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pin-k-ink · 4 months

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heat // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ mutual pining, strong sexual tension, making out, fingering, nipple play, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, teasing, squirting, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 6.7k

a/n: not proofread

The arrivals terminal buzzed with a cacophony of greetings and farewells as travelers rushed about - wheeled suitcases clacking against the polished floors. You scanned the teeming crowds, pulse flickering with both excitement and trepidation.

After all these years, you were finally back in Tokyo. The city where you had grown up living across the street from Kenma - the two of you inseparable friends until high school graduation scattered you along diverging paths.

Though you tried keeping in touch through the occasional text and social media, the miles between you seemed to widen into an ever-growing chasm. Which made it all the more surprising when Kenma himself had reached out weeks ago extending an open invitation to stay over at his place during your upcoming visit.

"I have a pretty spacious setup now with my gaming and streaming work," he had typed nonchalantly. "You can crash at mine instead of some soulless hotel room."

Coming from anyone else, the offer could've been easily misconstrued as flirtatious or inappropriate. But this was Kenma - your childhood friend who hardly spoke more than was absolutely necessary, much less indulged in coy overtures. With him, you knew the pragmatic suggestion was precisely as straightforward as he had phrased it.

Still...spending who knew how many nights in close quarters threatened to stir up residual longings you thought had been neatly extricated years ago. You had seen the photographs and gaming celebrity articles documenting how Kenma seemed to fully bloom after high school, shedding his reticence in favor of a quiet magnetism entirely befitting his feline moniker.

Would being confronted with the all-too-appealing reality of Kenma's newly confident presence make you regress into a dumbstruck, overly flustered mess like you were as kids?

Lost in your whirling contemplations, you nearly missed the ping of an incoming text from Kenma:

"Made it through arrivals. Meet you outside?"

You startled slightly, clutching your carry-on bag as you pivoted towards the exit. Sure enough, there stood Kenma - posture slouched in that trademark listless slouch of his with hands stuffed into the pockets of a mustard yellow hoodie emblazoned with his gaming company's logo.

But beyond that superficially laidback veneer, his penetrating cat-like gaze missed nothing. Those keen amber eyes flickered over every detail of you in one sweeping glance - from your wind-tousled hair down to your ankle boots. A slight furrow creased Kenma's brow, mouth tugging into a barely perceptible frown as if dissatisfied by his visual assessment.

Before you could finish approaching him, he seemed to shake himself minutely from whatever critique had taken place. The corners of his lips quirking up into a lopsided shadow of his former boyish grin.

"Yo," Kenma greeted you with that same trademark laconic inflection even after all these years. "Long flight?"

You simply nodded, still struggling to find your footing and access the right combination of words to respond properly. Up close now, you found yourself momentarily stupefied by just how much Kenma had changed over the separation, yet somehow still manifestly embodied his innately intriguing core essence.

There was an indescribable charged electricity snapping between you two - bristling with poignant nostalgia and thrilling new tension. The corners of Kenma's slanted eyes crinkled fractionally, reflexively interpreting each one of your minute micro expressions with that eerie perceptiveness he always possessed.

"Well let's get you home and settled in, yeah?" he prompted at last when you failed to break the silence.

Nimble fingers feathered across your knuckles, sliding into your grasp before tugging you towards the exit with that same featherlight yet insistent guidance you had grown so accustomed to as kids. Knitting your brows in bemused consternation, you could only nod and allow his silent lead - the first of many unspoken exchanges that threatened to strip away all remaining defenses.

The ride back to Kenma's place was mostly quiet, each of you slipping into familiar contemplative lulls between stretches of idle chitchat and getting reacquainted. You stole sideways glances while stopped at traffic lights - drinking in all the intricate details of his profile in crystalline crisp focus.

The angular, almost severe slash of his jawline and slightly fuller pout to his lower lip. The high sweep of aristocratic cheekbones seamlessly blending into sculpted yet soft edges of his face. Even the prickling roost of silken blond roots already peeking through his two-toned tresses drew your lingering eye.

By the time Kenma smoothly navigated into the underground parking complex of his residential high-rise, you felt dazed and off-kilter as if emerging from the thick miasma of a dream. When had your oldest friend transformed into someone so inexplicably alluring yet unyielding to casual appreciation?

Kenma retrieved your solitary suitcase from the rear hatch, sweeping his hooded gaze over you consideringly through those longish fringe strands. There was a fleeting spark of mischievousness that reminded you so acutely of the Kenma from your childhood days - making your pulse kick up double-time.

"You ready to head in?" He cocked one eyebrow inscrutably. "I've got a feeling you could use a nap from all your...spacing out on the drive."

You flushed slightly at Kenma's acknowledgment of you essentially devouring him with your eyes during the entire commute. Clearing your throat, you mustered a nonchalant shrug.

"A power nap does sound amazingly good right about now," you admitted, falling into step beside him as you navigated the corridors towards the building's elevator bank.

Kenma hummed noncommittally, deft fingers already tapping out a lightning cadence against the side of your suitcase in a gesture unmistakably gaming-adjacent. The old compulsive tic brought a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You stole a sidelong glance at your oldest friend, wondering what sorts of virtual adventures currently captivated the nimble-minded focus you recalled so vividly from long-winded gaming sessions in his bedroom as kids. So much had changed, yet that inherent core of what made Kenma so uniquely himself clearly persisted.

Once inside his impressively spacious flat, you immediately understood why he had offered to host you instead of booking a generic hotel. The entire open-concept living area seemed expressly appointed to revolve around an imposing, multi-monitor gaming rig complete with a professional-grade broadcasting setup.

Various cat-themed peripherals and an impressive library of neatly displayed physical and digital game collections cluttered nearly every flat surface. You caught your reflection in the smoked glass case enshrining a particularly eye-catching piece of merchandise - anaberrant juxtaposition of the cosmopolitan living space tailored around Kenma's unapologetic video game devotion.

A wry chuckle from behind you made you twist back to face him. The diminutive smile playing across his lips suggested he accurately interpreted your bemused expression.

"I see that look on most people whenever they visit for the first time," Kenma murmured in that rich, honeyed voice of his that you weren't remotely prepared for. "They expect my 'career' to be some sort of immature pipe dream rather than global brand."

You shook your head quickly at the veiled hint of reproach beneath that mild observation. "No, I just...it's exactly the kind of space I always envisioned you creating for yourself, to be honest," you replied sincerely. "I think it's incredible how you've genuinely established this whole lifestyle and identity for yourself completely on your own passions and terms."

Kenma regarded you with a glimmer of pleasant surprise flickering across his striking features before smoothing them back into that familiar half-lidded aloofness. Still, you caught the way his gaze sharpened infinitesimally.

"Well, since you're the only other person who truly grasps my 'lifestyle,' I'm sure I can count on you to make yourself at home." His tongue darted out to wet his lips - a minute gesture you found your focus utterly arrested by for some reason. "The guest suite is just through here."

Amber-gold eyes met yours unflinchingly, sparking with an unspoken invitation to comment. You swallowed thickly but forced yourself to nod, shuffling after Kenma as he turned and began leading you down a dimly lit hallway.

After stowing your luggage, he ushered you into a decadently appointed en suite - complete with a massive walk-in rainfall shower that sent your exhaustion-hazed thoughts careening into rather unbecoming territory. You swiftly refocused as Kenma leaned against the marble vanity, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Go ahead and get settled however you need," he prompted with a vague gesture around the posh accommodations. "I'll probably be streaming for the next few hours, but you're welcome to hang out once you've recharged."

Inclining his head towards the threshold, Kenma paused just briefly - long enough for you to catch the indescribably weighted undercurrent flickering across his expression before he schooled his features. Then he pivoted, padding out in that signature laidback shuffle while you were left to stare dumbly at the patterns in the granite tile.

As the hot cascade of a shower finally began unwinding the knots of tension from travel, you couldn't ignore the steadily gathering storm of uncertainty swirling within. Part of you instinctively raised guards, preparing for the intense nostalgia and rekindled intimacy of reminiscing with Kenma to open up old wounds you thought had been neatly sutured years ago.

The other part, however - the shamelessly indulgent facet you struggled to repress - eagerly anticipated whatever unspoken electricity seemed to be steadily exerting its gravitational pull.

After luxuriating under the pulsing streams of the walk-in shower until the water ran tepid, you reluctantly toweled off and padded back into the guest suite. You were enveloped in one of the plushest terry cloth robes imaginable as you cinched it securely and paused to survey your temporary accommodations.

Sunlight slanted across the polished hardwood in warm bands, filtering through the gauzy curtains to cast everything in a gilded afternoon glow. Your gaze snagged on the embossed geometric patterns woven through the textured area rug - such an unexpected departure from the stark minimalist aesthetic you'd have imagined Kenma cultivating in his home.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, you ran fingertips over the intricately carved patterns detailed in the wooden bedframe's footboard. So many thoughtful design touches married throughout the space that exuded a bespoke richness and warmth wholly juxtaposed against the more austere tech-centric common areas.

You couldn't resist trailing further across the plush duvet, indulging in the heavenly glide of high thread-count cotton against your calf. Seriously, how had Kenma assembled such an indulgent oasis within his gaming lair? The simple boyhood recollections you harbored cast everything in a new intriguing light.

Just as you had begun contemplating what else in Kenma's carefully curated world might challenge your established perception of him, a series of rhythmic knocks rapped against the guest suite's door.

"You decent?" His instantly recognizable dulcet tone preceded him by a beat before the door eased open a sliver.

"Of course, come in," you replied automatically, reflexively tugging the plush lapels together.

Kenma slipped through the narrow opening, clad in a long-sleeved shirt emblazoned with stylized cat motifs and a pair of formfitting joggers that embraced lean muscle definition you actively avoided ogling. Shoving his hands into the front pockets, he bobbed his head in an idle suite.

"Figured I'd come check and see if you managed to get some rest."

"More or less," you hedged with a lopsided smile. "Your shower was heavenly for working out some lingering flight stiffness at least."

A faint tinge of color brushed across Kenma's arched cheekbones at the innocuous mention of the shower. Had your imagination gone so utterly to seed that something as simple as—

"Cool, good. I'm all wrapped up with my gaming sessions for the day, if you want to..." he trailed off, adam's apple bobbing minutely before venturing a sidelong look through those burnished lashes. "Or we could just order something for dinner and...I don't know, hang?"

The weight of unspoken implication behind that seemingly casual invitation hit you like a visceral punch, momentarily robbing you of your voice. Instinct shouted to claim the offering, while deeply ingrained reservations around compromising a cherished lifelong friendship threatened to override any forward impulses.

After a protracted pause, you cleared your throat quietly. "Yeah, sounds great." Steadying yourself with a measured inhale, you lifted your chin as a slow smile unfurled across your lips. "I'm famished, so...what are you feeling?"

A muscle in Kenma's jaw ticked fleetingly, eyes glittering for just a moment before blinking back to their trademark heavy-lidded warmth. "I could go for some hot pot...lots of protein. Think you can handle the spice?"

The edges of his mouth curled into an undeniably flirtatious grin that sent your pulse skittering immediately into double-time. You felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but leaned into the pull of his focused magnetism rather than shrinking away.

"Oh, I can handle anything you wanna dish out," You tossed back, surprising yourself with the faint purr underlying your words.

Without looking away, you slowly rose to your feet - allowing the plush robe to slough off one shoulder with deliberately choreographed casualness. Kenma's breath audibly hitched, eyes darkening momentarily in appreciation before his lips parted on a low exhale.

"Is that right? I'll have to remember you said that." His voice dropped into a sin-tinged register that went straight to your core. "We have...all sorts of games to play later."

The unmistakable undercurrent behind his double entendre sent another rush of molten heat cascading through you. This time you responded with nothing but a subtle arch of one brow, staring him down in electrified silence as the air itself seemed to thicken and throb with heated tension.

Until finally Kenma ceded the moment with an almost pained hiss through his teeth before pivoting on his heel. "I'll get that order placed. You might want to slip into something...sturdier."

You suppressed the urge to openly gape at his rapidly retreating form, frozen in the wake of whatever had just viscerally transpired. Of one thing you were abruptly certain - these coming days would be more of a test of endurance than either of you seemed prepared for.

The spice Kenma alluded to was poised to burn you down to ash before you even had a chance to compute the inferno.

The pungent aroma of simmering broth and assorted proteins wafted through the apartment as you settled across from Kenma at the kitchen island. A dizzying array of small plates and dipping sauces had been meticulously arranged, as if this were some elaborate streaming event rather than a casual dinner.

"I may have gone a bit overboard," Kenma admitted, sweeping a hand over the impressive spread with an uncharacteristically sheepish tilt to his mouth. "Old habits and all that."

You couldn't resist letting out a low appreciative whistle. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flexing for your captive audience here."

Grabbing your chopsticks, you deftly plucked a perfectly seared slice of marbled wagyu from the central hot pot, purposefully locking eyes with Kenma as you brought the morsel to your lips. His gaze followed, rapt and laser-focused, as you slipped the tender beef past your parted lips with an involuntary moan of satisfaction.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, low and rough like gravel.

You paused mid-chew, certain your ears had to be playing tricks. But the heated intensity burning behind Kenma's stare left no ambiguity about the undercurrent thrumming between you. Recovering with a coquettish arch of one brow, you reached for one of the small dipping dishes - fingers brushing against the back of his wrist accidentally-on-purpose.

"No, I really don't," you murmured before deliberately dragging your tongue along the plump swell of your bottom lip to collect a stray smear of savory-sweet sauce. "Why don't you elaborate for me?"

A muscle ticked faintly along Kenma's chiseled jawline as his gaze followed the unconscious path of your tongue with rapt fixation. You watched his pupils slowly dilate, then narrow into frozen precision as his lips parted on a harsh exhalation.

For an endless stretch, the thickening silence seemed to yawn between you, weighted with the echo of your suggestive challenge. Unsure whether to double down or backpedal, you felt suspended in a crystalline stasis awaiting Kenma's response like it held the power to upend your world.

"Well, well...look who's developed a bold side in their old age," he finally rumbled in that sinfully textured timbre you weren't remotely prepared to withstand. His smirk sharpened fractionally as one elegant fingertip traced the rim of a small ceramic dish filled with delicately pink pickled ginger. "Trust me, I have plenty to...elaborate on, if you think you can keep up."

Your breath hitched faintly as he raised the dish to his mouth, sweeping his tongue with excruciating indolence across the glistening ginger to collect the tangy juices. He held your widening stare hostage as he hollowed his cheeks around the soft flesh suggestively before withdrawing with a quietly filthy sound.

"How's the heat treating you so far?" Kenma practically purred after a considering pause. "Because it's about to get much...much more intense."

You could only swallow thickly, wishing you could play the consummate picture of unruffled nonchalance like he did. Instead, you shifted unconsciously in your seat - tormented by an uncomfortable tightness in your jeans from the undeniable pull of Kenma's molten confidence.

For his part, the setter-turned-streamer simply watched you steadily over the rim of his beer glass as he sipped. Seemingly amused by your flustered state and secure in the knowledge he'd already seized the upper hand in whatever game stood to unfurl between you over the coming days.

Before either of you could press the heated boundaries further, a strident chirp echoed from the hallway - effectively shattering the thick tension with its jarring intrusion.

Kenma quirked one brow in irritation before rising smoothly to his feet, shooting you one last unreadable look from beneath his lashes as he stalked off to retrieve whatever device was clamoring for his attention.

Left alone, you huffed out a sharp exhale, remnants of desire still prickling across your heated skin like a brand. Muttering a soft curse under your breath, you steadied your racing pulse and turned your focus back towards the array of food with something adjacent to grim determination.

One way or another, you were going to wrestle back control of this game before it devolved into utter capitulation to the hypnotically smoldering aura Kenma had somehow mastered in your absence.

Little did you realize you had already resigned yourself to becoming the moth irresistibly fixated upon his flame...

The following week passed in a heated haze of building frustration and rapidly fraying restraint.

No matter how innocuous the interaction - lounging together on the sofa while Kenma orchestrated one of his streaming sessions, accompanying him on idyllic forays across Tokyo to revisit childhood haunts, even the mundane domesticity of sharing meals - an inescapable undercurrent of restless tension thrummed like a livewire between you.

Countless moments where your gazes would lock in a protracted stare; fingertips "accidentally" brushing along exposed skin and triggering full-body shockwaves resonating bone-deep. The perpetual push-and-pull of flirtation somehow elevating errant touches and otherwise innocuous exchanges into something hungering and profane.

Kenma no longer bothered to disguise the appreciative trail of his penetrating stare roving across your form whenever you bent or stretched. You quickly acclimated to the hot skim of his focus mapping every curve and dip overtly, pupils dilating with shamelessly burning desire he didn't seem inclined to sate.

For your part, you began unconsciously rising to match that unhurried confidence - boldly regarding Kenma's lithe, powerful physique with the same sensuous appreciation. Emboldened by how his throat would noticeably tighten every time your eyes dropped to linger across the vee of his collarbones, hips subtly canting forward whenever he sprawled in those fitted joggers that clung like a second skin.

Beyond the escalating physicality, you found yourself captivated by Kenma's rare loquaciousness about himself more than anything. Unburdened from your weighty history, he began opening up in quiet retrospective anecdotes about his passage into adulthood, steadily dismantling your preconceptions about his insular nature.

Like how he had secretly sponsored a children's e-sports program to guide underprivileged kids into careers in the burgeoning gaming industry. Or the surprising revelation that he regularly worked pro-bono with speech pathologists to design specialized voice controls for disability accessibility.

This was a side of Kenma's generosity and altruism towards the community fostering his career that you never could have envisioned. And with each newy facet, you found yourself plunging deeper under his unrelenting pull - utterly infatuated with who this remarkable man had become.

He simply chuckled, low and throaty, each time you gushed over some fresh depth unveiled. Absorbing your unrestrained awe and esteem with the same private relish as whenever you "inadvertently" provoked him into undisguised want. The heady combination only fanned the flames of simmering tension blazing between you.

It was on the eighth night sequestered together when Kenma decided to press the boundaries once more.

You were sprawled on the plush area rug before the oversized sectional, cycling through television menus in a vain attempt to pick something suitable to watch. A frustrated huff punched from your chest as you reached the end of yet another recommendations category that failed to inspire.

"Everything looks so mindless and forgettable nowadays," you mused, half to yourself. "What happened to real stories being told?"

A low chuckle resonated from behind you, vaguely Kenma-scented air puffing across the nape of your neck. You hadn't even registered his approach until his muscular form settled on the rug beside you with only a whisper of displaced fabric. The gold-green kaleidoscope of his eyes practically glowed with wicked mischief at your obvious failure.

"Well if you crave imaginative narratives so badly, maybe you'd fare better diving into a real fantasy scenario instead."

The rich velvet of Kenma's timbre immediately snapped every iota of your focus towards him. Your eyebrows lifted quizzically as he leaned in incrementally closer, fringe of silky hair feathering along your temple.

"What did you have in mind?"

Another low rumble ghosted your hairline as Kenma hummed almost inaudibly. "Let's just say...I have a distinctly illicit form of entertainment that may require your unbiased opinion."

Intrigue sparked low in your abdomen at the deliciously unspoken implications behind his words. Before you could fully decide whether or not to indulge his transparent flirtation, Kenma was already rising to his feet once more - extending one elegant hand down towards you in silent invitation.

Scarcely daring to breathe, you allowed him to pull you upright before following his lead towards the hallway. You pretended not to notice how his palm scorched the naked small of your back through the thin cotton tanktop as he ushered you across the darkened threshold into his inner sanctum.

A hushed, ambient glow bathed Kenma's bedroom in shades of moody twilight as you stepped over the threshold. Various pieces of gaming memorabilia and framed promotional artwork adorned the walls, creating an insulated atmosphere that existed in a world entirely unto itself.

Without preamble, Kenma crossed to the sleek desktop monitor setup, fingers already flying in a flurry of keystrokes and clicks as he booted up whatever "illicit entertainment" he had teased. You hovered uncertainly in the center of the space, casting furtive glances around the dimly lit sanctuary that emanated pure Kenma energy.

"Have a seat," he prompted without turning around - as if acutely aware of your momentary hesitation. "Get comfortable."

You cleared your throat but obeyed, carefully perching on the edge of Kenma's massivebed. The plush duvet conformed luxuriously to your weight, upholstered in some sort of sleek microfiber that reminded you of a cat's velveteen coat. Inexplicably, you found yourself burrowing your fingers through the decadent bedding's nap while studying Kenma's form in sidelong profile.

The muted blue-white glow from his monitors caressed the elegant contours of his face, shadowing the regal sweep of cheekbones and strong jawline in stark chiaroscuro. You marveled at just how much he had evolved from the reserved, rail-thin youth of your memories into the tantalizingly statuesque man before you now. One defined by an aura of languid intensity and assured command over whatever scenario unfolded around him.

As if he could sense the weight of your rapt scrutiny, Kenma angled towards you incrementally - chin dipping just enough to pin you momentarily with the full smolder of that heavy-lidded golden stare. His lush mouth curved into the barest ghost of a smirk, clearly relishing whatever discovery had your undivided attention so thoroughly enraptured.

"Second thoughts about seeing how the other half indulges their fantasies?" he murmured, pitching his already simmering timbre at a register that seemed scientifically engineered to inflame your senses.

An involuntary shiver rippled through you despite the heated flush creeping up your neck. Swallowing hard, you mirrored the slow, molten sweep of Kenma's eyes with one of your own - unabashed in drinking in each lean, corded muscle shifting beneath his fitted tee.

"Not a chance," you rasped, proud of how steady you managed to keep your voice despite the electrifying lash of his focus. "I'm the one who thrives on having my boundaries thoroughly...obliterated."

Kenma held your weighted stare for one suspended heartbeat longer before his tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip with unconscious sensuality. You mirrored the visceral action, entirely mesmerized by the naked want flickering across his strikingly beautiful features in that crystalline moment.

Then he seemed to resettle his composure like an unshakeable monolith, turning back towards the computer monitors as he clicked open some file directory. You subtly repositioned yourself more comfortably on the bed, back canting against the sturdy headboard while determinedly ignoring each tantalizing glimpse of scarlet duvet bunched around you in disheveled invitation.

A few more staccato keystrokes and suddenly one of the monitors flared to luminescent life - the unmistakable refrains of an overly saccharine J-pop opening sequence blaring through Kenma's speakers.

The game loaded on Kenma's monitor, intro music at odds with the charged atmosphere. You watched raptly as a buxom anime avatar appeared - her features and proportions eerily…familiar.

"Kenma..." You began, then trailed off, unsure if you wanted confirmation of what seemed obvious.

He didn't respond right away, deftly navigating the opening scenarios with deft keystrokes and clicks. Only when the digital woman began making coy, suggestive comments did you see him tense imperceptibly.

You studied the sharp lines of his profile, the slight parting of his lips as he deliberately avoided your questioning gaze. Finally, he exhaled - the sound low and fraught.

"I've had this commissioned mod for a while now," Kenma murmured, finally glancing your way with molten eyes. "From certain...unflattering angles, she captures some essence of you that's proven...distracting."

Your mouth went dry as you processed his oblique admission. Kenma had essentially crafted a digital embodiment of you to indulge his fantasies privately. The thought was overwhelmingly, incendiary.

"Show me," you heard yourself reply, proud of how steady your tone remained.

Kenma exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as the digital avatar paused mid-scenario. His eyes cut towards you, burning intensity simmering behind those heavy lids.

"This next interaction gets...decidedly more intimate," he murmured, a muscle ticking along his chiseled jaw. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"

You held his searing gaze, giving a small nod. Kenma's lips parted on a ragged exhale before he continued guiding the game. The simulated woman began uttering breathless endearments, describing in graphic detail the acts she longed for her partner to indulge. You felt heat prickling across your skin as Kenma's jaw went taut, his own arousal visibly kindling.

"Look at her, begging for it so shamelessly," he rasped, not looking at the screen. His smoldering eyes bored into you. "But she doesn't even begin to fully capture the reality of how intoxicating you are."

Your breath hitched at the undisguised yearning that threaded his deep velvet tone. Kenma's chest rose and fell rapidly, desire and restraint wrestling across his striking features.

"To have you panting my name..." He continued roughly. "Writhing against me as I finally make good on every heated fantasy..."

A low, guttural sound tumbled from his parted lips as he abruptly shoved back from the desk. In two strides, he towered over you - an inscrutable, blazing force looming above where you sat rooted to the bed. You could only gaze up, up at him, dizzy with spiraling need.

Then Kenma simply...moved.

One moment, you were shakily inhaling his earthy, spice-tinged scent. The next, the universe distilled to the scalding slide of his mouth possessively claiming yours. A guttural rumble reverberated from deep within his chest as you eagerly opened for the fervent sweep of his tongue.

Any last vestiges of restraint shattered irreparably.

You clung to the sinewy lines of Kenma's back as he walked you further up the bed without relinquishing his devouring kiss. Finally breaking just long enough to gaze upon you with eyes guttering like banked embers, before swooping down to map every exposed inch of feverish skin with a desperate, open-mouthed reverence.

Every scorching path of his tongue and teeth left you arching helplessly against him, hands clutching greedily at the powerful lines of his frame. The sensation of him, warm and solid and overwhelming, left your pulse careening into double-time.

Then one leanly muscled thigh slid between yours, applying the barest hint of pressure that threatened to shatter you. You moaned his name, hips instinctively canting against him in search of sweet relief.

Kenma merely growled - a predatory, primal sound - before seizing your wrists and pinning them above your head. His smoldering stare met yours, pupils dilated until his eyes resembled two obsidian pools ringed in liquid fire.

"I can feel just how badly you need this," he rasped, a note of disbelief threading through his tone. "How you're fucking dripping for me."

You gasped, shuddering as the blunt force of his thigh pressed harder against your aching core. Then his free hand dipped below the waistband of your jeans, sliding sinuously through the slick arousal pooling there.

Kenma hissed out a curse as his fingertips stroked feather-light patterns across your throbbing clit. Each touch sent white-hot sparks spiraling through you, a deliciously building pressure that left you whimpering incoherently.

"Fuck, I could play with your gorgeous cunt all night."

Kenma punctuated his darkly erotic admission with the sinuous slide of one long finger inside you. Your walls immediately clenched around him, back bowing with the delicious intrusion.

He released a low groan, adding a second finger to the first as your hips rocked against his hand. He held your gaze, molten and hungry as he pumped his fingers mercilessly in and out of your soaking heat.

"You're taking me so fucking beautifully," he purred, his free hand skimming the hem of your shirt up just enough toexpose the supple curve of your breasts. "So eager for every bit of pleasure I can give you."

Your nipples pebbled immediately, aching for his touch. Kenma leaned down, tongue flicking the straining peak of one sensitive nub before drawing it between his lips. You keened as the sensation arrowed directly to the molten pool of need building within.

Kenma hummed low in approval, the vibration rippling across your nipple and sending fresh shudders coursing through you. Then he was curling his fingers, stroking a spot so deliciously deep you saw stars.

Your entire world collapsed into the single point of Kenma's relentless thrusts, the maddening flick of his tongue and the torturous suction of his mouth against your breasts. Every nerve ending crackled and burned with the electric friction he stoked higher, higher, until—

A sob tore from your throat as you felt Kenma slide his fingers out of you. You were left trembling, utterly wrecked and bereft - a string of pleas and curses tumbling incoherently from your lips.

"Please, I-I was so close."

Kenma gazed down, lips swollen and reddened from his relentless kisses. "Don't worry, I'm nowhere near finished with you."

With that, he began unbuttoning your jeans, slowly easing the denim and dampened fabric of your panties down your trembling legs. Your entire body sang at the feeling of being utterly bare before him.

Then his eyes widened, a low sound like a snarl vibrating from his chest as he took in the sight of your slick, glistening cunt. You flushed at the unbridled hunger reflected there, the knowledge that it was because of him - his touch, his words, his body - that had you absolutely soaked.

Without preamble, Kenma was on his knees between your legs, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as his mouth descended. You cried out at the first hot swipe of his tongue, hands instinctively burying themselves in the silky softness of his hair.

Kenma groaned at the sensation, the sound resonating directly against your clit. His lips sealed around the swollen bundle of nerves, the faintest graze of his teeth sending fresh spasms of pleasure wracking through you.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think - every fiber of your being a raw, exposed livewire crackling under Kenma's unhurried attention. The languid drag of his tongue as it plunged into your aching depths, the obscene sounds as he sucked your clit. Every sensation was a blissful torment that had you bucking against his face, desperate for more.

Kenma seemed to relish in your uninhibited abandon. He tightened his hold, pulling you even closer against his ravenous mouth. A keening cry tore from your lips as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, lapping up every bit of your honeyed arousal.

You felt your walls begin to flutter, the molten pressure building with every swipe of Kenma's wicked tongue. Just as you were about to come undone, his mouth pulled away.

A broken whimper tumbled from your lips as he began kissing a slow, scorching path up the quivering plane of your stomach, across the dip between your breasts. All the while, his hands caressed the heated flesh of your inner thighs, teasing so close to the slick heat throbbing for him.

"Not yet," he rumbled, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. "I need to feel your pretty cunt squeezing around my cock before you come."

He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt off, revealing a chiseled torso rippling with lean, powerful muscles. The sight sent a fresh surge of need pulsing through you.

Kenma reached for the waistband of his joggers, shoving the fabric down with agonizing indolence. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy and dripping. Your breath caught at the sight.

With a low groan, he palmed the rigid length, his thumb spreading the bead of precum at his swollen tip. He held your gaze as he stroked himself, lips parting on a ragged exhale.

"See what you do to me," he gritted, the corded muscles of his forearm flexing. "My beautiful, perfect girl."

The unadulterated reverence in his voice sent a surge of heat racing through you. Kenma's nostrils flared, a growl resonating deep in his chest.

"You're practically begging to have my cock stretching that tight cunt," he continued roughly, leaning down until the molten tip of his length grazed the seam of your soaking entrance. "I could take you right now."

A shudder coursed through you as his head nudged against your throbbing clit. Your hips arched instinctively, seeking the delicious friction. Kenma let out a low, pained sound.

"That's it, fuck yourself on me," he growled, eyes blazing with a possessive, predatory lust.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan spilling from your lips as his shaft dragged through your soaked folds. Every inch of your skin felt scorched, hypersensitive - the air itself charged with electricity.

Then Kenma was reaching down, lining the swollen tip of his length against your aching entrance. His hand gripped the back of your thighs, holding you open as he pressed forward.

You bit back a cry, back arching as his cock stretched you inch by delicious inch. Your walls fluttered and clenched, struggling to accommodate his girth. But Kenma kept going, a low stream of praise falling from his lips as his hands skimmed soothing patterns across your trembling thighs.

"That's it, I've got you. Such a good girl, taking every fucking inch."

A moan slipped from your lips as he bottomed out, the sensation of his thick cock filling you utterly overwhelming. His hips rocked slowly, allowing you to adjust.

You gripped the sheets, struggling to stay tethered to reality. The feeling of Kenma's length buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your thighs, his smoldering gaze pinning you. It was all too much, but still not enough.

"Please," you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

Kenma's nostrils flared, the tendons of his throat flexing as he swallowed hard. Then he began thrusting, each stroke a searing slide of friction. The heels of his palms dug into your waist as he pinned you with his weight, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

Your moans filled the air, interspersed with the slick, filthy sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your aching cunt. You writhed, helpless beneath the delicious onslaught, his length stroking places that left you breathless.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Kenma rasped, his grip on your hips tightening. "And look how beautifully you take my cock."

A flush bloomed across your heated skin, a delicious ache building with every thrust. You whimpered as Kenma's thumb began circling your swollen clit, the added sensation driving you to the brink.

"I can feel how close you are," he rumbled, the molten intensity in his gaze unwavering. "Give me everything, sweet girl."

A shudder wracked through you, your walls fluttering as you teetered on the edge. Kenma's thumb moved faster, his thrusts picking up a punishing rhythm.

"Come for me."

Your vision blurred, ecstasy crashing over you in wave after wave of rapture. A cry tore from your lips, back arching as your pussy clenched and squirted around his thick length. Kenma let out a guttural groan, his strokes growing erratic as his own release approached.

You moaned, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock throbbing and swelling inside you. Kenma's head fell back, eyes closed as his thrusts became frenzied. His jaw clenched, a ragged groan escaping his parted lips as he finally came.

His length pulsed inside you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum. You shuddered, the sensation pushing you into a second, unexpected climax. Kenma growled, thrusting through both of your releases until you were utterly spent.

You lay there panting, struggling to catch your breath as Kenma's weight settled beside you. He reached out, trailing a fingertip down the slope of your cheek, the hollow of your throat. You shivered, still hypersensitive.

"Beautiful," he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.

A soft hum slipped from your mouth as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. You sighed, content to melt into the deliciously sated haze that permeated the aftermath.

Then, Kenma's voice sounded again, low and rumbling from deep within his chest:

"You should move in."

Your eyes flew open, breath hitching as the full import of his words hit you. Kenma's arms tightened, a subtle tension radiating across his powerful frame.

"I know it’s selfish, but I wasn’t planning on letting you leave if I’d worked up the courage to confess to you," he continued quietly, his breath warm against your neck. "You don't have to, but—"

"Yes."

The word slipped from your lips before you even had time to fully process the decision. But the moment it hung suspended in the charged silence, you knew the answer was inevitable.

"Yes?" Kenma echoed, something like wonder threading through his voice.

You twisted to meet his gaze, the faintest flicker of hope reflected there. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a giddy warmth blossoming across your chest.

"Yes," you repeated, punctuating the word with a gentle kiss to his parted lips. "There's no way in hell I'm leaving you now."

Kenma hummed, a slow smile of his own curving his mouth as he pulled you even closer. You felt his lips brush the shell of your ear, his words a warm murmur of contentment:

"Good. Because you're not going anywhere."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kenma x reader smut #kenma fluff #kenma smut #kenma kuzome #kenma x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma

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heejake-hoon · 2 months

Text

Please officer ...

S: The one where Officer Jay makes sure to fuck all the senses out of you. Warnings: Jay is anything but gentle, very mean Jay, very desperate reader, spitting, choking, begging (a lot), names calling, very messy and kinda nasty sex... A.N: this is pure smut, there is barely a plot.

You sank obediently to your knees before the stern-faced officer, hands trembling with a heady mix of arousal and trepidation as they hovered over his belt buckle. Meeting his intense stare, you unconsciously wet your lips in a silent plea, hoping to convey your desperation for him to claim you.

But Officer Jay was unmoved by your blatant attempt at seduction. His expression remained impassive, brows raised in a mild show of bemusement as he simply stared down at you, making no move to aid or deter your efforts.

Swallowing hard, you slowly untucked his crisp shirt from the waistband of his trousers with quivering fingers, forcing yourself to hold his gaze all the while. You were determined to prove your utter submission, to shatter that maddening veneer of control until he couldn't resist ravishing you utterly.

With each button you undid, you leaned in closer, your warm breath ghosting in a teasing caress over the trail of toned abdomen you gradually exposed. Your lips brushed feather-light against his heated skin as you worked your way lower and lower still, until finally nuzzling against the coarse hair of his groin.

His length was a heavy, throbbing presence straining against the front of his trousers, begging for release from its confines. You nosed boldly at the prominent bulge, mouthing hot and slick along the outline as best you could through the barrier of fabric. All the while, your eyes remained locked on his, silently challenging that iron grip he had on his restraint.

A muscle ticked sharply in Officer Jay's clenched jaw as he stared back at you, his hands fisting rigidly at his sides. You could see the barest flare of his nostrils as you brazenly outlined every ridge and vein of his immense girth with your lips and tongue, leaving behind a shining trail of saliva on the material.

But still he refrained from touching you, from burying himself in the welcoming heat of your mouth as you knew he was aching to do. Never mind that his piercing gaze was bruisingly intense as it roamed your features, that his chest was heaving just the slightest bit more rapidly with his shallow breaths.

Another piteous whine slipped free as you realized just how unaffected by your efforts he appeared. Wetness seeped from your neglected core, trickling in shameful rivulets down your inner thighs as desperation swiftly eroded any shreds of self-restraint.

Grabbing his hips in your hands, you rutted your cheek shamelessly against the rigid line of his cock, your entire body trembling with need. "Please..." you rasped, sparing one pleading glance up at him through the veil of your lashes. "Please, Officer...I need you."

He said nothing, made no move to touch you as he simply drank in your disheveled, craving form for one torturously protracted moment. Just when you were certain you would go mad with lust for him, another guttural groan slipped unbidden from between his clenched teeth, the sound vibrating in that gravelly timbre that had haunted your fantasies.

And then, before you realized his intention, one corded forearm lashed out in a blur. You felt a sharp pang of discomfort as your hair was gripped in an unforgiving fist, wrenching your head back at a punishing angle to gaze up at him. His face was utterly thunderous, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide as he finally relinquished the last shreds of his vaunted control.

"You wanton little slut," he seethed, each word ground out between grit teeth. "You'll get what you're begging for, and more..."

Jay's grip was unrelenting, bordering on brutality as he used his fistful of your hair to roughly yank you even closer to his straining erection. His free hand made short work of his trousers, allowing his throbbing length to spring free at last.

"Open," he growled, the steel in his voice making it clear it was an order, not a request.

You immediately complied, lips parting in eager obedience. But just before he could sheath himself in the welcoming heat of your mouth, he paused. His lust-glazed gaze roamed boldly over you, drinking in the desperate sheen of arousal glazing your features.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" His words were sandpaper rough, visceral and dripping with unchecked desire. "To get caught and punished like the depraved little slut you are?"

A piteous whimper slipped free at his brutal phrasing, your thighs unconsciously shifting in a silent plea for friction, for anything to alleviate the molten ache between them. But Officer Jay was merciless, ignoring your wanton display and tightening his grip in your hair in pointed warning.

"Answer me when I ask you something," he thundered, his free hand roughly gripping your chin to hold your focus when you simply whimpered again.

"Y-Yes!" you finally managed, the single word emerging high and reedy and utterly desperate. "Please, Officer... I need it. I need you inside me so bad!"

His eyes and nostrils flared at your explicit admission, drinking in your lewd supplication with naked hunger. For one tantalizing instant, his control seemed to waver before reassembling itself, his expression hardening once more into an imperious mask.

"You're going to have to beg better than that if you want to feel my cock stretching that greedy little pussy," he sneered, dragging the broad head along the seam of your lips, smearing the glistening bead of arousal there in an obscene tease. "Show me how desperate you really are for it."

Your moan was shamelessly loud at the blatant promise laced into his rough words, sounding broken and incoherent even to your own ears. Any remaining vestiges of pride or propriety burned away under the searing onslaught of your lust. You would've professed your fealty to Satan himself if he asked in that moment, so long as he rewarded you with that thick, painful-looking length sheathed fully inside you.

Jay's grip tightened further, to the point of pulsing pain as he leaned in until his face was just inches from yours. His scorching gaze skewered you, pupils swallowing up nearly all the brown of his irises as molten lust and vicious control warred for dominance.

"Well?" He rumbled, voice like gravel ground underfoot. "I'm waiting..."

The hint of challenge, of threat, in his resonant tone snapped the final thread tethering you to coherent thought. With a broken, garbled cry, you strained up as far as you were able in his unrelenting grip, mouth stretching wide in mute, mindless entreaty.

A snarl twisted Jay's features into something fiercely primal as he watched your submission play out. He released your hair abruptly, only to fist both hands into the sweat-dampened strands and yank your head back until it was nearly bent in half.

Then, without any further preamble, he shoved himself fully into your waiting mouth.

A raw, hoarse sound of mingled pleasure and relief rasped from his throat as he bottomed out against the back of your constricted airway. You gagged indelicately around his punishing girth, eyes watering and throat convulsing in a desperate bid to accommodate the thick invasion.

But any protest you may have attempted was ruthlessly silenced as he immediately established a ferocious tempo, slamming into your mouth with piston-like thrusts. Spittle and errant strands of your hair whipped wildly with each savage drive, his testicles slapping with emphatic cruelty against your chin.

"That's it, take it like the cock-hungry slut you are," Jay snarled, his voice utterly wrecked with lust. "Feel how hard your desperation's made me, you filthy little one."

You sobbed around his punishing length, saliva spilling obscenely down your chin with each ruthless impalement. But the cruel degradation only inflamed your arousal further, your core clenching with each molten pulse in shameless yearning to be claimed next.

As if he could sense the depths of your depraved cravings, Jay wrenched back abruptly and shoved you away with enough force to nearly topple you over. You instinctively flinched back from him with a broken, keening cry of distress, fearing he planned to leave you hanging on the precipice once more.

But his ferocious gaze swiftly disabused you of such notions as his eyes roamed over your disheveled and thoroughly ravaged form with naked hunger.

"Get on the fucking table," he barked, already shrugging off his jacket and flinging it carelessly aside. "Hands against the wall where I can watch you try not to scream for me."

An electric thrill zipped down your spine at the unyielding command in his tone, wholly eviscerating your plans to begin pleading once more. You scurried to obey without hesitation, nearly stumbling in your haste to clamber atop the metal table and press yourself against the concrete wall as he'd ordered.

Your fingers splayed helplessly against the rough surface, trembling with equal parts trepidation and frenzied anticipation. Before you could so much as draw your next breath, you felt the rough caress of his palms gliding up the sensitive backs of your thighs, dragging deliciously along your sensitized flesh.

Deftly, his hands hooked under the hem of your skirt and shoved the restricting material up over your hips, bundling it around your waist and leaving you completely exposed to his ravenous stare. Your panties were similarly stripped away with one sharp, impatient tug, ripped off and fluttering forgotten to the floor at his feet.

You whimpered at the vulnerable position he placed you in, undeniably on display for his lavish consumption. Your slick, glistening folds were utterly bare to his intense scrutiny, your arousal undoubtedly coating your inner thighs in a mute testament to your complete desecration under his touch.

"Fuck, look how fucking soaked you are for me," you heard him grate, the growling words punctuated by the crinkle of a foil packet being ripped open behind you. "Like a bitch in heat, just desperate to be bred and pumped full of my seed."

A piteous whimper was your only reply, your arms already trembling with the strain of holding position under the onslaught of his filthy praise. The wet heat between your splayed thighs grew slicker and more insistent with each crude phrase falling from his lips, your body urging you towards the pinnacle of release you craved.

"Hold still," was his only brusque warning before the rounded head of his cock notched itself with unerring accuracy against your weeping entrance.

Then, with one blindingly vicious thrust, he sheathed himself fully inside your scorching, velvet depths.

You cried out in a strangled melange of pained shock and wanton relief as Jay's considerable girth speared into your scorching walls. Not an inch was left unfilled, the stinging burn of your pussy's brutal parting only stoking the inferno raging within you higher.

He gave you no quarter to adjust, no chance to savor the exquisite penetration you'd been yearning for. With a bestial snarl, he immediately set a pace so harsh, so ferocious that your cries evaporated into a mantra of breathless whines.

"F-Fuck...oh god,yes!" Each savage thrust punched the words from your lungs, sweat-dampened palms scrabbling for purchase against the unforgiving concrete. His hands were vicelike on your hips, nails scoring crescent moons into your flesh as he used his brutal grip to yank you back onto his jackhammering cock.

The shock of penetration soon mellowed into a delirious, mind-shredding pleasure that sizzled with delicious friction. Your cunt clenched and fluttered wildly around Jay's invading length, desperately milking him as if to draw his seed from the very depths of his being.

Each wringing constriction of your inner muscles was met with a punitive slap of his hips that jarred you viciously against the unforgiving surface, uncaring of the abrasions and bruises surely blossoming along your front. Every grunt, every profane curse and fragmented exhortation tumbling from his lips in that gravelly rasp only served to incense your lust higher.

"That's it, you cockwhore...fucking squeeze me. Take what you wanted so fucking bad!"

Unable to form any semblance of coherent response, you could only whine and shudder against the merciless onslaught. The tiny bit of give the table permitted allowed Jay to change the angle of his strokes, until he was prodding against that swoolen, ripened knot buried deep at your core.

Blindingly intense rapture ripped through your overwhelmed senses with each brushing against that magic button. A tidal wave of euphoria crested ever nearer, threatening to drag you under into sweet, welcome oblivion.

"Please...please I'm gonna..." You could barely gasp the disjointed pleas, head thrashing in mute entreaty for the release you so desperately craved. To your shock and dismay, Jay reacted by abruptly withdrawing his length from your clenching sheath with an imprecation.

Before you could so much as vocalize your confusion, you were being forcefully manhandled. With enough strength to make your bones protest, he hauled you backwards until your knees impacted the unforgiving tabletop with bruising force.

Your head lolled back helplessly, jaw hanging open and chest heaving with exertion as his hands remained fisted in your hair. The position arched your spine at an obscene angle, leaving your weeping pussy lewdly displayed and utterly vulnerable to his merciless assault.

"Needy little slut" he snarled, dragging two calloused fingertips along your swollen, flushed folds. "You'll come when I tell you to come."

Then, without further warning, he hilted himself to the throbbing root in one punishing snap of his hips.

Your rasping mewl of stunned pleasure was abruptly silenced as Jay's large palm wrapped itself around the slender column of your throat. Not choking, at least not initially, but rather a full-handed vise caging your airway with the mere promise of asphyxiating cruelty.

His fingers clenched almost idly, stealing your breath in erratic, gasping hitches with each languid flex. The lack of oxygen only made you grow lighter-headed, more pliant and malleable as he took his barbaric pleasure from your body.

"Look at you," he sneered in a tone dripping with vicious scorn. "Just a cock-starved set of holes for me to use and discard when I'm done."

Drool leaked freely from the corner of your lax mouth at his degrading taunts, spit pooling obscenely on the surface beneath you. You were utterly helpless to do anything but buck and writhe mindlessly along his pistoning length as he held you perfectly immobilized.

Every slick retreat of his girth granted you only the barest whisper of relief before he would surge forward once more. The squelching cacophony of flesh meeting flesh echoed lewdly, punctuated only by your gurgling whimpers each time the pressure on your airway spiked.

"You wanna come, whore?" His face was a rictus of lust-maddened cruelty looming over you. "Think you've earned the privilege of squeezing down nice and tight on my cock?"

The paltry dredges of your rationality screamed at you that any sounds you attempted to make would be the final wisps of oxygen leaving your lungs. But the insane frenzy of desperation had you nodding frantically anyway, jaw working soundlessly in feverish desperation.

His smirk was absolutely feral as his grip shifted from vise-like to full constriction, crushing your throat with merciless strength. You immediately flushed crimson, vision tunneling to pinpricks as he sustained the pressure beyond the brink of blacking out.

When he did finally release you, it was with a negligent flick of his fingers, as if casually swatting a gnat. You sucked in a ragged, wheezing gale of air, chest lurching violently as you gulped for breath. Only the sound of his gruff laugh grounded you, sharpening your focus back to his hulking frame still buried to the root inside of you.

"Pathetic," he scoffed, giving a rough shove that sheathed himself impossibly deeper. "Gonna have to do better than that if you want my load glazing those pretty little tits of yours."

Your piteous whimper was cut off as a fat rope of saliva abruptly arched from his sneering grin to splatter against your cheek. He shifted his stance, wedging your legs even more obscenely apart as his pace grew more punishing...

The sweat-slick valley of your cleavage bounced and jostled with each violent collision of his hips, your tightly-clenched nipples a shocking crimson against the ivory of your skin. You were nothing more than a plaything, a selfish source of friction for his own gratification as he railed you into insensibility.

And somewhere in the dissolute wasteland of your fractured psyche, you reveled in the abasement of it all.

When his next contemptuous glob of spit landed hot and thick against your parted lips, you instinctively swept your tongue out to lap up the degrading offering. The copper-bitterness of his saliva only seemed to add an extra thrill of shame, your swollen inner walls clenching in feverish spasms around his plunging length.

"That's right, been waiting for you to show me what a greedy little cumslut you are," he taunted hoarsely, punctuating the sneered words with an especially brutal ram of his hips that punched the breath from your lungs and sent stars exploding before your vision.

You were so perilously, achingly close...pleasure building and winding ever tighter like a compressed coil spring. All it would take was one more elemental force to send you careening over that dizzying edge into the abyss of oblivion.

Your surrender must have been scrawled plainly in your lust-glazed features, for Jay's expression twisted into one of wicked triumph. With his free hand, he wound the tangle of your hair around his fist once more, pulling your head back in an excruciating arch that left your throat a taut, tempting column.

His lips brushed the feverish skin there, maddeningly gentle in stark contrast to the feral hammering of his hips as he growled, "Then you'd better fucking come for me, whore."

Before you could so much as process the order, the merciless heel of his palm slammed squarely against your exposed windpipe.

The explosion of pain and asphyxiation was glorious in its intensity. What little remained of coherent thought shattered into a kaleidoscope of white-hot bliss as your world narrowed to his punishing cock and the exquisite torture of his iron grip constricting your airflow.

Even as you choked and thrashed under the debilitating onslaught, the barbaric cadence of his strokes never flagged for an instant. A high, reedy whine you could scarcely believe was issuing from your own abused throat threaded through the darkness encroaching on your consciousness.

Somewhere in the whiting-out tempest of blinding euphoria, you became vaguely aware of the molten clench of your inner muscles fluttering wildly along his invading length. You were cumming...shattering into a million kaleidoscopic fractals of pure, incandescent rapture as your climax crested in a dizzying wave.

The punitive pressure on your windpipe crested in a singular, explosive squeeze right as your release peaked, choking off what little air remained in your lungs. Vertigo and delirious elation conflated into a disorienting vertigo that had you bucking and writhing like a thing possessed.

How long the excruciation of blacking out lasted, you couldn't say. But when the darkness finally receded, you found yourself slumped limply across the tabletop in a sweaty, boneless sprawl. Ribbons of spit and mucosal strands clung obscenely to your gaping mouth and hollow cheeks, utterly debauched proof of your ruination.

A low, raspy chuckle from somewhere above you cut through the lingering cotton wool wrapped around your senses. You managed to crack your eyes open just enough to make out Jay's imposing silhouette looming over your prone form, sleeves shoved up to his elbows and cheeks still hectic with exertion.

"Fuck..." he grunted in a tone caught between disgust and grudging admiration. His large palm connected with your clammy cheek in a dull slap that had your eyes rolling back in a fresh frisson of euphoria. "That's how a desperate little slut begs for my load."

Latent vestiges of his thick, musky arousal still clung to every shallow inhale, overpowering and intoxicating. You instinctively licked your lips to chase the rich, heady flavor even as he threaded his fingers back through your disheveled strands and hauled your head up off the surface with a merciless yank.

At some point, he'd sheathed his still-rigid cock from within your clenching, sloppy depths. The bloated, twisted length hovered mere inches from your slack features, dribbling thick ropes of pearlescent fluid from its bulbous crest onto your tongue as he aimed the final pumping contractions of his release.

"Open up," he growled, the words emerging strained and guttural as he fought the throes of orgasm shuddering through his muscular frame. "Gonna fill that pretty cocksleeve of yours with every fucking drop..."

The commanding rasp of his voice brooked no disobedience, not that you could have mustered anything resembling refusal at this point even if you'd wanted to. No, the taste of his briny, salty issue flooding your palate was the culmination of your most primal desires.

With a sob of pure, wanton bliss, you stretched your jaws wide and allowed Jay to guide his weeping length onto your tongue. You swallowed around the generous streams he pumped directly down your abused throat in reverent, subservient gulps, tears of rapture leaking freely down your ravaged features.

He grunted sharply with each protracted pulse, his balls drawing up tight and tight as he emptied his copious load straight into the succulent hollow of your mouth without mercy. Only once he had drained himself to the very last clinging drop did he withdraw, leaving you to lap and dribble like a bitch in heat at the lingering dregs.

"Messy fucking whore..." was all he seemed able to grind out, his voice sandpaper-rough but utterly sated.

This was not supposed to be this long but i guess m just so horny *-*

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