[ If only Kaoru could have untied them as well. Kojiro's too thoroughly distracted to be disappointed over the missed opportunities, though. The second Kaoru's ass is free -- briefs or no -- Kojiro's hands are on it.
Kaoru's backside is like a holy grail, and it needs to be revered accordingly. There's not enough time, not enough hours in the day, for Kojiro to extoll its many virtues. He could spend every waking moment like this -- hands cradling, then squeezing, then slipping beneath the waistline of Kaoru's briefs -- and it would still never be enough. He eases Kaoru's briefs away, down just enough to bare his ass, and he can't halt the helpless groan that drifts into Kaoru's ear. He hangs his head against Kaoru's shoulder, shudders, and struggles to regain composure. Fuck, what Kaoru does to him...
Kojiro's already achingly hard. If Kaoru straddling his bike hadn't done it, the mere notion -- let alone evidence -- of his piercings would have been the nail in the coffin. Kaoru can feel it against the small of his back when Kojiro presses forward, desperate for contact, for friction. Maybe Kojiro really is just driven by his desire, but how the fuck is he supposed to keep his head on straight when Kaoru--
When he exists, really. Especially like this. Kojiro's grip shifts, slips closer to Kaoru's entrance before his fingertips encounter-- Realization dawns with a wicked grin. Kojiro catches the edge of the plug, angles it forward, and gives it a short push and pull. ]
Where the fuck do you get off calling me horny when you rode all the way here with this? [ Kojiro catches Kaoru's lips again, briefly, still smirking. ]
You want me to fuck you this bad? [ Another gentle push of the plug, and another buck of Kojiro's hips. ] Ask me nice.
cuz it's classy smut, like for politicians and athletes
[ If only Kaoru could have untied them as well. Kojiro's too thoroughly distracted to be disappointed over the missed opportunities, though. The second Kaoru's ass is free -- briefs or no -- Kojiro's hands are on it.
Kaoru's backside is like a holy grail, and it needs to be revered accordingly. There's not enough time, not enough hours in the day, for Kojiro to extoll its many virtues. He could spend every waking moment like this -- hands cradling, then squeezing, then slipping beneath the waistline of Kaoru's briefs -- and it would still never be enough. He eases Kaoru's briefs away, down just enough to bare his ass, and he can't halt the helpless groan that drifts into Kaoru's ear. He hangs his head against Kaoru's shoulder, shudders, and struggles to regain composure. Fuck, what Kaoru does to him...
Kojiro's already achingly hard. If Kaoru straddling his bike hadn't done it, the mere notion -- let alone evidence -- of his piercings would have been the nail in the coffin. Kaoru can feel it against the small of his back when Kojiro presses forward, desperate for contact, for friction. Maybe Kojiro really is just driven by his desire, but how the fuck is he supposed to keep his head on straight when Kaoru--
When he exists, really. Especially like this. Kojiro's grip shifts, slips closer to Kaoru's entrance before his fingertips encounter-- Realization dawns with a wicked grin. Kojiro catches the edge of the plug, angles it forward, and gives it a short push and pull. ]
Where the fuck do you get off calling me horny when you rode all the way here with this? [ Kojiro catches Kaoru's lips again, briefly, still smirking. ]
You want me to fuck you this bad? [ Another gentle push of the plug, and another buck of Kojiro's hips. ] Ask me nice.