Takumi held Kamuro's head firmly in place, his fingers tangled deep in her purple hair as his hips bucked one final time. His cock throbbed powerfully in the tight confines of her throat, unleashing thick, hot ropes of cum that flooded her mouth and spilled down her esophagus.
She gagged reflexively, her eyes watering, cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she struggled to swallow it all, salty and viscous, overwhelming her senses. A few droplets escaped the corners of her lips, trailing down her chin, but she managed most of it, her throat working in rhythmic contractions around him until he was utterly spent.
His groan echoed low and satisfied in the room, his body tensing then relaxing as the aftershocks pulsed through him.
Finally, he released her, pulling out with a wet, obscene pop. Kamuro gasped for air, coughing lightly as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving. Her lips were swollen, glistening with saliva and remnants of his release, and she shot him a glare that mixed defiance with a hazy, reluctant arousal.
"You bastard," she muttered, voice hoarse, but there was no real venom in it, more like a token protest. Her body betrayed her, nipples hard and peaked, thighs slick with her earlier orgasm, a fresh ache building between her legs despite the power play.
Takumi smirked down at her, his cock still semi-hard, twitching in the air as he caught his breath. He reached down, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up effortlessly, her lithe, athletic frame no match for his strength. She stumbled slightly into him, her bare breasts pressing against his chest, the heat of their skin igniting fresh sparks.
"We're not done yet," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. His hands roamed her body possessively, sliding down her back, cupping her ass, squeezing the firm cheeks as he pulled her flush against him. She could feel his length hardening again already, pressing insistently against her thigh.
Kamuro huffed, trying to maintain her rude facade, but her hands betrayed her, trailing up his toned abs, fingers tracing the ridges of muscle. "Figures you'd want more. Just get it over with so I can get that video deleted." Her words were sharp, but her eyes told a different story, lingering on his broad shoulders, the way his biceps flexed as he held her.
He chuckled, backing her toward the bed until her knees hit the edge and she fell onto the mattress with a soft bounce. Takumi loomed over her, shedding the rest of his clothes, pants and boxers pooling at his feet, revealing his full, imposing physique, tall, leanly muscled from whatever hidden training he did, his ten-inch cock now fully erect again, veined and glistening from her mouth.
He climbed onto the bed, caging her in with his arms, his weight dipping the mattress as he hovered above her. "Oh, I'll delete it," he promised, leaning down to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting himself on her, dominating the kiss as she arched up instinctively, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Breaking away, he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, then lower to her breasts. Kamuro's breath hitched as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand kneaded the other, pinching, rolling the sensitive bud until she whimpered, her hips bucking up against him.
She wasn't a virgin, that much was clear from how her body responded, fluid, eager, her inner thighs already slick with arousal. But there was something raw about this, her usual control stripped away, submitting to him for leverage. It thrilled Takumi, making his cock ache as he ground it against her core, the head rubbing through her folds, teasing her clit.
"Fuck... just do it," she groaned, her voice breaking, one hand fisting the sheets while the other pulled at his hair. Her body was a study in contrasts, toned legs , soft curves at her hips and breasts, skin flushed and dewy with sweat.
Takumi obliged, positioning himself at her entrance, her panties long since discarded, and pushing in slowly at first, savoring the way her walls yielded around him. She was tight but welcoming, wet from her earlier climax, and he sank inch by inch, groaning at the heat enveloping him. "God, you're soaked," he muttered, bottoming out with a sharp thrust that made her gasp, her back arching off the bed.
They moved together then, a sensual rhythm building as he thrust deep and steady. Kamuro's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, her heels digging into his back as she met each movement with her own hips. The room filled with the sounds of their joining, wet slaps of skin, her breathy moans, his low grunts. He angled his hips to hit that spot inside her, the one that made her eyes flutter shut and her nails rake down his back, leaving red trails. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping onto her chest as he leaned down, capturing her mouth again in a messy kiss, tongues tangling while he pounded harder.
Pleasure coiled tight in her core, building with each drag of his thick length against her sensitive walls. "Takumi... harder," she demanded, her rude streak surfacing even now, but it came out as a plea.
He complied, one hand slipping between them to rub her clit in firm circles, the dual stimulation pushing her over the edge. She came first, her body convulsing around him, walls clenching in rhythmic pulses, a sharp cry escaping her lips as waves of ecstasy crashed through her.
Her toes curled, thighs quaking, and she clung to him desperately, riding out the high.The feel of her tightening around him was too much. Takumi thrust erratically a few more times, then buried himself deep, spilling inside her with a guttural groan, hot pulses filling her as his body shuddered, muscles tensing before going slack.
He collapsed half on top of her, both of them panting, slick with sweat, the air thick with the musky scent of sex.
For a few minutes, they lay there, catching their breath. Kamuro's hand idly traced patterns on his back, her usual scowl softened into something almost vulnerable. "Not bad," she admitted grudgingly, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
But Takumi wasn't done, he could feel himself stirring again already, the sight of her sprawled beneath him, hair disheveled, lips parted, body marked with faint hickeys from his mouth, reigniting his desire.
He rolled them over suddenly, so she was on top, straddling his hips. His cock, still semi-hard and slick from their combined releases, pressed against her entrance. "Round two," he said with a wicked grin, hands gripping her waist to guide her down. Kamuro's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't protest instead, she smirked, a spark of challenge in her gaze.
"Think you can keep up?" she taunted, grinding against him teasingly, her breasts swaying with the motion.
She lifted her hips, positioning herself, then sank down slowly, taking him in fully with a low moan. The new angle hit deeper, filling her completely, and she began to move, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles at first, savoring the stretch.
Takumi's hands roamed up to her breasts, kneading them roughly, thumbs flicking her nipples as she rode him. Her athletic build shone here, toned abs flexing, thighs working as she bounced, picking up speed. Sweat glistened on her skin, dripping down the valley between her breasts, and she tossed her head back, ponytail coming loose, purple strands cascading around her face.
"Fuck, you feel good," Takumi growled, his hips bucking up to meet her downward thrusts, the bed creaking under them. He sat up slightly, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer, his mouth latching onto one breast, sucking, biting gently until she hissed in pleasure-pain.
Kamuro's pace quickened, her moans growing louder, more desperate as she chased her release. One of her hands slipped between them, rubbing her clit frantically while the other braced on his chest, nails digging in.
The intensity built, their bodies syncing in a frantic rhythm. She came again first, harder this time, her walls fluttering around him, body arching as a keening cry tore from her throat. The sensation milked him, and Takumi followed moments later, thrusting up deep and holding her down as he emptied himself inside her once more, groaning her name like a curse.
Exhausted, they collapsed together, Kamuro slumping against his chest, her breath ragged. Takumi's arms wrapped around her, holding her close as the afterglow settled, both of them spent but satisfied, for now.
___
The dorm room was quiet now, the only sounds the soft rustle of sheets and the distant hum of the air conditioning. Late afternoon had slipped into evening, the winter sky outside already dark beyond the half-drawn curtains.
Takumi and Kamuro lay tangled together on his bed, both still naked, skin warm and slightly sticky from their earlier exertions. She was half-draped over him, her head resting on his shoulder, purple hair fanned out across his chest like spilled ink.
One of her legs was hooked lazily over his thigh, her fingers tracing idle circles on his abdomen.
Takumi reached for his phone on the nightstand, unlocking it with a swipe. "You wanted proof," he said, voice low and relaxed.
He opened his secure folder, navigated to the video file, the one he'd captured outside a small supermarket near the school. Grainy security footage, enhanced just enough, Kamuro, slipping a couple of expensive cans of alcohol into her bag without paying.
He tilted the screen so she could see clearly, then long-pressed the file. A menu popped up. Delete. Confirm. The progress bar filled, and the thumbnail vanished.
"Gone," he said simply, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand. "No copies. You're clean."
Kamuro watched the whole thing in silence, her expression unreadable at first. Then the tension in her shoulders eased, just slightly. She exhaled through her nose, a quiet sound that might have been relief.
"Thanks," she muttered, almost too soft to hear.Takumi smirked faintly, scrolling idly through his gallery now that the mood had shifted. He paused on another video, one from the MHA world, midnight black hair cascading over bare shoulders, a familiar sultry voice moaning his name as he took her from behind in an empty classroom after hours. He'd kept a few souvenirs.
He angled the phone toward Kamuro casually, as if it were nothing.
"Speaking of leverage… ever wonder what I do with the really good stuff?" He hit play for just a few seconds, enough for the audio to be unmistakable, enough to see the woman's face in profile before he stopped it. "Old middle-school teacher," he lied smoothly. "She was… very dedicated to making sure I was doing well."
Kamuro's eyes widened a fraction, genuine surprise flickering across her usually guarded features. She stared at the frozen frame for a moment, then at him, something complicated passing over her face, shock, maybe a hint of amusement, and then, unexpectedly, a softening.
Her arm tightened around his waist, pulling herself closer until her cheek rested against his collarbone.
"You're unbelievable," she murmured, but there was no bite in it. Instead, she pressed a slow, gentle kiss to his cheek, almost tender, a far cry from the rude, defiant girl who'd stormed in earlier.
Her lips lingered near his neck, and then she paused. Her fingers brushed over a faint, fresh hickey just below his jawline, one she knew she hadn't left. The mark was too new, the colour too vivid.
"This isn't from me," she said quietly, thumb tracing the bruise. There was no accusation in her tone, just curiosity. "Who's it from?"
Takumi didn't flinch. The mark was from Kushida, two nights ago in the heat of her desperate gratitude, but that was none of Kamuro's business.
"I have a girlfriend," he answered, straightforward, meeting her gaze without apology.
Kamuro blinked once, processing. She remembered, everyone knew Takumi was dating Haruka Hasebe from their class. Casual, low-key, but official enough. Her expression shifted again, something thoughtful settling in her eyes.
"…Doesn't it bother you?" she asked after a beat. "Doing this?"
Takumi considered it for a moment, his hand sliding up her back to toy with a strand of her hair. "A little," he admitted, honest in his own way. "But only a little."
He tilted his head, looking down at her. "What about you? You feel bad?"
The question hung in the air. Kamuro didn't answer right away. Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she stayed quiet for several long seconds, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable.
Then, without a word, she shifted. Her lips found the unmarked side of his neck, just above the collarbone. She kissed the skin softly at first, then opened her mouth, sucking deliberately, slow, firm pressure, teeth grazing lightly as she worked.
Takumi felt the heat bloom under her mouth, the sharp little pull that would leave a dark, unmistakable mark.
She didn't stop until she was satisfied, pulling back only to admire the fresh hickey, darker than the one Kushida had left, perfectly symmetrical on the other side.
Kamuro rested her head back on his shoulder, arm tightening around him again.
"There," she whispered, voice low and a little rough. "Now we match."