Chapter 53: Arc 3, Ch.2: Uhhhh. Okay. (M)

Sliding my hand up a bit, just enough to be at a position that was intimate, but not stuck between his legs yet.

Mizuki shifted his face a bit and I moved my lips to kiss the side of his mouth, then trail along his jaw. He hummed again, a low sound from deep in his throat. He leaned his head back, overstretching it, and showing me his open throat.

My teeth barely grazed his skin before he twitched. It was something I enjoyed; the fact that he sometimes let me do that. Like an animal showing submission, he allowed me to place my teeth around the protrusion on his throat.
I never overdid it with that. I teased him only shortly, then made sure that it was only my lips or tongue trailing over his throat. There was nothing fun in scaring your partner by showing that you were in complete control. I was happy at being trusted to let me do it, but that was it.

He shuddered heavily when I sucked on his skin, leaving a red mark that would fade soon enough.

His fidgeting worsened, especially when I moved down to nibble on his collarbone and slid my hand in between the parts where his legs touched. He shifted, parting his legs slightly, enough that I could reach out for that slightly bulging part at least.

My other hand had already moved from his neck to his back, steadying him while I left wet kisses and bitemarks alongside his collarbone, up the side of his neck and then up to his ear. He tilted his head along with every movement, breath unsteady.

I sighed into his ears, enjoying the heat and desire and his reactions. He still wasn’t resisting my wandering hand.

As much as I wanted to continue, I was hesitating. I’d probably have to open his pants if I wanted to slip inside, but the thought felt weird. Touching him through his pants wasn’t quite what I wanted, either.

As a whole, I was just uncertain of how to proceed, torn between the desire to feel him trembling in my hand and the fear of doing exactly that.

It wasn’t like I had any experience touching someone other than myself, after all.

Mizuki held back a gasp when I slid my tongue over his ear and growled lowly.
“Don’t tease me without reason”, he snarled, voice tinged with desire. I halted all movement, uncertain.

“What I mean is, don’t just get me hard and then don’t help me.”

...Well that’s rather direct. I swallowed heavily.

“Can I?”
I sounded like my throat was sore, my hand squeezing his thigh. He squirmed.

“Anyone gonna walk in?”
“No, not for hours.”
“Then yes”, he rumbled, mouth close to my ear.

I dragged my hand up farther. With the constraint of his pants, the bulge wasn’t too obvious, but I still had the feeling I could feel the raw heat through his fabric.

My fingers clenched around it, too tempted to coax a reaction that I got promptly.

He groaned, digging his fingers into my side, then snarled with heavy breath.
“No… more… teasing”, he hissed. His legs twitched apart just a bit farther.

There are people who say they faltered when trying to open their girlfriend’s bras. I can tell you, it probably doesn’t really matter what it is. Even a button and a zipper are insanely hard to open when you’re trembling with nervosity and are more than just slightly impatient.

To my relief, I managed well enough. Mizuki moved, dragging his leg half across my lap, now almost straddling me after all, which I registered with a mental wail. What a goddamn suggestive position. 

I took a second to look at his face. Flushed, with half-closed eyes and swollen, red lips, parted and trembling with uneven breathing.

It was enough to let desire swap over any remnant hesitation I had. The rest of his pants only did its job in pressing my hand tighter to him.

“Don- ah! ...Don’t squeeze!”
He was moaning and writhing, every movement and sound just exciting me further. I gripped him tighter despite his words and he shuddered, suddenly biting into my shoulder.

“Yeouch!”
My hand loosened involuntarily and so did his teeth.

“Punishment”, he wheezed. I grit my teeth.
“Even if your reactions say you like it better?”

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I was panting, myself. Just rubbing over the thin fabric of his underwear didn’t illicit half the reaction he had when I went rougher on him. As if betraying his own words and confirming mine, his back arched in a jolt.

“Ah-... nghh…”
He bit his teeth together, then decided that biting my shoulder was more to his taste for muffling the perverted sounds that kept on escaping him.

I tugged at the top of his underwear, slowing moving my fingers to slide into it, touching skin on skin. Scalding, was the feeling I got. Burning.

I surrounded him with my fingers, giving him an experimental squeeze. He groaned unhappily.

Just as a mischievous grin tugged at my lips, I froze. In retaliation, he was now opening my pants.
...Sure. I don’t mind doing it like that at all.

Without giving him another moment to think about what he was doing, I pulled him out of his pants. I didn’t need to look down to feel it stand up in my hand, drops of liquid brushing against the palm of my hand.

Heat had long gathered painfully in my lower regions, the tightness of my pants uncomfortable. With my lust-driven mind, I had zero problems to free myself from the constraint and drag Mizuki closer with a strong pull, erasing any distance between us. Out of instinct, he pulled his leg to the side before it got squashed between us, which meant he was completely straddling me.

I growled low, tightening my arm around his waist despite his surprised sound, then used my free hand to press our burning parts together.
We both froze at the touch.

Too hot, too intimate. Too sensitive. Every quiver of my hand or his body was transmitted to my own, overly sensitive regions, which in turn would tighten my hand.

I dumbly thought that neither of us had expected our bodies to be so responsive, at least judging from Mizuki’s reaction. He wasn’t moving an inch, all muscles tense.

I kept myself from moving by biting my lip.

“...Okay?”
I didn’t manage a full sentence.

“...kay.”
The word was half swallowed by my shoulder, but he was so close that I could hear him. I released the breath I had been holding to keep my focus and control myself.

The moment I did, I could finally move my hand.

I couldn’t comfortably surround both of us with one hand, but my fingers were long enough to keep us pressed together tightly.

There was too much friction, at first, of dry skin on skin, until I habitually reached up to slide my fingers over our leaking tips. That was enough lubrication, for my taste anyway.

I stroked us together, gritting my teeth and burying my head in his neck. He smelled good, even if slightly of sweat. Actually, I felt I rather liked that, too.

Mindless, I licked up a salty drop trailing down his neck and stroked faster.

The muffled moans accompanied each of my strokes, their sound like a melody in my ears. Whenever I gripped tighter, to the point that I found it a bit painful, his voice would sound like it was tipping over an edge - just a bit more pleasure, just a bit more begging. He could say whatever he wanted, but his body betrayed that he preferred it with some pain, betrayed it with each jolt of his hips.

We couldn’t endure long. I knew my own body, so I blamed it on the fact that jerking off with someone else has significantly lowered my endurance. Maybe driven by the other reaching their peak, we came almost at the same time, hot fluid releasing into my hand.

He jerked against me, holding back his voice with a strangled sound, and so did I.

Finally, he just slumped against me, panting, and I kept our bodies up with sheer willpower. I couldn’t move an inch. I just concentrated on breathing, willing my pulse to reach a normal speed again.

That last jolt of overwhelming pleasure had pleasantly emptied my mind, so I just enjoyed a short rest leaning against him. His body wasn’t soft like a girl’s, it was bony and hard to the touch. It felt nice, having a solid body wrapped in my arms. I wouldn’t have liked breasts creating a distance between our chests.

He moved lightly, a minute or two later maybe.

“Are you alright?”, I mumbled, reaching my clean hand up to stroke his head, weaving my fingers into the soft black strands. My dirty hand I kept down, resting on my thigh with its palm up.

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