koby's #1 fan

You quietly hop off your bed and crouch beside him. His clothes are ruffled and his hair is thrashed around like a mess, both evident signs of a good night's sleep. But his breathing is somewhat uneven, his eyebrows are creased together, and he's forming a scowled look that should never come by when you're asleep. As you watch him, his fingers twitch and his lips part open.

Suddenly, he gasps.

You're taken aback. It was a soft light sound, something you would have missed if you weren't paying close attention, but the morning silence was on your side and you heard it perfectly. And what you heard almost sounded... sexual. Like your boyfriend is currently dreaming of something that he shouldn't be dreaming.

"Please... please do it."

You don't know what to make of the next few seconds. Before you know it, Koby lets out a few other sounds, ones inherently obscene, while his face contorts between expressions. As he does, you watch him intently, frozen and unknowing what to do.

When he moans your name softly, that's when you smile.

So he's thinking of you. Great. This is your first time witnessing him fidget while dreaming and it's not pure by any means. The soft sounds that pass through his lips prove just that. You wonder whether Koby thinks of you like this on the regular or he was just unluckily caught him in the middle of a wet dream, but whichever one it is, you're glad to have witnessed it.

With every passing second, his breathing becomes even more uneven. His face blushes pink. You look down at his torso, hot and stiff, until you see him printed on his pajamas.

"It's okay. You can give it to me anytime."

And just like that, you remember what happened last night. The urge to throw yourself at him for the first time bare naked still sits at the pit of your stomach. It's still there, and it's carnal, especially now that you're witnessing him wriggle on your floor to the thought of you.

You want to do it. Now, without holding back. It's easy for you to get yourself wet when you're in the presence of your boyfriend and his obvious morning wood, and the last time you offered to blow him out of pure sexual desire, he told you that anytime was okay. But you're rethinking your decision now, and is it really worth a shot?

Koby rolls on his back and you can see him even clearer. He's hard and poking through the fabric like he wants you to do it, like he's calling your name. And he literally does as he vocalizes another moan, more akin to a whimper, this time around.

Your name sounds good when he says it that way. It's breathless, it's airy, and it rolls off his tongue just right. You're tempted to bite the bait, just do what your heart says it wants to do, but your brain takes over and you shake your head. Frustratedly. Koby is a virgin and you aren't exactly a world expert at sex. He gave you permission, but you possibly can't blow him when you're fucking nervous. He's going to freak out, and chances are, you will, too.

So maybe you should give it time.

And you do, because you slip out of your room right after that, leaving Koby to wake up minutes later with a huge problem in his pants.

A week later, Koby is invited to Helmeppo's bougie birthday party, which ends up being hosted at a nightclub that his father owns.

"We own many clubs. This is one of the two in this city," he told Koby once, and the pink-haired man never forgot about it since then. Koby never went to clubs (he always found them overstimulating), and Helmeppo knew that. So when he showed signs of refusal, his best friend assured him with an arm slung across his shoulder that he could bring a plus one.

That leads to where you are now. You're in the best clubbing fit you can muster because Koby decided he can't do this thing alone. It's his first time going to one—"I don't blame you, there's a first for everything," you said to him—and if he was going to spend the night with someone other than his friends, it would be you. Also, having you there saves him the trouble of explaining his whereabouts. He knows for a fact that some girlfriends don't appreciate their boyfriends going out to wherever without a warning, and while you're not exactly like that, he'd rather let you know.

Since Helmeppo is the star of the night, he's busy entertaining the many guests he's invited over that he ends up leaving Koby alone with you. "Wouldn't want to interrupt your night anyway," he says to you both. The club has been sectioned off so that his guests stay at the balcony, but he gives you permission to wander as you please.

With that, you end up tugging Koby to the dance floor below. You tease him when the music transitions to a famous pop song, clenching his hands with yours and busting out a flirtatious twirl on your heel. Koby just watches, more amazed than ashamed that he doesn't dance as well as you do, until he's smiling like a dork because his heart is just full of you.

When you're back at the balcony, he's sipping on a strawberry mojito. Since he realized that he can drink whatever alcohol he likes without spending a dime, he ordered a drink with an ABV that he can tolerate. Thank you, Helmeppo.

"It's not as bad as I expected," says Koby through a long sip of his drink. Really, he's telling the truth. Everything in the area just seems so rich and bougie, like everyone who walks by knows that he doesn't belong there at all. So he was expecting much worse when he arrived, but it's been normal so far, which he's thankful for.

You sip on a cute mocktail you saw the bartender serving earlier. "Ditto. I don't go out either, but I was expecting worse. Just a bit overstimulating, though." Case in point, the DJ raises the volume of an EDM track he's mixing with a 2000's classic, and you wince at the sound.

Moments later, Hibari swings by with Grus and a guy you haven't seen before, his pink hair and glasses piquing your interest. Pointing a thumb behind her shoulder, she says to Koby, "It's Helmeppo. We got an emergency."

Koby glances at you. You let him wander off with the group as you proceed to the bar below after a few words of safety. When you squeeze past sweaty bodies and make it to the bar, you're welcomed by an unwanted guest.

"Hey, I'm Drake."

As soon as you sit down on a bar stool, you're greeted by a man a couple of years older than you. He has gelled red-brown hair and cerulean blue eyes and he dons a navy blue jacket with a pair of matching skinny jeans. He offers you his hand, but you stare at it blankly.

Mentally, you sigh. Clearly, you're about to be hit on, which you aren't in the mood for, but you don't want to be discourteous since you're Helmeppo's guest and it wouldn't reflect well on his family business if you start an altercation. So you suck it up and shake his hand while you patiently wait for your drink to arrive. "Drake", as he claims to be called, sits on the stool beside you and tries his luck to get into your pants.

"Could I get you something to drink?" he asks.

You look at him. You can't start a fight, but you can play nice. "You own the place?"

"Nah, just a regular. I know the place and the people, so I'm pretty sure you're new." A red buzzer sounds instantly in your head. He's a regular? No. Objectively not your type. "We have a tradition around here to buy newcomers a drink, so I think I should get you something nice."

Talk about alarming. You aren't the smartest person in the world, but you weren't born yesterday. This is the oldest trick in the book and you aren't liking it one bit. Where the heck is Koby?

Unconsciously, you look back up at the balcony where you should see your boyfriend with Helmeppo, but you see him cozying up with a blond girl in a ponytail. A blond girl who you know. Your eyebrows knit together.

Hibari?

Directing your attention back to Drake, you take a mental note of what you just saw and offer the guy across you a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks... but I'm good."

"Alright then," he says. Just when you think it's over, he hops off the stool, turns around, and leans his weight on the counter so that he's showing off his wide shoulders and height. "You from around here though?"

You groan internally. Forget about expecting worse—this experience by far is the worst. You don't go out often, but you didn't think nightclubbers were terrible at reading the room. You wonder just how spineless you look to these people.

"Nope, just traveling. Tourist," you lie through your teeth.

"Ah, cool, so do you—"

Suddenly, the bartender pushes an alcohol free mocktail toward your way. You heave a sigh of relief and plunge a metallic straw through your drink. Drake chuckles deeply, pushing his hands down his pockets.

"Guess you didn't it at all."

"Yep." As you take a long sip, you turn around and see Koby approaching the bar, his pink hair almost glowing like a halo from a distance. He's drowning in a sea of strangers, but his eyes are trained on you and only you. For a moment, what you saw at the balcony didn't matter. "Looks like my boyfriend's here, too."

"Boyfriend?" Drake mumbles under his breath. He looks at what—who—you're looking at and nods to himself bitterly. "Figures."

The moment Koby reaches you, his body is tensed. He immediately looks at Drake, but politely looks away and allows you to entangle his arm with yours.

"Enjoy the night," you tell the guy before you pull Koby into the dancing crowd, your hand over your open glass to avoid spillage. As you sway to the rhythm of the music, Koby leans close to you and snatches the glass from your hands.

"Who was that?" he asks. He tries to sneak another look at the guy, but he glances away the moment he realizes that he's still looking.

"Some guy who wanted to buy me a drink," you tell him.

Your boyfriend's face twists into panic. He looks down at the glass in his hands. "What?! He didn't actually buy you one, did he?"

You shake your head. "Of course not! I turned him down and watched the bartender make it." Koby exhales deeply. You embrace him. "Hey, I've been drinking mocktails all evening, so you can count on me to make sober decisions. I should be looking after you. Are you drunk?"

"I had a glass of mojito," he confesses.

"Are you tipsy?"

He shakes his head. "No. I couldn't taste the alcohol."

Elbowing him gently, you tease, "Manning up, I see. Never knew you could tolerate alcohol like that."

He laughs. "I don't. I just didn't drink much."

The night flies by quickly. Before you know it, the clock strikes two in the morning as reminded by your preset alarm going off in the effort to snap you back to reality. The club hasn't died down one bit, but Helmeppo and his friends have. Much of his guests have dispersed through the venue with the birthday boy himself snoozing away with a bottle of Jack on the VIP couches, while you and Koby are awake and sober next to him. When you show the first signs of restlessness, Koby takes the initiative to call the night over and leaves Helmeppo under Grus' trusty care.

The next thing you know, you're in a taxi en route to your apartment. Koby is beside you fighting off his exhaustion. The campus has closed thanks to its curfew policy, so he can't sneak back into his dorm even if he tries. Thankfully, you're there to help.

Back at your apartment, you're changing out of your clothes when Koby's phone rings. He looks away from you.

"Who's calling?" you ask.

"Helmeppo," he says. "Let me take it."

The caller turns out to be Hibari. She apparently lost her phone somewhere in the club and didn't realize it was missing until she was about to leave, so she fetched for Helmeppo's phone and contacted him. Koby helps her ring it a few times until she finds it stuck in between the sofa cushions a few minutes later.

"What was that about?" you chime from behind. Koby spins around to see you in just your bra and sweatpants. He instinctively looks away until he realizes that he doesn't need to.

"Hibari lost her phone so she called with Helmeppo's," he explains, but you don't look pleased. Flashbacks flicker through your head in an instant and you feel your suspicions bubble in your stomach. "Is there... something wrong?"

"Really?" Koby blinks. Uh oh. That doesn't sound good. "She called you?"

Koby is starting to get nervous. "H-Hibari?"

"She was snuggling up to you back at the club." Your eyes narrow at him. "Don't you remember?"

Instead of sweating profusely, Koby just stands there, confused. He doesn't remember Hibari doing that and as far as he knows, he was sober the whole night, so he couldn't have possibly snuggled with another girl fully conscious. But he also couldn't have noticed it, which might be a problem.

"I-I don't remember. I'm sorry," he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it makes you feel better, Hibari has a boyfriend so I know she wouldn't try anything on me."

Your eyes light up. "She does?"

Koby nods. He tells you that the boyfriend in question was at Helmeppo's party earlier that evening.

"Oh my god— no way. You're telling me her boyfriend was that guy? Pink hair and glasses?"

"Yeah. Forgot his name though. You might have mistaken him for me," he says. He thinks you're done getting jealous, but you still look perturbed. "Are... are you okay?"

"Well, I know it wasn't you who I saw with her, but I can't stop thinking of the fact that her boyfriend looks like my boyfriend."

Koby laughs.

"What?"

Hugging him tightly, you lean your head on his chest. "Her boyfriend has pink hair. Light pink, like yours. He wears glasses. Circular ones, like yours. Plus, he's around the same height as you. All he's lacking is your green bandana and he'd totally look like a discount version of you!"

Koby can't help but laugh. You have a point. He sees the resemblance between him and Hibari's boyfriend, but he wishes you aren't too mad about it. Hibari used to like him but he rejected her immediately. And while you aren't apprehensive about the thought of them sharing classes and hanging out with the same people, you still have your worries whenever she gets too close.

"She even called you just to look for her phone when there are, like, a hundred other strangers at the club who can help her look for it." You frown. "I want to bet that she still wants you."

Koby shakes his head. He rubs a comforting hand on your back, careful to avoid your bra strap. "I-I guess so, but I would run to you and only you. I never liked her anyway."

You look up at him. Koby looks down. You're fully leaning on him now, all your weight supported by his body.

"You only like me?"

"I only love you," he corrects. He ruffles your head, and just to solidify that thought, he leans down further to kiss you.

With that, you kiss him back. Koby responds to it quickly. His lips move in sync with yours as his eyes flutter close. The kiss is slow, sweet, and gentle, but as you keep it that way, he can't help but recall last week's events, the last time you kissed him at your apartment. When you were on top of him. When you were driving him crazy on your fourth month together. Now that you're in his arms again, he wonders what could've happened that night had your mother not interrupted, and if you could possibly continue where you both left off tonight.

You stay in his arms for a while until you're standing again and kissing back with more intention. When Koby doesn't expect it, you back him into a wall and flip your positions over so that he's got you cornered.

"I'm tired of just kissing you," you mumble in between his lips. "I want more of you."

Koby blushes furiously, his ears turning pink in a matter of seconds. He keeps kissing you through your whispered wishes, giving you all that he can. Then suddenly, he remembers that you're nothing but stripped of your top. Temptation takes over him in that moment and he sneaks a quick peek at your bra—it's still hooked, unfortunately, but he sees your breasts just enough to have his mind spiraling.

In the middle of his lustrous thoughts, however, you ask, "You aren't drunk, are you?"

"Huh?" he whispers. He kisses you again. "No. Just tired."

"Okay. Good." You encircle your arms around his neck. "Then"—you sigh deeply—"then you can feel me just the way you want, right?"

You latch your lips on his neck and you pepper his exposed skin with slow sensual kisses. Koby tenses, his lungs collapse, and suddenly, he's breathless. When your hands move to hold his, he understands what you want.

"Touch me, please," you ask him sweetly, "please do."

At your behest, his hands slither around your waist only for you to move them further down your backside. Koby does what you say and roams his hands around your hips, then your ass when you force his hands lower. His face erupts into flames, so he feels you through your sweatpants reluctantly as he tries to make sense of the situation. But you pull him closer, and he feels himself press on your lower stomach. Koby moans, quiet but loud enough for you to hear, and once he turns into a mess—your mess—his hands are moving on their own, squeezing and caressing your ass until you're satisfied.

Your hands trace his arms until you're sliding them down his torso. You press one hand on the hem of his pants, and when he doesn't object, you palm him confidently. He gasps. You trace his dick with a sole finger and he squirms further, reacting with a harder squeeze on your ass.

You kiss him up his neck, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and you wonder what he's thinking of. Somehow in some way, swiping Koby of his virginity is a pleasant thought, one that turns you on and drives you crazy. You want to see him begging for you and making pleasant noises in your ear all because he feels good and you feel good around him. It's a thought that you've always wanted to come true, and something tells you it's happening tonight.

You gently bite his earlobe. Koby gasps again, high-pitched and embarrassed, but he loves it. He's breathless and barely thinking when you whisper into his ear, "Do you want me around you?" like it's a normal question to ask. Yet he tries with all his might to process it correctly, so he ends up saying "Yes," in a desperately shaky tone.

"Touch me first then," you reply, which he initially doesn't understand until you take his hand and guide them down your stomach, past the string of your sweats, and into your underwear. You lead his cautious fingers around your pants and let him feel you up, touch your pussy through the fabric, until he's moving his fingers on his own.

His face is fully flushed now, but he's nothing but satisfied. He teases your folds through your underwear and feels the heat of your cunt on his fingers, then he boldly decides to think fuck it and sweeps your panties to the side. He coats his fingers with your slick—hot, wet, and smooth—and rubs your lips with them, spreading your folds wider so he can slip in later on. Koby thinks back to his wet dreams where he imagined doing this to you over and over again and wonders if he's doing a good job now. He wants to ask, but his voice betrays him because he's pathetically scared of it. Yet you notice his conflicted emotions, and eventually pulling him closer, you whisper, "You feel good, keep going," which gives him the assurance that he's been waiting for.

Koby twists his wrists inside you and teases you rhythmically until he rakes your sweats. "Bed," you whisper, and together, you make a beeline for your bedroom where you strip for him, tugging your sweatpants and panties down your legs and unclasping your bra. Koby watches you from the edge of the bed with lust, takes in the sight of your tits and growing wetness, and decides to get rid of his shirt. You pull him on top of you and spread your legs wide for him. Koby brings his fingers back to your pussy, this time with much access, and observes your wetness while he plays with you.

When you're wet enough, he pushes his middle finger in your pussy and it slides in smoothly. "Is this okay?"

"Add another one," you beg through a moan, "please."

It doesn't take much to listen to you. Koby slides his ring finger next, and with two of them inside you, he moves them around, first at a slow safe pace, then second at a faster rhythmic pace that coaxes a low moan out of you. Koby knows he's doing well when your hands begin to claw at his bare chest, red and hot with sex flush, so he decides to quicken the pump of his fingers.

With every push inside you, he watches your pussy blossom for him. You take him so nicely, so wetly, so smoothly and with ease. Koby wishes it's his dick and he twitches in his pants, but he ignores it because if he ponders on it, if he thinks too hard, he's going to cum without you even touching him. And that would simply take the fun away.

Watching you stain his fingers lures Koby to fuck you faster, and with every moan, you buck your hips into his hand. He experimentally presses his other hand down on your lower stomach, adds some pressure that you find out you love, and boldly dives into you. You yelp as his tongue meets your pussy and flicks rapidly through your folds, collecting your wetness and tasting you without shame. Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug on it with his every lick. Koby whines into you but he doesn't stop. Instead he continues to eat you out like he'd always desired, his noises muffled in between your legs.

Shifting around the bed, he lays down on his chest and leans back into you. When you're close, Koby moves his lips to your clit and sucks on it. You throw your head back onto your pillows at the contact, and almost immediately, your legs close around his head. As you ride his tongue, Koby keeps your legs open with a strong hand on your thigh, but you respond with the placement of a loving hand on his cheek.

"I love that thing that you do," you encourage him. He looks up with glossy eyes. "Do it again."

"You mean this?" He flicks his tongue again on your clit and you moan. Really loudly, really sexually, and it's salacious enough that has him wondering how good he's doing just for you. When you nod vigorously, Koby takes it as a sign to repeat it again and again, with his fingers still pushing themselves into you but deeper than before.

He's so lost into you. Koby believes that he can probably do this to you everyday because you're just so amazing. Without even noticing it, he grinds down on your bed. He lets friction do its thing with his clothed dick and rocks himself back and forth in your sheets. He ruins himself the more he thinks about you, and when you moan his name desperately—"Koby, Koby, ugh, please"—he cums hard in his pants, so hard that he's whining and clawing at your body like crazy.

You finish on his tongue a few moments later, but you ride out your high until you're breathing normally. Koby does so, too, with his hips coming to a stop on the sheets. You look down at him. When he moves, he winces at the disgusting wetness in his pants, but he's too filled with pleasure to even care.

He falls on his side. He no longer has the energy to lift himself up or do anything else, so when you crawl next to him, all he does is look at you with hooded eyes. You're still naked, your nipples perked up and your pussy dripping with his spit, and it does look like you want to do more, but your gaze softens at him and he melts.

Unexpectedly, you rake your hands through his hair, kind of like a soft apology for tugging on them too much, and kiss him. You taste yourself in his lips, but you don't care. Your love overpowers whatever disgust you have for the mix of fluids on your tongues, because in that moment, in the quiet seconds you both spend just panting aloud, Koby is all you see and all you care about.

"Thank you," he hears you mumble in his ear, "I enjoyed that."

And suddenly, he's blushing again. Koby is too tired to find out whether or not he said "you're welcome" or "I love you", but whichever it is, you respond to it with a cute kissable smile that doesn't leave your face until you're pulling him into the bathroom to get changed.

Koby spends ten sleepy minutes in the bathroom before dressing himself and flopping on your bed.

He tries his hardest to stay awake, but before he knows it, he falls asleep quickly.

The next day, Koby is sitting on your couch. He's on his phone, watching a series of Instagram Reels that he can't seem to put down, while you're making breakfast for two.

When he woke up that morning, he decided he would cook for you because he felt bad for dozing off while you showered. To his dismay, you woke up the moment he did and got to your kitchen first. After fighting over the pan for three solid minutes, Koby gave up and let you do your thing.

And because you're doing your thing, you don't want to be disturbed. With that, Koby scrolls through Instagram, observing you from his peripheral vision and only looking up when he gets bored.

You serve him breakfast some time later. When you call him, Koby tucks his phone in his back pocket and rounds your island to pick a fork from the drawer. You cooked him an easy meal, something he can finish to keep himself full during this slow morning. And because he's thankful, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

"How romantic," you tease. You drop the spatula on the counter and charge at him with a kiss, but he gasps. Dramatically.

"Oh?" You back away. "Did I just hear some gasping?"

"No," he denies quickly. But there it goes again, only this time it's much louder and... sexual. Very sexual. "Um... I don't know why I did— shit."

Your eyebrows raise. "Koby."

"I can explain— fuck."

All of a sudden, his lower body feels weak. His knees shake and buckle. Koby leans forward on the counter with one hand across his stomach to support himself, and when a wave of emotions course through his body again, his head falls forward.

You place a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes close. Whatever he's feeling, it's strange. It's weird. But he doesn't want it to stop, because whatever is making him feel that way, feels undeniably good.

When he opens his eyes, that's when he realizes... he wasn't awake the entire time.

He'd been dreaming it all.

And he knows he was dreaming because all of a sudden, you're giggling softly.

This time, you're not in your kitchen. You're not in his dream. But you're in real life.

Koby looks around the room. When he feels some weight on his legs, he looks down, and to his surprise, you're on your knees before him. You're straddling his legs and your back is arched sensually as your head is tilted to the side. When he looks past you, he realizes that you're in nothing but a shirt, your bare ass out in the open for him to see.

And your mouth... well, to put it simply, your mouth is on him. On his dick. On his painfully hard dick that you managed to pull out of his pants while he was comfortably asleep. And as you slick him up with your wet tongue, your hand plays with him in a teasing manner, one that drives Koby crazy.

You're giving him head. But Koby doesn't register it in his mind because he doesn't believe that this is real life, and what is more realistic to him is the dream he just had, where you cooked him a loving meal before he started moaning for no fucking reason. Even when he shakes himself awake and adjusts his eyes to the morning light filtering through the curtains, he doesn't believe it.

So through his shock he asks, "W-what— what are you doing?"

You flatten your tongue on his dick. He groans softly. When he reacts, you decide to run your tongue up his shaft before responding, "Giving you head." He doesn't blink, doesn't even move. But you pump him a few times and you have him wrapped around your finger. "Do you like it like that?"

"I-I— ngh." Koby decides that he's in hell's paradise because his temptations are getting the best of him. He wants to grab onto something, maybe your shoulders or your head, but he's rethinking his decisions. You giggle. No, this can't be real. "Is this real?"

"Very much so, baby," you say, and as if to prove a point, you take his tip in between your lips. Koby whimpers. Blood rushes to his dick, he feels himself stiffen, and he closes his eyes shut because damn, your mouth feels good.

"How long have you been awake for?" he asks.

"Just a few minutes ago. I know you were dreaming of me." Koby blushes. That confirms it. "You were hard in your sleep."

"Y-yeah, I was," he confesses, "but I didn't—hah, shit—I didn't know you wake up early like this."

You giggle. "I mean"—you take his cock in for a few seconds before releasing him—"you were more exhausted than I was last night."

He nods weakly. Right. Last night. Last night when he first fucked you with his fingers for the first time before falling asleep like a baby. He should be ashamed for being more tired than you were, but his heart was about to leap out of his chest and he was too overwhelmed then. "O-kay."

"I figured I should give you a real orgasm to pay you back. And, you know, take care of you during a hard morning," you say with a grin on your lips. Koby watches you devilishly hit your face with his dick like the videos he's watched and imagined you two mimicking. His head falls back on the pillow. "Will you let me do that now, baby?"

As expected, he weakly nods and lets you. Koby relaxes his body on your bed, leaving his sleepy mind to deal with you and see where it goes from there. With his approval, you pull off his shorts before taking him in again. This time, you go deeper, allowing him to sink in your throat until you've taken all of him. Koby watches you through heavy eyelids, and when you bob your head up and down, he whines.

On the other hand, you're thrilled. Waking your boyfriend up like this was something you had been planning since you caught him in the middle of a wet dream. You knew that Koby wouldn't wake even if you slid on top of him because he was evidently tired from last night, so you did just that, undressing him with your teeth and pumping him in your fist as soon as you see his cock poking through his pants.

As you work on his dick, you find out that he likes to be stroked and played with. You start with his balls, just fondling them with your hands. He rocks his hips into you until he creates a rhythm that he loves. Holding him again, you watch him fuck himself in your hand, just sliding between your fist like he belongs there, and when your mouth drools salaciously, you suck on his tip to lick the drops of pre-cum that leak out of him.

He's leaking too much by the time you move your head at a faster pace. Koby's eyes shut close in response to the ecstasy, and when he's being too loud, he brings an arm to cover his face. He can feel himself getting close, evident by his tensed muscles under his shirt, but he tries not to cum because he doesn't want your mouth off of him just yet—this is the best his cock had ever felt, and your mouth is far more effective than his hand. He doesn't want you gone there. He wants you on him forever.

But before he cums, you stop. Koby loses the string of dirty memories and his muscles loosen at the snap of a finger. He whines beautifully in your ear and raises his hips instinctively toward your mouth again, but you throw an unopened condom packet on his stomach.

"I want you to cum in me," you say as you shift around the bed, crawling seductively up his torso. Koby is alarmed by your request, but he picks up the condom, tears it quickly, and decides that, yeah, he can most certainly cum inside you... as long as you account for protection, of course. Which technically means that he won't be finishing raw, but he guesses you like that dirty talk, like to pretend that it's real until he can actually cum inside you one day.

Koby reaches for his cock with the open condom packet in the other hand, but he feels jittery all of a sudden. He's about to lose his virginity after a night of fingering you for the first time. That's fucking amazing, if he says so himself. But he doesn't like where this is going because he woke up just six minutes ago and he hasn't done anything to you yet. Something needs to be done.

"I want to... I want to eat you out," he suggests nervously, which is fair for a guy who hasn't done it before. You rake your fingers through your hair as if to think. When you fall to his side, Koby gets his go signal.

"Come eat me out then," you challenge, spreading your legs the same way you did last night. You feel a slight ache from your sore muscles, but they're anything but displeasure.

Anxiously, Koby slithers in between your legs and places his hands on the back of your knees. Just like last night, you're wet, if not wetter than before. Koby glances at you, and when he sees your smile of approval, he dives into your pussy like a man starved, licking you up desperately and tasting you through your pulsing hole.

His clothes are off the next moment. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he brings his fingers to your legs. He pulls back, kisses the inside of your thighs, then uses his fingers to knead you in a circular motion. He pumps one finger, two fingers, and when you ooze for him, he licks you clean.

Koby has his way with you until his cock is hard and red again and practically begging for release. But he contains it, doesn't want to ruin the moment, because he's more concerned about making you feel good. He continues with his ministrations on your pussy until your legs begin to quiver around him, and when you're shrieking from the wave of pleasure, Koby pulls back to watch you make a mess on the bed.

Your wetness drips from the hole where his fingers were just in, but you recover quickly. You crawl toward Koby, pump him a few times, and watch him leak.

"You're hard again," you point out. Koby watches your hand on him and tries not to cum right then and there.

"Yeah— um, I-I kinda want to... you know."

"Fuck me already?" you finish with a giggle. He sighs.

"Yes," he agrees obediently. "I want to fuck you."

"Mm-hmm. Me too." Still holding onto him, you reach for the abandoned condom on the bed. You unravel the rubber and roll it down his dick, not before swiping the opportunity to throat him down beforehand. "You ready?"

Koby pats your head comfortingly. "If you are."

As you fall back on the bed, you pull Koby with you. He's hovering on top of you with one hand on his dick and the other to support himself. He brings his dick to your legs, realizes that he's about to actually fuck you, and gulps hard before pushing himself in.

He shakes. You encircle his neck. "It's okay, baby, just put in," you encourage, which drives him to push himself in you deeper, although slowly like he's afraid of hurting you.

He's deep inside you before you know it, taking deep breaths because you're wet and tight around him and he doesn't know how to properly act. But Koby decides to wait for you to adjust before he thrusts himself inside and out, from which he gradually picks up the pace until it's enjoyable.

Eventually, he feels the need to cum again. His head falls forward and he presses his body against yours. Your legs envelop his waist. His hands come up to your hair and gives it a nice gentle tug with every thrust that excites him, then when he can't handle it anymore, he laces his fingers with yours. You feel your stomach knot, but in the attempt to delay it, you clash your lips with Koby's and whine into his drooling mouth.

He slows down, but he rocks his hips into you, which you meet with your own thrusts. You hum at the sound of skin on skin and let your free hand grip his bicep. When he pulls away, you turn on your side and raise one leg for him, which he gladly keeps in the air as he continues thrusting with more access.

Koby keeps his hands busy while he fucks himself inside you. He leans forward so that you're basically splitting, and with heavy breaths, he fondles your tits. He squeezes them when he hits a spot, but strokes them to your liking otherwise. Your hands grip his as he does so, like you're guiding him while he plays with you, and direct him to your sensitive nipples.

Soon enough, he's lapping on your breasts and sucking your nipples dry. Moaning into your hand, you grind down on his dick until the pressure builds at the pit of your stomach. You claw at Koby's chest to chase your orgasm, but he does the unthinkable and flips you on your hands and knees, and continues to piston into you from behind.

He pulls your hair from the back, earning a sensitive, "oh— ohhh, Koby—" that riles him up more than ever. When he hears you mewl his name far too many times, he knows that you—and he—are about to snap, which doesn't take long because he's hitting your g-spot so good.

He milks himself dry inside you moments later, his eyes shutting close as he cums harder than ever before. You follow him soon afterward, your ass meeting his slowed thrusts, until your breathing calms and you fall to the bed in front of you.

Looking over your shoulder, you observe your boyfriend intently. He's tired, his whole face is flushed, and he's shaking if you look close enough. You prop yourself up on weak hands just as he ties off the condom. He shoots it in the trash can by your desk and meets you at the edge of your bed.

"Hm?" he mumbles. You smirk.

"Sleepyhead." He pouts.

Collapsing on the space beside you, he says, "That was tiring, okay?"

You lean against him. "I know, but you made it fun for something considered as your first. Thank you."

Koby melts when you snuggle beside him and place your head right where his heart beats. You poke fun at him a little more after that, bringing up his cute whines and dirty wet dreams, before you spend some minutes in comfortable silence.

Koby is going to need at least a week to process everything that happened this morning, but he doesn't mind it. As long as it's you that he's thinking of, he wouldn't have any complaints at all.

-

OKAY THAT'S THE END OF IT!! i have yet to proofread a second time but i'm very glad that this is done because i have 30 other drafts waiting to be finished and i can officially say that i contributed to the koby fandom with pure fucking filth :D