nanamiswidow
you've got it from here
shawnee | 25 | she/theynanami kento enjoyer mainly, resident evil second.
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Double cake 🍰
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red wine with him?
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“…and Broken Dreams”
Here’s the Satoru piece to go along with my earlier post🫶✨
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baby girl / nanami
wc: 1154
!! not proof read, sorry. + i'm dead, bye !!
! reblogs and comments/feedback are greatly appreciated! they motivate me to continue writing! :)
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the cry of your baby daughter interrupts your beautiful dream. with a small sigh you sit up and stretch, throwing the covers aside and before you can fully get up, a warm hand rests on your shoulder, stopping you. it's kento's hand, of course. you look over to him, a brow raised. "i'll take care of her. go back to sleep, love." he presses a small kiss to your shoulder and then gets up to go into your daughters room which is right across from yours. you smile, laying back down and getting comfortable beneath the sheets again. it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again.
kento takes your crying baby girl out of her crib and holds her close to his bare chest. he sits down in the rocking chair that's next to her crib, a small night light softly illuminating the room. he slowly rocks in the chair and gently rubs her back, humming a random melody. she calms down a few moments later and falls asleep quickly. kento chuckles to himself and softly kisses her forehead. he stares down at her tiny body and thinks back to the moment you told him you were pregnant. it is without a doubt one of the happiest moments of his life right after his daughters birth of course. when you told him that you were pregnant, kento wasn't scared for even a second. you are both secure and stable financially, so secure in your relationship and he knew you would be the best parents. the amount of love that spilled out of his body the second you showed him the positive pregnancy test was so overwhelming and he'll never forget the way he felt. he never thought he would be able to love like this, until his daughter was born and the love he felt not just for her but also for you, grew even stronger.
when she was born, kento cried happy tears. he didn't try to hide them or hold them back and he let all his emotions out while he held her against his chest during their first skin-to-skin contact. his tears were dripping down his throat and collarbones and he always made sure to wipe them away before they'd fall onto his daughters face. he swore he would never hurt her. he will love her unconditionally until the end of time. protect her from any harm. accept her always for who she is and who she will become. he'll always, always be there for her and he hopes to be his daughters first love. that he can show her to never settle for the bare minimum because she deserves the entire universe.
it was almost impossible to take his eyes off of her in her first moments and it is still almost impossible now. kento doesn't notice you coming into the room. you're standing next to the rocking chair, gently smiling at the scene next to you. you slowly and softly put your hand on his shoulder, hoping not to startle him. "kento?" he looks up at you with a small smile. "are you okay, love?" he asks. you nod and lean down to kiss his forehead. "i'm okay, are you? you've been gone for a while. thought i'd check on you." you answer him with a yawn. his smile grows as he listens to your tired, quiet voice and he grabs your hand, placing a soft kiss onto your knuckles. "i'm more than okay. she went back to sleep a few minutes after i picked her up but i kinda got lost in thought, i guess." he replies, looking at his baby girl again. she's sleeping with her mouth open, a bit of drool escaping at the side of her mouth. you both chuckle and you take your finger to softly wipe it away. "she's so beautiful." he whispers. "she is." you agree. she has kento's beautiful brown eyes and your nose and the smile is definitely yours as well. she doesn't have much hair yet but the small amount of hair on top of her head is the same color as kento's.
"you know," kento interrupts the silence. "one of the things i love most about her is that she was created purely out of love. all of your and my love for each other mixed together and created this beautiful life. she's living proof of our love and she's the most beautiful soul to ever exist. i love you both immensely." he confesses while still staring at his daughter, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. when you don't respond he looks over at you, looking down at your baby as well but tears are running down your soft cheeks. he takes his thumb and wipes them away. "you okay?" he asks a bit concerned. you nod, sniffling and wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him as close into your side as the rocking chair lets you. "it's just, what you said was sweet. and, you're right. she is our love and she's the most beautiful angel. i love her so much." you lean down to carefully and gently kiss your babies head. "and i love you too, ken. i love you so much." kento smiles and softly kisses your lips for a few moments.
he pulls away and wipes the last tear from your cheek. "we should go back to sleep, you must be tired." he says. you nod and stand up fully again, stretching your arms. "let's take her with us, i want to cuddle her." you yawn as he stands up slowly. he couldn't say no to that. you both walk back into your bedroom where you get in bed first. kento hands you the baby and gets in next to you leaving a small empty space between you both so your daughter can lay there. you hold her for a few more moments, holding her close against your chest and gently rubbing her back. when you hear kento yawn next to you, you put her down in the space kento left for her and he pulls the blanket over all of you. you both lay on your sides, facing each other and your baby. kento wraps his arm as best as he can around your hip, your legs tangled together and it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again.
kento smiles, he can't believe this is his life. his happy, peaceful life with his two girls by his side. his entire world right here next to him. he gently kisses the tiny, soft cheek of his baby girl and softly squeezes your hip every once in a while. he continues to look at his daughter for a while and doesn't notice his eyes closing and falling asleep. he dreams about having another baby with you and he'll definitely talk to you about it in the morning.
<3 @ playgrl0
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more fem gojo
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yay
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NA NA MI
twt link -> 🐥
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I enjoyed doing this too much 🥹
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Here's a little peace offering even though it isn't the best
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"In a world of boys he's a gentleman."
A belated happy valentines to my nanami simps <33 stay sweet and spicy and thank you for bringing so much love to my artworks <3
- Val
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Chapter 109
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— Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one.
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orange peeling boyfriends was trending at this time so i drew nanami peeling am orange because he would without hesitation btw
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Of Magic
note: whew dusted off the ole keyboard for this one. if i'm rusty, you gotta allow it. i love this one sm. because i love nanami kento. that is all.
pairings: dad!nanami x (fem) reader
contains: fluff. nanami being the best duh wbk. modern au.
You hear a faint scraping noise from the kitchen as you quietly enter your home, holding your breath while gently closing the door behind you. It's 9:53 PM, and although wishful thinking has you hoping the girls are fast asleep in their beds, you know they're probably waiting for you to come and kiss them goodnight. In your opinion, Kento outshines you in almost every aspect of parenting, but bedtime belongs to you. He just can't do stories like you can—nothing beats the silly voices you give to each character. Your voice range is impeccable.
However, it is late, and you've had multiple conversations with your children about not waiting up for you tonight; one when they had just woken up, another during breakfast, and the last reminder during the car ride to school before dropping them off. They know very well that you had a company event to attend outside of work hours and wouldn't be home until late at night. But still, a small (horrible) part of you wanted them to still be awake, just to hear their cute giggles and feel their tiny, warm hands wrapped around your neck in a tight hug.
"How'd it go?" Kento asks, closing the lid over the Tupperware filled with tonight's dinner, which looks (and smells) like beef and broccoli stir-fry. You stand in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face.
Instead of answering his question, you point to the food in his hands. "They ate the broccoli?"
Nanami turns to face you and frowns. "Of course they ate the broccoli."
"What?! They never eat broccoli when I'm around."
"That's only because you don't eat broccoli, honey. You're their hero; they wouldn't even touch chocolate cake if dearest mommy turned up her nose at it."
"Dearest mommy, huh," you repeat after him, a grin slowly spreading across your face. Kento wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily, pulling you into him and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
"They should be asleep—"
"Nice."
"But they're probably not," Nanami finishes. You lean your head back to look at him. The beginnings of a smile dance on the corners of his lips.
You fake gasp. "How naughty."
"Soooo naughty."
"I'll go check on them when I go up there to change my clothes." Kento lets go of you and runs a hand through his hair. Noting the exhaustion on his face, you add, "You should rest now that I'm home. I can pack the girls' lunches for tomorrow too."
He shakes his head. "They're already done, but did you know they're really into star shapes now? It was just hearts last week. I can do hearts. I did hearts like a pro, actually."
"Are stars really that hard to do?" You ask, tongue in cheek.
He shoots you a look. In your husband’s defense, he really did cut hearts into foods like a pro. Every single item that went into the girls’ lunch boxes that could be carved into the shape of a heart, was in the shape of a heart. You always watched Kento from the couch in the living room as he meticulously sliced and diced away to make his girls happy.
You pat your hand across one of his cheeks and coo, "You're the best dad ever, literally." You draw out the word literally, eliciting a snort from Nanami.
"I had to ban that word today."
Now it’s your turn to laugh—your oldest daughter learned the word 'literally' in school this week and hasn't stopped using it since. It's sort of hilarious how she sneaks it into every other sentence. You tilt your head to the side and reply in the most serious tone you can muster, "Thank you because it was literally driving me, literally, insane, literally."
A chorus of giggles erupts from the top of the stairs, followed by a thundering rumble of footsteps descending. The moment in the kitchen, interrupted.
Nanami shakes his head gently and sighs, "Hmm, I wonder if they’re awake."
You grab the back of his neck, yank him closer, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. "My babies are spoiled like little princesses. They need entertainment to go to sleep, and I am their jester. I bid you farewell."
"You’re going to read them a bedtime story?"
"Yes, I am going to read them a bedtime story..."
"Now? At 10:00 PM? And you call me soft..."
“You are, don’t even start.”
After a beat, Kento says softly, “You're so good to them, you know? They’re so lucky to have you.”
Hearing those words from him stops you in your tracks. They wouldn't mean nearly as much coming from anyone else as they do coming from Kento, simply because he is the best father.
He’s so patient, and kind, and understanding. He lets the girls wear whatever madness they want, and is completely fluent in their ramblings and mumbles— far better than you. He knows exactly how they like their oatmeal, and memorized the milk to cereal ratio they must have in their bowls or else the world stops for them; he knows exactly what to say when they're feeling upset to calm them down.
He learned how to bake white chocolate raspberry muffins because it’s their favourite. He learned how to do funky hairstyles just because a crazy hair day at their school was on the horizon. He even learned how to patch holes in their clothes instead of telling them not to lay and roll around in the wood chips at the park because he couldn't bear to cut into their fun.
If Kento didn’t know how to do something, he learned. He was always trying.
To you, your husband is a hard-working, dedicated, outrageously beautiful force of a man.
To your children, he’s nothing short of magic.
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just give me one more day 🌅
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double shift
— kento nanami x f!reader
summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?
word count: 4.2k
content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy
Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.
Today has been shit.
Capital S, Shit.
His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.
His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is.
You’re too fucking good for him.
And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.
And seeing you pregnant?
While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts.
And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom.
So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.
But he’ll fucking do it.
Of course he will.
“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
She’s finally asleep.
Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts.
“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.
You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen.
“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form.
He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”
“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.
For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully.
“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.
Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”
“I’m well aware of what he does.”
“Then why—”
“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.
And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.
You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days.
Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt.
“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach.
“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
It’s not fine.
It’s anything but fine.
It’s a complete fucking disaster.
Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you.
You’re fucking stunning.
And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time.
But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt.
Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach.
He needs to fucking leave. Now.
“I should go—“
“—do you want some tea?”
You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off.
He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh.
He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer.
His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips.
“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there.
Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”
As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly.
“What’s wrong? What can I do?”
You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”
Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top.
“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is.
“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”
Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”
“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”
He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts.
You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”
“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”
Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch.
But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop.
In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?
Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.
Fucking fuck.
What the fuck is he doing?
Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection.
And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants.
But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”
Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”
You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’.
He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt.
Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually.
But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable.
His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue.
“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.
“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest.
“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead.
And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Nothing.
Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze.
He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined.
He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his.
He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard.
And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you.
It’s filthy.
It’s so fucking filthy.
And maybe it’s wrong.
But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires.
It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it.
“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours.
“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits.
You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”
He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”
A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”
“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside.
“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit.
He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”
“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand.
Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin.
You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole.
And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while.
“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you.
“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind.
It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt.
Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”
Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels.
“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”
Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”
You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt.
“Is that too tight?”
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”
He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.
You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”
Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you.
“Are you okay?”
You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”
Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you.
“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips.
“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts.
A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”
If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger.
“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you.
“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”
You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.
“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls.
The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone.
Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”
Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”
“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”
He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him.
And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.
He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him.
Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless.
You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.
“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”
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Laying seaside with Nanami
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