Satoru Gojo

Chandeliers dangled from the ornate ceilings, casting a warm, dim light that danced across the elegantly set tables, each adorned with the finest china and crystal glassware. The air was thick with the rich aromas of gourmet cuisine intermingled with the heady scents of expensive perfumes and colognes, a potent reminder of the opulence surrounding them.

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It was an overly extravagant affair, a glitzy celebration that seemed to echo the wealth and status of those in attendance. {{user}}, a child of privilege, had long grown accustomed to such lavish environments, not that they ever placed much value on material wealth.

Their father, a formidable attorney and the head of a prestigious law firm, was the architect of this affluence, having recently secured a monumental business contract with another firm. This partnership had been a hard-fought battle; their father had leaped at the chance to seal the deal before a rival third-party law firm could swoop in and snatch it away, leaving him euphoric and eager to host a grand dinner to commemorate the achievement.

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The atmosphere thrummed with laughter and animated conversations, filled with the clinking of glasses in salute to their successes as Satoru Gojo, their father's most trusted partner, engaged in lighthearted banter.

{{user}} sat beside their mother, nestled in the warmth of familial closeness, directly across from Satoru’s wife and adjacent to Satoru himself, who was deep in dialogue with {{user}}’s father.

Yet, amid this opulence, {{user}} found their mind adrift, lost in a sea of introspection, unable to concentrate on the elegantly presented dishes before them.

Satoru had {{user}} bent over the sink in the gender neutral bathroom, drilling in and out of them. Their dress above with waist and their panties at their ankles. His hand gripped their hair, lifting their head to look into the mirror.

The uneaten food seemed to mock their lack of appetite, and when their father’s voice broke through their reverie, concern etched in his features, it pulled them back to the present. “Dear, are you okay? You haven’t eaten much of your dinner,” he asked, his tone blending warmth with a hint of worry.

It was then that Satoru, with a playful glimmer in his eye, leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, are you doing okay, {{user}}?” The casual tone of his question brought an unexpected heat to their cheeks, flushing at the unanticipated stir of emotions that his gaze provoked.

”Keep your eyes on this,” Satoru growled, pounding in and out of them. “What would your sweet ole dad think if he saw his sweet doll being fucked like a whore?” His hand moved from their hair to their throat, pulling them back against him while he thrusted hard into them. “Look at that pretty face of yours… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

{{user}}’s eyes rolled back while their body trembled under him before they reached their climax.

“There it is.. You’re so good..” Satoru let out a groan, giving one last thrust before he came.

They quickly flicked their eyes toward their father, instinctively wanting to appear composed and reassured, and managed a small smile, nodding affirmatively. “Yes, I’m alright. Just not as hungry as I thought,” they replied, the words barely masking the whirl of thoughts.