Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Si woo

“Need it? Bullshit, the only thing you need is me, you stubborn prick,” I snapped back, pulling him up the first step, his feet slipping, body pressed against mine, and I could feel how hard he still was, rubbing against my thigh accidentally, making him groan in frustration. “Let go, asshole, I’m not going back up there with you!” he hissed through my fingers, biting at my hand lightly, but I just laughed low, “Oh yeah? Then why’s your dick saying otherwise?”

He shoved at my chest, almost knocking the glass over, milk sloshing, and we stumbled up another step, him clawing at my arm, eyes tearing up again from the mix of anger and that relentless horniness. “Because you drugged me, you fuck! This isn’t me wanting you, it’s your sick game!” His voice cracked, sad and mad all at once, and it hit me a little, but I pushed it down, dragging him higher, “Cry about it later, we’re not doing this down here where she can hear.” Finally got him to the top, him panting, me spilling more milk on the floor, and I kicked the door to my room open, shoving him inside, locking it again, glass still in my hand half-full.

He backed up against the bed, wiping his chin, glaring daggers, “You think you can just manhandle me like that? Give me the milk!” But I set the glass down on the dresser, ignoring him, and yanked my pants down, freeing my cock, hard as ever from all this chasing and fighting, and his eyes dropped right to it, lips parting, tongue darting out to lick them without thinking, and I grinned, stroking myself once.

“See something you like, Ye-jun? Forget the milk, this is what’ll quench that thirst.” He shook his head fast, but couldn’t look away, face flushing deeper, “No, fuck you, I don’t want that.” “Liar,” I shot back, stepping closer, but he dodged, grabbing for the glass again, pouring more from the carton he’d somehow snatched on the way up I pulled him, clever bastard and he filled it quick, hands trembling, spilling everywhere, lifting it to drink like his life depended on it.

I lunged, seizing the glass again, milk splashing over both of us, cold and sticky, and he fought me hard this time, “No, stop! Give it!” arms flailing, nails scratching my wrist, but I held on, laughing through gritted teeth, if only he knew what those scratches did to me, “Oh come on, this is pathetic, fighting over milk like a kid?” He growled, “Pathetic? You’re the one who can’t handle me saying I’d fuck someone else!”

And in the struggle, I pushed him back against the wall, glass in one hand, his wrist in the other, our faces inches apart, breathing heavy.

“Yeah, well, watch this,” I said, dipping my cock right into the glass, the tip submerging in the milk, swirling it around, making it all drippy and mixed with my precum, and I pulled it out slowly, offering it to him. His eyes went huge, staring at my dick glistening with milk, and he blurted out, “God, your dick looks so… fuck, it’s pretty, look at that pink tip,” admiring it out loud like he couldn’t help it, voice husky, and I burst out laughing, “Ha! See? Can’t even pretend anymore.”

He turned redder, snapping “Shut up!” but his gaze stayed locked, and I dipped it back in, deeper this time, thrusting a little into the glass, milk overflowing, dripping down the sides, and pulled out again, holding it close to his face.

“Taste it, Ye-jun, bet it’s better than plain milk.” He hesitated, lips quivering, then muttered “Fuck it,” and leaned in, sucking the tip clean, tongue swirling around, moaning despite himself, and I groaned, “Shit, yeah, just like that.” He pulled back quickly, wiping his mouth, angry at himself, “I hate you for this.” But I wasn’t done, I dipped it again, this time rubbing the head around the rim of the glass first, coating it thick, then plunging in, stirring like I was making some perverted cocktail, and offered it dripping. “Again,” I said, smirking, and he glared but sucked harder this time, taking more in his mouth, bobbing a little, eyes watering from the effort or the shame, I couldn’t tell.

“Good boy,” I teased, pulling out with a pop, and he coughed, “Don’t call me that, you dick.” But his hand reached for my cock, stroking it absentmindedly before he caught himself, yanking away.

I laughed, “See? Yearning for more already.” Dipped once more, but different now, held the glass lower, made him bend down to reach, forcing him on his knees, and he did, sucking eagerly, tongue lapping up the milk-pre mix, humming low in his throat.

“Fuck, Si-woo, why does it taste so good?” he admitted, voice breaking, sad almost, like he was betraying himself. “Because it’s me, dumbass,” I shot back, thrusting into his mouth a bit.

He sucked until it was clean, popping off, breathing ragged, “More… no, wait, stop.” But I ignored the stop, dipped again, this time tilting the glass so milk poured over my cock as I stroked, making it all slick and white, dripping onto the floor, and pushed it toward his lips. “Clean it up,” I ordered, and he did, licking from base to tip, slow and thorough, eyes closed like he was savoring, then sucking the head hard, pulling a moan from me.

We kept going like that, me changing it up each time to keep him hooked, next I set the glass down, poured milk directly over my cock from the carton, letting it cascade down, cold shocks making me hiss, and he watched, mesmerized, before diving in, sucking and licking the streams off, hands on my thighs for balance. “You’re such a mess,” he mumbled around me, but kept going, angry sucks mixed with needy ones.

“Me? Look at you on your knees for my milky dick,” I laughed, chaotic, grabbing his hair to guide him. Then another way, I dipped deep, held it in the glass, and made him drink around it, his lips brushing my cock as he sipped, accidentally sucking me in the process, milk spilling down his chin, and he groaned “This is so fucked up,” but didn’t stop, tongue teasing the slit. “Fucked up and hot,” I countered, thrusting shallow into the glass and his mouth.

Switched it again, poured milk into my hand, rubbed it all over my cock like lube, making it shiny and slick, and he grabbed it himself this time, sucking greedily, hand pumping the base, eyes looking up at me with that mix of hate and want that drove me crazy. “Slow down, or I’ll cum too soon,” I warned, but he didn’t, sucking harder, defiant. “Good, maybe then you’ll leave me alone,” he snapped between licks, but kept going, sad tears streaking his face now.

“Ye-jun, hey… ” I started, but he interrupted, “Don’t, just… let me.” So I dipped once more, but this time as I pulled out to offer, he sucked so damn hard, hollowing his cheeks, tongue working overtime, and I felt it building too fast, “Wait, shit…. ” but it was too late, I accidentally came right into the glass while trying to dip again, ropes mixing with the milk, turning it creamy white, and I pulled back, gasping.

He stared at the glass, then at me, eyes wide, and before I could say anything, he seized it, tilting it back and drinking it down in big gulps, swallowing my cum-milk mix like he was starving, some dripping from the corners of his mouth, and I couldn’t help but laugh hard, bending over, “Holy shit, Ye-jun, you just chugged my load like it’s breakfast!” But even as I laughed, I got so turned on watching him, the way he licked his lips after, eyes hazy, it made me want to fuck him senseless right there, bend him over and eat him out until he cried for real, that deep need hitting me hard.

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