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He was simply and brazenly pinned against the wall in broad daylight by that damn big chest. From beneath the misshapen white sect uniform that contrasted with his, black, was visible skin too pale for life on the mountain and two outrageously large bulges (he didn't remember them being like that in his first life!), squeezing tightly against him and swaying slightly back and forth as the tantalizing smell of alcohol touched his nose and a slightly stuttering voice whispered sweetly:
“Sweet boy”, and his eye twitched at the nickname, trying to crawl out from underneath it all, but her hand ran around to his groin, squeezing, and after his muffled hiss, she laughed a mesmerizing laugh. “I don't like young ones like you, not my type...but you'll be an exception”.
Her height, taller than many girls — and Cheong Myeong's current one — allowed him to press his face into that bottomless softness, forgetting how to breathe when a hand too nimble for a drunken Saint Sword climbed into his pants, playing with the head of his cock and feeling him groan and his body arch. Dropping his pants completely and exposing the skin of his legs, she parted his face from her that outrageous chest and, as soon as he drew a breath, covered his lips with hers, unapologetically and uncompromisingly gently running her hand over his cock, watching his bloody helplessness in her hands. Sadistic.
Too sensitive a body, Cheong Myeong thought unhappily.
(Too cute, yet fierce at the same time, thought Saint Sword with a slight drunken laugh.)
Her hand is full of calluses, and also impatient, and hard, and warm, and he's annoyed by everything he'd say to the brat if it weren't trying to eat him with her mouth or smother him with her breasts. He thinks he's not getting enough lube, or water, or oil, or whatever, because the heat from the friction of her hand moving stubbornly and relentlessly up and down his overly hard erection is becoming unbearable, as is the heat creeping up and down his entire body; he ignores both the trembling of his own knees and his hitched breaths (not a moan, no; especially not a whimper). Damn young body, it's making him feel these stupid things that he wouldn't have called ticklish before, hell.
He hadn't noticed it before, but he'd been very outgoing in the past, at least this brat had been for sure.
“You're so honest with nuna, boy”, and again irritation mixed with arousal, culminating in a bite on her breast that, unfortunately for him, didn't even leave a mark on the Saint's body. “And very hot-tempered”.
Her every word and action felt superior to someone who was 'younger' than her, weaker and smaller. Cheong Myeong would have wanted to pin the self-confident child against the wall, clutching at her breasts and licking her mercilessly until his hand would get into her pants and she'd start begging to stop—
But the only one who cum with a sob was — him.