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Itto plays with your body like a boy with a new and interesting toy. You’re lying naked on the ground before him and he’s crouched between your legs with his coat and pants long since tossed across the room. His hardening dick is out, and he’s prodding and exploring you to see what noises and movement he can wring out of you. His claws trail up and down your sides to tickle you and you wiggle away. Occasionally he pinches at your nipples or firmly licks them and you huff air out of your nose, stubbornly keeping other, meeker noises trapped in your throat.
“Will you get on with it?” you snap at him, irritated at your own eagerness. You’d assumed Itto would be all talk and no show, the loudmouth braggart that he is, but you had underestimated that his competitiveness might extend to other areas. Such as the bedroom. He seems determined to drive you crazy before he actually gets to the good stuff.
“You’ll be glad I took the time to make sure you’re ready,” he counters smoothly. One hand lowers and presses against your opening, his palm grinding against you so suddenly that you suck in a hiss of breath.
You sit up and bat his hand away. “Don’t you dare. Not with those nails.” The disagreement in your voice is soft-tinged and Itto looks annoyed but stops pawing at you.
“Alright, but we’re not putting this,” he gestures to his engorged cock, “inside that,” he gestures to the hot, wet space between your legs, “without prep.”
He’s got a point. His dick is meaty, long and thick and with a few prominent veins. The head mushrooms out intimidatingly, bringing to mind a battering ram. You’ve never taken something this size before- it does look doable but your lack of experience with his size plus the long stretch of time since you’d last been laid doesn’t bode well.
Feeling bold, you suggest that you do the preparing. Itto raises a bushy eyebrow, but his gaze is expectant and hungry. You waffle with getting as comfortable as you can. Your legs are bent and feet planted firmly on either side of him, presented like a feast fit for a king. You don’t make eye contact with his handsome face when you finally trace your opening with a finger. You rub circles for a moment before plunging in. Something about him watching, kneeling and waiting like a good boy makes your own hesitant touches more electrifying than any other time you’d touched yourself in the past. You smoothly add another finger, fucking yourself gently before scissoring your hole wider. Itto leans over you and you freeze, but he only picks up a flask from the messy low table near your head. He uncaps it and pours some of the contents over your fingers and messy hole. A cold, goopy substance wets you and aids you. Suddenly even you can hear the slick noises your fingers make as they slide in and out, twisting and stretching inside you. Itto pours some of the mysterious lubricant onto his hand, then begins jerking himself off.
The room is filled with the sounds of skin sliding on skin and heavy breathing for a while. It’s almost like a game, neither of you touching the other but both equally getting off on watching. You fit a third finger in, and then with some difficulty a fourth. The squeeze is tight and you let out a soft “haah” as your legs twitch. Itto notices the movement and leans forward again, this time to pull your fingers from your hungry, grasping body and raise them to his mouth. While still jerking himself he wraps his tongue around each finger, leaving them wet with his own saliva but taking the combination of lube and your natural essence for himself.
“Dude, that’s so unnecessary.” You’re a little grossed out but still into it. His eyes shine with mirth as he finishes with a final loud smack of his lips. He rocks his hips forward and teasingly strokes the length of himself against you. Now that it’s so close you feel anxious. Itto is not a small man in any sense of the word. You’re thankful he’s taking things slow but you have no doubt that if he wanted to force the issue, he could.
“I’ll start slow,” he says, the tip already pressing against you. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
Your mouth, again, is faster than your brain. “I’m not afraid of you.” You roll your eyes.
Itto looks almost proud of you. “I know you’re not,” his voice is a happy rumble. He pushes in without further warning, and any response you were formulating gets choked in your throat. Oh. Oh. Your own small fingers did a valiant job trying to prepare you, but the stretch is still incredible. It feels like he’s pushing the very air out of your lungs and replacing it with his cock. You whine and he pauses for a moment. His eyes find yours and you breathe, try to relax, and nod. He continues until he’s in all the way, heavy balls nestling against the curve of your ass, and you don’t know if the throb you feel is your own body, his member, or both. Slowly he slides out until just the head is in you before he pumps back into you, groaning.
The sensation is all too much, and you flail for something to hold onto and ground you. Your fingertips loop into his spiked collar, one of the few things he’s still wearing, pulling it taut against the back of his neck. Itto shifts forward from the tug and freezes. You’re almost afraid to look him in the eye, but you gather the last of your frayed nerves and peek through your eyelashes at him.
The half-oni man looks absolutely feral. More so than usual. If someone had told you that was even a possibility you would have paused to think about it, then dismissed the idea outright. His eyes burn deep amber and his diamond-shaped pupils look cat-like as they stare into you. His lips pull back over sharp teeth in what might be a grin but looks more like a beast flashing its teeth before it attacks. Your pussy clenches automatically when he growls, a bassy noise straight from his chest.
Your emotions are warring. One side, the logical side that wants you to be able to walk away from this says, “Oh no! He’s going to destroy me!” The other side, the primal horny monkey part of your brain you usually beat back with a stick says, “Oh no… he’s going to destroy me.”
He surges forward, the tip of his dick mashing directly into the spongy, extra sensitive areas inside you. The force sends you rocking back a few inches, the beginnings of an unpleasant but ignorable friction burn on your back contrasting with the burn of you stretching around the intrusion of a fat cock. You let out a noise between a yelp and squeal, and then hate yourself for the lapse in control.
Itto lets out a huff of warm air against your forehead, eyes still unnervingly watching you.
“Cute sound. Let’s see if I can get you to do that again.”
You don’t even know how he can look like a starved beast and be pounding into your body like this, yet not sound even a little wrecked. You close your eyes and surrender. Embarrassing mewls and moans spill from you as you’re pushed to and fro, bullied by this mountain of a man and his dick. Itto’s head lowers to your neck and he nips you gently. The pleasure-pain of his teeth nicking you only turns your body into jelly faster, and you start to feel like a toy for him to seek pleasure in. The thought makes you even more aroused, and you file that away to process later when your back isn’t getting blown out.
He pauses for a moment to pull out and adjust positions, lifting you like a doll until you rest in his lap while he sits with his legs folded beneath him seiza style. Your thighs burn from their valiant effort to wrap around his waist. Your head lolls forward onto his shoulder while he finds your opening again and thrusts in, resuming his brutal pace with no preamble. He can reach deeper into you this way, with your own body weight and gravity working to keep you impaled. You’re saying words in between your incomprehensible moaning, something about him breaking you, but he only huffs out another laugh and reaches one big, clawed hand to play with your nipples while the other remains around your waist to steady and lift you. Something about the fact that he doesn’t even need both hands sends shockwaves through your core, and your jolt and spasm, finding your release with your face buried against his chest, fingers scrabbling against the deep red markings that tattoo him. Drool pools in your mouth and drips from the corner of your lips, and through the bursts of pleasure you know you’ve coated his thighs and waist in an unreasonable amount of slick. Itto makes you ride him through your orgasm, his thrusts slow and deep until you whine from the overstimulation.
You’re pleased he’s at least panting now. He’s not nearly as unaffected by the rutting as he’d probably like, but you know Itto is the kind of guy that can’t really hide his true feelings for long.
“You still conscious?” he asks, head titled like an inquisitive puppy with his cock still seated in your abused, gently clenching hole. You let out a long exhausted moan in reply. You’re fine, but it’ll be a bit before you get your full strength back. “Alright, good,” he continues, like you weren’t half out of your mind. He squirms a little and looks a little… nervous? “I’m not done, but if you want to call it a night…” he trails off, then makes a lewd gesture to indicate he’d be willing to finish himself off another way. Is he perhaps used to his partners tapping out? It’s sweet he’s giving you an out, but the primal horny monkey is out now and it decides it’s not going back into the cage until Itto’s cum is somewhere in or on your body.
You stretch up to kiss him. It’s the first time your lips have touched his, which is a bit backwards now that you think of it. The kiss starts chaste and close-mouthed. His lips are chapped but soft, a bit plush even. His body heat is comforting and you practically purr. You’re not really sure where to go from there and start to falter and pull back when he finally leans into it. He kisses like he does anything: it’s a competition and he tries his best to overwhelm the opponent. His tongue pokes out at you and you nip his lower lip, then open up for him, letting him search your mouth.
Itto stands while you cling to his shoulders, mouth still slotted against his. This time you lick into his mouth, carefully exploring his teeth. He has an oddly sweet taste, like sugary cinnamon, and you remember he has a habit of participating in the local kids’ beetle fights with snacks on the line. He actually moans into your mouth, a deep and greatly satisfying noise that starts getting you worked up again. A huge warm hand cradles your lower back, keeping you pressed against him and he walks over to his bed. He breaks the kiss and almost tosses you onto the springy surface. Why he wanted to fuck you on the floor when his bed is surprisingly soft and comfy, you’ll never know. You can feel the fur of the pelts he has strewn on it under your hands, silky soft and cool on your feverish skin. Itto wastes no time in following you down. He kisses up from your left knee, sucking and leaving a trail of purpling hickies along the inside of your thigh, white tousled hair tickling your skin.
“Fuck, Itto!” you grunt, twisting away from his torture. He tuts and pins you down with a splayed hand on your hip. You can’t even wiggle while he uses what looks like the bare minimum of his strength to hold you. He leans down and licks the apex of your thighs. His tongue is just as big and warm and wet and it felt when you were kissing him, and your protest turns into a strangled moan. He spends some time playing with you, licking and kissing and nipping until your lower body is covered with enough small bruises for his liking.
You’re ready again now, and he knows it. He positions himself against your sopping hole, gives himself a few cursory strokes as he lines up, and then pushes back into you. You let out another pathetic noise, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. It’s almost too much against your too-sensitive walls, your eyes roll back a little. Itto keeps going, bit by bit, until he’s once again fully seated in you. Dazed, you ask him to just stay there forever. The stretch is so good, it hurts a little but feels many more times pleasurable. A tender look comes over his face, brows softening as he chuckles.
“You say the cutest shit.” He sounds fond.
The moment doesn’t last long because suddenly he’s pulling back and thrusting into you, taking it from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. You keen, back arching as he hits all the good spots on his way in again and again and again. He grabs your ankles and places them on his shoulder, hardly even slowing down to do so, and you’re placed in sort of a mating press while he digs into you. The wild look is back in his eyes as he chases his own pleasure, grunting and groaning and panting so loudly it makes you think that someone will definitely hear this if they come anywhere near this room. The wet sound of his body slapping into yours fills the space, a consistent rhythm backing the guttural noises the two of you are making.
He leans down further, seeking another kiss and, perhaps inadvertently, almost folding you in half. Tears are streaming down your face now, you can tell you probably look fucked silly but the blooming tension in your groin is all you care about. Itto also looks close, eyes turning hazy and sweat beading on his forehead. You swear you could feel his balls swell when they thwack against you. A growl rips from his throat as the steady pounding of his hips roughens and speeds up slightly. It’s almost too much, it IS too much! You try to cover your face with your arms, but he growls again, so loudly it almost scares you. One of his hands traps yours and pulls them away and above your head, pinning them to the bed. The other circles your neck. His grasp isn’t tight enough to restrict blood or airflow, but it feels like a collar of your very own, keeping you where he wants you. His weight almost crushes you, the heat and musky, masculine smell of him is overwhelming your senses. The look on his face is intense, somehow still focused even while he frays at the edges.
You’re already at the cliff’s edge and you tumble over when he rumbles out, “Look at me! Look at me when you cum. I’m not going to miss the face you make again.” You snap. Your toes curl, your whole body convulses almost like you’re trying to buck him off. You can only squeal out his name, repeated like a prayer and with the occasional “please” sprinkled in. Your vision blurs and you can hear the sound of rushing water in your ears. You realize he’s made you cum so hard you’re almost on the verge of passing out. You can still feel his fat cock spearing into you, but his hips stutter and he sloppily pushes into you one, twice, three times before you feel the heat of his cum spill.. He grunts loudly in your ear, stilling for a few seconds before he carefully begins peeling away from you. His hands release yours, but you simply have no strength left to move anyway. Your senses are returning to you, and you look down at where your body is almost folded over.
There’s so much cum, it’s spilling out of you. Pearly rivulets push out from where you two are connected and start to trail down your body. His softening dick twitches and spurts again and you weakly moan. Itto pulls out with a wet noise you’d normally find disgusting, and his cock lets out a few final shots that decorate your belly with ropes of semen. He backs up so you can finally lay down flat, legs akimbo, chest heaving and eyes fluttering closed.
You don’t even realize he’d gone somewhere until he returns with damp cloth and starts to wipe you off.
“I can do it,” you mumble in a way that has no energy in it. Indeed, you make no attempt to move or take the cloth from him. He chuckles lowly and continues to wipe you up. For a man so large he’s quite gentle, which is a blessing as your body is sore and hurting all over now. When he’s done with you he does what he can for the pelt the two of you were fucking on, then gets up and leaves again to an adjoining room. He comes back without your combined mess painting his lower half and with a glass of water. He opens a tiny trunk by the bed and finds some little hard, star-shaped candies and rice crackers. You’re propped up on pillows as he feeds and waters you, popping treats into your mouth until you finally shake your head when you’re satisfied. He eats and drinks what you don’t, and crawls into bed next to you. The heady musk of sex hangs heavy in the room like an expensive incense. His arm curls around you, pulling you into his thick, muscled side.
Itto tells you you’re welcome to stay and rest as long as you like. After a moment he adds that you can visit him when you like, too. He kisses your forehead softly. Your leaden eyelids close and you smile. As you drift off you mumble that you’ll have to take him up on that.