𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔯𝔢𝔡

You want to reach out, ask him what’s wrong, what’s happening, but you can’t. All movement and speech have been rendered impossible, due to the teacup that lay shattered on the ground, bathed in the liquid that made you like this.

It was completely normal, a routine at this point, to sit in the living room with Fyodor in front of the lit fireplace sipping tea out of teacups from his beloved collection of fine china. The tea varied – chamomile, earl gray, mint, oolong, just plain green. And the activities often varied as well. Sometimes teasing and laughing over a card game, sometimes long, difficult discussions about the future with stoic faces, and sometimes just comfortable silence. The night before you had been discussing marriage and children. But it was always just you and Fyodor with cups of tea.

This had been a night like every other, though conversation remained at a minimum. Jasmine tea as the fire roared a little hotter than usual. What differed was how the tea started to make you feel. It was slow enough that you wouldn’t push away the cup or become unable to drink the whole serving, but fast enough that once it came on, you couldn’t stop it – it was too late.

And now you lay limp in Fyodor’s arms as he laid you down on the chaise lounge you had been resting on with your cup of tea – the one had fallen to the ground once your strength had started to fade.

“W-wha-” you manage to get out, your vocal cords and lips fighting against whatever was paralyzing them.

“Shhh,” Fyodor soothes, petting your hair as he hovers over you. “This is for the good of our family, my love.”

Your slack face slightly contorts into a look of confusion as your fuzzy mind tries to make sense of his words, barely noticing the way he tugged down your pants until his fingertips circled around your clit lightly. Somehow you could feel that. You attempted to jerk away from the touch, but your body once again failed you.

“Oh, my love, don’t you remember?” he tuts before spitting on his fingers and prodding at your hole. He had little interest in foreplay right now. “Don’t you understand? How you saying you ‘didn’t want kids anymore’ was completely unacceptable.”

It suddenly starts to click, even in your fucked mind. The way Fyodor’s jaw tightened, and smile faded during your discussion last night when you admitted that you didn’t see kids in your future. You had paid little mind to his disappointed “oh”. But clearly, he hadn’t let go.

One finger pushes past your still tight ring of muscle, making you grunt. “In case you don’t, in case the drug has addled your conscience too much, I shall explain.” Another finger sinks in. “We will be having children. At least three, to be exact. You will be getting pregnant, and hopefully tonight.” His fingers pump in and out of you, faster and faster, scissoring apart to stretch you open. “Even if that means rendering you useless and unable to resist me."

Tugging his own pants down, he spits in the palm of his hand before gripping his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times. “I considered just pulling you ass up for easiest access, but I want you to see me – to watch what happens when you disobey my wishes so severely.”

Since you’re completely dead weight, Fyodor has to manually spread your legs wide in order to slot himself between them, his grip tight underneath your knees. Then his lips are on your as he leans over you, the kiss forceful since you’re unable to reciprocate – not that you would’ve anyway.

The leaky tip of his cock as he revels in your inability to fight back is proof that he’s enjoying this immensely, the sick bastard. You want to scream out, thrash against him as his length slides into your cunt in protest of how unfair this is, how he can’t just decide to get you pregnant, but you can’t. You’re completely stuck just… taking it. Until his balls are pressed all the way against your ass, the puff of hair at the base of his cock tickling against your clit.

And somehow, you can feel it on the inside. You can feel the sting and burn as he pushes in and stretches you out, but can also feel… the pleasure. Maybe it’s the way your slack jaw falls open further at his first thrust, your body twitching, but Fyodor can tell. The way your body is forcing you to feel good against your wishes.

You grunt pathetically with every single thrust, legs hanging loosely around his waist and tongue lolling out of your mouth with drool pooling out of the corner. Fyodor is going mad with how much he loves this, how quickly he’s getting off from just using you without your permission. His violet eyes shine fiercely and the sick smirk on his face only grows as he fucks you harder and harder.

"Going to look so pretty pregnant, my beautiful doll,” he coos, massaging the soft fat of your tits. “So round and so full of my babies, so swollen you can barely walk, can’t even see your feet. You’ll need your darling husband’s help to even walk down the stairs,” he babbles, clearly just talking to himself.

“Do you like it, pretty? The way I’m just using you? It turns you on, doesn’t it? You and your body are mine, you know. I own you. And I own the right to use you however I please, to make you whatever I please.”

Of course, Fyodor had always been a bit possessive, always liked to call you his, but never to this caliber. Never to the point where you thought he’d do something like this.

His thrusts get faster and faster with every sick and twisted sentence, and though your hearing was fuzzy too, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoed through the room. Too wet to only just be his precum… were you wet? From what he was doing to you?

The orange light from the roaring fireplace illuminated Fyodor’s face in the most terrifying way, highlighting his sharp features, and igniting his eyes and sweat that had begun dripping down the sides of his face.

He leans in close, whispering into your ear. “Are you ready for my seed, doll? Ready for me to cum so deep inside you your womb is forced to take all of it?”

You’re able to shake your head a bit, and Fyodor clicks his tongue.

“You’re ready because I say so.”

You can’t feel it, but by the way his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, cock throbbing inside you, you can tell he’s cumming. Filling you up with the seed he promised to get you pregnant with.

After pulling out, he kisses you deeply.

It’s surprisingly easy. 

Easy, because you’re malleable and naive to the ways of the more . . . nefarious sides of society. You’ve never had to worry about stepping foot out of your comfortable life, beyond the vague threat of the Fragmentum and the Eternal Freeze that bothers every citizen of Belobog. But your life within the city isn’t threatened; you look at the Silvermane Guards with respect and awe, but you don’t honestly believe yourself in any danger. And because of that certainty that bad things will not happen to you, you’ve developed quite a cute interest in those other things - like Sampo, and his trips to the underworld, his easy way of slipping between things, his adventures and the embellished stories he tells you. And you’ve become quite easy to get information out of, on top of all of that - anything to help Sampo out, after all. 

Oh, you’re adorable. 

He thinks about you a lot, when he’s embroiled in another danger he brought upon himself - imagines how to spin it so he’s the hero, and you look at him with those wide eyes and your mouth open, lips soft and kissable in the glow of the heat lamps, and you breathlessly say; “Oh, Mr Koski!” in that awestruck little tone he cannot get enough of. 

He thinks about you a lot, too, alone in his bed at night with one hand wrapped around his cock and his back arching. He thinks about the shape of your body beneath your clothes; the ample curve of your chest, the wide contour of your hips and how perfectly they would fit in his grip if you were beneath him. The fullness of your cheeks and lips, and how they would look wrapped around his length - the soft noises you’d make as he pushed it in just a little further than you could handle. 

He thinks, perhaps, he should feel guilty about it. The thing in your eyes when you look at him is almost hero worship. But Sampo Koski did not get to where he is by way of self-reproach, and surely one wants to help out their heroes when they can? 

So he does what he always does. He sets his plan in motion. 

And if this plan does not end in shield, but in someone sweet wrapped around his finger, thighs wrapped around his hips, mouth wrapped around his cock? Well. It’s a plan nonetheless, and Sampo has never been a man who says no to the spoils of his own schemes. 

He starts only small. 

Bends his head closer to yours when the two of you talk, making sure that you’re made entirely aware of the breadth of his shoulders and his biceps, the peek of his bare chest beneath his complicated (but fashionable--) outfit. Allows the sharp emerald of his eyes to wander, just enough to be appreciative - just enough that he can sense how your cheeks heat, how you twist your fingers shyly into the fabric of your garments. 

Lets his hand wander to a place that skirts the edge of being respectable; your waist, but almost your hip. The dip of your lower back, but so close to the tantalising curve of your rear. Your cheek, but so so close to the delicate pulse beating in your throat that he sees how it speeds up at his touch. 

Pays you compliments, thrown out as casually as a breath but aimed to strike at the heart. How pretty you look today. How much he appreciates your time together. How you’re always the highlight of his time on the surface - how he simply couldn’t imagine not coming to see you. You respond, as he knew you would, with eager little soft-voiced entreaties about how you feel the same, how much you appreciate him, how you’re always so happy to see him. How you just love having the chance to help him.  He knows that the time is ripe when he catches your chin in gloved fingers and smiles down at you and says, his voice carefully pitched like affable velvet;

“And what if I asked you for your help with something else, sweetheart?”

Your eyes go all big and wide. Even through the fabric of his gloves, he can feel the heat that has risen to your face. There was never any doubt about it, but he’s glad to have the confirmation even so - you’ve been nursing an innocent crush on him. 

It won’t be so innocent when he’s done with you. 

“Mr Koski,” you say to him, your voice squeaking with nerves. He can see, again, the quick beating of your pulse - the eager-to-please nature that makes you such a thrillingly delicious prospect to have in his bed. That hopeful look that you can be of use to him. He wants to ruin you. He loves the way you say his name. “Of course, I’d do anything you asked me to!” 

He chuckles at you affectionately and leans in so close he can feel your breath against his lips. You tremble under his touch even now - he can’t wait to see how you’ll tremble under his clever fingers later on, when he has you somewhere more private. You look into his eyes with the breathless delight of someone having a fantasy come true. Naive little thing. Still. It wouldn’t hurt for him to play the gentleman just a tiny bit longer. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, chivalrous as he wants you to think he is. Your lips part, and he thinks about choking you on his cock even as you go giddy inside over the concept of your first kiss.

“Yes,” you breathe - and Sampo’s lips meet yours. They curve into a smile as you kiss back - unsure, prim, pure as the driven snow. 

Sampo’s plan has been a great success. 

He’s going to get what he wants. 

He takes you somewhere that he knows will not ask questions. The Goethe Hotel is not an option, but a man like Sampo doesn’t get where he is by not having connections - connections who will not ask about the pretty, wide-eyed Overworld denizen who’s clinging to his hand so tightly, looking around like they’ve found themselves in a storybook. You don’t even have the sense to ask him where he’s taking you - you’re all caught up in the romance of his kiss, the sweetness of his compliments, and the fact that your daydreams are coming true. 

“You wanna make me happy, don’t you?” He asks you, thumb skating over your cheek, and you nod at him with a sweetness that makes his teeth ache. “Come here, sweetheart. Pretty thing.” 

You shiver under his touch like a shy flower blooming, petals soft and untouched by human hands. You whisper out his name when his fingers find the buttons of your outfit, your skin going hot and nervous - but he makes soft little noises of comfort, reassuring you even as you’re bared before his eyes. He can barely stop himself throwing you onto the bed and having his way with you. 

“Look at you,” he says instead, as you stand before him all shivering and hopeful and naked. “You’re gorgeous.” You press your thighs together at the compliment, teeth biting into the plumpness of your bottom lip. His hands slide over you appreciatively, pulling you closer to where he sits on the bed. He maps out those same places that have haunted his wet dreams; all of those curves, the plumpness of your thighs and your stomach, the weight of your chest in his hands as he swipes his thumb over your nipples and you make a sweet little noise of surprised desire that makes his cock throb in his trousers. 

“C’mon,” he says, with that crooked smile that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. “Would Sampo hurt you, sweet thing?” You shake your head, immediately - even now, you’re unwilling to think the worst of him. You’re perfect. “Get on your knees. I’m gonna teach you somethin’.” 

It’s a scene right out of his nighttime fantasies when you hesitantly sink to your knees. Your desire to please warring with your desire to hide. But oh, do you look lovely down there. 

“That’s right,” he practically purrs, stroking your cheek. He feels giddy with the power of it all as he looks down at you - and as he unzips himself, you stifle a gasp and he feels his cock twitch in his grip. He’s proud enough of what he’s packing, but he sees it through your eyes and wishes he could take a photograph of you right there and then. Hesitant and eager and shy all at once. “Open your mouth for me, hmm?”

Obediently, you do exactly as he asks. One of his hands fastens about the back of your head, keeping you in place - you start but do not fight it, looking up at him with your expression utterly open and guileless. You trust him, and the thought makes a ripple of pleasure go down his spine. Your tongue is pink and wet in the lamplight. 

“Good,” Sampo praises, and your skin heats again. He guides himself into your mouth - you make a soft noise of surprise, but don’t pull away - your eyes stay locked on him, an unspoken question in your eyes. Am I doing this right? Is this good? Are you happy with me, Mr Koski? “Use your tongue for me, sweetheart. That’s right. You’re doing great.”

You look up at him from between his thighs and he lets out a muffled groan of pleasure as your tongue swipes unsurely over the head of his cock. You’re so cute down there. Even better than he imagined. There’s no satisfaction like a plan that’s going off without a hitch - and as you manage to swallow down even more of his cock, as a trickle of drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and your eyes go watery with the effort, he can’t help but cant his hips into you.

“Shh, shh,” he says, as your eyes widen in surprise and you almost try and pull back. His hand stays in place on the back of your head. That look on your face is going to keep him company through some very lonely nights. “I’m only doin’ that because you feel so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop, okay? You’re so good for me. Perfect.”

The last comes as you bob your head, tongue tracing the veins of his shaft - he relaxes his grip just enough for you to carry on the movement. Sampo lets a sigh fall from his lips as he enjoys the wet tightness of your mouth around him, the hesitant licks. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate someone who knows exactly what they’re doing in a blowjob - but something about you, and this? Something about knowing he’s the first man to have your mouth like this, to guide you through these motions? Nothing could compare. 

He almost doesn’t want to pull out. He almost wants to keep going - to see your surprise when he comes in your mouth, to implore you to swallow and call you such a good little thing, to shower you in praise until you’re dizzy and drunk from it - but . . . ah. Who knows when he’ll have the luxury of this much time with you again? And you keep shifting on your knees, your chest heaving, surprised by your own arousal . . .

It would be a hard heart indeed that didn’t let you have the full experience, and Sampo Koski is a soft touch. 

“D-did I do a bad job?” You babble, as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. It slaps softly and wetly against the plump fullness of your cheek and Sampo swallows back more thoughts of hitting your pretty face with it until you pout and beg him to put it back in, to choke you on it, to ‘please please please let me make you come Mr Koski--’

“Nah,” he says, affectionate and easy. “Not at all, sweetheart. I just . . . have other things I want to show you.” Your face is open and hopeful as he leans down again and takes your jaw in his hand. “Tell me something.”

“Anything,” you breathe to him, and he thinks that he could make you spill every secret in your pretty little head right there and then. 

“Are you wet for me, angel?” 

Your eyes widen, and he chuckles again. Your gaze flutters shyly around the room, away from Sampo’s own - but he doesn’t let go of your chin. He jerks it just so; not too hard, just enough to be playful. He doesn’t really need you to say it - not from the reaction you just had - but . . .

“C’mon,” he says again, smiling crookedly. “Tell me. I’m not gonna think less of you.”

You swallow. He raises one eyebrow.

“Do I need to check for myself?” He asks you, and shoots you a wink. “Stand up.” You follow the order helplessly, breathlessly, still just a little too shy to put word to the feelings that Sampo is pulling forth from you. His hand slides over the fullness of your thighs, and you reflexively push them together and win another laugh from him. “Don’t be shy,” he says. “Spread your legs. C’mon. I’ll be upset if you aren’t, y’know!”

You let out a slow breath as you follow his order and his palm curves around your thigh, as his fingers slide up and tease the seam of your sex - and Sampo follows suit, a satisfied exhale as he finds you hot and slick. He lets his fingers slip between the plump lips of your sex and wins a soft little ‘oh!’ of surprise, a flutter of your lashes. His cock twitches again. 

He fondles you for a few moments; lets his middle finger slide to your entrance, tease it and draw circles around it. You bite your lip again, but you spread your thighs further apart to allow him better access, breath hitching as he slides just the tip of one finger inside of you. His smile doesn’t falter as he looks at you. 

“Sweetheart,” he says to you, voice like smooth silk. He sinks his finger in further, to his knuckle - you’re tight but wet, and you take it easily. “You’re soaking.”

“I--I--” You falter, almost ashamed, and Sampo lets his eyes go half-lidded. There’s a whine to your voice that Sampo knows well. “Mr Koski--”

“Sampo,” he corrects you. His smile is rakish. “Mr Koski’s cute and all, but . . . not when I’ve got my fingers buried inside of you, yeah?”

“Sampo,” you breathe out, and he gently moves his finger; pumps it in and out of you a few times and enjoys the sight of your thighs flexing, of your body shivering. Your nipples are hard in the cool air, the tremble of your body a siren’s call to throw you onto the thin little mattress. He lets his thumb ghost across the swollen nub of your clit and you let out a strangled noise of pleasure, a whimper that’s so close to a moan he can taste it. 

“That’s right,” he says. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You’re pliable to all of his pushing, all of his touching - obedient to a fault, as he kisses your cheeks and props your hips with pillows and lets his hands stroke all over your body, learning the most sensitive places. The soft noise of surprise when he digs his thumbs into the indent of your waist, the inhale when he grasps your hips, the flutter of your lashes when his lips brush across your stomach . . . he commits them to memory. Part of the fun of taking someone as sweet as you is teaching them all the pleasures they didn’t know their body was capable, and Sampo is a thorough man. 

You tremble for him so sweetly, when he finally has you caged beneath him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, again, and delights in the way you shiver, the shy way you pull away from his gaze. “Don’t hide.” The rub of the head of his cock through your slit, wetting himself in your slick, makes you squirm hot beneath him and gasp in surprise. He repeats the motion, swirling the tip of him against your clit, until you whine and your thighs twitch and he wonders if he could make you come just like this.

Right now, though . . . he doesn’t have the patience. 

Your hands curl into the broad muscle of his shoulders as he splits you open on his cock. You cry out, but it’s a noise that’s a culmination of pleasure and surprise as well as just a little sting, and Sampo commits it to memory the same way he tries to commit the velvet cling of your walls and the tight heat and the feeling of you, letting him take you in every way possible. 

“Sweetheart,” he says to you, his own words getting lost as months of fantasies and pining and imagining you come rushing to the forefront of his mind. “You feel incredible--”

He might say more. It’s hard to keep track of anything when he gets lost so quickly in the pounding of his cock against your walls and the way you gasp and cling to him as he fucks into you more desperately than he realised he was going to. You’re vice-tight about him, utterly willing to give yourself up and let him show you what to do. He has the sense to slip one hand between you both to play with your clit as he fucks you - Sampo Koski is a gentleman, thank you very much, he might be taking advantage of your naivety but obviously he’s going to make you come, dammit - and you respond to him with helpless, brainless whines and little thrusts of your hips. 

You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve touched yourself a few times - thought of Mr Koski a few times, if you’re honest with yourself - but this is new. The feeling of something thick stretching you out, of a handsome man above you sighing and whispering out your name . . . The delicious feeling, too, of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. 

Your orgasm hits first, your body unused to the touches of someone who knows what they’re doing. Sampo is ruthless as you gasp out his name--

(“Mr Ko-- S-Sampo--!” - somehow, the way you trip over the title and replace it is even better than just hearing his name issue forth from your pretty mouth). 

His fingers don’t stop working over your clit even as you come, your channel pulsing around him wildly, your spine arching and a cry that’s pure pleasure working itself loose from your throat. All that your peak does is drive Sampo on, teeth grit, hips hungrily fucking into you until he feels himself twitch and his balls draw in tight and hot. 

He should pull out. The thought tickles the edges of his consciousness; that he should let his release splatter all over your thighs instead of filling you up with it, letting himself keep fucking it shallowly into your tight little cunt with the weak aftershocks pushing him to carry on thrusting--

But . . . oh. The thought of you beneath him, fucked out and leaking his come. Your virgin sex full to the brim with him, claimed and taken and filled . . . 

Sampo groans out your name and shoots rope after rope of his own release inside of you, losing track of anything but the feel of your body and the feeling of conquering something uncharted. 

You lie there beneath him, big pretty eyes blinking up at him, cheeks wet with tears of pleasure and surprise and over-stimulation. Your chest heaves against his, your heart rabbiting. Both of your skins sweat-slick where they press against one another. 

You look up at him like a hero who’s hung the moon and shown them a brand new world, and Sampo looks down at you like you’re just the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen, committing the sight of you - fucked for the first time, ruined for the first time, claimed for the first time, and all by him - to memory. 

“You did great,” he says to you, and kisses you softly on the forehead. “Thanks for the help, sweetheart.”

He knew what he wanted, and he got it. But looking at you beneath him, remembering all the things he’s fantasised about, taking in how your hero worship doesn’t seem to have ebbed even the slightest bit . . . 

that's the alert that begins gojo's unraveling, rolling into his notification center. his heart kicks up an irritating notch when he flips his phone over in his hand and reads your username on the screen. he can feel the curious eyes of his three former students on his back as they trail him down the hall, but he has tunnel vision and cotton ears, their incessant chatter echoing in one ear and out the other.

"gojo-sensei, did you hear anything i just said?" megumi snaps, his annoyed tone barely registering.

"i heard a rumor that he finally has a girlfriend now, that's why he's always so distracted," nobara gossips into yuuji's ear, the two casting a long, knowing glance at their mentor.

"so it's like that?"

"it's like that."

"what were you saying?" gojo asks distractedly, lifting one side of his blindfold to unlock his phone, bringing up the twitter app. his main account loads first and he spares a single glance to nanami's weekend vacation update, two for tsukumo straddling her motorbike in hokkaido, and none for aoi ranting about takada's dating rumors at the top of his timeline.

he never hears megumi's reply because he's too busy switching to his private account, an empty lurker with a black photo. eager to click your profile.

tonight's stream invitation is pinned at the top, decorated with pink hearts but he ignores that for now. making sure to hold his phone at an angle his nosy ass kids can't peek at, a long pale finger swipes up to bring the scroll down to a spam of grwm selfies you just posted, a ritual before your streams. you're cute as a button in each one, but it's the last one— on hands and knees, ass pointed to the camera—that makes him groan, the sound covered up by an exaggerated sneeze.

"um, gross!" nobara screeches at him, folding her arms and leaning away. "you sounded like a middle aged dad."

satoru stops his long stride suddenly, masking his irritation by reaching into his pocket for his wallet, flipping the leather open for a spare credit card. he hands it to kugisaki with a pat on her head, grinning when she slaps his hand down and pockets his card without question.

"you know what? mission’s canceled for tonight!" he cheers, already heading in the opposite direction, shooting finger guns. he's eager to get away from his kids and to his office where he can concentrate on your stream. "go out without me and have fun!"

he waves off their confused looks, disappearing in a flash. attention glued to his phone like a teenaged boy. the sorcerer feels his cock twitch to life in his pants the longer he stares at your picture. you're wearing a skater dress that barely covers your plump ass, giving your twitter followers a tease of soft skin and cute stretch marks on the back of your thighs.

he knows that if he wants to see more, like the devastating visual of your slit spread around your favorite dildo, he'll have to join the stream and tip up.

not many people know about your other life. the angel who brings in sponge cake and iced coffee each morning to gojo, who shyly refuses to meet his stare whenever he walks into the room, unable to stand the intensity of his flirtations, is a camgirl with views high enough to land you in the top rated tab. people tipped you good and in return, you let them control your pleasure.

and gojo satoru is your biggest fan.

he hadn't been stalking when he found out. he'd just been passing by one of the staff rooms with the intention of terrorizing ijichi and found you instead, boldly streaming from your phone, whispering i bought my first vibrator! should i try it at work?

those annoying hot girls in your area, click for more! ads weren't needed because gojo had never made an account so fast.

and if he tuned into your grainy stream from his office, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he watched you push your panties to the side, phone camera positioned in an upskirt shot of you struggling to fit the small, vibrating toy inside your tight little cunt? mind your business.

he unlocks the door to his office now, shutting himself in before he clicks the streaming link, letting his phone redirect to the site so he can log in.

username: honoredone89 password: hollowedout28

"is the stream stable? hi, welcome! we'll get started soon."

the sound of your airy, girlish voice rings out from his phone as he falls into a leather lounge chair. you're streaming from your room this evening, dressed in frilly and frothy lingerie and a pair of lacy thigh highs, sitting up on your knees on a bed draped in a white gossamer canopy.

rosy led lights wash out the pretty tone of your skin in a soft pink glow, selling your sweet and innocent image. gojo figures that's why you're so popular— you feed right into their desires to turn out girls like you, drawing them in like worker bees to honey.

"how's my apprenticeship? it's going so good, thank you!" you answer a comment from one of your regulars, waving shyly at the viewers pouring into the virtual room.

"this won't be a long stream since i have to wake up early tomorrow, but..." you prattle on, leaning forward to check the viewer count. gojo's attention is drawn to the plump swell of your breasts in your bralette. god, he wants to run his lips all over the lace so bad; tonguing and biting over your nipples through the flimsy fabric until they're bitten raw. "while we wait for more to join, what did you boys do today-"

"ah, shoot. i almost forgot!" you gasp, twisting around to lean out of the canopy; opening the drawer on the nightstand.

as you rummage around, bent over, you accidentally allow your fans to admire the panties you're wearing. crotchless and lacy, the clips of a garter attached to your stockings. the backshot gives him a perfect peak at the shadowed seam of your pussy too, the little scraps of fabric on the front kissing your clit.

but more importantly, he can see the heart-shaped glass plug buried in the dip of your ass.

oh. well, when did you get that?

his tastebuds water, sweet tooth waking up for cravings. a quick decision made that he will stop holding himself back and get a taste of you, that he will be the end to your innocence.

in2feet chatted: this is boring hurry up and get naked

nakedman chatted: location? i'd fuck your ass so good kitten

it was obviously unintentional because your look of ditzy confusion is too cute when you turn around with the matching dildo, shaped like a sailor moon wand. but it ends up being the perfect way to begin your stream— tips roll in without prompting, chat pinging with comments.

"hehe, what are you guys- o-oh.." your question ends in a small sigh that makes his cock throb in his slacks. the air feels stagnant and warm in his office so he drags his blindfold down, unbuttoning the high collar of his jacket. you settled back on the bed too fast, the glass flare of the plug in your ass shifting, pushing a little deeper, twinging an unfamiliar lurch in your tummy. "t-to be honest, i've never used a plug before so it hurts a bit."

a young starlet improvising on a mistake, you lift the wand to your lips. pastel pink tongue peeking out to wet the tip as you blink innocently at the cam. "can i put this in the other hole to distract myself from the pain?"

gojo can feel his brain rotting down to the stems.

you settle against the cloudbank of pillows, bringing your laptop a little closer to finish setting up and check the time. "before i start, i want to remind everyone that i'll only take requests from the highest tipper tonight!"

cyberme chatted: whenever you're ready, baby. we're watching!

cyberme and 10 others tipped 20 hearts

tittystan (★ tip) tipped 50 hearts

"you guys are so sweet!" the sound of the tip bell and chat alerts fill the volume of your room, drowning out your voice. lewd requests and thirsty comments begin to chime in, begging for you to remove your bra, show your pussy, play with the plug in your ass.

you have these men wrapped around your little finger, even though their hearts will be cashed out for real coins at the end of the night.

tittystan (★ tip) chatted: play with those pretty tits for us pls

"is this okay?" your impatient thumb rubs over a clothed nipple, shivering at the touch. more tips fumble in and gojo can see you build the confidence you need to push your bralette down, tucking it under the curve of your breasts so they spill right out.

fuck... he can't help but imagine his large digits replacing yours, dragging the calloused pads of his thumbs over your nipples until you cry and his thirsty ass can drink up your tears.

satoru shifts, leaning back in his barcelona chair as he reaches down to press the heel of his palm to the swelling bulge of his cock at the same time you squeeze one of the fleshy globes into your hand, a soft whine whistling past your clenched teeth.

jacker82 (★ tip) tipped 250 hearts and chatted: fuck yourself on the dildo alr!

you nod at the comment, opening your legs a bit only to snap them shut a heartbeat later. "i-i'm sorry, i'm so nervous tonight!" your teeth chew against your bottom lip as encouraging comments ring in your chat, words of praises that urges you to go further.

posessiveness burns green through his veins at the comments from other men, but he knows how to take what he wants and right now, what he wants is your attention only on him.

honoredone89 chatted: don't be nervous. i'm with you.

honoredone89 chatted: go on and open up for me.

gojo doesn't miss the glow of arousal in your eyes as you read his comment, your heart beating faster than it ever has. honoredone89... you missed seeing his comments on your streams. he felt more like a collaborator, unafraid to poke, prod, tease. the way he talks shit at you leaves you soaked and whining each time, wondering who he is; crying into your pillow whenever he'd toss down five hundred to make you cum, then throw down another five to switch up and edge you at the last minute. want me to change my mind, angel? he'd chat out and you could almost taste his smirk.

you would be lying if you said that your little crush on this anonymous person had nothing to do with him reminding you of the white-haired fox you were instantly drawn to at the start of your apprenticeship. honoredone89 could very well be one of those creeps that records cam shows to reupload to shady porn sites or a catfish. after all, his profile picture is the lower half of a (really fucking gorgeous) mirror selfie. but considering that a man like the actual satoru wouldn't return your silly, growing affections, you're fine with cosplaying.

"o-okay, sorry," you obey him so easily, parting your knees, finally giving your fans a view of your pretty pussy in those crotchless panties. gojo should be ashamed, but he groans at the sight. you sigh as the cool air breezes over feverish skin, cooling the wetness clinging to your folds. it's why your fans love you so much— so wet during streams, no need for lube when your cute little pussy drools out the sweetest nectar no one has had the pleasure of tasting.

"look at you, sweet girl. you got any idea what you do to me?" you've barely shown anything and he feels like losing his fucking mind.

satoru should feel guilty for what he does next, but his conscious is crystal clear. mind blank and too fucking horny to think about propriety, he unbuttons his slacks. fishes his cock out to squeeze at the base, relieving some of the ache. his balls jump desperately as you slide the glass toy between your legs on the screen.

then his phone pings with a notif the moment you press the tip to your clit— a text from megumi dropping down, covering his view of the torturous circles you rub around the swelling nub. a swipe further down and you prod it against your entrance, panting out a low whine that knocks the wind out of gojo's chest, ears ringing.

"p-please let me put it inside!" you cry to the chat, noises so pretty. you'll sound even prettier when you're under him, squirming and pleading for him to fuck you until you live only for the feeling of his cock.

gojo's summer blue eyes scan over the message from megumi, ensuring his kids aren't in danger while he fucks himself off. he chokes off breathy groans so he can hear your moans, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his cock. muscles in his stomach twitching in pleasure as he nudges it inside the slit so clear, watery precum dribbles past his fingers to spill down the long length of his cock.

user20180407 chatted: fuck yourself already i'm so hard!

instead of gojo replying to an annoyed megumi complaining about having to go to a pachinko parlor (yuuji's idea, no doubt) with the others, he taps the tip button before he can stop himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 1050 hearts

honoredone89 (★ tip)  chatted: just your fingers tonight, sweet girl.

"c-can i put them inside?" is your immediate answer.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: nope, don't think i want you to do that.

the unhappy comments from your other viewers almost gives him more pleasure than the feeling of his palm rubbing out his cock in rough strokes.

"okay, thank you, sir," you tuck in with a soft smile. he knows you're thanking him for the fat wad of cash in your tip jar, not him snatching away your pleasure, but the sound of the honorific from your lips sends a zip of arousal straight down his spine. the way he fucks into his hand is messy now, dragging his hand up and down his dick. precum coating his fingers white, dripping onto his slacks. "thank you for letting me touch my clit."

he's your highest tipper and your pleasure is always in the hands of your tip jar. setting the toy aside with the hope he'll let you use it later, you open your legs until your knees touch the sheets, joints in your hips aching. reaching fingers to the opening in your panties. you're so soaked, pretty lace all darkened in spots. you spread your folds, circling your clit with two fingers.

"oooh, o-oh.. it's not enough, please let me-"

"hope y'r this greedy when i feed you my cock, princess, fuck. gonna... give you what you need soon, don't worry," he promises to empty air, sweating hard beneath his jacket with his hand tight around his cock. imagining that he's got you right here in his office, fucking up into your pussy as you struggle to bounce on him. on the phone, his speaker rings with your frustrated whines. your thighs tremble as you rub your clit too fast, making it sore.

a few attempt to match his price and tip him out, wanting control over your delicious pleasure; wanting you to use the dildo so they can imagine the little toy is their cocks. but unlike the cheap fucks swarming around your chat, the black metal of his bank card is limitless. there's no one that can stop him from blowing hot cash on an even hotter girl so he does. doubling your tips, tripling it down each time.

the sorcerer has plans that won't be ruined by old men escaping nagging wives and stressful jobs by twisting their dicks to the moans of pretty girls.

at the end of the night, he plans on adding another maraschino cherry to the top of his ice cream sundae.

but that all depends on you.

now when did he close his eyes? on his screen, gojo almost misses it. the prettiest sight.

"c-can i cum, sir?" you simper to your fans, to him. "fuck me. it.. it's right there. please say yes, please please!" circling the pad of your finger under the hood of your clit where you're most sensitive at, you slide a hand up your body to squeeze one of your breasts. a soft gasp pushing out to join the squish of your fingers rubbing through the wet between your thighs.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 2000 hearts!

user20221030 chatted: this rich fuck is so annoying stop hogging!

gojo sounds like a maniac when he tosses his head and howls at the comment, unrestrained laughs choking off into a deep moan when he strokes down and squeezes the base of his cock. fighting off his orgasm for a torturous edge to himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: since you can't hold it, go on and show everyone how pretty you are when you cum.

"yu-yes, sir!"

gojo wasn't lying. even the lagging connection to your stream can't dim the beauty you are when you reach your high. it burns a hole into his brain, tearing shivers down his spine as he watches the band snap as soon as you answer his comment. it's real, but you make it pretty, arching off the bed, thrashing, clamping your thighs together as you cum with strained whimpers.

reluctantly, he takes his wet cock and tucks himself away, hissing as the sensitive head presses against the zipper of his slacks.

"did you guys cum too?" you're asking shyly, ready to end your livestream. gojo cleans his hand on his blindfold with a snort at the viewers complimenting your show.

user203020 chatted: u need to block that rich dude. it's unfair. not coming back until u do

cyberme chatted: so hot, kitten. see you next time!

tittystan chatted: don't go babe i didn't get to cum yet :c

sitting up, you wrap your arms around your legs, chin resting atop your knees. your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your little orgasm, but you pull the laptop closer with a blissfully tired smile to answer questions, goodnight wishes, and thank your viewers for their support.

"thank you so much! if you have ideas for my next stream, leave a reply on twitter," you say distractedly, tapping on your laptop.

gojo's phone buzzes with a notification shortly after and he's not surprised that it's a message sent to his account on the cam site.

xoyoursweetenerxo ♡ : hi >< you were my highest tipper!!! do you have any requests for me?

is what the message reads and gojo wears a big smirk as the cards deal a lucky hand just for him. he cradles his phone in both hands as long fingers fly over the keyboard to reply.

no more time wasted after he's blown away hours, weeks, months on the chase for you.

honoredone89: you know what? i think i do!

honoredone89 is typing . . .

honoredone89: open your door for me.

404 error: this livestream has ended!

somehow, that leads to gojo satoru standing in the middle of your room at jujutsu tech.

you'd barely had time to fix your lingerie and clear the smudges of your lipstick before a familiar rap of knuckles was at your door— the same rhythm gojo knocks against your desk each morning to get your attention.

he looks out of place standing in the frills of your pink wonderland, led lights turning pure white hair the color of blush as he glances around at your bishoujo figurines, sanrio plushies, and special edition manga volumes.

"cute," he comments with an amused smile and points, your cheeks warming as you follow his line of vision to the sailor moon dildo sitting on your sheets, forgotten. "where's the other one?"

"h-how did you know..."

"still inside you, i take it?"

"h-how!" your reaction is adorable, different now that you're in front of him. fiddling with the ribbons of your robe, unable to watch his gemstone blue eyes darken to a deep pit of arousal when you nod.

with the feeling of a hare caught in a trap, you watch as he crosses the tiny space to stand in front of you. crowding you against the kitchenette with his imposing six foot three stature. though you want to shrink away, there is something about him that beckons you closer like the limitless, making you want to stay close to him and soak up more of his attention.

"ah, um- i bought these for you earlier today!" you blurt out to him in a hurried whisper, scrambling to reach for the decorated jar of lollipops you intended to gift to him tomorrow. "there's cream, melon, cotton candy, there's matcha too because i know you like-"

"you scared of me?" he wonders, but he accepts your distraction, plucking a cherry-flavored lollipop for himself, amused.

"no!"

he's very attractive without his blindfold, snowy peaks of hair sitting wild over his forehead. you watch as he unwraps the treat, tasting it for the first time like he's tasting you, his tongue working around it; swirling and licking it obscenely on purpose. waiting for that shift, the shameful press of your thighs even though you just had an orgasm. falling for it, you shyly avert your gaze and gojo fights down a smirk.

"there's no need to be nervous, you know," he soothes, hooking a finger under your chin. the deep croon of his voice curls down your spine, bubbling hot desire in your tummy. "i'm right here with you."

"i-i'm not nervous!" you say, wanting to reassure him that he is welcome even though a small voice tells you to run.

after all, haven't you heard the rumors about him?

compliment him in any busy ladies room and you'll summon rumors that gojo satoru picks cherries like a farmer. that gojo satoru fucks girls high in his penthouse, only to drop them low when he ushers them to the elevator hours later. that gojo satoru—

i don't believe it, and your naive schoolgirl crush on him bats those thoughts away.

"obviously a camgirl wouldn't be nervous, silly me," he nods, tone light and teasing. he tilts his head to the side as he reaches for you, thumb easing your silk robe apart. sensual as he pushes it off your shoulder, a shiver rolling down your spine. "did you mean what you said?"

"what do you mean?"

"in your stream," he hums, skimming up the curve of your neck. fingernails scraping lightly over your pulse, and his cock aches at the strangled sound you make. "when you begged me to touch you, fuck you. did you mean what you said, sweet girl?"

"the tipper... honoredone89..."

"was me, yes," he points to himself, smiling. it takes a little while for realization to dawn and he thinks you're too sweet. god, after he finishes breaking in your cunt, he wants to protect you from men like him for the rest of his life. only after, though. "expecting someone uglier?"

where you should feel mortification, you feel sticky and full of attraction for the older man in front of you. how many times did you fuck yourself on two fingers while watching couples on cam, imagining gojo was there and pressing your legs to your chest while he fucked the inexperience right out of you? how many times did you wish that snarky regular on your streams was actually him?

"g-gojo?" you call softly, peeking up at him through thick fans of lashes. twiddling your fingers together in a gesture so fucking cute, it makes his stomach churn. "can i ask you something?"

"hmm? go ahead."

"how many virgins have you fucked?"

"why? you wanna be my one and only?" he teases, a mocking grin set on his lips. "you're really a virgin... too sweet."

"i didn't say that! i.. it's the reason i started streaming. to learn more! it’s an experiment because i don't know how to make someone else feel good." you're babbling, the words rushing out too quickly as you fidget and grip the hem of your robe, looking down to avoid his eyes. "will you teach me?”

“if i teach you, don’t think i’ll go easy on you,” his grin is wicked before he reaches down to ruffle your hair, as if you’re a precious little gem to him. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetness. it just means i’ll really have to put my back into it!”

putting his back into it means fucking you absolutely dumb, but you don't need to know that yet.

the way he looks at you is an awakening. with a little burst of confidence, you make your own decision; burying your fingers into the collar of his jacket, bringing him down for your first kiss. it's a little awkward with the stick of lollipop in his mouth and your inexperience, teeth and stiff lips until he takes the lead. his lips feel like clouds and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of candy flavored spit on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before; kissing you into dizziness.

"please," you pull away, eyes begging— he only needs to be told once.

he takes it in stride, smirking around the stick of lollipop. he draws his hand down, fingers sliding under your bralette to toy with the doughy skin of your breast, rolling a nipple between two pads until the bud pebbles under his touch.

then his path switches, traveling lower and you know exactly where his hand is going. heart fluttering wildly, you whine and nervously press closer to him, hiding your face against the front of his jacket.

but you weren't stopping him, you didn't want to. curiosity coaxes your desire for gojo satoru out of its shell. the entire reason you started exploring the world of porn and cam shows, frustration and curiosity. most women your age had bloomed and blossomed. they were experienced while you felt left behind. never been taken on a date, never been kissed, never been fucked.

a clean slate for the taking.

"i wonder why you're so pretty, hm? been torturing me for months, sweet thing," gojo nudges your feet apart, tongue pushing out the lollipop for one last suck, his lips star candy pink. making you want to kiss him again. "want to taste you instead."

"you mean..."

"don't worry, i'll take good care of you," he gently plucks your hands from his jacket, lowering his lithe body to the floor in a fluid motion. he props one of your thighs over his shoulder, shamelessly spreading your pussy open for him.

cheeks heated, the sight of gojo staring between your legs with a ravenous glint in his eye is too much. your hands fly over your eyes, but he's not having it; reaching up to snatch them down. "good girls keep their eyes open, don't they? how will you learn?"

he hasn't even touched you and yet, lust buzzes an ache between your hips that is driving you crazy.

"good girls deserve to know what it looks like, what it feels like to have me right here,” he continues and leans in to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. nips and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet yips. he slides a thumb between your folds, splitting them to play with your clit. you feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before you choke it off.

"g-gojo-"

he builds the anticipation. getting you used to the motion of something familiar before he opens your pussy for business— the sweetest dessert all for him before the main course. "so what do you think? gonna let me taste how sweet this pussy is, angel?"

"what if you don't like the taste?" you hesitate, hand slipping into the milky clouds of his hair. "i-i heard that happens."

"trying to keep it all to yourself?" he teases, eyes shining as he crooks a smile at you. he indulges you with another feathery kiss to your thigh, his hand on your hip, caressing the skin lightly. "there's no way i won't like the taste of you. not when i have this-"

before you know it, he presses something warm and sticky to your clit, replacing his finger. when you realize just what it is, you whimper loudly.

"oh, oh god. y-you're supposed to use your fingers-" you point out halfheartedly. gojo drags the sugary ball of the lollipop against your clit in tantalizing swirls, smearing the sticky cherry syrup across your pussy and mixing it with your own juices.

"i'll clean up after myself, sweet thing," he reassures, nose pressed to the soft curls at your mound, breathing in your heady scent before he tips his head forward to taste you. this is his favorite part- the possessive feeling in his chest once a virgin is on his tongue, knowing he's the first one to look up and see heaven above him. to hear your soft whimpers and feel the unsure tremble of your thighs.

"how does it feel? you like it?" he asks, kissing your clit with a gentle suck that tightens the muscles in your tummy. he licks against you with skill, tongue a warm wetness over your clit. the feeling gojo pulls from you is all new, butterflies between your hipbones as your cunt flutters around emptiness.

"i think i like it, sir. i-it's so-" you whine, the honorific a slip up. ashamed to talk filth to a man you're assigned to bring oversweetened coffee to every morning. it's so easy talking to the men behind your camera. they're blank faces that pay for a performance and to be soaked in the right words. in person, in front of the man who brings you alive, your tongue is tied up in the heat he licks into your throbbing pussy.

"sir, huh?" you can feel his grin spread along your lower lips, his chuckle vibrating against your skin. he stiffens his tongue for a harder lick, quick flits that bathes your clit in bubbly spit, burning pleasure into your nerves that drives you to tears.

gojo's fingers press bruises into your squishy thighs, locking you in his strong hold. he trails the syrupy sphere of the sucker down to your drooling little hole, nudging until he slowly works the candy up into your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit back into his mouth.

you choke out a wet sob, your hands pushing at his shoulders. squirming and trembling, plush walls clamping down around the hard ball of the lollipop with a wince as he fucks it in slow, his eyes focused on the way your walls slurps it inside.

nothing could have prepared you for gojo satoru fucking you with a piece of candy.

"bet your fans would love to see this," he muses, releasing your puffy clit with a shameful pop, a trail of spit and slick connecting you to the sorcerer's chin. "you can barely handle a piece of candy. look at this cute little pussy struggling to take it."

he can't hide his arousal when you taste this good, smacking and slurping like his last meal on earth is between your legs. you release a frustrated whine when he removes the candy, but he appeases you with his tongue— dragging the pink muscle down to curl it into your pussy, the squishy feeling of it making you squeak and grip the edge of the counter behind you.

gojo mumbles a deep groan, tastes so fucking sweet, curling his tongue in and out of you languidly, your squeaks tapering off into breathy pants. he's running out of patience, your noises shooting straight to his leaking cock, but he's determined not to rush. he wants to savor your first time. savor the sweet taste of sugar combined with the earthy flavor of you.

he has to make it good so you remember him after you inevitably come to your senses and make him leave before he breaks your heart.

his palm moves up and lands on your breast, squeezing too hard but you whine for the twinge of pain, placing your hands over his larger one. you hold him like a lifeline as he makes good on his promise of cleaning you all up— drinking down every little drop of candy coated slick until you run dry, until the wet slide against your folds is because of his spit.

"i-i'm-" the stretch of his tongue is so good, your eyelashes wet as you chase the sensation. second orgasm on the brink with his skilled mouth licking and suckling over sensitive nerves. you could end it there, cum on his tongue and let him tuck you into bed after, but you've had enough of not knowing what it feels like to be manhandled down onto a bed, kissed slow, and fucked open by his cock.

you want it to be him and no one else.

"you close?" he reels back, lapping at the entrance to your heat, a tease that makes you cry out. blues flit up to look at you, gaze soft and patient even though his desperation to be inside you has him fraying at the seams. when you nod at him, pushing your hips forward, begging, he grins. "didn't you already cum tonight? who taught you to be so greedy, hmm?"

"i-i'm s-"

"you think you can hold it for me? no, i know you can. hold it for me baby. don't cum."

"n-no, don't! wanna cum, please please- wanna cum so bad!" but he's not hearing it. he pinches your clit meanly until the twinge of pain clouds over your orgasm, laughing lightly as you drive your fist into his shoulder in frustration, a hit that doesn't hurt him one bit.

he pats your mound with a smile but before he stands to his full height, he ghosts his sticky lips over your ankle as he sets your foot to the floor, teeth grazing the anklet you're wearing. a tender kiss that has no business making your heart flutter like that when he's so mean.

"i'll make sure of it, but right now i need you to save it for me, pretty princess. i promise it'll be so much better if you cum around my cock." the sorcerer whispers his filth to your ear, leaving wet kisses along the shell. is it normal for your knees to be so weak? "ain't that what you wanted earlier? want something to fill your pussy up, don't you?"

you're so shivery that you hold onto gojo like your life depends on it. feeling wet and used between your legs already.

somehow, you know that gojo satoru is above what you're able to handle. he's a grown man and you're an apprentice parading as a camgirl who just had your first kiss. but really, it hardly matters when you want him in too many ways to care anymore.

"i want it, want it so bad, please!" you chant, prepared to get on your knees and beg for it while this otherworldly attractive man grins down at you. you feel like sobbing when he listens, circling his arms under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. legs cling to his waist as he walks the few paces it takes to reach your bed, splaying you out amongst the pillows.

"then i'll give it to you, sweet thing. but first, i think you'd be more comfortable in a familiar setting, hmm?"

he wants to film your first time.

it's filthy and you should refuse, but it's also exactly what you daydreamed of. all those nights honoredone89 watched your streams, you wished he was actually there. in front of the camera with you, back to his chest while he stretched you wide on three fingers and claimed you as his for all of your viewers to see.

you're too shy to actually let your fans watch you be fucked by someone else, but you let him hit record on your laptop, the pink camera at the edge of your bed recording a private show for your eyes only, but giving you the illusion of a livestream nonetheless. "don't pay attention to the camera until i tell you to, okay? eyes on me."

after a small nod from you, he makes quick work of his uniform. unbuttoning his jacket to reveal broad planes of smooth ivory skin. shoving his slacks down, no underwear like you expected so his dick springs out, slapping warmth against your thigh.

it's easy to forget you're being filmed when you’re too busy gaping at him undressing. washboard abs taper off into a carved adonis belt dusted with moonlight hair. and with the eyes of a curious virgin, your gaze peeks down to his cock and it makes your tastebuds water. a perfect balance of long and girthy, the smooth tip blushing pretty and pink.

"can i touch it?" your dewy lashes flutter as you reach forward, wanting to know what the weight feels like in your hand. wanting to brush your fingers over the blue veins, maybe even dip your head down to lap up the pearly precum drooling from the head.

"nuh-uh, but you can feel it," he sucks his teeth in reprimand, catching your hand and brushing an affectionate kiss across your fingertips. "alright, sweetheart. how do you want it?"

"i-i always imagined i'd be on my stomach," you whisper, wanting to sink into your covers after voicing such a thing. a combination of your favorite fantasy position and wanting to hide your face from the camera.

"as you wish."

he obliges, gripping your waist and rolling you over for him, front pressed flat into the pillowy mattress. though your hips are caged in by gojo's strong thighs, you wriggle your legs back and forth, cutely tapping his lower back with your toes.

"i-i hear it's better like this." you mumble into the pillow under your cheek, just to get rid of the silence in the air.

he only laughs at your small talk, kissing your shoulder with care. "oh, sweet girl. i'll show you how much better it is."

nerves flutter in your tummy at that, but you trust him more than anything— more than the women who warned you not to harbor a crush on him. he straddles your thighs, reaching into the pocket of his discarded slacks.

you hear the crinkling of a foil packet being ripped, all the air whistling from your lungs in a shaky breath as you twist around, embarrassed; catching him about to roll a condom over his cock. "w-wait-"

"cold feet?"

"no," god, no. "i- please, you don't have to wear one of those."

"yeah?" gojo snorts with a growing smile, but he shrugs and tosses the protection aside, caution to the wind and no further questions on it. blood rushes to his head quick now, dizzy as he draws your hips up a little until your ass bumps against his stomach. you're so easy to move, so cute and weak, like feathers under him.

his patience was lost long ago, but he's a team player. he gathers the seat of your ass against his palms, a soft peach that jiggles when he squeezes and kneads to the song of your whines, his eyes hypnotized by the jeweled plug. "you've had this in for so long, princess." he draws a long finger down the line of your ass, tugging at the plug gently to see your hole spread. the remnants of the lube you used makes it an easy slide as he pulls it out. tossing it to the sheets.

he coos when you squirm away from him with a soft cry, hurts satoru, and he fucking loves the sound of his given name on your tongue. his thumb rubs over the puckered entrance to soothe the soreness. it would be so easy to sink his finger in, cock up next, but he'll save that for another night. "sorry, princess, i know. i'm just making room. i don't think you're ready to take both yet.. let me make it up to you."

gojo keeps your cheeks spread, slotting his cock in the tight space between your plump thighs. he pushes the thick cockhead through your sopping folds. you can feel the milky pearls of precum smearing along your thighs and cunt with his thrusts, a wet slide right against your heat but it's not enough. "p-please-"

"f-fuck, sweetheart. how are you gonna fit me inside you? look at this."

he's mean for teasing a virgin so much, but he can't help himself. he glances up at the recording laptop; the cam feed showing him your face pressed into the pillows, writhing all over your pretty sheets. fuck, you look so good. he's used to breaking in the starstruck beauties who flock to him, but he plays favorites now— fearing that once he truly has you, you’ll never let go of his heart, his cock.

"i don't- oh god- i don't know, but i want to try, sir," you breathe out through your whines, the honorific only baiting him into getting your way, a true performer. "p-please let me try!"

"such a good girl, even when your fans aren't watching. if you want it, take it then. put it in for me," he almost pleads, wanting to see that you want this just as much and you fucking do. too teased out to feel the jitters fluttering in your heart. you reach behind you, hand fumbling to wrap around his girth. skin feverish after hearing his heavy intake of breath— oh, you did that to him. satoru ducks his head to grip your chin and kiss all over your face, heated presses of his lips reserved for a lover. a distraction for you both as you guide his cockhead to nudge at the entrance of your pretty virgin cunt—

your eyes mist over, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes; losing focus after his hips sink forward. hiding your face in the sheets again, you muffle the depraved whimpers you hiccup out as gojo's cock forces your walls to spread open just for him. white heat slicking your body with sweat as you squirm under him on the bed. he's so fucking long, and he chuckles when you slide a hand down to your stomach to make sure you can't feel him there, too. he feeds you his cock slow so you feel every inch of him, bullying a spot to sit right up against your womb.

"t-too big- oh 'm god, it's too big satoru!"

"you cryin' f' me, baby?" oh, he is aching. no room in the little space your pussy gives him. he struggles to breathe, hair sticking to his forehead as he fights for his composure. he wants to treat you tenderly, break you in the right way, but you're a hot brand around his cock, sucking him in so good it drives him wild.

"s-satoru-"

"you feel that? much better than your toys, isn't it?" he kneels, pinning one hand over your back to keep you in place. "you can take it, cutie. just ease up for me a little, i've got you."

you try to relax, eyes shut and sheets bitten into your mouth. you've never felt anything like it— the intrusion of his cock builds a pressure that none of your toys could've prepared you for. an overwhelmingly tight fit, you feel too full, in over your head. pussy staining his cock with frothy slick as he draws his hips back for an experimental thrust, an emptiness that makes you whine loudly for him to fill you up again.

"talk to me, tell me how it feels, angel."

"o-oh- i don't... i don't know-" you gasp, leaning up on your elbows, a sensual dip in your back, the way you've seen the girls on the nsfw accounts you follow pose. the webcam films your fucked out expression and you're too cock hungry to care about it now, watching it shamelessly on the screen of your laptop.

"can't talk?" gojo taunts, digging his nails into the skin of your ass as he levels his weight into his hips and fucks forward. heavy, deep snaps that furrows your brow cutely, determined as you try your best to take him like you imagine the experienced women who are used to the oppressive force of his cock do.

"want me to slow down?" he asks softly, a little worried. after all, it wouldn't be the first time his dick knocked someone out. but you shake your head rapidly and he cackles, pairing that insane sound with deeper thrusts, sharp hipbones rutting against the back of your ass as he bottoms out again— too deep.

"wan' see your face, please 'toru, please," you blubber into the sheets, but his keen hearing picks it up anyway. stopping is the hardest thing ever, but he pulls out; pushes you onto your back with a hiss.

"can't believe you wanna watch me break in this cute little pussy. what changed?" he goads, but he doesn't wait for your answer. "you know what to do."

shyly, you wriggle down the bed until your hips are flush against his, reaching between the sweaty shadow of your bodies to handle his damp cock again. the stretch is no easier to take the second time, but you know what it feels like. pining for the slight twinge, the hot burn as he spreads sweet fire through your nerves. the weight of his cock fucking your pussy open in slow, teasing thrusts that leaves you whining.

"don't go easy on me-"

satoru listens instantaneously, pounding you roughly as he nips and marks your sweaty skin as his, little love bites along your neck you'll have to cover in the morning. something he never does, but call him attached to you now. "that's all you needed, ain't it? you don't want those sick fucks watching you. just wanted me to make a mess of this pretty pussy."

"y-yes!" you cry against his shoulder and he buries his nose against the pulse point at your neck, inhaling sweet gulps of sex and perfume. a grunt kicks out of his chest as he leaves you, leaning back on his heels to fuck harder, your fingers flying to his forearms as he grips your waist, tugging you forward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

you become a victim to his skilled fucking, to the harsh slap of his hips that a virgin has no business taking. thighs trembling up a storm, desperately trying to close as his cockhead drags along your gummy walls on the quick pull out, fucking your nerves to a red glow.

"you're so good for me, best girl. so good. keep these legs nice and spread for me so i can fuck this pussy the way she deserves."

neither of you pay attention to the blinking red light of your webcam, too lost in the throes of good fucking. satoru can't keep his eyes off of you as you wriggle desperately underneath him. you're a mess; lips swollen and slicked with spit from your lolling tongue, hair splayed out all over your sanrio pillows while you stare up at him through teary, lidded eyes with the most fucked out look of adoration for the man pounding you, he almost feels guilty.

"s'toru.. satoru- w-will i get to cum again? it feels so- but i can't-"

he loses his final thread of sanity at your little pants and whines of his name. "some girls need it right here, d... don't they, sweet girl?" he says, stuttering when your pussy clenches him in on a good stroke. slick squelches out of you, staining your favorite sheets in a gooey puddle. it's how he knows his cock is fucking you at the right angle, brushed up against that precious spot nestled along your walls. your back arches high off the sheets when he hits it, but a big palm at your belly presses you down, refusing to let you run.

"it feels better right here, too," he tells you, his hand shifting down. drawing sticky shapes of his initials under the hood of your sore, puffy clit— and you've touched yourself enough times to know what the feeling means. the pooling of sweet heat in your belly, the giddy waves of dopamine swirling in your nerves as a man throws you into your peak for the first time. "feel it yet? yeah you do. cum for me like a good fucking girl, make a mess of my cock like it's yours, pretty girl. give it to me."

you're sobbing for him, clinging to him as if he can protect you from the force of your own orgasm. tears welling up in your big eyes as the knot in your tummy bursts so suddenly and you cum, walls fluttering around satoru's cock so tight it pains him to thrust through it. no thought in your pretty mind except the relentless pressure he fucks out of your body. overstimulation sets in too quick and you push at his stomach frantically as your juices splash onto the sheets, wetting all over his hand and bathing down the white trail of hair on his stomach. "i-it's too much, wait-"

"fucking.. fuck, princess- let me go or ‘m gonna cum inside you.. you're sucking me in so tight. f-fuck!" he is only seconds behind you, remembering at the last minute to draw back on his heels and pull his cock out of your weeping pussy. you're still shaking in the aftermath of the best orgasm you've ever had but he’s pinching your puffy lips between his pointer and thumb. it only takes a few rubs of his cock through your swollen folds before he whines low in his throat, grunting and tossing his head back as he spills thick ropes of opaque cum all over your pretty crotchless panties and ruined pussy.

"o-oh.. there's so much of it-" you marvel and when he opens his eyes again on the come down, hips kicking weakly now, he sees you reaching down to run your fingers through the cum he left between your thighs, pinching his sticky seed between your fingers curiously.

you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"yeah, that happens," he chuckles with no breath in his lungs, no energy to tease you about it. he is too dignified to collapse on the bed with a softening dick, in need of a long ass nap, so he leans forward and pets the roots of your hair softly. "you need anything? besides a bath and your diary to give me raving reviews, of course.”

"i..." you start, sitting up and reaching for the closest thing that can cover you besides the stained sheets of your bed: gojo's uniform jacket. you drape it around your front, looking away to hide the vulnerability in your eyes. "can you stay until i fall asleep? you can leave after but.. i don't.."

don't be greedy, is what he would usually tell a woman asking him to sleepover after he's snatched her innocence up and fucked her into a limp. but with you, the sinking feeling in his chest, the months of pocketing your hidden smiles and shy flirtations to think about during his darkest hours, tells him only one thing: he wouldn't have left even if you asked him to.

"i'm not going anywhere."

gojo experiences a first tonight, too. for the first time ever, he doesn't run.

instead, he stays. cleans you up with a warm towel and eases you into clean underwear, though you insist on wearing his jacket as pajamas. he even helps you change your soaked sheets ( with insufferable comments asking if he can keep them. ) you don't know what it means when a man stays after being your first, but your heart feels too warm and a little bit in lo—

"what's that sound?"

you're about to tuck into bed, ready to snuggle in safe and sound with gojo watching over you when his voice speaks up. now that your post-orgasmic haze has cleared a little, you hear it too. the quiet chime of the tip and chat bells ringing wildly from your still open laptop.

the camera at the end of your bed blinking lipstick red from its perch on the tripod.

like.boobs.97 chatted: that bastard is so lucky.

"oh... oh, no!" you squeal, scrambling to shut the laptop down, face burning with mortification. you should have checked, you should have checked. you have to help satoru with his emails in the morning, why did you trust him to click the right button?

you've been streaming to your viewers on the cam site the entire time.

"whoops," is all gojo says, carefree and flippant as ever as he moves to stretch out across your bed like an oversized unbothered cat, drawing you against his body.

"so, you gonna introduce me as your new boyfriend or what?"

A soft noise escapes from the back of his throat, but you ignore him, just like you did his texts. He gulps as you unbutton your blouse agonizingly slowly, taking your time with each button. When you get all of them open, you shrug the fabric off your shoulders, letting it slide down your arms until it pools behind you on the floor.

You also take your time with your skirt, sliding it down your legs slowly, caressing your skin with the tips of your fingers. Gojo’s eyes are glued to you, hypnotized by the little show you’re putting on. He bites hard on the gag, eyes traveling down your body and taking in your thin lingerie.

His breath becomes heavy; coming out in short and ragged huffs. You let your hands roam your own body, groping your breasts over your clothes, fondling, tugging on your visibly hardened nipples. You don’t have to stimulate yourself much; the pictures of Gojo and him jerking off practically embedded in your eyelids. And now you have him in front of you, completely defenseless and at your mercy — and you feel merciless.

You brush your fingers over your clothed pussy, gasping at the featherlight touch over your sensitive area. You can feel the sticky fabric, darkened with your arousal. Gojo’s brow twitches as he lets out a soft grunt.

Eyes on his, you slip two fingers inside your panties, rubbing them up and down your slit to pleasure yourself. You pant softly, biting your lip as you insert two fingers inside your wet cunt. With one hand fingering yourself, you use the other one to play with your breasts, sighing with pleasure. You only pause to unclasp your bra and drop it to the floor, your panties following soon after. And there you are, completely naked in front of him… and completely out of his reach.

You move closer, and stay just far enough so that if you moved a hair closer, you’d be touching, just to taunt him. You drop to your knees, spreading your legs open to give him a full view, and start rubbing your fingers on yourself. Gojo whines, his arms struggling against his bonds. He lets out an uncomfortable groan, shimming his hips on the chair.

You smile up at him, pumping yourself slowly.

“Look at you, so hard when I haven’t even touched you,” you whisper, moaning softly afterward. And it’s that what drives him especially mad, when you moan like that in his ear; when he makes you moan like that as he curls his slender fingers inside your tight, warm pussy. “How does it feel… seeing everything, but not being able to touch me?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, and realization dawns on him. He swallows hard, guessing what will happen throughout the night. He isn’t excited about it; you’re planning to torture him into madness. “Can you tell how wet I am for you?” Gojo groans again, the veins in his neck popping out. “You can, can’t you? You can tell how much I want you, as…” you’re interrupted by your own moan. “As I fuck myself with my fingers… really, really wishing you were here.”

Gojo’s eyes darken at the phrase, watching helplessly as you pleasure yourself with your fingers. He clenches his jaw, his mouth watering at the sight in front of him. His boxers are starting to feel extremely constricting against his throbbing cock, and he realizes that was what you had planned all along. You wanted him to feel the need you had felt; how uncomfortable your clothes felt while you watched him jerking off.

And he can only watch as you come undone on your own fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as though it physically hurts not being able to touch you. And, well, it actually does.

His body twitches forward when you inch closer, thinking you’ll finally untie him so he can fuck you right. Instead, you reach for the bag you had left behind the chair, and Gojo groans deeply when he sees the vibrator in your hand.

You switch it on, the soft, buzzing noise filling the room. He clenches all of his muscles when you place a hand on his knee, looking up at him through your lashes. He grimaces, eyes transfixed on your parted lips, wanting to fuck your mouth more than anything.

His breathing quickens when you lift the vibrator, sliding it up his leg and toward his crotch. You tilt your head when your eyes land on the dark, wet patch of pre-cum in his underwear, and you brush your hand over it lightly, tracing the wet circle with your finger. Gojo moans, the area feeling overly sensitive.

“Mmm, poor baby,” your voice is low and mocking, and God, it turns him on so fucking much. “I would love to lick you clean, but I’m afraid these are in the way,” you murmur, pulling on the band of his underwear and snapping it against his hip. Gojo lets out what sounds like a curse, wide eyes on the vibrator inching closer and closer to his crotch. He cries out when you press the toy firmly against him, his fingers clawing the air. He ends up gripping the legs of the chair so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Gojo gasps against the gag, biting down on it as his hips buck upwards, chasing the toy in your hand.

“Aw, you pathetic little thing; trying to relieve yourself when you know you don’t actually deserve it.” You chuckle, moving the vibrator to press it against yourself instead.

Gojo feels himself harden more (if that’s even possible) at your condescending tone. Shit, that drives him insane, and you know it.

Your moan is lewd and loud, and you grip Gojo’s leg as you rub the vibrator all over your pussy, taking special care of your clit. Gojo keeps trying to talk, his chest heaving up and down with ragged breaths, but you pay no attention to him. All you’re focusing on is pleasuring yourself, and making him watch. You love the strained sounds coming from the back of his throat, his body twitching with need; his erection pressing torturously against his tight boxers, wet with pre-cum.

You moan his name, which only makes him tug on his bonds harder, and you gasp and squirm as you touch all the right places with the vibrator. You speed up the circles you’re drawing on your clit, angling yourself toward him when, for the second time, you feel that familiar knot at the pit of your stomach. And, without a warning, you start squirting aggressively, mouth falling open as your orgasm hits you, sprinkling him as you come undone with pleasured cries.

Gojo fights against his restraints to no avail, desperately searching your eyes to look at you pleadingly. Good, he’s desperate. So had you been, when your phone kept pinging with notifications of his pictures, with a full view of his thick cock, right there, but so far away. Yours, but unreachable.

You take a second to catch your breath after your second orgasm, hooded eyes looking at the trembling man in front of your. You kneel between his legs, palming him over his tight boxers.

“These look tight,” you tut, and he groans gutturally, brows scrunched up and head thrown back as you massage him.

You hook your fingers in the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down just enough for his member to spring out. Gojo lets out a huge sigh of relief, eyes closing in delight at the freeing feeling. His eyes snap open when you curl your fingers around him, sliding them up his thick shaft. He gasps, hypnotized by the circular pattern your thumb is lazily drawing on the tip of his cock, oozing thick drops of pre-cum. You stick your tongue out, licking the salty liquid. Gojo moans in an animalistic way, his abdomen tensing up as you surround his tip with your hot, wet mouth, his moans increasing when you run your tongue over his slit to get all the pre-cum he’s released.

You bob your head up and down his length, forcing yourself to take him whole; going deep, so deep he feels the back of your throat. Gojo throws his head back, his fingers flexing with the urge to hold your face still as he fucks your pretty mouth.

You don’t stop until your nose touches his pelvis, and you take the chance to squeeze his balls softly, caressing them gently as you move your head to please him. Gojo pants heavily, unable to take his eyes off you, his cock twitching inside your mouth at the sight of your dark lips wrapped around him.

You pull back, licking a hot, long strip from the bottom of his shaft to his tip, putting him whole in your mouth again. You place your hands on his hips to still his movements, knowing him too well to know he’s dying to thrust his hips up to force himself on you.

You moan against him, sending exquisite vibrations down to the base of his cock. Gojo groans wildly, closing his eyes in enjoyment — which doesn’t last long, because, suddenly, when he’s just about to go over the edge, you pull back and stand up, a devilish smile on your lips.

Gojo whines at the lack of heat, legs trembling pathetically.

“You came at least three times, baby,” you coo, stroking his jaw with your fingers. When you reach his chin, you force him to look up into your eyes, your smile broadening when you see the tortured expression on his face. “Oh, don’t make that face. That’s not what you looked like when you were making such a mess all over yourself.”

You hum, placing featherlight kisses along his jaw. When you’ve traced your lips along it, you move downward, peppering his neck with kisses. You’re not as gentle with his collarbone, biting on his smooth, pale skin, sucking until you leave several marks all over his chest.

You pause in front of his right nipple, looking up at him as your tongue lashes out against it. Gojo gasps, arms tensing as he tries to pull them up. You wrap your lips around the hardened nub, his pants and gasps sounding so heavenly as you nibble softly on it, swirling your tongue around. You make sure to pay the same attention to the other side.

Gojo’s squirming in his place by the time you’re done with his nipples, and he suffers in failed silence as you start humping his thigh, grinding your hips against him to reach your third orgasm. It doesn’t take you long to get there. He feels everything; the way your folds spread to smear your slick and cum along his upper thigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your sweet, breathy moans fill his ears. His skin’s shimmery with sweat, and his muscles feel sore of straining so much — he can barely even breath.

“Looks like you’d like to say something.”

He nods fervently.

You study him for a moment, tracing the muzzle with the tip of your index finger. You hum teasingly, tugging on it to remove it from his mouth. You let it rest against his chest, like a nice, doggy collar. Maybe you should’ve brought the collar with you — he always looks so pretty in it.

Gojo actually gasps for air, panting loudly as he struggles to get a single word out.

“Baby—“

“Shhh…” you whisper, pressing your finger against his lips, hushing him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You stand up slowly, hoisting a leg on his thigh so your sopping cunt is fully exposed in front of him. Gojo swallows hard, his eyes gazing up at you, still pleading. You don’t care.

“Baby…” he tries speaking again, his husky voice breaking. You interrupt him by crashing your lips against his in a fierce, demanding and possessive kiss. “Mph!”

“Be a good boy,” you say. “And keep your mouth shut. If I hear even one of those pathetic little whimpers of yours, you’re not leaving this chair.” You gasp when you bury your fingers inside your messy pussy once again, pumping fast, curling your fingers, using the heel of your palm to stimulate your clit. It’s messy, loud, and extremely wet. With your other hand, you hold his face in place, digging your nails in the soft flesh of his cheeks as you force him to keep his eyes on you. “That’s it, baby. Keep your eyes on me,” you say, throwing your head back, a filthy moan escaping your lips.

When you open your eyes and look at him, you can’t help the groan you give. His eyes are impossibly dark, hypnotized by the way your cunt sucks your fingers in with ease, biting on his bottom lip so hard that you’re sure he’s going to draw blood if he doesn’t stop. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and he looks just so submissive, trying his best to swallow the moans clawing at his throat. He might cum just by looking at you.

“Satoru…” you gasp.

After three orgasms, reaching the fourth one isn’t too difficult of a task; everything’s so sensitive you could just keep cumming over and over again. And wouldn’t it be fun to make him watch?

You come undone against him, squirting all over him once more as you let a dragged out moan. His lips part open when he exhales shakily, and you take the chance to push your wet fingers inside his mouth.

“Lick them clean,” you instruct. He whines as he collects all of your arousal on your hand with his tongue, savoring it. He hums, desperately trying to lick every last drop of it. You watch as a little bit of drool dribbles down his chin — he’s such a mess, and it’s all thanks to you.

“Please…” he gasps, finding it extremely hard to speak with how hard he’s panting. “Please stop.” His voice cracks, and you watch with a satisfied smile as he’s finally completely and absolutely broken. “I need you. Do whatever you want, just please, please let me cum. Please, baby,” he literally begs between pants.

You hum, drumming you fingertips along his jawline.

“Look at you, crying like a child.”

“Please, I’m begging you. J-just fuck me.”

“You’ve endured everything so well… maybe you do deserve to cum, after all,” you murmur against his lips. “Well, who am I to say no?” you say, pressing your lips against his in a gentle, rewarding kiss.

You position yourself on top of him, stroking him twice before rubbing his tip against your entrance. You both moan, and you lower yourself to put the tip in, holding onto his  broad shoulders for support.

Then, you slide down onto him fully, gasping as his thick cock spreads your walls apart, and Gojo lets out a loud, pathetic, shaky whimper when he fills you up completely, the feeling of your tight warmth enveloping him absolutely heavenly. He moans aggressively when you rock your hips against him, pressing his forehead against your chest to muffle his cries — you notice he’s being unusually loud.

You haven’t been riding him for too long — in fact, you’d only just barely even started when you feel him tensing up beneath you. Gojo buries his face in the crook of your neck, crying out, screaming when he shoots his hot load into your cunt, hard spasms making his body twitch after cumming extremely hard inside you (honestly, the amount is impressive). He whimpers repeatedly against your skin, his face falling to hide in your chest.

Your eyes widen in surprise; he came in a matter of seconds. That had never happened before.

“Oh, baby,” you coo softly, brushing his hair back to take a good look at his face. “Already?”

Gojo gulps, face growing hot with embarrassment. His lips part open as he lets out short pants, averting his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out, desperately gasping for air, his abdomen still spasming with aftershocks. “I’m so sorry. I just… I don’t know what the fuck just happened…”

“It’s okay, baby,” you reassure him, kissing him sweetly. You push your tongue into his mouth, getting a moan out of him. “That doesn’t mean the fun’s over… it just means it’ll be more fun to watch.”

Gojo’s frown turns into a pleasured expression, head lolling back as you roll your hips against his. He feels himself twitching inside you, and he can’t help lifting his hips to meet yours, the sounds of skin slapping with each thrust driving him mad with lust.

He grips the legs of the chair tightly, pushing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss. Gojo looks down between your bodies, eyes darkening even more when he sees his dick being devoured by your pussy, sucked back in over and over again. But what he loves even more is seeing how his cum drips down between you, spurting everywhere whenever you slam yourself down on him.

He moans against your breasts, biting on your skin to leave a couple marks of his own. You pull him closer by the neck to connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you become one.

You slow down the rhythm, circling your hips in that way that he simply adores, only to switch back to hopping hard on him, and then rocking yourself gently back and forth.

It’s safe to say that Gojo also cums more than once.

After his fourth orgasm, Gojo throws his head back, panting heavily.

You brush his hair lovingly, stroking his cheeks with light fingers until he manages to catch his breath. He lifts his gaze to look at you. You have a soft smile on your lips.

“Have you learned your lesson, baby?” you ask in a hushed voice, your fingers sliding to his chin to lift it. “Only I can make you cum.”

Gojo’s lips part with a soft gasp, a wicked smile spreading across his face.