He moaned, loudly, under the older girl. “S-senpai…ah, senpai…” this is the kind of thing that happens when someone gets a parfait to go…
The cold vanilla ice cream slipped down his bare chest, followed by her hot tongue, leaving glistening trails in it’s wake. A strawberry strayed from the rest of the mix, tickling his stomach before being captured and brought into her mouth.
“Does it feel good, Ryoma?” She tightened her grip on his wrists, held securely above his head with her right arm, and roamed his cold, wet chest with the other. He tugged a pulled for freedom, but she was stronger and bigger and straddled him so that his legs could serve no purpose other than flailing. He groaned again, saliva dripping from his opened mouth and down his chin. His tongue wriggled inside his mouth for attention. “Do you like this?”
“Ahh, ________-senpai!” He pulled up with his elbows, his back arched sharply, tears of pleasure welled in his eyes. In a split moment, when her grip loosened just a bit, Ryoma flipped her over and pinned her to the bed. He huffed and puffed, licking his lips, pressed his vanilla flavored chest into her covered breasts, and whispered. “Mada mada dane.”
“Ah? Then show me how it’s done, Echizen.”
He covered her mouth with his own.
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