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"Would you ever sit on my face?" Harua finds her painting her nails on her bed, arguably a terrible location to paint your nails on.
She's done it too, obviously, but those days feel far away with her regular nail maintenance being done professionally.
Jo knocks the bottle of sage green polish clean off her nightstand with the way she sits up straight, "What?"
"Like, as in, I eat you out but you're sitting on my face." Harua picks up the bottle before it starts to spill, taking Jo's hand in hers to make a face at her flooded cuticles.
"No, I got that the first time. Why do I have to do the sitting?" She questions, an honest mutter, but her answer doesn't come.
Harua looks at her, pointed, and Jo feels the tips of her ears burn. Her hair is down, which won't do much to hide it, but still. It's not that she doesn't like being on the receiving end, it's just so much easier to give. She's working on it, she swears.
"I don't know… Maybe… Sounds messy." Jo lets Harua take a cotton swab from her poor setup and clean up the edges of her nails, careful as ever.
An idea nips at Harua's tongue, stubborn until it leaves her lips.
"I mean, it's fine if you're scared to ruin your nails, I doubt you'll be able to keep your hands afloat anyways."
Harua knows Jo physically can't resist being challenged like this. She's just anxiously awaiting the start of promotions and she needs something to keep her mouth busy. And Jo's pussy is more than enough.
"I won't ruin them." Jo looks up at her with a calm sort of coyness, the kind that makes Harua want to crack her right open and watch her falter. The kind that makes everyone want to poke and prod and find out what makes her tick, giggle, cry, moan—
"Then you'll let me, right Jojo?" She leans down, Jo's hand still in hers, and she carefully kisses her knuckles with far too much persuasive power.
Jo studies Harua's appearance, from the way her hair is already tied up to the knowing grin she's sporting. Her nails are still wet and they can probably survive the ordeal if Jo just-- Locks in.
Harua knows she's won when Jo motions to the door with her chin, concerned about privacy for what they're about to do.
"You know I'm not going to be quiet, especially without my hands to bite."
Harua grins, shutting the door in record speed before disposing of Jo's little manicure kit with ease. She stands in front of Jo, waiting for a sign to lie down and ease Jo onto her face-- But Jo just stands in front of her with a rising flush and parted lips. She's not budging, body swaying ever so slightly—
Harua pushes her onto the mattress without hesitation, a harsh shove that makes Jo let out a whimper from the back of her throat.
Harua promptly takes matters into her own hands, because it's becoming very clear to her that Jo doesn't plan on doing so. There's the nails, yes, but when Jo decides not to give, she doesn't give anything. Her brain just decides to turn off when she's given permission to.
Jo already feels warmth from their conversation running down and hardening into a ball of want in her stomach, growing more pressing with each pulse. The urge is strongest below her belly button, where Harua likes to press her hand into to make her cry when she's using her like a stress toy.
Harua watches her think herself into a wet mess, no doubt aided by her memory and her fortunate habit of daydreaming.
Harua tugs the waistband of her shorts down to hopefully jostle her out of her thoughts, but Jo doesn't seem to care. Her hips are already moving forward, slow grinding motions that make Harua's breath hitch— Her mouth waters.
"Are you that horny?" She smiles into Jo's inner thigh before biting it, drawing a breathy sigh from Jo.
"I think I just missed your mouth." It's true, and she hopes the tremors in her voice convey that.
Harua's breathing grows shallow, because she knows Jo means it. "Uh-huh?"
"And… And we've been so, oh, so busy," Jo continues like she needs to explain herself, like she needs to justify her need to feel good.
She tries to kill the whines stuck in her throat every time Harua pretends she's going to stop teasing and ghosts over her labia. She really does try.
"Uh-huh." Harua hums again, mocking, wetting the tip of her finger and reaching out to roll it over Jo's clit once.
Jo's feels her legs grow weak in instants, and she has to pull her knees up to ground herself. Her cunt is closer to Harua's face like this, she's closer to actually sitting on her face like this— She's spread open and ready for Harua to taste.
Harua realizes she's drooling, saliva rolling to her chin and down her throat.
She usually isn't a messy eater, but all of her caution flies out the window when it cones to Jo. It's like her body loses control in hopes of getting Jo riled up enough to do the same.
She checks her watch one more time and lies down, hands caressing the flesh of Jo's ass just to feel her shivering. Her fingers squeeze and pull her in, inviting. "Come up, pretty girl."
She dips into praise because she knows Jo loves it, turning persuasive and tender before she eats Jo's pussy well enough to undo the knots of stress in her shoulders.
Jo sits up, too wet and impatient to bother with reluctance, thighs caging Harua's head, her piercings feel cold on her inner things but even that makes her core melt—
When she sinks down, Harua's nose bumps into her clit first. It makes her jump and it makes Harua laugh into the soft curls on her pussy, a charming sound that makes Jo's breath falter.
It's her nose, her cupid's bow, fuck, Jo feels her wet smile against her own lips, and then her tongue cuts through the gentleness to press against her labia and wreck her.
Jo gasps out a moan that makes her shake, tremors wracking her from her ribcage to the arch of her feet.
Harua secures her on her tongue now that she's had a taste, strong arms wrapped around Jo's thighs and keeping her anchored there.
Her fingers dig into the muscles that will have Jo wincing in the practice room, like a premature apology for the soreness she'll leave her with.
Jo tries to focus on the pressure points at her thighs but Harua notices and licks slow, obscenely wet strips up her cunt, head bobbing in tandem to bring more attention to the feeling. Eyes screaming for Jo to stop tip-toeing around her own pleasure, sharp fondness manifesting into a glare.
She hums against the slick mess her tongue is creating and Jo curls forward with a pretty gasp, tapering off into a moan as Harua keeps humming.
"Fuck, fuck, wait, don't wanna come too fast," She tries, struggling to lift her thighs thanks to Harua's unforgiving grip. Her stomach rolls with want when Harua pulls back, just a bit, just to fuck with her.
"It's okay, I'll just keep going." She's back in it as soon as Jo registers just what she's gotten herself into, brain turning into mush and leaving a pleasant fog to settle in its place.
"Haruaaaaa…" Jo whines, aimlessly and too loud for their surroundings. She's still folding forward, breath coming out in jerky little inhales, letting out more moans than exhales— She's red, her mouth can't stop uttering out pleas, her bangs are sticking to her with sweat, and to Harua, she's beautiful. She'd put this exact moment down in interviews, if she could.
Harua responds by sucking on her clit in a quick rhythm, making sure to roll the tip of her tongue right at the hood before slipping a thumb inside Jo.
Jo crumbles completely and Harua is left with a face full of her tummy caving and her chest stuttering, melodic cries bouncing off the walls and away from them.
Jo feels her legs going numb. Harua is on a mission to make her come at least twice, and she's relentlessly lapping up her slick the longer she's sat on her face.
Someone's voice makes it back to Jo's ears and she knows it's hers, from the rich fullness of it to the drawn-out notes of pleasure that make Harua grind up into nothing.
"Plea-se, please, please, Harua, Harua, Harua," Jo shakes her head and tries to communicate her panic, tries to let her know that the bliss unraveling in her cunt is about to soak them both.
Harua softens the thrusts of her fingers and opts for pointed grinding instead, mean circles to speed up Jo's second orgasm. Her jaw doesn't hurt just yet, but Jo's probably does.
Jo comes again but it's silent, all sharp and jerky and overwhelmed, the poor thing. She grabs at her wall and tries to sink her nails into it but it's too late— She squirts all over Harua's face and whimpers through it, immediately freeing herself to roll into a ball and breathe through the aftermath. She's giggling after a good bout of deep breaths, head rising to meet Harua's eyes.
Harua's own face cracks into a smile, lips all sticky before she gets up to wipe them both down. She makes a right outside the door and grabs a few rags from the hallway coset, and she briefly wonders if they were heard. Oh well. She's too proud of the damage Jo has left on her to worry about secrecy.
Plus, Jo ruined her nails– Harua got exactly what she wanted.