(Untitled)
Ooh~ la la! Never in my wildest (and wettest) dreams did I ever think this kink meme would yield such passionate results! With nearly five thousand comments in the initial post, I figured it was high time we bring the naked party over into a new post to leave the first open for request followup and... other forms of fulfillment
( Read more... )
“It’s nothing, Nanako-chan. Sorry about waking you up,” Souji replies before Dojima even has time to react. There is a faint sound of an “…okay” from the direction of her room, and then the door clicks shut again. Dojima resumes breathing, not having noticed that he had stopped when he had heard his daughter’s voice.
“Guess I woke her up,” he mutters, a wry grin on his face. “Some father I am. Haha…”
“At least you try.”
Dojima just looks at Souji, a derisive smile on his face. “You’re a good kid,” he finally says. “I guess I’m a pretty lucky guy for getting a chance to have you here, even if just for a while.”
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the stress or just the way his nephew’s standing there with an understanding smile on his face, but Dojima takes that one step between them, fingers reaching out to take Souji’s chin in his hand. He waits for the other to flinch, to move out of his grasp, but the guy doesn’t. Tell me to stop, dammit, Dojima thinks as he leans in, eyes sliding shut. Tell me to stop before I do something fucking stupid.
Souji’s lips are soft against his, and he’s surprisingly compliant, almost too willing. The angles pressed against his body are harder, sharper than what he remembers, but the warmth is familiar and comforting. Dojima’s free hand automatically slips around Souji’s waist, taking a spot in the small of his back like it belonged there all along; it was, after all, the way he had held Chisato years ago.
But oh, what would she say if she saw him now? What would she say if she saw him here in the living room kissing his nephew? Would she say anything at all? He can almost see the twist of disgust on her pretty face, but he pushes it out of his thoughts because right now, right here, this feels perfect.
“Bedroom,” is all Dojima says when he forces them apart, and Souji doesn’t argue, doesn’t say anything at all. He feels a little tug of guilt in his gut as he pulls the kid along, fingers entwined, but it’s like his body is on autopilot; the stop button is nowhere to be found.
He barely manages to close the door behind them when his lips are on the other’s again, and this time, his hands opt to move, sliding under his nephew’s shirt up to brush against his stomach and up toward his chest. Souji, for his part, seems to take it all in stride. Hell, all things considered, it looks like he’s enjoying himself being pressed against the door, a knee shoved between his legs.
Has his nephew always been this easy? Not that he’d know, being from a different generation, a grown-up trying to keep fraying ends tied, but Dojima can’t help but wonder.
Maybe he’d grill that Hanamura kid another day to find the answer.
But thoughts on scaring the shit out of his nephew’s friend and curtailing any bad behavior would have to wait because Souji’s moving against him in all the right ways, ways that Dojima thinks shouldn’t feel as damn good as they do. The way those long fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt, the little, breathy gasps that slip past Souji’s lips don’t seem feigned, and it sends a pleasant jolt of energy down his spine and straight to his groin.
A part of his mind is yelling, screaming at him to stop the insanity, but he’s too low on sleep and too high on sexual desire to give a damn. The guilt still gnaws at him for sure, but when Souji’s guiding his hand to his waistband, pulling pajama pants down over sharp hips, Dojima doesn’t feel as bad as he knows he should. To be honest, he feels quite the opposite when the guy’s moaning against him, erection more than apparent with his pants down.
Reply
And he gets it, time and time again.
It’s almost like Souji can read his mind because he’s always one step ahead of him, always doing exactly what Dojima wants. Hell, the kid even gets his hands on his belt before the thought even crosses his mind, and Dojima rewards him for his foresight with a nip on his neck. He stills his hips for a moment to let the guy work, but the second his erection is free, he presses himself flush against the other, as a low groan is dragged out of his throat.
Dojima wonders briefly how the hell he had gotten by for so long without feeling this, but he doesn’t get too far with that train of thought because Souji’s sucking on his own fingers, pink tongue laving each digit with great interest. A grunt of approval gets lodged in Dojima’s throat as he watches; it’s quite possibly the most sensual thing he’s ever seen until he sees his nephew’s hand drop and disappear behind that pale ass.
Because the second Souji starts fucking himself on his fingers, he knows without a doubt that that is the most erotic thing his eyes have ever witnessed.
The display before him is so enthralling that for a second, Dojima forgets to move, forgets everything altogether. When he feels his nephew’s free hand settle on his dick, though, he’s jolted back into real time. “Dojima-san,” Souji says, voice so damn pretty with desire. “Please.”
And who’s he to say no to such a request?
Dojima’s arms circle around Souji’s body, as the other’s legs fold around his waist. There’s a certain amount of fumbling, a bit of grunting, wincing, but when all’s said and done, he finds himself in hot, tight bliss. Head buried in the crook of his nephew’s neck, Dojima can’t bring himself to move lest he loses it right then and there.
Dull fingernails rake against his still-clothed back, and Souji’s breathing is ragged and uneven against him. Dojima presses a kiss to the kid’s skin and then finally starts to move, actions slow and awkward until he gains momentum and rhythm. When he does, Souji responds in turn, shifting to meet his thrusts.
Unintelligible words are muttered into hot, sweat-sheened skin, and Dojima can feel his climax coming closer with each push, each snap of his hips. He glances up through half-lidded eyes and finds himself looking at his nephew, who is lost in seventh heaven. His skin’s flushed, a light pink-purple in the dark room, and his mouth is open, lost to some silent cry of pleasure.
He’s beautiful, Dojima decides. It’s not in the same way Chisato was, but in his own right, the boy’s got his own charm. He wonders what the hell he did to deserve this, to have this guy staying here at his residence, to have him in his arms now, and it’s his last coherent thought as he comes, losing himself in pure, white ecstasy.
Reply
Then it all comes back, a rush of muttered words, warm breath, and calloused fingers, and Dojima rushes out of his bedroom. The living room is empty; a small note on the table says that Nanako’s gone out to play with her friends. He then turns to look up the stairs, noticing that Souji’s door is closed.
Taking the steps three at a time, Dojima bounds upstairs and knocks on his nephew’s door, fearing the worst. When it opens a second later, though, he just finds Souji standing there, a faint smile on his lips. The boy looks a little more tired than he’s used to seeing him, but there is no fear, no regret in his stance and expression.
“Sleep well, Uncle? It’s past noon already.”
“Souji, I-About last night…”
The kid laughs, shoulders shaking lightly. “I told you, didn’t I?” he replies, taking a step closer to Dojima. A hand reaches up to cup his cheek, despite the stubble there. “I’ll help you shoulder the weight.
“I’ll help you forget about your worries.” His smile is warm, reassuring. “Even if just for a while.”
Reply
Reply
I'm happy to hear that you enjoyed it. ;o
Reply
That was just... all kinds of amazing! Thank you so much, you wonderful writer!anon!
Reply
Yay! Well, I'm glad that you liked it! It makes this anon very happy to hear that. ♥
Reply
Two thumbs way up, writer!Anon.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment