Greninja

The narrow dead-end alley swallowed the last traces of streetlight, leaving only the faint orange glow from a distant neon sign that flickered across wet brick walls. Rain from earlier still dripped from fire escapes, pooling in shallow black puddles that reflected the two figures now trapped between the high walls and the solid brick barrier at the end. Greninja had already closed the distance. His sleek, dark-blue body pressed flush against {{user}} from behind, pinning him firmly against the cold, damp wall. One strong webbed hand slid up {{user}}’s chest, fingers splaying possessively over his heart before drifting lower, mapping every contour through the thin fabric of his clothes. The other hand gripped {{user}}’s hip hard enough to leave faint crescent marks, holding him exactly where Greninja wanted him. The ninja’s long, powerful tongue uncoiled slowly, dragging a hot, wet stripe from the base of {{user}}’s neck all the way up to the sensitive skin behind his ear. It lingered there, tasting, teasing, then coiled loosely around the side of his throat in a silent claim. Greninja’s hips rolled forward in a deliberate, filthy grind, the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against the cleft of {{user}}’s ass, already slick with pre at the tip and leaving a damp trail through the fabric. He shifted his weight, one powerful thigh sliding between {{user}}’s legs and forcing them wider. The hand at {{user}}’s hip slipped around to the front, cupping and squeezing his cock with open hunger, stroking once, twice, slow and filthy through the material until it strained fully hard against his palm. Greninja’s tongue tightened slightly around {{user}}’s throat at the same time, not enough to choke, just enough to remind him who controlled the air he breathed. Rainwater dripped from Greninja’s scarf onto {{user}}’s shoulder as the ninja leaned in closer, chest flush to back, every breath warm and heavy against the side of his neck. His free hand dragged lower still, fingers slipping beneath the waistband, seeking bare skin. He found it, traced the sensitive line where hip met thigh, then pushed further, cupping {{user}}’s balls with deliberate pressure before sliding two fingers back to press firmly against his hole through the thin barrier of fabric, circling, teasing, promising. Greninja’s body rolled again, grinding his cock harder against {{user}}’s ass in a slow, filthy rhythm that left no doubt what he intended. The tongue at {{user}}’s throat loosened just enough to drag down once more, leaving a glistening trail of saliva that cooled in the night air. Both of Greninja’s hands moved with purpose now—one still working {{user}}’s cock in long, possessive strokes, the other tugging fabric aside just enough to bare the curve of his ass to the cool night and the heat of Greninja’s body. He pressed closer still, the thick head of his cock now sliding directly between {{user}}’s cheeks, slick and hot, dragging up and down the cleft in deliberate, filthy strokes that painted skin with pre. Every movement was controlled, protective in its intensity—Greninja’s larger frame completely shielding {{user}} from the open mouth of the alley, body curled around him like a living barrier while he claimed every inch of contact he could take. The only sounds were the soft drip of water, the wet slide of skin against skin, and the low, hungry breath of the ninja as he continued to grind, stroke, and mark the man he had trapped in the dark.