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OOFURI KINK MEME
Please feel free to make prompts, anything goes, so don't be shy to request! Noting that the meme doesn't run on solely the requesters but also the writers, so we encourage any writer(s) to start filling in requests. Don't be afraid to write even if you aren't a pro writer, just give it a shot!
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Please feel free to make prompts, anything goes, so don't be shy to request! Noting that the meme doesn't run on solely the requesters but also the writers, so we encourage any writer(s) to start filling in requests. Don't be afraid to write even if you aren't a pro writer, just give it a shot!
Anon Commenting : ON | IP Logging ( Read more... )
The slow, deep kisses become sloppy, but definitely more passionate, as the seconds tick past. Their lips don’t always make contact; sometimes their tongues flick to odd areas like the nose or cheek, but this doesn’t seem to matter because by now Riou is stroking both his neglected and Junta’s renewed erections.. They maintain eye contact, just barely. Riou is certain that looking Junta in the eye while fisting him is at least seven times hotter, mostly because Junta’s eyes are honest even if the rest of him is not, and he can almost see the waves of pleasure his ministrations spark off in the older boy.
Suddenly Junta grips Riou’s hand, stopping him from stroking. Riou finds himself pouting like a child at the denied contact. Before he can complain about it, though, the pitcher pushes his shoulders backwards, down towards the mattress. He considers resisting, but the older boy is both strong and determined. Only after he’s flat on his back and Junta is kneeling over him does the thought strike him that maybe, just maybe, Junta’s planning to take him this time and not the other way and oh god he’s totally not mentally prepared for such an eventuality.
“Jun-san -“ What are you doing? Why are you doing what you’re doing? He couldn’t ask. Those questions should have been asked long ago; now it was too late. Riou clenches his fists, trying to ignore the completely unnecessary ripple of fear passing through his body.
The dark-haired boy shifts his weight, and now his knees are on either side of Riou’s torso, the legs folded under as he rests his buttocks just below the younger boy’s hips. Their arousals press together, and Riou stifles a groan. He is well and truly trapped under the pitcher, but for some reason he’s getting extremely turned on despite the sneaking undercurrent of apprehension. Junta bends down, bringing their chests together as he kisses the copper-haired boy again. The movement increases the pressure against their erections, further stoking the already stifling heat, and Riou automatically reaches down to give them both more friction -
Junta catches his hands, his iron grip a testimony to his endless training as a pitcher. He shakes his head when Riou stares pleadingly at him. No touching. Riou sighs windily and relaxes, realizing the futility of resistance in this situation. He tenses up again fairly quickly, though, when Junta prods his kiss-swollen lips. Puzzled, he opens his mouth to inquire, and the calloused fingers slip in.
With supreme effort, Riou quashes the urge to cough. He remembers that they often use saliva as makeshift lube when nothing else is readily available. It seems like he’s really going to get taken by his friend - he knows it’s hypocritical of him to feel so victimized, especially when Junta’s been taken by him so many times already, but he can’t help it - and as he really can’t do a thing about it, he might as well just get on with it. As he swirls his tongue over and around the digits in his mouth, he wonders why they’re going with this option when there’s lube only an arm’s length away in the bedside drawer.
Deep blue eyes watch him intently as he sucks on the fingers. The intense gaze makes Riou feel oddly shy. Junta usually closes his eyes for most of the time they spend having sex. Perhaps it’s due to the switch in positions… The younger boy pushes the thought away for consideration at a more appropriate time and focuses instead on his current task. That’s the callus for a slider, that one for a straight fastball, this other one probably from a sinker…
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