The Lives We Didn't Choose (AJS Roleplaying x Kita-san)

[AJS Roleplaying]

The Lives We Didn't Choose A Roleplay Brought to You By: ​

Adrian 'AJ' Carlson Jr. written by AJS Roleplaying ​

Verena "Rena" Bristol written by Kita-san ​

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[AJS Roleplaying]

Verena's every movement, every breath, every sound - whether deliberate or involuntary - became a wordless declaration, a hymn of trust and surrender. The way she yielded to him, the way her body responded with such complete openness, told AJ more than any confession ever could. It was there in the way she let herself be seen, let herself be touched, fully and without hesitation. She was offering herself without reservation now, and he felt the magnitude of that offering deep in his chest.

He hadn't forgotten what she had shared with him over the past few weeks - fragmented pieces of a painful past, moments she had carried alone until she trusted him enough to say them aloud. Each revelation had been a small, brave step, and he had held them with care. But this moment - this sacred, physical trust - felt like the culmination of it all. A silent vow. A gift. One he had no intention of taking lightly. There was reverence in every movement he made. Every shift of his body, every flick of his tongue, was deliberate. AJ moved in a way that whispered, Thank you. I see you. I cherish this. The intimacy between them was more than physical - it was deeply emotional, electric with both heat and meaning. This wasn't about dominance, or even pleasure alone. It was about trust being made flesh.

And yet, within that tenderness, he let himself play. He changed his rhythm, introducing a touch more urgency - aggressive, but enough to surprise her, to keep her in that edge-space between anticipation and reaction. He wanted to unearth every layer of her desire, draw out new sounds, new shivers, new ways her body might respond to being adored. His tongue moved with intentional grace, trailing up and down the length of her pussy in unhurried strokes. When he reached the top, he circled her clit with practiced care, not too fast, not too light - enough to make her feel it build, tease by tease. Then, as he descended again, he'd let the very tip of his tongue just brush over her entrance, tasting her, tempting her, but never quite giving her the full sensation of penetration. It was a dance of almosts, of provocative restraint.

He did this for long minutes, allowing her to fall deeper into the sensations he conjured. He was acutely aware of her reactions - the shifting of her hips, the small, breathless gasps, the way tension gathered in her muscles only to tremble and release. She was already unravelling, and that pleased him deeply. But he wasn't satisfied with merely making her come. No, tonight he wanted more. How far could he take her? That was the question in his mind, the quiet challenge that fuelled his every move. Could he guide her into new territory, coax out moans she didn't even know she could make? Could he tap into that deep well of pleasure that lived in every woman but was rarely brought forth with such care?

He shifted again, not out of impatience but precision. Two fingers found her now-dripping entrance and, with steady pressure, began to press inside. She was hot, tight, and slick, and the way she welcomed him in made his cock ache with need. But this moment wasn't about his release - it was about hers. His fingers slid in slowly, deliberately, feeling the soft give of her inner walls as they stretched around him. There was no rush. Only connection. Only this. He curled his fingers just slightly, angling them to find the spot he knew would make her back arch, make her breath catch in her throat. All while his tongue stayed busy, never breaking its rhythm on her clit—now circling, now applying the kind of pressure that turned desire into need, need into helpless, pulsing want.

He was relentless in the most careful way. Every stroke of his tongue was in conversation with the slow, firm thrust of his fingers. It wasn't about speed. It was about sensation, about layering pleasure upon pleasure until she was trembling on the edge. He wanted her to feel consumed by it. Overwhelmed. Lost in the world he was creating for her. This was no performance. This was devotion, plain and raw. Her body was giving him everything - every sound, every pulse, every twitch - and AJ read it like a language only he was meant to understand. He responded to her without needing instruction. He knew when to slow, when to deepen, when to push just a little further. He wanted to explore every nuance of her desire, to map it with tongue and fingers and time. He didn't care how long it took. Didn't care if he made her come once or ten times. What mattered was the journey, the surrender, the connection that tethered them to each other in this moment. She had given him her trust. And AJ would worship every inch of it.

As her body began to tighten again, signaling the build of another wave, he didn't relent. He leaned into it, deeper, firmer, more insistent. Not to force her over - but to let her know she was safe to fall. Safe to lose herself. Safe with him. Tonight wasn't just about pleasure. It was about her healing, her freedom, and the sacredness of being fully known. And AJ would spend all night proving she was worthy of nothing less.​

 

[Kita-san]

Verena's body was a symphony of sensations, each touch, each stroke of AJ's tongue and fingers sending her spiralling into a realm of pleasure she had never known. The way he moved, with such precision and care, was both a tease and a promise. She could feel the tension building within her, a coil of desire that was tightening with every deliberate movement he made. No words could describe what she was feeling, she couldn’t even focus enough to put together a proper sentence.

His tongue was a work of art, tracing patterns on her most sensitive spots with a skill that left her breathless. Each circle around her clit sent jolts of electricity through her, making her hips shift restlessly. She could feel the heat building, the pressure mounting, and she knew she was on the brink of something extraordinary. Yet, he held her there, on the edge, never quite letting her fall, always bringing her back with a flick of his tongue or a gentle nudge of his fingers.

When his fingers finally entered her, it was a slow, deliberate invasion that made her gasp. She could feel every inch, the way they stretched her, the way they curled to hit that perfect spot that made her back arch. It was as if he knew her body better than she did, anticipating her needs, responding to her every twitch and moan. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, creating a symphony of sensation that was almost too much to bear.

"Oh god, AJ," she moaned with a fist full of bed sheet. She bit her bottom lip, again trying to ground herself. The sounds that filled the room were beyond enticing to Verena. She could tell the moans she made encouraged AJ. In fact he intensified his efforts, his fingers thrusting deeper, his tongue moving faster, circling her clit with a relentless rhythm that had her teetering on the edge of ecstasy. She could feel the orgasm building, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume her, and she knew she was helpless against it.

Her body began to tremble, her muscles tensing as the pleasure reached a crescendo. She could feel every nerve ending alight, every sensation amplified, and she let herself go, surrendering to the wave that was about to crash over her. Her body arched, her eyes closed, and she cried out, her voice echoing in the room as the orgasm tore through her.

His fingers and tongue worked in perfect harmony, drawing out her pleasure, making her ride the wave until she was gasping for breath, her mind a blur of sensations. She was lost in the moment, lost in him, and she never wanted to find her way back.

As the aftershocks subsided, Verena lay there, her body still sensitive to touch, her mind reeling from the intensity of her release. Slowly she propped herself up on her elbows. It took all the strength she had left at the moment. She felt winded in a good way, her wanted to be touched again. She wanted AJ to continue loving on her.

Slowly her eyes fell upon him. She looked up at AJ, seeing the raw desire and devotion in his eyes, and she knew that this was just the beginning. He had shown her a world of pleasure she never knew existed, and she was eager to explore it further, to let him guide her, to let him worship her, to let him make her feel alive in ways she had never imagined.

 

[AJS Roleplaying]

AJ looked up at Verena through the soft, glistening warmth of her parted thighs, the view between her legs drawing him into something more than lust - something reverent, something close to worship. Her pussy, slick and flushed from his attentions, framed his face like a dark halo. He could feel the ache in her, the subtle shiver in her limbs, the breath she held like a promise. She had come already, beautifully, unravelling under the slow, deliberate rhythm of his tongue and fingers. And yet - he could tell she wasn't done. Not even close. And he wasn't either.

The hunger in her eyes matched the one that had been simmering inside him from the moment he tasted her. That need - raw and intimate - passed between them without a word. She wanted more. And more she would have. He rose to his feet slowly, never once looking away. His eyes, still dark with arousal, were fixed on her as if she were the only thing anchoring him to this world. His hands moved to his belt with the kind of calm that spoke to certainty, not haste. He unbuckled it, the metallic click of the clasp unfastening punctuating the quiet like a promise. Then came the sound of the zipper, low and smooth, followed by the rustle of denim being drawn down. He stepped out of his jeans and peeled off his underwear, letting them fall in the same careless heap.

His cock sprang free, hard and aching - thick with blood, flushed at the tip, and glistening faintly from the arousal that had been building inside him while he'd watched her fall apart beneath his mouth. There was nothing shy about the way he stood there - he let her see all of him, the weight of his desire, the intent in every line of his body. He climbed onto the bed - onto her - with the same purpose he had always brought to his work, his thoughts, his ambitions. But this was something else entirely. This was not about dominance. Not about control. It was about something deeper. The desire to give as much as he took. He hovered over her, his arms caging her in, his mouth finding hers with a kind of intensity that bordered on desperate. Not desperate in need, but in meaning. The kiss he gave her then wasn't soft - it was firm, slow, deliberate. "Mine," it said, though there was no jealousy in it. No possessiveness in the traditional sense. He wasn't claiming her like an object, a thing. He was claiming this moment. This connection. This electricity that crackled between their bodies and drew them tighter, ever tighter, until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

His cock found its place almost instinctively, nestled between the lips of her sex, nudging forward just slightly - enough for them both to feel that first, exquisite contact. He didn't rush. The urgency wasn't in the speed; it was in the inevitability. They both knew what was coming. And they both wanted to savour it. He reached down, wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft, and held it still. He was lining himself up not just to penetrate her, but to join her. To mark this second act as something meaningful. He looked into her eyes, finding that same flicker of need, that silent invitation that said everything words never could.

And then, finally, he began to push forward. Gently at first. Firmly. His hips moved with precision, controlled and steady, driving his cock into her inch by glorious inch. Her heat welcomed him, surrounded him, clung to him like velvet soaked in fire. The sensation made his head fall forward, a groan escaping his throat without permission. She felt so fucking good - better than he remembered, better than anything else. He paused when he was fully seated inside her, letting them both adjust, letting that first moment of fullness settle between them like an unspoken vow. He didn't need to move yet. Just being inside her was enough to send a ripple of ecstasy through every nerve in his body.

AJ's hands settled on either side of her, gripping the sheets, grounding himself. He looked down at her, her body beneath him still catching the remnants of her last climax, flushed and glowing. His cock pulsed inside her with the heavy beat of his own need, but he held himself back just a moment longer. Not out of restraint - but out of reverence. This wasn't just sex. It wasn't just another fuck. This was something forged in fire and flesh. This was the kind of connection that burned through skin and bone and anchored itself somewhere in the soul. And he wanted to make sure she felt that.

Slowly, he began to move, dragging his hips back just enough to build the rhythm, his strokes unhurried but deep - each thrust a declaration. He didn't speak, but his body did. It told her everything he couldn't put into words: how much he needed her, how long he'd wanted this, how utterly undone he felt with her wrapped around him. And in that moment, in that bed, in the hush of that room, nothing else existed. Only the slick, wet sounds of their bodies coming together. Only the fire blooming low in his spine. Only the certainty that this was exactly where he was meant to be.​

 

[Kita-san]

Verena's eyes, wide with anticipation, followed AJ's every movement as he undressed. The metallic click of his belt unfastening echoed in the room, a promise of what was to come. The rasp of his zipper and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor sent shivers down her spine, her breath hitching with each reveal of his taut, muscular form. When he stood before her, naked and unabashed, his cock hard and glistening with arousal, Verena's gaze locked onto him, drinking in the sight of his desire.

As he climbed onto the bed, his movements were deliberate, a predator stalking his prey. When he caged her in with his arms, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress, Verena felt a surge of heat. His kiss was fierce, a claiming that left no room for doubt. It was a promise of what was to come, a vow of mutual surrender. She could taste his need, feel the intensity of his hunger, and it ignited something primal within her.

AJ's cock nestled against her sex, the heat of him searing her skin. Verena arched her hips, inviting him in, her body already aching for the fullness she knew he could provide. When he finally began to push into her, it was a slow, deliberate invasion that made her moan. She could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched her, filled her, completed her. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that left her breathless. "Mmm," she moaned. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails resting gently against his flesh. She knew at some point her nails would be light digging into his flesh, encouraging and urging him deeper.

With each full, deep thrust she could feel the tension building within her, the pressure mounting within her core. Her body responded to his every movement. Their bodies moved in a dance as old as time. Verena could help but move a hand down one of his arms, feeling the muscle that flexed from his movements. She resisting the urge to wrap her legs around him, she didn’t want to prevent movement. She wanted AJ to have full control, to love on her the way he wanted to which was the best way to her. Nothing else mattered, everything outside AJ wasn’t even a thought. Time slowed in the best way at this moment.

Verena's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through her. Each thrust of AJ's hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, the friction of their bodies coming together creating a heat that threatened to consume her. She could feel the orgasm building, a coil of tension in her core that tightened with each movement, each stroke.
Her moans grew louder, more desperate. She didn’t want this feeling to go away.

What began as a simple getaway had unexpectedly transformed into something far more profound. This trip—meant to be a break from routine—became a turning point, a space where buried emotions rose to the surface and long-avoided truths were finally confronted. For Verena, it brought clarity she didn't know she needed. The lingering uncertainties that once clouded her heart began to dissipate, replaced by a deep sense of trust, growing confidence, and a romance that bloomed in the most unanticipated of moments.

For years, Verena had clung to the idea of James being her forever—her end all, be all. She'd poured herself into the relationship, desperate to make it work, even when happiness felt like a distant memory. She mistook endurance for love, sacrifice for partnership. But AJ had shown her something different—something gentler, something real. With him, there was no pressure to pretend, no fear of falling short. He offered her a safe place to land, a reminder that it's okay when things don't work out the way we planned. Life, after all, has a way of surprising us when we least expect it. And AJ—he was one of those beautiful surprises Verena was finally ready to embrace.

In the stillness of the room, time seemed to pause. The comforter had slipped from the bed and pooled on the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment. The only sounds were the quiet rustle of sheets and the subtle rhythm of motion—soft, urgent, intimate. Verena's breath came in delicate, heated sighs, each one a testament to the surrender she had allowed herself. AJ's cock continued to press and rub the sensitive areas of her sex. The throbbing sensation of his cock only added to that pleasure. Once again she felt herself on the edge. It wasn't just physical—it was emotional. Tangled in each other, they weren't just making love; they were rewriting the narrative, healing old wounds with every touch.