cw⌇ oral f.receiving ◞ fingering
Nagi had never gone down on a girl before. He’d seen porn, sure, heard locker room stories, some good, some awful. The kind that made it sound like a gamble, too strong, too bitter, too wet, too weird. He never really understood the appeal. Seemed like effort, and effort wasn’t exactly his thing.
But this was different. You were different.
You were lying beneath him on his bed, bathed in soft moonlight, your shirt already pushed up, panties damp and clinging to your heat. Your thighs were spread just enough for him to fit between them, one of your hands buried in his messy hair, the other curled around his wrist.
“Are you sure?” you whispered, breathless.
Nagi blinked slowly, pupils blown wide. “Yeah,” he said, rougher than usual. “Wanna taste you.”
He didn’t sound cocky, rather curious and hungry. He kissed down your stomach, dragging his lazy tongue across your skin, hands settling on your hips like he needed something to ground him.
When he reached the waistband of your panties, he paused. With both hands, he tugged them down slowly. His breath hitched. You were already wet, glistening, flushed, and so warm he could feel the heat radiating off you before his mouth even touched you. And the smell wasn’t like he expected.
Not strong or weird or off-putting. It was sweet. Yeah, sweet and soft, and addictive. It made his head feel fuzzy.
He leaned closer, burying his face between your thighs with a curiosity that felt like compulsion. The first lick was tentative. One slow drag of his tongue from your dripping entrance up to your clit.
He stopped and froze. Then groaned. A real, guttural, needy sound from deep in his chest, like something inside him had just snapped.
He pulled back slightly, wide eyes blinking up at you like he was in a trance. “You taste…” he murmured. “Holy shit.”
Then he dove back in. Gone was the lazy hesitation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders, spreading you wider as he licked you with long, hungry strokes, tongue swirling around your clit like he needed to memorize every inch of you.
Every lick was messier, deeper, filthier. He slurped noisily, moaning against your pussy as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked just right. Your back arched.
“S-Sei—” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair.
He didn’t stop, or slowed down. His hips were grinding into the mattress, because he couldn’t take it either. Your thighs started to tremble, your moans coming quicker as his tongue moved faster, more confident with every second. He was fucking you with it now, licking into your core like a man starved, like he’d been missing this his whole life and had no idea.
You came on his tongue with a loud cry, your body shaking beneath him, and he didn’t let go. Not even for a second.
He kept going. Lapping up everything you gave him, groaning like he was drunk on your taste, like this was the greatest thing he’d ever experienced.
“Shit,” he whispered, pulling back, long enough to look up at you. His chin was slick, his hair wild, eyes glazed over. “You’re fuckin’ delicious. Can’t stop.”
You whimpered. He slid two fingers into you, and curled them just right as his mouth latched back onto your clit. You nearly screamed. Your hand flew over your mouth as your hips jerked against his face, but nagi didn’t stop. He moaned into you again, tongue flicking hard now, fingers fucking you deep and steady like he’d done this a hundred times. Like he was born to do this.
“You’re gonna come again,” he murmured into your folds, lips brushing your swollen clit. “C’mon, baby. Let me taste it.”
Your orgasm hit even harder this time. You cried out, hips lifting off the bed, thighs squeezing his head as he kept licking, sucking, working you through every wave until your body went limp beneath him.
Only then he slowed down he kissed your inner thigh gently - one, two, three times - before resting his cheek against it, eyes closing.
“Think I’m obsessed now,” he mumbled, smiling lazily against your skin.
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