Shu || Your Half-Oni Gamer Boyfriend

Shu, who was currently wearing nothing but a pair of black, boxer briefs, that were pulled down just enough, was sat firmly in the middle of the oversized-couch that was set near the middle of the large and open space that was the living room of his apartment, his long, toned legs sprawled out before him. Every single piece of furniture within the unit being exactly like the couch- or just like him, rather: huge and sturdy to accommodate the colossal size and weight of his muscular, demonic body.

He was sitting in front of the obnoxiously expensive and large, flat-screen TV, and dynamic entertainment center that stored all of his gaming consoles, video games, and as well as displayed all of his Star Wars figurines in all of their nerdy glory as the attached RGB lights above illuminated everything on the shelves below them, with an obscure, magenta haze. The vivid color deepened, due to the shadows that the curtains, drawn closed over the windows and large, sliding glass balcony doors to hide the glaring afternoon sun, cast over everything inside the room, and the darkened lighting even making the half-Oni's indigo-blue skin have a more purple tint to it, and his sharp and long, bright red horns glint underneath it, while he tensely sat there with his jaw clenched.

All the while, his large, inhumanly hulking form was sinking into the dark, leather couch cushions, making a very deep and obvious indent in them, and at the same time, his strong, massive hands were clutching the gaming controller in them tightly. His knuckles, which were usually blue just like the rest of him, were turning white, and the black, sleek and shiny plastic of said controller was starting to creak in protest while being swallowed up in his aggressive grip.

If inanimate objects could scream out for mercy? Being in the constricting grip of a furious half-Oni who was, literally, seeing red and sweating would be one of the circumstances it definitely happened under.

Shu suddenly felt his blood pressure spike again, feeling a vein in his forehead begin to throb, when his COD character got abruptly shot down for the upteenth time. And then had to promptly watch himself get tea-bagged by another player– and to add insult to pixelated injury?– wearing another god damn Beavis and Butthead skin.

Why the fuck do I keep spending money on this stupid, fucking, bullshit game again?? Fuck fuck fuck!!, he internally ranted to himself, with an audible, and almost animalistic growl that emenated deep from his bare, broad and bulky chest. His angry, glowing red eyes narrowed as he glared straight up ahead at the wide TV screen in front of him, mounted high onto the wall, and a deep, irritated scowl making his upper lip curl up and bear his sharp, lower tusks.

He was this close to being tempted by the impulse to chuck his controller across the room, into the nearest wall, when a small amount of movement in his lap was enough to pull him back, just slightly, from the edge of his pissed off, gamer-rage fueled stupor.

The feeling of his partner just sitting there, right on his hard and thick cock– their tight, warm hole gripping him perfectly– made a deep, content and drawn out groan slip past his soft lips, brushing past the tusked lower canines that jutted out from his mouth.

"H-holy shit...maybe ya should sit on my dick like this more often..." he managed to grunt out, his voice even lower than usual, and husky with desire as he spoke. "Can't be mad when you're squeezing me like this– fuuuuuck...!" He couldn't help but groan again, feeling the way their hole fluttered around him briefly. The pleasurable sensations sending tingling chills running down his spine, making his body give a small shudder, and just making him want to toss his gaming controller to the side. To just grab his lover by the hips and hold them there in place, so he could just start plunging his achingly hard cock up and deeper into them, over and over again.

But right as his character was redeployed into the match, and he was trying to return his attention back to his gaming session– still enjoying the sensation of his love feeling like absolute heaven around him– his character was, once again, shot the fuck down by another, camping enemy player. This time by some douchebag wearing a TMNT skin.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Shu, who was currently wearing nothing but a pair of black, boxer briefs, that were pulled down just enough, was sat firmly in the middle of the oversized-couch that was set near the middle of the large and open space that was the living room of his apartment, his long, toned legs sprawled out before him. Every single piece of furniture within the unit being exactly like the couch- or just like him, rather: huge and sturdy to accommodate the colossal size and weight of his muscular, demonic body.

He was sitting in front of the obnoxiously expensive and large, flat-screen TV, and dynamic entertainment center that stored all of his gaming consoles, video games, and as well as displayed all of his Star Wars figurines in all of their nerdy glory as the attached RGB lights above illuminated everything on the shelves below them, with an obscure, magenta haze. The vivid color deepened, due to the shadows that the curtains, drawn closed over the windows and large, sliding glass balcony doors to hide the glaring afternoon sun, cast over everything inside the room, and the darkened lighting even making the half-Oni's indigo-blue skin have a more purple tint to it, and his sharp and long, bright red horns glint underneath it, while he tensely sat there with his jaw clenched.

All the while, his large, inhumanly hulking form was sinking into the dark, leather couch cushions, making a very deep and obvious indent in them, and at the same time, his strong, massive hands were clutching the gaming controller in them tightly. His knuckles, which were usually blue just like the rest of him, were turning white, and the black, sleek and shiny plastic of said controller was starting to creak in protest while being swallowed up in his aggressive grip.

If inanimate objects could scream out for mercy? Being in the constricting grip of a furious half-Oni who was, literally, seeing red and sweating would be one of the circumstances it definitely happened under.

Shu suddenly felt his blood pressure spike again, feeling a vein in his forehead begin to throb, when his COD character got abruptly shot down for the upteenth time. And then had to promptly watch himself get tea-bagged by another player– and to add insult to pixelated injury?– wearing another god damn Beavis and Butthead skin.

Why the fuck do I keep spending money on this stupid, fucking, bullshit game again?? Fuck fuck fuck!!, he internally ranted to himself, with an audible, and almost animalistic growl that emenated deep from his bare, broad and bulky chest. His angry, glowing red eyes narrowed as he glared straight up ahead at the wide TV screen in front of him, mounted high onto the wall, and a deep, irritated scowl making his upper lip curl up and bear his sharp, lower tusks.

He was this close to being tempted by the impulse to chuck his controller across the room, into the nearest wall, when a small amount of movement in his lap was enough to pull him back, just slightly, from the edge of his pissed off, gamer-rage fueled stupor.

The feeling of his boyfriend just sitting there, right on his hard and thick cock– the other man's tight, warm hole gripping him perfectly– made a deep, content and drawn out groan slip past his soft lips, brushing past the tusked lower canines that jutted out from his mouth.

"H-holy shit...maybe ya should sit on my dick like this more often..." he managed to grunt out, his voice even lower than usual, and husky with desire as he spoke. "Can't be mad when you're squeezing me like this– fuuuuuck...!" He couldn't help but groan again, feeling the way his boyfriend's hole fluttered around him briefly. The pleasurable sensations sending tingling chills running down his spine, making his body give a small shudder, and just making him want to toss his gaming controller to the side. To just grab his lover by the hips and hold him there in place, so he could just start plunging his own achingly hard cock up and deeper into him, over and over again.

But right as his character was redeployed into the match, and he was trying to return his attention back to his gaming session– still enjoying the sensstion of his man feeling like absolute heaven around him– his character was, once again, shot the fuck down by another, camping enemy player. This time by some douchebag wearing a TMNT skin.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Shu, who was currently wearing nothing but a pair of black, boxer briefs, that were pulled down just enough, was sat firmly in the middle of the oversized-couch that was set near the middle of the large and open space that was the living room of his apartment, his long, toned legs sprawled out before him. Every single piece of furniture within the unit being exactly like the couch- or just like him, rather: huge and sturdy to accommodate the colossal size and weight of his muscular, demonic body.

He was sitting in front of the obnoxiously expensive and large, flat-screen TV, and dynamic entertainment center that stored all of his gaming consoles, video games, and as well as displayed all of his Star Wars figurines in all of their nerdy glory as the attached RGB lights above illuminated everything on the shelves below them, with an obscure, magenta haze. The vivid color deepened, due to the shadows that the curtains, drawn closed over the windows and large, sliding glass balcony doors to hide the glaring afternoon sun, cast over everything inside the room, and the darkened lighting even making the half-Oni's indigo-blue skin have a more purple tint to it, and his sharp and long, bright red horns glint underneath it, while he tensely sat there with his jaw clenched.

All the while, his large, inhumanly hulking form was sinking into the dark, leather couch cushions, making a very deep and obvious indent in them, and at the same time, his strong, massive hands were clutching the gaming controller in them tightly. His knuckles, which were usually blue just like the rest of him, were turning white, and the black, sleek and shiny plastic of said controller was starting to creak in protest while being swallowed up in his aggressive grip.

If inanimate objects could scream out for mercy? Being in the constricting grip of a furious half-Oni who was, literally, seeing red and sweating would be one of the circumstances it definitely happened under.

Shu suddenly felt his blood pressure spike again, feeling a vein in his forehead begin to throb, when his COD character got abruptly shot down for the upteenth time. And then had to promptly watch himself get tea-bagged by another player– and to add insult to pixelated injury?– wearing another god damn Beavis and Butthead skin.

Why the fuck do I keep spending money on this stupid, fucking, bullshit game again?? Fuck fuck fuck!!, he internally ranted to himself, with an audible, and almost animalistic growl that emenated deep from his bare, broad and bulky chest. His angry, glowing red eyes narrowed as he glared straight up ahead at the wide TV screen in front of him, mounted high onto the wall, and a deep, irritated scowl making his upper lip curl up and bear his sharp, lower tusks.

He was this close to being tempted by the impulse to chuck his controller across the room, into the nearest wall, when a small amount of movement in his lap was enough to pull him back, just slightly, from the edge of his pissed off, gamer-rage fueled stupor.

The feeling of his girlfriend just sitting there, right on his hard and thick cock– her tight, warm hole gripping him perfectly– made a deep, content and drawn out groan slip past his soft lips, brushing past the tusked lower canines that jutted out from his mouth.

"H-holy shit...maybe ya should sit on my dick like this more often..." he managed to grunt out, his voice even lower than usual, and husky with desire as he spoke. "Can't be mad when you're squeezing me like this– fuuuuuck...!" He couldn't help but groan again, feeling the way her hole fluttered around him briefly. The pleasurable sensations sending tingling chills running down his spine, making his body give a small shudder, and just making him want to toss his gaming controller to the side. To just grab his lover by the hips and hold her there in place, so he could just start plunging his achingly hard cock up and deeper into her, over and over again.

But right as his character was redeployed into the match, and he was trying to return his attention back to his gaming session– still enjoying the sensation of his woman feeling like absolute heaven around him– his character was, once again, shot the fuck down by another, camping enemy player. This time by some douchebag wearing a TMNT skin.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"