for me.” he doesn’t give you time to adjust. he pulls back and starts pounding you—deep, ruthless strokes that make the bed slam against the wall. every thrust punches the air out of your lungs, his heavy balls slapping your clit with wet, obscene smacks.
“hear that?” he pants, voice dripping with smug delight. “listen to how wet mommy’s pussy is. sloppy fucking sounds just for me.”
you’re already a mess—drooling onto the sheets, fingers clawing at the comforter, moans pouring out unrestrained because there’s no reason to hold back. gojo reaches around, long fingers finding your clit again, rubbing fast and mean.
“gonna cum already? so sensitive tonight. been neglecting this greedy cunt, haven’t i?”
he laughs and fucks you harder instead, hips snapping with that inhuman stamina. the lewd pap-pap-pap-pap of skin on skin fills the room, mixed with your broken cries and his filthy teasing.
“can’t slow down, mommy. been dreaming about folding you in half for days.” he pulls out suddenly, flips you onto your back, and folds you exactly like he promised—your knees pushed to your chest, ankles by your ears. he slides back in even deeper, the new angle making your belly visibly bulge every time he bottoms out.
“look at that,” he groans, one large hand pressing down on the swell. “can see daddy’s cock right here. ruining mommy’s insides.”
you sob with pleasure, tears slipping down your temples. the embarrassment of him calling you mommy while he’s rearranging your guts only makes you wetter, and he knows it—he can see it with those damn six eyes.
“you’re clenching so hard every time i say it,” he taunts, leaning down to bite your bottom lip. “does my dirty little mommy like being called out? like when i remind her she’s getting fucked stupid while our kid’s away?”
he angles his hips and starts hammering that perfect spot relentlessly. your orgasm crashes into you without warning, pussy gushing around his cock, walls fluttering wildly. you scream his name, loud and raw, body shaking violently.
gojo doesn’t stop. he fucks you straight through it, eyes wild and bright.
“that’s one. gonna give me at least three more before i fill you up.”
he pulls out, flips you again, this time pulling you to the edge of the bed so your ass hangs off. he hooks your legs over his shoulders and slides back in, grinding deep, rolling his hips in that devastating way that makes your toes curl.
“say it,” he demands, thumb pressing on your oversensitive clit. “tell daddy how good it feels.”
you’re crying, voice hoarse. “feels so good—too deep—satoru—”
“wrong.” he pinches your clit and you wail. “try again, mommy.”
“daddy—daddy it feels so good—please don’t stop—”
“there she is.” his grin is feral as he starts pounding you again, bed creaking dangerously. sweat drips from his chest onto yours, his white hair a mess, muscles flexing with every brutal thrust. he looks unreal—beautiful and mean and completely obsessed with breaking you.
your second orgasm hits even harder. you squirt around his cock, soaking his abs and the sheets, screaming loud enough that your throat hurts. gojo moans like he’s the one cumming, hips stuttering for a second before he keeps going.
“messy mommy. look what you did to me.” he pulls out, slaps his soaked cock against your clit a few times, then pushes back in. “one more. i want you crying before i breed you.”
he leans over you, folding you again, mouth latching onto your nipple while he rails you senseless. his teeth graze, tongue swirls, and the dual stimulation has you seeing stars.
“gonna cum inside this perfect pussy,” he growls against your breast. “fill mommy up until she’s leaking for days. maybe make another baby tonight, huh? you want that? want daddy to knock you up while you’re screaming his name?”
you nod frantically, too fucked out to be embarrassed anymore. “yes—yes please—cum inside—”
gojo buries himself to the hilt and lets go with a broken groan, thick ropes of cum flooding your womb. he keeps grinding deep, pushing it further inside, whispering filthy praise against your ear.
“good mommy… taking every drop like a champ. such a perfect wife.”
he stays inside you, softening only a little before he starts slow, lazy thrusts again, stirring his cum deeper. he kisses your tear-streaked face, then smirks.
“round two in the shower. then the couch. then maybe the kitchen counter. we’ve got all night, mommy… and i’m nowhere near finished with you.”
he pulls out with a wet pop, cum dripping down your thighs, and throws you over his shoulder like a trophy, heading for the bathroom with that same infuriating, delighted laugh.
“better start stretching, baby. daddy’s feeling extra mean tonight.”
nanami kento had been composed all evening—polite smile when your mother picked up your little one, steady hand waving goodbye from the porch, even helping you clear the dinner dishes like the perfect husband he always was. but the second the car disappeared down the street, the mask slipped.
the kitchen light was still on, warm and golden. you were wiping down the counter when you felt him behind you—broad chest pressing against your back, strong arms caging you in, his large hands gripping the edge of the marble on either side of you.
“finally,” he breathed against your ear, voice low and rough, that usual calm baritone now edged with something feral. “no bedtime monitor. no little footsteps. just you and me, darling… and i’ve been aching for this all week.”
you barely had time to set the cloth down before one of his hands slid under your sundress, palming your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. nanami groaned at the sound—open, unfiltered—and pressed his already-hard cock against you through his slacks.
“listen to that pretty little noise,” he murmured, lips brushing your neck. “you don’t have to hold back tonight, sweetheart. i want to hear every single sound you make when i fuck you.”
he spun you around, lifted you onto the counter in one smooth motion like you weighed nothing, and stepped between your thighs. his tie was already loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing those thick, veined forearms. you reached for his belt but he caught your wrists, pinning them gently above your head with one hand while the other tugged your panties down your legs.
“let me take care of you first,” he said, dropping to his knees right there on the kitchen floor. “been thinking about this sweet pussy on my tongue since breakfast.”
nanami buried his face between your thighs without warning—mouth hot, tongue broad and insistent as he licked a long, slow stripe up your soaked folds. the groan he let out vibrated straight through you. he ate you like a man starved: messy, devoted, sucking your clit between his lips while two thick fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly against that spot that made your back arch.
“kento—oh fuck—” your moan echoed around the kitchen, loud and shameless, and he rewarded you with a deeper thrust of his fingers and a pleased hum.
“that’s it, my love. louder. let the whole house hear how good your husband makes you feel.” he licked and sucked noisily, spit and your slick dripping down his chin onto the tile. “so wet already… been craving this just as badly as i have, haven’t you?”
your thighs started trembling around his shoulders. he hooked one of your legs over his back, pressing you wider, and devoured you with renewed hunger—fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking your clit in tight, relentless circles. your first orgasm hit you like a freight train. you cried out his name, loud and broken, hips jerking against his face as you gushed around his fingers. nanami didn’t stop, only slowed his movements to work you through it, murmuring praises against your throbbing pussy.
“good girl… such a perfect wife. look at you soaking my tongue. beautiful.”
he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you fumbled with his belt, desperate, and he helped you—thick, heavy cock springing free, flushed dark and leaking at the tip. you wrapped your hand around him and he hissed, forehead dropping to yours.
“careful, darling. i’ve been hard for hours.”
he didn’t give you long to stroke him. nanami grabbed your hips, yanked you to the very edge of the counter, and pushed in with one long, brutal stroke. the stretch made you scream—raw, unrestrained—and the sound seemed to snap something in him.
“fuck— so tight,” he growled, voice wrecked. “always so perfect for me.”
he set a punishing pace immediately—deep, powerful thrusts that made the counter creak beneath you. every slam of his hips drove him right against your cervix, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing loudly through the quiet house. your tits bounced inside your dress with every thrust and nanami yanked the neckline down so he could watch them, leaning in to suck a nipple into his mouth while he fucked you senseless.
“yes—kento—harder!” you sobbed, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
he obliged. his grip on your hips turned bruising as he pounded into you, muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing with every savage snap of his hips. sweat already beaded on his forehead, blond hair falling messily over his eyes, but he never looked away from your face—watching every moan, every tear of pleasure that slipped down your cheeks.
“you’re taking me so well, sweetheart,” he praised between gritted teeth, voice rough with restraint and need. “look at how beautifully you stretch around my cock. my perfect little wife… letting me ruin her right here on the counter where we make our son’s breakfast.”
the filthy words in his usually polite voice sent heat rushing through you. you clenched hard around him and he groaned, hips stuttering for a moment before he doubled down—fucking you even rougher, the wet squelch of your pussy obscene in the open kitchen.
he pulled out suddenly, spun you around, and bent you over the counter. your chest pressed against the cool marble as he kicked your legs wider and slammed back in from behind. the new angle had you seeing stars, his cock dragging perfectly against that spongy spot inside you with every thrust.
“louder, darling. scream for me.” one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your ass as he railed you mercilessly. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your clit filled the room, mixed with your broken cries and his low, guttural groans. “that’s it… let it all out. no one’s here to stop us.”
your second orgasm ripped through you without warning. you wailed his name, pussy gushing around his thick cock, legs shaking so badly he had to hold you up. nanami fucked you straight through it, praising you the entire time.
“good girl—such a good fucking girl. squeezing me so tight… you’re going to make me cum if you keep that up.”
but he didn’t stop. he pulled out, turned you to face him again, and lifted you clean off the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. he carried you the few steps to the kitchen table and laid you down on your back, plates and napkins clattering to the floor. he hooked your legs over his shoulders and drove back in, folding you in half.
the position was devastating. he was so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. nanami’s pace turned feral—long, punishing strokes that had the heavy wooden table scraping across the floor. his abs flexed with every thrust, shirt half-unbuttoned and clinging to his sweat-damp skin.
“you feel that, my love?” he panted, pressing a hand down on your lower belly so you could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. “i’m so deep… going to fill you up until you’re dripping down your thighs for days.”
you were crying now—overwhelmed, overstimulated, blissed out. “please—kento—cum inside me—”
“not yet,” he growled, leaning down to bite your neck. “i want one more. give me one more, sweetheart. let me feel you fall apart on my cock again.”
he reached between you, thumb finding your swollen clit, rubbing tight, slick circles while he hammered into you. your third orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. you screamed—loud, hoarse, unrestrained—body seizing, pussy clamping down around him like a vice. nanami groaned deep in his chest, hips stuttering as he finally let go.
he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your womb. he kept grinding deep, pushing every drop inside you, whispering broken praises against your sweat-slick skin.
“perfect… so perfect for me… my beautiful wife… taking everything i give you…”
even after he finished, he stayed buried inside you, rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles to keep his cum deep. he kissed you softly—forehead, cheeks, lips—then rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.
“we’re not done,” he murmured, voice still rough. “i’m taking you on every surface in this house tonight. the couch next… then our bed… maybe the shower if you can still stand.”
he pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum leaked from your swollen pussy onto the kitchen table. nanami scooped you up bridal-style, kissing your temple as he carried you toward the living room.
“i love you,” he said quietly, reverently. then, with a small, wicked smile that only you ever got to see: “but i’m going to fuck you like i don’t until the sun comes up, darling. scream as loud as you want. your husband needs to remind this pretty body exactly who it belongs to.”
choso stood at the doorway long after your mother’s car had disappeared down the street, fingers twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. the house was finally quiet—no cartoons playing in the background, no little voice calling for “papa” or “mama.” just the two of you.
he turned to you slowly, cheeks already flushed that pretty shade of pink. his dark hair fell messily over his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but directly at you.
“um… babe?” his voice was soft, almost shy. “now that… she’s gone for the night… can we…?” he swallowed hard, ears burning red. “i mean… if you want to… can i have you? please?”
the polite little plea, the way he looked like he might actually die of embarrassment if you said no, made heat bloom low in your belly. you smiled, stepping close and sliding your arms around his neck.
“yes, choso. i want you. take me.”
the switch flipped instantly.
his hands grabbed your waist—gentle at first—then suddenly tightened, pulling you flush against him as his mouth crashed into yours. the kiss was desperate, hungry, all tongue and soft whimpers vibrating against your lips. he walked you backwards toward the bedroom without breaking it, kicking the door open with his foot.
but right as you reached the hallway, he pulled back just enough to breathe against your mouth, voice shaky with need.
“what about… the kiddo’s room?” he whispered, eyes dark and glassy. “we could… on their little bed—”
your eyes snapped wide, giving him a severe, shocked look.
choso froze immediately, panic flashing across his face. “no, no—i was just joking! i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it—please, forget i said that. bedroom. only our bedroom. i promise.”
you nodded once, still giving him that stern stare, and he whimpered quietly—an actual submissive little sound—before he scooped you up and carried you the rest of the way, kicking your bedroom door shut behind him with way more force than necessary.
he laid you on the bed almost reverently, but the second your back hit the mattress his hands turned greedy. he yanked your shirt over your head, shoved your shorts and panties down in one rough tug, and stared at your bare body like he was starving.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice trembling with adoration even as he shoved two thick fingers inside you without warning. “so wet already… did you miss me this much, baby?”
you moaned loudly—finally allowed to—and choso’s eyes rolled back at the sound. his fingers pumped fast, curling hard against that spongy spot inside you, thumb rubbing messy circles on your clit. nothing about the way he touched you was gentle. it was frantic, almost punishing, like he’d been holding back for months.
“i know, i know,” he panted, leaning down to suck a harsh mark into your neck while his fingers drove deeper, faster. “i’m sorry, you just feel so good. i can’t stop. please don’t make me stop.”
he added a third finger, stretching you open roughly, scissoring them while his palm slapped wetly against your clit with every thrust. your hips bucked and he pressed you down with his other hand, holding you still so he could wreck you exactly how he wanted.
“good girl… such a good wife,” he murmured sweetly against your ear, voice so soft and loving while his fingers fucked you loud and sloppy. “making all these pretty noises just for me. louder, baby. please be louder.”
your first orgasm hit you like a slap. you cried out, thighs shaking, pussy gushing around his fingers. choso moaned with you, eyes half-lidded in bliss as he kept pumping through it, drawing it out until you were twitching and oversensitive.
he didn’t even give you time to breathe.
choso stripped his clothes off in seconds, cock springing free—thick, flushed dark, already drooling precum down the shaft. he stroked himself once, twice, then climbed over you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half.
“i love you,” he whispered tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
then he slammed into you in one brutal thrust.
you screamed—raw, unrestrained—back arching clean off the bed. choso groaned loud, burying his face in your neck as he started fucking you like a man possessed. every stroke was deep, punishing, his heavy balls slapping loudly against your ass with wet, filthy smacks. the bed creaked violently under the force.
“so tight—fuck—so warm and perfect,” he gasped, voice cracking with pleasure even as his hips snapped forward mercilessly. “i missed this pussy so much. missed making you feel good. you’re squeezing me so nicely, baby. thank you—thank you—”
his words stayed so sweet, so full of worship, but his body was anything but. he pounded into you with raw power, hips rolling in deep, devastating circles that made his cock drag against every sensitive ridge inside you. sweat dripped from his hair onto your chest. his abs flexed hard with every thrust, muscles in his arms and shoulders bulging as he held your legs open wide.
“i’m sorry,” he whimpered, but he only fucked you harder, grinding the fat head of his cock right against your cervix on every stroke. “i can’t be gentle right now. you feel too good. please let me stay deep—please, i need it.”
he shifted angles suddenly, hitting that perfect spot over and over until your eyes rolled back and another orgasm ripped through you. you wailed his name, pussy spasming wildly around his thick length, and choso moaned like he was the one cumming.
“yes—yes, just like that. cum on me again, my love. you’re so beautiful when you fall apart for me.”
he didn’t slow down. he fucked you straight through it, hips snapping relentlessly, the wet squelching of your soaked pussy filling the entire bedroom. he leaned down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he railed you, teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt.
then he pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up into a deep arch. he pushed back in with a broken groan, one hand fisting your hair, the other gripping your ass hard enough to leave marks.
“look at you… so pretty like this,” he praised breathlessly, voice soft and adoring. “my perfect wife. taking me so well. i love you—i love you so much—”
but his thrusts were savage. he was slamming into you so hard the headboard banged rhythmically against the wall, balls slapping your clit with every brutal stroke. your moans turned into sobs of pleasure, drool soaking the pillow as he rearranged your insides.
“choso—gonna cum again—!”
“please—please cum,” he begged, voice cracking. “i want to feel it. i need it. milk my cock, baby. be good for me.”
you shattered for the third time, screaming into the mattress. choso’s hips stuttered, a high, needy whine escaping his throat as your walls clamped down around him. but he still didn’t stop—he fucked you through it, harder, faster, chasing his own release.
“i’m close—i’m so close,” he panted, leaning over your back, lips brushing your ear. “can i cum inside? please, my love? i want to fill you up so deep. want you dripping with me all night.”
he buried himself to the hilt with a broken cry, thick ropes of cum flooding your womb in heavy, pulsing spurts. he kept grinding deep, pushing every drop inside you, whimpering soft praises the whole time.
“thank you… thank you, baby… you’re so good to me… such a perfect mommy… i love you…”
even after he finished, he stayed buried inside, rolling his hips in slow, lazy thrusts to keep his cum deep. he kissed along your spine, gentle and reverent, while his cock continued to twitch and leak inside your ruined pussy.
“can we go again?” he whispered shyly after a minute, cheeks flushed. “i… i still need you. please?”
you nodded weakly, and choso’s eyes lit up with that same desperate hunger.
he pulled out, flipped you onto your back, and slid back in with one smooth, brutal thrust.
“i’ll be gentler this time,” he promised softly, brushing hair from your sweaty face.
then he started fucking you even harder than before—deep, punishing strokes that made your eyes water and your voice crack—while whispering the sweetest words against your lips the entire time.
the night was still young, and choso had no intention of letting you rest anytime soon.
higuruma hiromi had been counting down the hours.
for once, the courthouse calendar had aligned perfectly: a rare full day off, no emergencies, no late-night case files, and your little one safely tucked away at school until late afternoon. the house was quiet, sunlight pouring through the windows, and—most importantly—hiromi wasn’t exhausted. he felt wired. alive. hungry.
you were still in the kitchen rinsing the last of the breakfast dishes when you felt him behind you. no warning. no gentle “good morning, darling.” just two strong hands gripping your hips and a hard, insistent cock pressing against your ass through his sweatpants.
“hiromi—” you gasped, nearly dropping the plate.
“shh.” his voice was low, rougher than usual, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “we have the entire day. no work. no kid. no excuses.” he rolled his hips once, letting you feel exactly how hard he already was. “and i’m not tired today, sweetheart. not even a little.”
he spun you around, lifted you onto the counter in one smooth motion, and kissed you like a man who’d been starved for months. deep, filthy, tongue stroking yours while his hands shoved your robe open. the cool morning air hit your bare skin and you shivered—then moaned loud when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch.
“fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled against your breast. “been thinking about bending you over every surface in this house since i woke up.”
he didn’t bother with more foreplay. hiromi yanked your panties to the side, freed his thick cock, and pushed in with one brutal thrust. the stretch made you cry out—raw and loud—and the sound seemed to ignite something feral in him.
“that’s it,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “make noise. scream if you want. no one’s here to stop us.”
he set a punishing rhythm immediately. hips snapping forward hard enough to make the dishes rattle in the sink behind you. every thrust was deep, heavy, the fat head of his cock kissing your cervix on every stroke. the wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the quiet kitchen, filthy and loud.
“hiromi—oh my god—slow down—”
“can’t,” he panted, voice strained with pleasure. “you feel too fucking good. been holding back for weeks. today i’m taking what’s mine.”
he hooked your legs over his elbows, folding you harder, and drove in even deeper. the new angle had you seeing stars, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he pounded that perfect spot inside you without mercy. sweat already beaded on his forehead, dark hair falling messily into his eyes, but he never looked away from your face—watching every expression, every tear of overwhelming pleasure.
your first orgasm hit fast and violent. you screamed his name, pussy clamping down around him like a vice, gushing slick down his cock and onto the counter. hiromi groaned deep in his chest but didn’t slow. he fucked you straight through it, hips snapping relentlessly, drawing out every pulse until your legs shook.
“good girl… such a good fucking wife,” he praised, voice wrecked. “look at you creaming all over me already. we’re just getting started.”
he pulled out, spun you around, and bent you over the counter. your chest pressed against the cool marble as he kicked your legs wider and slammed back in from behind. the force made your toes curl. hiromi gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, using them as leverage to rail you even harder—long, punishing strokes that had the entire counter shaking.
“hear that?” he growled, one hand fisting your hair to pull your head back. “listen to how sloppy your pussy is for me. so wet. so loud. been dreaming about this sound for weeks.”
you could only sob in response, drooling onto the counter, pleasure bordering on too much. he reached around, rough fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, mean circles while his cock continued its relentless assault.
your second orgasm tore through you even harder. you wailed, thighs trembling violently, and hiromi moaned like he was the one falling apart—hips stuttering for half a second before he kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks with savage intensity.
he carried you—still impaled on his cock—to the living room couch. laid you on your back, threw your legs over his shoulders, and folded you in half again. the new position let him sink impossibly deeper. you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
“look,” he rasped, pressing a hand down on your lower belly so you could see the bulge of his cock moving inside you with every thrust. “watch how deep i’m fucking you, baby. this is what you do to me. this is how badly i need you.”
he was sweating, muscles in his arms and chest flexing with every brutal snap of his hips. the couch creaked dangerously beneath you. his balls slapped loudly against your ass, the wet, obscene sounds mixing with your hoarse cries and his low, guttural groans.
“hiromi—i can’t—too much—”
“you can,” he growled, leaning down to bite your neck. “you’re going to cum on my cock again. right now.”
he angled his hips and hammered that spot mercilessly. your third orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. you screamed—loud, broken, unrestrained—body seizing, pussy gushing around his thick length. hiromi cursed under his breath, hips losing rhythm for a moment as your walls milked him.
but he still didn’t stop.
he pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up into a deep arch. he pushed back in with a broken moan, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep your chest down while the other gripped your ass hard.
“arch just like that—fuck—perfect,” he panted. then he started fucking you like a man possessed—short, brutal snaps of his hips that had the couch slamming against the wall. every thrust punched the air out of your lungs. tears streamed down your face from the overwhelming pleasure, but you pushed back against him, greedy for more.
“you’re taking me so well,” he praised between gritted teeth, voice rough with adoration and lust. “my beautiful wife. my perfect little hole. gonna fill you up until you’re dripping for days.”
he reached down, rubbed your oversensitive clit again, and you shattered for the fourth time—screaming into the cushion, body convulsing. hiromi finally let himself go with a deep, animalistic groan. he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of cum flooding your womb in heavy pulses. he kept grinding deep, pushing every drop inside you, hips twitching with aftershocks.
for a moment the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the wet drip of his cum leaking down your thighs.
he stayed inside you, softening only slightly, and started slow, lazy rolls of his hips—stirring his cum deeper while he kissed along your spine.
“shower,” he murmured against your skin, voice still dark with need. “then the bedroom. then maybe my office desk. we have hours, sweetheart… and i’m nowhere near finished with you.”
he pulled out with a filthy wet sound, scooped you up like you weighed nothing, and carried you toward the bathroom. cum dripped down your legs the entire way, but hiromi just smirked—tired lawyer nowhere in sight.
today, on his rare day off, higuruma hiromi was going to fuck his wife raw in every room of the house, and you were going to scream his name until your voice gave out.
