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It’s been two weeks.
Two long, very irritating, and very hard weeks since Geto stumbled across Gojo’s page. In the first few days, he tried to pretend it never happened. It didn’t matter if it was the best nut he’d busted in a long time (in his entire life, really); he physically refused to believe he had cum to Gojo, of all people.
Not only was it a shock to his system that someone he jerked off to ended up being someone he knew in real life, which had to be against some sort of moral code people held, but it had to be a new trauma going into class and facing said guy you nutted to, even though you hate him.
The first time Geto had class post-nut, Geto couldn’t even look at Gojo, which sucked, because Gojo was the one who wrote all the notes on the board; meaning he was most likely going to fail the next test. Every time he so much as glimpsed the tight black pants Gojo was wearing, cut just right to show off an ankle bracelet with a cute little Sanrio dangling from it, resting on his polished white shoes, Geto got an image in his head of gripping said ankles while utterly obliterating Gojo’s tight cunt.
The second time he had class post-nut, he got it into his head that exposure therapy might be best in this situation, and stared at Gojo the entire class. Primarily his ass, which made him daydream of gripping it, and seeing it in a blood red color Geto always got off on seeing his partners wear. That day, his cock got so hard, he almost weeped, because he refused to let Gojo win. He could be infected with these thoughts for now, sure, but he can’t act on them.
The third time he had class post-nut, Gojo showed up to class in his gym attire for that day. The shorts were the tiniest things ever, showing off miles of long legs and cinching over his ass just right to cause the material to go a tad sheer. Geto is probably (hopefully) imagining it, but he can see the underwear underneath; a pair of sky blue cotton panties and oh they most definitely have a little bow in the front, and wouldn’t Geto just love to pull those off with his teeth before eating Gojo out so sloppy he gets fucking discharge in his nose hairs?
Gojo, being in a good mood, didn’t help, because he was so energetic. He all but flounced around the room, making wide gestures and showing off those well-toned arms, placing his hands on his hips and cocking it out just so. His eyes were extra glittery, sparkling as though they were in the sun rather than under a shitty led light nailed into the ceiling. When Geto got his weekly quiz back, a large, bloody red 38% sitting at the top, Gojo had gripped his wrist and leaned down to force eye contact. His plush, pouty lips were in a slight frown and he sounded so whiny when he said: “Please let me tutor you, Suguru. If you don’t want it to be with a group of people, we can do it alone.”
It felt like the start of the porn he used to watch as a teenager. Gojo leaning down so far, Geto swore he could see the thin binder under his shirt. He smelt like fresh apples and the summer air, and Geto had to hold himself back from sticking his nose to the base of Gojo’s neck and sucking the scent straight from the source.
“Fairly busy,” Geto muttered, swallowing down the sudden arousal building in his throat as he flips his test over to hide the shitty mark.
“I’ll work around whatever you need me to!” Gojo exclaimed, eyes all but pleading. “Just say when, and I’m yours.”
And fuck, did that do something to him. Say the word and I’m yours. Before, Geto would find his airy, breathy tone and pleading attitude annoying. Irritating. Bothersome. Vexing. Any other synonym you could come up with. Now, though? After seeing how Gojo can take a cock like a champ and play the role of anybody you want in bed? Geto felt like warning him about what words like that do to a pervert like him. Because he is a pervert, and he knows when after class he takes a pit stop at the bathroom to jerk off to the image of Gojo naked on his knees, tits in his hands, looking up at Geto with his mouth open and tongue stuck out; panting like a bitch in heat for their tasty treat.
Maybe, he tells himself, it won’t matter if I jerk off, as long as I don’t watch anymore of his videos.
But then, in the dead of night, raging boner unable to calm down, Geto opens his history, and he takes less than two swipes to end up on Gojo’s page again.
Later, he will look back and wonder if this was the catalyst that triggered what will happen between them. Later, he will know it is.
Gojo has a lot of content on his site.
By a lot, Geto means an exact total of 58 videos. A lot of them are pay walled, so Geto coughs up the 10,000 yen a year needed to gain access to Gojo’s entire profile, and unfortunately, even as a broke college student who was supposed to use that money on something necessary to his survival, like food—Geto deems it the best money he’s ever spent when he spends his entire Saturday jerking off.
It’s crazy, really.
Shoko and other friends have been texting him, but from the moment he wakes up to the moment the sun goes down, his eyes glue to Gojo’s profile; tissues sticky with cum littered on his bedroom floor, cock still twitching with interest after every new video he watches.
Gojo isn’t just a camboy, he’s a performer.
Outside of his live streams, where he makes his own money, he does “POV” videos.
POV: ur my roomie and u just caught me toying w my ass
POV: u have a serious case of the blue balls and im nursing u back to health
POV: u were sleeping in my bfs bed and i accidentally ride u instead of him
POV: u decided to buy a free use maid and cant keep ur hands off him
The list was endless, Gojo playing a character in each video. In the free use maid one, he wore a slutty little black bikini top with a matching thong and just put a frilly little waist apron over it. He then squirted in a bucket and mop the floor with it. In the blue balls video, he wore nurse scrubs and pointed the camera from above, so Geto genuinely felt like he was getting jerked off instead of the realistic dildo. In the accidentally ride one, he tweaks his tiny tits and bounces up and down and the camera doesn’t even shake as he blabbers about, oh this is so wrong, but it feels so right ~
Geto’s favorite, however, is one he doesn’t want to give much thought to.
POV: i’m ur slutty tutor and we spend more time fucking than doing work
The video is at a table, Gojo wearing his regular attire he wears to class. A too tight top, and a matching pair of too tight jeans to match. He played up the part by wearing his glasses, which never went past the middle bridge of his nose, and his lips were so shiny it made Geto have to squeeze the base of his cock so he wouldn’t bust early. The video begins with Gojo acting like himself, saying how glad he is the student joined him, and they start on work. Then the camera pans down to his thighs, his chest, zooming in on his lips, and soon Gojo is on his back, legs tucked by his head, being fucked by some machine controlled dildo that has him squirting so hard tears leak out of his eyes.
Geto watched that last, because he knew it would be his favorite.
He’s jerked off to it most likely over 10 times since.
Geto genuinely develops an issue.
Gojo’s site (or just Gojo himself) has become an obsession in Geto’s life. A month into knowing about it, Geto has gone from furiously jerking off every 2 seconds to the mere thought of Gojo’s mouth, to having Gojo’s live stream in the background of whatever the hell he’s doing around the house. He’s playing video games? A tiny tablet propped up against the tv, Gojo’s pussy stretching around a dildo on display. He’s doing dishes? His headphones are lighting up with the sound of Gojo’s breathy POV videos. He’s doing his homework? One hand is on his cock, the other on his pen, and his eyes shut as he recalls how good Gojo looked in whatever he wore the last time he went to class.
“You’re a porn addict,” Shoko says when he finally confides in her, a smirk lingering on her lips. “I know it’s not funny because it’s a serious issue and all, but I’m going to hell regardless, so I’m going to laugh at you.”
Geto gives her a flat look. “I am not a porn addict.”
“You just told me you can’t get through the dishes without listening to some camboy moan,” she argues. “If you aren’t a porn addict, you sure are acting like one.”
No, he didn’t tell her said camboy was Gojo. It was already embarrassing enough, admitting to his worst secret, and he didn’t want to add the layer of I knew you wanted to fuck him to this conversation.
“It’s only him,” Geto explains. “I’ve tried to watch other videos. They get me softer than the idea of doing it with your mom.”
Shoko tilts her head and glares at him. “Was the your mom joke necessary?”
“Sorry,” Geto sighs. “I thought it would make this conversation a little less awkward.”
Shoko pulls a little candy from her pocket, twisting the ends and pulling the small, red shiny ball from its sleeve and popping it in her mouth. At least one of them could curve their addictions. (Seriously. Geto needed to stop rubbing it out to Gojo before his dick falls off). “I’ll give you a pass this one time. So, it’s just this one person you can’t stop watching?”
“Yeah.” Geto shakes his head. “It’s just so weird, I’ve never like…had this issue before.”
Shoko rolls the candy in her mouth. “Maybe you need to get laid in real life,” she counters. “When was the last time you had sex with someone who wasn’t yourself?”
Geto leans back on the wall and thinks. And thinks. And thinks. The long thought process is apparently enough of an answer, since Shoko replies before he can say anything else.
“I’m headed to the club tomorrow. You’re coming with. Wear one of those stupid leather jackets everyone likes on you. We need to get this guy out of your head.”
“Did you even listen to me?” Geto snips. “I can’t get off to anyone else, just him. It’s only him. Why do you think I feel nuts?”
Shoko grimaces at him, running her hands through her hair. “God, dude, it’s all video. Guys like these profit off of loneliness. It worms its way into your skull and wraps tight around the pea brain you try so hard to protect. Just come, alright? It could be the answer you’re looking for.”
And that’s the issue. It is a video, but the guy is Gojo. Someone he knows, someone he’s brushed skin against, someone he’s smelt and has been close (physically) too. So does the whole “it’s just a video” thing apply, when…it kind of isn’t?
But Geto, like most things regarding this situation, doesn’t want to acknowledge that thought. The thought that maybe he’s not jerking off so hard because Gojo is sexy, but because Gojo is Gojo.
“I’m getting a fucking headache,” Geto groans, running a hand down the side of his face. “Fuck, fine, I’ll go, but you’re paying for my first two rounds.”
Shoko rolls her eyes. “Eat shit and die, Geto.”
The night goes horribly.
Shoko ditches him upon first notice of her girlfriend, and the next day when she texts him a sorry I was too busy getting eaten out in the bathroom, he’s already got his laptop open on his lap, staring at a screen of Gojo smiling in one of his videos.
He tried. Sort of.
A couple, their names Yuki and Choso, approached him at the bar. Yuki offered a night with them, said they could show him a good time—Choso sandwiched between the both of them—and while they were both insanely attractive, Geto didn’t feel a single stir from his junior. No movement when Yuki bit Choso’s ear and hugged him from behind. No movement when Choso tilted his chin down and gave a come hither look highlighted by smokey eyeshadow and dark liner. And it straight up recoiled when a hand drifted down his arm.
Geto would think it’s time for a checkup, if his dick weren’t harder than a rock looking at a single frame of Gojo.
He feels himself spiraling.
He doesn’t go outside. He hardly eats. In classes he falls into severe daydreaming, and he gets all boxy whenever his friends try to touch his laptop during a study session. Everything is driving him insane.
Gojo is driving him insane.
So maybe, he thinks, it isn’t needing to fuck someone else that can get this out of his system.
Maybe, he thinks, it’s fucking Gojo that will get this out of his system.
Mondays have to be the worst day of the week to take a science class. Geto’s always hated it. Mondays are just Sunday’s shitty encore, full of nothing but tired people trying to get the show of the week on the road. This Monday, however, he can’t sit still.
Gojo looks good today.
His hair is a wild mess on his head, like always. He’s got his glasses on for once, the large frames making him look almost like an overgrown puppy every time he has to push them up so they don’t fall down. His jeans are a pitch black, and so tight you’d think only a pair of scissors destroying the fabric would get them off. He’s paired it with a white button up and a checker patterned forest green and washed out gray cardigan. The cardigan hangs dangerously close to the end of his shoulders. That paired with his glasses constantly slipping down the bridge of his nose, and he’s the poster boy for a nerd who can’t understand his own sex appeal.
Geto spends the entire class thinking of how he’s going to approach him. How he’s gonna work his angle without spooking him off. It’s not like he can go: “Hey watched your videos and it changed my dick’s life. Wanna suck it?”
Thankfully, the perfect opportunity hits him when Gojo’s handing back his quiz, and it’s worse than the grade he got last week.
Tutoring.
A cliché, but one welcomed when faced with a serious case such as his own.
“Hey,” Geto says, reaching out and looping his hand around Gojo’s wrist. The TA pauses and looks down at their connection, eyebrows furrowing at the sight. Fair. Geto’s never really given the guy the time of day before, especially pertaining to quizzes. “I’m thinking of those tutoring sessions.”
Gojo looks puzzled, before his face melts into something almost happy. He smiles, just a simple lift at the corner of his lips, and his damn glasses choose just then to slip down his nose. “Really? I was just about to give up on you.”
Something churns in the pit of Geto’s stomach. It’s displeasing hearing Gojo say that, and he can’t really tell why. He’ll just chalk it up to Gojo being a pretentious prick who finds him stupid and call it a day. Gojo doesn’t need to find him smart. He actually needs to find him dumb, if the plan he’s currently playing with in his head is to work.
“Yeah.” Geto lets go of Gojo’s wrist, leaning back into his seat. He catches Gojo doing a quick scan over his body; most likely displeased by such casual posture in a classroom, or whatever assholes like him think about people they consider lower than them. Again, let him think the worst. It’ll make it ten times more satisfying when he ends up the one underneath. “I don’t do group sessions, though. Do you do one on ones? I have a dorm on campus, so we can always study there.”
A light pink rises in Gojo’s cheeks, and Geto wonders if he were to place his hand over Gojo’s heart. Would he be able to feel the pace quicken? Is he thinking of that naughty tutoring video he did, placing Geto in the seat of the idiotic man who kept dropping his pencil to see Gojo bend over? Would Gojo wear the tight clothes he wore in that video, so Geto could recreate it and see the plush lips of his pussy poking through the fabric?
There his mind goes again. Too busy thinking of fucking Gojo to actually lock in and create a scenario where that actually happens.
“Oh, I usually tutor in the libraries,” Gojo tells him. He then bites his lip and looks down, almost shy. Like he can tell, Geto is asking for tutoring for one thing and one thing only, and this will be a flimsy piece of armor to ward the bad man off from corrupting him.
“That’s fine,” Geto smirks, enjoying the way Gojo’s eyebrow twitches in slight surprise. “I only offered my place because I can focus better there. Libraries are a bit too quiet, y’know?”
Gojo latches onto the bait, and Geto thanks the Gods Shoko once told that to him so he could use it at this very moment. “They are!” Gojo exclaims. “I have autism—well, maybe that’s a bit too TMI, but—anyway, I need a sound around me, even if it’s little. But not too much. Background noise is fine, because when I get in the zone, it’s not like I can hear it anyway, you know?”
“Totally,” Geto says, and if he’s being honest, he was too busy staring at the way Gojo’s lips moved to really digest anything he said.
“Why not a coffee place or something?” Gojo asks, smiling sweetly.
It almost makes Geto feel bad for his next lie. “Can’t stand the smell of coffee. Or restaurants honestly.”
“What about outside?” Gojo tries again.
“I’m allergic to grass.” Bullshit. Complete. Bullshit. But again, he can’t say he’s planning for this tutoring to be more about Gojo’s pussy than science, so whatever.
Gojo’s eyebrows knit together. Geto can literally see him fighting with his own thoughts, of how he wants to go somewhere public, but Geto seems to have some sort of discomfort with everywhere. And his nature, whether it be real concern or fake, wants to abide by his student’s wishes. Fuck. He wonders if they could get an empty classroom. Seeing Gojo take cock on a desk sounds fun.
“I guess your place seems to be the best,” Gojo tells him. It takes all of Geto’s self control to not pound his fist in the air. “When would you like to start?”
And Geto, like the insatiable, impatient bastard he is, replies: “How about tonight?”
Geto erases every trace of his horniness in the short time he has before Gojo comes over.
Even though his sheets are clean, he cleans them one more time, and places his lube in his dresser so it’s not just standing proud next to his bed. He then logs out of the website Gojo uses for his videos and wipes his history and bookmarks, which makes his stomach a little queasy, but it’s fine because he has his favorites downloaded. After, he tossed all his trash filled with cum stained tissues in the dumpster before sweeping, mopping, and spritzing his cologne in his room and around his dorm.
Then he takes a shower, trimming his overgrown pubes and shaving off his stubble before blow drying his long hair and styling it half up and half down. He looks good, but casual—wearing a pair of joggers (no underwear, because he won’t be needing them) and a loose fitting black tank top.
Shoko texts him about thirty minutes before Gojo’s set to arrive, most likely having heard the news from Utahime.
SHOKO: lollll are you seriously getting tutored by Gojo?? 🤭
SHOKO: make sure to pay attention instead of focusing on his non-existent crack.
Oh, Shoko. If only you knew.
GETO: 🖕
He watches some tv for a while, before remembering he has this rose candle he got as a gag gift one time. Geto finds it in the closet and places it on the coffee table, lighting it. He’s seduced plenty of people before, but he knew Gojo would be different. This isn’t a bar or a party. This is a study session. Geto needs to ease him into taking his pants off; he can’t just go full caveman on the poor guy.
Geto is washing his hands after lighting the candle when there’s a knock on his door. “Coming!” He yells, before shutting off the water and wagging his hands as he heads to the front door. There’s a giddiness to his steps, an excitement in the pit of his stomach.
This is it.
He’s going to fuck Gojo Satoru.
And since he’s studied every angle and way the guy has screwed himself on camera, it will be glorious.
Geto opens the door and takes in Gojo’s outfit. He’s in a pair of yoga pants and a cropped sweater, the back longer than the front, which rides up to show off his little belly button.
There’s a tattoo under there, Geto thinks, mouth already watering at the idea of being able to trace the art with the tip of his tongue. Fuck, he definitely knows what I want.
“Hey,” Gojo greets, smiling awkwardly and giving a little wave. He has a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, phone hanging from a keyring on the strap. “Sorry if I’m a little early. Homework took less time to do than normal, and well, it’s better to be late than to be early, y’know?”
“All good,” Geto nods, opening up the door wider and letting Gojo step in. The white-haired man is so focused on taking the scenery in, he doesn’t feel Geto’s eyes dipping to his ass.
“Nice place,” Gojo tells him. “I’m on the other side of campus. My work only covers dorming with another TA, so I don’t have as much space as you. You’re lucky.”
Geto mumbles some nothing reply, something about yeah, I’m so lucky, and starts walking to the kitchen, Gojo trailing after him.
“I’m okay where I’m at though,” Gojo sighs, still going on about his fucking living situation. “I room with Haibara. You remember him from high school, right?”
Geto pauses at the table, narrowing his eyes as Gojo takes a seat and politely rests his bag in his lap. “You didn’t go to my high school.”
Gojo flushes, chuckling nervously and rubbing his thighs together in a way that makes Geto almost forget what they were talking about. “No, but you, um…you come up in conversations sometimes.”
Geto raises an eyebrow.
“When I talk to him about my day and stuff,” Gojo tries to explain, but that sounds even worse because he and Gojo don’t interact outside of Gojo going ‘Let me tutor you!’ and Geto giving a measly grunt in reply. “He talks about how you guys used to be kind of close.”
Haibara and Geto were never close. They had some classes together, Geto was the person who got him to try smoking once and then was the same person to ban him from it when he almost choked to death from sucking in too much and panicking, but outside of those minor interactions, Geto hardly knew the guy. It made him feel kind of bad, but luckily Gojo switches the topic.
“I was thinking we could start by going over your mistakes on the last test!” Gojo happily supplies, pulling a thin folder and pencil pouch from his bag and smiling sweetly. You’d think he was doing something fun, not getting ready to speak about science. “Does that sound good to you?”
Geto gives a halfhearted shrug. “Sure. Do you want anything to snack on or drink, though?”
Gojo bites his nail, which is long and manicured and shiny and clean, like Geto knows the rest of his body to look. “Uh, sure. I’ll just take water, though. I’m thirsty.”
For cock, Geto hopes, because if he goes through a tutoring session without getting sucked, he may have to kill himself.
Geto gets Gojo a glass of water before settling in the seat next to his, spreading his legs open so their knees brushed together. Gojo gave him an awkward smile and “cheers” gesture with his glass before taking a small sip, his cheeks redder than Gojo’s ever seen them (in real life).
For the next thirty minutes, Geto tries his best to pay attention. He’s just doing this to get laid, but he may as well get some tutoring in. God knows he could use it.
It’s a little rocky at first, Gojo stumbling over words, backtracking and going on tangents, but once he gets into the grove of things, Geto actually understands some mistakes he made and how to fix them. And for a moment, he almost forgets his plan, until Gojo gestures wildly while making a metaphor and knocks his glass of water off the table and right into Geto’s lap.
It spills, obviously, staining the front of his sweatpants. Geto jerks back but Gojo, embarrassed, is already making it worse by putting his hands on Geto’s crotch.
“I’m so sorry!” Gojo exclaims, grabbing the glass and putting it back before dabbing his hands over Geto’s crotch. No napkins or anything, just his bare fucking hands. “It got everywhere!”
“Gojo,” Geto grits out, gripping Gojo’s wrist and squeezing it tightly when his hand gets close to brushing over his hard cock. “Please, it isn’t a big deal.”
“I’m normally not this clumsy, I swear,” Gojo chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “I just get nervous sometimes, and—”
Geto stands up. On purpose. Because like this, his crotch is only slightly lower than Gojo’s mouth, and with his cock this hard? Yeah. There’s no mistaking exactly how Geto feels about Gojo’s awkward behavior of trying to clean off his pants with no napkin.
“O-Oh,” Gojo stammers, eyelashes fluttering when he spots Geto’s boner. He bites his bottom lip and shrinks into himself, pressing the palms of his hands over his thighs. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Geto mutters, turning to get some napkins. He comes back to Gojo twirling a small piece of his undercut, his free hand curled into a fist at his side.
“I didn’t mean to-” Gojo speaks, then stops. Then he tries again. “It’s a normal bodily-” He stops again, and this time he squeezes his eyes shut and tugs at his hair, frustration written all over his face. “Sorry.”
“Hey.” Geto sits down and places a hand on Gojo’s knee, squeezing it gently. He isn’t even touching the other man’s skin, and yet he can feel the warmth through his pants. “It’s fine. There’s no need to apologize.”
“But I—” Gojo’s eyes shift down to his crotch, where his boner is still raging in his pants. If Geto’s being honest, turning someone as filthy as Gojo into a stammering, blushing mess is the ultimate turn on. Like he said, he always thought Gojo would look lovely in pink.
Geto’s lips curve, and that’s the moment when he strikes. “Gave me a boner?”
Gojo’s eyes go wide at the word and he leans back, turning to the paper. Before he can switch the subject, Geto continues on speaking.
“It’s hard not to get one,” Geto tells him. “Not only did you touch my dick, but like. It’s you, y’know?”
“Me?” Gojo squeaks, more of a sound than a word.
“C’mon.” Geto is now grinning, and he casually shifts his hand up and down Gojo’s thigh. “Don’t act so surprised, Gojo. You know what you look like.”
Gojo’s mouth parts, eyes following Geto’s thick fingers as they pet the inside of his thigh. “I don’t, though,” he says, looking dizzy. “It’s like—a whole science thing. We only know what we look like in photos and videos and mirrors, but it’s all different, so—”
“Sexy,” Geto tells him, the world falling out of his mouth in a soft whisper. He scoots himself in closer, going higher and higher until his hand can feel the heat radiating from between Gojo’s thighs. “You’re sexy, Gojo.”
“Oh.”
Gojo’s jaw snaps shut, his jaw moving beneath his skin, looking as though he’s about to explode. Geto grips his thigh and leans in, faces so close there’s less than an inch between them.
“I know your secret.”
Gojo’s eyes do their little flutter they do when he’s taken back. “What secret?”
“The videos you do,” Geto tells him, mouth salivating at just mentioning them. “You’re quite the entertainer, you know.”
Gojo looks down at his hand, lips curving downwards. “W-What? Is that why you wanted me to tutor you, because…because you know what I do?”
“Partly,” Geto lies, not wanting to scare Gojo off. If he wants to get his dick wet, he’s going to be smart about this. “But I really need to do better in class, too. It’s hard for me when you’re the one teaching…how am I supposed to pay attention when all I’m thinking of is how good you’d taste on my tongue?”
Gojo shudders when Geto uses his free hand to reach up and curl around his neck. It’s a gentle touch, hardly even there, but Gojo’s entire body goes stiff, his large eyes glossy as he makes eye contact with Geto.
Being this close, Geto can feel his self resolve slipping. There’s an animal in him that wants to sink its teeth into Gojo’s neck. To feel up every inch of his body. To bury itself inside of Gojo’s esophagus and make a home there. It’s blinding how much he wants him, and he’s scared if nothing happens soon, he may cry from frustration.
“I want to touch you,” Geto whispers, voice husky and deep. “Can I?”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Gojo whispers back, but he’s already pressing his chest toward Geto—and the man knows he’ll have Gojo blossoming for him like a flower before the night is over. “I’m like, your teacher. This could get me kicked from my program, and I’m supposed to be helping you get better.”
“If you want me to get better,” Geto growls. “Open up your legs and let me eat your insides. Maybe then I’ll wonder less how tight you are and more time paying attention to what’s on the board.”
Gojo moans softly and parts his thighs, not able to do anything but take it when Geto presses his fingers up onto the cloth covering his clit. Geto presses down and swallows Gojo’s whimper with his mouth, pressing down onto his lips, which are even more soft than he imagined them to be.
Geto rubs Gojo over his tight clothing, feeling his wetness soak into the thick material of his pants. His cock is leaking. He can feel the precum sliding down his tip, but he ignores it in favor of adjusting them. Geto grips Gojo’s chair by its side and shifts him so he’s facing Geto, never once stopping their heated kiss. Getting a hang of it, Gojo brings his shaky hands up and buries it in Geto’s hair, gripping it as their tongues collide, fiercely bullying each other until Gojo gives up and lets Geto explore his mouth.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna call out my name during those little streams of yours,” Geto tells him, Gojo panting against his mouth, their bodies getting hotter and hotter with each heavier pet. “You won’t be able to use those dildos of yourself anymore, baby. You’re going to cry for my cock and mine alone.”
Gojo lets out a high-pitched squeal when Geto grips the hem of his pants and yanks on them. Gojo has to lift his hips in order for it to come down his pelvis region, mouth parted and slick from spit as Geto gets on his knees to all but rip it off his legs. It takes some jerks before it’s finally off, showing off the small little thong Gojo wore today—lace at the top and so thin it disappears between the fat lips of his pussy.
“Fuck,” Geto groans, gripping Gojo’s thighs and forcing them open as far as they can go. Like this, his pussy parts slightly, sweet musk so alluring Geto has to restrain himself from burying himself nose deep. Gojo’s womb tattoo, much more vibrant in person, is on display, shifting with his abdomen as he breathes heavily. “I’m gonna cum inside you and then paint this goddamn tatto white.”
“O-Ok,” Gojo nods, chuckling slightly when Geto leans forward and presses a kiss to his tattoo. “I can handle that.”
Geto kisses his way from the left side of Gojo’s tattoo from the right, taking his time to give licks in between so he can taste the salt of his skin on his tongue. His dick feels ready to explode, but he doesn’t care when Gojo’s pussy is glistening from how horny he is. Once he gets to the end of the right, he works his way down, licking and kissing and nibbling over his pelvic bone.
Gojo relaxes in his chair, eyes half lid and hand lazily resting on Geto’s head, giving small sighs and moans every so often. Once Geto is face to face with his pussy, he uses his fingers to part the lips, slick and discharge drooling from Gojo’s opening and getting him all wet.
“God, you smell delicious,” Geto growls, pressing his nose up against the hole and inhaling deeply. He’s getting liquid on his face, but he doesn’t fucking care, not when something so soft and delicate and beautiful is right in front of him.
“Fuck!” Gojo squeaks, eyes twitching to the back of his head when Geto presses the fat of his tongue and sinks it into his cunt, stuffing it so far his face disappears between Gojo’s lips.
Geto’s eyes shut in pleasure and he uses his hand to trail up to Gojo’s clit, using his middle finger to press down and gently rub it.
Gojo moans out loud, back bending like a bow as he shuts his thighs around Geto’s head. The man between his legs just grips one of his thighs from the outside and licks, twirling his tongue and smearing it along Gojo’s insides, letting the pussy he’s eating drool slick all over his face.
Gojo makes a small uh sound, his cunt fluttering as he digs his nails into the table beside him and bends his knees to bring them up, core tight as he balances on his ass.
Geto drowns in the cunt in front of him, sloppy squelching noises sounding as he thrusts and swirls his tongue inside of Gojo’s hole, his brain hazy as he eats and eats and eats.
“I’m gonna cum,” Gojo whines, trying to tug Geto off of his cunt. Geto’s tongue exits with a pop, but he doesn’t go far before he latches onto Gojo’s fat clit and sucks; hollowing out his cheeks and slurping greedily, as though trying to milk Gojo of all he’s worth.
Gojo’s knee bangs against the table and he moans, cunt spurting slick. It pushes out of him and hits Geto’s neck, drooling down his neck and getting caught by the neckline of his shirt.
“Stop!” Gojo pleads, thighs twitching crazily as his abdomen tightens up. “Suguru I’m gonna—I’m—”
His words cut off with a soundless moan, his thighs squishing against Geto’s ears as he unleashes his orgasm all over the other’s face. Geto pulls off his clit and allows the liquid to spray all over him, opening his mouth and letting the droplets land on his tongue. While Gojo shudders through his orgasm, he slips his hand underneath his sweatpants to shove them down, letting it pool around his knees. He then fishes his cock from the opening of his boxer and grips it tightly, pumping himself before he feels his own release rear its head.
Gojo’s eyes are out of focus, confused when Geto stands. His back is now flat against the seat of the chair, legs up in the air, and Geto slots between his thighs easily. He grips one of Gojo’s ankles and fucks his cock between Gojo’s pussy lips once, twice, then three times before aiming it at his lower belly and letting go; thick, white cum spraying all over the vibrant blue tattoo.
Gojo watches the entire thing with hooded, wet eyes, his tongue slightly poking out of his mouth.
“I haven’t even gotten inside you and you already look fucked silly,” Geto gloats. He runs one of his fingers through the cum he left on Gojo before bringing it up to his mouth. “C’mon, open up.”
Gojo mindlessly opens his mouth and moans softly when Geto stuffs his finger in, eyes shutting as he sucks the cum off. His tongue is even softer than his lips, pink and gentle. Geto licks his own mouth watching Gojo, leaning down to pull him into a deep kiss when he pops off Geto’s finger.
Gojo kisses back just as deep, curling his fingers into Geto’s shirt and hugging him forward, humping his bare cunt against his cock. Strings of discharge stain Geto’s boxers, and he’s just as hard as he was before cumming—eager to fuck Gojo deeply.
“Let me fuck you,” Geto says against his lips, meeting Gojo’s small thrusts. “Please.”
Gojo pushes himself up on his hands, craving his neck. “Can we do it on your bed?” He asks, sounding meak. “I’m uncomfortable.”
Geto gives him a yes by planting his hands on each of Gojo’s ass cheeks and picking him up—the other man giggling as he wraps his arms around Geto’s neck and hooks his legs around Geto’s hips. He snuggles close to Geto and peppers kisses on the side of his face and neck, Geto making fast pace of getting them to the bedroom.
They fall onto the sheets together, lips meeting again, Geto’s hands loose on Gojo’s hips now. Gojo moans sweetly when he’s on his back and lets his thighs fall open, his wetness smearing all over the inside of his thighs.
“Can I suck you?” Gojo asks, turning his big blue eyes up on Geto.
“Fuck,” Geto gasps, feeling the wind knock right out of him at Gojo’s pleading look. “You can do whatever you want with eyes like those, sweet boy.”
Gojo grins almost shyly, biting his lower lip as they switch positions. Geto lies on his back after helping Gojo rid him of his shirt, cock bobbing up in the air impatiently as Gojo works his way down Geto’s body by sliding a path with his tongue.
He’s eager to get his mouth on Geto, ass up in the air as he grips the base of the cock in front of him and runs his tongue up the side. Gojo suckles on it, pupils practically in the shape of hearts as he lets his saliva bubble up and make everything slippery. He looks up when Geto grunts and runs his fingers through his hair, eyelashes so long they practically brush against his cock, looking at though he’s partaking in his #1 dream rather than just sucking cock.
“Fuck,” Geto groans, lengthening the word as Gojo brings his mouth to the head and pushes his tongue against the urethra, pre-cum like cream in Gojo’s mouth. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”
Gojo gives his reply by sucking Geto deep into his throat. His tongue is like silk as it makes its rounds around his cock, throat tighter than any hole Geto’s ever been in.
Geto chuckles around his moan, tightening his grip on Gojo’s hair and thrusting a bit into his mouth. It results in a squelching sound, Gojo squeezing his eyes as he focuses to relax his throat and breathe through his nose.
“Bet you would drop to your knees for any fucking cock, wouldn’t you?” Geto grumbles, trying to stay attached to reality as Gojo suctions his mouth around him and pulls all the way up only to push himself back down. “Tell me, do all your tutoring sessions end like this? Am I only failing because I didn’t feed you soon enough?”
Gojo’s swollen lips puff out, and he hums around Geto’s cock, eyes rolling to the back of his head, slight tears staining the corners. Geto pulls him off by his hair, Gojo inhaling sharply and panting with his tongue hanging from his mouth when Geto grips his cock and smacks it across Gojo’s cheek, the other man all but rubbing his face into it.
“Tell me,” Geto demands.
“No,” Gojo whispers, eyelashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly, heart eyes still on the cock rubbing itself all over his face. “No, just you. Only you.”
The way Gojo says the word only causes a fierce possessiveness to flare in Geto’s chest. There’s a lot of things he feels right now that he could say. That he wants Gojo to please him like this forever. That he never wants someone to see Gojo like this again. That he wants Gojo in a way that makes his heart feel infected. But he’ll never say it out loud, because this is just sex, and he knows its all the arousal in his system affecting his rationality.
“Get up,” Geto rasps, vocal chords sounding as though they’ve rubbed against sandpaper. “I need to get inside you now before I explode.”
Whether that be his dick, his brain, or his heart, Geto doesn’t know. Maybe everything, all at once.
Gojo climbs into Geto’s lap, his pussy damp and sticky from the release staining his pubic area. Geto licks his lips and pushes his hands up Gojo’s toned stomach until they’re directly underneath his chest.
“Do you want it to stay on?” Geto asks.
Gojo’s eyes soften at the question. “Do you want it to?”
“I don’t decide that,” Geto whispers, tracing light circles with the pad of his thumb underneath the hem of Gojo’s binder. “You do.”
Gojo hesitates before he shakes his head. “No, I—I want it off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Gojo breathes, before swiftly stripping his sweater off of his body. Geto doesn’t even get the chance to help him before pulling the binder off of him, red streaks from its tightness wrapping around Gojo’s body.
“You need to take it off more,” Geto mumbles, slightly concerned by how deep the indents on Gojo’s skin go.
“Well, it’s off now,” Gojo replies, gently taking one of Geto’s palms and holding it just a breath away from his chest. “Touch me. Please.”
Geto brings his hand up underneath Gojo’s small breasts, gathering them in his hands. They’re so little, they practically disappear behind the wide span of his palms.
Gojo’s breath hitches, and he tilts his pelvis down, clit catching on Geto’s cock. “I want you inside,” he desperately whispers, pushing his chest into Geto’s hands, pulsing when Geto’s hands grip them tighter. “Take me, Suguru.”
Geto flips them over so Gojo is on his back, gripping the underneath of Gojo’s thighs and hiking them up so his hole is on display. He grits his jaw and lines himself up, Gojo’s cunt hot on his dick.
“Say red if you need me to stop,” Geto tells him. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you may need it.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Gojo replies, winking when Geto looks up at him.
Geto leans down and presses a kiss to Gojo’s lip before he pushes in. They both groan into each other’s mouths, Gojo’s abdomen tightening, his hands reaching up to claw at Geto’s shoulders. He’s hot and wet and warm, like molten velvet, and Geto finds his head spinning as he pushes deeper and deeper. Small whimpers sound from Gojo, his cunt fluttering as Geto buries himself as deep as he can go.
“Fuck,” Gojo gasps, pulling his mouth off of Geto’s and leaning back into the bed. He looks even hotter like this than he does in his videos, eyes squeezed shut, arms held up so he can dig his nails into Geto’s shoulders. He pushes the side of his face into the pillow beneath him and pants, some drool building at the corners of his mouth. His back arches up, nipples sitting like two tiny pebbles on his chest. “God, you’re fucking big. I think I can feel you in my chest—what the fuck.”
Geto grins, squeezing Gojo’s love handles and pulling out only slightly before pushing back in. “Thought you liked them big.”
“Never—” Gojo swallows, and opens his eyes. They’re so clear, Geto feels like he’s looking into the center of a wine glass. “Never taken a real one this big, just—just toys.”
“Consider me flattered,” Geto hums, leaning down and pressing soft kisses along the curve of Gojo’s cheek. “Maybe when I get you nice and adjusted, I can take one of those toys and have them join me.”
Gojo’s cunt sputters, creaming along the girth of Geto’s cock. He shudders, eyes twitching, and Geto bites down on his throat, sucking a hickey in the center so everyone will know he was there.
“You like that idea, baby?” Geto asks, chuckling. “Taking two big cocks in one hole?”
“Y-Yes,” Gojo gasps, eagerly pulling himself up so his hands can lace behind Geto’s neck. “Please, you’re just—you’re just so still—can you—”
“Can I what?” Geto wants to hear him say it.
“Fuck me!” Gojo exclaims, tears dripping from the corner of his eyes. “Please, I need it, I—”
A moan cuts off his pleas when Geto pulls all the way out and thrusts in hard, all 8 inches of his cock spearing straight through Gojo’s cunt. He wails, something loud and pathetic, and Geto can’t handle it anymore. Gojo is so desperate for his cock he ends up wrapping his entire body around Geto’s: legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders, chest pushed flat against his, head hooked over his shoulder.
Geto grips his hips and fucks him fast, hard, deep. Gojo’s ass bounces with the rhythm, his cunt loud as nasty squelches echo in the room. He’s crying his heart out for more, more, please, and Geto’s cock is so close to bursting he doesn’t know how long he’ll last.
His hands end up finding purchase on Gojo’s ass, gripping it tightly as he pulls Gojo off his cock and then drops him back to the base, his cunt working with the movements. It loosens when Geto pulls out, only to siphon on his cock as tightly as possible when at the base.
Gojo pulls back so he can cradle Geto’s face and give him an open-mouthed kiss, their tongues twirling around each other and shoving into each other throats.
There’s nothing romantic about it; it’s honest to God fucking. Between Gojo’s whines and moans that sound like a genuine porn star, between Geto’s cock beating into his unprotected cunt, between their tongues all but drowning the other in spit—it’s raw, sexy, and desperate. Like they both yearn for each other in a way only the joining of their bodies can express.
“I’m gonna cum!” Gojo cries, tilting his head back and crying out when Geto presses him into the bed, adjusting them so Gojo is in an honest to God’s mating press. His balls slap against him, the skin on skin impact echoing in the small room. He twitches, head turning every which way, fingers gripping into the bedsheets as he lets his wails try to calm the orgasm building inside of him. “Fuck, Suguru—SUGURU!”
Geto buries his cock as deep as possible, the liquids from Gojo’s cunt spraying in every direction like a fucking water hose. The sight of Gojo’s mouth parting in surprise, his blue eyes glassy, his cheeks pink, looking like a goddamn wet dream is enough for Geto to unleash his second orgasm deep inside of Gojo’s guts.
Geto stuffs his face into Gojo’s neck and lets out a long groan, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he pumps inside. Gojo hugs him tightly, breathing fast, and it feels like they ride the wave of their orgasm for ages.
“You’re so fucking hot,” is all Geto can say when he pulls his cock from Gojo’s pussy, still twitching and spurting white cum across his folds.
Gojo pants and presses down on his lower tummy, whimpering when the biggest load Geto’s ever shot keeps spilling from his hole.
“Jesus,” Gojo says, looking dizzy at the mess Geto made between his legs. “Have you been saving for this or something?”
“No,” Geto says, shaking his head and sitting back on his knees. “Fuck. We have to do that again.”
Gojo looks up at him, eyes unfocused. “Now?”
Geto can’t help but laugh.
Gojo can’t stand for at least thirty minutes, which Geto makes worse by eating his own cum outside of Gojo’s cunt and then letting it fall from his lips to fall on Gojo’s tummy. He rubs it into his skin as though it’s lotion, and Gojo calls him a sick pervert. Geto tells him he is, and it’s only then he carries Gojo to the bathroom so they can shower together.
“Do you do this often?” Gojo asks when Geto is rubbing shampoo into his hair, lax where he gently rests against the wall, his pussy still dripping Geto’s load down his legs.
“Wash hair?” Geto asks, even though he knows exactly what Gojo means. “No. I don’t typically jerk off to my TA and then fuck him mid tutoring session.”
“I liked it,” Gojo whispers, his hand twitching where it rests in front of his bare cunt. “I’ve never—had sex with someone like this.”
Geto pauses, fingers crooked where its rubbing suds into his head. “You aren’t a virgin, are you?”
Gojo laughs. “No! No, I’ve had plenty of sex. Just with boyfriends, never…”
“I get you.”
It was both a relief and a disappointment Gojo wasn’t a virgin, Geto thought. On one hand, taking his V-card would’ve been the hottest thing to happen to him since he discovered Gojo’s website. On the other hand, that would’ve sucked if he accidentally like—tore a hole through his pussy, or something.
“I’m glad you liked it, though,” Geto says, filling the silence. “I, however, loved it.”
“Would you do it again?” Gojo asks, turning his head so his eyes are directly looking up at him. “Fuck me, I mean.”
And then, Geto’s reply triggers what will ultimately be the beginning to the end. “Yes.”