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Ken had been nearly hit by a car at least three times while pedaling back to his parents’ apartment as quickly as he possibly could from the Ayase Shrine. He’d been honked at no less than five times at crosswalks, because he kept getting distracted by the buzzing flip phone in the pocket of his dressy slacks.
He’d made the mistake of pulling it out to check his messages, only to turn nearly purple and snap the phone shut with a high-pitched whine.
“The very second I go inside, I’m going to go to my room. I’m going to get my toy, and I’m going to put it in my vagina. It’s going to go into my pink folds; not your fingers, not your tongue, not your dick - a plastic, unfeeling toy."
HHHOOOOOONNNKKKK HONK HONK HONK!!!
Make that six times.
Fuck, he needed to get back to the apartment.
There was no regret, no second-guessing in that he’d made the right decision. Momo deserved more than a rapid tumble in a dusty garage while they worried about her grandmother coming out to murder him.
For that matter, he deserved better, as well.
Maybe he was being an idiot, but he wanted the romance and the tenderness that adults always said first times should be filled with. And more than anything, he wanted to provide that experience for Momo. Flower petals on the bed, candles, soft pillows, and nothing between them but sweet anticipation and complete trust.
It didn’t feel right to take her to a love hotel - even if some of them were fancier than anything he’d ever seen and could be considered romantic, it was still a fucking love hotel! And while he really didn't like the thought of being at the apartment and possibly being interrupted by his parents (as unlikely as it may be), he also wanted to be able to make love to her somewhere private, safe, and without any outside influences coming along to ruin everything. Where he could appreciate her fully, for as long as he could- as long as she fucking wanted.
He absolutely wouldn’t do something like that with Seiko-san in the house at the Shrine. That would be the height of disrespect, and he’d be begging the matriarch to club him to death for giving in to his caveman urges.
“And when I do come… I’m going to call out your name. Do you understand that?”
Of course… he knew what it felt like on his fingers, what she looked like when she came. It was just the once, and it was quiet and soft. He could work harder, he could do so much better if the setting and the time and the mood was right. Maybe he could make her fall apart - maybe even feel her cum a couple of times before they took that next big step together?
God, he wanted to see her shattered and in pieces. He longed to make her cry out his name (he’d settle for Okarun, but if she called him Ken when she crashed down onto him, he just might fucking die on the spot).
His girlfriend. She was his fucking girlfriend and he was her boyfriend and people in relationships had different levels of physical intimacy most of the time. Right?
Truth be told, beyond vague urges that could be taken care of with a quick hand (more or less - though less often in the past two years), Ken hadn’t ever really been all that interested in sex. He was a social outcast (pretty much for as long as he could remember) and had resigned himself to remaining a virgin, not even to be kissed by anyone for the rest of his life, since he was very young. The medication didn't help, either.
And that was fine for a long time.
Until Momo Ayase smashed his preconceptions and tugged him at high speeds into a world of color, of taste and touch and sound that he wanted to replicate over and over, louder and bigger than ever! He wanted to know what it felt like to be loved by her in that way, and to show her how much he could love her in return.
It was like sex didn’t compute until she entered his life and made him want it. And now he wanted it all the fucking time.
“... you could be between my legs, or underneath me, or inside of me… do you understand that?”
Fuck, he was really understanding it now - nearly back to the apartment after fighting with his incredibly impertinent erection the whole ride. Thankfully, when you're speeding by on a bicycle, most people aren't able to get a good look at the tent you're pitching.
It did suck, though. His thighs were sore, balls aching, and he was honestly a little worried about zipper burn from the incessant rubbing against his pants.
The plan had been to put Momo’s cool whispers out of his mind until he got back. Don't think about the way her lips curled over the hollow of his ear, don't consider the hot path that her words burned from his brain to his pulsing cock, don't remember how much he wanted her to ride him senseless (oh god, she fits so perfectly on top of him, he was fucking made for her). Most importantly, he couldn't imagine the way his name sounded as it rippled through his hair from her lips, he couldn't picture it loud and desperate and needy.
That all went to hell within five minutes of leaving, when he just couldn't fucking wait to check his phone for her messages and got a high definition view of a little pink vibrator resting in the crease where her plush thigh met her pubic bone.
He could just see the sheen of her arousal on her labia- he wanted to suck it off her. Fuck, he'd even use the toy if she wanted - just so long as he could tip her over the edge of ecstasy, and then do it again and again and again.
“Could be you. Wish it was,” was attached to the image.
Holy. Shit.
That was the first time he'd nearly gotten run down, because he veered into oncoming traffic and got flipped off by a taxi driver.
He didn't lock his bike up once he finally got to the apartment- he could buy a new bicycle if he needed to.
His hands were already at his belt buckle once he kicked the door shut behind him, ripping his shoes (and half of his sock) off his feet and nearly wiping out in the kitchen. The phone in his pocket chirped again, the vibrating on his thigh making his hair stand on end; he was jumpy, anticipation running electric through his body.
Eyes locked on the screen as he navigated back to his messages, Ken stumbled his way to his bedroom in a near drunk fashion.
That pale pink facsimile of a cock pressed teasingly against her swollen, wet clit. So close and carefully cropped that he couldn't see more, just like the last one. Fuck.
God, she was a tease. He loved her so much, shit, if only he could be the one rocking against her clit, he’d have her on his tongue and he’d taste her over and over. He’d make love to her with his mouth until she crumbled and moaned beneath him and then he’d do it once more - till she was fucking begging for him to be inside her.
Or he was begging her, which to be frank, was far more likely.
Flicking his tongue on the rounded, bow of his lips, Ken imagined it was her clit. She’d needed internal as well as external stimulation to cum last time, for him to feel her inner walls pulse and clamp down on his soaking fingers, his thumb brushing the sensitive nub in little circles while wishing it was his tongue, his mouth, his helpless cock pressing and providing pleasure for her.
Those twenty minutes had been playing on repeat in his head, like a television that he didn’t have the remote for. He couldn’t turn it off- couldn’t turn himself off. Not when it came to her and the way she fucking tasted; the way she gently fucked his mouth with her fingers, coated in her juices, he wanted to feel it again.
He nearly tripped over his pants in the hallway, already they were sliding down his legs to his ankles. Fuck it, he could pick them up later, he supposed as he shook the clothing off of his person, wrestling his feet free and grasping the knob to his room.
Slamming the door shut with his back (not like anyone was around to overhear, though), he took in some deep, labored breaths and just leaned there, lost in the memories for untold seconds (minutes? hours?). His dick twitched hard, impolitely reminding him about the desperateness of his situation. Looking down, there was a massive wet spot on his incredibly tented boxers.
Then his fingers were around his shaft, he didn’t even intend for it- it just fucking happened that way. And he was staring at her picture, trying to type one handed while he moved at a glacial pace, teasingly feathering touches along his swollen cock.
A very large and insistent part of his brain was screaming at him and rattling the bars of the cage he’d shoved it in; pretty much ever since he and Momo had been making out against the wall in her grandmother's garage.
He needed to make it special? Every fucking moment with her was special! He could have taken her, he could have made her his, let her fuck him into the dojo mats and then flip them around to pound into her like his lizard brain wanted to. Cum deep inside her, fill her up and claim her.
Fuck, she sure as shit had sounded like she wanted him to! But… would she really want to? Did she want to be claimed?
Ken was an idiot a lot of the time, he could admit that to himself in private. But on this, he’d been smart. He’d made the right fucking choice, even if his dick was leaking all over his fingers as he slowly worked himself- moaning his girlfriend’s (his fucking girlfriend’s!) name lowly on each downward stroke.
The phone in his hand buzzed and the message reached him before the picture.
‘I wish I could see you. It’s not fair.’
And then Ken nearly came all over himself as he saw that (lifeless, plastic, unfeeling, cold, not enough- god, he could give her so much more-) toy sunk halfway inside her soaked cunt. Once again, the picture was a close up, as though he were pressed up to her heat, lying between her legs with his mouth ready to lavish her body with devotion; with an intent to mark, adore, bequeath, and promise her pussy everything. To whisper it into the core of her being and fucking make good on it in the years to come.
Jealous? Oh, fuck yeah. Of an inanimate fucking object, at that.
It wasn’t fair. Momo wasn’t being fair by teasing him (even if he goddamn loved her for it, holy shit, knowing he turned her on this much was making him feel high). But Ken wasn’t being fair either.
She’d only ever seen his cock once; hard and hungry for her, bouncing against her thigh, twitching in her soft and careful grip, pulsing beneath the pressure of her explorative pace on his shaft. Even though he'd gotten to see her countless times, pulling his phone from his pocket and looking at the pictures she sent, imagining his mouth wrapped around her flesh as his fingers drifted towards other parts of her so that he could learn to make her cry out, unrestrained in her pleasure.
Otherwise she only had his words, his oaths sworn to her over the fucking internet; that he’d taste her, fuck her, make goddamn love to her, fill her up and keep her that way (full, beloved, satisfied), tight to his skin and wet with proof of her and his pleasure between them. Momo had only the one (spectacular) night that he'd relived a hundred times in the mere days between.
He'd also hurt her with his rejection earlier.
“Don't you want me?”
Of course he wanted her, he wanted her more than fucking breathing most days. Somehow, he'd managed to suppress the very loud and eager part of him that was shouting to do whatever she wanted, that he'd promised so many times already to please her, to worship her- and that he was wasting his chance and misplacing her feelings over some stupid, traditionalist, absurdly poetic notion that it should be special! As if it wouldn't already be special because it was with her, the only person that he'd ever be capable of loving.
How could he make it right? What could he possibly do to soothe her pain and her heat? That same burning crept through his veins like magma, searing and crisping him to ash slowly to make him even more aware of how stupid he was.
‘No… it was the right thing to do. I need time to show her what I can give to her. I need to make it as nice as possible, something she can remember fondly,’ Ken argued with himself fiercely, fighting the clawing urgency in his brain to just get on his bike and rush back to the Shrine to kiss her whole body and beg for forgiveness, for fucking salvation, ‘A fast fuck in a garage? She deserves so much more than that, damn it. God, Momo…’
Fuck, he needed to figure out where to get sakura petals.
Another message and picture came through, the hand teasing his cock stilled completely.
Full view, no more zooming in. At first it just looked like an enticing picture of her pink, dripping pussy (fuuucccckkk he'd eat the fucking phone if it could somehow grant him a taste, just a drop of her desire on his tongue-), two of her lovely fingers both squishing her clit and spreading her lips and holding crimson underwear aside so he could see her glistening entrance.
Until he noticed that he actually couldn't, because the slim, pastel vibrator that she'd sent a picture of previously was jammed all the way within her, only the flared base visible.
The moan that pummeled its way past his teeth was absurdly loud and surely the neighbors fucking heard him sounding so far gone, but Ken couldn't bring himself to care or feel embarrassed.
That could be him! God. Fucking. Damnit.
His desperate tongue, drunk on her flavor- on her scent; his fingers, curling inside her, plunging rapidly, learning how to make her scream; his cock, god, it could be his cock pressed flush to the seam of her body- he wanted to know what she looked like when he filled her, when he figured out how to move his body to make her feel good.
Holy fuck, how he wished it were him.
How he wished he could send a picture of what she was doing to him, or a video- she'd see his desire in full for her, know that the way her name would bumble repeatedly, way too loudly, out of his mouth was only for her.
But he didn't have a fucking camera, unless you counted his webc-
Releasing his pulsing dick, he typed out a message, just a handful of words, one simple request. She could ignore it, hell, he probably deserved that - all of this was to tease him anyway, to remind him how close he got to tasting divinity before stupidly turning her down.
“I need to see more of you, do you want to see me, too? On discord?”
Well, the indicator changed to ‘read’. For a few moments there was nothing, he could barely even breathe.
Then his desktop (which was almost always left on, anyway) beeped, and Ken scrambled over, dropping down into the chair so clumsily that he nearly fell to the floor in his haste.
“Webcam?” she asked.
He'd be a right bastard to deny her anything at this point, so he ripped open his desk drawer, pulling a pile of tangled cords out and cursing as his cock throbbed while he tried to separate the webcam from the others.
It was taking too long, so instead he located the correct dongle, plugged it into the USB port on his tower, and tried to rest the mass of cords onto his monitor so he could use the camera properly (and so it wouldn't obstruct his view of Momo, of course.)
Taking a few deep breaths, the boy wrestled his anxiety into submission (whatever Momo wanted from him was way more important than feeling fucking nervous) and clicked the video call button at the top of the screen.
The girl accepted it almost immediately, and the flush that overtook his face was almost hot enough to fog up his glasses. Were they really about to do this?
Though it was so nerve-wracking, it was also unimaginably hot, too. And his girlfriend's searching, galactic eyes were taking him in with as much jittery fervor as he was in return.
They were both still wearing their shirts. Momo was blushing too, fiddling with her hair in that cute way that made him want to kiss the hell out of her. The boy wanted to make that blush run from head to toe, wanted to taste her feverish skin, leave it purple with his joy and ardor.
“I’m sorry, you're-”
“We don't have to if-”
The teens started at the same time, and then diverted their embarrassed gazes off screen, panting already.
Seizing the moment, Ken cleared his throat and tried not to let the nerves make him wheeze, “Uhh, we don't… you don't have to do anything you don't w- want to do,” a glance up revealed that her bright, interested eyes were fixed on him again, darting down and over his covered chest, drinking in the planes of his face in a way that made him shudder. “I- I… uhh, if you want, it could just be… me? You don't have to… you know? Er! That's if, if you even want to s- see me-” he stuttered.
Only to be interrupted by Momo's strong voice, “I do!” Dazed, he peered up at the crimson girl, she was covering her face with both hands, and the glow of the laptop screen reflected off her turquoise nails. Slowly, by centimeters, she lowered her hands to her lap and said, more quietly but no less firm, “I do, Ken. I do want to, uh, see you.”
A strangled squeak tiptoed past clenched teeth, and he coughed to hide it, “Uhh… o- okay, Miss- Momo. I- um… wh- what do you…” he trailed off.
Fucking pathetic. He should have ended the call before she broke up with him for being a total loser and a coward.
“Um,” based on her blush and pleading eyes, Momo seemed to be just as unsure how to begin as he was. Shit, this was nothing like when they'd sent messages last time. There was no time to think about the words as he typed them, to come up with dirty talk that also conveyed how much he needed and wanted her.
It was horrifying. He felt naked (which was the end goal, he supposed), exposed…
Excited.
There was something so… tantalizing about the knowledge that she wanted to see him naked again. That she, maybe, even wanted to see him touch himself. Hear him cum with his mouth wrapped around the curves and peaks of her fucking name.
Holy shit.
Trying to form words was impossible right now, how do you- how does anyone fucking do that?
So he moved instead, trembling hands going up to fuss with the collar of his shirt- his button down had been shed carelessly in the kitchen or hallway. Ken could take the first leap for her, could do anything so long as she wanted him to do it.
Looking up and meeting her eyes, he felt overheated when she nodded at his unspoken question. With his cock leaking and twitching just out of view, Ken exhaled sharply and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it drop to sit on his erection. It made him jerk.
Fuck, he was so sensitive right now. Whether it was the situation (probably) or the person he was doing it with (definitely), his hips bucked unintentionally at the sudden brush of fabric across his wet cockhead.
Man, he should’ve done it slower. What was it called, a strip tease? It would've made him collapse from the anxiety but maybe she'd like that more than-
Barely audible, a moan floated into his room through the speakers.
Trying to catch his breath, the boy’s head shot up to look at Momo.
Her hands were covering her mouth, but her eyes were tracing over his bare chest, catching on each freckle (becoming more clear each day due to the hours he'd been spending in the sun training) and stalling over the still slightly visible bruising on his ribs.
Shit, she probably thought he was ugly, likely she was regretting agreeing to this.
Even though he was able to run for a much longer distance without collapsing into a heap, there hadn't been any results in the muscles department. And nobody could deny that he was woefully skinny and scarred and just… not attractive.
Feeling a cold shiver break out across his torso, Ken was about to call the whole thing and tear his shirt back over his head. Until movement caught his eye on the screen.
Gulping noisily, he watched Momo lower her hands, reaching down to grab the hem of the cream dress she'd worn for their first date. While she hesitated momentarily (he was about to blurt out that she didn't have to, that looking at him was enough, he couldn't ever be tired of seeing hunger in her gaze-), she pulled the soft fabric overhead quickly and without fanfare.
Ken had seen her breasts before. He had wonderful pictures of her nipple, as well as the unforgettable sensation of said nipple in his mouth while he rubbed her clit. But for most of that, she'd been wearing a hoodie (his hoodie, but still.)
And now, she was clad only in her undergarments; lacy and wine red, dark and so soft looking, he wanted to drag his lips on her panties and then remember what she tasted like through them. Fuck, he even wanted to catch them with his teeth and carefully, painstakingly drag them down her gorgeous legs while she watched him.
These delicates were not everyday wear.
She'd worn them for him. Because she wanted him to see them.
The groan that erupted from his chest was unstoppable, and her blush intensified as she sat there cutely, cross legged on her bed with the laptop set up nearby.
Momo giggled, and maybe it was just nerves, or possibly even relief (she was interested, she wanted to see him, and of the utmost importance, wanted him to see her), but Ken chuckled along with her before darting glances down her body shyly.
As though she were sculpted by the gods of olden stories, left on mortal earth for him to find and cherish. Could such a gift really belong to him? Made just for him? For his hands and his mouth and his heart to adore and worship? He'd make a goddess out of her, they'd grow a congregation together, he'd write poems and sing sonnets in her name, and she'd be the sun at the center of the solar system.
When their eyes staggered back to meet once again, drunk with desire and appreciation and giddiness, Momo smiled at him and he smiled in return, feeling so warm and beloved under the heat of her gaze.
If that wasn't a confidence boost, nothing would be.
Looking at the video of himself for a second, Ken adjusted and then readjusted the camera, taking deep breaths to try and calm the thundering of his heart.
As he looked again at her image, his mouth dropped open and his cock shifted underneath the shirt, and she clearly fucking caught that, because she gasped- but he couldn't look away from the glorious view before him.
Momo had removed her bra, and her breasts, which he hadn't seen before from an upright position, were round and enticing. A little more than a handful, hanging there like they were waiting for him to stoop down and take an already hard nipple into his mouth until she was writhing and whining for further attention. God, he wanted to feel the weight of them on his face, wanted to suck her pliant skin in between his teeth and bite down until she moaned his name.
“Sh- should I, uhh, keep going?” he whispered questioningly, scooting his chair back by inches until his whole frame down to his knees was captured by the webcam.
For her… pleasure, hopefully?
Momo looked down and stared at the shirt on his lap intensely, then bashfully met his eyes and held his gaze instead.
“I would really like that,” she said, sounding way more confident than he felt.
Okay. It was alright. She liked him. They were dating now.
And she wanted to see his naked body again.
Taking a shuddering breath that he nearly choked on, Ken's fingers found his erection through the layers of fabric. He'd been intending to just grab the shirt and remove it, but as soon as he made accidental (?) contact with his twitching cockhead, a gasp broke free and his hips jerked up into the pressure of their own accord.
Ken wanted to hide. But then he wouldn't see her reaction to seeing him fully, in a lit room rather than a dark garage. Of course, maybe he'd rather not see her expression.
But she'd been so eager to touch him tonight (and, ohgod, that sensation was living rent free in his head and would, taunt him anytime he touched himself or felt a shift in his pants because Momo was too goddamn cute), and she'd fucking pulled on him.
Before he completely lost his nerve and fled, possibly claiming connection issues, he quickly pulled the shirt off, revealing himself more to her.
Galactic pink eyes widened and she licked her fucking lips as her gaze was riveted to his barely concealed erection.
The quickest of glances southward made his stomach churn, seeing as the front of his boxers held a sizable wet spot from all his precum. Shit, was that gross?
“Uh…” he started, stalling out for several seconds when his quiet nonsense noise didn't get her attention off his dick.
It was horrifying.
But, holyfuck, it was so hot, too.
His girlfriend looked into it, somehow; her eyes were dark and distant, thinking or remembering- maybe just like him she relived the feeling of his skin as it slid over her naked body in reverence.
Hesitantly, his fingers crept toward the opening in the boxers that his dick was quite nearly popping out of in the first place. Giving her enough time to stop him, to wake up and call it off.
She didn't. Shit, she even fucking nodded encouragingly, lust-filled eyes traveling up to capture his as she gave him a small smile.
It was easy to hook two knuckles over the edge of his underwear, and his penis sprang out, ready and wet. He gulped down pounds of sand, refusing to take his eyes off of her while she observed him.
Teeth were sinking into her perfect, plush lips, followed by her pink tongue. Ken wished it was his tongue instead, especially when he heard the nearly silent, hoarse, “Whoa…”
Emboldened his fingers wrapped loosely around his pulsing shaft, squeezing slightly and angling it up so she could see his length.
Moaning, Momo leaned forward, one hand distractedly rising to pinch at a nipple as she said, “Okarun… can I see more?” Her gaze darted between his eyes and his dick. Which was fair; he found himself stealing glances at her lips and her nipples, too.
If she asked him like that he'd do whatever she fucking wanted, and that was for goddamn certain.
Trembling just slightly, Ken stood from his chair, the blush overtaking his chest as he realized how close that put the video on his erection. Dead center in the middle of the screen.
Another moan from her gorgeous lips. Fuck.
Unable to stop, he stroked himself with his foreskin, pulling it back enough that the pooling liquid on his tip dripped down between his feet into the floor.
“Th- this okay?” Ken asked, out of breath and with his hair on end. He had to know, she had to tell him if she liked it, if she wanted him to-
“More than okay,” Momo groaned, and his hips bucked helplessly at her words, “Don't stop, please?”
An over-loud moan ripped from his chest and he moved to stroke the tip with his palm, coating his hand in the sticky fluid that was basically pouring out of him by that point.
But she wanted to see more, right? And he was already stupid close from the heat in her gaze.
Removing his hand from his cock, Ken pushed his thumbs past the waistband of his boxers, slowly shoving them down his thighs. He jerked sharply when his dick bounced up after being pressed down by his underwear, gasping and almost gripping his hardness again at the stimulation.
Once they were beyond his slim hips, the fabric easily slid down his scrawny legs, and he stepped out of them without much thought.
Until he heard a soft and beautiful, “Oh…” followed by a sudden shuddered breath.
Afraid to let her see his face (he knew he was chewing through his lip and his eyes were about to melt out of his skull from the force of his blush), he just stood there, hands straight at his sides and digging his fingernails into his skin to try and coax sense back into his rigid form.
God, looking at his own video preview briefly, Ken considered diving out the window and running into traffic. No way anyone found that attractive. Fuck, he was so lame.
Momo was just staring, cosmic eyes roving around his genitals, his chest, his chicken legs and awful freckles. Slamming his own eyes shut, he gulped and tried to await judgment patiently- even though it was killing him.
“I want to see your face, too…”
Tearing open his gaze, his heart pounded in his chest at the deep lilt in her voice. She was turned on, he at least knew what that sounded like. He thought about how her voice got hoarse and deeper when they were doing things like this all the fucking time.
Okay. Yeah. Of course she'd want to… see her boyfriend's face (and he was her boyfriend, holy shit-)
His cock jumped and Momo's breath hitched. His own did too, for that matter.
“Oh… um. O- okay,” Ken woefully stammered, barely holding back from apologizing over how bad he obviously was at this.
Sitting down like he thought the chair was gonna bite him, the nervous boy had to force himself to not cover up as his cock jutted out proudly, twitching and leaking profusely. His balls, too, were on display, and Ken was pretty sure he was dissolving- but he peered up through the fringe of his curls anyway.
Momo wasn't even trying to disguise the interest in her gaze. She was leaning closer, clearly taking a hard look at him. At this part of him that he hadn't ever fully shown her.
God, he wasn't sure he'd been naked in front of anyone since he was an infant. And certainly never under such scrutiny.
Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to say something, maybe? Closed it. Opened it again and paled as a squeak emanated from his throat.
Mortified, he looked away, focusing on the bookcase full of models on the far side of the room.
“Hey, come on... Please look at me?” his girl asked, and the comforting softness of her tone pulled his eyes back.
She was smiling, and once he faced her fully, that expression grew into one of her tongue pinching grins. The normalcy was a balm to his anxiety, soothing the wretched, red and black beast that he could feel prowling up and down his spine as he slouched into himself cowardly.
“This is, uh,” Momo started, chuckling nervously, “This is so awkward, huh?”
Gulping, nearly choking with the lack of saliva in his mouth, he nodded once, fidgeting with the skin of his knuckles as he held his shaking hands in front of his chest.
Fuck. He'd fucked it up, hadn't he?
“What about if we…” then the smiling beauty trailed off and got up to her knees in front of the camera. Ken's eyes were glued to the voluptuous curves of her stomach and hips, how her breasts hung into his field of vision as though she were seated above him (god, how he wanted that- he wanted to pray to her between them, swearing oaths to her neck, sealed within the cradle of her hips, worshiping upon her skin and laboring to bring her to the edge-)
And then Momo's lovely turquoise nails hooked into the thin waistband of her blood red, lace panties, dragging them down over her pubic mons and revealing her dark hair, her slick labia and the clitoris peeking out between the folds. She was so drop dead gorgeous, and the little shimmy she adopted to wiggle a leg out of her underwear only endeared her to him more.
If he weren't already sitting, he'd have fallen to his fucking knees and begged her right then and there. Pleaded desperately to taste her, to touch her, to show her how much he wanted her with his face, his tongue, his body. Fucking everything inside and out of him wanted to love her forever. It was way stronger than teenage lust, always present in his shaking hands and covert glances.
Ken wanted every part of himself to belong to her.
The goddess sat again, legs spread open as her lips followed suit, and he couldn't goddamn breathe. In his mind, she was moving his fingers to plunge in and out of her wet heat, and suddenly those fingers were in his mouth and he could taste her again, smell her once more.
He didn't bother hiding his moan, his hand around the base of his pulsing cock again, the words tripping over his tongue, lonely in his mouth, “Amazing. So beautiful, wish I could taste you again. You're all I can think about.”
As his eyes moved to meet hers, he caught the crimson of her cheeks, the way she fiddled with her hair was seared into the back of his eyelids, alongside every sigh and moan he'd ever heard her make.
Seeming to summon up her grand and bottomless courage, she dropped the hair, her hands landing teasingly in her lap, half obscuring her most precious garden from sight. “Does that mean that I'll get to taste you, too? That was the deal, right?”
Fuuuuuuuccckkkk, she was trying to kill him.
Rubbing his free hand down his overheating face, he groaned piteously, “You… you d- don't have to, you know? I don't n- n- need that. I just wanna make you feel… good.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, Momo snorted and waved his concerns away (also granting him the briefest flash of her pussy.) “You're my boyfriend now,” the reminder made his cock twitch and he flushed even more, “You think I don't wanna make you feel good, too?”
Heart stuttering, Ken considered this new information. He was her boyfriend. And, holyshit, hearing that confirmed again just now, while they were both being so vulnerable, it made him shiver.
Relishing in the memory of her unsure, smooth-as-velvet fingers gripping his dick while he fucked up into her hand, bucking almost uncontrollably because the pleasure and situation had swept him away, he whimpered aloud, gently stroking himself.
“I-” Ken paused, huffing out a surprised breath and watching as her hands twitched, “I guess I didn't, uh, th- think about that.”
She leaned in closer, like she was sharing a secret, her hands gliding away from where she was partially covering herself and up onto her thighs, her knees- where she spread herself open in front of him.
“I want to make you feel good,” shit, “Will you let me?” Oh god.
Ken was very rapidly losing composure, his hips jerking up erratically as he stared, open mouthed at her wet cunt.
“Y- yes,” he breathed, leaning in, too, “If, only if you want to.”
“I'd really like that, Ken,” shitfuck, he cried out at his name, he'd never get over hearing her say it.
“C- can I,” he wet his lips with his tongue, practically vibrating with need, “Can I, uh, t-taste you then? D- down there?”
His girl looked unsure and his pace slowed to a crawl, trying to force some clarity into his sex-addled brain, “Please? I wanna… f- fuck, I wanna eat you out, Momo. I want to make you cum with my mouth.”
Letting himself slip backward into the haze of imagination again, Ken was practically begging her. He wanted her above his face, his tongue and lips having nowhere else to go but all over and inside her burning hot, trembling pussy. God, he could cum just from doing that.
Now it was her turn to look bashful, and he stilled his movements suddenly, worried that he'd maybe taken things too far. Maybe she wasn't interested in that?
“Yes,” she replied, and his heart skipped a very horny beat as his hand resumed dragging his foreskin along his shaft teasingly. Her colorful fingers slid down her thighs again, coasting over her mons and through her pubic hair in a way that he distinctly wished he could replicate with his hand (his face, his tongue, fuuuucc-)
“I want to,” she paused, face as red as a sunset, “Just as long as you let me… uhm, use my mouth, too. I want to s- suck you off.”
Fuck, that was so hot, so unbelievable. He wanted her, he wanted to feel her lips around him.
Gasping, it was almost as though he wasn't in charge of his own body anymore, the whine building in his chest and the faster motions on his cock clear evidence of such.
Momo was the one in charge of it, now. And if Momo wanted to have him in her mouth, she certainly wouldn't hear any complaints from him. Anything she wanted.
Gathering more of his abundant precum in his hand with each upstroke, he imagined the way her tongue might feel, how her lips would squeeze around his weeping cockhead and he'd have to fight with himself to hold still. Would she take him all the way? He was on the average side, so maybe.
With rhodonite eyes as glossy and dark as his own must be, his girlfriend (‘fuckfuck, she's my girlfriend, want her so much- love her so much’) watched the harsh movements of his fist as he thrusted up into it. She licked her lips, he groaned.
Then he was watching her fingers as she pinched her clit between two fingers, sliding up and down in her gathering arousal, teasing along her entrance and then back up to pluck the sensitive nub again.
Her other hand migrated toward her nipples, and Ken, heart in his throat but wishing it were her instead, swore, “Fuck, I want you, Momo. You're all I want. I wanna lay down between your thighs and watch you come undone for me. I want to see you use your fingers up close, teach me exactly how you want me- and then I'll put my mouth on you. I could taste you for hours, Momo, please?”
Something about the vulnerability that she was also showing him allowed him to mumble these things while he stared at her glistening, quite busy cunt.
So gorgeous, so fucking perfect. He wanted to suck marks everywhere on her, little reminders of him anytime she caught a glimpse of her body, small indents where he'd sunk his teeth into her and felt her moan through his mouth.
Blushing, so beautifully flushed and moaning lowly as she rutted her hips up against her hand, grinding her clit in that way she showed him, pressed into the heel of her hand. He could almost pretend he was right there with her; that the digits (the ones with shorter fingernails) which she was coating in her glorious juices were his own- pumping steady and delighted inside her.
“Still want you,” she uttered, breathing unsteadily as she opened her legs even wider, two fingers inside her pussy and crying out for his attention. He met her nebulous gaze instead, dropping glances at her mouth, listening raptly to her words, “I want you to show me what you like, too. Wanna touch you and make you cum on my hands, on my stomach, in my mouth…”
Assuming she was done, Ken ended up jerking feverishly into his hand when she continued, embers replacing the blood in his veins with each sultry syllable, “I want to feel you move inside me, I want to feel you when- when you cum with my legs wrapped around your waist.”
“Ohhhhfuck,” he moaned, moving faster, “Momo. Momomomo, are you close? Should I go slower? I'm getting close. Wanna cum with you. Want to do all of that with you, god!”
“I need a little more,” nodding fervently, Ken slowed his motions on his swollen cock (though his body betrayed him for a few moments and he bucked powerfully into the circle of his fist before he got himself under control again.)
“Anything. What do you need? I'll do it, whatever you want, Momo,” he promised. He'd bare his soul to her if he could; he'd give her everything, he'd bleed for her, he'd treasure her, he'd be whatever she needed him to be.
Somehow, her cheeks grew even pinker, and her voice was hushed, nervous (like she thought maybe he wouldn't immediately jump at the chance to prove himself to her, in any way possible) as she whispered, “Can… can I- can you, uh, I want to see you touch… your balls?”
Hiding behind her free hand, she moaned preemptively in embarrassment- but Ken was already shifting in his seat, scooting lower and angling his dick further up, toward his chest. In truth, he was probably going to end up touching that part of his body before the call ended, anyway. And he was all too happy that she wanted to see him do it.
Lightheaded, he felt nearly woozy with the rush of hormones and desire coursing through him, to have her ask to watch him, to get to do what she asked. He wanted so badly to be good for her, he could do it- he would show her he could be good!
When he lazily scooped first one, then both of his warm testicles into his palm, he shuddered and released a very drawn-out groan. Rolling them gently between his fingers, his hips twitched. He fought to keep the slow pace.
“Am I doing good? God, please tell me I'm good,” Ken asked quietly, desperate for an answer.
“So good,” Momo gasped on the screen, her little moans at each jerk of his body combined with the praise and assurance that he was being good for her setting him on fucking fire. Holy shit, he wanted to burn between her legs. “You're doing great,” she panted, and it seemed like maybe she liked it when he obeyed her, too. The thought made him buck and whimper.
“Please, tell me when you're close, I need to hear it,” he begged, and it was so needy that it could pass for weeping.
He was pathetic. But he was also hers.
And she wanted him, even though he was fucked up, even though he had so many things he couldn't say, even though when he looked at her he was always thinking of kissing her, of pressing inside her and making her scream- no matter where they were.
Every Warhammer game turned into them fucking on the table in his mind. Taking her to the cafe earlier had morphed suddenly in his mind during their dinner, and he was holding her up against the wall behind the store, filling her and biting her neck as he took her roughly, pleading with her to cum on his dick.
And when they were in her room and he massaged her stomach- he dreamed about tilting her head to the side so he could kiss her. In daydreams, they were naked and pressed tight to one another, and he turned her around to ride him in his lap, never unsealing their lips as he made her shake and moan.
Ohgoddd, he wanted the sakura petals. He wanted to make love to her in the safety of her room (a place that had become a haven of his, as well). Ken wanted to taste the salt on her skin and sink into her so gently, when she was so wet and ready and it wouldn't hurt- it wouldn't be uncomfortable. It was all about her, as overwhelmed as he'd definitely be by the feel of her body on his.
Ken needed her to remember him. He needed to make their first time such a good memory that it stayed with her forever. He wanted it to be life-changing for her, because it absolutely would be for him.
Coming back out of his daydreams as Momo cried out, breaths puffing quickly from her abused lips, he recalled the shudder of her body as she collapsed on his fingers.
“I'm, fuck I'm close, Okarun,” he could be Okarun, he loved that she gave him a name almost as much as he enjoyed hearing the real thing.
“Good,” he moaned, and her whole body jerked, “Want to see you cum again. Love it, most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Momo.”
As his hips rolled into his hand, picking up the pace and gently squeezing his balls, there was an intense pressure behind his navel. Like someone was pulling a bowstring taught, holding it ready, ready, so fucking ready to cum- to let go of his inhibitions and show Momo how much he craved her.
But the pressure didn't ease. There was no release, and he really did cry out in frustration and pain. All movement stopped on his end, his fingers still and loose at the base of his helplessly twitching cock.
Momo’s moans cut off after a few long moments, while he sadly watched her fingers frantically move between the lips of her pussy. He couldn't tear his eyes off her, even though his cock was full to bursting with no fucking outlet. It was torture but he latched on anyway.
“N- no, don't stop, I want to see you. Can't cum but I want to see you do it,” he muttered, breathing so heavily that his lungs might collapse.
“But you-”
“Please, Momo. I mean it, I need to see it. I can't… fuck, I can't live without seeing it. I wanna hear you cum, I wanna see what your pussy looks like when you finally cum,” he mumbled desperately, leaning into the screen, well aware that he was fucking begging and just praying that she was a merciful goddess as well as a beautiful one.
His girl was unsure again, tension in every line of her body as his eyes raked over her, hot with hunger. So he asked again, “Please? Momo?”
She was quiet and he wept internally that this would be the thing that fucked them up; his awful fucking body, his weird mental illness that made it so difficult to do fucking anything, and now it was this that was gonna tear him apart.
“Okay,” she spoke, almost silent, “Can… Can you still move? Just a little?”
He nodded, taking up the lightest, softest touch he could as his rough fingers dragged glacially up and down his length. For her? Anything.
It was agonizing and so, so good. More whimpers wrestled past his teeth with each full downstroke. He was leaking so much that it might be a fucking medical condition.
“Please, Momo? Need to see you,” he repeated, eyes unfocused, but planted to the seam of her body.
As if brought back to life, the goddess rolled into her hand and fingers, moving relentlessly, so sharp and sudden that he was breathless in the onslaught of her beauty, her sound.
“Mmm, fuck,” she grunted, “Need- shit, hold on-”
Curiously Ken watched her fumble around with her clean hand, until she found what she wanted, lifting it for him to see.
The slim, pastel pink vibrator rested in her palm, and when she clicked the button at the back of the flared base he bucked painfully into his fist as the humming sounds filtered through.
“Need more than my fingers. Want, fuck, I want you, but you're not here,” sparing no more time, she moved the toy to her clit, holding it in place and tipping her head back and moaning. Ken was enraptured, even if he winced at the reminder that he'd made this decision for them.
He wanted to be in charge of the toy, to press it gently all over her body, use it to make her cum as many times as possible before he slid home, her walls fluttering and messy around his cock.
“Wish you'd stayed,” she moaned, the toy moved to her slit and so did Ken's eyes, “This could be you. Fuuccckkkk, Ken, I still want it to be you.”
And then the toy was in her cunt, and she wasn't gentle or slow. Momo was fucking ready, legs shaking as the sensations filled her from the inside out. He watched her delicate fingers plunge the silicone in, then out, each time a squeal or an elongated moan slipping out of her open mouth.
Yes, fuck. Yes, she was going to cum. It was going to be so much better than in the dojo and he wouldn't get to taste it or feel it.
God, he wanted her to feel it though. He wanted to watch her cum with every fiber of his being. He wanted it so much that the wishing was distracting him from the slightly painful tension behind his balls while he stroked his cock mindlessly. Focused on her.
Momo crested the wave of pleasure with a single loud cry of his fucking name (say it again, holyshit, he wanted to hear it on repeat, in his ear, against his neck, above him, planted on his skin to remind him who he was and who he belonged to), etched forever into his brain while she tipped her head back again, her whole body jerking, almost collapsing around herself. Her face was gorgeous, slack except for her eyebrows and the littlest twitches of her lips. Unspoken words, words he longed to hear. Ken wanted to feel them on his tongue. He wanted to kiss her neck and roll with her through her orgasm, help her stoke and build on it.
Each wiggle and gasp was like coming up for air in reverse. He was drowning in her, and he wanted to. Flood his mouth, his lungs, his fucking brain with her fluidity, let it submerge him and replace all thought with only the thick desire to be trapped in her current.
As she giggled nervously, coming down from her high, he wanted to push her into another one. Ken wanted to lap at her core until the only thing she could say was his name, he wanted to lock eyes with her while he was fully inside, to fill her with his cum, his ardor, his love.
Ohgod, he wanted a future with her, a family- so many children that looked just like her to love. An eternity to shower her with pleasure and make them smile and laugh every day of his life-
“Are you… are you okay, Okarun?” Momo panted on the other side of the screen- the other side of town (he wanted to sprint across the city, only ceasing when he was wrapped around her and they couldn't tell where one ended or the other began.)
Holy shit. Holyshitholyshit.
“I,” he choked, whimpered and bucked, his hand moving vigorously, so fast it was probably a blur, “I think I might- ohhhgod, I might be able to cum. You're s- so beautiful, you sound like divinity. Fuck, Momo! Do you want, guh, to see me cum?”
The foundations of bone and tendon holding his head onto his body were melting away as the magma boiled in his abdomen, the pressure was tighter, harder, hotter! He was clutching on for dear fucking life, and he just might goddamn die if she didn't say something, didn't let him know-
“Ken… let me see you cum,” her soft whisper floated through the speakers and into his ears and he fully disintegrated. He was broken down to atoms, to space dust, as his cum splattered hotly in stripes onto his belly, up his chest, almost to his insensate face.
Probably, he was making the most ridiculous noises at that moment. It was like she plucked a string inside his chest as he shook, pulsing and crying out (at her, for her- for salvation) to the force of her vibrations, her gravity. So immense even behind a fucking screen and with miles in between them.
Ken was pretty sure he wasn't breathing. Maybe he died anyway. What a fucking way to go.
But then he floated back, gasping for air, hand still weakly pumping his dick, slick with the last vestiges of his cum that he forced out with his grip- the small part that hadn't painted his fucking chest.
“Oh fuck,” he croaked, voice haggard and his throat slightly sore. Shit, had he really been that loud? Granted, that was the most intense orgasm of his goddamn life, but shit… he had neighbors.
By the time his eyes stopped rolling around in their sockets and he managed to look at the generous, kind, gorgeous, amazing woman on the computer screen, he noticed that her skin was as pink as her eyes- all of it. And that she was grinning like a fucking maniac.
“H- hey,” he breathed, practically wheezing, lifting his cum soaked hand up to wave in a very loose-boned, silly way at his girlfriend.
A full belly laugh made her curl inward, coming to lay her head on her propped up knee, shyly peering back at him through her magnificent auburn hair. “Hey,” she whispered, still smiling.
God, he loved her. He almost told her right then.
“That was,” Ken really had no idea what he could say to properly convey his gratitude and affection, that he was hers, that she wanted to share these parts of herself with him. Or that she wasn't recoiling from those parts of himself.
“Amazing,” she finished for him, giggling, and licking her dry lips.
“Yeah…” he agreed happily, smiling like a total fucking dweeb in return, then fumbling after the finish line with, “Thank you. I had fu- I mean, I loved d- doing that… with you.”
More giggling, which he reveled in. He'd be her fool if it meant he'd get to hear even more of them.
“I, uh,” she fiddled with her hair, “I loved… doing that with you, too. I'm really glad you were, uhm, able to finish this time.”
Ken furrowed his brows, seeing how hard it was for her to say, how much it really meant to her. “I- I couldn't… um, it only happened because of you. Usually I can't if it… uhhh, i- if it gets to that point,” he flushed, grabbing for the box of tissues on his desk to clean himself off a bit, “You just m- m- made me want to try again.”
After this whisper of an admission, he cleared his throat and started wiping at the semen on his torso.
“That’s, uh,” her gentled, hesitant voice snagged his attention, “I really… like that. That you did! That I could… fuck, I’m fucking this up-”
“You’re not,” Ken interrupted, smiling broadly at the girl that wanted him, “I- I know what you mean. I’m really glad it’s you.”
Momo’s eyes softened and she looked down bashfully, her nakedness almost artful, body arranged like a Renaissance painting. God, he wanted to draw her. Maybe he would.
“M- me too,” she barely breathed, finally meeting his eyes again and biting her lip, “Uhm, we should probably get to bed. School in the morning.”
The nerd could hardly wait to see her again. Maybe he’d get to kiss her on the roof or in some alcove again, or listen to her wax poetic about Warcry models and pro painters.
Sucking in a deep breath, feeling a little less grimy now that he’d wiped off most of the cum, Ken mumbled, “Y- yeah, I should probably shower…”
His heart soared when the girl giggled again, “I dunno, you look pretty good like that.”
Immediately, she turned apple red and her pink gaze widened in horror- obviously she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But Ken just laughed, trying and failing to hide his guffawing behind his un-jizzed hand.
Once they’d both settled down, Momo looked at him with those soft eyes again, and he wanted to tell her she was beautiful. That he loved her so much it hurt.
He didn’t.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? At school?” Momo ventured nervously.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Momo.”
Nodding, she smiled, “Good. Uh, night, geek-boy.”
“Good night, Momo.”
‘I love you,’ he finished silently in his head, giving her one last little wave before she disconnected.