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atama_ga_itai... part three!
May. 6th, 2008 12:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaSakaki knew how easy it was for teenage hormones to overcome a young man’s sense and send him into a raging spiral of drugs and sex and debauchery.
That was why Sakaki kept strict control of Hyotei’s tennis team. Nothing could set a player off his game like thoughts of sex, or unresolved tension. Sakaki had a strict regime to help the players resolve such issues before a match. Of course Sakaki never used it on the pre-regulars, there were too many of them, and they needed to learn how to overcome such distractions before they could possibly become Regulars.
“Kantoku.” Atobe’s cheeks had bloomed into a deep rose red, his eyes half wild with need. Atobe’s fine blond hair hung in his face, damp with sweat and clinging to him. Sakaki brushed the back of his hand over Atobe’s forehead, moving locks of hair out of Atobe’s eyes. “Kantoku please.”
“Hmm.” Sakaki rocked his hips upward, enjoying the bounce and grind of Atobe’s hips before grasping Atobe’s hips lightly and keeping him from moving. “Tell me again what you did wrong in the match with Fudomine.”
“Uhn.” Atobe’s squirms failed to elicit the reaction he wanted, and fine white teeth dug into Atobe’s plump bottom lip. Such a fine specimen of selective breeding, Atobe was. His mother’s lips and his father’s eyes, and his grandmothers aristocratic face. The Atobe matriarch had been a fine woman while she was alive, she had taught Sakaki everything he knew. “I… underestimated them. The players I, UHN!”
Atobe bucked helplessly when after a deep thrust Sakaki stayed still.
“Kantoku.” Atobe’s cheeks had bloomed into a deep rose red, his eyes half wild with need. Atobe’s fine blond hair hung in his face, damp with sweat and clinging to him. Sakaki brushed the back of his hand over Atobe’s forehead, moving locks of hair out of Atobe’s eyes. “Kantoku please.”
“Hmm.” Sakaki rocked his hips upward, enjoying the bounce and grind of Atobe’s hips before grasping Atobe’s hips lightly and keeping him from moving. “Tell me again what you did wrong in the match with Fudomine.”
“Uhn.” Atobe’s squirms failed to elicit the reaction he wanted, and fine white teeth dug into Atobe’s plump bottom lip. Such a fine specimen of selective breeding, Atobe was. His mother’s lips and his father’s eyes, and his grandmothers aristocratic face. The Atobe matriarch had been a fine woman while she was alive, she had taught Sakaki everything he knew. “I… underestimated them. The players I, UHN!”
Atobe bucked helplessly when after a deep thrust Sakaki stayed still.
