#10.0

struggles to imagine anything hotter than you cumming as he bites into your shoulder. In fact, he’s starting to believe there isn’t anything hotter. It’s never a planned action, never a conscious decision, but his mouth on your skin, teeth grazing your goosebumps, cock thrusting erratically up into you as you sit atop his thighs, ankles locked behind his back, chests pressed together — how could he not nip at your clavicle? Lick along your jawline. Whimper into your throat as you clench around him. Muffle his groan with the crook of your neck as you moan lowly, orgasm crawling steadily from the tips of your toes to the lobes of your ears. “Don’t stop,” you demand hoarsely, fingernails digging into his biceps, “Don’t you dare stop.”

rose petals. Specifically, rose petals sprinkled from the doorway to the bedroom, and on the bed itself. He’s aware of the inconvenience, the extravagance, but can’t get past their romance, their wholeheartedness. Plus, getting to caress the curve of your neck, discovering petals tangled in your hair, brushing a few stuck to your glistening skin, is—he believes—the highest honor. “I swear I’m eating a petal,” you grumble, legs wrapped around his waist, held in place by gentle, strong hands. “You smell beautiful,” is his soft response, cock thrusting in far enough to jostle the cohesion of your thoughts. “You feel beautiful,” as he knocks a low moan from your chest to your parted mouth, leaning forward. “So warm,” hips snapping unexpectedly, cock bullying its way through your slick, pulsing heat, his grip on your thighs tightening as you gasp, pussy clenching. “What was that darling?” he murmurs sweetly — knowingly. “Y-you,” you whimper, addictive throb in your abdomen slowing your tongue, “You feel so g-good.”

firmly believes in going down on you first. You’re basically required to cum once, twice, three times (??) before he willingly surfaces from between your thighs, his smug grin smeared with spit, tongue flicking out to ~clean himself (spoiler alert: he’s just desperate for how you taste).

frequently wakes you up via orgasm. You’re utterly breathtaking—ethereal—in the morning, sunlight skimming your eyelashes, sheets tangled between your legs ~just so, mouth slightly parted in an adorable, sensual manner. “G’morning baby,” she grins cheekily, chin resting on your pelvic bone as you blink unsteadily, thighs trembling, “Feel good?” Cooing proudly when you nod, sleepy fingers curling into her hair as you mumble contently, “Feels great,” your eyes closing again, indulgent moan building in your lungs, “Why’d you stop?” The tip of her tongue flicking happily at your clit, thick murmur hot on your skin, “Don’t worry honey,” trailing wet kisses down your pretty folds, “Was only taking a moment to say hello.”

mirrors! Specifically, mirror seduction. Appreciation. Definitely comes up behind you in the bedroom while you’re staring at your reflection, strong arms resting themselves above your hips, teeth nipping at your nape. “My sexy baby,” with an adorable rasp, “Do you need a second opinion? I’d be happy to check you out,” her palms pressing lightly, lowering, fingertips teasing across your inner thigh. “Mitsuri, I’m getting dressed,” you mumble, head subconsciously tilting backward toward her heat. “Dressed?” she giggles, “I can help you undress,” fingers rubbing slowly, steadily against your crotch, “Undressing would certainly make this feel even better,” her knee nudging—spreading—your legs, smug grin tugging at her lips as you melt into her. “That’s it baby, let me take care of you, yeah? So fucking pretty looking at you like this.”

roleplay! She typically breaks character pretty soon into the scene, but thoroughly appreciates and adores the time and effort put into planning plot and costumes. Really, the costumes are what cause her to break character, because, “Baby, you’re so fucking hot!” jumps from her heart to her mouth before she remembers she’s supposed to be your professor. “Baby?” you feign confusion, back arching subtly to further present your tits, “It’s not too bad in here, actually. I’m not even sweating. Are you feeling okay, professor?” Obvious blush coloring her cheeks, she inhales deeply, stare raking greedily along your frame, “Of course. Thank you for your concern. I don’t know what came over me!” already imagining how delectable you’ll look sitting on her face, clit swollen against the tip of her tongue, thighs muffling her ability to hear your stuttering moans as you grind down eagerly.

encourages communication and experimentation in the bedroom. He’s not necessarily comfortable with trying ~everything, but he strives to nurture a safe space for his and your sexual fantasies and needs. A frequently revisited favorite of his is edging: something about the pulse of your clit on his tongue as you near your orgasm, knowing your head’s tilted backward, throat tight and anticipatory, spilling into a frayed, frenzied whine when he suddenly forces your ass forward—decidedly ruining your pleasure—dark satisfaction welling in his lower belly at the needy, hopeless undulations of your hips.

is enthralled by the pretty clench of your asshole whenever he fucks you from behind. Spit pools on the tip of his tongue, dripping messily onto your lower back, teasing thumb smearing across your skin, shoulders shuddering as you moan, “K-kyo.” Hm? he hums innocently, other hand tight on your pelvis, “What do you want, sweetheart?” Wailing softly, you push your hips firmly against his taut muscles, spine arching in a desperate attempt to unravel his control, “My ass, Kyo, please.” A delighted chuckle rumbles in his chest, thumb grazing your glistening rosebud, “Your ass, sweetheart? You want me to touch you here?”

if you’re horny and he’s… well… tired, then he still encourages you to sit on his face. Too tired to fuck ≠ too tired to pleasure you. Besides, riding his tongue isn’t as involved as, say, fingering you, with generally easier clean up as well (unless he gets you to squirt, in which case, neither method is particularly contained). “Don’t worry about me, Kyo. I know how to get myself off,” you huff cutely, thumbing the waistband of your panties. “I know you do! But I really would not mind bringing you to one or two orgasms,” he counters earnestly, tongue poking out. Chewing at your bottom lip, you press your tits against his bicep, eyelashes fluttering, “You’re sure you don’t mind being my sex toy?” Groaning lowly, his bright stare darkens, fatigue receding to the edges of his vision at your coy tone, “I do not mind in the slightest!” mouth curving confidently, “I hope you can handle more than one or two orgasms.” “Let’s see if you can stay awake for three,” you wink, loud squeal filling the bedroom as he promptly tugs you upward, cock twitching at the feel of your thighs warm and snug around his head.

“Kyo…” you raise an eyebrow, lips pursed, whipped cream can clutched in your hand, “Are you sure about this? Couldn’t you get like, a UTI?” Laughing loudly, he flexes his cock, easy grin countering the Show off roll of your eyes, “I can handle a little sugar!” Pouting slightly, you angle the tip of the can downward, tone sultry as you murmur, “Are you saying I’m only a little sweet?” Frowning immediately, he reaches for your wrist, gaze tender and provoking as he corrects you, “You are perfect,” smirking at your adorable shriek as he presses on your fingers, activating the spraying mechanism. “You made a mess!” you squeal, eyes widening at the display of whipped cream dripping from his groin to his balls, shaft sloppily hidden by the already melting substance. “What a shame,” he declares coyly, winking exaggeratedly, “If only there was someone around to aid me in my dilemma!”

has burned dinner on multiple occasions due to being distracted by your Fucking sexy ass. And it’s difficult to form a coherent retort when he’s got your hips pressed against the counter, calloused hands gripping and spreading your ass cheeks, face buried in your cunt. “Who needs dinner?” he growls, tongue sliding leisurely between your folds, “When they’ve got your pussy?” Low moans vibrate upward toward your clit, voice deepening as he demands, “But nobody gets your pussy,” abruptly pulling away, chin shiny with your slick, “Nobody ‘cept me,” eyes narrowing greedily as you groan loudly, grinding backward in search of his delicious friction, “Right?”

thoroughly appreciates your filthy mouth, but enjoys brat taming you even more. “S-shit,” you gasp, jaw clenching as his thumb presses casually into your inner thigh. “What was that?” he mutters, glare narrowing, “Did I give you permission to swear?” “Since when do I need fucking permission to- F-fuck!”“ you exclaim, biting at your tongue as he pinches your skin, pain lingering promisingly. "Keep this up, and you won’t be walking tomorrow,” he states nonchalantly, hands strong on your knees, parting your legs lewdly. “N-nemi,” you whimper, heat flooding your chest as he stares intently. “Hm?” he drawls, chin grazing your crotch as he leans in smirking, “I know you like this, being spread nice and pretty for me.” 

is obsessed with your nipples. Loves pressing his tongue flat against them; loves swirling his tongue around them; loves sucking softly, teasingly, roughly on them; loves nipping gently at them. He can’t help himself! They’re just so pretty and sensitive: enticing him to pinch, pull, and twist them — smack and clamp them (assuming you’re into that). His favorite pastime is attempting to beat his previous record of how many unique noises he can coax out of you, and if he ends up cumming from grinding against your thigh as he doles out his ministrations, then he simply begins all over again.

grabs your ass as you ride him/slaps your ass as he fucks you. Rarely hard (not really meant as impact play): he simply adores how plush and sensual the rippling of your body feels. Has definitely drooled watching your tits bounce while kneading your asscheeks, eyes narrowed in flushed awe at how perfect and fuckable you look. Has also definitely gotten distracted while fucking you from behind; slapping one cheek then the other then back to the first, mesmerized by their jiggle; spurred on by your breathless exclamations of Fuck and G-giyuu and Shit! “Why’d you stop?” you whine, hand reaching behind you to grip his thigh, urging him to continue thrusting. “Your fault,” he grunts lowly, resisting the impulse to pull out completely so he can nip at your thighs, “I can’t wait to kiss your pretty thighs. Gonna make them so wet you’ll be begging for me to clean ‘em up.”

as wet and perfect as your pussy feels, he knows how much you adore your One more please orgasm, and it’s admittedly difficult for him to give you one more with his cock right after cumming. His solution? Cumming on your tits. “Fucking dirty slut,” he murmurs, face flushed, abs flexed, cock releasing a messy trail between your tits, smearing down your stomach, dribbling onto your throbbing clit. “Yeah?” he hums, fingers pressing firmly into your hips, restraining their undulations, “Greedy babygirl, my filthy whore wants another, doesn’t she?” Grinning when you whine loudly, nodding rapidly, rivulets of cum marking your skin as you wriggle needily, “Another! Please. One more p-please!” And he doesn’t ever deny you, guiding your eager fingers to your slick folds Touch yourself babygirl, his own fingertips pinching, pulling, tugging, twisting at your nipples, sloppy and determined.

yes he’s a sex god, and yes his favorite moments are when you end up laughing together, mid thrust. Maybe it’s the playful glow of your stare, stray hairs framing your joyful expression as you ride him; maybe it’s the addicting warmth of your cunt, teasing low groans from his chest with every strategic clench; maybe it’s the glistening sweat sliding slowly between your breasts, salty on his tongue as he suddenly crunches upward, lapping sloppily at your skin, eyes narrowing as his cock sinks deeper with the abrupt movement, strangled gasp parting your lips. Whatever it is, he knows he’s infinitely in love with you as you smack his shoulders, “Tengen!” huffing, “You’re. Too. Big!” dissolving into laughter as he immediately retorts, “I know you are, but what am I?” (albeit, he does lift you ever so slightly to relieve the pressure of his Big Cock™)

is a huge fan of remote controlled vibrators. “Let’s go out tonight?” with a crooked smirk is his code for Are you in the mood to play? “Hm, with dessert!” is your—admittedly cheesy—answer when you’re game; “Okay, but no dessert for me,” when you’re uninterested. Usually ends in car sex before even making it home, because while he’s technically sober, he’s also definitely intoxicated by your low whimpers, adorable wriggling, and pained—in the best way—begging of Tengen and Tengen, please and Take me home and fuck me, or I will excuse myself and get myself off in the bathroom (if you follow through with your latter threat, then he most certainly joins you; locking himself in a stall with you, effortlessly lifting your leg via the crook of your knee; thick, practiced fingers roughly tugging aside your thong, slipping eagerly into your squelching cunt).