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As per Freudian psychology, the ego is typically interpreted as the intermediary force between the id (instinct) and the super-ego (strict moral conscience)—by this framework, the ego could be more of just a “compromise” than anything. When it’s Freud though, it’s usually framed under this context of anguished sexual repression.
In a handful of cases though, it doesn’t really get that serious when you just want your boyfriend to pound you silly into the bed. That’s exactly what he does when he’s not in another country. But alas, he’s been away for a bit over a month playing a tournament abroad, which is more of a curse than a blessing when you’re stuck in the midterm frenzy. A little bit stressed and a little bit horny, especially when you have a cute boyfriend—who gets even hotter when he sharp-shoots a goal with the craziest grin on his face—is the best formula for making you needy. He’s out there doing what he wants for himself, and here you are doing the exact same thing for yourself as well. It’s that kind of independent individuality, where the both of you are just so on each other’s levels, that pleases the both of you. Part of this though, is still missing him and his company. In your mind, you still think: Isagi, Isagi, Isagi!—so as soon as he gets back here—well, you get honest with the very Isagi in question.
“I want you,” you tell him, kiss after kiss along the angle of his jaw and down the line of his neck, “Want you now…”
And he gasps, “Ah—” on beat with the pound of his own heart “—How do you want me?”
“On the bed,” You pull him towards you as you walk backward, lips always returning to any part of his skin you can reach: neck; jaw; cheek; and finally at his lips, to which he sinks happily into, sighing into your breath as he settles down the mattress. You kneel between his legs. “Can I suck you off?”
“Hah,” He nods feverishly, “Of course…”
You pull your own shirt off, and he sighs at the sight of your bare body, biting at the back of his hand as his hips buck up towards you. He’s begging for your attention. You wish he’d worn something more convenient to tug down, like athleisure sweatpants or something. But Isagi had decided on some slacks. You work them off him then, already going dizzy at the sight of his cock. “You’re so hard already…” You say, looking up at him.
“M-mhmm,” He stutters out, thighs twitching the moment you lap at his cock, making sure it’s wet enough to move comfortably into your throat later. With a wet and hungry tongue, you press and lick at every spot you know makes his head spin. Breathing heavily, Isagi covers his mouth with the back of his hand—“Please angel, could you put it in your mouth for me?”
This makes you smile. You mimic his response to you earlier, “Of course,” before splaying your tongue out to pillow his cock, then letting it through the heat of your mouth—he shudders, exhaling a long breath at the feeling.
“Ah, you really know exactly how to rile me up,” He whispers, putting a hand at the back of your head, “You know just how to make me feel good…”
Slowly, he starts bucking his hips into your mouth, and you hum around his cock out of curiosity. You wonder, what’s going on in his head that’s making him smile so devilishly? You take his cock out of your mouth, continuing to stroke him as you ask, “What are you thinking about?”
He lets out a small laugh, petting your hair, “Haha, I’m just thinking about fucking your face, angel.” You nod feverishly at his suggestion, and without saying another word you open your mouth wide for him. “Ah, that’s a pretty view.” He rubs the tip of his cock on your tongue, and the sensation forces a shiver to run down your spine. It shocks you how good that feels, as if your tongue has just become some new erogenous zone. You wouldn’t be surprised if it were, what with how Isagi has been training you to take his cock almost daily when he can. Something about pavlovian effects, something about the smile on his face when he knows he’s one-upping you in his own game of wanting–wanting to prove to you the consistent frequency and the raw intensity of how much he needs you.
“That feel good angel?” He slaps the tip of his wet cock on your even wetter tongue, and the spit drips down unto your chest. You nod, and the motion makes you feel dizzier than you already are. Isagi sighs, “Feels so good for me too,” the feeling of your warm saliva building up at the tip of his cock making his own spit build up at the back of his throat. But it’s not just the sensation, it’s the view–your face is so frustratingly pretty he just wants to fuck it. He doesn’t even realize that he starts doing sliding his cock into your mouth, as if he’s shifting between the reality and his own fantasy of you. You can’t be real, not when you’re this good to him. “How are you so fucking perfect?”
He’s been needing you for so long, been stroking his cock to vivid imaginations of every single part of you, he can’t even keep up with how good the real thing feels. He feels like he’s about to bust just slowly bucking his hips in and out of your mouth, he barely notices how rough he’s going, barely notices that he’s stuttering out “Pretty–pretty girl, pretty girl, such a pretty girl,” for every thrust out of your mouth, and “–Fucking–” back in, “–Pretty girl–” back out, and back in, all the way past your throat, all the way until you’re crying at how delicious Isagi’s cock is when it’s stuffed inside your mouth.
“Ah, ah, ah–” He slips his cock out of your mouth because can’t handle it anymore, he doesn’t want to cum just yet, he needs to cum to the taste of your cunt and the view of your body shivering. “Angel, angel, get on your back, pretty angel.”
You’re barely thinking, but follow his instructions, laying your back on the mattress. The spit drips past your chin, and you feel empty as soon as his cock is not inside you anymore, “Wish-wish you stayed inside my mouth…”
He kisses down your stomach feverishly, there’s no pattern, there’s no method to it beyond the wills of his own body. “Do you really think,” His dark hair brushes over his eyes as he looks up at you, “You’re the only one wanting right now?“ The dark look in his eyes turns into pure distilled desire when his face reaches in between your legs–his jaws go slack and his irises dilate. You gasp when he suddenly bites deep into the flesh of your thigh. “Fuck, I needed your thighs…” He licks the bite to ease the sharpness away, and leaves kisses everywhere except for the place where you need his mouth the most. “Delicious thighs…”
You buck your hips forward, getting needier by the second, “Isagi please…”
“I know,” He drones out, and he’s so heady on his own greediness now too, “I’ll show you just how much I’ve been needing you.”
He slips a finger into your cunt, “Ah fuck,” he breathes deeply at how wet you are, his brows furrowing as he fucks his hips into the mattress, “Fuck you’re wet—”
“Isagi–” you sigh out as he gently kisses your wet clit, curling his finger inside you until your hips cant upwards. Your face turns toward and into the pillow. He laps at your wetness, pressing and shifting his tongue at light lines then into heavy shapes, keenly aware at every sound your voice makes. He is at such a heady state, that he keeps thinking over and over again, about what will get you at your weakest underneath him? What is it that he can do to completely devour you? Devour you, knowing how much you want him too, knowing how much you’re willing to give to him too? It drives him so insane, and he revels in it, as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs.
The noises around the room are obscene: the slick of your wet cunt against his mouth, the hitch of your voice when he easily slides in two more fingers into your cunt as he gently sucks your clit. “Mmf, fuck–” he groans out against your wetness, and his own voice is showing his hunger. His cock throbs at every buck of his hips into the sheets. It’s all too much, too much that the pressure builds up at the pit of your stomach, and you gasp out his name, as if that could bring you closer to cumming, as if it could bring him closer to you than you already are–
“Isagi–” you gasp out, threading the fingers of one of your hands into his hair. The sensation of your fingers against his head has him groaning against the taste of your cunt. He keeps his actions consistent, knowing that if he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, he’ll get the taste of your cum all over his tongue. “Isagi, please–”
Curling all three of his fingers, he presses against the most sensational part inside of you, as he draws mindful circles around the exact surface of your clit that has a moan spilling out of your throat– “Oh fuck–” and every wave of your orgasm washes over you like hot water on a cold day, the tremors shiver over your body all the way down to your toes, and he keeps his mouth on your cunt until he’s lapped up every last drop of your cum and swallowed it.
You can barely keep up with the speed of your own breathing. But Isagi rises from between your legs, digging his fingers deeper into your thighs as he spreads them wide open for himself. He leans over you, smiling a ravenous smile as he licks his own spit and your slick off his lips, “Not done yet.”
These words shock a whimper out of you, “I’m so sensitive–”
“Me too, angel, me too,” He says, as he strokes his cock over your stomach, “But we can’t stop here, right?” then readies a condom over his length.
He splays his cock over your stomach, as if gauging how far it usually goes inside you. “Ahhh” He groans out, “Look angel, look at how hard you make me…”
“Please, Isagi–”
“Shh…sh, I know angel, let me get it inside you,” The sound is so slick as he slips his cock inside, and the warmth and the wetness that engulfs the length of his cock makes him twitch and gasp, “Ah fuck…”
Slowly, he starts rocking his hips into your cunt, “Aaah, this feels amazing…” Isagi sighs out, leaning over you and tenderly holding your face as he fucks into you deep and slow, “You’re my good little angel, right?”
“Yes–yes” You nod, and unable to say any word that doesn’t resemble his name or simply any testament to how his cock is hitting deep and hot and thick inside your cunt “Your cock’s perfect.”
“Yeah?” He smiles confidently, and tilts his head with a glint in his eye–before pulling his cock all the way out, and pounding it deep back into you, his thumb going over your clit as he keeps treating your pussy to deep stroke after deep stroke, “Gotta fuck you like the best–for an angel like you.”
“Isagi–” It’s unbelievable how good it feels, that you find his lips and kiss him as he fucks into you, the both of your voices and spit mixing into the sounds of absolute decadence. “You’re in so deep–”
“Angel,” He gasps out, his cock throbbing inside of you as he fucks faster, he chokes on his own voice because the tightness of your cunt is gripping around him like it was made to take his cock. He feels himself on the edge already, and he wants to cum so badly, but he wills himself to hold off on it, “Make sure you don’t cum yet.”
“We can do that right? Make sure we keep fucking right?” He urges you, as he rubs at your clit. And you shake your head, tears spilling from your eyes, because you’re not certain you can hold your own orgasms back anymore, not when he’s touching you and fucking you like this. “I’ve missed you so much I wanna fuck you for so long….”
“Can’t–need to cum around your cock–” You tell him, and you confess how much you’ve been needing him since he’d been gone for so long, “Fuck me anytime you want–fuck me all the time if you want–just need you–”
“Fuck, angel…” As soon as he hears those words fall out of your mouth, he fucks into you faster to chase his own release. You’re right. He doesn’t need to worry, not when he can fuck you anytime he wants, for as long as he wants–but right now he hasn’t felt you like this in so long that he just needs to give in. “Fuck, fuck–”
You cum to the feeling of the pressure of his thumb and the weight of his cock pushing into your cunt. As the waves of pleasure wash over you, you bite into his shoulder.
“Ah!” Shocked at the incredible feeling, he pounds one last deep thrust into you, and he cums with a gasp into the crook of your neck as he holds you closer and closer to his own body. He milks out his orgasm, bucking his hips into you for a few more moments before pulling you back in for the sweetest of kisses.
“I missed you so much…” You tell him, and it’s a way of saying that you’re happy he’s here with you now, that the waiting was all worth it if it meant he got to return to you.
“I missed you too.” He says, like an answer to a question you didn’t ask. Because his own sentiments are the same except, he’s missed you so much more than you could ever know. More than he could ever fully express to you. After all, it’s always been a lot more difficult to express what goes far beyond the ego.