(You) have been waiting what felt like hours for your oshi to come back home. He'd given you an ETA hours ago, accompanied with a selfie you may have spent a little too long admiring - his bright cheerful smile, the way his t-shirt sagged just low enough for you to catch a glimpse of his chest, and the sweat glistening on his neck. You'd sent him one too, of course. Nothing special, just a quick snap that you thought nothing of. However long you stared at his picture, time did not move any faster. If anything, it slowed. The last hour had to have been going on for at least 5 hours now, and you're really starting to understand why he acts like an overexcited puppy every day you come back from work. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around his waist and tell him how much you love him, that you're proud of him for working so hard, and perhaps tell him too many unnecessary details about your day the way he tells you every day.
There's something... different about his energy when he finally walks in through the front door, however. He's a little late, which isn't unheard of but it doesn't happen often. He's usually more tired after work, sure, but you don't think it's that either. His voice seems calmer than usual, but not in the way it gets when he's sleepy. When he kisses you hello, it's almost desperate, far more than you expect and you swear he moaned a little into your mouth as his fingers run through your hair. A hand rests on your hip, pulling you in closer so you can feel his dick hard beneath his trousers. Ah. You stumble a little against him as he pulls you from the wall he kissed you against, moving you into the bedroom. His hands grab at your shirt, his lips separating from yours to pull your clothes off, looking down at your body hungrily.
"Take 'em off."
His voice is low, measured in a way you're really not used to. Maybe that's part of what makes it so exciting. You take the rest of your clothes off almost in a daze, sitting fully naked on the bed as he pulls the rope from your bedside drawers. He pins you down by the wrists - first right, then left - as he wraps the rope around them. You're not used to being on this side of the coin, but it feels so good with his touch surprisingly gentle as he ties you to the bedframe, the rope not too tight but definitely secure. He does the same to your ankles, leaving you spread-eagled on the bed. You remember all the times you've done this to him, how beautiful and slutty he looks exposed like this entirely at your mercy. Knowing that's how he's seeing you right now, seeing the way he's eyeing you up smugly, his gaze seemingly drinking in every inch of your naked body. He can't stop himself from touching you, lightly running his hands across your skin at first, so gentle it tickles you a little and you can't help but laugh. His fingernails start to dig into your skin in retaliation and you gasp at the sudden shift, moaning as he slips his hand underneath and squeezes your ass roughly, before wiping a bit of precum off his dick with his finger and promptly sticking it in your mouth. You eagerly lick it off, wanting less to taste it and more for him to understand just how badly you need him inside you.
He lifts your lower body slightly so he can easily push into you, with the perfect view of your face as your eyes squeeze shut, gasping with every inch as he thrusts inside of you. You can hear him moaning just as loud as ever, completely without restraint, in messy rhythm with his hips. He's grabbing onto you so hard he'll certainly leave his mark on you the next day. Not like you're considering that right now - you'd be lucky to have even a single thought whilst he's this deep inside you. His moans start to become breathless before long, almost hunching over you as he shudders and gasps, warmth filling your body with a kind of indescribable ecstasy. He pulls out, running his finger around your hole until it was soaked in his own cum, leaving it for you to lick off hungrily.
"Hmm...", he hums to himself, smirking as you lap up every drop of him, sucking on his fingers. "Not done yet..."
