ellexamor - Tumblr blog

ellexamor · 14 days ago

Text

Warnings. NSFW🔞 MATURE content, smelly college au nerdjo, HE SUCKS HIS OWN DICK, childhood friends, accidental breeding, virginity loss, voyeurism, idiots in love. Part 1 but you don’t rly need to read it.

“Honey,” SelfSucker!Gojo’s mom pauses her conversation with your mother to call to you from the stove, “will you go get Toru down here?”

A few minutes ago his mother called for him to come down from his room because dinner would be ready soon but he hasn’t, despite shouting that he’d be down soon.

“That boy is always playing that animal game on his cpu,” she tuts, making your mother chuckle. You think she’s datedly referring to Digimon, but you’re no expert on things like that— not compared to nerdy Satoru anyway.

Every Friday since you were toddlers, you, Satoru, and your mothers eat dinner together while your fathers go off to wherever. They tell their husbands it’s to catch a break every now and then, but it’s really for your mothers to gossip and drink wine all night while the ‘kids,’ you and Satoru, keep each other company. Many, many Friday dinners later, and their house feels like a second home to you.

You pause your movie and stand from the couch, humming a polite affirmation to the request. You know dinner likely won’t be ready anytime soon since both moms always get distracted, but you still heed her call and begin walking up the stairs to relay the message.

You pass pictures hung along the walls as you make your way down the hall, some portraying Satoru’s little family along the years, a few of your mothers, and too many of you and Satoru as children.

Satoru’s door. The ‘No boys allowed’ sign that 15 year old Satoru deemed hilarious and profoundly clever still hangs crooked on his door. The idea of a girl other than yourself and his mother ever crossing this threshold voluntarily is a stretch, considering his less than subtle lack of hygiene and messy tendencies.

You don’t knock before opening his door since he’s —more often than not— slouched over his bright monitor and keyboard with bulky headphones on full blast.

The stuffy, unventilated air of his room fans your face as you swing the door open and begin your automated message, “Your mom wants—”

You stall immediately, your bored eyes widen drastically when you catch sight of Satoru, who’s not in his usual spot at his desk.

He’s attempting to suck his own dick, to put it bluntly. The incredibly tall man is curled in on himself atop his messy Pokémon sheets like an armadillo, ass up. His deeply hued pink, lengthy dick is hanging over his own open mouth while his lanky hands push into his mid back in attempt to stretch it enough to get his tip past his lips.

He’s immediately and visibly panicked at your sudden presence. His reaction plays in less than half a second: His desperate tongue snaps back into his mouth, retreating from its endeavor at uniting with his sensitive tip. Owlish blue eyes lock on you, fast, as his brows knit together to show off utter embarrassment. You gasp sharply, surprise still stuck on your face, when he falls off of his bed and onto the floor awkwardly.

“Y-You— knock! You have to—you have to knock!” He’s shouting at you as he poorly recovers from his tumble, making sure to shove his sweatpants back up before standing up with a stumble.

His panicked, confrontational voice directed at you makes you feel defensive and just as frenzied.

“Sorry! Sor— I never knock— I never— sorry!” you defensively squawk, yanking the door shut mid yap as if giving him privacy now will do anything.

The sign on his door topples to the ground with the strength behind your swing. Your face burns dangerously hot as you scramble to pick it up and fumble it back onto the hook before racing away from his room.

You almost trip hurrying down the stairs and sink into the couch, seeking solace in a throw blanket you pull up to your nose with your knees to your chest.

“He coming?”

You almost choke. Your eyes snap away from the tv screen that feels much further away than before, over to Satoru’s mother who’s looking at you in question, casually.

“W-What?”

She cooly repeats her question, “is Toru coming down?”

“Oh— yeah, he’s— I think so,” you nod aimlessly before turning back to stare blankly at the tv. You honestly aren’t sure if he’s coming down or not, considering.

Satoru’s mother nods and returns her attention to plating dinner with your mother.

A few minutes later, you gulp as you hear muffled footsteps coming down the stairs.

You don’t dare to openly glance at him as Satoru’s mom acknowledges his arrival.

“Look who finally decided to bless us with his presence,” you hear her tease him rhetorically, followed by your mother asking Mrs. Gojo what serving utensils she wants to use.

Satoru doesn’t say anything as your moms chatter on, but you can assume based on the noise that he’s grabbing some glasses for drinks to help out.

You’re just so distracted with the movie you absolutely are watching, that you definitely don’t notice when Satoru’s heavy gaze focuses in on the side of your head. That’s what you’re pretending anyways. You don’t even have to look to feel it, but it’s brief, like he’s hoping you don’t notice his peek. It’s half of a second of observation that affirms to him that you are just going to ignore and ‘forget’ what you saw.

Dinner is filled with your mothers cackling to each other about some reality romance tv show while you avidly avoid any possible eye contact with Satoru. There’s a clear, awkward tension in the air as you sit beside him and poke at your food, but your moms aren’t perceptive enough of your dynamic to notice.

You help out after dinner, picking up plates to take to the sink and Satoru’s already making an obvious move to go back upstairs.

“No, no, no you don’t mister,” Mrs Gojo chides, making him pause and slowly turn his head to look at his mother with the lenses of his bulky glasses gleaming, blocking the sight of his eyes. “Help out and then you two can watch your little movie.”

She says it as though Satoru was just trying to skip cleaning so he can watch a movie with you sooner, when that can’t be further from the truth and you both know it. You haven’t held up that- movie after dinner- tradition since you were twelve. Satoru grumbles to himself, but inevitably starts helping.

Eventually, one thing leads to another and you’re washing dishes while Satoru dries beside you. Other than the running water, you can distantly hear your mother’s boisterous laughing and loud chatter coming from upstairs in Mrs. Gojo’s room where they drink wine and girl talk every Friday after dinner.

As you wash a plate, you notice the suds are growing less and less. You need more soap. You glance over at the bottle that’s closer to Satoru than yourself.

“Could you—”

He almost drops the bowl in his hand. “I wasn’t doing anything— ! I just— I just had a scratch on my back and— and I know what it looked like but it wasn’t anything weird or something.” Satoru interrupts you, nervously like the defense has been waiting at the tip of his tongue. His hands are shaking where they grip the drying cloth, an incessant squeak can be heard throughout his speech from drying the bowl that’s already much too dry, frantically.

You pause washing to blink up at him.

“Uh—” you clear your throat and point to the bottle, “I was gonna ask if you could hand me the soap.”

A beat of silence. His cheeks are flaming pink and his lanky torso is tight, straighter than his usual slouch.

“Oh.”

He awkwardly wraps his long fingers around the bottle and squeezes some soap onto your sponge.

You gulp at the silence and continue washing, eyeing the few dishes you have left.

“I—” you begin, eyes locked onto the sudsy dish, “I’m sorry for just—for just coming in without knocking. —Whatever you were doing.”

You continue.

“It’s just, I never knock. I just thought— I never knock and— fuck I don’t know— sorry.” You’re not trying to make an excuse but you feel the need to defend yourself after seeing what you did, like it’s your fault.

In the many years you’ve known Satoru, it was never a problem when you’d barge into his room without warning. He didn’t seem to care, until now. Clearly you lost the silent memo that privacy was necessary now.

He clears his throat and uses an awkward hand to shove his glasses up, instinctively. “I know. I accept your apology, but you don’t— you don’t really need to say sorry. I was just scratching my back anyways.”

You hum a quick, high-pitched affirmation, side eye flicking at him briefly. Right.

You finally finish up. Satoru awkwardly stands in place, watching you dry your hands as if he’s not sure when or how he should make his leave.

You glance at him and speak hesitantly, “Wanna— um, watch a movie?”

You’re almost expecting socially stunted Satoru to bluntly tell you no and leave. Instead, he nods in one harsh affirmation— like a soldier formally addressing their colonel.

“Sure. Yes. I wanna.”

You huff in amusement when he doesn’t make any move to lead in his own house.

His socked feet shuffle behind you until you’re plopping down onto the living room couch.

Satoru throws in the DVD that’s worn from your past uses without having to ask you what you want to watch as you adjust to get comfortable on the sofa.

Then, he scratches the back of his head lazily as he moves towards the light switches and turns them off so the large TV is the only source of dim light fluttering over the living room. It’s like he’s on autopilot because when you were young, you’d always beg Satoru to get up and turn the lights off as you watch your movie together so you didn’t have to.

The couch dips as he sits beside you, he likely didn’t even think twice about it because he’s not leaving too much space between you— not that you mind.

You’ve practically had this movie memorized by now, and your thoughts drift to more interesting things as it drones on.

You tilt your head towards him and part your lips, just to hesitate and brush it off. You think it was subtle enough to slide past Satoru’s perception but you’re wrong.

Satoru blinks repeatedly, his gaze flickering from you to the screen and back.

“What?”

“What?” You repeat, feigning ignorance.

“You were gonna say something,” he points out. Anyone else would get the hint and give up, but not Satoru.

You shrug, “Just thinking, I don’t know.”

He angles his body to face you a bit more, his leg bending and the couch adjusts with his weight.

“About what?”

You exhale and glance at his obvious focus that’s alternated completely from the movie, to you. Satoru has seen you go through your aggressive side part phase, the time you got grounded for a month at fifteen and ugly cried while you screamed for an hour, and the entire year you truly believed you were a vampire and would scream in agony any time the sun touched your skin. He’s seen some shit, and vise versa.

It’s not too difficult to abandon the movie and turn your body and attention towards him with intent to indulge your curiosities.

“Have—,” you glance at the opening of the living room that leads to the stairs where your mothers are and lower your voice a bit, “Have you actually done it before?”

“Done.. what?” He blinks at you, confused.

“You know,” you murmur shyly, whispering the next part, “sucked your own dick.”

Satoru eyes widen and he freezes. “I- I don’t— I don’t—what are you— I’d never—”

You shove his oddly sturdy shoulder and your cheeks warm. “Come on, Satoru. I saw you.”

His hands protectively slap over his flustered face, glasses and all like it’s his last defensive measure. He’s murmuring to himself, but it comes out as muffled noises. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was calling you stupid defensively.

“Hey.” You poke his hand but he doesn’t budge.

You huff, slightly amused, and after a beat of stillness, you gently pry two of his fingers away until it uncovers an eye.

“Look, I’m not judging you, okay?” you explain, and then shrug, “I’m just curious. It’s not like I’ll tell anyone.”

His adams apple bobs. He slowly places his long hands into his lap.

“Curious— um— about what, exactly?” His white lashes flutter as his eyes travel from his fidgeting hands to your face.

You chew on your bottom lip as your eyes flick to the side, thinking briefly.

“Have you ever succeeded?” You question eagerly and in a hushed tone.

“Like— it looked like,” you clear your throat, “you couldn’t reach.”

He glances over his shoulder at the entryway to the stairs to confirm you’re alone before pushing his glasses up.

“You won’t tell anyone?”

You shake your head and pull his hand up to force his long pinky to curl around yours. He can already tell you’re trying to pinky swear the way you used to when you were kids, with kisses.

“Swear,” you say definitively before twisting your interlocked hands until his fist is in front of you. You press your soft lips against it. He stops breathing.

Satoru’s in shock until you gesture dramatically for him to hurry, snapping him out of it enough to awkwardly press his puckered lips to your hand.

You smile into his fist at the sight of your locked-in promise, noses close to brushing, and pull your hand away.

You adjust in your seat enthusiastically, scooting closer to him until your knees are brushing his as you both sit with criss crossed legs.

“Now spill.”

He nods with a swallow, scratching the side of his head.

“It reaches,” he confirms with pink tinting his cheeks, “not all the way, but— enough.”

You inhale deeply while blinking, amusement and intrigue sitting on your chest as you process.

“Like your— uh— tip goes in?”

His eyes flick to the left briefly. “Just about.”

“Woah,” you exhale, “you’re flexable.”

He shrugs, “I think it’s because I’m so— long?”

Your brows raise and your eyes can’t help but trail languidly down to his lap.

He immediately shakes his head. “No, no, no I meant my body— my back, my stomach. Not my penis.”

“Oh.” You press your lips together to poorly hide your amusement and his face drops into a deeper red.

“We’re missing the movie—”

“So you suck on the tip or lick it?” You interrupt him curiously as if he didn’t even say anything.

“Uh— sucking hurts my neck so only for half a second,” he rubs the back of his neck, “so— so mostly licking.”

“Does it actually feel good?” You’re analyzing his every facial expression, intrigue hiding a splash of arousal. Every question feels more extensive than the last, and his heart is thrashing.

Satoru abruptly drops his face into the head rest cushion beside him and groans into it. His system is going into overdrive.

You huff a laugh. You’re not used to seeing him in this position, genuinely embarrassed having been caught in such a vulnerable state. Satoru is usually mean before he’s ever embarrassed or shy.

“I’m waiting,” you prod in a sing song voice and he slightly whines before sitting back up— slouching— but still.

“Do I have to answer that?” Despite his glasses, you can tell his gaze is down and off to the side.

“Absolutely.” You nod definitively with a proud tight- lipped smile, as if what you say, goes. Suddenly, he feels like his younger self being bossed around by you everywhere you two went.

“I don’t want to,” he mutters stubbornly under his breath.

“Come on,” you whine annoyingly, pushing even closer to him until your knees are slightly overlapping his shins, “I wanna know. It’s just me.”

“Yeah, it’s just you. And you’re a girl.”

You squint at him and lean back a bit. “What does that mean?”

“That this feels— wrong— weird—I don’t want to be talking to you about this,” he mumbles with a hint of irritation.

“Just because I don’t have a dick, doesn’t mean—”

He shakes his head, immediately and cuts you off with an authoritative ‘nuh uh,’ and you let out an amused scoff.

“What?” You urge him to explain, curiously. “Come on, why is it any different with me?”

“Because you’re hot. Seriously?” He grumbles and rolls his eyes at you. “And you saw me trying to suck on my own penis and your face when you walked in—” he ends the sentence with a groan, face falling right into his hands.

Honestly, you already thought he was a little weird before you caught him self sucking, but you’d never admit that and potentially hurt the smelly, awkward boy for no reason. You certainly didn’t know he cared what you thought of him, considering he’s usually unapologetically himself. Apparently, he does care what his childhood friend thinks.

“We all do weird things sometimes, that doesn’t make you weird.”

He shakes his head, face still shoved into his hands. “Not you.”

You huff through your nose, “I didn’t know you had so many opinions about me, Satoru.”

“I don’t. It’s a logical analysis from a scientific perspective. I have eyes.” His tone is more nasally than normal due to his face in his palms.

“You don’t know what I do when I’m alone. Me being weird or not is irrelevant,” you say looking down at his fluffy head that’s a bit greasy, “I get horny too.”

In a split second, his head shoot’s up desperately, almost knocking the back of it into your face on the way.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Satoru sit up so straight in his life. You’re forced to look up at him now, reminding you of how tall he really is. His glasses were left behind when he jolted up, and you can suddenly see the full intensity of his wide crystal blue eyes piercing into you with full focus.

You slightly adjust in your seat, borderline uncomfortable under that sharp gaze that’s roaming your entire persona as if he’s a computer collecting every piece of data in your soul at a high speed. Those eyes used to scare you straight out of bed with a scream when you were small and having little sleepovers with him— they still give you chills.

“You do?”

You cower a bit, not expecting such a reaction to what you thought was an obvious fact. “Um— yeah? Of course I do,” you murmur, brows furrowing.

He swallows and slides a pillow into his lap, gripping it.

You glance down at it. You blink at it. You glance back up at him.

“Did that make you hard..?” you slowly ask, voicing the obvious in hesitancy.

“A little.”

“Okay,” you pause, “why?”

He pushes up his glasses. “Because I thought about your vagina being wet. And then I started speculating about what your vagina looks like. And then how it tastes, because online—”

“Satoru,” you quickly interrupt him, flustered, pushing a palm to his lips, “shut up.”

He blinks and nods, making you take your hand off of his lips hesitantly. He reaches under the pillow and, you assume, adjusts his boner.

“Okay,” you change the subject, shaking your head of the imaginary vision of his hardening cock, “We’re getting off track. Don’t avoid the question.”

He rubs an eye, like it’s sore from having been using his glasses for so long before they fell off.

“It feels good enough,” he mumbles, spine already returning to his natural slouch, “but I have to kinda— like— focus.”

“On what?”

“On anything but the fact that I’m sucking dick, what do you think?”

You accidentally let a snort pass, and he sighs deeply to himself.

“Sorry sorry,” you shake your head, holding back a laugh.

“Are you done yet?” He murmurs in a whiny tone, eager to stop answering questions.

“Has it ever made you cum? And do you like— bust in your mouth? Or all over your face?”

Satoru suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, choking on his own spit and your brows furrow in concern.

“You okay?”

He nods as he coughs, brushing off your concern as you rub his back soothingly and briefly. He gasps for air as the fit calms.

“I’m fine,” he massages his throat and glances back at the opening to the stairs, “why do you want to know that?”

“I’m curious.” You shrug, although you’re ignoring the subtle throb in your clit.

“Curious about my cum.” He says it like it’s more of a statement than a question.

“What? No,” you defend yourself quickly, “No, I mean— kinda but— No, stop it. Don’t twist my words.”

Now, he snickers, wiping his nose against his sleeve.

“Shut up,” you shake your head with a small smile, pushing his shoulder. “Answer, freak.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, “It’s not like I mean to cum on my face. It just happens.”

You can’t help but drop your jaw in astonishment, unable to ignore the tingle in your lower abdomen.

He whines, “stop,” as he grabs your jaw with warm, shaky fingers and manually closes your mouth.

You gulp, subconsciously grabbing a few of his fingers from your face and pulling them down to your lap to hold onto like you need it to ground you. You’re not holding his hand, you’re more so awkwardly grabbing parts of it. Satoru glances at the connection, but you don’t seem to notice that you’re even holding it because you’re so focused on his words.

“So you’ve,” you blink rapidly, “tasted your own cum?”

He chews off a chunk of his inner lip and grumbles under his breath, “Yeah, I wish I didn’t— tastes nasty.”

“Like what?”

“You know wha—” Satoru almost slipped and confessed that you’ve tasted his cum before. On that fucking strawberry donut. You tilt your head at him, wondering why he stopped talking.

He clears his throat. “Skip.”

You blink. “Skip?”

He nods, definitively. “Skip.”

You squint at him for a beat, he doesn’t budge. You move on.

“Okay, How many times have you done it?”

He exhales in thought and shrugs. He holds up two fingers.

“Why did you do it in the first place? Like what was going through your mind?”

“Uh— That my hand doesn’t feel that good anymore.” He scratches his chest with the hand you’re not keeping prisoner in your lap.

You hum a short confirmation, huffing at his reasoning, and adjust his hand so it’s palm up. You silently ponder as you begin to trace his skin absently, the lines and ridges. Goosebumps race up his veiny, pale arm.

“You know, when a guy gets tired of their hand,” you smile in amusement, “I don’t think their first thought is their own mouth.”

He shakes his head. “Every guy has done it or tried to do it at least once,” he defends, “and if they say they haven’t, they’re lying.”

You giggle and he can’t help but breathe a little laugh with you.

“Still, why not just ask a girl out from class or something?” You continue to trace down his long fingers.

He snorts loudly and wipes his nose against his sleeve again. “Yeah, right.”

You glance up at him with furrowed brows, “Huh? I’m serious. Why not?”

He sniffs and shrugs, “I dunno. Whenever I’m around, they just..” he trails off.

You blink. “They just what?”

He looks down at your fingers trialing his palm. “Go away from wherever I am.” He doesn’t seem bothered, just stating facts.

You hum, tongue prodding your teeth in thought for a beat. You imagine it has something to do with his smell, his unkempt appearance, and honest-to-a-fault demeanor— he’s unapproachable. Even you’re guilty of this too, and you know it.

He continues in the face of your silence. “I’m not stupid, okay? I can tell girls don’t like me, I just— I don’t know why.”

An opportunity arises.

“Maybe,” you place his hand back down and coincidentally into your lap. He tries not to react to the fact that his palm happened to land on top of your clothed, warm inner thigh, “Maybe, I could help you with that— I mean, if you want.”

He blinks at you. “Help me with— help me with girls?”

You shrug. “Yeah, why not. Girls.”

He’s silent for once with his eyes trained down to your lap, and you tilt your head at his hesitancy.

“If you’re so desperate that you literally shove your own dick in your throat then what do u have to lose, huh?” You’re teasing him, clearly getting off on this new advancement in your ‘friendship.’ His face jolts into the human embodiment of an exclamation point.

He explodes, “It doesn’t even reach my throat, stupid— I don’t shove anything down my throat. I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”

You can’t hold back the laughter that bursts out of you before he even finishes speaking. You clasp your hand over your mouth but it continues to spill out. Satoru refuses to take his hand off of your inner thigh, even despite the embarrassing topic of conversation, because game is game, but he does use the other to cover his one of his hot ears because he just knows they’re probably the deepest shade of red.

“How exactly are you going to help me?”

Just as Satoru grumbles the question, both of your fathers waltz in. “Hey kids.”

Satoru jumps in place like he’s been caught, ripping his hand away from your thigh so dramatically that it makes each of your father’s brows quirk. You hadn’t even heard them open the front door.

You hide an amused smile at Satoru’s reaction and rise to your feet.

“You ready to go?” Your father asks, and you nod as Satoru’s father ruffles his son’s hair briefly in greetings. Though you just live next door, you still like to walk back with your dad.

As your father walks over to the front door, knowing your mother will likely stay longer, Satoru’s father walks upstairs to greet his wife. You bend down to whisper into Satoru’s ear.

“I’ll come over next Friday when my classes end.” You flick his forehead with a teasing grin and he rubs the injury with a grimace as you walk away. “Bye!” you shout just before his front door slams shut behind you.

Friday. 3:05 pm.

You let yourself into the Gojo front door with the key copy you received years ago.

Mrs. Gojo chirps, “Oh hi honey! Toru and the others are upstairs,” as you pass her to get to the stairs.

You pause at the bottom of the stairs and blink at her. “Others?”

She hums and nods her head with a smile before continuing to sort through her documents at the kitchen table.

You curiously climb the stairs and the closer you get to Satoru’s door, the sounds under it grow louder. Definitely more voices than just Satoru’s, as well as the loud music of a video game playing.

You stop yourself before you just barge in, again, and choose to knock instead.

Satoru’s voice answers your knock. “We don’t need anymore snacks, mom! We have chips and—”

You push open the door and the sight of you, instead of his mother, makes him shut his mouth.

Satoru and two other fellow college boys sit on the carpeted floor, facing his flatscreen hanging on the wall, playing some kind of mortal kombat style game with their sides to you. Bags of chips, drinks, video game cd cases, and controllers litter the floor around them.

Satoru is the only one looking at you while the other boys mash their controllers with focus on the game as their characters fight against one another.

Satoru pushes his glasses up instinctively as he says your name, even though they’re already pressing deeply against his face. “What are you doing here?”

Your name in Satoru’s mouth makes the boys turn their heads to look at you. Their jaws drop at the sight of a girl.

You give the- blunt as ever- Satoru a look and sigh. “I told you last Friday that I’d be coming over next Friday. It’s next Friday.”

“Oh yeah,” he scratches the back of his head. “Okay, come in then.”

You step inside before closing the door behind you.

“You gonna introduce me or what?” you ask as you drop your bag onto the floor and sit. They’re in a half circle; Satoru faces you while the other two are half turned towards you and half on the tv.

“Yeah— okay,” he says awkwardly. He gestures at the long, jet black haired one sporting a very uncoordinated, greasy bun on his head. “This is Suguru.”

Suguru peeks at you while continuing to expertly mash buttons on the controller. “Hi,” he says in a tone that seems naturally soft.

Satoru gestures at the blonde one with a long side part covering half of his face next. “That’s Kento.”

Kento looks at you and stops playing to raise his hand briefly in greetings.

You give them a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”

They both seem a bit geeky, exactly the type you expected Satoru to be friends with. They probably met playing an online game or something. There’s a very specific musky smell in this room.

“So,” Suguru begins teasingly as he concentrates on the game, “she your girlfriend, Gojo?”

Kento scoffs lowly at the idea.

“Nope,” Satoru says freely, throwing a chip into his mouth to rudely chew while he speaks, “she’s lived next door since we were like two and our moms are friends.”

“Have you guys kissed?” Suguru easily questions before taking a sip of his soda while his other hand continues to operate his controller.

“No way in hell,” Kento answers the question meant for Satoru in a matter of fact way, “Gojo kissing a girl like that is ridiculous.” Kento glances at you briefly.

Your brows raise and you huff to yourself. You almost expected them to be shy and quiet but they’re talking about you like you’re not right in front of them. You can tell they don’t have bad intentions, they’re just a bit socially unorthodox.

“Actually,” you butt in casually, reaching over to snatch a chip from the bag in front of Satoru, “we kissed when we were six.”

Suguru and Kento ‘oo’ simultaneously without taking focus from their game, slightly monotoned and unfazed.

“Hey, you’re a girl,” Suguru murmurs, “What's it like being able to see boobs any time you want? Does it ever get old?”

The chip making its way into Satoru’s mouth delays and falls to the floor as his eyes lock on you.

“You can’t just ask a girl about her boobs five seconds after meeting her.” Kento’s tone is judgmental but you can tell he’s just as curious if you’ll answer as the others are, just better at hiding it.

You take a deep breath. “It’s okay. Umm— the boring answer is I’m pretty used to them, they’re just part of my body. But, I won’t deny that half the time I pass a mirror in my house I lift my shirt and look at them. I think every girl does.”

“Really? You flash yourself?” Satoru questions, flabbergasted at this information. The other boys completely desert their controllers and tilt their bodies to face you with criss crossed legs and a matching ring of Cheeto-type dust around their mouths.

You shrug.

“What’s it like seeing a dick all the time?” you counter and pop a chip into your mouth.

“Gross, probably.” Suguru says, making you chuckle.

All of their eyes comically trail down to your chest at the same time— as if you can’t literally see them do it.

“You’re so lucky,” Satoru murmurs.

“Do you—” Kento clears his throat, “nevermind.”

Suguru’s mouth opens and closes, like he’s hesitating to say something.

You sigh. “Get it over with. Come on.”

Satoru blinks up at you, finally breaking his eye contact with your tits. “What?”

“Ask your questions, it’s fine. Hurry up.”

Their eyes light up like dominos.

“We can’t just—” Kento begins, as the voice of reason, but is cut off by Suguru who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Do your nipples get hard when you’re horny?” Suguru asks eagerly, not wasting a moment.

“They usually just react to cold temperatures, but sometimes when I get a tingle or something, they get hard, sure.”

Satoru’s mouth hangs open, mouth-breathing. Kento gulps and Suguru breathes out a ‘sick.’

“Does— um— does it feel good when they get sucked on?” Kento timidly asks, a pink tint to his cheeks. He keeps his head tilted down a bit, a shy habit, but he’s still staring at your chest with the eye that’s not covered by his bang.

You can’t help but slightly grin in amusement. “Depends on the girl and her sensitivity. But yeah, I’d say it does. It’s kind of comforting.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if they were to drool. There are obvious tents in each of their pants.

You’re playing the ‘bored, pretty girl casually answering horny, ridiculous questions like an angel’ part well but your abdomen tingles seeing Satoru use a long, veiny hand to pull at the uncomfortably tight fabric over his hard cock to adjust.

“Do you ever,” the skin between Satoru’s brows slightly pinch and his eyes flick up at you while his friends ogle your breasts, “play with them?”

“Jesus,” you snicker with amusement and tease, “you guys are so horny.”

“Yeah, do you pinch your nipples or flick them?” Suguru adds on to Satoru’s inquiry, as if he didn’t even hear your remark.

“Is it possible to suck on your own nipples?” Kento’s question follows Suguru’s quickly. Their eyes are practically swirling and you swear you can see their heads spinning.

It doesn’t end there. They don’t even wait for an answer between slurred questions. You’ve had to have already missed more than ten of them. You can’t help but tune it out eventually, lidded eyes blinking at the ceiling as they ask every diabolical thing you could think of back to back without leaving room for a reply.

You sigh.

In one fell swoop, you yank your shirt up to your collarbones, successfully shutting them up.

Their eyes turn into large, bulging hearts that boing like a spring and their tongues roll out onto the floor while steam comes from the top of their heads.

Things like, ‘holy shit,’ ‘oh fuck,’ and even, ‘holy bazingas,” bounce through the air as your bare tits glow within their perspective.

“No more questions,” you decide, making all of them nod eagerly. They’d probably agree to anything you say right now.

“Woah. They’re so— they’re so beautiful,” Satoru whines, glasses wildly crooked on his face as they all subconsciously start crawling towards you.

“I think I’m dying,” Kento breathes before slurping a bit of drool that threatened to escape his lips. “Is this heaven?”

“My mouth is so empty,” Suguru groans, licking and smacking his lips.

Thankfully, they stop crawling when they’re close enough to get a better look but not so close that you can feel their breath on your skin. It’s not hard to conclude that this is the first time they’re seeing tits in real life.

Your lips press together as you hold back a laugh, but when your eyes meet Satoru’s face, your expression falters. He looks wrecked, pinched brows, cheeks and ears a deep red, messy glasses, wet swollen lips, and glazed eyes— he looks sexy. You’re apparently finding out many interesting things about yourself, ever since you saw him in armadillo mode.

“Okay, shows over.” You lower your shirt, and their heads comically tilt lower and lower until the material is covering your entire torso once again and the sides of their faces are smooshed on the floor.

Just then, a knock at Satoru’s door comes, followed by his mother asking if you guys want more snacks.

She opens the door and the two boys hop up to their feet, scrambling.

“I— I gotta go home,” Kento says frantically before grabbing his bag and placing it over his crotch. “It was really nice to meet you. Thank you— um— for— yeah. Okay bye,” he stutters to you on his way out.

“Oh yeah, me too. My mom is expecting me for dinner.” Suguru nods quickly and scrambles to follow Kento out, pulling the hem of his baggy shirt down until it covers his boner. “Thanks— you’re cool— yeah thank you,” he says to you on his way.

Satoru’s mom looks a bit confused with a plate of apples in hand as she let them pass her to leave. “Okay, bye boys! Be safe driving home!” she shouts after them.

The front door slams behind them and she turns to you. “You want some apples, honey?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks, Mrs. Gojo,” you say politely and she smiles as she places the plate down on Satoru’s desk.

She brushes her hands together and rests them onto her hips as she stands in the doorway. “I have to say, it’s so nice to see you two together again. Just shout if you need me.”

“Okay, thanks.” Satoru has always been polite to his mother.

“Of course.” She smiles at her son before leaving, shutting the door behind herself.

You take a beat to look around his room as Satoru fixes his crooked glasses with a balled up blanket in his lap he must have grabbed when his friends were leaving. Action figures, comics, video games, the usual. It looks eerily similar to when you used to hangout with him everyday after school when you were younger.

You glance at him, you can’t see his eyes clearly from this angle due to a gleam on his lenses.

“Are you thinking about how badly you want me to go so you can put your dick in your mouth again?”

“Wow, that was fast,” he says bluntly and flicks something in the carpet absentmindedly, “I thought for sure it’d take a full sixty seconds before you made the first penis joke.”

“Was debating between that and a Where’s Waldo one. Sorry, I’ll be quicker next time.”

“Oh thank god,” he sarcastically says.

You obnoxiously lay back on his carpet, eyeing the ceiling as if there’s something interesting up there.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he sniffles loudly, telling the whole room that he has mucus. You sit up just as quickly as you laid down.

“Yeah, well,” you sigh deeply and lean back on your palms, “couldn’t abandon a friend in need, could I?”

He deadpans at you. “And.. why am I in need again?”

“Wahh— I’m horny and girls hate me,” you mock his deep, blunt tone as you bring your fists to your eyes to dramatically act like you’re crying, “I have to fuck my own face to cum because my hand sucks— wahh.”

Satoru is not amused. “So, you came here to flash my friends and bully me.”

“Woah woah, just giving you a little recap, Satoru, don’t get your Pokémon panties in a twist.” You point at him dramatically with a squint in your eye, “and hello? I flashed you too, you’re very welcome.”

He pushes up his glasses. “I see your point. I’ve come to the conclusion that I can agree that what you did was very generous. Carry on.”

“Oh, good.” Your sarcasm is laced with amusement. “Anyways, back to what I was saying.”

You lean over and pop another chip into your mouth.

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

For a second, all that can be heard is the muffled munch of the snack in your mouth and the background music from the abandoned video game.

“What?” Satoru enunciates each letter in the word drastically. “What— What did you just say?”

“Oh sorry, when two people love each other very much—”

“Shut up,” Satoru interrupts your obvious teasing by throwing one of his plushies at you.

You catch it with a laugh and hold it in your lap like you’d asked him for it in the first place.

“Are you being serious?” He questions you hesitantly, aware of how poorly he is at speaking with and understanding women.

“Mhm,” you affirm, casually with a nod.

His brows furrow and he almost looks around his own room for cameras like he must be getting punked right now.

Slowly he asks, “Why?”

You chew on your lower lip as you hum in thought, eyes trailing the ceiling, briefly.

You land on, “I want to help you.”

He looks at you with skeptical, squinted eyes.

You sigh.

“Look,” you regard him genuinely, “all jokes aside, when I saw you doing what you were doing, and then when you were telling me why you do it in the first place, I just felt like, I don’t know, I wanted to help you.”

“So, I’m a charity case?” He questions insinuatingly, making you sigh in slight frustration with yourself for not expressing your feelings correctly.

“No. It’s more like—” you chew on your lip as you gather your thoughts, “I wanna be useful to you. Remember when we were younger and my ice cream fell on the floor because that annoying kid kept pinching me and you gave me yours? And then when I asked you why, you said that you have to take care of the people you love?”

Satoru’s eyes bulge and his lips part. “You’re in love with me?”

You deadpan at him. “Really? Thats what you got from that?”

“You literally just said you love me and that’s why you want to let me have intercourse with you,” he passionately defends his conclusion, like he’s trying to show you logic.

“Oh my god you’re gonna make me say it,” you sigh to yourself, “Fine. Of course I love you Satoru, I’ve loved you since I was like five. I’m not confessing my love for you, okay? It’s like a childhood friend love, like—”

Satoru interrupts you quickly with a long pointed, accusing finger. “Don’t you dare say family after you just said you want me to put my penis in you.”

You rub your eyes briefly in frustration with your pointer finger and thumb. “My point is, I care about you and I don’t want you to suffer with a hard dick. I have your solution between my legs, so, here.”

“No,” Satoru immediately denies, “Intercourse is a two person activity where both parties have a desire for it. I don’t want you to just give me your vagina to use like a fricken fleshlight because you feel bad for me.” —No matter how much he might want to.

Your brows raise and your speak slowly. “You’re worried that I don’t want it?”

“Obviously?” He looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Satoru, there’s a reason I’m not just offering you a handjob,” you huff and shake your head, amused that he’s worried about you, “I want it.”

“You do?” He asks you like you’re crazy and not even aware of what you’re saying, loudly and enunciated dramatically.

“I do,” You confirm, definitively.

“Like, you’re attracted to me?”

You squint at his overall appearance for a beat and then crawl up to him until your nose is brushing his sweaty neck, making him jerk back hesitantly, but ultimately allowing you to get way too close.

“What are you—”

You take a big sniff of his skin and he shuts his mouth with an alarmed expression. You take a few more inhales of different patches of skin on his neck and then sit back down, criss crossing your legs in front of him with your knees overlapping his shins like last Friday.

“Yeah,” you nod absolutely, as if you’re speaking to yourself, eagerly, “I definitely want you inside of me.” What you aren’t saying is that his musky smell, the one you usually avoid getting a whiff of, is now triggering a primal response within your reproductive system.

“Holy shit,” he breathes under his breath, chills racing down his spine. “You want me inside of you.”

“Are you attracted to me, Satoru?” You repeat his question back at him, a little smile and tilt to your head.

“Um,” he picks up your hand, “do you want to feel it?”

He tosses the blanket in his lap to the side, exposing his hard on.

“Your dick?”

“My attraction for you,” he corrects.

You nod.

He lays your palm flat on his warm, beating chest, making your brows raise in surprise.

His heart is thumping at a steady pace, a little fast, but it’s to be expected with you so close to him.

“This is,” you blink, “your heart.”

He nods. His heart picks up pace and you can feel the rise and fall of his breath.

“The blood that it’s circulating,” he uses a large hand to guide yours on a slow journey down his hard chest, “is reacting to the ventral tegmental area of my brain.”

Your eyes are locked onto his hand on top of yours, silently gasping when it reaches his tent. You don’t miss the deep ridges of yummy abs on the way down either.

“And it sends that blood,” he lets out a barely noticeable grunt, ‘guh,’ under his breath when your hand caresses his bulge, “here.”

My attraction for you starts within my heart.

You can’t help but let out a sharp breath, an airy, amused scoff, despite the little tingle in your own heart. “Oh, wow, you’re good. I underestimated you, you little geek.”

He doesn’t answer you, just gives you proud twitch at the corner of his lips. He’s breathing heavy, hazy eyes already lidded in pleasure, simply due to your warm hand on his clothed cock.

“You’re so hard,” you breathe as you gently squeeze around the stiff base, making him grip the carpet beside him, “You already thinking about how it’ll feel to be inside me?”

He groans, tossing his head back. “Of course I am. Can we do it now?” He looks at you with impatience and then down at your lap, “Are you lubricated?”

You grin at him, “Am I lubricated?”

“Yeah, it’s a word in the dictionary, stupid.” His grumble is a little too breathy to be cruel. The insult makes you nostalgic, it was practically your assigned nickname when you were kids.

“Maybe you should try Urban Dictionary,” you tease, hand still resting casually on his bulge like its normal, “because wet is what us regular earthlings use.”

“Okay,” he speaks bluntly, “Are you wet?”

You shrug. “I might be.”

He squints at you. “What do you mean might? You have to be properly prepared before we can do this.”

“You know what? Yeah, you’re right. And now that you mention it,” you say like a performance, “I know exactly what will ‘properly prepare’ me.”

“Okay,” he says expectantly and slightly suspicious, “What?”

Satoru almost throws a fit when you take your hand away from his cock and lean back on your hands.

“I want you to self suck again and I want to watch.”

You must have learned that phrase online in the time you’ve been apart since last Friday, but that’s not why his face scrunches up in judgmental confusion.

“What? No fucking way,�� he immediately denies passionately, “Are you serious?”

“I barely got to see it before,” you whine, leaning towards him with your hands up in prayer and an exaggerated pout on your face, “Please?”

“That’s what’s gonna make you wet?” He’s in disbelief.

You shrug, dropping your hands. “Something about it is hot. Don’t judge, self sucker.”

Is this what girls are into?

“You think putting my own penis in my mouth is hot?” he asks you judgmentally, overly enunciating as to get his point across, “Why??”

You sigh, glancing up at the ceiling in thought.

“I don’t know. Something about the desperation you have to feel to do something like that,” you bite your lip and flick your gaze down at his bulging tent, “Like you’d do anything to feel the pleasure of a blowjob.”

Oh. Okay, no. It’s just you that’s this weird.

“I don’t even know what to say right n—” he cuts his own astonished remark off, “You’re a freak, you know that? Like you’re weird.”

You huff and shove his shoulder. “You’re the dick sucker.”

“Getting off on watching it is worse,” he shakes his head at you, but he’s unable to hold back a flicker of a smile.

“Oh c’mon,” you tilt your head at him, “seeing you feel good makes me horny, doesn’t that do anything to you?”

He knows you know the answer to that, if his cock jumping at your words says anything.

“Then why can’t it be in your mouth and not mine?” He grumbles, trying to avoid your powerful stare— the one where you make your eyes all big and gleamy; you’ve been manipulating him with that look since you were young.

You light up seeing his resistance breaking down by the second, your words coming out quicker now.

“You don’t have to do it for a long time, I just wanna see you actually lick the tip,” you gush, as if begging at a fast pace will make him more likely to agree.

He rubs his nose against his sleeve and glances at the closed door with a sigh. “Okay.”

“Yes,” you say to yourself in victory as you thrust your elbow downward with your hand in a fist. Satoru deadpans.

You stare at him expectantly with a smiling bite to your lower lip.

Satoru sniffs and nudges your knee that’s on top of his leg. “You have to back up a little.”

“Oh,” you chirp, scooting back a tad so that your knees aren’t touching.

Satoru’s awkwardly maneuvers his lanky body to lie on his back, and you’re facing his side. You stop him.

“Wait, you have to actually walk me through how you’re doing this.”

He turns his head to blink at you. “You’re such a freak. How do I know you’re not just messing with me and I’m doing this for nothing? I’m not—”

You sigh, sharply, and with determination, you lean down and shove your face onto his.

Your lips connect abruptly, and Satoru gasps as his hands twitch, mid air. A peck. Your lips stick together as they part, making a ‘chu’ sound before you begin to lay multiple dense pecks onto his. He’s fighting to return the kisses with panicked hums, not understanding why you’re doing it but too enthralled to care.

You finish it off with one long, pressurized kiss, even shaking your head back and forth a few times to really imprint the feeling onto his nerves before pulling away just enough.

“You kissed me,” Satoru breathes, clearly trying to process what just happened. He doesn’t get far though, because you start laying wet, open mouthed kisses onto his jaw and down to his neck where you start suckling on it. Satoru’s making all kinds of hisses and gasps. His desperate hips jerk into the air instinctively in one harsh movement.

You slide your lips off after one final self indulgent lick to his protruding Adam’s apple and he’s exhaling audibly in euphoria.

“It’s not for nothing. Please show me how you do it,” you beg him in a soft tone, brows pinched. You nudge your nose into his like a cat yearning to bond, and he just melts.

He nods and lets out a shaky ‘okay’ as you lean back to watch with an excited smile.

He gently takes his glasses off and folds them, eyes blinking and squinting to adjust briefly.

“Why are you taking your glasses off?”

He glances at you as he places them aside. “I don’t want to get them dirty,” he explains and clears his throat.

You lick your lips and nod, enjoying the topic of conversation too much.

“It’s kinda hard to,” he grunts as he kicks off of the ground with one leg to push both over his head, “do this part.”

You’re sort of astonished at how he’s able to put such a long body into this position.

“Uh— I’m gonna take my penis out now,” he glances at you awkwardly but you just nod encouragingly.

He pulls his sweatpants down enough to let his cock hang out and keep his balls and ass within the confines of the material. He places his focus on the act itself so he doesn’t psyche himself out of this ridiculous situation. His true eyes are on the prize, he’d do anything to fuck your pussy.

Seeing his cock this close up is a whole nother experience compared to the panic of barging into his room and happening upon it. It’s a light pink color, and it’s quite lengthy as it bobs over his face. It gets thicker towards the middle and up to the tip, sort of flared— as if it’s begging to be encased inside something. It feels as though it’s already anticipating his warm mouth.

“Just— just a lick, right?” He asks you, face a deeper pink than his dick is.

You hum an eager confirmation and he sighs to himself in slight preparation.

He uses two hands to nudge at his back and his tip slowly reaches down to brush his lips.

He drops his jaw and hesitates to let his tongue out. But ultimately, he slowly slides it out and you can see the muscles in his tongue twitch as he gives the top side of his tip a nice, wet lap— incidentally collecting a small dribble of pre.

“Did that feel good?” You quickly question, biting your lower lip with observant eyes.

He swallows. “A little. Can I stop now?”

“Does sucking feel better?” You ask instead, and he releases the pressure he’s pushing into his back just a bit so he can answer you more comfortably.

“I guess, but not really, I can tell it’s my own mouth.”

“I have an idea,” you scooch in closer, “try sucking.”

Despite this being kind of lame compared to the idea of you stimulating him instead or the promise of sex, it’s clearly entertaining you so he pushes into his straining spine again until his desperate tip greets his mouth again. Satoru has stuck his dick inside of crazier things in weirder situations just to get off, this is nothing.

He opens his mouth wide enough to allow his cock inside and sucks his lips closed around half of the tip. His white lashes softly flutter shut at the dull tingle growing through his dick.

His eyes shoot right back open when he feels a long, warm, wet sensation run across his mid shaft. You start licking at his reactive cock like an eager kitten, making that dull tingle erupt into much more as bitter pre oozes into his mouth in reaction. His wide eyes roll in pleasure once he realizes you aren’t stopping and he uses his tongue to suck a little better at his cock head, unable to resist the need for more stimulation.

When your tongue starts wetly tracing the edge of his tip where it enters his mouth, even licking at his lips a little, he can feel his balls tighten up. He thinks he can handle it, hold back his orgasm, but then you latch onto the side of his upper dick and suckle.

He doesn’t want to cum in his own mouth so he eases the tension his hands are putting on his back to let the tip slide out but not enough to pull his legs back and lay flat because he doesn’t want to lose the pleasure your mouth is giving him. “Wait— hng!— I’m gonna cum!”

You hum happily and, faster than he can blink, your warm mouth is enveloping his entire throbbing tip. His abs clench and his eyebrows shoot up with tension, moaning loudly with parted lips as you slide your tongue all around his sensitive skin. He’s never felt anything like this, it’s not even comparable.

You’re coaxing his cum to build and build, and Satoru swears with a burst of excitement within his chest that he’s finally going to ejaculate inside of a woman’s mouth. That is, until you suddenly let his cock go with a pop and the next thing he knows, cum is shooting all over his face. His cock spasms and pleasure bursts all the way into his toes, he’s overwhelmed by it for a long blissful moment.

Pure bliss until he comes down enough to realize that warm splooge is streaking down his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. He slowly maneuvers himself to lay flat and blinks at the ceiling for a beat. He’s about to sit up and do the whole irritated-at-you thing, but then your thighs are suddenly on either side of his hips with only your shirt and panties on, sweatpants no where to be found, only soft bare legs. He gasps.

“That was so fucking hot,” you groan as you quickly shove your panties to the side and ease down enough to rest your warm, wet labia against the bottom of his soft, twitching dick.

He hisses in sensitivity, hands shooting to grip your thighs to cope as he tilt his head up to look at you. You’re a little blurry without his glasses but he can still see how flustered you look.

“Think you can get hard again?” You ask, out of breath as you begin to slowly grind your pussy against him with eager hands on his chest.

He groans in overstimulation, “Oh god— wha—? I don’t know— oh fuuuck.” His fingers tighten around the flesh of your flexing thighs.

“I have cum all over my face,” he groans, refusing to make you get off of him because he’d rather die, but still complaining about it.

“It’s okay,” you say quickly and lean down and begin to lick the cum off of his face casually, making him slightly grimace.

“Just grab a shirt,” he basically slurs when your licking abruptly stops and you pull back enough to look him in the face.

Your hands are on either side of his head now, hips unfortunately stopping all movement, and you’re suddenly blinking at him like you’re realizing something.

“Oh my god,” you slowly express, a disbelieving smile on your lips, “you came all over that fucking donut! I knew you were acting weird, you sick freak.”

His eyes widen and he doesn’t even know what to say, you clearly recognize the taste enough to place it, so he just blurts, “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” You still question him with furrowed brows, not buying his feigned ignorance, “Your mom was right there!”

“I don’t— but, you said it tasted good! And you only took one bite.”

You huff and shake your head. And then you lean down to lick a long lap up his cheek, gathering a bit of very bitter cum on your taste buds. You swallow it and press your lips to his ear, “You’re lucky I’m throbbing because otherwise, there’s no way I’d fuck you knowing that, you pervert.”

Whether that’s a lie or not, doesn’t matter, all Satoru can hear is the subtle squelch of your pussy lips rubbing against his hardening cock as you begin to grind again.

His toes curl and twitch. He breathes, “You made me cum— agh!— on my face, we’re— we’re even.”

You huff and sit back up while your hips work. “Fine. We’re even.”

He brings a shaky hand over to his discarded glasses and throws them back on before yanking the hem of your shirt up enough to see your pussy.

“Ohhh my goodness gracious,” his voice shakes but he’s very sturdy in his words, astounded by the sight of pretty pussy in real life— especially those folds against his own penis, the folds connected to his beautiful childhood friend.

He can’t help but eagerly buck his hips once, making you gasp at the direct hit to your clit and grip onto his shirt over his chest.

“You’ve never had sex before, right? You’re a virgin?” You breathe out, humping increasing in speed.

His mouth hangs open. “Never. Mhm, yeah, virgin.” He nods quickly.

You lean in and your lips brush his as you speak. “I’m gonna be your first, baby?” you egg him on.

He whines into your mouth. “I always— I always suspected you would.”

“What?” You breathe in amusement, pressing a kiss to his jawline, “Why?”

“Because,” he moans beautifully as you suck on his earlobe, “You’re the only girl that talks to me.”

You lean back and jut your bottom lip out into a dramatic pout. “Aww, so it’s not because you’ve been in love with me since we were kids? You’re breaking my heart.”

“No,” he hisses when his tip almost gets caught on your entrance that seems to be attempting to suck him in every time it passes by, “I’ve definitely been in love with you since we were kids.”

Your hips stutter to a painful stop and you blink at him, playful expression slightly faltering. You can barely tell when Satoru is joking, the ease and blunt manner of the way he speaks doesn’t help.

“Wait, are you being serious?”

He sits up to lean back on his elbows and nods. “I thought you knew that.”

“How could I know that?” you ask him like he’s an idiot, “The most you say to me in a week is that I have something in my teeth.”

He sniffles his runny nose obnoxiously, like always. “Because you do. And, you don’t talk to me either,” he says factually and defends himself.

“That’s—,” you exhale sharply, reaching down to grip his base, ignoring his little ‘guh!’ as you raise your hips a bit, “because we got older and— I don’t know— grew apart.”

You rub his head against your opening and his eyes lock onto the movement like it’s glowing gold. Drool dribbles out of the corner of his lips. “Holy shit. It’s finally— ngh!— happening. You’re finally going to have sex— oh my god— it’s so soft. It’s so slimy, woah.” He’s talking to himself like a little weirdo, but you don’t mind, it’s actually creating more slick to join the rest.

You bite your lip and slowly push down against his head until it pops in with a painful little stretch.

You hiss out a strained, “Fuck,” and Satoru pushes through his overwhelming desire to just moan and whine and succumb to his own pleasure like a limp fish to ask you, “Are you okay? Does— hahh— does it hurt?”

You nod with a shaky exhale, eyes closed in concentration. “A little, your tip is— mm— almost as big as your head is.”

You’re clearly not in enough pain to ignore an opportunity to tease him, it seems. You take a deep breath and attempt to calm your muscles.

But then, your head snaps down to make sense of the sudden stimulation against your clit to see Satoru’s long lanky fingers rubbing it sloppily. “Oh— mm!” Your abdomen and thighs clench as you grip his shirt harshly, breathing choppy.

“Does that help? Your clitoris should ease the pain,” Satoru bluntly expresses with clear concern, focus flicking from your clit to your expression, “I read it.”

You whine and grab onto his wrist connected to the lanky fingers moving in a ‘dj’ motion against your ultra sensitive skin. “Try— hah— little circles.”

He immediately complies with upmost focus, fingertips and knuckles rotating. “Like that?”

You moan and your cunt answers his question for you, squeezing his tip nicely. Before he knows it, you’re dropping all the way down till he feels your plushy cervix kissing his slit. It feels like you just punched him in the gut with how abrupt the feeling of being enveloped whole is.

“Oh god, holy shit! You’re so wet and tight and,” he’s wailing like an animal in the jaws of a predator and he’s physically unable to stop himself from gripping the carpet harshly to ground himself, “it’s bumpy inside, the perfect— perfect balance between—ngh— stimulation and plushy, soft, gooey— ahh it’s like clouds.”

“Yeah? Keep going Toru.” You’re clearly trying to mock his ramble but your tone is anything but a tease as you sit still, cockwarming him with reactive walls.

He’s lucky that he busted recently because he wouldn’t have been able to last this long otherwise, movement or not. But you’re fighting your own battle too. You’re so full, there’s a pang of radiating pain pinching your cervix that refuses to stretch to make room for Satoru’s lengthy cock and you’re trying your hardest to hold on until your body adjusts the way it’s meant to.

“Fuck!” You blurt after a long moment of trying to push down the feeling overwhelm, “I don’t think I can do it. It’s— It’s too much. It hurts.” You’re speaking in a completely genuine way for once, not even a small teasing comment about why his dick has to be so long; he can tell you’re actually scared.

Satoru immediately sits up and grabs onto your waist, eyes flicking over your expression quickly. “It hurts?” he repeats softly, clearly concerned and attempting to console you, “Okay, breathe. You’re okay, I’m here, I’m with you, I’ve got you. Your body can stretch, it’s made to stretch for this.”

You take a deep breath and nod as he speaks, brows pinched as you attempt to hold your focus on his coos and not the invading, pulsing flesh within you.

“I can feel you twitching,” you whine, head thrown back briefly, “stop it.”

“I can’t control it,” Satoru defends, using his thumbs to gently rub circles into your waist, over your shirt.

“It’s your dick,” you whimper, dropping to rest your forehead onto his shoulder, “Tell it to stop hurting me.”

He hums, entertaining your words and the next thing you know, a lanky hand is snaking under your shirt to lay flat and warm on your lower tummy.

“Stop hurting her,” Satoru scolds his mounted penis, “Or I swear I’m gonna take you out of this amazing, warm little pussy and you’ll go right back into your boxers. You hear me?”

Your pussy involuntarily convulses around him, hearing him indulge your little sillies in such an oddly sexy way. You both breathe out a groan at the delicious feeling.

You lift your head, breathing heavily with lidded, hazy eyes. “That helped,” you mumble as you shove your lips onto his eagerly, nudging his head back slightly at the force and making him hum.

He locks his lightly dry lips onto your soft ones as immediate as possible, not allowing the risk of missing out on your sweet pecks like before when he could barely keep up.

But this isn’t a peck, you’re tilting your head, side to side as your lips smooch, keeping them interlocked between ‘chu’s.’

Your eyes peek open because, your intuition was right, his intensely blue irises are staring at you through his lenses. You unlatch as you push his shoulder, lightly, not keen on accidentally making his hips jolt. “Why are your eyes open? Close them while we kiss,” you scold, feeling a light heat rise within your cheeks.

He licks his lips to taste you instinctively. “What’s wrong with that? I want to look at you, you’re pretty.”

You roll your eyes half heartedly and slide your hands onto his shoulders to hold. “Open your mouth.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond because you’re shoving your wet tongue into his mouth, making him moan directly into yours. His hands tremble around your waist as they tighten their grip, using all of his will power to not listen to instinct and rut up into you.

“Wait wait—” he says between licks and you know he’s scared to accidentally hurt you.

You shake your head and hum a denial. “It’s okay, you won’t,” you breathe before latching back on.

He tastes like lingering traces of sugary soda and a hint of tic-tacs, but mostly like natural saliva. His tongue is sloppy and a bit odd in how it meets yours, but it’s his and you can’t help but desire for more of it as it lathers and lathes yours.

“Okay,” you pull back impatiently, “Let’s fuck.”

“Fuck— fuck,” Satoru grunts frantically, face clenching, “don’t say that, I’m gonna ejaculate too quick.”

“No, you won’t,” you soothe him, almost like you’re speaking it into existence, ignoring the instinct to make fun of his word choice.

He whines, but then gathers his determination and nods. “Okay, okay— mhm— should I move?”

You shake your head. “No, me first.”

You softly raise your hips, using your knees on either side of his body for grounding, until half of him is glistening and exposed. His mouth hangs open and his eyes have glazed over where they lock onto your connection.

You take a deep breath and drop all of your weight down until he’s sliding right back into his little nook within you. “Nngh..!” he moans on impact, brows pinching aggressively into a defensive pout. “Was that okay? Are you okay? Did it hurt? Because I think you stretched a little more—”

You cut him off by rubbing your nose into his with closed eyes, humming in affection as you squeeze his shoulders lightly. “I’m okay,” you dismiss, resting your forehead on his, “How does it feel? Good?”

“You,” he pauses to shakily breathe out deeply and slowly as his hands start massaging your waist in primal instinct, “You feel like heaven. I love you.”

You huff and lean away with an amused look. “Tell me when you’re about to cum,” you warn him suddenly, and you don’t leave any room for him to answer because your hips begin to ride. His thick head is immediately slamming against all of the sensitive parts inside you, nudging your g-spot deliberately with each embrace.

“Oh shiiiit,” his voice undulates with the pace of your thrusts, and his glasses are already lying crooked on his face due to the recoil his body is taking. “Oh my god— nngh! oh!”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with pinched brows, “Does my pussy feel better than— mmh!— your mouth, Satoru?”

His eyes are threatening to roll continuously, but he’s trying so hard to keep them straight and on your blissed out face. “Your pussy is— oh fuck— so much better. I want to live inside of you— please keep going.”

“I’m not stopping, I’m not stopping.” You’re cooing at him, sloppily, and as if you’re desperate for more, you transition to start bouncing. The impact of the change in positioning and the force of gravity aiding in your movement makes Satoru absolutely keen. His toes curl and his abdomen clenches painfully. The squelch of your connection is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard and felt.

“Oh no, oh no,” Satoru grits pleadingly and his surprisingly strong hold on your waist subconsciously tightens to the point that it’s tough to continue to bounce through it at the velocity you are. “I’m gonna cum— I’m gonna cum— I can’t hold it.”

“Are you sure? Right now?” You question him through moans with hope that he’ll be able to hold it.

“I’m sure! Fuck! Don’t get off, just stop moving.” He’s biting his lower lip so hard that he could very well bite it clean off.

You stop at the next bounce, whining like you’ve been stabbed once you settle. His cock whimpers within you too, like it’s threatening to bust at any moment, begging to make this amazing place inside you it’s new home, decorated with little Toru’s DNA and a welcome mat. His dick doesn’t have to know English for Satoru to know that it won’t be accepting anything less than your pussy from now on; he can say goodbye to the makeshift pocket pussy made out of a Pringles can, gloves, and tissues already dusting in his cabinet.

“What’s wrong? Are you gonna cum?” you question, you were already preparing to hop off and jerk him onto your face or into your mouth.

He gulps between deep breaths, trying to catch it and calm down. He massages your hips and waist and ribs, up and down, affectionately. “I don’t wanna cum until you do,” he explains with a gleam of a heart within his eyes. “How do I do that?”

You smile and exhale deeply at his question. “I don’t think I can cum unless you do something to my clit.”

It’s obvious to the both of you that he won’t be able to maintain that if you start bouncing again.

“Oh!” You grab onto him reactively when he suddenly flips you over onto your back with his large hand protecting the back of your skull and the other wrapped around your back.

You let out a gasping moan at the new angle the second your back hits the carpet when his cock wetly sinks all the way back into you. Gravity. “Oh,” you whimper at how deep he is, socked feet and thighs twitching mid air beside his ribs.

His breath fans your face, hands on either side of your head. He’s holding himself together, brows drawn in. “I’m gonna make you orgasm,” he pledges to you like a knight on his knees, eyes digging their way into yours.

“You are?” Your response shakes out airily as he falls down to rest on his forearms beside your head, face inches from yours and white hair leaning down with gravity. His boxers are showing over the expanse of his covered ass and his sweatpants are halfway down as he lies in between your bloomed legs.

He nods with determination as he shoves his glasses up, but they fall back to the lower part of his bridge just as fast. “Can I start humping?” His intention within that geeky phrasing is so pure that your heart can’t help but flutter into little butterflies.

You lift your head at a snails pace, eyes refusing to stray from his pink lips until you connect in a soft, caress of a kiss. “Go ahead,” you smile into his mouth.

Yearning for the life between your thighs, forced to pull the distance just to regain closeness again, his hips gradually pull back until he’s almost completely gone, and then he’s thrusting back inside, experimentally.

Your lips part with the drive of it in perfect synchronicity, sharing the experience of deriving pleasure from one another with a shiver.

He repeats it, this time brisker, and his eyes roll. “Oh that’s so good,” he expresses, and getting lost in the sauce, his isolated thrusts turn into a sloppy, inexperienced pace of its own, your legs brunting the force with every collision. You’re sucking him in with every draw back and milking him when he’s fully seated.

His soggy cock sadly slips out when his focus flickers and his desperate hips lose direction; pleasure like this is blinding for an eager virgin. He takes the opportunity to breathe and recenter, slouching down to press his forehead to your collarbones as his bobbing cock jumps and pulses in yearning over your sloppy pussy.

You rub the back of his head soothingly while the other kneads his alarmingly muscular back.

He exhales against your skin. “‘M still gonna make you cum,” he mumbles and you hum with a warm smile, eyeing the ceiling as you soothe him. “Just need a second.”

“Take a second,” you hum and lazily rub the inside of your calf against his side. “But I’m so empty,” you whisper against the top of his head like you’re casting a sultry spell, “and so ‘lubricated.’ It would be such a shame if your cock didn’t fill that space inside of my gooey—”

“Jesus fuuck,” he moans and shivers, whining at your words that seem to be just fucking right. He picks his head up to level with yours again, “Okay, okay. I’m good. I’m ready.”

He reaches down without looking, grasping his shaft to lead it back into you. He pokes your lower hole and you squeak, “Wrong hole! Higher— higher, Satoru.”

“Oh,” he breathes a huff into your face, a geeky smile on his lips.

He pokes your clit. “Too high. You need some help, Satoru?” You’re teasing him, but you’d still gladly do it for him if he needed you to.

He shakes his head and you nudge his glasses up for him before they potentially fall all the way off. “I got it, I got it.” He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his lips in concentration as he takes his hand off of his cock to search for your pussy, blindly.

Your abdomen clenches inward in a jolting fashion when he lays his long fingers over the entirety of your pussy. “Just need to see where..” he trails off with focus, eyes locked on nothing in particular over your head.

His bony fingers start pawing, groping, and spreading your folds, probing them like he’s trying to memorize the anatomy. Your hips and abdomen muscles are jerking with his rough touch, letting out a few whines as you writhe. “What are you doing?”

“There it is,” he breathes, ignoring your gasp as his fingers poke at the clenching entrance to your insides, “See, baby? Got it.”

He hurriedly shoves his dick into you to the hilt, while he still remembers where it’s at, with a deep, loud, throaty exhale of relief you’d only hear from a forty year old man. Your hands snap to grip his back, nails pushing into the cloth as your spine arches into him. “Satoru— nngh!” you groan in shock at the sudden impaling of your guts.

“Yeahh,” he sighs, nudging your face to the side with his to nose at your neck, “My name, keep saying that.”

Your jaw drops as he brutally begins to thrust deeper than before, like he’s stabbing you with every hit, he sucks and licks at the side of your neck unsteadily. He reaches between your bodies and finds your beating clit while you squeak on every thrust like you’re a sharp-teethed dog’s stuffed squeaky toy.

You can literally feel the tendons in his forearm undulate against your tummy as he swipes electricity through your clit and into your legs, down to your curling toes. Now that he’s destroying you, it’s clear that previously, inexperienced Satoru was striving to grasp an understanding of holding a steady pace before he could attempt at multitasking his focus onto your clit as well.

He pulls back from your neck to search your expression with upmost curiosity. He can see the clear change in your every expression at the new advancement. “Ohh, oh— that feels good, huh?” He’s almost taunting you and cooing at you simultaneously.

You nod eagerly as your arms scramble to wrap under his arms to hold onto his sweaty shoulder blades from behind for balance; since he’s so tall, you have to reach a bit. The gymnastics your mind would have to go through to tease him back is shut off and being bypassed completely as he manipulates an orgasm to appear within the distance.

“Little magic button,” Satoru huffs as drool seeps out of the corner of your parted lips, moaning like you’re being hurt.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, nodding again like it’s your job, “don’t change pace. Don’t stop— please.” He hisses when your nails start clawing down his back muscles, but he couldn’t care less about pain right now, there’s a wicked, domintating look of euphoria on his face.

“Cum, please, cum— I need you to cum. I’m not stopping,” he confirms into your ear before slobbering all over it. He’s been holding back the need to burst within you for too long already but he’d sooner pull out and continue to rub at you in hope of maintaining the build of your peak and then diving back in when his high dissipates than cum before you.

“Oh my god, it’s happening!” You cum with a shuddering, pathetic whine that turns into a silent cry, overwhelmed by the burst of white love and the piercing of his teeth into your soft neck.

He’s in bliss knowing he’s finally pushing you over the edge, but the feeling of your cunt squeezing in convulsions he’s only read online about happening when a woman experiences an orgasm and her body instinctively goes through the primal motions of milking the penis within of all the sperm it can offer, he falls over the edge. He wouldn’t have been able to cut off his high even if he yanked himself out this very second.

His hips slam one last jack hammer as deep into your cunt as as he can penetrate before he holds still in your guts, making you, ‘guh!’ like you’ve been stabbed.

“Thank you! I’m sorry— fuuck! Thank you!”

He can’t help but abandon your clit as he falls of the cliff, though you don’t even need it anymore. That first spurt of cum travels through his convulsing cock and shoots into your cervix, bullseye. His leg muscles shake as he repeats those slurs of gratitude and apologies into the skin of your cheek with slobbery, drooling lips.

You can feel the violent pulses of his cock, indicating he’s spurting cum into your tummy, but all you can do is hold onto him in a deep embrace as you catch your breath, coming to the conclusion of your orgasm.

You’re spent. He groans as his lips smear down your cheek, over your jaw and then down to tuck his face into your neck, leaving a trail of drool in their wake. Suddenly, his extremely tense body turns to heavy deadweight and drops fully on top of you. He’s now a starfish, arms and legs flailed out while his softening cock is still snug inside your continually massaging, convulsing walls. He’s sweating and you can smell his specific musk more potently, though most of you is instinctively comforted and weirdly domestically affected by it.

“Satoru,” you whine and writhe underneath him, air knocked out of you due to the 300 pound fish on top of you, “you’re heavy.”

Satoru blurts a tired noise, making you groan and squeeze your legs together around his hips.

He noses at your neck and starts kitten licking it, making your insides squeeze and twist around his sensitive cock. His ass clenches. “Oh! Oh! Tight!” he hisses as if he’s touched a hot surface but refuses to pull out.

“It’s your— ngh— fault,” you mewl, hitting his back weakly. “Don’t lick me like that!”

He lethargically pulls his face out of your neck to smirk at you. “I made you cum so hard.” Proud. Cocky. Borderline sexy— and then he ruins it by sniffling with obvious mucus.

You squint at him accusingly. “And you came inside me.”

He huffs nervously and shoves his glasses up. “Yeah.. I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “You know I can’t take plan b, right?”

He blinks at you and his face pales a bit. “W-What? Why? I can buy it— ”

“Because it’s really bad for your body,” you flick his forehead, “I told you to tell me when you were going to cum for a reason, stupid.”

“Fuck.” He drops his forehead down onto the carpet beside yours. His, already half hard, cock twitches against your walls.

A long pause. You’re almost suspecting that he’s turned on by the idea of impregnating you.

He lifts his head, brows pinched. “We’re having a baby?”

“No, Satoru.” You sigh and rub the top of his head comfortingly, “I’m not ovulating so hopefully it just.. doesn’t stick.”

He immediately shakes his head as if that just won’t do. “No, it’s gonna stick. Gojo sperm always makes it home on the first try.”

You blink and your face screws up as you attempt to process his words. “What are you talking about? How could you possibly know that?”

“My dad told me when I hit puberty,” he adjusts his body so he can lean on his forearms and you both emit a soft sound at the incidental movement down below, “Grandpa told him the same thing. He was a first try baby, my dad was too, and so was I. All boys too.”

He grabs onto the sides of your head in a caress, then sniffles causally and smiles down at you like he didn’t just drop a bomb on you— more accurately, inside of you.

“Satoru,” you say his name like it should trigger some kind of common sense in this scenario, “We are not having a child while we’re still in college and live with our parents.”

“Your intentions don’t change the very real science of my sperm traveling within your uterus, right now.. You know that, right?”

You grab onto his biceps and glare at him while his dick is still plugging your cunt that’s filled to the brim with Gojo sperm. “I’m not joking. I am not getting pregnant Satoru— I mean fuck! We just had sex for the very first time ever.”

He leans down and smooshes his arrogant lips to yours, ignoring your fists hitting his arms stubbornly. His tone lowers to a whisper as he speaks against your lips.

“Does that mean we’re gonna have sex again?”

“Oh my god, I need to get out of here,” you start squirming and shoving at his chest futilely, “I can’t believe I let you put your dick in me.”

“Okay, okay. Look, it’s useless to worry about hypotheticals,” Satoru calms you logically and gives you a serious look. “Okay? We’re okay. You’re okay.”

You exhale and nod, minutely, hands stilling against his chest.

He leans in close your lips, breath mingling. “Your insides feel so fucking good. I wanna stay in here forever.” He slides his tongue against the seam of your lips before kissing them like it’s natural.

“Yeah?” you hum into it with hands sliding down to his chest and bumpy abs and then up again. Satoru is weirdly muscular and eerily strong, a sleeper build if you will. You hadn’t realized due to the continuous long sleeves and pants covering him— he also usually wears the same clothes everyday since he barely does laundry unless his mother does it.

You squeak when you feel his cock begin to stretch your insides out as it hardens. “You’re already hard again??”

“I told you,” he muffles into your mouth, refusing to part ways enough to speak coherently, “Gojo anatomy is just different.”

He leans down and starts licking your neck like an affectionate cat, again. “I’m never gonna be able to look your dad in the eyes again.” You cringe at the idea of Satoru’s father being a good cum shot.

“Hey,” he nips at your neck with sharp teeth, making you hiss, “you’re not allowed to think about anyone’s penis but mine right now.”

“Why do you say it like that?” You giggle as his nibbles tickle your skin and you mock his tone dramatically, making it extra nasally, “Penis.”

“That is it’s proper title.” He pulls away to eye you with judgement, like you’re the stupid one.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say cock once.” You snicker at him, grinning in amusement as you eye his expression. “Say it.”

“Cock.”

You blink.

You giggle.

You mock him, quietly. “Cock.”

“Oh yeah? Okay, how about this,” he hums and his voice drops into a warm, sultry embrace, “I’m gonna fuck my cock into your fucking heavenly cunt. What’s one more load, hmm?”

The tingles that spark in your abdomen suddenly erupt into an explosion and you let out a shuddering gasp when Satoru suddenly starts grinding thoroughly into you again with a fully erect ‘cock.’

Maybe walking in on your childhood friend sucking his own dick was meant to be <3

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

#I love when characters match each others freak

3K notes · View notes