Yandere Rampage! (4)
“Haaaahhh… slurp, mmm~…”
Riyeon’s tongue started at my nipple, licking every inch of my chest and nipping with her teeth in between. Now and then she ground her lips against me and sucked hard enough to leave a hickey. Each time she did it, she kept her eyes wide open and looked straight up at me.
Even with her hands bound above her head in that ridiculous pose, whenever our eyes met my own lips would tingle and twitch. Catching that unconscious reaction, Riyeon gave a sly little smile with her eyes. She was delighted that I was lusting after her—and she lusted right back.
I ached with the fullness of wanting to drive into her; she ached with the hollow emptiness deep inside that wanted to take me. A proper virtuous cycle of desire. But we couldn’t. A relationship that can accept pure, mutual heat as affection has to move past the “something” stage. Riyeon knew that too, which was why she couldn’t hold back and was biting and sucking like this instead.
Even as mottled blue-purple flowers bloomed all over my skin, I did little more than flinch. When I calmly controlled my breathing and looked down at her, her pride took a hit. She pulled her gaze away, closed her eyes, soaked my nape wet, then rode her mouth down my shoulder and along my arm.
“Beeaaaahhh… slurp, slurp, suuuck.”
She deliberately made wet tongue noises, buried her nose in my armpit and inhaled, then shot straight down to my fingertips. From thumb to little finger she worked her whole head, filling every fingerprint and palm line with her saliva until they gleamed. Once she finished marking that arm and hand she moved to the other, then chest, ribs, solar plexus, stomach, sides—in that order.
Absolute chaos broke out there. Anyone looking would have thought I’d been beaten black and blue. Now that she’d reached areas that wouldn’t show unless I took my clothes off, Riyeon’s half-lidded eyes rolled back until the whites showed and she sucked like a woman possessed.
“Tsuuuuuck… hah… hah… hah… hah… hah… hah… hah… hiii~.”
After a long, thorough session she would stare at the freshly claimed territory, mouth and tongue it like a dog, then grin like an idiot at the finished pattern. Watching her, I found myself smiling too—not the smile of shared lust, but the warm one you give a healthy, happily playing child. When our eyes brushed again, Riyeon puffed out one cheek, shy.
See? She’s a good girl. She could stage this whole scene as “punishment” and still check my face for permission. Only when I smiled and allowed it would she move on. Her twisted obsession and affection were under my control. As long as I never let her sink into excessive despair or anxiety, she would gladly hand me her reins just like this. Whether she liked it or not, this socially awkward, cunning beauty knew I was the one who decided how this relationship ended.
No matter how hard she tried to grab and shake me, if I didn’t accept her it would just turn into dirty, pathetic stalking. Our relationship only existed because I held her interest and feelings. If I turned away, no matter how many messages she sent, that little “1” would never disappear—and the passenger seat of her Genesis, now that it had known my warmth, would never let anyone else sit there again. Her unanswered courtship would pile up, layer after vivid layer, trapped in the empty space around me and never fading. Could Riyeon endure that? She’d probably break and break until she wanted even my corpse. Or so I’d read in yandere manga.
I still didn’t understand why those manga never just accept the yandere. When someone likes me this much, isn’t the sensible thing to feel grateful and prepare to spend the rest of my half-life matching her pace with my whole body? Long story short: I’m the one on top in this relationship. I’m the master holding Riyeon’s reins. Riyeon herself… if I had to pick a metaphor, she’s a beautiful woman like a tiger that bites hard when it plays.
Come to think of it, they say a tiger’s tongue can strip human skin. Luckily Riyeon’s tongue and teeth weren’t peeling me. Still, I wished she’d go easy around my navel. She’d decorated the ugly little thing like a sunflower, and I was going to feel ridiculous in the shower.
“Hauum… mmm…”
Even the hair on my stomach was soaked like seaweed. What Riyeon was after now lay lower—the lower abdomen and beneath. But that place was still thinly protected by my underwear. I’d been wearing pajama pants too, yet I felt no fabric against my thighs and the air was cool; they must have been snipped off with scissors from the start. If she was going to cut them anyway, why put the pajamas on me in the first place?
Her progress stopped right above the underwear. She stared at me, waiting. I gave her nothing, like a trainer teaching “stay.” If she didn’t realize it and act on her own, it meant nothing. I would only ever permit what stayed inside the lines she herself had drawn. Riyeon needed to learn just how tightly those lines she had set would bind and constrain her. In a broad sense, this was also training her social skills.
“Hiiing~.”
Unable to hold back, she took the waistband of my underwear between her teeth in tiny bites and tugged upward. If she yanked it down, my thick emblem would spring free—but Riyeon, you were the one who called this a “something,” the one who said you didn’t want to look easy. Crossing that line was absolutely not allowed.
Right.
“No.”
“Hiiiing!”
She still thought if she whined enough I’d give in; her face was pure pleading coquetry. Even in the dark the secret two-tone blue of her hair made clear little waves.
“Hah… hah…”
When I stayed firm she changed tactics. She let go of the underwear and stuck her tongue out, flicking it. She couldn’t manage the spit that had pooled from wanting me so badly; it dripped, drop by drop, leaving a dark stain on the fabric. Beneath that stain she desperately craved the blunt, massive shape hidden there. In the end she even licked the underwear itself, wordlessly begging.
“No.”
“Hing!”
She stuck out her lower lip. She was protesting that she was sulking, yet she refused to pull back from my underwear. The awareness that she was supposed to be the one punishing me had vanished long ago. She was demanding the next step and simply waiting for permission. Not a chance.
Both of us were first-timers. Being inexperienced at this age was embarrassing, but like Riyeon had said before, I wanted our first time to be special, to have the right mood. She knew that too, which was why she couldn’t push too hard.
“Sniff sniff.”
She buried her nose completely and huffed my scent. Pure puppy behavior—but if I gave in here she would instantly turn into a tiger and try to devour me. When dealing with a beast there is one iron rule you must never forget: never show your back. Instinct will make them leap. So it was time to turn Riyeon from beast back into person.
“Riyeon.”
“Hmph!”
When a human called her name the beast only snorted and buried her nose deeper. Damn it. Watching a woman this pretty act like that in front of me stirred sadism and pleasure, but I had to stay calm. If I became the same kind of animal, pure power dynamics would have me dragged around by Riyeon—with her teeth in the back of my neck, no less.
“Yu Riyeon.”
“…What.”
When I put force into my throat and called her full name, a sulky answer came back. Even that was so cute I stroked her hair. She grabbed my hand with a dissatisfied look but didn’t swat it away. She was still chewing on the fabric of my underwear, though. One wrong move and she might nibble the corner of me too; I really wished she’d stop.
“You sulking?”
“No!”
“You’re sulking.”
“I’m not! Oppa’s the one who went and cheated on me!”
“That was before I met Riyeon.”
“Then Oppa would be fine if I, before I met Oppa—!”
Riyeon hurriedly corrected herself.
“Hypothetically? It never actually happened?”
“Of course not, of course not.”
“So if I told you that before meeting Oppa I ate meals and drank with other guys, you wouldn’t care?”
“I would. I’d care a ton. Just the fact that something like that existed would piss me off.”
“See!”
“That’s how much I care about Riyeon.”
I cut off the counterattack she was about to launch. Normally it wouldn’t have worked, but as you know, Riyeon had spent the entire time inhaling my scent—including the aged smell of my most private place. She was like a cat that had mainlined catnip; while she was still dazed she fell for my shallow trick.
“How much do you care about me, Riyeon?”
“How much do I care?”
Riyeon rose unsteadily from her spot.
“I like that question.”
“Yeah?”
It hadn’t seemed like a particularly novel question to me. While I simply listened, she undid my bound arms. Looking closer, the thing that had been restraining me was my own belt. Completely bent out of shape; unusable now.
“You always only ask why I like you.”
She carefully lowered my arms to my waist. Then, legs shaky, she settled herself astride my left hand. My fingers met damp cloth.
“This is the first time you’ve asked how much.”
Similar meaning, sure. Riyeon took my hand.
“How much do I like you?”
And then she pulled her own panties down and pressed my hand between her legs. Instead of rough, curly hair I felt a wet, sticky thicket.
“I like you so much I can’t stand it.”
Well.
I’ll probably say this a lot from now on, but this was the “first” time I’d ever touched a woman’s pussy. I knew it was supposed to be damp, but was the outside always this wet too? More than that, even with hair there was a surprising amount of smooth surface. Especially the parted slit rubbing across my index, middle, and ring fingers.
Clitoris?
I couldn’t find the little bean-shaped pleasure spot I’d heard about. Hard to locate by touch alone.
Slap.
Still, I wanted to find it, so I pressed my whole hand up. My entire palm slapped wetly against Riyeon’s pussy.
“Hhk…!”
There was more fluid than I’d expected, so I pulled away and tried again.
Slap.
“Hhut…!”
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
The reason I was touching her this way was because my nails had reached the point of needing a trim. In theory I knew that just shoving fingers into the slit the way they did in porn could leave scratches. And besides…
“Hiiik!”
“Aang!”
“Aaaang!”
Just this alone was drawing extraordinary reactions from Riyeon.
Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap
I was also curious how a sound like that even happened, so I kept smacking. I never imagined a woman’s lower body could produce this much moisture.
Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap
“S-stop…!”
“Why?”
“I-it feels weird…!”
“No.”
I couldn’t stop. There was no way I was going to end the rare spectacle of Riyeon—who had been so wild and heated—helpless under nothing but my palm.
Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!
“No! Nooo…!”
Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!
“Oppa, seriously, you can’t…!”
“Riyeon.”
“Y-yes…”
I asked, half in disbelief.
“You keep saying no, so why are you grinding down on my hand? You could just get off.”
Right then my finger slipped and flicked something.
“Hiiik?! Ooooh! Aaaang! Aang! Aang! Aang! Aang! Aang! Aang! Ang!”
Suddenly Riyeon’s waist didn’t just tremble—it convulsed, vibrating hard—and then,
“I-I can’t!!”
With a sound almost exactly like pissing, hot liquid sprayed all the way up to my elbow. Pshuuut!
“Ubbbbb, aang… uuuung…! Ugggghk…!”
She even tensed her stomach trying to stop it, but that only made the fountain burst harder. Even clenching her teeth, electric moans still leaked through; in the end Riyeon gave up and madly ground her pussy against my palm.
“Aaaaaaaang! Aang! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaang!!!!”
Pshuut! Shaaaaaaaa—!
Until now I’d only ever thought a man’s cumshot had that kind of range. Turns out a woman’s fountain was exactly the same. Love juice sprayed past my elbow, up to my face, even to the corner of my eye, and I savored the base, triumphant feeling of having made Riyeon come with nothing but my hand.
“Heuuuung… heuung… heung… oooh…!”
After shaking out the last aftershocks and finishing her fountain show, Riyeon simply collapsed forward and rested her head on my shoulder.
“Haa… haa… haa… Oppa…”
“Yeah.”
“Did you… feel how much I like you…?”
“Yeah. You like me a lot, huh?”
“Hihi… hihihi… yeah…”
Fucking filthy. We hadn’t even done it and it was filthy. My lower half felt ready to explode, but I held on. I was seriously considering whether I could last even twelve full run-throughs of the national anthem when Riyeon solved the problem in one stroke.
“Oppa.”
“…What is it, Riyeon.”
If you tempt me one more time here I really won’t be able to—
“Help me wash the blanket. I only have this one. It’s too soaked to sleep under like this.”
Not hard at all. Completely not hard. I was now thoroughly ready for some wholesome labor.
“Riyeon.”
“Hm?”
“What time is it?”
“It’s… past one.”
Ah, hell.
We’re screwed.