#sub!taesan

Taesan scooches closer to your chest, getting comfy with your warmth against his back. The tiny shorts he wears rise when he does so, exposing more of the unmarked milky thighs that are begging to be grasped. 

You swear it's intentional, a try at getting you to take him apart with your hands and mouth; it's his fault that hunger itches your teeth and lust glazes your eyes.

The kiss you place on the pulse point of his neck makes him jump a little; not expecting your warmth to be anywhere else than just his back. He lets you kiss up his neck, bite his ear, but once you grip his hips, he gets way too distracted that it becomes bothersome. 

So he says.

Even as he looks at you incredulously when you continue pulling his legs apart, his flushed cheeks are a pretty pink, and the hand that doesn't push yours away all give his eagerness away.

“Shh, baby, let me touch it, let me make you feel good,” you shush him. Promising him the pleasure is worth fighting through his disagreement for.

“I'm watching the movie,” he states plainly, but you don't listen, never do. Always going with what he doesn't say but wants, what he wishes for you to do, even if he doesn't voice it. 

You move from behind him, and he must think you're done with him because he stops you with a hand on your arm. He looks up at you, doe-eyed and needy. “What?” you tease, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you go with a pout. You continue to move him, laying him back against the blankets beneath him. 

He lies down easily, so easy to make listen, so easy to make want it.

“You're blocking my movie,” he tries, but his voice is shaky, the edge he wishes to coat his words sounding a lot like need. You kiss his ankles slowly before trailing them up his calves. Palming over where his shorts have bunched up around his hardening cock. 

He swats your hand off his private, “Stop, just kissing,” he says, but doesn't make a move to stop you when you press your palm down harder against him. His hips bucking up into your hand, biting his lip when you twist your flat palm just right. 

You go to take his shorts and underwear off. He shakes his head cutely, hair bouncing as he does so. His shaky hands try to fight yours off, but he's not strong enough. Poor kitty can only weakly deny for so long, becoming too busy being lost in the small sparks that tingle his cock. 

“No…” he attempts, but it falls on deaf ears. You, too, are too busy in your head, too busy lusting for his cum to leak over where you now begin to stroke him. The slow glide up his cock is loose, not yet tightening your grasp, just so he soon yearns for you to do more. 

“Don't want it..stop..”

“You say that, yet we've come this far by you letting me touch you, be honest, kitty, you like it.” You voice, and he can't find it in himself to deny it. Deny that he’s a slut who loves to play hard to get, loves to act coy, only to plead for you to fuck him with his body if not his words.

No, Taesan never says he wants it; he shows he does. 

Like now, as his hole that you circle clenches around nothing, enticing you to stuff it full. You lick a stripe up from his hole to his balls that lie heavy, and he mewls loudly. Always sensitive to pleasure.

You don't give him time to adjust, you're moving too quickly, and it makes it all the better. It makes him feel as if you dismissively regard him. He squirms away, his body not being able to handle the constant sparks in different areas, now being everywhere all at once.

“Take it, kitty, be good,” you say as you begin to fuck into him, fucking his hole till it stretches wide to your shape, accustomed to all that you fill it with. 

“Fuck, I can't–” he tries to protest against you, a small push to your chest, just for it to fall back against his own soon after. Holding his hand to his chest as you rock him with your thrust. His cock leaks pathetically and bounces against his wet tummy.

“Feel good, kitty?” you question. The laugh you let out heats his skin. He must look so slutty this way, and he thinks he likes that fact more than he wants to admit. 

You push his legs back to his chest, and he whines loudly at the change. Your cock feels so deep, it's hitting parts of him he didn't think he'd feel get fucked tonight. His skin feels hot, his tongue drools heavily, and his eyes cross before his lids close; it's too much.

You're everywhere around the kitty; he's weak against you, against his fight. 

So he fucks you back, rocks his hips up and down to meet your speed, to have your skin slapping his own addictively. He doesn't want this, he swears he doesn't–

He doesn't want you fucking him dumb, making his cock leak until it's all messy and sticky against him. He doesn't want any of this.

Because he needs it. 

The difference is large and clear. 

You bite his neck and continue thrusting into him, deeper with each stroke. Now slowly and with intention, bucking up into that spot that has him crying small “no’s” each time you hit it because something in his stomach is coiling. It feels too wet to be a normal orgasm, too white in his vision to be something he's used to. 

One more pointed thrust to his prostate, and the coil breaks. 

“Ahhh, ahh!” he moans loudly, and you watch as pretty kitty Taesan squirts until his thighs lie wet and shake from the pleasure he denied himself, but now let's wash over him.

Your smile feels proud, evilly so. To know your kitty felt so good he came, came like a kitty in heat, all from touches he swats away, denies himself to feel.

Pretty kitty taesan never says he wants to be fucked full, never says he wants to be fucked until he squirts messily.  No, but he shows it, and with the way he takes all that he leaked onto his tummy onto one of his fingertips, brings it to his mouth, and licks it. Tasting himself with a lopsided grin towards you. 

Kitty Taesan shows he wants you to fuck him one more time.