Its pure perfection in its wrongness. You can feel the inherent naughtiness of the act like a delicacy to savour in your mouth, a game to play, something so exciting that you’re almost scared. You shouldn’t be here, and by all accounts, neither should he. This is bad, wrong even, but god, you don’t want to stop.
He’s got you half naked on his lap in the back seat. Stripped to your band shirt, underwear lost to the car’s depths long ago. He’s of course still fully dressed, with only his thick fur shrugged off his shoulders, candy pink hair pushed off his face, a smile so sexy you want to choke on it, and of course, his leather trousers.
You moan out loud from the friction as he drags you across his thigh harshly, his hands painful on your hips as he pulls at you. Your body collects into his lap and you straighten your back to kiss him, feeling his hands cup your ass cheeks and squeeze downtight as you do so.
You’re like nothing in his arms, and the knowledge that he could just lift you up bodily intensifies your feeling of subservience to him. But more than that, its knowing that you want to be his plaything thats really turning you on; knowing that, more than anything, you just want him to play with you.
“Ooh, baby’s all wet” he says, pushing your body away so he can watch himself stroking you, sitting you back on his lap, spreading your legs to properly investigate you. “You’re so hot for this, aren’t you?”
Your face is warm but you’re too turned on to care about being shy anymore. Instead, you cling to his arms, letting him fuss you, your hungry moans turning into pretty whimpers as he inserts a finger inside you, slowly stroking your pussy, teasing you with only inches.
“Baby wants more?” he coos at you, removing his fingers from your pussy to softly trace the outline of your lips, before laughing as you quickly suck them into your mouth. You instinctively moan at the taste of yourself on him, letting your mind drift momentarily to how this must look to someone else - you, half naked on Chanyeol’s lap in the back seat of his car, parked god knows where, his fingers dripping with you, feeding that sweet taste into your whining, greedy mouth…
“…I think I can give you more,” he says, removing his fingers and kissing you messily. He lifts off your shirt and undoes his belt, a dangerous smile cracking up one side of his face as he pulls out his cock for you, “Think you can take it?”
