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With Yoo Joonghyuk’s nose against his clit, his tongue lapping at his folds, desperate to take in all of the juices that leaked out of his hole—it’d be a miracle if his legs weren’t shaky.
Kim Dokja’s hands pull against the roots of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair, but he’s unable to get him to budge even an inch. It’s as if he’s suction-cupped himself on with the amount of force he’s exerting on his clit, sucking and licking against it as if it were the only thing he were born to do. He laps and laps against Kim Dokja’s folds teasing his entrance over and over again, trying to consume Kim Dokja whole.
Kim Dokja can barely control any of his faculties with all of this going on, with Yoo Joonghyuk essentially tonguefucking his hole. His legs shake, his toes curling, his eyes rolling back into his head. Drool and tears coat his entire face, his vision completely obscured by blobs of light. Still, his greedy body wants more. Yoo Joonghyuk’s tongue is not enough for him to actually come.
“Ugh… Yoo—Yoo Joonghyuk! No more, hng—! No more of this, ha—ah, bastard!”
Yoo Joonghyuk tries to say something, which is terrible for him. The vibrations alone are enough to make Kim Dokja squirm helplessly, held down by Yoo Joonghyuk’s calloused hands. He can’t escape this maddening pleasure, no matter how hard he tries. He’s so close, but so far that it hurts.
“Ah… Joonghyuk—ah! Fuck—sh-shit, hng… shit, bastard… ass—hah—! Asshole! Fuck… It’s… mmph, it’s not enough, Joonghyuk—ngh!”
Kim Dokja seizes up in Yoo Joonghyuk’s grasp as he delivers another well-timed flick to his clit. His entire body is wracked with a shiver he can’t control, his grip tightening exponentially on Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair. He clenches his teeth hard, yet a sound, a mix between a sob and a choke, still escapes through his throat.
Him pulling Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair finally makes him detach from him. Kim Dokja’s grip on his hair is shaken off, weak as it is after the entirety of that pulse courses through his body.
Kim Dokja breathes in, small, sharp gasps as he collects himself. His body shivers, his mind in shambles. He opens up his eyes full of tears, blinking them away to a sight that makes him flush hotter than he already has been.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s face is entirely soaked. If someone were none the wiser, they would assume he had simply dunked his head into a tub of water. It doesn’t diminish how handsome he looks, rather, the come soaking his entire face makes him look like an Olympic swimmer.
Kim Dokja, unfortunately, is not ignorant to the events of the past few minutes, his legs still shivering from the aftershocks.
“You fuck… hah… you bastard…” Kim Dokja breathes, his mind still frazzled. His arms give one last shiver before flopping down onto the bed.
“What?” Yoo Joonghyuk rasps. His throat sounds absolutely ruined. His eyebrow is raised in that smug, questioning way that makes Kim Dokja want to throw something at him. “You liked it, Kim Dokja. What’s the issue?”
“Ugh… ha–ah!”
Two of Yoo Joonghyuk’s thick, calloused fingers slip into his oversensitive cunt before he can answer, interrupting his thoughts entirely. A single crook is enough to get him to squirt all over Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand.
“That was quick,” he calmly observes. He slips his fingers out, leaving Kim Dokja empty, wanting, his hole clenching down on nothing but air. His expression is the paragon of smugness, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.
“Fuck… Fuck… hah, hah…” Kim Dokja breathes. He doesn’t recover fast enough for Yoo Joonghyuk’s standards, apparently, as Yoo Joonghyuk takes his quick gasps as an opportunity to play with his cunt again. This time, he prods at his soaked folds with the thick head of his cock, pressing but not breaching his entrance over and over.
“Stop, bastard… fuck, hic, ngh…” Kim Dokja whimpers. “Stop, fucking asshole! Stop teasing, hic, and just fuck me already!”
“If you say so,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. It’s all the warning he gets before Yoo Joonghyuk plunges fully into his cunt, the entirety of his girth stretching his pussy to the brim. He can feel each vein of Yoo Joonghyuk’s cock pressing against his pliant walls, pushing outwards his overwhelming tightness. Even the head of it is in a precarious spot, nudging right against the entrance to his womb.
His legs, if jelly before, are now completely nonexistent. They’re heavier than lead, yet more weightless than air as Yoo Joonghyuk practically folds him in half to fuck into his cunt—fast and relentless, his balls slapping against his folds in between each short, stuttered stroke. Kim Dokja can’t help the streams of curses that escape his mouth, garbled with constant moans and whimpers, as Yoo Joonghyuk holds nothing back, bending his legs farther and farther until Kim Dokja can feel the entirety of Yoo Joonghyuk’s length entering him, again and again and again.
His legs carry no feeling anymore. Kim Dokja’s knees are by his ears practically, bent so far back it wouldn’t be a surprise if Yoo Joonghyuk had dislocated them somehow. The only thing he can feel is the constant stretch of Yoo Joonghyuk, entering and exiting his cunt in thrusts that are too rapid for his mind to perceive, the constant battering against his womb an onslaught that garbles all thought in his mind, making him forget how to even breathe.
There’s so much liquid on his face that it becomes impossible to distinguish what exactly everything is. Whether it’s his own squirt, his tears, or his drool, he’s not sure. All he is sure about is his cunt fluttering around Yoo Joonghyuk, squeezing him down and locking him in place, right as he tenses. A flood of liquid rushes in him, mixing with his own squirt. The sensation of being filled, of his bruised and battered womb being gifted Yoo Joonghyuk’s seed, is enough to make him squirt again.
Yoo Joonghyuk groans, right beside his ear. There’s something whispered to him, but he doesn’t catch what it is. It’s a precursor to him getting fucked, thrusted into as if he simply a fleshlight once more.