The days are getting longer and the weather is warming up. People have started to go out to their favorite bars and pubs again, with greater frequency and in greater numbers.
You are no exception. After a long week at work, sometimes it was nice to get out with friends and have a few drinks. This wouldn't typically be your choice of activity, but your friends just loved to sing in public. So, you went to karaoke night at your favorite spot. While you had no intention of getting on the stage and singing, yourself, you were more than happy to spend the time with your friends.
You also had no intention of getting plastered today, so you sipped your drink quietly. It was busy tonight. This karaoke DJ pulled a big crowd, so your friends had to wait longer than usual for their turns.
All the same to you. One thing about going out like this, too, was the people-watching. Your friends did okay with their songs, but they weren't going platinum any time soon. Some of these people must have been bad on purpose. There was no way nobody took them aside to tell them they sounded like a chorus of squeaky toys being slowly run over by a steamroller.
You all gather around your table, giggling about the latest entry to the stage. You were a couple drinks in, feeling pretty good, but not tipsy. Enough to relax a little bit.
"Wait. Are you smiling?" One of your friends leans over to squint at you. "In public? Be decent!" She's making fun of you.
"Okay okay okay," you say quickly, fanning your face and taking a deep breath. You put on the most on-purpose serious face that you can muster.
It has the desired effect, and your whole table erupts with laughter. Your serious expression cracks, and you grin, unable to stop, your friends' laugh infectious.
As the giggling starts to die down, you catch a glimpse of a man you've seen around before. He was very tall, and wore a black mask around his eyes. He always had a smile on his face, too, like he had not a care in the world. When you'd first seen him, you assumed that he was blind, but he moved around without a cane or a guide dog. He did occasionally have a friend with him, but that friend couldn't be more his opposite, in terms of outward appearance. Where his hair was wild and unruly, his friend was well-kept and neat. Where he wore casual attire, his friend always seemed to wear a suit of some kind.
You've thought about talking to one of them, but you're not sure how to approach. Your gaze lingers on the man with the mask, and you swear he looks in your direction as if he caught you staring. You keep your eye on him. He interested you. There was no way with that thing over his eyes that he could see you looking at him.
"Oh, look! Gojo's here!" Your friend leans heavily on you, draping her arm across your shoulders. "You gonna talk to him today, or just keep staring at him?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you and licked her lips, grinning like a madwoman.
You push her off of you. "Stop that." You playfully glare at her. You know she means well. You also know she had a point. For weeks now, you've seen him come in consistently on the weekends, and his frequency put him in your line of sight. "I'm just happy to watch, okay?" You try to explain to her, but she's already gone off to talk at an obnoxious volume with one of your other friends, who had their eye on another bar patron.
The drunken matchmaker. At least she never acted on her would-be pairings. That was a blessing.
Like clockwork, you heard the tune of 'I'm Too Sexy' coming through the speakers, and sure enough, the man with the mask leapt to the stage, microphone in-hand. Every. Single. Time. That he came to the bar for karaoke, he sang this song. Were it any other person trying this song, you'd roll your eyes and dismiss them as being either too drunk or too overconfident to pull it off.
But he made it art. Watching him perform it was a turn-on. He danced and moved along with the beat of the song, choreographed in just the right amount of sexiness, confidence, and cheesiness. You hated that you liked it so much, but even with your friends teasing you, you paid them no attention and simply watched.
It's like he knew.
In fact, this time, while you were watching, you noticed his movements were decidedly aimed in your general direction. You stop breathing for a second, your straw hovering between your lips and tongue, your eyes narrowing as you try and reason out if you were imagining it or not.
Your friend noticed it, too. You see her from the corner of your eye, her eyes wide and mouth in a big, surprised 'O.' But she didn't say anything to you, only patted your arm rapidly a few times and pointed at him, as if you weren't already watching.
The song ended, and he flashed a big, cocky grin. He hopped off the stage, and you could faintly hear the grumbling of his friend, sounding like he was embarrassed to be seen with him.
"Show's over," you sigh, swirling your drink lazily, the ice clinking against the side and bottom of the glass. Your drink's empty, too. It's time to switch to water anyway, you tell yourself. "I'll be back," you inform your table before rising to go to the bar.
You have to wait a while before a bartender notices you. You're not in any hurry to go back where the music was loudest. You've already seen the best part of the night. Now that you're switching to water, you take the time to relax and decompress.
You love your friends, and these outings, but you are starting to reach your limit. Crowds weren't your favorite thing, and you had been here for hours. You sit at the bar, sipping your water, enjoying the comparatively quiet space.
"Oh, chasing with water, eh? Smart!" You look up to see Gojo smiling at you. He leans down so he can speak to you. "I think your friends might be hung over tomorrow. I haven't seen them touch water all day."
You blink and stare at him in disbelief. "Bold of you to assume this is water," you say, unsure how to proceed.
"Huh?" He tilts his head, his smile shrinking just a bit. "Hmmm, let me see." He gently lifts the drink from your hand, then takes a sip out of your straw. A shock runs up your spine. Why did he just take that!? He gulps and gives a big, satisfied sigh. "Cold, refreshing ice water." He smirks at having proven himself right.
You're dumbfounded, not just because he guessed the drink correctly with a blindfold on, but because he had the gall to steal a drink without your permission. He offers your glass back to you, and you hesitantly reach out to take it. You look up at him, incredulous, then take a drink, staring at him the entire time, as if having another drink will somehow prove him wrong.
His grin widened. "Well, look at that. That was an indirect kiss, wasn't it?" His voice was low and smooth, but you got the distinct impression he was teasing you. You blush a little bit from his childish comment.
"Cute," you say curtly, taking another, longer pull of water. "Do all the girls fall for that line?" Your tone indicates minor annoyance, but your heart pounds. You liked that he was here, pestering you. You hoped your challenge didn't scare him off.
He chuckled. "Some of them," he admitted, "but not the ones worth talking about." He slid into a chair next to you. Apparently, you've caught his interest.
"Hmph," you snort, eyeballing him carefully. "And you're trying to tell me that I'm worth talking about?" Now your voice had a hint of smugness to it.
His grin was sly. "Oh, I don't know," he meandered, "I haven't decided yet if you've fallen for my line or not."
You bark a laugh a little too loud for your liking, and you cover your mouth. You then clear your throat and compose yourself. "You're not really selling yourself very well, you know," you lie to him.
He gasps and places a hand on his chest, scandalized. "Selling myself?" He made a big show of being offended. He then leaned in close, letting his voice drop. "I thought that's what I was doing on-stage."
You choke on your drink, then start coughing. "Bastard," you hiss at him.
He gave a smug chuckle. "So you did see me up there." He leaned a little further in, his shoulder now pressed to your shoulder. "How was it? Did you like it?"
You growl in the back of your throat. Damn it, he's good. Somehow, his actions and words repelled you and intrigued you. You go through your options: Do you want to break him and say that it sucked? Or do you want to lean into this little game he's playing?
You make your decision, then turn and speak into his ear, "It was the hottest thing I've ever seen." Your words drip with sarcasm, though they weren't entirely a lie. You suck in a breath between your teeth and sigh. "You got me wet just by watching you up there, big guy."
He pulls away from you and you back off, smirking at him, expecting to find him grossly offended or second-guessing himself. Instead, you find an even bigger smirk on his features. "Oh, I like you," he said, his voice low. "You're so adorable, I could take you home and eat you up."
You lift an eyebrow in question. "Don't make promises you can't keep." Your water has run out.
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't dream of it." He tilted his head and grinned. "It was a serious offer."
You stop and level a look at him. He'd dropped all pretenses. You didn't quite get your bearings quickly, the wind taken out of your sails at his direct approach. It forced images into your head that made your pulse climb and your breath hitch. Outwardly, all anyone could see was that you were apparently glaring at him.
He doesn't seem to notice that. His grin softened at your silence. He leaned forward again and slipped something under your glass. "Proof of my sincerity. I'm on the third floor." His voice was quiet, low and pleasing to your ears.
You scoff and sit up straight in your chair with your palms resting on the table in front of you. "You have guts," you admit. "I might just take you up on that." You give him one more piercing look, watching him for signs of hesitation or backpedaling.
You found none. He smiles genuinely, then rises from the table. "Before you do," he says in a teasing voice, then it switches to one of genuine concern. "Maybe call your friends a cab." He looks in the direction of where your friends were sitting in the karaoke room. "They're not going to be able to make a phone call, much less a walk."
"Uh, okay," you're a little taken aback by his worry for your friends. "I'll do that. By the way," you follow up by telling him your first name. He smiles and nods. "My name's Gojo Satoru. See you later." You watch as he turns and leaves, disappearing back into the crowd, waving as he goes.
You breathe a sigh of relief. Normally, a guy like him turns you off. Normally, his kind are trolling for ass, and you had a sneaking suspicion that in fact, he was just looking for a fling.
But it's his lucky day, because so are you. The cockiness that would normally have your expression twisted in disgust is now intriguing to you. Maybe it's because of the way he carried himself, or maybe it's because of the way his voice sounded, but something about Gojo really piqued your interest.
Either way, it looks like you're going to get to have a little fun today. You reach for your phone to call a taxi for your friends. While you're talking, you look at the object under your empty glass. Sure enough, it was a key card.
You chew on your lip, your eyes brightening from the beginnings of anticipation. You thank the dispatcher for sending the taxi, then hang up. The key card finds itself in your hands, and you leave a tip for the bartender on the table. You take a deep breath to gather your nerve so you can tell your friends that you're leaving, and that their ride is on its way.
Naturally, they knew what was going on, earning you secretive smirks and cajoling from your friends. You shut your eyes and smile, shaking your head at their nonsense. You say your goodbyes, then turn your attention to the key card Gojo left for you.
Hmm. Not a bad place to stay, you nod your head, relieved you weren't meeting in a roach motel, but a midscale place that will have, at least, bedding that doesn't smell of harsh chemicals.
/
You find yourself in the parking lot of the hotel Gojo told you he was staying at. In your hand, you have the key card he left for you, complete with the room number. He'd told you third floor, as though the three-digit number on the key card didn't make that clear. At least he tried to be helpful, you think, then look up to find your bearings.
It wasn't difficult to find the elevator. The rooms were arranged in a way that made sense, too. But of course, Gojo's room was at the furthest corner in the back of the hotel. Your mild annoyance starts to give way to anticipation, a tingle moving up your spine, spreading with every step that puts you on approach.
Room 322.
A small part of you panics a little bit. Once you knock on the door, your presence will be known. If you use the key card given to you and walk in, you may walk in on a scene. You were so excited to get here that your brain waited until just now to supply anxieties around meeting a near-stranger in his hotel room, alone.
Your hesitation froze you in place for a moment, but you heard the click of a lock, and the door opens slowly, Gojo's face peeking out in the crack in the door. He smiles knowingly, then opens the door the rest of the way.
You didn't hear his footsteps when he approached the door. Was he waiting by it? Or were you so preoccupied in your anxious thoughts that you didn't pay attention?
Whatever the case may be, seeing him standing in the doorway, holding the door open and gesturing for you to come in obliterated your concerns. You smirk back at him, allowing your anticipation to build up openly. Now that you're here, you may as well enjoy yourself.
The door clicks shut behind you. You scan the room for a place to set down your things and settle on the nearby end table. You look over your shoulder at Gojo, who was watching you carefully, that carefree smile showing hints of mischief. "I think I've decided. You've fallen for my line after all." His expression doesn't change from the small amount of insolence in his grin, his face angled slightly down, as though he were leveling a look at you.
You scoff, then chuckle, turning and taking a couple steps towards him. "Maybe I wanted to test your word," you countered, stopping just short of him, staring up at his face, a half-smirk on your lips.
Gojo chuckled smugly. His hand came up, his fingers gently cradling your chin, looking down on you in a way that sent a minor thrill through your system. "Oh, I intend to make good on that," he says, his voice soft, but full of promise. He leans down, his lips barely touching yours. "I'll let you make up your own mind, whether or not my 'word' is good." To punctuate his sentence, he touched the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip, a teasing, light gesture.
You bite back a whimper at this teasing contact, your eyes set in a wavering glare while you listen to his words. You refuse to take the bait, instead baring your teeth in a wicked grin. "Standing there, tonguing my lip will hardly get you where you need to go," you mock him, holding yourself back from leaning up on him, keeping your body away from his, showing remarkable restraint.
Gojo hums in thought, his face coming up just slightly, his weight shifting so he initiates contact, allowing his front to touch yours, though not with much pressure. He met your grin with his own. "I haven't begun to tongue your lips yet, my dear." His words and tone were deceptively playful. Images in your mind popped up of you raking your fingernails down his front, tearing his clothes off, forcing him to kneel in front of you. Your breath hitches, and you swallow your excitement, but he chuckles, that damnable knowing smirk making another appearance. "Why hold back? Don't be shy," his hands ghost up your sides, making you shiver. "There's no need for shame here."
You feel a growl well up in your throat, and the sound makes him chuckle again. His lips press to yours, still gentle, still teasing, but this time warmer and more firm. You meet his pressure, at once thrilled and annoyed at his intentional misunderstanding of your hesitation. You were stubborn, not shy. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, the tips of your fingernails digging lightly into the fabric of his shirt. You tilt your head and part your lips, pressing your tongue against his mouth, domineering and taking control, which earns you a rumble from Gojo, the first reaction you've seen or heard from him that wasn't arrogant.
You liked his slip in composure. His hands roam up and down your sides with decidedly more force than the feather-light touches he had used before. You slide your fingernails down his front, just like in your mental image from before, though you don't shred his clothing. Damn physics. You sigh, tasting Gojo when he slides his tongue against yours, deliberate and slow, meaning to outpace your fervency with his slow, intentional strokes. Your arms circle around his waist, reaching up and giving his back the same treatment as his front, your nails dragging down the fabric of his shirt.
At that, he groans and breaks off the kiss with you. When you look at him, you see his demeanor hadn't changed, that smile still present on his face. His lips part and he shows his teeth with an increasingly-sly smirk. "You seem eager," he observes, his voice taking on a somewhat gravelly quality. You narrow your eyes at him. Your fingers slide under his shirt, touching the skin on his back directly, this time letting the pads of your fingers play across his skin. He sighs from your touch, then eases back and away from you, gentle in his break from you, facing you as if he could see your expression.
You watch him carefully, waiting for what he has planned. The tension between you two cooled a little, and he gave you a secretive smile before turning and heading further into the hotel room. He disappears around a corner, and after a second, you follow him.
He really had disappeared. Around the corner was the kitchenette, and no doorways. He'd simply gone.
Still, you were skeptical. You stepped into the kitchenette to look around. Maybe he was hiding somewhere, or maybe there was a door you just didn't see. You'd checked around the half-sized fridge, when a hand placed itself on top of it beside you. You felt his presence, and confirmed his identity when he spoke. "Are you lost?" He spoke through a barely-contained chuckle.
How the fuck? You couldn't figure out how he managed to sneak past you, but he stood behind you and trapped you between him and the fridge. "Hmph," you snort at him, "You left me here. I thought I'd raid your food." You couldn't come up with a better excuse on the fly, why you didn't notice him slip past you.
"Are you hungry?" He asks, his lips hovering near your ear. The timbre of his voice sends a shiver through your body. He chuckles and appears not to have noticed. You feel him press his body against your back, his face resting against the side of your head by your ear. "Let's fix that." He nips at the side of your neck. Your eyes slide shut and you tilt your head away. He hums his approval, rewarding your submission by lingering, his lips and tongue soothing the spot where he bit you. His free hand squeezes your hip, then moves up across your belly, traveling slowly upward at a torturous pace. That, paired with his oral assault on your neck sufficiently distracted you from what the hand he had on the fridge was doing.
The fridge door closes, and the hand that was moving up your body disappears. Your eyes flutter open, and a distinct lack of warmth brings you back to your senses. You hear the sound of an aerosol can and turn in time to see Gojo with a can of whipped cream. He grinned at you, tossing the can in the air, smacking his lips as if he'd just had a big mouthful of the stuff. You stare at him in disbelief. Food play? Already? You're a little put off by how quickly he broke out that stuff, but decided to shrug it off and go with it. You let your smile spread across your face, your eyes narrowing. "I am feeling a little hungry, now that you mention it," you say, your voice both sultry and teasing. He pauses, his smile shrinking just a little, the can held poised to spray. You touch his face with your hand, cradling his cheek as if he were dear to you, though the smile you're giving him was purely predatory. You lean in, pausing just before you meet his lips. "How cliché," you speak through a chuckle, then dart your tongue out, catching some whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You pull back to look at him, and his smile had entirely disappeared, his body tense and muscles taut, as if holding himself back. The air around him shifted, and you could sense his intent, which only fed your confidence. You trace a finger down from the hollow in his throat, all the way down to the waistline of his jeans. You feel him flex against your touch. You can't stop the lewd little giggle that escapes your lips. "I'm not getting that sticky mess all over my clothes."
Gojo relaxes, despite your finger lingering just inside the waistband of his jeans. He reaches up and hooks his thumb under the mask on his face, pulling the fabric back slowly. Your face slackens. You didn't realize how much suspense you'd feel, watching him pull his mask off. You felt like you were watching something secret, and paid rapt attention, your eyes following his hand up to his face.
That secretive smile played across his lips before he peeled back the fabric, revealing some of the most brilliant, bright blue eyes you've ever seen. You're stunned into silence and inaction. He can see! He can see, holy shit, what have I been doing? Your brain berates you for staring at him and giving him looks that you swore he couldn't see. Was that mask one of those one-way fabrics where he could see out, even if you couldn't see in?
Part of you wanted to bolt. But that look he gave you, the smile on his face, somehow put your mind at ease. He hadn't been offended by your gawking, or your insolent little glares. He pulled the mask up and off, his hair laying down more now that the band wasn't holding it up. He looked so messy, so unkempt. You swallow hard, unsure how to proceed, now that you know he can see you, and has apparently been able to this whole time.
He continues, as though you weren't frozen like a deer in headlights. "Mmm. Are you offering to strip for me?" He smirked when you startled at his bluntness. That same bluntness made your blood run hot, and the thought of him watching you undress makes your fingertips tingle and your heart thrum in your chest.
You remember yourself, then snort at his comment, tossing your head slightly, pointing your chin at him. "You first."
Gojo smirked. "Sure." He set the whipped topping can and his blindfold on the counter, pulling back from you, your hand finally separating from Gojo's jeans. You'd forgotten you had your fingertips down his pants, and a light blush dusted your skin. He had his back to you when he started to pull off his shirt, going slow intentionally, making you wait to see every line of definition in his muscles. Your eyebrows came down and your lips set in a line, impatient to see more. He glanced over his shoulder at you and chuckled smugly. "Something wrong?" he asks upon seeing your expression.
You cross your arms over your chest and lower your face, leveling your stare directly at him. "I didn't tell you to strip you. I was telling you to strip me," you clarify for him, though you do wait until he discards his shirt before you tell him.
At your words, he laughs heartily. "I think you just made that up." Busted. Of course you'd just made that up. You were hoping to trip him up somehow, but the man is utterly unflappable.
Still, you smile at him, mischief plain on your features. "And if I did?"
He clicks his tongue and sighs, looking up at the ceiling as if in thought. "Hmmm. I think, then, I'd have to say, 'Good thinking on your feet!'" He grinned as if he were a teacher praising a student. You keep your smile, though your eyes slide halfway shut and the tips of your ears heat up. "I'd also say," he started to walk back towards you, grabbing his blindfold on the way, "that I'd be happy to oblige. But," he lowered his voice, then reached out for you to take his hand. After a long pause, you decide to take it, and he pulls you along to one of the beds in the middle of the main living room, "First, I want you to put this on." He holds up the blindfold, a catlike smile on his face.
You regard him coolly. First, food play, now blindfolds? Not shy at all, is he? Then again, you wouldn't be here if he was shy. You shrug. "I can do that." You reach out for the fabric, but he snatches his hand away.
"Ah-ah." He shook a finger at you and grinned. "I get to put this on you."
You puff a frustrated sigh, looking up at him through your eyelashes in a pout. You wordlessly acquiesce, gathering your hair and turning around, waiting.
The ambient sound around you shifts, and the inky black fabric lowers over your eyes. The world goes completely dark. The band tightens around your head and you hear the sound of a knot being tied and tightened. It was snug, but not painful, and no light filtered through. "Hang on," you can't stop yourself from asking, "did you put this on backwards?"
"Huh?" You hear his confusion. "How do you mean, 'backwards'?"
"I mean, I can't see."
He chuckles. "Well, it is a blindfold."
"Yeah, but," you start, touching around the front of the mask, looking for a mesh of some kind. "Isn't this one of those one-way masks?"
He laughed aloud at your comments. "No, no. Nothing like that. Just a normal blindfold." He leaves it at that, offering no other explanation. You pause, then take in a breath, ready to ask a followup question, but then you feel his hands, gentle and exploratory, touching around your waist and hips, his fingertips touching your bare skin where the fabric separates. Your questions die in your throat, and you sigh instead, feeling shocks go through your body from where he touches your skin. You can hear the sound of his lips pulling back over his teeth in a smile. "You got quiet all of the sudden," he purrs to you, his hands getting bolder, resuming their travels from earlier, his fingertips touching the bare skin on your belly when his hand slides under your shirt.
You bite your lower lip, muffling a whimper. His touch electrifies you, and though his exploration stops just before your bustline, you're already feeling compliant. You shiver when his hands hover, drawing little patterns with his fingertips over your ribs. You lean back against him, wanting more contact, and since his hands were stubborn, you opted for bodily contact. You feel him shake with a chuckle. "Don't tell me you plan to hold back, now." He eases your shirt up slowly, giving you time to resist. You don't. Your arms move up so he can remove the garment unimpeded. When he gets your shirt up to your hands he pauses, wraps them together and gently pulls them down, your hands now bound and tugged behind your head. You can't help smirking, and though now blindfolded, you look over your shoulder at him anyway, letting him see your expression.
"It's like that, is it?" You sound amused, though you're beginning to feel excitement build within you.
"It's like that." Gojo answers, his voice a little more heated upon seeing you this way, hands bound and eyes covered. He pulls you back against him again, his bare chest pressed to your bare back, his hands roaming your abdomen freely. One of his hands cups and squeezes one of your breasts, earning him a sharp intake of breath from you. He growls lowly near your ear. "You went out in public without a bra on?" He tsk-ed you in playful reprimand. "So indecent." He pinched your nipple, making you yelp and squirm against him. He hums and runs his tongue from the crook of your neck to the spot behind your ear. "Let's get you more comfortable."
He pulls back from you, his hand gliding from your abdomen to your lower back, squeezing your waist on its way. You allow him to guide you, though your steps are short and unsure. Wouldn't it be just lovely if you tripped and fell while bound this way?
Gojo situates you so you can feel the edge of the bed against the back of your knees. "Sit," he says, his word an offering, but his tone a command. Your body responds before you process, and you sit on the edge of the bed. "Good girl," his voice is almost a hiss and sends bolts of adrenaline through your limbs. "Now, lie back," he instructs you. You go to turn so you can lie flat on the mattress, but he stops you. "Nah-ah. Hold on. I said, 'lie back,' not 'lie down.'" You feel his fingers splay out over your chest, just under your collarbone. You lift your hands up so when you lie backward, you don't hurt yourself. You feel some tugging at your wrists, more sounds of knots being tied, and before you knew it, your hands were secured to something at the edge of the bed, keeping you held in place. "Don't worry," Gojo says with sincerity. "These knots are easy to undo. You let me know if you need me to untie you, okay?"
You hesitate for a moment, then nod. You were grateful he stopped to make that clear. Tying down someone you hardly know isn't something to be done flippantly. Even so, you liked where this was going.
You weren't sure why you felt the need or inclination to be obedient to Gojo, but you were having a good time. A moment passes, and you can't hear or feel anything. For a second, you think maybe he left you alone, even though you didn't hear footsteps. You strain to hear, beginning to feel foolish, lying half-naked on a hotel bed, your host leaving you like this. Your brow furrows in concern. Maybe this was a mistake? Maybe he's getting ready to take pictures of you?
The thought of Gojo photographing you sends a jolt straight to your cunt. Wait, I like that idea? You squirm a little on the bed. A low hiss fills your ears, and something cold splashes across your chest. You gasp and arch your back at the unexpected sensation. Gojo snickers. "Mmm." You feel the mattress dip on either side of you, Gojo leaning over you and planting his hands beside you. He hovers for a moment, and you imagine him leering down at you hungrily. Your pulse elevates, your breath hitches, and you hold perfectly still, waiting for what's next.
A warm tongue trails up from your belly button, over to one breast, licking what was likely that whipped topping from before. His strokes are slow and thorough, and he makes low, pleasing hums and moans, making a show of appreciating the taste. "That's nice and sweet," he whispers, dipping his head down, bathing your breasts with his tongue, methodical in the way he lapped up every drop of the dessert topping from your body.
You whimper and squirm under him. The feeling of his tongue and lips on your skin was heavenly. You wanted more, and the fact that you couldn't see and predict what he was doing amplified your sensitivity to his touch.
"... always leaving me at that damn bar. Damn slacker," you hear a grumpy voice, followed by a closing door. You freeze up, panic starting to rise in your throat. As if Gojo didn't even hear the voice, he kept on going. The voice continued, along with rustling and more grumbling. You held your breath and tried to keep from making any sounds or movements. You feel Gojo grin against your skin, then feel as his teeth sink in, abusing your nipple with decided force. You can't help the yelp that is torn from your throat in response, followed by you shrieking his name, scandalized, shocked, and afraid of being seen like this by whoever just entered the room.
"Nanami," you hear Gojo greet the man who entered the room who had ceased all movement upon hearing your voice. "You're right on time." After he speaks, the flat of his tongue massages the nipple he so roughly bit a second ago, as if he were soothing it. You exhale sharply, then struggle, trying to twist away from the source of the voice. Gojo keeps you still, but mercifully, he blocks the other man's view by sitting on the bed beside you.
All you can do is listen, and the man wouldn't speak for a few seconds. You couldn't tell if he was openly staring, or if he was hiding his face, or if he was glaring at Gojo. But he sighed, as if he was unsurprised. "It's customary to leave a sock on the door." He sounded tired, like he'd been through this before. You start to relax a little bit. At least you didn't embarrass the guy who just showed up. That made you feel a little better.
Gojo spoke through a laugh. "Why would I do that?" His voice dropped a little, the mirth in his words clear. "I was hoping you'd join us."
You could hear Nanami grunt in the back of his throat, as if fighting the words. You, yourself choke a little bit at the suggestion of a three-way with Gojo and his... friend? Your mind supplies the image of the neatly-dressed, well-kept man in armless sunglasses that occasionally accompanies Gojo to the bar. You remember a voice like his reprimanding Gojo after his performance.
An instant later, your mind shows you images of both men with their mouths on you in varying places. A shudder goes through your body, and you feel Gojo's hand rest on your knee, as though reassuring you. Your thighs squeeze together, and you squirm slightly, trying to fend off the mental images. You could feel both men looking at you, which only served to raise your desires.
You were surprised by your reaction. Gojo squeezes your knee and you sigh, relaxing into the mattress, waiting.
A moment passes. Gojo's hand lazily travels up and down your thigh, waiting for Nanami's answer. Before you hear any other words, you hear the sound of buttons being undone on a suit jacket, then a resigned sigh. "She appears willing," he observes, seeing the way you react to Gojo's lazy ministrations and your lack of struggle upon him being in the same room, where you lie half-naked and somewhat sticky from the food play you'd just had. "Am I correct?" He addresses you directly while, you think, you hear him untying his tie.
You imagine Nanami with his suit coat open and his tie sloppily undone, and your face heats up. You bite your tongue and take a deep breath. "Yes," comes out of your mouth in a much breathier way than you intended. You feel Gojo's fingers curl slightly around your thigh at your answer and it feeds your courage. Your fingers grasp for the edge of the bed, or the anchor which you were tied to, stroking whatever happened to be in reach so Nanami could see you weren't struggling to get away.
You hear another grunt from Nanami and hear the sound of a long strip of fabric sliding. Your brain shows you Nanami pulling his tie off with a flourish you're certain he didn't do. "Yes. You look willing," he observes, and you realize you have a small, revealing smirk on your lips. Fingertips brush against your knee opposite of Gojo, hands whose touch are slightly different. This wasn't the deliberate, careful touch Gojo was using to tease you. This was decisive. The mattress dips again beside you and you hear Nanami's voice close to your ear. "If Gojo's tricked you into this and you need out, just kick him," he says. "There's no need to be subtle. He's an idiot."
"Hey!" Gojo sounds like he's pouting. It sounded mean, but you get the sense that this pair have known each other for long enough that these sorts of insults were commonplace and near-affectionate. You turn your face towards Nanami, that smile still on your lips.
"If he wants me to kick him, he'll have to untie me first," your voice is low and sultry. You lift one of your knees and brush it against Gojo's arm and back, your grin widening. "But I like the way he was licking me a second ago," you push you lower lip out and frown, "before you came in and interrupted."
"Oh?" Nanami's voice dropped a little. "And if I want to untie you and make you kick him?"
"Hmm," you make a show of thinking, looking up and away from Nanami and inadvertently towards Gojo. "I don't know. His tongue speaks for itself. What have you done for me, Nanami?" His name pours off of your tongue as you look back towards him with an insolent, challenging smile.
You could feel your words affecting Nanami, the energy of the room shifting with the idea that Gojo had gotten the better of him before he'd even started. Nanami's fingers on your knee traveled upwards, over the top of your thigh and across your belly. "Such a sloppy job Gojo has done," he reprimands the other man, his fingers running through a thin layer of sticky film on your bustline. "I don't make a habit out of cleaning up after grown men," he says, a single fingertip drawing a slow, torturous line up your cleavage, towards the hollow in your throat. You tip your head back, your smile disappearing as Nanami's hand draws that line up your torso. He brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek and you feel his breath on your face. "Mm. You're a submissive?"
Gojo replied with a snort and a chuckle. "Is that what you see?" He rises off the mattress and you feel his hands slide down from your knees to your shins, as though he knelt in front of you. He made short work of removing your shoes for you, and set them aside. He spoke while he worked. "I think there's more to her than that."
Nanami exhales slowly, his lips hovering just over the crook of your neck. "We'll see," he notes, touching his tongue to the delicate skin on your neck. You hum appreciatively, but halfway through the sound, your voice becomes strangled and high, another yelp drawn from you when Nanami pinches and rolls the nipple opposite of where Gojo had bitten you. The dichotomy of the two actions, one gentle and one barbaric, elicited from you a growl that rumbled at the back of your throat. You felt Nanami smirk against your neck. "Mmm. Perhaps you're right about her," he sounds approving.
Gojo was smug. "Told ya." You were distracted by Nanami and have suddenly become very aware of Gojo's presence, his abdomen between your thighs. He'd stood up on his knees, his hands holding your hips. "By the way, I assume," his hands trace from your hips along the waist band of your jeans, to the button in the middle, "that you still want me to strip you?" He plays idly with the button and the zipper, making no further movements to undo either until he hears from you.
Nanami's touch became gentle, his broad palm resting over your breast, gently kneading it, taking care of you after his brutality. You take in a shaking breath, then nod. "Y-yes," you say, your voice meek.
"Hmm? Sorry, I didn't hear you," Gojo says, his voice teasing and aloof. "Would you speak up?" He traced the edge of your jeans some more, letting his fingertips touch your skin just above the clothes.
"Yes, please, tell the man kneeling between your legs whether or not you want him to strip you naked and have his way with you," Nanami says, his voice heated and blunt. He was so careless with his words, but they had the desired effect. You felt your blood surge.
You squeeze Gojo's body between your legs, earning you a chuckle from him. You try to pull him closer, but the way you were situated on the mattress made that impossible, which made you whimper from your mounting frustration. "What are you waiting for?" Both men had paused to await your answer. "Ugh!" You shout. "Just do it already! This is your invitation, gentlemen, you better take me up on it!"
Another pause. You appear to have stunned them with how forthright you've suddenly become. You're about to demand that they get started, but Nanami silences you with a kiss, pressing his lips down on yours. You're not sure why, but you're surprised and take a moment before you respond to him. You hum into the kiss, and he answers with his own groan of appreciation. Your attention is split when Gojo deftly works your pants button and zipper without wrenching the fabric. He makes the interesting choice to tug at your pant legs from the ankle instead of trying to peel them off of you from your hips.
It was much more efficient. You lie in nothing but your panties, tied to the bed, Nanami lying at your side and distracting you with his gentle touches and his expert tongue stroking against your own tongue and lips. You felt sparks shoot up your arms and legs when Gojo slid his palms up your calves, up to the backs of your knees, before moving to rest on top of your thighs. You tilt your head back, breaking your kiss with Nanami, who moved to plant kisses down your jaw and throat, somehow finding the most sensitive spots to touch.
You feel warmth press against your inner thigh, then hear Gojo groan, though muffled, and feel the vibrations rolling from him into you, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. Finally! You were getting tired of being teased. Instinctively, your thighs spread, giving Gojo better access. Your knee presses against Nanami, whose hand comes down from your breast and hooks in behind your knee, holding it in place. "You're eager." He almost sounds like he's reprimanding you, though his tone belies his actions, the fingers curled under your knee stroking the sensitive skin. You didn't realize with that sort of pressure that a harmless touch to the back of your knee could feel so nice. You sigh, a contented sound, your body relaxing. If he's got hold of your leg, you don't need to keep it up.
Teeth graze up the inside of your leg, a warm, wet tongue trailing behind. Gojo's hand glides up the back of your opposite thigh, where Nanami held your leg up, though his touch was much less innocent. He lingered at the crease where your thigh meets your butt and traced a fingertip along that fault. He stopped when he got to the edge of your panties, then did it again, the same motion, amplifying your sensitivity. You shudder and feel your core flex. You think you hear a chuckle, then Gojo nips at the fabric, purposefully and gently biting your flesh through it.
You jerk in Nanami's hold, who also chuckles at your response. "Good girl. Fight him," he egged you on, though he leans his head down and envelops one of your nipples between his teeth, lazily rolling his tongue against it. You squirm and keen, your whole body heating up. Nanami's gentle attention steadily became more passionate, the slow caress of his tongue building to a more fervent pace. As if planned, Gojo's attention turned gentler. He tugged at your panties with his teeth until he got them off of you, using his hands to first break Nanami's hold on your knee, then slide them down and off your body.
Nanami, his hand now free, reached down while Gojo was distracted and slipped his middle finger between your folds, sliding his finger against your slit. You whine from the contact and he moans against your chest, no doubt feeling how wet you've gotten already. Gojo, undeterred, must have maneuvered himself around Nanami, because you felt his hair brush against your hip and belly before you felt his tongue make direct contact with your clit.
Your brain short-circuits. The second Gojo's tongue hits, Nanami's finger buries itself into your core. You buck against them both, surprised by how sensitive you'd become in such a short time. You fight your instincts, trying to squeeze your legs together, but forcing them to stay apart, this blissful assault propelling you into fits of panting and lewd moaning.
You were so busy weathering that assault that it took you a moment to realize another sound was coming from Nanami. He growled against your chest, and you felt him turn his lower body to lie flat, though his upper body remained twisted so he could keep finger-fucking you. Though it was only one finger, the way he used it was perfect. His finger pad slid along your front wall, toying with the spongy bundle of flesh and nerves just inside of you. You think you're about to figure out what's going on with Nanami, until Gojo closed his lips around your clit and sucked on it mercilessly. Your body tenses and freezes. Your shameless panting echoes through the room. Euphoria takes you over as you cum hard, your body thrashing about. You can't make out what came out of your mouth, but to you it sounded like unintelligible screaming.
Nanami withdraws his finger and hand from you, now wet with your juices. Gojo shifts to kneel between your legs, but he kept his mouth on your cunt the entire time. His clit-sucking stopped in favor of long, languid strokes of his tongue, from your dripping opening, back up to your clit, then back down again. Your brain is fuzzy, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop. Your whimpering becomes slightly pained, the overstimulation sending a different kind of shock through your system.
There's a shaking of the bed, and you hear Nanami grunt and sigh. The sound you're hearing sounds like skin sliding on skin, and a light, rhythmic, slapping sound accompanying it.
You feel Gojo's body move in time with the sounds. Then you hear Nanami give a low groan, then shift on the bed beside you. Your breath catches in your throat as mental images of Gojo jerking Nanami's cock while he's thoroughly licking your cunt invade your mind. You try and move your head, desperate to see through even a slight crack from under the blindfold to sneak a peek at what was going on.
You feel Gojo laugh, his breath tickling your overused flesh. He moves away from you, giving your aching cunt a quick break.
There's a rustling, then a dip in the mattress next to you, on the same side as Nanami. You strain to listen, hearing every hitch in Nanami's breath, every sloppy, wet slurp you hear forcing you to imagine Gojo knelt between Nanami's legs, sucking his cock with much the same fervor that he was licking your slit. Nanami sighs audibly, and you grit your teeth, rubbing your slickened thighs together. Nanami jerks next to you and inhales a sharp, quick breath. "Gojo...!" His voice was tense, strained, and Nanami's breath ceased for a long moment. You could feel him shudder next to you, as though every muscle in his body was tensed. Then he released that breath, panting raggedly into the open air. "Fuck, Gojo," he cursed, "my balls can only take so much sucking."
You snarl in frustration, unable to get a peek at all. Damn Gojo and his well-made blindfold. You start to rub your face on whatever is nearby, including your own shoulder, trying to dislodge the fabric, even if only a little bit.
You hear Gojo make a sound that was like a sigh, but aggressive, nearly a growl, but not quite. "Looks like our guest is frustrated," he observes.
Nanami, still panting, must have looked over at you. "She's frustrated?" He snorts. "At least she came. I'll bet she wants to watch, the little sl-unnnngh..." He's interrupted by Gojo, whose groan was muffled by Nanami's flesh. You hear a wet smack as he lets go of whatever it was he was sucking, and he must have been grinning, based on how bright his voice sounded.
"She's a pervert," Gojo tosses out casually, reaching over absentmindedly and splaying his hand across your belly. You flex under his touch, which makes him give a smug sound. "Isn't that right? You're a pervert, and you want to watch me suck Nanami's cock, don't you?" You nod, not trusting your voice. Gojo rises from his kneeling position, and you can imagine him smirking down on both of you. "Maybe I should untie you, too, hmmm?" He slides his finger under the blindfold, running his fingertip along the edge of the fabric without taking it off of you. "Whaddya say? We can do so much more if you're free to move."
Your jaw moves to speak, but you can't make the words go. You nod again, more enthusiastically this time. You grasped for the knot your hands were tied with in an attempt to hurry your freedom along. Light blinds you when the cloth over your eyes is taken away. Everything was as you had pictured it in your head: Gojo, shirtless, smirking down at you. Nanami, recovering from Gojo's earlier assault, his suit jacket open and pants pushed down around his thighs in a haphazard attempt, likely by Gojo, to hurry and pleasure his friend.
You have trouble getting your hands free. Gojo watches you intently. He said it would be easy to undo. He didn't say it would be easy for you to undo it. While his attention is on you, and he stands at the edge of the bed in direct line of sight with you, Nanami stands up. He carefully removes his pants and folds them before placing them on a nearby table. He removes his suit jacket, then repeats the action with his shirt. You've given up trying to untie yourself and attempt to stare Gojo down, willing him to untie you without saying the words out loud. He simply stares back, seeming disinterested in reading your intent. It's like he was ogling you, but he seemed almost bored. You worry your lip between your teeth, insecurity creeping in.
Without warning, Gojo pitches forward. He catches himself before falling on you, his hands once again at the sides of the mattress beside you. He had nestled between your legs, but shortly after he fell on you, a second force pushed him even harder against you. Nanami, now naked, pressed behind Gojo and had pushed him down. You had a sneaking suspicion that Gojo expected this, based on the mischievous grin he wore.
The pressure against your core was rhythmic. Nanami rutted against Gojo and in turn made Gojo grind against you. Your breath caught in your throat from the pleasure that hummed through your body. Gojo bowed his head and moved in time with Nanami, who had his hands on Gojo's sides. "This won't work if you're wearing pants," he stated the obvious and reprimanded Gojo for being the only one still wearing anything.
Gojo's panting was shallow, but you saw his face start to show how you and Nanami affected him, his gaze unfocused. "Right." He reached to undo his pants, but his hands were intercepted by Nanami's. He twisted Gojo's hands both around his back in a sort of soft submission hold. That forced Gojo to stand up straight, his expression one of mild shock. It appeared as if Nanami held Gojo's wrists behind his back with one hand, his other coming around and touching your hip, his fingertips dragging against your skin, moving to the center and back. His palm cupped Gojo's groin for a long moment, then resumed its travels up Gojo's abdomen. It traced the line from his belly button, straight up the middle, over his chest, until his hand cradled Gojo's lower jaw delicately. You see Gojo's jaw slacken and head tilt up a little. You also see Nanami with the first expression beyond boredom you've seen, frankly, ever. He had a small, but wicked smile on his lips when Gojo submitted to his hold and his touch.
"What's wrong, Saturo? No snappy comebacks?" You see his face disappear behind Gojo's head, which was guided to look down directly at you. His eyes were hazy and half-lidded. His lips were parted. When Nanami spoke, Gojo's brows came together and his jaw clenched. "Look at that girl, Satoru. Look at the mess you made." You catch Gojo's eyes flick down to your crotch, soaked and used, before he looks back at your face again, his tongue darting out against his lips. Nanami's voice sounds disapproving. "You finish cleaning her up. Now." Just like that, Gojo was pitched forward again, his face level with your tits. You blush a deep red from your hairline to your toes at the watchful gaze of both men. You flinch when Gojo falls on you again, though this time much more controlled, guided by Nanami's hands. He held the back of Gojo's head, keeping him in place for a moment until he's satisfied he will stay.
Long, thorough strokes of Gojo's tongue played against your skin. You shiver from the contact and arch your back, pressing your breasts into his face, hoping he would bite you again. He doesn't do that, apparently intent on following what Nanami had told him to do. Every inch of the front of your torso was touched by the flat of Gojo's tongue, which expertly cleaned the rest of the whipped topping residue from your skin. You squeezed one eye shut and struggled not to excessively whimper, though a few tiny moans escape your lips, especially when you see what Nanami does while Gojo is laving you with his tongue.
Nanami held Gojo's hips and rocked against him. You can't see anything with Gojo so close and blocking the view, but the sensations of slow, rhythmic pressing against your core signal that either Nanami was pushing Gojo some more, or that Gojo was so turned on by what was happening, he was grinding against you on his own. You were fine with either. But you still craved that bite, the same kind from earlier that announced your presence to a grouchy Nanami moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, and take a few breaths, gathering your wits and your will before you speak. "Bite me."
Gojo didn't hesitate. The second you made the demand, his teeth gently nipped your skin. How thoroughly unsatisfying, though a spark did shoot through you at the contact. Your sigh is needy and impatient. "Harder..!"
You hear Nanami bite back a chuckle, right before Gojo sinks his teeth into you. Pain and adrenaline rampaged through your system. You went rigid, yelping, then screaming as his bite lingered on the spot. You thrash under Gojo, and you hear and feel him breathe raggedly, then groan, a heated sound that seemed very unlike the immature smartass you've known up to now.
The weight on top of you shifts and presses you into the mattress. Gojo lets you go and exhales harshly, forced to move his head up beside yours. Nanami had leaned forward and reached up to undo the knot tying your hands, making quick work of it with just one hand. He then pressed his palms to the mattress on either side of you. He rolled his body against you both, while you were occupied with freeing your hands from the loose bindings. Gojo responded, pressing back against Nanami, then decisively rutting against you. You bite your tongue and gulp, the roughness of Gojo's pants starting to chafe a little. You put the thought aside, your newly-freed hands flying to grab a fistful of Gojo's hair and pull him back. He makes eye contact with you, his expression lustful and hungry. You bring him down to a hot, sloppy, needy kiss, mewling against his lips. Your other hand moves past him and grips Nanami's biceps, squeezing them to encourage him to continue.
Nanami grunted in effort and pushed himself up off of Gojo. When he pulled away, Gojo broke off the kiss with you and pulled back, also standing from the bed.
Now, unbound and unpinned, you sit up on the mattress and look at both men for a moment. You hadn't gotten to fully appreciate the look of either of them this whole time. Your leering gaze catches their attention, and Gojo, his superior smirk returning to his face, turns his back on you. You hear him unzip his pants, then watch as he makes a show of discarding them, kicking them out of the way haphazardly.
Both men were surprisingly built for the way they looked with their clothes on. They were lithe and muscular, though Nanami was a little more buff. You watch in wonder as Gojo reaches for his mask and starts to put it back on. It makes you remember all the sensations that you felt and all the sounds that you heard while you were wearing it. You bare your teeth and squirm, pressing your butt against the mattress and your thighs together. Similarly, Nanami kept his glasses on. This was really doing it for you.
Nanami moves while Gojo ties his blindfold, sitting on the bed beside you, then lying on his back, much in the same way you had been, legs over the side of the mattress and feet on the floor. He reaches out and offers his hand to you. You take in the view, from the scowl on his face that must be permanent, to his cock, fully hard and laid against his abdomen, not quite making it up to his navel. You don't take Nanami's hand, but you do swing your leg over him and straddle his hips. His hard length presses along your slit, which makes you gasp and tip your head up. Large, warm hands run up your sides, then down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You look down to see Nanami watching your face, and when your eyes open, he flexes his hips and rubs his cock against you. You clench your teeth and keen, rocking your hips against him, your slick core easily sliding over his flesh.
His hands move back down your sides and caress your thighs and ass while you two grind together. His mouth is slightly open, a show of how turned on he is, despite his resting bitch face.
Something touches along the length of your spine, from the top of your ass crack to the back of your neck. Gojo's breath puffs against your skin, and you feel your core clench at the sensation. You run your tongue against the edge of your teeth and feel his hands move to caress your back and sides. He says nothing, but kneels beside you, nestling his cock between your ass cheeks and joining once more in the grinding. You can't keep yourself from the lewd moan that slips from you. Your anticipation has built to a fever pitch, and you feel yourself ache for both of them to be inside of you.
It must have been written all over your face, because Nanami shifts his hold on your thighs and lets his cock slip between your folds. He hisses when the tip of him finds your entrance, nudges against it, then slips away. You exhale a near-silent whimper when he presses against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through you. You tilt your hips so his second pass would be more successful, which lines you up with Gojo's cock, pressed against your asshole and, apparently, quite generously lubed up.
Here at the precipice, sandwiched between them, your anticipation is at its peak and bordering on panic. Nanami's hands held your waist and his eyes watched your face, reading you. Gojo nuzzled his face against your shoulder, pressing gentle, warm kisses against your skin in an attempt to soothe your anxiety.
White-hot pleasure rips through you as you feel both men press steadily against you. You gasp and shudder, adjusting the angle of your hips to better accommodate. Nanami's thumbs brush against your nipples, and you moan, your eyes shut and brows creased. Gojo started to lich and nip at your shoulder, his attention becoming more intense as you take in his cock, little by little, inch by inch.
You settle down onto Nanami's lap, his cock fully seated inside of you. Gojo follows, though he takes a bit longer due to your minor pain reactions to him slipping into your ass. His hands came around you to cup your breasts, his chest pressed to your back and his face pressed to the side of your head. You shiver and squirm, the intensity of the feeling of being pierced from both entrances all by itself enough to make you want to cum. You were sensitive all over already, but you needed more.
Neither man made any moves, save for their hands, caressing and squeezing, patiently waiting for you to get used to your situation. You could feel every little movement, hear every breath, sense their need. You start to move, slowly at first, testing the waters. Gojo hisses and kneads your tits. Nanami growls and drags his fingernails against your thighs. You cry out, though it is fairly quiet, each nudge and stroke feeling like double the pleasure you've ever had from single-entry sex.
You lean forward to be on your hands and knees, opening yourself more fully for them to move. You're eye to eye with Nanami, whose gaze was hooded, his brow in a line of concentration. He grips your hips and gives a full, hard stroke, his hips impacting yours hard and jostling you. You yelp and brace yourself, and certain enough, Gojo reacts with similar force. You shout again, head thrown back and spine curling. You feel Gojo's fingernails drag down your back, his hands settling on your waist, your breasts out of practical reach with your move forward.
They begin to drive into you, each stroke opposite the other. You can't keep your eyes open, your mouth now held open, shamelessly panting, whining, whimpering. Nanami leans up and nips at your tits, though he, too is unable to keep his mouth closed, even over your skin, for need of breath. His breathing is an even pace, but a ragged quality, not so much as a groan coming from him.
You yelp harshly, a loud smack ringing through the air. Gojo's hand came down on your ass cheek, and the sting makes you jerk. A few seconds pass, and it happens again, on the same side, the sting turning to a burn. Though your mouth hangs open, now your lips are pulled back, as if snarling from the sensation. A third strike comes from Gojo, earning him a full-blown outcry from you, followed by his palm rubbing the sore skin, a low, breathless chuckle coming from him. "Good girl," he praises you, pressing open-mouthed kisses full of teeth against your shoulder.
He pulls free from you, leaving your ass open. Nanami grinds up into you harshly, then lifts you off of him. "Turn around," he orders you, and you're compelled to obey. You switch around, feeling somehow cold from the sudden removal of both cocks from your body. You feel Nanami's hand guide you, his other pushing his cock down so he could line up with your asshole. Gojo discretely cleans himself with a wet wipe, apparently aware of the health risks of ass-to-vag. It takes you out of the moment for a second, but Nanami's cock pressing against your ring brought you right back in. You whimper as Nanami slides into you, seeming to have an easy time about it. You shudder pleasantly.
Gojo returns and smiles, his superior attitude having returned now that Nanami was no longer in control of him. He didn't immediately sink back into you, but he did lunge forward and kiss you, a passionate, deliberate maneuver, his hands holding the sides of your face, his torso pressed flush with yours. Your moans were muffled for a moment, then you feel him pushing you backwards, lying you down on Nanami, your back pressed to his chest. "Mmm. Better," he observed, crawling over to cover your body with his, nestling himself between your legs and Nanami's. He reaches between you and rubs the head of his cock all up and down your slit, making a point to brush himself against Nanami's balls, too. For the first time since you started fucking, Nanami groans, a short-lived, low tone that reverberates through your bones. Nanami's hands hold your hips so you stay in place while Gojo presses himself into you. He watches you from under his mask, his smile melting as your warmth envelops him all over again.
Your body is wracked with waves of pleasure, both men resuming their pace from before. Nanami's face is pressed against your hair, his breathing much less even now, and laced with those small, short groans. Gojo's attention is on every bit of your skin from your collarbone to your bustline, leaving a smattering of kisses, licks, and bites with increasing fervor. This new angle made them hit new spots within you, and you start to shake with increasing violence. Your cries are hoarse, twisted, strangled, a symphony of lewd and tortured sounds issued from your throat.
They were unrelenting, spurred on by your cries. Nanami's hold began to bruise your hips. Gojo gave up biting you, now lying his head on your shoulder, his mouth hanging open as he breathes, also a mix of groans and growls. Nanami grinds his words out between his teeth and into your ear. "I'm going to cum. Do you want it in you or on you?"
Your brain is completely fuzzy, and you didn't want them to leave you just yet. You wanted to feel both of their cocks pulsing inside of you. You wanted to feel their bodies thrash and shudder around you. You wanted to hear their orgasmic vocalizations up close and personal. All of these things you want, but you can only manage two words. "In me..!" Your tone was broken and desperate, your body still in the throes of climactic aftershocks, drawn out by the punishing thrusting and grinding both men were giving you.
Nanami rumbles approvingly. His movements become more forceful and more erratic. Gojo's strokes become shorter, quicker, and much harder, grinding against you with one thing in mind. He needed to cum. A sharp pain blooms over your shoulder when Nanami bites down, renewing your cries. Gojo buried his head against the crook of your neck and clutched you against him.
Nanami's entire body stiffens and he drives himself into you, shoving his cock as far into you as it'd reach. He shuddered when he came, though no other sound besides his ragged breath came from his lips.
Gojo lasted a bit longer, feverishly grinding into you, groaning openly when he came, his body convulsing in time with the pulsing of his cock inside of you.
You whimper pitifully when both men finally stop moving, feeling thoroughly used and satisfied, the whole world a swirl of dull pleasure. You're warm and tingling all over, basking in the afterglow.
Gojo has to move first. He gently moves himself off of you, his weight and his warmth instantly missed by you. Still, you sigh, satisfied, even as fluids trickle down from your cunt.
You move next, carefully extricating yourself from Nanami, who was unlucky enough to catch all of the shared fluids that spilled out of you, onto his lap.
He definitely didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was quick to stand and make a move for the wash room, where he would promptly clean himself up.
You blink slowly, your senses still dulled from the experience. Gojo grins and offers you a wet wipe. "He's efficient. But he's not polite." He explains why Nanami was so quick to be first to go clean up.
You smirk tiredly. "He did catch all of it after we were done," you can't help chuckling, gesturing broadly over your own lap, indicating the wide area of splash Nanami had experienced.
Gojo hummed and tapped his chin. "Guess I can't blame him, then." He shrugged helplessly.
You sigh, accepting his wet wipe with gratitude and give yourself a cursory wipe down until the wash room became available.
Your trip home that day was hardly the walk of shame. You held your head high, thrilled to have had the experience. Even your friends' hangovers and incessant questioning the next day couldn't spoil your mood.
