Through Me (The Flood) - Secret Baby Fic Simon Riley / Female Reader - 18+ Request(s): Sick Fics (1/2)

Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me

so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

Getting a hey girly text from Soap while ur dating Ghost must honestly be so devastating

sorry, this was born out of a need to indulge myself featuring: gaz, ballerina!reader, stalking, intrusive thoughts, delusion, mentioned SA and kidnapping

Kyle first spots you on the Piccadilly line in London's underground.

He's usually wary of public transport – would really rather walk the hour from Knightsbridge to Hammersmith than risk the inevitable unsavoury interaction bound to happen in an overcrowded tube – but it was late at night, he'd just spent his day sitting in a hotel lobby gathering intel for Price, and the idea of ducking down narrow streets in the blistering cold was the last thing he wanted coming to fruition. That's how he ended up in a (thankfully empty) train car anyway; hoodie up and hands stuffed deep into his pockets, thumb brushing over the handle of a switchblade.

He's focused on the shady character stretched across three seats adjacent to him when you happen to prance in. Perhaps prance isn't that accurate an account either, but it's hard to attribute much else to you when you're dressed like a character from one of his sister's childhood storybooks. Angelina ballerina, or something of the sorts – mismatched leg warmers, knitted bolero sleeving a black camisole, basketball shorts over nude-coloured tights, and dance booties that look like little puffer coats for your feet.

The duffel bag slung over your shoulder concerns him briefly – it's hard to look at carryalls the same after serving the military, he finds – but the tired look on your face pacifies any suspicions he might have of your intentions. Wouldn't be wise to execute an offensive when one of your operatives is weary, especially given they're the only agent in sight. Regardless, he's hit with a distinct trepidation that takes a while to name.

You slide past the figure he'd been observing early, hop over Kyle's boots as well, fingers clasped over your behind as if to protect yourself from any wandering hands. The feeling rippling in his chest worsens, yet it's only as you slot yourself onto a far-away seat is he able to recognise it.

You shouldn't be here this late. This isn't the place for you.

With your hair neatly pulled away from your face, he's given full reign to ogle at your darling features. Round cheeks. Hydrated lips. Pretty thing. His molars grind against each other. There are no doubt men on this train that'd want to take advantage of that. Press your mouth open with a thumb on your tongue, rub themselves raw just to see cum decorate your lashes and drip over your brow. Barrack talk, the type of shit he hears floating between his comrades-in-arms when missions drag a little too long. Perversion brought on by desperation.

The intercom dings, and the lady with the soothing voice announces their arrival to Hammersmith. His stop, yet the thought of getting off and abandoning you is enough to keep him stuck to his seat. His stomach upturns as possibilities occur to him like frames in a technicolor film; none pleasant, all ending with you tied up in the trunk of some random van. Some part of him recognises his paranoia, the ridiculousness in his attachment to a perfect stranger (which chides him in a voice eerily similar to Price's, all gruff vowels and whispered consonants), but it does not change the fact that when the doors open to his station, he does not move.

Yeah. He stays on so long as you do – which fortunately is not an extensive length of time. You collect your stuff one stop later, standing to wait at the door once the lady announces Acton Town. He doesn't get up until you're a few seconds out though, slipping through the closing panels of the entryway to follow a few paces behind your heel. Up the escalator and down the block.

The night air nips at his nose, chilling his knuckles so they creak if he curls them. Are your nipples knotted under your layers? Or would they need the help of his fingers to perk up? His throat stiffens. He shakes the thought from his head.

You make a turn. Kyle stops for a second, breathes in, before veering left behind you. Heading towards the west part of town, now. It's a good place to live, all things considered. Still, he wonders if you deadbolt your doors, if you keep yourself safe online. You seem smart, but there are people who won't rest until they get their way. People like the one's he deals with at work – amoral men with biceps that could crush your head. Rotten, horrible men who are only rotten and horrible to cope with the tasks assigned to them. Depraved enemies, depraved friends. Only difference between the two being which flag they fight for.

You throw a look over your shoulder, shoulders shrinking as you wrap your arms tighter across your chest. He looks around, seeking the threat you seem to be so put off by. Nothing but brick-and-mortar storefronts and flattened cigarette butts.

He's compelled by the urge to shush you, to scratch your back as he tells you that there's no need to worry. He'll walk you all the way home. Make sure you get nice and situated, listen for the tell-tale lock of your deadbolt, watch for the dimming of your light. He'll stay until you fall asleep, then walk back to where he came from, take the returning line to Hammersmith – so when he flops back down into his own bed, he'll be reassured by the knowledge that you're safe a mere 4 miles away.

Might take a shower before then, though. Your arse looks great when you're speed-walking like this, pronounced even behind the loose material of your basketball shorts. He hopes the image remains as vivid when he's attending to the heavy mass between his legs later.

Kyle halts right in his tracks.

What is he doing?

You're nearly running now, shrinking away from him at an exponential rate, and duck another corner when you look back to see that he's no longer in pursuit. Completely out of sight.

His Captain’s voice comes to life once more, echoing in the part of his brain he has yet to compartmentalise.

You draw the line wherever you need it, Sergeant.

bf who asks “you want a treat??” while unbuttoning his pants

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭!

synopsis: first time at the gynecologist? don't worry, dr. nanami kento will take good care of you!

contains: DARK CONTENT, afab!reader, fem!reader, naive virgin!reader, gynecologist!nanami, medical malpractice, age gap (reader is in their 20's, nanami is divorced and in his 40's), dom/sub undertones, pet names (mostly sweetheart), tiny bit of obsession on both ends but nothing too out of pocket, masturbation (f&m), slight coercion, dubcon due to power imbalance, virginity loss, glove kink?, sir kink, praise kink, fingering, pussy inspection, pussy spanking, squirting, oral (f&m), subtle cock worship?, allusions to mommy & daddy issues, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!!!), breeding kink, kento is a big fat LIAR :P, allusions to babytrapping, slight bit of aftercare, they're matching each other's freaks 🫡

wc: 10.2k (help me)

a/n: i don't know what came over me... anyways happy belated birthday to my man <3 partially inspired by this delicious wonderful amazing scrumptious fanart!!

PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!!

minors, ageless and empty blogs will be blocked immediately!!

the air of the doctor’s office was permeated with the smell of hand sanitizer, the leather underneath your thighs feeling stickier by every minute that ticked by.

‘the first visit will be fine, they won't do anything.’ that's what you've been told by friends and family after telling them you finally confirmed your first gynaecologist’s appointment online. the website was easy to navigate and seemed inviting enough, the fact that the practice was basically across the street just a nice bonus. at least that way, you could retreat in shame as soon as possible.

you had already filled out the initial assessment, your hand shaking while you wrote your information down.

adjusting your posture, the chair creaked underneath you while you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. taking deep breaths and repeating to yourself that you're fine, it's normal in your twenties, that you would've needed to go at some point.

just get it over with.

your eyes snapped open when a smooth, deep voice called out your name. you jumped to your feet with a small smile, nodding to his questioning tone. “that's me.”

“follow me, please.”

the white coat did nothing to hide the doctor’s broad back, his greying hair was slicked back with round glasses perched atop. his cologne wafted over to your nose, filling it with a pleasing scent. your heartbeat picked up with every step you took towards the examination room and you felt a bead of sweat run down your back.

he closed the door behind you and motioned for you to sit across the table. you settled into the chair, fiddling with your fingers nervously. he sat down across from you, typing something quickly. it allowed you to focus on the doctor before you.

his tired brown eyes, smooth sharp nose with another pair of rectangular reading glasses on top. his face was adorned with the tiniest bit of stubble, casting a subtle shadow. his hands were smooth with well-groomed nails. he was wearing a white polo with the buttons unbuttoned, likely due to the heat, showing a little of his chest hair. the whole view had you squirming in your seat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you were feeling deep in your tummy.

you quickly snapped out of your daze when he turned to you with a warm smile.

“i’m dr. kento nanami, i’ll be taking care of you today. is this your first time with us?” he spoke, folding his hands in his lap.

you nodded. “first time ever, actually. i’m a little nervous,” you giggled, “it's probably unusual for someone in their twenties to see a gynecologist for the first time.”

he hummed along with your statement. “not at all. we see that more often than not, truthfully. is there any specific reason for your visit?”

“uhm, h-how do i say this?” you stuttered. “well, my mother told me to since i’m in university now and i, uh, want to be sexually active.”

a lump formed in kento’s throat, mouth suddenly feeling dry. a pretty little thing like you must have guys lining up to take you and here you were openly admitting that you're a virgin.

just his luck.

“is there anything specific you’d like to talk about? i’m sure you've had sex ed in school,” he chuckled and felt a wave of relief wash over him as you nodded. his smile widened just a smidgen, showing his perfectly lined up teeth.

“no anatomy lesson necessary. i've been considering the pill, since i've heard a lot of college guys like to have sex ‘raw’?” your voice spiked at the last word, confusion evident in it.

“mhm, with no condom, yes. that seems to be popular nowadays. especially with people your age and with strangers too,” kento tutted, shaking his head in disbelief. “while the pill might protect you from unwanted pregnancies, not 100% might i add, it's recommended to use condoms as well. they protect from sti’s, which is usually an unwelcome byproduct of having intercourse with strangers.”

your reaction was immediate. you shuddered visibly, amusing kento. he typed on his keyboard again before turning back to you.

“who knows where these college brats have had their dicks, hm? you should be careful. you can take some condoms from the front desk when you leave,” he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“well,” he clicked his tongue, “since this is your first appointment, i won't do a vaginal exam. i wouldn't want to overwhelm you and then you're even more scared and never come back. however, i do want to check your breasts, just in case.”

he got up, smoothing down his pants and sanitizing his hands.

“do you know how to check your chest for lumps?” he asked. nodded when you shyly shook your head.

“i’ll show you, so you can do it yourself. it's important to know how to check so that if you find a lump, we can act accordingly. you can do this in the shower or when you're getting dressed. whenever, really. please take off your bra and shirt.”

he motioned for you to stand up and turned away as you freed your breasts from the confinement of your clothes. you cleared your throat to signal that you were ready. you averted your gaze in shame and in that beat, missed how kento’s pupils dilated as he looked at your chest.

your nipples started to harden with the cold air around you (was the ac on? it felt like it was freezing) and you felt your face getting hot in embarrassment. kento stepped closer to you, his back bending to adjust to your height.

“apologies, my hands are a bit cold,” he mumbled, barely audible. before you could register what he said, you felt his cold skin against yours. you gasped and flinched, your skin rising with goosebumps. kento apologized again, smoothing his hands down your chest.

it felt so foreign to have someone else touch your breasts, so intently too. his brown eyes were glued to the way the fat jiggled when he let go, how squishable and – oh, how soft it was underneath his rough fingertips.

he was speaking to you in a low tone but your brain turned it into white noise. you were too focused on the way your pebbled nipples started to harden even more and how your panties were starting to stick to your cunt.

your eyes were glazed over and kento knew, of course he did. he knew that nothing he was saying was actually reaching your cognitive center. his fingers continued working through the tissue of your chest, prodding and squishing wherever necessary. when he pulled back, his cold hands brushed against your nipples and you let out a pathetically aroused squeak. you felt your skin prickle with embarrassment and quickly covered your top half again.

your doctor sanitized his hands again before sitting down on his chair, motioning for you to sit. you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your thighs not so subtly rubbing together to alleviate some of the pressure. kento typed and spoke at the same time, seemingly unaffected.

“your chest is absolutely okay, no lumps, no abnormalities. not that you had any reason to worry,” he smiled warmly.

“i won't put you on the pill just yet, since i haven't done an ultrasound or physical examination yet. we will do that next time.” he looked at you intently. “if you're comfortable, that is. all in your own time. until then, please refrain from any sexual activity with others.”

you nodded, a meek “yes, sir” escaping your chapped lips. he let out an approving hum, typing away at his keyboard.

“i-is that your wife?” you quietly asked, pointing at the photo on his desk while trying to ease some of the awkwardness. kento stiffened, suddenly aware of the frame standing proudly in his vicinity.

“ex, um, ex-wife, we got divorced not too long ago.” he immediately took the photo, putting it face down and giving you a tense smile. you started sweating, apologizing profusely and looking at him through your lashes for making him upset.

but if only you knew how hard kento was underneath that desk. he hasn't felt this much excitement ever since he got divorced, that wound still fresh and stinging. his cock throbbed at the thought of you listening to his every word, being so obedient. he discreetly adjusted his boner and suppressed a groan. your doctor gave you a smile, ignoring the sweat that started settling down on his brow.

“please make an appointment for next month with my dear assistant. please make sure to think about the very likely possibility of me having to perform an ultrasound and a physical exam and get comfortable with it.”

you nodded, getting up to leave the suddenly claustrophobic room.

“i’ll see you next time, thank you, doctor.”

next month’s appointment and the one another month after that rolled around, passing without a hitch. he would perform a regular chest exam, not paying your reactions any mind. seeing the dark circles underneath his eyes, you figured that divorce stress probably caught up to him, making his breath heavier and hands shaky.

two months after your first appointment, you finally revealed to be ready to go further with the examinations. his eyes lit up just slightly, giving you a small smile. “alright, i’ll be seeing you soon then.” his voice sounded tired, almost as bad as he looked.

“see you next month, doctor. thank you for your time.”

next time came faster than you expected. with uni courses and a part-time job taking up most of your time, you almost missed the bright red spot on your calendar. the night before your next appointment with dr. nanami, you tried to will yourself to sleep, but your body was on fire. he’d be the first one to see you that intimately and it made your tummy burn with both anxiety and excitement.

‘he doesn't see you that way, stop worrying. nothing’s wrong with you. it's just a physical exam. he sees that all day, it's just his job,’ you thought to yourself, 'you're not that special, you’re just a touch-starved virgin. he doesn't think about you that way. right?’

wrong.

inside his own four walls, a little bachelor pad if you will, your very gynecologist was fisting his cock to the image of you. replaying your last appointments with him, the way you obediently listened to his every word. how soft and squishy your tits felt under his fingers, how you squeaked when he ‘accidentally’ brushed his fingertips against your nipples. he couldn’t stop his mind from going further, fantasizing about how next time, he’d be seeing you in all your glory.

what would you look like spread out in front of him? would you make any sounds when he examined you?

all these questions had his mind reeling, imagining how he’d fuck you on his exam chair, your legs up in the air and hands clawing at him. the image of your soft breasts jiggling with every thrust sent him over the edge, hot cum painting his fingers and lower abdomen.

kento wanted to be the one to have you first, to ruin you for every other man that encountered you. he wanted to be the one to claim your mind and body for the first time. and he’d make sure to make you feel good. who else would know how to, if not him?

he’d just have to make you trust him.

the day rolled around, the smell of hand sanitizer slowly becoming familiar to your senses. you tried your best to ease the nerves that were creeping up to you. you wore a skirt for easy access, debating on whether to put on nice panties or not (what would he think if he saw your nice underwear? would he even care?).

the familiar voice called out to you, kento giving you a small smile.

the beginning of the appointment was the same as the first time, the nervousness of him palpating your chest easing a little. the arousal however was still evident, gluing your panties to your crotch. he walked you over to a patient couch covered with thin paper, motioning for you to lay down for the ultrasound. you did as told, sliding up your shirt and pulling down your skirt and panties just a bit.

just enough for kento to see the little bow on your panties and the rise of your pubic bone. it got him flustered enough to feel his cock jump a little in his pants. clearing his throat, he reached over to tuck a little paper towel underneath the waistband of your skirt with shaky hands.

“the gel will feel a little cold. i’m just going to look at your bladder, uterus and ovaries to check if everything’s alright,” he explained before squirting some gel onto your lower tummy.

you flinched at the coldness, feeling goosebumps rise over your skin. you squirmed to get comfortable before feeling the ultrasound wand touch your skin. he slid the gel around to cover more surface before gently pressing down, adjusting the depth on the machine.

it was quiet, lest for the sound of your nervous breathing and a few gentle hums coming from the doctor. he showed you the screen, explaining your inner anatomy to you. you barely registered anything past “it all looks good”, focusing on his hands and how approving he looked at you. he looked better than last time, eyebags losing their grey color and his face gaining some color back.

“seems like everything is fine. let me clean you up and we can continue with the vaginal exam. unless you are still not comfortable with it?” kento spoke, wiping down your tummy with the utmost care, attentive enough to sneakily slide the paper towel just below your waistband. you shook your head as you covered yourself and sat up slowly.

“i'll have to get it done sooner or later, so i might just get it over with,” you chuckled, the slight shake in your voice not going unnoticed by kento.

“i will not force you to take it. if you truly don't feel comfortable with a vaginal exam just yet, we won't do it.”

his tone and gaze were firm, but gentle enough for you to not be intimidated. his cold hand was on top of yours, thumb moving across your skin.

“if i cross your boundaries now, you will not be able to trust me. what kind of doctor would that make me if cross my patients’ boundaries, hm?” he asked, his brown eyes zeroing in on your burning face. you swallowed hard, trying to keep your attention on his face and not on the bulge that was basically staring at you.

“a bad one, right? so you have to trust me. i understand it can be hard, especially since i am a male doctor and you're not experienced with gynecologists at all. but i can promise you, i only have your best interest at heart.”

you felt your heart thump heavy against your ribcage, sweat accumulating on your lower back. it was hard to accept, but for some reason, the reassuring touch and tone of the older man had you melting under his gaze.

“it's fine. i guess i’m just a little nervous,” you giggled, smoothing your skirt down your legs. kento stared at you for a few, seemingly infinite, beats before turning towards his cupboard of instruments.

“alright. it won't take too long. please take off your shoes and underwear in the little room right there and come back to me when you're ready.” he smiled warmly, motioning for an unassuming door right next to his desk. “you can leave your valuables in there, it's only accessible from here.”

you nodded, getting up and closing the door behind you. the space was indeed tiny, cramped even. you barely had space to move around. taking off your shoes, you debated on keeping your socks on or not. but the linoleum beneath your toes felt too cold and unwelcoming to leave your feet uncovered.

sliding your hands under your skirt, you cringed at the feeling of your underwear sticking to your folds. slowly peeling it off, you felt the resistance and let out a tiny whine.

you hoped he wouldn't notice how aroused you had gotten or at least not mention it. it's normal, right? nothing to worry about. totally normal.

you stepped out, closing the door behind you. kento sat on his rolling chair, legs spread comfortably. thank god his pants somewhat concealed his hard-on.

“please, no need to be nervous,” he voiced reassuringly, motioning to the scary looking chair in front of him. he had taken off his coat, showing off his toned biceps and veiny underarms. you sat down, leaning back and taking a deep breath before putting one of your legs into the stirrups. he adjusted the height of the chair before signaling for you to put your other leg up as well.

“may i?” he asked before gloved hands gently grabbed underneath your buttocks and slightly pulled you towards him. you squirmed to feel even just a little more comfortable in this absolutely uncomfortable position. kento sucked in a harsh breath while his eyes focused on the way your pussy glistened underneath the fluorescent light. you looked even more delicious than he had imagined. the skirt flipped up just added a perfect backdrop to the vision that was you.

you looked away in shame, feeling a burning from your chest to the tips of your ears. it did not help your case that your doctor was so attractive, you could feel your arousal escape your hole. praying that he wouldn't say anything, you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“okay, your vulva looks good, healthy color and tissue. i’m gonna take a speculum and spread your vaginal entrance a little. i’ll take a look and do a cervical swab. it might feel uncomfortable and the swab might sting a bit but it's not going to take long, i promise.” his soothing voice reached your ears and you looked between your legs to find your doctor intently staring at you. you let out an affirming hum and tried to focus on the ceiling.

the speculum felt cold between your legs and you jumped at the feeling of metal. a hand on your thigh soothed you back into position. as he inserted the lubed up instrument, you could feel your tummy burning in embarrassment. the swab did sting but hearing that your insides looked perfect soothed your nerves a little. he slowly pulled out the metal, setting it aside before turning back to you.

“i have to palpate the inside of your vagina as well, to feel if there are any deeper tissue abnormalities. is that okay with you?” kento questioned, his tone forcing you to look at him again. you gave a shy nod, not trusting your voice at all. he hummed, murmuring something under his breath that you couldn't understand. he squirted some gel onto his gloved fingers (were they always that thick and long? how are they gonna fit?) before gently pushing one in. you let out a panicked yelp, covering your mouth with your hand.

your doctor let out a chuckle, his own heart threatening to burst out of his chest at your cute reactions. he could feel his cock throb painfully in the confinement of his pants, feeling lightheaded at the pure pleasure he was getting out of feeling and hearing and watching you.

you squeaked out a tiny “sorry” while getting used to the sensation of something other than your own fingers inside you. dear god, it was someone else’s finger inside your cunt and you almost creamed on it upon insertion. how embarrassing.

‘get yourself together,’ both of you thought simultaneously. thank god, you couldn’t look into kento’s brain going berserk.

you felt the digit prod and poke around your insides before another joined the team. you felt your hole stretch around the doctor’s gloved fingers and you felt shame (or pleasure?) boiling in the pit of your stomach. his other hand came on top of your lower tummy, gently pressing down. you felt him press against a spongy spot inside you and a pathetic whine escaped your throat.

“everything seems to be fine, nothing out of the ordinary. feels good?” kento taunted lowly, almost condescending you for falling apart so easily. a little “mhm” made it past your lips.

“answer me properly, sweetheart.”

you panted, looking down at kento, who looked flushed himself. his pupils were blown wide, a few graying strands falling into his eyes. his lips were parted and slicked with drool. his gloved fingers still moved inside of you, the hand on top of your tummy sliding down just a smidgen.

“feels good… sir,” you whimpered, shyly testing out what he was trying to allude to. kento gave you a small smile, seemingly satisfied with your answer. his fingers started moving a little faster, the gel slowly liquifying and making the stretch more bearable. there was a lewd squelch coming from between your legs and you could feel your arousal run down between your ass cheeks.

“fuuuck,” you cried out, noise muffled by your hand. kento's fingertips pressed against that spongy spot in your walls again, the pressure building even more. his thumb gently pressed against your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it and intensifying your pleasure tenfold.

“such a filthy mouth on such an innocent girl,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss against your knee.

“ah, mhm, i think i-i’m gonna-” you whined, grabbing onto his thick forearm. before kento could even say anything, he felt your walls clench tightly around his fingers. your back arched and you pressed your hand against your mouth to stifle the very loud moan that left your drooly lips.

your pussy tensed rhythmically around his thick digits and he slowed his movements, letting you ride out the high. your hips moved against his fingers, seemingly having a mind of their own.

you let out a small hiccup when he pulled out, examining your cum on his latex gloves before popping the fingers into his mouth. he let out a groan at your taste, keeping his gaze fixated on your face. your hair was sticking to your forehead, drool slipping out from the side of your mouth. a sight to behold. your eyes were unfocused but you were conscious enough to watch him lick his fingers clean before tossing the gloves into the trash.

“delicious,” he mumbled, adjusting his boner and letting out a low moan. “such a sweet thing. do you even know what you look like down there? have you ever looked at yourself? especially right now?” he asked before rummaging through his drawer to pull out a handheld mirror.

he held it between your legs in an angle that you could watch him. his cold hand slid up your still restrained leg and you watched your leaking hole clench. he explained your most intimate anatomy to you, sliding his ungloved fingers around your twitching hole and swollen labia before finally settling on your clit.

“and this here,” he teased, circling around the hood, “is the epicenter of your pleasure. the clitoris has at least 8,000 nerve endings, if not more. but this is only the part that is visible, the spot where i pressed on the inside is your g-spot, the internal part of it. utilizing both of them gives you the most pleasure, to the point where you could ejaculate or squirt.”

his teasing touch, paired with the stoic and almost condescending tone of his voice, had your hips moving against him, trying to chase some more of that euphoric feeling with your eyes threatening to shut.

a harsh slap against your clit had you crying out. “keep looking, i’m explaining here,” he tutted, adjusting his position so you could see your cunt even better in the mirror. you looked down, panting and smelling your own arousal. you looked into the little reflection of your swollen pussy, watching with heavy eyes as he started explaining again. his touch was gentle but firm enough for you to yearn for more.

he spread your folds, showing off your glistening bud and fluttering hole. “such a beautiful pussy. so sweet, too. but you still have a lot to learn about yourself,” he mused, backing off. you whined, pleading for– you didn't even know what exactly.

he turned his back to you, collecting a few paper towels and wiping his fingers off. gathering a couple more, he turned back to you, wiping your sensitive vulva down.

“everything looks and feels healthy. you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he smiled warmly at you, acting like nothing happened. he was gently lifting your legs out of the stirrups and setting them down onto the floor. he helped you sit upright, telling you to go slow so you don't feel dizzy. kento held your hand as you stand up on shaky knees, flattening down your skirt as you made your way back to the tiny room to tidy yourself up.

‘you look like a whore,’ you heard your mother’s voice in the back of your head as you smoothed down your hair, trying to make yourself look a little more presentable.

you put your panties back on, cringing at the icky feeling of cold arousal and discharge against your hot skin. you quickly put on your shoes and exited the small stuffy room. kento was back at his desk, looking just the tiniest bit disheveled with some of his hair sticking out where it shouldn't. he gave you a small smile as you sat down, waiting for him to speak with fiddling fingers.

“don't worry, this is all confidential. after all, i’m your doctor. i do have a request for you. to get a little more comfortable with yourself and your pleasure, i am asking you to keep a diary. similar to a regular one, you will write in it every day. i would like for you to keep it on you at all times. what i want you to write in it is quite simple,” he spoke calmly and professionally, in contrary to his racing heart and twitching cock beneath the fabric of his pants.

“i want you to write down every time you feel aroused, why you feel aroused and when you masturbate and how. and please be completely honest. if you don't know how to pleasure yourself, watch porn or just touch yourself. just figure out what feels good for you. also please write down what you're thinking of. it will all be confidential. i know this may seem like a lot but i’d like for you to make regular appointments every or every other month.”

you squirmed in your seat, feeling a flush down your neck. “will you be reading it, doctor?”

he smiled. “yes, why are you asking? i’d like to help you figure out what you like if you want to be sexually active with others. it's very important to know your preferences beforehand so you can decide what feels good and what doesn't.”

the adrenaline from the orgasm was still clouding your brain. you gave him a small smile yourself. “so i need to use my pretty handwriting if you're going to read it, sir.”

the tone of your voice paired with the innocent look on your face had kento’s brain going haywire. you were acting as if he didn't just give you the best orgasm of your life on his examination chair. he just wanted to put you in his pocket, keep you to himself forever.

he grinned, adjusting his hard-on. this time not so discreetly, making your mouth water. “i’ll see you next time, take care.”

as soon as you left the doctor’s with a new appointment, kento locked himself into his office. he hastily pulled his pants down just enough for his fat cock to spring out, mushroom tip profusely leaking precum. his hand slowly made his way from the base to his leaky tip, shuddering as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. the appointment replayed behind his eyelids, the memory of your pretty little cunt burned into his brain. he remembered the little sounds you'd made, the softness of your skin, the smell of your arousal. all of it.

he imagined eating you out, getting even more of a taste of your sweet pussy. he wondered if he could actually make you squirt, maybe even on his face. he fantasized about sinking his thick cock into your tight heat, how snug you'd wrap around him. you were so wet from just a few touches. how good would you feel if he made you cum a few times first? if he prepped and stretched your virgin cunt out to take all of him to the hilt?

just the image of his cock bottoming out in your tight pussy had him cumming with a pathetic whine all over his fingers.

the next few months, you spent your time diligently keeping your diary, writing down every single horny thought you had. you’ve had a few more appointments, those going by without a hiccup. it was always the same routine. have some small talk, breast exam, ultrasound every other month and a vaginal exam as well. there was only two appointments that stuck out to you.

the first one was when a medical student was shadowing kento, watching your appointment (with your consent, of course) with hawk eyes. he was taking diligent notes about what kento said, what he did, how he communicated with his patients. you were his special case though and he couldn’t resist sneakily curling his fingers against your walls when his student wasn’t looking. pressing his finger against his lips to shush you when you squirmed as the pads of his gloved fingers pressed against your g-spot repeatedly. you had spent the rest of your appointment acutely aware of the extra set of eyes watching you.

the second one was right before your appointment. you were waiting to be called in when you saw a girl about your age walk by the waiting room to gather her jacket. she was making a voice memo for someone. you weren’t really paying attention but hearing her say how hot and charming the doctor was had your ears perking up and your heart rattle with jealousy. you were cold the entire appointment and of course, the ever attentive doctor noticed right away. you wouldn’t tell until he drew two sweet orgasms out of you on his chair, taking advantage of your fuzzy brain. he chuckled when you finally confessed to feeling jealous and he assured you that nothing happened, he wasn't giving anyone else your special treatment. he just couldn’t help how people see him. he spent the next half hour sucking on your nipples and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you to make you feel better.

well, only a month into your diary writing did you actually try to get yourself off after spending the whole day fantasizing about your hot older doctor and how his fingers alone made you feel so good, you wondered what his dick would feel like.

as soon as you got home from your classes, you rid yourself of your clothes and settled onto the bed. you had masturbated before, orgasmed before but it had felt so different, so much more intense with dr. nanami. was that how it would feel all the time with another person?

you started touching your neck, letting your nails scrape over your hot skin. you closed your eyes with a sigh, imagining it was kento’s big hands touching you instead. you could feel your pussy throb at that thought and slid your hands down to your chest. gently squeezing the fat of your breasts, carefully rolling your perked nipples between your fingers. you whimpered, your hips moving as if there was something to grind against.

one of your hands reached down, sliding up your thigh and feeling the radiating heat from your leaking cunt. one tentative swipe of your finger against your folds coated it in your essence, the musk filling your nostrils. you open your eyes, inspecting your finger before putting it in your mouth tentatively. it didn't taste bad, just a little unusual. you'd have to try again after cumming.

your hand resumed its former position between your legs. your finger swiped through your wetness again before settling on your clit. just a simple touch had your skin on fire, your thighs twitching slightly. closing your eyes again and leaning back against the pillow, you imagined your doctor’s big finger drawing small circles on your nub. you imitated his motion, feeling your hole clench around nothing. a low whine escaped your throat, a whine of his name. in the comfort of your own home, you could let the thoughts of having your doctor take your virginity run rampant.

another finger joined, adding more pressure to your clit and gathering more wetness onto your digits. you pinched your sensitive bud just like your nipple and your hips bucked into the air.

“o-oh fuck, feels so good,” you moaned, sliding your fingers against your clitoral hood in tandem. “ha-ngh aah, oh my god,” you stammered before slowly lifting your hand and flattening it. smacking the pads of your fingers against your cunt, you felt how wet you truly were, feeling a few drops hit your thighs.

“so good, so fff-fucking good, sir!” you responded to no one but kento’s voice in your head, asking if you were feeling good. you were basically talking dirty to yourself. who cared? it felt good, it made your head spin and your pussy throb underneath your fingertips.

your already lubed fingers slowly slid into your hole, feeling it flutter around them, while your other hand made its way to your clit. it was clumsy, unfamiliar but oh, did it feel good.

you were so close you could taste it. the mental image of kento between your legs, his fingers reaching deeper than yours ever will and his breath fanning over your cunt sent you over the edge. your mind went blank, thighs clenching shut and a loud whine of kento’s name coming from your chapped lips.

it felt good, although a little unsatisfying because you couldn't reach that spot without your wrist cramping up after a few minutes. you pulled out your fingers with a wet squelch and slowly putting them in your mouth, tasting yourself again. you still didn't understand how kento could say you were sweet but it felt good to lick your fingers clean with the thought of his fingers in your mouth instead. you wondered if kento would like it if you cleaned his fingers of you and your cunt clenched again, cream leaking out onto the sheets.

you heaved a few more breaths, wiping down your hands on your sheets before reaching for the water bottle on your nightstand. you quickly went to the bathroom before writing down a very detailed diary entry and passing out from exhaustion soon after.

the next few weeks went down in a very similar manner, finding new ways and positions to fuck yourself in and writing them down in your prettiest handwriting with a few hearts sprinkled in between. your orgasms were always satisfying but never as mind blowing as the ones he gave you, even if you tried emulating the same movement or speed. it never matched how good his thick, experienced fingers felt inside you.

and just like that, a few months had passed and you felt yourself being giddy the night before, kicking your feet and giggling and all. your heart started to pick up speed and your thoughts were circling around seeing the man of your desires again. and with those happy, giddy thoughts, you fell asleep.

the next day passed quicker than you thought and soon enough, you found yourself in dr. nanami’s office yet again. he had regarded you with the same respect and warmth but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't excited to see you again. his every waking thought was occupied by you and your sweet little cunt, his hand wrapping around his cock from the moment he woke up to the second he fell asleep.

“well? how are you today? have you been keeping up with your diary?” he asked, leaning onto his hands with his darkened eyes fixated on you.

you nodded, pulling out your notebook from your bag. looking at it now, you felt a little embarrassed about the stickers on it, the way it looked tattered from how enthusiastically you wrote in it and most importantly, what you wrote in it.

kento flipped through the first few pages, skimming over your handwritten notes with an appreciative hum. he admired your handwriting and felt his heart skip a beat at the little hearts drawn next to his name.

he closed the notebook quietly with a small smile. “thank you very much. i really appreciate you cooperating and indulging me like this. shall we proceed with the exam?”

after a thorough breast exam that left you wanting more, you're back on the exam chair with your legs spread eagle and speculum inserted into you. he took another swab, watching your hole clench around the cold metal. his fingers slid into the mouth of the instrument, prodding his fingers into your walls and listening to your whimpers. he then pulled the instrument out, replacing it quickly with his fingers and performing his routine exam.

your voice was muffled against your hand again, your eyes filling with hot tears at the little stimulation he provided. he was staying professional, even with his breathing heavy and cock throbbing. after confirming that you didn't have anything to worry about, he pulled out, attempting to pull off his soiled gloves but your whimper stopped him in his tracks.

“could you please, um, leave them on when you’re down there?” you asked, looking at him through your lashes with a subtle pout.

he got up from the chair, leaning over you until your noses touched. you could smell his cologne, the gentle smell making your head spin. “y’like being fingered with gloves? didn't know such an innocent little thing like you would be this dirty,” he teased, relishing in the shuddering breath you let out at his tone. he straightened back up with a smirk and adjusted his gloves, making saliva pool in your mouth. “alright then.”

“a-and, um, also,” you stammered, pawing at him to come closer, “can i please touch you? i wanna make you feel good too and the practice will help me if i wanna be sexually active, right, sir?”

kento sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes before exhaling shakily. never in his wildest dreams would he have thought to ever get this opportunity. he stepped to the side of the exam chair, letting you undo his belt, button and zipper with shaky, inexperienced fingers. you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down just enough to reveal his thick, leaking cock.

you gasped, only having seen penises in porn. you saw a pearl of precum running down his shaft, his musk filling your nostrils. you gently pulled him towards you before nuzzling your nose against his trimmed pubes and inhaling his scent deeply.

“smells so good, sir,” you whimpered, looking up at his flushed face. he looked down at you with his pupils blown wide and one of his gloved hands settled on the back of your neck. “i hope you taste as good, too…”

you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his shaft, moving your hand from the base to his leaky tip, spreading the drops over his fat tip. he felt so warm, heavy and silky in your hand.

“g-god,” you heard him groan, feeling his cock twitch with every slow drag of your hand against him.

“feels good?” you asked shyly, a small smile playing on your lips.

“so good, sweetheart. keep going, i’ll make you feel good, too,” he breathily responded with a smirk. he slowly stepped forward until his cock, in all its beautifully flushed glory, was face to face with you. you continued to slowly jerk kento off, admiring the subtle reactions he was giving you.

he leaned over you, gloved hands sliding up your hot thighs. one of them was spreading your slicked folds while the other was circling your clit in time with your hand's movements. you let out a whine, your hips jerking against his hands before both hands left and a swift smack was delivered against your cunt.

“fuuuck!” you cursed, your hot breath fanning over kento’s twitching length.

“be patient and keep your noises down. while the ladies up front don't really care and i purposefully always put you last on my day, i still don't want people to hear how good i make your sweet little cunt feel. you wanna be good for any future encounters, right?” he scorned, resuming his agonizing pace against your clit.

you let out a whimper, keening at his teasing yet assuring tone. you slowly leaned upward, giving his leaky tip an uncertain lick. your efforts were rewarded with more of that slightly salty precum and a low praise from kento that had warmth spreading all throughout you. you opened your jaw a little wider, pulling him closer by his pant legs. he stumbled forward, willing his hips not to jerk into your warm, waiting mouth.

one of his thick gloved fingers made its way inside you, stretching your tight little hole. you ground your hips against it, lips closing around his tip. his heavy balls were dangling in your face and you reached up to gently fondle them like you'd seen pornstars do. a small curse reached your ears and kento’s hips jerked, pushing his cock further into your mouth.

you let out a squeak, muffled by his length while he added another finger into your tight heat.

“god, i wanna ruin you so bad, wanna make you take me and only me, ruin you for other men. such a sweet thing f’me,” kento panted, looking down at you taking half of him without a hitch. “you trained your throat or are you just naturally blessed?”

you moved your head and parted from him with a lewd gasp, tongue lolling out. “i tried, but my fingers aren't as big as yours, sir,” you whined, tongue circling around his tip and tasting the salty liquid dripping from it. your spit made his cock glisten in the fluorescent light and he watched, fingers still in your cunt. he was watching as you slid your lips over his length, spreading your spit and his precum all over his length and your face. his lips were parted, drool threatening to drip down. it was so lewd, so enticing to watch an innocent virgin like you become a whore with just a little attention and a cock in your face.

he sucked in a sharp breath to focus, feeling your hips move against the heel of his hand by themselves. he started moving his fingers in and out of you again, making sure to press his fingertips against your g-spot. you whimpered, feeling a warmth rush through you.

“o-oh god, please, feels so – ah!” you whined, voice rising in octaves when kento used his other hand to pinch your clit. you felt pleasure bloom in the pit of your stomach, the knot tightening dangerously fast. your head flew back against the cushion, eyes screwing shut as you squirmed against kento's strong arms.

“stop, ah, i-it feels weird!” you begged, whining as kento pulled his fingers out and left you hanging. he stepped back, his cock bobbing with every move.

“feels weird how?” he inquired, walking around the exam chair to take his seat between your legs. adjusting the height of the exam chair to have your pussy right at his face.

“like i was g-gonna pee,” you said, voice small with shame. kento gave you a grin, leaning down to press a few kisses on the inside of your knee.

“did it feel good?” he asked, kisses trailing down your thighs. kento watched as you gave him an embarrassed nod. he made his way towards your cunt, tongue laving over your skin.

“may i?” giving him another nod, he dove right in.

his sweaty gloved hands grabbed your thighs before kento licked a broad stripe from your hole to your clit. letting out a groan at your sweet taste, he started drawing circles around your clit, flicking it back and forth. your hands flew down to his hair, gripping the greying strands like your life depended on it. you let out a few huffs and whimpers, trying not to be too loud as kento devoured your sweet cunt. his ears registered the faint click of the front door, signaling that you were finally alone.

“c’mon, sweetheart. let it all out, it's just us now,” he murmured before his lips enclosed your sensitive nub. you could barely hear him through the rush of blood to your head but the noises that left you were music to his ears. every moan, every plea and whimper was saved in his brain to replay over and over again later on.

you tasted like sugar, like honey, like he was gonna develop a sweet tooth just for you. his eyes threatened to close at your heavenly taste but he needed, yearned to see your reactions. to see how good he made you feel. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, feeling that familiar knot form and tighten again. kento could tell by how your moans got louder and higher in pitch and how your thighs tried to close despite the stirrups.

“gonna cum on my tongue, darling? go ahead,” he encouraged, completely burying his face in your pussy now. nose nudging against your clit and tongue toying with your tight entrance.

you panted, hips moving against his face with no particular rhythm. “f-fuuuuck, s'good, gonna cum, sir, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimpered, pulling at his hair and eliciting a groan out of the older man. his gaze forced you to keep eye contact, his hooded eyes watching your every twitch and squirm. he was absolutely drunk off you, now that he's gotten a real taste he couldn't stop. he observed your eyes rolling back, hips bucking against his face and your lips parting in a silent scream. you gushed right into his awaiting mouth and he lapped it all up, licking his lips after. giving your cunt a few light smacks, he watched your hole twitch pathetically.

“god, you're the sweetest little thing. couldn't be happier you walked into my office,” you heard him mumble through your post orgasmic haze. he leaned back, wiping his face clean as he watched your pussy twitch with the aftershocks. he changed his gloves before gently patting your swollen cunt, observing how your thighs twitched in the stirrups and your breath got faster.

“doctor, please,” you breathlessly whined, panting like a dog. “wanna make you cum, too.”

kento almost passed out. his cock was twitching and turning even darker. his balls were so tight and full, so ready to empty themselves on or in you. you grabbed at him and keened when he interlaced his fingers with yours. his heart was bursting through his ribcage with adoration and he gave your smaller hand a squeeze.

“please, sir,” you pleaded with him, reaching one hand down to pull your shirt over your tits and squeeze them together to show them off. “use me as you please.”

your doctor let out a huff, cursing to himself. he leaned down to rub his nose against yours and relished in your glassy eyes looking at him like he just stole the moon for you. “you're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. you don't know what you're getting yourself into. what would your parents say about you giving your precious first time away to a man my age?”

he grinned at the whine that escaped your throat and finally pressed his lips against yours to swallow them. your eyes fluttered closed and your arm slid against his chest to grip his shirt. one of his hands grabbed your jaw, rubbing gentle circles against your burning skin. it wasn’t your first kiss, but it was with him and it made you feel like a giddy teenager having their first kiss again.

you tasted yourself on his tongue, along with the coffee he had earlier. his cologne made you dizzy with how it mixed with his natural comforting scent. his smell overtook your nostrils, his taste filled your mouth. his tongue slid over the seam of your lips and he easily dominated the kiss, urgent yet assuring. you felt yourself getting woozy from the kiss and you parted with a gasp.

“are you sure?” he whispered against your drool-slicked lips, wiping some of it away with a gloved thumb. “i-i haven't had sex in years and i had a vasectomy so you don’t need to worry. but i’ll do whatever, i don't care. just. please,” he breathed out, giving you a quick peck, “let me have you.”

you nodded, a tear running down your cheek. you gave him a big smile and let out a giggle. “yes, i am sure. i know you'll take good care of me. please take me, sir.”

as soon as kento had your consent, his lips crashed back into yours with a fervor. you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. your wobbly legs were gently lifted out of the stirrups and you felt the circulation return to your feet. your ankles crossed behind his lower back and you felt his leaking cock hit your folds with a wet slap.

kento whined lowly, grinding his hips against yours to feel your essence coating his length. his lips left yours to attach themselves onto your neck, kissing and sucking your hot skin. tiny gasps and pants left your lips, shaky hands trying to find anything to hold onto while kento searched for your most sensitive spots. your hips never stopped moving against his, the tip of his cock rubbing so deliciously against your swollen clit. his heavy balls tightened with every upward gyration of your hips.

“if you keep that up, i might orgasm too fast. slow down, darling,” kento mumbled against your skin, panting and licking a broad stripe up your neck. you whimpered, willing your hips to still and your hand sliding up the back of his neck to caress the stubble of his undercut.

“noo, wan’ you to cum inside,” you whined, back arching as kento’s tongue laved over your nipple, the saliva cooling your skin. the other one was occupied by gloved fingers rolling the sensitive nub between them. you felt his teeth graze your skin with the corners of his mouth turning upward.

“i will, don't you worry your pretty little head about that,” he teased, switching nipples and pinching your buds lightly to make you yelp. you could feel your wetness running down, a little puddle forming beneath your ass. kento made his way down your tummy, leaving a few possessing marks (not that anyone would see but you). just the thought of knowing he was the first to do this to you had him dripping all over your pussy.

he unraveled your legs around him, urging you to hold them open for him. your cunt glistened with your essence and he started eating you out like a starved man yet again. but this time, he slipped two gloved fingers into you, the other hand sliding across your tummy to press down slightly. you let out a whimper, head falling back against the cushion. his fingertips bullied that spongy spot in your walls, his lips were wrapped around your sensitive clit and the gentle pressure on your tummy only added to the unfamiliar pleasure forming.

“n-no, i’m gonna pee!!” you cried, tears now flowing down your cheeks, shame coursing through you.

“you won't, c’mon. let go f’me,” kento mumbled against your skin before his mouth attached to your clit again and his fingers picked up speed. “c’mon, make a mess, sweetheart.”

your noises picked up in volume and expletives. wet splashing emitted from between your thighs as kento leaned back and watched your cunt gush like a waterfall. he grinned, satisfied with his efforts as your pussy twitched and the steady stream lost its ferocity. you started shaking with aftershocks from that powerful orgasm, the grip on your own legs slipping away. when kento pulled his fingers out and started giving your pretty cunt a few love taps, you closed your legs immediately and tried pushing him away.

“such a pretty thing, did so well f’me. let me look at your pussy, hm? make sure everything's fine?” he teased, sliding his hands down your wet legs and stepping into the puddle of your desire. kento leaned over you, giving you a little forehead kiss and nuzzling his nose against yours. “did so well, so proud of you.”

you gave a weak smile at the praise, a lovesick warmth spreading through you. you leaned up to kiss him, swapping spit as his hands came up to caress your jaw.

he parted too soon for your liking, making you whine. his small smile and dark gaze made up for it. as he grabbed his fat throbbing length and slid it against your swollen folds, you instinctively bucked your hips away.

“’s sensitive, please, be careful– ah!”

your words got stuck in your throat when kento pushed just the tip in, a small sting erupting between your thighs despite all the work he did. it was such a tight fit, kento felt like he was suffocating. his lips were parted, hips pushing just the tightest bit forward, slowly edging away at the resistance of your pussy.

you whined and squirmed, weakly putting your hands against his chest to slow him down. but now that he got a taste of what you had to offer, he wasn't going to stop at just the tip.

oh no, kento wanted to mark you, breed you, make you his entirely. mind, body, and soul. he wanted to have you all to himself.

he didn't realize he was thinking out loud until his cock was inside you all the way to the hilt. his full balls tightened, his orgasm so, so close. and he was so deep, you could feel his tip kiss your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. he leaned over you, swallowing all your cries, wiping away your precious tears.

he stayed still for a while, letting your cunt mold into the shape of him, feeling it wrap around him like a vice.

“so full, oh god,” you panted, scrambling to find something to hold on to.

“does it hurt?” kento asked, worry evident in his voice. tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving little streaks behind. he gently wiped them away, placing gentle kisses all over your face. “you're taking me so well, sweetheart. take a deep breath.”

you shook your head to his question and he wrapped his strong arms around you, squishing you against his chest. his large hands settled on your lower back and he slowly moved his hips back. he watched intently where you were finally connected, a light sheen of arousal coating his whole length.

you whimpered, feeling your pussy clench around his tip and he shushed you, telling you to relax and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you clung onto him as he started thrusting slowly, his leaking tip nudging all the right spots and you felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure.

burying your face in his neck, you let kento move your hips towards his, feeling his balls hit your ass with every gentle thrust. you could feel him, smell him, hear him. it was nothing but him.

kento picked up his pace soon enough, chasing his own high. he was unbelievably drunk off you, you took over his mind just as much as he did yours and he never realised he was speaking his fantasies directly into your ear.

“gonna cum so deep, gonna fuck my cum inside you, gonna breed your little cunt ‘til you’re nice and round. yeah? would you like that sweetheart? fuck, you’d look so pretty with your belly all round and tits full,” he groaned, listening to the lewd squelches of your colliding sexes.

“what’cha think, hm? gonna make me a daddy?” he whispered before kissing your neck and fucking you even deeper.

you were absolutely wrecked at this point, mindlessly babbling and parroting everything he was saying. you never actually noticed what exactly he was saying, that he was exposing himself. you just wanted him to keep going. the familiar knot in your stomach tightened, only snapping when kento’s hand slid down between your sweaty forms to stimulate your swollen clit.

the force of your orgasm pushed kento's cock out of you. he watched with a lopsided grin as the fluids hit the already there puddle with a soft splash.

“o-oh god,” you whimpered, feeling your strength leave you. truthfully, you were teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, but feeling kento’s fat cock slide back into your tight heat brought you back to life. your hands were against his chest, holding onto him as his thrusts picked up speed and ferocity. his balls tightened with every clench of your cunt around him, his orgasm dangerously close.

“f-fuck, sweetheart. you're gonna milk me for all i have, aren't you? gonna breed this pretty pussy, hm?” he grunted, leaning back to take off his sticky gloves. coming back down to you, his large hands grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him with watery heavy eyes.

“you're gonna let me cum in your virgin pussy, darling? want me to cum inside, right?”

you nodded, brain fuzzy and foggy, mindlessly babbling: “yes, yes, please, sir! wan’ you deep inside!”

kento grinned devilishly, relishing in your little cockdrunk whines while you felt his pubic bone rub deliciously against your overstimulated clit. he was so, so deep, you could feel him in your throat, stealing all the air from your lungs.

his name (or rather his honorific) was the only coherent word leaving your lips as he gave just one, two, three more thrusts before you felt the warm splutter of his cum flowing right into your awaiting womb. he let out a strained groan, savoring the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him and milking him for all he’s worth.

he collapsed onto you, his weight comforting on top of you and you threaded your fingers through his hair soothingly. his hands slid around your back, pulling you closer to him. he pressed gentle kisses over your face and neck, tickling you with the damp tips of his hair. he praised you for doing such a good job, for taking him so well, for trusting him.

you felt your whole body flushing with warmth, frantic heartbeat slowing down and you cuddled into him. you looked over his shoulder to see the sun had already begun to set.

“o-oh, is it already so late?” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. kento turned his head, looking at the sunset with a low hum. “seems like it.”

he slowly pulled out of you with a wet squelch, watching in awe as a few drops of his seed spilled out of your clenching hole. he plugged it up with his fingers before quickly pulling up your panties, telling you to keep it in, be good. he wiped his cock clean, tucking it in still half hard. he could’ve gone many more times, prove that he didn’t actually get a vasectomy but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. it was bad enough that it was him, your healthcare provider, an older divorced man, who took your virginity in a cold, sterile exam room.

he’d make it up to you later.

you closed your eyes in bliss, trying to stay awake. you heard kento leave the room, letting some fresh air in to cleanse the stench of sex.

he came back right when you were on the verge of passing out to hand you a glass of water with a little straw. “here, let me sit you up.”

he took your hand, gently pulling you into a sitting position and tidied you up while you emptied the glass in record time. he put your shirt back on, smoothing it down and watching as your face cooled down.

“everything okay, sweetheart? are you in pain?” he asked, putting away the empty glass and taking your hands in his to press gentle kisses on your knuckles. you nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. kento smiled and helped you stand on your wobbly legs.

“i’m very proud of you, thank you for trusting me, sweetheart. let me take you home,” he offered, which you gladly accepted.

he didn't say which one, though.

(not that you'd mind either.)

tags: thank you to @bratbby333 and @bleach-your-panties for beta-reading and thank you to @sugulani for fueling my brainrot about him <3 @kentocidal @thebimbopalace @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.

On average a person has about 29,000 days to live. I’ve already used almost 10,000 of mine.

I would really like to commit the rest to sucking Ghost’s scrambled brains out of his dick 😔

I won't lie daddy. kitten is a little worried