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Yūji can look so adorable, like the most innocent schoolboy with his hoodies or knit sweater in winter. No one—a normal person—would ever believe that he already knows how to finger and jerk himself like a little slut. Jokes on them, honestly. He has such a youthful curiosity, hormones and whatever.
He knows how appetizing his appearance can look. He knows how to give first glances over his shoulder that seem naive, but if his amber eyes catch certain special attentions, continuing in ways of innocent games, men can’t help but start to get flustered, even turned on, even if it never crossed their minds before the idea of what a little ilegal thing like him—a boy with still candy taste on his lips and tongue—can bloom that kind of monster from the deepest part of them.
Yūji’s always careful, though. It’s what the first one of them all taught him. And it’s a good thing he isn’t a girl or otherwise Gramps would have to deal with something worse than some rumors about his grandson sneaking into pachinkos. Yūji is fine for now, he's still sure that his grumpy old man hasn’t heard about bad things yet. Good!
And it’s just fun. It’s what he was told when he was smaller, since his first real approach to adult matters on the lap of someone else. ‘It feels funny, isn’t it, kiddo? Feeling fun here in your cute belly, don’t cha think?’
It’s still fun. He likes it— loves it. His initial wonder and eventual curiosity have developed into intoxicating plays: being aware that he’s the cause of obscene physical changes that others experienced. It’s fun to catch the look of someone tracing their eyes down his body, sometimes visually drinking the aspect of the softer-looking skin of his arms and legs, seemingly soft like an angel wearing little shorts during summer. And it’s fun for Yūji to shift his body in playful stances—the ass a little up, stretching arms over his pink head or over the counter of a little store or over the desk with an easy teacher all alone in the classroom. Move in a certain way until they need to adjust their groin.
Then, if they are lucky, to feel hungry of cock, wanting one to be inside him.
Men were like a playground for Yūji.
Fucking himself hard on Gojō-sensei’s cock between the shelves in the school library. Bordering flirting with Nanamin until the man needs to turn around. Allowing classmates to use his little greedy mouth. Moaning incoherent words as Ojisan tongue-fucks him.
Yūji has grown to be a wanton whore because of the neighbor man who lived in front of his house years ago.
All because of him.
‘Hey, kiddo, show me your pink tongue, will ya?’
Yūji can remember times like that from the past, with his much smaller body sitting on the lap of Fushiguro-san, little back against a broad, firm chest as Yūji has finished eating a strawberry-flavored lollipop, pink tongue from it. He can remember the first time he felt a hard and huge bulge poking his buttocks. He can remember squirming over it, at first uncomfortable, ignorant of its significance.
‘Silly boy. You know what you’re doing?’
Yūji’s big eyes looked back at the man, shifting a bit, and the small motion was enough to feel the bulge getting bigger. Huge, it felt funny.
Yuji didn’t answer the question, he had just turned around, straddling the neighbor. Not the first time they had been like this.
‘Um… Fushiguro-san, are you–?’
Fushiguro-san had cut his words, telling him the first kind of question that doomed him. ‘Hey, kiddo, show me your pink tongue, will ya?’
Little Yūji had titled his head, a little confused, but he had obeyed the adult man that day.
‘Cute,’ the adult had said as soon as Yūji opened his mouth, little tongue out. One finger pressed on it. ‘Wanna get another candy?’ Fushiguro-san had asked him softly, eyes lidded while watching the boy.
Yūji had tried to nod before the finger pulled away. 'Would... um, would it be free for me, Fushiguro-san?’
‘Y’know it is. Always.’
Back then, still sitting in the man’s lap, Yūji could still feel the thing under him growing and growing , now touching directly between his little ass. So big and warm and he found himself grinding against it, looking at Fushiguro-san, golden eyes never stopping being a little too confused.
‘But are... you feeling ok, Fushiguro-san? Feels like something is under… me.’
Yūji had wiggled his ass, as if trying to make his point very clear. His neighbor hissed, placing both his big hands at each side of Yūji. Strangely, instead of lifting him and moving the little boy down from his lap, Fushiguro-san pressed him down, forcing Yūji to feel more of the hard thing inside the adult’s pants.
It was a lot bigger, sliding between his buttocks. There was an upward thrust made by Fushiguro-san’s hips, making Yūji bounce in the air a bit, just to get back down to rub his body against the big bulge.
‘You don’t hate it, do you, Yū-chan?’
Although Yūji didn’t know what answer should be correct, he nodded again, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder for unnecessary support—Fushiguro’s hold on him was so strong.
‘Good, Yū-chan, cause you look like you wanna get raped, huh?’
Yūji’s first kiss was like this, soft, just a mouth resting over his, but with fingers clawing at his waist and a breath hitting his nose, not understanding the question that had been asked.
The hands moved down, squeezing his too immature ass to help him grind while the man’s hip bucked up. Their motions repeated until Fushiguro-san had made some funny faces then, and one minute later he hid his face on the crook of Yūji’s neck, panting more harshly. Yūji didn’t ask him if he was feeling hurt somehow; he didn’t even know how to ask it, not when Fushiguro-san had murmured, ‘So good, fuck–so good. Just like this. I knew you would be a perfect little whore. I knew you had been teasing me. Tempting me’
When the adult went suddenly all still, hugging Yūji’s frame hard, Fushiguro-san told him that he couldn’t stay longer, not even if all Yūji had been waiting for was for Megumi to be dropped by his mom so they could start to play.
‘Go away, kiddo, or I might do something really bad.’
Days after Yūji came back to Fushiguro’s house though, and it was a hand that touched over his still clothed small crotch, touching and touching and touching and gripping until Yūji sobbed, little boy being taught about a new aching need while the big bulge from the man, straight as an arrow and out from his pants and boxers, was rubbing behind him on the back.
‘Feels good?’ Fushiguro-san had sounded so menacing, as if he were the wolf villain talking to the small rabbit in the kids show that Yūji still watched back then. Even so, Yūji could remember that the adult had told him to always speak up.
‘Nghn… I– I think I like it!’
‘It would feel better if we got your pants down. Wanna try, Yū-chan?’
‘My… pants?’
‘Yeah. Wanna see your cute tiny cumhole too.’
And the first time a man touched Yūji’s hole was that day, two fingers getting inside with only spit and sweat.
It was the first day that Yūji felt something too close to an orgasm—not quite adult quality yet, though.
The man didn’t pop Yūji’s cherry. Too much trouble if someday the little boy forgot to keep their games a secret.
The undeserved prize had been taken by Fushiguro-san’s son, the black-haired boy sounding almost as menacing as his estranged father—or, actually, as his deadbeat father: the adult Fushiguro hadn’t been seen in years, clearly evading court-ordered child support obligations.
Anyway, Yūji lost his virginity in his second year of middle school, and that first time was too rough despite Megumi loving him so much.
His words were also rude. Too rude.
‘Fuck, Yūji, it’s not your first time, or is it? Are you a slut? You really did it with that fucker? Didn’t you know he was just taking advantage of you or were you that dumb, such an idiot?’
Yūji had tried to deny all that, shaking his head, but he had started to sob and there was too much drool dripping from his mouth as Megumi kept fucking him from behind, both at the back of the school gym.
Megumi’s inexperienced thrusts increased into frantic motions, asking Yūji if Tōji had fucked him like that too despite the fact that it was the first time for Yūji being on his hands and knees with a cock inside him.
‘Gumi! Wait–’
‘How many times did you get crempied by him, mh?’
Would the times when Yūji tasted the man’s thick cum count? When the man had instructed him such things as, 'Suck it like a lollipop’.
And it was a surprise how Megumi had found out about that—about those kinds of games that Fushiguro-san and him shared. It had always been a secret, so if Megumi finally knew it somehow, Yūji couldn’t blame his best friend for treating him like the whore that Fushiguro-san had told him he was so many times before.
But, afraid of losing Megumi’s friendship, Yūji said between moans, ‘J-just kisses! Nnngh… It was just kisses!’
‘You swear it?’
Yūji felt so bad for lying to his best friend, but he softly said yes , promising Megumi he would never do anything bad, promising that he would never listen to an older man’s words ever again.
‘Hmp, I don’t believe you. Look how your hips are moving. You’re a slut.’
And that was the truth, Yūji realized. His hips were rocking back, even if it hurt or if it was a lot more difficult than in a porn, all because of the lack of adequate lubrication . But it was as if Megumi’s cock was scratching some part inside him that Yūji was never able to reach before. Not with Fushiguro-san’s fingers, not with the men that sometimes breathed against his nape while, intentionally, their hips grinded into Yūji. Not even in his wet dreams with the blurred image of his uncle Sukuna and his huge cock sliding back and forward the inside of his hole.
Megumi had been his first time; it had been real.
‘Ah! Gumi! It feels– Aah! Good! So good.’
Megumi’s hips stuttered but his grip got harder, and Yūji looked back, watching the other’s face expression—bewildered, taken aback. Yūji liked it, his hole tightening around the other boy’s cock.
In that moment he felt a special power within him.
‘Harder, Gumi… please.’
‘Nh, fuck! You’re a slut,’ Megumi said that day in the gym, just one second before his cock thrusted balls-deep inside of Yūji, emptying his load and condemning Yūji to wanting more of that sensation.
(With whoever would be willing to make it real too, his promise to Megumi turning into hashes.)
It’s no wonder Yūji is now here, first year of high school, closing the door behind him, locking it.
Behind sunglasses, the man looks at him, head leaning against a big palm, still sitting behind his deck while waiting for his student.
“I’m sorry, Sensei. I didn’t want to be late for your class early today.”
Last night Yūji had stayed in Ojisan’s apartment, and... well, after Yūji's wet dreams with the big man came true, those nights had shifted into something too special, Sukuna doing his best to drain anything Yūji has. And the next mornings? Yūji had to get to the point of begging his Ojisan to compromise with him or else the pink-haired schoolboy would never leave that house. Their deal now is Yūji waking up his Ojisan while eating up and down the entire length of his cock in return for Sukuna to leave him use the shower alone and let him put on his uniform. Some days, though, Sukuna doesn’t keep his promises and he reduces his nephew to a mess before he slumps his heavy shape forward onto the boy’s body. It takes Yūji twice the time to get ready for school, and today has been one of those days.
“Mm, Yūji-kun. Haven’t you been a very bad boy today? I think you need to be punished~"
A small bottle of lube is pulled from somewhere on the teacher’s desk—no condoms, they both like it raw—and there’s a charismatic grin addressed to Yūji, but when the glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, the prettiest blue-shaded eyes stare at Yūji, hungry like a predator settled on its prey.
Yūji likes to fuck himself on Gojō-sensei’s lap because he reminds him of Fushiguro-san somehow. Not because they’re particularly physically alike—that lays on Megumi each passing day—but because the man says things like Fushiguro-san had said those years before or things that the man might say if they meet again.
‘Want a candy, Yūji-kun?’
‘I knew it; you were tempting me all day. You’re such a perfect little whore.’
‘Feel my cock in your belly, sweetheart? Does your pretty belly feel good?’
‘Want me to find you in a train car and grope you?’
It’s always all the fun with Gojō-sensei.
Now, with his pants and underwear dropped on the floor, pretty lips shapping the man’s name before his heat takes Gojō-sensei in, the teacher kisses him softly just to say, “You look like you want to be raped, sweatheart.”
The thick shaft spreads Yūji’s hole, stretching it wide and the student almost falls apart like that, but his teacher tightens his grip, manhandling him until they move from the chair and Yūji is pushed on the table, the man’s cock still inside the young hole. The boy’s inhales are sharper, his breath quivering and his whole self feeling so tiny against the other’s larger shape. He even feels the cock inside him somehow bigger in this position.
“Nnngh… So huge, Sensei! I– I love your cock!”
“Ah, sweetheart… What a dirty little mouth you have. Looking so innocent but you like to come with your teacher’s cock inside, huh? How lovely.”
But Gojō-sensei doesn’t forget this is 'punishment', so he forces total control over Yūji, making the boy start to moan so loudly, a hand quickly covering his mouth while fucking him rough, keeping deep, hard thrusts. Yūji can’t regret anything that has brought him to this moment.
It’s ridiculous how talented Gojō-sensei is to drive him insane.
“Sensei! P-please…”
Gojō-sensei’s breathing is turning harsher, his hard thrusts pushing the boy further and further towards an intense orgasm, and Yūji is glad of his own energy and strength to react properly to this after being also fucked by his Ojisan that morning, and in this moment, with the reminder of Sukuna and the sudden idea of perhaps still having a few remains of his Ojisan’s cum inside him, right there on the same sweet spot that his teacher is battering, Yūji whole body jerks with hard spasms, any scream spilling from his mouth being muffled by the adult’s hand.
“Oh, Yūji-kun… already?” But despite the small mocking, Gojō-sensei does actually know that they can’t risk themselves to fuck like rabbits inside the school. He fucks Yūji roughly, his strong hands digging into the boy’s skin to hold him still while the big cock goes deep and deep steadily, without mercy.
“Shall I cum inside you after your deplorable conduct this morning, Yūji-kun?”
Yūji’s mind takes a few seconds before he processes the question. He’s still too sensitive, his legs spasming around his teacher. The hand covering Yūji’s mouth releases it, and the boy rushes to beg, “Please, Gojō-sensei! I want your cum, please, please, please . Fill me with your cum.” Just like a cheap man-eater, a pretty schoolboy that has grown to be a wanton slut, desiring this type of twisted union.
“Fuck, you're too cute.”
Then Yūji is filled. The teacher shoots spurts of hot cum into the boy, thrusting slowly until he’s finally spent.
As always, their laughs fill the classroom when they’re finished, feeling content in the afterglow of their climax for a few minutes.
Yūji goes home with his hole filled, all gaping open and with the cum from an older man dripping down his thighs.
It’s fine while his Gramps still think that he was just wasting time in some pachinko.