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leave it up to fav mootie to always write the best smut known (currently blushing giggling kicking my feet i want nanami so bad)

Spring cleaning 2 - Clean up your mess

You couldn’t be happier that spring cleaning was coming to an end, your reward now at arm’s length. Unfortunately for you, Kento wants to torment for a little longer and not just with household chores. cw : +18, detailed smut (face sitting, edging, unprotected sex, squirting) please MDNI ; part 1 here

For the first year of living together with Kento, you can proudly say spring cleaning was a resounding success. Who knew the only incentive you needed to fully cooperate was the promise of being thoroughly cared for by your dear husband. 

Even Kento was taken aback by your eagerness, slightly amused by your boisterous shrub trimming in the early morning hours. He watched you fondly as you waved at him from the yard, all smiles and mussed hair, with comically large gardening scissors in your hands. Although your pruning left much to be desired, your effort seemed genuine and Kento took it as a chance to soak in the delightful sight of your bent form whenever you’d vigorously attack dead growth. The delicious curve of your arched back and your zeal were enticing enough for Kento to overlook your mediocre performance, then remedy it himself.

He spent the day quietly checking on you, always pleasantly surprised to find you wholly focused on whatever task you threw yourself into. The highlight of his day was probably seeing your exuberant strut up and down the corridor leading from your bedroom to the laundry room, accentuating the sway of your hips and the rhythmic pitter patter of your bare feet against the wooden floors whenever you sensed him coming closer, huffing and puffing about the “gargantuan” amount of laundry you were putting away. Kento came to find that, by gargantuan, you meant barely enough for two rounds of laundry as you only took a handful of clothes from your hamper to the washing machine at a time, more focused on putting on a show for him than actually getting anything done but it didn’t matter. Nothing really matters when Kento gets to see you so joyful, mischief only adding to your childlike charm, and he knew he was growing entirely too soft even though he’d promised to be implacable with you. 

Kento had steeled himself in not giving into your pleading or puppy eyes or less orthodox, more daring negotiation - or really, extortion - methods and strangely, you didn’t even subject him to any of it. So he fared well, starting strong when he’d easily outsmarted you, having you at his beck and call for the whole day and Kento rode the heady high of an easy victory for once. He could really get used to finally being listened to without protest.  

By the end of the day, you were brimming with energy, both from the prospect of getting your reward and the pride of a job well done.

Sitting on the living room carpet, you admire your handiwork and smile proudly at how the neat piles of Kento’s and your own folded clothes completely cover the white woollen rug, eager to stun him with the results of your honest work and get the praise you craved.

You skip happily towards the kitchen in search of him, head peeking in just enough to get a good look at Kento prepping for dinner, and stalling for a moment to take in the sight of the muscular ridges of his back under his tight shirt. Slowly, you creep towards him, light-footed and conspiratorial, fully intending to scare him but you only manage to get two footsteps in before he pipes up, tone light and knowing, “Did you need something, darling ?”; 

You audibly huff, evidently disgruntled to have been found out so easily, plodding along the rest of the way, nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed at him as you hoist yourself up on the countertop by his side. “You’re no fun, I wanted to surprise you”, you mumble, lightly punching his arm to get his attention. He merely hums and smiles, gaze not straying from the courgettes he julienned with impressive precision. Kento only turns to face you once he is done, and when he catches you staring at his hands with lidded eyes, he’s barely able to contain his snicker at how easy you’ll be to toy with.

“Your idea of surprising me is scaring me, not sure you’re any fun either”, he starts and you shrug innocently. “Besides, it’s hard to miss you ; I could smell you before I could even hear you, honey”. He extends a large palm to smooth your hair out and pull out a small twig still stuck in your ponytail, waving it around in your face. You remain unfazed, pushing your chest out proudly and retorting, “I smell like hard work”. He laughs and corrects, trailing off, “You smell like plumeria, and..”

He moves closer, hands on your knees to part them gently and stand between your legs. Kento’s feline gaze locks on yours, his usually cool amber irises set ablaze in the dying light of the sunset. One hand leaves your bare knee to cup your jaw and tilt your head back, and Kento’s scrutinising eyes make you squirm.  You are suddenly very aware of how you must look in this light, a day’s worth of grunt work leaving you sweaty and unkempt. Kento doesn’t seem to mind though as he ducks his head lower to brush the bridge of his sharp nose along your jaw, then even lower to the column of your throat. He inhales deeply, every little breath he takes against your skin magnified tenfold from how much you want him.

You hadn’t expected your reward to come so soon but you have no complaints about Kento’s generous mood, so you close your eyes and let his hand cradle the back of your head. He takes his time making his way up to your face, the soft pecks he lavished on your collarbones and neck turning hungry when he reaches just below your ear, licking a long stripe and nibbling on your earlobe. By then you are a goner, your little breathy whimpers of pleasure filling the otherwise silent kitchen. You only open your eyes when you feel him pulling away, brows furrowed once you notice his wry smile. What’s so funny ? you want to ask but he beats you to it, the hand at your nape retreating to show a bright crimson petal stuck in your hair.

“Plumeria and bougainvillaea”, he declares with a self-satisfied, lopsided smirk. You stare at him, mouth aghast. “Ken, what the fu –”, you start but he silences you with an open-mouthed kiss, the faintest brush of his tongue against yours easily lowering your defences again.   “You smell divine, hard work really suits you.”

You don’t know how to respond, you’re not used to being denied or teased like this. Kento can see the cogs turning in your lust-addled mind, confusion clear as day in your disappointed little moue.  “What did you want to tell me ?”, he interrupts your unspoken musings. You blink your confusion away, sniffling before answering, “The laundry…I wanted to show you, I did it and folded it, and –” He hums along, listening to you talk about folding laundry like you’ve just done the unthinkable. In a sense, you really have. Kento can’t remember a time when you had to do it since you’ve lived together ;  the burden of virtually every household chore always befell him. He loves taking care of you, so even the most menial and mundane tasks were softened in the glow of his affection for you. He just thought he could claim a little reward for all his efforts, even if it meant retribution on your end.

He does an impeccable job at maintaining an apathetic façacade as he lets you drag him from the kitchen to the living room, his resolve unwavering even when he notices how the enthusiastic bounce of your step is reduced to the uncertain drag of your feet.

“Well ?”, you try with a meek little smile, hopeful eyes fleeting between Kento’s impassive expression and the neat piles you spent your afternoon sorting. “Well ? I thought you would’ve put them back in our dresser by now”, Kento deadpans. Your smile immediately falters and he can see disappointment slowly morphing in frustration. It shouldn’t affect him the way it does, but he rarely gets to see you like this - so eager to please and so afflicted by his denying you. He feels himself twitch in his trousers as your hands ball into fists and your rosy lips jut out in clear discontent, your pout alone enough to tug at his restraint. Too engrossed in your fuming, you don’t notice the pleasure he takes in tormenting you and he uses your confusion to make a quick exit, vaguely telling you to “clean your mess” and get ready for dinner. 

Kento is amazed by how well-behaved you are, actually doing what you’re told even when he leaves you to your own devices, your promised reward undoubtedly thawing at your irritation. He watches you curiously as you move in a daze, putting the laundry away then slipping quietly in the shower, not even daring to invite him in with you. 

The billowing steam curtains a lone body instead of two, but you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you focus on washing away the remnant of hard work and letting the scalding stream of water soothe your nerves. As you step out of the shower, you think you are ready to brave Kento’s uncharacteristically cold demeanour.  Unfortunately for you, dinner is barely more fruitful, and the lauding you expected never comes. Kento is laconic at best, the insipidity of the conversation seeping into what was supposed to be a delicious meal, and there is no mention of what he has planned afterwards. You reason that he might’ve forgotten or maybe that he’s tired, too. 

He’s never like this but you reckon slaving away doing house chores can’t be ideal, even for someone like Kento who gets off on scrubbing away at coffee stains. It’s fine, you’ll just have to remind him and claim your reward. 

You do your best to quell the tremors of apprehension thrumming through you, waiting patiently for Kento to join you. He arrives moments later in all his after shower glory, sandy blond hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. Clad in nothing but low-hanging chequered sleeping pants that’d look awful on anyone but him , Kento has never looked better. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of crystalline droplets travelling the length of his torso down to his navel, and lower to catch on the hint of golden hair peeking out from the dangerously low hem of his pants. Kento can feel you staring and it takes everything in him to not mirror your hunger with his own, the glimpse he caught of your silk camisole and flimsy little shorts already enough to fan the coals of his lust. Instead, he quietly slips into his side of the bed, his back to you. The disbelieving scoff you let out is music to his ears. He feels you shuffle closer to him on your knees, poking his shoulder insistently as you simper, “Babe, I think you forgot something”. He sits up slowly, blinking at you before planting a chaste kiss on your forehead and mumbling a ‘good night’. You loop an arm around his bicep before he can even fall back on the mattress, forcing him to stay upright. “Not that, I meant what you promised this morning”, you try again, pressing your chest into his arm and resting your face against his shoulder. “What did I promise ?”, Kento inquires, blond brows arched in confusion.

“You know, you said you’d help me with the thing."

“What thing ? You’re going to have to be more specific honey, I’m very forgetful”, Kento taunts, scratching the back of his head in faux thoughtfulness. You scoff again, this time more irritated than incredulous, but you don’t relent. You rub your face against his shoulder affectionately, grasping at his hand and not so subtly pushing your chest out harder against his arm to drive your point across.

“This morning, when I told you about those hum, aches, you said you would -”, you stop suddenly, meek and bashful like you’re not rubbing your breasts against the corded muscles of his bare arm, nipples already hardening under the thin silk of your top that does nothing to conceal your growing arousal.  “I’d what ?” You can’t even answer, groaning into his bare chest to hide your fluster. Instead you try to show him, taking one large hand and guiding it to your face, kissing his palm and nuzzling into it, offering him a little smile that’d be demure if Kento didn’t know better. You peer up at him only to meet a hard, unimpressed gaze that suggests you’re going to have to try harder. “You promised, you said that if I was good you’d take care of me”, you huff out, dropping the meek act altogether as you sit back on your haunches, mulishness and petulance taking over. His laughter rumbles deep from within his belly and cuts through the leaden silence of your room. Somehow, it sounds foreign and mirthless coming from Kento. It makes you shiver, something halfway between apprehension and lust stirs deep in your loins. “Do you even hear yourself ? All I do is take care of you, darling”, he admonishes.  You shrink in on yourself, feigned meekness quickly turning into genuine timidity. You try to come up with an acceptable retort, but the prospect of being denied any longer fuels you with a sense of urgency that makes you snap. “I know, of course, I just mean…This is different, you promised and I was really, really good so you have to make good on your word, too !”

Kento’s expression quickly turns dour as he crosses his imposing arms over the chiselled expanse of his chest, reminding you that you are in no position to demand anything. Despite your less than ideal predicament,  you can’t help but stare. He’s so close, at arm’s length really, but you have a sneaking suspicion that if you were to try and touch him, it’d be his ire and not his desire you’d stroke. So you behave.

For the umpteenth time today, you keep your hands to yourself and your mouth shut. The longing in your eyes betrays everything you try to reel back in anyway. Kento knows that look. He’s grown familiar with the slight furrow of your brows and the way your doe eyes narrow in a wistful gaze where you somehow skilfully blend unrestrained pining and shyness: the ‘fuck me’ eyes that have his cock stiffening to life alarmingly quickly in his sleeping pants. At this rate, he won’t be able to keep his little game going for much longer.

“I suppose you have been pretty good”, Kento starts, a single finger drumming against his sculpted bicep. You nod eagerly, mouthing an enthusiastic ‘yes, yes’. He hums, seemingly deep in thought. Mindlessly, you slither closer to him, taking his silence as an invitation. He lets you run a tentative hand up his arm. Emboldened, your touch grows more insistent and your fingertips press into him to savour the sinewy muscle shifting beneath his warm skin. Your eyes seek his again, your pleading gaze chipping away at his austere exterior. “Please”, you try again, tone nothing short of beseeching. A flicker of warmth flashes in Kento’s stony eyes. He relents, but not how you’d expect him to, because he’s gently disentangling himself from you, fluffing his pillow and lying down. You look at him curiously, head tilted to the side and brows furrowed. “You deserve your reward. So take it.”

He vaguely motions to his face, lips stretched in a sardonic smile. Your mouth falls open and your cheeks bloom in different shades of red - shame, lust, unbridled curiosity. “I-I…We’ve never…” you stutter, suddenly shy and unsure. Kento rubs at the bridge of his nose and sighs in feigned exasperation. “I thought you’d be more eager, it’s too bad to see you don’t actually want it”. Lust supersedes any second-guessing and you’re quickly pushing him down when he tries to sit back up. Kento smiles lazily at you once more, making a show of settling comfortably back down. 

“Strip”, he whispers, terse but warmer than before. You quickly comply, trembling hands pulling your camisole off and tugging your shorts down. When you move to peel your underwear off, Kento puts a hand over yours, eyes zeroed in on the growing wet patch between your legs, a silent plea for you to leave it on. You somehow feel more exposed this way, the flimsy material betraying your arousal as it dampens further and sticks to your puffy folds.  Kento beckons you closer, hands on your thighs as he guides you to straddle his abdomen, running his lidded eyes over your mostly naked form. He knows he’s being selfish when he denies you and pulls at the already taut string of your patience, but he wants to commit the sight of your desperation to memory. You’re so beautiful when you’re needy, with your cheeks flushed - not from shyness, anticipation has long taken over - and your soft skin bared just for him. 

Just for me, Kento thinks as he pulls you toward his face, heart leaping out of his chest and cock leaking in his pants when your clothed cunt is just above his face. He traces the curve of your thighs then presses in the dip of your hips, any pretence of remaining soft long forgotten. His once conversational touch now covets ; his clever fingers sink in a sensitive spot until you shiver above him before they move to the next, goosebumps budding in their wake. 

You’re still not close enough though and Kento brings you dizzyingly closer to his awaiting mouth, feeling the heat of your core against his face and getting high off your scent. You truly smell divine and look even better, and he can’t help but crane his neck to lick a tentative stripe from your clothed entrance to your thrumming clit, swallowing back a groan of pleasure at the faint hint of sweetness and slick catching on his tongue.You go rigid above him, the lithe muscles bracketing his head taut from the effort of keeping yourself up, timidity undoubtedly adding to the painful strain on your legs. 

Kento is patient in his exploration of your body, he works at your reserve with small kisses trailing from your inner thighs to your covered clit, whetting his appetite on your airy whimpers and gasps. The phantom brush of his lips against your heated flesh is reverent, barely there but already enough to make you clench around nothing. “Kento, please – I need you”, you whine, trying to press yourself into his face but your feeble attempts are easily contained by his large hands. Kentot’s thumbs dig into your hip bones and his long fingers are outstretched to press into your lower back. “What do you need ? Tell me, honey”, Kento whispers right into your skin, voice hoarse with desire. He’s never made you ask for anything, so discerning and attuned to your needs that he senses and caters to them unprompted. It’s not surprising that voicing your needs has you whimpering from frustration above him. Still, you are nothing if not malleable, Kento’s soft kisses and honeyed voice lulling you into obedience. You let your head drop to look at him between your legs, misty eyes transfixed on Kento’s heavy-lidded gaze, your lips quivering. “I need you to touch me more, please Ken, you know what I want.”

Of course he knows. Kento always knows what you need and how to give it to you. Above all, Kento knows you don’t beg and he almost feels bad for tormenting you but your slick-covered panties tell him the helplessness you feel only heightens your arousal. Finally, he pulls your underwear to the side, baring you to his hungry eyes. You’re so pretty, little hole clenching and clit throbbing right over his mouth. The visual combined with your breathy whimpers has his cock so stiff it borders on painful. “I know, my love, I know." He soothes you when your whines get louder with delicate kisses to your puffy folds. It’s so good, soft and reverent but not nearly enough. You whimper, fighting against his bruising hold. “Kento –” “My pretty girl wants to cum”, he croons, now kissing right under your clit, shutting you up. “Isn’t that right ? You want to cum all over my face, with my tongue deep in your needy little cunt”. Kento doesn’t expect an answer, already pushing his tongue into your fluttering, finally tasting you - you taste heavenly and feel even better, clenching around him to keep his tongue inside your slick pussy. You cry out above him, babbling about how good it feels already and pleading for more. He looks up at your face to catch how it contorts in pleasure, your jaw dropping in a soft whine when he pulls out of you. “Above all, you want to be a good girl for me, right ?” His voice is taunting, you know he’s testing you but your devotion is boundless and you’re nodding frantically. “Yes, yes – that’s all I want, I want to be your good girl." Kento smiles and rewards you with a kiss to your clit. “Then hold yourself open for me while I taste you. Can you do that for me ?”

You let out a shuddering breath that threatens to melt into a sob and it gets him impossibly harder. Your face is bashful, clearly hesitant, yet your cunt drips more of the gossamer fluid he loves onto his lips. “Come on honey”, Kento encourages, searching for your hand with his own and bringing it to your slick sex. He guides your fingers on either side of your puffy folds, voice deceptively calm when he instructs, “Just like that – that’s a good girl, let me see you when I eat you out. Don’t be shy now, you know I love looking at you; you’re so beautiful everywhere, I could cum just from this.” 

The praise he withheld all day long starts pouring. Every groan of appreciation, every hot breath fanning your glistening pussy makes you slicker and your mind grows fuzzier at Kento’s lauding. You keep yourself spread for him, showing your swollen clit without even being told to. His cock weeps at the sight, the painfully erect length twitching whenever you beg for more, so worked up your slick leaks right into his open mouth. Your tone is laced with eagerness and desperation - not for a release anymore, just the need to be good. It makes him want to be good to you in return.

Finally, Kento uses his hold over your hips to bring you down right where he needs you. The first lick of his tongue against your swollen clit has you choking on a moan of his name. Tired of denying you, Kento pulls more wanton moans from your parted lips with well-aimed flicks of his tongue against your clit, groaning when more arousal seeps onto his chin. He quickly grows hungrier, gentle flicks giving way to the insistent suckling of your clit in his mouth, tongue rolling around the pert bud until you gasp and keen in delicious agony. It’s too much and somehow not enough, your hips chasing his touch even when you feel yourself licked raw.

Kento offers you a reprieve from his voracious mouth when he feels the telltale sign of a painful orgasm starting to oscillate in you, nipping at your inner thigh to bring you down then slipping his tongue inside you to raise you back up again. This time he’s gentler, slowly fucking his tongue in and out of your greedy pussy. He takes his time with you, savouring how the almost pornographic moans he pulled out of you mellow into soft little mewls of pleasure. Easing his hold on you once more, he lets you ride his tongue, groaning whenever you bump your sensitive clit against his nose. You both fall in a rhythm, Kento lapping up into your sloppy sex and you riding his face in measured rolls of your hips, this time slowly creeping up the steep hill of your release. Kento is blissed out, head full of you - your scent, your saccharine arousal coating the better half of his face, your little hands grasping at his hair to help your ride out your pleasure - and he can’t help the way his hips jut up, his weeping dick untouched but already so close to release. Snaking a hand down his pants, Kento grabs at the base of his cock, stifling his own pleasure to draw out yours. 

With his free hand, he reaches out blindly up your abdomen to grab at your breasts. He brushes against one with the back of his hand, squeezing it appreciatively, then treats the other with the same reverent gentleness. You clench even harder around his tongue at that, teary eyes rolling back into your head when his hand spans over your chest, his thumb on one nipple and his pinky on the other. Everything becomes overwhelming, you want to tell him how good everything feels, how big his hand is against you and how you’re dangerously close to cumming on his face. Instead, cry out his name, pulsing around his tongue and gushing into his mouth, clit throbbing where it rubs against his nose. Your thighs shake violently on either sides of his face but you don’t pull away, and amid your incoherent babbles, Kento discerns your pleading for more, don’t stop it feels so good. He fucks his tongue into your harder, quicker - stroking your spasming walls so he can drink up everything you have to offer. He lets go of your breasts and his cock, using both hands to keep you firmly against his face even when your orgasm blooms into painful pleasure. His palms are hot against your ass as he spreads you open to lick you down from your climax, and you distinctly feel how one of them is covered in so much precum, adding to the already sloppy mess of your cum and his spit smeared on your lower half. 

Way past overstimulation, you shudder uncontrollably and your moans melt into pitiful sobs. Just as you are about to go boneless above him, Kento gracefully manoeuvers your body to help you lay by his side. He can look at you properly now and he marvels at how beautiful you are with your tear-streaked cheeks and heaving chest, your underwear back between your folds soaking up the mess he’s made of you. You look so fucked out, sniffling and blinking at him with misty eyes, the waves of your orgasm still ricochetting throughout your body.

“How’s this for a reward ?” Kento quips, lovingly brushing strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. You smile lazily at him, too tired to actually laugh, then you nuzzle into his palm and kiss it in silent appreciation. His heart clenches at that, incommensurable love entirely eclipsing lust. Kento litters your cheeks and forehead with small kisses until your laboured breathing evens out, then he slowly moves to stand up. 

“Where are you going ?” you mumble in a drowsy voice. “I’ll be right back to clean you up, don’t worry my love” he tries to get away from you at an awkward angle, hiding his precum-covered pants but your little hands grasp at him, a disapproving pout on your face The sight of Kento’s ill-hidden affliction chases the bleariness from your eyes, and you smile at him knowingly. “No you’re not, we’re not done.” “I know you’re tired, you don’t have to force yourself sweetheart, really I –”, Kento starts, the face of abnegation even as his cock aches to sheath itself in your warmth, but he stops when you slip off your spoiled panties and spread your legs for him again. It seems like he’s fucked the shyness out of you because you suddenly have no qualms about reaching both hands to your sloppy sex, spreading it like you’d just done for his mouth. His jaw drops open when you trail a delicate finger to your fluttering hole, circling it before sinking in agonisingly slow, breath hitching. You must be so sensitive, so warm and tight, he thinks. Primed for his cock. Kento searches your face again for more reassurance.

“You really don’t have to.” “I want to. I want you inside me, don’t you want to reward me for being your good girl ?”; your smile is deceptively innocent, finger still steadily pumping in and out of yourself.

Fuck it.

Kento all but clambers to kneel between your spread legs, strong hands holding your thighs to open you more to him, pushing them to your chest. His breathing quickly grows erratic, pupils so blown they eclipse the amber of his irises. You want to spur him on further so you reach a curious hand to run the length of his bare chest, raking your fingers along his happy trail until you reach his pants. Then, with a devious little smile, you slowly sneak your hand to his aching cock. Kento’s moan is guttural when you ghost your finger of his leaking tip, and he grunts in agony when you wrap your soft palm around him, pumping him to add to the mess he’s already made of himself. If your hand already feels so good, just how much better will your cunt feel ?

With his patience running thin, Kento bats your hands away and tugs his sullied pants down just enough to free his length. Shuffling closer to you, he strokes himself over your spread sex, lidded eyes transfixed on the beads of precum leaking from his tip onto your pert clit. You crane your neck to watch him add to the mess between your legs, eyes fleeting between the angry red head of his dick and his face contorting in uninhibited desire. Kento swipes at your slippery clit with his thumb, reaching to your hole to gather more of your slick and your cum, then stroking your thrumming pearl with it. 

“So messy”, Kento muses to no one in particular, entranced by how sloppy he already got you. “But I need you wetter”, he concludes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whine in protest when he takes his hand away, missing the gentle pressure that was already building your pleasure back again. Your protest dies in your throat however when Kento repositions himself above you just right, guiding his cock to rub the drooling slit of its head on your clit, coating you in his essence. Somehow, that’s still not enough and your eyes go wide when he gathers spit on his tongue, letting a hefty glob drop where you’re connected. You blush furiously at the sight, wanton moans only getting louder when Kento cups the back of your head to make you watch how messier his spit gets you. 

“Think you’re ready for me now, my love ?”  When you nod frantically, holding onto the back of your thighs yourself in an unspoken plea for him to take you, Kento knows you are. Slowly, he arches over you, one hand rubbing his cock over your sloppy sex, the other sliding under your head to tilt it and make you watch yourself get fucked like you’d begged for.

Kento sinks his cock into your awaiting hole excruciatingly slowly, feeding it to you inch by inch, his eyes trained on your face. So fucking pretty, he thinks. The most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen is somehow even more beautiful like this. Kento starves off the need to slam himself into you, quelling his hunger on your shuddering gasps and the deliciously painful bite of your nails into his biceps. He only stops when he’s fully sheathed into you wet heat, cockhead grazing your cervix and making you gasp like he’s just punched the air out of your lungs. He remains inside you, unmoving, letting you adjust to being stretched thin all over gain. Cupping your cheek with his hand, he finally kisses you and you sob into his mouth, kissing him back messily and trying to tell him how good it feels already. I know, I know, he soothes, the velvety baritone of his voice heightening your pleasure. When he feels you relax around him, Kento pulls out cautiously and revels in the whimper it earns him. Slowly, he starts rocking into you, first in measured rolls of his hips into you, but his gentle pace picks up into something more frenzied. 

You spur him on, moaning right into his open mouth and drooling into the large palm he cradles your face with, telling him how good it feels, I won’t last like this Kento, I need to cum on your cock.  Everything is so filthy from your words and the way your slick runs down your ass and coats his balls, to the obscenely loud squelching of your pussy trying to keep him inside you whenever he pulls out. You do ineffable things to Kento and he already feels his orgasm creeping up on him but he needs to thwart it, he needs to feel you cum around his dick like you did on his tongue.

Loosening his hold around your trembling body, he sits back up, the frantic rutting of his twitching length in your heat unfaltering. Kento brushes his thumb to your clit and pushes onto your abdomen at the same time, cursing when you get impossibly tighter around him. His gaze is nothing short of adoring as he watches agony and pleasure swim in your glassy eyes -  you’re so close, right at the edge and Kento knows just how to send you over it. Curling over you once more, he keeps a firm hand pressed on your lower stomach, resting his weight on his forearm so he can hide his face into the crook of your neck. Kento bites, licks, nibbles on every unmarred spot of skin there, cock still drilling into you at a dizzying pace even when you try to warn him that you’re dangerously close.

“That’s it, give it to me, cum on my cock and make a mess like the good girl I know you want to be”, Kento moans right in your ear and your shivering body treats it like a command. You wail as you cum, taken aback by the force of your own orgasm, the walls of your pussy contracting painfully around Kento’s cock. Your high sends him tumbling over the edge too, with a pained gasp of your name. All you feel is Kento - his seed flooding you in long and thick spurts, his twitching cock still fighting against your spasming cunt, and above all, the heavy weight of his scorching hot palm over your lower stomach - and something breaks in you.

Kento feels it before he sees it ; the faint stream of liquid that sprays out of you as he fucks you through your orgasm steadily growing stronger to soak his stomach. He pulls away from you to watch you squirt all over him, eyes closed and mouth drooling, the picture of pleasure. He fights through the pinch of overstimulation that creeps up his cock and balls and fucks more out of you, only stopping when you have nothing more to give. 

Utterly spent, Kento pulls out of you with a wince and watches his cum leak out of you as if in a trance. You’re not faring any better, now completely limp and still soaking the comforter you had just washed this morning. As you fall in and out of consciousness, you weakly mumble to him, “Are you going to make me clean my mess this time too ?” Kento laughs, embracing you and kissing the crown of your head.

 “Spring cleaning is over so you’re off the hook for now.”

For @foreverthelonelytraveller, I hope it's to your liking!

Disclaimer : I'm not a smut girly but I tried really hard and wanted to share something that'd be at least decent :)