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There was a growing ache in Inumaki’s knees, and his thighs were slowly growing numb, but Inumaki couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now. He wriggled on the spot, trying to will the blood back into his legs, and hummed. The roll of tense muscles beneath his splayed fingers didn’t go amiss to him. It was subtle, barely there, and if he hadn’t had his palms pressed to Gojo’s thighs, he was sure he would’ve missed it. There was no missing the way the cock twitched in his mouth however. A drop of pre slid onto the back of his tongue and Inumaki flicked brown eyes up, curious to know if Gojo’s expression had changed, if his teacher looked as affected by this as Inumaki felt. It was difficult to tell considering his teacher’s blindfold there never seemed too far out of sight, but they’d done this enough times that Inumaki knew which signs to look out for; the tight smile, the way Gojo tipped his head up an extra inch, and the curling of fingers in Inuamki’s hair, tugging gently at the roots. “I’d have to check my calendar first,” Gojo said to whoever was on the other end of the phone to him. Gojo’s fingers slid over Inumaki’s scalp until his entire hand laid flat, and he gently pushed down. Inumaki got the silent message and he closed his eyes, sliding further down until the thick head of Gojo’s cock filled his airway, until his throat burnt with the need to breathe. Gojo kept pushing and pushing, until Inumaki’s eyes started to sting with unshed tears as he spluttered quietly around the intrusion. “I’m a very busy man,” Gojo carried on, his voice barely wavering. “Everyone wants my attention these days.” Warmth flared in Inumaki’s chest. He knew that those words were aimed at him, could feel it in the way they crawled down his spine and settled hotly in his stomach. It had him shivering, the muscles of his throat fluttering around the weight of Gojo’s cock. Inumaki felt the way Gojo drew his entire body up to take in a quiet, sharp inhale as Inumaki swallowed thickly. “You’ll just have to get in line,” Gojo breathed on his exhale. There was a small tug on his hair and Inumaki drew back an inch, just enough to feel air creep its way into his lungs, and he made a small noise that got lost in the back of his throat. Above him, Gojo laughed, and he spread his thighs a little wider. “Is that so?” Gojo said. “Well, that’s news to me.” Gojo hummed and something about the noise, about the certainty of it, had Inumaki cocking his head, tilting his chin up until the head of Gojo’s cock brushed across the roof of his mouth. There was an intensity in that gaze that pierced him, a knowing mischief that had Inumaki pressing his thighs together, trapping his cock tighter in the fabric of his pants. “Give me an hour,” Gojo said. Inumaki narrowed his eyes and flicked the tip of his tongue against the sensitive nerve that lined the underside of Gojo’s cock. It had its desired effect, making the older man’s usually jubilant grin waver, the muscles of his cheeks twitching as Inumaki suckled at the head and lapped his tongue across his slit. Gojo straightened up in his seat and tightened his hold on platinum blonde hair. “Make it two.” Inumaki glared harder and he sank down in one single bob, hitting the back of his throat with Gojo’s cock, and he swallowed hard, nose nestled in the neat trim of white pubes. “Three,” Gojo whispered, “three hours.” Something clattered across the floor, shattered, and came to a stop. Inumaki didn’t have time to think about it as Gojo cupped his face in both hands and yanked him up. A string of saliva hung from his chin and he felt it snap, a thick drop landing on the back of his hand. When Inumaki cracked his eyes open, he was met with an all too familiar smirk that had him melting into those hands. “Well aren’t you demanding today,” Gojo teased, and Inumaki could only imagine the look that was underneath that blindfold. Blue eyes bright and playful, swirling with a subtle hunger few rarely witnessed. Inumaki had once. It had been too much for him. And yet, he always wanted to see it again. “Salmon,” Inumaki whispered, shuddering at how raw his voice already sounded. Gojo, on the other hand, only seemed to grin wider. He hummed and reached down, laying large palms around Inumaki’s hips and nudging him to his feet. Inumaki let himself be guided, let his teacher pull him between long legs until he was staring down at that stupidly obnoxious blindfold. “That’s why I like you, To~ge . You have no shame.” He nodded. There was little room for shame in his life. It was a wasted emotion that did little to help with anything , and Inumaki preferred exhausting himself in other, more pleasant ways.Another low hum filled the air. Inumaki settled his hands onto Gojo’s shoulders, tracing his thumbs over the lean muscles hidden beneath his jacket, kneading them the best he could through the material. Gojo moved his hands slowly, tucked his thumbs underneath the hem of Inumaki’s shirt and into the band of his pants. “Were you a good student and prepared yourself like I asked?” Inumaki nodded, screwing his fingers a little tighter into Gojo’s jacket. “Let’s see then,” Gojo sang and he tugged Inumaki’s pants over his waist. “No underwear? My, my, Inumaki. You should be more careful. Somebody,” Gojo slid his hands over bare skin and cupped one of Inumaki’s cheeks firmly, “could take advantage of such a careless mistake,” and Gojo slid two fingers between them, pressing gently against the jewelled plug nestled neatly against his muscles. “Or maybe,” Gojo whispered, “that’s exactly what you want.”“Salmon roe.” His pants slid down easily, pooling around his ankles in a soft swish of fabric, and Gojo hummed again. Gojo’s lips twisted further up, and he dug his fingers into the lean muscles of Inumaki’s hips, thumbs brushing up and down the soft v that framed his cock. “I wonder what the others would say if they knew just how greedy you were.” A frown creased Inumaki’s brows and he pinched Gojo’s cheek. "Bonito flakes.” Gojo only laughed and he leaned back in the seat he was in, letting Inumaki see just how long he was. “Alright, alright.” He patted his thighs with one hand and Inumaki wasted little time in kicking his pants away before he clambered into his teacher's lap, one knee on either side of his waist. Gojo’s hands were on him in an instant, sinking back into the dip of his ass to trace the rim of the plug with one finger. “I’ve certainly kept you waiting long enough, I suppose.” Inumaki had barely finished nodding before Gojo tugged the plug free, almost yanking it from him with a wet pop that echoed just as wetly in the room.The cool air of the room kissed his warm muscles and he shivered the moment Gojo slid two fingers into the slick heat. Gojo pushed further into him, long fingers going and going, before he stopped, twisted his fingers, and spread them apart until Inumaki arched into the touch. His mouth fell slack and he dug his fingers further into Gojo’s shoulders, trembling as Gojo circled that sensitive spot within him. “You’re such a good boy for me,” Gojo purred and Inumaki moaned. There was something devilishly hot about the way Gojo had with words, the way his voice was always dripping molten hot, enticing a full body shudder from him. “Let’s give you what you deserve then.”Inumaki lifted himself up onto his knees at the gentle nudge of Gojo’s hands and he let the older man guide his own cock to Inumaki’s waiting hole. He let Gojo squeeze his hips before he started to inch back down, until he felt the familiar press of that thick head to his entrance. His muscles parted willingly, just as they always did, and that first initial stretch as he pushed down, the first sense of knowing that he was about to be full, had Inumaki groaning loudly into the room. He always did forget what his teacher’s cock felt like, how tight his muscles worked as he sunk down, inch by slow inch, dragging himself down the entire length until it was nestled deeply within him, reaching parts of him nobody else ever had.Words escaped him, and his thoughts were a scrambled mess. He clenched and enjoyed the subtle way Gojo tensed underneath him, the subtle digging of fingers into his sides, and the subtle sharp inhale he tried to hide. He wanted to hear more of those noises, feel more of that winding tension, and Inumaki pushed himself back until Gojo could see him . The way he arched his chest out, the lithe line of his body that centred around Gojo’s length, and the way his cock broke free from the hem of his shirt to stand proudly to attention, the head slick with pre. Inumaki made sure Gojo saw everything , had his full attention, before he lifted himself up two inches and dropped himself back down, punching a gasp from his throat. Gojo’s lips parted and his teacher tilted his head back an inch. It wasn’t enough. Inumaki lifted himself up until only the head of Gojo’s cock remained within him, and he fell, skin slapping against skin, tingles shooting up his spine and curling the tips of his toes. He could feel that hot weight within him twitch, could feel the drops of pre paint his inner walls, and he started to bounce, clenching his muscles on the way up, relaxing them on every drop of his body. “Have you been practising without me?”Inumaki shook his head with a soft whine, heat rising to his cheeks. There was nobody else and they both knew that, but the hint that Inumaki would consider doing something like this with anybody else, the thought that he could possible be satisfied with anybody else? He shook his head again, “Fish flakes, fish flakes,” he chanted, and he continued to bounce, his movements growing sporadic.Over and over. Dragging Gojo’s cock against all of his sensitive nerves, clinging to Gojo’s shoulders as he fucked himself back onto that length, rolling his hips and grinding the head against that one spot that had him seeing stars. He heard the first audible noise from Gojo that he was doing something right. A small grunt, barely there, more of an exhale than anything, but Inumaki took it, clung to it, and longed to hear more.“I can’t let you have all the fun.” Inumaki opened his eyes at that, had a question brewing on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly he was thrown onto the couch they’d been using. The air was knocked out of his lungs and any glimpse of the ceiling he had was overshadowed by Gojo’s face. “Now,” Gojo whispered, and he shoved Inumaki’s knees up to his chest, “it’s my turn.”Gojo snapped his hips once, hard, and Inumaki’s eyes widened. He choked on his next breath and he buried his fingers in the front of Gojo’s shirt. The next thrust had him arching up off the couch and wrapping his legs around Gojo’s waist. The third thrust had Inumaki throwing his head back with a guttural cry.Gojo wasn’t a kind fuck. He knew where to aim and he aimed hard and fast. There was little care in his thrusts, little thought except his own need, his own pleasure, his own desire to see Inumaki unravel, and he did. Far too quickly. His head spun with every thrust that hit his nerves, sending them into overdrive and relighting every single synapse within him. Gojo curled one large hand underneath Inumaki’s back, grabbed a hold of his waist with the other, and pulled him back into each harsh snap of his hips until Inumaki was being shoved up and down the couch, until he had to reach one hand behind him to hold onto the armrest for purchase.His first orgasm hit him out of nowhere and Inumaki cried as he painted his own front, moaning as Gojo refused to stop. The only time Gojo slowed down was so that he could sit back onto his knees and wrap both hands around Inumaki’s waist, large fingers almost wrapping the entire way around. He dug bruises into Inumaki’s skin with his thumbs and curled his lips up with a salacious leer. “Let’s go for a second,” Gojo said, and Inumaki couldn’t stop him even if he wanted to. Relentlessly Gojo fucked him, and fucked him, and fucked him. He nailed his prostate over and over, dragged him into each thrust, drove every nerve wild with sensitivity, and chased every thought from Inumaki’s mind until he couldn’t decide if he wanted Gojo to stop or carry on.Inumaki writhed as a second orgasm had his entire body tensing, tears finally clouding the corners of his eyes. He reached one hand out to weakly pat at Gojo’s wrist, silently asking him to slow down. Gojo did. He slowed his thrusts down to a gentle roll and leaned back over Inumaki until there was nothing else. He cupped Inumaki’s face with gentle fingers and tilted his chin up, pulling Inumaki’s gaze to a dangerously soft smile that was anything but. “Somebody wanted three hours of my time, and I plan to use all three. Think you can handle it?” Inumaki swallowed, tightened the hold his legs had around Gojo’s waist, and pulled him deeper into him. Gojo’s face cracked with a grin. “Aren’t you just the perfect little student.”