The Secret Book

Hi i'm Elro | NSFW 

[elrogee]

Really loved your story. Hope there's more Leeseo to cum.

Also, could you please use the "Read more" feature on your story. Or it will be hard to navigate through your blog.

Thank you for your kind word and your suggestion. I will feature it on the next one!

[elrogee]

really great first fic btw, hope there will be a sequel!

sure things! hopefully i can write the next one after thiss :>

[moevv]

[elrogee]

Was that your 1st story? It was really good

Thank you! It was my first ever story.

[smutgivernew]

Impregnating Iroha

Her father's car stopped in front of the house she had last visited years ago, visiting her uncle with her family when she was 10. Iroha's mother had still been alive back then, and she was sad not to remember a lot from that time. Now she had just finished high school and was waiting for her college applications to be processed, so she could hopefully get into one of her dream schools. Iroha wanted to study English Literature and become a teacher, as she was passionate about working with children and teaching them the joy of reading and writing.

But in the months until she went to college she would have to live with her uncle Dennis as her father and his new wife wanted to go travelling and didn't want to leave her home alone for three months. Iroha would actually have preferred that, but her opinion hadn't been taken into consideration so now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with her uncle whom she knew almost nothing about.

Her dad John helped her get all of her bags from the trunk of the car and walked up the faded porch to the front door with her. Whilst Iroha's relationship to her dad had been loving and caring when her mom was still alive, it had grown a lot colder since her death. Especially since his marriage to Iroha's stepmom Michelle, who was only 9 years older than Iroha was now, she felt like she didn't quite belong in her own family anymore.

Now they just exchanged a quick goodbye once her dad had thanked his brother again for taking care of this for him, and she felt like there was a silent conversation happening between the two that she couldn't make sense of.

Only when her dad had gone back to his car and driven away did Dennis actually acknowledge her. Instead of shaking her hand, which she offered to him he leant in to hug her close to him. He was a tall man, towering over Iroha's short 5'2" by at least a foot as he pressed her petite form against his muscular one. That did make Iroha slightly uncomfortable, after all she hadn't seen him in years and they had never been close. However she didn't say anything and thought that when she would live with him for months, she probably had to be okay being hugged by him.

"Been a while since I last saw you, sweetheart. You've grown up into such a beauty!" he said, smiling in a friendly way but his gaze kept moving to her chest. Iroha knew she was pretty, she had been on the cheerleading squad in high school giving her a toned body and her dark eyes and chestnut curls caught a lot of men's eyes. Her C-cup breasts were a nice size on her small form and her rather big perky butt had been the topic of imagination for a lot of her male classmates, not that she knew of that of course.

"Ummh, thanks. Where should I put my stuff?" She looked down at her feet as she said this, uncomfortable with both the situation of moving in with him and with his penetrating gaze on her.

"I'll take you up to the bedroom. Just follow me." He turned around and strode down a hallway and up a flight of stairs, before opening the door furthest down the corridor. Iroha had time to ponder him on the way. Her uncle was 37 years old, she knew that from the yearly birthday cards her family sent him and in good shape as far as she could see. He was serious and hardworking from what she remembered from her childhood, not one to make jokes or really talk all that much but she didn't remember him as ever being unpleasant to be around. Then why was he making her so uncomfortable now?

Trying to shake the uneasy feeling she had, she stepped through the door her uncle had opened which closed behind them with a click. The room was not what she had expected at all. It wasn't the size of it, the furniture within or even the decor that was odd, it was how lived in it obviously looked. There was men's clothing on the back of an armchair and a pair of boxers on the ground in front of the bed, the bed itself had apparently been made in a hurry as the sheets weren't even and the pillows looked to have been haphazardly thrown on top.

Iroha turned around to look at her uncle.

"You must have taken me to the wrong room, clearly someone lives here!" She made to move past him towards the door, but Dennis stopped her by grabbing her around shoulder and pulling her body close to his.

"No, my dear, I did not take you to the wrong room. You are right that someone lives here, I do actually, but I never said that you would get your own room." He smiled at her, a smile that was meant to calm her, tell her that everything was alright but Iroha felt a little afraid now.

"I can't stay in the same room with you! There must be another place for me to sleep, I'll stay on the sofa if there's no alternative but I won't share a bed with you." Iroha tried to pull away from him, to get out of his grip but his hand only gripped her shoulder more tightly whilst his other arm snaked around her waist, moving uncomfortably close to her ass over her short dress. It was a warm summer's day and Iroha had wanted to take advantage of not having to follow a school dress code anymore, but now she regretted wearing the short light blue dress today.

"Oh yes, you can and you will, just like you'll do anything else I ask you to do. And right now I want you to take that cute little dress of so I can get you in my bed and fuck your sweet little pussy." He expected her beginning to struggle in earnest and held her arms to her sides by clamping one of his larger muscular arms around her whilst his other hand began pulling her dress up inch by inch.

Iroha was trying hard to break free from his grasp, she managed to hit his thigh painfully as she tried to knee his groin but he managed to get her dress up to right below her breasts without letting her get away. All the while Iroha was crying out for him to stop, to leave her alone.

"You can't do this to me! No! Stop, I'm your niece, you can't do this! Uncle Dennis! I don't want this, let me go! No!" She was crying by now, tears streaming down her face as her uncle ripped the dress off her, leaving her standing in only a black bralette and panty set. She felt more exposed than ever before in her life. Iroha was a virgin, she had only ever kissed and touched a guy above his clothes, now her uncle was forcing himself upon her and she was in his house, locked in a room with him with no one around for miles. She could feel his erection pressing into her naked belly through his jeans as his hands moved to the clasp of her bralette on her back.

"Oh sweet girl, I can do anything I want to you now. I even have your dad's permission to fuck you and knock you up, although I would have done that either way. So stop fucking whining and accept that from now on you'll spend a lot of time with my cock inside you." With this he managed to open the clasp and pull the flimsy fabric of her bralette off and away from her.

She continued struggling as he pushed her back towards the bed, laying her down on it as he straddled her hips. Iroha's arms were free now, so she tried to punch him in the face but her uncle only laughed and pulled out some tape from the bedside drawer. With this he secured her hands together above her head before attaching them to the headboard. This pushed her breasts out towards him, which he took advantage of by taking the nipple of her left breast into his mouth and sucking on it.

"Aah, I hate you, you need to stop doing this, please! I'm a virgin, I don't want to lose it like this! Please stop this, I won't ever tell anyone if you just stop now, please!" She was noticing quickly that trying to get her hands free was doing nothing, so now she focused on trying to kick him again but with him straddling her it was hard to even move her legs. Iroha felt incredibly afraid lying almost naked on the soft bed with her uncle over her, his mouth on her chest. She couldn't believe that her own dad had actually agreed to letting his brother do this to her. How could he be okay with this?

"If you don't stop complaining, I'll tape your mouth shut too!" Dennis said as he pulled his own T-shirt over his head and threw it somewhere in the room. If Iroha hadn't been so terrified and focused on finding a way out of this situation, she would have noticed that he was quite well-built and not unattractive for a man his age at all.

"No, uncle Dennis, please just stop this now. I won't bother you, I'll find somewhere else to stay just let me go please!" Iroha began sobbing as her uncle shifted his focus from her chest to her panties, which he ripped off her in one quick motion. She was now entirely bare before him and she could see his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. The bulge in his pants looked huge and terrifying to a virgin like her, and she wanted desperately to get as far away as possible from him.

"I told you what would happen if you didn't stop whining. Tape it is then." he said, as he ripped off a piece of tape and placed it over her mouth. She was still trying to plead and beg him to stop, but only muffled noise came out as tears were streaming down her face.

Dennis started unbuttoning his own pants now and pulled them and his boxers off, freeing his rock-hard cock from it's confines. He was a large man and his cock matched his overall stature. 9 inches long and as thick as Iroha's wrists, it made a new wave of tears flow down her cheeks and her muffled protests got louder.

Her uncle however just ignored her pleas and spread her legs forcefully to get a good look at her pussy. She was waxed bare, not liking the hassle of constant shaving or the look and feel of hair growing down there. Dennis groaned at the sight of her tight opening, it looked impossibly tiny next to his huge cock and he couldn't wait to sheath himself inside her.

She was definitely not aroused however, so he would have to work for a while to get her wet enough to get his monster into her virgin cunt. Ignoring her muffled protests, he started rubbing above her opening, looking for her little pleasure bud. Once he had found her clit as shown by the involuntary bucking of her hips, he applied more and more pressure to it, forcing her towards an orgasm she did not want to experience. Iroha was gasping and panting, trying to resist giving in to the tightening coil in her loins but she couldn't help unravelling when he pressed hard on her clit whilst pinching one of her nipples with the other hand. She wasn't one to masturbate regularly and so this orgasm really hit her with it's intensity, making her almost forget where and with whom she was right now, it was so good.

Finding her sufficiently wet after her orgasm, Iroha's uncle positioned himself at her entrance and began pushing into her tight pussy. His thick cockhead stretched her opening as he forcefully pressed into her. Iroha was protesting against the tape over her mouth at the intrusion and the pain of being stretched so much, and yet only the head of his long rod was actually inside her yet. She also knew that he had not put on a condom and whilst she hadn't thought about what he had said about knocking her up before, only thinking about how she could get him away from her, she knew it was a realistic possibility that he could actually impregnate her.

All of her thoughts came to a halt as she felt Dennis push further into her until he reached a barrier, her hymen. This was it, she wouldn't be a virgin anymore after this. If she had known that this is what it would come to, she would have slept with one of the guys from school, anything to avoid this being her first time. It felt like he was tearing her apart with his thick cock as he pulled back only a little, before thrusting back and tearing through her hymen. If she hadn't already cried all of her tears, she would have burst into them all over again.

Dennis' cock still wasn't fully inside her as he began thrusting at a slow rhythm, trying to embed more and more of his manhood in her with every thrust. She felt so tiny underneath him, her small frame dwarfed by him and he loved the feeling of his cock stretching her insides. He could almost see her belly bulge whenever he pushed himself deep inside her, nudging her cervix even though there was still an inch that he hadn't managed to get into her. She was unbelievably tight and knowing that she was his now, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted however he wanted almost made him come right then.

But he wanted to drag it out a little more, so he pulled out of her for now. The look of hope that this was it in her tear-rimmed eyes quickly was replaced by fear as he turned her around so she was on her knees in front of him, her tits pressed into the mattress and the tape attaching her wrists to the bed frame tightening from being twisted.

Then he pushed his cock back into her pussy and began really fucking her with quick, hard thrusts that sent Iroha's tits bouncing and had her gasping in pain every time his thick cockhead would forcefully push against her cervix.

Dennis loved watching his huge cock stretching her pussy to the limits everytime he pushed it into her. There was nothing better to him than fucking a tight little cunt, and his sweet 18-year-old niece felt like heaven as he pounded into her. He was close to cumming, but wanted to feel her pussy clenching around him in orgasm as he came, so he reached one of his hands down around her to rub her clit.

Iroha hated that it actually started to feel good when he rubbed her clit. The pain was bearable now and with the change in positions he actually hit a pleasurable spot deep inside her that she hadn't even known existed. She still hated how he was forcing her into this so much, but her body still responded to his ministrations the same as if this had been a voluntary experience.

She screamed, loud even through the tape on her mouth as she came in a haze of pleasure and pain. Her pussy clamped down around Dennis' cock pushing him into his release too. He held himself deep inside her as he shot jet after jet of hot cum right against the entrance to her womb, grunting and groaning in pleasure all the while. Naturally her body reacted to his hot cum shooting inside her by drawing out her orgasm, pulling the cum deeper inside her every time her pussy contracted. This orgasm felt even better than the first, leaving her in a blissful state of pleasure for almost a minute.

Once she came down from her high, Iroha started feeling the aftermath of what had happened. She felt a weird warmth inside her where her uncle's cum was still lodged deeply by his now flaccid member, only a small amount dripping out. The reality of the situation hit her; he might have gotten her pregnant. Iroha wasn't on any birth control, she hadn't planned on having sex with anyone and would have used a condom once the moment arose. How long ago had her period been? She counted the days in her head. Six days since her period ended and she had actually had her period for five days…

She started crying again as she realised that although it wasn't her most fertile day, it was definitely a highly dangerous one. Iroha couldn't have a baby now, she wanted to start college in a few months, meet someone, fall in love for the first time. But now she might not have any of that, if her uncle asserted his will and actually got her pregnant. Even if it didn't happen right now, he wouldn't let her get away that easily and there was nobody around who she could run to. 'At least I like kids', a small voice in her mind said, 'and he made me orgasm twice, that's something.'

Dennis finally got out of his pleasure-induced haze and started pulling his now soft cock out of Iroha's cum-filled cunt. It filled him with a sick sense of pride as he saw his cum start leaking out of her. She was still on her knees with her upper body pressed into the mattress as the tape held her in position. He wouldn't let her move right away, so most of his sperm was stopped from leaking out by gravity.

"You look stunning, sweetheart. On your knees with my cum filling your pussy, this is where you belong from now on." He smiled at her and walked off towards the bathroom, leaving the terrified minor in her position on his bed. Dennis would go back to her after he showered and once she promised she wouldn't fight him again, he'd have her take a nice hot bath and a good hearty meal. And then he would have some more fun with his new personal sex-slave and have another go at breeding her. One day soon she would be pregnant with his child and then he'd have her forever.

Chapter Management Edit Chapter Chapter 2: Iroha's New Life Chapter Text

Seven weeks after moving in with her uncle, Iroha had become somewhat used to her new life, as far as one ever could get used to being an unwilling broodmare for their own uncle. She had pretty much given up on fighting him when it came to sex. She had learnt the hard way that the more she tried to fight him, the rougher the treatment she would get for it.

The first few days had been hell for her. Dennis had been so excited about finally having his beautiful niece all for himself that he hadn't let up on her for more than a couple of hours when she first moved in. During those first few days he'd had her in every position he could think of, and he had loved shooting his cum into her in every single one of them.

He had grown especially fond of making her ride him, as she really had to think about what they were doing and look him in the eyes as he made her basically fuck herself with his cock.

Iroha had tried to avoid thinking about actually fucking her uncle in the beginning, instead imagining herself somewhere else, with someone else, but when Dennis had picked up on that, he had found ways of making her remember at all times that she was with him. Now he constantly reminded her that it was her uncle's cock that was pounding into her, that it was his cum filling her up and his baby that would soon grow inside her. He made her look into his eyes as he came and had started making her ask to be fucked, by playing with her clit with a strong vibrator until she couldn't take another orgasm and asked him to finally take her.

Iroha wasn't quite pregnant yet, her last period had come a little less than three weeks after coming here, but with the pace Dennis had been filling her up with cum, he suspected she would be pregnant very soon. Her next period should have started yesterday and it hadn't begun yet, so he hoped he had already succeeded at knocking her up and just didn't know for certain yet.

That morning Dennis had taken her in his all-time favorite position again, with her on her knees as he roughly fucked her from behind. It made him feel so powerful to have this young beauty on her hands and knees with his cock buried in her to the hilt, completely at his mercy. And it gave him the best angle to continually hit her cervix with every thrust, which he enjoyed immensely. Like music to his ears, Iroha would gasp and groan as he used his hands to make her cum on his cock as he fucked her, while pushing so painfully deeply inside her with every thrust. It also satisfied the primal part of him that just wanted to breed her and make her take his seed, so he could see her swell with his child.

Just imagining her pregnant, her beautiful tits even bigger, her belly growing and her face flushed as she carried around his progeny, he was hard again. He really wanted to take his little toy again right now, and luckily for him he could do so whenever he wanted.

Her uncle found Iroha on the living room sofa, reading a book he had bought her as one of many bribes to try and get her warmed up to him. In time and in conjunction with the hopefully soon aiding pregnancy hormones, he hoped he could get her so used to him that she wouldn't try to leave again and instead accepted her new life as it was. The two times Iroha had tried to get away, his alarm system had warned him early and he had gotten her before she could even leave the front porch. But he had had to punish her for it, spanking her roughly both times, which was something he didn't enjoy. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy making her feel a bit of pain, he just preferred using his cock to cause that as he fucked her instead of spanking her.

"Come here, Iroha.", he told her now in the strict voice he used whenever he gave her a command. She had quickly picked up on the fact that it was in her own interest to obey him straight away. If she took too long to do something he told her to do, or she didn't do it at all, he would be very rough in making her do exactly what he had asked her to.

With trembling fingers Iroha put the book she had been reading away and stood up from the couch, slowly so she could delay the inevitable as long as she could. When she looked at him, she saw that her uncle had already undressed and was standing before her with his cock proudly protruding from his body. She knew what he wanted when he pointed at the ground before him, so Iroha got down on her knees before him and started taking his cock into her mouth immediately. She knew that if she didn't, he would use a ring gag on her and force himself into her mouth, something she had learned the hard way.

Dennis enjoyed letting his niece suck on his cock to get him nice and wet whenever he wanted to fuck her. That way he could skip the foreplay and just make her take his dick, instead of having to wait until he got her sufficiently wet before doing so. That was something he was really looking forward to when he got her pregnant, he had heard a number of times that pregnant women were constantly horny and ready to be fucked. That sounded amazing to him, and he couldn't wait for Iroha to get to that point.

"Take off your dress, then bend over the sofa, baby." The sofa was just slightly too high for Iroha to bend over the back of it without going up on her tiptoes, so she was balancing on them in order to get herself high enough. Dennis enjoyed this position immensely, he needed to lift her up a bit further to get his cock into her tight pussy as she was so much shorter than him, which meant her feet left the floor and she was completely under his control as plowed into her. He quickly pushed his glistening cock into his niece, ignoring her moan of pain as his big cock stretched her open again.

Dennis had been delighted to find out that even after weeks of almost constant fucking, she would still always be nice and tight whenever he wanted to fuck her next, her pussy tightening back up in vain every time, as it would be forcefully stretched again by his big cock only hours later.

Now that he was back inside her, he set a languid pace of deliberate forceful thrusts, for which he would lift Iroha up slightly every time he pulled out and then let her fall back onto his cock, getting himself impossibly deep inside her. He continued like this for a while, revelling in the feeling of being buried balls deep in her warm wet pussy.

Against her will, Iroha's pussy got wet very quickly every time he fucked her now. Her body knew how to fulfill its natural purpose much better than she did, Dennis thought as he continued roughly moving her up and down on his cock.

Iroha was ashamed at feeling herself get closer to orgasm yet again. It seemed that her uncle had figured out exactly how he could make her cum quickly whilst taking her, despite the soreness and pain that she still felt every time.

This was still one of the worst things about being fucked by her uncle, the way her own body betrayed her. But even as she thought that, she felt the delicious pleasure of her coming climax as her pussy started clenching around Dennis' big cock.

He started furiously pistoning in and out of her now, the way Iroha's pussy spasmed around him quickly pushing him over the edge too. As the first shot of cum left his twitching cock, he pushed himself inside her as far as he could and emptied his balls right into her womb, thrusting slightly with every new spurt whilst keeping himself deeply buried.

Now that he was finally done Iroha slumped against the back of the sofa and felt his warm release pool deep inside her, as she was tilted down so it couldn't escape. She didn't have the energy to cry every time he fucked her anymore, as she got so used to being used as his very own fucktoy, that she became a little bit more numb to it every time.

In the beginning she screamed and cried every time, after futilely trying to fight him off beforehand. But now she just did what he commanded her to most of the time and hoped for it to be over soon. Only when he told her to do something especially painful or undignified she fought him, like when he wanted her to ask him to fuck her or to expressly tell him that she liked what he did to her. But even then he would find a way to force her into doing so regardless of how much he fought.

Iroha winced as her uncle finally pulled his now limp cock out of her, the friction irritating her abused pussy as it was still overly sensitive from her last orgasm. A strong hand on her back stopped her from getting back on her feet yet, as Dennis started fondling her soft breasts with his other hand. He alternated between tweaking her nipples and cupping and squeezing her tits, now using both hands to play with Iroha's beautiful chest which made her whimper as he stimulated her sensitive tits. He liked keeping her in a position where his cum couldn't escape for a while after a thorough fuck, so like this he used the time to have some more fun with her.

Only after another ten minutes of playing with Iroha's breasts and later her clit, thus forcing another orgasm from her did Dennis let her stand again and left her as he went back to his office, deeply satisfied from another glorious fuck.

Two days later, Iroha still hadn't started her period. She was terrified about most likely already being pregnant, whereas her uncle was already feeling victorious as he made her take a pregnancy test to confirm what both expected. With trembling fingers holding the blue and white stick, Iroha sat on the side of the bathtub and prayed for it to not show her the result she dreaded. Dennis stood across from her, impatiently twitching his foot as he waited for the confirmation of his achievement. Two stripes appeared after another tense moment, and as Iroha started to sob at the now certainty that her uncle had succeeded at knocking her up. He bent down to pick her up and carried her off to the bedroom, setting her down on their bed before pulling her against him.

He was so hard as he thought about his niece now carrying his child that he couldn't wait to sink his cock back into her right now, but it wouldn't do for her to be crying the entire time and he needed her to calm down for the safety of the child. And for once he wanted her to actually enjoy it as he fucked her, even if it was just this one time.

"Iroha, listen to me."

She looked up at his command, so used to obeying his orders that it now came automatically.

"You are going to stop crying and calm down now. I told you that I would knock you up soon and now that you are pregnant, it doesn't do anything to cry about it. You are going to be so beautiful as your belly grows with our child and everything is going to be perfect. Just lean back and let me relax you."

With that, he pulled her further towards him, so she was leaning with her back against his chest, her legs between his on the bed. She only wore a short dress as he wanted her to during the summer, with nothing underneath so he had easy access. He now used his hands to spread her legs, whilst she was still silently crying as she lay against him, although her breathing had calmed somewhat and she was no longer sobbing loudly. Then he started slowly and tenderly stroking her clit, willing her to only feel pleasure at that moment so she would stop being so terrified and calm down.

This was the first time he really took his time in pleasuring her, without just doing so to get her to either get wet enough for sex or so he could feel her orgasming around his cock. This time it actually was about her, he wanted to calm her down about getting pregnant and also reward her this way for everything she was giving him, albeit against her will. Dennis started whispering words of praise into her ear as his other hand moved up under her dress to play with her breasts, but now he was careful and tender in his actions, wanting her to feel good about what he did. His other hand continued touching her clit as he slowly built up the pleasure.

Without thinking, Iroha felt herself leaning further into her uncle's embrace the longer he touched and praised her. It was getting increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the pleasurable sensations he evoked in her with his touch, so different to how his hands had felt on her before. Even the terror at having another life growing inside her against her will abated slowly as her mind became hazy and she felt herself slowly nearing her climax. This felt so much better than all the times he had forcefully made her cum in order to satisfy his own needs.

When he turned her around to straddle his lap, she didn't even try to stop him and let him kiss her deeply as he continued his ministrations on her clit and her sensitive breasts. He would do so anyway, no matter what she did, so why not just enjoy it and let it happen for once. She also let him take off her dress and move his mouth down to suck one of her hard nipples into his mouth, making her moan loudly at the stimulation.

Soon he had her cumming on his hand as he continued softly stroking her, guiding her through the best orgasm she had ever had. When she was done she slumped against him with her head on his shoulder, her face flushed and her breathing labored.

With her still limply leaning against him, Dennis pulled off the confining fabric of his boxers which his painfully hard cock had been straining against. His cock was weeping with precum and he desperately needed to feel it buried in Iroha's tight wet pussy.

"You were so great, baby, how about I make you feel that again?", he asked her in a much softer voice than he normally used with her. When she nodded with her face still buried in the crook of his neck, he slowly lifted her up and placed her right above his straining cock. He then slowly let her sink down upon it, hearing only a sharp inhale of breath from Iroha once he was buried fully inside her.

Still completely relaxed in her post-orgasmic haze, Iroha was surprised that she barely felt any pain when her uncle's cock entered her body, only the mild ache of her pussy stretching to accommodate him. And when he began rubbing her clit again as well as kissing the skin on her neck and shoulders tenderly, she didn't even protest as he began lifting her up and down on his cock.

After a few minutes of slow, sensual sex Iroha felt herself building up towards another powerful orgasm. She couldn't stop herself from moaning in pleasure now, and that spurred her uncle on to get a little more forceful with his actions. He began really thrusting into her from below as he felt himself speeding towards cumming too. Having his little pregnant niece blissfully moaning as he fucked her made him really enjoy this much slower, less rough sex. And when he finally used both his hands to really bounce her up and down on his cock as he started cumming, he was ecstatic as he felt his niece's pussy rhythmically spasming around him as she too came again.

He knew that once she came back to her senses, she would go back to hating him with every fiber of her being, especially now that she had his baby growing inside her against her will, but she wouldn't be able to forget how he had made her feel right now.

[elrogee]

Private Biology Class

15k word

Tags : student/teacher, age Gap, virginity, breeding, rough sex

Read it also in : Fanprose

The classroom was still buzzing with the usual end-of-day chatter when Leeseo slumped down in her chair with a dramatic sigh, burying her face in her arms.

“I failed again…” she mumbled into her sleeve, voice muffled and pitiful. “Biology is actually going to kill me this time.”

Next to her, Kyujin, her sharp-tongued but kind classmate, let out a bright laugh. “Again? Girl, this is like the third time! What happened this round?”

Leeseo lifted her head, pouting cutely as she pushed her long dark hair behind her ear. “I don’t know… I tried! But between rehearsals, recordings, flights, and fan meetings… my brain just turns into mush when I open the textbook at 2 a.m. in a hotel room.”

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Ah right, Miss Idol is too busy living the glamorous life. Must be nice jetting around the country while the rest of us normal students actually attend class.”

Leeseo whined and lightly smacked her friend’s arm. “Yah! It’s not glamorous at all! I have extra permission from the school because of my schedule, but that doesn’t make studying any easier. I can’t even relate to normal student life anymore. While you guys are chilling at home, I’m practicing until my legs feel like jelly or trying not to fall asleep during meetings.”

She sighed again, deeper this time, resting her chin on her hand. “I feel so behind… I really don’t want to repeat this subject.”

Kyujin’s expression softened. She reached into her bag and pulled out a neatly organized notebook, sliding it across the desk. “Here. My notes for the last two units. I write everything down super detailed because I know you’ll need them later. The latest one is on human reproduction — diagrams, explanations, the whole thing. Super meticulous, even if the topic is kinda… spicy.”

Leeseo’s eyes lit up as she took the notebook. “Kyujin-ah, you’re a lifesaver! Seriously, thank you so much.” She flipped it open curiously, scanning the pages. The handwriting was clean and organized, with colorful tabs and little sticky notes. “Wow… your notes are actually really pretty. And detailed.”

She turned another page and suddenly froze, cheeks turning a soft pink.

The current chapter heading in big bold letters: Human Reproduction – Fertilization, Implantation, and Gestation.

There were detailed diagrams of reproductive organs, step-by-step explanations of the process, and even small illustrations showing sperm meeting egg. Leeseo swallowed, suddenly feeling warm.

“Umm… this is what we’re learning right now?” she asked, voice a little higher than usual.

Kyujin grinned mischievously. “Yep. Mr. Teacher is really going in depth with this unit. Good luck studying that one alone~ Don’t think too hard about the diagrams, okay?” She winked playfully.

Leeseo laughed awkwardly, trying to play it cool even as her mind wandered. “Y-yeah… I’ll just copy these tonight and try to memorize everything. Thanks again, really.”

Kyujin stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “No problem! Good luck with your study session. Text me if you need anything else. And hey — try not to fail again, or you’ll end up having private lessons with the teacher. He’s strict but kinda hot, right?” She giggled and waved. “See you tomorrow!”

“Kyujin!” Leeseo yelped, face burning as her friend left the classroom laughing.

Now alone, Leeseo stared down at the open notebook. The classroom was quiet except for the distant sound of students in the hallway. She tried to focus, copying the notes carefully into her own book, but her eyes kept drifting back to the detailed diagrams and descriptions.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the half-open windows of the third-floor classroom, carrying a gentle breeze that rustled the pages of Leeseo’s notebook. Outside, the lively sounds of school life still continued, groups of students laughing loudly near the sports field, the rhythmic thump of a basketball from the extracurricular club practicing, and distant chatter echoing down the hallways. It felt so normal. So peaceful. Everything Leeseo wished she could experience more often.

She sat alone at her desk near the window, Kyujin’s meticulously organized notebook open in front of her. With a heavy sigh, Leeseo flipped to the next chapter.

Her cheeks instantly warmed. Why does it have to be this unit… of all things?

Kyujin’s notes were frighteningly detailed. Color-coded headings, neat diagrams with tiny handwritten labels, arrows pointing to every part, and even small side notes with mnemonics. Leeseo traced her finger along one of the beautifully drawn illustrations of the female reproductive system.

Wow… Kyujin really went all out, she thought, biting her lower lip. Look at how she labeled everything so clearly — ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, cervix… even the clitoris and vaginal canal. It’s so precise it’s almost embarrassing.

A soft breeze blew in again, cooling her flushed face. She tapped her cheek lightly with both hands, trying to snap herself out of it.

“Okay… I won’t fail again. This time I will succeed,” she whispered firmly to herself. “Fighting, Leeseo!”

But the more she read, the more her mind wandered. Kyujin had written everything in such an intimate, clinical way — describing how the uterus lining thickens in preparation for fertilization, how sperm must travel through the cervix, and the exact process of implantation.

Leeseo stared up at the ceiling, letting out a quiet “Arghhh…” as her face burned hotter. This is too much. How am I supposed to memorize this without feeling weird? It’s so… detailed. The way everything connects, how a man’s… thing… goes inside and…

She shook her head quickly, ponytail swaying, and forced her eyes back to the page. No. Focus. You’re an idol. You memorize choreography and lyrics all the time. This should be easy. Just treat it like another script.

The distant sound of students cheering outside floated in through the window as the basketball game continued. Leeseo tried to concentrate again, reading Kyujin’s neat paragraph about the female reproductive organs out loud in a soft whisper:

“‘The vagina serves as the passageway for menstrual flow, intercourse, and childbirth…’”

She immediately stopped, pressing her thighs together under the desk. Oh my god, why does this sound so…

Still, she kept going. Page after page. Copying diagrams. Repeating definitions under her breath. The breeze kept blowing gently, turning the pages whenever she lifted her hand.

Leeseo flipped the page, moving on to the next chapter.

Male Reproduction System

A small, involuntary giggle escaped her lips as she took in Kyujin’s notes. Her classmate had gone all out again.. Clean, colorful diagrams of the male anatomy, carefully labeled with arrows pointing to every part: testes, epididymis, vas deferens, prostate gland, and of course, the penis in both flaccid and erect states. There were even tiny illustrative pictures that looked almost too realistic for school notes.

“Kyujin-ah… you really drew all of this?” Leeseo whispered with a shy laugh, covering her mouth. The breeze from the window fluttered the pages again, as if teasing her.

But as she kept reading, her laughter slowly faded and her curiosity grew. Kyujin’s explanations were incredibly thorough. She described how blood flow increases during arousal, causing the penis to become erect. How the muscles contract during ejaculation. And then… the numbers.

Leeseo’s eyes widened slightly.

Average sperm count per ejaculation… 200 to 500 million sperm cells? she read silently. And the volume can be…

Her thighs pressed together under the desk again. A warm, fluttery feeling spread through her stomach. She imagined the diagrams coming to life in her mind — the way it gets hard, the way it throbs, the way it can shoot so much…

She quickly shook her head, face burning bright red now. What am I even thinking?! This is so embarrassing…

The classroom was much quieter now. Only the soft rustling of leaves outside and the occasional distant shout from the remaining students on the field remained. The golden afternoon light made everything feel a little warmer, a little more intimate.

Leeseo stared at the detailed cross-section diagram of an erect penis for a few seconds too long before catching herself. She tapped both cheeks with her palms — a little harder this time.

“Okay okay, this is just a biology lesson! Don’t get yourself stupid, dummy!” she muttered under her breath, trying to scold herself into focus. “It’s science. Just science. You need to pass this test. Come on, Leeseo.”

She took a deep breath and continued copying the notes, repeating the key terms quietly to herself.

“Erection… ejaculation… seminal fluid… sperm delivery…”

Every word made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. No matter how hard she tried to stay clinical, her young mind kept wandering into dangerous territory. The diagrams were so detailed. Kyujin had even added small notes about sensitivity and duration.

Leeseo let out another soft “Argh…” and looked up at the ceiling again, fanning her warm face with her hand. The breeze from the window felt nice against her flushed skin, but it wasn’t helping her focus.

Leeseo turned the page again, moving into the section titled “Copulation and Fertilization Process.”

Her eyes scanned the heading, and she immediately felt her whole face heat up like a stove. The diagrams here were even more explicit. Side-by-side illustrations showed the erect penis sliding into the vagina, with detailed cross-sections showing exactly how the vaginal walls stretch and accommodate the thickness. Kyujin had written meticulous notes about natural lubrication — how the body produces slick fluids to make the movement smooth and pleasurable. There were explanations about the dense network of nerve endings in both the clitoris and inside the vaginal canal, how friction creates intense sensations, and how the male penis throbs and pulses during thrusting.

Leeseo’s mouth went dry. She could practically feel the descriptions in her body. A strange, warm, tingly sensation bloomed low in her belly and between her legs. She shifted in her seat again, pressing her thighs tighter together, but it only made the feeling stronger.

Oh my god… she thought, her heart beating faster. How does it actually feel when a guy’s hard thing slides all the way in? Does it really get that wet inside to make it easier? And all those nerves… it says it can feel really, really good…

Her cheeks were burning bright crimson now. She fanned her face with one hand while the other stayed glued to the notebook. The gentle breeze from the window did nothing to cool her down.

A soft, embarrassed giggle slipped out despite herself.

“Kyujin-ah… how did you even study this so detailed?” she whispered with a shy laugh. “You drew the penis going inside and everything… You’re scary.”

But she couldn’t stop reading. The notes went on, describing the rhythmic movement, the way the vagina grips and milks the penis, the building pleasure, and how ejaculation delivers millions of sperm directly toward the cervix. Leeseo’s breathing had grown a little shallower. That curious, fluttery warmth between her legs was getting harder to ignore. She squeezed her thighs again, biting her lower lip hard.

This is just biology… just biology… she kept repeating in her head like a mantra, but her body wasn’t listening. Her imagination kept filling in the blanks with vivid pictures.

She tapped her cheeks again, harder this time. “Okay okay, dummy! Focus! This is science. You’re not supposed to feel weird about it!”

Still, her eyes lingered on one particular diagram — the moment of deep penetration. Her face was now tomato red. The distant sounds of students outside had almost completely faded, leaving only the soft rustling of the wind and the rapid beating of her own heart.

Leeseo flipped to the next few pages, diving deeper into the Copulation and Fertilization subsection. Her eyes widened as she read Kyujin’s incredibly thorough explanation.

The notes described how the erect penis pushes past the vaginal entrance, how the elastic vaginal walls stretch and grip around the thickness, creating friction. It explained why thrusting is necessary — the back-and-forth movement helps stimulate the many sensitive nerve endings while also helping sperm travel deeper. There were even diagrams showing the angle of penetration and how the penis can reach all the way to the cervix during deep thrusting.

Leeseo let out a nervous little giggle, covering her mouth with one hand.

“Wow… this is so detailed. What is this, Kyujin…” she whispered, half laughing, half mortified. “You really wrote all of this? You’re really something else…”

But the more she read, the more her mind started to wander. Her imagination ran wild.

So… this is how babies are made, huh? she thought, cheeks burning hotter than ever. The guy puts it inside the girl… and moves it in and out… and then he ejaculates… all that cum shoots deep inside the vagina…

Her thighs pressed and rubbed together involuntarily under the desk. A warm, slick feeling was starting to form between her legs. She shifted again, trying to ignore it, but the sensation only grew.

And the lube… the vagina gets wet by itself to make it easier for the penis to slide in and out smoothly… Her breathing became a little uneven. Then the sperm swims all the way up to the womb… millions of them… trying to find the egg…

She bit her lower lip hard, eyes glued to the page. The gentle breeze from the window brushed across her flushed skin, but it did nothing to calm the strange heat spreading through her body. Her ponytail swayed as she shook her head lightly, trying to clear the vivid images.

Leeseo you idiot, stop imagining it!

Still, her mind kept going. She pictured the thrusting motion, the fullness, the moment when the man releases everything deep inside… filling the womb.

Another soft, embarrassed giggle slipped out. “Kyujin… you’re going to make me fail even harder with these notes…”

She tapped her cheeks again, a bit desperately this time. “Okay… stay composed. This is just biology. Just science. You can do this. Don’t be stupid.”

But even as she tried to stay focused and copy more notes into her book, her thighs kept pressing together rhythmically. Her heart was beating faster, and that warm, curious ache between her legs refused to go away.

“Aaargh… I can’t concentrate anymore…”

Leeseo let out a long, frustrated sigh and closed Kyujin’s notebook with a soft thump. The classroom had grown noticeably quieter. The cheerful laughter and shouting from the sports field had faded away, replaced by the peaceful silence of an almost-empty school. Only the soft rustling of the evening breeze through the windows remained.

She glanced at the clock. It was later than she thought.

“Time to go home…” she muttered to herself. Quickly, she packed all her books and notebooks into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. Before leaving, she took one last look at the desk where she had been sitting, her cheeks still faintly pink.

Even as she walked out of the school gates and headed home, the thoughts refused to leave her alone. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in soft orange hues. The streets were calm, with only a few students and office workers heading back.

Why can’t I stop thinking about it? Leeseo thought, biting her lip as she walked. It’s just a bunch of notes… just biology. But the way it explained everything — how it goes inside, how it moves, how it feels… Aah stop it, Leeseo! You’re being so weird!

She shook her head multiple times, trying to chase the images away, but they kept coming back. The detailed diagrams. The descriptions of thrusting. The part about ejaculation. Her thighs rubbed together slightly as she walked, and she felt that strange warm flutter again.

“Dummy… it’s just notes,” she whispered to herself, face warm. “Just. Notes.”

When she finally arrived home, Leeseo kicked off her shoes, washed up, and ate dinner with her family like usual. She smiled and chatted normally, but her mind was elsewhere the entire time. After helping clean up, she retreated to her room, closing the door behind her.

She changed into comfortable loungewear — an oversized t-shirt and soft shorts — and sat at her study desk. She tried to focus on other subjects first: math problems, literature reading, history notes. But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept drifting toward Kyujin’s notebook, which was now sitting innocently on the corner of her desk.

Eventually, she gave in and opened it again. The reproduction chapter stared back at her. That familiar warmth returned between her legs.

Why does this keep happening…? she thought, pressing her thighs together under the desk. It’s just science… but my body feels so strange every time I read it.

With a small sigh, she picked up her phone and texted Kyujin.

Leeseo: Kyujin-ah… how do you know all of this?? 😭 your notes are way too detailed lol. i tried studying but my brain is melting help

She sent the message and stared at her phone, waiting, cheeks still tinged with pink. Even now, alone in her room with the soft glow of her desk lamp, she couldn’t fully shake the curious, flustered feeling.

Leeseo’s phone buzzed almost immediately. She quickly opened the chat.

Kyujin: Haha what’s wrong? Too much for you already? 😂 I learned a lot from those thick literature books we have in the library + some reliable references from the internet. You know me, I always write everything super detailed no matter the subject. Helps me remember better.

Leeseo stared at the message and sighed, leaning back in her chair. Of course… that’s just how Kyujin is. Her friend had always been the meticulous type — perfect diagrams, color codes, extra explanations. But this particular topic felt like way too much information.

She typed back.

Leeseo: yeahhh it’s a lot 😵‍💫 the diagrams are so detailed… my brain is overloaded lol

A few seconds later, another message popped up.

Kyujin: Maybe you should browse the internet too about that chapter? There are lots of good explanations and even short videos. Might help you understand it quicker 😉

Leeseo’s eyes widened at the wink emoji. Her face heated up again.

Leeseo: videos?? kyujin!!! 😭 isn’t that… too much??

Kyujin: It’s for studying dummy 😂 Educational stuff only~ You said you need to pass right? Then go learn properly. Good luck tonight~ Don’t stay up too late thinking about “biology” 😉

Leeseo groaned and dropped her phone face-down on the desk, covering her face with both hands.

“Aaahh what is this…” she mumbled. Her heart was beating faster again. The suggestion to search online made her both nervous and strangely curious. She glanced at Kyujin’s notebook still open on her desk, then at her laptop sitting nearby.

The room felt warmer than usual.

She bit her lip, hesitating for a long moment… before slowly reaching for her laptop.

Leeseo stared at her phone for a few more seconds before sighing and grabbing her laptop.

Maybe Kyujin is right… I should just look it up properly. For studying. Yeah. Just studying.

She opened her browser and typed “human reproduction copulation explained” into the search bar. The first few results were normal educational sites. But as she scrolled down, some results became… less educational. Clickbait titles mixed with actual medical sites. Out of curiosity, she clicked on one that looked promising.

It redirected her straight to a porn site.

Leeseo’s eyes widened. Her heart started pounding like crazy. She had never visited a site like this before. The homepage was filled with dozens of hot video thumbnails — half-naked women, explicit positions, close-up shots of bodies connecting. Her face instantly turned bright red.

“W-what the…” she whispered, biting her lip hard.

There were so many thumbnails:

A girl in school uniform bent over a desk

A teacher grabbing a student’s breasts from behind

Close-ups of thick cocks sliding into wet pussies

Creampie shots with cum dripping out

Girls with legs spread wide, moaning faces

The warm feeling between her legs came back stronger than ever. She squeezed her thighs together, but it only made her more aware of the growing wetness in her panties.

This is so wrong… I should close it, she thought. But sheer curiosity won. Her hand trembled slightly as she clicked on one of the videos titled: “After School Private Lesson – Innocent Student Gets Creampied by Teacher”.

She quickly plugged in her earphones.

The video started. A cute girl in a school uniform (looking a bit like a cosplay version of herself) was staying late in an empty classroom with her strict teacher. The acting was cheesy, but the scenes were intense.

Leeseo gasped softly as the teacher started touching the girl — groping her breasts, sliding his hands under her skirt, fingering her until she was moaning.

What the hell… is this really how it happens? Leeseo thought, eyes glued to the screen. Does it actually feel that good?

The girl dropped to her knees and started sucking the teacher’s cock like she was starving for it, looking up at him with teary, lust-filled eyes. Leeseo gulped loudly, imagining the sensation. Then the girl was bent over the desk. The camera zoomed in close as the thick cock pressed against her wet pussy entrance… and slowly slid inside.

“Ahhhn~!” the girl in the video moaned loudly.

Leeseo’s face burned red. She could hear every wet sound, every slap of skin, every desperate moan. The male started thrusting harder, deeper. The girl’s moans became louder and crazier.

Leeseo’s breathing grew heavy. Without realizing it, her thighs started grinding together slowly under the desk. That warm, aching feeling had turned into a full throb between her legs. Her nipples felt stiff against her oversized t-shirt.

It looks so big… how does it fit all the way inside? she wondered, completely mesmerized. And the way she’s moaning… is it really that pleasurable?

She kept watching as the teacher fucked the student harder, the desk creaking, the girl crying out “Sensei~! Harder please!” while her body shook.

Leeseo bit her lip so hard it almost hurt. Her hand unconsciously moved down, resting on her thigh, inches away from touching herself.

She was completely lost in the video now.

As video continues, Leeseo’s breathing was getting heavier. Without thinking, she spread her legs wider under the desk, her soft thighs parting involuntarily. One hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts and into her panties. She was already soaking wet.

“Ah…” she let out a tiny gasp as her fingers brushed against her sensitive folds.

On the screen, the teacher was now fucking the student in missionary position on the desk, her legs wrapped around him. Leeseo copied the movement without realizing it — spreading her legs even more as her fingers started rubbing her clit in slow circles.

With her other hand, she lifted her oversized t-shirt and groped her own perky breast, squeezing it gently, pinching her hardened nipple. The sensation made her whimper softly.

Oh my god… this is so wrong… she thought, eyes glued to the video. But it feels so good… What is this feeling?

Every thrust on the screen made her fingers move faster. She watched the teacher flip the girl into doggy style, pounding her harder, the sound of skin slapping filling her earphones. Leeseo’s soft moans started slipping out, quiet, breathy, and needy.

“Mmmh… haa…”

The video kept going. The couple was clearly approaching climax. The male started thrusting harder, deeper, almost feral. The girl was moaning loudly, her body shaking.

“Yes! Fill me up, Sensei~!” the girl cried out.

Leeseo’s fingers moved faster, rubbing her swollen clit and occasionally dipping inside her tight, dripping entrance. Her hips rocked against her hand as she watched the male bury his cock to the hilt, bottoming out inside the girl. The female character twitched violently as she came, and the male groaned deeply, pumping his load deep into her womb.

Then he slowly pulled out.

The camera zoomed in on the girl’s gaping pussy — pink, swollen, and leaking thick white cum that dripped out obscenely.

That sight broke something in Leeseo.

Her fingers moved frantically now, rubbing herself intensely while her other hand squeezed her breast harder. Her mouth fell open in a soft, shaky moan.

“Haa… ahh… oh my god…”

Her thighs trembled. The image of the creampie, the way the cum leaked out, the way the girl’s body twitched in pleasure.. It was burned into her mind. She was so close. Her whole body felt like it was on fire.

Leeseo’s eyes stayed fixed on the screen, breathing ragged, fingers desperately chasing that unknown peak as the warm, slick sounds of her touching herself filled her quiet room.

Leeseo’s breathing was getting heavier and heavier. Short, desperate gasps filled her quiet room as her fingers moved faster between her legs. Her hips bucked slightly against her hand while her eyes stayed locked on the screen — the way the girl’s pussy was still twitching, cum slowly leaking out.

She was so close. That warm, building pressure was getting stronger and stronger…

Just a little more… just a little…

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Her phone buzzed multiple times on the desk, snapping her out of the trance.

Leeseo jolted hard, yanking her hand out of her shorts. “Haa… haa… ah damn!” she whispered breathlessly, eyes wide with surprise.

Her heart was racing. She looked down at herself — one hand still squeezing her breast, her oversized t-shirt pushed up, and her left breast completely slipped out of her bra, nipple hard and flushed. Her panties were visibly soaked, a wet spot clearly visible on her light-colored shorts.

“I’m so messy…” she muttered, face burning with embarrassment. “What the hell am I doing…? That touch felt so good but… what is this feeling? I feel so weird…”

She quickly pulled her shirt down and fixed her bra, still breathing heavily. Her thighs were trembling, and that aching need between her legs hadn’t gone away. She felt frustrated and guilty at the same time.

With shaky hands, she picked up her phone and opened Kyujin’s messages.

Kyujin: Heyy Don’t watch weird things okay? 😂 Just study properly~ Don’t get distracted 😉

Leeseo stared at the messages for a few seconds, then let out a long, defeated sigh.

“…Too late, Kyujin,” she whispered to herself, cheeks still flushed. “Way too late…”

She closed the porn tab quickly, but the images were already burned into her mind. The creampie. The loud moans. The way the girl looked when she got filled.

Leeseo hugged her knees to her chest, still feeling that warm, sticky wetness in her panties.

What is happening to me…

The next morning, sunlight streamed gently through the classroom windows as Leeseo sat at her usual desk near the back, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of her. The chatter of students around her felt distant. Her mind kept drifting back to last night — the glowing screen, the loud moans in her earphones, the way her fingers had moved between her legs, and that intense, wet, aching feeling she couldn’t forget.

What the hell was I doing…? she thought, cheeks warming again. Touching myself like that while watching those videos… the way that girl got filled… the sounds she made… Why does my body feel so weird every time I remember it? Am I really that perverted…?

Leeseo shook her head quickly, trying to chase the dirty thoughts away. Her ponytail swayed with the motion.

Stop it, Leeseo! You’re an idol. You can’t be thinking about these things at school!

She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the page, but the words blurred together.

Suddenly, someone poked her shoulder from behind.

“HEY! Leeseo~”

“Kyaa!!!” Leeseo jumped in her seat, startled.

Kyujin stood there grinning, bag slung over one shoulder. “Whoa, someone’s so scared today. What were you thinking about so deeply?”

Leeseo forced a smile and laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “N-nothing! Just… reviewing the notes. Yeah.”

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, amused. “So? Was my note helpful? Did you manage to study the reproduction chapter properly last night?”

Leeseo’s face instantly heated up. She giggled awkwardly, a little too high-pitched. “Ahaha… y-yes! It was really helpful. As expected from you, Kyujin! Super detailed and… um… clear.”

Kyujin stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. “What’s with that nervous giggle, Leeseo? You didn’t think about weird things while studying, right?”

Leeseo’s eyes widened. “Wh… what are you saying?! Of course not!” She puffed her cheeks, trying to look confident. “I’m an idol, you know! I wouldn’t do something like that!”

Kyujin smirked, clearly not convinced. “Mhm~ Sure, Miss Idol. Your face is all red though.”

Leeseo covered her cheeks with both hands, groaning internally. Please stop teasing me…

The morning bell rang, saving her from more teasing. But as the teacher — you — walked into the classroom, Leeseo’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at me, as I’m gonna start the lesson in the class

“Good morning, Sir!” they greeted in unison.

I smiled and nodded. “Good morning, everyone. Sit down.”

I started the class as usual, moving on to a new topic — cell division and genetics — instead of continuing the reproduction chapter. I wrote some key points on the board, explaining them calmly while occasionally glancing around the room.

My eyes landed on Leeseo near the window. She was staring at me with a weird, unfocused look — cheeks slightly pink, lips parted, eyes a little glassy. I tilted my head slightly, wondering what was wrong with her.

Maybe she’s still bothered about failing the last test? I thought. Poor girl has such a packed schedule…

I continued teaching, but Leeseo’s gaze stayed on me the entire time. She wasn’t taking notes like usual. Her mind was clearly somewhere else.

Oh my god… why does he suddenly look… different?

Every time you moved or spoke, Leeseo’s mind flashed back to the video from last night. The teacher in the video had a similar authoritative vibe. The way you stood in front of the class, tall and calm, made her imagine you in that same position — bending a girl over the desk, thrusting deep, filling her up until cum leaked out.

She squeezed her thighs together under the desk, feeling that familiar warmth returning. Stop it, Leeseo! He’s your teacher! This is so wrong…

But she couldn’t help it. In her eyes, you suddenly looked… hotter. More commanding. The memory of the thick cock sliding in and the loud moans kept replaying in her head.

I noticed Leeseo spacing out again. I called her name once.

“Lee Hyungseo?”

No response. She was still staring at me with that strange, distracted expression.

I called again, a bit louder this time.

“Lee Hyungseo? Leeseo?”

Leeseo jolted in her seat the moment she heard her name.

“Ye… yes?!” she answered a little too loudly, voice cracking. “Ah… sorry, Sir!”

The whole class turned to look at her for a second before giggling quietly. Leeseo wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

I looked at her with mild concern, tilting my head slightly. “Are you tired from your activities? You seem a little weird today, Leeseo.”

Her face flushed deeper. She quickly shook her head.

“I… I’m okay, Sir. Sorry…” she mumbled, lowering her gaze to her notebook.

Aaah what the heck am I thinking?! I should be focusing on the class, not… not that kind of thing! He’s my teacher! Stop it, Leeseo, you idiot!

I nodded slowly, still watching her for a moment. “Alright. But if you’re having trouble keeping up, let me know.”

The class continued normally for the rest of the period. You explained the new material, but Leeseo could barely focus. Every time you walked near her row or wrote something on the board, her mind kept drifting back to last night’s video.

Right before the bell rang, I spoke again while looking directly at her.

“Leeseo, after this class, come to the teacher’s room, okay?”

Leeseo’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed nervously and gave a small nod.

“Y-yes, Sir…”

After the bell rang, Leeseo let out a long, heavy sigh. Her heart was still racing. She slowly packed her things and walked toward the teacher’s room, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and that lingering warmth from last night.

She knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.”

Leeseo stepped inside. You were sitting at your desk, going through some papers. She stood there politely, hands clasped in front of her.

I looked up and smiled gently. “Leeseo, about your last test… you failed quite badly. I know your idol schedule is really packed, so I understand it’s difficult. But if you want to fix your mark, I’ll give you a chance.”

You sighed and leaned back in your chair.

“I’ll give you extra classes after school. I’ll help you get through it personally. How does that sound?”

Leeseo’s mind went completely wild the moment you said “extra classes.”

Extra class… just the two of us…? Like in the video…? Will Sir… touch me? Will he bend me over the desk like that teacher did? Will he put it inside me and…

Porn scenes flashed through her head one after another — the thrusting, the moaning, the creampie. Her face grew hot. She pressed her thighs together instinctively.

Stop it! Stop thinking about that! He’s just trying to help you study!

She forced herself to stay composed, bowing slightly.

“Y-yes, Sir. Thank you so much for giving me a chance. I really appreciate it…”

Even as she said that, her eyes had a hint of heat in them when she looked at you. She bit her lower lip without realizing it, her gaze lingering on your broad shoulders and hands for a second too long.

You nodded. “Good. We’ll start soon. You can go now.”

Leeseo bowed again. “Thank you, Sir…” Then she quickly left the teacher’s room.

As soon as she was out in the hallway, she practically ran to the nearest girls’ toilet. She locked herself in one of the stalls, sat down on the toilet seat, and hugged her knees.

Her breathing was heavy again.

“Haa… haa…”

That same heat from last night came rushing back, even stronger. Her panties were getting wet again just from thinking about the private lessons with you.

She bit her lip hard, thighs rubbing together.

What is wrong with me… Why does my body keep reacting like this…?

Inside the locked toilet stall, Leeseo’s mind was spiraling.

She sat on the toilet seat and slowly spread her legs apart. With trembling hands, she flipped her pleated skirt up onto her waist, exposing her smooth thighs and the cute pink panties underneath.

“Ah…” she breathed shakily.

Her right hand moved between her legs, pressing against her pussy through the thin fabric. She started rubbing slow circles over her clit, feeling how warm and wet she already was.

“Mmmh… ah… I need this… I need this…” she whispered softly, voice barely audible.

Her fingers moved faster. The pink panties quickly became soaked, the fabric turning darker and clinging to her folds. The wet patch grew bigger with every circle.

She couldn’t stop herself anymore.

With her left hand, she quickly unbuttoned the top few buttons of her uniform blouse, loosened her tie, and pulled her bra up. Her right breast spilled out — quite sizable and perky for her age, nipple already stiff. She groped it firmly, squeezing and pinching the sensitive bud while her right hand kept rubbing her pussy harder.

“Haa… haa… ahh…”

Mixed feelings flooded her head, like a huge wave crashing inside her. Arousal were so strong it made her dizzy. She also confused... Why does my body feel like this? Guilty feeling… I’m an idol… I shouldn’t be doing this in school… Fear, What if someone hears me? What if someone walks into the toilet?

But the risk only made her wetter.

Her mind drifted back to the porn video again. She imagined you, her teacher, instead of the actor in the video. You bending her over the desk, sliding your thick cock into her tight pussy, thrusting deep while calling her a naughty student.

“Ahh… Sir…” she moaned quietly under her breath, fingers pressing harder against her soaked panties. Her hips rocked forward, grinding against her own hand.

She pinched her nipple harder, imagining it was your hand groping her breast while you fucked her senseless in the empty classroom.

The pleasure kept building. Her soft moans echoed lightly in the stall as she kept desperately touching herself, completely lost in forbidden fantasies.

Leeseo couldn’t hold back anymore.

With shaky fingers, she slid her soaked pink panties to the side, finally touching her bare, dripping pussy directly. The moment her fingers made contact with her slick, sensitive folds, she let out a soft, trembling moan.

“Ahh…”

She started circling her clit faster, the wet sounds of her arousal clearly audible in the small stall. Her breath grew heavier and heavier, chest rising and falling quickly.

In her mind, she was no longer in the toilet stall.

She was bent over her classroom desk, skirt flipped up, while you, her teacher stood behind her, thick cock sliding deep inside her tight little pussy.

Her fingers moved lower. She pushed two of them shallowly inside herself, feeling her walls clench around them.

“Ah…aaah.. haaa… haaa…” she moaned softly, trying to keep her voice down.

“I’m such a naughty idol… and student…” she whispered breathlessly. “I need this so much…”

Her right nipple was fully erect, hard and sensitive. She pinched and rolled it between her fingers while her other hand kept fingering herself. She bit her lip hard, eyes fluttering as she gazed up at the ceiling of the stall.

The pleasure kept building higher and higher. That warm, coiling pressure inside her belly was getting stronger, almost overwhelming.

This is so wrong… I shouldn’t be doing this in school… she thought, guilt flashing through her mind for a second.

But the heat was too strong. It completely corroded her thoughts. The images of you railing her, filling her up, and pumping her full of cum kept flooding her brain.

She whispered desperately, voice shaky and needy:

“I need something… I need something inside me… What is it gonna feel like…? Aah…”

Her fingers moved faster, pushing a little deeper. Her hips rocked against her hand as she chased that unknown peak, lost in lust and forbidden fantasy.

Her soft, suppressed moans echoed quietly in the stall as she edged closer and closer.

Leeseo kept desperately playing with herself.

Her fingers moved faster between her legs, rubbing her swollen clit and dipping shallowly into her dripping entrance. Her other hand kneaded and pinched her right breast, rolling the stiff nipple between her fingers. She bit her lip hard, eyes squeezed shut, trying her best to hold back her moans.

But her mind was completely drowned in fantasy.

She imagined you fucking her hard on the classroom desk — your thick cock stretching her, pounding deep, calling her your naughty little student while you filled her up.

“Yes… yes… yes…” she whispered shakily, almost begging. “Please do it… please…”

The tension inside her kept building higher and higher. A strange, powerful pressure grew from deep in her pussy, spreading through her whole body like electricity.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open.

No no no… not here… not in school…!

But it was too late.

Her hand refused to stop. Her body betrayed her completely.

Suddenly, the wave crashed over her.

“!!!!”

Leeseo’s whole body twitched violently. Her back arched, thighs shaking uncontrollably as her first-ever orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clenched hard around her fingers, flooding with wetness. Waves of intense pleasure surged through every inch of her body, making her tremble and spasm on the toilet seat.

She pressed her mouth against her arm, desperately trying to muffle the moans that wanted to escape. Small, broken whimpers still slipped out as her body kept twitching with aftershocks.

“Haa… haa… haa…”

When it finally started to fade, Leeseo slumped back against the toilet wall, breathing heavily, eyes glassy and unfocused.

What… what is this feeling…? she thought, still trembling. This is so good… so intense…

Her panties were completely soaked. Her fingers were shiny with her juices. Her right breast was still out, nipple red from how much she had played with it.

She sat there for a long moment, trying to catch her breath, mind spinning.

Oh my god… I just came… in the school toilet… thinking about my teacher…

Leeseo stayed slumped on the toilet seat for a while, completely dazed.

Her chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. Her legs were still spread wide, skirt flipped up messily onto her waist, and her soaked pink panties pushed to the side. Her right breast was still exposed, nipple glistening slightly from her own touch. Her hand hung limply at her side, fingers shiny with her juices.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, mouth slightly open, still gasping softly.

“Haah… haah…”

Then the guilt hit her like a truck.

Her eyes widened in shock as reality came crashing down.

Oh my god… what did I just do?!

She panicked and quickly sat up straight. Her hands fumbled desperately as she pulled her bra back down, buttoned up her uniform with shaky fingers, and straightened her tie. She fixed her skirt, then grabbed some toilet paper to wipe the mess between her legs. Her panties were still uncomfortably wet, clinging to her sensitive folds.

Why… why did I do that? she thought, face burning with shame. I’m an idol… I’m supposed to be a good student… but I touched myself in school… thinking about my teacher fucking me…

She cursed herself silently.

This is so wrong… so so wrong…

But even as the guilt flooded her, another feeling lingered — that deep, satisfying pleasure still echoed in her body. The afterglow made her thighs tremble slightly.

…But it felt so good, she admitted to herself, biting her lip. Really, really good… I’ve never felt anything like that before.

She sat there for another minute, conflicted. Part of her felt dirty and ashamed…

…while another part already wondered when she could feel that pleasure again.

Leeseo took a deep breath, fixed her hair in the small mirror inside the stall, and tried to look normal before stepping out.

Leeseo took one last deep breath, fixed her skirt one more time, and stepped out of the girls’ toilet.

The moment she walked out, she froze.

You were standing right there — leaning casually against the window ledge just a few steps away, arms crossed, smiling at her.

Leeseo’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

“Leeseo,” I said with a gentle smile, tilting my head. “Why did you take so long in the toilet? Are you feeling, okay?”

She could feel her face burning instantly. Her legs felt weak.

“I—I… I had a stomachache, Sir…” she answered quickly, trying to sound normal. “It’s nothing serious. Sorry for taking too long…”

But she looked different. Her cheeks were still flushed, her breathing hadn’t fully calmed down, and her eyes couldn’t meet yours properly.

I kept smiling, but my gaze slowly drifted down.

There was a small, suspicious wet patch on the front of her pleated skirt. And on her inner thighs… a thin, shiny trail of clear fluid was slowly trickling down her smooth skin.

My eyes lingered there for a second before returning to her face. My smile didn’t fade, but it gained a slightly knowing edge.

“Stomachache, huh?” I said softly, voice calm but carrying a hint of something else. “You sure that’s all it was?”

Leeseo’s mind went blank. She instinctively pressed her thighs together, but it was too late.. you had already seen it.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Y-yes, Sir… I’m fine…”

But her body betrayed her again — a fresh wave of heat rushing through her as she stood in front of you, panties still soaked, the evidence of what she just did literally dripping down her thighs.

I took a small step closer, still smiling, but my voice dropped lower.

“Leeseo… I heard some sounds coming from inside the toilet,” I said calmly, eyes locked on hers. “They sounded… different. Not exactly like someone who just has a stomachache.”

I smirked slightly, tilting my head.

“What were you doing in there, Leeseo? You sure you only had a stomachache?”

Leeseo’s face turned pale, then bright red in an instant. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find words.

“I… I-I really had a stomachache, Sir! It was really bad so I… I had to… um… make some sounds to… to feel better! Yes! That’s it!”

Her excuse sounded ridiculous even to herself. Her voice was shaky, and she couldn’t stop fidgeting, pressing her thighs together nervously. The wet patch on her skirt and the glistening trail on her inner thigh became even more obvious up close.

I leaned in a little closer, voice dropping into a low whisper so only she could hear:

“…What about ‘Yes… yes… yes… please do it… please…’?” I paused, watching her reaction closely. “And ‘I need something inside me…’?”

Leeseo felt like she had been struck by lightning.

Her whole body went cold, then burning hot. Her knees almost buckled. The realization that you had heard everything — her moans, her dirty whispers, her desperate begging — crashed over her like a wave.

Her eyes widened in pure panic. She looked up at you, completely frozen, lips trembling.

“Sir… I… I didn’t…” she tried to speak, but no proper words came out. Her mind went blank. Shame, fear, and a strange new wave of arousal mixed together inside her.

She stood there in front of you, panties soaked, thighs slightly wet, completely exposed and caught.

I chuckled softly, stepping just a little closer so my voice stayed low and intimate.

“Does the reproduction biology subject… hit something inside you, Leeseo?” I asked, smirking. “Are you fantasizing about it? Wow… I didn’t expect you to go that far.”

I glanced down at the obvious wet spot on her skirt and the glistening trail on her inner thighs before looking back at her flushed face.

“It was just a cross-section diagram and some text… and yet your mind drifted that far away from it,” I grinned, clearly amused. “Are you really the maknae of a top idol group like IVE? Doing something like this in the school toilet… moaning and begging like that?”

Leeseo’s gaze dropped straight to the floor. She couldn’t look at you anymore. Her lips were bitten hard, cheeks burning with deep shame and embarrassment. Her hands gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, trying to hide the wet patch, but it was useless.

She wanted to disappear.

He knows… He heard everything… He knows I was touching myself while thinking about…

Her mind was spiraling. She felt so small, so exposed, and yet… a dark, twisted part of her felt strangely thrilled that you — her teacher — had caught her like this.

Leeseo stayed silent, biting her lip harder, eyes glued to the floor, too mortified to speak.

I looked at her for a moment, still smirking, then spoke softly but firmly.

“Follow me, Leeseo. We’re doing your private lesson right now.”

Leeseo nodded weakly, still unable to look you in the eyes. She followed you quietly down the hallway, head lowered, cheeks burning. Her steps were small and hesitant.

As we walked, she whispered barely loud enough for you to hear:

“…I was thinking about it so much, Sir… I couldn’t stop…”

I didn’t reply, but my smirk widened.

We reached her classroom. It was completely empty — all the other students had already gone home. I closed the door behind us with a soft click, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Leeseo walked slowly to her usual desk near the window and stood there, still looking down at the floor. I followed right behind her, stopping close enough that she could feel my presence.

I leaned in and whispered near her ear:

“You’re already so wet, Leeseo… You’re lucky no one noticed that your skirt is soaked from your panties.”

My eyes drifted down.

“And your uniform collar is messy… some buttons are missing too.”

Leeseo’s breath hitched. She instinctively touched her collar, realizing how disheveled she looked after what she did in the toilet. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought you could hear it..

I stood behind Leeseo, close enough that she could feel the warmth of my body. The empty classroom was completely silent except for her nervous breathing.

“Since you’re having trouble with the reproduction chapter,” I said calmly, voice low, “let’s start with something basic… but important.”

I leaned closer to her ear.

“You know… female breasts are very sensitive to touch.”

Leeseo’s breath hitched. I continued explaining in a soft, clinical tone, like a real lesson:

“When breasts are touched, especially the nipples, it sends strong signals through the nerve endings. Blood flow increases… the skin becomes more sensitive… and it can make a girl feel heat all over her body. Some girls even get wet just from their breasts being played with.”

As I spoke, Leeseo’s hands moved almost involuntarily. She loosened her tie and slowly unbuttoned the top few buttons of her uniform again, revealing her cleavage.

I smirked, looking over her shoulder at her chest.

Her breasts were quite sizable and beautifully perky for her age — round, firm, and sitting high on her chest.

I whispered right next to her ear:

“You want me to play with them, huh?”

Leeseo hesitated for a second… then nodded slowly, shyly.

My hands moved from behind her. I slid them under her open uniform, pulled her bra up, and cupped her bare breasts directly. They filled my hands perfectly — soft yet firm, warm, and incredibly perky.

Leeseo let out a slow, shaky moan the moment my hands made contact.

“Ahh…”

It was the first time a man’s hands had ever touched her breasts. The difference was immediate — my hands were bigger, warmer, and more confident than her own. She could feel every finger as I slowly groped and squeezed them.

Her breath hitched hard.

I kept massaging her breasts gently while whispering explanations:

“Look how well your body has grown these… They’re so perky and well-shaped. The nipples are already this hard just from light touching… That means they’re very sensitive right now. This is completely normal during your age. It shows your body is healthy and responsive…”

I teased her nipples with my thumbs, rolling them slowly, pinching them lightly. Leeseo’s knees trembled. Another soft moan escaped her lips as she leaned back slightly against me.

I continued the “lesson” in a low voice, praising her while playing with her chest:

“Such nice size too… not too big, not too small. Perfectly perky. They look beautiful when you’re breathing like this…”

Leeseo was breathing heavily now, completely lost in the sensation of her teacher’s hands on her bare breasts in the middle of the empty classroom.

I gave her breasts one final gentle squeeze before pulling my hands back.

“Sit on your desk, Leeseo,” I said softly but firmly.

Leeseo hopped up without thinking. Her legs parted automatically. When I flipped her skirt up, the sights struck me really hard, her pink panties were completely soaked, the fabric dark and sticky, clinging to her swollen folds. A shiny trail of arousal had already dripped down her inner thighs.

I stepped between her spread thighs and flipped her pleated skirt all the way up to her waist.

I let out a low impressed sound.

“Wow… you’re really wet, Leeseo.”

Her pink panties were completely drenched, the fabric dark and clinging tightly to her swollen folds. A shiny trail of her arousal had even leaked onto her inner thighs.

Leeseo’s face burned with shame, and she instinctively tried to close her legs and cover herself with her hands.

I smiled gently and held her thighs open.

“Don’t worry. No need to be shy. It’s completely normal to get this wet.”

I started tracing slow circles over her soaked panties with my fingers, gently rubbing her sensitive folds through the thin fabric.

“See this?” I explained in a calm, teacher-like tone. “When I played with your breasts, it activated a lot of nerves. The nerves in your breasts and your pussy are connected through your nervous system. That’s why breast stimulation can make you this wet down here. Your body is preparing itself for mating… for penetration.”

Leeseo’s breath was shaky as my fingers kept circling, pressing lightly against her clit and sliding along her slit.

“There are thousands of nerve endings right here,” I continued, rubbing a little firmer. “Especially around your clit and entrance. That’s why it feels so intense when someone touches you here. Your body is very sensitive right now… and very honest.”

Leeseo let out a soft whimper, her hips twitching slightly against my fingers. She was soaking even more, the wet sounds becoming audible every time my fingers moved.

I kept rubbing her slowly over her panties, eyes locked on her flushed face.

“Does it feel good when I touch you here, Leeseo?”

Leeseo’s voice came out shaky and breathless.

“Y-yes… it feels good, Sir… It feels really good…”

I smirked, clearly satisfied.

“Good girl.”

I finally pulled the panties aside, her pussy was fully exposed — smooth, puffy, shiny with juices. The entrance was small and tight, already fluttering. I dragged two fingers along her slit and they came away coated in clear, sticky wetness.

I let out a low appreciative sound.

“Look at this… such a pretty, tight pink pussy. Completely smooth, no hair at all. So cute and neat for a maknae.”

My fingers gently trailed along her slick folds, coating them with her juices. Leeseo shivered and let out a soft moan.

I started explaining in detail while touching her:

“This is your outer labia… and these are your inner labia,” I said, gently spreading her folds open with my fingers. “See how wet and glistening they are? That’s your body’s natural lube.”

I slid one finger slowly up and down her slit.

“And this little swollen bump right here…” I circled her clit, “is your clitoris. It has the most nerve endings. That’s why it feels so intense when I touch it.”

Leeseo moaned softly, her hips twitching every time my finger passed over her clit.

I spread her labia wider with two fingers, exposing her tight entrance.

“This is your vaginal opening. It’s so small and tight right now… but it can stretch nicely when properly aroused. This is where a man’s cock goes in… and where he can fill you up.”

Leeseo’s breathing was ragged. Soft, needy moans kept slipping out as I kept touching and explaining every sensitive part of her pussy in detail.

I gently circled her entrance with one finger, teasing it but not pushing in yet.

“Every part of you is so sensitive, Leeseo. Your body is reacting so honestly… getting wetter the more I teach you.”

She was trembling on the desk, legs spread wide, uniform messy, eyes hazy with pleasure as her teacher continued the very hands-on biology lesson.

I kept teasing her slick entrance with my fingertip for a moment longer before slowly pushing two fingers inside her.

Leeseo’s eyes widened and a soft, broken moan escaped her lips.

“Ahh…!”

My fingers were warm and thick as they slowly sank into her tight, wet pussy. Her walls immediately clenched around them, hot and silky.

“Relax… breathe,” I whispered, pushing deeper until my fingers were buried inside her.

I started moving them slowly, stroking her inner vaginal walls.

“These are your vaginal walls,” I explained calmly while fingering her. “They’re full of sensitive nerves. When they’re touched like this… especially when stretched… it creates a lot of pleasure.”

Leeseo moaned softly, nodding weakly.

“Y-yes… it feels good inside… Sir…”

I curled my fingers upward, searching for that special spot. When I found it, Leeseo’s whole body jerked.

“AHH!!”

Her eyes widened in shock as intense pleasure shot through her.

I smirked and pressed against it again, rubbing it slowly.

“That’s your G-spot,” I explained, still fingering her steadily. “It’s a very special pleasure point inside you. When it’s stimulated properly… it can make a girl feel crazy good. Some girls even squirt from it.”

I kept curling and rubbing that spot while my thumb circled her clit at the same time.

Leeseo’s moans grew louder and more desperate. Her tight pussy kept clenching around my fingers, getting wetter with every stroke.

“You’re so tight, Leeseo… Your pussy is gripping my fingers so nicely. Such a good, sensitive girl.”

She was trembling on the desk, legs spread wide, breathing heavily as I continued the very thorough, hands-on biology lesson.

I slowly pulled my fingers out of her dripping pussy, making Leeseo whimper at the sudden emptiness.

I looked up at her flushed face and smirked.

“Next part of the lesson…”

I knelt down in front of the desk, positioned myself between her spread legs, and leaned in. Without warning, I dragged my warm tongue slowly up her entire pussy in one long lick. I lowered my mouth to her, the taste hit first — sweet and musky. I licked long and slow from her entrance all the way up to her clit. Her thighs clamped around my head, trembling violently. Every time I sucked on her clit, her hips bucked and more wetness coated my chin.

Leeseo gasped sharply.

“W-wait…, what are you doing? Ahh!”

Her words were cut off by a loud moan as my tongue licked every inch of her soaked folds from her entrance all the way up to her swollen clit. I licked her slowly, thoroughly, savoring her sweet taste.

I pulled back slightly and praised her in a low voice:

“Fuck… your pussy is so beautiful, Leeseo. So pink, so tight, and so wet. Perfect little idol pussy.”

Then I dove back in, licking and sucking on her folds with more hunger. My tongue circled her clit before flicking it directly.

Leeseo’s thighs immediately squeezed around my head, trembling hard. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly as her body jolted with every lick.

“Ahh…! Sir… haa… ahhn—!”

She couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. They spilled out louder and needier as my tongue explored every sensitive part of her pussy. Every pulse, every twitch of her intimate area was met with my warm, wet tongue.

I groaned against her, the vibration making her jolt again.

“So delicious… and so sensitive,” I murmured between licks. “Your pussy is twitching so much. You like teacher’s tongue this much?”

Leeseo’s head fell back, eyes half-lidded, mouth open in continuous soft moans. Her thighs kept squeezing my head tighter as waves of pleasure crashed through her body.

She was completely lost in the feeling of her teacher eating her out on her own classroom desk.

Leeseo’s moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her thighs squeezed my head tighter as her body trembled uncontrollably.

“Sir… I’m feeling it again… I think I’m going to cum again…!” she whimpered, voice shaky.

I smirked against her pussy and kept licking her clit faster, sucking on it gently.

“Then cum for me, Leeseo. Cum on my tongue.”

Her eyes widened in panic.

“Wait… wait… aaahh! Something’s gonna come out— aaahhh!!”

Her back suddenly arched hard off the desk. Her whole body twitched violently as her second orgasm crashed over her — much stronger than the first.

She squirted.

A clear, powerful stream of her juices blasted against my face and mouth. Some of it splashed onto my shirt, soaking the fabric. Her body kept shuddering and jolting as she rode out the intense orgasm, her pussy pulsing and gushing.

When it finally subsided, Leeseo was left gasping, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment.

“Oh my god… I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Sir!” she panicked, voice trembling. “Did I… did I pee on you?! I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean to—!”

I pulled back slightly, my face and shirt wet with her squirt. I laughed softly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Relax, Leeseo,” I said with a gentle smile. “You didn’t pee. That was you squirting. It’s completely normal when a girl feels really good. It means you had a very strong orgasm.”

I stood up, still between her legs, and looked at her with warm eyes.

“You’re amazing, you know that? Not every girl can squirt on her first few times. Your body is really sensitive and honest… I like it a lot.”

Leeseo was still breathing heavily, face completely red, staring at you in a mix of embarrassment, shock, and lingering pleasure.

After watching Leeseo squirt and moan so beautifully, my cock was rock hard and throbbing painfully in my pants.

I stood up straight between her still-spread legs and unzipped my pants. My thick 18cm girthy and veiny shaft sprang free, slapping heavily against my stomach.

Leeseo’s eyes widened in pure shock and horror.

“……..!!”

She stared at it, mouth slightly open. It was much bigger and thicker than anything she had seen in the porn videos — long, heavy, with prominent veins running along the shaft and a fat, swollen head already leaking precum.

I smirked down at her, slowly stroking my cock a few times.

“So… this is the final lesson for you, Leeseo.”

Leeseo swallowed hard, still staring at it. She had only seen a few cocks in the porn she watched last night, and even those were nothing compared to this. Kyujin’s diagram was just a simple drawing — nothing could have prepared her for the real thing.

“T-That thing… is going inside me?” she whispered, voice shaking. “It won’t fit… It’s way too big for me, Sir…”

Her thighs trembled. She looked terrified… but at the same time, her pussy clenched visibly, leaking even more arousal onto the desk. A dark, excited thrill was mixing with her fear.

I stepped closer, rubbing the fat head of my cock against her soaked, sensitive folds, coating it with her juices.

“You said you needed something inside you earlier, didn’t you?” I teased softly. “This is what your body has been craving.”

Leeseo’s breathing was fast and shallow. Her eyes kept flicking between your huge cock and your face, a mix of fear and undeniable arousal written all over her flushed expression.

I grabbed my thick, veiny cock and laid it on top of her crotch, letting her see just how long it was.

The fat shaft rested heavily against her lower belly, the tip reaching far past her navel. Leeseo’s eyes widened even more as she stared down at it.

“See this, Leeseo?” I said calmly. “This is how deep it’s going to go inside you.”

Leeseo bit her lip hard, breathing shakily. The size was intimidating. The cocks she saw in the porn last night looked nothing like this — this one was longer, thicker, and much more real. The veins, the heat, the weight… it made her stomach flutter.

“P… Please be gentle, Sir…” she whispered, voice small and trembling. “It’s my first time…”

I smirked, slowly rubbing my heavy cock along her soaked slit, letting the fat head tease her clit.

“So you’re not worried about your idol life, huh?” I teased, voice low and amused. “IVE’s precious maknae… getting her first time fucked right here on her own classroom desk. Are you really sure about this?”

Leeseo’s mind was a mess.

She thought about her members, her fans, her image… but the overwhelming curiosity and burning arousal in her body drowned everything else out. Her pussy kept twitching, leaking more juices onto my cock.

She bit her lip harder, eyes glassy with lust and nervousness.

I kept rubbing my thick tip up and down her slit — from her clit all the way down to her tight entrance, coating my cock with her wetness. Every time the head nudged against her hole, Leeseo let out a soft, needy moan.

“Ahh… haa…”

Her hips moved slightly on their own, chasing the feeling of my cock rubbing against her.

I leaned down closer, whispering hotly against her ear while still teasing her entrance with my tip:

“Tell me again, Leeseo… Do you want me to put it inside you?”

I kept rubbing my thick, veiny cock slowly against her soaked pussy, the fat head teasing her clit and entrance repeatedly. I smirked down at her, eyes dark with lust.

“Say it, Leeseo,” I whispered teasingly. “Say what you were moaning in the toilet earlier.”

Leeseo’s eyes widened. Her face turned bright red, almost crimson. Her eyes became slightly teary from embarrassment as she stared up at you.

She bit her lip hard, body trembling. For a few seconds she stayed silent, too ashamed to speak.

I nudged my cockhead against her tight entrance again, pressing just a little firmer.

“Go on… be honest. What did you say while touching yourself?”

Leeseo’s breath hitched. Her voice came out small, shaky, and extremely embarrassed:

“I… I said… ‘Yes… yes… yes… please do it… please…’” She swallowed hard, voice almost breaking. “And… ‘I need something inside me…’”

The moment the words left her mouth, her face burned even hotter. Tears of shame pricked at the corners of her eyes, but her pussy clenched visibly around nothing, leaking more arousal onto my cock.

I grinned, clearly pleased.

“Good girl,” I praised softly, still rubbing my thick shaft against her dripping folds. “That’s exactly what I’m going to give you.”

Leeseo looked up at you with teary, lust-filled eyes — embarrassed beyond words, but too turned on to stop now.

I kept rubbing my thick, veiny cock up and down her soaked folds, teasing her entrance with the fat head, pushing just slightly in before pulling back again.

“Tell me clearly, Leeseo,” I smirked, voice low and teasing. “What is it that you want?”

Leeseo’s eyes were getting watery. She bit her lip hard, face burning with shame and lust. Her voice came out shaky and desperate:

“C… Cock… I need cock inside me… I need big cock inside my pussy… Please…”

The moment she said those filthy words, I grinned darkly.

“Good girl.”

I positioned the fat head of my cock at her tight entrance and started pushing in slowly.

Leeseo’s eyes widened dramatically.

“W…what is this… AAAAAHH!! It hurts! It hurts… it’s stretching me!!”

Her tight virgin pussy struggled to take my girth. Only the tip was inside and she already felt incredibly full.

I kept doing shallow, gentle thrusts, just working the head in and out.

“Relax… It’s just the tip for now,” I cooed, stroking her thigh soothingly.

I slowly pushed deeper. Leeseo screamed again, her back arching.

“AHHHH!! What is this… this feels so weird!!”

“It’s normal for your first time,” I explained calmly while still pushing in deeper. “Your vagina is being stretched for the first time. It hurts a little now, but it will start feeling better soon.”

I kept going until I felt the resistance of her hymen.

I paused and looked into her teary eyes.

“This is your hymen… the thin barrier inside. Once I push past it, you won’t be a virgin anymore.”

Leeseo was breathing fast, panicked but also incredibly aroused. Her pussy kept clenching around my cock, leaking more juices even as she whimpered from the stretch.

She looked up at you with watery eyes — scared, overwhelmed, but too horny to ask you to stop.

Leeseo’s mind was racing wildly even as her body burned with need.

What am I doing…? I’ve become such a naughty idol… I’m with a guy much older than my classmates… This is so wrong…

But the heat between her legs and the overwhelming arousal drowned out her thoughts. She looked up at you with teary, hazy eyes and nodded weakly.

I smirked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No turning back now.”

I gripped her hips firmly and pushed deeper, breaking through her hymen in one smooth thrust.

“Aaahhh!!” Leeseo cried out, her body writhing on the desk. “It hurts! It hurts…! You’re so big… you’re really inside me…!”

She could feel every inch of my thick cock stretching her virgin pussy wide open. The pain mixed with a strange, deep fullness that made her toes curl.

I groaned deeply, savoring the insane tightness.

“Fuck… this is what it feels like inside you, Leeseo. So tight… so hot… your pussy is gripping me so perfectly.”

I stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, then started giving her slow, shallow thrusts — gently working more of my length inside her.

Leeseo moaned and whimpered with every movement, her hands gripping my arms tightly. The pain was still there, but it was slowly mixing with sparks of pleasure as her walls got used to my girth.

I leaned down and whispered hotly against her ear while continuing the slow thrusts:

“That’s it… take my cock like a good girl. Your pussy is swallowing me so well…”

I kept the pace slow and deep, giving Leeseo long, deliberate thrusts so she could feel every inch of my thick cock stretching and rubbing against her inner walls.

At first she was still writhing from the stretch, but gradually her pained whimpers started turning into soft, needy pleasure moans. She tried to cover her mouth with her hand to muffle them, but it wasn’t working very well.

“F… Fuck… You’re so big… and rubbing inside me…” she moaned shakily, voice breaking.

I smirked, thrusting a little deeper while my hand roamed up to her chest. I pulled her bra higher and groped her perky breast firmly, pinching her nipple as I fucked her.

“That’s right… Your pussy feels so fucking good, Leeseo,” I groaned in dirty praise. “So tight and wet. Squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go. As expected from an idol’s perfect little pussy.”

Leeseo moaned louder despite trying to stay quiet. Her hand was still pressed against her mouth, but her eyes were rolling back slightly from the overwhelming pleasure. Every slow thrust hit deep inside her, rubbing against her sensitive walls and making her body jolt.

I continued groping her breast, playing with her nipple while my cock kept sliding in and out of her at that steady, deep pace.

“Feel that? My cock is stretching you so nicely… Your body is taking me so well. Such a good girl.”

Leeseo’s muffled moans kept spilling out as the pain fully melted into pure pleasure. Her hips started moving slightly to meet my thrusts, her pussy getting even wetter around me.

I started speeding up my thrusts, fucking her harder and deeper. Leeseo’s body rocked back and forth on top of her desk with every powerful stroke, her perky breasts bouncing under her messy uniform.

“Ahh! Ahh! I feel you so deep inside… I feel you so deep inside me…!” she moaned loudly, unable to hold back anymore.

I grinned and slammed in particularly deep, the fat head of my cock kissing her cervix.

“That’s your cervix, Leeseo,” I explained while continuing to thrust. “It’s the entrance to your womb. Every time I hit it like this… it means I’m reaching the deepest part of you. That’s where my cum needs to go if I want to breed you properly.”

Leeseo’s eyes rolled back slightly as I kept pounding that sensitive spot. Her moans turned even more broken and needy.

I smirked down at her, still thrusting steadily.

“Now you’re really enjoying the lesson, aren’t you? Do you understand all of this, Leeseo?”

She could barely form words, but she nodded frantically, tears of overwhelming pleasure in her eyes.

“Y-yes… Sir… I understand… AHH!! It feels so good…!”

Her tight pussy kept clenching around my cock as I fucked her harder on her own classroom desk, the wet sounds of our bodies echoing in the empty room.

I kept thrusting deep into her for a few more strokes, then suddenly slowed down and pulled out of her dripping pussy with a wet sound.

Leeseo whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“Let’s try another position,” I said with a smirk. “One you might like. Come ride me.”

I sat down on her chair, my thick, glistening cock standing straight up, still rock hard and throbbing.

Leeseo got off the desk weakly, her legs wobbling. She looked a bit unsteady, but I reached out and helped steady her hips.

I guided her over me, pulling her closer until the tip of my cock pressed against her soaked entrance again.

“Easy… slide down slowly.”

Leeseo moaned loudly as she lowered herself onto my shaft. Both of her hands gripped my shoulders for support as my thick cock slowly sank back inside her tight pussy.

“Ahh… haa… it’s going in again…”

Once I was fully buried inside her, I held her hips firmly and looked up at her flushed face.

“Go on… move up and down. Ride me, Leeseo. Use your hips.”

Leeseo bit her lip, breathing heavily. Her hands stayed on my shoulders as she started moving, slowly at first, then gradually finding a rhythm, her perky breasts bouncing with every rise and fall.

The new angle made her feel even fuller. Her soft moans filled the classroom as she rode her teacher’s cock on her own chair.

Leeseo’s hips moved awkwardly at first, still getting used to the feeling of being on top. But with every rise and fall, she took more of my thick cock inside her.

I groaned in pleasure, hands gripping her waist firmly to help guide her movements.

“Fuck, that’s it… Ride my cock just like that,” I praised her with a low, husky voice. “Look at you… bouncing on teacher’s dick in your own classroom. Such a naughty little idol.”

I smirked, eyes locked on her cute, flushed face as she rode me.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet. This position is good for you, Leeseo. You can control how deep it goes… and you can grind your clit against me every time you come down. Feel that?”

Leeseo moaned softly, her breathing getting heavier.

“It… it gradually feels good… ahh… Sir…” she whimpered, her hips starting to move a little more confidently even though they were still a bit awkward.

I kept praising her while helping her bounce on my cock.

“Good girl… You’re taking me so well. Your pussy is swallowing every inch. I’m so lucky to have IVE’s cute maknae riding me like this. Look at that pretty face… all red and desperate. So fucking adorable.”

Leeseo’s moans grew sweeter as she found a rhythm she liked. Her hands stayed on my shoulders for balance while her perky breasts bounced right in front of my face.

I kept talking dirty, voice rough with pleasure:

“That’s it, baby. Use my cock to make yourself feel good. You were made for this… such a perfect, tight, breedable little pussy.”

Leeseo’s cute face twisted in pleasure as she rode me, soft moans spilling out nonstop in the empty classroom.

Leeseo kept riding me, her hips slowly becoming more confident. Between her soft moans, she looked at me with a completely red face and whispered breathlessly:

“I… I never had a boyfriend before… and now I’m doing this with you… This feels weirdly so good…”

I smiled warmly at her cute confession, then suddenly pulled her closer.

I crashed my lips against hers in a deep, hungry kiss.

Leeseo’s eyes widened in surprise at first, but they slowly fluttered closed as she started kissing me back. She matched my rhythm, her soft lips moving against mine while her hips kept bouncing on my cock.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathing heavily, Leeseo looked at me with dazed eyes.

“Haa… haa… That was… my first kiss too…” she whispered shyly.

I chuckled and gripped her waist tighter, helping her ride me harder.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

I praised her while thrusting up to meet her movements:

“Your idol training really shaped your body perfectly. Look at how fluid and smooth your hip movements are… So fucking sexy. You’re a natural at this, Leeseo. Your tight little pussy and these pretty hips were made to ride cock.”

Leeseo moaned louder at the praise, her movements getting even better as she rolled her hips, grinding her clit against me with every bounce. Her perky breasts bounced cutely in front of my face as she rode me with increasing eagerness.

Leeseo’s hips started moving faster and faster. She was riding me with more confidence now, her tight pussy sliding up and down my thick cock as her moans grew louder and more desperate.

“Sir… I’m gonna cum soon… I’m gonna cum—!” she whimpered, voice shaking.

I gripped her waist tighter and thrust up to meet her movements.

“Let it out,” I growled. “Let it all out. Cum for me, Leeseo.”

Suddenly her whole body twitched violently.

“AAAAH!!”

Her back arched sharply, pushing her perky breasts forward. Her mouth opened in a perfect “O” shape as her orgasm hit her hard. Her pussy clenched and spasmed around my cock like a vice, squeezing me rhythmically as she came.

I hugged her close, holding her trembling body against me while she rode through her orgasm, still bouncing weakly on my cock.

“Fuck… that’s really tight… So much, Leeseo,” I groaned deeply, feeling her walls milking me. “Good girl… such a good fucking girl.”

Leeseo kept twitching and shuddering in my arms, soft broken moans spilling from her lips as the intense pleasure washed over her. Her juices coated my cock and thighs as she came hard on top of me.

Leeseo gasped for air as her orgasm slowly subsided. She was still sitting on my lap, my cock buried deep inside her, when she suddenly let out a soft, shy giggle.

“It… it feels so good…” she whispered, cheeks still flushed. “I like this… Mmh.”

She looked at you with hazy, sparkling eyes.

“Are you going to teach me other positions too, Sir?”

I smirked, running my hands along her waist.

“Let’s do it from behind then.”

Leeseo slowly lifted herself off my cock with a wet sound, a little wobbly on her legs. I helped turn her around and guided her to bend over her own desk. She gripped the edge tightly, presenting her ass to me.

I groaned in appreciation, spreading her ass cheeks with both hands.

“Fuck… your ass looks so good, Leeseo. Nice and perky, perfectly shaped from all that dancing.”

I spread her wider, admiring the view — her tight pink pussy still dripping, and her cute little butthole right above it.

Leeseo whimpered, face burning with embarrassment.

“S-Stop it… It’s embarrassing…”

I laughed softly and gave her ass a light squeeze.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re perfect. Every part of you.”

I aligned my thick, throbbing cock with her entrance again and pushed back inside her in one smooth thrust.

“Ahh—!” Leeseo moaned loudly as I filled her up from behind, her body jolting forward against the desk.

I gripped Leeseo’s hips tighter and started pounding her from behind. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly in the empty classroom as I drove my thick cock deep into her tight pussy again and again.

Leeseo moaned loudly, her body rocking forward with every powerful thrust.

“Ahh! It feels good… Sir, it feels so good…!”

I kept thrusting steadily, reaching one hand around to grope her bouncing breast while explaining in a rough voice:

“Doggystyle is special because it lets me go really deep… I can hit your cervix easier like this. And you look so fucking sexy bent over like this — ass up, back arched, taking my cock like a good little slut.”

Leeseo’s moans grew louder and more shameless. Her body was rocking hard against the desk as I railed her.

“This is so wrong… but it feels so good… Ahh—! Keep it up… please…!”

She was pushing back against me now, her pussy clenching greedily around my shaft with every thrust.

Then, between her moans, she gasped out:

“More… Get intense with me, Sir… Please…”

I smirked, slowing down for a moment but still buried deep inside her.

“You mean you want it rougher?” I asked, voice low and teasing as I gave her ass a firm slap.

Leeseo whimpered, nodding desperately.

The moment Leeseo begged for it rougher, my smirk turned darker.

“Alright then… you asked for it.”

I grabbed a fistful of her long hair and yanked her head back, arching her back sharply. At the same time, I started pounding her hard — deep, brutal thrusts that made her entire body jolt forward against the desk with every slam.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The sound of my hips crashing into her ass filled the classroom. I spanked her ass hard, leaving red handprints on her smooth skin.

“Ahh!!” Leeseo screamed in pleasure, her moans completely uncontrollable now.

I reached around and slapped her bouncing tits too, pinching her nipples roughly while I railed her.

“You’re such a dirty little idol slut,” I growled, yanking her hair harder. “Look at you — IVE’s precious maknae getting fucked like a whore on her own desk. Taking my big cock so deep.”

Leeseo’s face was a horny, fucked-out mess — tongue slightly out, eyes rolling back, drooling a little as she moaned uncontrollably.

“I’m… I’m an idol group member… from IVE… but I’m doing this… this is so wrong… but it feels so good… aaahn!!”

Her words were broken by loud, shameless moans. She couldn’t think straight anymore — just a dripping, moaning mess getting destroyed from behind.

I kept pounding her mercilessly, spanking her ass and tits red while pulling her hair.

“That’s right, baby. Moan louder. Let the whole school know what a naughty cumslut their idol is. Your tight little pussy was made for this — made for my cock. Gonna ruin you so good you’ll never be satisfied with anyone else.”

Leeseo’s legs were shaking, her pussy clenching hard around me as she got lost in the rough pleasure.

I groaned deeply, still pounding her hard from behind, my thick cock stretching her tight pussy with every thrust.

“Fuck… I didn’t expect I’d actually be fucking Leeseo today,” I growled, voice rough with pleasure. “Having my shaft buried so deep inside an IVE member… you feel so fucking good.”

Leeseo moaned uncontrollably, her body rocking forward with every hard slam.

“I… I watched porn… about student and teacher… last night… It looked so arousing… ahhn!!”

I laughed, yanking her hair back a little harder as I kept railing her.

“So you like the age difference, huh? Older guy ruining a cute young idol like you?”

Leeseo’s voice came out broken between moans:

“Yes… I wished… someone could do it for me… make me like this… turn me into a mess… aaahh!!”

I laughed again, spanking her ass hard.

“What a naughty girl you are… IVE’s innocent maknae secretly wanting to get fucked by her much older teacher. Look at you now, just a moaning mess like a whore while I destroy your tight little pussy.”

I kept pounding her mercilessly, the desk creaking under the force as Leeseo completely gave in to the pleasure, her mind blank except for the feeling of my cock stretching her.

I kept railing Leeseo relentlessly from behind. One hand gripped her waist tightly, the other grabbed the back of her messy uniform like a handle, pulling her back onto my cock with every brutal thrust.

I leaned down, lips brushing against her ear as I whispered hotly:

“Next is the last chapter… about breeding.”

Leeseo moaned loudly, her body shaking with every deep slam.

I continued talking while pounding her:

“When a man cums inside a woman, he shoots millions of sperm… usually 2 to 5 milliliters of thick cum… straight into her womb. Those sperm swim up and try to fertilize her egg… and that’s how a girl gets pregnant.”

I smirked, spanking her ass hard again.

“Look at your hips… they’re such a good shape. Your breasts too… You look so fucking fertile, Leeseo. Perfect body for breeding.”

Leeseo’s mind suddenly cleared for a moment.

What if he really cums inside me…? What if I get pregnant…? I’m an idol… I can’t…

But the thought quickly blurred again as the intense pleasure of my thick cock destroying her pussy took over.

“Aah—! Aah—! I’m scared… Please pull out… I can’t get pregnant…!” she moaned desperately.

But her body betrayed her words. Her pussy clenched even tighter around me as she pushed back against my thrusts.

“But… it’s too good… I want to feel it too…!”

She was a complete moaning mess — scared, guilty, but too addicted to the pleasure to stop.

I kept pounding Leeseo mercilessly from behind, my hips slamming against her ass as I chased my own orgasm. I leaned down, lips right against her ear, and whispered hotly:

“I’m gonna cum inside you, Leeseo… I’m going to fill your womb with my seed.”

Leeseo screamed in panic, her voice breaking.

“Ah! Ah! Please! Cum outside me! I can’t risk getting pregnant—!!”

But her body completely betrayed her. Her pussy suddenly got impossibly tighter, clenching and milking my cock greedily as if it wanted exactly what she was begging against. Her hips pushed back against me desperately as she neared her own orgasm.

“Here we go, Leeseo!”

I buried myself as deep as possible, the head of my cock pressed right against her cervix, and started cumming hard.

“Aah…. fuck… this feels so good!”

Thick, hot ropes of cum blasted deep inside her pussy, flooding her womb. Leeseo screamed, eyes widened in horror even as her body convulsed in pleasure.

“Wait.. wait! Aaahhh!! I feel it… I feel something warm inside me… You’re breeding me—!!”

Her own orgasm hit her at the same time. Her pussy spasmed wildly around my cock, milking every drop as she came hard, body shaking uncontrollably.

Rope after rope kept pumping into her. I stayed buried deep, groaning in satisfaction as I filled her completely.

I whispered right against her ear, voice low and possessive, while still shooting the last few spurts inside her:

“You feel it, Leeseo? You’re being inseminated by me right now… My cum is filling your womb. Good girl.”

Leeseo could only moan brokenly, her body still twitching as she felt every pulse of my cock pumping her full.

I stayed buried deep inside her for a few more seconds, savoring the way her pussy milked every last drop. Then I leaned down and whispered softly against her ear:

“Don’t worry, Leeseo… You won’t get pregnant. I have emergency pills that can cancel it. You should take one, okay?”

I explained gently while still pressed against her:

“It’s a morning-after pill. It stops the fertilization process or prevents implantation. You’ll be safe.”

Leeseo let out a big sigh of relief, her body relaxing a little.

“You scared me… I can’t get pregnant because I’m still an idol, you know…”

I chuckled and kissed the back of her neck.

“I was just teasing you a bit, you know?”

I slowly pulled out of her with a wet plop. Leeseo whimpered at the sudden emptiness. A thick mix of her virginity blood, her love juices, and my white cum started leaking out of her stretched pussy, dripping down her thighs onto the floor.

I turned her around gently and sat her on the chair.

“Take a look at it.”

Leeseo spread her legs wide, looking down at the messy sight between her thighs. She stared at her swollen, red pussy leaking my cum and giggled softly, still dazed.

“Ah… this is real… Just like the porn I saw when the female gets cummed inside…”

She reached down with one hand, playing with her pussy a little — spreading her folds, watching more cum drip out. Her face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fascination.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pack of wet tissues. I gently wiped between Leeseo’s legs, cleaning up the messy mix of cum, her juices, and a bit of blood.

Leeseo giggled softly as the cool tissue touched her sensitive, swollen pussy.

“It’s cold… and it tickles…” she said with a shy laugh, squirming a little on the chair.

When I was done, she looked up at me with those big, sparkling eyes and asked softly:

“Can I clean you up too… with my mouth?”

I was surprised by how bold she was, but nodded with a smirk.

Leeseo slid off the chair and went down on her knees in front of me without hesitation. She looked up at me for a second, then leaned in and started licking my cock clean.

Her soft tongue ran along my shaft, tasting the mix of our juices. She took the head into her warm mouth and sucked gently, cleaning me thoroughly with slow, careful movements.

I groaned softly, watching IVE’s maknae on her knees, willingly sucking me clean right after I took her virginity.

Leeseo pulled back with a small pop, licking her lips.

“Did I do it right, Sir…?” she asked shyly, still on her knees, looking up at you with flushed cheeks.

“Mmh… it feels so good, Leeseo,” I groaned, gently stroking her hair. “You’re so cute when you do this. You’re really good at it already.”

Leeseo giggled around my cock, still eagerly sucking and licking me clean until I was spotless. When she finally pulled back, she gave the tip a little kiss and looked up at me with a playful smile.

She stood up, still giggling shyly as she fixed her hair, straightened her uniform, and pulled her panties back into place.

“Thank you for the lesson, Sir,” she said sweetly, cheeks still pink. “I understand everything now. I’m going to do my best on the next test!”

Time skip

A few days later, the test results were posted.

Leeseo had passed with flying colors, her score was even higher than Kyujin’s.

Kyujin stared at the paper in disbelief, then turned to her friend with wide eyes.

“How did you learn so fast?! Tell me your secret!”

Leeseo just smirked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Ah, maybe it’s thanks to you! Don’t worry, Kyujin~ Thank you so much for your notes. They really helped me a lot.”

Kyujin narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“…Why do I feel like you’re not telling me the full story?”

Leeseo only giggled and walked away with a little sway in her step, already thinking about her next “private lesson.”

[blanceverlast]

I mean... 😩

[manyuhk-blog]

[flux1563]

Porn shoot pt. 2 ft yunjin

Tag : Gangbang, Creampie

Words : 3k

Y/N's hand was still slick with her juices as he opened the door of the sleek black sedan and practically threw Yunjin into the apartment, her bare body glistening in the stark light of the hallway. She stumbled, the cool air of the building a stark contrast to the sticky heat of their recent encounter. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing through the quiet space, and she looked up to find the crew manager standing there, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Yunjin is right here," Y/N said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that made her skin crawl. He gestured to her, naked and trembling, and the crewman's jaw dropped. The other man looked at her with a mix of shock and hunger, his gaze lingering on the wetness between her legs.

The first three men didn't waste a second. They descended upon her like ravenous beasts, each claiming a piece of her body for their own twisted delight. One buried his face in her armpit, his tongue flicking and lapping at her sweaty skin with a hunger that made her stomach twist. Another grabbed her by the neck, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip, drawing blood. The third man dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving hers as he buried his face between her legs, his tongue immediately seeking out her clit and bringing her to the edge of another squirt.

The other three men circled them, cameras rolling, capturing every intimate detail. The flashes were blinding, the sound of the recording devices a constant reminder that this was not a private moment. She could feel the eyes of her group members, her manager, and the entire crew on her, watching, judging, lusting after her exposed form. Her cheeks burned with humiliation, but she was too far gone to protest, her body responding to the relentless onslaught of pleasure.

One of the cameramen stepped closer, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "You're so beautiful when you squirt." The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and she found herself pushing her hips against the man's face, silently begging for more. Her pussy was a slick mess, the sound of his mouth sucking and licking echoing through the room. The other two men held her in place, their hands rough as they groped and squeezed her breasts, their fingers pinching her nipples until she was sure they'd leave marks.

With a final, triumphant lick, the man at her pussy pulled away, his face shiny with her juices. He grinned up at her, and she could see the excitement in his eyes as he unbuckled his belt. The fabric of his pants fell away, revealing his cock, thick and hard with anticipation. She knew what was coming, and a mix of fear and excitement curled in her belly. This was it; there was no turning back now.

The man who had been kissing her neck moved to her side, his cock jutting out in front of her face. He didn't have to ask; she knew what he wanted, and she leaned in, her mouth opening wide to take him in. The taste of her own arousal was faint on his skin, a reminder of the power she held in her own sexuality. She sucked eagerly, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper. His hand tightened in her hair, guiding her movements, and she could feel the first stirrings of another orgasm building deep within her.

The third man, the one who had been watching with such intensity, stepped forward. He was the biggest of them all, and she felt a momentary pang of doubt as she saw the size of his cock. But the hunger in his eyes was undeniable, and she found herself spreading her legs wider, welcoming him. He positioned himself at her ass, and she felt a moment of resistance before he pushed inside, his cock stretching her wide.

The moment all three cocks entered her simultaneously, she felt like she was being split apart, filled to the brim with their lust. The sensation was overwhelming, and she let out a muffled scream around the cock in her mouth. They moved in sync, their rhythm a well-oiled machine of desire that had her body writhing in pleasure. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, the pressure in her pussy and ass building until she couldn't take it anymore.

Her squirt was like a geyser, soaking the men and the floor beneath them. The sound of her moan was lost in the cacophony of their grunts and the slap of skin on skin. She felt so alive, so powerful, as she took them all. The room was a blur of bodies and cameras, a kaleidoscope of lust that left her breathless. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the men pounded into her, their strokes growing more erratic with their own approaching climaxes.

The man in her pussy grunted, his grip on her waist tightening as he shot his load deep inside her, filling her with his hot cum. The feeling of him filling her up triggered another orgasm, and she squirted even more, her body bucking with the force of it. The man filming her face leaned in, eager to capture her reaction, and she could see the excitement in his eyes. He was close, his cock twitching with the need to release.

The one in her mouth pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva. He jerked himself off, the head bobbing in front of her face. She watched, mesmerized, as he painted her with ropes of cum, covering her cheeks and nose. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant, and she found herself leaning in to lick a droplet from her upper lip. He groaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise, and she felt a thrill run through her.

The last man, the one in her ass, was pumping faster now, his breath coming in harsh pants. She could feel his cock thickening, and she pushed back onto him, eager to milk him dry. He gripped her hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he grunted, his teeth clenched. And then, with a roar, he came, his cum joining the mess already pooling in her pussy. She squirted again, the feeling of his hot seed in her ass pushing her over the edge.

Yunjin collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The men hovered around her, their eyes glued to the screen as they watched the replay of their depraved performance. Her pussy was still pulsing, the warmth of their cum seeping out of her, a sticky reminder of their shared release. She couldn't help the smile that curled her lips; she had never felt so desired, so alive.

The other three man who filming at first round start their turn.

Yunjin's pussy was still quivering from the previous assault when the next three crewmen stepped forward. They looked at her with hungry eyes, their cocks already erect and gleaming with anticipation. She could see the excitement in their faces, the way they licked their lips as they approached. The thought of two cocks filling her up was overwhelming, and she felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over her.

The first man knelt between her legs, his cock bobbing eagerly as he lined it up with her dripping entrance. He pushed inside her, his girth stretching her to the limit, and she gasped at the sensation. The second man followed suit, his cock sliding in alongside the first with surprising ease. She was so wet, so open, that she could feel their shafts rubbing together, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.

The third man leaned over her, his cock brushing her cheek as he whispered in her ear, "You're going to love this." He didn't wait for a response before he pushed the tip past her lips, filling her mouth to the brim. She choked slightly, her eyes watering, but she took it, her tongue swirling around him as she struggled to breathe through her nose. The taste of their combined arousal was overpowering, a musky, salty flavor that she found herself craving more of.

The rhythm began again, the two cocks inside her moving in tandem as the man in her mouth began to fuck her face. She could feel their excitement growing, their breaths quickening as they watched the screen, her body contorting in pleasure. The cameramen had switched places, capturing every angle of her being used and enjoyed.

Their thrusts grew more frenzied, their moans and grunts filling the room. Yunjin's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt herself climbing towards another peak. Her body was a whirlwind of sensation, a symphony of pain and pleasure that had her teetering on the edge.

And then it was too much. The two cocks inside her pushed her over the edge, and she squirted once more, the force of it spraying against their stomachs. The man in her mouth pulled out, his cock shiny with her saliva and the juices that leaked from her pussy. He stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, and she knew what was coming next.

With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his cum painting her face and neck in thick ropes. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she swallowed, the taste of him mixing with the remnants of the others' cum still coating her tongue. It was a heady mix, one that had her pussy clenching around the two cocks still buried inside her.

The other two didn't last much longer, their bodies tensing as they reached their own climaxes. They filled her up, their cum mixing with the others' until she was drenched in it. Her pussy was a slick mess, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasms.

The crewmen pulled out of her, their cocks glistening with her juices. They stepped back, panting, their eyes never leaving her. Yunjin could feel their gaze like a physical touch, a reminder of the power she wielded over them.

The next round of men approached, their excitement palpable. She was spread out on the bed like a feast, her limbs trembling from the relentless assault of pleasure. One man claimed her mouth, his cock pushing past her lips as she took him deep. His taste was different, a new flavor to add to the cocktail of desire that already filled her. She moaned around him, her tongue swirling as she sucked him off with newfound enthusiasm.

Her pussy was the target of the second man, his cock pushing into her with ease. She was so wet, so loose from the constant pounding, that she could feel every inch of him as he filled her up. And the third? He didn't wait for an invitation, plunging straight into her ass without preamble. The pain was sharp, but she was too lost in the haze of pleasure to care. Her body was no longer her own, a mere receptacle for their lust.

They fucked her like this for what felt like hours, the room a blur of bodies and sweat. Each time she thought she couldn't take anymore, she'd squirt again, her body betraying her with its insatiable hunger for more. She could feel their hands everywhere, groping her breasts, her thighs, her ass. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had her writhing on the bed.

And when they were done, they'd pull out, their cum dripping from her.

The day of the gangbang continued, and with each round, Yunjin found herself craving the feeling of being completely filled. The two cocks inside her pussy brought a new level of fullness she never knew existed, stretching her to her limits. The third cock in her mouth was a constant reminder of her role in this depraved dance, a silent conductor keeping her in tune with their desires. And she squirted, time and time again, her body's involuntary response to the relentless onslaught of pleasure.

The men took turns, a never-ending line of eager participants ready to claim their share of the idol. The bed beneath her grew slick with a mix of her juices and their cum, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air. Yet she remained unfazed, her body a canvas for their lust, her pussy a fountain that never ran dry. The men marveled at her ability to keep going, her squirts growing more powerful with each new cock that filled her.

The cameramen circled like vultures, capturing every moment in high definition. They zoomed in on her gaping pussy, the way her ass cheeks clenched around the dick pumping in and out of her, the droplets of cum that adorned her face like a macabre necklace. Her moans grew louder, her squirts more intense, and the room echoed with the slap of flesh and the wet sounds of sex.

Yunjin's mind was a whirlwind of sensation, a delirious mix of pain and pleasure that blurred the lines of reality. She could feel herself slipping away, becoming nothing more than a collection of nerve endings and orgasms. And yet, she couldn't stop. Her body responded to their touch like a marionette to their master's strings, her pussy clenching around them, her mouth eagerly taking them in, her eyes never leaving the camera lens that bore into her soul. She was a goddess of desire, a queen of lust, and she reveled in every moment of it.

The day dragged on, a never-ending procession of cocks and cum. Two men claimed her ass, their thick rods stretching her to the point of pain. She could feel their excitement, their hunger for her body. Her moans grew deeper, her voice hoarse from screaming, as they pounded into her with an unbridled fury that seemed to resonate through the very core of her being. And yet, she never stopped squirting. Her pussy was a geyser, a fountain of pleasure that seemed to have no end.

Her throat was raw from swallowing their seed, her mouth a cavern of saliva and cum. The taste lingered on her tongue, a reminder of her complete submission to their will. But she didn't care. She craved it, craved the feeling of being used, of being the center of their lust. Her body was their plaything, and she was more than happy to oblige.

The room was a cacophony of grunts and slaps, of flesh on flesh, of wet squelches and guttural moans. The men took her in every position imaginable, pushing her to her limits and beyond. Her pussy was stretched and filled, her ass pummeled until she was sure she could take no more. And yet, she kept going, her body responding to their touch with a ferocity that surprised even her. With each squirt, she felt a surge of power, a sense of control that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Her eyes remained locked on the camera, the red light a beacon in the sea of sweat and semen. She knew that her groupmates were watching, knew that they were waiting for their turn. The thought of it only made her wetter, her squirts more intense. She was the star of this show, the prize to be claimed, and she loved every second of it. Her body was theirs, and she would give them everything they wanted and more.

As the final spurts of cum painted her face and chest, the men withdrew, their cocks glistening with her juices. They were spent, their chests heaving with exhaustion. But Yunjin was insatiable. She licked her lips, tasting the salt and musk, and felt a new wave of arousal crash over her. Her pussy was still pulsing, begging for more.

"Now," she purred, "it's time for your golden shower." The men looked at each other, grinning like hyenas that had just found a fresh kill. They lined up, their cocks still hard, and began to piss on her. The warmth of their urine was surprisingly soothing against her over-sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the fiery lust that had consumed her moments ago. She closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the streams wash over her, filling her mouth and running down her throat.

Her body was a canvas, a masterpiece of depravity and desire. The piss rained down on her, her skin shimmering under the fluorescent lights. She felt the warm liquid pooling in her belly button, running down her sides to drench the couch beneath her. Her hair was matted to her forehead, and her makeup had long ago been washed away, leaving her bare and exposed in a way she had never been before. Yet, she had never felt more alive.

As the last of the men zipped up and left the room, she lay there, panting and trembling, a mess of sticky cum and piss. The room was silent except for the sound of her own breathing and the drip-drip-drip of their seed slowly leaving her body. But she wasn't done yet. Her pussy was still swollen, still begging for release.

With a wicked smile, she reached down to touch herself, her fingers slipping easily into her soaked hole. She began to masturbate, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving the camera. The director had told her to keep filming, to show everyone what a good little slut she could be. And she was going to give him a show.

Her hand moved faster, her hips bucking as she chased the elusive high of another orgasm. The room grew hotter, the scent of sex and bodily fluids thick in the air. She could feel it building, the pressure in her belly growing until it was all she could focus on. And when it hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over her and leaving her gasping for air.

Her body convulsed, her pussy spasming around her hand as she squirted once more, the final release a testament to her endurance. The camera kept rolling, capturing every second of her descent into carnality. And when she was finally spent, she collapsed against the couch, a sigh of pure contentment escaping her lips.

The director's voice broke through the silence. "Good girl," he said, his tone one of admiration and possession. "You've done well. But don't think it's over yet. You're going to need to clean up before the next round." And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving her alone in the apartment, her body aching and her mind racing with anticipation for what was to come.

*i am sorry if it's to short

[flux1563]

Prada Succubus ft Karina Aespa.

Part of ambassador contract

Words : 9k

Tags : all holes filled, double penetration, pussy gaping, ass gaping, golden shower, squirting, spanking, creampie, cum shower

Karina was very excited to hear the invitation from Prada. She knew what awaited her; news about her during her Nike ambassador contract was sure to have spread far and wide. Immediately, she got ready to leave for her destination. "You're really not going to bring a change of clothes?" the manager said. "No need, beside, I'm sure I'll rarely wear clothes when I get there," Karina replied with a laugh. Now she's just wearing shoes, black stockings up to her thighs, a white tank top, and a jacket. Inside her bag, she only carries one tank top and one blazer. After several hours on the plane, Karina finally arrived in Milan.

Now Karina is wearing a white tank top with a black blazer and long jeans that cover her black stockings. The event went smoothly, with a group photo session featuring Prada executives, other artists, and designers. Throughout the event, many male dignitaries and male designers whispered naughty words in Karina's ear.

"Tonight you will wear nothing," one designer whispered softly as he passed behind her during the cocktail hour, his breath hot against her neck. Another executive slid a hand too low on her back during group photos, murmuring, "I do like to see all your skin covered in cum." Karina kept her smile flawless, nodding politely while her knuckles whitened around her champagne flute. These weren't propositions—they were promises, delivered like business forecasts.

The whispers grew bolder as the event stretched into its third hour. "You'll be dripping from every hole before sunrise," a silver-haired executive hissed against her ear as they pretended to admire a handbag display. Karina felt the cool slide of a business card slipping into her blazer pocket, followed by fingers lingering too long on her hip. She didn't flinch, but her jaw tightened imperceptibly. These men spoke like they owned the night—and her.

"They've prepared everything. Tonight at 10 PM, after this event is over, you'll get into the car they've provided." Her manager sent a message to her phone.

10 PM arrived. Karina got into the car that was provided. Inside the car were only her and a very big black man, who was in charge of driving. He opened the dashboard and took out some items. Vibrator panties, collar chain, and nipple clamps. "Take off everything you're wearing except your black stockings, and use all of this," the man ordered. Karina nodded obediently, remembering that her prostitute's soul could no longer be contained. She took off everything she was wearing. Her white body was exposed inside the car, her clean pussy without a single hair, her breasts now free without a bra with hardened nipples. Slowly, she put the collar chain around her neck, attached nipple clamps to her nipples, and put on vibrator panties.

The driver started the car. Karina sat in the passenger seat, her naked body exposed to the driver. The driver glanced at her clean pussy and smiled. Then he took out a controller from his pocket. Without warning, he pressed the button. The vibrator panties immediately turned on to maximum speed. Karina gasped loudly as the intense vibration attacked her clit without mercy. Her body jerked violently in the seat, her legs instinctively spreading wider as her hands gripped the seatbelt tightly.

Karina tried to close her legs. She squeezed her thighs together desperately, her muscles trembling as she fought against the overwhelming sensations. The vibrations were relentless, buzzing deep inside her, making her hips buck uncontrollably.

"Keep open your legs as wide as possible, don't you dare close your legs or I'll throw you onto the streets right now and let those homeless people use your body however they want." That firm order came from his mouth. Karina, who had been a slut since the "Nike" accident, didn't mind being used by the homeless, but she couldn't let the world know that herself was a slut.

The journey felt very long. Perhaps because of the stimulation she received, she couldn't wait to reach the destination and being used freely by the people from Prada.

Karina's voice trembled as the vibrations intensified, her words spilling out in breathless gasps. "Oh god it's so strong I can feel it deep inside me," she moaned, her knuckles white where they gripped the seatbelt. "My clit's throbbing... feels like I'm being fucked raw by electricity." She arched her back, sweat glistening on her collarbones as the nipple clamps bit into her tender flesh. "Please... I need to come so bad..."

The driver chuckled darkly, thumb hovering over the controller. "Let it out, slut. Show me how much that cunt wants it." He watched her thighs quiver violently, the scent of her arousal thick in the confined space. "Scream if you have to."

Karina’s head slammed back against the headrest as her climax tore through her. "I'm cumming ahhhh!" she shrieked, her voice raw. A hot gush of fluid sprayed across the leather seat beneath her, soaking the upholstery and dripping onto the floor mat. Her entire body convulsed, the vibrations still ruthlessly assaulting her oversensitive clit as she rode the aftershocks, gasping like a drowning woman.

He didn’t ease the intensity. Instead, he drove faster through Milan’s dimly lit streets, the vibrator’s relentless buzz syncing with Karina’s ragged whimpers. Her juices pooled beneath her, the wet sound obscene against the hum of the engine. She clawed at the seatbelt, tears pricking her eyes—not from pain, but from the brutal, unending pleasure that blurred into agony.

The driver kept the vibrator on at maximum power, not letting her breathe for a moment after orgasm. Her body is now glistening with sweat, her heart is pounding, and her breathing is irregular.

Karina squirted again, soaking the seat even more. She tried to hold back her moans, but the vibrations were too intense. Her hips lifted off the seat involuntarily as another wave hit her, her clit throbbing relentlessly. She lost count after the fourth orgasm each one crashing over her faster than the last, leaving her trembling and gasping.

Another gush escaped her as the vibrations shifted deeper inside her panties. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, slick with her own fluids. The orgasms blurred together now no beginning, no end just a continuous, brutal assault on her senses. She arched her back, the nipple clamps biting sharply as another climax tore through her without warning.

Karina doesn't know if she can continue this activity or not. Her cunt kept squirting continuously, even though the pause this time was only a few seconds. Her body was already sprawled out on the back seat with her legs open, her body shaking violently, her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened wide like "O" with no sound. Silent tremors wracked her frame, the vibrator still mercilessly buzzing against her swollen clit as another thin stream of fluid trickled down her thighs onto the leather seat. The air smelled sharply of sweat and sex, thick enough to taste.

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, his expression impassive. "Keep those legs spread, whore," he commanded, his voice cutting through her haze. "They paid for a dripping wreck, not a tired slut." He flicked the controller again, maintaining maximum intensity despite her trembling exhaustion. Karina's hips jerked helplessly, a choked gasp finally escaping her slack mouth as fresh tremors began building beneath her skin.

She floated in a numb, buzzing void where time meant nothing only the relentless thrumming between her legs and the sharp bite of clamps on her nipples. Another weak spurt escaped her, warm against her inner thigh, as her muscles fluttered uselessly. Her vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in, but the vibrations dragged her ruthlessly back toward the brink yet again.

A sharp sting exploded on her cheek. Her eyes snapped open, unfocused. The driver’s massive hand hovered near her face, his voice a low rumble cutting through the fog. "Wake up. You keep squirting all the way journey, slut. Eyes open." His thumb traced the red mark blooming on her skin. "Show me you're still breathing."

Karina tried to regain consciousness. Her legs felt like jelly because they were kept wide open during the journey, her nipples were very sore from the nipple clamps, and she was shocked to see that the back seat was no longer just wet, but rather looked as if it had been flooded.

The driver pulled her chain collar sharply. "Walk," he commanded, his voice low and final. Karina's legs were shaking violently as she tried to stand, while her hands were tightly gripping the car door.

"I can't walk," Karina gasped, her voice raw and trembling. "My legs feel boneless." She slumped against the seat, thighs slick with sweat and arousal, her muscles refusing to obey. The vibrator still hummed relentlessly against her swollen clit, sending fresh tremors through her exhausted body. She looked up at him, eyes glazed, tears mixing with sweat on her cheeks. "Please... it's too much."

The driver leaned over the seat, his expression coldly amused. He gripped her chain collar tighter, yanking her forward until her face was inches from his. "Just crawling, your dumbass slut," he ordered, his voice thick with contempt. Before she could react, his open palm cracked sharply against her left breast, the sting radiating through her nipple clamp. She cried out, jerking backward. Instantly, his other hand swung hard, delivering a stinging slap to her ass cheek that echoed in the confined space. The impact jolted her upright, pain flaring white-hot where he struck. "Out. Now. On your hands and knees."

Karina whimpered, scrambling clumsily over the wet leather seat. Her limbs shook violently as she lowered herself onto the cold pavement of the underground garage. The rough concrete scraped her knees, the sudden chill a shock against her overheated skin. She kept her head bowed, humiliation burning hotter than the sting on her ass or breasts. The driver stood beside her, nudging her hip impatiently with his boot. "Move," he commanded, pointing toward a discreet service elevator across the dimly lit garage. "They're waiting upstairs. Don't keep them bored."

The vibrator's brutal buzz intensified again as she crawled forward. Karina gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily against nothing, slickness dripping onto the concrete with each awkward, trembling shuffle. The driver walked beside her, his fingers casually twisting the controller's dial higher whenever her pace faltered. Her clit throbbed mercilessly, the sensation a white-hot brand searing through her exhaustion. Tears blurred her vision as she focused only on the rhythmic scrape of her knees and the punishing thrum between her legs.

Karina finally arrived inside the villa. Everyone was watching her from the second floor. There were so many people, Karina didn't know the exact number. Some of them had white skin, some had black skin, and some were from Asia. She was convinced that they were investors, executive clients, and senior executives of Prada. Everyone clapped seeing Karina being treated like a pet.

Karina crawled across the polished marble floor, her knees raw from the garage concrete. Whispers echoed from the balcony above executives, designers, all leaning over the railing with champagne flutes in hand. "Look at that desperate cunt dripping on the tiles," someone chuckled. Another voice, sharp and mocking, cut through the hum: "Pathetic. Can't even walk after a car ride?" The words coiled hot in Karina's belly. Her clit throbbed violently under the vibrator's assault, a fresh gush of arousal soaking her thighs as humiliation burned into arousal. She lifted her chin defiantly, a moan escaping her lips low, hungry. The jeers didn't shame her; they lit a fuse deep inside her ruined body.

Her knees scraped to a halt on cold marble. Without waiting for command, Karina shoved herself upright and flopped backward onto the floor, legs splaying obscenely wide. Her swollen, dripping cunt pulsed visibly in the villa's harsh light. "Please," she gasped, the vibrator's buzz distorting her voice into a ragged whine. "I need cock. Now." Her eyes, glazed and desperate, swept across the balcony above. The words echoed off vaulted ceilings, sharp and shameless. A stunned silence fell then erupted into laughter, cruel and approving.

The first three people went down the stairs. Judging by their physical appearance, they seem to be from Asia. The first person came and held Karina's chin, saying, "You've been so thirsty for cock, haven't you?" The second person forcibly removed the nipple clamps from Karina's nipples, causing her to moan, "ahh." Meanwhile, the third person removed the vibrator panties that Karina was wearing. "Please master, give your slut your cocks," Karina begged. Without delay, the first three people immediately took off all the clothes they were wearing.

Their dick weren't as big as Karina had felt before, but she didn't care. She just needed a dick, no matter the size.

Karina immediately knelt down between the first three men, sucking their penises alternately and without stopping. "This slut is very thirsty for cock," one of them said. "The people from Nike are very good at educating her," another man replied.

Karina sucked each penis alternately, wetting them thoroughly with her saliva. Her tongue slid hungrily along each shaft, coating them in glistening wetness until all three stood slick and hard. "That's enough," commanded the man whose cock she'd just released from her lips with a lewd pop. Immediately, another dropped onto his back on the cold marble, spreading his legs. "Ride me, baby." Karina scrambled over him without hesitation, positioning her dripping entrance directly above his erection. The remaining two men moved into place one pressing his cock against her parted lips, the other positioning himself behind her, the thick head of his penis nudging insistently against her tight, untouched asshole.

Karina sank down onto the first cock with a guttural moan, impaling herself fully in one slick slide. Her wetness eased the penetration, but she gasped sharply as the man beneath her gripped her hips and thrust upward, burying himself deeper. Simultaneously, the cock at her mouth pushed past her lips, filling her throat as she began to bob desperately. Behind her, fingers slicked with her own juices probed her asshole before the thick head breached her tight ring. Karina screamed around the cock in her mouth a muffled, animal sound as she was stretched and filled from both ends, her body trembling violently from the brutal invasion.

She rode the man beneath her in frantic, jerking motions, her thighs slick with sweat and arousal. The cock in her ass pistoned relentlessly, each thrust forcing her down harder onto the shaft filling her pussy. When the man in her mouth withdrew slightly, she gasped for air, saliva and tears streaking her face. "Harder!" she choked out before he slammed back in, silencing her. Above, the balcony crowd roared approval, champagne glasses raised as they watched her body used like a common whore pussy and ass stretched wide, mouth stuffed, breasts bouncing with each brutal thrust.

Karina’s vision blurred. Pain and pleasure blurred into a white-hot haze as she was fucked raw from three directions. The man beneath her grunted, his hips bucking upward erratically. "Gonna fill this slut!" he growled. She felt his cock swell inside her pussy just as the man in her ass groaned, his thrusts turning shallow and urgent. The cock in her mouth pulsed against her tongue. Karina’s eyes rolled back she was seconds from being flooded from all three holes, her ruined body nothing but a vessel for their release.

Thick ropes of cum exploded into her throat, her ass, her cunt. Karina gagged, swallowing convulsively as the man in her mouth emptied himself down her throat. The man beneath her arched, spilling deep inside her womb while the one behind her slammed home one last time, painting her insides with his seed. They withdrew abruptly, leaving her shuddering and gaping. Cum dripped from her gaping asshole, spilled from her swollen pussy, streaked her chin. She collapsed onto the cold marble, a broken doll leaking their mess.

Then it hit her. The emptiness was sudden, violent. Her cunt clenched around nothing, spasming wildly. A tremor started deep in her belly, radiating outwards until her entire body convulsed. Her back arched off the floor, toes curling, fingers scrabbling at the slick marble. "N-no!" she gasped, but it was too late. A gush of clear fluid sprayed from her pulsing pussy, soaking her thighs and pooling beneath her hips. Her eyes flew wide, unseeing, as wave after wave of orgasm tore through her, leaving her trembling and gasping.

She lay there, utterly spent. Her legs splayed obscenely, her chest heaving. The scent of sex and sweat hung thick in the air. Above, the balcony erupted into applause and laughter. "Look at that filthy mess!" someone shouted. Karina didn’t move. She stared at the vaulted ceiling, tears mixing with sweat and cum on her cheeks. The marble beneath her was cold, sticky. She could feel eyes crawling over her naked, trembling form. Someone chuckled, low and cruel. "She’s not done. Not even close." Footsteps began descending the stairs again.

Two other men immediately climbed down the ladder. "Now it's our turn," one of them said to the three men who had already tasted the pleasure of Karina's body. The two people who came down this time had black skin and very large bodies, they seemed to be from Africa or America. They descended the stairs while removing their clothes. Truly, their penises are enormous, Karina doesn't know what will happen if that thing enters her body.

These two people are more impatient than the previous three. They both immediately pulled Karina to her feet. Karina stood with trembling legs while the men held her up to keep her from falling. Round two begins.

The larger of the two black men gripped Karina's hips, spinning her roughly to face away from him. His massive cock, thick as her wrist and glistening with anticipation, pressed against her cum-slicked entrance. Though soaked, her pussy struggled to accommodate his girth. He shoved forward relentlessly, stretching her impossibly wide. Karina’s head snapped back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her eyes rolled white. Her cunt spasmed violently around the invading thickness, triggering an immediate, convulsive orgasm that made her legs buckle. She hung suspended by his grip, impaled and shuddering, juices gushing down her thighs.

The second man stepped forward, his own monstrous erection aimed at her asshole—still dripping with the previous man’s seed. He pressed the swollen head against her tight ring. Karina gasped, her body tensing. "Fuck, it won’t fit!" she shrieked, voice cracking with panic. He ignored her, pushing slowly but inexorably. The stretch was excruciating; she felt herself tearing, a sharp, white-hot pain radiating through her pelvis. Her asshole yielded reluctantly, burning as it stretched around his girth. Tears streamed down her face as she was speared open from both ends, her body trembling

violently.

Karina hung limp between them, filled to bursting. The man in her pussy began thrusting in deep, brutal strokes, each slam forcing her body down harder onto the cock in her ass. The dual penetration stretched her beyond endurance—every movement a collision of agony and overwhelming sensation. Her cunt clenched and released in involuntary spasms, squirting thin streams of fluid with each downward plunge. Above, the balcony crowd roared, chanting "Deeper!" as they watched her body used like a flesh puppet.

"It's... too big," Karina gasped, her voice shredded. She felt herself tearing inside, stretched impossibly wide. "I'll break—" Her words dissolved into a choked scream as the man behind her pistoned harder, his hips slamming against her bruised ass cheeks. The pain blurred into a white-hot haze, her vision tunneling. She felt her muscles ripping, the brutal stretch burning through her pelvis. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with sweat and saliva. "Please... stop... I can't—"

Her body betrayed her. A violent tremor seized her core, radiating outward like an electric shock. Her cunt clenched *hard* around the monstrous thickness inside her, triggering an explosive orgasm that ripped through her defenses. Fluid sprayed violently onto the marble floor beneath her, splattering their legs. She shuddered uncontrollably, her hips bucking against the relentless thrusts, her cries turning into ragged, involuntary moans. The agony hadn't lessened—it had fused with the brutal pleasure, twisting into something monstrous and consuming.

"I think your body said another thing from your mouth," the man buried in her pussy growled, his voice thick with contempt. He gripped her hips tighter, fingers digging into her flesh, forcing her down onto him even deeper as he felt her muscles flutter and spasm around his cock. Her traitorous hips rocked back against him, seeking more friction, more fullness, despite the raw pain radiating through her pelvis. Her head lolled forward, a low, guttural groan escaping her lips—pure, desperate need overriding conscious thought. She was nothing but sensation now, a vessel wired for overload.

The balcony erupted into cruel laughter. "Look at that slut take it!" someone shouted. Karina’s eyes rolled back as another orgasm tore through her, weaker this time but still violent, her body jerking like a puppet on strings.

They pulled out abruptly. The sudden emptiness was worse than the stretching. Karina collapsed face-first onto the cold marble, her hips still twitching violently. Thick streams of cum flooded from her gaping pussy and stretched asshole, pooling beneath her trembling thighs. Her cunt visibly pulsed—a raw, swollen "O"—as another weak gush of clear fluid sprayed onto the already soaked floor. Her legs spasmed uncontrollably, toes curling against the sticky tile. She couldn't stop shaking.

Before she could even suck in a ragged breath, two pairs of polished leather shoes appeared beside her head. Rough hands gripped her shoulders, flipping her onto her back. Two white men, leaner than the last but eyes burning with the same predatory hunger, stood over her. Their cocks were already hard, glistening pre-cum dripping onto her thighs. One gripped her hips, lifting her pelvis off the floor. The other positioned himself at her entrance, the thick head pressing against her abused, dripping folds. "Hold her open," he commanded. His partner instantly hooked his fingers into the slick, swollen lips of her pussy, spreading them obscenely wide.

The first cock slammed into her with brutal efficiency. Karina gasped, arching off the floor as the familiar stretch ignited fresh agony mixed with raw, unwanted pleasure. Before she could adjust, the second man pressed his cockhead right beside the shaft already buried deep inside her. He ground against her stretched entrance, demanding space. Karina screamed—a raw, tearing sound—as the impossible pressure mounted.

Her lips parted, trembling. Only a ragged whisper escaped, thick with tears and exhaustion: "I can't... my pussy's going to break..." The words dissolved into a choked sob as the second man shoved forward relentlessly. Her flesh yielded with a sickening burn, forced to accommodate two thick shafts simultaneously. She felt herself splitting, a sharp, white-hot rip tearing through her core. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with sweat and saliva pooling beneath her head. Her hips jerked violently, caught between the instinct to flee the agony and the body's traitorous clench around the invading fullness.

Above her, the men grunted, pistoning in opposite rhythms—one pulling back while the other thrust deep—stretching her ruined cunt wider with every brutal stroke. Karina’s vision blurred. The pain fused with the relentless friction into a searing buzz that short-circuited thought. Her back arched off the marble, toes curling against the sticky tile. A gush of fluid sprayed weakly onto their thighs, her body convulsing in a silent, seizure-like orgasm that offered no relief, only deeper violation.

Her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, unseeing. Her mouth hung slack in a perpetual "O," drool pooling beneath her cheek. No screams came—her throat was raw, her voice shredded. Only shallow, rapid breaths escaped between parted lips. Her pussy clenched and released in violent spasms, squirting thin streams of fluid with each inward thrust. It wasn’t pleasure; it was her body betraying her, reacting on pure, broken instinct.

The men slammed harder, faster, their hips slapping against her thighs. Karina’s head lolled limply to the side. Her gaze fixed blankly on the balcony railing above—a blur of faces, champagne flutes, leering smiles. Another spasm tore through her. Fluid splattered the marble beneath her hips. She felt nothing but the mechanical clench-release of her muscles, the endless wet gush between her legs. Her mind floated somewhere distant, detached.

They withdrew abruptly. Karina collapsed, her body jerking uncontrollably. Fluid leaked from her gaping entrance in a steady stream. Her eyes remained rolled back, unfocused. Her mouth stayed open—a silent scream frozen in time. The marble beneath her hips shone wet.

Two new men approached. They wore expensive watches. Their eyes lingered on her stretched asshole, still dripping cum. One spat onto his palm, slicking his cock. The other did the same. They knelt behind her trembling form. Rough hands gripped her hips, lifting her onto her knees. Her head lolled forward, hair sticking to her sweaty face. She offered no resistance—just shallow breaths.

The first thick head pressed against her abused ring. It breached slowly, stretching the tender flesh wide. Karina whimpered—a broken, airless sound. Before she could tense, the second cock pressed tight beside it. Both men shoved simultaneously. Her asshole ripped wider, forced to accommodate both shafts. A guttural scream tore from her throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body convulsed violently, squirting weakly onto the floor.

They pistoned in brutal rhythm. Each thrust stretched her beyond limits. Karina’s vision blurred into white static. Her asshole burned—a raw, tearing agony. Yet her hips rocked back instinctively, seeking the punishing fullness. Above, laughter echoed. Someone shouted, "Look at that ruined hole!" Her body betrayed her again. Another violent orgasm seized her—pure reflex. Fluid sprayed across the marble as she trembled, impaled and broken.

They pulled out abruptly. The emptiness hit like a physical blow. Karina collapsed face-down. Her gaping asshole pulsed visibly—a raw, stretched "O" leaking thick streams of cum onto the cold floor. The muscles fluttered weakly, unable to close. She felt hollowed out. Destroyed. Her cheek pressed into a puddle of sweat and tears. She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Above her, the balcony crowd descended. Footsteps echoed—sharp clicks of designer heels, muffled thuds of polished loafers. They formed a loose circle around her broken body. Champagne flutes tilted. Gold liquid splashed across her trembling shoulders. Red wine followed, staining her skin like blood. Whiskey burned in the raw scrapes on her knees. Laughter rang out—sharp, cruel notes that bounced off marble walls. "To the corporate slut!" someone toasted. Another voice slurred, "Make her drink the floor!" More liquid rained down—vodka, cognac, sticky-sweet liqueur—drenching her hair, pooling in the hollow of her spine, mingling with the fluids leaking from her ruined holes.

Two men hauled her up by the arms. Her legs buckled, feet sliding in the slick mess. They dragged her across the villa—past gilded mirrors reflecting her naked, dripping form—and threw her onto a massive velvet chaise lounge in a dimly lit parlor. The fabric felt cold against her burning skin. Before she could curl inward, hands pinned her thighs apart. Two new men stood between her legs, cocks already hard and glistening. One pressed his thick head against her swollen, gaping entrance. The other aligned his shaft beside it. Karina whimpered—a raw, animal sound—as they pushed forward simultaneously. Her torn flesh stretched impossibly wider, burning as both crowns breached her at once. Tears blurred her vision. She felt herself splitting anew.

They shoved deeper in brutal unison. Karina’s back arched violently off the velvet, a silent scream tearing her throat raw. Her cunt strained around the impossible thickness—a searing, white-hot agony that drowned all thought. Yet her body betrayed her again. Muscles fluttered and clenched reflexively, milking the invading shafts. Fluid gushed around them, soaking the dark velvet beneath her hips. The men grunted, pistoning harder, faster. Each thrust stretched her wrecked passage wider, forcing ragged moans from her lips. Pain and violation fused into a jagged current that short-circuited her mind. Her eyes rolled back, unfocused. Drool pooled on the cushion beside her cheek.

Suddenly, a third man knelt beside her head. He gripped her hair, yanking her face toward his erection. "Open," he commanded. Karina’s jaw fell slack—obedient, broken. He shoved his cock deep into her throat. She gagged violently, throat convulsing around the intrusion. Tears streamed down her temples. The dual invasion below pistoned relentlessly, stretching her beyond endurance. Above, the balcony spectators filtered into the room, forming a silent, leering semicircle. Their eyes crawled over her—a body reduced to three gaping holes, rhythmically stuffed, dripping, used. Karina’s vision darkened at the edges. Consciousness frayed. Only sensation remained: the brutal fullness, the tearing burn, the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.

They withdrew without warning. Karina collapsed back onto the velvet, choking on saliva and cum. Fluid gushed freely from her ruined cunt, pooling beneath her hips. Before she could draw breath, rough hands flipped her onto her stomach. Fingers pried apart her cheeks, exposing her stretched, leaking asshole.

The men dragged her limp body through French doors into the moonlit garden. Cool night air hit her sweat-slicked skin as they dumped her onto dew-soaked grass. Figures emerged from the shadows—more executives, shirts unbuttoned, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. One hauled her onto her knees. Another gripped her hips from behind, thrusting into her gaping asshole without preamble. A third shoved his cock deep into her slack mouth. Karina gagged, eyes rolling back as she was filled again.

They rotated positions swiftly—one emptying his load down her throat while another took her ass, then switching to pound her wrecked pussy as soon as it emptied. Cum streaked her thighs, her belly, her breasts. Her body convulsed with involuntary orgasms each time a new cock breached her, fluid spraying weakly onto crushed petals beneath her. The garden filled with grunts, slapping flesh, and the wet sounds of her overused holes.

Karina lost count. Faces blurred. Sensation narrowed to the brutal stretch, the hot floods inside her, the tremors wracking her frame whenever her body betrayed her with another reflexive climax. Dawn approached—pale light creeping over manicured hedges—as the last man pulled out, spilling across her trembling back. She lay facedown in the dirt, utterly hollow. Cum leaked from every orifice. Between her legs, her cunt gaped obscenely—swollen, torn, and dripping onto the trampled roses. Silence fell. Only her ragged breathing remained.

Hands seized her again—not urgently now, but with a grim purpose. They hauled her limp form back across the dew-slick lawn, through the villa’s French doors, and dumped her unceremoniously onto the cold marble floor she’d first stained hours before. Karina didn’t resist. Her cheek pressed against the polished stone, sticky with dried fluids. She stared blankly ahead, seeing nothing.

The executives formed a loose ring around her. Silk ties loosened, cufflinks gleamed under the chandelier light. One by one, they unzipped trousers, pulling out half-hard cocks slicked with anticipation. A low murmur spread—not laughter now, but something darker, hungrier. The man who’d first ordered her into the car stepped forward, his polished Oxford nudging her hip. "Every drop," he commanded softly. "Paint

her."

Hands began moving in unison—a dozen fists pumping rhythmically. The wet, slick sounds filled the echoing hall. Karina flinched as the first thick rope struck her shoulder blade, hot and viscous. Then another splattered across her lower back. Another hit her thigh. It became a rain—warm, sticky streaks painting her skin white. She squeezed her eyes shut as it hit her neck, her hair, the curve of her ass. Rivulets ran down her spine, pooled in the hollow of her waist. The smell—salt and sex—clung thickly.

Karina curled inward instinctively, but rough hands pinned her wrists, spreading her arms wide. "Open," someone growled. Cum splashed across her breasts, her belly, the raw, swollen mess between her legs. She gasped as it hit her closed eyelids, forcing them open.

The first hot stream struck her thigh—a scalding jet that made her flinch violently. Another hit her lower back, pooling in the hollow above her ass. Then came the deluge: arcs of piss spraying her torso, her face, her gaping cunt. It stung her eyes, filled her nostrils with the sharp ammonia reek, soaked her hair into dark, dripping ropes. She choked, turning her head away, only for a stream to hit her open mouth—bitter, warm, flooding her throat. She gagged, sputtering, as more piss rained down, washing streaks of cum into milky rivers that streamed across the marble beneath her.

They aimed deliberately now—one man pissing directly into her stretched pussy, the flow forcing its way deep inside her battered passage. Another targeted her asshole, the stream probing the raw, torn ring before overflowing down her thighs. A third arched his stream high, letting it cascade over her face like a grotesque shower, filling her ears, her nose, her screaming mouth until she could only swallow convulsively or drown. Her body convulsed, not with pleasure, but with primal revulsion—muscles spasming against the invasive heat flooding her violated holes.

The torrents slowed to trickles, then drips. Karina lay motionless in the spreading yellow puddle, soaked through, her skin slick and reeking. Silence fell, broken only by zippers closing and low, satisfied chuckles. Then footsteps retreated across the wet marble, leaving her alone in the echoing hall.

The sharp click of familiar dress shoes approached. The driver stood over her, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he bent, slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders, lifting her effortlessly. Her limp body hung in his arms, dripping piss and cum onto his polished shoes as he carried her away from the wreckage of the main hall. He navigated shadowed corridors, past closed doors murmuring with fading revelry, toward the villa's private quarters.

He kicked open a heavy oak door into a vast, tiled bathroom. Steam curled from a sunken marble tub already filling with hot water. He lowered Karina onto the cold floor beside it, her back against the vanity cabinets. Her eyes cracked open, unfocused, as he unbuckled his belt. The zipper hissed down. What emerged wasn't just big; it was obscene, a monstrous, veined pillar of flesh that dwarfed everything that had filled her that night. It stood thick as her forearm, flushed dark purple, the swollen head glistening under the harsh bathroom lights. He gripped the base, his knuckles white. "Last stage," he rumbled, his voice devoid of mockery, pure finality.

He stepped forward, his shadow engulfing her. Calloused fingers gripped her jaw, forcing it wide. Karina could only stare, slack-jawed, as the impossible girth filled her vision. He didn't thrust; he pressed the slick, bulbous crown against her lips. Her jaw strained instantly, tendons screaming. He pushed relentlessly, ignoring the choked gag that tore from her throat as her mouth stretched wider, wider, impossibly wide. Teeth scraped against hard flesh. Tears welled instantly, blurring the monstrous intrusion. He shoved deeper, the thick shaft forcing her tongue flat, filling her mouth cavity completely, pressing against the back of her throat. Her nose pressed against his lower belly, the coarse hair tickling her skin. He groaned, a low, satisfied rumble. "Fuck… so warm and tight," he grunted, his hips shifting minutely, grinding the massive head deeper into her constricting throat.

Her gag reflex hit violently, her body convulsing, trying desperately to expel the suffocating intrusion. Saliva flooded uselessly around the shaft. He held firm, his hand tightening on her jaw. "Swallow," he commanded, his voice thick. Karina tried. Her throat muscles fluttered weakly against the unyielding pressure. He pulled back slightly, just enough for her to gasp a ragged, wet breath, then surged forward again, burying another brutal inch. Her neck strained, tendons standing out like cables. Stars exploded behind her eyelids. The sheer, suffocating fullness was overwhelming, a different agony entirely – not just stretching, but consuming. Her nostrils flared desperately for air that barely came. His musky scent filled her senses.

He began a slow, grinding rhythm. Not thrusts, but deep, deliberate presses, each one forcing her throat to yield fractionally more. Her jaw felt dislocated. Tears streamed freely, mixing with drool soaking her chin and neck. He watched her struggle, his expression impassive except for the tightening of his jaw. "Good slut," he murmured, his hips pressing forward again, burying himself to the root. Her eyes rolled back, consciousness flickering as the overwhelming pressure and lack of oxygen merged into a terrifying, drowning sensation. The hot water continued to pour into the tub beside them, steam curling around their locked bodies.

He held himself buried deep for an agonizing eternity. Karina felt her throat muscles flutter uselessly, her body convulsing weakly against his grip. Then, a low groan vibrated through him into her skull. She felt the thick pulse deep inside her throat, a hot, thick flood surging directly down her gullet. He didn't pull back. He kept her pinned, forcing her to swallow convulsively as he emptied himself, the torrent thick and salty, coating her raw throat. Her stomach lurched violently, but she had no air to gag properly, only shuddering swallows forced by the relentless pressure holding her captive.

He withdrew abruptly, the monstrous shaft sliding slickly out of her ruined throat with a wet, sucking pop. Air rushed into Karina’s burning lungs in a ragged, desperate gasp. She slumped forward, coughing violently, strings of saliva and cum dangling from her swollen lips, her throat a raw, agonized tunnel. Before she could collapse fully, his hand tangled in her soaked hair, hauling her brutally upright. Her legs trembled violently, threatening to buckle. He dragged her stumbling, dripping form away from the tub, shoving her face-first against the cold, tiled wall. The ceramic felt icy against her overheated skin.

His palm cracked against her ass cheek with shocking force—a sharp, stinging explosion that echoed in the steamy room. Karina cried out, her body jerking against the wall. The impact sent a jarring ripple through her abused core. Her gaping pussy, stretched beyond recognition, clenched violently around nothing, a reflexive spasm that squeezed out a thin, clear stream of fluid onto the tiles below. Her equally ravaged asshole pulsed in a tight, painful flutter. The emptiness was a fresh agony.

Another brutal spank landed lower, squarely across her sit-spot. The sting was immediate, sharp, and deep. Again, her ruined cunt convulsed, muscles seizing involuntarily. Another weak squirt sprayed from her, pattering onto the floor. Each slap wasn't just pain; it was a brutal command that bypassed her shattered mind and spoke directly to her broken body’s reflexes. Her hips bucked helplessly against the wall with every strike, her swollen lips visibly trembling and releasing fluid onto her thighs and the tiles beneath her shaking feet.

He delivered a final, open-handed blow right across her trembling, dripping entrance. Karina arched her back with a choked sob, her entire lower body convulsing. A final, pathetic gush sprayed out, leaving her trembling violently, pinned against the cold wall, her ruined holes spasming weakly in the aftermath. The only sounds were her ragged, wet breaths and the steady drip of fluids onto the bathroom floor.

Without preamble, his thick hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into bruised flesh. The massive head of his cock, slick with her own fluids and spit, pressed brutally against her swollen, gaping entrance. Despite the night's relentless abuse, the sheer girth was obscene. He shoved forward in one powerful thrust. Karina screamed – a raw, tearing sound – as her already wrecked passage stretched impossibly wider. The burning sensation was immediate, a fresh agony layered over the deep, throbbing pain. Yet, instantly, her body betrayed her. A violent jet of fluid erupted from her core, spraying across the tiles beneath her knees. "Fuck," he grunted, his voice thick with exertion and surprise, hips grinding deeper, "you're still tight after all of this."

He began a relentless rhythm, deep, piston-like thrusts that forced her hips forward against the cold wall with each drive. Karina gasped, desperate to scream again, but the sound died in her raw throat – only ragged, wet breaths escaped her gaping mouth. Her head lolled weakly, eyes rolling back until only the whites showed, unfocused and blind. Her jaw hung slack, drool pooling thickly on her chin and dripping onto the tiles below. Inside her, the monstrous cock dragged against torn flesh, each withdrawal pulling her ruined lips obscenely outward before slamming back in. And each brutal inward surge triggered another violent reflex. Her pussy clenched violently around the invading girth, squeezing out another gush of clear fluid that pattered onto the floor in a steady, humiliating stream.

He increased his pace, the wet slap of flesh echoing sharply in the steamy bathroom. Karina’s body became a shuddering puppet controlled by the relentless invasion. Her hips bucked weakly backward against his thrusts, seeking the punishing fullness even as her mind recoiled. Every deep penetration forced another involuntary jet from her abused core – not an orgasm, but a raw, reflexive expulsion. Her gaping mouth trembled, trying and failing to form a scream, producing only choked, airless whimpers. Her eyes remained rolled back, unseeing, tears mingling with the sweat and drool coating her face. The driver’s grunts grew louder, punctuated by the rhythmic splatter of her squirting onto the wet floor beneath her trembling knees.

A final, brutal thrust buried him to the hilt. He groaned, a low, guttural sound of release, his cock pulsing thickly deep inside her battered passage. The sudden flood of hot cum triggered one last, violent convulsion. Karina’s body arched sharply, her ruined pussy clamping down and spraying a final torrent of fluid mixed with his seed onto the tiles before she collapsed forward against the wall, utterly spent and silent except for her shallow, ragged gasps. He withdrew with a slick, sucking sound, leaving her gaping hole visibly pulsing, leaking cum onto her trembling thighs.

Without pause, his thick fingers gripped her hips again, pulling her asscheeks apart. The slick, swollen head of his cock pressed against her already torn and gaping asshole. Karina whimpered weakly—a broken, airless sound—as he shoved forward relentlessly. The burning stretch was immediate and excruciating, tearing the raw flesh anew despite the night’s brutal preparation. Her body betrayed her instantly; her hips rocked back instinctively, her asshole fluttering weakly around the invading thickness as another reflexive jet squirted from her pussy onto the wall.

He hauled her upright abruptly, one powerful arm hooking beneath her knees. Her legs folded against his chest like a broken doll’s, forming a crude "M" shape that exposed her completely. Her head lolled backward, eyes unfocused, as he slammed into her asshole from behind with brutal force. Each deep thrust lifted her limp body slightly off the tiles, the wet slap echoing sharply. Her ruined pussy sprayed violently against the wall with every penetration, arcs of fluid painting streaks down the ceramic.

His rhythm intensified—short, punishing drives that buried his entire length inside her tortured asshole. Karina’s body convulsed like a ragdoll with each impact, her legs bouncing limply in his grip. Her gaping pussy clenched and released in perfect, agonizing synchronization, spraying the wall in rhythmic bursts that splattered higher with each thrust. Drool streamed from her slack mouth, pooling on the tiles below her dangling head.

He slammed home one final time, grinding deep as he roared his release. Karina’s body seized violently, her asshole pulsing around his shaft while her pussy erupted in a final, violent torrent that drenched the wall from floor to waist-height. Then silence—broken only by the drip of fluids and her shallow, ragged gasps as he lowered her trembling legs. She crumpled to the floor, a broken heap beneath the mural of her own humiliation.

The driver stepped back, his shadow looming over her. Karina slumped against the cold tile wall, her spine pressed to its unyielding surface. Her eyes remained glazed, unfocused, mouth slack and trembling. He stood before her, his spent cock glistening inches from her face. A slow, deliberate smirk twisted his lips as he aimed the thick head directly at her open mouth.

A hot, acrid stream burst forth, splattering across her lips, flooding her slack jaw. Karina choked, sputtering as piss filled her mouth, bitter and scalding. It washed over her cheeks, her eyelids, plastering her hair to her forehead in sodden streaks. She gagged weakly, swallowing reflexively, the foul taste flooding her throat.

He shifted his aim, painting her entire face—nose, chin, hollows of her eyes—in a relentless golden cascade. It pooled in her collarbones, streamed down her neck, soaking the ruined canvas of her skin. Karina didn’t close her mouth. Didn’t turn away. She simply sat, trembling against the wall, drowning in the warm, stinking rain until it slowed to a drip, leaving her drenched, reeking, and utterly hollow.

Without a word, the driver turned. His polished shoes clicked sharply on the wet tiles as he strode toward the door. The heavy oak thudded shut behind him, leaving Karina alone in the steam-filled silence. She remained slumped against the wall, her body a ruined landscape of bruises, bite marks, and drying fluids. Between her legs, her gaping pussy pulsed weakly, a slow, involuntary clench. A thick, wet bubble of air escaped her ruined hole with a low, resonant "pop". Then another. And another. Each queef echoed obscenely loud in the quiet bathroom, a rhythmic, hollow sound betraying the brutal emptiness within her. Her equally torn asshole followed suit, releasing its own series of muffled, wet gasps against the cold tile floor.

Her body shuddered violently. A final, pathetic jet of clear fluid sprayed weakly from her gaping cunt, pattering onto the puddled floor beneath her. Her eyelids fluttered. The steam blurred into a gray haze. The rhythmic "pop-hiss" of her own violated holes became distant, muffled, like sounds heard underwater. Her chin slumped forward onto her chest. The cold tile against her spine faded. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision, swallowing the harsh bathroom light, the dripping sounds, the lingering stench of piss and sex. Consciousness frayed, snapped, and vanished. Karina slumped sideways onto the wet marble, utterly still, her breathing shallow and ragged, her face pressed into the cooling mess beneath her.

Time dissolved. Was it minutes? Hours? Days? The steam had thinned. The tub’s overflow drain gurgled softly. Karina stirred. A low groan escaped her cracked lips. Her eyelids scraped open. Blurry shapes swam—the tub’s curved lip, the chrome faucet still dripping, the grout lines between large, ivory tiles. The silence pressed in, thick and heavy, broken only by… "pop-hiss… pop-hiss…" She blinked slowly. The sound was coming from her. Her wrecked pussy, stretched obscenely wide, pulsed weakly against the cold floor. Each tiny contraction squeezed out a bubble of trapped air, a hollow, wet gasp. Her asshole echoed it, a softer, muffled "pfft" against the tile. The relentless queefing continued, a grotesque metronome marking the void within her.

Pain registered next—a deep, throbbing agony radiating from her core, her ass, her throat. Every breath scraped like sandpaper. She tried to move her fingers. They twitched weakly. Her legs felt like lead weights. The tub. The steaming water. The thought pierced the fog. "Clean". It was the only coherent idea. With a ragged gasp, Karina dragged one trembling arm beneath her. Her elbow slipped in the slick mess. She pushed. Her hips screamed in protest. She managed to roll onto her belly. The movement triggered another violent spray of fluid from her gaping hole. "Pop-hiss… pop-hiss…" Ignoring the humiliating soundtrack, she dug her fingers into the grout line. Inch by agonizing inch, she dragged her broken body forward. Her knees scraped over the tiles, leaving smears of pinkish fluid and drying cum. Her breasts dragged through the cold puddles. Her gaping pussy kissed the floor with every shuddering crawl, releasing another wet

gasp.

Her fingers finally curled over the tub’s warm marble edge. She hauled her torso upward, collapsing her upper body over the rim. Steam curled around her face. The hot water lapped against her bruised ribs. With a final, desperate heave, Karina rolled her hips and legs over the side. She slid into the deep water with a heavy splash. Scalding heat enveloped her battered flesh. She sank beneath the surface, eyes closed, letting the water sting her wounds and wash away the filth, the silence punctuated only by the muffled "pop-hiss… pop-hiss…" bubbling up from her submerged core.

She scrubbed mechanically, fingers raw on her skin, scraping away dried cum, piss, and humiliation. The water turned cloudy, then gray, then a sickening brown. She drained it, refilled, scrubbed again until the water ran clear and her skin was pink and raw. Every movement echoed hollowly inside her. She climbed out, dripping, and found a thick terrycloth robe hanging on the back of the door. She wrapped it tightly, the fabric rough against her abused skin. It was the smallest armor she could find.

Karina pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped into the hallway. Her legs trembled violently. She leaned her shoulder against the cool plaster wall for support, sliding one foot forward, then the other. The villa was utterly silent. Dawn light streamed through tall windows, illuminating utter devastation. The marble floor was a Jackson Pollock of dried fluids—thick streaks of white sperm, splatters of red wine like bloodstains, sticky champagne puddles, and everywhere, the ghostly, shimmering trails of her own dried squirt. Crushed crystal glasses glittered amidst the wreckage. An overturned chaise lounge lay smeared with bodily fluids. The air hung thick with the cloying stench of sex, alcohol, and decay.

The manager stood waiting by the villa’s grand entrance, his expression impassive. He didn't look at her face, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond her shoulder. A simple black jacket lay folded over his arm. "Flight leaves in three hours," he stated flatly. He held out the jacket. Karina let the thick terrycloth robe slide from her shoulders. It pooled at her feet on the filthy marble. She stood naked in the devastation, her body a roadmap of bruises—deep purple fingerprints encircling her hips, bite marks blooming along her inner thighs, the skin around her gaping pussy swollen and raw. She reached for the jacket. It was cheap polyester, thin, barely reaching her mid-thigh. She slipped it on. The rough lining scraped her sensitive skin. It offered no warmth, only the thinnest veneer of covering. Her ravaged pussy pulsed weakly. "Pop-hiss". The sound echoed sharply in the silent hall. The manager’s eyes flickered downward for a fraction of a second before he gestured wordlessly towards the waiting car.

Inside the sleek Mercedes, Karina pressed herself against the cool leather of the passenger door, putting as much distance as possible from the driver. The jacket rode up, exposing the bruised tops of her thighs. Every bump in the road sent a fresh jolt of pain radiating from her core. She stared blankly out at the manicured lawns blurring past. Her body betrayed her relentlessly. With each subtle shift in her posture, each involuntary clench of her traumatized muscles, the hollow gasps escaped. "Pop-hiss... pfft... pop-hiss". The driver’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He didn't turn his head, but his jaw clenched. Karina closed her eyes, focusing on the monotonous hum of the engine, trying to drown out the obscene rhythm emanating from between her legs.

Business class felt cavernous and sterile. Karina sank into the wide leather seat, pulling the thin jacket tightly around herself as if it could shield her. The engine’s drone was a welcome blanket of white noise. She curled towards the window, feigning sleep, praying the hum would mask it. But her body was a traitor. As the plane climbed, pressure shifted inside her battered cavities. A deep, resonant "pop-hiss" vibrated against the leather seat cushion. Then a softer, wetter "pfft" from behind. Karina froze, eyes squeezed shut. Across the aisle, a silver-haired man in a crisp suit glanced up from his tablet. His brow furrowed slightly. He scanned the ceiling panels, then shrugged, adjusting his noise-canceling headphones before returning to his screen. Relief washed over her, cold and fleeting.

Hours crawled by. Karina drifted in and out of a shallow, nightmare-filled doze. Each time she shifted, each time the plane encountered turbulence, her ruined passages protested. The sounds returned – muffled by the seat but distinct: a low bubble escaping her pussy ("pop-hiss"), followed by a tighter gasp from her ass ("pfft"). Two rows back, a woman applying lipstick paused. She tilted her head, listening intently for a moment, her gaze drifting towards Karina’s seat. Her expression was one of mild puzzlement, perhaps mistaking it for a faulty air vent or a strange cabin pressure anomaly. She snapped her compact shut and returned to her magazine, oblivious to the source mere feet away.

Backstage at Music Bank, the air crackled with pre-show adrenaline. Karina adjusted her sparkly miniskirt, the sequins scratching her raw thighs. She took a deep breath, centering herself for the choreography. As she bent slightly to stretch her hamstrings, a sharp "pop-hiss" escaped her gaping pussy, echoing slightly in the cramped corridor. Winter, leaning against a costume rack nearby, snorted loudly. "Seriously, Unnie?" she drawled, not bothering to lower her voice. Ningning giggled, covering her mouth theatrically. "Is that your new sound effect for the comeback stage? Very avant-garde." Giselle, applying eyeliner in a mirror, smirked without turning around. "Maybe she’s practicing her ASMR track. ‘Ambient Queefing’, track one."

During the live performance, Karina moved with fierce precision, her smile bright and unwavering under the blinding stage lights. She hit every note, nailed every sharp dance move. But beneath the glittering bodysuit, her body betrayed her relentlessly. A complex spin landed her in a deep crouch – "pop-hiss". A powerful jump – "pfft". The microphones picked up nothing but the music and the crowd’s roar, but Karina felt every humiliating release vibrate through her core. Backstage after the encore, breathless and sweating, she leaned against a wall. Before she could catch her breath, Winter sauntered past, mimicking the sound under her breath: "Pop-hiss-pfft-pop! Must be exhausting, Unnie, leaking air like a broken balloon." Ningning dissolved into helpless giggles beside her.

Karina stared at her reflection in the brightly lit vanity mirror. The flawless makeup couldn't hide the shadows under her eyes, nor the slight tremor in her hands. The thin jacket lay discarded on a chair. She smoothed her stage outfit, the fabric whispering against her bruised skin. The relentless queefing was a constant, physical reminder of the villa, a soundtrack she couldn't escape. She saw Winter’s mocking smirk reflected behind her. Taking a slow, deliberate breath, Karina straightened her shoulders. The defiance was brittle, a fragile shield against the internal void and the audible proof of her violation that followed her every step.

[flux1563]

He is Mine Ft Anna

11k words

Tags : Multiple Creampie, Marathon Sex, Cheating, Multiple Orgasm

Anna X Male Reader

Anna was the kind of student who naturally drew attention wherever she went. With her graceful presence, expressive cat-like eyes, long dark hair, and effortless elegance, she carried herself with a quiet confidence that made people admire her without even trying. Despite her popularity on campus, Anna had never been interested in romance—until the first day she stepped into your history lecture. The moment you began speaking with calm authority and genuine passion for the past, something inside her changed. It wasn't a passing crush; it was love at first sight, and from that day forward, her heart belonged to you.

Every lecture became the highlight of her week. She always arrived early, choosing a seat where she could watch you explain centuries of history with infectious enthusiasm. While the other students hurried to leave after class, Anna often lingered behind, pretending to organize her notes just to hear you answer a few extra questions. She admired not only your intelligence but also your kindness, patience, and the quiet warmth you showed to every student equally.

"But wouldn't the logistics of the supply chain have made that specific treaty impossible to maintain?" Anna asked, her voice cutting through the end-of-class chatter with a calculated clarity. She wasn't looking at the textbook; she was looking directly at you, her chin tilted just enough to catch the light.

You paused, capping your marker and glancing at the slide. A small, appreciative smile tugged at your lips. "Now, that is a genuinely good question, Anna. Most people overlook the maritime constraints of the sixteenth century." You stepped closer to her desk, leaning in slightly to point out a map detail, oblivious to the way her breath hitched or the way her fingers tightened around the edge of her notebook.

For Anna, those few seconds of focused attention were the only currency that mattered. She didn't need the validation of the other students who were already halfway out the door; she only wanted the specific, scholarly approval that lived in your eyes. As you explained the nuance of the trade routes, she nodded along, though her mind had drifted from the history of spice trades to the way your voice softened when you were thinking deeply.

The following weeks became a choreographed dance of academic curiosity. Anna began spending her weekends in the archives, digging up obscure citations and primary sources that she knew would pique your interest. She didn't just want to be a good student; she wanted to be the only student who could challenge you, creating a private intellectual dialogue between the two of you that felt, to her, like a shared secret. These exchanges were the highlights of her day, a series of small, earned victories that kept her coming back to the front row of your lecture hall.

However, the reality of your life was a constant, silent presence in the room. It was the gold band that caught the light whenever you gestured toward the whiteboard, and the framed photograph of your spouse that sat modestly on the corner of your desk. Whenever Anna caught a glimpse of it, a sharp, familiar ache settled in her chest—a feeling of jealousy toward a person she barely knew, but a recognition of the boundary that stood between her and the life she imagined with you.

"The archives are technically closed on Tuesdays, but the curator is a friend of mine who owes me a favor involving a very rare map of the Levant," you mentioned casually, glancing up from your notes as Anna approached your desk.

She didn't flinch at the mention of the rule-breaking; instead, she leaned in, her expression one of delighted curiosity. Over the next few weeks, these "extracurricular" research trips became a ritual. What started as a quest for primary sources on the Mediterranean trade morphed into a series of long, wandering conversations that drifted far from the sixteenth century. Anna had developed a talent for the conversational pivot—starting with a question about your academic influences and sliding, with a seamless grace, into questions about your favorite childhood memories or the books you read for pleasure when you weren't grading papers.

"You have a very specific way of describing the architecture of the Renaissance," she remarked one rainy Tuesday, her voice barely a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the library. "It's so romanticized. I wonder if you've always viewed the world through that lens, or if someone specific encouraged that side of you?"

The question was a probe, a gentle fingertip testing the boundary of your professional perimeter. She wasn't asking about your thesis anymore; she was asking about the architecture of your heart. You found yourself smiling, the kind of genuine, warm expression you usually reserved for your inner circle. "My grandmother was a painter," you replied, pausing to consider the question. "She taught me that the beauty of a building isn't in the stone, but in the light that hits it at four in the afternoon."

Anna lingered on that image, her gaze shifting from the ancient manuscripts to the way the dim library light caught the gold band on your finger. "You're very patient with people," she noted, her tone shifting to something softer, more intimate. "I imagine that's why your home is such a peaceful place. Do you find that the quiet of your private life helps you handle the chaos of the university?"

"It’s a necessary sanctuary," you replied, your voice echoing slightly in the vaulted silence of the archives. You didn't move away, but you did shift your weight, subconsciously creating a fraction of distance that Anna felt like a physical wall. "Between the faculty meetings and the undergraduate crises, having a place where the world just stops is the only way to stay sane. My spouse is the anchor for that. They have this incredible ability to make the rest of the world feel like background noise."

Anna nodded, her expression a mask of polite interest, though the word *anchor* felt like a weight pulling her under. She had spent months meticulously crafting a version of herself that was indispensable to you—the brilliant pupil, the intellectual peer, the only person who truly understood your passion for the Levant. Hearing you speak of your home life with such effortless contentment was a reminder that there was a whole dimension of your existence where she didn't even exist as a footnote.

"Do you think the peonies are too cliché, or is there a timelessness to them that I'm overlooking?"

The text arrived on a Thursday afternoon, punctuating a lecture on the Fall of Constantinople. You didn't have to look at the contact name to know it was Anna; she had a way of phrasing things that made even a question about floristry feel like a thesis defense. The exchange of phone numbers had happened organically a month prior, born from the logistical necessity of coordinating archive hours, but it had quickly evolved into a digital tether. Anna had become a constant, gentle hum in the periphery of your day, a stream of consciousness that flowed from complex historical queries to the mundane frustrations of her dormitory life.

For Anna, the shift was a strategic victory. She had transitioned from the front row of a lecture hall to the palm of your hand. She began sharing the small, jagged edges of her day—the frustration of a broken coffee machine, the anxiety of a looming deadline, the way a certain song made her feel inexplicably lonely. By offering these fragments of her vulnerability, she had carved out a space for herself as more than just a star pupil. She was becoming a confidante, a sounding board, a presence you relied on for a different kind of intellectual stimulation—one that was personal and immediate.

You, in turn, found her perspective refreshing. There was a youthful, unfiltered honesty to her taste that you sometimes felt you had lost in the sterilized environment of academia. When you were planning your anniversary or searching for a birthday gift that wouldn't feel repetitive, you found yourself typing her name into your messages. It felt innocent, a mentorship that had expanded into a friendship. You trusted her eye for beauty and her instinct for the poetic, never realizing that every time you asked for her help in surprising your spouse, you were handing her a map of the very love she wished she could replace.

One evening, the conversation shifted from the domestic to the existential. Anna had sent a photo of a rain-streaked window, followed by a message: Everything feels so temporary today. Does that ever happen to you? The feeling that you're just a guest in your own life?

"You're thinking too much again," you replied, leaning back in your office chair as the blue light of the screen illuminated the deepening shadows of the room. It was a gentle rebuke, the kind of playful nudge that had become the baseline of your digital shorthand. "The rain has a way of making the world feel like a melancholy novel, but remember that even the most temporary storms eventually run out of water."

Anna didn't reply immediately. The three dots of her typing indicator appeared, vanished, and reappeared several times, as if she were editing a confession in real-time. When the message finally arrived, it was shorter, stripped of its poetic armor: What happens when the storm is the only thing that makes you feel alive ?

The weight of the question hung in the air, vibrating with an intensity that felt slightly too heavy for a Thursday night. You paused, your thumb hovering over the screen. For a moment, the professional distance you maintained—that invisible line between professor and pupil—felt dangerously thin. You recognized that specific brand of collegiate angst, the yearning for something profound and unattainable, but with Anna, it always felt more focused, more intentional.

"I don't care if she's a prodigy. I don't care if she's the next great historian of our generation."

The voice didn't come from a lecture hall or a quiet archive; it came from the kitchen, sharp enough to slice through the comfortable silence of the evening. Your wife, wasn't screaming—not yet—but her voice had reached that vibrating frequency that signaled a total collapse of patience. She was standing by the counter, your phone lying face-up between you, the screen still glowing with a notification from Anna about a particular translation of Petrarch. For months, youe wife had played the part of the supportive partner, smiling when you mentioned Anna’s brilliance, but the small things had been accumulating like sediment. The way you checked your phone during dinner, the way your face lit up when mentioning a "breakthrough" in the archives, and the subtle, pervasive presence of a young woman who seemed to occupy every spare thought you had.

The explosion happened over something trivial—a misplaced comment about Anna's "incredible intuition"—but it was the catalyst for everything. your wife finally let it all out, her frustration spilling over in a torrent of words that left you breathless. She wasn't accusing you of an affair in the physical sense, but she was accusing you of an emotional migration. She spoke of the loneliness she felt even while sitting next to you, the sense that you were mentally drifting toward a version of yourself that only existed when you were talking to Anna. The anger was raw, born from a place of deep insecurity and a love that felt threatened by a ghost.

The silence that followed her outburst was deafening. You looked at your wife—really looked at her—and saw the genuine hurt behind the anger. The realization hit you with the force of a physical blow: in your quest to nurture a student's mind, you had neglected the heart of your home. The academic thrill of being admired by someone like Anna had blinded you to the slow erosion of the sanctuary you had once described as your anchor.

You didn't defend yourself. There were no arguments to be made about "professional mentorship" or "intellectual kinship" that could outweigh the tears now shimmering in your wife's eyes. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your voice cracking as you began to apologize. You begged for her forgiveness, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush, asking for *merci*—for mercy—on the only relationship that truly mattered. You held her hands, ignoring her initial attempts to pull away, and promised her that the boundaries would be rebuilt, stronger and more rigid than before.

"The syllabus is the law of the land, Anna. Please refer to the rubric for the grading criteria."

The words felt like cold stones being dropped into a well. You didn't look up from your desk as she stood there, her presence a fragrant, silent plea that used to make you smile. Now, it felt like a liability. You kept your gaze fixed on the stack of essays, the red pen in your hand acting as a barrier between your world and hers. The warmth that had once colored your interactions—the shared jokes about the Levant, the playful nudges about her overthinking—had been systematically replaced by a sterile, professional courtesy. You weren't being unkind; you were being a professor. And for Anna, that was the cruelest thing you could possibly be.

The digital tether was the first thing to snap. For weeks, the steady hum of her messages had been the background noise of your life, but now, the notifications sat unread for hours, then days. When you did reply, the poetic flourishes were gone. Her existential questions about the temporary nature of storms were met with concise, academic answers. *“It’s a common theme in Romanticism; perhaps you could explore that in your next paper,”* you wrote, effectively killing the intimacy of the conversation and relocating it to a grade book. You could almost feel her confusion through the screen, the way she must have stared at the blue bubbles, wondering which version of you had suddenly decided to vanish.

In the lecture hall, the choreography changed. You no longer lingered by her desk to discuss the nuances of maritime constraints. Instead, you began ending your classes with a brisk, "That's all for today," and moved toward the door before the first student could even stand up. You stopped catching her eye during your more passionate tangents. When she would raise her hand, her expression a mixture of hope and desperation, you would call on someone else—someone who didn't make your heart race with a mixture of guilt and nostalgia. You treated her like any other name on a roster, a tactical erasure that left her drifting in the periphery of your attention.

Anna didn't handle the silence with her usual grace. The quiet confidence she had carried since the first day of class began to fray at the edges. She still arrived early, but she no longer sat in the front row; she moved back, as if trying to gauge the exact distance at which you stopped noticing her. Her questions became shorter, stripped of their intellectual playfulness, and her gaze, once an invitation, became a haunting search for a sign that she still mattered. She began to linger even longer after class, her notebooks clutched to her chest like a shield, waiting for a moment of softness that never came.

Anna had stopped trying to win your heart through the archives; instead, she had decided to wage a war of attrition against your composure. She arrived at the lecture today wearing a white ribbed tank top that left very little to the imagination and a denim mini-skirt that seemed more suited for a beach club than a windowless history hall. She didn't sit in the back anymore. She had reclaimed the front row, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk, her chin resting in her palms, watching you with a predatory intensity. She knew exactly why you were staring at the whiteboard, your eyes fixed on a sentence about the Ottoman Empire as if it were the most fascinating piece of prose ever written. She could feel your avoidance, and to her, that tension was a different, more electric kind of intimacy.

More on :

He is Mine Ft Anna Meovv - Fluxy's Ko-fi Shop

Tanaka Anna x Male Reader

[flux1563]

Watch Party NBA Ft Gaeul

14k Words

Tags : 3 OC x Gaeul, creampie, squirting, BBC, Double Anal, Double Vagina, All Holes Filled, BBC

"If we keep staring at the luggage carousel this long, the bags are just going to start circling back to the beginning of the airport," Wonyoung said, leaning her head against the cold glass of the terminal window.

The airport was a chaotic pattern of rolling suitcases and distant announcements, a place where time seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously. For the five women gathered in a small, cautious huddle, the humidity of the city had already seeped through the sliding doors, clinging to their polished outfits. They had spent the last fourteen hours in a pressurized tube of silence and sleep-masks, crossing an ocean to reach a coast where everything felt scaled up by twenty percent. Even the signage seemed louder here, and the ceilings of the terminal vaulted upward into a dizzying expanse of steel and light.

"I think the black bags are the ones from the wardrobe stylists," Rei noted, pointing toward a mountain of oversized nylon cases that looked more like small tents than luggage. "Those are definitely ours."

Gaeul stepped forward to claim the first few bags, her movements efficient. They moved as a unit, a practiced choreography of coordination that had become second nature over years of stage performances. There was a lightness to their conversation, a shared excitement that hummed beneath the surface of their tired voices. They weren't here for a concert or a press junket, which lent a rare, relaxed quality to their energy. For once, the schedule wasn't dictated by a choreographer or a music producer, but by a simple invitation to experience something entirely different.

"I’m not sure if it’s the jet lag or the air, but everything here feels... amplified," Liz murmured, stretching her arms as they finally cleared the terminal. The transition from the sterile airport air to the waiting SUV felt like stepping into a different frequency. As they drove toward the arena, the city blurred past them in a smudge of neon and concrete, the skyline towering over them with a heavy, industrial confidence. They spoke in low, excited tones about the game, wondering if the players would actually be as tall as the highlight reels suggested.

The walk from the parking garage to the courtside seats was a gauntlet of flashing lights and booming voices. When they finally settled into their chairs, the scale of the arena hit them like a physical wave. The ceiling seemed to disappear into a haze of spotlights and hanging banners, creating a cavernous space that made their own presence feel suddenly, sharply diminished. They leaned into each other, shoulders brushing, as the crowd's roar vibrated through the floorboards and up into their chests.

Then, the players emerged for warm-ups.

Wonyoung blinked, her gaze traveling upward—and then upward again. "Are they... actually real?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the stadium music. A center drifted toward their section, his shadow stretching across the hardwood like a long, dark curtain. He wasn't just tall; he was a mountain of lean muscle and focused energy. Beside him, the point guards looked like giants, their movements fluid and explosive, occupying a physical space that seemed to defy the logic of the court.

"I feel like we're watching a movie in IMAX, but in real life," Liz whispered, tilting her head back so far that her ponytail nearly touched the seat behind her. She watched as a player executed a thunderous slam dunk during warm-ups, the rim shaking with a violent, metallic ring that echoed through the arena. The sheer force of the impact seemed to ripple through the air, a visceral display of power that made the girls instinctively lean back.

Rei reached over and lightly poked Gaeul’s arm. "Look at their hands," she murmured, pointing toward the players lining up for free throws. The basketball, which usually looked standard in their practice videos back home, seemed small—almost like a toy—nestled in the center of a palm that could likely cover a dinner plate. The contrast was startling; the players' fingers were long and tapered, yet the grip they held on the ball was absolute, a level of physical dominance that felt surreal from a few feet away.

As the first quarter began, the game shifted from a series of drills into a blur of high-velocity motion. The girls found themselves captivated not just by the score, but by the physics of the movement. They watched the way the players pivoted, their long limbs carving through the air with a grace that contradicted their size. Every time a center pivoted under the basket, the girls felt a collective sense of awe at the spatial geometry of the game; the players didn't just move around their opponents, they seemed to occupy the entire atmosphere of the paint.

During a brief timeout, a few of the players drifted toward the sidelines to catch their breath, bringing them within arm's reach of the IVE members. Up close, the scale was even more jarring. The players' jerseys were vast, the fabric stretching over shoulders that were broader than the seats the girls were sitting in. Wonyoung found herself glancing up at the nearest player, realizing that even while seated, she was nearly eye-level with his waist. She laughed softly, a genuine sound of amusement, as she realized how tiny her own handbag looked resting on her lap compared to the massive athletic sneakers just inches away.

The buzzer sounded with a final, jarring vibration that seemed to shake the very foundations of the arena. The scoreboard flashed a blinding victory, and as the crowd erupted into a deafening roar, the announcer’s voice boomed through the rafters, naming Jadon as the game’s MVP. He had spent the fourth quarter playing like a force of nature, gliding across the hardwood with a terrifyingly efficient grace, turning the game into his own personal highlight reel. After the final whistle, the court became a whirlwind of flashing cameras and microphones as the press swarmed him for the post-game interview. Jadon handled the attention with a humble, easy-going grin, his voice deep and resonant even through the stadium's lingering echo.

Once the reporters finally cleared a path, Jadon didn't head straight for the locker room. Instead, he pivoted, his oversized sneakers squeaking against the floor as he made a beeline for the courtside seats. As he approached, the girls felt a sudden shift in the air; it was as if a storm front had moved in, the sheer physical mass of the athlete blocking out the arena lights. He stopped in front of them, towering over them like a skyscraper of sweat-soaked jersey and muscle. He looked down at them with a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes, his presence filling the space between them with an unexpected gentleness.

"Thank you for coming out tonight," Jadon said, his voice a low, melodic rumble that seemed to vibrate in the girls' chests. "It’s not every day we have guests from across the world in the front row. I hope the game lived up to the hype for you all."

The girls were momentarily speechless, glancing up at him in a synchronized, wide-eyed fashion. Wonyoung was the first to recover, giggling as she looked up at the MVP. "The scale of everything is just... incredible," she admitted, gesturing vaguely toward the court. "We've seen the games on TV, but seeing you move in person is like watching something from another planet." Jadon laughed, a rich sound that seemed to shrink the distance between them, and for a few minutes, they fell into an easy, lighthearted conversation. He asked them about their journey from Korea and joked about how he hoped the jet lag wouldn't make them fall asleep during the next quarter, while the girls shared their genuine amazement at the sheer physicality of the NBA.

Throughout the chat, Jadon’s attention kept drifting back to Gaeul. While the other members were reacting with high energy, Gaeul had watched the game with a quiet, focused intensity, her eyes tracing the strategic movements of the players. She had asked him a specific question about the defensive rotation in the final two minutes—a detail that showed she hadn't just been watching the spectacle, but the craft. He looked at her, his expression shifting from polite host to genuine curiosity, noting the calm, steady way she held his gaze despite the massive height difference.

The conversation slowed for a heartbeat, the noise of the emptying arena fading into a dull hum around them. Jadon shifted his weight, leaning in slightly, though he still towered over her by nearly two feet. "You know, most people just talk about the dunks," he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more personal tone. "But you actually noticed the rotation. That’s rare."

He paused, a playful glint in his eye as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which looked like a miniature toy in his massive palm. He looked at Gaeul, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on the game—maybe over a meal that isn't stadium food. Would you mind giving me your number?"

Read More

Watch Party NBA ft Gaeul - Fluxy's Ko-fi Shop

Watch Party NBA ft Gaeul

[elryuse]

New Stuff

!SinB Bestiality Fic!

Tags : Bestiality, Animal-Human Sex, Mating, Curious Sex, Animal-Human Romance, Crazy, Copulating, Multiple Creampies, Horse-Human Sex, Interspecies Sex

Words : 5,908 Words

WARNING, This story Contains Bestiality. If You don't like or want to Read anything with this type of Kink, Please Skip this Story entirely. This story is a Commision for @sinbaddict Hope Yall Like it.

The rain hadn't let up for three days straight. SinB pressed her forehead against the cold glass of her bedroom window, watching water streak down in uneven ribbons. Outside, beyond the pasture fence, Thunder stood motionless under the old oak, his black coat glistening with moisture. Seventeen hands of muscle and patience. Her only company for the past two years, ever since Dad took the overseas contract and Mom retreated into her downtown apartment with the new boyfriend who didn't want "country baggage."

God, I'm fucking pathetic.

Twenty-two years old and her social circle consisted of a gelding who nickered when she brought apples. She'd tried the apps. Tried the community college mixers. But the silence always crept back in, thick and suffocating, and she'd find herself back at the fence line, fingers buried in Thunder's mane while he chewed contentedly.

The laptop glowed on her unmade bed, browser tabs multiplying like rabbits. What started as idle curiosity at 1 AM had spiraled. A forum thread titled "Confessions You Can't Say Out Loud" had caught her eye on some anonymous imageboard. Women—dozens of them—describing things SinB had never allowed herself to imagine. Explicit things. Detailed things. Things that made her thighs press together before she even realized what she was doing.

They can't all be making it up.

Her fingers trembled as she typed. The search bar filled with words that made her stomach flip. Videos appeared. Thumbnails she couldn't look away from. She clicked one.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

The sound that escaped her wasn't disgust. It was something else entirely. Something that settled low in her belly and pulsed.

She watched three more. Then five. By 3 AM, her pajama shorts were discarded on the floor and her hand moved with practiced rhythm between her legs, the slick, wet shlick-shlick-shlick filling the dark room as she stared at the screen, mouth slightly open, pupils blown wide.

"Oh fuck," she whispered, not to anyone. Just to the night. Just to the need coiling tight inside her.

The next morning came gray and humid. SinB stood at the kitchen counter, coffee untouched, staring out at the pasture. Thunder had wandered closer to the barn, tail swishing at flies. Perfectly innocent. Perfectly unaware of what his owner had been doing until the early hours.

It's just a fantasy. Everyone has weird fantasies. Doesn't mean I'd actually—

But the thought wouldn't finish. Because underneath the shame was something hungrier. Something that remembered how those women had sounded in the videos. The way their voices cracked and soared. The way they'd moaned like nothing else existed in the world except the feeling of being stretched full.

"Mmmngh." SinB pressed her palms against her eyes. "Get it together."

The day dragged. She went through the motions—mucked the stall, checked the water trough, measured out feed. Every time Thunder shifted his weight, every time his tail flicked against his hindquarters, she looked. And then looked away. And then looked again.

By evening, the decision had made itself. Not consciously. Not with any clear moment of choice. Her body just started moving differently. Slower. More deliberate. She put on the sundress instead of jeans. The one with the thin straps that slipped off her shoulder if she wasn't careful. No bra. The fabric whispered against her nipples as she walked and they stiffened in response, pebbled peaks visible through the cotton.

What are you doing. What the fuck are you doing.

The barn smelled of hay and musk and the warm, earthy scent of horse. Thunder turned his massive head when she entered, ears pricking forward. SinB's heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat, a rapid thump-thump-thump that made her dizzy.

"Hey, boy," she managed, voice cracking. "Just me."

Her hand found his neck, stroking the coarse hair in long, slow passes. He blew out a breath, lips fluttering. Calm. Trusting.

He's huge. He could hurt me without even meaning to.

Thunder shifted, and she saw it. The black sheath against his belly, and beneath it, starting to descend, the tip emerging. Pink and foreign and already thicker than her wrist. SinB's breath caught. A tremor ran from her scalp down to her toes.

"This is insane," she said out loud, but her hand was already moving lower, tracing the curve of his flank. The muscle twitched under her palm.

She'd seen it before, of course. Years of grooming, of casual proximity. But she'd never looked at it like this. Never let herself register the sheer impossible size of what a horse carried between its legs. The tip continued to emerge, glistening with moisture, and SinB dropped to her knees in the straw without deciding to. Her sundress pooled around her thighs. The straw pricked her skin.

"Glrk." The sound came from her own throat, involuntary, as she wrapped both hands around the shaft. Her fingers didn't meet. Couldn't. The flesh was hot and surprisingly soft, velvet over iron, and it pulsed against her palms with his heartbeat. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she chanted, not pulling away. Not even considering it.

Thunder snorted but didn't move. His tail swished once, twice. Then stilled.

SinB leaned closer. The musk was overwhelming now, thick and animal and somehow not unpleasant at all. Her mouth watered. She pressed her lips to the tip and the taste flooded her senses—salt and earth and something primal she had no name for. Her tongue darted out, lapping at the bead of clear fluid that welled from the slit.

Slrk. Slrrrk.

Her jaw ached as she opened wider, trying to take just the head into her mouth. It stretched her lips obscenely, the corners burning with the strain. Her tongue flattened against the underside, tracing the ridge, and Thunder's weight shifted. He nickered low in his chest, a sound she'd never heard before.

"You like that?" she murmured against his flesh, half-delirious. "You like my fucking mouth on your cock?"

The vulgarity felt good. Liberating. The words she'd only ever typed or thought now spoken aloud to her only companion, her only—fuck, was he her lover now? Was this what they were?

She worked her hands up and down the shaft while her mouth focused on the tip, spit running freely down her chin, dripping audibly onto the straw below. Schlp. Schlp. Schlllp. The sounds were obscene and she loved them. Loved how wet she was getting just from this, her cunt clenching around nothing, her arousal soaking through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Need more," she gasped, pulling back. A string of saliva connected her lower lip to the cockhead, stretching thin before snapping. "Need you inside me, Thunder. Please."

She stood on shaky legs and turned around, bending forward to brace her hands on a hay bale. The dress she hiked up over her hips with trembling fingers. No panties—she hadn't bothered putting them on. Her pussy was exposed to the warm barn air, lips swollen and slick, the scent of her desire mingling with the horse's musk.

Splortch.

Thunder nudged forward, the blunt tip of his cock sliding through her slick folds. Not penetrating yet. Just exploring. Just painting her with his own wetness. SinB whimpered, pushing back.

"Right there. Fuck, please, right fucking—"

The head caught. And then sank in.

Shluuuurk.

The sound of her body stretching to accommodate him was louder than anything she'd ever heard. Louder than the rain. Louder than her own screaming heartbeat. Her cunt resisted, then yielded, inner walls gripping and spasming as inch after impossible inch pushed deeper.

"Hnnnngh—oh—oh god—" Her knuckles went white on the hay bale. Her vision blurred. Every nerve ending in her body had relocated to that single point of entry, that ring of muscle being forced wider than it had ever imagined possible.

It hurt. It felt like being split in half. But underneath the pain was pleasure so intense she couldn't breathe through it, something building and building with every pulse of that massive cock inside her.

Thunder made a sound deep in his chest and pushed again. Deeper. So deep she swore she could feel him in her throat. Her belly bulged slightly, a visible ridge when she looked down, and the sight made her moan like a wounded thing.

Squelch. Gurgle. Splortch.

The rhythm built slowly. Horse and woman found it together—his instinct, her desperation. Each thrust forced more of him inside, stretching her cunt in ways human fingers and toys never could. The wet sounds of their coupling echoed off the barn walls, a symphony of slick flesh and animal need.

"Fuck me," SinB sobbed. "Fuck me, oh fuck, don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"

Her orgasm hit without warning. One moment she was climbing, the next she was crashing, her pussy clamping down on Thunder's cock with rhythmic, milking pulses that made her scream. Squirt—splrk—squiiiirt. Fluid gushed from her, drenching his shaft, splattering onto the straw, running in rivulets down her thighs. She'd never come so hard in her life, and he wasn't even finished.

Thunder's pace quickened. His breathing grew harsher, great bellows of air that stirred the loose straw around them. The base of his cock began to swell, a flare that pressed against her stretched entrance with impossible pressure.

SinB's eyes widened. "Wait—what—"

The knot pushed past her lips and locked them together. Tied. Stuck. The realization made her moan again, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with the aftershocks still rippling through her.

Gllllrrrk.

He was going to come inside her. Fill her with seed meant for a mare, breed her until it dripped from her used cunt and pooled on the floor. The thought was terrifying. The thought was everything she'd been searching for since she'd first clicked on that video.

"Please," she whispered, and the word broke open, raw and true. "Please, yes. Fill me up. Pump me full of your fucking cum. I want it. I want it so bad—"

Thunder grunted, a sound that shook through his entire massive frame and into her, through the place they were joined. The first pulse of his release hit her cervix like a liquid fist, hot and thick and endless. Pulse after pulse, stream after stream, the horse emptied himself inside her willing body while SinB hung there impaled, mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy.

Shlosh. Shlosh. Spluuurt.

The knot was still buried deep inside her, a thick, pulsing anchor that locked her to Thunder's massive body. SinB's fingers clawed at the hay bale, splinters digging under her nails as another surge of hot seed flooded her already stuffed cunt. The sensation was obscene—a wet, internal shloooosh that made her stomach feel heavy and full.

"Oh fuck," she whimpered, voice hoarse from screaming. "Oh fuck, there's so much."

Thunder's cock twitched again. Pulse. Pulse. Splurt. More cum, thick and ropey, painting her inner walls white. She could feel it sloshing inside her with every tiny movement, could hear the faint glrrrk of fluid shifting in her distended belly. The base of his shaft remained swollen, plugging her entrance so effectively that not a single drop leaked past.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer. SinB lost track of time, suspended in a haze of endorphins and animal musk. Her sundress was a crumpled mess around her waist, sweat-soaked and streaked with straw dust. Her thighs trembled, glazed with a mix of her own arousal and the thin rivulets of fluid that had escaped during their initial coupling.

Thunder snorted, shifting his weight. The movement tugged at her stretched cunt and she gasped, a fresh jolt of pleasure-pain zinging up her spine.

"Easy, boy," she breathed. "Easy."

But even as she said it, her hips pushed back against him. An involuntary twitch. A silent plea for more. Her pussy clenched around his still-hard shaft, and SinB bit her lip hard enough to taste copper.

He's still hard. After all that, he's still fucking hard.

The knowledge ignited something dangerous in her chest. All those videos she'd watched, all those forum posts she'd devoured—they'd mentioned this. Stallions could go multiple times. Could breed for hours. Could fill a mare over and over until she was swimming in seed.

Glrrrk.

Thunder's knot began to shrink. Slowly. Incrementally. SinB felt every millimeter of its retreat, the way her abused hole tried to close behind it and couldn't, gaped wide and dripping. When the flare finally popped free with a wet schlorp, a flood of cum gushed out of her, splattering onto the straw in thick white ropes.

"No, no, no—" She reached back with one hand, frantically trying to press the spend back inside, fingers sliding through the mess. "Stay in me, fuck, stay inside—"

Her cunt clenched. More cum oozed past her fingers, running down her wrist. The loss felt catastrophic, like watching water drain from a canteen in the desert. She needed it. Needed to be full. The emptiness was unbearable now that she knew what being filled felt like.

SinB pushed herself upright on shaking legs. Turned around. Thunder's cock was still fully extended, glistening with their mixed fluids, the dark flesh veined and impossibly thick. The sight made her mouth water again, made her pussy flutter with want despite the ache.

"One round isn't enough," she said, and her voice sounded strange to her own ears—lower, huskier, stripped of the nervous girl who'd walked into this barn. "One round is never gonna be fucking enough."

She grabbed the curry comb from its hook on the stall wall. Ran it over Thunder's flank in long, soothing strokes. The horse's ear flicked back toward her, and he made a low sound of contentment.

"That's it. That's my good boy. Just relax while I—" she swallowed hard, "—while I get you ready again."

The grooming was as much for her as for him. The repetitive motion steadied her trembling hands. Gave her time to think. To plan. She'd dreamed about this, hadn't she? In the dark of her bedroom, three fingers buried in her cunt, she'd imagined being used over and over. Being nothing but a warm hole to fill. Being bred until her body couldn't take any more.

And now she could have it. All she had to do was keep him interested.

SinB dropped the curry comb. Moved around to Thunder's head, pressing her forehead to his broad nose. His breath was warm on her face, smelling of hay and sweet feed.

"You're not done with me yet," she whispered. "I'm gonna make sure you can fuck me all night. Gonna be your personal cumdump. Would you like that, baby? Huh?"

Thunder nickered softly.

She took it as a yes.

The first thing she did was bring water. A bucket of cool, clean water that she held up to Thunder's muzzle while he drank, her other hand stroking the coarse hair of his neck. His cock had retracted slightly during the grooming, sheathed itself in that black pouch of skin, but she knew how to coax it back out.

"Drink up," she murmured. "You're gonna need your energy."

When he'd had his fill, SinB set the bucket aside and turned her attention to the matter at hand. She dropped to her knees in the straw again—the same spot, still damp with her juices and his cum—and reached between his hind legs.

Shliiick.

Her fingers found the sheath, warm and slightly tacky with dried fluid. She wrapped her hand around it, squeezing gently, and Thunder's weight shifted. His tail lifted.

"That's it," she cooed. "That's my fucking boy."

The tip emerged. Pink. Glossy. SinB leaned in and took it into her mouth without hesitation this time. The taste was saltier now, mixed with the remnants of her own cunt, and she moaned around the flesh as her tongue worked the sensitive ridge.

Slrk. Slrrrrrk. Mmmnnnph.

Her jaw ached from earlier, but she pushed past it. Relaxed her throat like she'd read about. Took him deeper, deeper, until her nose pressed against the warm skin of his sheath and her eyes watered from the fullness.

"Glrk—glrrrk—" The sounds were animal. She was making animal sounds now, spit and pre-cum bubbling at the corners of her stretched lips, dripping in long strands down her chin and onto her bare breasts. Her nipples were hard as pebbles, dark against the pale swell of her chest, and she reached up with her free hand to pinch one, hard, making herself moan around the cock in her throat.

Thunder's hips bucked. The movement was slight but it pushed another inch into her mouth and SinB gagged, throat spasming around the intrusion. She pulled back, coughing, spit flying.

"Fuck—okay—okay, slow down, I've got you—"

But her cunt was dripping again. The gagging had made her wetter, somehow. Her body had interpreted the struggle as more foreplay, more preparation, and when she looked down at herself she could see her arousal glistening on her inner thighs, fresh and slick.

He could hurt me. He could shove too deep and tear something and I'd be bleeding out in the straw and nobody would find me for days—

The thought made her pussy clench.

She was so far past the point of caring.

"Screw it," she muttered, and climbed to her feet.

The hay bale wasn't enough this time. She needed something more stable. Something that would let her ride him properly, control the depth and pace while she milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

The mounting block.

It sat in the corner of the barn, a three-step wooden platform she used for saddling. SinB dragged it into the center of the aisle, her arm muscles burning with the effort. The wood scraped against the floor, raising dust, and Thunder watched her with calm dark eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, laughing a little hysterically. "Like I'm crazy. You're the one who just fucked your owner's brains out."

She positioned the block near his hindquarters. Climbed onto the top step. From this height, she could lean back against Thunder's flank and line herself up perfectly, her spread thighs level with his cock.

Shluiiick.

The sound of her fingers parting her pussy lips was obscenely loud in the quiet barn. She was so swollen down there, so wet and open, her cunt a gaping, hungry mouth that drooled clear fluid onto the wooden block.

"Right here, baby," she breathed, reaching back with her other hand to grip his shaft. "Right fucking here."

She guided the tip to her entrance. Pressed down. And sank onto him with a wet, sucking shlllloooooorp that echoed off the rafters.

"HUUUUUNGH—"

The penetration was so much deeper from this angle. His cock speared up into her, past her cervix, into places she didn't know she had. SinB's head snapped back, dark hair cascading down her spine, mouth open in a soundless scream. Her inner walls stretched around him, gripping and releasing in rhythmic spasms, trying desperately to accommodate the impossible girth.

"Fuck me," she gasped, when speech returned. "Fuck me, look at my belly, fucking LOOK at it—"

She grabbed her sundress, yanked it up higher, stared down at the obscene bulge distending her lower abdomen. The outline of his cock was visible through her skin, a thick ridge that moved when she shifted her hips.

Squelch. Shlorp. Splrtch.

Slowly, she began to move. Lifting herself up until only the head remained inside her stretched cunt, then dropping back down, taking all of him at once. The wet sounds of their fucking filled the barn, a lewd symphony accompanied by her breathless moans.

"Oh—oh god—you're so deep—Thunder, baby, you're so fucking deep—"

She braced her hands on his flank, using the solid muscle for leverage as she bounced on his cock. Her breasts swung with the motion, nipples catching the cool barn air, and she wished for a moment that someone could see her like this. That someone could witness the farmer's daughter, the lonely virgin farm girl, riding her horse's cock like a common whore while she babbled obscenities into the hay-scented dark.

"Wanted this for so long," she panted. "Wanted a big cock to fill me up, wanted to be split open, wanted to be bred like a fucking animal—"

Sspssspsssst.

His pre-cum was mixing with her juices now, creating a slick, frothy lube that made the glide smoother. Faster. SinB increased her pace, thighs burning with the effort, using every ounce of farm-bred strength to fuck herself on his shaft.

"Gonna make you come again," she grunted. "Gonna make you fill me up until I can't hold any more. Until my fucking womb is drowning in it."

Thunder's breathing was getting heavier. She could feel his ribcage expanding against her back, could hear the great bellows of air rushing through his nostrils. His cock was swelling again, that tell-tale flare beginning to form at the base.

"Yes—yes—give me that knot—I want it—fucking give it to me—"

She slammed herself down one more time and the knot pushed past her lips with a meaty pop. Locked them together. She was impaled, stuck, and the sensation triggered a fresh wave of pleasure that had her clawing at Thunder's flank and screaming.

Hrrrrnnnnggghhhh—

The second orgasm rolled through her in waves. Her pussy clamped down on the knot like a fist, milking it, demanding what it had to give. And Thunder gave it. His release came in hot, thick pulses, each one audible— splurt, splurt, SPLUUUURT —as he pumped his seed directly into her waiting womb.

"Yesssss," SinB hissed. "Yesssss, fill me, breed me, pump me fucking full—"

She could feel it pooling inside her. The warmth spreading through her lower belly. The pressure building as more and more cum flooded her already stuffed cunt. When she looked down again, her stomach was visibly distended, round and taut like she was three months pregnant.

"That's it," she cooed, stroking his flank with trembling hands. "That's so much cum, baby. So much good fucking cum for your girl."

Shloooosh. Gurgle. Splsssh.

Thunder kept releasing. Long after a human man would have been spent, the horse continued to empty himself inside her. SinB lost count of the pulses. Lost track of time entirely. She just hung there on his knot, limp and sated, while her body was used as a receptacle for his endless seed.

At some point, she started laughing. Soft, delirious giggles that shook her shoulders and made the cum slosh inside her.

"I'm such a fucking mess," she whispered. "I'm a cum-filled, cock-stuffed, animal-fucking mess and I never want to be anything else."

When the knot finally receded and Thunder's cock slipped out of her, the flood that followed was catastrophic. Cum poured from her gaping cunt in thick white waterfalls, splattering onto the mounting block, running down the wooden steps in rivulets. She tried to hold it in—clenched as hard as she could—but her muscles were too exhausted, too stretched, and the seed just kept coming.

Floooosh. Splrrtch. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Shit," she muttered, watching the growing puddle beneath her. "Gonna need to clean that up later."

But not yet. Not now. Because even though Thunder had just come twice, even though his cock was finally beginning to retract into its sheath, SinB wasn't satisfied. The hunger was still there, gnawing at her insides, demanding more-more-more.

Third time's the charm.

She climbed off the mounting block on wobbly legs, cum still trickling down her thighs. Her sundress was ruined—soaked through with fluids and sweat—so she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. Naked now, except for the straw clinging to her damp skin and the sheen of horse cum coating her lower body.

Thunder was watching her. His dark eyes followed her movements as she walked—no, swaggered—to the feed room, her bare ass swaying with each step. She could feel his gaze on her, and the thought made her skin prickle with heat.

"Don't go anywhere," she called over her shoulder. "Mama's just getting some supplies."

The feed room was small and dusty, filled with burlap sacks of grain and the sweet smell of molasses. SinB grabbed a handful of sweet feed—the kind laced with molasses and vitamins, the kind that made Thunder practically drool—and returned to the barn aisle.

"Look what I've got," she sang, holding out her palm. "Your favorite."

Thunder's ears pricked forward. His massive head swung toward her, nostrils flaring as he caught the scent. The soft velvet of his muzzle brushed against her palm as he lipped up the treat, leaving a trail of warm slobber on her skin.

"That's my good boy. Such a good fucking boy." She scratched behind his ear, pressing her naked body against his shoulder. Her breasts flattened against the coarse black hair, nipples catching on the strands, and she shivered at the sensation. "You want more? Huh? You want to fuck me again?"

Slrrrp. His tongue dragged across her palm, searching for any last trace of molasses.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She had a plan now. A delicious, filthy plan that had her cunt dripping fresh arousal onto the barn floor. One of the videos she'd watched had featured a woman on her hands and knees in a pasture, and SinB had come so hard to that visual that she'd nearly passed out. Something about being on all fours, naked in the dirt, presenting herself like a mare in heat—it spoke to a part of her psychology she hadn't known existed.

The barn door creaked as she pushed it open. Outside, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the world wet and glistening under a blanket of stars. The grass squelched under her bare feet as she walked to the small paddock adjacent to the barn—an enclosed space where Thunder could move freely without wandering too far.

"Come on, baby," she called, and Thunder followed. Of course he followed. He trusted her completely, this massive animal who could kill her with a single kick. The thought made her heart swell with something that felt dangerously close to love.

In the paddock, the ground was softer. Mud and grass and the clean scent of rain-washed earth. SinB dropped to her hands and knees under the open sky, the mud cool against her shins. She was facing away from Thunder, presenting her ass to him like an offering, and the vulnerability of the position made her pulse race.

Schpsssh.

Her pussy was already drooling. A string of clear fluid stretched from her swollen lips to the mud below, catching the starlight. When she reached back and spread herself open with two fingers, the wet sound was loud in the quiet night.

"See that?" she called over her shoulder. "See how wet I am for you? This cunt is yours. Fucking yours. Come and take it."

Thunder's ears swiveled forward. She watched him approach from the corner of her eye—seventeen hands of muscle and instinct, his cock already emerging from its sheath, glistening and ready. The sight of it, the sheer impossible size of it, made her mouth fall open and a thin whine escape from her throat.

"That's it. Come here. Come fuck your girl."

His muzzle nudged her shoulder first. A gentle touch, almost questioning. SinB reached up and stroked his nose, pressing a kiss to the velvet softness.

"I want this. I want you. Please, Thunder."

His cock found her entrance on its own, guided by scent and heat and the primal drive to mate. The tip pressed against her swollen folds, sliding up through her slickness, catching briefly on her clit. SinB's arms nearly buckled.

"Yes—right there—"

Schluuuurk.

He pushed in. One long, smooth thrust that buried half his length inside her in a single motion. The sound was wetter now, messier, her cunt still full of his previous loads and her own juices. Cum squelched out around his shaft, splattering onto the mud between her knees.

"OH—FUCK—OH—"

Somehow, impossibly, he felt even bigger in this position. Gravity wedded his cock deeper into her body with every thrust, the angle forcing him against places inside her that hadn't been stimulated yet. A spot high up, near her cervix, that made white light explode behind her eyes every time he hit it.

Squelch. Splrtch. Schlllp. Schlllp. Schlllp.

The rhythm was faster now. More urgent. Thunder had learned her body in the span of two rounds, knew how deep to go, knew what made her scream. His hooves churned the mud as he pistoned into her, his massive body dwarfing her, making her feel small and fragile and utterly, completely dominated.

"Yeah—yeah—fuck me—fuck your little human whore—breed your fucking cumslut—"

The words were filthy. They spilled out of her without thought, without filter, all the porn she'd consumed and all the fantasies she'd nurtured finally finding voice. She was drooling into the mud, drooling and moaning and pushing back against each thrust, meeting him halfway.

"Gonna be your broodmare—gonna let you knock me up—gonna carry your fucking foal—"

A particularly deep thrust stole her breath. Her arms gave out and she face-planted into the mud, ass still high in the air, still being fucked with relentless precision. The muck was cold against her cheek, smelled of earth and rain, and she didn't care. Didn't care about anything except the cock splitting her open and the knot that was starting to swell again.

Splrtch—squelch—gurgle—

The sounds of their coupling had become a language. SinB could read the approach of his orgasm in the way the squelches got wetter, more frantic, in the way his breathing changed and his hooves stamped harder into the mud.

"Give it to me," she begged, voice muffled by the dirt. "Fill me up again. Pump me so full I can taste it."

KNOT.

The flare locked past her entrance with a wet, sucking pop that her body felt more than heard. And then the release—God, the release—hot and thick and so fucking abundant. Spluuurt. Shloooosh. Splsssssh. Pulse after pulse of seed flooding into her, mixing with the cum already there, overfilling her until—

Glrrrk.

It started leaking out. Even with the knot plugging her hole, there was too much. A thin trickle of white escaped around the seal, running down her inner thigh in a warm rivulet. The pressure in her belly was immense, a delicious fullness that made her feel heavy and claimed and utterly satisfied.

"More," SinB whispered into the mud. "Please. More."

And Thunder gave more.

Round three bled into round four. Round four became round five. SinB lost count somewhere around the time Thunder's cum started dripping from her nose—she'd sneezed after inhaling some straw dust and the next thing she knew, white fluid was running over her upper lip. She licked it clean without thinking, swallowing the salty-bitter taste.

They'd moved back to the barn sometime around dawn. The gray light was filtering through the cracks in the walls, dust motes dancing in the pale beams. SinB was draped over a hay bale for the—fifth time? Sixth? Her body had become a vessel, a receptacle, a warm hole for Thunder's endless need.

Shlooop. Schlorp. Drip.

His cock slid out of her once more, followed by the now-familiar flood of cum. But this time, when she looked down at herself, what she saw made her moan out loud.

Her belly was round. Actually, visibly round. The skin was stretched taut over her abdomen, the indent of her navel nearly flattened. She looked four months pregnant—maybe five—and when she pressed a hand to the swell, she could feel the fluid shifting inside her.

Slossssh.

"Holy fuck," she breathed. "I'm full. I'm actually fucking full."

She pressed harder and cum gushed out of her cunt, a thick white waterfall that pooled on the hay bale and dripped onto the floor. But even after the gush, her belly was still round. Still heavy. The rest had settled deeper inside her, in her womb, in places she couldn't push out no matter how hard she tried.

Bred. Fully bred.

Thunder was finally, finally showing signs of exhaustion. His cock had retreated into its sheath, and he was standing with one hind leg cocked, head drooping. When SinB staggered over to him on unsteady legs, he blew a soft breath into her hair.

"Good boy," she murmured, pressing her forehead to his muzzle. "Good fucking boy. You did so good. Gave me so much cum."

The barn smelled of sex. Overwhelmingly so. The sweet-musk scent of horse mixed with the tang of semen and the earthy smell of her own arousal. Every surface seemed to glisten with fluid—her thighs, the straw, the mounting block, the hay bale, the dirt floor of the paddock visible through the open barn door.

SinB should have been disgusted. Should have been horrified at what she'd done, at the mess she'd made, at the perversion she'd become.

Instead, she felt something she hadn't felt in years.

Full.

Not just physically—though God, was she physically full—but emotionally. The hollow ache that had lived in her chest since her father left, since her mother chose the city over her, since every friend she'd ever had drifted away into their own adult lives—that ache was quiet now. Muffled. Buried under layers of animal affection and the bone-deep satisfaction of being used completely.

"I love you," she told Thunder. The words came out cracked but sincere. "You're the only one who's ever been here for me. The only one who stayed."

His tail swished lazily.

She cleaned up eventually. Sort of. Grabbed a bucket of water and a rag and wiped down the worst of the mess—the mounting block, the hay bale, her own cum-slick skin. The fluid that had pooled on the barn floor she covered with fresh straw. It would dry. It would all dry, and nobody would ever know.

Nobody except her.

And she'd know forever.

SinB pulled on a clean pair of overalls from the laundry room, leaving the ruined sundress crumpled in a corner. Her hair was a disaster—tangled, straw-studded, stiff with dried fluids in places—but she couldn't summon the energy to wash it. Later. She'd shower later.

Right now, she needed to lie down.

She curled up in the empty stall next to Thunder's, burrowing into a pile of clean straw. He was on the other side of the wood divider, close enough that she could hear his steady breathing, close enough that if she reached through the slats she could touch his flank.

"Goodnight, baby," she whispered.

Thunder nickered softly.

Her hand drifted to her stomach. Still round. Still full. When she pressed down gently, she could feel the liquid shift inside her, a warm and pleasant weight. She imagined what it would be like if it took. If somehow, impossibly, her body adapted and a seed found purchase. A hybrid. A miracle. A permanent reminder of what she'd done and who she'd done it with.

The thought should have terrified her.

Instead, as sleep pulled her under, SinB smiled.

[lone-esper]

The Star Student: Summer (odd Youth)

[Commission Me Here!]

Lee Eunseo/Summer (Odd Youth) × Male Reader

NSFW, Smut, Teacher-Student, Barely Legal, Unprotected Sex

5,985 Words

Here is the legal version of our underrated girly. Their newest comeback is pretty good if anyone wants new stuff to listen to.

You remember the first day you met Lee Eunseo, or Summer as her friends insisted on calling her, even though you still couldn't figure out why. As her homeroom teacher at the high school, it was your job to know every student, but that nickname stuck out like a sore thumb.

She was an 18-year-old bundle of energy — cheerful, friendly, always flashing that bright smile that lit up the classroom. But damn, her studies? They were a disaster. Tests came back with scores that made you wince, and she just shrugged it off with a giggle, saying school wasn't her thing.

You weren't having it, though. As her teacher, you took it upon yourself to help her out, scheduling extra sessions after school or whenever you both had a free slot. At first, it was a slog. Summer showed up to those sessions looking bored as hell, doodling in her notebook instead of paying attention, her short skirt riding up a little as she fidgeted in the chair across from you.

"Come on, Summer," you say, trying to keep your voice stern but patient. "You gotta focus if you want to pass this semester."

She pouted, those big doe eyes of hers locking onto yours. "But seonsaengnim, it's sooooo boring. Can't we make it fun or something?"

You shake your head, pushing the textbooks closer. "Not until you show me you're trying." But she was lazy as fuck about it, barely scratching the surface of the material.

That's when you made the promise. It slipped out one afternoon in the empty classroom, after another half-assed session. "Look, if you ace the upcoming exam, even just a solid improvement—I'll let you ask me for anything. Deal?"

Her eyes lit up like Christmas morning. "Really? Anything?" You nodded, thinking it was just motivation, maybe a trip to the mall for ice cream or something innocent.

Surprisingly, shit changed. Her grade on that exam wasn't flying colors, but it was worlds better than before, enough to make you beam with pride. "Well done, Eunseo-ya, you did it! I'm so proud of you." You high-fived her, feeling that rush of accomplishment as her teacher.

Your private tutoring had paid off big time, and you couldn't help but feel a little smug about it. She hugged you right there in the classroom, her perky tits pressing your chest for a split second too long, that sweet scent of hers, sweet and something fruity, hitting your nose.

And then she cashed in her prize. "Teacher, remember that promise? I want to ask for something..." Your eyebrows shot up as she whispered it, her cheeks flushing. You weren't expecting that—a taboo request from this seemingly innocent girl.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing your arm. "You've helped me so much... I want to make you feel good. Like, really good. Teach me something new, too? This kind of lesson?"

You stared at her, your cock twitching in your pants despite yourself. She was pretty, with that slender body, long dark hair, and a lewd demeanor on her daily basis that made your resolve crumble. You didn't have the will to push her away, not when she was offering herself up like that.

"Yah, Eunseo... are you…" You muttered, but she just nodded eagerly, her fingers already tugging at your belt. That was two months ago, and since then, you've been tangled in this secret affair, fucking her brains out in empty classrooms, the storage closet, even the toilet after school.

Now, here you are, pulled back to the present by her voice. You're sitting in the science lab during recess, the door locked tight, but your mind is wandering. Summer is kneeling between your spread legs, your pants yanked down around your ankles with one foot kicked free.

Her small hands are wrapped around your thick cock, stroking it slowly, making it throb and leak precum right in front of her cute face. Her shirt was unbuttoned from the top, those perky tits spilling out from her bra, nipples hard. Her blazer and tie are tossed aside somewhere on the floor.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, her voice all sweet and teasing as she looks up at you with those wide eyes. "You look so lost while a cute girl is right here in front of you."

You glance down at her, your cock jumping in her grip. She's licking the underside now, wet tongue dragging along the veiny length, making you hiss through your teeth. "I was just remembering how this all started. That promise I made."

She giggles. "Yeah, that promise led us here, didn't it? I asked for something so filthy... and you gave in." Her tongue swirls around the slit, lapping up the precum like it's candy. "Do you regret it? Doing this with me, teacher?"

You shake your head, groaning as she strokes you faster. "No, I don't regret a thing. Just a little anxious because you always take your sweet time with my cock."

Summer looks around the empty lab, her eyes crinkling. "Nobody's gonna come in here during recess. So relax and let me enjoy my treat, okay?"

You lean back in the chair, chuckling low as you spread your thighs even wider, shoving your full, hard cock right toward her face. "Fine, Summer. Do whatever you want.” You don't think you can stop her anyway and not like you want to.

She beams up at you, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yay!" And with that, she dives back in, her lips parting to take the head of your cock into her warm, wet mouth, sucking eagerly while her hands pump the base.

She starts sucking hard, hollowing out her cheeks like she's trying to milk you dry. You groan, your hand tangles in her long dark hair, not guiding her, just holding on as she bobs her head forward. She takes more, inch by inch, her small hands stroking the base where her mouth can't reach.

"Mmmph," she hums around your shaft, the vibration sending a jolt straight to your balls, making them tighten.

She picks up the pace, her head moving faster now, saliva starting to dribble from the corners of her lips as she pushes deeper. You feel the back of her throat hit the head of your cock, and she gags hard. It's a wet, choking sound that fills the empty science lab, her eyes watering as tears prick at the corners, but she doesn't stop.

Instead, she forces herself further, her nose almost brushing your pelvis as she deepthroats you fully, her throat constricting around your cock in a way that makes your vision blur. Drool pours out now, thick strands hanging from her lips and splattering onto her perky tits, soaking through her bra.

She's a mess already, but neither of you gives a shit—there are sinks in the lab, right? You can clean up later, wipe away the evidence with paper towels and water, no big deal.

"Eunseo-ya, you're so good," you rasp, your hips twitching as she holds you there, gagging again and again, her throat spasming like it's trying to swallow your cock whole. She pulls back just enough to gasp for air, a string of spit connecting her lips to your glistening cock, and then she's back at it, deepthroating you again.

Her hands squeeze your thighs for leverage, nails digging in a little as she works you over, edging you closer with every sloppy plunge. She's teasing you, building that pressure in your core little by little, sucking harder on the upstroke, licking the underside on the way down, but never quite letting you tip over the edge.

She gags loudly this time, her body jerking as she fights the reflex, more drool cascading down her chin and onto her exposed cleavage. "Guhk... guhk..." The sounds are filthy, echoing off the lab tables, and her throat bulging from the outside as she takes you deep.

Tears stream down her cheeks now, mixing with the spit, making her mascara run just a tad, but she looks up at you with those watery eyes, all lust and determination. Her shirt is getting soaked, the saliva dripping onto her stomach, but she doesn't care. She can just button up and throw her blazer over it later, hiding the mess from any prying eyes in the hallway.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of her edging you - bringing you right to the brink with that tight throat before pulling back to suck just the head, swirling her tongue around the slit to lap up more precum - she initiates something new.

As she deepthroats you again, gagging wetly, she moans out around your cock, her voice muffled but clear: "Mmm, Daddy... you like that?" The word hits you like a punch, sensually rolling off her tongue as she pulls back slightly, drooling from her lips to your shaft. "Daddy, your cock feels so big in my throat... gahk... I love choking on it for you."

Your eyes widen, a fresh wave of arousal crashing over you. "Summer... fuck, calling me that?" you groan, but she just nods eagerly, her head still bobbing as she takes you deep, gagging harder this time, more spit flying everywhere. "Yes, Daddy... let me make you feel good, okay? I wanna be your good girl."

She slows down just as you feel that telltale tightening in your balls, pulling back to suckle on the head, her tongue flicking the sensitive underside while her hand pumps the shaft slick with her saliva. Drool coats everything now—her chin, her neck, her tits—pooling on the floor beneath her knees.

She deepthroats you once more, holding it longer this time, her throat milking you as she gags repeatedly, wet slurps, choked gasps, the occasional pop as she pulls off for air.

"Daddy... you're throbbing so much," she pants, her voice hoarse from the effort, saliva dripping from her mouth. "I can feel you getting close... but not yet, right?"

And she does, speeding up her strokes with her hand while her mouth focuses on the tip, sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge before stopping, squeezing the base of your cock to hold back your orgasm. You hiss, your body tensing, but she just smiles up at you through the mess, her face glistening. "Daddy, hold it for me, okay?"

The edging continues, relentless and teasing. She dives back in, gagging so hard that her whole body shakes, drool spraying onto your thighs and the chair. "Guhk– Daddy, gosh... your cock is stretching my throat," she whimpers when she pulls off, gasping, before dropping back down. Your precum is leaking steadily now, mixing with her spit, making everything slick and sloppy.

She's a vision kneeling there, shirt unbuttoned, bra half-soaked, hair disheveled, but she's loving it, her eyes locked on yours with that lewd sparkle. "Daddy, you taste so good. I could do this all day." Her hand twists at the base while her tongue laps at the slit, denying you release just as the pressure builds.

You groan, your free hand gripping the armrest of the chair, knuckles white. "Baby girl, you're killing me here..." But she just giggles, muffled around your cock as she takes you deep.

"Shh, Daddy... enjoy it. I know you love it when I edge you like this."

And fuck, she's right—you do. The anticipation is torture, sweet and agonizing, as she keeps bringing you to the brink. Deepthroat after deepthroat, gagging louder each time, her throat getting looser but still tight enough to drive you insane.

She pulls back again, panting, her lips swollen and shiny. "Daddy, you're so hard for me. But hold on. I wanna make you beg." Sensually, she leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper as she strokes you slowly. "Please, Daddy? Let me keep edging your big cock?"

You nod, helpless, and she smiles wickedly before taking you back into her mouth, deepthroating with renewed vigor. Gagging echoes, drool flies, and she edges you once more, stopping just as your balls draw up, leaving you throbbing and desperate.

The pattern repeats, each deepthroat more intense than the last. Her gags turn into full-on chokes, her body convulsing slightly as she forces herself deeper, tears and spit mixing in a filthy cocktail.

"Daddy... ahk... I love your cock so much," she moans between thrusts, her hands now cupping your balls, massaging them gently to heighten the sensation.

You're leaking precum like a faucet now, the edge so close you can taste it, but she always pulls back at the last second, her tongue teasing the frenulum, teasing you mercilessly. The mess is everywhere, her shirt is drenched, and spit is dripping onto her skirt.

She finally relents after edging you one last agonizing time, her throat clamping down around your cock as she deepthroats you deep, gagging so hard that her body shudders violently. Drool cascades in thick ropes from her chin, soaking her already drenched shirt and bra, her perky tits heaving with each choked breath.

"Daddy... now," she gasps out, pulling back just enough to speak. "Cum for me, Daddy. Fill my mouth like the good girl I am." Her eyes lock onto yours, watery and wild, as she plunges back down, her hand pumping the base furiously while her tongue swirls madly.

That's the permission you needed. The dam breaks, and you explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum shoot down her throat. She gags at the first spurt, her eyes widening in surprise and delight, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she swallows greedily, her throat working overtime to take every drop, milking you dry with sloppy gulps.

"Mmmph,” she moans around your shaft, the vibrations prolonging your orgasm, drawing out more cum from your balls. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks harder, ensuring nothing escapes, drool and semen mixing in a filthy mess that dribbles from the corners of her lips.

When it's over, she pulls off slowly, gasping for air with a satisfied grin plastered across her spit-slicked face. Her lips are swollen and red, gleaming with remnants of your load, and she licks them clean sensually, savoring the taste.

"Oh my God, Daddy, that was so much," she whispers, her voice breathy and awed, a shiver running through her body as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, only to lick that off too. Her eyes sparkle with pure euphoria, cheeks flushed pink under the mess of tears and drool, her tits rising and falling rapidly as she catches her breath.

She's beaming, proud of herself for pushing you over the edge, her hands still gently stroking your softening cock, coaxing out the last drops. "Did I do good, Daddy? I love when you cum for me like that... makes me so wet."

She giggles softly, leaning in to kiss the tip one last time, her tongue lashing out to clean it, before sitting back on her heels, looking up at you with that innocent-yet-lewd gaze, utterly pleased and ready to clean up the chaos you've both created.

Summer stays on her knees, gasping softly as she tries to catch her breath, her chest heaving under that soaked shirt and bra. Her lips are swollen from the deepthroating, spit and cum on her chin, but before she can fully compose herself, footsteps echo from the hallway outside the science lab.

Voices follow, muffled at first but growing clearer: a couple of students, maybe, or teachers, chatting about using the lab right after recess. "Yeah, we can grab the keys from the office," one says. "Shouldn't be locked anyway. Let's check."

Her eyes widened in panic, darting to the door like, padding silently across the tiled floor, her skirt hiked up from kneeling, those thigh-high stockings hugging her legs in a way that makes your cock twitch even after just cumming.

She presses her ear against the door, holding it shut with one hand even though it's locked. You watch her from the chair, half-naked with your pants around your ankles, and you can't help it—a silent laugh bubbles up in your chest. Here she is, the one who was just telling you to relax in the empty lab, now freaking out over a little noise.

"Shh, they're right outside," she whispers, her voice barely audible, eyes snapping back to you. But damn, her figure from behind? It's fucking sexy; those long legs in those sheer stockings, the way her skirt rides up to tease the globe of her ass, her shirt unbuttoned and messy.

You stand up quietly, your cock stirring again from the thrill of the risk, hardening as you approach her. She's so focused on eavesdropping, pressing her ear harder against the door, that she doesn't hear you until you smack her ass. The sharp crack echoes softly in the room, and she yelps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, eyes bulging as she glares back at you over her shoulder.

Summer’s cheeks flush redder than before, but you just grin, stepping closer. The voices outside are yapping something about setting up an experiment as they probably head to the office. You signal her to keep quiet with a finger to your lips, knowing full well she's gonna fail at that.

She nods frantically, but her body tenses as you hook your fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties, yanking them down her thighs. They slide past her knees, pooling around her ankles, leaving her bare-assed and exposed, her pussy sticky from the earlier action.

She mouths again, more urgently this time, "What are you doing? They're right there!" Her eyes dart to the door, but you ignore it, your cock pressing her ass cheeks. You rub it between them slowly, the head poking at her tight asshole, feeling it clench and wink under the teasing pressure.

She's not ready for that hole—not even close, still tight from lack of prep but it's fun watching her squirm, her body tensing. "Mmmph," she whimpers silently, biting her lip hard as you slide your cock lower, the shaft gliding along her outer pussy lips, coating it in her wetness.

She shakes her head at you, her eyes pleading, but you lean in close, whispering right in her ear. "Why, princess? Don't you want my cock?" Your voice is low, the tip nudging at her entrance but not pushing in yet.

"It's not like that," she whispers back, her breath hitching as you tease her clit with the head of your cock, rubbing it in slowly. "I-I haven't taken my pill today. You know I'm always prepared when I want you, but… Like this?"

She bites her lower lip harder, stifling a moan as you press a little firmer, feeling her pussy lips part to tease the slick heat inside. The thought of fucking her bareback, no condom, no pill, filling her up with your cum right here, right now is undeniable, a filthy temptation that makes your cock throb.

She's right; she's usually on top of it, popping those little pills like clockwork for your secret fucks, but today? The idea of going raw, risking it all with people potentially bursting in, has you rock-hard. You know she wants it too, despite the protest. Her body is betraying her, hips subtly pushing back, her asshole winking again as you give it another poke.

Your hand slides around to cover her mouth just in case, while the other grips her hip. The voices outside fade a bit. They're probably walking away to get those keys but the danger is still there, hanging in the air like a drug. You grind your cock on her pussy, the head slipping in just the tip, feeling her walls clench around you instinctively.

"You know you want it raw. Feel how wet you are for Daddy." She nods weakly, her eyes fluttering shut for a second, but then she tenses again as footsteps approach closer. They're coming back. But that just makes it hotter. You thrust in shallow, teasing her entrance, knowing one wrong move and you'll be balls-deep, fucking her unprotected while she tries not to scream.

"Teacher— Daddy, please," she breathes, her voice muffled against your palm, "they're almost here... but... oh god, yes, do it. Fuck me raw, Daddy. I need it."

Her words break the last of your restraint, and you push forward, sinking into her tight, bare pussy with a groan, the risk of getting caught making every inch feel electric. The door rattles slightly as someone tries the handle from outside, but it's locked— for now. And you're not stopping.

With the voices outside murmuring, keys jingling faintly as they fumble at the office door down the hall, you grip her slim waist tightly, your fingers digging just above her hips, pulling her back toward you. She's bent slightly at the waist, ear still pressed to the door, but that changes as you align your throbbing cock with her entrance.

No condom, no pill today—just raw, bare skin on skin, the forbidden thrill of it all making your pulse race. You push forward slowly, the swollen head parting her pussy lips with ease, sliding into her tight heat inch by inch.

You grunt under your breath as you feel her walls clench, resisting at first before yielding to your thickness. She's so wet from earlier, from the blowjob and the teasing. It's intense, her pussy gripping tighter than usual, every ridge and vein on your cock dragging against her sensitive inner folds.

You plow deeper, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she stretches around your cock, her body trembling as you feed her more length. Halfway in, and she starts gasping, her free hand clawing at the doorframe, knuckles white.

"Oh god... Daddy," she whimpers, her voice muffled against the wood, but it's clear enough—desperate, needy.

You push further, your hips rolling forward in a steady rhythm, gripping her waist harder now, your thumbs pressing into her back as you guide her onto your cock.

Every inch sinks in deeper, filling her up completely, her pussy swallowing you whole until your balls press against her clit, nestled snug between her thighs.

She's full—stretched to the limit, her inner walls fluttering wildly around your girth, massaging you in ways that make your knees weak.

Her eyes roll up in her head, lids fluttering shut for a second before snapping open again, staring blankly at the door as the overwhelming sensation hits her. "Ahh... fuck, it's so... so big," she moans softly, biting her lip to stifle the sound, but a little cry escapes anyway.

The fullness is killing her in the best way—every vein, every throb of your cock inside her feels amplified, raw and unprotected, the heat of your skin against hers sending sparks through her nerves. Her pussy spasms, milking you, and you can feel the difference without the barrier; it's hotter, slicker, more intimate, like you're claiming her completely.

You start plowing her insides slowly, pulling back just enough to feel her walls drag along your shaft before thrusting in again, deep and unhurried. Grip tightening on her waist, you yank her back onto you, burying yourself to the hilt each time, the wet squelch of her pussy echoing faintly in the lab.

"Shh, baby girl... feel that? Daddy is filling you up raw," you whisper hotly in her ear, your breath tickling her neck as you grind your hips in circles, stirring your cock inside her, hitting that spot deep within that makes her toes curl in those stockings.

"Mmmph... yes, Daddy... oh fuck, it's so good," she gasps, her body shuddering against yours, eyes rolling back again as another slow thrust bottoms out, your cockhead kissing her cervix.

The sensation overwhelms her—every inch stretching her wide, the friction burning deliciously, her clit throbbing untouched as your balls slap lightly against it.

She's killing it, the pleasure building too fast, too intense, her thighs quivering as she struggles to stay quiet. Drool from earlier still clings to her chin, mixing with fresh sweat, but she doesn't care; all she can focus on is the way you're plowing her, slow and deep, owning her pussy like it belongs to you.

You pick up the pace just a fraction, still gripping her slim waist—she's so tiny, your hands almost wrapping all the way around—pulling her onto your cock with each thrust, fucking her against the door. The risk heightens everything; the voices outside are louder now, footsteps approaching again, and you're not stopping.

"Daddy, your cock, ahh, it's filling me so good," she whines, her voice breaking into a moan as you hit that sweet spot again, her pussy clenching hard, juices dripping down her thighs, soaking her stockings.

"You love Daddy's cock stuffing you up, baby girl?” you murmur, thrusting deeper, slower, savoring the way her walls ripple. Her eyes are half-lidded now, rolled up in ecstasy, her mouth hanging open as she pants, trying not to scream.

The overwhelming pleasure is too much that she's trembling, her knees buckling slightly, but your grip on her waist holds her steady, pinning her in place as you plow into her relentlessly. "Cum for me, Eunseo baby. Can you do that, hmm?”

She shakes her head weakly, but her body betrays her, another clench rippling through her as you thrust in slow and deep one more time, burying yourself fully.

"Ahh... Daddy, yes... God, I'm gonna— I will cum for Daddy!" Her words trail off into a stifled cry, her eyes rolling back completely now, lost in the bliss as the sensation destroys her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over.

You're not far behind but you hold on, grabbing her hips tighter, messaging her insides with long sharp strokes, drawing it out for both of you. The footsteps outside pause - maybe they leave and maybe they're right there, trying the door - but fuck it, you're buried deep in your student, and nothing is stopping this now.

Summer leans back suddenly, her body melting into yours like she's surrendering completely, her back pressing your chest. You wrap your arms around her fully from behind, one hand sliding up to cup her perky tit through the soaked bra, squeezing the soft flesh hard, while the other stays gripped on her waist, holding her steady.

The hug is tight, possessive, your chin hooking over her shoulder, breath hot on her neck as you bury your face in her hair, inhaling her scent mixed with sweat and sex. She's trembling now, her pussy suctioning around your raw cock, walls fluttering from the assault, but she wants more, needs it harder.

You oblige, pulling back and slam forward, hitting her pussy so hard and deep that it punches the air from her lungs. The thrust is brutal, your hips snapping against her ass with a wet smack, burying yourself balls-deep in one go, your cockhead ramming against her cervix as if you're trying to bruise it.

Her feet lift off the floor - literally fucking her off her toes, her body jolting upward as you impale her completely, gravity and your grip the only things keeping her grounded.

"Ahh—fuck!" she gasps, but she bites down on her own fingers, stuffing them into her mouth to muffle the scream, her teeth sinking into the skin as her eyes squeeze shut, tears pricking from the intensity.

The sensation is overwhelming for her, every hard thrust lifts her higher, her pussy stretched impossibly wide around your thickness, the raw friction burning deliciously as you shove in deep, no mercy. Her toes dangle helplessly, stockings straining against her legs, her skirt bunched up around her waist as you hug her tighter, your arm around her chest, squeezing her tit like a lifeline.

"Mmmph~ Daddy, too deep! Oh god," she moans around her fingers, the words muffled and desperate, saliva dribbling from the corners of her mouth as she bites harder to stifle the noise.

You feel her heart pounding against your palm, her nipple hard as a pebble under the bra, and it stimulates you on thrusting again and again, harder, lifting her feet even higher this time, her body suspended in your embrace as you fuck her like a ragdoll.

Her pussy spasms wildly, juices gushing down your shaft with each impact, soaking your balls and her inner thighs and dripping onto the floor in messy splatters. You don't stop, clutching her from behind like she's your fucktoy, slamming into her with relentless force.

"Shh, Summer. Hang in there, okay, sweety? Daddy gonna fill this tight pussy," you growl in her ear, your free hand sliding down to rub her clit roughly, circling it in time with your thrusts.

Her eyes roll back, feet kicking uselessly in the air, her body arching as another deep hit makes her clench so tight it's almost painful, squeezing your cock like she wants your cum flooding her unprotected depths.

She bites her fingers deeper, a whimper escaping despite it, her face contorted in ecstasy as you pound her, the hard, deep strokes lifting her over and over; feet off the ground, pussy taking every inch, the fullness killing her in waves of pleasure.

"Daddy~ Please... It's too much... ahh!" But she keeps biting, muffling it, her body shaking violently in your arms, tits bouncing.

You're both on the edge now, the danger outside amplifying everything, but you hold her tight, hugging her as you fuck her, ready to explode inside her any second.

The door rattles again—fuck, they're trying to get in—but you don't care; you're buried deep, owning her, and she's biting her fingers red not to scream your name.

Summer's body tenses up like a live wire, her explosive orgasm crashing over her all at once—too much, too fast, the raw fucking and deep thrusts pushing her right off the edge.

"Daddy... oh, stop stop stop!!" she cries out around her bitten fingers, the words muffled but desperate, her voice breaking into a high-pitched whine as her pussy clamps down hard on your cock, walls spasming in rhythmic waves.

Her whole frame twitches and stiffens in your arms, muscles locking up as the pleasure rips through her, her eyes rolling back so far only the whites show, mouth hanging open around her fingers with drool spilling out.

Her toes curl in those stockings, feet dangling helplessly as her hips buck involuntarily, grinding back against your cock even as she convulses, juices squirting out around your shaft in hot spurts, soaking your balls and the floor.

Her pussy milks you relentlessly, the tight squeezes almost forcing you over the edge. But you hold on just a second longer, savoring the way she shudders in your embrace, her tits heaving over your arm.

Then, as her orgasm peaks and her body goes rigid, you slam her front side hard against the door, her cheek and tits mashing into the wood with a thud, her fingers slipping from her mouth to brace herself as a loud gasp escapes.

The impact rattles the door slightly, but it's locked, and you don't give a shit anymore. You grip her ass tight with both hands now, fingers digging into the soft, firm cheeks, spreading them apart as you yank her back onto your cock one last time.

That's all it takes for you to explode inside her, your load shooting straight into her womb theoretically, thick ropes of cum flooding her unprotected pussy in hot pulses.

You groan, slamming into her again and again, gripping her ass to hold her steady as you pump every drop deep, your cock throbbing wildly inside her spasming walls.

She whimpers on the door, her body still twitching from her own climax, mixing with yours in a messy, filthy crescendo; cum leaking out around your pulsing cock, dripping down her thighs as you grind in, emptying your balls completely.

The voices outside have gone quiet, maybe shocked or leaving, but you're lost in the aftershocks, hugging her ass tight, your forehead pressed to her back as you catch your breath, both of you spent and satisfied. "You always make me cum so much," you murmur, kissing her shoulder, still buried deep as her pussy pulses, squeezing out the last drops of cum.

Your knees buckle a little as the last waves of your orgasm fade, and you stumble back a step, pulling your cock out of Summer's pussy with a wet squelch. Cum and her juices drip from your softening cock, splattering onto the floor, mixing with the mess already there.

She slumps forward, her forehead resting against the door for a moment, both hands gripping the doorknob tightly as she gasps for air, her chest heaving like she's just run a marathon. Her pussy gapes slightly, pink and swollen, your load trickling out in slow rivulets down her thighs, soaking her stockings even more.

The room smells thick with sex—sweat, cum, and that sweetness from her skin—but the sounds outside have faded completely, like whoever was there gave up and left.

"We... we gotta get cleaned up quick," Summer pants out, her voice hoarse and breathless, pushing off the door finally. She turns to face you, limping slightly on shaky legs, her face flushed a deep crimson that spreads down her neck.

Her shirt is still unbuttoned, bra askew, skirt twisted around her waist - a total wreck, but she's grinning weakly, wiping sweat from her brow. Cum leaks a bit more from between her legs, and she shifts erotically, shivering as she presses her thighs together.

You chuckle, zipping up your pants after tucking yourself away, still catching your breath. "You alright, Summer? Looks like you took a beating."

She shoots you a playful glare, but her eyes are twinkling. "I'm not alright. I want to get fucked and bred again if I can... but I'll hang in there for now." The vulgar words roll off her tongue so casually, and your heart skips a beat, cock twitching at the thought despite being spent.

Breeding her raw like that? Fuck, the idea hits hard, making you imagine filling her up over and over.

She giggles at your stunned expression, leaning in to peck your cheek before limping over to collect her scattered stuff; blazer, tie, her soaked panties that she stuffs into her pocket with a wink. Then she's hobbling toward the sinks, turning on the water to rinse off, splashing her face and hands, yet leaving the mess between her legs to stay.

You join her, washing up quickly, the cold water snapping you back to reality. She buttons up her shirt, throws the blazer over it to hide the stains, and smooths her skirt down, looking almost presentable again except for that lingering flush and the slight wobble in her step.

"See you in class, teacher," she whispers with a sly smile before slipping out the door, leaving you to follow after a minute, heart still pounding.

Sometime later, back in the classroom, you're at the front, acting all normal handing out papers, lecturing on whatever the fuck the lesson is, like nothing happened. The kids are chatting, doodling, the usual chaos. But then you spot Summer at the back, standing alone by the windows, her eyes locked on you.

She blows you a flying kiss, her lips puckering exaggeratedly, hand fluttering through the air with a naughty wink. You almost choke on your words mid-sentence, coughing into your fist as your face heats up, memories of her pussy flashing in your mind.

The class quiets a bit, a few kids glancing your way, and you compose yourself fast, clearing your throat. "Alright, settle down, everyone. Eyes on the board." You shoot her a quick, stern look, but inside, you're grinning like an idiot, already thinking about the next time.

[faebled-stories]

Behind The Wall

Kinkvember Day 8: Glory Hole

Le Sserafim's Huh Yunjin

Slightly more explicit with the wording

Yunjin sank into the deep, velvet embrace of her couch, the cushions softening her exhausted frame as she let out a long, weary sigh. The echoes of the day's cacophony—cheering fans, thumping music, and sharp camera clicks—still pulsed faintly in her ears.

The life of an idol was dazzling but relentless; every hour meticulously scheduled, every move choreographed to perfection. The glitter of stage lights, interviews under glaring lamps, and the constant churn of photo shoots were exhilarating but exacted a toll. It was as if her very soul teetered on a tightrope, balancing the shimmering allure of fame against the shadow of burnout.

Through the vast floor-to-ceiling window, the city’s neon lights painted strokes of pink, blue, and gold across her apartment walls. Seoul’s night buzzed with energy; cars zipped by, people chattered and laughed, their figures flitting like restless fireflies. The symphony of life outside mocked her solitude, reminding her of the world that saw her only as an untouchable idol, never as Yunjin, the young woman who craved the freedom to simply be.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she swept her gaze over the cluttered coffee table, its surface strewn with fan mail written in colorful inks, glossy pamphlets of upcoming events, and stacks of formal letters from the agency. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns over the scattered papers, seeking something familiar in the chaos. But then, her touch stopped on an envelope that was different. It was plain, with none of the bright markings or logos she’d expected—no sender's name, no return address, just an unassuming square of paper.

The whisper of the paper crinkling as she opened it seemed magnified in the stillness. The note inside was concise, starkly so, and as her eyes scanned the words, a shiver danced along her spine:

"Looking to escape the ordinary? We offer complete anonymity. No names, no faces—just pure freedom. For those seeking a way out, come explore a world where nothing else matters."

A URL was printed below in small, unembellished text, as though any flourish might disrupt the message’s secrecy. Yunjin flipped the paper over, searching for more—an explanation, a clue to its sender—but found nothing. The edges of the note bit into her palm as her mind wrestled with intrigue and apprehension.

Her heart thudded as she glanced around her penthouse, its luxury and perfection suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. The idea of complete anonymity was as tantalizing as it was foreign. A place where her name, face, and reputation held no sway, where the burden of fame could be shed like a second skin—was such a thing even possible?

The glow of her phone lit her face as she typed the URL. The screen flickered to life, revealing a minimalist site with no distractions, no images, just a few lines of cryptic text. It spoke of an exclusive venue, a secret haven where identities dissolved, and people interacted without pasts or future judgments. A chill coursed down her arms as she read it again, each word stoking the embers of a rebellious thought that crackled within her.

She pressed her lips together, the decision forming like storm clouds in her mind. Her usual caution warred with a desperate hunger for escape. For once, she wouldn’t run it by her manager or think about potential repercussions. She would be just Yunjin, unknown and unseen.

Shaking fingers rummaged through her closet, pushing past glamorous gowns and performance outfits until she found a pair of dark jeans and a plain black hoodie. She slipped them on, the soft fabric foreign in its ordinariness. Her reflection in the mirror was almost startling—gone were the shimmering eyeshadow, sculpted features, and immaculate hair. Instead, a girl with wide, determined eyes looked back. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and donned a baseball cap, tucking wayward strands beneath it. Oversized sunglasses completed the disguise, shadowing her face despite the evening hour.

A small crossbody bag held her essentials, including the mysterious envelope and her phone, which she silenced before sliding it in. The muffled tick of the clock punctuated her hesitation, but the thrum in her chest urged her forward. The night was cool when she stepped out, the city’s breath washing over her as if daring her to blend into the current of people and lights.

Flagging down a cab felt like a small act of rebellion, its ordinary nature grounding her as the car hummed to life and pulled away from the curb. The rhythmic roll of the tires lulled her into contemplation. Streetlights cast fleeting halos on her window, the cityscape warping and softening in the glass’s reflection. She watched as neon signs, bustling restaurants, and late-night strollers gave way to quieter streets lined with shuttered shops and shadowed alleyways.

When the cab stopped in front of an unremarkable building, her pulse quickened. It stood under a flickering street lamp, modest and nondescript, its façade promising nothing yet holding everything she yearned for.

Yunjin paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city's hum receding to a low murmur. A sudden breeze lifted the edge of her hood as she pulled it lower, shielding herself from the scant light. The air tasted electric, anticipation sharp on her tongue.

This was it—a chance to disappear, to step into the unknown. The final glance over her shoulder was reflexive, a look at the life she was about to abandon, if only for a fleeting moment. With a deep breath, Yunjin pushed open the heavy door and let the shadows swallow her whole, a small smile curving her lips as the echo of her world fell away.

At the front desk, a woman with a soft, welcoming smile looked up, her glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose, glinting under the warm glow of the overhead light. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, her poised demeanor a result of years of greeting visitors who approached with curiosity, nerves, or both.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice calm, warm, and practiced, like the embrace of a familiar song. The subtle scent of jasmine lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the thundering beat of Yunjin’s heart. Sensing her demeanor the lady continued “First time?”

Yunjin gulped, the lump in her throat making her voice feel small and fragile. “Yes,” she replied, her tone soft and almost wavering, as if any louder would betray the torrent of emotions coursing through her.

The woman’s eyes, sharp yet kind, softened with a knowing glimmer as she slid a clipboard toward Yunjin across the polished, dark wood of the counter. The faint slide of paper against wood felt louder than it was, reverberating in Yunjin’s heightened state. “No worries, it’s all straightforward here. Just sign this waiver, and let me explain the options.” The receptionist’s tone was even, her words crafted to soothe. The clipboard itself seemed ordinary but held a gravity Yunjin wasn’t prepared for—a silent gateway between the ordinary and the unknown.

Yunjin's eyes dropped to the clipboard, the neatly printed text blurring slightly as her thoughts raced. The room felt warm, her breath shallow as she fought to calm herself. The woman’s voice interrupted her reverie, a steady anchor to the moment. “You can choose to give pleasure or receive it—whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

Yunjin’s pulse quickened, the choice startling in its simplicity yet weighted with implications. The muffled hum of distant music reached her ears, blending with the low thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She hadn’t anticipated the tension, the sudden clarity required for this decision.

“Um…” The hesitation hung between them, a breath caught in time. Yunjin’s gaze flickered from the clipboard to the woman’s reassuring eyes, and before she could rethink it, the words fell from her lips. “I’ll… give first.”

A smile curved the receptionist’s lips, gentle and knowing. She collected the clipboard once Yunjin had signed her name, fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood. “Great,” she said with a finality that both steadied and excited Yunjin. “Once you’re ready, head to the back, and follow the instructions inside. Take your time.” The words resonated like a promise, rich with unspoken possibilities.

Yunjin's feet felt both light and weighted as she moved through the hallway, each step echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The corridor was lined with antique sconces that cast warm, flickering light, their glow reminiscent of gas lamps from another era. The scent of aged wood and varnish wrapped around her, steeped in a history of whispered secrets and uncharted desires.

The booth she entered was compact, almost intimate, its wooden frame dark with age and rich with a subtle scent of cedar. Faint scratches marred the surface, stories untold but felt through the marks of time. Yunjin adjusted herself on the worn seat, the old wood creaking beneath her slight movements. The small space was a capsule of warmth and nervous energy, making the moment feel both surreal and thrilling.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. The booth's walls seemed to close in protectively, muting the world outside and intensifying her awareness of herself. The anticipation coiled within her, electric and alive, as she opened herself up to whatever came next, ready to step across the invisible threshold and into the unknown.

Suddenly, a slight movement near her face broke her concentration. Her gaze shifted and there it was—a small, round hole in the partition between booths, a portal to the unknown. Through it, the tip of a penis slowly emerged, its presence both startling and enticing. The anonymity of the situation only added to the allure, as Yunjin found herself face to face with the mystery of a man she could neither see nor touch, save for this intimate connection.

The member that presented itself through the partition was of a decent size, neither intimidating nor meek. It commanded Yunjin's attention, a silent invitation to a dance of lust and longing. With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take her time, to explore and savor the experience. She was an artist, and this was her canvas.

As she leaned in, the warmth of her lips met the head of the cock with a gentle, yet commanding touch. Her technique was impeccable, a result of years of honing her craft. A low groan from the other side of the partition confirmed her skill, and a surge of empowerment washed over her. She was in control, a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire.

With each slide of her mouth, her tongue traced the sensitive underside of his member, eliciting a symphony of responses from the stranger. His breathing grew heavier, punctuating the air with anticipation. The twitching of his member within her mouth was a silent testament to her mastery, a sign that she was navigating the dance of desire with expert precision.

Yunjin's own moans began to mingle with the stranger's labored breaths, a chorus that filled the small, private space. She couldn't deny the pleasure she found in this unconventional tryst. There was a unique thrill in the anonymity, a liberation in the act of pleasuring someone whose face she would never know. It was a connection that transcended the physical, rooted in the raw and real exchange of passion.

The pace of her actions increased, her head bobbing with growing urgency, the wet sounds of her endeavors a testament to the fervor of the moment. She could sense the stranger's tension mounting, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged as he approached the precipice of release.

As the tension escalated, Yunjin sensed the subtle changes in the man's breathing—a mix of shallow, quick breaths escalating into a desperate, primal rhythm. The air grew thick with anticipation, and her heart pounded in sync with his. The cock in her mouth, already swollen with arousal, seemed to pulse with an electric charge, signaling the inevitable. His body tensed, muscles rigid as his climax built to an unstoppable crescendo. With just a whisper of warning, the stranger's control slipped away. A guttural, low growl vibrated through his chest, primal and raw, echoing in the confined space around them. Then, the release. It came like a warm, forceful flood, his hot, salty essence filling Yunjin's mouth with a sudden rush. She felt the throbbing intensify, each pulse delivering more of his essence, hot and thick against her tongue. Yunjin, caught in the wave of his ecstasy, swallowed eagerly, the flavors mixing in her mouth—salty, slightly bitter, yet uniquely intimate. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation, her own arousal amplifying as she savored the taste, the heat, the sheer intimacy of the act. As he reached his peak, she could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, the throbbing now a slower, gentler rhythm. The cock in her mouth began to soften, no longer the rigid rod of before, but yielding, becoming more pliable. Yunjin held him there, her lips and tongue still caressing, prolonging the connection. The afterglow of his climax lingered on her taste buds as she gently released him with a soft wet pop, her lips tracing a soft path along the now relaxed shaft, leaving a trail of warmth. The moment, intense and fleeting, left them both in a haze of satisfaction, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

A murmured thanks floated through the hole, a small acknowledgment of the intense connection they had shared, however fleeting. Yunjin took a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter.

Despite the fleeting nature of their interaction, Yunjin felt a profound bond with the faceless man on the other side of the wall. It was a bond forged by mutual pleasure and vulnerability, a memory that would linger long after the carnival lights had dimmed.

Just as she began to compose herself, another surprise awaited her. From a different opening in the partition, a second shaft appeared—this one significantly larger and more imposing. Yunjin's breath hitched in her throat as she eyed the newcomer with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The first encounter had been a warm-up, but this? This was a challenge.

She hesitated, pondering if she could accommodate such a size, but the thrill of the challenge won out. With a cautious but determined glance, she edged closer to the second hole. Yunjin was ready to take the ride.

As she steeled herself, Yunjin's gaze was locked on the formidable appendage that stood before her. It was a symbol of virility and power, and she was determined to conquer it. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The moment of contact was electric; her soft lips met the massive head of the cock, and a surge of warmth and intensity coursed through her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as she focused all her strength and concentration on the task ahead.

The journey had begun, and Yunjin was committed to seeing it through. She slid her lips down the lengthy shaft, each inch a testament to her determination. The cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth, a living embodiment of the challenge she had accepted. It was a tight fit, pushing the limits of her oral cavity, and she could feel her throat constricting as she valiantly attempted to accommodate more of the imposing member.

Gagging and sputtering were inevitable, but Yunjin's will was made of sterner stuff. She refused to yield, pushing herself further, taking in more and more until she felt the cock hit the back of her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, but she welcomed it, pausing only to adjust before resuming her rhythmic motion. Her head bobbed back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, a dance of passion and perseverance.

The thrill of the challenge was intoxicating. Yunjin's pulse raced with excitement as she deepthroats the massive cock, each thrust a declaration of her own capabilities. She was acutely aware of the wet patch growing on her panties, a visible sign of her arousal, as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by the object of her conquest. She was lost in the moment, her world narrowed to the feeling of being completely filled, completely consumed by the task at hand.

Her determination was not in vain. The man's body tensed, his breaths became labored gasps, and Yunjin knew she had driven him to the brink. The moment of truth arrived as his dick twitched and pulsed in her mouth, releasing a torrent of cum. She swallowed quickly, striving to keep up with the force of his ejaculation, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cum splashed against the back of her throat, overflowed, and covered her chin, dripping down her chest in a testament to her efforts.

Yunjin, a woman of remarkable poise and sensuality, found herself in a scenario that would have left many reeling. She had just concluded an intense session with two well-endowed partners, each man bringing his own brand of fervor and demanding her full attention and physicality. The encounter had been a marathon of pleasure and exertion, pushing Yunjin to the brink of her sexual prowess. Yet, as the second man withdrew, spent and satisfied, Yunjin was faced with an unanticipated third act.

Through the other hole stood another man, his desire evident and his anticipation palpable. His penis, while not as imposing as the ones that had preceded it, still presented a challenge. Yunjin, ever the consummate lover, was not one to back down from a challenge. She understood that satisfaction comes in many sizes and that her journey was far from over.

With a deep breath to center herself, Yunjin leaned in, her eyes locked onto his member as she took the whole cock easily into her mouth. The warmth of his flesh against her lips was a familiar sensation, yet it brought with it a new set of expectations. She was determined to lavish upon this man the same meticulous attention that she had given to the others, to bring him to the heights of pleasure despite the lingering sensation of fullness that still resonated within her from her previous encounters.

As she worked her magic, the man's response was immediate and visceral. He quickly reached his climax, and Yunjin braced herself for what was to come. To her astonishment, his orgasm was voluminous, exceeding even the generous offerings of the two men before him, combined. The warm, thick salty liquid hit the back of her throat with a force that caused her gag reflex to activate, the excess spilling out of her mouth and trickling down her chin.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Yunjin made a swift decision. She couldn’t take any more inside of her; she had reached her limit. Instead, she guided the man to finish all over her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back, she surrendered to the sensory overload. The cum splattered in waves across her face, marking her porcelain skin and staining her crimson hair with ropes of his essence. It dripped down her neck, leaving trails that soaked into her LE SSERAFIM top, a badge of honor from her latest conquest..

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Yunjin. Here she was, a woman who had always prided herself on her control and composure, covered in the evidence of her sexual escapades. Yet, far from feeling debased, she felt empowered. The sensation was strange, yet not unpleasant, and in the midst of the chaos, she found a moment of quiet appreciation for the extremes to which her body and mind could be pushed.

As the man caught his breath and pulled away, Yunjin opened her eyes. A smile played across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had just completed. She had not only endured but had triumphed, satisfying yet another partner with grace and determination. The experience had been intense, physically challenging, and emotionally exhausting, but it had also been exhilarating.

Yunjin stood, her body glistening with the remnants of her encounters, and made her way to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection, at the cum-covered visage that stared back at her, and she felt a surge of pride. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and had proven to herself that she was capable of anything. In that moment, Yunjin embraced her strength, her resilience, and the sheer power of her sexuality.

She took a moment to catch her breath. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and a sense of calm washed over her. But she was not ready to stop just yet. Quickly using the provided wipes, she cleaned herself slightly before she gathered up her remaining energy and boldly decided to continue.

Yunjin's heart danced to the staccato rhythm of her racing pulse as she navigated the dimly lit corridors of the building, her every step echoing the potent cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins. She arrived at her destination, a secluded alcove whispered about in the hushed tones of the initiated, where the boundaries of the self are willingly blurred.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Yunjin began the ritual of undressing, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the canvas of her unadorned skin. The cool air of the room kissed her bare flesh, sending a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of her exposed state. It was in this moment of nakedness, both literal and metaphorical, that Yunjin felt truly alive, her senses heightened to the symphony of whispers, rustling fabric, and the faint scent of desire that permeated the air.

Carefully, she positioned herself, ensuring comfort and security, but also the deliberate display of her most intimate self. The hole before her served as a portal to a world of anonymous connections, her bare pussy an offering to the unknown. As she closed her eyes, Yunjin surrendered to the vulnerability of her situation, a willing participant in the dance of the flesh.

The sounds from the adjacent room grew in intensity, a cacophony of deep moans and heavy breathing that spoke of the primal acts unfolding mere inches away. It was not long before the first of her anonymous suitors approached, his fingers tracing the contours of her exposed lower body with a reverence that belied the raw encounter to come.

He wastes no time in claiming what he sought, gripping Yunjin's hips with an urgency that communicated his need. She felt the heat of his body, the insistent press of his cock against her, seeking entry into the slick warmth of her tight cunt. As he entered her, Yunjin braced herself against the intrusion, the sensation of being filled overwhelming her senses.

The man's thrusts were fast and deep, driven by the intoxicating tightness that enveloped him. Yunjin's moans melded with the symphony of sounds that filled the room, her body responding to the relentless rhythm. Having spent the earlier part of the night pleasuring a succession of faceless men, now it was her turn to bask in the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her.

Yunjin's body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her veins. She could feel every inch of the man behind the wall. His thrusts were relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his touch.

She could hear the man's grunts and groans growing louder with each thrust, his hips slamming into her with a primal urgency that made her heart race. It was clear that he was chasing his own high, focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through his body.

Yunjin tried to match his rhythm, meeting each thrust with one of her own, but she was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building deep within her, the tension coiling in her belly as she gasped for breath.

Yunjin, in that moment, was just another warm, wet body used solely for pleasure. An extension of the overwhelming stimulation that threatened to swallow her whole. The scent of sex was thick in the air of the crowded room, mixing with the heady aroma of cologne and the musk of aroused bodies.

All around them, others writhed and cried out in ecstasy. Moans and screams filled the air, punctuated by the wet slap of flesh on flesh. It was a debauched scene straight out of Yunjin's wildest fantasies. And yet, even as her body climbed higher and higher towards the peak, her mind felt strangely detached. It was as if she was watching the whole thing unfold from outside herself.

The man's thrusts grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own end. Yunjin could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, her nails digging into the supple leather beneath her as she teetered on the very edge of oblivion.

With a final, powerful thrust, Yunjin's body tensed as she felt her world shatter into a thousand pieces. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, a rush of intense pleasure coursing through her veins and leaving her breathless. She threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing through the room as she reveled in the indescribable sensation.

The man, still buried deep inside of her, let out a low groan as he felt her climax. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he followed suit, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. The warmth of his seed filled her to the brim, a delicious sensation that only served to prolong her own orgasm.

"Ohhh yes!" Yunjin cried out, her voice filled with pure ecstasy. The intensity of the moment was etched into her memory, a moment of pure bliss that she would never forget. 

As the first man finished his climax, he pulled out, leaving Yunjin's hungry hole exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and the evidence of his pleasure. But there was no time for respite in this den of hedonism. No sooner had he withdrawn than another figure loomed, his member rigid and ready. Without hesitation, he plunged into her cum-slicked opening, claiming her for his own.

He started pumping with an urgency that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart. The wet sounds of their union resonated throughout the room, a testament to the slick, fervent fucking that was underway. Yunjin's body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet his every thrust, her fingers clawing at the edges of the bench that supported her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she panted, her voice a symphony of lust and longing. She was a vision of abandon, her body undulating with each powerful drive of his cock. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as she rode the wave of another impending climax.

The man showed no signs of slowing down, his own desires stoking the fire within Yunjin's core. She could feel the essence of her previous partner being churned inside her, the concoction adding to the intensity of the experience. "Mmmm it's so messy!" Yunjin gasped, the sensation of fluids squelching with each thrust only heightening her arousal.

He used the slickness to his advantage, fucking her with wild abandon, his hips a blur as he hammered in and out of her willing body. The room was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the slap of skin, the wet suction of her sex, and the growing crescendo of Yunjin's moans.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Yunjin wailed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensitive walls of her sex gripping him tightly as she reached the precipice of pleasure. Her whole body shook, racked by the force of her climax, a climax that seemed to tear through her like a storm surge, leaving her spent and trembling in its wake.

As her orgasm subsided, the man continued to thrust, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from Yunjin's satiated form. Finally, with a guttural growl, he too found his release, adding to the cum-slicked mess that Yunjin had become.

Exhausted but thoroughly sated, Yunjin collapsed onto the bench, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She was a writhing, moaning mess, her body marked by the intensity of her encounters. Yet, even as she lay there, the knowledge that this was but a moment in her endless pursuit of pleasure brought a knowing smile to her lips.

In the dimly lit confines of an intimate chamber, Yunjin found herself amidst a symphony of desire, a realm where pleasure was the only currency. After a series of passionate trysts, she braced herself for the final act of her evening, a performance that promised to be as memorable as it was intense.

As her body, still quivering from the reverberations of her last climax, began to settle, Yunjin sensed the approach of another. She was acutely aware that this would be her final partner for the night, and there was something decidedly different about him. The anticipation of his touch rekindled the warmth and pulsating sensitivity of her pussy, remnants of her recent orgasmic journey.

The man's presence was commanding yet tender as he teased her entrance, his warmth radiating against her sensitive flesh. She recognized him by his formidable size—the same man she had pleasured orally earlier. His endowment, both exciting and intimidating, had left a lasting impression, and the recognition only stoked the fires of her arousal.

As he began to enter her, Yunjin braced herself for the sensation of being filled beyond what she had ever known. His size was not just impressive; it bordered on the edge of her comfort zone, yet she found herself craving more. With each deliberate inch that slid inside, her body stretched to accommodate his girth, yielding to his impressive member with a mix of trepidation and eagerness.

The intensity of fullness was almost too much to bear, but it was swiftly replaced by waves of pleasure that accompanied each of his thrusts. Her body was being pushed to its limits, but in the most exhilarating way imaginable. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft, creating a friction that sent shivers of delight coursing through her.

Instinct took over, and Yunjin began to match his rhythm, eager to feel him reach the deepest parts of her. The man responded in kind, increasing the force of his thrusts, making her gasp with each powerful drive. The room echoed with the raw, primal sound of their bodies uniting, a testament to the pleasure they were creating together.

Yunjin's heart raced, each beat a drumbeat echoing in her ears as she scaled the heights of her pleasure. Her legs trembled with the exertion, her muscles coiling tighter with each passing second. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, a palpable tension that begged for release.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with the raw edge of desperation.

He responded with a powerful surge, his body moving with an intensity that matched her own fervor. Their rhythm was frenzied, a dance of two souls seeking unity in the most primal way.

"Please," she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of the overwhelming need that consumed her.

His answer was a focused, deliberate motion, a targeted strike against her inner walls that made stars explode behind her closed eyelids. Yunjin's world shattered as she reached the pinnacle of her climax. Her voice broke the stillness, a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss that filled the room.

"FUCK… you’re so big!" she exclaimed, her body arching into his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Her inner muscles pulsed around him, a rhythmic clenching that milked his own release. He threw his head back, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he let out a deep, resonant groan. Yunjin felt the heat of his climax as he spilled into her, the sensation drawing out her own pleasure until she was utterly spent.

For a moment, they existed in a perfect state of satiation, their bodies still intimately connected. Yunjin's breaths slowly evened out, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. She lay there, boneless and content, a soft smile playing on her lips as the aftershocks of their union rippled through her.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Yunjin savored the feeling of completeness. The warmth of his release spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and deeply satisfying. Her body, now spent and limp, was a testament to the pleasure he had wrought.

In the afterglow of their erotic encounter, she lay back on the leather that clung to her skin, her body a canvas of pleasure and fatigue. Her breaths came in slow, deep waves, each one a testament to the intensity of the experience they had just shared. She was in a state of blissful exhaustion, every muscle in her body seemingly liquefied in the wake of her climax.

The mystery stud, still poised behind the wall, looked at her quivering folds, his gaze held a mixture of pride and satisfaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye he leaned in for one final, electrifying farewell.

His hand came down on her sex with a sure, resounding slap that echoed through the room, its sharpness jolting her senses. The stinging sensation arched her back, drawing a surprised moan from her lips as the sound lingered—a provocative reminder of their raw, unrestrained passion.

Before she could fully process the shock, his mouth descended with a searing kiss to her throbbing clit, warm and intent. The heat enveloped her, sending a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. His tongue moved deftly, coaxing her sensitive flesh to life with skilled flicks and gentle pulls, each movement reigniting her body’s desire.

A gasp escaped her as she shivered, goosebumps rising over her skin. Still sensitive from her previous release, she felt her body surge with renewed intensity. Her every nerve responded to him, the initial sting of his touch melting into the tender warmth of his kiss, the sensations mingling in a dizzying contrast that left her breathless. She was caught in the duality of it—the lingering sting meeting the sweetness of his lips—a perfect balance between the need to retreat from the intensity and the desire to lose herself in it entirely.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulled back, leaving her body trembling and her chest rising with deep, satiated breaths. Covered in a light sheen of sweat, she had long since lost count of her climaxes, each one more powerful than the last. As she lay there, immersed in the warmth of their connection, she knew that this night would remain etched in her memory—a moment where passion, intensity, and an unspoken bond came together in something that transcended the physical.

She rose slowly from the plush cushions her legs trembling slightly from the exertions of the evening. Standing in the dimly lit room that had been her sanctuary, she caught her reflection in the nearby mirror. Her gaze drifted over her own form—a canvas marked by the unmistakable signs of release. Her skin was damp, glistening with the mingled residue of sweat and pleasure, each trace a testament to the intensity of the night.

She felt wonderfully full, her body carrying the subtle reminders of her encounters, tokens of the night that would stay with her as she stepped back into the world.

Yunjin moved to the bathroom, her steps careful, almost reverent. Warm water streamed over her, washing away the physical remnants of her indulgence, swirling down the drain in a quiet cleanse. Yet even as the evidence vanished, she knew that the essence of the night would remain—a secret, a sense of renewal that she would carry back into her public persona.

Dressed once again in her street clothes—a chic outfit that belied the wildness of her evening—Yunjin gathered her belongings: a sleek purse, comfy sneakers, and a renewed sense of self. She paused at the mirror, captivated by her own reflection. The woman staring back was radiant, her eyes alight with a new fire, a private victory that fame alone could never quite evoke. It was a glow that belonged to her alone.

At the front desk, Yunjin was met with the same quiet discretion as when she’d first arrived. The hostess, ever the silent guardian of this hidden world, handed her a sleek business card—a subtle invitation to return. Yunjin responded with a slight smile, a silent promise to herself that she would indeed revisit this sanctuary of indulgence.

Just as she turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Hi, Ms. Jeon. Welcome back!”

Yunjin froze, her heart skipping as she spun around to see none other than her friend, Jeon Somi, standing just a few feet away. Somi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she cocked her head, taking in Yunjin’s slightly disheveled appearance. Blood rushed to Yunjin’s cheeks, embarrassment rising fast—of all people, she hadn’t expected to see Somi here.

“S-Somi?” she stammered, caught off guard. “What… what are you doing here?”

Somi chuckled, enjoying Yunjin’s flustered reaction. She took a step closer, her gaze warm but curious. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “Yeah, well…” She trailed off, unable to find the words, but Somi simply grinned and leaned in slightly, her expression softening.

Without a word, Somi’s eyes glinted with mischief as she inhaled, catching the faint scent lingering on Yunjin’s clothes—a subtle hint of musk and release. She pulled back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“I’m here for the same reason as you, I presume?” Somi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Yunjin’s face grew hotter, mortified that Somi could sense exactly what she’d been up to. She bit her lip, laughing nervously. “I… guess so,” she mumbled, managing a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think I’d… run into anyone I know here.”

Somi chuckled warmly, patting Yunjin’s shoulder with a playful smile. “Hey, we all need a place like this sometimes, right? No judgment.” She glanced back toward the hallways, her voice softening. “Anyway, I had a long day. I’ll see you around.”

Before Yunjin could respond, Somi turned and headed toward the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps fading into the quiet shadows of the hidden world they both shared. Yunjin watched her friend disappear, feeling a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Left standing by the entrance, Yunjin took a steadying breath, her heartbeat gradually slowing. Tomorrow, she would return to her carefully crafted public life. But tonight, she carried the thrill of her private indulgence—and the quiet comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in seeking a place to shed her public self, if only for a moment.

[kldax]

The comfort of a retirement home

My name is Jungho, and I have a knack for making people feel seen, especially those who often get overlooked. I work at Golden Years Retirement Home, a place where the whispers of past glories echo through the halls and the smiles come a little easier when the grandkids visit. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but it's one I took to heart after my grandmother passed away when I was just sixteen. Her gentle spirit and the emptiness she left behind convinced me to spend my days bringing warmth to the lives of those who need it most.

This afternoon, the buzz was electric. The residents had been talking about it for weeks - a visit from the K-pop sensation, ITZY. The five young women strutted through the home, their bright smiles and energetic dance moves bringing a spark to everyone's eyes, a momentary reprieve from the heaviness of aging. They performed their hits with gusto, the residents clapping along to the beat, some even trying to stand up and dance. After the show, the members mingled, taking selfies and signing autographs. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for my grandma, who had always loved music, especially the kind that brought people together.

As the event wound down, the members started to leave, but not all of them. Yuna, the youngest and most vibrant of the group, decided to stay behind. She looked around the room, her gaze landing on Mr. Kim, a widower who often sat alone in the corner, his eyes filled with a sadness that never truly left. She approached him, her pink hair bouncing with every step, and knelt down to listen. I watched from a distance, admiring her genuine kindness. They talked for a while, and he leaned into her, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. It was clear he needed someone to hear his stories, to feel less alone.

Curiosity piqued, I wandered the halls after they had disappeared into the depths of the home. The corridors grew quieter, the hum of the air conditioner a gentle white noise in the background. I peeked into open doors, catching glimpses of residents engaging in their daily routines – some knitting, others watching TV, and a few just resting with their eyes closed. Then, I saw it – a sliver of light from an open door at the end of the hall.

I tiptoed closer, not wanting to intrude, but the gentle murmur of voices grew more pronounced. Yuna's distinctive laughter danced through the air, mingling with the low rumble of Mr. Kim's. I paused outside the door, unsure if I should knock or simply leave them to their conversation. But as I hovered there, something in the air shifted, and I felt a strange tension coil around me like a snake.

With trepidation, I peered through the crack, expecting to see them sharing a cup of tea or maybe looking at old photographs. But what met my eyes was something entirely different. Yuna was on her knees, her white tank top hiked up to reveal her bare back, her meticulous make-up smudged slightly from the tears that glistened in her eyes. And Mr. Kim, his expression one of raw desperation, had his hands tangled in her pink hair. I blinked, hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me, but the sight remained the same. He was guiding her head back and forth, her pink lips wrapped around something I didn't dare acknowledge.

My breath hitched in my throat, my mind racing. I had never seen anything like this before, and the intimate scene was jarring against the sterile backdrop of the retirement home. The room was suffused with a tension so thick it was almost palpable, a stark contrast to the soft whispers and gentle smiles that had filled the air just moments ago. The only sound was the wet sucking noise she was making and the occasional low groan from Mr. Kim. It was a moment of raw human connection, but one that was deeply unexpected and unsettling.

Yuna paused, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of compassion and something else – something I couldn't quite place. She spoke in soothing tones, her voice a gentle melody that seemed to float in the silence of the room. "It's okay," she said, her words muffled. "Just relax." And then she took him in again, her eyes never leaving his. It was as if she was giving him not just physical pleasure, but a sense of solace, a reassurance that he wasn't entirely alone in his grief.

Mr. Kim's face contorted in a grimace that was part pain, part relief. His eyes squeezed shut, and his breathing grew erratic. "Everything will be fine," she whispered, her voice a soft caress that seemed to resonate within the very fabric of the room. She sucked with a gentle rhythm, her cheeks hollowing with every motion, and it was clear she was trying to bring him comfort in the most intimate of ways.

As I continued to watch, I felt an unexpected reaction stirring within me. The sight of this young, vibrant woman tending to the needs of an elderly man, bringing him pleasure amidst his sorrow, was strangely mesmerizing. My hand unconsciously moved to my own crotch, where I discovered that I was growing hard. I was shocked by my body's response to the scene, torn between the innate sense of privacy and the undeniable arousal that was building.

I leaned against the wall for support, trying to be as quiet as possible as I began to stroke myself through my pants. The friction was subtle at first, a gentle pressure that mirrored the rhythm of Yuna's movements. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but I couldn't look away either. There was something profoundly intimate about the moment, a silent agreement between the two that transcended the boundaries of age and propriety.

My hand moved faster as Mr. Kim's grip on her hair tightened. His breath grew ragged, and his hips began to thrust slightly, pushing himself deeper into her mouth. Yuna's eyes watered, but she never once stopped, her dedication to his pleasure unwavering. The sight of her, so giving, so beautiful in her act of kindness, was like a drug, and I found myself falling deeper under its spell with every second that passed.

Suddenly, Mr. Kim's voice grew louder, his words a guttural mix of Korean and English, a string of obscenities that seemed to hang in the air. "Suck it, baby," he groaned. "Just like that." Yuna's eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise flitting across her face, but she didn't stop. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat bobbing with each thrust.

"You're such a good girl," Mr. Kim continued, his voice strained. "Look at you, making this old man feel alive again." Yuna's eyes watered more, but she kept her gaze locked on his, nodding slightly as if to encourage him. His words grew more explicit, a deluge of filth that seemed to push the air out of the room and make it thick with desire.

"Do you like that, Yuna? Do you like being a dirty little slut for me?" His hands tightened in her hair, pulling her closer. She gagged, but managed to keep her rhythm, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cocoon of intimacy, a place where time had stopped and the only thing that mattered was the connection between them.

Then, with a final, primal groan, Mr. Kim released himself into her mouth. She took it all, her eyes never leaving his. His hips stuttered as he came, his grip on her hair loosening slightly. He was lost in the moment, his grief temporarily buried beneath the waves of pleasure she had brought him.

Yuna swallowed, her eyes watering even more, but she never broke their gaze. She kept moving her mouth until he was fully spent, his body going slack with the release. As she pulled back, a strand of saliva connected them for a brief moment before snapping away, leaving a sticky residue on her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, her eyes never leaving his.

Mr. Kim looked down at her, his expression one of bewilderment and gratitude. He reached out, placing a trembling hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Yuna offered a soft smile in return, her eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions. She climbed to her feet, her legs wobbly from the intensity of the situation. "It's okay," she said, her voice a gentle caress. "You needed this." She took a step back, allowing him to stand and guide him to his bed. He collapsed onto the mattress with a contented sigh, his eyes already heavy with sleep.

Leaning over him, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead, not bothering to wipe the lingering traces of his release from the corner of her mouth. It was a small act of affection that seemed to encapsulate the entirety of their shared moment. The room was still thick with the scent of sex and the aftermath of Mr. Kim's climax, but there was a quiet dignity to it, a silent acknowledgment that this was more than just a physical release.

As I stumbled away from the door, my heart racing, I couldn't shake the image of Yuna from my mind. Her selflessness in bringing comfort to Mr. Kim was a stark reminder of the complex tapestry of human needs, especially in a place like this where the line between care and companionship could sometimes blur. I found myself torn between the desire to confront her and the fear of breaking the spell she had cast over the sad-eyed widower.

The following week, I noticed a subtle change in the atmosphere of the retirement home. The whispers grew more frequent, and the glances I caught from the residents were knowing, filled with a spark of mischief that was alien to the usually solemn corridors. The rumor had spread like wildfire – Yuna had become the guardian angel of the lonely, the secret confidant who offered a unique form of solace. I had to admit, part of me felt a strange sense of pride in knowing that she had chosen our home to bestow her unorthodox form of kindness upon.

One evening, I decided to visit Mr. Kim's room, driven by the same curiosity that had led me to spy on them before. The door was ajar, and as I approached, I heard the low murmur of multiple voices. Cautiously, I pushed the door open and was met with a sight that would redefine my understanding of the word "unconventional". Yuna, dressed in a modest but equally revealing outfit, was surrounded by a small circle of elderly men, their eyes glued to her like moths to a flame.

Her pink hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, her white tank top and short gray skirt showcasing her youthful figure. Each man's face was etched with a mix of hope and desire, their hands trembling slightly as they reached out to touch her. She moved gracefully among them, her smile never faltering, her touch gentle and reassuring. It was clear that she had become a beacon of comfort in their lonely lives, a symbol of vitality in the face of their own mortality.

"What do you all want to do to me?" Yuna asked sweetly, her voice a siren's call in the quiet room. The men looked at each other, a silent communication passing between them, before one of them spoke up. "We want to see you, Yuna," he said, his voice shaking. "We want to see all of you."

Her smile grew a little wider, a knowing glint in her eye. "Alright, if that's what you wish," she whispered. Slowly, with the grace of a ballerina, she began to undo the buttons on her white tank top. The room held its collective breath as the fabric parted, revealing the soft swell of her small breasts, framed by a delicate pink lace bra. Her skin was porcelain, unblemished by the harshness of the outside world, a stark contrast to the wrinkled, age-spotted hands that reached out to touch her.

Mr. Kim looked on, his eyes shining with something that was no longer purely lustful but also filled with a sense of protectiveness. He had been the first to experience her gift, and now he watched as she shared it with the others. She stepped out of the circle, her gray skirt riding up slightly to reveal the tops of her stockings. The men leaned in, their eyes hungry for the sight of her youthful form.

"Very well," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. With the same gentle grace she had shown Mr. Kim, she began to unbutton her skirt. It slipped down her hips, revealing her matching pink lace panties. She turned around, bending slightly to allow them to see her small, round ass. The room was filled with the sound of their collective intake of breath.

The first old man, Mr. Park, reached out tentatively, his trembling hand landing on her buttock. He gave it a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing briefly as he took in the sensation. The others watched, their own hands itching with desire. Yuna didn't flinch, instead leaning back into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. This was the invitation they had all been waiting for.

Like a dam bursting, the other men surged forward, their hands eager and uncoordinated as they sought to claim a piece of her youth. They touched her everywhere – her breasts, her stomach, her thighs – their fingers tracing the curves and valleys of her body as if it were the map to eternal youth. She giggled, the sound tinged with a hint of nervousness, but she didn't resist, allowing them to explore. Their hands were a gentle storm, a reminder of the tactile connection they had lost in the march of time.

But then, amidst the frenzy, something changed. One of the men, Mr. Lee, his eyes wild with a desperation that had been building for years, grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. He spun her around, his grip tight, and pushed her onto the bed with surprising strength. His pants were already open, his cock standing tall and veined. He didn't bother with gentle coaxing or sweet words; he mounted her with the urgency of a dying man grasping at life.

The room grew still, the only sound the rustling of fabric and Mr. Lee's harsh breathing. Yuna's eyes went wide with shock, but she didn't struggle. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back, as if she knew that this was what he needed. The other men watched, their own desires now mirrored in Mr. Lee's actions. He thrust into her with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very bed, his hips pistoning as he claimed her young body.

The smell in the room was a potent mix of sweat and stale urine, a testament to the weeks Mr. Lee had gone without a proper bath. His skin was a patchwork of liver spots and wrinkles, a stark contrast to Yuna's flawless porcelain complexion. His cock was like a weapon, jutting out from his unkempt pubic hair, and as he plunged into her, the veins stood out like highways on a map. She took him without protest, her own hands roaming over his body, tracing the contours of his age.

Her pink hair was a vivid contrast to the sickly pallor of Mr. Lee's flesh, a stark reminder of the chasm between youth and age. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the delicate pink lace of her bra now discarded on the floor. Her nipples were hard, peaks of desire, standing out against the softness of her skin. Despite the harshness of his grip, her eyes remained open, her gaze locked on his as if trying to understand the depth of his need.

At first, she struggled, her hands pushing against his chest in a feeble attempt to resist his overpowering strength. But as the moments stretched on, she began to realize the futility of her efforts. His hands moved from her shoulders to her throat, his grip tightening until she could feel the beat of her heart in her ears, a muffled drumline that grew louder with every squeeze. Panic began to set in, her eyes bulging slightly as she gasped for air, her hands now clawing at his wrists.

"I'm going to cum inside you, Yuna," Mr. Lee grunted, his eyes glazed over with lust. His words were like a declaration of war, a promise that she had no choice but to endure. She could feel his cock swelling, the head of it pulsing against her cervix, and she knew he was close.

Her own body responded in a way she didn't fully understand, her inner muscles clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He grunted again, his thrusts growing more erratic. The room was a tableau of silent witnesses, the other men's eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them, their own cocks straining against their pants.

And then it was over. With a final, guttural shout, Mr. Lee released his grip on her neck, his seed spurting into her in hot, sticky bursts. She could feel each pulse of his release, filling her up until she was sure she would overflow. His eyes rolled back in his head, lost in the throes of his climax, his body shaking with the effort. Yuna's own orgasm washed over her, a wave of pleasure that seemed to cleanse her of the fear and disgust she had felt mere moments before.

The other men didn't waste a second. They descended upon her like vultures, eager to claim their prize. One by one, they took her, their age-spotted hands gripping her firmly as they thrust into her willing body. She became a vessel for their desires, their frustrations, their loneliness. Each man took his turn, panting and groaning as they emptied themselves into her, their eyes never leaving hers. It was as if they were all searching for something in her gaze, something that had long been lost to them in the march of time.

The room grew hot and sticky with the scent of their sweat and release. Yuna's moans filled the space, a symphony of pleasure and pain, a testament to the insatiable hunger of the elderly men. Her make-up was smeared, her clothes in tatters, and yet she remained unflappable, her pink hair a beacon in the sea of wrinkled flesh. They fucked her in every position imaginable, their trembling limbs finding surprising strength in their desperation. She took them all, her body a canvas for their passion, her voice a siren's song that beckoned them closer.

One by one, they stepped forward, each with their own twisted story of loss and loneliness etched on their faces. Mr. Choi, whose wife had left him for a younger man. Mr. Park, whose children never visited, leaving him to wilt in the twilight of his life. Mr. Kim, now with a newfound vigor, eager to claim his turn. They didn't speak much, their actions speaking louder than any words could. It was a silent pact, an understanding that they had found something precious in Yuna's embrace.

The night stretched on, a tapestry of grunts and sighs, of skin against skin, and the slap of flesh on flesh. The bed groaned with the weight of their collective need, the springs protesting under the relentless assault of their desire. Yuna's cries grew louder, more urgent, as the men took her, one after the other. They fucked her with a desperation that spoke of years of neglect and unspoken longing. Her body, once a bastion of youth and beauty, was now a battleground for their most primal instincts.

But she didn't protest, not truly. Instead, she accepted them all, her eyes never leaving Mr. Kim's. His gaze was filled with a mix of admiration and something else – something darker, more possessive. It was as if he had claimed her as his own, and she was willing to submit to his will. Her pink hair was a wild mane around her face, her make-up smeared, her clothes torn to shreds. Yet she remained a vision of beauty, her youthful vitality a stark contrast to the decay that surrounded her.

Word of Yuna's visits spread like wildfire through the retirement home. The whispers grew louder, the anticipation palpable. Each week, she would arrive dressed in a new outfit, something that would make their withered hearts skip a beat. The elderly men would gather in Mr. Kim's room, their eyes gleaming with excitement. They knew that tonight was their night.

Yuna had become their secret, their guilty pleasure. They had seen the way she looked at Mr. Kim, the way she took care of him, and they all wanted a piece of that tender care. They had lost so much in their lives – youth, health, and often, companionship. Her visits had become a beacon of hope, a reminder that there was still passion to be had, even in the twilight of their years.

[kldax]

Wonyoung's Secret Fanservice

Tags: Doggy Style, Deepthroating, Bathroom Sex, Creampie, Public Sex, Handjob

The fanmeet venue is buzzing with energy. Hundreds of DIVEs packed into the medium-sized hall in Seoul for IVE's special "REVIVE+ intimate fan sign & talk" event. The lights are soft pink and white, IVE's signature colors, and the long table stretches across the stage with all six members seated in a slight curve: Gaeul → Yujin → Rei → Wonyoung → Liz → Leeseo.

You've been a devoted Dive since ELEVEN days, collected every album, attended every comeback showcase you could afford. Today you somehow won the ultra-rare high-touch fansign lottery—one-on-one time with each member for about 30-40 seconds each, but the real prize is the random draw seating right at the very front row… directly in front of Jang Wonyoung.

She's devastating today.

Long, glossy dark brown hair cascades past her shoulders, those wispy see-through bangs framing her doll-like face exactly like the photo you just saw trending everywhere. She's wearing a cropped white knit top with thin straps that show off her collarbones and a pleated pastel mini skirt that's riding dangerously high whenever she shifts in her chair to talk to fans. Her lips are glossy pink-coral, and every time she smiles that signature eye-smile + lip-bite combo, the girl section behind you loses it.

The line moves. You're now second in line for Wonyoung.

She just finished signing for the guy before you. As he leaves, she leans forward slightly, forearms resting on the table, making the already low neckline dip a dangerous centimeter more. Her eyes flick up—and lock directly onto yours.

A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk curls the corner of her mouth. Like she already knows exactly what kind of fan you are.

You sit down in the chair across from her. The tablecloth is long enough to reach almost to the floor on both sides.

Wonyoung (soft, breathy voice, barely above a whisper so the staff and neighboring members don't catch it): "Hi again… my favorite tall Dive. You've been coming to every fansign this comeback cycle, haven't you?"

She slides your album toward herself, pen in hand, but her left hand disappears under the tablecloth—casually, like she's just adjusting her skirt.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

She opens the album to the page you marked, writes something quickly, then tilts her head like she's reading your expression.

Wonyoung (even quieter, lips barely moving): "Be very… very still, okay? And don't make any sound. Can you do that for me?"

Before you can even nod, you feel it.

Warm, delicate fingers brushing the inside of your thigh, then slowly—agonizingly—sliding higher under the table. She's still smiling perfectly for the fancam that's sweeping the crowd, chatting sweetly about the new title track with the fan next to you who's getting their Polaroid taken.

Her fingertips reach the bulge already straining against your jeans. She presses the heel of her palm flat against it, rubbing in the slowest, most torturous circle.

Wonyoung (pretending to ask you a normal question while leaning in so her hair curtains both your faces slightly): "Do you like the styling today…? I did the bangs just a little shorter… wanted to see if you'd notice."

Her fingers deftly pop the button of your jeans open—one smooth motion she's clearly practiced before. The zipper comes down next, muffled by the screams and cheers around you.

She's not looking down. She's maintaining perfect eye contact, that innocent angelic expression never faltering while her hand slips inside your boxers and wraps around you.

Fuck. She's warm. Her grip is firm but gentle, thumb brushing over the tip to collect the bead of precum that's already there.

The staff calls "time's almost up" for the person beside you.

Wonyoung doesn't stop.

Instead she leans even closer, pretending to point at something she wrote in your album.

Wonyoung (whispering directly against your ear, hot breath making you shiver): "They're going to call time in ten seconds… but I want to feel you finish first. Can you be a good boy and come quietly for me? Right here… with everyone watching and not knowing?"

Her hand starts moving—slow, deliberate strokes under the tablecloth, twisting slightly at the head the way you always imagined she would if she ever… if this ever happened.

The crowd is loud. Music is playing. Yujin is laughing at something Rei said. No one notices.

But you feel every single movement. Her long nails lightly grazing the underside. Her wrist flicking faster now. She's biting her lower lip like she's holding back her own moan.

Wonyoung (barely audible, lips brushing your earlobe): "Come on… give it to me. I want to feel it pulse in my hand while I smile for the next fan."

Your thighs tense. Breathing turns ragged. You grip the edge of the table so hard your knuckles go white.

She speeds up—short, tight strokes focused right under the head.

The staff member says loudly: "Time's up! Thank you~ Next please!"

Wonyoung doesn't let go.

Instead she gives one final, hard squeeze-and-twist while looking straight into your eyes with that devastatingly sweet smile.

You lose it.

Hot spurts coat her palm under the table. She keeps stroking through it, milking every last drop, expression never changing—like she's just saying goodbye to any other fan.

When you're done shaking, she slowly withdraws her hand, brings it up above the table as if nothing happened, and casually wipes it on the inside hem of her skirt where no one can see.

She closes your album, slides it back to you, and writes one last thing on the sticky note inside:

"Next fansign… bring a jacket. I'll need something to clean my mouth with. ♡ — WY"

Then she winks—tiny, secret, only for you—and calls sweetly:

"Next Dive, hi~!"

You stand on shaky legs, jeans somehow zipped back up without you even realizing she did it.

The crowd roars as the next person sits down.

You stumble back to your seat in the front row, heart still hammering.

Wonyoung glances at you one more time from across the table, licks her glossy lips once, and mouths two silent words

"Your turn next time."

The rest of the fansign continues without you fully there. Your legs feel like jelly as you stand up from the front row. Every step toward the exit aisle feels like it's being filmed in slow motion—Wonyoung is still at the table, head tilted sweetly while she signs for the next fan, but you swear her eyes flick toward you for half a second. That same tiny smirk. Like she knows exactly why you're leaving.

You push through the side door into the hallway leading to the restrooms. The noise of the event dulls to a muffled roar behind the heavy door. Fluorescent lights. Cold tile. The faint smell of hand sanitizer and industrial cleaner.

You lock yourself in the farthest stall, back against the door, breathing hard.

Your jeans still feel damp where she wiped her hand. Your pulse is hammering in your ears, in your throat, lower. The sticky note is burning a hole in your pocket.

You pull it out again.

"Next fansign… bring a jacket. I'll need something to clean my mouth with. ♡ — WY"

The little heart is drawn perfectly symmetrical, the way idols do when they know fans will screenshot and analyze it forever. Except this isn't for forever. This is for you.

Your mind replays it in fragments:

The way her fingers felt impossibly soft yet confident

How she never once looked down, never broke character for the cameras

The heat of her breath when she whispered against your ear

That final twist of her wrist that made your knees almost buckle

The casual way she cleaned her palm on the inside of her skirt like it was nothing

You lean your head back against the stall door and close your eyes.

Part of you wants to go back out there. Sit in your seat. Watch her for the next hour. See if she glances over again. See if she licks her lips when no one's looking.

But another part—the bigger part right now—is terrified. What if someone noticed? What if a fancam caught the way your face changed right at the end? What if staff reviews footage later?

And the worst part: what if she actually meant it about "next time"?

You splash cold water on your face at the sink. Look at yourself in the mirror. You look wrecked. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, lips parted like you just ran a sprint.

Phone buzzes.

A notification from the official IVE fancafe app (you have push alerts on for everything).

→ IVE Official posted: "Everyone who came to today's REVIVE+ fan sign ♡ Thank you for the unforgettable energy! We felt all your love~ Especially our tall Dive in the front row today… you looked a little… breathless? Take care and stay healthy 💕 #IVE #DIVE"

Attached is a group selca. Wonyoung is in the center, peace sign, head tilted. But her eyes are looking straight at the camera—like she's looking through it. Straight at you.

Your stomach flips.

You could go back in. Or you could leave now, go home, try to pretend this was a fever dream.

But deep down you already know you're not done.

You dry your face. Straighten your shirt. Check that your jeans are fully zipped and nothing looks suspicious.

The event wraps up around 9:40 PM. The MC thanks everyone one last time, the members wave and blow kisses for the final group photo, then disappear backstage to the usual chorus of screams and “Wonyoung-ah saranghae!” chants.

You don’t go back to your seat. Instead you slip out a side exit right after the lights come up, blending into the stream of fans heading toward the main lobby before veering left down a dimly lit service corridor most people don’t notice. You’ve done enough fan events to know the rough layout: artist vans usually park in the underground loading area behind the building, accessible via a narrow alley guarded by one or two staff and occasional security.

Outside it’s February-cold—sharp wind cutting through your jacket. You pull your hood up, find a spot half-hidden behind a concrete pillar about 20 meters from the black metal gate that leads to the loading dock. From here you can see the exit door fans are occasionally peeking at, hoping for a wave-through-glass moment.

Time drags. 10:05. 10:20. A few cars leave—staff, maybe backup dancers. Then nothing.

Around 10:35 the big sliding gate rattles open just enough for two black vans with tinted windows to pull out slowly. The first one rolls past without stopping. The second slows… then stops completely right in front of where you’re standing.

The rear passenger window cracks down about 10 cm.

You freeze.

Inside, back seat, low light: Wonyoung.

She’s changed—oversized black hoodie, hood up, face mask pulled under her chin, hair tucked into a loose ponytail. No makeup left except a faint gloss on her lips. She looks softer, smaller, almost normal… except for those eyes. Still sharp. Still locked on you.

She doesn’t speak at first. Just reaches out with two fingers and slips a small folded piece of paper through the narrow gap in the window. Her nails—still the pale pink from the fansign—brush your knuckles for half a second.

Then the window goes back up.

The van pulls away smoothly, taillights disappearing around the corner.

You unfold the note with shaking hands. It’s torn from the back of a schedule book or something—IVE logo watermark in the corner.

Handwritten in neat, loopy Hangul with a black gel pen:

오빠 오늘 진짜 잘 참았어 근데 다음엔… 나 입으로 해줄게 재킷 꼭 가져와 입 닦을 때 써야 하니까 ㅋㅋ 장소는 다음 팬싸 끝나고 여기로 와 기다릴게 ♡ — 원영이

(Translation in your head as you read it twice to make sure:)

Oppa you held it together so well today But next time… I’ll do it with my mouth Bring a jacket for sure I’ll need something to wipe my lips with lol After the next fansign, come to this place I’ll wait ♡ — Wonyeong-ie

Underneath the message is a tiny hand-drawn heart… and what looks like GPS coordinates scribbled in even smaller writing. You pull out your phone—coordinates point to a small, private café in Gangnam that’s known among some fan circles as a semi-safe “idol rest spot” after events. Open late, discreet back entrance, almost never paparazzi.

Your phone buzzes again. Same fancafe push notification system as before, but this time it’s not the official account.

It’s from an anonymous handle you’ve never seen post before: @wyprivate0613

One post. No profile pic. Just uploaded thirty seconds ago.

A mirror selfie: Wonyoung in the back of the van, hoodie up, mask down, tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip slowly. Caption:

“오늘 맛있었어… 다음엔 더 많이 먹고 싶어 🫦”

(Today was delicious… next time I want to eat a lot more 🫦)

The post is already getting likes from a handful of burner accounts before it vanishes—deleted within a minute. Classic ghost drop.

You stand there in the cold alley, heart slamming again, note clutched in your fist.

The next fansign is in ten days—IVE’s “春風春雨” mini fan event in a smaller venue in Apgujeong.

The alley feels colder the second the van disappears. You shove the folded note deep into your inner jacket pocket—like it’s evidence in a crime you’re both committing—and walk quickly back toward the main street. No looking back. No lingering. Heart still racing, but now mixed with something sharper: anticipation that’s already turning into obsession.

You take the subway home (line 2 to your small one-room in Sillim). The carriage is half-empty at this hour. You sit in the corner seat, hood up, replaying every second of the night on loop behind your closed eyes.

Her fingers. Her whisper. The way she cleaned her hand so casually. The ghost post that vanished like smoke. The promise: “next time… I’ll do it with my mouth.”

By the time you unlock your door it’s past 11:30 PM. February 25, 2026. Ten days until the Apgujeong mini fan event—“春風春雨” (Spring Breeze, Spring Rain) themed fansign. Smaller venue (only ~150–200 winners), supposedly more “intimate” according to the fancafe announcement. Which means closer tables. Less distance. Easier cover under long tablecloths.

You don’t sleep much.

Instead you:

Screenshot the deleted @wyprivate0613 post from your notification history (thank god for that 5-second buffer some apps keep).

Save the GPS pin for the Gangnam café (called “Moonlit Corner”—discreet, known for back booths and no-questions-asked service after midnight).

Check every IVE-related community: Pann, TheQoo, DC Inside, Twitter/X searches for fancams from today. Nothing obvious catches the under-table moment. Your face looks wrecked in a few wide shots, but no smoking gun. Yet.

Re-read her note twenty times. Translate it again just to feel the words sink in deeper. “오빠 오늘 진짜 잘 참았어” — you held it together so well today “근데 다음엔… 나 입으로 해줄게” — but next time… I’ll do it with my mouth “재킷 꼭 가져와 입 닦을 때 써야 하니까 ㅋㅋ” — bring a jacket for sure, I’ll need it to wipe my lips lol

The “lol” at the end is what breaks you. Casual. Playful. Like this is just another cute fan service… except it very much isn’t.

You spend the next few days in planning mode like you’re preparing for a military operation:

Buy a new, longer, darker jacket (black parka with deep inner pockets—something she can easily grab and use without it looking weird).

Renew your IVE fancafe membership to premium just in case it boosts draw chances (it doesn’t, but it makes you feel proactive).

Rehearse in your head: how to stay calm, how to breathe quietly, how not to moan when her lips close around you under the table in front of 200 people.

Edge yourself every night thinking about it—never finishing. Saving it. For her.

Check the date again and again. March 7, 2026. Saturday. 2 PM start.

The days crawl.

March 6 arrives. You win the draw (miraculously—second time in a row; some DIVEs are already side-eyeing your username in the winner list threads). Seat assignment: row 1, position 4. Dead center in front of Wonyoung again.

You pack the jacket. Fold her note into the inner pocket like a talisman. Charge your phone to 100%. Set multiple alarms.

Morning of March 7. You’re there three hours early. Queue is already snaking around the block. Fans in light spring coats, waving lightsticks. You keep your hood up, mask on, eyes down. Invisible.

Inside the venue: smaller stage than last time. Table even lower. Tablecloth drapes almost to the floor—perfect.

Wonyoung is dressed for spring: soft cream off-shoulder mini dress with puffed sleeves, hair in loose waves with tiny crystal clips. Glossy lips again—deeper rose this time. She looks like a porcelain doll someone forgot to keep innocent.

When your turn comes, she doesn’t even pretend surprise.

Wonyoung (voice honey-sweet for the mic, but eyes screaming something else): “Oppa… you brought it, right?”

You nod once—tiny, barely perceptible.

She signs your album slowly. Left hand disappears under the table again.

This time she doesn’t tease with fingers.

She leans forward like she’s reading what she just wrote, hair falling to curtain the side of your face from the nearest fancam.

Then—quietly, deliberately—she slides off her chair just enough to duck under the tablecloth in one fluid motion. The fabric barely ripples. To everyone else it looks like she dropped her pen or adjusted her shoe.

To you: sudden wet heat.

Her lips wrap around the head first—soft, plush, tongue flicking once to taste. Then she sinks deeper. No hesitation. No gagging. Just smooth, practiced glide until her nose brushes your pelvis.

You grip the table edge so hard the wood creaks.

She’s not rushing. Slow, deep bobs—cheeks hollowing each time she pulls back. Tongue flat against the underside on every upstroke. One hand braced on your thigh for balance, nails digging in just enough to keep you grounded.

The staff calls thirty seconds.

She speeds up—short, tight sucks focused on the head, hand twisting at the base in perfect sync.

You feel the coil tighten impossibly fast.

Wonyoung pulls off for half a second—just long enough to whisper so low only you hear it through the fabric:

“Jacket… now.”

You fumble it off your lap, bunch it in your hands under the table like you’re holding it for her.

She dives back down. Takes you to the hilt. Swallows around you once, twice—

You come hard. Silent. Vision whiting out. Pulse after pulse straight down her throat.

She doesn’t spill a drop.

When the staff finally says “Time’s up~”, she’s already back in her seat—flawless posture, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand like she just ate something sweet.

Your jacket is in her lap now. She dabs her lips with the sleeve—casual, hidden—then folds it neatly and slides it back across the table to you under the album.

On the last page she wrote:

“맛있었어 ♡ 다음엔 더 오래 해줄게 밤에 카페로 와 기다리고 있을게 — 원영이”

(Tasted so good ♡ Next time I’ll take longer Come to the café tonight I’ll be waiting — Wonyeong-ie)

She looks up at you with those big doe eyes and mouths one silent word before the next fan sits:

“Midnight.”

You leave the venue on autopilot. Jacket smells faintly of her lip gloss and something warmer.

The café coordinates are already saved.

The subway ride home from Apgujeong feels eternal—every stop a reminder of what just happened under that table. Your jacket is folded tightly in your bag now, the sleeve still faintly damp where she wiped her lips. No one around you suspects a thing; you're just another tired fan in IVE merch, staring at your phone screen like it's got answers.

Back in your Sillim one-room by 5 PM. You shower twice—scalding hot, then cold—to shake off the adrenaline fog. Scrub every inch like you're prepping for surgery. Change into something low-key: black jeans, plain gray hoodie, sneakers. Nothing flashy. You slip her first note (from the van) and the new one (from today) into your wallet—evidence you're not insane.

Dinner is a non-event: instant ramyeon you barely taste. You scroll IVE's fancafe instead—fans gushing about the fansign, uploading clips. In one wide-shot fancam, you spot yourself: frozen in the chair, knuckles white on the table, Wonyoung leaning in with that perfect smile. Comments call it "Wonyoung's ultimate fanservice moment ♡" No one knows. But you do.

11:30 PM. You leave early to account for traffic. Taxi to Gangnam—safer than subway at this hour. The driver chats about the weather turning warmer for spring; you nod absently, phone GPS locked on Moonlit Corner.

The café is tucked down a quiet side street off Garosu-gil: low brick exterior, frosted windows, a small neon sign that's more suggestion than advertisement. "Open 24/7" in cursive Hangul. You know from quick searches (done days ago) it's a known spot for idols—private booths, soundproofed back rooms, staff who sign NDAs like it's their job. No cameras inside. Cash only after midnight.

Exactly 12:00 AM. You push through the door. Soft jazz plays low. Dim lamps cast amber glows over empty tables. A lone barista (mid-30s, bored expression) glances up from behind the counter.

Barista (neutral, like he's seen this before): "Table for one? Or… waiting for someone?"

You mutter "Waiting," and he nods toward the back without another word. "Booth 7. Coffee's on the house."

Booth 7 is the last one—curtained off, deeper shadows. You slide in, heart slamming. The seat is plush leather, table low with a single candle flickering. Minutes tick by. 12:05. 12:10.

Then—soft footsteps. The curtain parts.

Wonyoung.

No idol armor this time. Oversized cream sweater that hangs off one shoulder, exposing a thin bra strap. Black leggings hugging her endless legs. Hair down, messy from the day, no makeup except smudged eyeliner that makes her look even more intoxicating. She's carrying a small black backpack, like she came straight from dorm or schedule.

She slips in across from you—no hello, just slides under the table in one graceful move before you can even speak. The curtain falls back into place.

Her hands are on your thighs immediately, spreading them apart. Zipper down. No teasing fingers this time—straight to her mouth. Warm, wet, enveloping you completely in one slow descent.

Fuck.

She's slower than at the fansign. Deliberate. Taking her time to explore—tongue swirling lazy patterns, lips sealing tight as she bobs deeper each time. No rush. No audience but you. Her hands brace on your hips, nails digging in rhythmically.

You grip the table edge, biting your lip to stay quiet. The jazz covers any soft sounds she makes—wet, obscene, but muffled.

She pulls back after a few minutes, just enough to look up at you from under the table. Eyes dark, lips shiny.

Wonyoung (whisper, voice husky from the effort): "Told you… longer this time. But don't come yet. I want to play first."

She dives back down—alternating deep throats with lighter licks, edging you mercilessly. One hand slips up your shirt to trace your abs; the other cups and squeezes gently below.

Time blurs. Five minutes? Ten? She's relentless, pausing only to catch her breath and murmur things like "You taste even better without the rush…" or "Hold it for me, oppa… just a little more."

When she finally senses you're at the edge—thighs shaking, breath ragged—she sinks all the way down, swallows around you, and hums low in her throat.

You come harder than before. She takes it all, throat working visibly, not pulling off until you're spent.

She emerges slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, then licking it clean like it's dessert. Slides back into the seat across from you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.

Wonyoung (smirking, voice still breathy): "See? Longer is better. But… we're not done. My dorm's empty tonight—members at schedules. Come back with me? I have a few more ideas… and no table to hide under."

She reaches across, fingers tracing your wrist. Her backpack buzzes faintly—probably her phone—but she ignores it.

The barista hasn't looked your way once.

You hesitate for maybe three seconds—long enough for her to notice, for that knowing little smile to curl her lips again.

Wonyoung (leaning across the low table, voice dropping to a velvet whisper): "Come on, oppa… don't make me beg in a café. My dorm is twenty minutes away. But if you're too impatient…"

She trails off, eyes flicking toward the narrow hallway at the back of Moonlit Corner. A discreet sign: "Restroom → Private". Single stall. Lockable door. The kind of place idols probably use when they need five minutes away from the world.

She stands first—casual, like she's just going to powder her nose. Grabs her backpack, slings it over one shoulder, and walks without looking back. You follow a beat later, heart in your throat.

The hallway is short, dimly lit. She pushes the door open, slips inside, leaves it cracked just enough. You step in behind her. Click. Lock.

It's small—barely room for two people standing close. Mirror over the sink, soft yellow light, faint scent of lavender hand soap. No windows. Soundproof enough.

She doesn't waste time.

Turns her back to you, braces both hands on the sink edge, arches slightly. The oversized sweater rides up just enough to show the waistband of her black leggings stretched tight over her ass.

Wonyoung (glancing at you in the mirror, eyes half-lidded): "Here. Now. Doggy… like I've been thinking about since the fansign."

You step up behind her. Hands on her hips first—firm, testing. She pushes back into you immediately, grinding slow circles. A soft whimper escapes when she feels how hard you already are again.

Leggings tugged down just past mid-thigh—no panties underneath. Smooth skin, perfect curve. She's already wet—glistening under the light. Probably has been since the café booth.

You don't bother with more foreplay. Line up, push in slow at first—inch by inch—until you're buried to the hilt. She gasps, head dropping forward, long hair spilling over her shoulders.

Wonyoung (voice breaking on the first thrust): "Fuck… yes… harder."

You give it to her.

Deep, steady rhythm—hips snapping forward, pulling her back onto you each time. The mirror shows everything: her mouth open in silent moans, eyes rolling back a little, cheeks flushed pink. One of your hands slides up under the sweater, cups her breast—small, perfect, nipple hard against your palm. The other grips her hip tight enough to leave marks she'll have to cover tomorrow.

She meets every thrust—pushing back, circling her hips, clenching around you on the upstroke until you're both shaking.

The sink rattles faintly. Water drips from the faucet she forgot to turn off all the way.

Wonyoung (panting, trying to keep quiet but failing): "Inside… come inside… want to feel it… please—"

You don't last much longer. Not after everything tonight.

One final, hard thrust—deep as you can go—and you spill into her. Pulse after pulse. She shudders, thighs trembling, a broken little cry slipping out before she bites her lip to muffle it.

You stay buried for a long moment, both breathing ragged. She clenches once more around you—milking the last drops—then slowly straightens.

Pulls her leggings back up. Fixes her sweater. Turns to face you.

Hair messy. Lips swollen. Eyes bright, satisfied, a little glassy.

She reaches up, cups your face with both hands, pulls you down for one slow, deep kiss—tasting faintly of coffee and herself.

Wonyoung (whisper against your mouth): "That was the last one for tonight… but not forever. Next fansign… maybe under the table again. Or my place when the members are gone longer."

She slips a small folded paper into your pocket—another note, probably coordinates or a time.

Then she unlocks the door, steps out first like nothing happened.

You wait thirty seconds. Splash water on your face. Adjust yourself. Walk out calm as you can.

She's already gone—van probably waiting in the alley behind the café.

You step back into the night air. February 25, 2026 is over.

But you know the next chapter isn't far.