[ Things that are true: Aomine would be able to find satisfaction with a Victoria's Secret magazine and a thick sock.
Things that are also true: Aomine can still tell that Katze is fucking good at what he does. His lewd noise of mounting satisfaction rises into an outright shout of surprise and pleasure, because he might be losing it a little but that his throat, isn't it? That's his throat that's closed around him, pressing hotly all around half of his dick, his hums thrumming over his skin and teasing every nerve.
Both hands land in Katze's hair, curling through red strands and holding on for dear life. He grits his teeth against a hitched whine of loss when Katze pulls back, and then presses his head and shoulders back when he comes back down, his thighs going flat and open against the mattress just because he needs to be open, needs to feel more. Katze's hands provide with darting fingers and knowing touches, and Aomine responds with groans of approval, which then, with distressing abruptness, turn into pitched gasps. ]
Hhaaa...ah, ah, sh...it, Katze -
[ There's a little coiling, a quick tightness, right down at the base of his dick. His balls quiver; he feels a knot cinch in his throat.
He knows exactly what it means. ]
Kat...ze, I'm...h-hold--
[ On. Hold on. He does try to say it, and he does try to do that himself, but Aomine is a little late with the request.
He comes in a fluid, startling rush, a few scant minutes into the best blowjob of his life (now that he has something to compare it to); his expression immediately reflects his heartfelt heartbreak over this, even as waves of glorious afterglow wash over him. ]
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Things that are also true: Aomine can still tell that Katze is fucking good at what he does. His lewd noise of mounting satisfaction rises into an outright shout of surprise and pleasure, because he might be losing it a little but that his throat, isn't it? That's his throat that's closed around him, pressing hotly all around half of his dick, his hums thrumming over his skin and teasing every nerve.
Both hands land in Katze's hair, curling through red strands and holding on for dear life. He grits his teeth against a hitched whine of loss when Katze pulls back, and then presses his head and shoulders back when he comes back down, his thighs going flat and open against the mattress just because he needs to be open, needs to feel more. Katze's hands provide with darting fingers and knowing touches, and Aomine responds with groans of approval, which then, with distressing abruptness, turn into pitched gasps. ]
Hhaaa...ah, ah, sh...it, Katze -
[ There's a little coiling, a quick tightness, right down at the base of his dick. His balls quiver; he feels a knot cinch in his throat.
He knows exactly what it means. ]
Kat...ze, I'm...h-hold--
[ On. Hold on. He does try to say it, and he does try to do that himself, but Aomine is a little late with the request.
He comes in a fluid, startling rush, a few scant minutes into the best blowjob of his life (now that he has something to compare it to); his expression immediately reflects his heartfelt heartbreak over this, even as waves of glorious afterglow wash over him. ]