Your hands on his shoulders, your helplessly wanting cry in his ear - Date hisses in a breath through his nose, working his tongue in the limited space he has to work with. He pulls back, laves your tip, measuring the taste of you, paying close, suckling attention to the frenulum under your head. But you're shaking, trembling, and he has no desire to be cruel.

Again he takes you in, deeper this time, tightening his lips around your shaft, loosening to adjust, tightening again. This time he gets the suction and the placement right, and he's obviously very comfortable as he suckles you down, sliding smoothly almost to your base, and back again, setting up a confident rhythm. His shoulders bunch under your hands as, with everything properly settled in front and center, he can release your hip and your balls and instead grip your thighs, bracing your knees against his upper arms. His own kneeling stance is braced strongly, every bit of him that you can see engaged in this, absorbed in the concentration he's putting into this.

Past his shoulders, you can see his toes gripping the tile, his calves tensing with each dip forward he makes, even his ass and the small of his back. Every bit of him moves with intent, with focus. Date Akira doesn't do anything halfway. And though he's loquacious to be sure, he never relies on only words when the same message can also be conveyed, with more certainty, in other ways.

He's got you. Go crazy.