Work Text:
“Okay, what do you think?”
You turn slowly to show off the sundress you’re wearing to Nanami, standing in the open kitchen. There’s a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder, the two topmost buttons on his button-up undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He unties his apron and hangs it in its usual spot, then turns to look at you.
“It’s nice,” he says.
“You said that about all the other dresses too!”
“You have a good eye.”
“I have one more. Just— try not to be such a man about it.”
Nanami chuckles and dodges the decorative pillow you chuck at his head. He picks it up and crosses the room to place it back on the couch and sits down. You’re carefully unzipping the sundress and step out of it when it drops to the floor. His gaze follows the curve of your ass as you lean down to pick it up and gently fold it and place it onto the coffee table next to all the other ones you’ve shown him.
You’re pretty. Young and pretty and your mouth runs a mile a minute, always chattering about something he’s too old to understand. He loves your mother, he really does, but you’re so goddamn enticing, that he can’t tear his eyes from you. You pick up the last sundress and step inside it, pull it up your legs. You bounce up and down on your toes as you carefully pull the dress over your hips and your breasts bounce with the motions. Nanami feels his cock harden in his slacks and he adjusts himself.
You catch his movements and grin slyly, sliding your arms into the dress. You gather your hair in one hand and approach Nanami, seat yourself onto his lap. The swell of his cock presses against your ass. “Zip me up, please.”
He doesn’t move for a few long moments and then rumbles something under his breath. His hands are warm and yet his touch elicits gooseflesh on your skin. He traces the expanse of your back with his fingertips and hooks the button at the very top, then drags them down to the zipper. He’s careful, slowly pulling the zipper along until he reaches the top. But he doesn’t pull his hands away, instead placing them securely onto your waist.
“Thank you.” You turn your body just enough to peer at him from the corner of your eye and place your hands over his, tangle your fingers together. His thumb caresses the side of your finger. Then, you slide off his lap with ease, letting your hands fall apart. You cross the living room to check the tall hallway mirror on the wall, turn one way and the other, smooth your hands down the fabric over your front, your ass, rub the fabric between your fingertips. “What do you think?” You ask, practically skipping back into the living room to stand in front of Nanami. The shape of his cock is clear through his slacks. Heat pools in your underwear.
“Gorgeous,” he says smoothly. Your face erupts in flames and butterflies take flight in your stomach. You bump your foot against his shin before you ease yourself back onto his lap, chest to chest this time. His hands fall to your thighs on either side of his legs, knuckles caressing your skin. You lift your hand, trace his jugular with the pad of your finger.
You press your lips against the column of his neck, feel the rumble in his throat against your mouth. He moves, sits forward slightly, arms extending to reach behind you to undo the button at the top of the zipper. He slowly pulls the zipper down and you shrug the straps off your shoulders, over your arms and sit up to let the top half of your dress pool around your waist.
Nanami leans in, one hand on your tit, your nipple squeezed between his fingers, and takes the other into his mouth. He rolls his tongue over it and you gasp, throw your head back, arch your back. Your hips jerk forward, grind your clit against the bulge in his pants. Nanami rumbles against your nipple. Your cunt throbs — fuck you need him stuffed inside you right now.
You rise onto your knees and reach between your bodies. Your fingers fumble with his belt. Nanami gently sinks his teeth into your nipple and you gasp, lose your trail of thought and grab onto his shoulders. You hear the clinking of a belt and feel Nanami shift underneath you. He presses his tongue against your nipple and then retreats, pulls back for just a moment and then there are lips on your chest, on your collarbone, trailing up the side of your neck and along the curve of your jaw.
A hand pushes the hem of your sundress up to your hips. Fingers press against your clothed clit. Your moan dies in your throat as Nanami slots his lips against yours, a hand cradling your jaw. His mouth is hot and wet, forceful against yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and your lips part. His tongue explores your mouth like it hasn’t so many times already, swallowing your moans and little breaths as his fingers play with your clit.
“Please,” you mutter into his mouth. You feel him smile against your lips. Still, when his hand leaves your cunt you mewl pathetically and reach your own hand between your bodies to pull it back there. Your fingers graze the tip of his cock, precum pooling in the slit. “Please, dad, please, please—” You tug your wet underwear to the side and reach for his cock again but Nanami’s fingers brush you off.
Nanami pulls his mouth from yours, a silver string of spit connecting you and looks down. He has one hand on his cock, slowly pumping it and his other pulls your hand away from your underwear, hooking his fingers under them, his thumb slowly circling your clit. You bunch the skirt of the sundress behind you, your other hand on his shoulder for leverage. Nanami drags the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering your wetness. Finally, finally, he places it against your entrance.
“Take a deep breath,” he says and you do so. Slowly, you sink onto his cock. He stretches you so well, makes you feel so full as you take him inch by inch until he’s buried snugly in your cunt. You release your breath and breathe through as you adjust to him. Nanami drags his lips across your bare skin, dips his head down to sink his teeth into the plush of your tit. You clench around him involuntarily. “Breathe,” he reminds you.
His hands are large and warm and secure on your waist. He helps you when you slowly rise onto your knees and sink down again, pumping his cock into your wet, waiting pussy. He drags against your walls and you swear you feel every ridge, every goddamn vein as you ease into a slow pace. Nanami’s grip on you is tight, the veins in his forearm bulging as he helps lift your weight up and down on his shaft like you weigh nothing. You’re so wet around him, your thighs slapping against his with every thrust, dribbling onto his fancy slacks.
You speed up, chase that budding feeling in your stomach, the tightening coil. His breath is hot against your sweat-slick skin as he guides your hips to meet his. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust and fuck, he’s so hot and you want to come apart on his cock, let him abuse your cunt if he wants to and spill inside but your thighs are aching already. You slow your pace slightly, chest heaving and Nanami frowns.
“You didn’t cum,” he says, brows furrowed and leans in to latch his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck.
“This is… exhausting,” you breathe out and feel him chuckle against your neck.
“You’re 20 and too out of shape for sex?”
“Dad,” you whine, face flushing.
Nanami grabs hold of your waist and pushes himself to sit up. His cock plunges so deep into your cunt and you gasp, sink your nails into his shoulders. He stands, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you snug to him and moves across the room to the kitchen. The fat head of his cock thrusts shallowly into your cunt with every step he takes until you feel the cool surface of the kitchen counter under your ass.
You unlatch from him and lean back onto your elbows, then press your back against the stone countertop. Nanami pulls you towards him and takes over, thrusting into your wet, aching cunt. He manhandles your legs from around his waist and presses them apart until the sides of your knees hit the countertop. His cock is pistoning in and out of your pussy, his snapping against your ass, belt clinking against the counter.
The coil in your stomach tightens. You reach out, manage to snag the front of his shirt and drag Nanami down to you. His hips stutter for a moment before he resumes his pace, resting his weight on his forearms, hovering over your body. Your tits bounce with every thrust and fuck, you’re so pretty writhing under him, taking his cock so well, splattering your juices onto his slacks.
Your skin is on fire. It’s too uncomfortable and you want to claw your way out of it, meld into Nanami as his hips slam against your ass. You’re so close, so close but you can’t manage any directions, any pleas for him to speed up so you dip your hand between your bodies towards your clit and barely graze it. Electricity, white hot pleasure shoots through your body and your breathing stutters.
You come with a high-pitched moan, pussy spasming around Nanami’s cock as he fucks you through your orgasm like you’re trying to swallow him whole. Your thighs are quivering, aching as Nanami thrusts. There’s a hand on your thigh, pulling it around his waist and then the other too. Nanami’s pace gets sloppy all at once, hips desperately pounding into your cunt. He buries himself deep inside and spills, hot, hot, hot, inside with a low swear on his lips.
And then they’re pressing against your own lips as his hips stutter, pressing into you with bruising force. You don’t care, can’t care as his tongue dives into your mouth, wrapping around yours.
You’re sweaty and tired, thighs sticky.
Nanami slowly pulls away from you. His hair, usually slicked back and neat, is in disarray, stray wisps plastered to his sweaty forehead. His cheeks are flushed from exertion as he takes a moment to compose himself, his breath fanning your bare tits.
“Not bad,” you say between heaving breaths, “for an old man.”
He scoffs with a barely-concealed laugh as he pulls his softening cock out of your cunt. “I’m in my 40s, not geriatric.” His cum dribbles out of you and he angles his knee to catch the mess before it ruins the floor he mopped this morning. “I liked this dress the best,” he says, rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.
You tilt your head back with a laugh. “Thanks, dad.”