1800-hot-and-fun

.

"father higuruma?"

he's as pure as a slate of marble. prudently wise, gentle in nature, compassionate without hesitation. he touches the side of your cheek and you make a soft noise, trying to lean into his warmth. with a blindfold on, you depend on your other senses to map out what higuruma is trying to do.

"stay still," he commands.

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. you whine, toes wiggling and shifting your legs uncomfortably. your wrists are bound behind your back and you kneel on the hardwood floor of his office.

you're overly eager to please, like a young puppy who wants to learn how to roll, shake paw, and beg all at once. higuruma decided that you needed to be disciplined. a house built on sand is unstable, he said, but those who build upon the solid rock of the lord cannot be moved. you'll learn one trick at a time under his watchful eye.

"surely even you know the fruits of the spirit," he muses. his cold fingertips find your chin, tilting your head back. you let him guide you. "recite them."

then comes the press of his leather shoe between your legs. you stiffen, breath caught in your throat as your clit catches the tip of his shoe. pressure turns into pleasure and your hips tremble.

"l-love, joy, peace- hah- patience... kindness, goodness, fuh- f-faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control," you stammer, face growing warmer with each second. you have to bite down on your lower lip to stop a whimper from escaping you as your pussy clenches around nothing.

.

"father higuruma?"

he's as pure as a slate of marble. prudently wise, gentle in nature, compassionate without hesitation. he touches the side of your cheek and you make a soft noise, trying to lean into his warmth. with a blindfold on, you depend on your other senses to map out what higuruma is trying to do.

"stay still," he commands.

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. you whine, toes wiggling and shifting your legs uncomfortably. your wrists are bound behind your back and you kneel on the hardwood floor of his office.

you're overly eager to please, like a young puppy who wants to learn how to roll, shake paw, and beg all at once. higuruma decided that you needed to be disciplined. a house built on sand is unstable, he said, but those who build upon the solid rock of the lord cannot be moved. you'll learn one trick at a time under his watchful eye.

"surely even you know the fruits of the spirit," he muses. his cold fingertips find your chin, tilting your head back. you let him guide you. "recite them."

then comes the press of his leather shoe between your legs. you stiffen, breath caught in your throat as your clit catches the tip of his shoe. pressure turns into pleasure and your hips tremble.

"l-love, joy, peace- hah- patience... kindness, goodness, fuh- f-faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control," you stammer, face growing warmer with each second. you have to bite down on your lower lip to stop a whimper from escaping you as your pussy clenches around nothing.

.

"father higuruma?"

he's as pure as a slate of marble. prudently wise, gentle in nature, compassionate without hesitation. he touches the side of your cheek and you make a soft noise, trying to lean into his warmth. with a blindfold on, you depend on your other senses to map out what higuruma is trying to do.

"stay still," he commands.

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. you whine, toes wiggling and shifting your legs uncomfortably. your wrists are bound behind your back and you kneel on the hardwood floor of his office.

you're overly eager to please, like a young puppy who wants to learn how to roll, shake paw, and beg all at once. higuruma decided that you needed to be disciplined. a house built on sand is unstable, he said, but those who build upon the solid rock of the lord cannot be moved. you'll learn one trick at a time under his watchful eye.

"surely even you know the fruits of the spirit," he muses. his cold fingertips find your chin, tilting your head back. you let him guide you. "recite them."

then comes the press of his leather shoe between your legs. you stiffen, breath caught in your throat as your clit catches the tip of his shoe. pressure turns into pleasure and your hips tremble.

"l-love, joy, peace- hah- patience... kindness, goodness, fuh- f-faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control," you stammer, face growing warmer with each second. you have to bite down on your lower lip to stop a whimper from escaping you as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“o-oh-”

the stretch borders on pleasure and pain, and his mind blanks. he chokes on his breath, dropping his head between his shoulders.

“just halfway there, hiromi,” you murmur.

your cool palm presses on his burning back. higuruma instinctively arches his spine and presses the flesh of his rear into your hips, groaning when your strap pries him open even more.

“fah- fuck, fuck-!”

the noises that the man makes are far too lewd. there’s a growing warmth in your lower belly, fueled by the sight of the submissive male under you. he’s lean, the muscles in his shoulders twitching as he arches and grasps for purchases on the bedsheets. anything, to keep him grounded. you rub circles into his lower back with your thumbs. you’ve sunken all the way into his waiting hole, giving him a few moments to gather himself.

“is it too much, hiromi?” you ask, half in concern, half in earnest.

“no, fu- no, no. feels good. i took it all,” he pants.

his tongue lolls out of his mouth, spit gathering behind his cheeks. he can’t think of anything else but the pulsing between his legs and that spot you’re grazing inside of him.

“mm. you took it all like a good boy. you’re my good boy, aren’t you?"

“i- i…” higuruma stammers. “i am…”

“c’mon, ‘romi. say it for me.”

you pull out halfway slowly, then push back in as he gasps and makes incoherent noises of pleasure. his face is so hot he think his head might just explode. desire overcomes shame and his dry lips part, drool hanging from the tip of his tongue like dew.

“m-me. i’m good, your good boy. please? please, please, please make me feel good, miss- oh-!”

his brain short circuits when you thrust into him like you’re trying to break him, and breaks he does. the strength he normally has leaves him and his chest crumples into the bed. everything feels so good all at once - the way you’re driving your silicone strap into him, prying the deepest parts of him open, pushing yourself into the spot that makes him leak sticky globules of precum. his scalp is damp with sweat, and stray dark strands stick to the sides of his face. his eyes are half-lidded, on the verge of shutting completely.