No time to linger on blessings and gods. More tentacles, fewer or none at all, Naoto was still Naoto. And she always seemed to have a new way to throw him off his game.
He slid past her lips and he shivered, a shot of pre-cum painting her tongue. He wasn't sure how he managed, but he thought better of letting the fish remain on the burner. A quick flick of the stove's knob later, and Kanji left things to residual heat, letting things gently finish while he felt himself feeling quite soundly the opposite.
She took him in so deeply and he could swear something felt... different. Yet as he swallowed, fought to wet his mouth again, he couldn't form much in the way of thought:
"Gonna come-" God, it was too much. He hadn't touched himself in far too long and the spontaneity had thrown him for a wide loop. His mind spun as he hung his head, gasps for breath broken into not-so-soft groans. They didn't use the kitchen enough for this, did they? How many times did he peek at her backside while she checked the contents of the crockpot in the oven, or saw just a couple inches of bared collarbone beneath a stray speck of flour on the cheek? He wondered if- not IF, but how often- she thought the same way...?
The lights popped behind his eyelids when that climax tore through him, his outcry higher, more breathless than usual, his hips jerking once as his grip went firm atop her head. His seed was thicker tonight, potent... poor boy was perhaps more than a little backed up as he neatly filled her mouth.
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Date: 2020-11-08 05:24 am (UTC)From:He slid past her lips and he shivered, a shot of pre-cum painting her tongue. He wasn't sure how he managed, but he thought better of letting the fish remain on the burner. A quick flick of the stove's knob later, and Kanji left things to residual heat, letting things gently finish while he felt himself feeling quite soundly the opposite.
She took him in so deeply and he could swear something felt... different. Yet as he swallowed, fought to wet his mouth again, he couldn't form much in the way of thought:
"Gonna come-" God, it was too much. He hadn't touched himself in far too long and the spontaneity had thrown him for a wide loop. His mind spun as he hung his head, gasps for breath broken into not-so-soft groans. They didn't use the kitchen enough for this, did they? How many times did he peek at her backside while she checked the contents of the crockpot in the oven, or saw just a couple inches of bared collarbone beneath a stray speck of flour on the cheek? He wondered if- not IF, but how often- she thought the same way...?
The lights popped behind his eyelids when that climax tore through him, his outcry higher, more breathless than usual, his hips jerking once as his grip went firm atop her head. His seed was thicker tonight, potent... poor boy was perhaps more than a little backed up as he neatly filled her mouth.