[Wangzuo] Warning: NC-17
by aoyagi
Mochikomi
She was all soft hair, round curves and smiling eyes when she approached him and he couldn’t help but notice the way her shirt opened low enough to see the steady rise and fall of her breasts. The drink in her hand matched the slight blush of her cheeks and Isumi downed it in one gulp when she offered it. He didn’t remember what she told him exactly, but soon he could taste that luscious mouth, parted almost too easily to accept his clumsy advances. “Let’s go upstairs,” she purred seductively and he pulled her towards the elevators.
“I really admire you, Isumi-san?” she whispered in a voice that could dull a choir of angels. “Your matches always drive me insane with anticipation.”
Isumi smiled sheepishly. “I am very flattered. You…”
Whatever his brain planned to produce afterward escaped with a wild rush of blood into his groin when the girl forcefully put his hand up her skirt. She wore no panties.
The loud ding of the elevator could have announced their arrival at the gates of hell, for all Isumi cared. He felt strong, manly and capable of anything that came his way. For a brief moment he wondered if he should go back downstairs and challenge Ochi to another match, but then he was in his room, the girl grinding against him in all the right ways and all the right places. Sadly, he couldn’t remember her name.
Their strewn clothes soon carpeted the floor. Isumi briefly thought of his inexperience with women and sexual encounters, and relationships, but soon forgot all worries when the girl climbed onto the bed and spread her milky-white legs. He clambered after her, clumsily trying to insert himself into her opening, but failing until she helped guide his throbbing penis where it was supposed to go.
He drove himself in and out, repeatedly, watching in fascination how her breasts bounced, her mouth parted in gasps and the damp skin reflected the dim light of a streetlamp. Isumi smiled with pride at how well he was doing.
“I love you,” he whispered passionately into her neck and her skin thrummed with a deep, throaty laugh. He was ready to propose the next morning.
Release came in a cacophony of his panting mixed with her moans. Isumi felt the rush of his blood as he spilled everything he had into her. He collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, but it wasn’t too long before he reached for her again, wanting more.
The morning came all too soon, riding in the wake of an achy head, dry mouth, empty bed and lack of money in his wallet. A note on the nightstand was brief and told him what he already knew:
Sucker.
Mochikomi - a tactical or strategic failure resulting in stones orphaned within the opponent's territory with virtually no possibilities, and in return for which no (or too little) compensation was obtained.
Mochikomi
She was all soft hair, round curves and smiling eyes when she approached him and he couldn’t help but notice the way her shirt opened low enough to see the steady rise and fall of her breasts. The drink in her hand matched the slight blush of her cheeks and Isumi downed it in one gulp when she offered it. He didn’t remember what she told him exactly, but soon he could taste that luscious mouth, parted almost too easily to accept his clumsy advances. “Let’s go upstairs,” she purred seductively and he pulled her towards the elevators.
“I really admire you, Isumi-san?” she whispered in a voice that could dull a choir of angels. “Your matches always drive me insane with anticipation.”
Isumi smiled sheepishly. “I am very flattered. You…”
Whatever his brain planned to produce afterward escaped with a wild rush of blood into his groin when the girl forcefully put his hand up her skirt. She wore no panties.
The loud ding of the elevator could have announced their arrival at the gates of hell, for all Isumi cared. He felt strong, manly and capable of anything that came his way. For a brief moment he wondered if he should go back downstairs and challenge Ochi to another match, but then he was in his room, the girl grinding against him in all the right ways and all the right places. Sadly, he couldn’t remember her name.
Their strewn clothes soon carpeted the floor. Isumi briefly thought of his inexperience with women and sexual encounters, and relationships, but soon forgot all worries when the girl climbed onto the bed and spread her milky-white legs. He clambered after her, clumsily trying to insert himself into her opening, but failing until she helped guide his throbbing penis where it was supposed to go.
He drove himself in and out, repeatedly, watching in fascination how her breasts bounced, her mouth parted in gasps and the damp skin reflected the dim light of a streetlamp. Isumi smiled with pride at how well he was doing.
“I love you,” he whispered passionately into her neck and her skin thrummed with a deep, throaty laugh. He was ready to propose the next morning.
Release came in a cacophony of his panting mixed with her moans. Isumi felt the rush of his blood as he spilled everything he had into her. He collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, but it wasn’t too long before he reached for her again, wanting more.
The morning came all too soon, riding in the wake of an achy head, dry mouth, empty bed and lack of money in his wallet. A note on the nightstand was brief and told him what he already knew:
Sucker.
Mochikomi - a tactical or strategic failure resulting in stones orphaned within the opponent's territory with virtually no possibilities, and in return for which no (or too little) compensation was obtained.