Work Text:
Yosano sits back in her office chair, one knee crossed over the other, her elbows resting on the arms of the chair, and one of her fists up to rest her jaw on her knuckles. She looks down at Ranpo, who is sitting on his knees with his hands between his thighs and his palms pressed against the floor. He’s still fully clothed, but his outerwear has been set aside, hanging over the back of another chair, and his shirt is fully unbuttoned.
“So,” Yosano starts, “tell me what you want.”
Embarrassment heats Ranpo’s face, settling across his cheekbones and prickling beneath his skin from his neck down to his chest. He tries to find his words, the lack of them embarrassing in itself given his easily talkative nature, and feels his breath catch in his throat a few times before he manages any degree of success.
“…I want to taste you,” Ranpo says finally.
“Good boy. You’ve been trained well, haven’t you?”
The simple praise makes Ranpo’s clit throb with need. “You did a good job.”
Yosano uncrosses her legs and raises her hips just enough to bunch her skirt up at her waist and push her tights down to her knees. She pulls one of her gloves off with her teeth and tosses it haphazardly to the side. She pushes her middle and index fingers into herself, slides them up to her clit, then spreads her pussy.
“Go on,” Yosano says. “Be a good boy for me, won’t you?”
The detective gives a shaky exhale and scoots forward a little more. He grips the edge of the office chair tightly, looking to maintain a level of self-control, and leans forward to put his mouth to use.
Yosano sighs when he licks over her pussy, and he savors both the heady flavor and the sound of the doctor’s voice.
Eager to please her further, he circles his tongue around her clit a few times before licking back down to dip inside of her. Her taste is thick as it coats his tongue, becoming the only thing he’s able to focus on. It’s intoxicating, almost, but all of the power Yosano asserts over him is as well.
“Very good,” she murmurs as she cards her fingers through his hair. “You do this so well…”
Ranpo groans in reply, shifting to press his heel against himself so he can grind on it. He’s achingly hard, and while he so badly wants to touch himself, he doesn’t want to do anything he isn’t given permission to. He doesn’t bother pulling back to ask for that permission, though—she’ll grant him the privilege whenever she feels he’s earned it, and the only way he’ll manage doing that by staying committed to eating her out.
“I saw that,” Yosano says, though her voice is somewhat strained. “You can keep going… as long as you don’t let yourself cum from just that.”
He never would have allowed himself to, not without being told to, but he doesn’t stop to refute it. Usually he has to be right, needs the final say in everything, but on a rare occasion, he doesn’t—and when Yosano is having him put his mouth to use for her pleasure, there’s nothing more important than doing what he’s instructed to.
The detective gasps, then groans, then whimpers, all sounds drawn out by Yosano’s increasingly heavy breaths and the cum slicked over his tongue and the constant drag of his clothed clit back and forth over the sole of his shoe. He’s quickly realizing he’s going to have to be careful or he’s going to finish before he’s told he’s allowed to.
(He’s always been so, so eager to please sexual partners, deriving most of his own pleasure from making someone else feel good and being informed that he’s doing a good job. He can’t say he dislikes being the center of attention sometimes—and Yosano certainly knows how to make everything about him every once in a while—but he rarely prefers it and only enjoys it as an occasional thing. Ultimately, it’s keeping it about the other person that ensures the best time for himself.)
“I’m close,” Yosano breathes. “Be good and touch yourself for me?”
Ranpo could have cum from that alone, but he pulls together all the self-control he can manage as he shoves one of his hands down his pants and slides three of his fingers into himself. He sucks at Yosano’s clit, determined to make her cum before he inevitably hits his own limit.
He manages it before long, her thighs trembling and her hips twitching and her breaths coming out brokenly staccato. A final rush of her cum covers his tongue and then he’s over the edge too, whining through his orgasm and then slumping down onto the floor with his forearm keeping him somewhat propped up against the office chair.
“Very cute,” Yosano says. “But you’ll need to pull yourself together before too long. We’re still at work.”
Ranpo sighs, groans his complaint, and sits back. The doctor pulls her panties and tights back and smooths her skirt back down. She leans forward and pulls Ranpo’s hand out of his pants so she can suck the cum off his fingers, and Ranpo lets out a small, surprised squeak in his throat.
“You did so well.” Yosano presses a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Are you good to stand?”
“Should be.”
Yosano stands up, no unsteadiness apparent in her posture, and grabs Ranpo’s hand to help him stand up. Contrary to the doctor, his legs are a little unreliable at first, but while he knows he weighs a little too much for her to keep him up if he lost his balance, her grip helps him reorient himself.
“…I wonder if those security cams get much attention,” Yosano says, tossing a glance up at the corner where the room’s camera is tucked into.
“Does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t, really.”