Choso being an eager puppy and a bad dog
Warnings: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, he’s going crazy in that thang
“No, no,” you shove his hands away, “that’s all you get tonight.”
“No, no, no, come on, baby, I know you have one more in there for me,” he pleads, quickly replacing his hands each time you push them off, dancing around your grip in different spots at your hips. “There’s one more, I promise. You did it last time!”
“Tonight’s just different, Choso, I’m done,” you hiss, jolting when his finger lands home on you before you smack it away.
“That’s not fair. You don’t get to change it up like that,” he pants, licking his lips at how close he’d gotten. He finagles his thighs up underneath your knees before you can stop him, and it gives him enough room to grip them from underneath, palms at the backside of your thighs and pushing up, up, up until your knees are at your head.
You squeal, breaths getting trapped in your chest. “Choso,” you choke out. “Let me go!”
“No.” He grins up at you from between your legs, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. You feel a change in his grip on your legs, a strengthening of his hold——he’s putting real muscle into it now. You’re trapped, and your spine aches from your inflexibility, from the unnatural curl he’s propped your pelvis up into in effort to glue your knees on either side of your head.
Your organs are being crushed, but he doesn’t even care. You watch, hopeless, breathless, as Choso opens his maw and hangs out his tongue, a large gob of spit sliding down his tastebuds, past the center dip of the pink muscle, and clinging to the tip for just a moment.
Then it drips off and splashes heavy down onto your clit. Bullseye. You jerk, hard, and Choso grins wide.
“She’s ready for another one.” He gives you a pointed look. “You just don’t know how to listen to her. Not like I do.” He nuzzles his cheek against your inner thigh, staring lovingly at your wet cunt split wide before him.
“Worked so hard tonight, she deserves one more treat from Papa.” He gives your slit a quick french kiss.
“Don’t call yourself that; it’s creepy,” you hiss, still trying to wriggle out of his hold.
“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head. “She likes it. Look at her smile.” He pushes your knees back just a little farther, forcing a breath right out of you. His eyes are laser-focused on your cunt, the seam of his lips a broad curve. “Gorgeous thing, beautiful little grin. Good kisser, too.”
He plows his mouth back down against you without another word, tongue diving deeper than you thought possible. You slam your head back against the pillows, a scream bitten between your teeth.
A cramp starts building in your hips. You pant, dig your fingernails into Choso’s scalp and try to drag him off, but if anything, it makes him more frenzied. His tongue dances a circle inside you, slathering the entire muscle with his spit, and he’s pressing his nose closer into your folds.
“Choso,” you pant, you plea. “Choso, off! Off!”
His eyes flutter open, a sinful, throaty moan muffled into your depths as he meets your eyes, half-lidded. He winks, and his thumbs begin massaging circles against the inside of your knees, but he still doesn’t move. Stays buried deep in your cunt, open mouthed, eating at you like his last meal.
You suck in another breath, have to because your diaphragm’s compressing up against your lungs, hamstrings feathering under his palms from the strain.
“Please,” you wheeze like a deflating balloon, tugging weakly at the poms on either side of his scalp. “Hurts.”
He surfaces with a wet pop at that, and you flutter at the cool breaths he huffs over you, panting like a dog. “Know it does, sweetheart, that’s why I’m trying to help you.”
Like you’re just acting silly. Like you’re an idiot. A match strikes against your spine, anger like flames sparking up in you quickly.
You sneer, kicking and twisting harder against his steel grip. But if he won’t let you go, you’ll fight back another way. “Fine,” you bark, parking both hands on the back of his head and gripping tightly. “I can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.” You press his face against you, hard, frustration flowing through you so steadily you almost wish you could fracture his nose against your clit. Teach this idiot between your legs something real to cry about.
He whines into you, mouths some word right into your lips.
He fights back against your hold, just enough, surfacing with a gasp. His eyes peel open with force, and his pupils are blown. You hadn’t realized it, but just past his bunched shoulders and tapered waist are two hips grinding frantically into the mattress beneath you.
You draw your eyes back to his, brows furrowed. A blissfully smile comes right back at you. “Harder,” he whispers, cheeks turning a flustered pink.
Christ, this guy. You grit your teeth tightening your hold on the back of his head again, releasing a tight, long-suffering sigh while you wrench his head back to your cunt.
Your eyes roll back into your head.
Best just to let him tire himself out, anyway.
