Spiked Hope

Late night shadows draped Hajime’s dorm as he paced, sweating and unbelievably horny from Teruteru’s spiked feast. His cock was hard, straining against thin boxers. Nagito slipped inside with that unhinged smile. “Hajime, your ordinary despair is begging for hope. Let me deliver it.” Hajime snorted, skeptical. “Nagito, this is absurd even for you. Keep your luck and your hands to yourself.” Nagito’s fingers already traced the outline. “Nonsense. Your hope shines brightest when it bursts.” He stroked the hard length through fabric, slow and deliberate, fabric turning wet and dripping with each pass. Hajime shifted. “Stop, you’ll soak these. Laundry’s the last thing I need.” Nagito squeezed firmly. Hajime moaned incredibly loudly, body bucking. “Don’t do that!” he snapped, yet his hips chased the grip. Nagito laughed softly, hand sliding to cup Hajime’s ass while continuing the relentless squeeze and stroke. “Your mouth lies, but your cock tells the truth.” Panting, Hajime squirmed, mind flashing to a blowjob or more, every nerve alight. Nagito kept squeezing and stroking until Hajime came hard, thick spurts of cum escaping the soaked fabric. A deep kiss muffled the final cry, Nagito’s tongue stealing every desperate sound as they both trembled in the aftermath.