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Lan WangJi falling in love somewhere along his journey in self pleasure. AKA a sexually frustrated babie boy. Frogbb for you my favorite amphibian.
You've heard of porn without a plot, now get ready for: porn with a plot.
If you are uncomfortable with mature content, this chapter isn't for you!
♥
That morning, Lan WangJi woke up with la créme de lust sticking to his thighs.
He had dreamed of Wei Ying again and his broad shoulders... swooping so gently into a womanly waist; his alluring blend of feminine masculinity. He dreamed of nibbling on Wei Ying's sun-soaked skin, and how it tasted just as golden as it looked. He dreamed of pruning Wei Ying's every petal on the floor of the library, lain in a bed of literature, hearing him moan and moan on. The dream was hypnotic, and Lan WangJi's snake was charmed again as he remembered it.
Sitting against his headboard, WangJi undid the sash of his night robe and let it pool around his waist, the blue silk parting, his manhood blooming. He was always afraid to touch himself. Since youth, he was taught that it was sin. But when he touched himself, it didn't feel sinful.
It felt heavenly.
He grabbed a fragrant oil from his nightstand and lathered his hands until they shone with lavender. Anticipation throbbed through his bluish veins. Carefully he took himself in one hand and stroked. Up, down. Up, down. Gently, slowly, Lan WangJi moved. He tried not to think of Wei WuXian, but Wei WuXian was the reason he was like this.
Lan WangJi grunted, angrily clicking his teeth. In moments like these, he hated himself.
He was confused and frustrated by his attraction.
He was confused and frustrated by the heat in his loins.
What did it all mean?
He was just eighteen and knew nothing beyond himself, sheltered by watchful eyes and wrinkled faces his entire life.
Moaning loudly, Lan WangJi pleasured his manhood enthusiastically. The calloused patches on his palm scratched an itch deep within. As he stroked faster and faster, thickened euphoria settled in his abdomen. The honey-pleasure spread through his thighs and up his back, to the base of his head, and to the tip of his cock, so unbelievably warm it felt cold, tingling like flickering snow. His legs twitched. Toes curled. His eyes pinched tight and his lips thinned, whitened by pressure.
