Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor.
Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap.
Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.
The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.
You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”
Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.
Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”
“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”
You’re going to fkning murder him.
Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.
“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.
“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”
“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”
You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.
Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’
Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”
Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”
You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”
Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”
“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”
Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”
You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”
Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”
Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”
You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”
You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.
“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”
Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”
Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”
Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.
Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”
Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”
You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.
“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”
He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”
Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”
Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.
He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.
Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.
“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.
His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.
“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”
You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”
Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”
Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”
Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”
You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”
Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”
Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.
Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.
Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”
You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”
Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.
Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”
You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.
You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”
Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”
Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.
Whatta small world, indeed.
a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew
*lowkey yandere so proceed with caution if that’s not for you*
Word Count: 800ish
You knew this wasn’t a normal dinner: no Soap, no Gaz, just your husband, Simon, and you. John’s hand was firm, massaging your upper thigh. He’s making conversation that Simon seems to barely respond to. Across the table Simon sat tense, his scowl ever-present, eyes directed towards your husband, yet his body turned toward you.
His elbows were on the table, hands clasped together, covering half of his face; he looked like he wanted his mask back on. He’d shown you his face plenty of times, but the feeling of being so exposed was overwhelming. Simon didn’t like people reading him, or seeing him too clearly, even you. There were things he was still trying to… work through. You were still watching him when you realized everyone’s plates were finished.
You snapped up, blinking away your clouded mind. You went to clear the table, but Simon held up a firm hand at you, “Don’t worry, bird. Sit.” This wasn’t an unusual interaction, but something in his tone held a bite to it tonight.
You sit back down smoothing your pants back down. You looked toward your husband, his eyes locked on Simon. “What the hell is going on with you two today?” You shook your head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, dove.” He said to you, kissing your forehead. He tried to dismiss your worries, but you only grew more suspicious.
This dinner, no this week, has been so god damn weird, Simon’s been half-way ignoring you, and your husband's acting strange. You had an active sex life, but this week nothing. Not a hug that lasted a bit too long, or wandering hands. You tried to initiate, but John just smoothly disengaged each time. You didn’t pay any mind to it, you knew his libido had decreased a bit, and that was fine, but you were still insatiable.
You were frustrated, in more senses than one.
As Simon returns, you let your hair out of the constraints you put it in while cooking, ruffling it to look presentable. You look back up to find Simon’s eyes narrowed on you, and the heat that was within your husband's lieutenant's gaze struck you. Your breath caught, looking at Simon with wide-eyes as his jaw clenched. You quickly lowered your gaze remembering yourself. John looked between both of you, somehow more sitting deeper in his chair. He took a sip of his drink, eyes darkening as he watched his game unfold.
You can feel your husband's steady spread legs against yours, but you can also feel Simon’s hulking form, his long legs whispering against yours under the table.
“Y’know. I trust no man like I trust Simon.” John said, swirling his drink. His words sit heavy in the room like smoke from one of his cigars. John doesn’t just say things without intent or purpose. Simon shoots a glare at your husband. You glance between them with furrowed brows as John’s hand squeezes higher up your thigh again, firmer now. You squirm under his touch, heat crawling up your neck.
“You okay, bird?” Simon asks suddenly, voice low.
Despite that you’re not, that your throat is dry, your neck is hot, and you can barely catch your breath, you nod for him.
“She’s just tense,” John says, taking another sip. “Needs a good… release.”
Your jaw drops, and you turn to him. Surely he didn’t just say that, but his proud face answers otherwise.
Simon leans forward, voice low. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Captain.”
“Am I?” John asks provocatively.
“What are you doing, John?” you bite out.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares in his glass. He then finally answers.
“Giving us all what we want.” He finally says.
“John…” Simon growled low. “This ain’t right.”
“Wanna talk about wrong, Lieutenant? I don’t think putin’ a camera in your Captain's bedroom to watch his wife get undressed, fucked, and touch that pretty lil cunt of ‘ers is what I’d call upright either, aye?”
You freeze. You look at Simon, his stare dark and unwavering.
“You think I didn’t find it?” John continues. He chuckles, he’s amused. “I moved it for ya. Didn’t ya notice? Got you a better angle.”
“Fuck off.” Simon bites.
Your lips tighten, your head drops, thighs pressing together under the table. Heat coils low in your belly as realization hits you: Simon’s seen you like that. Heard the breathless whimpers, watched the way you fall apart when you think you’re alone, and with John. Bound, gagged, fucked out, and completely bare. Fuck.
You clench your thighs harder, rubbing them together, trying to soothe the ache. This should scare you; they should scare you. But it doesn't, they don't. God what is wrong with you?
Your trance is broken when John hooks a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. He studies your expression, then turns your face toward Simon. At first, Simon looks at you uncertain, like he’s waiting for you to be angry or ashamed. Guilt flickers across his features. He’s fighting to meet your gaze.
But then he finally sees it. He looks into your eyes and sees your desire. The true depths of it. You had already looked fucked out, and they hadn't even touched you yet.
“She wants you,” John says, voice low. “Can’t you see?”
“She’s your wife.” Simon argues.
“I think we both know she’s er own woman.”
authors note: omg guys hey guys this is so nerve wrecking. I tagged the people i could find that reblogged it or commented(lmk if you want to be removed). anyway thanks for liking the first one!! y'all had me blushing!! okay bye love you guys<3
Hello!! I just came across your fic and wondering if there's a reason to use Gaz callsign instead of his name "Kyle" in the 141xreader fic? Since i see the others are using their names instead of callsign. Im curious /gen
I used Johnny and Kyle’s callsigns just to create a bit of distance between the reader and them since I’m focusing more on John x reader x Simon. There was no deep meaning to it, or malice intent!
Edit: I did go back and reread it and there was one time that I used Johnny instead of soap so you’re totally right. I’ll fix that sorry!
EDIT AGAIN: AND ALSO I don’t understand when it’s the entire 141 x reader and they just leave out Kyle?!?!? Like there’s literally no reason. I understand if you want to ship the reader with certain characters idk but it feels so weird.
John trusts him with you, and you’re a good wife faithful to a fault.
Your husband is older now, can’t stay up as late, can’t do all the things you need. You’re still young and insatiable.
He invites the men over for a drink, or ten by the end of the night. The clock hits midnight and John kisses your forehead goodnight, bidding Simon, Soap, and Gaz a nod goodbye and “to take care of ‘er.” You knew your John couldn’t make it the whole night, and that’s okay!
What follows is a night of fun: shots, beers, and occasional wine cooler. It’s filled with stories, laughs, and games. Soap is the first to pass out on the couch, then followed by Gaz.
It’s now you and Simon. It’s always you and Simon. Once the men drift into a sweet lullaby Simon turns to you. He asks you about your dreams, your fears, of the one time you were almost caught shoplifting at 15, he cares. The others see it, in the way he perks up at a mention of your name, the way he keeps a steady hand on your back guiding you through the base when you come to visit, in every little thing he does. John knows this, that’s why he trusts Simon. You both see each other and care for each other. John doesn’t think Simon would be the man he is today without the tenderness you’ve brought into their lives.
As Simon tells a story about some odd job hours after the others in the 141 have gone to bed, his deep rich voice lulls you into your own deep sleep. Simon smiles under his mask slightly. He watches you for a while, finally deciding he doesn't want you to be sore in the morning from the position you're in. He sets down his beer, huffs sitting up, and carefully grabs you. As he cradles you bridal style up the stairs into the bed with your husband, your hands instinctively wrap around his strong broad shoulders and you smell his cologne and tobacco scent. He takes you in himself inhaling you slightly, cherishing your sweetness, your warmth, he’s missed it you.
He carefully opens the door to not disturb the sleeping bear and sets you in your place on the bed. As you stir and lazily grin in your sleep, adjust slightly, you nuzzle into your husband sighing deeply.
Simon steps a few paces back observing the two of you. Could he ever have this? This safety? This life? Simon looks away envious, straightening. No. He can’t. He’s done too much. He’s caused too much damage, and pain, been through too much. He doesn’t deserve this life. He grabs the two men from their snoring and drives them all back to base.
As the sun rises, John rises. He looks down as their sleeping bird brushing a loose hair out of your face, then his gaze locks on to the vent nearest the door with a tiny black dot. John smirks, Simon staring right back at him miles away. John knows Simon would never allow himself a chance at happiness, just as you would never tell John you may be unsatisfied. He knows his lieutenant and his wife. He knows what they need, so John will have to give it to you both. You may not know it to the full extent yet, but soon. It’s not like John hasn’t been trying.
Part 2:
💬 1 🔁 6 ❤️ 32 · It's Just Dinner... · continuation of my story!! hope you like it!
Word Count: 811
You knew this wasn’t a normal dinner:
authors note: OKAY GUYS DONT JUDGE TOO HARD!! It’s been years since I’ve written and this was so quick so… sorry!
✴︎ summary: professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.
✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, professor au, gojo is a physics prof and geto is a ethics prof, competition style smut, so much smut, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, dom!geto, degradation (whore), praise kink (gojo + reader), semi public sex, office sex, double penetration, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby, pretty)
✴︎ wc: 12,596 (again what's wrong with me)
There was little Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto did actually compete over — growing up as best friends, most would have expected a little healthy competition, and there were disagreements, arguments, and even a few fist-fights here and there, but there weren’t many things both desired at the same time.
Until you.
A new professor at Jujutsu Tech University, you were fairly green, but your reputation as an academic had preceded you, and landed you a position at this prestigious university. And right in the crosshairs of these two best friends who also happened to hold positions there — ones who were surely some of the most coveted on campus amongst faculty and students alike. There were little times where you would find one professor without the other outside of the classroom — Professor Gojo had even somehow annoyed Chancellor Yaga into having his office next door to Geto’s.
Professor Gojo taught Intro to Physics as well as a few other related courses, including one about the infinite nature of the universe, while Professor Geto busied himself with teaching Introduction to Ethics, and other related courses, including one that was solely based around the trolley problem.
“The trolley problem?” you asked, sitting in Geto’’s classroom, hanging around his desk, as he was beginning to clean the board of his notes from the class you had sat in on — a part of the mentoring program at the university for newly burgeoning professors — giving a sense of camaraderie and community. Right now, all it was giving you was an understanding of why there was an influx of women interested in ethics. Geto had his jet black locks tied into a neat bun, a lock hanging loose that framed his face — one that you had both the urge tuck back into his bun, but also twirl it between your fingers. His crisp white button up was unbuttoned a few buttons down after class, a deep ivy sweater vest thrown over it, “how can you teach an entire class on that single problem?”
“Almost any problem in ethics could be the subject of a semester-long debate, especially the trolley problem,” he chuckles, as he turns to you, placing the eraser down a moment, as he rolls up his sleeves to prevent residue from staining his shirt. His fingers expertly unbuttoned the cuffs, before carefully rolling them up, “the trolley problem has many iterations, it dissects the concept of a moral quandary to a science, creating the idea of an impossible choice with no right answer,”
“Many things in life have no right answer, but there’s always a choice to be made,” you hum, “what would be your solution to the trolley problem?”
“The fact is that there is no right answer, but there are right questions to ask and things to consider,” he shrugs, “most people don’t know truly what their answer would be in that situation — some think it would be better to sit helpless, letting fate decide, others think that they would choose the answer that saved their loved ones, and some think they would choose the answer that benefited the most people — but the way the problem can be formulated has so many iterations that almost any answer could be swayed,”
“And are you so easily swayed?” and he shrugs, pursing his lips.
“I’d like to think not,” he smiled — and you knew why so many people had crushes on him and Gojo — not only their looks, but their intelligence.
You hum at his words, still utterly more enthralled by the way his forearms looked, and judging by his raised eyebrow, he noticed, “But why an entire course about it?”
And he shrugged, as he crossed his arms, smirking as your eyes flicker back from his arms to his gaze, “It’s one of my favorite ethical dilemmas, wouldn’t you want to teach a course on your favorite subject?”
“I would simply like to learn my way around the university without having to come an hour early to account for getting lost on campus,” and he laughs, a noise that makes your heart squeeze, his lips curled in a smile — and you hide your own, happy you were the one who made him make that incredible noise, “It’s 50-50 whether or not I’ll find my car after this,”
“Well, I could help with that,” he steps forward, hands in his pockets now, thumbs visible on either side, “show you around? Show you the spots to see, what to avoid, maybe even how to stare without being obvious?” and you flush at his words, knitting your brow together to feign innocence, “nice innocent act, maybe it’d work on someone else — not on me, sweetheart,”
And you can’t stop the next question from tumbling out of your mouth, “What would work on you then?”
This was a bad idea — you had just started here two weeks ago, and here you were flirting with not only a professor, but the professor assigned to be your mentor here, one of the two professors everyone had their eyes on—you needed to stop.
Then he smirked, a wicked grin that only left you wanting more — more of that smirk, more of his words, more of him, “That’s for you to find out,” he offered you a hand, “so shall we find out?”
And find out you did—
—Find out just how skilled he was with that sharp tongue of his.
It wasn’t supposed to end up this way — the tour was innocent enough. He helped you get down a route from your parking spot to your office to your classroom, he showed you the good spots to escape for the day, the best spots around campus to eat or get a coffee or tea, and then you ended up in his office. He had offered you a drink — an expensive sake bottle that he had gotten from the chancellor for his good work.
“Satoru doesn’t drink so usually, I end up drinking alone, so this is a nice change of pace,” and you snort slightly, as he raises an eyebrow, as he pours the shots, “and what’s funny about that?” he asks, offering you a small shot glass filled with the sake that you swirled before downing. And he did the same, eyes still glued to you, a small trickle of the sake slipping out of your corner of your lips.
“Just the idea of you drinking in the office alone, it’s a little sad,” you chuckle, “do you not have many friends aside from Satoru?” as you pour yourself and him another shot, not noticing how he walks over nor how close he is.
“I’m very selective about who I spend my time with?” and your cheeks warm, and it's not from the alcohol, as his voice is low when he speaks, “and well, I’m not alone now, am I?” he looms over you, his hand resting on the arm of your chair, caging you in, his other hand reaching to rest fingers against your chin, “you’re here,”
“Geto—”
“Suguru,” he corrected, his eyes sliding over your body, “you’re not one of my students, Professor,” and heat trickles down your body at his words, as he leans down, tongue darting out to lick the trail of sake from the corner of your lips, “but it seems like I have a lot to teach you, regardless,”
You shiver at his actions, “We shouldn’t—”
“Lesson one, nothing in the code of ethics prevents any consensual relationship amongst staff members,” his lengthy fingers trace your jawline, before he kisses along it, “lesson two, there’s nothing unethical about our relationship — our mentor/mentee relationship period is ending now, and we are simply colleagues—“ his thumb drags down your plush lips, pulling at your bottom one, “for now,”
“Suguru,” and he’s leaning even closer.
“And lesson three, that I only can teach you if you return my feelings,” his lips are a centimeter away, breath warming your lips, his bangs brushing against your skin, “so the question remains, Professor, do you?”
You nod wordlessly, breath caught as your fingers brush his cheek now, “I do, please—“
And his lips curl, “Good girl,” he leans down, kissing you softly, lips parting only after a moment, and then you lean up again. He’s smiling against your lips, as his hand slides to the back of your neck, more insistent this time as you taste the sake on his mouth — and somehow it’s more sweet on his lips that it was on your tongue.
Your lips part again, a breath away, foreheads brushing, as your fingers grasp onto the soft front of his sweater to ground yourself on something, before it slides against the toned surface of his chest under all the academic wear.
“Like what you feel, Princess?” And you flush, cheeks burning as you give an almost undetectable nod, and he chuckles, “good, because so do I,”
And his head is leaning down for another kiss when there’s a knock at the door, “Yo Suguru!” And Suguru moves back, just as the door swings open, as you struggle to grasp onto any semblance of decorum, as Satoru Gojo enters.
“Don’t you know it’s good manners to wait to hear a person say ‘come in’ after you knock, Satoru?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed — his composure impressive for a man who had kissed you breathless not a minute ago.
“Huh?” Gojo glares at Suguru, lips twisted in a frown, “Haven’t I made enough progress for you? At least I started knocking,” Gojo huffs, smirk on his lips, as he glances at you now, “oh it’s the newbie,” and your gaze slides up to his, a polite smile on your lips, and you almost feel like his cerulean gaze lingers on your lips a moment too long, his gaze sliding back to his best friend, “am I interrupting?”
Satoru Gojo stood framed in the doorway, and he was picturesque — an academic’s wet dream in his blue button up with navy suit coat slung over his shoulders.
“Only a celebratory welcome and end to our mentoring period,” Suguru shrugs, sliding a smile behind Gojo’s back when Gojo turns back to you, “would you like to join us? We were just having some sake,”
He grimaces, “Doesn’t sound like much of a celebration,” he looks to you, sly grin playing on his lips, “she looks like she’d much prefer something sweet, isn’t that right?”
You blink, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind,” and Gojo winks, offering you his hand, your view of Suguru’s scowl obscured.
“Sounds like the lady has spoken — there’s a great place that sells kikufuku not far from campus—“
“We actually have plans for dinner, Satoru,” Suguru cuts in, as you furrow your brow — since when? “And I think a discussion of her future and trajectory at the university is more important than enjoying sweets,”
Gojo only grins, his body grazing the side of your chair as he steps away, hands in his pockets, “Well all work and no play doesn’t sound very fun to me, does it, Professor?”
You crack a smile, “Sounds like you have the opposite philosophy, Gojo,”
“Satoru,” he corrects, his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.
“Satoru,” you say and his lips curl into a grin before Suguru clasps a hand on Satoru’s shoulder.
“Don’t you have papers to grade?” And Suguru’s tone left little to be argued with, and Satoru only sighs dramatically, crossing his arms.
“Fine, fine,” he slides a last look at you, as you rise to your feet, “pleasure meeting you, we’ll have to have dessert some other time,” and he leans forward to whisper this last part in your ear, “though I think I’ll have trouble finding something as sweet as you,”
Your cheeks flush, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru as Satoru leaves, and Suguru only smiles at you, “Shall we go?”
You don’t notice the slight edge to his voice, or the way his eyes slide to glare at the door, as you busy yourself gathering your things, “Since when did we have dinner plans?” You ask, your last word coming out as a squeak, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you much too close.
“Since I wanted to spend more time with you, is that a problem?” he murmurs against the same ear whispered into, teeth grazing the soft flesh of your earlobe, and you bite your lip, sighing as his lips slide to your jaw, “well, is it?”
And you shake your head, “Never,” and he’s leading you out of his office, and you don’t notice the way his eyes narrow when his eyes narrow as he glances at Satoru’s office right next door.
~~~
“Don’t work too hard,” and your gaze snaps up to find Gojo at your office door, leaning against the door frame, “your face could freeze like that,”
“And would that be a bad thing?” you rolled your eyes, as you pulled yourself away from the stack of exams you were stuck grading since the university hadn’t bothered to assign you a T.A. yet.
He takes your reply as an invitation to come in, swinging the office door shut behind him, “No, not at all, but I’d prefer to see those pretty lips in a smile,” and your lips curl, as he adds, “plus you’ll end up looking like Suguru — a perpetual stick up his ass,”
You snort, “You two have nothing but lovely things to say about the other,” you say sarcastically, “but i guess that’s best friends for you,”
“Nah, Suguru really does have a stick up his ass — pretty sure its a requirement for all ethics professors,” he shrugs, as he opts to lean against your desk rather than sit in either of the chairs, “now, can I take you to have that dessert I mentioned before? Looks like you could use a break,” his eyes glance over the stack of exams piled upon your desk, “let me be your solace, sweetheart — the world of academia is a harsh place,”
You offer a small smile, “I’m stuck grading these exams — I have to have the grades in by tomorrow, and I still have about thirty-two to get through,”
“Don’t you have a T.A. to pass this off on?” and you shake your head, and he hums, taking out his phone, “I’ll reach out to the Chancellor for you — let him see what the hold up is. The old geezer owes me one anyway,”
“You don’t have to—”
He only continues to type, without looking up, “I want to,” and before sending off his email, “should be able to get a student assigned to you soon, and I asked him to give you an extension as well, so now you have no excuse,” he grins, plucking the pen from your fingers, his fingers brushing your own, before offering his hand, “shall we?”
But there was one excuse you hadn’t exhausted yet — “Satoru—”
“You’re really making me work for it, beauty,” he rubs the back of his head, smile on his lips, “not that I don’t mind playing hard to get, but you know, I do always get what I want—”
“What about Suguru?” and his smile fades, expression unreadable.
“And what about him?” you sigh, leaning back.
“I assume you know—”
“About the fact you two have been hooking up?” he shrugs, as you flush at his bluntness, “yeah, and what about it?”
You stare at Satoru, thoroughly confused by his nonchalance, “Wouldn’t that—”
“I’ve already spoken to Suguru, he’s fine if I pursue you as well,” he smiles, as he rounds the corner of your desk to stand closer, “and that’s what this is, sweetheart — me pursuing you,”
And your cheeks grow hot, stomach flipping at his words, as your heart struggles to keep up with your mind, “So you both are okay with me seeing the other?”
His lips curl into a grin, “Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, sweetheart — me and Suguru don’t have any intention of backing off,” he tilts his head, “you’ll have to choose eventually, and I know you’ll make the right choice,”
“But—”
And he sighs, slipping his hands into his pockets, “For now, this is just a colleague welcoming another colleague to our very prestigious institution, just a friendly outing,” and you nod, rising from your seat, but he draws close, lips a breath away, “but next time, it will be a date, angel, and kikufuku won’t be the dessert I’ll want at the end of the night.”
~~~
“Suguru, should we really—” and his lips cut you off, a bruising kiss that steals the logic from your brain, and only leaves lust in its wake, your fingers moving to grasp the front of his now very creased button up. You needed to ask him about your conversation with Satoru — but all you could think about is how you could get him closer, closer, closer.
“Always taste so sweet for me,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping into your parted lips, as his fingers card through your hair, “what is that cream?” he hums, and you almost freeze — the kikufuku you had for lunch left over from your impromptu time with Satoru.
“Suguru, I need to talk to you about something,” and he’s impatient, as always, as he leads you to his lecture hall desk, pressing you against the edge of it, his legs pressed between your spread thighs.
“Talking isn’t exactly high on my priority list right now, princess,” he hums as his lips slide over your jaw, leaving wet kisses along it, before his teeth nibble and suck a mark right under your jaw, making you hiss.
“Not there, people will see—”
“People, or Satoru?” he murmurs, as you freeze as you pull back, his dark gaze lidded, but his expression inscrutable, “he told me he asked you out,”
You purse your lips, “I wanted to talk to you first to see how you felt—uhmph—” his lips smash against yours, swallowing your words and your noises eagerly, as his hands slide down your sides.
“You can see Satoru if you want, baby,” he mutters against your lips, “see him, date him, fuck him — go have your fun,” and he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, as you look down at him with red kiss ruined lips, “but don’t forget who’s the one making you feel this good,”
And he’s pushing up your skirt, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, making them shake under his touch, as his finger presses against the wet patch on your panties, “Has he seen this yet?” and you’re too busy gasping to answer, so he only presses down meaner, rubbing you in tight circles, “answer me,”
“No, no, we haven’t even kissed—” and he’s pulling aside the crotch of your panties, air hitting your already wet pussy, “Suguru—” you’re whining already, and he only smiles in response, as his finger teases your opening, gathering your pre-cum on his fingertip.
“Should’ve known, you look fuckin’ tight, baby, gotta stretch you out, don’t I?” and a lithe finger is teasing your outer lips, before it sinks in slowly, dragging against your walls as it does, bullying your insides until it’s knuckle deep. And your fingers find their way into Suguru’s hair as he begins to fuck you in earnest, the lewd sounds of your cunt nearly echoing in the lecture hall as he thrusts his finger in and out, “hear that, baby? Your pretty pussy is practically sucking me it, won’t let me go, but I think it needs more, don’t you think?” and another finger is sinking into you, joining the other, curling and stretching against you as they piston in and out, your slick slipping down his fingers and onto his palm.
“Fuuuck, so fuckin’ wet for me, princess,” Suguru looked so gorgeous, his jet black locks pulled from their normally neat bun, strands hanging in his face, as your fingers grasped at his head, buried between your thighs on his knees, his hands splaying your thighs open on the edge of his desk, the cuffs of his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up, as two fingers sink into your dripping cunt, “so perfect, such a good girl, wonder if you taste as good as you feel,” and he’s leaning forward, his lips latching to your clit, making you cry out as he sucks harshly, “don’t be so loud, baby, want someone to see you spreading your legs for me — how’d that look?” and you gaze down at him with lust glazed over eyes, his chin glossy with your release, “all messy f’me, how could I resist?” and you’re keening against his touch, making his lips curl, “I’m starting to think you want to get caught, want people to see you cumming around my fingers, don’t you?”
You only whimper, walls traitorously clenching around him, making him let out a low groan, his hand drifting to palm at his bulge, straining against the fabric of his slacks, “g’nna feel so good around my cock, sweetheart, you’re practically throbbing,”
“Fuck,” you whimper, your thighs straining against his grip, hips nearly starting to fuck his face, as his tongue licks a strip right up your sopping cunt, “i‘m s’close, Sugu, I—” and your nails dig into his scalp, he fucks you open with his fingers and tongue, the squelch of your pussy and his fingers ringing in your ears, as you grind into his touch, just as he curls his fingers, hitting that spot that has you cumming, making a mess just as he buries his face in you, letting you ride his face as he pulls his fingers away. His fingers find your mouth making you taste your own release, stifling the moans and pants leaving your mouth, sucking and licking as he eases himself from you. Your fingers finding stability on the edge of the desk, still panting and fucked out, as he chuckles, rising to his feet, as he looms over you, looking at the cum still dripping out of you and onto the edge of his desk,
“So pretty,” he hums, before kissing you, as he helps you make yourself presentable, adjusting your underwear back into place, as your eyes drifting down between his legs, “I don’t need to ask if you like what you see because I know you do, but—”
You roll your eyes, your fingers pulling him by his belt loops between your thighs, “Don’t you want some help with that?”
And he only smiles, as he presses another sweet kiss to your lips, “We’ll save that for next time, I wanted this time to be about you,” his arm snaking around your waist, as he presses himself against you, rubbing his bulge against your sensitive cunt, making you hiss, “when’s your date with Satoru?”
You bite your lip, “Tonight, for dinner,” you admit, and he nods, a hint of jealousy that disappears as soon as it appears, before kissing you again, stealing your breath as your fingers find the back of his neck, knees nearly buckling — which doesn’t go unnoticed by him — a smile on his lips.
“Come see me after.”
~~~
“Why did you want to go out with me anyway?” you ask as Satoru walks you to your doorstep of your apartment right off campus, his hand intertwined with yours, fingers engulfing yours, thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he replies back with a hum, “beautiful, brilliant, funny, and you keep up — what’s there not to like?”
“You know I’m not such a sucker for sweet words that I can’t see through them,” and his lips curl into a smile, as you both stop right outside your apartment building’s door, fluorescent light buzzing above you above, the cicadas’ symphony drowning out the light chatter from people walking by, “did you only ask me out to piss off Suguru?”
“That was part of the reason,” he admits, and you tilt your head, rolling your eyes, “what?”
“Such a brilliant physics professor can be so childish — what hope is there for any of the other men?” and he laughs, cerulean eyes flashing with amusement, “then what was the rest of the reason?”
And his teeth graze over his bottom lip, as he steps closer to you, his fingers cupping your chin, “I want you, is that straightforward enough for you?” And you shiver, and he doesn’t miss your thighs squeezing together, as he leans even closer, “c’mon sweetheart, this is more than just a game, because if it was, I would have stopped after the first time seeing you,” his thumb rubs over the mark Suguru left right below your jaw and his lips curl into a grin, “that was already enough to piss Suguru off,”
“And now?”
He’s leaning even closer, breath catching in your throat, “Now I just wanna know every inch of you, sweetheart, that okay by you?”
And you’re leaning up first, lips grazing his, barely for a moment, before Satoru finds your lips again. Where Suguru’s lips were impatient and passionate — Satoru was softer and playful, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, his tongue teasing your lips apart, and a smile as he swallowed your moan eagerly. “So responsive,” he’s pulling away to stare at your swollen lips, parted beautifully for him, as he pulls on your bottom lip with his thumb, before his lips press kisses to your ear, latching onto your earlobe, teeth grazing as he sucked, “bet your other lips taste as sweet, don’t they, angel?” hot words sending heat directly to your core, as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder, “I can see why Suguru wanted to keep you for himself — such a pretty little thing, but you’re mine right now, aren’t you?”
His hands slide down down your curves, squeezing your hips teasingly, “Satoru—” and you’re glancing around at the barren streets, the quiet chatter of people could still be heard in the distance, “someone could see—”
“So?” and his lips find the mark Suguru had left, his lips closing around it and sucking, a gasp pulled from your throat, as you keen against his touch, “want them to see you all pliant for me, need them to hear you moaning my name, need you baby, need you so much that it hurts,” as the corner of his lips quirk upwards when you whimper when he sucks an even bigger mark against your collarbone, “and I think you need me too.”
Or maybe, as you pulled him inside of your apartment building, he wanted you to want him as much as he did right now.
~~~
The campus had become a battlefield, and you were the prize they were waging war for — unwittingly so, but by your own hand, as you just couldn’t choose.
But how could you?
“Suguru—” his lips found yours right outside his office, and you could taste the soba noodles he had for lunch, as his fingers threaded through your hair, his other sneaky hand slipping lower around your waist, tugging you even closer against him, “I have a class to teach,”
“Well, there’s something I wanna teach you before you go,” he rasps, as his tongue parts your lips again, tasting your own, “you can afford to keep your students waiting a minute, can’t you? You already denied me your company last night,” he grumbles, and you know he’s jealous that you didn’t stop by after your dinner with Satoru last night, but you’re having trouble finding the words to reassure him as his hand gropes your ass now, squeezing and teasing each cheek, And you don’t have enough time to react, as he’s tugging the turtle neck you had opted for, only for his eyes to narrow at the many blooming red hickies that Satoru had littered your skin with the night before, “were you hiding these?”
Your tongue ties itself into a knot, “I just—” you didn’t want Suguru to get upset — you were hoping to avoid a problem, “I didn’t want you—” And he’s pulling you back into his office, right against the door, as he’s sinking to his knees, as he’s tugging down your dress pants to your ankles, “Suguru—”
“What?” his eyes flicker up, irises dark pools of anger, “he can leave his mark, and so can I,” and his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, making you gasp, his hands holding you in place even as you lurch forward, his teeth meanly digging into your thigh, as his tongue flicks over it to soothe the ache, “taste so good, princess — I can see why Satoru couldn’t resist marking you up — maybe I should make a habit of it,” and you whimper, and his fingers press against the crotch of your underwear, teasing the wet patch, “don’t act you don’t like, sweetheart,” and he’s nosing your underwear, pressing a kiss against your aching cunt through your underwear, “I think you’re going to more than a little late to your next class, baby, better send an email, ok?”
~~~
“Where’s that mouth of yours now, Toru?” you tease, looking up at him, your knees were definitely going to have carpet burn after this, as you palmed his tented erection, before going to undo his belt and tugging his slacks down, “been wanting this haven’t you?” and he moans a little too loudly when you tug his boxers down, his leaking cock slapping against his shirt, “don’t be so loud, it’s a library after all,”
This was Satoru’s idea — because of course it was — he had grown tired of your offices and empty classrooms, and wanted a change of scenery — because apparently waiting an entire day to spend some time at home was simply out of the question. And that’s how you ended up on your knees in one of the very back of the library where very few if any ventured, in between one of the stacks that was only visible from one side. But even so, you could hear the distant page flips of textbooks and the whispers from across tables, and anyone could find you both in such compromising position — but the risk was exactly what Satoru wanted.
“Ca-can’t help it, sweetheart, been thinking about how pretty you’d look on your knees f’me all day,” and he’s rambling now, pressing a fist to his lips, as the other clutches at the shelf behind him, his lust glazed crystalline gaze watching you as your fingers graze his cock, thumbing at the pearly bead of precum, “been so hard all day — wanting your pretty little lips around my cock,”
And you giggle, as you lick his precum from your fingers, before spitting in your hand, beginning to rub his his cock, fingers teasingly tracing each and every lovely vein and ridge, making him buck his hips against your touch, “g’nna have to try to be quieter than that when I wrap my lips around you, baby,” and your lips kiss the tip, kitten licking the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum from the source, pulling out a choked gasp from his throat, “must have been aching in all your classes, Toru — I wonder if your students noticed — wonder if they thought about having this cock down their throat,” and he’s swallowing thickly, “too bad this cock is mine,”
And you’re pumping him in earnest now, precum and spit as makeshift lube as the lewd noises of your hand glides over his dick, as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, glazed over with pure lust, “Fuck, Toru, your cock is so fucking gorgeous,” and you groan, before you guide him to your lips, letting the precum gather on them, until you let him sink into your mouth.
He’s already so close — you can tell by the way his cock is twitching in your mouth, as you swallow around him, tongue wrapping around him, “I’m g’nna cum down your throat too soon, baby,” and his words come out strangled, your fingers squeezing what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, “fuuuck, baby, I’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” and his hips are rolling as he clutches against the stack behind him, the other weaving into your hair, fingernails digging into your scalp, “gonna make you feel so good, gotta reward you for being such a good girl, taking my dick so well,”
You gag lightly on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, and the only thing you can hear is the way your mouth slurping around his dick, the wet squelches as he fucks your throat, “I’m—” and that’s the only warning you get, before his hot cum slides down your throat, his hands grasping at your hair to hold you in place, “swallow every drop, baby, so nasty,” he’s whispering now, legs unsteady, as he watches you pull away, a string of cum and spit connecting you to his cock, and he’s almost hypnotized by the sight of you, utterly fucked out, your tongue darting out to lick the cum that dripped from your mouth, wiping the rest on the back of your hand.
And he’s groaning, “Sweetheart, I gotta fuck you so bad,” and he’s helping you to your feet, pressing an insistent kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth, groaning as he tastes his release in your mouth. But you’re tugging up his boxers and slacks, adjusting them into place, and he whines, “babyyyy,”
“Not right now, Toru,” you glance around, “someone could see us, we’re lucky no one heard us with how loud you were being,” you kiss his neck, as he pouts, “such a good boy for me, I expect a reward tonight,” and he’s grinning, raising his eyebrows — and so fucking eager.
“Oh, I’ll reward you all night for this, baby,” and he’s pulling you into another kiss, before you hear someone clearing their throat.
And you pull away to find Suguru standing, looking thoroughly unimpressed, “I was wondering why you were late for our lunch, and here you are,” his tone is even, but his eyes are like daggers digging into Satoru’s skin.
But it only seems to bounce off Satoru, his lips curled in a devious grin, as he only wraps an arm around your waist, “Sorry Suguru for keeping her, she would’ve called, but she had her mouth full,” and your cheeks flush, as your eyes snap to Satoru, mouth agape — this motherfucker— “it won’t happen again, or it might,” and he squeezes your ass, as he slips away, “by the way,” Satoru plucks a book out of the stack on the top shelf, “here’s that book you were looking for that you mentioned before,” pushing it into Suguru’s hands, and he’s gone in a moment, leaving you both alone.
Suguru’s expression flashes with irritation for a moment, before his lips curl into a smile, “Shall we go?”
And you only knew that you would catch hell for this in Suguru’s office now — the ache between your legs only growing — not that you really minded.
~~~
The game between Suguru and Satoru only continued to escalate — fucking you and fucking with each other while they were at it. Suguru had retaliated by marking you up in his office after bending you over his desk. He had spanked you, hand bearing down “Such a needy one, aren’t you, princess? Sucking another man’s dick when you were supposed to be enjoying a nice lunch with me,” he scoffs, slapping another mean spank, but this time to your aching pussy,
“Such. A. Greedy. Girl,” he says between slaps, making you cry out, nails digging into the wood of his desk, “don’t think bad girls deserve lunch — you’re probably still full off his cum, anyway,” you can hear the click of his belt, as he’s undoing his pants, “no, I think I should fill something else,” and his thick cockhead is rubbing against your dripping folds making you whimper, “don’t you think, baby?”
And he had spent the rest of lunch fucking you, even doing it again after you had finished teaching, waiting at the back door of your classroom for your students to file out, before he had you in his arms again, spread for him as he makes you ride him on the desk. Deep long strokes that have you whining and writhing in his lap, before he’s fucking his cum into you again. And after he’s setting you down on shaky legs, helping you fix your clothes, before dragging your ruined underwear down your ankles, before snatching them up, and pocketing them, as you stare at him, only a smile on his lips, “for later use,”
He lets you wash up, but insists on dropping you off at Satoru’s doorstep with a grin and a wave. And Satoru nearly has you pressed against the door when you enter, hand already sliding down your pants, raising his eyebrows with a grin, when he finds nothing there, “Teaching without panties, Professor?” and he’s sinking to his knees for you, taking your dress pants with them, looking up with a shiteating grin (though surely it would be pussyeating later), “didn’t know you were such a naughty girl,”
“I didn’t,” the defensive reply leaves your mouth without a thought, as Satoru tilts his head, “I mean, I—” you lick your lips, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment — you were so stupid — “I had them on before,”
And the pieces are clicking in his head, as his hands press your thighs open, seeing the scattered marks left by Suguru — and then he’s pressing a kiss to the marks that Suguru made, murmuring, “do I get to keep something too? That’s not really fair Princess — gonna hurt my feelings if you play favorites,”
“What do you want?” And he’s grinning, and you know he has something specific in mind.
~~~~
“You could’ve chosen anything, and you wanted this,” you settle on Satoru’s lap, making his hips roll helplessly against you — you bite your lip as you look at him, his hands were tied behind the back of the chair, your underwear stuffed in his mouth, “you wanted these right?” You tease, tugging at the back of his head, “how’d your colleagues think of you now?” Your fingers palm the base of his leaking cock, it was so pretty, just as he was, “the great Satoru Gojo tied up and dick out for his junior, huh? Maybe I should take a picture, show them how pliant you are?” You’d never do that, but you knew the idea turned him on — his groan evidence enough, his traitorous dick twitching at your words.
A muffled groan against your panties, his pretty blue eyes staring up at you pleadingly, “want something, baby boy?”
And a whine leaves his throat, and you’re smiling, fingers squeezing harder, and his hips jerk again, “My hand?” And he shakes his head, “my mouth?” And he’s shaking his head, and your lips curl, “you think I’m that easy?” And he gives a nod, making you raise an eyebrow, about to reply when there’s a knock at the door.
Your eyes both snap over, the door thankfully locked, but a slow grin grows on your lips, as you ease off his lap,as he’s staring at you with wide eyes, “Gotta see who it is, can’t be rude, baby,” and you’re adjusting your clothes, opening the door just a crack.
“Oh, Professor,” Satoru hears a female voice - it was a student from one of his classes — Rei? Ren? — “do you know where Professor Gojo is?” Her surprise was evident, but you only seemed to take it in stride. This was the student who always loved to flirt with him, taking any opportunity even outside of office hours.
“Oh he’s all tied up in a meeting right now, I’m waiting for him to get back to discuss school related matters,” you sigh, opening the door slightly more, making him squirm — if you opened it a little more… he’s nearly moaning at the thought, “you know him, he can never shut up when it comes to Physics,” and the student chuckles, and now you’re prolonging the conversation on purpose, asking her about the semester and how classes are going - he’s straining against his own tie you had used bind him, a small whine that he swallows when he sees you give him the middle finger behind your back — a warning, “I’ll let him know you stopped by and he’ll email you to set up a meeting,”
And you shut the door, locking it , before turning, your eyes falling to his cock — even redder than before, pretty bead of precum at the end — “I see you enjoyed that, did you want your students to see you like this? Spread out and tied up for me?” You’re unbuttoning your blouse, as you slowly walk over, before settling on his lap. Your fingers tug at his hair on the back of his head, pulling your panties from his mouth, and stuffing it in his shirt pocket, “I wanna hear you talk now,” and you’re grasping his leaking cock, pressing it against your aching cunt, “beg for me,”
And he whimpers, “Fuuuuck, please, sweetheart, I need you to fuck me, use me as your toy, just—“ he’s biting his lip, leaning up, blue eyes watery, “I need you, I need you so bad,” and you’re dragging your thumb down his erect nipples, before you’re leaning down to bite one, nibbling and sucking, “shit—fu—“ and he’s keening against you, desperate for more, snapping his hips against you making his top part your folds, drawing a moan from your lips.
“So needy, you couldn’t even wait for me to fuck you,” you sink onto him, meanly grinding on him, his thick cock parting his folds all too fast — your walls squeezing the cum out of him. And he’s choking out a gasp as you cover his mouth, his spit wetting your fingers, “do you want other people to hear your pornographic moans? Those are just for me,” and you start to ride him, hips slapping against his, as you moan softly into his ear, “always make me feel so good, Toru, s’full,” and he’s twitching inside you, a moan vibrating against your fingers, “should have known you love praise — it’s your favorite drinking game,” you teased, as his hips begin to snap to meet yours, driving himself in deeper.
“Oh, fuck, you feel so perfect, baby, so fuckin’ wet f’me, so warm,” he’s meeting every snap of your hips, and you’re only moaning now, messily covering his mouth with your lips, so he can eagerly swallow your sounds for you, tongues tied together, the groan and squeaks of the chair only growing louder.
Until you pull your lips from him, “Toru, I’m close,” and he’s nodding, his head lolling back as your walls clench around him. He doesn’t last much longer, toes curling as his hips continuing to fuck you through your orgasm, until he’s notching himself in you deep. Two more thrusts and he’s spilling inside you, fucking his load deeper, as you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. Boneless, as he kisses your shoulder sweetly, as you untie his hands, freeing them, so he can hold you.
And you pull back to look at him, pale cheeks flushed, lips bitten red, and sheen of sweat on his forehead — he’s so fucking pretty—
And he’s only grinning— “can we do it again?
—and a fucking menace.
~~~
“Relax,” Suguru whispers, fingers pressing his glass of wine to his lips, his hand on the small of your back to guide you, “you’re so tense,” he chides gently, as your eyes flit to glare at him.
He knew exactly why you were tense.
The two of you stroll into the university gala, hosted to draw in wealthy alumni and investors in hopes of donations and to show off the prestige of the university. And as a new professor, you were required to attend — as was Suguru, as one of the most reputable.
“Suguru, I know I agreed to this, but is it a good idea for us to be going to an event like this together? People could talk,” and he’s only shrugging, a smirk on his lips.
“People are already talking, so why not give them something to talk about, Professor?” he whispers in your ear, hot breath against your ear making you flush.
“Any publicity is not always good publicity, Suguru,” you sigh, hearing whispers as the two you walked the length of the hall, “don’t think the university would take kindly to gossip and rumors about affairs amongst their employees,”
“Two, no sorry, three single professors engaging in healthy relations isn’t something that should be shamed,” he’s looking at you with mock outrage, mouth agape, “are you not for healthy expression of sexuality, Professor?”
You snort, whispering, “Y’know I’m all about that, Sugu—or should I bring up how many times you came last night? You had to wash your cum off my back,” and you delight in the slight red tint in his cheeks, before he shamelessly grins.
“Remind me? I still have the pictures,” he snorts, and something he says sticks in the back of your mind.
“Are we? Single, that is,” you ask, chewing on your lip — the worst time to ask the “what are we” question was in a banquet hall full of people who didn’t know about your relations — or your ones with his best friend.
“Well, I’m only seeing you, if that’s what you mean,” and your anxiety ease a bit, “but the same can’t be said for you,” and his words are half-teasing, but half serious — his gaze growing a bit more serious, “How long are you going to make us wait until you choose, sweetheart?”
“Until I choose?” and he’s turning to look at you, fingers cupping your chin.
“Do you expect us to share you forever?” he’s glances to see if anyone is watching before his thumb drags over your lips, “because I’m not too good at sharing, and I don’t think Satoru is either,”
And then your conversation is cut short just as two investors approach Suguru to engage in some discussion of ethics. Your mind wanders as soon as you’re done with the formal platitudes, putting your hand on Suguru’s arm to tell him you’re going to get a drink, before excusing yourself for a moment. You wander to the bar, ordering yourself a drink, before pulling your phone out discreetly — notifications only from Satoru staring back at you.
“Can’t believe you got conned into attending the gala,” and you sigh, honestly you couldn’t believe it either — you sneak a look at Suguru in his suit — a deep burgundy suit with a black shirt that complemented his black hair tied into a neat bun, aside from the few strands framing one side of his face. No tie around his neck, because of course, he couldn’t be too proper — although, when that was your view, you suppose you could.
“I can’t exactly say no, I’m a new professor.” and Satoru’s reply is almost instant.
“I could’ve gotten you out of it, but you agreed to crucify yourself with Suguru. Too bad, we could’ve had our own fun :P” and Satoru as always had a one track mind.
You roll your eyes, “Mind only on one thing, Satoru?”
“Only when it comes to you, baby, ;)” and you snort, lips curling at his remark, another text coming through right after—
“Who are you texting?” Suguru’s voice makes you jump, as you tuck your phone away, missing Satoru’s last text as you do, raising an eyebrow, “let me guess, trying to convince you to skip out?”
“Well—” and his arm is around your waist, making your breath catch in your throat.
“Then let’s go,” and he’s striding through the throng of people gathered at tables and floating through the banquet hall, finding his way through the double doors, veering into a hallway right off of the hall that only led to the electrical closet and other maintenance rooms, “we can have a quick respite,” and he’s unbuttoning the button on his jacket, as he turns his gaze to you.
“Where—” and he’s pressing you against the wall of the hallway, a pillar positioned nearby that blocked the view of passersby, but completely exposed otherwise, “Sugu—” you squeal, as you try to urge his hands off your body, but he’s only squeezing your hips harder.
“Like I said, let’s give them something to talk about,” and his hands slide down the curves of your body, and he’s kissing you, stealing any protests from you from your lips, just as he does your breath, “you think I can resist you this whole night when you look like this, princess?” his hand slides up the slit of your dress, thick fingers against your bare thigh, “you’re temptation incarnate—” and two fingers are dragging your underwear to your ankles, “and the best cunt I’ve ever had,”
And his knee pressed against your bare, aching pussy sends a ripple of logic through you, “We shouldn’t—someone could see—” and his knee only presses harder against you, as you gasp, biting your lip, and he’s smiling wickedly as you grow even wetter, cunt fluttering at the thought.
“Be more honest, sweetheart, you love this — your lips are saying one thing and your princess cunt is saying another,” and he’s pressing his knee into you, grunting as he feels your slick collect on his dress pants, “c’mon pretty, I can’t be doing all the work. Fuck yourself on my thigh like a good girl,”
“Sugu—” and he’s meanly gripping your chin, his dark eyes blown out with lust.
“You gonna be good f’me, or do I have to make you?” And his fingers find the soft flesh of your ass, squeezing, ripping a moan from your lips. And you snap, beginning to chase your high, grinding on his thigh, as he flexed in time with it. Your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, tongues tasting each other, as the rest of the party melts away, your fingers reaching down to palm his erection through his slacks, “fuck, such a filthy girl — g’nna make me cum in my pants — you gonna clean up your mess after?”
And you’re nodding, moaning as his knee hits the right friction against your clit, “I’m close, Sugu—“
And he’s reaching down to grab your ass to find the perfect angle, his thigh flexing, and you’re cumming, burying your face in his neck as you ride your orgasm out, slick squelching all too loud against his now ruined pants.
And you’re panting, chest rising and falling, as you lean back before kissing Suguru hard, “sweetheart—“ and he’s lowering you on wobbly legs, as your hands slip off his jacket to drape in front of him as a weak attempt to hide the large stain of your cum.
“Let’s go,” and he’s not protesting, grinning as you drag him out, eyes still on him as you walk backwards out of the hall.
And neither of you notice, the figure behind the pillar, watching, as he slowly tucked himself back into his gray suit pants, pale skin flushed, as his crystalline blue eyes watched you both walk off. He’s panting, teeth grazing over his lip as he composes himself.
Fuck, he had never cum so hard, except with you. The way your face contorted in pleasure, how Suguru had made you moan, how he took control of you — it was fucking hot. He almost scoffs at himself, rubbing a hand down his face, he never thought of himself as a voyeur but maybe he was. And his lips curl, as his mind unraveled an idea — one where all three of you could enjoy.
Maybe he could learn to share.
It would just take the right amount of precision, and luckily, Satoru smiled at your text chain, his last text still unread — he was all about precision.
And who can resist you in that dress?
~~~~
“This is a fucking terrible idea,” you murmur against Satoru’s lips, as he presses you into the desk, “he could come back any minute,” and he’s pressing you into the edge of Suguru’s desk, crumpling papers, shaking books and picture frames on Suguru’s desk, “Toru—”
One minute, you were having a nice lunch with Satoru, and the next, he’s gotten you stumbling into his office with his hands under your shirt — or what you thought was his office.
“Don’t act like you didn’t want this, sweetheart,” his fingers are toying with the hem of your dress pants, his lips pressing wet kisses along your jaw, “so needy f’me two seconds ago, didn’t even notice we went into the wrong office, and now you want me to make the lengthy journey back to my own?”
Your scoff grows into a gasp as his teeth grazes your pulse, teeth digging into your soft flesh before running his tongue over the blooming bruise, “It’s right next door,” and he clicks his tongue against your skin.
“And imagine how long that’d take, might end up taking you right in the hall, and imagine the rumors that’d spread then,” he’s chuckling as his hands slide under your shirt, teasing your tits through your bra, “what then? Gonna let them see how much of a needy girl you are for me?”
He’s plucking moans and whines out of you with ease, all too familiar with tearing down your inhibitions with precise ease, “fuck, what if he sees us—he could walk in any minute—”
“Aww, baby I just wanted to fuck you in the same place we first met, wouldn’t that be romantic?” and he’s tugging your pants down all the same, fingers unbuttoning your blouse as he pouts, “eat you out in the very chair I first saw you in, suck my cock while I sit in Suguru’s chair — doesn’t that sound like a good way to declare our undying love for one another?”
“Toru—” you sigh, and he’s catching your lips in a kiss, lips curled as you melt into his touch, as he sheds you of your clothes.
He’s sinking to his knees, spreading your thighs for him, kissing the wet patch of precum collected on your underwear. He’s inhaling, before warm breath settles against your skin, “such a perfect pussy,” and his tongue drags against the wet fabric, sucking at your clit through it, making you lurch against him, his large palms keeping you spread.
“Don’t know how Suguru doesn’t like sweets since he loves eating you out—” and your gaze is snapping down to him, a knowing grin on his lips, “still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, pretty girl,”
“How do you—”
He chuckles, as he presses sweet kisses to your inner thigh, the vibration making you shiver, “With the amount of marks he leaves, I’d be surprised he didn’t — I may be a pretty face, sweetheart, but I’m not an idiot,” and you gasp as he uses his teeth to drag down your underwear, “can i keep these?”
“If you both keep stealing my underwear, I’m not going to have any left—”
“Even better,” he says cheekily, as he pockets them, “you’re not helping your case, baby,” and you glare down at him, but your mouth falls open as he presses a kiss to your weeping cunt, nose bumping against your swollen clit teasingly, “neither is this pussy of yours — you’re making a mess all over Suguru’s desk, think he’d enjoy that?” and he’s running his tongue over your folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips, “such a nasty girl, aren’t you?” and he’s teasing your outer lips with his wicked tongue, before he’s back to kissing and sucking marks onto your thighs.
“Toru,” you whine, “please,” and Satoru finally relents, wasting no time to bury his face in your cunt. He’s licking and sucking tight circles around your puffy clit before his tongue begins to part your folds, his fingers assisting in pulling your clenching walls apart, “fuuuck, sweetheart, can’t wait to feel you around my cock, gonna suck me dry with this perfect pussy,” your fingers find purchase in his snowy locks, hips grinding against his face shamelessly, His tongue was warm and hot inside your cunt, flicking against places you couldn’t reach with your fingers, his thumb teasing your clit in tight circles, making you see stars before your eyes.
“Satoru, please, s’close,” and he’s moaning against your sweet cunt, eyes flickering down to see him groping his erection through his slacks, the sensation of his moans enough to make you squirt all over his face, his tongue and mouth eagerly eating you out through your release. Moaning his name as your chest heaves, your thighs try to close around his head, burying him deeper between them, as your toes curl.
And neither of you had noticed that the door had swung open, as Suguru stood in the doorway, his eyes flitting over the scene in front of him, your leaking cunt spread out in front of him, as Satoru turns at the door shuttinh, lips and chin still glossy with your release and his sweat, as he only grins up at his best friend.
“And what did you say about my problem with knocking?” and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, chest still heaving from your orgasm, juices spilling from your needy cunt, “at least I knocked last time,”
“I don't think knocking applies to when it comes to your own office, Satoru,” he sighs, casually removing his suit coat and unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt as he rolls them up, lidded eyes still raking over you, you squirming under his gaze as Satoru still holds your thighs wide open so they both can see your pretty pussy spread out and leaking, your release dripping down the hardwood of Suguru’s desk and onto his carpet, “come on, Satoru, you could’ve done this more subtly?” Suguru sits on the couch, manspreading his thick thighs, as his eyes met yours, dark lidded gaze that only makes your cunt twitch.
“Oh you know how I feel about subtlety,” and he’s lapping lightly at your leaking cunt, making your walls flutter, “I don’t like to waste time,” and he’s licking his lips clean, before wiping the rest on the back his hand, before turning to you, “saw you fucking our pretty princess at the gala — felt a little different than I thought it would,” and Satoru guides your gaze with his thumb on your chin to Suguru so your eyes spot the tenting bulge between his legs, “seems like you feel the same, Suguru,”
“And if I do?” He’s raising an eyebrow finally tearing his eyes away from you to glance at his best friend, “then what?”
And Satoru is kissing your neck sweetly, “Think someone could use your attention, got this sweet cunt all ready for you,” and Suguru’s cock twitches in his pants, “or if you prefer, her mouth is more than willing, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
“What would you be doing? Watching?”and Satoru scoffs, as he’s pulling you into a kiss, lips sliding against yours, as his tongue parts them, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
And he’s pulling away, wiping a little saliva that drips from your lips, “oh I’d be doing more than just watching,” and Suguru sighs, as your gaze flicks over to him, his lips surprisingly curled in a smile.
“Wonder how tight our princess will get with both of us in her,” Suguru hums, and your mouth falls open at his words, “wonder who’s name she’ll scream first,”
“If you have to wonder, then you’ll know it’s mine,” and Satoru is forcing your gaze back to him, “what do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to handle us both?”
And you can’t believe your ears, as you glance between them, “but what about choosing?” And Suguru chuckles, two fingers unbuttoning his pants, dragging them down to pool around his ankles, his cock straining against the fabric of his briefs, a wet patch where the head rested.
“Right now, the only thing I want you to choose between is whether you want my cock in your cunt first or in your mouth,” and Satoru only grins, his large palms sliding down your back, and under your ass and thighs.
“Want some help getting there, baby?” and you’re biting your lip and nodding, and he’s lifting you with ease, pressing wet kisses down your neck, before placing you on your knees in front of Suguru.
Suguru looks down at you, lips twitching upward into a grin, “Have you made your decision, princess?” and you nod wordlessly, as you settle on your knees between his thighs, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the damp fabric of his briefs, making him hiss.
“Wanna taste you before you fuck me, Sugu,” your fingers sliding into the elastic of his briefs and tugging them down, his pretty cock nearly slapping both your face and his shirt as you free it from its confines. He’s a little thicker than Satoru, you can barely get your lips around him, but Satoru had a easier time hitting the back of your throat, “need your cum down my throat,” and he’s grunting, your lips kissing the tip of his cock, tongue darting out to collect the precum leaking from the slit. Your tongue then drags along his vein, making him hiss, as Satoru only grins, adjusting himself in his slacks.
“Don’t know why I haven’t fucked this perfect mouth sooner,” Suguru groans, the weight of his cock was so nice in your warm and wet mouth. Your fingers stroked what you couldn’t fit, as Satoru sits back and watches, his gaze boring into your back, as you hear the click of his belt, and you know Satoru is undressing behind you, “now you’re going to know what it’s really like to have your mouth full, princess,”
And Satoru scoffs, his footsteps growing closer to you, as you hear the dull slump of his clothes against the carpet, “Jealous that I fucked it first and fucked it better, Suguru?”
Suguru’s fingers weave into your hair, tugging at it lightly, making you moan around his aching cock, making him grunt, “We’ll see about that,” and then you feel a pair of lips pressing a constellation of kisses along your back, as Satoru presses himself against you, his cock sliding between your thighs, teasing your aching cunt, “don’t wanna just enjoy the show this time, wanna be a part of it, ain’t that right, baby?”
Your cunt is fluttering around nothing as he rubs his cock against your outer lips and thighs, drawing more moans out of you, your fingers stuttering with their touch, until a sharp pull at your hair, draws your gaze upwards.
“Don’t forget whose cock you’re sucking, princess,” and his hips shallowly thrust against you, tip brushing against your throat, making you gasp, fingers digging into his thighs, “or I’ll remind you,”
“Oh, so scary, Suguru,” Satoru snorts from behind, as he steadies you from behind, his tongue dragging up your back, “now c’mon baby, squeeze your thighs for me like a good girl,”
You re-double your efforts with Suguru, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as he slowly began to snap his hips and fuck your throat, all the while moaning around his cock as Satoru fucked your thighs. You squeezed your thighs, his cock slipping against your dripping cunt, making your walls flutter around nothing.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re dripping aren’t you? Making my cock all messy before I’m even inside you,” Satoru is leaning down, grazing his teeth against the soft flesh of your back, before his own thighs on either side of you, force your legs closed tighter, making him groan, “don’t think I can wait much longer to fuck this little princess cunt,”
“You’re going to have to, I’m first, after all the stunts you’ve pulled, Satoru,” and Suguru is close, his words coming out as pants, rutting against your mouth, his lidded eyes meeting your teary eyed ones, “that pussy is mine first,”
And Satoru lets out a breathy chuckle as your pussy twitches at his words, as he continues to roll his hips into you, driving your mouth deeper onto Suguru’s cock, “if you’re that eager, don’t think our princess would mind having us both at the same time, now would she?” Satoru drags his tip against your clit, making you whine against Suguru. And you’re whimpering, unable to nod, but Suguru moans, hips stuttering, as you swallow around his dick.
“That’s it, my greedy girl — g’nna cum down your throat, swallow every drop,” Suguru groans, his hips rut into your mouth, his warm load painting your throat, as you swallow his cum eagerly. He fucks himself into your mouth, your name leaving his lips as he pants, working himself through his orgasm, “that’s it, good fucking girl,”
“I’ve trained her well,” Satoru grunts, “can take cock like a pro, can’t you baby?” And you’re pulling yourself off Suguru’s cock, a mix of saliva and cum connecting you to his dick, tongue licking your lips clean, watching Suguru’s chest heave.
You moan as Satoru fucks his cock between your thighs, the tip dragging against your dripping pussy, “Look at the fucking mess you’re making of my office, Princess,” Suguru coos, his fingers cupping your chin, and thumb brushing against your bottom lip, as he palms himself lazily, “think she’s ready for both of us, Satoru?”
Satoru is close, squeezing your thighs tighter around his cock, “not yet, think this cunt needs your fingers stretching her out first,” and his cock twitches again, “fuuuck I’m close, sweetheart,” and he’s turning you over onto your back, lifting your legs up against his chest, fucking his cock between your thighs. And it’s too much for you, as you moan, clenching around nothing, your slick slipping down, as Satoru groans, before he’s painting your face white with his cum.
And Satoru is panting, as he’s pulling you into his arms, collecting his cum with his fingers from your flushed face. His fingers drag down your lips, urging you to suck on them, “Fuck, Princess, so fucking hot,” and he’s leaning down to lick the length of your cheek, chuckling, “you taste like me, baby,”
“Don’t hog her, Satoru,” Suguru chides, as he takes off his button up, and Satoru is shooting him a glare, before handing you over.
And Suguru is grabbing you up, pulling you into his lap, pressing your back against his chest, letting your legs spread, pussy leaking your release all over him. He hissed as his cock rubs against you, “you’re fucking drenching me, you already ruined my carpet and desk, gonna ruin my couch too now, sweetheart,”
His fingers part your folds, thumb bearing down on your aching clit, making you gasp, “So sensitive, haven’t even had our cocks yet, wonder if you’ll cry,” he hums, all too pleased, “gotta stretch you out first,”
And his lithe finger begins to circle your lips, before sinking into your cunt and making you gasp, “So tight even after Satoru ate you out — what do you think, Satoru, three fingers or four?” And he’s already sinking another finger in, beginning to bully your walls, scissoring and stretching, as he pumps his fingers into you steadily.
Satoru hums as he comes over, rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, drawing another moan from your lips, “Four, got to be sure she’ll fit us both,” and he leans down and takes your other in his lips, sucking before his teeth grazes your nipple.
“Fuck, she got tighter when you started playing with her tits,” Suguru smiles, as you huff in embarrassment, fading into another moan as he slips a third finger in, and it’s almost too much — you’re seeing stars nearly, as his fingers find that spot that makes you squirm and squeal.
“Sugu, fuck, it’s too much—“ and Suguru is only grinning, redoubling his efforts to find that spot again, pistoning his fingers in and out — the squelch of his fingers in your cunt ringing in your ears, as you give a broken whine, “I can’t—”
“Sure you can, baby,” Satoru coos, his teeth grazing the soft flesh of your breast, sucking and licking, making you nearly sob, “feels so good, look at you, taking his fingers so well—almost there,”
And Suguru finally sinks the fourth finger into you, and you’re so fucking stretched out, it feels so good — too good, “Gonna soak my whole hand at this rate, Princess,” and you’re only gasping and whining, grinding your hips against his fingers, wantonly chasing your high, and Satoru has the best view of it all — your swollen lovely lips parted, your eyes fluttering, and your pretty pussy fluttering around his best friend’s fingers. And Satoru can’t wait to see it all again, when they sink into you.
You can’t hold back, your voice raw and broken, “I’m g’nna—” and Suguru is grabbing your chin, pulling into a sloppy kiss, his lips gliding against yours, saliva running down the corners of both of your lips, swallowing your moans eagerly. And finally your back is arching against his chest, his fingers relentless even as you do orgasm, fucking your walls through it, thrusting your release back into you.
“That’s it, pretty,” Suguru murmurs, as he’s pulling his lips from you, dragging his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “think you’re ready for us now, aren’t you?”
“More than,” Satoru hums, as his fingers spread your pussy lips making you moan, before spanking your abused cunt, pulling a gasp from your lips, “who’s first?”
And Suguru is manhandling you so that you’re settled in his lap, facing him, “You got to watch her pretty face when she cums, now it’s my turn,” and the tip of leaking erection brushing against your sensitive cunt, making you lurch against him, “so responsive as always,”
“Hurry up, Suguru,” he’s grumbling, as he presses himself behind you, dragging his cock between your ass, making you whine, “wanna feel this pretty princess cunt milk me already,”
Suguru chuckles, leaning forward to kiss along your jaw, “Baby, think Satoru is more desperate than you are,” and you’re smiling against his lips.
“He always is,” you turn to smile at a pouting Satoru, but Suguru takes the opportunity to sink his cock into you, pushing past your walls, making your head snap back, mouth parted in an ‘o’ as his large palms settle on your hips, “Fuuuck, Sugu—”
“I told you to pay attention to who’s fucking you, princess,” he grins, grunting as he bottoms out, his cock twitching inside your walls, “you’re fucking soakin’ my cock, still so fuckin’ tight after I stretched you out,” his hips slowly thrust into you, teasing you, lazily edging your sensitive pussy, “so pretty, so perfect,” and your walls flutter around him, “fuck, you like that, huh?”
“Such a whore for our praise, huh?” Satoru pressing messy kisses to your neck, as he lines up himself in your cunt, “tell me you want this,”
“Fuckin’ hurry up, Satoru, or I’m gonna burst before you even fuck her,” Suguru growls, his hips snapping a little too roughly that has you crying out, as Satoru makes you look at him, thumb cupping your chin.
“Tell me, pretty, tell me how much you want both our dicks inside you,” Satoru croons, and his lips are pressing chaste butterfly kisses to you in contrast to the dirty words he says, with the slick sounds of Suguru fucking your needy cunt.
“P-please, I need you, need both of you to fuck me,” your words fall from your lips without hesitation, “shit, I swear to god, Toru, just—”
Your mouth falls open when Satoru pushes past your entrance, impaling you further, joining Suguru in your sweet cunt, and your mind is blanking — the fullness of them makes you nearly fall apart right then, the two of them groaning in beautiful synchrony.
“Fuck, didn’t think you could get any tighter or wetter, but you keep proving me wrong,” Suguru moans, squeezing your hips sweetly.
“So fuckin’ good, sweetheart, so, so good for us,” Satoru is mumbling into your shoulder as his hips begin to move against you, his balls slapping against your ass.
They move at different paces — Satoru faster and harder while Suguru was slower and deeper — their dicks driving into you, pressed between their bodies, sticky with sweat. Their hips strike their own rhythms, your orgasm quickly building like a flood, a wave ready to rip through you, as they fuck you again and again.
“Fuck, perfect little princess cunt gonna break our dicks in half,” Satoru groans, as he’s pressing kisses to your neck, “not gonna last much longer, Suguru,”
“Neither is she, judging from how her pussy is squeezing already,” Suguru grunts, as he’s pulling you into a sweet kiss, “now don’t forget, you gotta moan one of our names — moan the name that makes you cum,” and you’re fuckin’ close, so fucking close, you let out a pathetic whine that makes you flush at the sound of it, until they both begin to stutter inside you, hitting deeper, both brushing against that spot again.
“I’m g’nna—” and that’s all you manage before your walls clamp down on them, drawing out pornographic groans from both of them in your ears, as their cocks bottom out, as they cum, emptying their loads into you, fucking their cum inside as you three come down from your highs.
Pants fill Suguru’s office, the squelch of their hips slowing, as they twitch inside your desperately clingy cunt, stilling, as the three of you rest, boneless against one another. Suguru’s lips find yours softly, while Satoru is burying his face in the nape of your neck.
“You know Satoru, this has to be one of your better ideas,” Suguru hums, as he slowly eases out of your pussy, eyes darkening as he watches all of three of your mixed releases leak out of you, “although I’m going to have to get my carpet cleaned now,”
“Worth it,” Satoru sighs, pulling himself out as well, to collapse on the couch beside Suguru, before grabbing at you and pulling you to sit between them both, one of your thighs on either’s leg. His fingers drift to your all too full cunt, before using two fingers to collect some of the cum and stuff it back in, making you yelp, “sorry, baby, can’t have you wasting our cum, can we?” he winks.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, all too exhausted, as your head leans back against the couch, “so where does this leave us?”
And the two best friends share a look, seemingly having the same thought, “Well, at an impasse really,” Suguru sighs, lips curling into a grin.
“You never moaned one of our names, did you?” Satoru hums, pressing needy kisses along your shoulder, “so guess we’ll have to do it all over again.”
“Guess we will, only fair way to decide, isn’t it, Princess?” Suguru cups your cheek, leaning in for another kiss, as Satoru nibbles at your pulse, “again and again and again.”
And again, there was very little that Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto competed for — but you were one thing that they wouldn’t mind competing over for the rest of their lives.
✴︎ a/n: this is @bucky-of-the-opera's fault. all their idea. i simply was possessed while writing this. thank you to them, @laneysmusings, and @lemonpoppy-seed for beta reading and encouraging me to stick through this monster of a fic. its also my first time writing a threesome fsjndkj
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You glared at him. You could take his apathy, his indifference, shove it somewhere deep inside and convince yourself that you felt the same.
"Like what?" His eyes burned into yours. "Like you're jealous or something.""What if I am?"
relationships: Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Gojo x Reader (multiple endings)
content: MDNI !! angst and fluff and smut !! piv sex, fingering, oral (m! + f! receiving), shower + period sex, office sex, semi-public sex, breakups/makeups, heavy flirting/tension, threesome, jealousy
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