#usui

you knew that Usui was devout; this was just an elaborate opportunity for Isarizawa to annoy him, but you couldn’t help but want to go along with it. not only were you paid handsomely, but it wasn’t very often that your client was as staunch as Usui seemed to be.

“You can make yourself comfortable.” you offered, as innocently as a vixen could conjure, your svelte fingertips running the bare expanse of your chest, tracing the tops of your breasts as you speak. as you lay on your back, they sit, rounded, against your ribs, simply begging to be groped.

“I assure you, this is fine for me.” was the flat response you received. his tone, whilst not rude, brokered little argument. his light eyes, illuminated by the lamp in the corner, stared straight ahead.

“Are you sure? You have barely looked at me at all,” your murmur softly, pushing yourself to sit up, your bare legs stretching out in front of him. they rub against the soft sea of bedding for a moment, your voice betraying a tinge of self-consciousness, but only just. “Do you not find me pretty, Usui-San?”

for a moment, you could swear that you saw a specter of a smile tickling his soft lips, his eyes coruscating sapphires as he looks to you. for a long moment, he merely stares at you, but his gaze isn’t hungry like so many others you’ve ever experience. much unlike that of the man that actually paid you. it’s soft, and kind. “I find you beautiful, but you already know that,” his voice was level, and genuine, adding with a subtle air of an underlying, playful nature. “Your customers must have a hard time controlling themselves around you.”

you allow your voice to lilt with a similar tease. “Most of them,” before you analyze him with a furrow of your brow. “But you are unflappable. Tell me, Usui-San,” scooching yourself closer, you push up on to your knees, your hands reaching out to gently caress his broad shoulders. he didn’t reject your touch, which you’d partially been expecting. the muscle you found tensing just beneath the fabric of his pristine haori surprised you. lean and taut; and it gives you pause. but as soon as you’d allowed a glimpse of surprise to flicker across your features, it disappeared, and you crooned softly. “What is it that makes you lose control of yourself?”

Usui almost seemed as if he didn’t want to answer. his lips parted for a moment, an even breath passing through them. you are close enough to feel that same breath tickle your cheeks, but you couldn’t place the smell alcohol nor tobacco.

then, to your surprise, his gaze dips downwards. it’s a listing drop, one that lingers. first on your lips, which you purse into a simper, then to your jaw, the slender column of your neck. the corner of one of his thin brows twitches.

“Go on,” you urge, your voice a sultry whisper, “touch me…”

though his countenance was an unreadable mask, you could feel the tension of an internal struggle. he wanted to, but he knew that he shouldn’t. there was something so exciting about the fact that you were his forbidden fruit. the bane sent by the devil to coerce him into lusting. “We can take it slow if it’s your first time—“

Usui reacts, whether to your words or it was just his self control giving out, and his arm outstretches, effectively quieting you in an instant as his palm envelops the the side of your neck. his skin is incredibly soft, fingers sylphlike. the delicate pad of his thumb presses against the angle of your jaw, the remaining digits splaying flat against your throat. the sudden contact has your pulse thrumming wildly beneath his fingertips and you were certain that he, too, was hyper aware of your surprise. his thumb swipes back and forth, a slow and sensual massage, against your jaw as he appraises your expression, leaning closer, until your lips instinctively part— as if expecting to be kissed. his tiers don’t meet yours; instead, they etch upwards in a gentle smile. “All too willing…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Do you want me to touch you, too? To make you feel good?” you ask, blinking once, twice, thrice. your hands, diligently attempting to pry his haori from his shoulders, only halt when he Usui shakes his head.

“No…” he says after a long pause, his hand trailing downwards. his fingertips glide smoothly across your unblemished skin, as easily as one might caress silk, until his hand disappears beneath the fabric of your kimono. he needn’t even untie the garment, the split loose and hanging open to welcome him in. his palm envelops the swell of your breast, testing the weight in his hand, the warmth and slip-side of your flesh, before his thumb brushes against your nipple, pebbling it to hard and aching in a moment. his gentle teasing coaxes a mewl from your lips, and you arch your back, as if to offer him more. more access, more of you.

“T—that feels good,” you can’t believe yourself for stuttering, as if you were some flustered, blushing schoolgirl and not the minxy courtesan you prided yourself on being.

Usui allows his smile to widen, his thumb flicking against your nipple, his eyes locking on to yours. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, dear heart,” as he paused, his grip on your breast tightened ever-slightly, kneading the sensitive flesh, “show me just how good I’m making you feel.”

your eyelids flutter; your hands move without your consent, fleeing to seek comfort and warmth beneath your kimono, in the sticky heat nestled at the apex of your thighs. your moan seeps out from your parted lips as honey warmed by a spring sun. “Usui-San…” you purr, pressing the delicate pads of your fingertips between your netherlips, scratching tight circles against your swelling clit. “It feels good!”

Usui seemed content with this new development, his smile remaining gentle, his touch a lover’s caress instead of the rough, hurried fucking you were used to. as if he had all of the time in the world to worship your breasts, that sentiment punctuated only further by the way his free hand now cradles your neglected swell, massaging them in slow, generous circles— in tandem with your feverish strumming. “You are so soft,” he mutters, appreciative of your silken warmth. his thumbs nudging your stiff nipples as dials to intensify your own self pleasure. “Do the men that purchase you also think so? Do they see your skin as warm silk? Do they treat you like the living treasure that I believe you to be?”

you shake your head. you knew you shouldn’t speak ill of your clientele, but none had dared to touch you as genteel as Usui. your fingers worked more fervently, pinching your needy clit between them as you work yourself over, your skirt tenting and flapping with the furious movements of your ministrations. “N—no, they don’t…” you could already feel the pooling in your lower belly, a slow warmth spreading through your midsection as you fast approached your climax.

Usui’s eyes softened, but his vice-like grip doesn’t. using both of his hands, he squeezes the supple skin, squishing your breasts together to admire the way the flesh molds to his hands, spilling out from between his clenched fingers. “Then they’re foolish,” he murmurs, matter-of-factly.

you moan his name softly, your eyes ( though heavily lidded ) flicker down to see a subtle bulge forming at his groin. the thought of this holy man getting hard just by groping your tits sends a fluttering of butterfly wings in your stomach, “Let me touch you,” you repeat softly, this time begging for the chance to get your hands, your mouth, your cunt around his cock. “Please…”

Usui chuckled, and it’s a warm and dizzying that echos in your ear, amplified by the thick, tense air between the two of you. “Your hands are too busy,” he insisted, leaning closer to allow the curve of his lip to tickle the shell of your ear. his body was close enough to share warmth with you, and you could sense the hard planes of him, lingering, though not pressed to you. he was right, of course, your hands were working between your legs, one on your mound, using your first two fingers to spread your slick lips, whilst the other plays a needy chord against your button. your eyes yearn to cross, overwhelmed by the way your orgasm creeps up and takes hold of you when he’s so close, almost as if he’s conjured it himself. “This is enough for me,” he whispers. each syllable crisp and wanton in your ear, “to experience pleasure. Your true pleasure, radiating off of you in waves as you build your own euphoria, one brick at a time.”

whether Usui knew it or not ( and you were all but certain he did ), his sensual caresses and little whispers of encouragement acted as the adhesive that cemented those bricks of pleasure in place. you found yourself an eager, trembling mess, breathlessly begging your own self for release by the time you finally find it. you’re wetter than any other man has ever made you before, the evidence clear as your fingers delved downwards, two of them attempting to plug the leaking hole, but you only make a bigger mess of your fingers and the sheets beneath you. your hips rock against your own hand, riding out your orgasm, impaled on your own fingers instead of on Usui’s cock, but it doesn’t matter. not even in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you could feel so alive. so thoroughly possessed by nirvana itself. “F— fuck,” you whimper, flustered, as your hips stutter and twitch, your sex throbbing, but your ministrations had slowed down drastically. your riding melding into a lazy rub, your eyes rolling behind closed lids. you tilt your head back, baring your neck to Usui, but he doesn’t kiss it, not even when presented it with it so trusting. the tip of his nose brushes against your pulse point, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume cocktailing with the musky aroma of your perspiration and arousal. your tongue traces your lips, before you press them together tight enough to encourage a bit of swelling later, muffling another happy moan against your lips as you jut your hips upwards one more time, plunging your fingers deeply before pulling them out. “T-that…”

finally, after several moments of heavy silence, your eyes open, and you blink a couple of times to rid your vision of the blurriness accumulated, to find Usui leaning back on his haunches, his hands having left your clothes. your kimono disheveled, your breasts spill out in an obscene visage, but you make no attempt to cover your indecency. his expression was unnervingly neutral, as if he hadn’t just fondled you into bliss. you can’t help yourself— your eyes seek his groin again, surprised to see a small, damp patch against the fabric, but the fact that your pleasure had also brought him some as well had you smiling. it was a dazed, goofy smile, but a smile nonetheless.

however, only a moment passed before Usui found his footing, swiftly directed towards the sliding door.

“Wait!” you call, sitting up straighter, waving a hand towards him as if to grab at his clothes, though he was already out of arm’s reach. “Mr. Isarizawa said that I’m not allowed to leave this room until I’ve ridden you.” you murmur, slinking closer on your hands and knees.