30 day challenge of naughty things continues!  Day five commences!

Day Five:  Blow job

Warnings:  Urm… *points up*  and another attempt at some sort of humor/hotness, Naoto overanalyzing things, and Kanji being impatient.  Sort of kind of a companion piece to this headcanon right here, in which Naoto got to give into her male urges (also not work safe).  I usually, somehow, have some desire to write Kanji performing oral activities on Naoto while she wears… certain things… so I wanted to switch it up this time.

And um… this is probably the dirtiest one I’ve written, I’m going to hide forever now, because there’s still 25 more days to get through and I clearly had no idea what I was getting myself into >.<

***

The first complaint Naoto has is that the name is terribly misleading.  For one thing, there is no “blowing” involved.  "Blowing,“ by definition, means that you pucker your lips together and gently push out a gust of air.  Therefore, this particular oral activity has nothing to do with "blowing.”  

The second complaint goes back to the misleading name.  Calling it a “job” is completely off-base.  Naoto Shirogane has a job.  She is a detective.  She solves cases.  That is a job, thank you very much.  This activity, however, is nowhere near being a job, unless if you’re some sort of street walker but there are names for that profession already in use.

So two complaints right off the bat.

Kanji sighs.  

He considers himself to be a rather patient young man when it comes to one Naoto Shirogane.  Crushing on her for months, finally getting up the nerve to say something and being told “I have no time for romance,” then being told “perhaps I have time, I do seem to have feelings for you” and taking things excruciatingly slow.  It’s not that he wanted to slam her into a bed right away, but a smidgen of affection would’ve been nice.  

Of course, now, they’re sexually active.  And it’s great, it’s fuckin’ awesome…

… except for this one little thing.

It wouldn’t bug him so much if not for the fact that he's indulged in everything she’s wanted.  He’s gotten down on his knees for her, has let his imagination guide him into giving her an apparently inappropriately named “blow job,” his lips wet and teasing around a store bought penis strapped to her waist.  He’s gotten on all fours for her, has felt her fingers inside of him, has felt that hard piece inside of him and closed his eyes, letting her pretend.

And it always, always feels good.  He’s not complaining about what he’s done for her – far from it, but… doesn’t he deserve a little… you know…?

You know! 

And now Naoto sighs, her face a touch bit flushed.  She fidgets in front of him, mutters something about it still being a stupid, misleading name, then she slowly drops to her knees in front of him.  Pants and boxers are taken off by small, trembling fingers, her eyes widening when she realizes just how turned on he is with anticipation.  She says something about there being no way it will fit and Kanji would take it as a compliment if he weren’t so anxious.  

She takes a deep breath and leans forward, trying to remember the things she’s looked up when it came to doing this “job.”  By “look up” she means “talk to Rise,” which had been an uncomfortable discussion involving practicing on Topsicles.  According to Rise she’s a “natural” with “good techniques,” and Naoto knew it was meant as a compliment but the leer in Rise’s eyes followed by the smirk had only left her flustered.  Still, if she applied her Topsicle training – ugh, how ridiculous – the results should be…

“Shit, s-shit Naoto!”

Of course her training had not included a tight grip on the back of her hair.  Naoto cries out in surprise and suddenly the small licks she had been applying turn into half of Kanji Tatsumi’s penis in her mouth.  She’s blushing, mind racing as she tries to reorganize herself.  This skips quite a bit of her quote, unquote “training,” so she mentally tosses out the “teasing licks” portion of the evening.  She tries to pull her head back, tries to create some sort of rhythm, but Kanji beats her to it.  He’s keeping her head in place, bucking his hips, thrusting himself into her warm mouth and moaning so loud that she’s thankful they’re at her apartment and not his house.  

Perhaps she should have listened to Rise when she had suggested holding her head in place while she put the Topsicle in her mouth.  She had assumed that the girl was being a pervert – which she was – and ignored her advice on guys being much too excited when it came to girls doing this sort of thing.  She especially ignored the segment on how eager senpai had been, tee hee!

Eventually she gets use to the rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as she braces herself by holding onto Kanji’s legs.  Now they’re both moaning together, though Naoto’s sounds are muffled for obvious reasons.  Kanji keeps chanting shit shit shit and I’m going to, oh fuck fuck fuck!  It occurs to her what “I’m going to” means and her eyes widen.  Again, she had ignored Rise Kujikawa’s school of sexual activities, deciding to ignore her advice about swallowing.  Now that the moment is approaching she can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have to do that, how it will feel, how it will taste, how much will slip into her mouth, how-

Kanji lets go of her hair at the last minute so she can pull away.  Unfortunately – or fortunately, she’s not sure – she notices a bit too late.  Kanji throws his head back, reaching his climax with a loud, rather flattering cry of her name.  He needs to take a couple of deep breaths to get his lungs to function, his throat hoarse with a lazy, happy smile on his face.  That smile immediately shifts into a look of panic when he sees the state of his girlfriend’s face.  There’s a bit on her lips, a small amount caressing her cheek, and he’s never seen her so flustered – not even on the day they slept together on the first time, or on the day she wore that strap on.

“S-s-shit, I… let me get you a tissue, or somethin’… I… fuck, I-”

Naoto is quiet for a long moment before she closes her eyes, slowly running her tongue across her lips.  It’s not an unpleasant taste, she thinks.  She can’t quite put it into words so she feels the need to lick her lips again, trying to get a better taste of the flavor.  The second time isn’t bad at all, in fact, she thinks she’s starting to like it.  A third lick and she knows that it’s something she’s enjoying, the texture, the taste, the sensation of her boyfriend at the tip of her tongue.

Kanji’s completely caught in the image in front of him.  He knows that this is what he wanted, but that doesn’t mean that he actually expected to get it.  He expected a bigger fight on her end, perhaps a research paper on why detectives didn’t do that sort of thing.  Instead, he’s got Naoto Shirogane on her knees in front of him, panting softly from the – still poorly named – “blow job” she had just granted him with, “Oh fuck me,” he whispers breathlessly.

Naoto actually smirks, a look in her eyes that promises one of those nights where his voice is going to be gone by morning.

“Well, Tatsumi-kun, if you insist.”