Romantic Battery Acid

“How big’s that dick boy-”

“Small. Leave me alone.”

“Aw c’mon! Humor me for a bit would you?”

“I’m late for class, Jiyu.”

-

Seo Jiyu, the girl next door. A valedictorian, on top of her status as an Ivy League student. The kind of kid you would never want as a relative, a neighbour, or really anything even remotely associated with yourself. The type which every parent would endlessly compare their kid to, and sadly for you, your mom does exactly that. There’s really not much room to argue either. She’s smart, athletic, albeit a little short. Truly a treasure amongst the heaps of ordinary, and everything in between. 

Yes, you get the point. Now stop the comparison, would you? Thing is, you can’t. Not when she greets you–and your parents–every single day without fail. Like she did just now.

“Seriously though, you should stop saying things like that in front of my house,” you grumble as you close the door of your car.

“Y’think? I’ve been spewing bullshit for…ever, though?” Jiyu, on the passenger seat, answers with a level of nonchalance you thought is only possible for twitch streamers.

A tired sigh escapes your nose cavity. You turn your head around, reversing the car reluctantly. It’s 8 in the morning. Way too early to fall into Jiyu’s tomfoolery.

Today’s class is Basic Surgery. The one class you despise the most. No, take that back, you actually hate Medical Degrees as a whole. So much so that there are days you’d seriously consider blowing up the whole campus rather than attending a lesson. Not because you hate the knowledge itself, the people in it are usually quite nice too. It's just that…you’re actually afraid of blood.

Hemophobia, a phobia of blood–not to be confused with a similar sounding phobia–is a real term for a bodily response upon the sight of blood, of which it often causes a sudden drop of blood pressure which, leading to dizziness or fainting. Not the best thing to have as a student in a medical degree, if you’re being honest. So why even take it in the first place? The answer is, simply put, Jiyu.

“Hmm, traffic. Always there when you’re in a hurry,” Jiyu needlessly remarks.

You don’t even bother, just continuing switching your gaze to your watch, back to the road, watch, road, hoping that it would magically clear the way. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t. Class starts in 15 minutes.

“Should we walk?”

Once again you keep your mouth shut and just give her the “are you deadass” look. There’s like, 10 whole miles to cover. No way you’re walking that.

“Ey, c’mon, it’s not that far. The sun isn’t too high now, that should make it easier. We can just park the car there, at that gas station right ahead,” Jiyu points in the direction with her uplifted chin. The confidence she puts in that sentence despite barely being able to see across the dashboard is amazing.

“We are literally not moving Jiyu. Be for real. Also, easy for you to say, you’re literally a marathon athlete.”

You don’t even need to move your head to know that Jiyu is scratching the back of her head with one eye closed and her tongue peeking out of her lips. “Hehe.”

The muscles in your jaws clench as you grip the steering wheel tighter. Maybe she does have a point. At this rate you’re never gonna make it into class. “Maybe I should just skip it. I mean, it’s gonna be surgery training. I’m probably gonna pass out anyway.”

“Ha. Excuses, excuses.”

“...”

“...”

“So do we fuck now or what.”

“Jiyu!”

-

Jiyu, for the longest time you’ve known her, has always been nothing but a little brat–no pun intended. 

There’s this one time she sneaked out of her class in the middle of the most humid summer night to meet you at the parking lot of a swimming pool, just to fuck. Branching out of her running path in the middle of a marathon training because you were in a cafe right by the side of the city, just to fuck. And the most recent one, of course, pulling you out of the theater just to drag you to the toilet and pull out your cock, to fuck. 

You’re living your best life! is what everyone says when they see her together with you. Fuck that, you say. They don’t know how it feels. All they know is that you, Jiyu, together, good. Well, to some degree, perchance.

-

Beep

You reach the buzzing shining magic sentient rock nesting inside your pocket, on it is the notification of Jiyu’s chat. 

Are you seriously gonna leave me here alone?!?!

A gust of warm air rushes through your nose. It feels like there’s a massive weight crashing down on your shoulder, at least a 100kg barbell squat, without the smith machine. Your steps slow down as your fingers try their best to weave across the screen.

Yes. I have another class to attend.

You don’t. It’s an excuse to have a break. A cooldown, if you may. You’re still dazed, the cadaver you’re examining was dry, but not the video that was presented before it. You don’t even want to see anything that has a sprinkle of red in it, lest you’d throw up on the spot. To see Jiyu, on top of everything, would be no different than shooting yourself in the knees–both of them.

No you don’t.

Don’t ask me how I know, just that I do.

C’mon, I’ll be waiting at the usual, meet you in 15. 

Be there or be bear!

Huh, seriously now. If anything, she is the Bear in this…whatever this is.

But you can’t say no. You won’t. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. This is freaking Seo Jiyu. Try as you might, you would never be able to resist her in any fucking way.

-

You arrive at the chinese spot, the place she likes to frequent. In no way it is the best Chinese cuisine the town has to offer, but it has its pros. The abnormally clean toilet. The one Jiyu is currently sitting on, with your dick lodged deep in her throat.

You’re fisting her hair in a makeshift ponytail as you keep her locked in place. Her nose pressed flush against your pubes. She looks up at you the whole time she’s wilding down there. Gagging, drooling, smiling. Devious little slut.

“Jiyu…” 

You’re close. She knows. You’re throbbing in the constricting tights within her neck. It’s bulging, mostly her pulse, but some are your pushes. She gives you a little bit of teeth on the base, the corner of her lips stays curved.

You pull back slightly and step forward, pushing her back down and low. With your hands still on that handle of her hair, you begin thrusting. You pound her hard, she’s clinging onto your thighs, desperately trying to keep her body afloat. Jiyu is basically on a zero gravity as you’re mating press her fucking throat. Doesn’t take much for you to unleash everything down into her stomach. Fuck.

Gags, drools, tears, sweat, semen. Everything, everywhere, all at fucking once. Jiyu is perfect. You empty yourself into her throat until she gags no more, going soft inside her warmth, much to her insistence–she doesn’t let your thighs go.

Only when your cock is out does she finally take a breath. Her face is unbelievably red after the obstruction of your shaft in her airway. She quickly leans forward and down to cough it up. Her body is soaked, just the way she likes it to be. Within her ragged breath and the poor attempt to regain her senses, she looks up at you.