septembersummer

He wants to see you, but he’s most excited about what you’ll do to him tonight. The last time he misbehaved like this, you put him on the floor and nearly crushed his head under your heel. He hears the sound of your heels, and he lifts up his head to watch as you get on the bed. Knee on either side of him. 

“And so pathetic too.” You add, your hand wrapping around his cock. Your thumb goes over the slit, spreading the pre-cum. Your hand slowly strokes his cock while your head goes down, your mouth wrapping around his nipple. Your tongue circles around his nipple before your teeth lightly bite down.

You lift your head up and look at him. It earns no reaction from him because he’s used to that bit of pain whenever you bite his nipple. He enjoys it, but it barely brings a reaction out of him anymore. Your finger begins to play with his nipple, circling it and pinching it, while your head lowers, bringing your lips up to his ear.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask him, before a low chuckle leaves your lips. You look at him, “Aw you can’t. You poor insignificant thing.”

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it back, his head burying itself deeper into the mattress. You bring your lips together and spit on his forehead before letting go of his hair. A smirk comes onto your lips, knowing he can’t do anything to wipe off your spit. Your nails trace the apple of his cheeks, your nails so sharp that any fast move could cut his skin. You don’t want to cut his skin just yet. 

Your palm strikes against his cheek, also hitting the strap of the ballgag. His cheek turns red, the imprint of your hand very visible. While finding out the masochistic side of Toji, you discovered the sadistic side of yourself, “You want me to suck your pathetic little dick?”

“Ah, that’s right.” You chuckle. “You can’t speak.”

You kiss down his body until you get to his dick. Your hand wraps around his cock and you slowly stroke it. Your lips kissing the tip, and kissing down to the base then his balls.  You suck on his balls before you continue kissing down.

“Spread your legs, idiot.” You tell him as you forcefully spread his legs. Your lips continue kissing down until they get to his asshole. Your tongue circles his hole, while one hand begins to jerk off his cock. Your tongue threatens to enter his hole, and you hear his muffled moans.

Your tongue enters his hole, which is nearly enough to make him come right there and then. Your tongue moves in and out his hole, your hand still jerking him off. You take your tongue out and kiss his asshole. Your head rises and you look at Toji, who slightly lifts his head to watch the sight of you as you jerk him off. 

“You like that, dirty boy?” You ask, a chuckle leaving your lips immediately. Your tongue begins to circle around the tip of his dick before you wrap your mouth around it. Your mouth manages to take everything in.

You bob your head, pride striking you as you hear the muffled moans that come from Toji.  You look up at him, and he’s trying his best to watch as you take all of his cock in your mouth. You love the sight.

The speed of your bobbing increases until you get bored and let go of his cock. Your hand begins to jerk him off while your head goes up, your mouth wrapping around his nipple again. Your tongue circles around it before you bite down again. You hear a muffled cry.

But you’re also hearing the moaning increase, which makes you stop jerking him off. Your lips go up to his cheek and you kiss it, kissing a bit of the ball gag strap. “You wanna come, pretty boy?”

“Too bad.” You kiss his cheek again before you push your panties to the side. You grab his cock and align it with your entrance before slowly pushing yourself down on his cock. But you don’t move. Your nails dig into his chest while you look down at him, smirking as you squint your eyes.

It’s enough for some blood to come out. You watch his eyes get teary, “Is it too much for you, filthy slut?”

He shakes his head.  You take your nails out and firmly use his chest to support yourself as you begin to ride him. You bite your tongue, not letting him know how you feel as you ride him. But of course he knows.

“So fucking pathetic.” You comment as you move. You close your eyes, taking everything in. You wish you could hear his moans loud and clear, but you’re also enjoying how pathetic and submissive Toji looks while gagged. “Barely can please me.”

You can’t believe your own lies, holding back and fighting the pleasure he gives you. But if you praised him, he wouldn’t be so turned on. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, coming to a stop for a couple of seconds before returning your movements.

Your cunt squeezing around him, yet you keep mumbling about how pathetic he is. All your words driving him to the edge. “So- fucking worthless.”

“Oh-” You finally moan when his cum fills you up. Like always, there’s so much. You click your tongue, still riding him to reach your orgasm. “You’re so filthy…”

Now you’re straddling him, your back on his chest while his hand is on your throat, making sure your eyes are on the mirror that is across your bed. He’ll give up the beautiful sight he’s used to, just to make sure you see it too. That beauty has to be appreciated and shared, he’s selfish and wants the view just for himself. He wants it to be a view that only he’ll get to see, but he has to at least share it with you. How selfish would it be for him to keep your own beauty from yourself?

“You see how beautiful you look now?” He asks and you hum in response. He lets go of your throat and his hand goes down to squeeze your tits. He pinches your nipple, while his lips go up to your ear, “Now, are you going to start? You know, this isn’t all we do when we have sex.”

“I know…” You respond while you slightly lift yourself to align your entrance with his cock. You slowly push yourself down, a groan leaving the back of your throat. You take a couple of seconds to adjust to his length while his hands continue playing with your nipples.

He looks in the mirror and notices how your eyes aren’t fully open. His hand lightly taps your cheek as you begin to move. “Look at yourself, baby. Watch as you take my cock.”

“Kento-” His name leaves your lips as you open up your eyes and look at yourself in the mirror. You watch yourself, how you and Kento connect. His hands are on your hips slightly helping you move. 

Your eyes go to his face in the mirror. He bites his bottom lip, trying his best to not be loud while your cunt sucks his cock in. He’s looking at the mirror, admiring the beautiful view that was taken away from him.

“Do you see why I like you on top?” He asks but you stay quiet. You’re moaning as you take his cock. His dick just hits all the right spots. His hand goes up and his hand squishes your cheeks. “Answer me, baby.”

“Uh… Yeah.” You answer mindlessly. You’re mostly focusing on moving, your eyes glancing at the mirror but not really admiring the view that he adores so much. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, and his eyes go straight down in the mirror.

He watches you play with your clit, something he loves seeing you so much. It still looks so hot in the mirror, he doesn’t know why he thought it’d change anything. Your tits still look the same as they bounce, and your pussy still feels the same. You still have the same beautiful face.

Something he doesn’t appreciate is that you aren’t really appreciating the view. He lightly taps your cheek again, but that isn’t enough. His hand goes to your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze, he just holds your throat. “Look how good you look while my dick is inside you and you’re on top of me.”

“Fuck-” Your eyes go down again and you once again watch as your cunt wraps around his cock. You watch as you play with your clit. Then your eyes look at your body with every bounce, and then your eyes land on your face… Maybe you understand. “Oh, Kento!”

He begins to thrust his hips, his cock moving rapidly in and out of your cunt and now your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. You get louder and louder with his every thrust, his name rolling off your tongue and it sounds majestic. He smirks as he looks at the mirror, loving the look on your face.

It’s always the same expression. And he loves it every time. “Oh, baby, look at your face as you take my cock. You look so beautiful.”

You look at how fast his cock moves in and out of you. Your tits now bounce so much faster than before. Your cunt is squeezing around his cock as your climax approaches. His name keeps rolling off your tongue.

“Oh, I’m gonna come!” You yell, your eyes glued to the mirror. Kento’s lips are parted, letting his groans out into the air while your cunt squeezes around him. You clench around him. You’re making that face that he loves when you’re so close to finishing. You take a look at your face for a split second before your eyes go back to your cunt.

You see white as you reach your climax. Kento keeps thrusting in and out of you, chasing after his release. He groans as he looks in the mirror, looking at your face, still moaning his name while he keeps thrusting in and out of you. He likes it better when your face is facing him, but he still appreciates the view that the mirror offers. 

“Fuck- Baby.” He moans as he comes inside you. He makes sure every drop of his cum is inside you before he pulls out.

Immediately, both your eyes look at your cunt, and watch as his cum oozes out. You usually don’t look, instead you quickly stand up to clean up. You hear a chuckle before he speaks up,

“See, that’s the best part.”

It happened about a year ago, when your two social circles somehow intertwined and your paths crossed for the first time. You're about to graduate university with honors, he's rumored to be in the Yakuza or some other gang's equivalent.

Needless to say, you don't have much in common. You have your books and your pacisfistic nature. He has his guns, drugs, and piercings in places that you wouldn't dare ask about.

You know everything that's scary, dangerous, and threatening about Sukuna Ryoumen.

You also know that you are so fucking attracted to him that you find it hard to breathe when he's occupying the same space as you.

The attraction began the night that you met, when you were standing near the wall at the entrance of a house party that you weren't super interested in, and someone bumped into you hard.

Hard enough to almost knock you to the ground, if it weren't for pink-haired, devilish grin-wearing Sukuna, whose hands wrapped around your forearms tightly, yanking you back upright.

He towered over you, made you feel like you were shrinking into the ground as he glared down at you. Absolutely fucking terrifying, like he could've been a four-armed monster in a past life.

"Watch yourself," he growled, voice low, deep, and arousing.

He winked at you before heading back into the party and ignoring you for the rest of the evening.

That was the first time you saw him get into a fight. And by sheer coincidence, he just so happened to pummel the living fuck out of none other than the guy who bumped into you.

You've gone to more parties ever since, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Sukuna never pays you much attention, though. Sometimes he'll catch you staring, and his lips will curve up into this salacious, man-eating smirk.

Other times, he'll purposefully move around you a little too closely, splaying his big hand out across your lower back, murmuring "excuse me, sweetheart," right across the shell of your ear. It never fails to give you goosebumps.

One time, you swear that he pulled your hair when he was walking past you. Just a gentle tug, before turning back to look you up and down, snickering to himself at your surprised face.

You've never gotten up the courage to try to talk to him on your own. Tonight is the exception. You're about to graduate, this might be one of the last times you have a good excuse to be at one of these parties.

"You're really gonna do it?" Manami asks, chuckling at you as you order another shot from the bar.

"I think so," you reply unsurely, "can you make that a double?"

"You're brave for trying to hook up with the King," she says, using the nickname you've heard float around for Sukuna, "you think he really has his dick pierced?"

The bartender gives you your double shot of tequila, you look over at Manami, trying not to laugh as you pick it up, "God, I hope so."

She clinks her glass with yours, and you throw back the shot, grimacing and shaking your hands up and down at the burn of hard liquor in the back of your throat.

He's smoking alone outside when you find him, taking a deep drag of his cigarette as his eyes flicker to the side, meeting yours. His gaze alone nearly startles you, making you want to stop in your tracks, but you don't.

"You finally got up the nerve to talk to me?" He asks arrogantly, glaring off toward the other side of the road.

"I--yeah, I guess so," you stammer, feeling your face get much hotter, much quicker, "I guess we haven't really talked much before, I'm--"

He says your name to you, before giving you a sidelong smirk. It seems like he's had his eye on you for a while, too.

"You can cut the bullshit," he offers rather rudely, "what do you want from me?"

You didn't anticipate that it would move this quickly, or that he'd be so bold. Your nerve is evaporating-- you should've taken another shot before you came out here.

"Just, uh, to see if you wanted to talk, or something," you blurt out, and then you start nervously rambling about how you've always seen him around, how the two of you have never spoken much, and other things that never crossed your mind before he started questioning you.

Sukuna sees you exactly as you are. A cute little ray of sunshine that can't seem to stay away from the shadows. A nervous thing in a short dress that really needs a dick in her mouth to stop her from rambling and avoiding the topic that she came here to breach.

Nice legs and pretty tits, an innocent-seeming face, a sweet smile. You look breakable, you look so soft and so fuckable. He's been teasing you for months, but he doesn't like making the first move with girls like you.

Girls like you trigger this odd, protective instinct in him. Protective turns into possessive easily when you're someone like Sukuna. He didn't want to come to you.

He wanted you to come to him, just like this. Talking about anything other than how badly you want his dick down your throat.

"So, I just thought--"

He cuts you off, "You ever been tied up before?"

Your eyes widen, your mouth falls slightly agape, and then you bite your glossy lip at him, flushed from either the cold or from his question.

"No, I haven't," you answer honestly, as your eyes fill up with the eager hope that he'll keep going, that he'll cut the small talk short and force you into the fucking that you actually wanted.

"Would you like to be?"

A nod of your head leads you back to Sukuna's apartment, it leads you into his bedroom, out of your clothes and waiting patiently, as he ties your arms above your head. They're secured to his headboard, wrapped tightly there with one wrist crossed over the other.

It's all anticipation and desire for you. The music he's playing softly in the background, the feeling of his hands softly brushing your skin without ever really touching you.

He skims his fingertips over your breasts, over your hardened nipples, as he secures a red rope between them and around your waist. Despite all of his dangerous habits, his terrifying tastes, you feel safe and secure when he's restraining you here in his bed.

He wouldn't be doing this unless you wanted him to, and god knows you do want him to. After finishing your legs, which are tied bent together at your waist, spread apart, he sits back on his heels, admiring his work.

Your toes curl, and you feel yourself blushing at his lustful gaze roaming over every dip and valley of your naked body. Naked and bared to him, and he hasn't even kissed you yet.

He's been methodical, cool, and calculated since he got you home. Sukuna has yet to lose his composure, because he knows that there will be no getting it back once he does.

And he likes you, he likes you enough to make sure that you're comfortable and secure before he fucks up your perception of sex and aggression. He hopes that he fucks up your perception of men, of all people other than him.

The possessive part of him is already clawing at his insides, threatening to come out every time his cock jumps in his sweats at the sight of you like this.

"How do I look... like this?" You ask, desperate to hear every depraved thought that he has for you.

He crawls overtop of you, tugging on the restraints that hold your wrists to see that they hold. When they do, because he knows what he's doing, he leans down onto you, until his face is level with yours.

"Helpless," he whispers against your lips, not kissing you but just teasing you with the idea of it, "like I could do anything I wanted to you, and there's nothing you could do to stop me."

"Please," you murmur, reaching for him with what little you can move.

Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted. When he moves away, you chase him, you try to fill the gap yourself and kiss him first. You need the intimacy of it when you're just as helpless as you look.

Sukuna denies you, because it's not your turn to be rewarded yet. You've done nothing to earn it. You need to earn his softness, just like you need to earn his cock.

"What's your safe word?" He asks, kneeling between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to take a closer look.

You tug against the leg restraints once, feeling the primal urge to close your legs when there's a dangerous man spreading your cunt with his fingers to just look at it.

"Will I-- ah--" you hiss, as his thumb smoothes over your clit once teasingly, "will I need one?"

Sukuna looks up at you like you're fucking stupid.

For some reason, it makes you wetter.

"Look at yourself right now. What do you fuckin' think?" He asks condescendingly, losing his sense of self-control inch by inch tonight. He presses down on your clit once, hard, and you jolt.

"Fuck, uhh-- tequila," you ramble off. Tequila got you here, after all, it might as well get you out of here, too.

Sukuna chuckles wryly, rewarding you for coming up with something by massaging your clit in gentle circles. You keen, rolling your hips to match his pace as much as you can, given your state of restraint.

"You get wet so easily," he murmurs, transfixed on the sight of your pussy, "do you cum easily?"

"I-- I don't know," you stutter, because trying to answer him in full sentences when he's giving your clit so much delicate attention is near impossible.

That, and you truly aren't certain of the answer. When you're alone, yes, but with other men... you haven't had that much luck.

You knew he'd be different, and you were so right, given that even with the lightest touches-- he has your pussy glisteningly wet, your stomach filled with butterflies that keep tightening and coiling around one another.

"What a pathetic answer," he murmurs, sliding a finger into your pussy and massaging the insides of your walls. His eyes snap up to meet yours when you shiver, whining and desperate for more already.

"Mm, you're sensitive, aren't you? I knew you'd have a greedy pussy when I first saw you," he rasps, looking right at you as he hones in on your g-spot with two fingers, "been thinking about having you just like this since that ugly motherfucker bumped into you the first night."

Your eyes widen, his fingers speed up. Steadily, the room is filled with the wet, pulsing sounds of his digits pumping in and out of your slick cunt.

"I thought about you, too--ah--" you moan, whining through your words as he pumps faster when you try to talk, teasing you.

He bites his lower lip between sharp teeth, sucking on them as he looks at you lustfully, "Yeah? Were you playing with this pretty pussy thinking about me?"

"Yes-- fuck--" you admit it.

Faster. He's rewarding you.

"Cumming for me before you were even mine, yeah? Show me how, bitch. Let me fuckin' see it."

Your moans raise in pitch in short, staccato bursts, as he tips you over the edge and lets you fucking fall off of it. Your toes curl, and your legs spasm, you grit your teeth and moan and wish you could move parts of your body, but you can't.

When pleasure fades into overstimulation, you want to close your legs around his wrist, but you can't. His smirk turns into a devious one, a feral one, as he watches you writhe and struggle to take what he's giving you.

"No, no--nononono, wait," you hiss, throwing your head back as he fingerfucks you through hell and back, "it's too much-- 's too much."

"Use the safeword if you mean it," he demands, testing your limits.

You look up at him, breathing heavily with furrowed brows of pain and pleasure, desire and agony, "No."

"That's my fuckin' girl," he growls, before leaning down to give you his tongue.

His tongue is pierced twice vertically-- it hurts like hell when he's overstimulating you with it, but it feels like heaven once the aftershocks where off and he's lapping at your clit with the metal balls.

You want to run your fingers through his hair, you want to hold his head down against your cunt as hard as it can go until he makes you cum again, you don't care if he suffocates. He's tonguefucking you with the precision of a god, you're crying his name and cumming on his tongue.

And then you want to close your legs as hard as you can and rip his hair out trying to make him stop as soon as the aftershocks fade. You cry out how sensitive you are, how it's too much, how you can't take it, but you never utter the safeword.

Pleasure to pain to pleasure to pain to pleasure, back and forth incessantly for an amount of time that you couldn't begin to quantify if you tried. He's turning your mind into a slurry of feelings and nerve-endings, yes's and no's.

Sukuna only stops when his face is covered in a red flush that extends down to his chest, and his dick is so hard against his abdomen that he isn't even sure if he's about to cum untouched or he already has.

There's something about the way that you look tied up in his bed, begging him for more, begging him to stop, that drives him fucking crazy. Your pussy is slick with spit and cum when he kneels back on his heels, and his face must look quite the same.

You look a wreck, with your pretty tits upheld by ropes, and your mascara running down your cheeks. You're teary-eyed, flushed with adrenaline and desire and lust.

"Fuck it," he groans, freeing himself of his fucking pants that are stopping him from being inside of you right now, "I'm gonna fuck you now-- gonna fuck you hard, okay?"

You have a glazed-over, sated look in your eye. He taps your cheek with the palm of his hand to make sure you're still with him. Like it's instinct, you nuzzle against the palm of the hand that just slapped you, smearing your own juices onto your face.

But what really wakes you up from your orgasm-induced haze is the sight of his cock. It's bigger than you imagined, harder too, with a leaky, red tip.

And you were so fucking right to come here, because it's pierced. Two sets of round, studs along the underside of his shaft, just to give extra friction when he fucks you.

"Please, Sukuna-- fuck me," you whimper, kissing his hand as he slips his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck on them eagerly while he lines his cock up with your entrance.

"You look so fucking filthy and depraved right now," he hisses, as his tip sinks into your pussy so smoothly that his eyes roll back, and his jaw tightens in pleasure.

"So fucking filthy."

Thrust. God, you can feel the piercings inside of you, and they feel good.

"Tied up like you're nothing more than a hole for me to fuck, baby. Like you're not good for anything other than this-- fucking-- god, you're tight."

He thrusts as deeply as he can go, all the way inside of you, shivering at the warmth of your cunt enveloping his long cock. He looks down, sees your cunt taking every inch of him with such ease that it's heavenly, incredible, so fucking good.

Sukuna loses all composure, he does something that he never does with girls that he fucks, and he leans down to kiss you. He pinches and rolls one of your nipples between his fingertips, cradles your head in his hand with the other.

He doesn't like to kiss during sex, its too intimate.

His tongue is down your throat.

He likes degrading far more than he likes praising.

"You're taking me so fucking well-- so fucking tight-- s'fucking good-- take my fucking cock, baby, take it just like that."

He doesn't catch feelings.

But when you give him a half-lidded, hazy stare right into his eyes when you cum, he thinks there are few things in the world that he wouldn't do for you at that moment.

Clear fluid gushes from your cunt onto his abs, and he realizes that there's nothing he wouldn't do for you at this moment. He already beat someone up for you, why not kill them?

"S'kuna," you whimper, leaning towards him to capture his lips in another kiss.

"Again," he murmurs, staring into your eyes intently, "say it again."

"Sukuna," your breaths speed up, your moans turn breathy and gaspy, "S--ku--na--ahh--"

He realizes it sounds so distorted because he's fucking you hard enough to break the mattress every time you moan his name. Tears stream down your cheeks, Sukuna spits into your mouth, and you fucking swallow like a good fucking girl.

You're his good fucking girl.

It's the thought of making you his, of really making sure that you belong to him, that finally fucking drives him over the edge. Killing any man that gets in between the two of you, fucking you wildly like this every night, keeping you like a fucking pet-- all to himself.

That's what makes him have to pull out abruptly, that's what makes him decide to cover your pussy in cum instead of aiming somewhere safer. He holds your thigh with one hand, stroking himself with the other, glazing your slippery pussy in white.

A long, relieved groan escapes his lips, as he slides the tip back and forth through the mess he's made of your cunt, spreading it around and even daring to push a tiny bit of it inside you.

And even though he's feeling disconcerted with all of the thoughts you just dragged out of him, he still unties you gently and leisurely, cleans you up himself, and then joins you in bed.

No, of course he didn't mean it when he said he'd make you his. He doesn't fucking do that. One thing that everyone knows about Sukuna is that he does not fucking date.

He also doesn't usually cradle girls against his chest after sex. He definitely doesn't play with their hair, or kiss their sore shoulders and neck to soothe the ache. He doesn't caress their skin and let them spend the night with him in his bed, he doesn't inhale the scent of their shampoo whisper sweet nothings to them about how soft they are.

And he absolutely doesn't ask them out the next day.

Even if he did all of those things, the other girls would know better than to get themselves involved with someone like him.

You, on the other hand, hopped up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, smiled at him all sweet and cute, and said yes.

“Filthy slut? For helping someone out? Doing the job that is clearly yours?” You question, but he doesn’t listen to any reasoning. He’s mad, thinking of ways to punish you, too blinded by rage to even see the smirk that’s forming on your lips as an idea comes to mind. “Aw, are you scared that he might fuck me better than you do?”

“You’re such a filthy whore.” He glares at you, and you try your best to suppress your smile, but it’s hard. “Get on the floor.”

“Why should I?” You tilt your head, as you take off your boots. Levi clicks his tongue, before he takes a few steps closer to you and he grabs a fistful of your head and pulls it. A cry leaves your lips.

“I told you to get on your knees, bitch.” He says, his eyes dark and filled with rage. You kneel down as he orders. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants, pulling them down with his boxers. “Open your mouth. Nice and wide like the whore you are.”

You open your mouth to take his cock into your mouth. He slaps his cock against your bottom lip before he shoves it into your mouth, every inch inside your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag. One thing about Levi, he might be small but his cock surely isn’t.

“Your slutty face should be used to this.” He begins to move his hips, beginning to fuck your mouth. The tip repeatedly hits the back of your throat, the tears that have gathered on your eyes beginning to spill and stream down your cheeks. He groans, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Your mouth feels so good.” He moans. He admires the tears that fall down your cheeks, thinking about how it just serves you right for being such a dirty slut. The sound of you gagging makes him move faster in and out of your mouth. “This is all you’re good for.”

Once again he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your head so you’re gagging for a couple of seconds with no ability to pull away. Drool goes down your chin as you gag, more tears than before streaming down your cheeks. When he finally lets go after a minute, you gasp for air.

“Aw, can’t handle it?” He questions before he spits on your face. He pushes your mouth back onto his cock. It seems like a game for him, one that he’s clearly enjoying. You hear a laugh mixed in with a moan. “Bet your slutty ass would gladly be choking on that cadet’s dick.”

Levi takes his cock out of your mouth, spitting on your face again, “Get up. Take off your pants and get on all fours on the bed.”

He takes one last good look at your teary red eyes and the drool that covers your chin. You get up from the floor and do as he says, take off your pants and get on the bed. You arch your back and wait for the man to do what he wants to do.

He delivers a sharp slap to your ass before saying, “Is this all you know how to do? I’m not surprised. How many guys have you slept around with?” He slaps your ass again, a whimper leaving your lips. He pushes your panties to the side, scoffing, “You’re already so wet… Do you love hearing the truth about how you’re only good at having sex? How no one wants your slutty ass unless it’s for sex?”

“Levi…” Your voice sounds so weak and sweet as you say his name. You feel his cock run through your folds, teasing you. And he won’t do much until you’re practically begging for it. You say his name again. “Please, Levi.”

You repeat those two words over and over again, until he thinks that your face sounds desperate enough for his cock. And once you’re desperate enough, his cock finally enters your cunt, a loud moan leaving your lips. 

“You feel so- so nice and tight for a slut.” He comments before he mercilessly thrusts in and out of you, not caring enough to give you a couple of seconds to adjust. You’re used to it by now, right? If not, this is somewhat of a punishment.

Although with the way you’re moaning, and how your juices coat his cock, it doesn’t seem like a punishment for you. He keeps saying, “You’re such a whore” and “Squeezing around my cock like the little slut you are” but that seems to turn you on even more.

“You just love hearing the truth.” He comments, as his hands go to your hips, his nails digging into your skin. Your cunt feels so nice and tight around him, he swears he can come at any second. He fears one of the idiots around him might take you away from him.

Levi hits all the right spots, and as he nears his release he speeds up, his moaning getting louder. You know that once he finishes, it’s over because he’s mad at you. You’re not close to finishing yet, so your hand goes down to play with your clit.

“A little whore with such a good little cunt.” Levi says, too lost to notice how you’re playing with your clit. Your cunt is squeezing around him. Levi curses under his breath as his release nears.

“Oh- Fuck-” He moans as he comes inside your cunt. His thrusts lose speed until he comes to a complete stop. He pulls his cock out and notices how you play with your clit, making a chuckle escape his lips. He gently taps your cunt twice and you stop.

“This should be a good enough lesson so you stop flirting with every guy you see.”

With your fluctuating emotions, you’ve found it difficult to accept his newfound distance. He still speaks to you, he still sleeps with his many arms wrapped around you at night, but he very rarely… touches you now.

Before, he’d ravage you like a wild beast every night, all throughout the night, so roughly and so loudly that the servants in the shrine would be awoken. He’d take as much pleasure as he gives, but now he only gives.

He’ll lick you and kiss you until you’re so overly satisfied that you struggle to remain conscious, but he won’t properly fuck you anymore.

You can picture him clearly, as he is most nights, hard and clearly needy, grinding his clothed length against your thigh, barely resisting the urge to penetrate your warmth.

“Sukuna,” you murmur his name in pleading, looking down at his hardened cocks which strain against his robes.

“No,” he grunts, “not tonight.”

And then he’ll pleasure you again, and again, and again, until you have to cry his name to assuage his desire. Once you’re so sated that you cannot think, he’ll pull you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your neck until you inevitably fall asleep.

His sexual frustration is evident, though mostly to those who oppose him. You've heard rumors that since you've become pregnant, he's been far more violent towards his enemies. There are no hostages, there are no survivors, not now.

You'd almost worry that he's taking other lovers, if you didn't know him so well. Sukuna is a sadist, and he is a monster, but when you are someone that he cares for, he cherishes you deeply, so deeply that it can be suffocating.

There is no one else for him, no one else that piques his interest, no one else who sparks desire, none other than you. His love is deep and all-consuming, even if he's never voiced it outright to you.

And then there's the nagging thought that he might not be attracted to you in this state, with this body, that he might miss the way that your stomach looked before it was round and full of his seed, but no.

No, you can read Sukuna better than anyone else, like a novel you've read a thousand times over, and you know that he looks at you now with more hunger in his eye than he ever did before. Your tits are fuller and rounder, he can't stop himself from staring, not even when you're fully clothed.

You've been frustrated with his self-restraint, as well. Since you've been pregnant, you've desired him even more so than ever. Your emotions change dizzyingly quickly, but you find yourself aroused so often that you can't fucking stand it.

He could cure the cursed itch inside of you, but he doesn't. Perhaps he's torturing you on purpose. That does sound like him.

Tonight is such a night that you're swept into desire and longing for him. You lie in the bath with rose petals scattered along the surface of the water. If the bath itself weren't so deep, you're halfway convinced that your stomach would breach the surface.

He'll be home to satisfy you later in the night, but you can't help yourself now, either. You can't wait for him any longer.

One of your hands slips across your belly, feeling the hardness of it before traveling lower between your legs. The other moves to pinch and roll your nipple between your fingers, just as Sukuna does.

Try as you might, you still can't replicate his movements. His hands, for one, are far larger than yours are, his fingers far thicker. And then there's the most notable difference, the absence of a long tongue that protrudes from your palm. There's no possible way to replicate that.

But still, you try, because the fire inside of you will eat you alive if you don't sate it at least momentarily. You whine softly into the steamy air, massaging your clit in slow, sensuous movements, pinching your nipples intermittently.

You lose yourself in thoughts of Sukuna, in thoughts of both of his cocks thrusting in and out of your cunt, thoughts of his tongue pressing against yours while the one on his abdomen licks at your clit. The bathwater around your splashes a bit as you speed up your movements, panting and groaning and trying to reach that spot inside of you that he does.

"Oh-- Sukuna," you moan helplessly, head thrown back against the stone lip of the tub.

"Oh, Y/n," a teasing voice answers, startling you out of your chase for the orgasm that you needed.

You gasp weakly, fingers still in all of the places that they shouldn't be, as you lock eyes with your husband. He's standing in the doorway, a small, cheeky grin on his face, with all of his eyes locked on you.

"That isn't funny," you murmur with embarrassment, sinking lower into the tub until only your eyes are peeking out at him, pouting.

"Did I ask you to stop?" He says, suddenly serious in tone, as he holds authoritative eye contact with you.

"With you watching?" You answer defiantly, taken aback by his request, "I couldn't."

"You were."

"Not intentionally."

"I've fucked every hole that you possess," he answers with a smug grin, "and yet you're still shy with me?"

"You've not fucked me in ages," you argue, "so I might've forgotten."

His expression sours, as he takes a step closer, and then another, towering over your naked form and blocked the candlelight surrounding you.

You know that you take certain liberties of which no one else is afforded; like the right to refuse his requests and talk back to him. He sinks down to his knees next to the tub, before leaning over to press his lips to yours.

You keep your eyes open for a moment, barely kissing him back out of protest, before he slips his tongue into your mouth, caressing your cheek with one of his large hands.

"Continue what you were doing," he demands after a moment, "and I'll consider reminding you."

One of his hands slips into the water, spreading your legs apart again after you'd closed them tightly in protest. After he's satisfied with how you're spread open, he runs his hand along your slippery body, feeling your thighs, the roundness of his baby inside of you, the heavy weight of your breast.

The arousal is back and it's consuming beyond belief, especially when his rough fingertip grazes over your sensitive nipple.

You have to look away from him in shame as you slip your hand back between your thighs, biting your lip and closing your eyes as you continue your ministrations.

"That's it, my love," he purrs affectionately, far more so than usual, "beautiful."

You whimper at his praise, massaging your clit faster. He can't help but to stare at your breasts rising out of the water, your head falling back as you pleasure yourself in front of him. He leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, groaning along with you.

"Sukuna--" you moan his name in warning, dragging your other hand into his hair to kiss him more eagerly.

It's impossible for him to watch, impossible for him to look away, as you reach your climax with a breathy sigh against his lips. He's rubbing both of his cocks through his robes as he watches, trying to soothe the ache he feels.

Even then, one of his claws rips through the fabric, and it grounds him yet again. Yes, he needs these subtle reminders that he is a being capable only of destruction, not of softness like you.

He stands up after you come down from the aftershocks, clenching his jaw hard enough to break his teeth, as he takes one last look at your wet, naked body floating in the bath.

"Come to bed after you're finished bathing," he remarks coldly, "it's late, you need rest."

Sukuna leaves you alone after that, giving you more empty promises with no follow-through, as though he's only teasing you on purpose. The anger you feel at his cold departure is petulant.

When you're out of the bath, dried everywhere other than your hair, you irritably make your way into the bedroom, where Sukuna is lying there staring through the open window.

His robes are mostly untied, like he's been clawing at them. Silvery moonlight illuminates his bare chest, the sharpness of his jawline, all of the tattoos that accentuate his features.

He looks unbearably attractive. It only makes you angrier.

"Explain it to me," you call out to him, padding over to the end of the bed where he lies.

Sukuna cocks his eyebrow up at your tone, not a man who's accustomed to being berated, most certainly.

"I need to explain nothing to you," he replies, sounding frustrated in his own right, "you were an offering to me, a possession. I owe you no explanation for anything that I do."

You, feeling caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, decide to do something unwise and unheard of. Rather than obeying him and letting it go, you move closer, climbing on top of him.

"Don't," he growls in warning, but you know better than to think that Sukuna would hurt you.

If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so the night you arrived.

When you straddle him in the center of the bed, core pressed against his cocks through his layers of clothing, he can no longer bare to look at you.

You're wearing a silk slip that exposes your legs, your arms, and shoulders. Your nipples peek through it, especially now that your tits are heavier and bigger. He knows what you look like, that's why he can't bare to see it tonight.

"Sukuna," you mutter softly, nuzzling your smaller face into the crook of his neck, "please. I miss you, and I want you-- all of you."

He grits his teeth at the shifting movement of your body on top of his cocks. If only you knew how unbearable this is for him, how badly he wants to sink both of them into your cunt and ravage you like a fucking animal tonight, and every other night afterwards.

"I'll hurt you," he warns, losing his self-control further by the second.

You're rocking your hips back and forth on top of him, trying a different approach now, one that works far better.

"You won't," you argue, nipping at his earlobe, "I know that you won't."

"You cannot possibly know that," he hisses, wrapping his large hands around your hips and rubbing you against himself harder, "I want to, I'd like it. I'll hurt you, I'll hurt her, and I won't be able to stop myself--"

"Her?" You ask, sitting up suddenly with interest in your eyes.

Sukuna looks away suddenly, his cheeks flush a shade darker, "It's a girl. The baby."

Your hand rubs your stomach reflexively, as you beam at him, "You can tell?"

"Yes," he replies indignantly, "I can tell."

You beam at him, he tries to retain his attitude but fails when you lean forward and kiss him, slotting your lips with his smoothly. If he'd forgotten the ache in his groin, he remembers it now.

Your smaller hand wraps around his larger one, bringing it to your rounded stomach, "Sukuna, you won't hurt either of us. You've held yourself back for so long," you assure him.

A slow, leisurely movement, you drag his wrist further upwards, until his large hand is massaging your breast. He’s blushing now, grinding his hips upwards against your core. He wants it, he needs it so badly.

"If you were truly such a monster," you purr against his lips, kissing him between words, "you wouldn't have held yourself back, you would've fucked and ravished me the first night..."

"Do not tease me," he threatens, tightening his grip on your tit, as his hips flex involuntarily, "you'll regret-- ngh-- it."

His words are stifled with a moan as you've finally finished unwinding his robes from his cocks, and now your cunt is pressed flat against the length of the top one, rubbing yourself up and down it.

The veins feel exquisite against your clit, you're dripping onto him with every grind of your hips. Sukuna forcibly guides you to move faster, like he's trying to get off from this and this alone.

You won't stand for that. You brace yourself on his hard, muscular shoulders, leaning up so that you can position one of them against your entrance.

"Fuck," he hisses, finally giving into his own desire and rutting up into you in shallow strokes.

It's been months since he's allowed himself relief, months of reaching the edge but never allowing himself to fall over it, months of watching you fall apart on his tongue without doing the same on yours.

He cannot wait for you once you've seated yourself on his cock, he can't wait another moment longer. He holds you tightly against his chest, he flips you over onto your back, and he uses a pair of his arms to wrap your legs around his hips, as he drills into you.

His other arms are secured tightly around your body, holding you as close to him as physically possible without crushing you. He whines into the crook of your neck, he kisses and bites and leaves bruises on the expansive column of your throat. He ruts into you like he'll never be allowed to do so again.

He can't manage words, he's so lost in the nearly forgotten feeling of your tight, silky walls enveloping his length like a noose.

"Sukuna-- Sukuna-- God, give me the other," you beg, as he feels himself already nearing the edge, "fuck me with both of your cocks-- I can handle it. I can take it--"

The sound that leaves his throat is a rumbling growl. One of his hands thrusts to where your sexes meet, he can't deny himself the pleasure of putting his other cock inside of you, too. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back after tasting your sweetness, and he was right.

As soon as he's bottomed out inside of you with both cocks situated at your cervix, he nearly climaxes then and there. He grits his teeth to stop himself, panting and staring down at your flushed expression like a lion eyeballing its prey.

Your pregnant body has been a source of agony for Sukuna; your tits are rounder, your nipples far more sensitive. He loves the round look of pregnancy on you, he loves every inch of it so fucking much that it eats at his sanity.

He sucks your incredibly sensitive nipples and crushes your lower half against his own as much as possible without hurting you, thrusting in and out of you like he's fully gone mad inside of your slick pussy.

"God fucking dammit, I love you-- I fucking need you. Can't you see how badly I fucking need you? You make such a mess of me, you fucking ruin me."

His words sound angry and filled with vitriol, but you know that they're true, that they're words he could never say without having deprived himself of you for so long now that he can't think rationally.

You gush onto his abdominal tongue, you clench around the width of his two cocks, and he's lost to the world. His mind is in heaven with his body when he's inside of you, when he's holding you so close that he can hear your rapid heartbeats and your breaths.

You feel him stuttering and panting, forehead pressed to your neck, you hear these keening whines escaping his lips-- so unlike his speaking voice, and you lock your legs around his hips tighter, as though you want him to impregnate you all over again.

Curses fall from his lips in spades, his claws rip the sheets beneath you and dig into the mattress, as he strains his muscles and thrusts his seed deep into your cunt. His cum is lava inside of you, your sweat slicked bodies stay melded together as he comes down from his long-needed high.

You run your fingers through his hair, as all of his arms wrap around your waist, and he cradles your body against his own, kissing you languorously.

"I love you, too," you murmur sweetly.

"Are you alright?" He asks, unable and unwilling to indulge in pure, sappy romanticism.

"I'm better than ever," you reply, giving him a soft grin.

"Good," he murmurs, his kisses turn rougher, he pulls halfway out and thrusts back in. You whine softly, hoping that he doesn't make you wait much longer to feel this delicious fullness again.

As it turns out, he doesn't make you wait any longer at all. Instead, he breathily mutters, "Again."

That's not to mention... The money. You're not naive enough to think that someone has that much disposable income without doing some shady shit to get it.

It's enough that you're looking at new apartments, enough that you're buying yourself expensive jewelry on a regular basis, enough that you're carrying a versace handbag now, and you don't even have to worry about the price.

You find yourself getting so comfortable with him that you almost don't worry about being frugal anymore.

And he doesn't ask for much in return for being your glorified sugar daddy, all he wants is the ability to see your body whenever he asks. If he asks to see your tits at work, by all means you run off into the dressing room and show off for him.

Even though he's seen every part of your body already on your streams, he still wants more from you. You accused him of being greedy once or twice as a tease, and he wholeheartedly agreed.

He is greedy, he wants it all.

A couple months pass, and you learn things about him that you never thought you would. For instance, he's thirty-five, a bit older than you (a little over ten years older, to be precise).

Sometimes he sends you pictures of himself, but only from the lower half of his face down. He's usually smoking a cigarette, showing off his scarred chest and abdominal muscles.

There's a scar that runs perpendicular with his face, through the right side of his pretty lips, moving down his chin. You subconsciously find yourself looking for people who have that matching scar when you're walking down the street, but to no avail.

His abs are so well defined that you can imagine how they'd feel under your tongue. He's muscular and tall, vascular everywhere, but especially right around his happy trail.

Your sixth sense was so right, he's hot, hotter than he could've been in your wildest dreams.

He's got veins and ridges that lead toward his cock that you'd love nothing more than to run the flat side of your tongue along, before moving lower and sucking his--

The bell at the front door rings, letting you know that someone's walked into the shop. You shake the unholy thoughts away, straightening out your shirt before you greet them.

"Hi, welcome in to..." your voice trails off, your eyes widen, you shake your head and finish your greeting quickly, telling him your name and asking if he's looking for anything in particular.

He's tall with black hair and thin, green eyes. He's wearing a black face mask, but his eyes crinkle up like he's smiling when he sees you. He's wearing a black sweater, black pants, and combat boots. The only colorful thing in his ensemble are those mesmerizing emerald eyes of his.

You must've been hit with a random wave of deja vu when you saw him, because you could swear that he's familiar...

"Nah, I'm just looking around. Thanks, baby," he says with a friendly gaze, or at least you think it is...?

The mask hides the majority of his features-- most importantly, it hides his mouth, which is the part of him that you're most interested in seeing right now.

But it can't be him. If it were, that would either be one hell of a coincidence, or a terrifying breech of boundaries that you'd rather not think about.

"Alright," you answer, trying to sound chipper, "just let me know if you need help finding anything."

He looks around for a minute, and you realize how incredibly alone you are in this store right now. You're the only one working today, after all. It's a small boutique, it's not rare for you to be the only person here.

But now it's just you, and this mysterious, large man who's wandering through the aisles and sneaking cheeky glances at you when he notices you're staring at him.

He catches you staring for the third time since he's walked in, you mutter a "shit," to yourself, as you turn around and try to make yourself look busy.

In reality, you're just pretending to fold thongs that don't need to be folded and biting your cheek like it's going to be your last meal.

"Actually, I might need your help after all," he purrs, now standing behind you and startling you.

"Shit-- I mean, sure! Of course. What-- uh-- what are you looking for?"

You curse yourself for stammering, but dear god he's so large and intimidating. When he's standing right in front of you, you can clearly see that your head is about level with his pectoral muscle. He must be a foot taller than you, and so broad that he blocks the warm, sensual overhead lighting.

He looks around at the aisles and displays that are filled with nothing other than bras, panties, bodysuits, and thongs, and he comes to his decision.

"Lingerie, I guess."

You mentally slap yourself. Well, duh, of course he's looking for lingerie in a lingerie shop.

"Sure, yeah, of course," you mutter, coming around the counter to help him out, "is there a style or a color you're looking for?"

As you move through the different sections sort of hastily and nervously, he leisurely strides behind you, seeming to take pleasure in how nervous you are.

"What do you like?" He asks. His voice is sweet and smooth like molasses on your tongue.

"I... like all of it," you answer diplomatically, "because I work here, of course. These in particular have been popular this month," you state, guiding him towards the newest and most expensive bodysuits.

"Black lace with intricate patterns to accentuate your curves. They're elegant, sexy, and... crotchless," the last word comes out accidentally, but the man chuckles regardless.

"Hmm," he hums, leaning over your shoulder to look at the fabric in your hands, "and why would they be crotchless?"

He smells like dior, you think, but there's a hint of cigarette smoke overtop of it.

Oh, fuck.

"You... can't think of a reason?" You ask, testing the waters a little playfully.

"I can think of several," he replies, "but I wanna hear you say it."

His arm slips around you, and you watch with baited breath as his larger hand encloses yours. And you know these hands-- you know the vein that pops out on this thumb, you know these deeply scarred knuckles.

"For fucking," you reply softly, as his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling your back tightly against his chest, "it's made like this so that you can get fucked when you're wearing it, without having to take it off."

There's a rumble in his chest sort of like a growl, as he runs his nose along the junction where your shoulder and neck meet, inhaling your scent deeply.

"You shouldn't have come here, Toji," you mutter quietly, as his hot breath sends shivers crawling up the length of your spine, settling on the back of your neck.

"Mm, you're right," he hums against the side of your neck, having pulled his mask down at some point while you weren't paying attention, "and I shouldn't have locked the door behind me when I walked in, either."

"You did that?"

You hadn't even noticed-- too busy trying to figure out if he was who you were hoping him to be, but he locked the door and turned the sign around to closed.

"Mhm," he purrs, pressing a featherlight kiss to your pulse, "go try this on for me, baby."

"What if I don't want to?" You ask indignantly, trying to hold onto some semblance of self-respect before you inevitably fuck this man at your workplace.

"Oh, you don't want to?" He laughs against your earlobe.

A scarred hand moves lower, thrusting itself into your panties. You gasp, your knees threaten to buckle, as he toys with the wetness that's pooling in your underwear.

"You say that," he mutters huskily, "but your body tells me you're lying. Look at you, creaming all over my fingers like a whore."

"Fuck, Toji," you moan, pressing your face against his neck, "don't stop."

He's a bad listener, because he stops right as you say that, retracting his fingers from inside of you. He turns you around, thrusting his slick-covered fingers into your mouth.

You suck on them diligently, running your tongue along his fingers and between them, giving him lovestruck, wide-eyed stare as you do so.

"Fuck, you're hot," he hisses impatiently, as he grabs your waist and crushes his lips to yours.

His kiss is deep and fierce, your tongue laves over the scar on his lips, he moans when you do so. He licks your tongue and explores your mouth, sharing the taste of your cum between the two of you.

When he pulls back, there's a string of spit between your kiss-swollen lips, and his hands are gripping both of your asscheeks aggressively.

"Go put on something sexy for me," he demands, slapping your ass hard with one of his big hands before pushing you away from him and towards the dressing room.

You resist the urge to giggle at the absurdity of it all, as you finish fastening the straps of the lace bodysuit you chose for yourself, crotchless of course.

When you step out from behind the curtain wearing nothing but lingerie, thigh-high stockings, and the heels you just so happened to choose today, Toji practically growls at the sight of you. The sound that escapes him is nothing less than animalistic.

"Fuck, I've wanted you for so long now," he rasps, as you approach him, "get on your fuckin' knees for me."

He's sitting on a seat right in front of the big mirrors at the end of the hallway, waiting for you with his legs spread and a salacious grin on his face. You listen to his command, lowering yourself down to your knees in front of him.

"May I?" You ask, running your hands along the tops of his thighs, moving towards his belt.

He puts his hand on your wrist right before you reach his belt-buckle, grinning at you somewhat mischievously. You scrunch your brows up in question, as he reaches down and removes a fucking gun from his waistband.

"Were you expecting things to go badly today?" You ask, trying to lighten your own momentary panic with a joke.

"Not with you, baby,” he purrs, watching your eyes follow the gun with intrigue as he holds it in his big hands, "wanna touch it?"

"What's it for?" You ask, running your fingertip along the smooth metal barrel luxuriously.

Toji smirks down at you, "What do you think?"

It's the danger about him-- that's what gets you every fucking time. The feeling in your stomach where you know that you should run in the opposite direction, far, far away from this man, but you don't want to.

“Is it loaded?”

“Always.”

You watch his movements, making sure his finger stays away from the trigger, as you turn the barrel towards yourself. You're dripping slick onto the stone flooring beneath you, as you run your tongue along the side of the gun seductively, holding eye contact with him.

"God, baby," he groans, "you're fucking crazy, huh?"

Instead of answering, you kiss the tip, before sucking it into your mouth. Your lipstick smears along the barrel, just like it does on those sex toys you suck for him.

"So fucking hot," he breathes, "you trust me that much, baby? I could kill you right now."

You groan along the barrel, before slipping it out of your mouth, watching the string of saliva link your lips to the glistening metal.

"You won't kill me," you reply, reaching underneath his arms to unzip his pants, "I trust you... At least enough to let me suck you off first.”

"Mm, fuck, you might be right about that," he groans, as you free his cock from his briefs.

It’s bigger than even the pictures made it seem. Thick and pretty with a few prominent veins running along either side.

You slide your tongue along his length, moving from the tip to the balls in wet strokes, before sucking the head into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks so that your mouth suctions around his cock perfectly.

He moans, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to take it deeper, all the way down to the base. He's groaning with every bob of your head, all the saliva that's dripping down his length.

"Fuck, that's it," the growls, "that's it-- deeper-- relax your fuckin' throat, just like that. Just like that."

Tears stream down your cheeks, as you take his as deep as he can possibly go, and he fucks up into your mouth like he'll die if he doesn't fit as much cock as he can into you at once.

"Goddamn, baby, fuck that's good," he growls, before using his grip in your hair to pull you off of him entirely. His hand grips the base of his cock, holding it tight so he doesn't cum on your face.

He's panting now, his cheeks are flushed pink, and his cock is leaking precum.

"Ride me right fucking now," he orders, pulling you up onto his lap, "as much as I wanna cum on your pretty face, I need to feel this pussy for myself."

You're already dripping when he reaches between your thighs to massage your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you a little aggressively. You bounce up and down on top of them, bracing your hands on his shoulders.

"Look," he grunts, grasping your jawline with two fingers, forcing you to turn your head around and look at your reflection, "watch."

In the mirrors, you can see his thick cock pulsing against your entrance, you can see yourself straddling his lap, your asscheeks spread apart by his hands. You can see the cum dripping from your hole down onto the tip of his cock, so wet and ready for him to fuck you.

And then he grabs your waist, impaling your smaller body onto the thick length of him. You watch it enter you, inch by inch, thicker and wider than any toy you have. He hits your cervix when he's fully sheathed inside-- you can feel it.

"Your pussy is so tight," he groans, bouncing you up and down on his wet cock, "so fucking tight-- so fucking good-- even better than I imagined it when I was fucking my fist to those videos of you."

"Fuck, Toji-- Fuck-- Fuck--" You're moaning and falling apart already. The tears on your cheeks haven't even dried yet, and he's breaking you in half with this monstrous third leg of his.

He touches you everywhere, but he gropes your ass the most, holding your asscheeks apart so that he watch himself impaling your cunt with every bounce of your body.

He likes seeing how much he stretches your pussy out when he drives himself into you, he likes watching your face contort with pleasure like it does every other night, he likes watching your tits bounce and inevitably fall out of that bodysuit.

When you cum on him, it's a gush and a cry of his name, and he fucks you through it like a man fresh out of prison, a man fresh out of hell. He kisses you deeply, searching the inside of your mouth like there's gold inside of you that he'll fuck out if he tries hard enough.

He massages your clit, he bounces you along the length of his cock until your legs shake, and you're gushing and creaming around him again, and again.

He won't last much longer, he's soaked in you and biting down on your neck while you wrap your arms around his, boneless and just taking whatever he gives you. He's panting and growling against your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth.

"Gonna cum, baby-- fuck, i'm gonna cum," he moans, "where do you want it? Hm?"

But no, it doesn't matter where you want it. It matters where he wants it, and he's already pulling you off of his cock, back down to your knees again, shoving himself into your mouth.

You take him willingly, desperately, staring up at him with hollowed cheeks while he bucks into your mouth only three times before gripping your head with both hands and cumming down your throat. You gulp and swallow, as he fucks his release onto your tongue.

"That's it, fucking swallow it for me-- yes, yes, yes, take it-- take it-- fuck--" he growls, watching some of it dribble out of your nose when you pull away.

Panting for air, he takes a look at you in the mirror, on your knees before him. The lighting in the dressing room is immaculate, so maybe that's why he sees a little bit of his own cum leaking out of your pussy onto the black floor beneath you.

You're cleaning him up with your mouth, as he gazes down at you affectionately.

Oh, well, doesn't really matter if he didn't pull out in time. He was always going to make you his. If something happens... well, that's just more incentive for you to say yes.