"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

every little thing you did chipped at him. the way you waved from your balcony in the mornings wearing nothing but a thin tank top and no bra, nipples stiff from the cool air. the way you asked him once, all sweet and shy, if he knew how to fix a leaking faucet and stood too close while he worked, soft focused grunts leaving is chest and his rolled-up sleeve. after that night he jerked off twice before he could even get his jeans off, coming so hard he had to brace one hand on the shower tile just to stay upright.

he hated how easily you affected him. hated that a girl barely old enough to rent her own apartment could make a man like him, a man who prided himself on control, feel like some desperate teenager again. his sex life used to be something he managed. now it was just quiet frustration and the occasional guilty stroke while he thought about how small you would look under him, how tight you would feel, how pretty you would sound moaning his name.

then came the router. you knocked on his door at nine-thirty one random night, voice small and embarrassed over the phone first, then in person when he opened up still dressed in his white button-up and black jeans.

nanami stands at your doorway with one hand already in his pocket, the other holding the small toolbox he keeps for these exact random neighbor emergencies all ready, and he tells himself for the tenth time that this is nothing. just a quick fix.

your voice is soft and a little embarrassed over he’s not surprised. “sorry to bother you, nanami-san, but my wifi router just died and i have no idea what i’m doing with these things.” he had sighed, told you he would be right over, and now here he is, hating every single second because the moment you open the door he feels it again. that pull. that stupid, inconvenient heat low in his gut that has been creeping up on him since the day you moved in.

you are wearing your famous oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and tiny sleep shorts that ride up when you shift your weight, bare feet on the hardwood, skin glazed with a thin layer of sweat like you had been lounging on the couch all evening.

you smile at him, grateful and a little shy, and nanami’s jaw tightens. he is forty, a divorced but settled, a man who likes order and quiet and routines that do not include getting half-hard at the sight of his much younger neighbor’s collarbones. yet here he is, eyes dragging down the line of your neck before he forces them back up.

“thank you so much for coming,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is warm, a little breathy from the relief of not having to deal with it alone. the apartment smells faintly of vanilla and whatever takeout you had for dinner.

nanami nods once, polite as always, and follows you toward the corner where the router sits on a low shelf. he can feel the weight of his own body, the clean but lived-in scent of his white button-up clinging slightly to his skin after a long day, black jeans sitting snug on his hips. he is musty in that grown-man way, soap and faint cologne mixed with the faint trace of office air and the walk over, nothing overpowering but undeniably male. he knows it. he hopes you do not notice how it fills the small space between you.

you hover close while he crouches down to look at the router, your thigh brushing his shoulder as you point at the blinking lights. “it just stopped working out of nowhere. i tried restarting it but…” your words trail off when he glances up.

his eyes catch on the way your t-shirt hangs loose, the soft swell of your tits visible at the neckline, the smooth skin of your legs right there at eye level. he should look away yet nanami does not. instead his gaze lingers, slow and heavy, tracing the curve of your hip, the way the hem of those shorts digs into the flesh of your thigh. he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, thickening against the zipper before he can stop it.

fuck.

he shifts his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only makes the fabric pull tighter.

“let me see,” he mutters, voice lower than he intends, rough around the edges. his fingers work the cables, checking connections, but his mind is not on the router. it is on you. on how you smell like warm skin and faint lotion, on how you keep biting your lip while you watch him, on how easily he could reach out and slide his palm up the back of your thigh.

he has been trying to ignore it for weeks. it takes him back to the way you wave at him from your balcony in the mornings, the sound of your laugh carrying through the thin walls when you are on the phone with friends, the soft thump of your music when you cook.

every little thing has been chipping away at his carefully built restraint. he is older. he should know better. but his body does not care about should.

he stands up slowly, taller than you by a good amount, and when he does his chest brushes your shoulder. you do not step back and the air between you feels thick, charged, and nanami’s eyes drop again, this time to your mouth, then lower to where your nipples have tightened under the thin shirt.

he swallows hard. his cock is fully hard now, pressing insistently against the front of his black jeans, the outline obvious if you were to look down. he turns slightly, pretending to fiddle with the router settings on his phone, but the movement only highlights the bulge.

he can feel the heat of it, the way it throbs when you lean in closer to see what he is doing, your breath ghosting over his forearm.

“is it the cable?” you ask, voice quieter now, like you have noticed the shift too. your eyes flick to his face, then down, then back up, and nanami sees the faint flush creeping up your neck. good. at least he is not suffering alone. he clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the device, but his free hand flexes at his side, knuckles whitening. he wants to touch you. wants to back you against the wall and slide those tiny shorts down your legs, wants to feel how wet you already are because he can smell it, that sweet faint arousal mixing with your usual scent.

his mind supplies the image without permission: you bent over the couch, his cock buried deep while he grips your hips and fucks the whimpers out of you. he exhales sharply through his nose.

“try it now,” he says, stepping back just enough to give you space, but not enough to hide anything. the router lights flicker green. you pull out your phone to test the connection and let out a small happy sound that goes straight to his dick.

“it works! oh my god, thank you, nanami-san.” you turn to him fully, eyes bright, and for a second he lets himself look. really look. at the way your chest rises with each breath, at the bare stretch of thigh, at how your lips part when you realize he is staring.

he does not smile. his expression stays bland, almost stern, but his eyes are dark and hungry, eye-fucking you so openly now that there is no pretending. his cock strains harder against the denim, a small wet spot forming where he is leaking, and he makes no move to hide it.

he is half heartedly relieved you do not notice. your gaze still stuck on your phone screen, lashes fluttering, and when you look back up, you read there is something new in his expression, something needy and waiting to be unleashed.

nanami’s voice comes out rougher than he means. “you should get a better router. this one is outdated.” it is the most neutral thing he can think of, but it does not matter.

the tension is already there, thick and undeniable, wrapping around both of you in the half-unpacked living room. he can feel his pulse in his cock, the heavy ache of it, the way his balls feel tight just from standing this close to you. he wants to hate how easily you affect him.

he does hate it. but he cannot stop the slow drag of his eyes over your body one more time, imagining exactly how you would look spread open on his bed, taking every inch while he tells you how long he has been fighting this.

you shift on your feet, thighs pressing together, and nanami catches the tiny movement. his jaw clenches. he should leave. he should say goodnight and go back to his quiet apartment and jerk off to the memory like he has done more nights than he cares to admit.

your heartbeat picks up its rate, your finger tips sweaty. you feel the air thickening already, noticing the print of your neighbors dick without even looking down.

“so maybe you could stay and i could make you some te–” your proposal is short lived.

“i’ve fixed what you’ve called me to help for. goodnight.” his stern voice catches you off guard, watching him collect and grab the toolbox on the floor that was forgotten seconds ago. you try to say something but stay frozen when he pushes past you, his neck veins slightly showing on his skin.

nanami strides out fast. because right now, with his cock hard and obvious and his control fraying at the edges, he is not sure he has the strength to stay in the same room with you.

and so he leaves you standing in the middle of your apartment with your wifi fixed and a pile of notifications ‘ding-ing’ every seconds.

+

a week drags by in thick, unspoken tension that sits heavy between the thin apartment walls like smoke that refuses to clear.

nanami wakes each morning with the same stern resolution burning behind his eyes: keep the distance, lock it down, pretend the night you called him over for the router never happened. he leaves for the office before the sun fully rises, comes home long after the hallway lights have dimmed, and when he passes your door he keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards like they hold the answers to every moral question he has been asking himself since he first felt that inconvenient throb in his jeans. but the memory refuses to fade.

it lingers in the shower when hot water runs down his chest and his hand wraps around his cock without permission, stroking slow and frustrated while your freshly known name slips out between gritted teeth like a confession he wishes he could swallow back.

it follows him into bed at night, where he lies stiff on his back and remembers the exact shade of flush that crept up your neck when his eyes dragged too long over your body.

he hates it. hates how easily a girl barely out of her early twenties can unravel the careful, quiet life he has built for himself. he is older, disciplined, a man who values order and restraint above almost everything, yet here he is, reduced to stolen glances through the balcony railing and late-night strokes that leave him emptier than before.

you do not make any of it easier. you still wave at him from across the narrow gap between your balconies in the mornings, soft smile curving your lips like you know exactly what you are doing to him. you leave polite little notes taped to his door about shared packages or the new recycling bins downstairs, your handwriting neat and looping in a way that makes his fingers tighten around the paper every time.

each accidental brush of your fingers when you hand him mail in the hallway sends a spark straight down his spine, and every polite “good morning, nanami-san” you offer chips away at the walls he keeps trying to reinforce. he catches the sound of your laugh through the thin wall sometimes when you are on the phone with people… your age, light and warm, and his cock thickens in his slacks before he can stop it.

he tells himself it is nothing. just proximity. just the natural reaction of a man who has been alone too long. but deep down he knows the truth: you have gotten under his skin, and the more he tries to push it away the harder it pulls.

tonight the last thread of his restraint finally frays and snaps.

the familiar knock comes at exactly the time he wishes it to, soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet of his evening like a hook sinking into flesh.

nanami opens the door still dressed from the office, white button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, black jeans sitting low on his hips, the faint musty-clean scent of him drifting out into the hallway, clean and faint cologne and the long day clinging to his skin.

you stand there in another oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and those same tiny sleep shorts that have been haunting him, hair not perfect like you had been caught up in something… private, cheeks already carrying that telltale pink flush. it’s as if last week was repeating itself.

“the router again,” you say, voice small and breathy, but your eyes are not on any imaginary problem. they trace the open collar of his shirt, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his chest fills the doorway. “it keeps dropping signal. i tried everything you showed me last time but… i think i need your help again.”

he should tell you no. should suggest you call the building manager in the morning this time and close the door before the air between you thickens any further. instead he exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and reaches for the small toolbox he keeps by the door without saying a word.

he follows you next door, the faint click of the lock behind him sounding louder than it should. the moment you are both inside the living room the atmosphere shifts, warmer and heavier, like the space itself is holding its breath. you lead him to the same corner shelf where the router sits, but this time you do not hover at a polite distance.

you stand close enough that your bare arm brushes his rough skin when he crouches down to look. the lights on the router are steady green. he knows it is working fine the second he glances at it. and most definitely you know it.

the excuse is paper-thin and neither of you bothers to pretend otherwise.

nanami rises slowly, turning to face you fully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you in the soft lamplight. his eyes do the same slow, solemn drag they did the week before, only heavier now, sharpened by seven long days of fighting the memory of your body.

he watches the way your nipples have already tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, the subtle press of your thighs together like the ache between them is already building. his cock responds immediately, swelling thick and heavy inside his black jeans, the thick ridge becoming obvious as it presses against the denim. he’s sure a faint damp spot is beginning to form, but he does not try to hide it this time. he lets you see. lets the weight of his stare settle on you like a touch.

“the router is working fine,” he says, voice low and rough, carrying that same stern tone he always uses, like he is delivering a verdict in court rather than standing in your living room with a hard-on he cannot will away. “you know that as well as i do. why did you really call me over here?”

you swallow visibly, eyes flicking down to the clear outline of his cock straining against his jeans before rising back to his face.

your chest rises and falls with a heavier breath, lips parting slightly, but instead of answering you take one slow step back. then another. your hands move to the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking under the fabric, and you bend forward just enough to slide them down your legs in one smooth motion.

the shorts pool at your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you in nothing but a pair of grey lace panties with delicate pink ribbons threaded along the edges. the soft fabric clings to the curve of your pussy, the faint outline of your folds visible through the thin material, and nanami’s right leg twitches involuntarily, his cock jerking hard inside his jeans at the sight.

his brows draw together in a quick pretend of frown, serious expression tightening. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice dropping even lower, a clear warning threaded through the words. but you do not stop. your fingers catch the hem of your oversized t-shirt next, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the delicate dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts.

you pull the shirt up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside the shorts, and now you stand there in only the grey lace panties, tits bare, nipples stiff in the cool air of the room. nanami’s breath catches, his hands flexing hard at his sides, the long fingers curling into fists as he fights the urge to reach for you.

he says your name then, low and rough, the syllables heavy with warning. “don’t.” but you only smile, small and soft and knowing, and continue. your thumbs hook into the waistband of the panties, sliding them down your hips with agonizing slowness, the lace catching briefly on the swell of your ass before you let them fall.

you step out of them completely, now fully naked in front of him, skin flushed warm under his heavy gaze. you walk toward him, bare feet quiet on the floor, hips swaying just enough to make your tits move softly with each step. when you are close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from your body, when his mouth opens to speak again, you lift one finger and press it gently to his lips, shushing him.

nanami lets out a small, broken sound, half whimper, half groan, the noise slipping out before he can stop it. his cock throbs visibly in his jeans, another bead of pre-cum soaking into the fabric as the tension coils tighter in the narrow space between your bodies.

he exhales shakily against your finger, eyes dark and conflicted, thick needy lines deepening on his face. “you’re a very young girl…” he trails off, voice rough and strained, the words carrying the weight of every reason he has been telling himself to stay away.

you pull your finger back just enough to speak, voice soft but steady. “i’m legal.”

“barely,” he counters immediately, the word clipped, his gaze dropping despite himself to the bare curve of your breasts, it taught him to squeeze on them and make you feel good, the soft swell of your hips, the smooth skin between your thighs where he can already see the faint shine of arousal. “you’re barely twenty-something. i’m more than twice your age. this… this is not appropriate.”

you tilt your head slightly, still standing naked and unashamed in front of him, the tension so thick it feels like the air itself has weight. “and yet you’re standing here with your cock so hard i can see it twitching through your jeans,” you murmur, eyes flicking down pointedly to the obvious bulge. “you’ve been avoiding me all week, nanami-san, but you still came over the second i knocked. tell me again how inappropriate this is.”

caught him red handed. fuck you.

he lets out another low groan, the sound vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up like he might push you away but instead hovering just above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint. “you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says, voice quieter now, almost pained. “i’m not some young man who can just… give in without consequences. you deserve better than an older neighbor who can’t keep his eyes off you.”

the banter stretches, slow and heavy, every word laced with the electric pull between you. you step even closer, your bare breasts brushing the front of his white shirt, nipples dragging against the fabric, and nanami’s breath hitches sharply. “then why does it feel like you’ve been thinking about this as much as i have?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “why do you look at me like you want to bend me over every time we pass in the hall?”

his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking visibly, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as his cock continues to throb between you.

“because i do,” he admits finally, the words dragged out like they cost him something. “i want to. more than i should. but you’re young. barely out of college. and i’m… this.” he gestures vaguely at himself, the musty yet cleaned scent of his body stronger now with the heat rising off his skin, the faint sweat dampening the collar of his shirt. “a tired man who should know better.”

you smile again, softer this time, and reach up to trace one finger along the line of his jaw. “then stop fighting it for one night,” you whisper. “just let yourself have me. i want you, nanami. i’ve wanted you since the first time you fixed my router and looked at me like you were starving.”

the silence stretches again, thick and humming with tension, his breath coming heavier now, chest rising and falling against yours. his hand finally settles on your waist, large palm warm and slightly rough against your bare skin, thumb stroking once, slow and deliberate.

he does not pull you closer yet, but he does not push you away either. the battle is still there in his eyes, solemn and conflicted, but the hunger is winning, inch by aching inch, as the minutes tick by in the quiet room and his cock continues to strain painfully against his jeans, waiting for the moment his restraint finally gives out completely.

nanami’s hand tightens on your waist, fingers spanning wide enough to nearly wrap around the curve of it, and the last of his resistance crumbles like dry paper under the heat of your bare skin against his palm.

he exhales once, long and shaky, eyes still calculated but dark now with the kind of hunger he has been trying to bury for weeks, and then he is moving, guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sink down onto the cushions. he follows without a word, dropping to his knees between your spread thighs like a man who has finally stopped pretending he can walk away.

his broad shoulders push your legs wider, the white button-up stretching tight across his chest as he leans in, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. he looks up at you one last time, jaw set, like he is giving you one final chance to tell him no, but you only slide your fingers into his neatly combed hair and tug him closer. that is all it takes.

his mouth finds your pussy like he has been starving for it, lips parting to drag a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tongue flat and heavy as he tastes you properly for the first time. the groan that vibrates out of his chest is low and rough, almost pained, because you are already soaked, slick coating his tongue in a way that makes his cock jerk hard inside his jeans.

he licks again, slower this time, savoring the way your thighs tremble on either side of his head, then seals his mouth around your clit and sucks gently, tongue flicking in tight little circles that have your back arching off the couch. one of his huge hands slides up your stomach, palm pressing flat just below your navel, and he pushes down with just enough pressure to make your pussy clench around nothing.

the size of his hand there is obscene, fingers spread wide so his pinky rests near the base of your ribs and his thumb brushes the top of your mound, the sheer scale of him against your smaller frame making everything feel tighter, hotter, more overwhelming.

nanami eats you out like he has all night and nothing else matters, tongue sliding deep between your folds before circling back up to your clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that builds slow and relentless. his free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider, thumb digging into the soft flesh while he buries his face deeper, nose pressing against your mound as he drinks down every drop of you. the wet sounds fill the quiet room, wet and loud, his groans mixing with the slick slide of his tongue and the shaky breaths you keep letting out.

he keeps that steady pressure on your lower belly the whole time, palm rubbing slow circles that make your insides twist and flutter, the tummy bullying so deliberate it feels like he is trying to feel exactly where his mouth is working from the inside. your hips twitch, trying to ride his face, but he holds you down with that big hand, keeping you exactly where he wants you while he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

when you come it hits hard and sudden, pussy pulsing against his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head and a broken moan spills out of you. nanami does not stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower now but just as thorough, tongue dragging over your oversensitive clit until your whole body jerks and you try to squirm away from the intensity.

he only presses his palm firmer against your stomach, holding you in place, the slight overstimulation making your eyes water and your voice crack on his name. “nanami…plea– fuck, it’s too much,” you whimper, but he just hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spark through your core, and slides two thick fingers into your still-clenching pussy without warning. they stretch you wide, the size of them so much bigger than your own that you feel every knuckle, every ridge, as he curls them deep and starts pumping slow and steady.

he lifts his head just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside you, eyes dark and tempting, lips shiny with your slick. “look at how well you take them,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, the praise low and almost reverent as he presses down on your belly again with his other hand, feeling the way his fingers create a very faint bulge against your walls from the outside.

the pressure makes everything tighter, more intense, and you clench hard around him, another wave of overstimulation crashing through you while he keeps fingering you through the aftershocks. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you shaking, the combination of his thick fingers stretching you open and the firm press on your tummy turning every breath into a broken little sob.

he does not rush. he just keeps working you, long fingers dragging along that perfect spot inside while his palm rubs steady circles on your stomach, bullying that soft lower belly until you are dripping down his wrist and whimpering his name like it will make it better than it already is.

only when your thighs are trembling uncontrollably and your pussy is fluttering helplessly around his fingers does he finally ease up, sliding them out slow and careful, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean with a low groan that makes your stomach flip.

he stays on his knees between your legs for a long moment, forehead resting against your thigh, breathing hard while his cock strains painfully against his jeans, the front of the fabric dark with pre-cum. when he finally looks up at you his eyes are still determined, still carrying that quiet conflict, but the hunger has won completely now, and the way he stares at your flushed, marked body makes it clear he is nowhere near done with you tonight.

nanami stays on his knees between your spread thighs for another long, heavy breath, forehead pressed to the soft skin just above your knee while his chest rises and falls like he is trying to steady something inside himself that already broke minutes ago. his fingers are still shiny with you, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the sharp sweetness of your pussy hanging thick in the air.

when he finally moves it is slow and deliberate, like every motion costs him something. he rises to his full height, towering over you on the couch, white button-up wrinkled and damp at the collar from the heat rolling off both of you. his hands, large and steady, slide under your thighs and around your back in one smooth motion, scooping you up off the cushions like you weigh nothing at all.

your legs wrap around his slim waist on instinct, heels digging into the firm muscle of his lower back, and the sudden shift leaves you gasping against his shoulder because he lifts you so easily, strong arms locking you against his chest while your bare pussy hovers right above the heavy bulge still trapped in his jeans.

he does not give you time to look down. one arm stays banded tight under your ass, holding your weight like it is effortless, while his free hand works between your bodies to unbuckle his belt with a quiet metallic clink. the zipper follows, the sound loud in the quiet room, and he shoves both jeans and briefs down just enough to free himself.

you feel the thick, heavy length spring up against your inner thigh, hot and velvet-smooth, the blunt mushroom head already slick and leaking. before you can even tilt your head to catch a glimpse he shifts you higher in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest wall for leverage, and uses that same free hand to guide the fat head of his cock right to your dripping entrance.

the broad tip nudges through your folds, rubbing slow and deliberate, coating himself in your slick while he watches your face with those solemn dark eyes, brows knitted tight like he is still fighting the last scraps of restraint.

“breathe,” he mutters, voice low and rough, the single word almost gentle even as his hips tilt forward. he helps you sink down, one thick inch at a time, the stretch burning so good it makes your jaw go slack and your eyes flutter half-shut.

he is big, thicker than anything you have taken, the veined shaft dragging along your walls as he lowers you steadily until your ass meets his hips and he is buried to the hilt. a quiet groan tears from his throat when he bottoms out, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, and for a long second he just holds you there, letting you feel every inch of him pulsing deep inside your smaller body.

you’re pressed and folded in an awkward position, and it only makes the size difference feel more obscene, your soft curves dwarfed by his tall, solid frame.

nanami does not wait long. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he starts to move, lifting you up and dropping you back down onto his cock with controlled, powerful strokes that hammer into you deep enough to punch the air from your lungs. each thrust makes your whole body jolt in his arms, tits bouncing under nothing. bare and free for him to watch, back sliding against the wall while he fucks up into you like he has been imagining it for weeks.

his height towers over you completely, shoulders broad enough to block out the room, white shirt straining across his chest with every roll of his hips.

the mushroom head of his cock drags perfectly along that spot inside you on every downstroke, the sheer size of him making your belly bulge slightly every time he bottoms out, a faint outline visible under your skin if you looked down, but he keeps your face buried against his neck so you cannot.

he keeps that steady, punishing rhythm, hips snapping up hard while his arms hold you suspended like you are weightless, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with every thrust. sweat beads along his hairline, dampening the collar of his shirt, and his breath comes in hot, measured pants against your ear.

“too big for you?” he asks, voice strained but still carrying that solemn edge, even as he grinds deep and holds you there for a heartbeat, letting you feel how completely he fills you.

your only answer is a broken moan and loled nod, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of overstimulation starts building fast. he does not slow down. he just keeps lifting and dropping you onto every thick inch, eyebrows still knitted in concentration, eyes flicking between your slack mouth and the way your body takes him so greedily.

his shirt keeps getting in the way, bunching up between both of you, so he shifts his grip, one hand sliding up to yank the fabric higher until it is completely off of him, exposing his sweaty chest completely to the cool air and your half-focused stare.

now there is nothing between you but sweat-slick skin and the relentless drag of his cock stretching you open. he leans in, mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while he hammers into you harder, the angle shifting so the head of his cock bullies that perfect spot with every upward thrust. your smaller frame jolts in his arms with each powerful stroke, pussy clenching tight around the thick length splitting you apart, and nanami groans low and deep, the sound rumbling through his chest as he feels you start to flutter around him again.

he keeps you pinned against the wall like that, towering over you, strong arms never tiring as he fucks you deep and steady, the size difference so stark it makes your head spin. every time he bottoms out his hips grind against your clit, the pressure on your lower belly from the inside making everything feel tighter, fuller, more overwhelming.

you are already close again, thighs shaking around his waist, voice cracking on his name, and nanami just holds you there, determined eyes locked on your face while he drives you closer to the edge with every heavy thrust, determined to feel you come around his cock before he lets himself follow.

nanami’s rhythm starts to falter just a little, hips snapping up with shorter, more desperate strokes while his breath comes hot and ragged against the side of your neck. he can feel it building fast, that tight coil low in his gut, his heavy balls drawing up tight and aching as your pussy flutters and squeezes around every thick inch of him.

but he refuses to let go first. he is older, more controlled, and right now that control means making sure you fall apart completely before he does.

with a low grunt he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding under your ass to tilt your hips forward while the other presses flat against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch that pushes your pelvis out and opens you up even more obscenely. the new angle is nasty, almost cruel, your body folded and suspended in his arms so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock on every upward thrust and the fat head of him drags directly into that spongy spot inside you at a brutal upward curve.

your legs dangle wider, heels kicking uselessly against his lower back, the sheer size difference making you feel like you are being split open and rearranged from the inside while he holds you like a toy.

he starts hammering into you with that filthy new angle, cock bullying that spot over and over until your eyes roll back and broken sobs start spilling from your slack mouth.

the overstimulation crashes in hard and fast, your already sensitive pussy clenching and spasming around him while tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to slip down your flushed cheeks.

your hand flies down between your bodies on instinct, palm pushing weakly at his lower stomach like you can stop the relentless drag of his cock, fingers scrabbling against the damp fabric of his white shirt. nanami’s eyes narrow, jaw tightening, and he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he hisses the words low and dark, “do that again and i’ll fucking hurt you good.”

the threat hits you like a live wire. your whole body seizes, a choked cry tearing from your throat, and then you are squirting hard around his cock, hot fluid gushing out in messy pulses that soak his jeans, drip down his balls, and splatter onto the floor beneath you.

nanami groans deep and filthy at the feeling, the wet heat flooding around him making his cock twitch violently inside you. he does not slow down. if anything he fucks you harder, hips snapping up with wet, punishing slaps while his free hand slides between your bodies and starts tracing tight, relentless infinity signs over your swollen clit with two thick fingers. the pressure is mean and perfect, circling and dragging in that figure-eight pattern while he keeps pounding into that nasty folded angle, cock bullying your g-spot and his fingers never letting up on your overstimulated clit.

“i know, baby, i know,” he rasps against your ear, voice hoarse and strained, the words almost soothing even as he wrecks you. “you can take it. just let it happen.” your legs shake violently around his waist, tears streaming freely now, little hiccuping sobs mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy taking every brutal thrust.

nanami keeps that freaky rhythm going, hips rolling deep, fingers drawing those endless infinity loops over your clit until your vision whites out and another shattering orgasm rips through you, pussy clamping down so hard it almost forces him out. he hisses through his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest, but he powers through it, fucking you straight through the peak and into the trembling aftershocks.

his own control finally snaps. his balls tighten almost painfully, cock swelling even thicker inside your fluttering walls as he buries himself to the hilt one last time, grinding deep while thick, hot ropes of cum flood you. he comes with a low, broken groan that vibrates through his chest, pulsing hard and endless, filling you so full that it starts leaking out around his cock in creamy white streaks every time he gives one last shallow thrust.

the mess is everywhere, your squirt and his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his jeans and pooling on the floor, the obscene wet sounds slowly fading as he keeps you pinned against the wall, still buried deep, both of you heaving for air.

nanami’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breathing hard, the last energy well spent, showing of with both of your sweat-soaked body mixing with the sharp smell of sex filling the room. his arms stay locked around you, holding your smaller frame effortlessly even as his cock twitches with the last weak spurts inside you.

for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky sobs and his ragged breathing, bodies trembling together in the aftermath, messy and spent and still connected. he does not pull out yet. he just keeps you there, suspended in his arms, the quiet weight of everything that just happened settling heavy between you while his cum continues to leak slowly out around where he is still buried deep.

nanami stays buried inside you for what feels like forever, thick cock still twitching with the last lazy pulses while warm cum slowly leaks out around where your bodies are joined, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor in messy little trails.

your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling, heels digging weakly into his lower back like you cannot quite let go yet, and he keeps holding you up without any effort, strong arms locked under your ass, keeping your smaller frame suspended against the wall like it is the most natural thing in the world. your shaky little sobs eventually quiet into soft, hiccuping breaths, tears drying on your cheeks, but the overstimulation still makes your pussy flutter weakly around him every few seconds, milking out another thin trickle of his cum.

finally he shifts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he carefully pulls out, the wet sound loud and obscene in the quiet room.

a thick glob of his cum follows immediately, sliding out of your swollen, puffy pussy and running down to join the mess already pooled beneath you. he lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too shaky to hold you, so he keeps one arm banded around your waist, steadying you against his chest while his other hand tucks himself back into his briefs and jeans with a quiet zip.

the white button-up is wrinkled and damp with sweat when he puts it back on, black jeans dark at the front from your squirt, but he still looks put-together in that quiet, solemn way of his, even now.

he does not say anything at first. just looks down at you with those dark, heavy eyes, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare hip like he cannot quite stop touching you. then he exhales, long and tired, and rests his forehead against yours for a brief second.

“this…” his voice comes out rough, low, almost reluctant. “this can’t happen again.”

the words hang between you, simple and final, even as his hand lingers on your skin and his cum continues to drip slowly down the inside of your thigh.

he presses one last, almost gentle kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that feels heavier than any promise, before he steps back. his fingers flex once at his sides like he is fighting the urge to pull you close again, then he turns toward the door, shoulders straight, footsteps quiet on the floor.

“get some rest,” he murmurs without looking back, the manly scent of him still clinging to your skin. “and… call the building manager about the router next time.”

the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there naked and trembling in the middle of your living room, thighs sticky, pussy aching and full of him, the quiet weight of what just happened settling deep in your chest. you know he means it. you also know, deep down, that neither of you really believes it.

He can smell your juices, see the darkening of your panties when his pretty eyes flicker to your cunt. Pushing your thighs further, you drop the phone.

"Ah-ah," he bites your other thigh. Your hands come to tug on his fluffy ears, making his tail twitch side to side. Cock leaking. "Tell him you're busy."

"Fuck, okay," your shaky hand picks up the phone, your eyes getting lidded when his nose brushes your pretty pussy over those panties, you suck in a breath at it, fingers faltering. "mngh..."

"Tell him," he says in a soft little hum, inhaling you again, palming his cock to adjust it, feeling it swelling with how badly he wants to devour you. "If you wanna cum, you will."

"Fuck you're a brat," you mumble as he tugs you closer, shoving your knee up over his shoulder, nose inhaling your cunt again. "Are you gonna just sniff me !?"

"Till you answer," he sighs. "I could do this and cum."

"Freaky wolf, ah!" He bites your inner thigh, your juices just slippin' down further, in rivulets against his face, his glasses fogged up with his breaths. "F-fine."

Sorry Caleb - I'm busy tonight.

You show him the screen, and he smirks, a curve of his lips.

"Good girl."

Fuck.

Valko tugs your panties aside, looking at the mess your cunt is and moaning at the sight, tongue hot as it laps you from your ass to your clit, then back down, not just tasting - he's fucking lavishing you, spit soaked tongue dragging through your folds. "V-Valko I..."

"Good, good, good... good girl you're s-so... good," he's gripping you bruisingly now, slurping your messy, needy hole, the juices just pouring - his adam's apple bobs as he gulps you down, his glasses just slightly askew from the way he's drinking you. "Taste s'good... fuck..."

He could almost cum from the taste alone, greedily dragging his tongue from your slutty, quivering hole to that twitchy clit, all while you're gripping his hair with one hand, the other rubbing his ears. It feels so good as he lets you coat his taste buds, watching your eyes roll back in your skull.

You shatter so fast, but he's not even trying to make you cum - he just needs your taste, he needs your scent, biting your clit before he can stop himself, the action having you squirt right down him, all over his sweater and his collar. He laughs softly as you whine out, arching your hips, thighs quivering.

"Please... in me, mngh..." You see his slick face and blush, the dark mess you made on his sweater apparent as he takes it off, standing, his cock leaking through his sweats.

You go to touch him but you don't get a moment, he's got you turned and bent over the living room table, that sweater of yours gripped in his huge hands, claws ruining the material without him meaning to. He spits right on your cunt just to make it even messier, it's so wet she doesn't even need it, laughing as you arch, thighs shaking.

The phone goes off.

Valko hums a bit, looking at the message.

"Aww... he misses his 'pips'. Cute," Valko laughs, lost now - he's not the goofy little jerk you're used to, not when he's lining his reddened tip with your hole - no, he's feral. "Should we show him how you're doin'? Hmm, sweetheart?"

"N-no, psycho," you're wetter at the idea, and he notices, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, torturing you as you arch, begging for more. "In me, in me... in - ah!"

Valko slides his veiny, thick cock deep, his tail wrapping around his body and tickling you as he groans, head falling forward, that heavy weight pressing you down. He's as big there as he is everywhere, his grin against your skin felt before he bites your neck, shoving in fully.

"S'deep... you're..."

You're a babbling mess when he pins you there, twitching inside you, cock dragging your sweet spot and kissing it over and over again. You're a drooling mess the more he moves, the more his cock rocks in and out, thickening and swelling impossibly.

"Should call him, huh baby? Let him hear your cunt he wants s'fuckin' bad," Valko can't stand it then, thinking of anyone with the girl that should be all his, every instinct on fire. "All mine, yeah baby? Breed your messy cunt till you're all mine, can't even talk, can you?"

"Mhm," you're shattering when he fucks you faster, meaner, a hand on the table bracing himself as he bites your neck till blood drips, lapping it up so his lips are crimson, moaning against your skin. "Valko... please..."

"I'll give it all to you," he's sinking his teeth again - marking you his, ones he hopes last and last, as his cock is soaked, and your tacky walls are milking him. "Fill you so full, won't be able to see anyone, will you?"

You shatter with one more drag of his fat tip, and that's when it pushes him over the edge, his knot swelling as his cum fills you to the brim, coating your walls in white. He's biting your shoulder, your neck, your arm, everywhere he can, as that fat knot stretches you, hurting so bad you're in tears - but fuck it feels good.

"So much... s'much, V-valko..." you whimper as he moves that knot, kissing all the places he's marked you, moaning softly. His tail twitches as it tickles your skin, his ears curving down.

"Perfect, f-fuck you're so... oh baby I don't think it'll go down I..." He's never had this happen, not being able to calm it down, locked and knotted so thick in your tiny cunt. He keeps kissing you, moving back a bit, hearing your little sharp breath. "Want me to keep this cum plugged inside you? Hmm, breed you, baby?"

"Yes, yes," you're drooling, looking at him with dilated eyes, all covered in his marks. "K-keep it all.. in ... your knot it's so..."

"Mhm, I know baby," he's soothing you even as he rocks it in just an inch - back and forth, until he's pressing all his cum right against your puffy lil cervix.

You're cummin' again and again, but what you don't realize is...

Valko left Caleb all of that on a voice message </3

****

It filled you with pride and joy seeing your little puppy so happy and comfortable around you, remembering the time when you just got him. He was in a terrible shape, not taken care of well by his previous owners and fresh wounds covered his body that was already littered with scars - and yet he was trusting and friendly, cautious of course but he still tried to see the positive things in everything. This trait is probably what made you keep him, the way he was so selfless and really wanted to take care of you without expecting anything in return from you but you gave him an endless amount of love these past few months he has been with you. 

By the time you finished your dinner, you noticed something was off, Choso was whimpering slightly and his ears were laid back against his head. "Hey… are you okay? What's wrong?" You asked concerned, feeling his forehead gently and frowning when he was burning up a little. 

"Let's get you to bed early, should I hold you?" You asked caring but he shook his head, moving away from your touch, which you weren't used to. You just figured that he didn't like to be touched when sick or that he didn't want to risk getting you sick as well, so you let him trail off to bed alone before joining him hours later. 

The entire night you kept your distance instead of cuddling up close for warmth and comfort like you two usually do and the way he even whimpered in his sleep made your heart ache. 

Morning came fast despite the rough night both of you had and Choso found himself glued to your side, legs wrapped around yours and his arms clinging to your torso. 

"Please don't leave… stay home today… I need you," he whined but you only cupped his face, a pout appearing on his handsome face as he leaned into your touch. "I can't, baby… I have that important meeting in the morning but I promise I’ll come home right after." you promised, your heart threatening to burst at the crushed expression he wore now but he understood - you probably didn't know what was going on anyways, never having owned a puppy hybrid before so he couldn't blame you and let you get up, wanting to take care of it himself. 

He watched you leave like he did every morning, trying to behave normal and trying to act like he just felt a little sick over night and needed some extra cuddles that day which you gladly provided, even leaving work early just to take care of your beloved puppy. 

This wasn't exactly the case but he didn't have the heart to tell you that he was in a rut, needing to bury himself inside of you and filling you up repeatedly but he could take care of himself… or at least so he thought. His little ears didn't pick up the sound of your keys turning, neither did he hear your worried calls for him. His whimpers of your name almost drowned out the slick sound of his own cum aiding as lube while stroking his achingly hard cock, overly sensitive from all the times he made himself cum already, a small puddle on the floor and some of it dripping off his torso.

Even if his ears were occupied, he should have at least noticed your smell filling his senses but his nose was buried in a pair of your panties that he stole out of the laundry, the scent of your cunt so intense and addicting to him. 

"Choso?" You asked in a soft voice, unsure if you were concerned or shocked by the scene playing out in front of you. Your little puppy perked his head up, the collar jingling with the sudden movement and his cum shooting all over the floor in front of him. He wished he could disappear in that moment, shying away from you but you were able to stop him before he entirely died from embarrassment.

Your palm on his arm made him shudder, a burning sensation spreading through his entire body and the embarrassment was forgotten, big eyes looked up at you

"help… please," he whimpered, dick twitching again already without ever letting him catch a break. 

The mess he made of the floor and himself let you figure that he's been at this for hours, probably since you left in the morning and you felt so bad for him, giving him a warm smile and kneeling down to him. “Are you in a rut?” You asked bold, making him blush further as he nodded affirmatively. 

"I read about that when I educated myself about owning a puppy hybrid… it's okay baby boy, you're my good boy, aren't you?" You asked with a soft voice as your hand traveled from his strong biceps towards his chest, smearing a few pearls of his cum over his pebbled nipples which made him shudder and goosebumps formed over his entire body. 

"But you've been such a naughty boy, stealing my underwear… Do you think I should punish you for that?" You asked, a smirk growing on your lips when he pouted but he nodded, knowing he's not allowed to steal your panties. A little yelp escaped his pouting lips when you pinched his sensitive nipples before tugging his face close to the floor by the collar he wore - something he wanted to do, proud of being your good boy. 

"Clean up the mess you just made," you ordered, trying to sound stern when all you wanted was to help him feel better but he wanted to be punished first, letting him lap at the spurts of cum on the floor while you fondled his tight balls, so pretty on display with his ass in the air like that. 

Once he was done you gave a small slap to each of his butt cheeks and allowed him to sit up again. "Look at you, my good boy," you cooed as you reached for his aching length, making him cry out in pleasure from how sensitive he was after all these orgasms.

"P-please… I need you," he begged, gently fucking your hand and you allowed him, pumping his shaft and wrapping your lips around the tip to reward him for good behavior.

The cum he used as lube tasted bitter on your tongue but it didn't taste bad, craving to taste some more of him as your tongue teased the little slit on top of his tip and Choso didn't mean to but he pushed your head down on his length, no longer gently fucking your hands, now pumping himself into your warm mouth but you didn't protest. 

You knew how much he needed this and he waited the entire day for you without a single complaint so you let him fuck your mouth with utmost care, his sweet moans and whimpers rising in pitch the closer he got. To say it was sloppy was an understatement, your saliva dribbling down his balls and your nose nestled into the small bush at the base. What finally sent him over the edge was your hands fondling his balls, smearing them with your spit and gently squeezing them just the way he liked it.

Your name echoed off the walls in a lewd scream, his cum shooting down your throat before he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you hungry. Little thank you’s were whispered between kisses and tears threatening to spill from his eyes letting you know that this meant more to him than just getting off - it was personal - it was a need for you and your love.

The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, not having noticed how you tugged your pants down just enough to reveal your glistening slit while he kissed you. 

"Can I? You mean it?" He asked excited yet flustered, finally able to make you his forever. All you could do was nod and get on all fours for him, your cunt dripping with arousal. 

Finding him desperately fucking his hand while sniffing your underwear turned you on more than you thought it would and the way he was so desperate for you only made it worse. His tail was wagging fast when he licked a long stripe all the way from your clit to your puckered hole before stuffing his eager tongue into your pussy, dying to taste your juices.

All you could do was moan helplessly, not expecting him to eat you out like a man starved but he didn't want to stop this. Slender fingers rubbed and gently pinched your puffy clit while his tongue was lapping all over your folds or fucking your tight entrance until the knot in your stomach exploded, your arousal coating his tongue and resulting him to cum untouched while he whined and whimpered into your folds. 

You almost had to pry him away after your third orgasm, dying to feel his dick inside of you and who was he to deny you that? With shaking hands he lined his bulbous tip up with your slick core which caused a loud moan to erupt from both of you - he fit so perfectly inside of you and hit all the right spots so that neither of you lasted long. 

Choso felt your walls clamp down and the moment you screamed his name in ecstasy it was over for him, panting hard and he really wanted to pull out but your cunt sucked him in so good that he just couldn't stop himself. 

"Fuck- fuck I'm so sorry," he whined loudly and for a second you didn't know what he's apologizing for until your eyes went wide, feeling the giant knot stretching you further than you've ever been stretched. His hot cum was spurting against your insides, your name falling from his lips in cries of pure pleasure and the knot keeping it all inside of your pussy. 

"I’m so sorry," he mumbled as he rested his forehead between your shoulder blades but you whimpered, the stretch borderline painful but the way you felt so connected to him now made it into something pleasurable.

"Feels good… can we stay like this?" You asked breathlessly, not wanting this moment between the two of you to end and Choso only humped his hips against yours in a silent agreement and to let you feel that he was far from being done - cock still hard. His shallow thrusts right against your sweet spot made you moan again, only waiting until the knot swells off so he can fuck you properly again only to knot you to him again and again. 

he wishes you could see him right now, see him so destroyed just by the taste of you from fabric. he wonders if you'd be mean like enjin, if you'd tease him for being so desperate he's humping his bed like a dog in heat.

or maybe you'd be the nicer of the two, maybe you'd coo at him, play with his hair, kiss his cheeks before pulling him between your legs like the little angel you are.

"it's okay, gris, don' listen to jin, he's mean," you'd say, all soft and sweet, pretty fingers parting yourself for him to see all of you. "c'mon, don't you wanna taste it from the source?"

it's embarrassing how fast he cums from the thought of you giving him permission to eat you out, permission to put his mouth on you, his nose buried in your panties as he groans your name, ruining his boxers as he twitches, hot cum pouring out of him.

he's so fucking ruined, he doesn't know if he can give these back to you in one piece. and he just knows he's even more fucked when he pulls out his phone after hearing the text notification, just to see enjin sent him a picture, a picture of you with enjin's hand around your neck, hands clawing at his arms as you pout, clearly trying to knock the phone out of his hand.

'poor thing is embarrassed cuz shes creamin on me knowin ur prolly huffin her panties'

and he's right, he's so fucking right, and gris swears he's gone to heaven when he sees it, that thick, frothy ring of white, sticky cream around the base of enjin's cock that's halfway inside of your perfect, absolutely perfect pussy.

'hrry up n come down from ur afterglow man n facetime me so u can see it live ,its so cute her pussy is so loud'

'gris? u there?'

enjin is gonna have to wait, because the mental image of you trying to huff and make noise so the sounds of your poor hole sucking your boyfriend's cock inside are drowned out sent him over the edge again.

poor, poor bro was trembling when enjin dropped the fabric in his hands, looking at it like it was a fragile treasure he had to be mindful not to break. but the worst part?

oh, fuck, the worst part was how enjin purposefully left the bedroom door open, giving bro a perfect view of you trying to catch your breath on the bed. hips up, face down as you trembled, thighs shiny from your slick, the same sticky wetness that soaked the fabric in his hands.

and the way you moaned, it was replaying in his head over, and over, and over again, pleading, begging for enjin to give you something more, that his fingers weren't enough, you needed something thicker in you, jesus—

"go home, man, before you bust in your damn jeans," enjin laughed, smacking him on the back as the poor man burned hot in the face. "don't waste your load, bro. she'll want a nice picture of her panties covered in it."

he's never driven home so fast in his life, couldn't even make it inside. no, the poor man parked in his garage, hurriedly turning off the car and undoing his belt with shaky hands.

"c'mon, c'mon, shit, c'mon..." finally, with a relieved groan, he got his cock out, thick and throbbing from need, a thick bead of precum bubbling out his tip before dripping down the underside...his boxers were absolutely ruined, long, thick strands of the precum he was leaking on the drive home connecting to his lap.

"i-i'm such a mess."

and he is, because he doesn't even hesitate, tucking his jeans and underwear under his balls so he could get a good grip around his dick, fisting himself with your panties in his hand with a wet moan of your name, hips bucking up.

"s-shit, mami, y'so fucking pretty, goddd, i'd...i-i'd fill you up so good, wish i could've helped," comes his pathetic whines, rubbing the crotch of your panties riiiiight on his tip, making sure to soak it with his precum. if only he could cum in them and watch you slide them back up your legs, hear the wet squish of his cum against your pussy...

fuck it, he thought, reaching for his phone, a picture isn't going to be enough, not for her, as he opens up his camera app and slides it to video mode.

now, corvus wanted to knock enjin out cold, he really did. after all, he was bigger than enjin, he could easily do it if he wanted to...because the way he was teasing him was not helping his at all.

"sorry, man, she got a lil' excited when she heard you were the winner, so i had to help calm her down a bit," the dumb, idiotic blonde grinned, not bothering to wipe the wetness that soaked his face off. he was absolutely dripping in you, his shirt soaked from you squirting on him not once, not twice, but three times.

and corvus just stood there, smiling like nothing was wrong.

like he didn't hear you crying out his name instead of enjin's.

like he didn't hear you begging, pleading, "p-please, arkhaaa, make jin stoppp, i-i can't cum anymore, pleeease" as your boyfriend ate you out over those pretty, yellow panties enjin was holding out for him to take...because now?

now he knows how you sound when you cum, screaming his name.

"you are a very, very cruel man, enjin, you should be nicer to her," is all he can manage, voice tight as he snatches the yellow fabric out of his tattooed hands and shoves it in his pocket. and of course, enjin doesn't miss the way his hand stays inside his pocket, knowing corvus' thumb is likely rubbing over the absolutely soaked fabric.

enjin just shrugs, looking him dead in the eye. "she likes it when 'm mean to her." he brings his hand up to his face, catching corvus' attention. his hand is still soaked. he can see you dripping off his fingers. "besides..." two of his fingers slide into his mouth, enjin's eyes fluttering with a moan as your taste coats his tongue. with a wet pop, he pulls them out, tongue swiping over his lips, a movement he watches corvus' eyes follow.

"she's just sad you didn't come in to save her. poor thing's all worried mr. corvus didn't think she sounded good enough for him to come in and see her pussy gettin' played with."

"Sukuna," You held up your damaged silk garment. "it's damaged, again."

"And it will be taken care of again." He matched your attitude.

"That was one of my favorite garments." Your eyebrows furrowed. "Could you stop tearing my clothes? It is becoming irritating."

"I find your change of opinion humorous." He lowly hummed. "I remember you being irritated, but for a different reason."

"What ever do you mean?"

"I believe you were telling me to tear it. You wanted to feel my hands carress your plush, hot—"

"I do not need a retelling." You quickly interrupted him, feeling warmth crawl up your neck and elevated heart rate. "Have it fixed, please."

"It will be, beloved."

Sukuna always called you to his chambers. It became so frequent to the point where you wouldn't see your own quarters for weeks, much to your enjoyment. He excelled in bed, and treated you with reverence while you both were not tangled under sheets. When you did go back to your quarters, the other concubines had questions. 'Why haven't I been called?' or 'What is going on?'

You could only respond with a shrug, trying to mask the pleased look on your face.