Chapter Text
The car ride is silent while Satoru texts. Toji has one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, the other splayed over her thigh.
Satoru is just a woman.
From: Suguru<3 [2:13 am] did she even get to fuck you??
From: Suguru<3 [2:14 am] how impolite satoru
From: Suguru<3 [2:14 am] this nice woman and you won't even give her your pussy properly. make up for it
She tosses her phone somewhere in the door of the car, and regrets ever picking that fight with Suguru in their first year of highschool; what an awful woman. The phone clacks loudly against the cheap plastic of Toji's shitty car. Whatever. It's not like she can't afford another.
Toji doesn't flinch at any of her movements. Her hand remains quietly on her leg.
The buzz of the alcohol had thoroughly worn out by now. Satoru felt sticky and a bit tired, the night pushing on, but the lull of the drink had been replaced with a much more fun thrumming under her skin.
Satoru is quietly buzzing with arousal instead. The hot weight, just below her skirt, a knot in her stomach and her overheated cunt sliding against the leather seat, panties drenched all the way through. She felt dirty, and looking between the two of them, Satoru couldn't help but swallow thickly. Toji, dressed in jeans and a sensible tee, her, dolled up with her sparkly top and short skirt, stupid heels adding to her already impressive stature, like she had gotten picked up for a good time, and it only served to knock out her breath even more.
She makes a mental note to tell Suguru about this later.
She'd gotten but a taste of those fingers inside, and she was craving more tenfold. She'd never really grown out of her eternally-horny teenager phase, but she was only twenty three, so her friends prayed it would happen already. She didn't mind though, if these are the situations it got her in. Her cunt pulsed, clenching around nothing as she squirmed, skirt riding up higher and higher, threatening to provide anyone who got close enough to see inside with a killer view of her underwear.
Not many curious eyes in the middle of the night though.
When she squirms again, the grip on her thigh tightens suddenly, making Satoru exhale shakily.
She peers at Toji, whose eyes never once leave the road. Instead, her fingers trail quietly, higher and higher, until they brush underneath the flimsy fabric. They find the wetness effortlessly, caressing her mound.
Toji makes an appreciative noise. Satoru whines, low in her throat.
She tries to grind her hips, hump her hand again, but Toji retracts it in time. Cross, the younger woman groans.
"Uncomfortable?" Toji asks suddenly. Her voice is smug, sultry. She's got that shitty grin again, an expression that's starting to elicit some sort of Pavlovian response from Satoru the way her hole flutters at the mere sight of it.
The hand resumes its position, as though it'd never moved.
Satoru gives her a dirty look. She'd pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, and she makes full use of her doe eyes, blinking at Toji with a pout.
"Rightfully so! I'm still so wet, you're teasing me too."
Toji sighs. "And? You want me to fuck you at a red light or what? Can your cunt not stay empty for even a few minutes?"
Satoru's jaw goes a little slack, and she breathes out something between a moan and an indignant squeak. The tone is condescending, as though Toji is explaining simple addition to her. It makes her blood pump.
Said traffic light turns green and Toji steps on the gas a bit more aggressively than necessary. Clearly, Satoru isn't the only desperate one.
No wonder. The older woman hadn't come yet. She wouldn't let Satoru suck her off in the bathroom, which stung for all of a few seconds until she told Satoru she'd fuck her face if she played nice.
If she played nice.
When has she ever played nice?
Making sure to be as loud as possible, she moves in her seat, Toji's hand sliding off of her leg, she watches the other arch a curious eyebrow. Toji's fingers clench involuntarily, a little spasm, before bringing her hand to the shift gear, letting Satoru do whatever she was planning on doing.
Ever so slowly, her hands slide down her own body, breath picking up. She bunches up the skirt, reveals her drenched core.
"Satoru." Toji's warning comes.
"Yes?" She pushes her panties to the side, hissing at the cold air hitting her overstimulated pussy. She's wet, pretty and pink and throbbing with need, despite having come twice already.
Satoru always got obscenely wet after coming a few times. Suguru was unreasonably obsessed with that – despite claiming not to be – and she took great pleasure in eating her out until her legs gave out and she was leaking like a faucet all over her girlfriend's face.
She slides her fingers through her folds with a pleased little sigh, tipping her head back. It's like the heat is radiating from her, warming her fingers immedtely. Her legs are spread awkwardly in the seat, as she pushes a finger inside her hole, feeling herself clench around it.
"Satoru."
"It's not fair, eh? A-ah, mhm… ah, it's not fair, I'm so wet right now. You won't mind, I'm just stretching myself out for you, making sure I'm, ah, nice- nice and… ready for your cock. Fuck…"
There's a growl from her partner for the night, and it's only when there's fingers grabbing her throat and a much larger hand pushing hers out of the way and covering her pussy that she realises the car has stopped.
"You little whore, how needy are you? What, were you gonna make yourself come right here? All over my seat, like a cheap hooker? How easy."
Satoru's breath stutters when Toji pushes two fingers inside her again, thick, not quite as long as hers, stretching her suddenly. Her hand is cold and it makes her flinch away violently. She moans, long and whorish. Toji prods at her insides, rubs against her walls, fighting her tightening muscles, Satoru nearly sees stars.
"Yeah, I'm needy. Fuck me, please, take me upstairs, please…"
"Maybe I'll fuck you right here. Beginning to notice location doesn't matter to you that much. Too bad I don't have my cock right now, I'd bend you over the hood of this car, take you like you should be taken. You don't deserve a bed, do you?"
The thought makes her clench down, of her, skimpy clothing ruined, bent over the dirty car as Toji rams inside her, using her for all she's worth, letting her moans float out into the air, for everyone to hear.
"Please, please…"
"Begging already? Fuck, you…" Toji gross and gives her neck a little squeeze. "However, I told you I'd give you my strap, and I'm a woman of my word. Get out of the fucking car."
She rips her fingers out of Satoru, making her yelp, and releases her throat.
Satoru grins, ear to ear.
Next thing she knows, she's being pushed through the front door of a tiny apartment, certainly much smaller than hers. She notices a pair of closed doors, a beat up couch on their rushed way to the bedroom. She wonders if she could convince Toji to fuck her there, maybe put her on the coffee table like a proper doll.
Toji doesn't give her much time to admire the decor. She is unceremoniously dropped onto a bed, face down. She gasps, attempts to push herself up, before a dominating hand settles between her shoulder blades, keeping her down.
Satoru tried to turn her face, to get the air her lungs are desperately craving. Toji pushes her skirt up and over her ass, and lands a swift smack against her behind.
Satoru moans.
"Yeah, there you go. You just need the brat beaten out of you."
"I-"
Whatever she wants to say is lost as she yelps. Toji’s hand is merciless, raining hit after hit, against her ass, against her covered cunt, making Satoru jump and yelp and scream. Pretty blue eyes roll into the back of her head as she bites her lip, feeling herself grow wetter.
“There you go,” she growls. Toji’s fingers find her clit and she slaps there too, making her groan, a guttural sound deep in her throat. “Are you getting off on this?”
“Uh… ah…”
“What a dirty bitch!” Toji praises, sounding thrilled.
She pulls her panties down too, just underneath her cheeks. She feels her slick dripping onto them, down her thighs, and she flushes deep, blood rushing to her cheeks fast enough to leave her light headed.
"Look how fucking wet you are, doll. Can you cum like this, from a little spanking? Should I beat your cunt some more?"
"Fuck, please, you promised, give me your dick, I need it, please-"
"Not much of a brat now," Toji grumbles and after a little manhandling, moves her to the centre of her bed, ass up with a huge pillow under her belly, face planted onto a comfortable duvet. "I don’t even need to do anything, you’re begging by yourself. How embarrassing, are you that desperate? Don't move. Don't touch yourself, or I'll tie you up."
Satoru squirms on the bed, getting more comfortable. She grins, a toothy thing, despite her breathlessness. "Hah… don't threaten me with a good time."
For once, Toji ignores her and she hears her shuffle around the room, drawers opening and closing. Satoru gets more comfortable, pulling out her array of earrings and tossing them onto the nightstand.
She tries to find the zipper of her skirt, take it off but Toji's much larger hands are suddenly upon hers, gripping her wrists.
The pain takes her by surprise.
"Didn't I tell you not to move?"
"My skirt-"
"Is flipped up. Astute observation. Why don't you ask me nicely to fill you up instead of disobeying me again?"
Satoru, once more, knows a challenge when it falls in her lap. Suguru often calls her an overachiever. She clears her throat and puts on her best whiny voice.
"Please, daddy, fuck me, use me, I'm yours, give me your cock please, stretch me out daddy, I want it!"
It's unclear still, whether Toji is into it or whether she just enjoys watching Satoru debase herself, but whatever the reason, there's an appreciative caress to her flank about it.
The sound that comes from Toji is a mixture of a snort and a groan, but unfortunately she doesn't have much time to dwell on it. Satoru hadn't had a chance to see the dildo she'd picked but when it catches on her rim, no further stretching, she has the chance to get very closely acquainted with it.
It's thick, as it forces its way inside, her jaw dropping in a silent moan. Toji doesn't let her adjust, merely pushing more and more, the slide made easy with how wet she was. Her laboured breathing is the only thing filling in the room, alongside the slick, obscene sounds from her hole.
"Fuck…"
Her voice is so high-pitched, she almost doesn't recognise it. The older woman chuckles.
"Is that good, sweetheart? Is it what you wanted? Look at you, taking it like you were born to."
Satoru's eyes roll into her head on the first slide, as Toji drags the dildo out just as slowly, then back in, in tiny pumps. Satoru almost feels it in her throat.
"It's what you were made for," Toji tells her and Satoru nods along. "Made to take cock, looking like that. I'll give you what you need."
And then she starts fucking her.
Fucking is an understatement. Satoru is pummelled, the pace punishing enough to push uh's and ah's, alongside choked off screams, out of her throat in time with every slam of Toji's hips against her. Her hands scramble for purchase, gripping sheets for dear life. She digs her nails in a pillow and slips, before Toji encases her wrists, brings them to the small of her back, holding them there with one hand.
The other is firmly planted beside her head, covering her view of the bedroom. All she sees, when her eyes aren't rolled back enough to look at her brain, is a thick wrist, veins popping out with the effort of holding Toji's weight. Briefly, Satoru’s brain provides her with an image of that huge hand bullying its way inside her, her weeping cunt wrapped around that wrist, drooling as Toji stretches her so well, breaking her the way she needs it.
It snatches her breath for a second and she clenches, tight. Toji grunts.
She can't quite close her mouth, a tiny sliver of drool falling past her lips, but Satoru really, really doesn't give a shit.
The rhythm never falters, and for a few minutes, it's all she knows, the dildo rearranging her guts, her breath punched out of her on every thrust, while the bed squeaks and groans under them. She is aware she's being too loud, so she tries to stuff her face back in the pillows.
Toji shifts, barely audible over the sounds of her pleasure; grips her hair, drags her up. "Now, don't get shy. Sing for me, doll."
"Fuck, harder, please, a-ah!"
Toji obliges with a condescending laugh. She says something else, but Satoru can't really hear. Toji lets go of her wrists, just to run her hand down Satoru's back, and fuck it's so huge, she's so much bigger than her.
"Choke me," Satoru manages to gasp, voice more of a squeak than anything. The coil in the pit of her stomach tightens and she is so fucking close to the edge.
"What a nasty thing you are," Toji tuts. "A pretty girl like you wants nothing but to get railed like a slut. How disgusting."
She says so, but her hand snakes its way up, and instead of wrapping around her throat, it settles on her shoulder.
Toji pulls her up, and slips so much deeper inside her, Satoru comes, then and there. Her insides flutter against the length, she lets out a cry and her hips stutter against the pace the older woman had set.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-"
"There you go, doll."
Of course, Toji doesn't stop. Even as Satoru shakes from the overstimulation, spasming as her body can't decide whether it needs more or wants to get away from the other. She loses track of time, nothing but a pliant hole for Toji to fuck, sloppy and wet. She lets herself float, not thinking, lost in the pleasure. Toji decides for her, hands clamping down, one on her waist, the other coming up and around, to settle around her throat.
She doesn't squeeze, simply keeps her grip loose. Satoru brings her hands up to hold her wrist, her nails leaving imprints into her skin. It makes Toji fuck her even harder.
"Fucking hell-"
A chuckle. "What a potty mouth," Toji growls. "Really no better than a dumb whore."
Satoru doesn't notice she'd let go of her thigh until she lands another smack on her ass. Her skin feels raw, her blood sings with pleasure and it feels like her lungs can't quite get enough air anymore.
It's so good.
"This is all you're good for," Toji continues, and it doesn't even sound like she's doing anything physically demanding, a bored tone, condescending nonetheless. The only thing that gives her away is a deep groan, every now and then, right into Satoru's ear, making sure she hears how good she's being at giving up her holes.
“Fuck…harder, go harder.”
"Tsk. You worthless little thing, all you know is how to spread your legs and take cock. Do you hear yourself? Moaning like a cheap slut for me and it’s only getting you wetter. You're so fucking easy, went home with the first woman to pinch your tits and shake you up a bit."
"Y-yeah, please," Satoru whines.
"So good for me, you're so fucking tight, you're leaking. Think you can come again untouched? I'll make you clean this strap, push it down your throat while I eat you out. Maybe make you hump the floor while I fuck your face." Toji gives her another slap on her ass. "You'd thank me, wouldn't you?"
Satoru is beyond words by now, nodding, not really sure what she's nodding to, but Toji praises her for taking it so well, for being so went and quick to spread her legs, for crying so prettily for her, and the second she gets a hand on her clit, Satoru is gone.
Her fourth orgasm of the night is not quite as intense as the last one, but it makes her curl her toes as a scream scratches up her throat, past her lips and this time, Toji's hips still against hers, quick pace turned into a steady grind, as she groans low, deep in her chest, riding her own orgasm against the base of the strap.
She drops Satoru, who face plants to the bed, boneless like a puppet with its strings cut. She pants, catching her breath as her cunt pulses, empty, dripping come onto the rumpled sheets. As her vision adjusts again, she feels prodding fingers at her loose whole and she keens, high pitched.
"'m sensitive," she mumbled, too tired to move away.
"Shh," Toji tells her as she pushes a couple of fingers inside, "just take it." She slides them in and out easily, scissoring her tender rim. She’s swollen, her cunt well used, and she whines like a kicked puppy. The sounds are obscene, so much slick pouring out of her.
Toji fingers her some more, rubbing against her walls, as though she’s checking her. Checking how tight she was, if she was worth fucking again, maybe. As though looking to see what she’d done to her. The thought makes Satoru flush, gasp and writhe, and before the soreness can turn into pleasure again, Toni withdraws.
Satoru loses track of everything as she lays on the bed, and maybe a minute, maybe a couple minutes later she's pulled up against a strong chest, a water bottle brought up to her lips.
She gulps it down greedily, finishes the whole thing in one go and turns her head to better lay against the other.
Looking at Toji's tits, it's a shame she hadn't gotten to have fun yet, her mouth watering at the thought of having them in her mouth.
"You in there, sweetheart, or have I fucked you dumb."
"As if," Satoru finds the power to snort. And because she's Gojo Satoru and has never known when to stop, grins a toothy thing, "I'm still waiting to get my face fucked."
Toji stares at her in disbelief, before matching her grin with her sleazy smile, eyes twinkling in the light of the lamp. "You're fucking insatiable. Is this why the wife at home sluts you out?"
As if, Satoru wants to say again, the wife at home doesn't abuse poor old me enough as it is.
Instead she hums. "Maybe, never asked her. I mean," she clears her throat and gestures at herself. She's still wearing her skirt, now rumpled and wet in places it should not be, "be a bit selfish to keep this to herself."
"Mm, true enough. Pretty things like you should be passed around."
Satoru lets her eyes deliberately slide down to Toji's lips. She hadn't kissed her, despite everything they'd done. Her lips are plump, deep red, parting around a scar. Satoru wants to feel them.
Toji grips her chin again, and Satoru doesn't think she's ever gonna get bored of the way her hands can encompass so much of herself.
"If you want something, all you need is ask nicely."
"Kiss me," Satoru demands.
The grip on her chin gets harsher. Her eyes gloss over. "Nicely, doll.'
"Please, daddy."
Lips crash against hers, demanding and dominating and she lets herself be guided through it, lets Toji's tongue slide inside her mouth, almost down her throat. She is gasping for air when they part and when she tries to lean in again, a hand in her hair stops her.
"I think there's better things to do with your mouth," Toji says.
"I'd love it if you told me, daddy."
Toji growls and pushes her on the floor. Her knees scrape against the carpet and she can't wait to show Suguru, alongside the bruises on her wrists, on her hips.
That's as far as she gets with the thinking, because the hand in her hair pulls her in suddenly and shoves her into Toji's cunt. Her pubes tickle Satoru's face, and the smell drowns her, how wet the older woman is.
She gets to work right away, licking and sucking. Toji bats away the wandering hand coming to rest on her thigh.
"Hands behind your back, brat. No touching yourself either."
Satoru whines and wraps her lips around her clit, sucks, like a good girl. Toji sighs and shifts above her, and Satoru strains her eyes to look at her.
The smell hits her before she catches sight of the lit cigarette dangling from Toji's lips. She frowns, the distaste clear on her face but Toji merely smirks at her. She grips her hair at the roots and pushes her in.
"None of that. You've got a job to do, so be a good toy and give me your tongue."
Satoru can't complain any further, laving her tongue along Toji's slit. The older woman lets her have her fun for another few minutes, before the fingers in her hair turn into iron, holding her steady. She loses herself in the sensations, not quite caring just how much time she spends trapped between Toji’s thighs.
With a huff of effort, Toji begins grinding her hips against Satoru's face. She closes her eyes, inhales the scent of her, now mixed in with the nasty smoke, unconsciously rubbing her own cunt against the floor, the rough texture of it giving her that delicious pain against her used pussy.
"Fuck, you're so good at this. Must be all the practice. Make me cum, and maybe I'll fuck you again later."
Satoru is already sore, but something tells her that won't really matter to Toji. It makes her dizzy with arousal, and she slides out her tongue more, tries her best to be good while she fucks her face, uses her to get off.
Without warning, Toji comes all over her face, stilling against her with a long groan. Satoru eats it all up, before she's pulled away from the heat of Toji's cunt.
She is huffing, hips moving on their own accord. Her eyes are hooded, her mind blessedly empty as she begs, "Spit in my mouth again, please, please."
Toji feigns annoyance again, calls her a needy whore, before she fills Satoru's open mouth with her own spit in an echo of a few hours ago.
Just like then, Satoru comes again against the floor, shame filling her as Toji laughs above her. It's so good, it makes her arch her spine, pushing her perky tits out and ripping another moan from her throat.
"What a good little bitch you've been." Toji says as the younger woman collapses against her thigh. "A veritable whore. What do you say?"
"T-thank you…"