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Jisung’s not sure he’s good at this.
His limbs feel even lankier than usual as he sits on his knees between the open v of Donghyuck’s tan legs, trying not to stare but unable to do anything but stare.
Jisung’s not sure he’s good at this. This being eating pussy.
He’s not even sure how they ended up here. One moment he was struggling his way through a philosophy book —screw you, Albert Camus— and then next he was here.
Donghyuck places one of her bare feet on Jisung’s thigh, scrunching her toes a bit. They’re cute, painted with cracked sparkly blue nail polish. Donghyuck is cute, except that then her eyes go up, up her long thighs until he inevitably finds the space between her thighs, her black panties looking almost shiny under the warm light of her room, and now she’s decidedly much less cute. Jisung can feel sweat starting to pool behind his damn knees.
“C’mon, Sung,” Donghyuck giggles, scrunching her toes again before lifting her leg to prop a warm calf on Jisung’s right shoulder. The movement makes her short skirt ride up even higher, and her skin smells sweet, like the peaches lotion she puts on religiously every night. “Pretty please?”
She says it with a pout, with a sweet simper to her voice that has Jisung going tight all over. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus goes on and on about why people die, and why they live, and what the point of life is. Jisung thinks it’s pretty simple: he will live and die to eat Donghyuck out, so long as he can actually do it right.
“I don’t know what to do.” Jisung blurts out, even as he inches closer, hypnotized by the warmth that Donghyuck radiates, and the sweet scent of her skin. He had already been blushing the moment Donghyuck had parted her legs, but as the words flee his mouth, his cheeks burn an even more profound red.
Donghyuck doesn’t react at first, not really. She stretches on the bed for a second, movements languid like a house cat waking up from a nap. Every time she moves, her clothes shift with her, her top inching up and revealing the soft curve where her waist tapers off into the softness of her hips. She’s smooth all over even to the naked eye, skin glinting under her shitty lamp. Jisung might start salivating soon.
Before he can blurt that out, Donghyuck sits up and pats the empty space next to her. Her beautiful legs are no longer bracing Jisung’s shoulder, and Jisung tries not to cry about it. “Lay down on the pillows then.”
Like an obedient dog on a short leash, Jisung follows her instructions. The bed, too, smells like Donghyuck, her pillows infused with the flowery scent of her shampoo, the slightest vanilla from her favorite perfume. On any normal day Donghyuck smells like a confectionery, and it’s clogging all of Jisung’s senses right now. Finally situated, he tries not to fidget too long while quietly waiting for instructions, or maybe a merciful hand. He’s, embarrassing as it is to admit, stiffening up already, throbbing just at the idea, the mere chance of getting Donghyuck like this.
Donghyuck gives a small, tight-lipped smile, no less mischievous than on any given day. She scoots closer, her hips brushing Jisung’s thigh. So close. So warm.
She walks two of her fingers across Jisung’s lower belly, over his sternum, up his arm. “You’ve never done this before?”
Her voice is deceptively sweet, but Jisung knows she will take the chance to tease him, whatever the answer is. And the truth is that no, this isn’t his first time. His first time was with Chenle, who was bossy and loud and Jisung ate her out more out of spite rather than anything else, and even after she had come and was still panting to catch her breath, Chenle had just shrugged and said you could do better.
“No…” he admits, and then lower, “‘S the second time.”
Donghyuck hums, and her face gives away nothing other than that placid little smile. Her fingers fall to Jisung’s wrist, feeling his still-racing heartbeat, making him squirm. He wants to turn away, away from Donghyuck’s touch and knowing eyes, but he can’t, just as eager for something.
“Alright then,” Donghyuck murmurs, fingertip tapping away at Jisung’s pulse with every word. “I’ll just ride your face.”
The words don’t register at first, until they crash right through him.
“Oh my God.”
Donghyuck giggles, as if Jisung dying is a laughing matter, and all Jisung can do is mutter another oh my god, okay, under his breath.
He wasn’t expecting it when Donghyuck leaned over to kiss him. He sort of thought she’d just get right on with it, sit on his face like a saddle, so for the first few seconds he just stays there, his brain trying to catch up with what’s happening.
His eyes are wide open, which is how he can see that Donghyuck’s are closed. Her lashes fan out against her cheeks, long with her favorite mascara, and he can see that her lips are still stretched just lightly into a smile, can feel it too. Once he kisses back, parting his lips just slightly, Donghyuck sighs against his mouth. Their tongues brush together, tentative on Jisung’s part, but it’s as if that’s all that Donghyuck was waiting for.
She makes this short, sweet sound at the back of her throat before pressing closer, her tongue tangling with Jisung’s, across the roof of his mouth, behind his teeth. He’s starting to feel dizzy again, overheated in Donghyuck’s cheap duvet, so can he really be blamed when he moans into the warm air between their lips?
It makes Donghyuck laugh, and Jisung has to break the kiss so he can cover his flaming face with his hands. It makes Donghyuck giggle again, but then she’s shoving her way beneath Jisung’s arms to kiss at his chin, then lower to the base of his throat. She laves her tongue there, kisses it again before biting down hard, like Jisung is nothing more than a chew toy.
“Oh my God,” he can’t help but pant out again, squeezing his legs together, stupidly eager. Donghyuck headbutts his arms away so she can really get into it, her plush lips wet across his skin. Wet with their saliva, Jisung thinks deliriously as he tilts his head back so Donghyuck can really get her tooth sunk into the thin skin beneath the hinge of his jaw, their saliva combined because they kissed.
It’s a stupid thought to have, perhaps, maybe as stupid as when you’re in 6th grade giggling over an indirect kiss through a shared water bottle, but it takes everything within him to not giggle with giddiness. Liking Donghyuck has always sort of felt like that, like an innocent elementary school kind of crush. Their fingers would brush and Jisung would think about it for days, their knees bumping under tables, linking their pinkies as they walk across campus.
Donghyuck sitting on his face is probably like, complete opposite of that, and God, will Jisung die a happy man.
One of his hands tentatively comes down to hold the nape of Donghyuck’s neck; her waves are messy on the best days, long and tangled, and with the growing humidity of the room they easily get wrapped between Jisung’s fingers. He combs them out gently, trying not to pull, not that Donghyuck would mind though, if her hitched breaths are anything to go by when a knot gets stubbornly stuck around his knuckles.
Oh my god, he thinks again deliriously while Donghyuck shifts to straddle him. For a moment Jisung takes her in with unblinking eyes; she’s usually so small compared to Jisung, all the lines of her body petite in contrast to his own limbs that just seem to keep going, and going. He easily dwarfs Donghyuck, but right now, it’s him that feels small, just a mouse that has played into the cat’s trap. Perched on his hips, sitting up so Jisung has to strain to look into her eyes, Donghyuck looks imposing, like a goddess looking down on its pathetic creation.
And Jisung is pathetic, by the way. He whimpers in an extremely pathetic manner when she finally sits her full weight on his dick. He pathetically tries not to come untouched in his pants. He sends a quick, pathetic prayer to God, and then feels slightly blasphemous for it.
“You’re really beautiful, noona,” he murmurs, shrinking a bit under Donghyuck’s searing gaze. He’s said this to Donghyuck many times before, almost as much as he’s told her she’s funny, intelligent, and capable. Jisung has said pretty much everything except I like you so much when you flirt with other people I think I’ll vomit.
Donghyuck takes the compliment as she usually does, mouth twitching into a smirk before falling into a much more honest line. “Thanks, Jisungie,” she giggles, dipping down to press a wet smack to his burning cheek before sitting back up, quick as lightning. Her fingers start playing with the hem of her shirt, a pink, frilly thing that makes her waist look impossibly tiny. “Say noona, take it off please.”
She’s evil, absolutely evil. Jisung is in love with her, he’s pretty sure.
“Noona, take it off please,” he exhales in one short breath. Donghyuck’s smile stretches into a straight up grin, looking a little too pleased, but she takes it off in one smooth motion without further teasing.
Jisung’s breath gets stuck in his throat.
She’s not wearing a bra. She seldom wears a bra, but he wasn’t expecting to just see her naked, he wasn’t mentally prepared for that yet. Even in the steaming heat of her room her nipples start to pebble immediately, and she runs her fingers lightly over one of them before dropping her hands to Jisung’s wrists. She doesn’t tease him this time, doesn’t make him beg. The light mood suddenly shifts into something suffocating as she lifts Jisung’s hands to her breasts, cupping her hands over the cup of his palms and squeezing. She doesn’t moan; she’s oddly quiet, where Jisung expected her to moan theatrically like in a cheap porn, she’s more about the subtle twitching of her thighs and these short, hiccupy breaths.
She squeezes over his hands again, harder this time, and just the slightest of moans slips through her pink lips. “You can touch me,” her eyelids slip shut, head tilted back slightly so her hair cascades down her back. “I want you to touch me.” She corrects herself, dropping her hands to Jisung’s lower stomach, simply waiting.
He can’t help but hesitate a little longer. He didn’t really do foreplay with Chenle when he ate her out. She didn’t even take off her shirt. He can’t help but feel lame, but Donghyuck doesn’t rush him. She just stays there, eyes still closed like she knows Jisung wouldn’t be able to handle looking into them while touching her like this.
He squeezes again, gently, just to get a feel of her. She’s soft here too, the flesh squeezing through the spaces between his fingers. Whenever they hugged Jisung has always felt the gentle press of her breasts against his own chest; her tits are big, spilling over the cup of his hands, and he can’t help the shivery breath he sucks in before letting go to watch them bounce as they fall. God.
He always thought sex to be obscene, but all he feels right now is reverence, dizzy with the need to be good, to make her feel good.
He leans up just enough to bring one her nipples into his mouth. It’s a dusty brown and still pebbled, and finally she gasps loud enough Jisung doesn’t have strain to hear it. Instinct starts clouding his mind as he sucks on it, pulling off and pulling it gently between his teeth just as quick.
“Ah, yes, Jisung-ah…” she finally moans, just as melodious as when she sings, just as honey-dipped and saccharine as when she’s being cute to fluster him. It makes him shiver, sick and excited all at the same time. He moves to the other side, overwhelmed on all ends. Everything is hot; the bedsheets, the air, his own breath as he pants before pulling her tit back to his mouth. Her skin tastes salty, both already getting covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and her weight on his dick feels good, it feels just right. She’s sat in his lap before, countless times because Donghyuck is unfamiliar with a space that doesn’t belong to her, but it’s the first time he gets to feel her like this, her thick thighs on either side of his hips and her cunt on his dick, burning and ever-present even through layers and layers of fabric. He can only think of sinking into her wet heat for a moment before panic starts trickling into his foggy mind, so he doesn’t linger there for too long, instead focusing on playing Donghyuck like a well-tuned instrument, all tongue and clumsy fingers and zero finesse. Donghyuck is still quieter than he ever figured, but it makes every moan and whimper feel like a reward, and Jisung is the stupid donkey chasing the dangling carrot.
Donghyuck’s hips grind in a slow, tight circle, more for herself than for Jisung’s sake. He wants Donghyuck to use him, to take everything she wants from him and then some, he would just sit there and take it if just to watch her crumble apart on him, because of him.
“Noona,” he brushes the words lovingly against the glistening skin on her chest. “Noona, wanna taste you.” It’s a miracle he can speak, an even bigger miracle he doesn’t fucking bust when Donghyuck lets out this throaty, punched out moan. She wants Jisung to touch her, so he doesn’t let himself think too hard when he drops one of her boobs to slip that hand lower, lower under her skirt, until he can get a good handful of her ass and grind her against himself. The friction is almost painful, almost too hard against him, but Donghyuck throws her head back, her whole body going tight with tension before slowly relaxing. She’s so gorgeous, a mess of frizzy hair and drying sweat. Jisung wants so suddenly to be good, he wants to be the best so she simply won’t go looking anywhere else for this. He can give her everything, would carve himself empty for her.
“Yeah, okay, lie down,” she tells him, and he doesn’t waste a second to listen and do as he’s told.
Donghyuck doesn’t bother with the skirt, just hitches the jean skirt until it’s all crumpled around her hips and the softness of her lower tummy. She doesn’t bother with her panties either. The fabric is just pushed to the side, careless and rushed, as she starts kneeing her way up the bed. Jisung steadies her until both of her thighs bracket his head, and then she’s right there, holy fuck she’s pright there.
He didn’t think much of the first time he did this. Chenle’s vagina looked as intimidating as any vagina would for a virgin like him, and that was that. But he can’t help but stare as Donghyuck settles just a few inches above his face. She’s wet, she smells wet, just sweat and her natural musk combining with that damn peach body lotion of hers, and everything is fucking shining. Her thighs, her neatly trimmed pubic hairs, the folds of her lips, all glistening wet because Jisung touched her.
“You’re staring,” Donghyuck hums sweetly. Jisung is too gone to be embarrassed, eyes only flickering up to meet hers for a beat before falling back to her cunt. His hands inevitably end up on her thighs. She looks just as imposing as she did when she climbed on his lap, but Jisung’s hands still encompass so much skin as he squeezes her thighs lovingly, he can still touch so much of her just like this. It feels dizzying to know she’s letting him do this, not only trusting him but wanting him like this.
“Pretty,” he shrugs as best as he can with so much of her on him.
She flusters for only a second; Jisung doesn’t need to look to be able to tell, her silence is evidence enough. Sadly, her wit takes no time to get itself back on its quick feet.
“Stalling,” she counters. Seconds tick by before she adds in a gentler tone. “C’mon, Jisung-ah, it’s okay.”
Nervous, inexperienced, and so in love it hurts, Jisung can only nod dumbly. “Okay” he agrees in a just-as-gentle voice, and then, because it’s important she knows. “Just sit on my face, noona. I can take it.”
I want it, he means, even if I’m bad at it, I want it.
Donghyuck’s nails scratch agains his scalp softly. “Open your mouth then.”
And so Jisung does, tongue out, eyes half-lidded but still watching as she lowers herself on him slowly. The first brush of her lips on his tongue is just faint enough to be felt, and that simply won’t do.
He uses his grip on her legs to pull her down, maybe a bit too sudden, onto his waiting tongue. She doesn’t taste like much, shockingly enough, maybe just a bit salty, but her skin here is even more velvet-smooth than the rest of her body, and the soft sigh she lets out will forever be recorded into his mind.
Donghyuck moves her hips on her own this time, dragging her wetness over the cupid’s bow of his lips, down his tongue, all the way to his chin and back up. She’s setting a torturously slow pace for herself, short circles and back-and-forth swings of her hips that must feel good enough to be just over a teasing touch.
And Jisung just takes it. He lets her ride his mouth at her own pace, listening to every hiccuped breath and whimper that slips out of her mouth. He’s so distracted he almost forgets he’s hard until Donghyuck squeals his name like it’s the only one she knows, and it makes him throb so hard for a minute he thinks he might come untouched, just letting this pretty girl use his mouth until she spills right into him.
And it’s like the cord that had kept the tension this whole time snaps in that single second. He stiffens his tongue until the pointed tip slips between Donghyuck’s folds, brushing against her clit in one swift motion. He lets go of one of Donghyuck’s legs to bring it to his erection, tucking it haphazardly into his sweats to squeeze himself through his underwear.
It really won’t take much, he thinks dizzily, moaning against her cunt as she starts picking up her pace. It won’t take much more than a hand over his underwear to make him come, not when she’s fucking herself on his mouth and moaning his name like a mantra.
“Sung, Jisung,” she pants, thighs squeezing his head until he fears his eyes might pop before letting go. “So good, baby, ‘m close.”
Even the slight suffocation is starting to feel stupidly good, and she’s close, and finally Jisung’s stupid mouth finds a better thing to do other than blurt out stupidly honest words. He doesn’t hold her down like he wants, because he is hers and she can decide what to do, but when her clit glides against his tongue again he sucks, hard enough to feel it palpitate against his lips, hard enough for her to squeal like it truly caught her by surprise. She really is close, he can almost taste it, and he glances up in hopes to catch it.
He can’t really see her face, not with her head thrown back between her shoulders, but he can see the slight folds on her stomach as her hips keep working herself down on him, he can see that way her tits bounce with the movement, soft and still so sensitive as two of her small fingers come up to pinch a nipple before letting it go, almost as if in pain. Her chest keeps stuttering with half-caught breaths, and.
And that’s really all it takes. Jisung squeezes the head of his cock hard once, twice, one more time as she calls his name again, and then he’s spilling into his underwear, coming in ways that tighten his stomach, make him moan and whimper and fight for his breath as Donghyuck chases her own orgasm. He can feel her dripping down his cheek even as the waves of his orgasm keep crashing through him, can still hear her sweet voice as she hmms and ahs her way through it.
And finally, even as weak and disoriented as he is, he finally uses his hand on her thigh to pull her down until the only thing she can do is sit there and fuck his mouth. His name gets lost and half-finished in a moan as her hips finally still, thighs tight and shaking around his head. Donghyuck comes quietly, without breathing, her body quivering like a leaf in the wind. Jisung feels it on his tongue, the way her clit throbs as more liquid seems to gush out of her, and for one scary moment, he thinks he could get hard again if he just concentrated hard enough.
She’s still shaking when she taps his hands, and he quickly lets go. He misses the weight of her body as soon as she’s gone, but thankfully she doesn’t go too far, just slides down his body far enough to hug him. Their skin sticks together but he doesn’t care, wrapping her arms around her as she buries her face against his neck. He can feel her breath puff against his neck when she breathes out a short little giggle, sounding so clearly fucked out he kind of wants to start preening like those stupid birds with the nice feathers.
“Oh, Jisung, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
Her voice is raspier now, and she sounds so pleased, like she’s got Jisung right where she wanted him.
“Can’t wait,” is all he can reply.
After all, dying or living, good or not, Albert Camus said it best: one must imagine Sisyphus happy.