#revenger

lounging and languid on the sofa, with his long legs spread and stretched, his chest heaving with hardly contained hunger as you climbed up on top of him. he tilts his head to one side, the mauve mop of unruly tendrils shifting to expose one critically appraising eye. the weight of his gaze palpable. he didn’t miss how your right foot slipped off his thigh— the sheepish way that you avoided watching him watching you. “Hmm, cutie.” he teased with a wicked grin, just to fluster you all the more. “Not so used to riding, are you, little girl? Does the timid, little thing need her big, strong ojisan to help her?” his voice lilted a little at the title you bestowed upon him, as if he were lightheartedly mocking the years that separate the two of you.

you righted yourself with a soft and determined huff, finding safer footing higher up on his warm thighs. the muscles in them were tense beneath flesh decorated with sparse hairs. “Nuh uh…” you offered softly, before chancing a glance up at his face ( which had been a big mistake ). he was smiling, ear to ear, with one hand tucked behind his head. the other — his dominant hand — gripped the base of his cock. it was resting against his tense abdomen, already swollen and hard. still shiny and spit-slicked from the attention your mouth had laved over it moments before. stressed veins spiderweb across the thick expanse of his shaft, topped with an angry, pink tip that was twitching in anticipation, practically demanding to find itself buried deep in your cunt. he chuckled a bit at your honesty, gaining a soft and bashful, “Don’t laugh, please…” from your lips. “I— I can do it…”

Jinkuro’s grin deepened, flashing teeth behind lips stretched taut, and used the grip on his own cock to spank it against your mound and lower belly as he hummed in amusement. “You’re halfway there, pretty girl.” he crooned, noting how your body jutted forward with an instinctive desire for friction. your sticky netherlips cradled his veined girth, wrapping it in a warm, wet caress that had his breath catching in his throat. he swallowed it down with a happy gurgle, pushing his hips upward more insistently, until the thick, spongy tip notched into you. “There we go,” he swooned, watching the way your eyes widened. it was the same look you always had when he slipped inside— awe at the size or perhaps, the way your sex stretched around him, swallowing the tip with an eagerness that you’d never truly get over, no matter how many times you slept with him. the rhythm in your needy grinding stuttered, and you let out a soft, shuddering gasp. “Sit on it. Come on.”

your hands flew to his chest, nails digging into the muscle pads of his pectorals. you sink down, slowly, just enough for the first couple of inches to worm their way inside, and you hiss through your pursed lips, wiggling your hips a bit. you stirred those couple of inches around in you, acutely aware of the bulge of every vein when they strain against your velvety walls. still, when you glanced down, you could see the remaining length of him still sticking out from the join of your bodies, and your muscles tightened up at the mere thought of being full of him again. a breathless whimper leaves your lips as you will your body lower, popping another inch inside.

“You can take me, little girl.” Jinkuro assured, though his drawl was lazily, husky, as he enjoyed the slow descent. he released his own cock, that hand dancing it’s way up the length of your body, until he cradled your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding your gaze back to his face. to his open-mouthed grin, and the way his hot breath left it. he pulled your face closer to his, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper the closer you got. “I’ve seen you take every inch, don’t hold out on me. Fast or slow doesn’t matter to me,” his lips form the words against your mouth, breath that was heavy with the taste of sake and smoke washing over your face intoxicating you in equal measure with his words, “just as long as you ride me good, as long as you take me deep in your little belly, pretty girl.”

you wanted to look away; your face was on fire, but he wouldn’t let you. not when he talked dirty, and definitely not when you sink lower and lower, until you were whining and full, perched against his pubic bone with his cock stuffing you full. he merely purred in approval, nodding with a nonchalance that was almost condescending. “That’s perfect,” he grunted, deep in his throat, his hips shifting beneath you, rolling upwards to push himself more insistently, more eagerly into your guts. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

you could barely speak, but give him a bashful nod and broken whine in response, your nails scraping at his chest. you knew that he wouldn’t mind the scratches, not even if they raised the skin. you’d made similar artwork on his back plenty of times, trying to handle him. trying to take him the way he wanted you to.

both of his hands fell away after several moments of stillness, of marveling in the way your insides molded to the shape of him, becoming a living, breathing sheath for Jinkuro Isarizawa’s cock, and only his cock, to slide into so deliciously. when he palms the flare of your hips, his fingers curling around to press adamantly against your lower back, he starts to move you himself. “Yeah it does,” he affirms, his jaw set, the only visible eye focused on the way your countenance distorted in pleasure and distress in equal measure when he guided you into a slow, grinding rhythm. “Don’t buck,” he warned, “don’t bounce, baby. Don’t want an inch of me slipping out of this tight, little cocksleeve. Just rub your cute pussy on me, like this.”

the friction was maddening, as was his instruction. every muscle in his body was pulled as taut as a bowstring ready to snap, forming a ridged ride for you to slide over, your swollen little button getting snagged on every bone, every muscle, and every rough patch of hair, until you were trembling and mewling on top of him, beating on his chest with weak, open-handed smacks, so close to orgasm that you started to move on your own, driven by base instinct and the need for release. “O-Ojisan!” you cried out, your eyelids fluttering as you scrub your most tender, hyper sensitive sex against him. his cock throbs deep in your guts, pressing against your belly from the inside with each oscillation, reminding you that he’s speared you to the hilt, filled you as deep as you can be filled.

Jinkuro moaned, too. seemingly having more fun watching you getting yourself off. his neck rested back against the sofa, body splayed out. “That’s right, pretty thing,” he encouraged, running his hands around to your back. they trace up and down the shape of your spine, his fingertips leaving goosebumps over your skin that was just starting to gain a sparkling coat of perspiration. “Just feel it for me. Feel me, fuck yourself on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

you both knew that moment was coming soon. the moment when you would, inevitably, lose the ability to keep grinding. when the trembling of your legs would become too troublesome, and the muscles in your extremities would refuse to work with you anymore.

and you knew, when that moment came, you would have to beg him to take over.

and he would. because of course he would.

Jinkuro would just grin a sleazy, arrogant grin, pleased that you would’ve worked yourself to the edge on him. and he would, without fail, slip both hands back into place on your hips, and coax you into riding out an orgasm that would undoubtedly leave you collapsed and deflated against his chest, panting and wracked with aftershocks that no other customer had ever, or could ever, give you.