He stroked the calves and hollows of the knees beneath the gown, carefully observing the fascinating phenomenon right before his eyes.
How did he manage to squeeze everything into this tiny pouch?
It looked like it could burst at any moment, the pouch stretched to its limit.
At any second, it seemed a part of his balls would spill out.
Around the pouch, which was no larger than a palm, the pubic hair was neatly trimmed.
Yoon Jooho lifted his head to gaze up at his lover.
“You shaved? Did you do it yourself?”
Song Hyunsoo nodded, and Yoon Jooho muttered a curse.
“Shit, I should’ve noticed that first.”
He tugged at the side he was holding, pulling Song Hyunsoo between his spread knees.
He pressed his lips to the firm, muscular lower abdomen, as if in reverence, as if in worship.
Song Hyunsoo gently stroked Yoon Jooho’s hair, as if bestowing mercy.
“Mm… hng.”
Song Hyunsoo’s breath was already starting to grow ragged.
That was the signal—they’d begun.
Looking up from below, the volume of his chest muscles stood out all the more.
The urge to suck on them surged instantly, and Yoon Jooho’s length between his legs responded with a sudden throb.
Almost as if he could read that emotion, Song Hyunsoo bent his waist forward.
He kissed the bottom of the bulging muscle, nuzzling with his nose and inhaling the scent.
Song Hyunsoo’s hand, which had been stroking his hair, tightened.
He teased, licking just the areola, then took the nipple fully into his mouth.
“Ah…!”
A moan, heavy with sensation.
He sucked hard, lips working insistently. With the pressure of his tongue and palate, he drew in the flesh with all his might.
With both hands, he caressed the exposed buttocks above the strap.
Even spreading his fingers wide, there was more than enough to overflow between them.
He savored the intoxicating curve and volume, soft and yet resilient at the same time.
Suddenly, he gripped the flesh tight, almost as if to leave marks. He bit down, teeth grazing the nipple as if to sever it.
He already wanted nothing more than to shove his cock in and fuck him senseless.
“Hnng…”
Song Hyunsoo gripped Yoon Jooho’s hair. He bent forward awkwardly, almost hugging Yoon Jooho’s head, who was sucking at his nipple.
Inside his mouth, Yoon Jooho scraped the nipple with his tongue.
Sucking so roughly, the plump flesh soon firmed up, flicked and bounced by the darting tip of his tongue.
“Ahh, hng! Ngh, hh.”
Song Hyunsoo’s arm around Yoon Jooho’s head kept tightening. As his legs grew weak, his body leaned ever closer.
Still, his gaze never left his own chest—no, Yoon Jooho’s face there.
Like a beast licking a wound, Yoon Jooho carefully coated the nipple with his saliva, squeezing both buttocks in his hands.
The saliva-slick, plump nipple looked even lewder than usual. Yoon Jooho looked up at his lover.
“You like it, don’t you?”
“W-what are you talking about.”
“My face, sucking your chest. You always stare, don’t you?”
“I, I do not!”
“Yeah, you do.”
Chup, with a final kiss to the nipple, he grabbed the glass he’d set on the table and finished the remaining Champagne.
Then, standing up, he wrapped his arms around Song Hyunsoo’s waist, kissing him deeply as he let the liquid flow into his mouth.
“Mmph, mn. Hng.”
He gulped eagerly, but some of the liquid escaped, trailing down his lips. Yoon Jooho caught it with a long lick of his tongue.
He gripped Hyunsoo’s buttocks through the gown, kneading them in slow circles, while his tongue trailed a hot line along the curve of his ear.
“Your ears and your chest are your weak spots.”
“Uhh, hng.”
Pushed back by that insistent force, Song Hyunsoo staggered backward. Just a few steps behind was the bed.
The hand massaging his butt slipped between the cleft.
“Haah!”
Rubbing the hidden spot with his fingertips, Yoon Jooho whispered in his ear.
“The sounds you make when I suck your chest… I think they come from here.”
“What the hell…! You’re definitely a pervert, senpai.”
Song Hyunsoo raised his arms to cover his face and shouted.
He tried to pull away, leaning his upper body back, but Yoon Jooho didn’t let go of his waist.
“Better to be a pervert with you than have boring sex with you and go elsewhere to be a freak.”
“Isn’t there an option where you’re not a pervert at all?”
Wrapping his arms tightly around Hyunsoo’s waist, Yoon Jooho pressed their foreheads together.
“You don’t actually hate playing pervert with me.”
Snatching at Song Hyunsoo’s robe, already half-slipped from one shoulder, he yanked it off in a single motion.
For the second time tonight, he threw him onto the bed.
Yoon Jooho’s hungry gaze roamed his lover’s form, sprawled on the white linen in sexy underwear.
Nothing about it seemed vulgar or crude.
Song Hyunsoo awakened Yoon Jooho’s desire from an entirely different angle than before.
It wasn’t the simple, visual stimulus that arouses a man at first glance.
If anyone but Song Hyunsoo were there, he wouldn’t have felt such desire at the sight. In fact, he probably would have cooled down.
The urge to draw out a side of Song Hyunsoo that not even Hyunsoo himself—or any of his past partners—had ever seen.
And through that, a yearning to possess him in a way Yoon Jooho himself had never experienced.
In a way, it felt like tonight could be their wedding night.
Climbing onto the bed, Yoon Jooho grasped one end of the Handcuffs ringed in pink faux fur, spinning them around his finger.
“Want to make a bet?”
“A bet about what?”
Song Hyunsoo, still sprawled out, hesitated, propping himself up.
Yoon Jooho sat before him, pressing his lips to his shoulder, trailing slow kisses along his skin.
“Who can hold out the longest.”
“…”
“The one who wants it put in first loses.”
“I feel like I already know how that’ll turn out, even without a bet?”
Song Hyunsoo giggled, turning to look at Yoon Jooho kissing his shoulder.
“You’re always the one who jumps me first.”
Clack. With the cold metallic sound, the Handcuffs locked around Hyunsoo’s right wrist.
Song Hyunsoo’s expression turned mischievous. He’d thought it was just a toy, but now, actually cuffed, a strange curiosity lit his face.
Grabbing the other wrist a little rougher on purpose, Yoon Jooho cuffed the left as well. Then, looking down at him from above, he smiled.
“Who’s the one who can’t even wait for foreplay and begs me to put it in?”
“Fine. Let’s do it. Bet’s on.”
Haa…
Suddenly feeling complicated, Yoon Jooho propped his elbow on one knee and shook his head.
“Why are you sighing when you just said we’d do it?”
“You’re only like this with me, aren’t you?”
“Like what?”
“You’re only easy in front of me, right?”
Song Hyunsoo pulled at his cuffed wrists, stretching them taut as he grinned.
“Are you really asking? No matter what, nobody else could ever cuff me with this, toy or not.”
Yoon Jooho took his bare waist and pulled him up, steadying him on his knees.
“The moment you say ‘put it in,’ it’s over.”
“Alright. And the moment you put anything in—fingers or whatever—it’s over for you.”
The rules were set.
No kissing on the lips. No fingers inside.
Yoon Jooho, eyeing Song Hyunsoo handcuffed and practically naked, grinned mischievously.
“Should we make it even more interesting?”
“How?”
“Instead of a safe word, let’s have an insertion word.”
“A what… word?”
Song Hyunsoo chuckled.
“Saying ‘put it in’ is too obvious.”
“Hmm, how about Monroe’s Dad?”
“Monroe’s Dad?”
“Monroe’s Dad.”
Nodding in agreement, Yoon Jooho finally picked up the Blindfold.
“We have to use the Blindfold, too?”
“If we’re doing it, let’s do it right. Or… are you worried you’ll lose?”
“Why do you put it that way?”
“When you look at my face, you get worked up too fast.”
“Ha, just put it on already.”
With confidence in his voice, Song Hyunsoo watched as the Blindfold approached his eyelids.
The last thing he saw was Yoon Jooho’s silent, smiling face.
Looking down, faint light filtered through the gap between the Blindfold and the bridge of his nose.
But that was all.
The width of the lace fabric was enough to block anything more.
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