Hello~ can I plz request Saja Boys separately react to having a small argument with their girlfriend before she hits them with the: "That's it, no sex for a week!" So in conclusion, tries to put them on a sex ban because she's upset with them. Dom! Saja boys plz.
NO NUT. ALL NERVE — THE SAJA BAN.
You put your foot down and said "no sex" after an argument out of impulse. Bad idea. Now? They're reacting in their own devastating ways.
Pairings - Jinu x reader, Abby x reader, Romance x reader, Mystery x reader, Baby x reader
Type - seperate | 5.3k words
Warning - cunnilingus, oral, pussydrunk abby, squirting, semi public (mystery), mean!baby, sixtynine, creampies, petnames, curse words, messy, whimpering.
JINU SAJA — LOVE STRATEGIST
It wasn’t your most mature idea.
But after Jinu’s comment about your 'questionable impulsive management,' or whatever it is that he blabbed about— you decided to take action. Swift, decisive, a very absolutely most petty action you've ever done.
"No sex," you said, arms crossed, perched on the bed in nothing but one of his oversized shirts. "You’re officially banned."
He looked up from his tablet slowly, the dim lamp behind him making his cheekbones look sharper than usual. One brow raised.
"Banned," he repeated flatly.
You nodded with complete smugness as if you won something.
"Until further notice. Strategic retaliation." You added, trying to be just a little bit in control more than he was.
There was a long, quiet pause. "You do realize," he murmured, setting his tablet down with care, "that I could win this in a single move, right?"
Jinu approached in a calm, methodical manner and sat on the edge of the bed like a man preparing a chessboard. His voice was low, coaxing.
"You’re simply ruffled—" he spoke before you cut him off with an offended expression . "Ruffled? What am i? A bird?" Jinu sighs with a gentle smile that teetered on the edge of smirking, "crabby? grouchy? either way that’s when you say things like this."
He leaned in slightly. "But you forget something, love."
He touched nothing. Only let his breath brush your cheek as he spoke "i’m a strategist."
"And you’re an idiot if you think I won’t outlast you," you replied, though your voice wobbled slightly.
He chuckled softly but it was obvious how confident he is. "I’m not trying to break the rules, love. I’m trying to make you reconsider them."
His hand rose slow, slow but stopped just beside your face, not quite touching.
"Look, I'll play by your rules. I won’t kiss you. I won’t touch you." Raising both his hands in the air in fake defeat. "But I’ll talk to you like this. I’ll stand close enough for you to remember.. everything. I’ll brush by with my cologne and never look back."
He grinned. Devilish. Beautiful.
"You want to play with restraint, sweetheart? You forget who you’re up against."
And maybe he's right, because on day three you were already losing.
Two days were easy, busying yourself with everything you could.
Every glance he gave you came wrapped in velvet and challenge. He’d whisper praise in your ear while you brushed your teeth. Bring you coffee in bed shirtless, just shirtless enough to be suspicious. Read next to you on the couch, legs touching just enough to remind you what he wasn’t doing.
You failed spectacularly.
You found him in the living room, halfway through some dry nonfiction book he's not even actually reading.
He didn’t even look up when you stood in front of him, arms folded. "You smug bastard." You barked.
Jinu closed a page with a saved bookmark. "Hmm?"
"You know what you’re doing." Trying to at least catch a glimpse of his facade faltering. But he stayed.
He placed down the book gently and finally met your gaze.
You stepped closer. Straddled his lap nothing more than a flimsy oversized white plaid shirt with no panties. No nothing. Perhaps he'll give in.
He didn’t move. Didn’t touch you.
"Say the ban is over." It was more of a demand.
He leaned closer, voice silk
"Say it, or I’ll stop." He could smell your arousal, could see the way your pink folds were tacky and slick with your desire. It made his mouth water, made his cock jerk and leak in his pants as he gazed at the feast laid out before him.
Swiping two long digits from the bottom to upwards, grabbing as much as he could. Parting his fingers creating a glossy web and your composure shattered. "Fine," you muttered. "Ban’s over."
"Louder." He plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out of your velvet walls, stretching you open, preparing you for what was to come. His thumb rubbed relentless circles over your clit.
Tilting his head, looking entirely too pleased.
He curled his fingers just right, rubbing against that G-spot, making your back arch off the bed and your hips buck wildly against his hand.
"Shit, i said—" trying your best to utter the words, "the ban is o-over."
Big palms reached down and gripped his thick shaft, aligning the broad head with your soaked, fluttering entrance. Slowly, torturously, you sank down, feeling your silky walls parting for him, welcoming him inside.
Inch by inch, you took him in, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you felt yourself being split open, stuffed so full that you swore you could feel him in your fucking throat.
"So fucking good f'me, missed this pussy s'much." Jinu was no better, mumbling nonsense as he lost himself the second your folds rested on his balls.
With a moan, you began to move, lifting your hips until just the tip of his shaft remained inside you, before slamming back down, taking him to the hilt once more. You set a steady rhythm, your hips undulating as you rode him with wanton abandon, lost in the pleasure of being so deliciously full.
every ridge and vein of his huge cock dragging along your sensitive walls as you fucked yourself on him, could feel the way he jerked and throbbed with each bounce, as if he was fighting not to just flip you over. "So good— oh fuck- so good n pretty."
Walls began to flutter and clench around his pistoning shaft, gripping him like a silken fist as your orgasm approached.
"Fuck, can feel you squeezing me..." Jinu grunted, his eyes squeezing shut as he battled to hold back his own release, determined to make you come undone first.
you screamed his name, your voice raw and ragged as your orgasm finally crashed over you, your vision going white as lightning zapped up your spine. Your pussy clenched down hard on his plundering cock, the walls rippling as you came all over his shaft.
As much as you hate to admit, he won.
ABBY SAJA — TOUCH DEPRIVED?!
Abby stood in the kitchen doorway like you’d just slapped out of his hand. His jaw dropped, one sock sliding slightly off his foot from how fast he’d run in after hearing your declaration.
"No kisses. No touching. And definitely no sex" You crossed your arms with dramatic finality.
He blinked. "Wait, wait, wait— back up." Quickly rambling on as he panicked, "That’s like, the whole relationship combo meal?!" Face turned even paler than a canvas. "Babe, be serious."
You arched a brow and picked up your mug with the calmness of a god exacting divine punishment.
"You said I overreacted to a ‘small thing’—aka, you forgetting to tell me about that super important interview until literally-" You jabber at him before dropping the nuke, "two hours before leaving for OUR DATE."
Abby winced. "Okay, yeah. That was... okay. Look, I suck at dates! And calendars! And remembering things unless they scream!"
"Well I’m screaming now," you said sweetly, sipping your tea.
Abby let out a sound like a wounded seal. "But i'll starve! I could never last a day let alone a week without your—"
Groaning at Abby's annoying excuses, "Should’ve thought of that before you tried to hug me mid-fight and said, 'C’mon babe, we can argue later after some rounds'"
"I WAS NERVOUS." he yelled, then shrunk immediately.
But nonetheless he still had to put up with the no sex ban for quite awhile, promising himself he'll last just so it wouldn't upset you.
An hour later however, he was in full breakdown mode.
You were curled up on the pool lounger just outside the Saja's penthouse, peacefully ignoring the way Abby was flopping dramatically over furniture nearby.
Every five minutes "This ban is ruining my mental health."
Another five minutes "I will disintegrate if I can't have you right now."
For the tenth time "Is cockwarming banned too or can I at least kiss you?"
He dragged the pool lounger that was near to combine with yours before collapsing next to you with a sad little sigh. "I miss my favorite food, 'm hungry" he said mournfully, eyes wide and childlike.
You resisted. Oh, you tried. But when he peeked up at you through messy hair, face pouty and boyish and full of unsaid apologies as his bulky arms peel your legs apart, your heart cracked.
And just when you were about to give in
"Wait—" he said quickly, holding a finger up. "Is the ban officially lifted? Or are you just weak for my stupidly handsome god given face?"
You grabbed your towel to smack him, only for him to place it under your hips.
"You’re lucky your stupid face is cute." Palming his face trying to block it away from melting your guards down.
'So that’s a yes?" he said, grinning way too fast.
"Then I’m making it COUNT." His tall frame folding like a house of cards, movements clumsy and uncoordinated. With all the restraint he had left putting your legs on his broad patterned shoulder. Too warm. Too eager.
You gasped as his tongue finally made contact, the slick, hot muscle parting your slick folds and delving deep into your dripping hole. Abby let out a loud, messy slurp as he began to eat you out with wild abandon, his tongue plunging in and out of your clenching channel, lapping up your fragrant juices like a man starved.
"So- mfff so fuckin' sweeeet." Drool dripped down his chin and onto your thighs as he sucked and slurped noisily, too drunk on you to care about finesse. His sharp eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he savored your tangy essence, addicted to your unique flavor that danced on his tongue. "Can eat you all mpff day, y'know?"
"C-can't get enough of this fucking pussy," he slurred, his words punctuated by fat, open-mouthed kisses pressed against your sopping wet slit.
Sucking the sensitive nub between his lips as he lashed at it with the rough pad of his tongue. At the same time, he plunged two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping hole, pumping them in and out of your clenching channel at a brutal pace.
Your back bowed off the lounger, your tits heaving as you gasped for air as your first orgasm crashed over. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, making a mess of the lounger and the pool deck, marking his face and hair with streaks of your essence.
Abby just grinned like the fucking fool he was, drunk on pleasure and pussy juice, eagerly swallowing every drop he could catch. "You 'kay?" He smooched your pussy folds as if he's talking to it.
The moment you nod a simple 'okay' it's as if you've grant him infinity. He was already diving back in for more, his tongue lapping into your abused hole.
"Abby 's too much— oh god" you whimpered, squirming on the lounger, your body hypersensitive from the intense pleasure. But Abby was too far gone to hear your feeble protests, too consumed by his own desperate need to keep tasting you, to keep pushing you to the very edge of your limits.
The wet, obscene squelches and schlicks of his fingers plunging into your soaked flesh filled the air as your second orgasm crashed. ""I...I can't..." you sobbed, your fingers fisting in his hot pink hair, trying desperately to pull him away "yes you can, baby.. c'mon please just one more."
One more, then another, third, fourth.
He's gonna make it count.
ROMANCE SAJA — ONLY READY.
You didn’t mean to yell. Not at him. Not like that.
See, the argument had started small. A forgotten detail, a missed plan, something he said offhandedly that rubbed your tired nerves the wrong way.
You were exhausted. Overwhelmed. Your words sharper than they needed to be.
"Maybe if you actually listened to me when I talk—"
He'd gone quiet at that, like always. Letting you burn hot while he stood calm in the smoke.
"You’re right," he’d said. That was the thing about Romance. He never raised his voice. Never pushed back when you were hurting.
So you’d said it — a line flung out in the heat of frustration.
"No sex. Just not until you're off the hook."
And Romance blinked once. That was all. A gentle pause like he was giving space for a retraction. But when none came, he just nodded.
"Alright," he murmured. "Whatever you need, love."
You thought it would feel like a win.
Instead, it felt like sleeping in a bed missing its gravity.
He didn’t touch you that night. Didn't kiss your shoulder like he always did before falling asleep. Didn't slide a lazy hand over your hip, or breathe slow against your neck.
Just silence. Gentle and full of distance.
You turned your back on him. But it didn’t help.
Because even with the space, you could feel him.
Romance wasn’t gone. He was just holding back. Out of respect. Out of love.
The next morning, you tried not to show how sorely you missed him. You brushed past his hand when he offered you your coffee. Mumbled thanks. Kept your tone even.
He didn’t push. He didn’t even pout. That somehow made it so much worse.
Romance was domestic in the quietest ways — a hand on your back when you passed, little shoulder squeezes in the kitchen, resting his chin on your head when you were in the fridge too long.
And now? He was a ghost. A warm, visible ghost who would not touch you until you asked him to.
By the second day, you were crawling out of your skin.
You tried to bait him. A sleep shirt that was just his own oversized tee. A casual stretch while reaching for something high, back arching in that way he used to immediately notice.
"Want me to help with the dishes?" he asked softly behind you that evening.
"No," you said. "I’ve got it."
He leaned a hip against the counter but didn’t move closer.
"I can still touch to you, can’t I?" he asked, voice low and careful.
You swallowed. "Of course."
"Just making sure." His voice dipped. " Sex is off the table, but touches isn’t."
His words were tender, but his presence? Devastating. He smelled like the warm fabric of your sheets and honey soap. He didn’t look mad. Just patient. Infuriatingly patient.
You dropped a sponge in the sink with a frustrated huff.
"You’re really not going to- y'know, fuck me?"
"No." His tone was soft as rain. "Because you said not to."
You turned to him, finally looking up — and his eyes were there, waiting. Soft. Patient. But glowing with affection so thick you could feel it from where you stood.
"You always make it hard to stay mad at you," you muttered, glaring at the tile.
"I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I can’t undo the things I miss. But I can honor your boundaries, and wait. That’s what I’ve been doing."
You stared at his chest, hand curling into the hem of his shirt.
"...You’re such a cheat," you whispered.
He chuckled, low and warm, and leaned close enough for his breath to kiss your cheek. "You always break before I do."
Fingers fisting in his shirt, you pulled him close and finally, finally kissed him.
Not like you were angry. Not like you were desperate.
Like you were coming home
Soft. Leisurely. No urgency — just the kind of reverent touch he gave only when the world had quieted.
"Still mad at me?" he whispered into your temple.
"No," you breathed, lips brushing his collarbone. "Still mad at myself, though."
His fingers curled into your waist.
"You’re allowed to be angry. But don’t punish yourself for feeling."
You kissed his throat, slow and warm.
"Does this mean the ban’s lifted?" he asked, all amusement and silk.
"It’s… under review," you mumbled.
He laughed, low and deep. "Then I’ll keep proving I’m worth parole."
And with that, he flipped you gently onto your back lifting those pathetic excuses for clothes "you're absolutely breathtaking," Romance murmured, his deep, velvety.
He leaned down, peppering your shoulder from behind with soft, open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering on your skin like he was tasting the finest delicacy.
His hands, strong and warm, skimmed up your sides, his fingers trailing lightly over the swell of your breasts, teasing the underside of your hardened nipples. He cupped the soft globes, kneading the pliant flesh gently.
Romance slid his hands down to grip your ass, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he held you in place, trapping his cock against your dripping slit. He kneaded and squeezed the globes, pulling them apart slightly before squeezing them back together, the motion making your pussy lips flutter and your juices drip down "look at her, all giddy f'me.."
A needy cry left your lips, "please—"
The musky scent of your arousal permeated the air, filling his nostrils, he rutted his wetting cock onto your folds, collecting as much lubricant as he could. The mushroomy top nudging against your clit leaving electric pleasures.
"Inside.. need— ah fuck- please" and he wasted no time. How can he deny his girl? That wouldn't be romantic.
Romance gripped the base of his shaft, stroking himself slowly as he nudged the engorged head through your drenched entrance pressing forward, letting just the crown breach your tight opening.
A guttural moan tore from his throat, "perfect, so p- perfect." he hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, impaling you on his shaft over and over.
Each thrust striking your cervix, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass as he fucked into you with long, purposeful strokes. "Fit just- for me, so filthy n' tight" The kitchen filled with the erotic symphony of flesh meeting flesh, your wanton moans and cries of pleasure punctuated by the wet, obscene squelches plap plap plap as his heavy balls drawing up tight to his body as his orgasm built in intensity. But he was determined to make you come first, Romance slammed into you and ground his pelvis against yours, his pubic bone rubbing against your throbbing clit as his thick shaft pulsed deep inside you. At the same time, he pinched your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and rubbing the sensitive nub "cum, come on- ahh s'so fucking tight i cant— come with me."
Your juices gushed out around his pistoning shaft, flooding your channel and dripping down onto the marble countertop below.
His hips jerked erratically as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his shaft throbbed and jerked inside you filling to the brim like such a thick creamy gloop.
Kissing your temple gently with soft loving words easing in "Mm.. I'll take it as I'm forgiven."
MYSTERY SAJA — WINNERS, LOSERS.
He came home at 2:47 a.m., the way he always did — quietly, like fog slipping under a locked door. You didn’t hear the front door creak. You didn’t hear his boots. Just the shift of air pressure and the way your spine instinctively knew he was in the room.
You didn’t turn around. Didn’t greet him.
You just curled deeper into the side of the bed he hadn’t touched in four days.
Your voice broke the silence. Cold. Controlled.
"Don’t even think about touching me."
He paused in the dark. You could feel it, the way the stillness rippled, how even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.
You turned to look at him finally, eyes narrowing against the hallway light he’d accidentally let spill through the door.
"I mean it," you said, sitting up. "No touching. No kissing. No sex. I’m not doing this anymore. You disappear whenever you want, and then just show up like nothing happened—like I’m the one waiting for you to breathe life into the room again."
He stood in the doorway, tall and still, the collar of his coat damp with rain.
You expected him to leave again.
Instead, Mystery entered the room.
Slow. Controlled. Silent.
He peeled off his coat first — rain-slick and heavy — draped it over the back of the chair. Then the gloves. Then the harness. All quiet. Methodical.
You could feel the tension in his movements, the restraint in every inch of his body. He didn’t ask for forgiveness. Didn’t try to justify his absence.
He simply walked toward the bed deliberate, firm.
But you cut yourself off when his body leaned over you slowly putting his cheek on your shoulder, nuzzling himself.
It was a silent plea, Mystery lived off of physical touch, he barely talks but every single damn time he wants to communicate its through actions. Refraining him from doing so it's like cutting him off entirely.
He tilted his head, just slightly. Something in your heart softened. Like the way storm clouds break apart before they cry.
His free hand reached up — knuckles brushing your cheekbone, Voice almost unheard, "don't.. ban."
"You can’t just leave and come back and expect me to open up like nothing happened."
His fingers finally grazed your arm. Light. Testing
It was how he spoke when he meant it.
You looked up at him, throat tight.
"If you’re sorry, then stay. Stay here. Stay in this bed. Stay when I need you."
He met your gaze. Unflinching.
Then, in a whisper so low it felt like velvet against your skin. "...I will."
Cunningly enough, he changed subtly for the whole week.
A hand brushing your lower back when you walked by. A lingering graze along your arm as he handed you your coffee. The way he sat next to you on the couch, knees pressed to yours, thigh warm against your skin, thumb lazily tracing circles against your leg through the blanket.
You glared at him the first few times.
You didn't know how he could be so physically close and still keep his promises.
He wasn’t breaking the ban, no.
He was letting you break it.
Mystery became more present, always near. Always humming something under his breath. Always watching you with a patience that feels like a trap.
You want him to be distant, cold, retreating.
Instead, you get cooked dinners, soft shoulders to lean on, long silences that feel just too comfortable.
It was just irritating, now he wants to spend time with you on the rooftop calling it a 'date'.
You were becoming restless. He knew.
You broke first. He grinned.
You reached up and dragged him down by the collar of his shirt, crashing your mouth to his — rough, hungry, angry.
He groaned into the kiss. Not loud. Just low and wrecked.
Mystery moved with intent. Slow, devastating control. "Still banned?" he rasped against your neck, finally speaking his voice a rare, broken thing, like thunder that doesn’t know how to whisper.
He hummed, pressing his hips against yours in a slow roll that made your ban feel like a lie. "Are you sure?" He cocks.
He let you undo him piece by piece, shirt sliding from his shoulders, his breath shallow, his restraint cracking at the seams.
"You set stupid rules to see if I'll break 'em." One hand released your breast to slide down your belly, his fingers skimming over your navel before delving between your thighs. He cupped your mound possessively, his middle finger pressing against your slick slit, feeling the wetness that had gathered there.
"Nnngh... you're fucking drenched," Mystery groaned, his voice a low, eerily rumble.
Mystery's long, deft fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and with a sharp tug, he yanked them down your thighs, baring your dripping slit to his hungry gaze. He drank in the sight of your glistening folds, swollen, just begging to be devoured. Tossing the ruined lace aside, "look at you, putting up a fight when i could've taken care of this." He purred while the thick head of his cock parting your slick petals. "Now.. tell me how much you want this? lift that useless.. rule."
"Fuck— its lifted i want it." Meeting his smug grin "need.. you, plea—"
he slammed forward, burying every rigid inch of his thick shaft inside you with one brutal thrust. A guttural groan tore from his throat as your silken walls clenched down around him,
Reaching down and pressed his thumb roughly against your sensitive, aching clit. "ohfuckohfuckohfuck!" Wailing at how good you feel around him.
He could feel it, you could feel it. Just before he reached his peak, he abruptly pulled out, his curvy cock slick with your juices. "please cum— with me ohh feels so go-ohd!" fist flying over his thick length as he chased his rapidly building release as he aimed the swollen, leaking tip at your sensitive clit.
Pearly ropes of cum erupted from the tip, splattering lewdly across your oh so sweet cunt, coating your lower abdomen in his hot, sticky seed.
Moonlight casting a glow on both skins, his pale ones almost translucent due to the sleek sweat coating him. Mumbling sorry's and love you's as he desperately nuzzles himself, head spinning high.
BABY SAJA — NO? FINE. ROT WITH IT.
You’d said it on impulse.
"You’re not getting anything tonight. Or tomorrow. Or until I say so."
Baby had stilled mid-step, mid-breath, mid-whatever sarcastic retort he’d had locked and loaded.
And then he just… smiled.
The kind that made your spine stiffen and your thighs clench in the same second.
Baby thrives on chaos, so if you, his lover, suddenly bans him from sex, he’s not taking it with quiet grace. Not even close.
He’s not above throwing a tantrum—but his kind of tantrum is the mean, smug, backhanded compliment-filled type that leaves you wanting to strangle him and kiss him at the same time.
"Ohhh," he drawled, clapping slowly. "How *terrifying."
You scowled. "I’m serious."
"Oh, I know. That’s the funniest part." He turned on his heel, dramatic as always, walking off toward the bedroom with his arms raised like he’d been wrongly imprisoned.
"I hope your moral high ground keeps you warm tonight, sugar." he called over his shoulder. "Because i won’t be giving you allllll this.”
Good. That was the point. Right?
Days after and Baby was… unbearable.
He still talked to you. Laughed around you. Sat beside you on the couch.
But he weaponized everything.
He’d come out of the shower shirtless and towel-drying his hair, stopping to stretch right in front of you.
"Oh, whoops —didn’t mean to give you a show. Not that it matters. This body’s banned, remember?"
He’d casually flop onto your lap and sigh dramatically.
"God, I’d kill for some stress relief right now. Shame my girlfriend thinks I should suffer."
He’d even sneak a hand on your thighs in the movie theater, "You’re lucky I have restraint, sweetheart. Old me would've had you here already."
You gritted your teeth. "Then maybe I should ban you longer."
He leaned down, lips brushing your ear with that smug little lilt in his voice. "Then maybe I should stop pretending to behave."
It was a big day for the Saja boys, performing up against the Huntrix. All of them were inside their dressing rooms and like a routine, you were in Baby's dangling your feet listening to their music waiting on the tiny touch.
And Baby walks in like a storm.
Pulls the headphones out. Tosses your phone aside. Climbs on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs, bracing his hands by your head.
"You done punishing me for shit I didn’t do?"
"No? Great. Then I’m done pretending it doesn’t bother me."
He dips down, face inches from yours.
His voice lowers, pure venom-laced honey. "I could’ve had you crying on my tongue by now. Instead I’m sitting here listening to you pretend you’re fine."
Your throat tightens."You’re not fine. You’re stubborn. And maybe I like that. But it's getting annoying,"
He finally leans down, dipped his head, burying his face between your thighs as he inhaled your scent, groaning at the intoxicating aroma of your arousal.
You whined pushing his head nesr your aching core but he held back. "Now it wouldn't be fair if you get what you want now.. right?."
It happend with a snap of a finger, Baby's laying down the couch with you on top him, ass up near his face just how he loves it. The typical sixty fuckin' nine.
Blowing air onto your folds before he taps it "hurry up, get to work. apologize."
His tongue delved deeper, plunging into your soaked, clutching heat as he feast on your dripping slit. He could feel your walls fluttering and clenching around the slick intrusion.
You were crumbling. But so was he.
His hands gripped your thighs tighter, spreading you wider open to him, allowing him to bury his face deeper into your aching core.
At the same time, Baby guided your hand to his rigid shaft, wrapping your fingers around the throbbing length. He groaned against your dripping folds as you began to stroke him, your fist gliding up and down his thick, pulsing cock. "Ohh yeah, easy ain't it?" The sensation of your soft hand around him and your tongue swirling around the sensitive crown of his erection made his hips buck and jerk, fucking into the tight channel of your fist as he ate your pussy with single-minded intensity. "Bein' such a brat with that ahnn shit- stupid ban."
your pleasured gasps and moans vibrating against his own aching flesh as you lapped and suckled at his swollen balls, your fingers pumping faster along his shaft in response to the building ecstasy. "Ba-ahmp! Baby- mpf"
Redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on your throbbing clit as he thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming sheath, stroking that mushy spot with ruthless precision. "There we go, c'mon- ahk dont suck so hard—"
Your thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenched down hard on his fingers, your velvety walls rippling and fluttering "yes yes yes tha's it th'pfff.. tha's it sugar."
Balls-deep in the tight, slick heat of your throat, his shaft jerking and shuddering as thick ropes of scalding cum erupted from the swollen tip. He pumped jet after jet of his potent essence directly down your gullet, "mpff- show mwuch..!?" Gagging hard as cums dribbles out.
His body shuddering and convulsing with the force of his release.
Muffled scream of ecstasy was met by your greedy gulps and swallows, your throat muscles milking his pulsing cock for every last drop of his creamy load as you both rode out the aftershocks of your intense, mind-blowing orgasms.
"Gotta keep the show.. y'know- oh feels s'so empty n good." He grinned, mouth slathered in your.
Tapping his tongue on your folds "let's continue after show yeah? 'least i can focus on stage."
note : i personally liked it, but ngl it is just a little bit rushed. but i hope u still enjoy it, reblogs and likes r lovely!!
