!nerdjo x reader | part 7
Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar
part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here! part 5 here! part 6 here!
cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X
By Thursday afternoon, the campus had already slipped back into its familiar rhythm. Inside the café, students drifted in and out between classes, backpacks slung lazily over one shoulder, coffee cups balanced precariously in their hands as they hurried to their next destination. Laughter echoed through the room while the sharp hiss of the milk steamer rose from behind the counter.
None of it reached you.
Your notebook lay open in front of you, the same page untouched for the past ten minutes. The coffee you’d bought had long gone cold.
It had only been a few days since everything that happened at your apartment, and your brain still hadn’t fully caught up.
A few weeks ago, your biggest worry had been trying to steal glances at him without getting caught. He always sat in the same seat — impossibly tall even when slouched over his notebook, white hair catching the sunlight streaming through the lecture hall windows. He listened to every lecture with an almost embarrassing amount of focus, occasionally pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when they slipped.
Now…
Well. Life had taken a very strange turn.
Your fingers traced the edge of the paper cup absentmindedly as a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
He used to borrow your notes. It still sounded ridiculous.
Satoru Gojo — arguably the smartest person in any room he entered — would lean over after class with pink ears and that adorably hesitant smile.
“Could I borrow yours?”
At the time, you’d assumed he’d actually missed something. Or that your handwriting was just easier to read.
Now? You almost laughed. There was no universe in which Satoru Gojo genuinely needed your notes. He had just been looking for an excuse.
"...Idiot" you muttered
Though honestly, you weren’t sure if you were talking about him or yourself.
Your thoughts drifted again, unbidden, back to that hallway at Choso’s party. To the way you’d walked away convinced you had ruined any chance of things ever being normal again. To the guilt that had eaten you alive the next day… only to find out he had been unraveling just as badly.
You still didn’t know what to do with that information.
Or maybe you did — with a dark, warm certainty that settled low in your stomach.
Your mind betrayed you once more, replaying the image you’d been trying—and failing—not to revisit.
Satoru sitting in that chair. Head tipped inward. Glasses slipping down his nose. Looking up at you with those impossibly blue eyes, waiting for permission before doing something as simple as moving his own hand.
You swallowed.
You had spent days wondering what kind of woman could reduce someone so smart and composed into a hopeless, whimpering mess.
Turns out… it had been you all along.
Your mind immediately went back to it. That night in your room. You were there again, vividly—the way you had spread your legs on your own bed, handed him the dildo, and told him to show you exactly what he wanted to do to you. You could still feel the phantom weight of him between your thighs, the broken, jagged sounds he made while fucking you with it, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, glasses fogged up, face face flushed with a mix of shame and raw lust.
You remembered the way he had desperately moaned when you finally gave him permission to touch himself, how hard he came while staring at you with such reverent, shattered worship, and the quiet, hiccuping sobs that followed once he was spent. The memory of the look on his face when you finally opened the door and sent him home—dazed, hollowed out—sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your body.
You’d seen a side of him no one else had. The one who looked at you like every word out of your mouth was worth obeying. The one who blushed so beautifully. The one who tried so hard to be good for you.
You couldn’t stop wondering what would happen the next time someone leaned over his desk after class. The next time some girl smiled at him. The next time someone called his name with that same sugary sweetness you’d heard a hundred times before.
None of them had ever seen him falling apart beneath a single whispered command. None of them knew how desperately he tried to please you.
And, for reasons you weren’t quite ready to examine… You didn’t want anyone else to.
That thought lingered a little longer than it should have.
Shit.
Maybe that was the problem.
You’d walked into his apartment that night fully convinced you were the one about to ruin him, eager to finally confront him about that secret porn channel he’d dedicated to you. You’d wanted to watch him squirm, to see him realize he’d been caught in his own web of obsession.
Now you weren’t so sure who’d gotten the worse end of the deal.
“You’re gonna burn that page if you keep staring at it.”
Shoko’s voice cut cleanly through your thoughts. You flinched, the sharp edges of your reality snapping back into focus.
You blinked and finally looked up as she slid into the chair across from you. She looked effortlessly cool, condensation from her iced coffee dripping onto the table, that signature knowing grin already stretching across her face.
“I guess pretty eyes has you zoning out again,” she said, her voice dropping into a playful, teasing tone.
“Maybe” you muttered, your voice raspy. You took a long, calculated sip of your now lukewarm coffee, using it as a shield to avoid her piercing gaze. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks—not from the coffee, but from the vivid memory you’d just been replaying.
“Oh, that’s bad.”
“…What?”
“You said maybe,” Shoko pointed out, clearly delighted. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “A week ago, you would’ve denied it in 0.2 seconds, probably with a whole lecture about academic focus.”
You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to regain your composure, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips.
“I hate you.”
Shoko snorted and leaned back in her chair, studying you with open amusement, her gaze sharp, analyzing the way you were fidgeting with your cup. “…So?”
“So?” you echoed, already knowing where this was going.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened after you practically ran from Choso’s party following that hallway situation?” She tilted her head, her expression softening into mock-seriousness. “Or am I supposed to keep surviving on breadcrumbs for the rest of the semester?”
You looked away, tracing the rim of your cup with your thumb. The memory of Satoru’s wrecked face—glasses fogged, lips swollen, cum staining his hoodie—flashed behind your eyelids like a neon sign.
“We talked,” you said eventually
“Mhm.”
“And… some things happened.”
“Some things” Shoko repeated slowly, tasting the words. She took a slow sip of her drink, watching you over the rim of the cup. “Interesting choice of words for someone who usually has a descriptive analysis for everything.”
“I’m not elaborating.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, though her grin made it clear she was dying for details. She stirred her iced coffee absentmindedly “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, though. It’s written all over him.”
You frowned. “You met him twice.”
“Don’t need much more than that. It took me approximately thirty seconds to realize he would’ve folded like wet paper if you’d asked him to bark.”
You nearly choked on your coffee. Shoko just laughed softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“I’ll admit…” she continued, her voice dropping “I didn’t exactly picture you being the one calling the shots”
You raised an eyebrow.
“You thought I’d be the one getting bossed around?”
“…No. But I also didn’t expect him to hand you the leash on a silver platter with a little bow on it.”
A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
“Neither did I” you admitted, shaking your head.
Shoko glanced down at her phone, then back at you with a mischievous glint.
“Oh, by the way. Suguru’s having people over tonight.”
You paused. You’d heard the name before—just some guy Shoko had been taking a class with lately. She’d mentioned him in passing once or twice, though you’d never bothered to pay much attention to the details.
“He said I could invite you.” she added, tapping the screen.
“I think I’ll pass” you said.
Shoko smiled, slow and dangerous.
“No, you won’t.”
“…Why are you so sure?”
“Because pretty eyes is gonna be there. He’s friends with Suguru.”
You froze for half a second. You hadn't known that. The new information clicked into place, shifting the dynamics of your evening instantly. The anticipation hit you with a cold, sharp thrill.
“So… wear something cute” she added
“I’m not dressing up for him.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure you are,” Shoko said, dismissive. She leaned forward, smirking “Just don’t make the poor guy cry in someone else’s house.”
—
Back in your apartment, the silence felt almost suspicious after the constant, buzzing chatter of the campus café. Your bag lay abandoned on the couch, one boot discarded near the bedroom door after you’d kicked it off without thinking. You settled into your desk chair, laptop already open.
Almost instinctively, you opened the shared document:
Draft - Chemistry Project / Vancomycin Resistance
The cursor blinked, mocking you for a heartbeat before it moved—a sudden, frantic shift in the discussion section. You stared. He was online.
You watched, mesmerized, as Satoru smoothed out a clunky sentence, fixed a typo, and added a citation with effortless precision. Of course he was working on it on a Friday afternoon.
Your lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.
Nerd.
You skimmed his edits. He had formatted the references with almost mathematical obsession and left a small, tentative comment beside one paragraph:
Not sure if this explanation is clear enough. Feel free to rewrite it!
You snorted softly. It was perfectly clear.
Still…
You scanned the text, searching for the smallest, most insignificant thing you could change. You found it: a misplaced comma and a slightly awkward word choice. You fixed both, savoring the tiny thrill of editing his perfection.
After saving the document, you hesitated for a second before typing a single comment beneath his:
Now it's perfect.
You laughed as you imagined him reading it. You could practically see him adjusting his glasses, his brow furrowed as he frantically searched for the "mistakes" he’d made.
Closing the laptop, you stretched, the tension in your shoulders finally easing, and wandered toward the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, the apartment had grown darker, the late afternoon light replaced by cool evening shadows. You stood in front of your closet, telling yourself this wasn’t a big deal. Yet you still reached for your denim skirt and the soft off-the-shoulder blue top that left your collarbones exposed.
You pulled on your knee-high boots, the leather snug against your calves. Catching your reflection in the mirror, the familiar traitorous thought slipped in: Would he…
You rolled your eyes at yourself and shook the thought away.
You’re not dressing up for him.
You reached for your perfume anyway, pressing the cool mist against your wrists.
“…Whatever” you whispered to the empty room.
Your phone buzzed on the bed.
Shoko: Leaving in ten.
You grabbed your bag, slipped your phone inside, took one last look around the apartment, and turned off the lights.
—
The music could already be heard from the hallway, soft and low, more background than anything else. You and Shoko stopped in front of the door, and she knocked twice.
Suguru opened it almost immediately. His eyes lit up when he saw her first.
“There you are,” he said with a warm, easy smile, pulling her into a quick hug. “Took you long enough.”
Shoko laughed and stepped inside. “Traffic was annoying.”
Only then did Suguru’s gaze shift to you. He paused for half a second, studying you with quiet curiosity.
“You must be the chemistry partner,” he said, tone light and friendly. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Chemistry partner. Satoru had clearly talked about you. The realization sent a warm, dangerous flutter through your stomach.
“You too” you replied, offering him a small smile.
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside. He handed you a cold beer without asking, the gesture casual. “Help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen. We’re just chilling for now.”
As he walked away, you took a sip of your beer, your eyes scanning the room instinctively.
You found him on the couch. And, of course, the blonde girl from your chemistry class had already claimed the spot right beside him, her body angled toward his with irritating confidence.
Seriously? Again?
Satoru was mid-sentence when his gaze lifted and found you across the room. His eyes widened slightly. For a moment, whatever the girl had been saying died in the air between them.
You took him in with one quick look: a clean white t-shirt under an open light-blue shirt, black trousers, and those familiar glasses perched perfectly in place.
The blonde followed his line of sight. The moment she saw you, her expression shifted. It was a micro-interaction—No eye roll, no sneer. Just a slow, tight smile that flickered and faded the moment she realized who he was looking at. A silent, instinctive understanding.
She tried again, her voice slightly clipped. “Satoru?”
He didn’t respond. He didn't even blink.
So she made her move. It was natural, social, and perfectly acceptable—a hand resting lightly on his knee. A gesture meant to bridge the gap and drag him back to her reality.
“Toru… you heard me?” she asked, sweeter this time.
He blinked, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He looked slightly dazed, like he had to manually drag himself back to the conversation.
You took another sip of your beer, trying to ignore the sharp urge to walk over and remove her hand yourself.
Choso’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He approached with an easy grin, beer bottle dangling from his fingers.
"There she is"
“Hey,” you greeted, relaxing a little. “You know Suguru?”
“Yeah. Mutual friends.”
His eyes flicked toward the couch where Satoru was sitting, then back to you.
“You ever made it to his room?” he asked quietly.
You looked at him over the rim of your bottle. “Mmh.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. “Got it. I’m not Shoko — I’m not gonna interrogate you.”
“Thank you.”
Before you could say anything else, Shoko appeared and grabbed your arm, guiding you and Choso toward the empty space directly across from Satoru’s couch. The shift in the room was immediate.
Satoru’s head snapped up. His lips curved into a small, genuine smile.
You returned a faint one, but your eyes immediately dropped to the girl’s hand still resting on his knee.
Why the hell won’t she move it?
The conversation around you flowed with laughter and music, everyone talking about classes and exams. But everything felt secondary to the tension stretching between you and Satoru. Shoko was clearly entertained, watching the whole thing like free drama.
The girl, realizing she had lost his attention completely, tried to pull him back. “Satoru, you disappeared from the party that night. I never got the chance to ask where—”
“He was busy.” you cut in, your voice sharp and calm.
Satoru choked on his drink, coughing as his face flushed a deep pink.
The girl stiffened, her smile turning into a brittle mask of confusion and offense, clearly trying to figure out exactly who the hell you were to speak for him. Beside you, Shoko let out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
Before the silence could get too awkward, Suguru appeared from the kitchen, clapping his hands once.
“Alright, everyone,” he announced, eyes darting between you and Satoru with clear amusement “Who’s up for a game? Truth or Dare sounds fun tonight.”
—
The game started innocently enough. A loose circle had formed in the living room — some people on the couches, others sitting on the floor with drinks in hand.
Choso went first.
“Truth” he said, leaning back with a lazy grin.
Suguru asked something harmless about his worst date. Choso answered with brutal honesty, making the whole group burst into laughter.
Shoko was next. She picked Dare, of course. Suguru made her text her most recent ex something ridiculous. She did it without hesitation, adding her signature acidic commentary that had everyone cracking up.
Suguru was clearly enjoying steering the game. There was a glint in his eye every time he asked a question or gave a dare.
You stayed mostly quiet, observing.
Satoru was the most timid of the group. He kept picking Truth, answering in short, shy sentences, cheeks pink every time someone teased him.
“Crystal,” Suguru said, looking at the blonde girl. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare” she answered confidently, smiling brightly.
Crystal. So that was her name. You’d never cared enough to learn it before.
“Sit on someone’s lap”
Crystal didn’t hesitate. She stood up gracefully and lowered herself onto Satoru’s lap, settling comfortably as if she belonged there. Her arm draped casually over his shoulder, body pressed against his chest.
Satoru froze.
You watched from across the circle, jaw tight.
Crystal laughed softly and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Her hand rested on his arm, then slid to his shoulder, and briefly across his chest.
You hated every second of it.
Satoru was visibly tense. His back was rigid, hands hovering awkwardly like he didn’t know where to put them. He answered her in monosyllables, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds — searching, almost apologetic.
It helped a little. But not enough.
Because her hand was still on him. Her body was still pressed against his. And you had to sit there and watch.
Shoko noticed everything. She didn’t say a word, but you could feel her gaze shifting between you, Crystal, and Suguru. You could practically hear her thinking: This is going to end badly.
Then your turn came.
Suguru looked at you, that dangerous little smile playing on his lips.
“Truth or Dare?”
You didn’t hesitate.
“Dare.”
Suguru’s smile widened.
“Pick one person. The two of you have to stay locked inside a room for fifteen minutes.”
A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted around the room. Someone wolf-whistled loudly. Shoko let out a laugh into her beer, already shaking her head in amusement. Suguru leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself.
You rose to your feet, your gaze locking onto Satoru. He was already looking at you.
“Satoru.”
A beat of heavy silence fell over the circle. Crystal blinked, her smile faltering completely for the first time that night.
Satoru swallowed hard. He gently helped her off his lap and stood up, a nervous expression on his face.
Without another glance at anyone else, you turned toward the hallway. A second later, you heard his footsteps following behind you.
The noise of the living room faded behind you as you walked down the dimly lit corridor, your boots clicking against the wooden floor. Satoru’s longer strides caught up quickly, though he kept a careful distance.
Suguru had locked the door behind you with a dramatic click and shouted “Fifteen minutes, lovebirds! No cheating!” followed by laughter from the group.
Now it was just the two of you in a small guest bedroom that smelled faintly of laundry and someone’s cologne.
You walked over to the dresser on the left and turned to face him.
Satoru stood near the door, hands shoved deep into his pockets, white hair messy under the warm lamp light. He looked tall and awkward and unfairly beautiful, like he didn’t quite know what to do with his own body in this small, intimate space.
“So…” he started, voice softer than usual, almost shy. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah you replied leaning back against the dresser, trying to appear calmer than you felt. “Fifteen minutes.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The silence stretched between you, thick with anticipation. Finally, he spoke again.
“I didn’t think you’d pick me,” he admitted, eyes flicking to the floor before returning to yours. “I thought maybe… I don’t know. Someone else.”
“Why? Are you upset you had to get up from where you were sitting comfortably with Crystal?” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue. “That is her name, isn't it?”
He winced. “What? N-no—I mean, she's nice, but—”
“I'm sure she is,” you cut him off, jealousy flaring in your chest. “You let her sit on your lap.”
The image flashed in your mind again — her perched on him, laughing, while he looked uncomfortable but didn’t push her away. Even though you knew it meant nothing to him, it still stung.
“It’s— It’s not like that,” he rushed out, eyes wide with urgency. “She just sat without asking and I didn’t know how to say no without being rude.”
God, he’s so cute when he panics like this.
You pushed off the dresser and stepped closer, holding his gaze. Satoru’s breath hitched audibly. His ears turned pink, the flush quickly spreading across his sharp cheekbones.
“I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you want”
The words from one of his videos echoed in your mind, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.
“Sit on the bed” you ordered.
He obeyed instantly, walking to the mattress and lowering his tall frame onto the edge. The bed dipped under his weight. You followed, climbing onto his lap and straddling him without hesitation.
Satoru’s eyes widened, a sharp inhale escaping him as your thighs settled on either side of his hips. You could already feel him starting to harden beneath you, the growing bulge pressing against your core through his jeans.
Heat flooded your body at the contact.
“Would you prefer her sitting on you like this?” you asked
“N-no, please” he breathed
“Mmmh.” You hummed softly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Do you like my outfit, Satoru?”
Of course you had dressed for him tonight, even if you’d pretended not to.
He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “Y-Yeah… You look… beautiful,” he said, voice hoarse. “You always do.”
Your chest tightened with a confusing mix of affection and lingering jealousy.
“What do you like?” you pressed, leaning in closer.
“Your—” His breath hitched as you pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. You felt his pulse jump wildly under your lips. “Your collarbone.. it’s exposed. I like it.”
His hands remained obediently at his sides, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. The sight of his restraint made something dark and satisfied bloom inside you.
“Touch it” you whispered.
“What?”
“Touch it” you repeated, taking one of his large hands and guiding it to your neck, then slowly dragging it lower. His palm was warm against your skin.
He swallowed again, struggling to keep his breathing steady.
“And what else?” you asked, guiding his hand further until it rested on the swell of your breast.
“Your… tits,” he admitted, voice cracking. “They look so pretty.”
You smirked and pressed his hand more firmly against you. Satoru let out a soft, broken sound, dropping his head forward to bury it in the crook of your neck. His breath came hot and shaky against your skin.
“Look at me, Satoru.”
He lifted his head. His eyes were dazed, glassy with arousal.
You shifted on his lap, your short skirt riding up higher and exposing more of your thighs. “And my skirt?”
His gaze dropped immediately, drinking in the sight of your thighs spread over him, the tiny skirt bunched up around your hips, and the obvious, thick bulge straining against his jeans. He was fully hard now, throbbing beneath you.
“I like it so much…” he whispered.
You took his other hand and guided it between your legs, pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your panties.
Satoru whimpered — a raw, needy sound — and his hips jerked up instinctively against you.
“Ahh—fuck…” he gasped, voice breaking as his fingers felt how wet you were. “You’re soaked.”
The jealousy from earlier still simmered under your skin, now mixing with raw, overwhelming desire. You rocked your hips slowly against his hand, letting him feel every bit of your heat while you leaned in close to his ear.
“Remember when I said we’d take this slow and you’d be rewarded?” you whispered, lips brushing his skin.
He nodded frantically, lips parted, breathing ragged.
You reached down between your bodies and palmed his hard length through his jeans. The moment you slowly unzipped him, his cock sprang free — heavy, flushed, and leaking at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.
You wrapped your fingers around him, giving one slow, teasing stroke. Before he could even process that you were finally touching him, you lifted your hips and positioned his throbbing cock right against your soaked panties.
“Ah—fuck, please” he begged, voice loud and desperate.
“Be a good boy and don’t cum, yeah?” you murmured against his lips.
Satoru moaned loudly, head falling back as his hips twitched beneath you, fighting hard to obey.
You kept your hand wrapped around his thick length for a moment longer, savoring how it pulsed hot and heavy in your palm. Then you lifted your hips just enough to drag the swollen head of his cock along your drenched panties.
The first slide was devastating.
His cock was burning hot; the thick head nudged against your clit through the thin fabric, parting your folds slightly and sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
“Ahh—fuck!” Satoru choked out, the sound raw and broken. “You’re so wet—I can’t”
“Look at me” you ordered, voice husky.
Satoru forced his eyes open. His pupils were blown wide, lashes fluttering. His cheeks were flushed dark red, lips shiny and parted as he panted. He already looked completely ruined, and you’d barely started.
You rocked your hips faster, pressing your soaked core harder against his throbbing cock. The way it slid between your folds — even through your panties — felt sinful. His thickness spread you open with every pass, the head nudging insistently against your entrance before sliding back up to torture your clit again.
Satoru’s hands fisted the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. His hips jerked up involuntarily, chasing the heat of your pussy.
“I—I can’t… you feel too good,” he whimpered, voice cracking beautifully. “I’m trying— fuck, I’m trying to be good—ahhn—”
You bit your lip, drunk on the desperate sounds he was making. Then you reached down, hooked your panties to the side with two fingers, and slowly nestled the bare, leaking head of his cock against your dripping folds.
Skin to skin for the first time.
The moment his hot, velvety cock pressed directly against your slick pussy, both of you moaned. The sensation was overwhelming. There was no fabric left between you — just the burning heat of his throbbing length sliding between your wet folds, coating him in your arousal.
“Oh my god—” Satoru gasped, eyes rolling back. His cock twitched violently against you, a thick bead of precum smearing across your clit. “It’s so warm… fuck— I can feel you dripping on me”
You started grinding on him again, slower this time, savoring the way his thick shaft slid perfectly between your folds. The swollen head bumped your clit with every upward stroke while the veiny underside dragged along your entrance, teasing you both mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room — slick schlick-schlick-schlick with every roll of your hips, your arousal making everything deliciously messy.
Satoru was trembling beneath you, thighs shaking, breathing in short, desperate gasps. Sweat beaded on his collarbones. His cock was so hard it looked painful, flushed dark and twitching every time you slid over him.
“Be good, Toru” you moaned, voice breathy. “Ahh— fuck… Don’t cum.”
A broken sob escaped his throat. “Y-yes— I’ll be good, I promise…”
You kept grinding on him, slow and deliberate, letting his bare cock slide between your slick folds. Satoru was falling apart underneath you, whimpering shamelessly with every pass. “Ah— ah— ah—”
“God… you have no idea how much I want your cock inside my tight pussy” you moaned.
Satoru let out another broken sob, hips jerking helplessly beneath you.
“I’m trying to punish you,” you panted, pressing down harder so his thick head caught against your entrance again and again without ever slipping inside, “but with every second I’m closer to just sinking down on you.”
His whole body trembled violently. You looked down between your bodies, watching his massive length slide through your glistening folds.
“Fucking biggest thing I’ve seen in my life…” you moaned, grinding faster, “and all I want is to bounce on it.”
Satoru cried out, head falling back, eyes glassy with desperation. His cock pulsed wildly, leaking nonstop all over your pussy as he fought not to cum.
“Fuck— please— don’t say that—” he whimpered, voice cracking. “I’m already losing my mind…”
He looked like he was in pain. Thighs shaking, veins standing out on his neck as he struggled with everything he had not to thrust up and bury himself inside you.
Satoru cried out, head falling back again, eyes glassy with desperation. His cock was pulsing wildly, leaking.
“Good,” you whispered, leaning down to bite his neck. “Suffer for me, Satoru. This is what you get for letting another girl sit on your lap.”
Satoru was nearly sobbing now, whimpering pathetically with every roll of your hips.
“You’re mine, Toru,” you panted, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Not Crystal’s. Not anyone else’s.”
“I’m yours— I’m yours— please—”
You could feel your own orgasm building — that tight, hot coil in your lower belly winding tighter with every wet slide. His cock was so hot, so hard, the veins dragging perfectly against your sensitive folds while his precum mixed with your slick, making everything obscenely slippery.
But he was getting too loud.
You reached down and yanked your top down in one smooth motion, freeing your breasts.
“Shut up, Toru,” you hissed, voice husky with pleasure. “They’re gonna hear you. Be a good boy and keep your mouth occupied.”
Satoru’s eyes widened with raw hunger. Without hesitation, he took off his glasses and tossed them onto the bed, then surged forward and latched onto your right breast. He sucked it into his hot, wet mouth like a man starved, his big hands gripping your waist.
“Fuck— yes…” you moaned softly, threading your fingers through his white hair and pulling him closer.
He whimpered loudly against your tit, the vibration shooting straight to your clit. He sucked harder, tongue swirling around your stiff nipple, alternating between sucking and licking as he lost himself completely in you. His moans turned muffled — wet, desperate sounds vibrating against your skin.
You started grinding faster, more desperately.
“That’s it… just like that,” you panted. “Feel how wet I am for you? My pussy’s dripping all over your cock, Toru.”
Satoru moaned pitifully into your breast, sucking harder as his hips jerked up to meet your movements. His cock twitched violently between your folds, clearly on the edge, but he fought it with everything he had.
“Ah— ah— mmph—!”
You rolled your hips in tight circles, pressing your clit firmly against the head of his cock. The pressure was perfect. Your thighs began to tremble.
“You’re being such a good boy,” you whispered, voice shaking with pleasure. “I can feel you leaking so much… you want to cum so bad, don’t you? But you’re not allowed. Not yet.”
Satoru let out a wrecked, muffled cry against your breast, sucking even harder as his body trembled violently beneath you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin.
You were so close.
Your grinding became frantic and sloppy, your soaked pussy sliding faster along his cock. The wet sounds were obscene.
“Fuck— Satoru— I’m gonna cum” you gasped.
Your orgasm hit you like a wave.
You cried out, thighs clamping around his hips as your pussy clenched and pulsed against his bare cock. Pleasure crashed through you in powerful waves, your slick gushing over his length while you kept grinding through every pulse of ecstasy.
Satoru whimpered loudly into your breast, body shaking as he fought not to cum with you. His cock throbbed wildly between your folds, but he held back — barely.
You rode out the last aftershocks, breathing hard, still slowly grinding your sensitive pussy along his drenched cock while he continued sucking greedily on your tit.
When the pleasure finally faded, you were left panting and trembling on top of him. Satoru was still sucking gently on your breast, whimpering softly, his cock throbbing painfully between your folds, denied any release.
You looked down at him — flushed, desperate, and crying again.
You winced, remembering Shoko’s earlier words.
“Don’t cry, baby,” you whispered, voice hoarse. You cupped his face with both hands and gently pulled him off your breast. “You’ve been such a good boy. You did so well for me. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Satoru let out a shaky, broken whimper at the praise, his blue eyes glassy and unfocused. His lips were swollen and shiny, cheeks burning red. He looked completely wrecked.
Just then, a loud knock echoed through the door.
“One minute!” Suguru called, amusement clear in his voice.
“Now we’re going back out there,” you murmured, leaning close to his ear, “and you’re going to hold it in until we get back to my place. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
Satoru nodded frantically. “Y-yes… I’ll hold it. I promise.”
You leaned in and kissed him deeply, slow and filthy. He moaned softly into your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.
When you finally pulled back, you climbed off his lap. Satoru stayed seated for a moment longer, breathing hard, trying to pull himself together. You fixed your top and skirt while he tucked his painfully hard, leaking cock back into his pants, wincing at the obvious bulge. He ran both hands through his messy white hair, rubbed his eyes, and put his glasses back on, attempting to look at least a little less destroyed.
As you both walked toward the door, you glanced back at him. The words spilled out before you could stop them.
“Don’t get close to Crystal again.”
Satoru nodded immediately. “I won’t” he whispered, voice still hoarse.
He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask if you were serious.
Just… I won’t.
It should have felt like a victory. Instead, it left a dangerous thought echoing in your mind:
Since when had you started acting like you had the right?
This was... STIMULATING, to say the least
Also... not Crystal making another cameo lmao🤣 (see this one)
Reblogs are sooo appreciated part 8 coming soon ! masterlist
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