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planetaryupscaled · 5 months ago

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Disenchanted 4: Pump & Dump

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 7k, anal, blackmail, cheating, creampie, dp, foursome, oral

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

It took a couple of days for the gravity of our meeting with Yeonjun and Hajoon to sink in. The notion of it all was earth shattering, the fact that both Karina and I were being held to ransom by two people I once believed to be trustworthy.

Yeonjun especially, was someone I thought I could rely on; it was painful to see how the situation unfolded, like a car crash in slow motion, with both our reputations and careers hanging by a thread. He had shown his true colors that day; his opportunistic vulture-like characteristics had emerged, and he was determined to reap the benefits.

In the cold light of day, I couldn’t say I blamed him. Just…there’s this part of me that wishes they would not stoop to such lows just to spend one night with Karina, but who am I to judge? I was sleeping with a married woman while simultaneously having drinks with her down trodden husband. Perhaps this was my comeuppance, my payment coming home to roost, my punishment.

Despite my misfortunes, it was Karina I really felt for. I could tell the impending meet up with Hajoon and his little stooge was weighing heavy on her mind. The way she had lost that spring in her step, her usual commanding confidence was being whittled down, day by day in silent trepidation about what was to come. Karina and I spoke for hours on the phone and in person to try and figure out a way to stop this, to find another solution to come back to the table and bargain our way out. It was all in vain, they had us up against the wall, cornered with nowhere to go.

—

The air was thick that night, humid and muggy, almost as if the weight of what was about to happen was in the atmosphere. I looked at Karina as we drove up to the Hajoon residence, clutching her hand as we left the city.

“We don’t have to do this...” I said, my voice calm and controlled.

She looked gently into my eyes, bringing my hand to her lips.

“It’s ok, we have come too far to get our lives ruined by some preppy junior marketer and an old fart.” She said, her voice laced with spite.

“Seriously…Karina, I can turn back- and...” I started.

“Runaway together?” She finished, leaning over to kiss my lips.

“Thats sweet...it really is...and I love that you want to protect me even though it will end up in your career blowing up in the process...but we have to do this, I have to do this.” Karina replied.

Her determination and ruthless business woman side coming to the fore, she was seeing this as a transaction, nothing more nothing less, a necessary means to an end.

“You love...” I started, looking over at her pretty face.

She smiled, blushing momentarily before looking over at me.

“Yes...I love you.” She spoke, kissing me once more.

“Don’t- you don’t have...” She began.

“I love you too...” I replied, a warm smile overcoming my face.

Karina smiled affectionately, running her hand across my arm before kissing my cheek.

“What?” I asked playfully.

“It’s just...those words, this admission is a big thing, yet here we are making our way to a car crash of an evening.” She said solemnly.

I shook my head in disgust, reassuring her that everything would work out, that everything would be ok. There was silence in the car for a few minutes as we neared our destination before Karina spoke out again.

“You know it’s funny...every time I’m with Jaewook...I find myself closing my eyes and thinking of you. It makes it go faster, it’s better that way. But now you are here, with me...” She said smiling, grabbing a crystal decanter out her bag.

“Just keep your eyes on me, the whole night. We will get through this.” I replied kissing her once more.

“Is that 20-year-old Jaewook’s?” I asked with a smirk.

“He’s gonna be pissed!” I said.

“No babe, it’s me that’s gonna get pissed.” Karina replied.

“I want to remember as little as I can of what goes down tonight.” She said, taking a swig from the bottle.

We pulled up at the gates, the iron structure parting slowly like a lair to an evil dictatorships base camp. The driveway was illuminated with spotlights leading up to an impressive looking, stone mansion. Situated just outside the city, Hajoon looked like he had acres of land, stretching as far as the eye could see as the sun began to set.

“You ready?” I asked Karina, my voice as calm as it could have been, given the circumstances.

Karina nodded, smiling and getting out the car ironically dressed in the same short black dress she was wearing the night I felt her up on the phone to her husband all those months ago. Her bronze skin glowed with sexiness as the sunlight hit her skin, striding confidently up the marble steps and knocking on the front door.

Naturally it was not Hajoon who answered, but a maid, offering us a drink and requesting we follow her up the grand staircase. The house was more modern looking inside than I had first envisaged, family portraits of past “Hajoon’s” lined the walls, illuminated by lights to give a dramatic welcome into the house.

“God, they love themselves don’t they.” I whispered under my breath.

“Do you think they are all cocks?” I followed up.

“Minho!” Karina replied quietly.

“Probably.” She continued, laughing into her palm.

I could see the alcohol slowly sinking in, her tipsiness was getting a little stronger as she took another hit of whisky before we arrived at two large doors. The maid knocked twice, before being asked to come in with Hajoon dressed in a pinstripe suit together with Yeonjun already prepped in a bath robe. He made me sick, I could have thrown him off the balcony right there and then.

“Glad you could make it.” Hajoon said, surveying Karina’s tight frame.

“You look...amazing tonight, as always Karina.” He said, taking a sip of wine.

“I would offer you a drink, but it seems you already have that taken care of.” He said smiling.

“Let’s get this over with.” Karina retorted, motioning to the mobile phone on the table.

“Na ah, I will delete once this is over.” Yeonjun said cooly.

“No, you delete it now.” Karina replied, standing firm.

“She will keep her word.” Hajoon replied, motioning for Yeonjun to do what he was asked.

Like a pawn he yielded, showing us the phone and deleting the video, pictures and anything else associated with that day.

“I suppose there is no cloud back up either?” I asked.

“There is none.” Hajoon replied.

A manipulative old fool he maybe, but a liar he was not.

“Shall we begin?” Hajoon asked, handing Karina a contract.

It was the transfer of his shares once he retired, going fully over to Karina. I quick squiggle and it was done, now the hard part.

“A few conditions.” Karina said confidently.

“Go on...” Hajoon said intrigued.

“No kissing on my lips under any circumstances and I do not and shall not swallow.” She said.

“After tonight, this is it, this is the only time you will be able to have me.” She followed up sharply.

The two just nodded, agreeing with the terms and walked forward, their eyes lighting up with desire as Karina backed herself onto me.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Yeah...”

Karina pressed her rear onto my crotch grinding her body against my chest. I had to admit, my trepidation and even jealousy of having to share her with these two vile people was becoming slowly overturned with lust. Feeling Karina rock her hips against mine gave me instant wood as she widened her stance, showing off her toned, pale legs in all its glory before knocking back one another shot of whiskey.

“Cum in me first.” She whispered, grinding deeper into my crotch as I drifted my hands under her dress.

She was moist, almost too moist as I felt her cream leak through her silky underwear, the grool from her pussy forming strands on my fingertips the moment I pierced her cunt.

“Unghh...” Karina moaned quietly, beckoning the other two to walk forward.

I could see her eyes in the mirror locked on mine, egging me on to keep going, to please her. I did exactly that, slipping my hand between her panties and rubbing decisively at her throbbing clit. The moisture emanating from her pussy was overwhelming as I use my left hand to penetrate her folds while the other pinched at her tender clit and played with her slick labia. Karina eased herself over as Hajoon and Yeonjun stepped forward eagerly awaiting their turn. The sound of the Hajoon’s zipper being draw down was strangely erotic as the old man popped a blue pill, no doubt viagra as his cock slowly sprang to life. Yeonjun was now undressing, cupping Karina’s face as she grasped his exposed dick along with Hajoon’s gently jerking their shafts. I could see the pleasure coursing through their bodies as Karina encircled both of their slits with her thumb, pressing down gently while continuing to pump their dicks in her delicate hands, fisting their meat till both men started to dribble pre cum from their tips.

“Suck...” Hajoon said, running his fingers through her hair.

Karina looked back at me, nodding for me to ramp it up as I dragged my tip along the outside of her slit, her juices coating my crown in a delectable, warm sticky fluid before I thrusted forward, penetrating her sex with force, pushing her mouth onto Hajoon’s length while she held Yeonjun’s twitching cock in her other hand.

“Uhmm...mmh...mmm...” Karina moaned, her lips humming around the old man’s meat.

I watched in awe as she used her lips to pleasure his cock, coating him in her saliva whilst he used her mouth. Hajoon started rocking his hips, gripping her head softly while she fed on his dock, her right hand shifting to his sack while she continued to jerking Yeonjun.

“That’s a good girl, just like that.” Hajoon said, while Karina painted his shaft with spittle.

With a few more bobs of her head, she released him from her mouth, leaning back onto me and kissing me on the lips as I sucked on her exposed tongue. My cock was buried right up inside her married cunt, tensing and flexing inside her womb as my tip smashed up against her cervix. Unzipping the back of her dress, the fabric dropped to the floor, her sexiness exposed at last while I attacked her sex with my meat, slipping my thumb inside her ass and gripping her hips for leverage while I ploughed inside her slippery pussy.

“Minho- Minho...cum... cum inside me...” Karina chanted.

Her walls were milking my shaft at an alarming rate as I saw Yeonjun lose patience, grabbing Karina by her hair and easing her lips onto his cock. She took him no problem, sucking down on his cock with reckless abandon as he rolled his head back in pleasure.

“Fuckk...Karina...” He moaned.

Her mouth was in overdrive as I fucked her from behind, raising her right leg to spear her cunt deeper as Yeonjun and I spit roasted the mother of three. She was close, convulsing on my lap as I pumped more of my cock into her twitching slit, watching her feed on Yeonjun as he held her face and forced all of his dick into her warm mouth.

“Mmhh...nghh…mmhh.” Karina moaned around his meat as her legs started to buckle.

“Gluck...gluckk...gluckk...” Were the sounds of Karina’s mouth, Yeonjun clearly brushing her tonsils as her eyes started to well up.

Yeonjun and I held her in place, our thrusting, slamming ever deeper into her, stuffing her with cock at both ends as the inevitable came to fruition. I came first, my balls churning as I felt Karina shudder in my grasp, her pussy clamping down on my shaft as she climaxed hard on my meat. My balls churned wildly, as I unloaded inside her fertile cunt, spraying my seed into her womb as I pumped her full of my cum, thrusting hard into her wanting cunt like a wild animal. Yeonjun followed, almost immediately after, twitching uncontrollably as he unloaded deep inside her mouth, his seed dribbling from the corners of her lips as she worked his cock with her soft tongue. We were filling her up on both ends, pumping our sperm into her mouth and pussy all at once which she took without complaint, moaning around Yeonjun’s cock as she finally released him, opening her mouth and letting his cum fall out of her in its entirety, forming a milky puddle on the tiles. This sordid scene appeared to have set Hajoon off who was avidly jerking his veiny cock beside her, grabbing Karina by the back of the head and pointing his tip at her forehead.

“Ouhhh...Karina...” The old man moaned, sighing loudly as he unloaded on her face.

He painted her perfect lips and nose with his globulous load, thick and stringy in appearance as spurt after spurt flowed onto Karina’s face, creaming her skin in a translucent film of spunk. I t was like a scene from a porn as the four of us stood panting heavily, my cock still buried inside Karina as I gripped her hips to balance her uneasy legs.

“The bed...lets go to the bed.” Hajoon said out of breath.

The Viagra must have done the trick as his cock was as still as hard as ever, twitching in anticipation of what was to come. Karina took another hit of whiskey after wiping her face clean with a towel, the taste of salt and sperm now replaced with alcohol.

“You ok?” I asked, kissing her on the cheek.

Karina smiled, drunken and dazed, a lusty glaze in her eyes, one I was well accustomed to by now as she kissed me passionately on the lips, sucking on my tongue as she whispered in my ear.

“I... want...you...in my mouth.” She said softly, pulling me by my cock and lying on her side.

Without hesitation, Karina took my soft dick between her lips and started to suck. Her lips covering every inch of my shaft as she used her soft hands to gently palm and squeeze at my sack. It didn’t take long to reach full mast again as I held her by the face and gently pumped my cock into her moist mouth.

“Fucknggh…nghh...mmhh” Karina , screamed, wincing her eyes.

Hajoon had rammed his fat cock deep inside her pussy as she lay on her side. Her legs were bunched up in the Fetal position as he aggressively attacked her cunt with his dick, stuffing her with his meat repeatedly. The sounds of his hip slapping against her ass were brutal as Karina tried her best to concentrate her sucks on my cock. Her lips feebly wrapping around my shaft as Hajoon fucked her hard from the other side. It was something that set me off, the sound of flesh smashing together that triggered my inner animal. I gripped her face, looking her deep in the eyes as forced my twitching cock into her throat. I was using her face as my personal pleasure hole, skull fucking the married woman as I felt her lips clamp on my cock hard. Karina was shaking, Hajoon had hit the right spot grinding his hips as he buried his cock inside her cunt unloading his seed into her pussy.

“Grrhh...that’s right Karina, good girl, take it, take it all.” Hajoon grunted, pumping her cunt one last time as he fucked my cum out of her cunt and replaced it with his own.

Karina was a mess, a cum dazed mess as saliva dribbled down the side of her lips, spunk now leaking profusely out her slit as she rolled over onto her back. Yeonjun was eying her like a tiger, shifting his weight forward as he caressed her sticky thighs.

“Open...open your legs, Karina.” He whispered in her ear, licking the length of her neck.

She was too lust drunk to even protest as she spread her thighs for him, inviting Yeonjun to penetrate her well fucked pussy. He did just that, thrusting hard and deep into her pussy as his cock bottomed out inside the married woman. Grinding his hips, I was sure his tip was rubbing up against her cervix as Karina hung her head off the side of the bed.

“Unghhh...oh...ohhh...goddd...” She screamed, her arms clawing at my thighs.

“Is that all you have...? fuck me like you mean it you pussy!” She yelled at Yeonjun.

It set him off, as he gritted his teeth, his hips in overdrive as he fucked her like a bunny rabbit, grasping at her pert breasts while ramming his meat up inside her silky pussy. I could see her cream encapsulate his cock, Yeonjun’s balls slapping her pristine pussy lips.

“Take it...is...this...what...you...want...” He growled slamming her over and over again.

“Unghh...nghhh...Minho- Minho please...” She pleaded, opening her mouth and extending her tongue.

I rushed forward, supporting her head in my hands as I eased my cock between her lips once more. Squatting down I pumped my cock into her gullet, using her mouth like a glory hole as I felt her lips sheath my shaft, spit drooling at the sides of her mouth while my balls slapped up against her forehead.

“Take it...fucking...take…it...” I yelled, losing control.

Karina scratched at my inner thighs, her tongue now coating the top of my cock with spit as I began to cum. I held her face steady pumping hard and deep into her mouth as my tip exploded inside her throat, feeding her the much-needed seed she desired. Wave after wave of my cum coated her mouth, as she expertly held my base and pumped at my cock, sucking down my sperm into her stomach. Looking down, I could see her actively swallowing every last drop of cum, her throat bulging as I fuelled her mouth with my pent up salty cum.

“Agghhh...yesss...fuckkk” Yeonjun yelled, thrusting hard into Karina.

His hips were twitching, seeding her married pussy for the third time that night as we both pumped our sperm into her at both ends once more. Karina gyrated her hips, feeling the warmth of both loads enter her body as she turned to the side to suckle on my sack.

“Why do you swallow his?” Yeonjun asked.

“He...he can do whatever he wants to me.” She said breathlessly, smiling up at my face.

We stayed like this a mere minute or so before Hajoon came back into the action, slapping her ass in enthusiasm.

“I want your ass.” He said with a look of pure lust on his face.

I could not keep up at this rate so I asked for the blue pill to kick me into overdrive. The old man laughed, pointing me to the drawer as I took it down with some water. It was like a magic pill, my cock suddenly awakening, sore but absolutely rock hard. Yeonjun declined respectfully, tending to Karina’s breasts as he suckled on her nipples, sucking down hard as she rolled back in the covers in ecstasy.

Walking over I gave Karina a knowing look, grabbing her hips and flipping her over onto my lap.

“You want a ride baby?” I asked, winking at her.

Karina smiled flirtatiously, grabbing my length with her sweaty hands and grinding her sex onto me. It felt amazing being inside her warmth again, the spunk of the previous occupant leaking onto my thighs as her cunt made a squelching sound as she bottomed out on my lap. Yeonjun was standing above us, leaning on the backboard. As if on cue, she knew what to do, parting her lips and taking him into her mouth.

“Shit Karina...” Yeonjun moaned, clawing at her hair as he fed her his cock.

“Thats right Karina...bend over for me” Hajoon chimed in, pushing her mouth forward onto Yeonjun’s cock as she took him into the back of her throat.

Hajoon had a clear run at her now exposed rosebud as I pistoned in, up inside her pussy, slapping my balls up on her ass. I could feel Karina tense up the moment Hajoon entered her, her hips bucking slightly as he thrust with full force filling her asshole with his cock. All four of us found our rhythm quite quickly as I thrust my cock up inside Karina’s tight cunt, Hajoon would slide out of her anal cavity while Yeonjun would pump his cock into her throat. It was like a complicated machine made out of human body parts.

Karina’s breasts were bouncing all over the place as Hajoon gathered speed, splitting her ass open with his fat cock as he filled her anally, I could hear the slaps of flesh again and the squelch of bodily fluids emanating from between her legs. She was enjoying this, her pussy creaming all over my cock as her cunt glistened with grool.

“Nghh...mmfff...fuck...fuckk...shittt...” Karina wailed between sucks, saliva now dripping on to my face from her rapid slurps.

Her body was being stuffed with three cocks simultaneously, she was well and truly airtight. At this angle I could spear her g-spot with cock. Spreading her ass cheeks for Hajoon to violate her anus, I thrust upwards hard, grinding my hips against her clit till I felt her sacred spot with my tip. I held her here while I prodded and rubbed against her most sensitive parts, filling her womb with my meat as my cock stretched her pussy out.

“Karina...Karina...suck…keep...sucking me.” Yeonjun grunted.

I could feel myself approaching too, gripping her body close as I continued to thrust up inside her wanting cunt with my slick cock, spearing her folds with my dick as Hajoon began speed up frantically fucking her rump.

“Karinaaa…nghhh.” Hajoon groaned, gripping her hips and fucking her deep in the ass.

I could feel her lower half convulse, no doubt taking his load deep inside her anal cavity as Yeonjun followed suit, unloading wildly into her mouth while my tip exploded between her legs. All three of us were seeding her at the same time, our cums being fired into her ass, pussy and mouth together as one. Sperm flowed from her lips as she spat Yeonjun’s load out on to the pillow, a bit dribbling down her face as she pumped his straining dick on more time. Her hips gyrating slowly while my spasming cock eeked out the last drops inside her dripping well fucked pussy, creampie number four for the night.

Hajoon rolled of, slapping her rump once more before lying back on the Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Come...” He said, directing Karina to him.

“Crawl to me...” He whispered.

Karina complied, her face smeared with cum and spittle as she crawled, cum oozing from her red raw ass and well fucked pussy.

She was tired, her arms weak as she crawled across the bed on onto Hajoon’s lap, His cock was still hard, as he beat his meaty cock in his hands waiting for Karina’s mouth to engulf him. It was a highly arousing sightseeing Karina, normally the dominant one in the work environment, being tamed and compliant as she joined his hands with hers, squeezing his fleshy cock as she bent down and took him in her mouth. The sounds that came from her mouth were sexual, the way she coated him with her full lips, slathering her saliva along his shaft as her tongue travelled the length of his base till she reached his balls. Taking each orb in her mouth, Karina suckled, feeding on his sack while pumping away at his cock, now slick with spittle. Her grip was getting harder as I saw Hajoon jerk his hips, grabbing the sheets. The image of Karina’s ass was too hard to resist as I looked down at my slick cock, covered in god knows what fluids, twitching to be tagged in. As if reading my mind, Karina looked back at me, wiggling her ass as I positioned myself behind her pert rear.

“Ass up...face...down...” I said, pressing her back forward so her rear jutted out into the sweaty night air.

Karina licked her lips, looking back at me as she took Hajoon in her mouth once more.

“Mmnghh...mmhhh...” She moaned on his cock as I wasted no time.

Thrusting forward with precision, I speared her asshole with force, pushing the excess cum from her crack out all over the sheets as a new tenant occupied her anal cavity. It was a sticky affair, her tightness lubricated by someone else’s cum, Hajoon’s to be precise. It allowed me to get in and out faster, slamming my cock into her bowels as my meat stretched her out. Looking over at Yeonjun he had passed out form tonight’s sordid events.

“Pffttt Rookie...” I said under my breath as I continued to fuck Karina’s ass.

“Unghhh...ughhh...fuckkk...nghhh.” Karina wailed, releasing Hajoon’s cock from her mouth as she felt me bottom out in her shitter.

Her walls were tightening, the cum form her ass now fully excavated as I drilled her rump from behind with deliberate pumps of my cock. Hajoon was twitching like a madman, holding Karina’s head in place while his shaft started to pulse. The first spurt getting her in her eye before she recovered and took him into her mouth once more, sucking up the rest of his cum.

“Karinaa...suck...suck me...” Hajoon said breathlessly, as Karina hoovered his cock.

The meat between her lips finally going limp as she dribbled his salty seed on his lap, resting her tired face on his thighs as I neared my crescendo too. Leaning forward and rubbing at her sex with my hand we frigged her throbbing clit together, Karina and I, hand in hand as my orgasm approached. She began to shake, her voice raspy and ragged as the contractions came. Thighs trembling, Karina started creaming on my palms again, her sticky grool was everywhere as I penetrated her ass hole.

“Cumm...fucking...cummm.” Karina yelled in rapture as I exploded inside her bowels.

A warm rush of seed flooded her anal canal, coating her inside in my sticky load as my orgasm triggered hers, trembling in my arms as I violated her asshole with my cock, pumping an ever increasing amount of sperm into her anal cavity.

“Fuck…fuck...keep pumping me.” Karina said, breathing heavy as she leant back on me.

I did what she said, flexing my hips as I fed her rump the last few spurts of my twitching cock. We were all shattered, Karina no doubt the most, her limbs turned to jelly and body covered in sweat and bodily fluids. She had been filled to the brim tonight, stuffed by three men simultaneously as we pumped our seed into her tight body. Nevertheless, the sultry vixen just looked deep into my eyes, as she flicked her hair in my direction.

“Take me home Minho...” She said, kissing me softly on the lips.

—

Driving back to my place that night with the wind blowing on my face through the open window sent a much needed shock to my system. The cool morning air hit me like freight train, bringing me back to earth as I stared at Karina sleeping in the passenger seat beside me. She was absolutely wrecked, her inner thighs still smeared in god knows who’s seed, remnants from the absolute railing she had received that evening. We were relentless, not giving her a seconds rest all night, just one position after the next, unloading our cums deep inside her writhing body till she overflowed with it all, twitching in pleasure, drunk on lust.

“Hey... Karina, we are home.” I said, scooping her up and opening the front door.

There was no response aside from a light moan as we ascended the stairs setting her down softly on my bed. Sweeping her hair to the side I stood there for a moment, admiring her beauty, tracing the outlines of her hips and waist with my eyes before a sudden vibration on the bedside table pulled me back to reality. It was Jaewook, his name was flashing up on Karina’s screen. There was a moment’s hesitation where part of me wanted to answer it and tell him all about what had just happened, but I decided against it. The cruelness of it all was strangely intoxicating, knowing and doing all this behind his back as bad as it was, was never bad enough for me to stop. I wanted her and vice versa but deep down I knew something had to give, we could not keep this secret from Jaewook for much longer.

—

“Morning sleepy head.” Karina said, dancing her fingers along my forehead.

“Uhmm...hey...you.” I replied, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight.

“How are you feeling...?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“OK...a little stretched you could say.” She replied playfully slapping my arm.

Karina had changed into a silky purple nightie, most probably after I passed out from the warm shower before bed. Studying her pale legs over the cotton sheets, I could still see the hand prints on her exposed thigh, most probably from Hajoon who really went for it that night.

“Mmmm...look what that old guy did?” Karina said, noticing the shock on my face after seeing the marks.

“Yes...we really did a number on you last night...” I replied sheepishly.

“Yes...you did...” She replied, blushing slightly as she covered up her legs under the sheets.

“Listen...about last...” I started, my voice laced in guilt seeing what she had to go through just to save my skin.

I had to admit I enjoyed it last night, it was raw, uncut pure sex. It was unlike anything I had ever done or likely ever to do again, but it came at a price. Karina and her dignity, one she once proudly wore had taken a battering that night. It was strange to think that the days leading up to it all, we both were fraught in trepidation, yet once we were in the moment, it somehow felt liberating.

“It’s ok...” She said, her eyes fixed on mine.

“Truth be told...I...” Karina stuttered slightly.

I knew what she was going to say, I could read it on her face last night, as we locked eyes and I flooded her womb for the nth time.

“You...” I said slowly.

“Liked...it...” She let out with a sigh.

Her face blew up in a bright red color as she registered what she had just said. My smile was telling, almost mocking her, to which she just hit my arm lightly and kissed me on the lips. I had a feeling that this was the case, her body betrayed her, face wincing in pleasure with each spear of cock, each flood of her chamber brought about a renewed sense of satisfaction on her face. I could tell by the way we fucked last night, it was passionate, feral, right.

“Not all of it.” She said, trying to backtrack her previous revelation.

“Really...?” I said smirking.

“Well, yes...no... I mean...I liked the feeling of being pleasured...and filled over and over again.” Karina said, her eyes glazing over like she was remembering the best parts of last night.

“I can’t explain it...it almost didn’t matter that Hajoon and Yeonjun were there...they were just props...what was important was that you were there...it’s almost like our connection hit another level...you know?” She mused.

“Primal...” I replied.

“That’s the word!” She replied, smirking before kissing me lightly on the lips.

“Well...do you want to...” I began.

“Let’s not push your luck Mister.” She said sharply, before turning to check her phone.

There was something else, I could sense it, the way she flicked her phone off and turned to me told me it was something about Jaewook. It had come to pass that the married couple had had a deep talk while I was asleep, deciding what the next steps were in their marriage. Karina had all but thrown in the towel to the protests of Jaewook who was still clinging onto a small thread of hope. They were both due to go to some camping trip to later on in that week to try and “heal” she put it while rolling her eyes. It was your standard last chance saloon talks that you hear about a hundred times over, the only difference was the last part. I was invited to this healing session.

It came to light that Jaewook’s fix that we spoke about regarding spicing things up had really gone to his head. In his desperation, he had put forward an idea to Karina of a potential threesome. Upon hearing this I burst out laughing, like I was an episode of punked or something. Karina’s eyes remained resolute, to the point that my laughter faded into thin air.

“Ok...what...you...him...I’m sorry...what?” I replied, absolutely flummoxed.

“Hold on big boy, a minute ago you were all like, let’s do this again.” Karina said mockingly.

“Yeah, that was...this...this is weird as fuck!” I replied.

“Well, it is and it isn’t, some of my girlfriends have done some suspect things in their time with their hubby.” Karina said smiling knowingly.

“But what about your lack of feelings for...” I started.

“That still stands...” Karina said coldly.

“So, this thing, he’ll thinks this will save your marriage...it...” I replied

“Won’t.” Karina interjected.

“But you still want to...” I followed up tentatively.

“Yes...” She said with a devilish grin.

“That’s cold Rina.” I said.

“Please...don’t give me that. Besides, I told him already that I would ask you this as a favor in exchange to further your career.” She replied matter of factly.

“I want- this...you...” Karina said, her voice trailing off, as her eyes took over.

“And what if I refuse.” I said with an empty threat.

Her look spoke a thousand words as she lay back down beside me, her eyes trailing my lower half of my body. I had already agreed to this fucked up threesome without saying anything and she knew it.

“Morning pump and dump?” Karina asked seductively, bribing me with her body as she unclasped her bra from under her nighty and threw it in my face.

“You are outrageous...” I replied, taking her tongue between my lips as we kissed passionately.

My hands roamed her tight frame, squeezing softly at her pert breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers as I positioned my hips between her bronze thighs.

“Show me what you got...” Karina said, biting my ear and pulling me close for another deep kiss.

We were well versed in this now, our bodies moved as one as I thrust forward without much thought, my cock piercing her wet folds in one slick movement as she welcomed my dick inside her moist cunt. The slickness of her folds creaming all over my shaft was something I was accustomed too, every inch of her pussy had been explored by my straining cock, my mouth, fingers and anything else I could fuck her with.

“God...you...stretch me out...so...good...” Karina moaned into my ear as I bottomed out inside her luscious cavern.

Her pink walls hugged at my meat, coaxing out pearls of precum from my crown as I smashed her cervix with my tip, stuffing the housewife with my cock, feeling the stretch of her cunt muscles as I penetrated her slick sex.

“Unghhh...mnghhh...yes...yesss...” Karina wailed.

My balls were slapping up against her ass as I felt her grool slather my shaft each time I pumped more of my dick into her tight womanly cunt, feeding her pussy all of my meat as I rubbed tirelessly at her throbbing clit. The stickiness of her thighs was growing, strands of her sexual juices now smearing against my hips as I whipped her legs over my shoulders and railed Karina into the mattress with my cock. Each stroke fucking her long and deep, filling her married cunt with cock as she clawed at my face, mewing at each penetrative thrust of my hips.

“Baby...baby...keep- keep...going...” Karina chanted.

Sweat was pouring from my face, dripping onto her outstretched tongue as she lapped up my salty beads of perspiration, licking up my neck as I ground my hips into her mound, burying my cock inside her pussy. The feeling of her cunt contracting around my shaft was a telling sign as Karina got up on all fours and pushed me on my back. Staring at the sultry married woman, she stalked me like a lioness, licking her lips as she crawled towards me.

“I want you...to pump me…full of your essence...” Karina whispered, taking my cock between her lips and sucking hard on my turgid member.

The housewife dipped her head low, taking my meat into the back of her throat as her excess spit leaked from the sides of her mouth. I was twitching between her lips, close to completion, I knew she wanted me to release inside her, but where was up to her. Karina kept sucking, slurping on my shaft like an ice lolly as she worked the underside of my cock with her tongue, smearing me with her warm saliva.

“Gluck...gluckk...gluckk...” Were the sounds from her mouth, her eyes watering as I held her face and began to thrust.

My balls slapped up against her chin as I penetrated her mouth with my cock, tapping her tonsils as Karina’s mouth was stuffed with my meat. Holding her hair back to let me see her suck me off with no hands, I guided her face to the exact depth I wanted, rolling my hips to feed her more dick between her soft pink lips.

“Karina...Baby I’m close...” I moaned, my eyes were straining to hold it together before she popped me free from her mouth and squeezed hard on my shaft, preventing me from exploding.

My balls ached at being denied, moments before release and she knew it, smiling cheekily at me, her face covered in a thin sheen of sweat and sex.

“Remember what I said...Pump...and...dump.” She whispered, wiggling her tight rear in my face as she licked her lips and bent over on all fours.

Who was this woman? The sexual encounter from last night had unleashed something deep within her, a ravenous goddess that had to be satiated, and satiate I would, whatever it took.

Grabbing her roughly by the hips I thrusted forwards, impaling the brunette on my length as I penetrated her sex from the rear. Her wetness was obvious, grool dribbling down the sides of her thighs as our flesh connected with a resounding slap. The grunting emanating from her lips as I pounded her pussy from behind was music to my ears as I felt the tightness of her cunt mold around my shaft, sucking me off each time I fucked my slick cock into her tight cunt.

“Unghhh...nghhh...fuckk- do it...dump...it- dump it… inside...of...me...” Karina screamed in rapture.

The aggression of my pumps was showing on her rear, fucked red and raw as I slapped her tight ass a few times while stretching her out.

I could feel her pussy start to get tighter, her walls were closing in on me as I smashed up against her cervix with my tip a few more times, pinching at her clitoris with my fingers as I desperately stuffed her married cunt with my cock.

“Karina...fuckk...” I moaned into her ear.

She was bucking her hips, her legs trembling as I felt her orgasm hit, squeezing at my shaft with a ravenous appetite as I continued to pump my hips, lifting one leg up to smash her cunt hard and deep.

“Unghhh...pump...me...I want...it, all...of...it...” Karina wailed as her climax continued through my strokes.

It was the final straw, seeing her scream and wail into the covers set me off as I erupted from the tip just as I bottomed out inside her tight cunt. The force of my climax, pumping a torrent of cream inside her marital pussy, feeding her uterus with my milky sperm as I painted her womb white with my sticky seed.

“That’s it...Baby...” Karina, said looking back, gyrating her hips as I fed her more of my pent up cum.

She was overflowing from her pink slit, yet I continued to thrust, stuffing her tight cunt with my twitching meat, forcing my warm sticky semen deep into her womb as Karina collapsed onto the pillow while I was still imbedded within her.

“Don’t- don’t...stop...” Karina whispered breathlessly as I continued to empty myself inside her pussy, flexing my hips to get every ounce of cums inside her.

We stayed, locked in this mating ritual for a good ten minutes before I disengaged with a slurp, the remnants of my seed flowing out of her moist slit almost immediately as the sultry housewife turned towards me.

“Are you still in two minds about that getaway?” She said raising her eyebrows.

“Just give me the time and the place...” I said, breathlessly, slapping her ass one last time.

#karina smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

946 notes · View notes

mysteria157 · 4 months ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Doggystyle, Fingering, Oral (m! receiving)…

WC: ~10k (grab your snacks)

Summary:

Nanami runs into a problem that every man dreads.

Now, you find yourself navigating the treacherous waters of his bruised ego and growing hysteria, armed with nothing but your unwavering love and a seemingly endless supply of patience, as you try to help him overcome this unexpected hurdle.

Notes: Hello! Trying to get back into the swing of writing again after so many weeks on a break and naturally Nanami is who I gravitate towards. I thought this one shot would be a funny idea, and as someone once told me, I wrote this with “my c*it on the keyboard.”

Please do not ask me for more related to this story. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

“Fuck, Kento,” you breathe, fingers digging into the satin of the pillow case beneath your head.

The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp bathes your intertwined bodies in a honeyed light, casting shadows that dance across your rich brown skin. Nanami’s lips, hot and insistent, trail a path of fire down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive hollow of your throat. He drags his teeth along your clavicle, brushes his lips between the skin of your breasts. A breathy moan escapes you as his tongue traces lazy, deliberate circles around an already-sensitive nipple, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

His hands, strong and sure, yet infinitely gentle, knead the soft flesh behind your knees, coaxing your legs to open wider, allowing him to sink deeper into the welcoming heat of your body. The blunt head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you with each measured thrust, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently begging for more.

Your hair, messy from his fingers, frames your face in a splatter of curls, some clinging to the sheen of sweat on your cheeks. The sight of you like this—open, wanting, completely his—nearly steals the breath from his lungs and makes him double down his efforts.

It’s been weeks since you’ve had this. Weeks of Kento stumbling home late from working overtime, collapsing into bed still fully clothed. Weeks of missed connections, family obligations, and movie nights cut short with you both passing out on the couch. But tonight, finally, you have each other, free from the demands of the world outside.

As Nanami moves within you, his honey-wheat hair, usually so perfectly styled, falls in soft, tousled waves across his forehead, clinging to the perspiration that glistens on his brow. The strong line of his jaw is taut with concentration, a muscle jumping beneath the skin in a way that makes your fingers itch to trace its contours. His eyes, normally a cool, observant umber, now burn with a fierce intensity, a volatile mix of desire and something else, something harder to define.

But even as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your lovemaking, in the exquisite slide of skin against skin, you can’t help but notice the weariness etched into the lines of Nanami’s face, the slight tremor in his hands as they map the contours of your body. He’s been working himself to the bone, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and it shows in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. You had tried to get him to sleep when he sagged through the front door, but he was insistent, clawing at your too-big t-shirt, silent and too stubborn to listen to his body as he licked into your hot mouth.

He’s so tired. Mind still running through quarterly reports and half-completed project plans. But he won’t let that deter him. He’s determined to focus—to savor this moment, to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of your skin, to surrender to the tremors that course through him as your fingers ghost up his back. You marvel at the play of muscles beneath his skin, at the flex and release of his broad shoulders with each movement—a reminder of the strength he usually keeps so carefully controlled.

But as he leans in to capture your lips, that traitorous whisper of doubt in his mind grows in volume. That exhaustion that melted away from your touch has retreated to within him, to course through the blood in his veins and manifest again in its own, evil way at the apex of his thighs. Nanami’s movements falter, his rhythm turning erratic, unsure. You feel a change in him, a hesitation that wasn’t there before, and your heart clenches with concern. His brow furrows, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to hold onto the moment, to keep the passion burning between you. The confidence that usually radiates from him when you are both between the sheets seems to waver, leaving in its wake a man grappling with an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy.

He doesn’t want to believe it. He refuses to acknowledge the treacherous thought creeping into his mind. His cock, moments ago hard as a rock and pulsing within you, is betraying him. He digs one hand into the pillow beneath your head, fingers tangling in your curls, savoring the sharp gasp you shake out, desperately willing himself to focus on your heat, on your breath ghosting across his face—anything but the waning firmness of his erection.

With a low grunt, he thrusts deeper so there’s no room for his cock to leave you. The movement is sharper than usual, a force that has no trace of his care behind it and it immediately makes you blink through the fog of pleasure in your mind. You notice the change, concern filling you as you take in the tumultuous emotions on his face. His blonde hair falls in thick tufts over his forehead, brushing against the deepening crease between his eyebrows.

“Ken?” Your voice is soft, a gentle caress. You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as if your soft skin might anchor and keep him focused. “Is everything alright?”

Everything is far from alright.

It’s a nightmare scenario that Nanami can’t bring himself to voice. But he knows you feel it. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against your vanilla skin, his fingers digging almost painfully into the flesh of your hips. He drives his hips deeper, angling upwards, trying desperately to lose himself in your pliant body.

But with his next thrust, the cruel truth becomes undeniable. What was once hard steel is now unbearably soft, slipping out of you as his hips collide with yours. Your gasp mirrors his shock as he jerks his head up to meet your gaze. The mortification in his eyes is palpable, a stark contrast to the passion that burned there mere moments ago.

“Ken, it’s okay—” you begin, but he’s already retreating, both physically and emotionally, his walls slamming back into place, shutting you out. You can practically see him retreating into himself, his shoulders hunching, his jaw clenching with a stubbornness of wounded pride.

“Hey, no, we aren’t doing this,” you insist, voice firm and laced with quiet determination.

You reach for him, your fingers wrapping around a thick wrist, anchoring him to you. You’ve spent years chipping away at his defenses, learning every facet of his being, and you refuse to let him shut you out now over something like this. This isn’t just embarrassment—it’s a fundamental shaking of his self-image, a crack in the foundation of who Nanami believes himself to be. An affliction that every man prays to the gods never finds them.

Limp dick.

You gently pull Nanami back to rest between your thighs, his weight a comforting shield against the cool air of your shared bedroom. Your fingers weave through his hair, feeling the tension thrumming through his body as he settles against you.

“Kento,” you murmur, your voice a low, soothing melody in the quiet room. “Look at me.”

He stills for a heartbeat, two, before raising his head, his eyes meeting yours. In their depths, you see a swirling maelstrom of emotions—frustration, embarrassment, shame. He’s tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an overwhelming exhaustion and stress etched beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, cradling his face in your hands. Your thumbs trace the high arch of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin. “This happens. It doesn’t change a thing—not how I feel, not how much I love you, none of it.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches under your palms, the muscle pulsing, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing within him. His gaze falls, unable to hold yours, as if the weight of his perceived failure is too much to bear. “I should be able to—”

“To what?” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “To be some infallible sex god?” A soft laugh escapes you, your lips curving into a tender smile. “To never have limp dick?”

Those warm eyes glare at you, not at all amused by your light-hearted but poignantly accurate joke. “Now is not the time for a joke,” he grits out, his voice tight, strained.

“Now is exactly the time for a joke,” you counter, your thumb tracing the slight cracks of his bottom lip. You can sense his next moves, your body attuned to his very soul, feeling his inclination to withdraw, to roll over and brood, to let this momentary setback fester into something more. You tighten your thighs around his waist, refusing to let him drift away. “How long have we been together, Kento?”

“Three years.” His answer is immediate, automatic, a testament to the depth of your bond.

“And in that time, has this ever happened before?”

Your eyes lock—a silent battle of wills, logic against stubborn pride. He understands your point, recognizes the truth in your words, but his stubbornness matches your own. “No,” he admits, the word a reluctant concession.

“You’re human, Kento. Wonderfully, beautifully human, and the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Performance issues or not.”

He scoffs, but you feel his shoulders slacken, his body melting into yours as he exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles. His arms tighten around you, calloused hands splaying across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if your touch alone could chase away the demons of self-doubt. Those beautiful golden strands tickle your cheeks as he nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Is that so?” he finally murmurs, and you can hear the small smile in his voice, a welcome change from the earlier tension. For as reserved as he is, Nanami preens under any sort of compliments you give him, a chink in his armor of cool composure.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your hands sliding down to appreciate the firm planes of his back. “It’s a shame, really. You attract too much attention. I’ve been too generous with how long I let you out of the house.”

You feel more than hear his soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. Nanami pulls back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability from before hasn’t completely faded, but it’s tempered by a familiar spark of determination kindling in their depths. You don’t know if the subject has completely dropped. But for now, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it, content to focus on you instead.

“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety tone that never fails to send shivers cascading down your spine, “I should ensure your satisfaction. Maybe then you’ll extend my hours outside.”

Before you can respond, he’s moving. He sits up on his knees, hot hands wrapping around your waist before yanking your hips closer to him, a delicious show of strength that has your breath catching in your throat. Your giggle of surprise quickly morphs into a gasp as his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue sliding against the skin before it trails down the rest of your body, leaving a path of desire that makes you shudder against him.

You expected a period of adjustment, a gradual return to the easy intimacy you and Nanami had always shared. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift, subtle at first, but growing more pronounced with each passing day.

That first sign of something odd presents itself on day three since that night, a quiet Saturday morning that dawns with a gentle golden light filtering through your bedroom curtains. You wake up to find Nanami’s side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Puzzled, you pad into the living room, your bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor, your eyes roaming the space for any sign of him.

Nanami sits at the dining table, surrounded by a veritable fortress of books, their spines forming a colorful barricade around his hunched form. His laptop glows in the morning light, casting his features in a pale blue hue, multiple tabs visible on the screen. He’s hunched over and shirtless, his bare back a canvas of dark moles, constellations you’ve traced countless times with reverent fingers, your lips mapping a path between each celestial point.

As you circle the table, drawing closer to his absorbed form, you’re struck by the intensity of his concentration, the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. His fingers fly over the keyboard with a single-minded purpose, a man on a mission, lost in a world of his own making.

“What are you doing up so early?” you ask, running a hand through the short, silky hair at his nape.

He glances up, and the determined glint in his eye catches you off guard. “Research,” he replies simply, as if that single word explains everything.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean in to examine the book titles scattered across the table, your brow rising with each passing second:

Male Sexual Health

Nutrition and Libido

Stress Management for Peak Performance

What the—?

A mix of emotions bubbles up inside you—amusement at his determination, concern for his state of mind, a touch of exasperation at his stubbornness. Part of you wants to tease him mercilessly, to watch that adorable flush creep up his neck, to see him squirm under your playful attention. But you bite your tongue, sensing the fragility of the moment, the rawness of his exposed insecurities.

“Ken,” you begin, your voice a delicate balance of understanding and concern, “is this about what happened the other night? I thought we talked about this, baby.”

“We did,” he nods, not looking up from his screen. “And I appreciate your understanding. But I can’t let it happen again. I’m going to fix this.”

There’s so much you want to say, so many reassurances you want to offer. You want to tell him how normal this is, how surprised you are that it hasn’t happened more often given his grueling work schedule. But you bite your tongue, sensing that this is something Nanami needs to process on his own.

“Don’t you think this might be…a bit much?” you try one last time, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his bare shoulder, careful not to make him feel defensive and push him further into his own head.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to satisfying you.”

And with those words, spoken with such conviction, such raw honesty, your heart swells, a tidal wave of love and affection crashing over you. He won’t be swayed, and there’s no point in trying to argue with him when he’s set on something. You can’t help but sigh fondly, running your fingers through his hair again, your nails gently scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, a low groan of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he guides your fingers to just the right spot.

As Nanami launches into an explanation of the benefits of Ashwagandha root, his fingers running along a line of text in one of the magazines, you can’t help but shake your head affectionately. You love this man, even (or perhaps especially) when he’s being ridiculously over-the-top, his determination to be the best partner he can be, even if it means diving headfirst into a world of herbal remedies and performance-enhancing techniques.

The days slip by, each one blurring into the next, a haze of normalcy tinged with an undercurrent of unease. It’s not until the morning of day ten that the true extent of Nanami’s newfound obsession becomes impossible to ignore.

The soft schick of his razor fills the bathroom, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rush of running water. He stands before the mirror, shirtless, a towel draped over his broad shoulders to catch stray flecks of shaving cream. You watch, transfixed, as he meticulously glides the razor along the sharp line of his jaw, each stroke precise, measured.

You stand beside him, your own morning ritual underway, massaging a rich, creamy lotion into your melanin-kissed skin. Your favorite scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of Nanami’s shaving cream. It’s a familiar dance, this shared moment of grooming, of preparation for the day ahead.

But as you reach for your leave-in, your eyes catch on something new, something that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. There, amidst the clutter of skincare products and toiletries, sits a new addition to the growing collection of bottles on the counter. The mustard-yellow label boldly proclaims: “Maca Root: For Vitality and Stamina”.

“Ken?” you murmur, plucking the bottle from the counter, your eyebrows dipping in confusion. “What’s this?”

Nanami’s eyes flick to yours in the mirror, his hand pausing mid-stroke, the razor hovering just above his skin. “Just a supplement,” he evades, his voice carefully neutral, a forced casualness he uses to avoid arguments he won’t win that always sets your teeth on edge. “For…overall health.”

You turn the bottle in your hands, eyebrow arching higher in disbelief with each word you read as you take in the bold, almost aggressive labeling. Your gaze darts to the other bottles littering the counter, a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you take them in for the first time.

“Uh-huh. And the Zinc? The Ginseng? The…” you squint at another label, your voice dripping with skepticism, “L-arginine? All for ‘overall health’ too?”

He clears his throat, his gaze darting away from yours, focusing intently on his reflection as he studiously avoids your probing stare. “That’s right.”

“Baby—” you begin, but he cuts you off, setting down his razor with a definitive clink and shutting the water off, turning to face you fully.

The sight of him, bare-chested and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light, sends a bolt of desire through you, a hunger that’s been left unsatiated for far too long. The thick cords of muscle that stretch across his chest and arms, the taut planes of his abdomen, the trail of dark blonde hair that disappears beneath the low-slung waistband of his sweatpants—it’s exquisite torture, a feast for your senses after days of famine.

But there’s a tension in the set of his shoulders, a skittishness in his gaze that sets off warning bells in your head.

“It’s the research I’ve been doing,” he admits, almost apologetic as he pulls the towel from his shoulders, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream from his jaw. “From what I’ve read, these have proven benefits for…various aspects of wellbeing.”

He seems almost afraid, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction, steeling himself against the inevitability of your displeasure. Fortunately for him, the words are like a match to kindling, a spark that ignites a flame of mischief in your belly. You step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, the supplement bottle forgotten on the counter behind you.

“Various aspects, huh?” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. This moment—when he smells of fresh soap, shaving cream, and mint toothpaste before cologne masks his natural scent—is one of many favorites. It’s one of the most arousing forms of Nanami Kento before he slides on his work clothes and gives the world a straight face and measured words. “Care to demonstrate some of these benefits?”

Your fingertips trace the muscles of his chest, slide along his skin with more purpose, your nails dragging lightly over his nipples, a teasing hint of pain that you know drives him wild. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your hands, his jaw clenched tight, a reaction that’s as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

For a moment, you think you have him, that he’ll give in to the desire that darkens his eyes, that he’ll roughly bunch your skirt up around your waist, hike your legs up and around him and make the bathroom mirror knock against your back until you’re gasping out his name as you tighten around his cock.

But then he’s stepping back, his hands coming up to gently catch your wrists, pulling your hands away from his skin.

“We’ll be late for work,” voice strained, conveying his own battling desire. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your wrists, your forehead, your mouth.“Let me make you breakfast instead.”

And then he’s gone, slipping past you and out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone, frustration and disappointment warring in your chest. Your gaze falls on the supplement bottles, a physical manifestation of his growing hysteria, and for a moment, you’re seized by the urge to sweep them all into the trash, to rid your home of these unwelcome interlopers.

But you resist, drawing in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently repeat the mantra that’s become your lifeline in recent days: I love him. I love him. I love him.

But as you square your shoulders and stalk out of the bathroom to start your day, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s got to give, that this tenuous balance can’t hold forever.

Day seventeen. It feels like an eternity, a cruel and unusual punishment for a crime you didn’t commit. You’re a prisoner in your own home, trapped in a world where the man you love is just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossibly distant.

Seventeen days too long when you live with a man as loving, kind, and attentive as Nanami Kento. Seventeen excruciating days since the concept of getting dicked down was a given, a pleasure you could indulge in whenever the mood struck. Now, you’re reduced to grasping at sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths—anything for a crumb of cock, a fleeting taste of the intimacy you crave.

You’ve become a connoisseur of stolen moments, of fleeting glances and brushing touches that once held the promise of so much more. A shared look in the bathroom mirror that used to lead to soapy sex in the shower. The brush of his hand against the small of your back as you pass in the hallway, a touch that used to lead to him pulling you flush against his body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. Now, you’re like an addict, desperately chasing the ghost of a high, sucking at nicotine-stained fingers for the essence of a hit.

In a last-ditch effort to reignite the spark to show him just how much he’s overreacting, you’ve taken to wearing his shirts around the house. You leave the top buttons undone, a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage on display, the hem riding high on your thighs to reveal the faint marks that he likes to lick against. But each night when you reach for him, Nanami simply presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing a path down your body in a reverent exploration, worshiping you with his mouth and fingers until you’re trembling and spent.

But never with his cock. Never with the part of him you crave most, the part that once made you feel so deliciously full, so utterly claimed.

You feel dramatic when you think about it because it always brings tears to your eyes, hot and stinging with frustration and despair. Like you’re a petulant toddler wanting a cookie that’s been sitting on the counter all morning.

You’ve never been one to let a man dictate your life, to let his whims and insecurities hold sway over your own desires. But Nanami has always been a man to put you above and beyond anything before himself. If the women of the world knew what they were missing, if they could experience even a fraction of the pleasure Nanami Kento can provide, they’d be falling to their knees in supplication, just like you.

How far you’ve fallen.

And how little you care.

Tonight, you vow, will be different. You slip into the silk nightgown he loves, the one that clings to your every curve like a second skin, the baby blue fabric whispering against your heated flesh as you step out of the bathroom. Your heart races with anticipation, your body thrumming with need as you picture his reaction, the way his eyes will darken with desire, the way he’ll pull you into his arms and finally, finally give you what you both so desperately need.

But the bedroom is empty, the sheets still neatly made, mocking you with their pristine perfection. You frown, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you pad down the hallway, your bare feet whispering against the cool hardwood. As you approach the kitchen, a pungent, almost medicinal smell hits your senses, growing stronger with each step, mingling with the whir of a blender.

You round the corner and freeze, taking in the scene before you. Nanami stands at the kitchen counter, surrounded by an alchemist’s array of strange-looking roots and powders. The blender in front of him churns away, filled with a murky-greenish-brown liquid that looks more like something out of a horror movie than anything fit for human consumption.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice thin and strained, confusion and exasperation warring for dominance in your tone.

He looks up, startled, nearly knocking over a jar of what looks like dried herbs. “It’s…a health shake.”

You want to argue, to shake his shoulders and scream that this has gone too far, that he’s lost sight of what really matters in his quest for some unattainable ideal. But the determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he grimaces as he chokes down a sip of the vile concoction—it all speaks to a desperation that breaks your heart even as it fuels your frustration.

As he takes another sip, nose twisted to the side to avoid the foul smell, his eyes catch your frame. They roam over you, taking in the nightgown, giving you the exact reaction you pictured before coming out here.

For a moment, you see that flicker of desire in his eyes that you’ve been craving.

But then it’s gone, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“I’ll come to bed soon,” he promises, grimacing through another sip of his vile brew. “Get some rest. I know today was rough at work.”

His words are like a knife to your gut, a reminder of the distance that’s grown between you, the way his obsession has consumed him so completely that he can’t even see the pain it’s causing you both.

All of this, because of one night.

You press your toes into the hardwood, your fingers twisting in the hem of your nightgown as you fight back the tears that burn the corners of your eyes.

“You…you don’t want to come to bed with me?” you whisper, hating the way your voice breaks, the way the hope that once buoyed your words has been replaced by a hollow, aching despair and annoyance.

“I want to finish this and catch up on a few things for work before I come to bed.” His gaze slides away from yours, unable to meet the hurt and frustration in your eyes. Unable to see just how in his head he has become with all of this. “It’ll be a little while. Sleep for me? Please?”

The rejection, however gentle, leaves you feeling exposed and bereft, a physical blow to your gut. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore, and turn to head back to the bedroom, your vision blurring.

There’s so much more to this than just you wanting to have sex. You want to be supportive, to give him time and space to work through whatever this is. But you hate just how disillusioned he has become. His gaze and his touch are tainted now—held back by shame and fear of disappointing you. And you can’t help but feel like this is getting more out of control instead of getting better.

You love him, more than anything. But right now, listening to the distant sounds of him choking down that awful-smelling shake, you’ve never felt further apart.

It all comes to a head on day twenty-five. The day dawns like any other, the sun’s warm rays filtering through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a soft glow on the well-worn furniture and the mementos of your life together. It’s your day off, a rare respite from the chaos of the work week, and you find yourself moving through the space with a sense of purpose, straightening and cleaning, trying to bring order to the disarray that seems to mirror the state of certain parts of your relationship.

As you work, your mind wanders, replaying the events of the past month like a melancholy film reel. The distance, the tension, the way Nanami has been pulling away from you, retreating into himself in a desperate attempt to fix what he perceives as a fundamental flaw in his being. Insisting that he won’t let this happen again even though he won’t actually fuck you.

It’s a weight that’s been bearing down on you both, a shadow that’s slowly suffocating the light and love that once filled every corner of your lives.

Your feet carry you to the bedroom, to the closet you share. As you reach for Nanami’s side, intent on straightening his crisp dress shirts, your hand brushes against something unfamiliar, tucked away in the shadows. Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, revealing a plain, unmarked brown box.

For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, a cold fear gripping your insides as you lift the lid, praying that it’s nothing that would point your partner in the direction of infidelity. But no, you shake your head, banishing the thought before it can fully form. Nanami would never betray you, never seek solace in the arms of another because there’s only has and ever been you.

It makes complete sense in your head, but lately—

You yank open the lid and gape.

Inside, nestled among crumpled tissue paper, are items you never expected to find in Nanami’s possession. Your fingers tremble slightly as you examine them—a cylindrical pump, clear save for the rubber base, and an orange prescription bottle, its label stark against the translucent plastic.

You stare at the objects, your mind whirling with a chaotic storm of emotions. Shock, disbelief, a rising tide of frustration and despair. This isn’t just Nanami being health-conscious anymore, not just a passing phase or a well-intentioned attempt at self-improvement. This is something deeper, something more desperate, a manifestation of the fear and inadequacy that’s been eating away at him since that fateful night.

Carefully, you replace the items, your movements mechanical, your thoughts a jumbled mess. A part of you wants to laugh, to find the absurdity in the situation, to release the tension that’s been building in your chest like a pressure cooker. But you can’t bring yourself to even stifle a giggle, the weight of your worry too heavy.

You sink down onto the bed, the cool sheets soothing the heat of your legs, and draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The weeks of distance, avoidance, the way Nanami has been retreating further and further into himself, straying more and more from reason. There’s so much more to your relationship than just sex, but it’s a big part, a well-practiced part that you both can be your rawest selves during.

But all of this is a spiral that’s slowly dragging you both down, a vortex of unspoken fears and mounting frustrations on both ends.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your shared life in your apartment, the photos and trinkets that chronicle your love story, you know that something has to give. And it looks like you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. This ends today.

Tonight, when Nanami gets home, you’ll address this head-on. No more dancing around the issue, no more swallowing your grievances in the name of patience and nonexistent understanding. It’s time to remind him of who he is, of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s always been more than enough for you.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you from your thoughts, the soft shuffle of Nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. “Love, I’m home,” he calls out, his voice weary but warm, a balm to your frayed nerves.

He appears in the doorway, his tie loosened, speckled black on yellow draped over his shoulders, the top buttons of his blue shirt undone. His glasses are gone, discarded in his haste to shed the trappings of the office, to leave the stresses of the day behind. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they land on you, a reverent smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So beautiful.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, at the love and adoration that shines in his gaze, even though you’re in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, your curls thrown into a careless and messy bun.

“You always speak as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me,” you tease, tilting your head back to accept his kiss, a chaste press of his lips that nonetheless ignites a spark of longing in your core.

“Because it’s true,” he replies simply, his fingers brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “I’m going to shower.” He sounds despondent, unbelievably ragged with the weight of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

“Rough day?”

“A very rough day, my love,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disrupting the sharp part that he makes every morning. He reaches a hand out to you, an invitation, a plea for your company. “Join me?”

The bathroom is a sanctuary of steam and heat, the air thick with the mingled scents of your body washes—cucumber melon and sandalwood. You perch on the counter, a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, watching as Nanami goes through his post-shower routine, his movements methodical, almost meditative.

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing tantalizing paths down the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your fingers itching to follow those rivulets, to map the contours of his body with your lips and tongue.

“Let me,” you murmur, your voice husky with repressed longing. Your legs spread, the open lapels of your towel exposing a creamy brown thigh that Nanami’s eyes flicker to before he meets your gaze. You reach for him, pulling closer until he’s standing between your parted thighs, the heat of his waist seeping through the thin barrier of your towel.

With gentle fingers, you work through the rest of his skincare routine—toner, serum, smoothing eye cream over the delicate skin beneath his lashes. The domesticity of the moment, the intimacy of caring for him like this in whatever way you can, it’s a way to show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how lost he may feel.

Your fingertips glide over his skin, applying the last of the face cream with gentle circular motions. As you finish, your hands move to his damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. The strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes that crease faintly when he smiles.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. Nanami’s hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your towel-covered skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, thickly. His eyes, those warm pools of mahogany, are soft with gratitude and affection.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with love for this man.

Nanami leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It’s meant to be a simple gesture of gratitude, but something shifts in the air around you. Whether it’s the intimacy of you both so close or the heat on your skin—the kiss deepens, slow and exploratory, as if you’re rediscovering each other after a long absence.

Your fingers thread through his damp hair, tangling in the strands as his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, tasting the coffee he must have had on the way home, the hint of want that he wants to crumble into. He returns with equal fervor, pressing closer to you, sliding his tongue against yours, shivering from the soft moan that shakes from your wet lips when you both finally break apart. A gossamer thread of saliva connects you before he pecks your lips one last time. Nanami’s chest rises and falls deeply, coiled masculinity oozing from his pores, tangling with the downy hairs on his chest.

“Kento,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, “we…we need to talk about what’s been going on.”

Your hands train down his chest as you speak, mapping the familiar terrain of his body. Beneath your fingertips, his heart thunders like a trapped bird, betraying the melting calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The defined muscles of his abdomen twitch under your touch, a visceral reaction he can’t control.

“The magazines, the supplements, the smoothies,” you continue, gentle but firm. “This has gone too far. One off night, Kento. That’s all it was. Yet here you are, acting like you’re broken, like every moment we’ve shared before was somehow lacking.”

Nanami tenses, his body coiling like a spring beneath your hands. But you’re not letting him retreat—not like that night—and certainly not right now. Your legs wrap around his waist, the gap of your towel widening as you yank him closer, anchoring him to you, skin to skin.

“You think that I would look at you differently?” you murmur, catching his distressed eyes every time they try to evade your gaze, willing him to understand. “Think I would think of you as a failure? You like logic, Kento and I’m telling you the facts. You were tired, case closed.”

“But I—” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tries to defend himself. You silence him with a thumb to the plump skin of his bottom lip, tracing the divots of soft, pink flesh.

“You’re the healthiest man I know, Ken.” Your other hand drifts lower, brushing through the trail of dark golden hair that disappears beneath his towel. “You take such good care of us. And you never, ever fail to satisfy me.”

His breath catches as your fingers ghost over his hipbones, alternating between soft cotton and the sharp cut of his skin. “One night doesn’t change that,” you whisper, the hand on his face sliding to card through his hair, you lean in to press your lips to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist from your touch, Adams apple bobbing against your gliding lips as he swallows the burning desire that’s slowly searing him from the inside out. “It doesn’t make you any less amazing, any less desirable.”

You pull back, meeting his eyes. In their warm depths, you see a swirling mix of vulnerability that makes your heartache.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you again. While I know that you don’t care, being unable to provide for you fully is something that I never wanted to experience.” The confession is thick in the air, sloshing with what remains of the steam from the shower, coating your skin.

“Oh, Kento,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his. The scent of his skin—clean soap and something uniquely him—envelops you, offers that blanket of protection that you couldn’t imagine going away. “The only thing disappointing me is how you’ve been pulling away. I’m tired of you feeling inadequate when you’re anything but.”

You pause, weighing the options in your head before you take a bounding leap, throwing care to the wind. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off the counter, your body brushing against his as you descend. The cool tile of the bathroom floor contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from your skin.

Kneeling before him, you look up, your gaze never leaving his. Hands slide up thick thighs, the hair on his legs brushing against your fingertips as you travel further toward the rigid heat of where you need him most. The hitch in his breath is faint, almost nonexistent when your fingers toy with the towel’s edge around his waist. You only wait a moment, three seconds too many as your hand undoes the tight knot and the towel pools at his feet and your knees on the floor.

He’s just as he always is—thick and heavy from your proximity alone, hard and filled with the blood that pumps wildly in his veins. When you wrap your hand around him, the heft of his cock makes your cunt squeeze. You know exactly what it feels like to have the most intimate part of him carving out your insides, and god do you need it right now.

You give only one stroke and the effect is instant; Nanami hisses, fingers flexing at his sides, extending and then curling in a fist as a means to keep his hands to himself, the head of his mushroom tip red and prickles with a thick gathering of precum. Just the sight makes your mouth water.

“I found those things in your closet, you know,” you purr softly, stroking him at an excruciating pace. “You actually think you need something like that, baby?”

A flush creeps up Nanami’s neck, blooming across his cheeks in rushing embarrassment even though his pupils are dilated from the sight of you on your knees. He opens his mouth to speak, fumbling for words that choke around another hitch with your next stroke.

“You don’t feel like you would need something like that.” And you don’t wait a second longer, opening your mouth, dragging the flat of your tongue up the backside of his cock. Each taste bud slides against rigid bumps of veins, gathering with more spit as he groans from your attention. You offer a gentle kiss to his tip, licking the salty taste of his precum from your lips. “You sure don’t taste like you would need something like that.”

The rise and fall of his chest is quickly leaving the pace of steady, his eyes locked on you and jaw flexing with growing desperation. You squeeze his cock on an upward stroke, your own body beginning to heat up just from watching him fall apart.

“Look at you now,” you tease, widening the gap between your knees, the heat between your legs radiating against your ankles. “You don’t look like you need help. Responding so beautifully to me. Not a hint of hesitation.”

The velvety hardness of him in your palm twitches from your words, hard steel that’s blazing hot, and just the sight of him above you is more than enough for a whine to build in your belly, an innate urge to have any part of him inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes flutter, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as you lean in. When you finally take him into your mouth, your name falls from his lips like a prayer, brown eyes rolling halfway to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing in equal confusion and pleasure.

You’re too eager to give him time to adjust—tongue swirling around the crown of his head and softening underneath him before building a nice, slobbery rhythm. In and out, in and out. Every stroke of your mouth around his cock makes your mouth water even more and your body relax, the dig of the tile on your knees forgotten.

“Fuck,” he pants, the rare curse slipping from his lips as one hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head. You hum in appreciation—in encouragement—building his confidence to squeeze the curly strands. The vibration of your hum of attention causes Nanami’s hips to buck involuntarily and you let your throat relax without thinking, let him hit the back before you swallow around him. “I-” he bites his lip, groaning from deep in his chest.

The heat of the bathroom is suffocating, your neck covered in curls prickling with sweat, sliding down your clavicle and onto the towel around your breasts that’s quickly loosening. Or maybe it’s your own body burning from the inside out, your blood pounding and surging to your core, swelling with arousal that leaks from you without even touching yourself.

And you’re dripping. The hand not at the base of him—stroking what you can’t swallow—reaches between your thighs, rubbing a clit that’s sopping wet with slick that drips between your fingers and onto the tile floor.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar ache to build in your jaw, a growing reminder of the thick cock between your mouth. But his throaty moans keep you going, keep your cunt pulsing and squeezing around the two fingers that quickly slide inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes, dark with desire, take you in—your messy hand twisting at the base of his cock, the hint of saliva on your chin, the prickle of tears at the corners of your eyes from the way he keeps hitting the back of your throat. Only he gets to see you like this. Only he gets to be with someone who will stop at nothing to make him feel supported and loved over something as trivial as a night of bad luck.

“I…you’re…” he gasps, unable to complete his thoughts when you moan around him. “Please just—just keep…don’t stop…don’t—”

As the tension builds, Nanami’s control begins to slip. His thrusts lose their measured control, the hands in your hair tighten, the quick breath from his mouth becomes tight as he bares his teeth and fucks your mouth. His abs are glistening with sweat, tight and flexing as he fights to stay sane.

You’re ready to burst from the seams, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine with each curl of your fingers inside of you, moans tight and sporadic in a familiar sign of your impending orgasm.

It’s when his eyes catch you fingering yourself that his control snaps in half, setting him off. He’s grabbing at you, yanking you from your knees with a strength that shocks you, your towel finally falling off your body and exposing you to the heat of the bathroom. Before you can protest, Nanami moves in a flourish, the last threads of his control dissolving at the shocked but excited gasp that leaves your lips.

In one fluid motion, he spins you around to face the bathroom mirror. Your breath catches at the sight of you both—flushed, desire-drunk, tanned and freckled muscles pressed against your back. His eyes meet yours in the reflection, a primal hunger burning in their depths, black eating away the warm brown.

The press of his cock against your lower back makes you arch your back, leaning over the counter without a second thought, taking him in through the mirror. His hands roam over your body with renewed confidence, cupping the heaviness of your breasts, sliding down tiger-striped brown skin to grip your hips. His eyes trail over the mess of curls on your sweaty back, the curve of your ass, the glistening of your cunt as it catches in the bathroom light.

He looks focused, almost angry—determined to make sure he does exactly what he’s supposed to do. Your body shivers in anticipation. This is the Nanami you’ve been missing—strong, confident, and utterly, deliciously yours.

Without preamble, you part your legs more, opening yourself up to his leering gaze as he watches you slide two fingers through your sopping folds. “I need you,” you whisper, your other hand kneading the flesh of a breast, pinching the nipple to make you arch your back more into him.

He presses forward at the sound of your voice, a beacon for him to bring you whatever you desire. “You have me.”

You feel him, hot and hard against you, and you can’t stifle the moan that escapes you. “All of you Kento,” you whimper, pushing back against him and stroking your clit faster, your slick sliding down your fingers to the center of your palm. “No more holding back, no more doubts. Show me how much you want me.”

In the mirror, the trepidation in his eyes, the worry between his brows. The disappointment from that night is surely playing in his head, teasing him evilly that he will never be able to make love to you again. But you won’t let him feel that way again, you’ll never let him feel inadequate. So you turn slightly to reach behind you, smooth a hand up the side of his face, caressing his jaw, angling your head to the side to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect,” you breathe, the words barely a whisper between you both, the perfect combination to relax the subtle tension in his shoulders. “So perfect for me, Kento.”

He releases a shaky exhale against your lips from your words, the vibration traveling through your body where you’re pressed together. With one hand braced on your waist, the other guiding himself, his eyes not leaving yours, Nanami pushes into you slowly. Finally. Twenty-five days too late and the feeling of completeness, of absolute rightness, is overwhelming. It’s as if a missing piece of you has been slotted back into place.

You whimper, panting into his mouth, sliding your lips messily against his. Your body stretches to accommodate him, a delicious burn that makes your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, Kento,” you keen, “you’re so fucking big—fill me so well—” His hips snap forward, cutting you off, a sharp cry punching from your lungs.

“I-I shouldn’t have—” he pants against your lips, ready to apologize from the force but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes,” you encourage, your voice breathy from the delicious zing of pleasure that throbs between your legs. “You feel amazing, Ken. So perfect.”

He shivers from your words and starts a slow, almost tentative rhythm. But your continued praise spurs him on. His thrusts become more confident, more forceful, driving you both higher in the stifling heat of your bathroom.

The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slick smack of skin on skin, breathless moans from his full lips, whispered praises from your mouth.

“So good,” you moan softly. “You feel so good inside me.” The hand on your clit resumes its pace, wanting Nanami to be fully immersed in focusing so he can get past this terrible roadblock in his mind.

“More,” he demands, kissing you deeply, the side of your jaw, nibbling your ear, begging you silently for more love and praise. “I-I have to know I’m doing well. That I’m making you feel good—"

“You are,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes white spots blot the edges of your vision. “You are—you are, Kento—shit fuck me harder. Give it to me.”

He bends to your will immediately, the pull of your voice—of your demands as easy as breathing, and he’ll give whatever it takes to make sure he can lay everything at your feet. “Fuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into the meat behind your knee, yanking it up onto the counter and you’re opening more, wider for him to slide in further.

It’s messy and animalistic, a building of sweat between your sliding bodies, a gradual intensifying thrum between your legs with each smack of his balls against you. Your body jerks with each thrust, pleasure scratching down your skin with sharp nails as your mind grows hazy, mouth falling open as the tip of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over with each inward stroke. The hand on your clit flies up to grab the sweaty porcelain of the sink in front of you, fingernails digging into the rubbery sealant along the sides. The other hand reaches back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You’ve gone almost a month without him in the most primal way and your body is struggling to keep up. Your lungs struggle to pull in enough air, your slick-coated fingers slip against the sink, your hips burn from the open angle of one leg up on the counter.

But you can’t bring it in yourself to care, too deep in bliss to worry about your wellbeing, the pressure at the base of your spine building and building, molten pleasure bubbling in your gut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” you gasp as you both climb together, meeting his thrusts as the tension coils tighter in your core. “You’re so strong. Love me so well. Fuck me so well.” Nanami groans harshly, shivering from your praise, reaching down to stroke your neglected clit, and you tense around him, choking at the pleasure that wraps around your throat, your cunt pulsing as it tries to swallow his cock and never let it leave.

You watch in the mirror as Nanami loses himself in the moment, all his doubts and insecurities forgotten. His face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his body moving with a grace and power that takes your breath away. His hips falter, stuttering briefly to signal his match of mounting pleasure. He leans over you, his face in the crease of your neck, body bowing over to make you press further into the counter, teeth grazing your skin as he groans and pants against you with feral need.

He presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubs with a practiced motion and you’re tensing against the counter, scrambling for purchase on the sink as high-pitched keens shake from your throat. “Fuck right there, Kentooo,” you moan tightly. He moans harshly into the skin of your neck, relishing in the way your hot and wet walls tighten around him, doubling down, the fingers on your waist digging crescent moons into your skin. “Make me cum. Oh fuck, make me cum pleasepleaseplease—”

The hand in his hair tightens around silky strands, your body tenses up, your nose scrunching, pleasure pulsing and building in your cunt as you climb and climb and climb until you shatter.

A cry of his name, loud and primal, rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Ecstasy floods your system in overwhelming waves, each one threatening to pull you under. Tears gather in the corners of your tightly shut eyes, born from the sheer intensity of your release.

And like always, your pulsing walls are the final push Nanami needs. He thrusts into you harshly with deep punctuating strokes until his balls draw tight, fingers digging deeper, a deep, guttural groan shaking from his body as he finally climbs up that wall of shame and follows you over the edge, his release pulsing hot and deep inside you as your body continues to shudder with aftershocks.

Nanami doesn’t have the energy to pull out, collapsing onto you without grace. The cool counter against your cheek is a balm for your burning skin. As you both come down from your high, trembling and panting, you stroke his scalp with the hand still twisted in his sweaty hair, fading spots behind closed eyelids painting your vision.

After a few moments, Nanami stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before carefully withdrawing from your body. You whimper at the loss, but he soothes you with another soft kiss on your temple. You hear the sound of running water, the tub filling slowly as Nanami retrieves a warm, damp washcloth.

With tender care, he cleans you up, the soft cloth gliding over your sensitive skin. His touch is reverent, worshipful, as if he’s handling something precious beyond measure, and you melt further onto the counter. Once you’re clean, he guides your leg down from the counter, massaging the muscles of your hips and thighs to ease any lingering tension.

You let him lead you to the tub, sighing in bliss as you sink in the hot, soothing water. Nanami climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest as he settles you between his legs. The heat seeps into your aching muscles, the steam smelling faintly of lavender, the gentle lapping of the water against your skin a soothing lullaby.

For a long moment, you simply rest together, your head tipped back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as a thumb strokes the skin. The bathroom is quiet, save for the occasional drip of the faucet and your slow, even breathing.

Your mind drifts to the vulnerability you’ve witnessed in Nanami, the raw, unguarded moments he’s bared his deepest fears and insecurities. And only you will be the one to see that. You’ll be the only one to build him back up when he’s stripped down, to remind him of his worth, to love through every storm. Even storms that are as weak and barely damaging as limp dick.

“Thank you,” he finally speaks, rich voice vibrating against your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the smell of your leave-in. “For being patient with me…for being supportive…” You feel the tension drain from his body as he exhales, slowly, as if he’s releasing the last of his worries into the steam-filled air. “I love you. Deeply.”

You smile softly to yourself at the declaration and turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with a mix of adoration and mischief.

“This wasn’t an easy assignment you know,” you tease, your voice lighthearted even as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. “I expect payment for my unwavering devotion.”

Nanami’s eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, roll playfully, a smile tugging the edges of his lips. “What’s my bill?”

"Moissanite,” you declare matter-of-factly, nestling back against his broad chest with a contented sigh. “The carats are up to you, but—“

“A gold band,” Nanami interjects, warm with affection and certainty. “Emerald cut. I have it memorized, my love.”

He punctuates his words with a tender kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a kaleidoscope of butterflies set free by his words.

“The box in the closet? Throw the penis pump and the Viagra in the trash,” you add, playfully jabbing your elbow into his side. “You won’t be needing those anymore.”

Nanami’s laughter rumbles through you, a deep, satisfying sound that fills the room and washes over your skin like a physical caress. “And if I want to be prepared, just in case?” he counters, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re 28, not 50,” you remind him, your own laughter mingling with his.

“Humor me.”

“I guess I could gather up all the magazines, powders, supplements, and various “aids” and present them to you in a nice box for you to use one day. Of course, you’d be single, so I’m not sure what good they’d do you then.”

Nanami’s body shakes with mirth, his breath puffing warm and sweet against your hair. “In the trash they go.”

You hum in agreement, an eyebrow raised before you tilt your chin. And like always, because you never have to ask, Nanami obliges, his lips slanting over yours in a slow, deep caress that steals your breath and fills your heart all at once.

Thanks for reading!

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