LEE HEESEUNG ◃ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ { ꜱᴍᴜᴛ }

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▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃❤︎,HEESEUNG

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❤︎,
HEESEUNG

SINNERS NEVER CONFESS
(smut! i repeat smut!)

Gosh, he felt like a sinner in a confession booth. He was pathetic. In actuality, everything he did in his life seemed pathetic. But right now was the most he ever felt pathetic. Though that wasn't the word to even describe him right now. Not now as he strokes his cock, not now that his breath is shaky, and not now that he could feel his stomach churn. No, this is what he does, this is what he has become.

He strokes his cock slowly. He doesn't want to make himself cum. Not now. He wants to savor the feeling, he wants to relish it. This feeling of sin. This feeling of lust. A loser like himself masturbated to the thought of a girl who didn't even know his name. He was so pathetic.

But it felt right. It feels right as he imagines pushing his tip into your already sopping cunt. Hearing the sounds, your moans, the sound of your wet folds being spread, made him shiver in excitement.

He stroked faster. He was disgusting, truly, utterly, disgusting. He knew it. He's heard people say it. He has said it about himself. But he still can't stop himself. He can't stop himself from fantasizing about you. His mind races with thoughts, of what it would feel like. To be inside you, to fuck you.

"Fuck" he curses. His cock is throbbing and aching. His hands are covered in his own sticky pre-cum, his balls feel tight, and his hips are bucking. His body wants to release. "Ah," his body tenses and his muscles flex. He lets out a low groan. He couldn't hold back any longer.

He imagines himself thrusting his hips into yours. He imagined himself filling you with his cum, and in return your cunt clenching his cock, squeezing every last drop. Your face, contorting into pleasure, you quivering around him. Your moans, oh how he wished he could hear them.

His pace quickens, and he can feel his balls tightening. His cock is leaking, he's so close. He's so close to his release. He wanted to fuck you, to make you his. The image of you straddling him, grinding on him, the heat of your body against his was overwhelming. He could hear your voice in his head, calling him pathetic, humiliating him, and then finally the image of your face. The way your hair would stick to your face, the way your eyes would shine with arousal, and the way your smile would curl as you watched him writhe underneath you.

Oh god, that smile. He loved that smile. The way your teeth would shine when you smiled, the way your eyes would light up, the way your face would scrunch. Just the thought of you was enough.

With a small gasp and a whimper, his eyes rolled back into his head and his legs trembling, and with his hand stroking his cock slowly until his breathing evened out. He was so close to calling your name, so close, but he couldn't do that, not even in the safety of his own home.

But he just couldn't hold back anymore. Not with his impending climax. He moaned your name as he came. He wanted to hear his own voice call your name, he wanted you to hear him moan your name, and he wanted to feel embarrassed about it.

He let go of his cock, letting his hand fall limply at his side. He was completely drained. He had cum so hard. And you hadn't even been here. Just the mere thought of you had done it for him. It was humiliating. You had so much control over him, even when you weren't around. Even if you didn't know his name.

"What would you think of me now?" He wondered aloud before chuckling sadly. "Heeseung, you really are a pathetic loser, huh."

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⏰ Last updated: May 15 ⏰

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