May's Drabbles - Tumblr Posts

that thing u said abt dry humping w mimo…………………. mmmmgh

I just typed out three whole paragraphs and then looked at them and was like ... I need to write this, don't I ... so

🔞 1.3k words, dry humping in grey sweats, big cock minho

"Ah, fuuuck."

Minho's voice is shot. He's breathing another curse against the side of your face, both his hands on your ass, rutting you down just as he grinds upwards, dragging his cock over your clit at an angle that makes you groan into his neck.

"M-Min," you mumble, smush your palm against the side of his face, dragging him back and into a filthy kiss. It's really nothing much like a kiss, open mouths sliding together, tangles tangling, spit pooling, but he doesn't seem to mind. He groans louder, digs his fingers into your ass, grinds up harder.

You know you could cum like this, have plenty of times before, just like this, making out on the sofa after a long day, humping your pussy against his cock until you both fall apart.

But Minho has a mad glint in his eyes today, one that is just on the right side of horny and unhinged and makes you even wetter. You love when you don't know what's going on in his weird brain. You love being surprised by it.

You hear Minho growl before you're suddenly being dragged upright and then your world flips and you're underneath him.

Minho sits back on his haunches, towers over you like this. His eyes are dark, a mad glint and unbridled, horny need pinning you to the cushions with such intensity that it makes your whole body shudder. His eyelids flutter when you do. He licks his lips, then his eyes dip down, along your body, until they're fixed between your legs.

Slowly, he reaches out, drags his fingertips over your clothed cunt, relishes in the gasp you let out. Then he uses his other hand to fist the material, pull it up, taut, the thin-ish material of your sweats riding in between your folds and you're sure he can see the outline of absolutely everything like this.

But somehow, it still doesn't seem enough, when he grunts and grabs first your own ankle, then the other, and throws them up and over his shoulders, before spreading your thighs for him.

Then he goes back in, pulls your sweats taut over your pussy and groans.

"Fuck, your little pussy looks so good like this, baby," he mumbles, his free hand coming down to stroke you again. It's not enough to get you off, but the barely there, consistent pressure of two of his fingers dragging up and down your slit are just enough to make your pussy throb. You can feel the wetness pool, ready to take his cock and then some, but he doesn't seem to plan on doing that anytime soon.

When he stops, you have to swallow down a pathetic moan. Your whole body is thrumming with need. But then he suddenly digs his thumb right where your hole is and your back arches off the sofa.

"'re you wet, baby?" he murmurs, barely audibly, almost like he's talking to himself. His eyes are glued to his finger, where it's rubbing and rubbing and rubbing against your hole, ignoring where you're writhing and mewling underneath him.

"M-Min, p-please," you wail out, but he doesn't react, only grabs your ankle tighter to hold you in place.

Then he suddenly stops, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and groans.

"Ah, fuck yeah," he groans out, "knew you were."

It dawns on you then. He wanted your slick wetness to seep through your panties, all the way through your thin, grey sweatpants.

"Dirty boy," you manage to gasp out, but he just grins without tearing his eyes away from between your legs, and starts palming his own cock through his sweats.

"Wish you could see yourself like this, baby," he purrs, his breathing getting heavier, "look so fuckin' good."

Before you can say anything else, he shuffles closer, until he's kneeling right between your legs, and he takes a hold of your right leg again. With one, strong movement, he pulls you up until your lower back is no longer resting on the sofa, your pussy lined up right in front of his cock.

He's still palming himself, but then he lets go, surveys the scene. His eyebrows knit together, and he for a second he looks so cute, so disgruntled, that you could coo at him. But that moment passes when he shoves his hand in his pants, takes ahold of his boxers and pulls them down below his balls.

When he pulls his hand back and lets go of his cock you see why.

It's standing out in front of him, proud, and thick and rock fucking solid, tenting his sweats in a way that is frankly fucking obscene.

And then he fists the material of your sweats in one hand, grabs a hold of his cock in the other, just his thumb, pressing against the base of himself, and rubs his cock right over your clit.

Stars explode in your vision, your walls flutter around nothing, your whole body pulled taut because holy fuck why does that feel so good.

Minho is always a little quieter, but even he can't control the wet little groan that rolls from his tongue when he ruts forward, when he can see the outline of the head of his cock every time he thrusts.

Minho uses the grip on your ankle to pull you back up from where you collapsed in on yourself with the onslaught of pressure, and it just makes Minho's cock nestle more perfectly in between the lips of your pussy, something that is apparently very much visible because Minho moans and his hips stutter.

"God, fuck," he pants, presses his cock down harder, ruts into you a little faster, "fuck, I can feel you."

You can't respond, but you know you don't have to. Minho knows. He knows your body inside and out, can probably tell from the erratic twitching of your hips that you're hurtling towards an orgasm so intense it will probably leave you so boneless after that he will have to carry you to bed.

Minho throws his head back with a moan and fucks his hips forward faster, the head of his cock dragging all over you perfectly, rubbing over your whole, then bumping into your clit, and that combined with the friction from all the cotton and jersey drives you over the edge.

You come with a strangled, broken moan, your back arching, vision whiting out, so overwhelmed that your thighs shake, try to close, even though they're still in Minho's iron grip, and Minho ... loses it.

In one single movement, he leans forward, catches himself with a hand on the back of the sofa, presses his cock into your folds with his entire palm and fucks into you so hard and fast it ruts you up the sofa with every thrust, until he throws his head back, his whole body shudders and he comes.

You watch in fascination as he does, watch his cock twitch, then, little white droplets of his cum pushing through the fabric and pearling up before they get smeared against your own, soiled, slick darkened sweats.

When he's done, he sways and collapses into your chest, his sweaty face smushing against your jaw.

You briefly think about making some joke-y comment about how he ruined both of your clothes, but your floaty, completely empty mind simply can't conjure up the energy to pretend you care.

"Holy fuck," Minho slurs, his breath still puffing heavily against your skin.

"That was the filthiest fucking thing we've ever done, somehow, and we're entirely clothed," you muse and Minho snorts, then giggles happily. He shifts in your arms and hisses.

"I think I chafed my dick," he groans, and this time it's you who giggles. He pulls back and stares you down, his mouth open in disbelief.

"Sorry, baby," you coo, lean forward to press a kiss into his lips. You mean for it to just be a peck, but Minho forces his tongue into your mouth immediately, kissing you quick and dirty and so dizzyingly that by the time you pull back, you almost forgot what you were about to say.

His eyes are glued to your lips when you speak, but they snap up and darken with mischief when you do.

"Want me to kiss it better?"

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