fanfiction and shitposting

He shifts uncomfortably in a sorry attempt at hiding the tent in his shorts; he’s getting so hard, so fast that it borders on painful.

“What’s wrong, Jo?” you ask, feigning innocence before wrapping your lips around the popsicle again. “You alright?”

“No.” He leans over so his lips bump against the shell of your ear when he whispers: “I want your mouth on my cock like it is on that popsicle of yours.”

You shiver, lean away from him, and bite down. The eye contact you make with him is downright scandalous while you chew. And before you lose your brazen confidence, you grab him by the hand and haul him toward the house. A few other partygoers murmur curiously, but no one follows you.

You find the bathroom on the first floor and waste no time sinking to your knees in front of him. Togame groans and watches you with a tender sort of amusement, leaning comfortably against the door, should anyone decide it’s a good time to take a piss. He’s forgotten for a moment that you’re still holding half of your frozen treat, so when he sees you slot it between your lips again, he knows he’s in for a treat of his own.

“Fuck, baby…”  It’s crazy, you think. It’s crazy because you don’t usually enjoy giving him head, and he knows this is a rare thing, and he’s trying really hard not to cum too fast because he can hardly believe his luck in this moment. He’s totally and completely at your mercy, your pretty mouth taking him as deep as you can muster without triggering your gag reflex. One hand wraps around the base of his cock while the other holds tight to the wooden stick of your summer sweet. It’s melting fast, juice dripping down off your fingers and onto the floor. 

When you need a break, you release him from your mouth and loudly slurp at the rest of your treat. Togame laughs. Fucking adorable.

You discard the little wooden stick and lick him from base to tip, then slide him back into your mouth until you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe you are. And oddly enough, you think you might be enjoying yourself just as much as Togame. There’s a power that comes with having a man like him at your mercy. It makes you feel alive.

When he cums, he tries to pull back, unsure if you’ll want to take what he’s giving you. You deny him the space with a muffled mmn-hmm and grab his hips, holding him there while he has no choice but to let himself go. It takes you off guard and you do gag a little when it hits the back of your throat, but you relax and try to let it happen. It helps that he moans so sweetly and you can feel him trembling in your grasp.

“Baby,” he rasps, helping you to your feet. You wipe a tear from your eye and a little spit from your mouth and stand on wobbly legs. Togame crowds you against the bathroom sink and kisses you, one hand snaking up the front of your shirt to skim across your belly and grab a handful of breast. “That was so fucking sexy of you.”

You can’t help but giggle. It’s a giddy, bubbly feeling, though you’re so incredibly turned on at this point that you hope he returns the favor. “I know,” you gloat. You aren’t sure what came over you, truly. The heat, maybe. The way his hair curled against his skin in the humidity. The way he was leering at you through his sunglasses while you sat in your little folding lawn chair. Whatever it was, it was electric.

“What’s your favorite flavor, Jo?”