suguru manspreads on the living room couch, leaving whatever cheap flick playing long forgotten. he watches you intently, unblinking as you lick a wide and long stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.

your left hand wraps comfortably around at his hilt, while you work his tip. he moans a quiet, “fuck” under his breath. the lounge shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide his sharp light breaths.

“so fuckin’ good, so -ngh, good,” he quietly praises. you’re taking him midway, and he’s nearly close to finishing. but what is it that they say about going out with a bang? his slender pale digits find purchase in your scalp, allowing him to control your movements.

he stills your head, slowly beginning to raise his hips into your mouth, letting your nose rest at his stubble. with each thrust he feels you swirling your tongue on the underside of his cock. it feels good as is, but what is a man without greed?

he stands up from the couch, now stood before you while you’re still on your knees. he grabs the back of your head and begins thrusting into your mouth. “i love the way you feel wrapped- ngh, wrapped around me, a fuckin’ pro,” he softly compliments. the wet squelching of the collection of saliva coming in contact with his girthy cock nearly makes him cum on the spot, but he doesn’t. he wants to milk this moment for all it’s worth, as do you.

with each careless thrust, the tip of his cock reaches past your uvula and down your tight throat. the otherwise quiet room gets filled with noises of gagging and slapping — in which he’d be a liar of he said it didn’t turn him on.

if there was one thing that was guaranteed about toji fushiguro — it was good dick, and he knew it too. he was quite cocky about it actually — no pun intended.

not only was his hips experienced, so were his hands. i mean what do you expect from a guy who does odd jobs for cash.

your back is to his chest, legs in between his as he roughly fucks into you from behind. toji is nothing if not an opportunist, the strong bicep he has wrapped around your neck helps lift you up and gives him good leverage to fuck you like he wants all while midair.

his other calloused hand is on your waist, pulling you into each thrust. “droolin’ already doll? ‘nd im not even halfway done with ya,” the raven haired male taunts. there’s no escape, you can only reach back and grip his thighs, and your nails leave behind 10 crescent moon indented scars as evidence. “you like how good daddy fucks you, huh?” he whispers meanly in your ear, “takin’ it like the good little slut you are.”

your jaw falls slack, unable to control any particular muscle due to the continuous serges of stimulation. with each thrust the length of his veiny cock is swallowed by the warmth of your insides. man, who knew old men had such stamina?

loud plaps can be heard each time your soft ass comes into contact with satorus hips. one of his larger hands firmly secure yours to your back as he harshly ruts into you. his other hand occupied with his phone in an unmoving position.

the bright flash of his camera phone vastly contrasts with the pure darkness of the rest of the room. his cerulean eyes glued to his phone, watching as it captures you in all of your glory. “your takin’ me so fuckin’ good baby,” he says with a seductive tone. though only muffled pleas and moans can be heard from your party.

he momentarily lets your arms go, placing his free hand to your back and pushing down — accentuating a deeper arch. “you like when i fuck you like this baby? y’ like when i fuck you stupid?” he asks, expecting an answer.

you can only babble, unable to form proper words. you give up completely til a sharp smack! lands across your ass cheek. bringing new warmth to your bottom “i asked you a question,” he says, as each word warns a deeper stroke.

it’s not every night that satoru allows him to indulge in his lustful urges — he believes it’s below him. yet, here he is. muscles threatening to escape from the black tee that has them concealed.

he has his rock hard cock in hand — painfully hard now, it’s shameful. his angry red leaking tip prodding gently against your hole, pushing through the tight ring of resistance til he feels your full heat around him.

his cerulean blue eyes peer into your warm ones. he leans closer, allowing a single arm finds its way to your bare neck while the other supports his weight.

he’s rocking into your pulsing heat at a steady pace, headboard hitting the wall in a rocky rhythm. the silver chain that adorns his neck glimmers in the moon lit room, drawing your attention. it hangs in your face, moving at the same rough manner of it’s owner.

the room fills with soft moans and grunts, showcasing the pleasure from received from both parties. he leans in for a passionate kiss, and when he pulls away the chain hangs lower, hitting your face in tandem with each deep stroke.

“you like that, hmm? like it when i fuck you like you deserve?” he has that trademark cheeky smile on his face, shamelessly yet lovingly staring at your blissed out expression.

but if there’s one thing that he could be counted on to do — it was giving good dick. it wasn’t guaranteed that you’d seem him often but god, did you know for sure that he’d make you cum.

his expert touch aided in helping you become undone each time. “always so good f’me — always takin’ what i give ya,” he states, though both parties too far on cloud nine to really register words.

“i fucking love you— i love your body, i — fuck,, i love the way you wrap around me baby, love the way you take me,” he babbles, to drunk off you to put any further thought in his words. did he love you? you’d never know for sure. it was just sex talk after all.

he’s finally taps out, pulling out of your heat with a wet pop and cuddling next to you while you both fade out of consciousness. though you’ll never know how he manages to sneak away each time before you wake—

“dick so good i got you cryin’ baby?” he asks again, though it’s more of a rhetoric, seeing that you can hardly find the will to respond. merely letting out inconspicuous whines and babbles. satoru loves it when you’re like this, a cute mess on his cock — with pretty tears streaming down your face.

his hips meet the fat of your ass at a rough pace, having yet to falter. satoru throughly enjoyed having you like this, giving you no other choice than to take it.

“fuckkk— you take it so good baby,” he compliments. while his free hand gropes the meat of your ass, pulling you even more into his thrusts.

if he wasn’t overhearing phone calls of you whining to your best friend, it was your faux moans he heard through the walls as your lame boyfriend fucked you into the mattress. and as much as he hated to admit it, he often found his hand trailing down to his bulge, freeing himself from his drawers and palming his cock. slowing rubbing his thumb swiftly over his tip, using his own pre-cum as lube in addition to his spit.

he hated to admit how much of a chokehold you had on him. he’s in his bed now, halfway sitting up against his head board as he stroked himself to the loud rhythm of your ass cheeks reverberating off of your boyfriends’ hips.

he couldn’t help but think of how pliant you would be under his hold, soft grunts leave his mouth as he pictures how he’d coax genuine moans out of you, not the fake pornographic ones you muster out now for your boyfriend.

never in a million years did you think that being being his TA came with being his daily stress relief. i mean sure, he was hot but this was just unethical! “this isn’t right~ i’ll - fuck— i’ll report you!” you squeal out, your hands supporting your full weight as he fucked you into his desk.

“baby, and just what do you think that’ll do?” he confidently taunts, “do you want to graduate? or do you want me to make sure you never step foot inside a university again?” he threatens. he now has your back to his chest, whispering devilishly into your ear while still continuing to thrust. “i didn’t think so, now keep taking it— so fucking good,” he breathes heavily, his pace never faltering.

maybe he’d be more willing if each time it resulted in having you sprawled out on god knows who bed while suguru took your mouth and satoru took your hole. “fuck suguru, i can see your bulge through that tight little throat,” satoru says with a cheeky grin, while ruthlessly rutting into your warmth, disregarding his vulgarity as if he’s just asking for tomorrows weather. “just shut up and fuck ‘em satoru,” the raven haired male says, hovering over you.

they have you laid out on your back, neck hanging over the bed for suguru’s easy access and satoru on his knees, on the bed with your lower half. “such a fucking cock hungry slut, takin’ both me and my best friend,” satoru teases while leaning to toy with one of your nipples.

suguru tunes out his blue eyed companion while he focuses on chasing his own release. one of his hands grip your throat, allowing him to feel his cock slide in and out your throat while the other holds up his shirt so he can take in the full view.

your nails dug greedily in his back, ensuring marks to be left. "wanna hear you moan my name baby," the burly male purs, "its toji."

i mean sure, it was compromising giving his name, and no — he's never done it before. but fuck you felt too good wrapped around his cock for him to care. "fuck- toji! fuck," your hands now tightly grip the sheets while you moan out his name like a mantra.

"takin' it so good for me huh, gettin' all fucked out on some strangers' cock," he went on, one hand holding him up steady while the other one tread up to your throat. you nod vigorously while moaning sensual "mhms," so blissed out, you’d probably agree to tattoo his name on your forehead if he asked nicely.