Quite Scandalous ❣️ d. osamu & n. chūya [NSFW]

03 | Gardenias and Wisterias

(Last Name) had her luck, that was for sure.

How she was so right that meeting the new stranger with a voice so enticing meant he had to be able to sing. She had always loved a man who could sing. But it wasn't just his voice that caused her self-control level to be completely devoured by her sexual hunger, he was also an attractive man who of which, was aware, she had always loved a man who was aware. That simple look of beguiling eyes hiding his intentions had meant something to her. It meant that luckily, they were thinking the same thing.

It was to be brought to their situation at hand, completely enveloped and selfishly taking each other as their own. Both were reluctant to give up the source of dominance to the other, thus resulting in the many darkening pink coloured marks against their skins. It explained the tattered clothes that laid on the floor, the frayed bandages torn away from its belonged, the mess made of the room from all the things that were knocked off the booths against the wall and table; pillows kicked and cups knocked over, alcohol bottles dropped and liquids spilt, yet none gave a damn.

The smell of sweet intoxication worked physically and mentally. It drove him nuts, probably because he was drunk yet sober. Saccharine breaths and saccharine skin, he could only feel himself drown in her aroma, and surprisingly enough, she wasn't wearing any perfume. If he could compare the potent smell, he could compare it to gardenias; warm in atmosphere that tinged with sultry, rousing like a flamboyant fragrance. Though, those were his thoughts. If someone knew her, someone who knew who she was, they could outright say she was like wisterias; refreshing and peppery, mimicking that of freesias, though highly intoxicating, poisonous.

She was rough with him, jerking the curly, thick locks of his walnut pigmented hair that fell framed on his cheeks towards her. She wasn't going to let him go, not so easily. She straddled him on that sofa, her body pushed up against his with her white blouse that fitted perfectly unbuttoned down to her breasts, bra removed and perky nipples sticking through the thin fabric. She also had her pencil skirt made of polyurethane (or PU, a type of leather) risen up and rumpled around her hips with his hands on her bare ass. If he wanted her so bad at the train station, he had her now, so what was the hold back?

There was no advantage he could fight through, slowly losing his way of breathing to the fight of kisses, he was in difficulty. To add, every time she had gone for a breath, she'd press down her hand so that her thumb and index finger held the base of his throat just until she could revert back to intoxicating him with her. He couldn't just mess with a stranger, much less a woman he had met that day. He had to admit what he did was wrong and while he did have his fair share in experience with fancying women, it had been far too long. So, the question at hand comes back, what was the hold back?

"What's wrong, mister? Shy?" She popped the questions with a sweet and higher pitched voice, "Didn't seem that way this morning." She was a tease, catching him off-guard with a sweet tone to question her innocence once she slipped back to her silvery symphony. She knew how to work herself, knowing her limits and capabilities to use them as her advantage.

"I..." he didn't know what to say, but he could tell there was something about her that was different. He could already catch a gist of what kind of person she was, or so he believes. He assumed that she was one of those people - women, who were shy in the public but far behind closed doors was she a whole other person, his fantasies thought for him to suspect.

"Well, I'll have you know that..." her eyes fell low, nails tracing over his throat to his collarbone, "I have been thinking about you all day. The way you kissed me back at the train station? How could anyone forget that~?" she coaxed in hopes to get some sort of reaction out of him, and it did. She saw the twitch in his lips and felt his nails dig a little into her hips.

The man that succumbed to his desires at last gaped his mouth, about to voice how she made him feel, eyes half-lidded and almost desperate- sorry for resisting her.

"You-"

Suddenly, the woman's phone blared with a ringtone that completely shutoff the mood - a basic ring of someone calling her. She exhaled sharply and reached over to her phone that was far thrown down the sofa, her body almost pulling off of his completely. Her eyes scrunched at the ID, she then slid off of the male that finally gave in, a confused gasp escaping him. She only sighed more frustratedly, carelessly picking up the undergarments that were discarded in the process of her seduction. "It's my boss, he usually only calls me this late if he wants me to hand in a report early tomorrow morning, which means, I'll be up all night."

"When will I see you again?" He cut straight after her last words, sitting upright with wide eyes of desperation. There was a good six seconds of silence, she was appalled by his words and so he was as well. He didn't expect or mean for those words to come out, but they did.

The surprised look on her face was fairly calm, she sighed once again and handed him her phone once the ringing had stopped, and she had unlocked the device. He tapped immediately to her notes out of almost utter embarrassment and tapped in his phone number, handing her phone back to her once finished. "I'll call you."

She left soon after, she had already put her undergarments back on whilst he tapped away at the numbers and backspace pad after a few mess ups in his frantic fingers. She sped walk out of the karaoke place and fiddled with her phone to find that missed call.

As soon as she left, the mocha haired man palmed at his growing bulge, eyes squinting at it. If he had given in earlier, he wouldn't have had to be stuck where he was right now. He cursed as he bucked into his hand, needing to get this deed done before he left or else he would have trouble on the way home. His mind filled with the moments they had together; her lips; her breasts; everything about her.

Just who was she? How did she make him feel this way?

Back to trotting down the street, she managed to haul a taxi, her phone to her ear as she got in and spoke to the taxi man about her address. She grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it into place, the phone ringing for the person that vouched for her earlier. Upon hearing a click, she answered.

"Hey, Chūya."