↳ WARNINGS: Stripping, explicit mentions of sex
A MAGAZINE LIES spread out on his lap. On the cover is a blonde man posing half-naked on a small stool, cyberpunk goggles in hand. Though the sight is not as attractive as the bare skin of your body as you twist and jump just out of his reach. He wishes you were in the place of the stupid article.
"Please," he begs, "Let me touch you."
You dance out of his grasp with a dangerous smile on your lips. Gojo shifts from his place on the couch, pants an uncomfortable space for the problem there. He wishes he could keep his problem inside you instead.
"Boy~~ got me walking from side to side," sings the artist belting out high notes on the speaker playing in the background. Your hips sway from side to side, ass jiggling with each step you take. Gojo watches with hungry eyes. In one discreet motion he attempts to jab a hand into his pants. You turn at just the right moment and tut at him.
"Bad," you scold him, taking your fingers out of your panties. He groans in despair as the article stays on your body. "I told you you wouldn't get a good show if you didn't behave."
"But I am behaving!"
"Says the one who wants to bust into his own hand," you say, "When you can get all that frustration of yours released in here." You say this with a slap to your ass. "You're gonna be here all night if you don't behave, Gojo."
"Yes ma'am," Gojo says in a begrudging tone. He would love to be here all night, though, with you on his lap while he-
"Oh, my favorite song's gonna come on in a few...," you remark while bending over to check your playlist. Gojo is distracted from his original train of thought as you adjust the strap of your panties, ass jutting out.
"Uh, hey... bunny, sweets, if I were to pay you while you stripped... would we be able to get straight to business?" he finally asks, still eyeing the curved swell of your ass, and the way your legs look in those hot fucking thigh highs.
"Mmm. We'll have to see about that, rich man." Your eyes go hooded as the next song on your playlist comes on. Your gaze cuts across the room and makes him take in a deep breath as you meet his eyes.
"You deserve more than a cameo..."
Oh. This song.
The song he fucks you to. The song with beats he matches his thrusts with when he's fucking you.
"You gonna behave, Gojo?" you coo, hands on the hem of your panties. "No touching."
He nods wildly. "Yes, yes, just let me see you, bunny."
"Lights, camera, action."
You turn to face away from him, hooking your fingers into your panties to pull the garment down. Gojo watches as your back arches like a glorious strand of pearls as you peel your underwear off. The part of the garment that cups your pussy in its sartorial hold comes off wet as you slide your panties off your legs. He buzzes with delight upon seeing how you want him, too.
Heels clacking on the floor as you stride over to him, his blue eyes pause to observe the now revealed skin at the front of your pelvis. In a blink he spreads his legs for you. You don't touch him at all, only lean in close to push your panties into his mouth. He clenches it between his teeth, gleaming a white-toothed grin at you from under long lashes of snow.
Your ass bounces as you strut back to the center of the room. Your eyes have closed. You seem to be enjoying yourself, hips swaying from one side to another as you dance to the music, arms over your head. Fondness blooms in Gojo's chest. It's a nice dampener on the angry bursts of lust that spread through his stomach.
Your hands cinch the hem of your (his, actually) shirt. Your eyes meet his once more. He can see your nipples peeking through your shirt. He wants to take each one into his mouth and make you squirt.
When you take your shirt off, your breasts bounce to reveal the plush skin of your chest. Gojo's breathing becomes labored. He gets tunnel vision. Your panties, thick with the smell of your sex, shoot waves of arousal up his nose.
You stalk back to him. Only donning thigh highs and a loud pair of heels. Gojo blinks down at the way those thigh highs hug your legs-he will never fucking get over it, it'll be his fantasy for months when you're out on a mission and he's home alone-and his jaw tightens around the garment in his mouth.
Your hand traces the thick muscle of his thigh. Squeezes his leg with adventurous fingers, just by the bulging mass sitting between his thighs.
He looks at your pretty eyes, eyes close to being prettier than his. A demon sings there. You're so fucking hot it fucking hurts. And the fact that he can't touch you-fuck, how much longer will you just stare at him like that, how much longer will you make him wait while your hand rests so tantalizingly by what he wants, needs you to touch, to help him relieve-
"I'm going to fuck you now, Gojo," you tell him, and he takes in a sharp breath through his nose at this. "You want that?"
You pull your underwear out of his mouth. Throw it aside with a languid flick of your wrist.
"Yes. Yes," he breathes, staring up at you as you remain standing, fingers still around his thigh. "Fuck me, (Y/N). Ride me."
When you smirk and settle into his lap with your heels and thigh highs still on, he almost moans. His pleasure comes out as a grunt and a wanton thrust up into your core. One that you punish him for.
And in the morning, after one of the wildest sessions he's ever had with you, he nearly bows before you as you show him a recording you'd secretly taken of that wonderful rendezvous. It's one of the many you have saved on your phone. One of the hundreds he'll add to his own collection.
It's your undressed rehearsal, so take your clothes off, show me how you show off.