#not a whiskey drinker

[naves04]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Make sure to drink water, my friend☺️

WORRY NOT MY FRIEND we are responsible blokes in this house ☝️☝️

[fandomdancie]

While we’re on the subject of Too Sweet by Hozier…

Where are all the Gale animatics???

[utahimeow]

if ur f/o drinks what’s their go-to alcoholic beverage

[lordofthecoffee]

Put the dogs outside while I was prepping their food for camping. Well the gate apparently blew open, and Dixie got out for the first time in her life. When I say that I could have thrown up! This is the absolute worst time of year for a dog who is terrified of fireworks to get loose.

I only made it two houses down alternating between hollering her full name and offering bribes when she came trotting out from a side yard, but holyyyy SHIT

[kurtoutdoorman]

Working on something new. It’s worth some of your time!

[aladaylessecondblog]

50:22 (Raphael x Tav, pt 9, final)

Author's Note: And here we are! Last chapter of Six Hours. The next fic in the series will start with post-nautiloid crash.

---------------------------

She'd finished packing bags for them in preparation for the adventure ahead (tucking the bottle of Haarlep's semen in her own bag, far below everything else), and now she was opening the box of Gortash's things that she'd kept closed for most of the last six years.

Cald looked excitedly into the box. Tav remembered him saying that it always smelled of weird men's perfume (cologne, she always corrected him), and the two bottles of whiskey she kept. The cheapest of cheap whiskey, in a red bottle with a black label. A very "I am what I say I am, I will get you drunk. Good? I just said I'll get you drunk" sort of whiskey.

Gortash had liked it so much he'd outright bought the brewery. It had been given the name Rotgut Red, which was what everyone called it even BEFORE he'd bought the brewery.

She never drank them. But when things had hurt so badly at first, she'd open a bottle, wet her lips, and let the scent remind her...

A smile was forced onto her face when Cald asked about the additional bottle in the box.

"Your father was a wealthy man, but he didn't start out that way. So...some things he likes are...cheaper than others. That includes the whiskey. I can't let you have any, but you can smell it if you want. It...reminds me of him."

Cald took a curious sniff from the bottle but his nose wrinkled a moment later and he suddenly said, "His drink smells gross."

"It does, until you get used to it. When you love someone...sometimes things you'd never like become things you do. Because they belong to the one you love...and when you see, or smell those things...it's as if you are with them again, even if just for a moment."

"I think I understand," he said. "What's in the rest of the box?"

Two rings were pulled from a smaller box inside it. "Your father's wedding ring. And mine."

They were put aside after she let Cald look at them. Then she reached down, and pulled out a thin undershirt. "When we had to run...I didn't know what would happen, where we'd be going..."

She took a deep breath. It was a shirt he'd worn when working on the Steel Watchers, and even now, after six years in storage, it still smelled faintly of Gortash. Sweat, grease, oil.

Him.

"So I brought some of your father's clothes with me," she finally said, gesturing. "An extra pair of his boots, a few pairs of trousers..."

"What's all this gold stuff?" Cald pointed. He hadn't seen all of the box yet, and now he was spotting the rings. All twisting gold, hints here and there to the one whom he served.

"Your father's, other rings." Tav pulled them up, and gave a slight smile as her boy looked over them.

"They look..."

She slipped them on and wiggled her fingers. "They're supposed to be claws. He was quite fond of them, hardly went anywhere without them. A tyrant's grip should be a hard one, he said."

"They're gold," Cald said, "If my hands were big enough I could use them to help with the things I build. My sparks go through gold really well."

She took a string (hrm, now she remembered it, it was one that had come loose from Gortash's jacket. What a pain it had been to make him replace it) and slipped all but one of the rings onto it, before tying a small knot in the back. "Here, Cald, you can wear it as a necklace until you're big enough to use them yourself. Your father would have wanted you to have them anyway."

He quickly put the makeshift necklace on.

"I wish you could have known him," Tav said, after a short pause, "But remember this, no matter what: he loved you. Your father loved you, so much, that when a choice of saving you or himself came up, he chose you."

Cald looked down.

"Don't blame yourself, because it's not your fault." she said, kneeling to meet his eyes, Gortash's eyes. "That's just what a good father is supposed to do: protect his family. He saved both of us, at...at the cost of his own safety and memory. And I WILL give you the chance to see him, I promise."

"I know, mama."

He didn't hug her often, not anymore, but he did now. Tav returned the hug tightly.

"There is only one man you should blame for this. The only reason we're both here, and not where we should be. Cazador Szarr. Remember that name, Cald, if you remember nothing else during the adventure we'll be taking soon. HE is the reason you don't have your father. Don't be mad at yourself. Be mad at HIM."

He looked up at her solemnly, and nodded. After a moment he said, "Can I go out flying?"

"Of course," Tav smiled. "You already ate, didn't you?"

"I had breakfast," he replied, heading for the door, "And if I get hungry there's lots of things to eat outside anyway."

She gave him one more hug, let him go, and then turned back to the box. She lifted the undershirt to her nose, and breathed deeply.

He's going to learn to work on these things too. It's never too early to start.

He's banging on its leg with a wrench, Enver.

Tav opened her eyes again.

She'd heard voices after losing Astarion and Halsin, but with Gortash...there wasn't any of that. There were memories, but she never once heard his voice, and she thought how dearly she'd love to hear it again.

Maybe it was the lack of guilt. She'd felt guilty over Astarion and Halsin, and however much she had loved them then, it hadn't even been half a year they'd been hers. The life they were trying to build hadn't even a firm foundation.

Then had come Gortash and the life she had actually built with him. She had convinced Bane to bless the union.

She was his wife, his lover, his Duchess, the mother of his heir...

Tav opened another bag and folded the undershirt up and put it down. Then the boots, and the bottles of Rotgut Red.

"You can't carry them forever, you know."

She stiffened when she heard Raphael's voice behind her, but kept her tone calm. "Watch me."

"I'm surprised you didn't steal his jacket, too."

"I didn't steal any of it," Tav replied as she closed the bag, "And he needed the jacket. I didn't want to leave him completely bare...didn't want that to be the last thing I saw."

She gushed information, knowing if she didn't, he'd probably drag it out of her anyway with a demand.

"Where?" she asked quietly, "Here? The boudoir?"

"Here, since we shall not be disturbed," Raphael replied. "It would be best if I weren't so pressed for time, I would dearly love to spend the hour and twenty minutes we have--"

"Fifty minutes." Tav whipped around. "You said it yourself--you can't just ADD time like that."

"Ah, mouse, you forgot the terms of our game, didn't you?"

"I answered all your questions honestly. The five I DID answer, anyway."

Raphael smirked.

"Not all of them, my dear. You DID lie to me when you said you wanted to continue our little game. Need I remind you that you agreed to the penalty? Half an hour of time added for lying to me. And you CANNOT deny that you lied."

Tav paused--shocked--thinking over his last visit. The six questions that she had agreed to answer, the honest answers she'd told him.

But she hadn't lied for--

"Breach of contract," she said suddenly, "You asking me if I wanted to continue would count as a seventh question, and that falls outside of the agreement. And--I didn't sign anything, but--"

"But what, mouse?"

There was a silent fury on Raphael's face. Had he expected her to be stupider? To just accept his adding another half hour to her time? Maybe he thought he'd broken her more. That she'd welcome it, even. Who knew?

"But you applied the time I earned to my debt, so you can't claim there wasn't a contract, even if I didn't sign one."

Tav looked him in the eye.

"Therefore. Breach of contract. But..."

The anger in Raphael's face lifted just slightly.

"But since I would prefer not to upset you, to keep you quiet regarding...well, everything..." Tav paused. "Perhaps we might agree to remove that half hour, rather than add it. I'm sure you can do plenty with twenty minutes."

GODS, how she wanted to tease him on that. But he was already upset, and to needle him more might have...unpleasant consequences.

"That," Raphael finally spoke, with an edge in his voice so sharp it could have cut her through, "Will do suitably."

One moment he was standing there before her, glaring--

--the next he was behind her. A sudden scent of flaming hellfire told her he'd shifted to his cambion form.

"You think you're SUCH a clever mouse, don't you?" He growled, and shoved her to her knees, following soon after. Then one hand came up, pressing her face into the ground. "You think you've outwitted me, don't you?"

"I don't th--"

"Silence. Silence."

The hem of her gown was lifted, her underwear torn. There was a sound of shuffling fabric...

Tav yelped--then cried out as he thrust into her dry.

"Only twenty more minutes, you must be thinking. Only twenty more, then it will all be over. Then I will think nothing of him. Is that what's passing through your head?" Raphael brought her head up, and leaned down to speak directly in her ear, "Mouse, I hope you aren't deluded enough to think such things. Because--let us be sure to have things straight--"

Another painful series of thrusts.

"You belong to me, regardless of contract. You--are--MINE--"

Tav could not explain the sudden eruption of laughter, but she didn't stop it once it was out. She was rewarded by having her face shoved back into the floor, and another hard thrust.

He was so utterly pathetic like this, eager to fill her, mark her, break her.

Me, me, me. Why is he so OBSESSED? This is about more than just the Crown, it has to be!

She would have laughed again had doing so not had the possibility of giving her a mouthful of dirt. It was utterly ridiculous, the frenzied pace Raphael was at, the rapid rutting into her. It felt like he hated and craved her at the same time.

"I will have the Crown," he snarled, pulling her back up by the hair, hips still moving against her own furiously, "I will have YOU, and then--then, you will NEVER escape me."

A groan. One clawed hand moved to her hip and clenched hard, drawing blood, and the other moved up to her throat.

"Haarlep will have a new playmate, and you...will never..."

She heard the groan that signaled his closeness to climax, and tried to relax--but his savage pace made that impossible. His grip at her throat tightened too, making it harder and harder to breathe.

"...NEVER...leave the House of Hope...again!"

With a triumphant groan, Raphael finally spilled. Inside her his cock twitched and pulsed itself empty. She ached, from the pace, from the lack of preparation, from--

Everything.

It had been too fast for her to get anything from it, and her suspicions were only confirmed when Raphael spoke again.

"Sixteen minutes...exactly."

He was breathing hard as he let go, and Tav tried not to think too hard about the gush of his seed from her cunt when he finally withdrew.

"You won't come to bed with a man ever again without thinking of me first. That--that, I promise you."

He left.

Shaking, Tav fixed her gown and healed the wound at her hip--then reached for the bag she'd put Gortash's things in.

One drink. One small drink, something to calm the sudden rush of fear, the disgust with herself. One drink and NO MORE. She gasped as she took a swig from the bottle of whiskey, and corked the bottle again to stop herself going for a second.

Sixteen minutes. She could do that. It wasn't that long. On her knees it might mean another four or even five sessions, but if he kept up this practice of only using her like this, then...it could be less.

It was almost over, thank the gods.

The door opened suddenly, and--in walked Cald.

"Mother! Mother!"

"What, what's wrong?"

"It--the thing--"

BOOM

In the distance, a loud crash. The earth beneath them shook, and Tav fell over, nearly breaking the bottle in her hands in the process.

"The thing you talked about, the big ship! The mindflayer ship!"

Tav paled.

"I saw it burning and falling!"

No...

The nautiloid was crashing, and she still owed Raphael sixteen minutes.

[kndll-art]

whiskey / drinker moth

130x215mm / watercolour

instagram

[biitchcakes]

"she's like, your age." is so interesting to me and has made me laugh since they confirmed it because it means Jessica Drew fully Mothers™️ Gwen and Cindy while being in the same general age bracket.

also means she's a lot younger than a good number of her fellow Avengers when she's on the team.

[driaswrld]

and if i say higuruma is a wine guy and nanami is a whiskey guy WHAT THEN RYLIE @kentopedia

[wittness]

liquor store anon! update: i have tried it!

it’s actually pretty nice! which says a lot considering it’s our first ever whiskey try :]. i can see us enjoying it once we get a more ✨ acquired taste ✨.

personally though, yeah! i enjoy it, a solid pick kiddo, thank you for the recommendation. if i had the ability back on helios, i’d for sure have it in my rounds 👍🏽.

consider your fave handsome jack approved!

[skinreflectsthesun]

Is it not weird that like the majority of Father’s Day gifts are alcohol related..?

[butterbourbonandothersins]

How to Score a Bottle of Pappy Van Winkle

Pappy Van Winkle’s retail suggested prices range from about $70 to $300, depending on the bottle. Unfortunately, when it leaves the shelves and is sold on the secondary market, prices skyrocket.

Image Credit: https://www.instagram.com/p/CXrIPubJ1i_/ Pappy Van Winkle may be one of the most famous bourbons around, and it’s not just because of its quality, although the quality is at the highest level and to be respected. Still, it’s a little bit about the mystery of it as well. Where do all the bottles of Pappy Van Winkle go? Why is it so hard to find? The hefty price tag According to…

[atangledfate]

Never have I ever found a certain pink hedgehog attractive

" ... Amy's Hot... i ain't apologizin' "

Whisper giving Tangle a concerned look---but not her type!

" We keep this between us--- got it..."

Tangle 4

Whisper 1

Lanolin 3

[acommonloon]

out gallivanting I stumbled upon a rare beast I've been coveting from afar.

Okay, "stumbled upon" is mischaracterization. I dropped D at the outlets and drove as fast as I could, a half hour north, to one of the best bottle shops in the state. Big Red Liquors - Cask Strength is well, a store in the Big Red Liquor chain but it's Cask Strength so, you know, way better.

It's is actually better for my tastes. They are close enough to Taxman Brewing to carry all their small release beers I don't get distributed to the southeastern part of the state and they carry beer from Tennessee, I crave, and holy frijoles, beer from the now defunct Trappist brewery in Massachusetts, I've always wanted to try but have never found, despite quite alot of gallivanting.

Score!

There were more but, the real surprise, even more surprising than peach saison from Spencer, was this odd bird from Todd Leopold and Dickel.

I first read about this "new" old kind of whiskey more than a year ago. Leopold, considered a bit of a mad genius in the distilling world, posted a video where he proclaimed he'd discovered the long lost holy grail...of American whiskey.

He said, he was looking through some old... nevermind here's the video if your interested

So he had Vendome in Louisville make him a new old kind of (3 chamber) still and used a heritage variety rye. Because he's small fry, in the whiskey world, he partnered with Dickel who had some rye just lying around and they put out this new-old style whiskey. Exciting!

I looked all over but couldn't find it. I checked the plethora of "whiskey by the glass bars" in the Louisville area but nobody had it. After months of looking, I finally found a bottle!.. in the glass case at Total wine. No, I wasn't so enamored by the hoopla, I'd buy the bottle without tasting it first. That bottle was soon gone and - squirrel- I got distracted by other things.

When I saw it yesterday, I checked the price. $115 and my memory, honed by years of price checking, recognized it as the same price in Total Wine. So retail price. I've only paid so much for a bottle of whiskey a handful of times. I've established a firm policy of try before you buy at that price point.

So I asked if there was any bar nearby who might sell this whiskey by the glass. No, they said, so I paid for my beer and walked out. Then I walked back in. I'd noticed they advertised some of their whiskey as being available to taste. I asked if this one was, knowing it wasn't. I said, if I tasted it, and liked it, I'd buy it.

They said, let me check. A phone call later, they were opening a bottle - for me.

This was equal parts exciting and pressure.

I would finally get to taste this whiskey that promised to be...different. If it was, I'd gladly buy it. If it wasn't, I'd sadly buy it.

So, how was it?

Well it was different. In that it was rye whiskey that tasted like bourbon...to me. It reminded me of Knob Creek 120 proof, candy in a glass.

Keeping in mind, I'd just come from a brewery selling candied fruit beer in a glass, I was disappointed and relieved. At worst, it was whiskey I liked...but twice the price. Maybe it'll be different on a clean palate.

As I write this, my palate is unclean. I've been drinking

all day. This beer features bitter hops and no candy I can discern. No matter.

Some day I'll try it and will be happy or not.

[chelliebelle]

I DON'T SEE A RING ON YOUR FINGER | n. kento

꩜ SUMMARY . . having just finalized his divorce, a bitter kento tries to find the end to his sorrows in the bottom of a liquor bottle. but when a pretty young thing comes fluttering by his side, he decides there's no better time to get laid than now. ꩜ WORD COUNT . . 4.9k words of flith <333 ꩜ CONTAINS . . smut, divorcee!kento, reader is described as slutty, age gap (reader is in her early twenties and kento is in his late thirties), sexual frustration, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, rough sex, biting, spitting, they're kind of drunk, choking, bruising, pussy drunk!kento ꩜ AUTHOR'S NOTE . . kento's balls practically shriveled during his sexless marriage so best believe he's gonna enjoy himself!!

Nanami Kento had it all. 

A two-story house in the suburbs, a high-paying job, a beautiful wife—he had the perfect life. And damn did he hate every second of it. He hated waking up in that house to greet his nosy neighbors, hated driving to his soul sucking office job, and especially hated going home to his wife every night. She’d leave him leftovers in the fridge and kiss him goodnight before bed, and Kento would stay up every night wondering how to escape this limbo.

Tonight was the first time he felt free in years. Sitting at some shitty bar he can't remember the name of, he absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding band. Months ago, this little piece of metal meant everything. A loving marriage. A promise of a future. A sign of success. Now? It's just a worn-out ring that he can't throw out.

Kento sighed, setting it down on the table in favor of a glass of whiskey, letting it burn down his throat as he took a sip. He was never a drinker, but maybe it was something he repressed over the years. What else had he missed out on while trying to play Mr. Perfect?

Right, sex.

Kento was so obsessed with a picture perfect life that he even married someone he barely knew. She was pretty and nice enough—boring as fuck now that he thought about it—but that was enough for him to get down on one knee and take her down the aisle. What he didn't take into account was his own needs. All a man needed after a long day of work was some pussy, and he was no different. Mrs. Nanami was beautiful, sure, but one hell of a prude. If he was lucky, he got laid about once a month. Even then, she'd just lay stiff on the bed while he fucked her. If Kento didn't see the rise and fall of her chest, he'd assume he was sleeping with a corpse.

This meant that every night after his wife fell asleep, he'd go to his study to jack off to porn on his computer. It was enough for him to go to bed without a raging hard-on, but only having his hand to rub his cock raw all the time took a toll on him. Kento stopped initiating anything with Mrs. Nanami, opting to go straight online whenever he felt his dick twitch. For years, he lived like this.

Wake up, go to work, get home, say goodnight to wife, jack off.

Until a few months ago when his wife said she wanted a divorce. She must've been expecting him to start a fight, because her face fell when Kento nodded without a second thought. It was a long time coming. Sure, he believed he should've been the one to divorce her, but at least he was gonna be free. The days after she moved out was the happiest he had ever been. Waking up in an empty bed and coming home to an even colder bed filled him with a sense of contentment he thought he'd never feel again.

Cheers to being single, he thought to himself as he ordered another drink. As he waited, he couldn't help but sigh. The ink on his divorce papers hadn't even dried yet and he was already thinking of getting his dick wet. Kento hadn't had good pussy since he was twenty. The thought of cheating never even passed his mind during his marriage, opting the company of his own right hand over breaking the promise he made to his wife. Ex-wife.

He brought the rim of the glass to his lips, eager to drink himself to sleep, until the scraping of a barstool broke his concentration. "Drinking alone, handsome?"

The voice was soft and feminine, making him turn his head in curiosity. It came from a young girl, probably still in college but wearing a tight dress that looked like it came off a stripper. Kento wasn't a boomer by any means, but he still found himself disapproving how there was more skin than fabric on her body.

Kids these days.

Retrieving his gaze, he let out a quiet hmm before turning back to his drink. That didn't deter you, a girlish giggle leaving your lips as you leaned towards him.

"Seriously, there's no way you're here alone. Is this a set up? Where are the hidden cameras?"

College kids were so weird these days. With a scrunch between his brows, he shakes his head as he lets out a low rumble that makes your stomach twist. "Sorry to disappoint, kid. It's just me, no hidden cameras."

When he turns his head to face you, he's surprised at how close you were to him. Kento could smell the vodka shots off your breath. It reminded him of when he was as young as you were, getting drunk off cheap liquor. A soft pink dusted your cheeks, along with a tipsy smile that made his chest warm for some reason. You seemed to catch him staring, reaching out to rest your hand on his bicep.

"You look like...really put together. Like you do your taxes and sleep early or something."

The choked cough he lets out when you touch him makes the whiskey burn up his nose, hand coming up to cover half his face. Just a friendly gesture from a girl made him act like this? Get it together, Kento. Scoffing, he shrugged off your hand as he looked away. You pout as he does so and the sight fills him with regret immediately. Before he can apologize, you knock your head against his shoulder, nuzzling against him like a spoiled kitten. Guilt pools in the pit of Kento's stomach when his cock twitches in his slacks. Not now!

"Do you have a name, handsome mystery man?" you mumble against his shirt, the action making his loins burn. He seriously considers pushing you away but decides you're probably too drunk to function right now. After a few beats pass, he reluctantly grumbles a "Kento" in response. You're quiet save for a soft hum and Kento is left hating himself for getting hard at how clingy you're being.

Poor girl, you're clinging to someone who you think looks dependable in this shady ass bar. Or at least that's what he thinks until you grab his wrist and bring it up to your face. For a moment, he assumes you're trying to get a look at the Rolex around his wrist, the sleek gold glinting in the air. He has to repress a sigh—until he realizes your attention is actually on his hands. Kento's fingers are lengthy from years of typing at his desk everyday, the digits at least twice as thick as yours. Pretty veins run along his knuckles and up his forearms, disappearing under the fabric of his rolled sleeves. You can't help but sigh, eyes flickering up to his with admiration.

"Your hands are like, really...big."

He immediately pulls his hand away with a bewildered look, clicking his tongue as he adjusted the watch around his wrist, ignoring the whine you let out.

"What does that even mean?" he huffs, his fingers twitching at the traces of heat from your delicate hand grabbing his. You giggle at his reaction, slumping against him until your chest presses against his arm.

"I wonder what you can do with them, m'sure you'd know how to use them good."

Oh. Oh. When his gaze connects with your breasts that are almost spilling out the top of your dress and the sultry look in your eyes, only then does he realize that he's being hit on.

"Look, kid. I'm m—" he catches himself before he finishes his sentence. Fuck, was he going to say he was married? The wedding band in his other hand suddenly felt much heavier and he quickly shoves it in his pocket.

"...much older than you, I'm almost twice your age."

Another mellifluous giggle leaves your lips and Kento has to hold himself back from shutting you up so that blood stops rushing to his dick.

"I think you're flirting with me," you tease, rubbing your chest against his arm. If he focuses, he swears he can feel your hardened buds brushing against him through your dress. Not even wearing a bra, you're begging to be fucked. The thought of being the one to take you home tonight passes his mind but he shoves it away. You're drunk and almost half his age, it'd be wrong. All rational thought comes flying out the window when your hot breath fans against his ear.

"But, I also think you're really hot, Kento. So maybe we can..."

Your words fall on deaf ears as his eyes flutter shut and his head tilts back. Kento was never a religious man, but in this moment he prayed to the gods above for clarity. You were offering yourself up to him like a hog on a silver platter, tied up with an apple in your mouth for him to devour. He couldn't help but imagine your glassy eyes rolling into the back of your head, your sweet lips hanging open when he drives his cock deep into your tight and wet cunt—

Fuck it.

Will he ever get another chance to bring a pretty young thing like you home? The thought is what drives him as he grabs your wrist to drag you out the bar and into his car.

When you approached the hot stranger earlier, you sure didn't expect that it'd end with you moaning with his hand between your legs.

Drunk out of your mind, your gaze had fell onto the brooding man at the bar, eyeing his rippling muscles under his crisp blue shirt. Now that was a back you'd love to scratch up. It didn't take long for you to stumble on your too-high heels towards the blonde man. You were never this forward but something about him had you squeezing your thighs together. Maybe it was the silent classiness that screamed luxury, the heat in his eyes that burned every time his gaze lingered on you—or maybe it was how he practically flung you over his shoulder and ran all the red lights to take you home.

But never in a million years had you expected that man to be this nasty.

His lips tasted like heavy liquor, tongue sloppily tangling with yours as he slammed you against the door, one hand coming up to cup your jaw. You were used to bad french kisses from frat boys, all teeth and smelly breath, but the way Kento was devouring you made you lightheaded. 

"What a dirty mouth, wonder if you pussy's even wetter."

He pushed your legs apart with his foot and let his hand wander up your inner thigh. You gasp when he finds your mound, panties thoroughly soaked. The scoff that leaves his lips makes your cheeks flush. He cooes as he drag a thick digit along the clothed slit of your cunt, swallowing up your weak moans with his mouth.

"I don't even need to prep you," he chuckles, shaking his head as his thumb prods at your bud hidden beneath your folds.

"You have such a smart cunt, s' already drooling for me."

Kento pulls his hand from between your legs and grabs the back of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. Head still spinning from the alcohol, you lose your balance, but the death grip he has keeps you upright as he carries you to his bedroom.

It's scantily decorated and you note that the bed it a bit too big for someone living alone, but you forget all about it when your back hits the plush mattress.

His eyes are wide as if he's trying to commit the sight of you to memory, every exposed sliver of skin and plush flesh permanently burned into his mind. Before you know it, Kento's hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, squeezing your thighs, yanking your dress up like he's unwrapping the first real gift he's ever had. Your slutty dress is long forgotten on his bedroom floor, and fuck, he's hard. Painfully so.

How can't he be when your sweet body is all on display for him?

Kento can't find it in him to give a damn about some dress when all he can see are your perky tits, so soft and malleable. He doesn't spare a moment to admire the view, slapping your breasts till they jiggled deliciously. Before you can whine about how mean he's being, he attacks your tender chest, lips wrapping around the mounds of flesh. It catches you off-guard and you tug at his hair, but he only bites down around your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud.

"Don't." 

His voice is a low growl you never heard before, and damn if it didn't make your clit throb with need. Right on cue, he pries your legs apart and gets on his knees between them, mouth never leaving your breast. The way his hips grind against you is vicious, as if he's been waiting years for this. Which, in a way, he has. Kento has spent too many nights in his cold bed, jerking off to the thought of someone warm beneath him. Now that he has it? Best believe he's not letting you go tonight.

Your heat seeps through the fabric of your underwear and he can tell that you're making a mess all over the front of his slacks, his bulge covered in your slick. Clicking his tongue, he pushes your knees against your chest to come face-to-face with your clothed core. His thumb tugs at the lace of your panties, lifting your hips to slide it over your ass and letting the flimsy fabric dangle on your ankle.

He intended to teach you a lesson, but his brain short-circuits when he sees your weeping cunt. Your chubby lips were glistening with slick from his teasing, that pretty clit hidden under your swollen folds. Kento hasn't had a taste of pussy in years, so he can't resist leaning forward to roll his tongue against your slit.

Immediately he's gone.

He laps at you like a man starved, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Mrs. Nanami was never this wet for him and it had messed with his confidence for a while, but your sweetness was all it took to bring him back. His cock twitches at the sight of you writhing under him, the front of his slacks now completely stained with precum. Kento nearly forgot to breathe with how absorbed he was in your pussy.

“You're like a piece of candy,” he mouths against your sensitive cunt, pushing the tip of his tongue into your warm entrance. “So sweet, can eat you up all night.”

Your thighs tremble and clamp around his head, the action only pushing him closer against your waiting heat, nose bumping against your clit. Kento moaned as he flattened his warm tongue against you, making out with your cunt with more fervor than when he had kissed you. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Kento completely forgets about his aching hard-on, hips instinctively rutting against the mattress with every swipe of his tongue. Your lips were so puffy that he couldn't resist biting down, latching his lips onto your neglected bud and sucking hard.

You almost cry out at the sensation, reaching your hand down to pull at his hair as you thrash under him, feeling your thighs quiver. "S'too much! Gonna make me come—"

SMACK.

His palm had landed flat on your cunt.

"None of that. You wanted my attention, now take it." 

The mean rumble of his voice along with the harsh slap against your sensitive heat sent you over the edge, coming onto Kento's face as your back arched off the bed. He was more than eager, lips hanging open as he swallowed up every drop of your sweetness.

Like heaven on his tongue.

Your taste was addictive, making him groan with every bob of his Adam's apple. Kento slurps up all the wetness he can get, chin glistening with your essence once he pulls away. The sudden orgasm had you panting, only coming back to your senses when you heard the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor, lifting your head up at the exact moment Kento tugged his ruined boxers down.

His heavy cock slapped against his sweaty washboard abs, leaking onto his abdomen. You had seen enough subpar dicks in your life to know that he was big, the idea of it stretching you open making your pussy drool. Pretty veins ran along the base, leading up to his thick tip that was already dribbling pearls. It was an angry red, sensitive from rubbing against the fabric of his slacks. You could've sworn his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.

He reluctantly rolls on a condom, mumbling something under his breath as he strains against the pink rubber. Should just fuck this pussy raw. Luckily, he still had enough common sense to stop him from begging you to let him go in without protection. Kento grabs your thighs, hefty length dragging down your slit as he positioned himself between your legs. With his cock resting on your mound, you can tell he's gonna be so deep in your tummy that you'll feel him tomorrow.

“I'll make sure of it, pretty girl,” he chuckles, slapping his member against your puffy clit.

Did you actually say that out loud—?

Your cheeks puffed up at his words, an embarassed flush on your face at your little slip-up. He's so heavy between your legs that you wonder how he'll even fit. Kento's hand reaches to pull you flush against him by the ankle, propping your leg up his shoulder, groaning as his cock dragged between your lips.

"You're so wet," he muses, pumping himself lazily before he lined himself up your entrance. "Bet you're gonna take me like a good girl, hmm?"

You gasp when he pushes his flushed cockhead between your swollen folds, struggling past tight rings of muscle. So tight. Fuck, he should've known—you were just a little brat who thought she could handle him. He hisses as your walls clamp down around his tip, nails digging into your hips as he tries to catch his breath. 

"Loosen up, sweetheart. You're gonna snap off my dick."

Kento stayed like that, tip twitching inside your warm pussy, before he pushes forward once more. He's bigger than any cock you've taken before. Unprepared for the stretch, your brows knit together when he bullies his way into your cunt. He barely makes it a few inches in before your eyes start to water. Your insides were being stuffed to the brim. You take a deep breath, weakly shaking your head as your thighs tremble.

"K-Kento, please—" Please? 

You didn't even know what you were begging for, did you? How cute. With a sigh, he pulls out from the comfort of your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief, before a warm liquid hit your bare lips. With the viscosity dribbling between your folds, you realized that was Kento's spit. Your gaze flickered up towards him but he focused on other things—like the way your clit twitched when his saliva hit the neglected bud. Eyes dark and brows knitted, he reached down to thumb at your sensitive nub, a choked moan leaving your lips.

"Ease up, that's right," he praised, using the wetness to roll his hips forward. 

Your walls fluttered around him, your moans egging him on as he continued to feed you more of his monster cock. Kento never needed this amount of prep with Mrs. Nanami, considering she always seemed so...bored. He was even beginning to think he was bad at sex! But the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head told him all he needed to know. A low groan rumbled in his chest when he finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix. After so long with only his hand as company, he worried he'd come the second he was inside you. The way you were squeezing his dick didn't help either. Kento swallowed hard, trying to take deep breaths as he let you adjust to his size.

"How are you so tight?" 

When his panting reached your ears, you let out a slurred mumble, eyes unfocused as you tried to look up. He leaned down, forehead resting against yours to regain his composure. Body covering yours, he only buried himself deeper all the way to the hilt. It was like your mind went blank.

"Ngh—you're just too big!" you managed to shout, eyes glassy from how he kept nudging against your womb.

That was all it took for Kento to lose his mind.

Locking an arm around your leg, he fucked into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his hips snapped forward. His pace was merciless, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every mean thrust. 

"Yeah? How deep am I?" he growled, his grip on your waist bruising.

 All the way in my tummy, you try to say, but you were too fucked out to answer. Just a few thrusts had you dumb on his cock, glossy lips hanging open weakly. The sight makes Kento chuckle, holding onto your thighs as his skin smacked against yours.

It had been years since he had been in a pussy this wet and eager for him. He was in love with your cunt. The slickness as he slid past your folds, the way your walls tried to milk him—but the cock drunk look in your eyes was the cherry on top. Kento turns his head to the side, pressing kisses onto your calf as he fucked you. 

Come back, pretty girl.

When he notices your lack of response, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh, emphasized with a harsh thrust that made you scream. "Kento, slow down," you cry out, heat churning in your belly from the cruel pistoning of his hips.

He only chuckles, shaking his head before he sped up his pace. The shocked look in your eyes made him reach down to rub tight circles on your clit for relief. Loud squelches and the slapping of skin-on-skin filled the air, the room reeking of sweat and sex. Kento's eyes locked on the way your ass bounced back against his pelvis with every thrust, cock twitching as he thought of taking you from behind. He continued to jackhammer into you, strings of profanities leaving his lips. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. As you mumbled incoherently on the verge of tears, a hand wrapped around your throat.

"Shh. Your sweet pussy's talkin' to me," he tuts, squeezing your throat to shut you up. 

His hand completely engulfed your neck, rough palm pressed tightly against your pulse. Gasping for breath, you could feel your head spin from the lack of air. You rake your nails along his back, digging crescents into his skin to try and make him let go. Kento hissed at the sensation, cockhead slamming hard against your g-spot. It was too much—the delicious stretch of his cock, the way his tip kissed your gummy insides with every thrust, his hand around your throat—the knot in your stomach snapped. Even when you tried to push the heat down, your climax ripped through you like white lightning. 

Your back arched off the bed, cursing out Kento's name as your orgasm shook through your body. The man nearly collapsed on top of you, a sharp groan leaving his lips as your walls clamped down and milked his cock so suddenly. His grip on your throat loosens and you thrash under him. 

You might die from how good he's dicking you down. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you stumble as you get on your hands and knees to try and crawl off the bed. A pair of rough hands grab onto your waist, followed by heavy panting that makes your blood run cold.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Kento spits, dragging you back against him. 

He'd be damned if he let the first good pussy he's had in years get away. Even when you try to thrash and break free, your body is too weak from coming so hard! His palm lands a harsh smack against your ass, your arms collapsing under your body as you cried out. Kento pushed your head down into the pillows, propping you up by the back of your knees. Face down, ass up. The sight of you so vulnerable with your glistening pussy on display made him lick his lips, quickly positioning himself behind you. 

"Naughty girl, trying to run away from me," he tuts, swiping his tip up and down your creamy folds.

As punishment, he reached down to pinch your clit, earning a choked sob from you. He rolled the bud between his fingers, resting his free hand on the plush of your ass. Cock throbbing for release, he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust, setting up a mean pace immediately.

Yep, might die from this dick. 

Every slam of his hips against yours had you sobbing into the pillows, the fabric damp with your salty tears. Your body was still reeling from your multiple orgasms, cunt fluttering around him. Even if it was too much, Kento was fucking you so good your insides had molded to every ridge and vein of his cock. Your tits jiggled with every thrust and he wasted no time in grabbing your hefty breasts, playing with your soft nipples. He buried his head in the tender area where your neck and shoulders connected, groaning against you. 

Kento was getting close, you could tell from how frantically he rutted into you. His cock throbbed inside you, pulsing against your gummy walls. You couldn't resist the urge to push your ass back into him, making his dick hit even deeper inside you. You were half sure he was bulging through your tummy at this point. The action made him suck in shallow breaths through his teeth, keeping a death grip on your ass as he bulllied your cunt.

"Fuuuck, I'm gonna come," he groans into your shoulder.

His face scrunched up in pleasure, panting heavily into your skin as he buried his cock deeper and deeper. Seeing such a composed man this broken made your cheeks flush. Your walls were heavenly, every clench pushing him closer to the edge. 

Screw his hand. Coming from your pussy squeezing him was better that jacking off to any porno he could watch online. 

With a strangled moan, Kento shot thick spurts of cum into the condom, as if he hadn't finished in years. He collapsed on top of you, the orgasm rendering him unable to even hold himself up anymore. It was like losing his virginity all over again. You whine as the rubber began to fill up with his load, heavy in your pussy. After a few moments to catch your breath, you tried to push yourself off him, worried he'd spill into you.

"We should probably take that off—" 

Kento shut you up immediately, grabbing your waist to drag your hips back on top of him. Now straddling his lap, his still hard cock prodded new places you had never even touched before, a pathetic moan leaving your lips. His blonde hair was messy and dripping with sweat, eyes glazed over as his cheeks flushed. You felt him twitch inside you when he met your gaze, the same fucked-out look in both your eyes. He definitely wasn't done with you yet.

"It's only midnight, sweetheart."

You'd be lucky to come out of here alive.

You spent the rest of the night going several rounds, trying every position possible before collapsing from exhaustion. What's for sure—sex would never be the same ever again. How could you go back to one night stands with shitty frat bros when an older man just gave you the dicking down of your life? 

The next morning, you roll on your side to see Kento sitting at the edge of the bed. His bare back was wrecked, littered with vicious nail marks and lipstick stains. You chew on your bottom lip, pulling the duvet over your chest. 

"Are we gonna see each other again?" you croak, voice hoarse from last night.

The muscles in his back tensed at your words. Kento didn't want to see the hickeys and bruises on your skin, undeniable marks of the years of frustration he took out on you. He actually slept with a girl almost half his age right after getting divorced.

Talk about issues. 

Though his stomach churned with guilt, the memories of last night flashed through his mind. How eager you were for him, your sopping cunt, your sweet whines. He was even starting to imagine what it'd be like to sink into you raw.

He couldn't deny how addicted he was to your body. Doing this once was one thing, but agreeing to meet you again? Kento let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a few moments, he spoke up.

"Let me check my schedule, pretty girl."

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