Having Beomgyu Sit On Your Lap All Docile And Pretty, Long Legs Over Yours, Spreading Wide Like The Slut

having beomgyu sit on your lap all docile and pretty, long legs over yours, spreading wide like the slut he is—hard clothed dick building a tent down there you find it so endearing how quick he turns putty under your gaze, proved by the already a small blob of wet stain on his pants growing slowly but gradually, yet he has the audacity to act shy and bashful. his eyes are squeezed shut, nuzzling his nose in your chest to avoid the mirror in front of you— he should know by now this takes out all the fun for you.

“gyu, look at the mirror for like 30 seconds at least come on baby,” you whine trying to catch his face, trying to appeal to him with a nickname youve learnt he quite enjoys.

it doesnt work, he just nuzzles further in your clothes.

“god no, do you know how embarrassing this is?” he groans, “just—just touch me please. i need you so bad, been waiting for so long.” he mumbles, shifting on your leg impatiently.

you roll your eyes. typical beomgyu, he always expects princess treatment without working for it. its like you spoilt him too much with too many toys. its clear as day that thats exactly the case because at your silence he doesnt take the hint and blindly searches for your hand, and when he quickly finds it, has the double audacity of grabbing it and trying to push it down his pants like a fucking sex addict, and for a moment he gets the satisfaction of your warm hands, sighing of relief, whimpering, as you process just how bratty he is.

you gasp when it dawns on you, feeling the stickiness of his precum, retracting your hand from his weak hold easily. and really, where did he learn to be so entitled? “fuck, have you lost your mind? is the only thing on your mind getting off your small dick? whos the one in control here?” he has anything but a small dick, but if you need to get beomgyu under you properly you need to attack something he prides

he mumbles something and you tut at him. “speak up, youre a big boy.”

“it’s not small,” he parrots again, all with his eyes still screwed shut like a fucking baby.

of course thats what he focuses on.

“whos the one in control?” you ask again with more conviction in your voice, hand travelling to scratch gently in his inner thighs. this drives him crazy, you know how it usually goes.

you stare at the mirror, the way his adam apple bobs up and down, shifting his head to lean back on your shoulder, his breathing fanning against your neck, increasingly by the minute getting more frantic and unrhythmically fast like a dog in heat. and you get more bruising with the act, getting crazily close to where he wants you to touch.

he breaks.

he always does.

and its even better watching it happen, reflecting it back to you.

the way he spasms, hair over his eyes, mouth hung open as he spills filth.

“touch me, touch me please, fuck, touch me! y-you’re in control, im your whore, i’m yours, i’m your everything baby, please just t-touch my dick please please! haa—t-t—” moaning mess, the neighbours could probably hear with how loud he is. you break into a grin, looking at him through the mirror. “poor baby wants me to touch his dick sooo bad.”

“yes! yes! please, yes!” he blabbers, reaching out for your hand again, struggling to get it this time because youve placed them conveniently behind you, knowing hed try to pull that shit again. he really only thinks with his dick huh?

“open your eyes then, look at yourself. look at how i touch you gyu.”