the way your panties are shoved in your mouth, you can taste your own arousal like some common whore. bent over the kitchen counter, your skirt lifted high up, blouse scattered on the floor with your bra along it.
“im sorry sugu—” you protest out, yet your voice is muffled. your baby hairs are sticking to your already sweaty forehead from the constant back and forth movement, meanwhile the rest of your hair was bundled up around suguru’s fist. “if you were truly sorry,” suguru grunts, pounding into your pussy harshly, pulling his shaft half way out before slamming it back inside your walls. “then you wouldn’t have behaved like that out there.” he delivers a spank to your ass with his calloused hand.
“treating me like i’m just some guy you fuck on the weekends,” suguru chuckles to himself at the thought. “thought you said you knew what you were getting into with me, pretty girl- don’t tell me you can’t handle being with an older man anymore…” he sighs dramatically almost.
“i’m disappointed in you.” you hated the way he sounds so genuine as he speaks, because as he spoke he was fucking you so deliciously it was like he was in love with you.(he is)
“say you’re sorry,” he says in a demanding tone, it wasn’t exactly stern like but you could hint that he was ‘upset’.
“i’m sorry-“ you apologize all sloppily, wet slapping sounds echoing in the kitchen and for a second that’s all your brain could focus on, the sounds. but to suguru that ‘apology’ wasn’t good enough, so he tugged on your hair, “more genuine slut. don’t tell me that’s all you can manage.” that tone of his makes everything hotter, he knew how much you loved being degraded as well. “i’m.. ah! i’m really sorry.. sugu’ i swear!!” you squealed, before he starts ruthlessly thrusting his body up into your cunt, his cock piercing your insides and hitting that perfect spot every. single. time.
for a minute you lost your voice, your mouth agape and unable to comprehend a single thought with the way his hand fell from your hair and was now holding your plushy waist with two hands, pulling you up and down on his incredible girth.
oh, and if your wondering how you got here, well you basically falsely introduced suguru to a friend of yours(who was a guy who definitely liked you and was around your age). to him it sounded like the way you introduced him was… ‘this is suguru but we’re just fucking’ when you actually said ‘this is suguru, my boyfriend’. it was also different because you both had an obvious age gap.
both of you guys knew it wasn’t that deep, it was more like you both just wanted to fuck hard- but he definitely let a lot of his possessiveness come out to play.
after that harsh.. moment, suguru came inside, watching his thick load leak out of your sopping cunt as he pulled out.
“let’s get you cleaned up.. yeah?” he hums, his tone going from upset and ‘disappointed’ in you, to loving. “mhhm,” you could feel his cum dripping down your thighs.
and after cleaning up you two watched a movie & cuddled !!!!
face mask time with suguru ˃` ⩌ ´˂ (after mind blowing sex!)
why havent i seen anyone talking about how flowery has a “petalmantle” (aka the cape he holds) equipped when he teams up with you . please someone . hello. can you hear me HELLO
btw i might start yapping about magna carta cartel so if you're staying away from real identities (of ex ghouls) etc then pls block that tag or unfollow or something. it's unlikely i'll have faces or even names on this blog but just being safe
All night, he’d been keeping to himself. Mostly. As much as Rahi is capable to, anyway. An easy conversation here and there, a polite smile easily mistaken for something beyond. Breaking boundaries, as it turns out, is a far easier task than setting them.
Intoxication, he’s found, is key in scenarios like these. In order to relax, to let go of all mechanical knowledge he knows to be at work; something is needed to silence his thoughts out. And so, standing out in the breeze and nurturing another drink, he’s on his way to oblivion — but not quite there, yet.
Still, Rahi carries himself lightly, cheeks a little flushed off the rum. He’s not a heavy drinker, and it shows. But when new samples are offered, he takes two.
“Now you have to drink with me,” he declares, sliding onto a vacant seat. The spare drink, ready to take. “I can’t say no to samples, and I was starting to feel like an alcoholic, just drinking them by myself.” Shrug, “I mean, I was a shot away from telling the bartender about all my life problems. That’s when you know, right?”
