wgtf , husband! hiromi higuruma
husband! hiromi higuruma is a lover boy. trust. i will always be a believer (and a yapper) that this man absolutely fucks like sex is a sacred thing—slow, tender, and vulnerable.
not fucking you like a man, but a husband.
he works his ass off, can't you see him stressing on that shit ass train? the way he dipped into that damn bathtub like it's the last time? yes, he is deprived but also wanting to make you feel special. vulnerability occurs inside that damn house.
he will be very pathetic, asking you politely for what he needs despite the fact that all he wanted to do was to have you—in many ways than sex of course.
but at that moment, maybe sex is what he really needs especially seeing you so gorgeous. like a meal served purposely for a man who works really hard.
being fucking deep inside you is his private language. his cock was fucking throbbing already and eager to meet you— his tip nudging into the soft fabric, feeling the slit excited much like his. wet spot meeting the dripping tip. just like how it should be.
tongues colliding with your fingers deliberately trying to undo his blouse, his bigger one assisting your hand to properly discard his clothes with a slight grin on his lips. like a damn champ. his fourth smile of the day— before he leaves for work, seeing your messages, welcoming him home, and having you like this.
those fucking hips uncontrollably rising, with your lips between his cock. your hand between his thighs, your eyes meeting his eyes— he's fucking impatient but seeing you like this, he could manage. gently brushing your hair, seeing those cheeks hollow, flushed, and saliva dripping into your chin.
he eats pussy like it's a 5 star meal by the way, slow and deliberate but he knows how to feast— to show how to properly thank a very tasty meal serve in front of him.
he could win an award for treating that pussy like its damn sacred, your existence makes him vulnerable. with your hands claws into his back, pelvis meeting each thrust.
his face buried into your neck, moaning your name quietly while feeling the tight and sloppy walls between his cock— slow enough to make each thrust painfully good. his tip kissing the cervix, like hell.
your praises, it sounds like a damn drug in his ears. like he forgets the fact he almost everything pissed him off a week straight. he's a good husband, who pleases his wife well.
and when he spilled inside, he holds you like he's not even thinking of letting go soon. i love you, i love you, i love you fuck.
and maybe then, seeing your belly swollen would be a good sight too.
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : in my quiet existence in this app, this man made me write again. fuh, im obsessed w him.
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