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Marriage Night - Momo

OC X MOMO {20K WORDS}

Momo stirred awake slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the heavy curtains of her hotel suite. For a split second, everything felt normal—warm sheets tangled around her legs, the faint scent of her favorite vanilla candle lingering in the air, the distant hum of Seoul traffic far below. Then it hit her like a wave crashing over her head.

Today was her wedding day.

Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought it might bruise them. She sat up abruptly, the silk camisole slipping off one shoulder, and pressed a hand to her chest as if she could physically calm the frantic beating. Nervous. God, she had never felt this nervous in her entire life. Not during her first Twice showcase, not when they debuted on a global stage, not even during those endless world tours where thousands of ONCEs screamed her name. This was different. This was deeper, rawer, more terrifying.

And yet… underneath the panic, heat pooled low in her belly. Arousal. Sharp, insistent, almost embarrassing in its intensity. How could she be this turned on right now? On the morning she was supposed to walk down the aisle in a custom ivory gown that had taken three fittings and endless tears from the designer? Her thighs pressed together instinctively, and she felt the slick warmth between them. Oh god. She was soaked. Just from the thought of what today meant.

Momo swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood on shaky knees. The full-length mirror across the room caught her reflection: long dark hair messy from sleep, cheeks already flushed pink, nipples visibly hard against the thin fabric of her camisole. She looked like someone who had spent the night doing anything but sleeping, which she hadn’t. She’d barely slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, flashes came unbidden: his hands on her waist during their last private rehearsal dinner, the way he’d whispered “mine” against her ear when no one was looking, the promise in his eyes that tonight—after all the toasts and photos and polite goodbyes—he would finally take her as his wife in every possible way.

She bit her lip hard enough to sting. How had nervous and horny ended up tangled together like this? They weren’t supposed to coexist. Nervous was supposed to be cold sweats and racing thoughts. Horny was supposed to be lazy Sunday mornings or stolen moments in the practice room after everyone else had left. But here she was, heart pounding with terror and excitement in equal measure, core throbbing with need, thighs trembling just from standing.

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[electro469]

Melon Obsession | Sana x Fanboy Smut

What starts as a casual scroll through Instagram comments spirals into something dangerously intoxicating when Sana discovers a fan whose every post is an obsessive, breathtaking tribute to one part of her body—captured in ways no one else has dared. The shock melts into a forbidden spark of excitement, turning her usual caution into a daring impulse she can’t ignore. One secret message later, the boundaries between idol fantasy and reality dissolve in a private, pulse-racing encounter that promises to reward devotion in the most intimate way imaginable.

The air in the Twice dorm was thick and syrupy with the lethargy of a rare, unscheduled afternoon. A late-autumn sun, weak and golden, slanted through the living room windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the still air. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound, a constant, droning counterpoint to the occasional soft tap of a phone screen or the rustle of snack packaging. On the large sofa, Momo was curled into a ball, dead to the world, her soft snores a gentle rhythm. Across the room, Nayeon and Jihyo were hunched over a shared iPad, their heads close together as they debated something with fierce, whispered intensity, probably an online shopping cart.

Sana lay sprawled on her stomach on the plush carpet, a floor cushion propped under her elbows. She was clad in a simple grey sweatshirt and a pair of black shorts, her long, dark hair fanned out around her head like a halo. She was aimlessly scrolling through her Instagram, a bottomless pit of curated perfection and chaotic fan comments. It was a familiar ritual, a way to pass the time, to touch base with the universe that adored her. Most of it was a blur: hearts, emojis, declarations of love in a dozen languages. It was pleasant, background noise.

Then, a comment snagged her attention, a single thread of silver in a haystack of cotton.

It wasn't the usual "Sana unnie is so pretty!" or "QUEEN!" It was different. It was on a recent candid photo, one their manager had posted from the lounge of their music show prep room. In the picture, she was leaning forward, laughing at something Dahyun had said, the neckline of her sweater dipping just so. The comment read:

There is a geometry to your grace, a perfect, sloping equation that culminates in a apex of pure beauty. The gentle swell is not just form, but a poem written in flesh, a verse that makes the heart stutter and the breath catch in the throat.

A warmth bloomed in Sana’s chest, a slow, creeping heat that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. It was… poetic. Intensely specific. And undeniably arousing. She felt a faint blush creep up her neck. Who wrote this? Her eyes darted to the username: @SanaMelonMaestro.

A giggle almost escaped her. Melon Maestro? It was so absurd, so delightfully weird. Curiosity piqued, she tapped on the profile. The profile picture was what made her breath hitch. It was a high-quality fan-taken photo from one of their concerts. It wasn’t her face, or a full-body shot. It was a close-up, a slightly low-angle capture of her in one of their more daring stage outfits, the black fabric straining, the spotlight glinting off the sweat on her skin, artfully highlighting her cleavage. It was a stunningly intimate, almost reverent shot.

Before she could second-guess the impulse, her thumb tapped the ‘Posts’ tab.

The screen filled with a grid of images, and Sana’s brain short-circuited. Every single post, a mosaic of thumbnails, was the same. Hundreds of them. All her. But only one part of her. Close-ups from music video shoots. Zoomed-in frames from concert VCRs. Paparazzi-style snapshots from airport arrivals where she’d worn a low-cut top. Fan-cams that didn’t follow her dancing, but stayed locked on her chest, tracking its every movement as she breathed and performed. The captions were just as verbose and worshipful as the one she’d first read, detailed analyses of outfits, lighting, and the way different fabrics draped across her form.

She scrolled down, and down, and down. The numbers at the top of the profile burned into her retinas: 729 Posts. 78.4k Followers.

A small, strangled yelp escaped her lips. She fumbled the phone, it almost slipping from her grasp before she clutched it to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her face felt like it was on fire.

“What was that?” Nayeon’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and curious. “You okay, Sana-yah?”

Sana scrambled to sit up, shoving her phone face down onto the carpet as if it were a venomous snake. “N-nothing!” she stammered, her voice an octave too high. “Just… just saw a scary Instagram reel. A zombie, or something.”

Jihyo looked over, a skeptical arch to her brow. “A zombie? You screamed like you saw a spider.”

“A very, very realistic zombie!” Sana insisted, waving a hand dismissively, her blush betraying her. She could feel their eyes on her, and she desperately wanted the floor to swallow her whole. “I’m fine, really. Just… jumpy.”

Momo stirred on the sofa, muttering something about cheese in her sleep before settling again. Nayeon and Jihyo exchanged a look but mercifully turned back to their iPad, losing interest. Sana let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and collapsed back onto the cushion, her mind racing.

729 posts. The number echoed in her head. All dedicated to her breasts. It was objectifying, invasive, and more than a little creepy. And yet… that first comment. The poetry. The sheer, unadulterated dedication. This wasn't just some horny teenager. This was a connoisseur. A Maestro. The absurdity of it made her want to laugh, but a darker, more thrilling thought was taking root.

That evening, after a quiet dinner and a half-hearted attempt at watching a movie together, Sana excused herself and retreated to the sanctity of her bedroom. She locked the door, the soft click a finality that made her pulse quicken. She sat on the edge of her bed, the soft lamplight casting a warm glow around her. She picked up her phone, her fingers trembling slightly.

She found her way back to @SanaMelonMaestro. This time, she didn’t just scroll. She dove in. She watched a fan-cam from their Tokyo Dome concert, the camera impossibly steady, its focus absolute as she performed a particularly vigorous dance routine. She read a caption praising the way a specific silk blouse from a photoshoot created a "shadowed valley of profound intrigue." She saw posts from their world tour, evidence that this person—this fan—had traveled from Seoul to Paris to New York, all for the sake of capturing these specific, fleeting moments.

The initial shock began to morph into something else. A strange, potent mix of flattery and power. JYP Entertainment’s security team would have a field day with this. A phone call, a report, and the account would likely be gone in a heartbeat. It was the logical, safe, correct thing to do.

But the thought felt… wrong. This was worship. Twisted, obsessive, and utterly singular, but worship nonetheless. He hadn't just noticed her; he had devoted himself to a part of her that she was sometimes self-conscious of, sometimes proud of, but always aware of. He had spent countless hours and who knew how much money to build this shrine. To simply delete it felt like… a waste. An insult to the sheer passion of the enterprise.

A wicked, thrilling idea began to unfurl in her mind, dangerous and intoxicating. Why should he get his reward only through a screen? Why should he be limited to pixels and captions? He had put in the work. He had curated the ultimate collection. Didn't he deserve to see the art up close? To experience it in the flesh?

A slow, sly smile spread across Sana’s face. Her fanmeets were controlled, chaotic blurs of a hundred faces and fleeting handshakes. This would be different. This would be a one-on-one. A private viewing. A secret, sacred ceremony.

She opened her verified Instagram account. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting a message that was both a test and an invitation.

@SanaMelonMaestro, she typed. I must say, I’m impressed with your… collection. You have a truly discerning eye. It seems you appreciate fine art. I’d be interested in offering you a private showing. A chance to see the masterpiece in person. Let me know if you’re interested.

She hit send before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding, a wild drumbeat of adrenaline and arousal. A minute passed. Then five. Just as she was starting to think it was a ridiculous, impulsive mistake, her phone buzzed.

A new message from @SanaMelonMaestro.

It was a torrent of text. disbelief. frantic questions. A desperate, pleading ‘YES. YES. OF COURSE. I AM INTERESTED MORE THAN ANYTHING.’

Sana’s smile widened. It was working. She was in control. For the next hour, they messaged back and forth. She, cool and commanding, laid out the terms. A discreet, high-end hotel. A neutral-sounding room number. A specific time. He was to tell no one. Come alone. No cameras. No phones. This was not a fanmeet to be documented. It was a memory to be earned.

He agreed to everything, his devotion pouring through the screen in a torrent of grateful, ecstatic capital letters. Sana finally put her phone down, a deep, satisfied sigh escaping her lips. The boring afternoon had vanished, replaced by the electric thrill of a conspiracy. She was no longer just an idol on a screen. She was the curator, and tomorrow, she was going to deliver her most devoted patron the ultimate reward. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, a promise of the exciting, dangerous indulgence to come.

* * *

The next afternoon felt surreal. Sana moved through her pre-meet ritual with a strange, detached calm, as if she were watching someone else. She told her manager she was meeting an old friend for a private coffee, a lie that slid off her tongue with practiced ease. Dressed in a chic, cream-colored trench coat over a simple, form-fitting black turtleneck dress and heeled boots, she looked like she was stepping off the cover of a fashion magazine, not en route to a clandestine encounter. The scent of her favorite Jo Malone perfume, a delicate blend of wood sage and sea salt, clung to her skin, a fragrant armor.

The hotel was one of those exclusive, modernist towers in Gangnam, known for its discretion and breathtaking views. She bypassed the main lobby, using a private side entrance as instructed, the sleek keycard feeling cool and heavy in her hand. The elevator ride to the 37th floor was silent, her reflection in the polished chrome doors a composed, beautiful stranger. A knot of anticipation tightened in her stomach, a thrilling mix of fear and arousal.

The suite was just as she’d imagined: understated luxury. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the sprawling city. The furniture was minimalist and expensive, the air conditioned to a perfect temperature. She shrugged off her trench coat, draping it over a plush armchair, and took a moment to steady herself. She was Sana of Twice. A global superstar. And in this room, for the next few hours, she was simply the object of one man’s singular, obsessive desire. The power was intoxicating.

At precisely 4:00 PM, a soft, hesitant knock echoed through the suite.

Her heart gave a lurch. Showtime.

She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress, and walked to the door. She didn't look through the peephole. She wanted the raw, unfiltered reveal. She turned the handle and pulled the door open.

He stood there, exactly as his online persona suggested: a man in his mid-twenties, with a slightly rumpled but earnest look. He was taller than she expected, with a lean, athletic build that hinted at regular gym sessions. He had kind eyes, currently wide with a mixture of shock and utter disbelief, and soft brown hair that was neatly styled. He clutched a leather jacket in his hands like a security blanket. He was, Sana noted with a private, satisfied smile, objectively handsome. This was going to be more fun than she’d anticipated.

“Alex?” she said, her voice a low, melodic purr.

He could only manage a shaky nod, his mouth slightly agape as he took her in. “S-sana…ssi…” he stammered, his voice cracking. “I… you’re real.”

Sana laughed, a light, musical sound that seemed to break his trance. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. “I am. Please, come in.”

He shuffled into the room, his movements awkward, his eyes scanning every detail before snapping back to her as if afraid she might vanish. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound sealing them in their private world.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered, moving toward the small, well-stocked bar. “Water? Or something stronger?”

“Water is fine, thank you,” he managed, his gaze fixed on her.

She poured two glasses from a crystal carafe, handing one to him. Their fingers brushed, and she felt a jolt from him, a visible tremor. He took a quick, nervous gulp.

She settled onto one of the velvet armchairs, crossing her legs slowly. The black dress rode up just a fraction, drawing his eyes. She let him look, enjoying the effect she had on him.

“So,” she began, swirling the water in her glass. “Alex. We have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded again, standing stiffly near the door. “Anything. I’ll answer anything.”

“Good. First, relax. I don’t bite,” she said, though the glint in her eye suggested otherwise. She gestured to the sofa opposite her. “Sit.”

He practically fell onto the sofa, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt. Sana leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. The position caused the neckline of her dress to shift, drawing his immediate, helpless attention. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Let’s start with the obvious,” she said softly. “Your… collection. It’s quite extensive. Devoted, even.”

A deep blush spread across his cheeks, but he met her eyes, a flicker of his online confidence showing through. “I know it must seem… extreme. But it’s not just a hobby. It’s… appreciation.”

“Appreciation,” she repeated, tasting the word. “That’s what I want to understand. Why me, Alex? Out of all the idols, all the women in the world… why are you so obsessed with my… with me?”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts for a dissertation. “It’s not just one thing. It’s everything. The way you move on stage, it’s not just dancing, it’s… storytelling. Your expressions, your aegyo, it’s all part of this incredible package. But then… there’s *that*. The way you carry yourself. You have this… this perfect balance of elegance and a hidden, breathtaking sensuality. And that… that sensuality finds its focal point in your chest. It’s the heart of your power, in a way.”

Sana felt a flush of genuine heat. He wasn’t just a horny fan; he was an analyst. A zealot.

“An interesting theory,” she mused, uncrossing her legs and leaning back. The movement was deliberate, a slow, hypnotic shift. “But let’s be frank. You’ve seen the others. You go to our concerts. You see Momo, with her athletic, powerful physique. Jihyo, who is, shall we say, generously endowed. By many standards, they are… bigger. Why not dedicate your shrine to them?”

This was the test. The core of his obsession.

Alex shook his head immediately, his expression turning almost reverent. “No. You don’t understand. It’s not about size. It’s about perfection. It’s about form and symmetry and… personality.”

He leaned forward, his nervousness replaced by a passionate intensity. “Jihyo is beautiful, but it’s a… a bold, loud beauty. Momo is incredible, but it’s a sharp, athletic beauty. Yours… yours is like a work of classical art. It’s the subtle slope, the perfect teardrop shape. The way they move when you walk, when you breathe. It’s not just… tissue. It’s a sculpture. The ratio, the lift, the way they sit on your frame… it’s mathematically, aesthetically flawless. They’re not just big, they’re perfect. They’re you.”

His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes shining with a feverish devotion. Sana was mesmerized. She had never heard her body described with such a blend of clinical precision and worshipful poetry. It was the most objectifying, and yet the most flattering, thing she had ever heard. A shiver ran down her spine, settling deep in her core.

“So,” she said, her voice now a husky whisper. “To you, I’m a… a masterpiece.”

“You are the masterpiece,” he corrected without hesitation. “The Sistine Chapel of cleavage.”

A genuine, unguarded laugh escaped her. It was absurd. It was insane. And it was turning her on more than she could have ever imagined. She stood up, slowly, and walked toward him. He watched her approach, his breath held in his chest, his body rigid.

She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, smell the scent of her perfume. She looked down at him, a goddess looking down at her most devout follower.

“You’ve spent years looking at pictures, Alex,” she said, her voice barely audible. “You’ve studied the art from every possible angle. You’ve written sonnets about the shadows and the light.”

She reached out a single finger and gently tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“Are you ready,” she breathed, “for a hands on experience?”

A strangled sound, half-gasp, half-sob, was his only reply. He looked like a man witnessing a miracle, his face pale, his eyes burning with a feverish intensity. Sana’s smile widened. This was it. The culmination of his years of obsessive devotion.

She took a deliberate step back, giving him a full view. With agonizing slowness, her fingers found the hem of her black turtleneck dress. She peeled the clingy fabric upwards, revealing the smooth, toned skin of her stomach, the delicate shadows of her ribcage. His breath hitched, his knuckles white where he gripped his own leather jacket.

As the dress cleared her chest, his masterpiece was revealed. She wore nothing underneath. Her breasts settled into their perfect, teardrop shape, pale and flawless in the soft lamplight. They were not large in a cumbersome way, but exquisitely proportioned to her frame, full and heavy with a gentle, natural slope. Her nipples were a dusty rose, tightening instantly in the cool air, blooming into hard, sensitive points that seemed to ache for attention.

She pulled the dress over her head and let it pool at her feet. She stood before him in only her tiny black lace panties and heeled boots, a goddess carved from ivory and desire. Let him look. Let him see that the art he had worshipped through pixels was real, and infinitely more breathtaking.

“You can breathe, Alex,” she murmured, her voice a low, sultry tease.

He let out a shuddering gasp, as if he’d been holding his breath for years. His eyes were wide, devouring the sight of her. “They’re… perfect,” he whispered, the words full of reverence.

“I know,” she said, her voice laced with confident power. She took a step closer, her knees brushing against his. “Now, touch them. Show me.”

His hands trembled as he raised them, hovering so close she could feel the heat radiating from his palms. He was afraid, she realized, afraid to touch the holy grail. Sana took pity on him. She reached out and took his wrists, her touch firm and sure, and she placed his hands directly onto her breasts.

The moment his skin made contact with hers, a jolt shot through them both. His hands were warm, a little rough, and they felt glorious against her sensitive flesh. He cupped her, his palms molding perfectly to her weight, his thumbs brushing reverently against the soft undersides. He just held them for a moment, his eyes closed, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face.

“Feel that?” she whispered. “That’s real.”

He opened his eyes, and they were shining. He began to move his hands, his touch still worshipful but growing bolder. He traced the full, heavy curve of them, his fingers learning the topography of her skin. He ran his thumbs over her aching nipples, and Sana couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped her lips, her back arching instinctively, pushing her tits further into his hands.

“More,” she commanded, her voice husky. “Use your mouth.”

Leaning forward, he obeyed. He didn’t go straight for the peaks. Instead, he pressed his face into the soft valley between her breasts, inhaling deeply, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. He licked a slow, wet trail up the slope of her right breast until he reached her nipple. He flicked his tongue over the tight bud, and she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

He took the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and his lips creating a firm, sucking pressure. It was incredible. He was a natural, his every movement guided by years of obsessive fantasy. He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, licking, sucking, and then—oh god—he gently scraped his teeth against her sensitive nub.

“Fuck!” Sana gasped, the sharp, unexpected pleasure shooting straight to her cunt, making her soaked. Her panties were drenched, her clit throbbing with a desperate, insistent need. He bit down again, a little harder this time, and her knees went weak. She had to grab his shoulders to steady herself.

He was lost in it, a man worshipping at his altar. He squeezed her tits together, his hands firm and demanding, and flicked his tongue back and forth between her nipples, alternating between soft licks and hard, biting sucks. Sana was writhing, a litany of curses and moans falling from her lips. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pure sensation.

But she was still in control.

“Enough,” she breathed, pushing him gently away. He looked up at her, his face flushed, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes dazed with lust. “Your turn to lie down.”

He didn’t question her. He scrambled back onto the sofa, lying on his back, his chest heaving. His hard cock was straining against the zipper of his jeans, a clear, desperate outline. Sana smiled, a slow, predatory grin. She climbed onto the sofa, straddling his waist but not putting her full weight on him.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered.

He did. Sana leaned forward, supporting herself on her arms, and lowered her breasts until they brushed against his face. He gasped, his hands coming up to clutch her hips. She rubbed her tits all over him, against his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. She dragged her hard nipples across his stubble, the friction sending sparks through her own body. She was giving him a boob massage, letting him feel the soft weight, the warm skin, the intimate press of her flesh against his. She could feel his ragged breath against her cleavage.

“Keep them closed,” she whispered, climbing off him.

She walked to the ensuite bathroom, her hips swaying. She returned a moment later with a small, complimentary bottle of massage oil. She knelt beside him on the sofa.

“Open your eyes,” she said. “Watch this.”

She poured a stream of the warm, scented oil directly onto her chest. It trickled down her skin, making her breasts gleam in the light. She set the bottle down and began to massage the oil in, her hands sliding over her slick skin, cupping and squeezing her own tits. His eyes were locked on her hands, on the way her oiled nipples glistened, and he let out a low, guttural groan.

“You like that?” she purred. “You like watching me play with my tits?”

“God, yes,” he choked out.

“Good,” she said. “Because now, they’re going to play with you.”

She moved down his body, her oiled breasts leaving a trail on his skin. She quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, tugging them and his boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, thick, long, and rock-hard, the head already glistening with precum. It was perfect.

Sana shuffled forward, positioning his cock between her slick breasts. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, as she pressed her tits together, enveloping him in a soft, warm, oily tunnel.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his head falling back against the sofa cushions.

She began to move. She slid her breasts up and down his shaft, the oil making the movement impossibly smooth and slick. With every upward stroke, the flushed head of his cock would emerge from between them, and she would flick her tongue against it, tasting the salty precum. He was writhing beneath her, his hands fisted in the sofa cushions, his hips bucking up to meet her movements.

“Look at me,” she demanded. “Watch me fuck your cock with my tits.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto hers. The sight of her, her body gleaming with oil, her breasts wrapped around his dick, was almost too much for him. She picked up the pace, her movements becoming faster, more demanding. She squeezed her tits tighter around him, increasing the friction.

“Is this everything you dreamed of?” she panted, her own arousal building to an unbearable peak.

“It’s better,” he gasped. “So much better…”

“Then cum for me,” she commanded, her voice a raw, husky cry. “Cum all over my fucking tits. Mark me.”

That was it. That was all it took. With a loud, strangled shout, his back arched off the sofa. He came hard, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock, painting her chest, her neck, her oiled breasts. It was a primal, filthy, perfect climax to his ultimate fantasy.

He collapsed, boneless and panting. Sana sat back, looking down at the mess he’d made. A deep, feral satisfaction coursed through her. She was covered in his cum, the evidence of his obsession. And yet, her own cunt was still throbbing, still desperate and empty. She was far from finished.

She looked at him, at his sated, exhausted form, and a wicked thought entered her mind. She crawled up his body, her cum-slick tits dragging against his skin. She straddled his face, her dripping pussy just inches from his mouth.

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and renewed hunger. “Sana…”

“I’m not done with you yet, Melon Maestro,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “You made a mess. Now you’re going to clean it up, and then you’re going to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. She shifted forward, lowering her cum-splattered chest toward his mouth. It was a test. A final, debasing act of worship. For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering from her eyes to the sticky, pearly fluid coating her skin. Then, his devotion won out. He closed his eyes and leaned in, his tongue tentatively licking a bead of his own cum from the swell of her breast.

A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in Sana’s chest. “That’s it,” she encouraged, her voice softer now, a reward for his obedience. “Clean me. All of it.”

He became lost in the task. He licked her skin with long, slow strokes, his tongue hot and rough. He cleaned the slick valley between her tits, tasting the mixture of oil, sweat, and his own seed. He sucked gently on her nipples, now sensitive and swollen from his earlier attention, making her shudder. He was thorough, meticulous, leaving no patch of skin untouched. He wasn't just cleaning her; he was anointing her, a final act of contrition before the main event.

When he was finished, her chest was clean, gleaming with his saliva. Sana felt a primal thrill surge through her. He had submitted completely.

“Good boy,” she murmured, sliding back down his body. His cock, which had softened slightly, was already stirring back to life, rising to the occasion with impressive speed. He was young, virile, and utterly captivated. He was ready for her.

She took hold of his slick, hardening shaft, giving it a few firm strokes. He groaned, his hips bucking into her hand. “Please, Sana…” he begged. “I need you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice thick with her own desire. She positioned the head of his cock at her dripping entrance, not yet taking him in. “But you’re going to fuck me how I want, when I want. Understand?”

“Yes,” he choked out. “Anything.”

With a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, she sank down onto him. He slid into her hot, tight cunt with exquisite ease, stretching her, filling her completely. A long, guttural moan was torn from both of their lips. Sana paused, savoring the sensation of being full, of having him inside her at last. She braced her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into his muscles.

She began to move, a slow, grinding rhythm at first. She rolled her hips, swirling them in tight circles, feeling every inch of him rubbing against her inner walls. Her tits, still damp and sensitive, swayed with her movements, capturing his rapt attention. He watched them, mesmerized, as if he couldn’t believe his fantasy had culminated in this very moment.

“Eyes on my face,” she commanded, her voice sharp.

He tore his gaze from her chest and met her eyes. The raw, desperate lust she saw there sent a jolt straight to her clit. She picked up the pace, her movements becoming faster, more erratic. She bounced on his cock, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing in the quiet room. She was chasing her own release now, using his body as the instrument of her pleasure. He was just along for the glorious, unbelievable ride.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she panted, her head falling back, her dark hair a wild curtain around her face. “Your cock is mine.”

“It’s yours,” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip her waist, his fingers digging into her skin. “All yours.”

She leaned forward, changing the angle, and his cock slammed directly into her G-spot. A sharp cry escaped her, a blinding flash of pleasure. “Right there,” she moaned. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He thrust up to meet her, his movements growing frantic, driven by a desperate need to please her. The coil of tension in her belly wound tighter and tighter, a white-hot knot of pure ecstasy. The world narrowed to the feeling of him pounding into her, the sight of his face contorted in pleasure, the sound of their ragged breaths mingling in the air.

“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her voice high and thin. “Oh, fuck, Alex, I’m gonna cum!”

Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, a violent, shuddering release that stole her breath and blinded her. Her cunt clenched around his cock, milking him, pulling him over the edge with her. With a loud, guttural roar, he came, his hips jackhammering up into her as he flooded her with his hot release.

She collapsed onto his chest, her body trembling and limp, her heart hammering against his. They lay there for a long time, a tangled, sweaty heap of limbs, the only sound in the room their harsh, uneven breathing. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a raw, animalistic perfume.

Eventually, Sana stirred. The post-orgasmic haze was beginning to clear, replaced by the cold, sharp clarity of her purpose. She pushed herself up, his softened cock slipping out of her. A trickle of their combined fluids dripped down her thigh.

She stood up on unsteady legs and walked into the bathroom without a word. She cleaned herself up, wiping away the sticky evidence of their encounter. When she emerged, Alex was sitting up on the sofa, pulling on his jeans. He looked dazed, his expression a mixture of profound satisfaction and burgeoning panic.

Sana ignored him. She walked over to where her dress lay on the floor and pulled it on, the cool fabric a stark contrast to her still-flushed skin. She smoothed it down, her movements once again graceful and composed. She was no longer the wanton goddess; she was Sana of Twice, and the mask of an idol was firmly back in place.

She turned to face him. He was fully dressed now, standing awkwardly by the door. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

“This never happened,” she said, her voice cold, flat, and utterly devoid of the passion from moments before. It was the voice she used with sasaengs, with overstepping journalists. The voice that carried the full weight of JYP Entertainment behind it.

He flinched but nodded quickly. “I know. I won’t say anything. I swear.”

“You’d better not,” she continued, her eyes like chips of ice. “If I ever see so much as a vague allusion to this on any of your pathetic little fan accounts, I will personally make sure you’re sued into oblivion. I will make your life a living hell. You will never be able to get within a hundred feet of a Twice event for the rest of your life. Do you understand me, Alex?”

He paled, his bravado and devotion completely gone, replaced by sheer terror. “Yes. Yes, I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “You got what you wanted. And I got what I wanted. Now get out.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He fumbled for the door handle, his hands shaking so badly he could barely turn it. He cast one last, terrified look back at her before fleeing into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him with a sound of finality.

Sana stood alone in the center of the room. The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, a potent cocktail of power and lingering arousal. She walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen, and a dark blush still stained her cheeks. She looked thoroughly, satisfyingly fucked.

A slow, secret smile spread across her face. The risk had been immense, the potential for catastrophic disaster overwhelming. But the reward… the reward was a memory she would cherish forever. The thrill of absolute control, the raw, unfiltered worship, the pure, animalistic sex.

It had opened a door inside her, a door to a world of secret, dangerous indulgences. And as she turned to leave the suite, her steps confident and sure, she knew, with a thrilling certainty, that she would be walking through that door again.

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Where reality marges with wildest imaginations. All about K-Pop, BLACKPINK and Jisoo💜

[lessserseller]

Barren Heat

ft. TWICE's Sana

Words: 1,992 Tags: Mother x Son, Taboo, Incest, Vanilla

How long can you survive on the fading echo of love that hasn’t touched you in a lifetime?

Sana Minatozaki had once been the radiant center of Twice, her bubbly charm and sultry dance moves captivating millions. But life took an unexpected turn in her early twenties when she discovered she was pregnant. Choosing family over fame, she retired from the group, stepping away from the spotlight to raise her son alone after her husband tragically passed away in a car accident just two years later.

Now, at 42, Sana lived a quiet life in a cozy apartment in Seoul, her days filled with freelance design work and cherishing every moment with her 18-year-old son, Haru. She was a pillar of kindness, always quick with a warm hug or a homemade meal, her love for Haru boundless and fierce. Though years of widowhood had left her body aching with unmet desires—nights spent tossing in bed, her fingers occasionally wandering but never quite satisfying—she poured all her energy into being the perfect mother, her youthful beauty undimmed by time. Her lithe figure, still toned from occasional yoga, and her bright smile made her seem eternally young.

One humid summer evening, Haru finished his shower after soccer practice, the steam billowing out as he wrapped a towel loosely around his waist. Sana was in the living room, folding laundry, when he emerged from the bathroom down the hall. 'Mom, have you seen my phone charger?' he called, stepping into the open doorway without a second thought. As he bent to rummage through a drawer, the towel slipped free, falling to the floor. There, exposed in the soft light, was his cock—thick and semi-erect from the warm water, hanging heavily between his toned thighs, the circumcised head smooth and pink, balls dangling low beneath a trim patch of dark hair.

Sana's eyes widened, her hands freezing mid-fold. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. It had been so long since she'd seen a man's body up close, let alone one so vital and familiar. A forbidden thrill stirred in her core, her pussy clenching involuntarily, a rush of wetness soaking her panties. Haru's body was that of a young man now—broad shoulders, defined abs from sports, and that impressive length that made her throat dry. She snapped her eyes up just as he straightened, grabbing the towel to cover himself, his face flushing crimson.

'S-sorry, Mom! I didn't mean—' he stammered, backing away.

'It's okay, sweetie,' Sana managed, her voice breathy, forcing a smile as she turned back to the laundry. But inside, her mind raced with illicit images—how it would feel in her hand, against her skin. She scolded herself, but the ache between her legs persisted, a reminder of her loneliness.

Later that night, over dinner, Haru fidgeted with his chopsticks, his usual easy chatter subdued. Sana watched him, her heart swelling with maternal pride, though the earlier glimpse lingered like a secret spark. 'Mom,' he finally said, setting down his bowl, 'can I ask you something? About… girls?'

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, then softened with delight. 'Of course, Haru. What's on your mind?'

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. 'There's this girl at school, Ji-eun. She's amazing—smart, funny, with the kindest eyes. I really like her, but I don't know how to… you know, show her. How to court her properly, like in those old movies you love.'

Sana's heart melted at his earnestness. Her son, so sweet and romantic, seeking her guidance. The caring mother in her surged forward, pushing aside the day's confusion. 'Oh, Haru, that's wonderful. Courting is about being genuine, showing her your heart. But actions speak loudest—gentle touches, shared moments that build trust.' She reached across the table, squeezing his hand. 'Let me help you practice. It'll be our little secret, okay? Just to build your confidence.'

Haru nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with trust. After dinner, they moved to the living room couch, the TV off, the room lit by a soft lamp. Sana sat close, her sundress hugging her curves, the fabric thin against her braless breasts. 'First things first,' she said with a cute tilt of her head, her voice playful yet tender, 'a kiss. It's the sweetest way to start. Watch how I do it—imagine she's Ji-eun.'

She leaned in slowly, her hand cupping his cheek, guiding his face to hers. Haru's breath hitched, but he followed, lips parting slightly. Their mouths met softly at first, a brush of warmth, but Sana deepened it, her lips pressing firmly against his, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his mouth. He responded instinctively, opening to her, their tongues tangling in a slow, passionate dance. She sucked gently on his lower lip, then his upper, her free hand resting on his thigh, the kiss growing heated—wet sounds filling the air as she poured years of pent-up longing into it, yet keeping it pure, like a lesson in love. Haru moaned softly into her mouth, his hands hovering before settling on her waist.

Pulling back slightly, breathless, Sana smiled, her eyes sparkling. 'See? Passionate, but with care. It makes her feel cherished.' Haru's face was flushed, his cock stirring visibly in his shorts. 'Mom… that was… you're so beautiful when you kiss like that.'

Her heart fluttered at his words, a mix of pride and something deeper. 'Next, touching. To show affection, you hold her close, let her feel your desire without rushing.' With a shy but determined look, she took his hand, guiding it to the front of his shorts. 'Like this—let her touch you, feel how you respond to her.' Her fingers wrapped around his bulge through the fabric, squeezing gently, feeling him harden fully under her palm. Haru gasped, but didn't pull away, his eyes locked on hers with adoration.

Emboldened, she tugged down his waistband, freeing his cock. It sprang up, rigid and veined, the head glistening with a bead of precum. Sana's breath caught—it was even more striking up close, throbbing in her grip as she stroked slowly from base to tip, her thumb circling the sensitive underside. 'Mom… your hand feels like heaven,' Haru whispered, voice thick with emotion. 'You're the most caring person I know. I love how you teach me this—with so much love.'

Tears pricked her eyes at his sweetness, her own arousal building, pussy lips swelling and slick. 'And she touches you back,' Sana murmured, taking his hand and placing it on her breast. He hesitated, then cupped the soft mound through her dress, thumb brushing her hardening nipple. She arched into his touch, guiding him to squeeze, to roll the peak until she whimpered softly. 'Yes, like that. It shows her you adore her body.'

Haru's other hand joined, both kneading her breasts now, pushing the dress straps down to expose them—full and perky, nipples dark pink and erect. He leaned in, kissing her neck as he fondled, murmuring, 'Your skin is so soft, Mom. You're like a dream—kind, beautiful, everything perfect.' His words wrapped around her heart, making the moment feel sacred, not sinful.

The air grew thick with their shared breaths. Sana's hand pumped his cock steadily, slick with his precum, while his fingers pinched and tugged her nipples, sending jolts straight to her core. 'Haru… to really connect, you make love to her. Show her your heart through your body.' She stood, slipping off her dress, revealing her naked form—smooth skin, trimmed bush above her dripping pussy, ass round and inviting. Haru stared in awe, shedding his clothes quickly, his cock standing proud.

She pushed him gently onto the couch, but before straddling him, she paused, her eyes meeting his with tender invitation. 'Let me show you how to worship her first, my love. Kiss her body, make her feel adored.' Haru nodded, his gaze full of wonder, and pulled her down beside him. He shifted, positioning her to lean back against the cushions, her legs parting slightly as he hovered over her chest. Leaning down, he captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking firmly, his tongue flicking the hard bud while his hand massaged the other breast. Sana gasped, her fingers threading through his hair, arching her back to press closer. 'Oh, Haru… yes, just like that. It makes her melt for you.'

He switched sides, latching onto the other nipple, sucking harder now, teeth grazing lightly as he drew it deep into his warm mouth. Wet pops echoed as he released and latched again, his free hand trailing down her stomach to cup her mound, fingers dipping into her soaked folds. 'You taste so sweet, Mom,' he murmured against her skin, voice laced with awe. 'Your body is perfect—curvy and warm, like it's meant to be loved this way. I could do this forever, showing you how much you mean to me.' His words sent shivers through her, her pussy aching for more as he suckled eagerly, alternating between breasts, leaving them shiny with his saliva, nipples swollen and throbbing.

Sana's breath came in pants, her hand guiding his lower, but he lingered, lavishing attention on her chest until she trembled. Finally, she pulled him up for another kiss, tasting herself on his lips. 'Now, come inside me, sweetheart. Let her feel all of you.' She straddled his lap, her wet folds gliding along his length, coating him in her juices. Positioning the thick head at her entrance, she sank down slowly, her pussy stretching around his girth, walls hugging every vein as she took him inch by inch. They both groaned, the fullness overwhelming after her long drought—his cock buried to the hilt, balls pressed against her ass.

'Oh, Mom… you feel incredible. So tight and welcoming, like home,' Haru breathed, hands gripping her hips as she began to rock. Sana ground down first, circling her hips to rub her clit against his pubic bone, then lifted and dropped, her breasts jiggling with each bounce. He thrust up to meet her, cock plunging deep, the tip nudging her cervix with every upward stroke. The couch creaked under them, skin slapping rhythmically as sweat beaded on their bodies.

Haru's hands roamed, one sliding up to squeeze her breast again, thumb flicking the nipple he'd just sucked, while the other cupped her ass, fingers digging in to pull her harder onto him. 'I love you more than words, Mom. Your pussy grips me so perfectly—it's like we're one. You're my guiding light, so gentle and strong.' His praises flowed as he sat up slightly, mouth finding her neck, then her collarbone, before latching back onto a nipple mid-thrust. He sucked voraciously now, even as she rode him, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh while his cock pistoned inside her slick heat.

Sana moaned loudly, the dual sensations pushing her toward the edge—his mouth pulling at her breast, tongue swirling the areola, and his shaft dragging along her inner walls, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind her eyes. She clenched around him, riding faster, her juices dripping down his balls. 'Haru… my precious boy, you're doing so well. Fill me with your love.'

His balls tightened, cock swelling inside her as her orgasm crashed over her—pussy spasming wildly, milking him in rhythmic pulses, her cries muffled against his shoulder. 'Cum inside me, darling,' she urged, and he obeyed, hips bucking as ropes of hot cum erupted from his tip, painting her depths, overflowing to trickle down his shaft. They shuddered together, locked in ecstasy, his mouth still gently suckling her breast as waves subsided.

In the afterglow, Sana rested her head on his chest, his arms around her, cock softening inside her. 'That was beautiful, Haru. You'll be wonderful with Ji-eun—or anyone lucky enough to have you.' But deep down, she knew this bond had deepened in ways words couldn't capture, a pure, romantic secret between mother and son.

Author's Note: Trying something new with longer word counts! I'm pacing myself to make sure I don't hit a wall. Hope you've enjoyed the smut <3

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[kpoplustzone]

Today's Kofi Updates: {2 stories}

OLD NEIGHBOR - SANA

OC X SANA {20K WORDS}

Sana decides to relax with her Bf in a country house and is harassed and finally seduced by the old man living near her house, His big dick making her go bonkers over it.

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*************

F LIKE A QUEEN—IU

OC X IU {18K WORDS} {Part 11}

IU looked at her staff members circling her and could only sigh, as the figure she was looking for was not among the crew. The old man Kim had been away from his hometown for 10 days, and she was pretty sure her mood had been down since that day. She used to wake up in his embrace, usually with his thick, large cock inside her pussy, and now every morning she felt dull and listless, and the other thing was she was horny as hell; she craved his thick cock and cum. She wanted to choke on his cock as he fucked her stunning face.

There were many young men near her and male celebrities who hit on her, and she didn't think it was wrong. She was IU, THE QUEEN OF KOREA. It would be unusual if nobody hit on her. She was stunning, sexy, and rich. But seeing them, nothing woke in her; she didn't crave their bodies. 

She took out his phone, and seeing the unread messages, she could only sigh. It would be unbelievable if anyone said that the IU was looking at the phone and sighing because her 60-year-old driver was not returning her messages. She looked around, and seeing that nobody was around her, she opened the images in the gallery, and finally seeing that cock in her gallery, she found there were different images on her phone, some taken while the old man was sleeping and others while he was fucking her. There were videos where she was riding him, and he took the video of her cumming on his cock, all sweaty and sexy.

There were photos with her million-dollar face covered in his thick white cum as she smiled at the camera. She bit her lips as she watched the videos of her and the old man. She could feel her panties drenched in her juices that were pouring out. She rubbed her fair, sexy thighs together as she slightly moaned, frustrated. Yes, IU was sexually frustrated, but to scratch this itch, she needed only that one cock, and he was absent from her side. She was wearing a short blue skirt showing off her sexy bare thighs and a tight shirt, which surely gave a view of how perky and round her boobs were, and she was pretty sure that her nipples were hard as rock under her shirt; she was not used to wearing a bra and only used pasties, and the small blazer covered her pokies that were showing off proudly.

She had an interview to get through, and she had to suppress her horny body so that she could concentrate on her work. ********

She walked into her office in the company EDAM, where she works on her new songs and scripts, as she sighed and opened the door. As soon as she opened the door, she gasped as a hand grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, both hands over her head, as she looked at the old, aging face in front of her, the face she had seen so many times when she woke up from sleep and while riding his big cock or as she turned around to look back at the person pounding her from behind. There he was, looking at her with that smirk on her face as his hands were on her jaw, tracing her perfect skin. 

She stared up at him, heart hammering against her ribs, the familiar scent of his cheap cologne mixed with faint sweat and that unmistakable male musk hitting her like a drug. Old man Kim—sixty, wrinkled, graying hair thinning at the temples, rough hands that had mapped every inch of her body for months—stood there in her private office as if he owned it as he owned her.

The door clicked shut behind them with a soft finality. No one else was around—just the two of them.

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[kpoplustzone]

Old Nghbr—SANA PT 2

OC X SANA {15K WORDS}

It had been almost a week and a half since Sana and Park had their nasty fuck session in her car.

As naughty and carnal as their mating session was, Sana was relieved that she had her period soon after, and she didn't need to take a pill. Pills always made her feel like crap. She was certain that the old man's virile seed would surely have knocked her up in any other situation. 

As fun as it was role-playing about trying to get bred, she still wasn't entirely sure if she wanted a kid yet, especially through an affair. Jun would be livid if he were to ever find out. And playing it off as his? Well, maybe it's not the most moral thing to do. But the risk of making a baby under such debauched circumstances was certainly a thrill for her.

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Both CH 1 and CH 2—Link

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[zaelkpopsmt]

My Obsession with Sana’s Tits

• 2k words • +18 • Smut • Obsession • Pov Lector pd: I'm learning to use this..

You had been saving for almost an entire year to attend that TWICE fan meeting in Seoul. You worked during the day at a small café in the city center, serving coffee and cleaning tables until your feet hurt, and at night you did delivery on your bicycle to earn a little more. You sold your old bike, gave up going out with friends for months, and even asked your older brother for a small loan.

The VIP ticket cost you 520,000 won — almost everything you had saved with sweat and sacrifice. Every time you looked at the printed receipt you kept in your wallet, you reminded yourself why you were doing it: for Sana.

She wasn’t just an idol to you. She was the obsession that filled your lonely nights in the tiny apartment you shared with a noisy roommate. Every night, after showering, you would lie on your bed with your phone in hand and open the secret folder full of Sana fancams.

Those videos where the camera got too close to her chest during concerts, where her white blouse stuck to her sweat and her breasts — perfect, round, always beautifully shaped and glistening under the stage lights — bounced with every step of the choreography. You would masturbate furiously, replaying the same clip over and over: Sana leaning toward the audience, her deep cleavage showing the soft and heavy curve of her breasts.

You would cum shouting her name in silence, imagining those breasts were in your face, that you could squeeze them, suck them, and fuck them between them. Sometimes you would cum two or three times in a row, promising yourself that one day all the effort would be worth it.

The Day Finally Came

And now that day had arrived. The fan meeting was full of bright lights, banners, and the deafening screams of hundreds of fans. TWICE came out on stage and you only had eyes for Sana. She was wearing the outfit that drove you crazy: a tight white blouse with a deep V-neckline that showed the upper half of her perfect breasts. Every time she moved, her tits swayed slightly, hypnotizing you.

When it was your turn in the VIP hi-touch line, your heart was beating so hard you thought you might faint. Sana smiled at you with that sweet and dangerous smile. “Hi, what’s your name?” she asked while signing your album.

You stuttered your name. She held your hand a second longer than normal. At that exact moment, your phone vibrated. Without thinking, you took it out to silence it… and the screen lit up with your wallpaper: that exact fancam of Sana’s deep, shiny cleavage.

Sana saw it. Her eyes widened slightly, but instead of disgust, a mischievous smile appeared on her lips. She leaned in and whispered softly:

“Interesting wallpaper choice…”

The Private Room

After the event ended, a staff member approached you: “Sana wants to see you for a moment in the private area. Just you.”

They led you to a dimly lit backstage room. Sana was waiting there, still wearing the same revealing blouse. She locked the door and turned to you, the silence thick with tension.

“So… that wallpaper,” she said playfully, stepping closer until her breasts almost brushed against your chest. “How many times have you cum looking at my tits in that fancam?”

You confessed everything — how you had sacrificed almost everything just to see her, how you masturbated to her every night, how you dreamed of squeezing, sucking, and fucking her perfect breasts.

Sana’s eyes sparkled with lust. “What a honest little pervert… I like that.”

She took your hands and placed them directly on her breasts over the fabric. “Squeeze them. Like in your fantasies.”

From that moment on, everything you had imagined became real.

She unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing a delicate white lace bra. When she finally took it off, her round, heavy breasts spilled free — perfect pink nipples already hard. You squeezed them, sucked them, and buried your face between them while she moaned softly.

Sana knelt down, pulled out your throbbing cock, and gave you the sloppiest, warmest blowjob while her tits swayed heavily with every movement of her head. Then she straddled you on the couch, riding you slowly at first, letting you watch her breasts bounce hypnotically right in front of your face.

She rode you in multiple positions — cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, missionary — always making sure you could see and touch her tits. Finally, she gave you a long, perfect titjob, squeezing her soft breasts around your cock until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

When you were about to cum, she whispered in your ear:

“Cum inside me… Fill me completely. I want to feel how much you’ve been waiting for this.”

You exploded deep inside her with a groan, filling her as she trembled through her own orgasm, her sweaty breasts pressed against your chest.

Afterwards, still inside her, Sana caressed your hair and smiled softly.

“Was it worth all that money and all those lonely nights?” she whispered. “This is our little secret… but if you come to the next fan meeting… maybe I’ll let you use my tits again.”

— End —

[jaewonthewriter]

Wild Wife

by Jaewon

(Wordcount: 1.1K+)

Summary:

A quiet evening at home turns passionate when Momo, the loving and playful wife, decides to surprise her husband with a wilder side. What follows is an intimate, affectionate night filled with teasing, pleasure, and the deep trust they share as a married couple.

The apartment was peaceful after dinner. I had just finished washing the dishes when I felt arms wrap around me from behind. Momo rested her chin on my shoulder, her body warm against my back. She was still wearing the simple oversized t-shirt and shorts she’d changed into after work, but there was something different in the way she held me tonight.

“Missed you today,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to my neck. “You’ve been such a good husband lately. I think you deserve a reward.”

I turned around in her arms and smiled down at her. Even after years of marriage, Momo still made my heart skip. “What kind of reward are we talking about?”

She bit her lip, eyes sparkling with that playful, naughty glint I knew so well. “The kind where your wild wife takes care of you completely.”

She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. The lights were dimmed low, and she had already set out a couple of candles that filled the room with a soft vanilla scent. Momo pushed me gently onto the bed and climbed on top, straddling my waist as she kissed me deeply. Her kisses were hungry tonight, full of love but also clear desire.

“I want to try something new tonight,” she whispered against my lips. “If you’re okay with it.”

“Anything with you,” I replied, hands sliding up her thighs.

She smiled and started undressing me slowly, kissing every inch of skin she revealed. Once I was naked, she took her own clothes off, revealing her beautiful body. Her full breasts, toned waist, and that perfect ass that always drove me crazy.

Momo wrapped her soft hand around my cock, stroking me slowly at first. “Already so hard for me. My husband is so eager.”

She leaned down and gave me a long, loving blowjob. Her mouth was warm and wet, tongue swirling around the head before she took me deeper. She hummed happily, the vibration sending pleasure up my spine. One hand stroked the base while the other gently played with my balls.

“You taste so good,” she said when she pulled off for air, continuing with her hand. “I could do this all night.”

After a while she moved up, pressing her breasts together around my shaft for a titjob. The soft, warm pressure felt incredible as she moved them up and down, occasionally licking the tip when it poked through.

“Like that?” she asked, looking up at me with loving eyes. “Your cock looks so nice between my tits.”

I groaned in response, thrusting gently between them. Momo kept going until I was throbbing, then shifted higher so I could return the favor. I laid her on her back and spread her legs, burying my face between her thighs. I licked and sucked on her pussy eagerly, focusing on her clit while sliding two fingers inside her.

Momo’s moans filled the room, sweet and unrestrained. “Yes… just like that, baby. Your tongue feels amazing on my pussy.”

I ate her out thoroughly, bringing her to the edge and then over it. She came with a shudder, thighs squeezing around my head as she cried out my name. I kept licking her gently through the aftershocks until she pulled me up for a deep kiss.

“I want you in my ass tonight,” she whispered, cheeks flushed. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Want to feel my husband deep inside me there.”

The dirty talk from my usually sweet wife made me even harder. We prepared carefully, using plenty of lube and going slow. Momo got on all fours, looking back at me with trust and excitement in her eyes.

“Be gentle at first,” she said softly. “But then I want you to fuck me properly.”

I rubbed my cock against her tight entrance, pushing in slowly. The feeling was incredibly tight and hot. Momo let out a long moan, gripping the sheets.

“Fuck… you’re so big,” she breathed. “Fill my ass, baby.”

I went inch by inch until I was fully inside her. We stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust. Then I started moving, slow thrusts at first that gradually became deeper and firmer. Momo pushed back against me, meeting my movements.

“Harder,” she moaned. “I can take it. Fuck your wild wife’s ass.”

I gripped her hips and gave her what she wanted, thrusting deeper while reaching around to rub her clit. The sounds of our bodies meeting mixed with her sweet, filthy words.

“You feel so good back there,” I groaned. “So tight for me.”

Momo’s moans grew louder as pleasure built for both of us. We changed positions—she rode me in reverse cowgirl, bouncing on my cock with her ass while I watched the incredible view. Then back to doggy, then missionary with her legs over my shoulders so I could see her face as I fucked her ass.

“I’m gonna cum again,” she gasped, fingers rubbing her own clit fast. “Cum inside my ass when you’re ready, okay? Fill me up.”

Her second orgasm hit hard, her whole body trembling as her ass clenched around me. That pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came, pumping thick ropes of cum inside her ass. The pleasure was intense, leaving both of us breathless.

We stayed connected for a while, kissing softly as we came down. I pulled out carefully and cleaned us both up with a warm towel, then pulled her into my arms under the covers.

“You were amazing,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “My wild and sweet wife.”

Momo nuzzled into my chest, tracing patterns on my skin. “I love being able to share everything with you. Even the naughty parts. It makes me feel so close to you.”

We talked quietly afterward, laughing about how bold she had been and making plans for more lazy mornings and passionate nights. She fell asleep first, curled up against me with a content smile on her face.

Lying there holding my wife, I felt incredibly lucky. Momo brought so much love, laughter, and excitement into our marriage. Whether she was being my gentle partner during the day or my wild wife at night, every moment with her felt perfect.

As sleep started to pull me under, I kissed the top of her head one more time. “Love you forever.”

Even in her sleep, she snuggled closer, like she heard me. That was us—best friends, lovers, and partners who could be sweet and filthy together without ever losing the deep affection that held us close.

The End.

[unholybacon355]

Twice BBC Masterlist

Masterlist

This is in fact not a series but an anthology since the only thing connecting the stories is that they are all about Twice members x BBC. Other than that, there is no connection between stories.

Other thing to mention is that I'm not writing all the members, at least that's my plan. The members included will only be: Nayeon, Momo, Sana, Jihyo, and Mina.

Of course, it goes without saying that this isn't about Twice members working on that Broadcasting Corporation. So this is straight porn, with more or less story depending on the case.

CHAPERS:

PUSH & PULL - Jihyo

Money In My Pocket - Momo

Misty - Mina

[ninitarot]

https://www.tumblr.com/ninitarot/797891367663796224/hii-welcome-to-tumblr-can-you-do-a-reading?source=share

Can you do this one for Twice's Momo pls? Thanks 🩷🩷

Heyy! Ofc honey!

Spicy Reading Twice’s Momo🌶️

I would like to remember that this reading was my interpretation about the cards I pulled and the energy I was able to catch from this artist. This is only for entertainment purposes. Do not leave hateful comments, sex is not a shameful topic and tarot is not only for tips and poetical talk. If you don’t like this kind of content, scroll.

Main deck: the moon, the ring, the books

This is funny because its kinda of similar to the Sana’s reading lol. Let’s get into it!

What is it like?: Just like Sana, Momo is a romantic girl, who is going for the traditional stuff during the deed. She will be really soft and sweet. With the ring card I can say that she is also looking for a partner in life, and no longer dating without any long term relationship in mind. So naturally it will be important to her to be doing it with someone she loves or is interested on making it oficial. Alongside with the books, she can be open to try new things, and that she probably has some skills already mastered! But to get her to do anything out of the unusual, she would most likely need to seat down first and learn more about what is it that you would like to try.

Middle of the deck: the cross

Okay so I didn’t even needed to question beforehand, but she’s already telling me that she likes them big too. And when I say big, i mean BIG! The thing is that she probably likes the pain of it when its inside😀. (interesting mis. Momo🤭)

Top(1) and bottom(2) of the deck: 1- the egret and 2-the clouds

Oh so she likes when the person likes to innovates! With the egret card i can see her liking to do knew things! She doesn’t like boring partners, you need to keep out girl entertained! It can again mean that she likes it long… not necessarily thick. It also means that she likes gentle and sensible people. And as in for the clouds, she herself has some ideas she would like to try, but sometimes feel too shy to ask for. It can again be a sign of a little bush🥰

Second main deck:the stars, the sickle, the house

What does she like in Personality wise:

On the main deck, I just got personality manners, which may indicate that our girl doesn’t have a type.

The stars here will be representing that she likes bright people! Authentic, magnetic and inspiring. She not just wants to want you for your looks, its for what you transmit to her, your vibe. As in for the sickle, she most likely love hardworking people! The type to be intense and decisive. When she’s with you, she wants you to take the lead. Example: “let’s go out tonight. im picking you up by 8:00. Be ready” type of shit. Determined and direct is key to get her attention. But she also values a lot security, stability and feeling comfortable, protected. That’s what the house card will be telling me. Also that she wants a well family oriented person.

Second middle deck: the birds

This will fit for personality too, but our girl likes them communicative if yk what I mean🤫. Leading or expressing how much you feel pleasured will definitely turn her on! And on personality manners, she just basically thinks that communication is key (period girl😝.) She needs to have chemistry with you! Need to feel your charisma. She probably has a thing for funny guys too (you’re not alone sis🥲.)

Second top(1) and bottom(2) of the deck: 1-the whip and 2- the tower

So… she really has a little something a but of pain. I think the whip card speaks for itself guys…And the tower… big, again.

But the whip will also be talking about being vibrant and having lots of stamina. It will represent a person who can keep her mind and body stimulated 😝

The tower can also represent that she likes introverted and tall people! And the type of person to give off a but of a mysterious vibe. Very composed and serious at first sight.

(after having a little thought over night, this are the possible signs that came to my mind: Aquarius, Gemini and Capricorn.)

[ninitarot]

Hii, welcome to Tumblr 👋

Can you do a reading about how Twice's Sana is in bed? Like what does she like and the type of people that turns her on? Thank you <3

hello! thank youu! ofc I can honey☺️

Spicy Reading Twice Sana🌶️

I would like to remember that this reading was my interpretation about the cards I pulled and the energy I was able to catch from this artist. This is only for entertainment purposes. Do not leave hateful comments, sex is not a shameful topic and tarot is not only for tips and poetical talk. If you don’t like this kind of content, scroll.

Main deck: the ring, the egret, the moon

Ooownn she is for sure a hopeless romantic girl.

What is it like: Sana is the type of girl who’s now looking for a partner in life! So she’s looking someone to be with her more like a husband. The ring here shows that to get her in the mood, she needs to be in love with you or to be willing to invest on something more long term like.

With the egret card, I see that she’s pretty open minded 🫣. But don’t think that she will be doing anything right there in the spot! She needs to be introduced to whatever is your idea with calm and patience.

The moon shows me that she’s really into the whole romance scene and she definitely is a romantic partner. She likes and acts accordingly to whats classical.

The middle of the deck: the clover

I was not expecting this, but Sana is a person who most likely pretty interested on the subject (later on, this will appear again lol)… She probably is the type of person who just can’t get enough.

Top of the deck(1) and bottom(2): 1-the books and 2-the clouds

With the books here…Yup she definitely is open minded and knows a couple stuff LOL! But this also shows that she has some desires that she keeps them to herself. Maybe she feels ashamed or a little scared to ask to try them out. Now with the clouds, this can only further confirm what’ve just said, but can also tell me that she might keep a little bush down there (and im a supporter of her decision😌.)

Second main deck: the tree, the lilys, the fish

What does she like physically and on personality wise: With the tree card, it only shows that our girl is not hard to comprehend! She just simply like them taller and stronger then her (same girl)! During the deed, it means that she likes when the guy is big (for all of the directions 🫣.) But this card also represents that she’s into mature and grounded people. She likes stability and people who are willing to grow roots with her.

With the lilys card, I see that she also likes pretty people who smell good too! It also indicates that she likes the type of person who’s simply harmonic. It could be the vibe, the looks, the style,the body proportions or face… something balanced. (like libra signed people, or people who have this sign on a important planet in their chart.)

And with the fish, she also likes when the person is easy going. But when it goes about during the deed, it can represent that she likes intensity. Probably some intense flow or connection. It really turns her on!

Second middle of the deck: the house

So again, this woman needs A MAN! A REAL MAN!! She wants a husband guys! She wants someone family oriented and that she feels safe and comfortable around! That’s what Sana needs and deserves😌.

Top of the deck(1) and bottom(2): 1-the sun and 2-the birds

So with the sun, she doesn’t just like pretty, warm and good vibes people, she also likes someone who’s good…yk😝. This girl likes to be with someone not just big, but someone who knows what they’re doing! And with the birds card, she likes vocal people, she likes to be guided and praised! She most probably likes to hear some whimpers too. And ofc that for her, communication is key! So she likes people who speak their minds and communicates with her about anything and everything.

(Possible signs: Libra, Taurus and Leo.)

[momoxluv]

Angel line x Scissor sister activities ★

Summary: What's their favorite way to make you cum?

Tags: Fingering, Strap on, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Vibrater, Squirting, Boob sucking, Overstimulation, Mommy kink, Munch Momo propaganda, inexperienced Tzuyu propaganda

A/N: HAPPY PRIDEEEEE ❕Consider this my gift ♡

Nayeon ⋆˚࿔

Fingering.

She loves to watch you take her fingers no problem, They're long enough to touch that spot that makes you cry and arch for her. Having your essence on her fingers turns her on a lot, The sight of you shaking and begging just from her fingers alone makes her body hot. Her tounge lacing with yours as she works you open like no tomorrow. She wants to see how many times you can squirt from her hands, swallowing your whines and moans

"You can give me one more can't you, baby?"

You can't. but you always try, your clit is rubbed raw and your legs beg for mercy but she doesn't stop. Wanting more liquids to suck off her fingers before kissing you and making you taste youself.

"So sweet. Mmm I think I need another taste~"

Momo ⋆˚࿔

Munching.

Her safe place is between her thighs. loving the way you look down at her with that pleading expression, begging her for lick you harder, she'll make you work for it just a little, giving you petty kitty licks just to hear you beg before giving you what you want. Her tounge is skilled it applies the perfect amount of pressure on your clit that makes you see stars, You hands tangle in her soft brown hair, guiding her wherever you want. You fondle your breast as her tounge enters you.

Grinding against her face as she moans into your flaps, you moan right back. Feel that tight coil spring inside your stomach. Momo is addicted to catching your squirt in her mouth, she always wants you to tell her when your close so she can catch it.

"I-Im close! fuck– yes! right theree"

She's rub your clit while fucking you with her tounge for a second more then pulling back and beckoning her mouth open to catch your sweet juices on her tongue.

Jihyo ⋆˚࿔

Strap.

She will fuck you into the mattress anytime you ask. She loves the power of control, she likes being in control of your pleasure, Slamming her hips harder into you when you beg for it deeper, grabbing your curvy hips and pulling you back into her. The view of your ass bouncing back against her is better than any achievement in the world. She doesn't stick to one position, she will switch a lot randomly to keep you on your toes.

One minute you're face down ass up, the next your legs are held open as she thrust into you, of course you can't help but take her nipples in your mouth, needing something to suck on, ground you to the moment as she fucks you to oblivion.

"My pretty girl can take it can't she?"

She pants out, groaning in approval as you mark up for breast, cupping your boobs in return, playfully twisting your nipples

"Yes mommy, I can take it"

"That's my girl~"

Tzuyu ⋆˚࿔

scissoring/toys

She's not as experienced when it come to sex with women but she loves to use toys on you, gauging what you like, what makes you whine and shiver. Any kind is vibrator is her usual pick, Addicted to your moans and how your body reacts to pleasure, pressing the buzzing toy to your clit while she stuffs two fingers inside you.

Before you can cum she's retracts, kissing you hungrily while you switch positions, playing with you has got her so wet and desperate for your clit on hers. She prefers you ontop of course so she can admire you. When your wetness makes contact with hers she's loses it, holding her legs as wide as she can while you grind down against her.

"Fuck you're so pretty baby, your pussy feels so good"

She holds your hips, helping and urging you back and forth, her head lollis back as she moans for you to fuck her harder, it's never enough for her. You moan in each others mouths as you cum together, your juices mixing just the way she likes. Of course to repay her by cleaning up the mess you've both made between her legs.

[dailysabinasmuts]

Momo moans outrageously while she rides your cock, taking every girthy inch of it with palpable ease. Her experienced folds skillfully massaging your length while she drags it up and down your shaft. Momo smirks when you beg for her to slow down, and just keeps bouncing on it 😵

[smutlovingwriter]

THE CANDY PEACH ASS

Momo x Male Reader

TAGS: ANAL, EXHIBITION, CUNNINGLING, TEASING, RIMJOB, SENSUAL, ROUGH SEX, SWEAT KINK, BLOWJOB

SYNOPSIS : The girls got off stage, walking back to the dressing room. As they pass by some thing had you (a staff member) picking up your nose, and sniffing the air enjoying the scent. Momo realize this and knew exactly what you wanted. She pealed away from the group and walked in the opposite direction, passing you again, making you turned your head as you were lead by your nose.

3.1K WORDS

(P.S. This was going to be part 2 of one that I already did but got lost with my previous account)

She lead me down the hall, around the corner, into a dead end. That's were she pulled me into her as she was leaning on the wall. Momo had her mouth right next to my ear, she whispered in it with long breaths in between her words, a form of teasing me .

MOMO : "I know what you're looking for! It's right here! You pervert!!! Following the scent of my sweat!!! I can't blame you though, you should be!!! After all I was dancing a little harder hoping to sweat a lot!!! Because I was thinking how I want this dick to be dripping with all my different fluids. You see!?!"

With her mouth next to my ear, she forced my face into her neck; That was dripping with sweat that came from her hair, as she guided my hand down the front of her pants and through her waist band. Which had my finger tips reach, what felt like a, well maintained thick, bush that was made up from wet pubes. As I tugged on it a little bit to tease her back, she let go of a small moan the came with a mixture of pleasure & pain while she kept whispering in my ear.

MOMO : Oh!! I see you found my little secret!! Do you like it? Because it's hard for us Japanese girls to grow hair! So this took me a while!!! To grow for just this occasion, just for you since the last time we met!!! I wanted you to get a real strong sense of my scent, so you can remember me by!! I don't know when is the next time I'm going to see you!!"

As I cause her to moan in my ear again by flicking her clit; To show her my appreciation for her dedication. In response, Momo grabbed my wrist, and guided it around her hip, to the top of her sweaty ass crack. As she teased me again, by begging right in my ear, with her deep heavy tone and adding exaggerated breathing.

MOMO : "Go ahead get your handful of this sweaty ass!!! Run your fingertips down my sweaty ass crack!! I just know you want to taste it!!! Taste what was I shaking on stage in front of every one like the little slut I am"

And she was right, when I saw her coming off the stage with the rest of the girls, her skin was shining. It made me wonder how she would taste in the current state she was in; With that simple thought, my dick started to form an outline, that had it popping out of my jeans and of course of Momo noticed. So as I took her up on her offer, and ran my finger tips down her ass, feeling every inch of her asshole and every detail of the wrinkles that made up the tight ring her rim had; Momo undid my pants, having my dick pop out as she turned her hand upside and cuffed my dick in her palm; While her fingertips were teasing my balls with how she caress them by slighting touching them. As yet again, she leans into my ear and heavily low-pitch moan into my ear, from the slight teasing I did to her asshole.

MOMO : "I see you really like my sweaty ass!! I can feel how this big dick of yours is throbbing, getting super hard!! I bet you just want to stuff this big thing inside my slutty holes don't you? Just the thought of my pussy lips wrapping around this big dick of yours, as you thrust it in and out, is making me so excited. I might just want this to put me in my place!! That's if you're up to the task, big boy? Can you? Are you man enough to break me with this?"

As she speaking into my ear with seductive whisper tone, while she stroked my cock with an upside down grip; Causing her finger tips to slightly pick up my balls, as they traced up the shaft of my dick, and ending on the tip. Which is were Momo coated her fingers with my precum, before she step back and cleaned her precum coated finger with her mouth. While she was looking at me with the most innocent, playful, and a sense of mischievous look on her face. Remembering how slutty she was moving for thousands of people, and seeing how she's now, daring me, belittling me. It just send me over the edge with jealousy & frustration, so took my hand off of her ass and with the other I pined her against the wall. This only had Momo with a smirk on her face looking up at me, as if she was waiting for more.

ME : "You shook your ass so much, that this is how much you sweated! Having my finger covered in your ass swear!!! Look at you such a slut!!! I bet you really wanna get caught live off of my dick!!"

As I shoved my sweat covered fingers in her mouth, and she happily took them in. Wrapping her tongue around them as she moved her mouth up & down, while keeping eye contact with me as she pulled back with a pop sound when her lips detached from my fingers, and left them dripping wet now from her saliva. Without missing a beat, Momo pulled me in.

MOMO : "My sweat taste so good!!! Anyways, you shouldn't get so angry and frustrated over my little ol' slutty holes, it isn't good for the health!!! Why think about that and how I'm going to continue doing that? Unless we get caught and, to survive, I become your personal JAV!"

Just her saying that and putting it in my head, my dick got a little harder.

MOMO : "Wow!! You would love that would you? I could tell!! But right you have those slutty holes in front of you! So about use the mouth for something good, and get yourself a mouthful of these slutty sweaty pussy and ass!!"

As she guided my hand down to her pussy, tracing her body along the way. Slightly moaning every tip my finger tips touch a carves on her tone Coca-Cola bottle shape body. So when my hand finally reached her pussy, I hooked my fingers inside of it, and this time I pulled her off of the wall, into my body.

ME : "Fine! You keep that same attitude! Because I love to see it as it falls apart along with your pride! As my dick makes you my little personal slut! You should have been careful of what you wished!"

I pushed Momo back on the wall, as I honed in on her neck & shoulder. Kissing it, nibbling on it, and throwing in a few licks; Tasting her sweat covered skin, while her groans were filling up my ears. I switched my attention to her chest, that had sweat drops coming down her cleavage, which lead my mouth to Momo's tits; Were I used the tip of my tongue to slightly trace around her areola, while keeping my eyes on her face; Seeing how she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, as I moved my lips around her nipples, sucking on them; Ending with some nibbling to keep her on her toes. Seeing Momo's closed eyes flinch to the hints of pain, as they become open from how surprise she was; When I moved my tongue underneath her tits, and lick her sweat clean off from side to side.

MOMO : "Wow! you really are perverted!! Teaching a slut like me a new sensation!(moans)

With a smirk on my face, I kept eye contact as I guided my mouth down Momo's tone stomach, along the way, I used my tongue to scoop out the sweat in her belly button. As my licking & kissing sounds along with her muffled moans filled the hallway. I continued without a care in the world about being caught, as my eyes were filled with the view of Momo's pussy; Taking the biggest sniff, getting to smell the subtle musk, citrusy, with a hint of strawberry scent that was made from Momo's wet pussy being mixed with her sweat. I was close enough to get a hint of her scent, and it came with my nose being filled up with her bush. As Momo looked down on me chuckling.

MOMO : "Are you really that desperate to break me? Desperate to own to pussy?? To have it for yourself???

Saying this with a sense of glee, while grinding her hips having her well maintained bush rub against my face.

MOMO : "I guess you really aren't the type to beat around the bush! How do you like the smell? Is it strong enough for you?"

As she was grinding her hips, I drop my mouth a little lower and opened it. Which made her pussy ended up in my mouth, as I seal it off with my lips; I had my tongue move up & down, flicking her clit : up, left, down, right; Followed by having it explore every inch of her pussy lips, spreading them open, hitting every spot of hers, as I finished sucking on her lips and on her clit; Before I pulled my head back, seeing her in a weak state, knees about to give out as she's biting on her finger to stop her moans.

ME : "What happen to the confident, manipulating, little slut that just wanted to get her pussy eaten in a hallway, without a care in the world?"

Momo removed her finger from her mouth with a gasp and tearful eyes to speak.

MOMO : "Is just that, I was about to moan loudly that'll definitely get us caught. And I realize I really like being an idol. Didn't want to ruin that!"

While flipped her entire body, by the grip I had on her waist, having her face pinned against the wall and ass sticking out. As Momo gasped in shocked from how easily I moved her when I'm carving her, and having her to myself is on the line. I gave her fat bubble butt a big slap as grasped it at the end, loud enough for it reverberate through the halls, as I licked my lips because of the view of Momo's tight puckering asshole that surprisingly tinted brown.

ME : "Nope!! Too late too care about that!!! Because I don't!!! And I know this is your weak spot!!! This little shit hole of yours, that's drench in sweat between each wrinkle!!! So prepare to became mine, what did you call it? Personal JAV! I guess today you're switching careers!!!" MOMO : "No wait!! If you do that now!!! If you spread open my asshole, I'm going to...."

I used my tongue to interrupt her, by using the tip of it to trace every wrinkle on her muscle ring; Sweeping up every drop of sweat that each one of them held with the tip of my tongue, as I move it towards the center and applied pressure to the entrance of Momo's pucker up brown tinted shit hole; With little to no pressure her rim open up and wrapped itself around my tongue. It had Momo standing on her tiptoes locking her knees, stretching her back upwards looking up as she held her orgasm. Seeing this, I reached around her hips and started to flick her clit, which made her cum right away since she was just hanging on before. I started to make my way up to her ear, while I did, I left a trail of kissed, licks, and some bites up her smooth back, as if to mark her.

ME : "It looks like your career has survived, but don't worry you still have a chance to ruin your career as an idol!"

As Momo looked at me with a facial expression that tells me, she doesn't even know were she's at; But it's full of needs & desires as she's trying to catch her breath. Which is when I grabbed her by the waist, and thrusted my hips forward in an upward direction, almost picking her up from her feet as she ended up partially sitting in my lap. While my dick ended up sliding into Momo's wet pussy, having her lips spread around my shaft, as I easily reached the deepest part of her pussy with one stroke. With my dick balls deep in her pussy, I took my hands and started to rub, pinch, and pull on her nipples. While I pulled out of her pussy, she looked over her shoulder and back at me, with a pleading facial expression. Since she didn't have the breath to speak, but her facial expression to a sad puppy eyes with a hint of lust with my words.

ME : "Nope!!! Looking at me like that won't work!! You going to have to moan!! Loudly enough to everybody back how much hairy slutty idol you are!!! Let them know that you'll no longer be an idol but my personal JAV!!!"

My words were followed by my hips thrusting my dick back deep into her pussy, which was accompanied by Momo's slight groan, that sounds like her breath was taken away as she was finally going to speak. With her trying to stop her moans from coming out, she had her arms fully extend, hands spread out on the wall, and her head down between her arms. While I was picking up the pace of my strokes with each one of them putting my dick in the deepest parts of her pussy, as I was still playing with her nipples. My thrusting had her body bouncing off of my cock, sending waves through her body which I could see them start from her ass and go up her back; Had her wet pussy lips creating wet sloppy sounds as they tighten & loosen up around my cock while it was going in & out. The sounds were filling up the hallway, bouncing off of the walls, but they were also accompanied, with what sounded like clapping, that came from Momo's sweaty thighs & ass bouncing off of my pelvis & thighs. Momo couldn't help it but also fill the hallway with slight moans that turn into groans from being held back. Which had a mixture of pleasure, that came from her pussy being pound, combine with small cries of pain, which came from her nipples being played with.

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ME : "You're still able to hold back your moans even though your pussy is taking a beating!! I'm not surprise though, a slut like you..."

I interrupted myself to spank her ass

ME : "Look how this USED ass jiggles!! Yeah I heard the stories!! I heard how your members had to gangbang you, how they had to fill this ass up with whatever did could find just to please your needs before going on stage!!! So don't think I have forgotten about this brown tinted shitty pucker hole, that you call your slutty asshole!!!"

As I spank her ass again, seeing it jiggle, but this time Momo took it as a sign to take a wide stand with her legs. Making it seem like the training, that her members gave her, kicked in. This position had her asshole provide no resistance when I thrusted my entire dick. As her muscle ring wrapped it self around my dick, welcoming every inch of it, causing her knees to give out a little making her hips cave towards the wall; Having Momo with her legs far apart, pin close to the wall, arms extend upward, hands against the wall, and her head down between her arms; As her ass gets filled with my dick every time it comes back down, from the impact of each of my strokes. While I kept one hand playing with her nipple, and the other playing with her clit. The hallway was getting filled with gaping sounds that came from her asshole being left emptied then filled; Combine with her sweaty ass bouncing off of my thighs, and her wet pussy being play with. Which broke Momo as she couldn't help but let her moans out, while she squirted all over the floor. Momo's body collapse and fell onto her knees, as if the tension from the orgasm that was building up, was the only thing holding her up.

ME : "Look at that, almost busted my ear drums with how loud those moans were!! Don't you feel better now?!? Now that your slutty self got satisfy by a real dick that can be all yours!!"

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Momo didn't answer instead, while on her knees, came to me with her face being at the same height as my dick. Which gotten soft from cumming in her ass and was covered with her ass juices, pussy fluids, and with the lingering cum. With out saying anything, Momo grab my hips for support as she guided my dick into her mouth, with only her lips. As she wrapped her tongue around my dick to clean it up, she moved her mouth along with her head up & down. Slurping it all the saliva that she leaving behind and spread it again. She would also tilt her head to the side while moving it, so I could see the outline of my dick popping out of her cheek. At this point, my sensitive so this clean up blow job didn't last long, since all the momentum that Momo build with her mouth movements, made me squirt my cum out down her throat. Which in the easiest, most calmest, seductive way possible Momo swallowed it, while she stood still looking up at me, with my dick filling up her mouth and exaggerating her gulps. With a smirk, she pulled her head back and got up; As she seductively traced my body with her finger tips.

MOMO : "Good boy you won!! Congrats, you broke me!!! I need this dick now!! But I'm warning you ahead of time, a slut like me craves a lot of dick, so get use to running on empty but don't worry keep your eyes and I guess your nose on me, because I'll give you motivation when I'm on stage and even when I'm off of it!!"

As she walks away butt naked with no fear, and I just stare at her ass moving up & down with every step. Thinking how I just filled that asshole with cum and made it gape.

MOMO : "Don't worry you'll be able to use that motivation anytime!! I'll make sure you get hired as my manager or security guard, I gotta take care of that dick now. That isn't yours anymore after all, it's mine now to do as I please with; And since you're able to fuck me here in the hallway, you must be able to fuck me in other places right!?! BYE FOR NOW SEE YOU ON THE PLANE, HOPE BY THEN YOU CAN CUM SOME MORE!!"

[sunnusi]

Would shove my face between her asscheeks and sniff so hard before putting my tongue in her asshole

[electro469]

Melon Obsession | Sana x Fanboy Smut

What starts as a casual scroll through Instagram comments spirals into something dangerously intoxicating when Sana discovers a fan whose every post is an obsessive, breathtaking tribute to one part of her body—captured in ways no one else has dared. The shock melts into a forbidden spark of excitement, turning her usual caution into a daring impulse she can’t ignore. One secret message later, the boundaries between idol fantasy and reality dissolve in a private, pulse-racing encounter that promises to reward devotion in the most intimate way imaginable.

The air in the Twice dorm was thick and syrupy with the lethargy of a rare, unscheduled afternoon. A late-autumn sun, weak and golden, slanted through the living room windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the still air. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound, a constant, droning counterpoint to the occasional soft tap of a phone screen or the rustle of snack packaging. On the large sofa, Momo was curled into a ball, dead to the world, her soft snores a gentle rhythm. Across the room, Nayeon and Jihyo were hunched over a shared iPad, their heads close together as they debated something with fierce, whispered intensity, probably an online shopping cart.

Sana lay sprawled on her stomach on the plush carpet, a floor cushion propped under her elbows. She was clad in a simple grey sweatshirt and a pair of black shorts, her long, dark hair fanned out around her head like a halo. She was aimlessly scrolling through her Instagram, a bottomless pit of curated perfection and chaotic fan comments. It was a familiar ritual, a way to pass the time, to touch base with the universe that adored her. Most of it was a blur: hearts, emojis, declarations of love in a dozen languages. It was pleasant, background noise.

Then, a comment snagged her attention, a single thread of silver in a haystack of cotton.

It wasn't the usual "Sana unnie is so pretty!" or "QUEEN!" It was different. It was on a recent candid photo, one their manager had posted from the lounge of their music show prep room. In the picture, she was leaning forward, laughing at something Dahyun had said, the neckline of her sweater dipping just so. The comment read:

There is a geometry to your grace, a perfect, sloping equation that culminates in a apex of pure beauty. The gentle swell is not just form, but a poem written in flesh, a verse that makes the heart stutter and the breath catch in the throat.

A warmth bloomed in Sana’s chest, a slow, creeping heat that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. It was… poetic. Intensely specific. And undeniably arousing. She felt a faint blush creep up her neck. Who wrote this? Her eyes darted to the username: @SanaMelonMaestro.

A giggle almost escaped her. Melon Maestro? It was so absurd, so delightfully weird. Curiosity piqued, she tapped on the profile. The profile picture was what made her breath hitch. It was a high-quality fan-taken photo from one of their concerts. It wasn’t her face, or a full-body shot. It was a close-up, a slightly low-angle capture of her in one of their more daring stage outfits, the black fabric straining, the spotlight glinting off the sweat on her skin, artfully highlighting her cleavage. It was a stunningly intimate, almost reverent shot.

Before she could second-guess the impulse, her thumb tapped the ‘Posts’ tab.

The screen filled with a grid of images, and Sana’s brain short-circuited. Every single post, a mosaic of thumbnails, was the same. Hundreds of them. All her. But only one part of her. Close-ups from music video shoots. Zoomed-in frames from concert VCRs. Paparazzi-style snapshots from airport arrivals where she’d worn a low-cut top. Fan-cams that didn’t follow her dancing, but stayed locked on her chest, tracking its every movement as she breathed and performed. The captions were just as verbose and worshipful as the one she’d first read, detailed analyses of outfits, lighting, and the way different fabrics draped across her form.

She scrolled down, and down, and down. The numbers at the top of the profile burned into her retinas: 729 Posts. 78.4k Followers.

A small, strangled yelp escaped her lips. She fumbled the phone, it almost slipping from her grasp before she clutched it to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her face felt like it was on fire.

“What was that?” Nayeon’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and curious. “You okay, Sana-yah?”

Sana scrambled to sit up, shoving her phone face down onto the carpet as if it were a venomous snake. “N-nothing!” she stammered, her voice an octave too high. “Just… just saw a scary Instagram reel. A zombie, or something.”

Jihyo looked over, a skeptical arch to her brow. “A zombie? You screamed like you saw a spider.”

“A very, very realistic zombie!” Sana insisted, waving a hand dismissively, her blush betraying her. She could feel their eyes on her, and she desperately wanted the floor to swallow her whole. “I’m fine, really. Just… jumpy.”

Momo stirred on the sofa, muttering something about cheese in her sleep before settling again. Nayeon and Jihyo exchanged a look but mercifully turned back to their iPad, losing interest. Sana let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and collapsed back onto the cushion, her mind racing.

729 posts. The number echoed in her head. All dedicated to her breasts. It was objectifying, invasive, and more than a little creepy. And yet… that first comment. The poetry. The sheer, unadulterated dedication. This wasn't just some horny teenager. This was a connoisseur. A Maestro. The absurdity of it made her want to laugh, but a darker, more thrilling thought was taking root.

That evening, after a quiet dinner and a half-hearted attempt at watching a movie together, Sana excused herself and retreated to the sanctity of her bedroom. She locked the door, the soft click a finality that made her pulse quicken. She sat on the edge of her bed, the soft lamplight casting a warm glow around her. She picked up her phone, her fingers trembling slightly.

She found her way back to @SanaMelonMaestro. This time, she didn’t just scroll. She dove in. She watched a fan-cam from their Tokyo Dome concert, the camera impossibly steady, its focus absolute as she performed a particularly vigorous dance routine. She read a caption praising the way a specific silk blouse from a photoshoot created a "shadowed valley of profound intrigue." She saw posts from their world tour, evidence that this person—this fan—had traveled from Seoul to Paris to New York, all for the sake of capturing these specific, fleeting moments.

The initial shock began to morph into something else. A strange, potent mix of flattery and power. JYP Entertainment’s security team would have a field day with this. A phone call, a report, and the account would likely be gone in a heartbeat. It was the logical, safe, correct thing to do.

But the thought felt… wrong. This was worship. Twisted, obsessive, and utterly singular, but worship nonetheless. He hadn't just noticed her; he had devoted himself to a part of her that she was sometimes self-conscious of, sometimes proud of, but always aware of. He had spent countless hours and who knew how much money to build this shrine. To simply delete it felt like… a waste. An insult to the sheer passion of the enterprise.

A wicked, thrilling idea began to unfurl in her mind, dangerous and intoxicating. Why should he get his reward only through a screen? Why should he be limited to pixels and captions? He had put in the work. He had curated the ultimate collection. Didn't he deserve to see the art up close? To experience it in the flesh?

A slow, sly smile spread across Sana’s face. Her fanmeets were controlled, chaotic blurs of a hundred faces and fleeting handshakes. This would be different. This would be a one-on-one. A private viewing. A secret, sacred ceremony.

She opened her verified Instagram account. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting a message that was both a test and an invitation.

@SanaMelonMaestro, she typed. I must say, I’m impressed with your… collection. You have a truly discerning eye. It seems you appreciate fine art. I’d be interested in offering you a private showing. A chance to see the masterpiece in person. Let me know if you’re interested.

She hit send before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding, a wild drumbeat of adrenaline and arousal. A minute passed. Then five. Just as she was starting to think it was a ridiculous, impulsive mistake, her phone buzzed.

A new message from @SanaMelonMaestro.

It was a torrent of text. disbelief. frantic questions. A desperate, pleading ‘YES. YES. OF COURSE. I AM INTERESTED MORE THAN ANYTHING.’

Sana’s smile widened. It was working. She was in control. For the next hour, they messaged back and forth. She, cool and commanding, laid out the terms. A discreet, high-end hotel. A neutral-sounding room number. A specific time. He was to tell no one. Come alone. No cameras. No phones. This was not a fanmeet to be documented. It was a memory to be earned.

He agreed to everything, his devotion pouring through the screen in a torrent of grateful, ecstatic capital letters. Sana finally put her phone down, a deep, satisfied sigh escaping her lips. The boring afternoon had vanished, replaced by the electric thrill of a conspiracy. She was no longer just an idol on a screen. She was the curator, and tomorrow, she was going to deliver her most devoted patron the ultimate reward. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, a promise of the exciting, dangerous indulgence to come.

* * *

The next afternoon felt surreal. Sana moved through her pre-meet ritual with a strange, detached calm, as if she were watching someone else. She told her manager she was meeting an old friend for a private coffee, a lie that slid off her tongue with practiced ease. Dressed in a chic, cream-colored trench coat over a simple, form-fitting black turtleneck dress and heeled boots, she looked like she was stepping off the cover of a fashion magazine, not en route to a clandestine encounter. The scent of her favorite Jo Malone perfume, a delicate blend of wood sage and sea salt, clung to her skin, a fragrant armor.

The hotel was one of those exclusive, modernist towers in Gangnam, known for its discretion and breathtaking views. She bypassed the main lobby, using a private side entrance as instructed, the sleek keycard feeling cool and heavy in her hand. The elevator ride to the 37th floor was silent, her reflection in the polished chrome doors a composed, beautiful stranger. A knot of anticipation tightened in her stomach, a thrilling mix of fear and arousal.

The suite was just as she’d imagined: understated luxury. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the sprawling city. The furniture was minimalist and expensive, the air conditioned to a perfect temperature. She shrugged off her trench coat, draping it over a plush armchair, and took a moment to steady herself. She was Sana of Twice. A global superstar. And in this room, for the next few hours, she was simply the object of one man’s singular, obsessive desire. The power was intoxicating.

At precisely 4:00 PM, a soft, hesitant knock echoed through the suite.

Her heart gave a lurch. Showtime.

She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress, and walked to the door. She didn't look through the peephole. She wanted the raw, unfiltered reveal. She turned the handle and pulled the door open.

He stood there, exactly as his online persona suggested: a man in his mid-twenties, with a slightly rumpled but earnest look. He was taller than she expected, with a lean, athletic build that hinted at regular gym sessions. He had kind eyes, currently wide with a mixture of shock and utter disbelief, and soft brown hair that was neatly styled. He clutched a leather jacket in his hands like a security blanket. He was, Sana noted with a private, satisfied smile, objectively handsome. This was going to be more fun than she’d anticipated.

“Alex?” she said, her voice a low, melodic purr.

He could only manage a shaky nod, his mouth slightly agape as he took her in. “S-sana…ssi…” he stammered, his voice cracking. “I… you’re real.”

Sana laughed, a light, musical sound that seemed to break his trance. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. “I am. Please, come in.”

He shuffled into the room, his movements awkward, his eyes scanning every detail before snapping back to her as if afraid she might vanish. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound sealing them in their private world.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered, moving toward the small, well-stocked bar. “Water? Or something stronger?”

“Water is fine, thank you,” he managed, his gaze fixed on her.

She poured two glasses from a crystal carafe, handing one to him. Their fingers brushed, and she felt a jolt from him, a visible tremor. He took a quick, nervous gulp.

She settled onto one of the velvet armchairs, crossing her legs slowly. The black dress rode up just a fraction, drawing his eyes. She let him look, enjoying the effect she had on him.

“So,” she began, swirling the water in her glass. “Alex. We have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded again, standing stiffly near the door. “Anything. I’ll answer anything.”

“Good. First, relax. I don’t bite,” she said, though the glint in her eye suggested otherwise. She gestured to the sofa opposite her. “Sit.”

He practically fell onto the sofa, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt. Sana leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. The position caused the neckline of her dress to shift, drawing his immediate, helpless attention. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Let’s start with the obvious,” she said softly. “Your… collection. It’s quite extensive. Devoted, even.”

A deep blush spread across his cheeks, but he met her eyes, a flicker of his online confidence showing through. “I know it must seem… extreme. But it’s not just a hobby. It’s… appreciation.”

“Appreciation,” she repeated, tasting the word. “That’s what I want to understand. Why me, Alex? Out of all the idols, all the women in the world… why are you so obsessed with my… with me?”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts for a dissertation. “It’s not just one thing. It’s everything. The way you move on stage, it’s not just dancing, it’s… storytelling. Your expressions, your aegyo, it’s all part of this incredible package. But then… there’s *that*. The way you carry yourself. You have this… this perfect balance of elegance and a hidden, breathtaking sensuality. And that… that sensuality finds its focal point in your chest. It’s the heart of your power, in a way.”

Sana felt a flush of genuine heat. He wasn’t just a horny fan; he was an analyst. A zealot.

“An interesting theory,” she mused, uncrossing her legs and leaning back. The movement was deliberate, a slow, hypnotic shift. “But let’s be frank. You’ve seen the others. You go to our concerts. You see Momo, with her athletic, powerful physique. Jihyo, who is, shall we say, generously endowed. By many standards, they are… bigger. Why not dedicate your shrine to them?”

This was the test. The core of his obsession.

Alex shook his head immediately, his expression turning almost reverent. “No. You don’t understand. It’s not about size. It’s about perfection. It’s about form and symmetry and… personality.”

He leaned forward, his nervousness replaced by a passionate intensity. “Jihyo is beautiful, but it’s a… a bold, loud beauty. Momo is incredible, but it’s a sharp, athletic beauty. Yours… yours is like a work of classical art. It’s the subtle slope, the perfect teardrop shape. The way they move when you walk, when you breathe. It’s not just… tissue. It’s a sculpture. The ratio, the lift, the way they sit on your frame… it’s mathematically, aesthetically flawless. They’re not just big, they’re perfect. They’re you.”

His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes shining with a feverish devotion. Sana was mesmerized. She had never heard her body described with such a blend of clinical precision and worshipful poetry. It was the most objectifying, and yet the most flattering, thing she had ever heard. A shiver ran down her spine, settling deep in her core.

“So,” she said, her voice now a husky whisper. “To you, I’m a… a masterpiece.”

“You are the masterpiece,” he corrected without hesitation. “The Sistine Chapel of cleavage.”

A genuine, unguarded laugh escaped her. It was absurd. It was insane. And it was turning her on more than she could have ever imagined. She stood up, slowly, and walked toward him. He watched her approach, his breath held in his chest, his body rigid.

She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, smell the scent of her perfume. She looked down at him, a goddess looking down at her most devout follower.

“You’ve spent years looking at pictures, Alex,” she said, her voice barely audible. “You’ve studied the art from every possible angle. You’ve written sonnets about the shadows and the light.”

She reached out a single finger and gently tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“Are you ready,” she breathed, “for a hands on experience?”

A strangled sound, half-gasp, half-sob, was his only reply. He looked like a man witnessing a miracle, his face pale, his eyes burning with a feverish intensity. Sana’s smile widened. This was it. The culmination of his years of obsessive devotion.

She took a deliberate step back, giving him a full view. With agonizing slowness, her fingers found the hem of her black turtleneck dress. She peeled the clingy fabric upwards, revealing the smooth, toned skin of her stomach, the delicate shadows of her ribcage. His breath hitched, his knuckles white where he gripped his own leather jacket.

As the dress cleared her chest, his masterpiece was revealed. She wore nothing underneath. Her breasts settled into their perfect, teardrop shape, pale and flawless in the soft lamplight. They were not large in a cumbersome way, but exquisitely proportioned to her frame, full and heavy with a gentle, natural slope. Her nipples were a dusty rose, tightening instantly in the cool air, blooming into hard, sensitive points that seemed to ache for attention.

She pulled the dress over her head and let it pool at her feet. She stood before him in only her tiny black lace panties and heeled boots, a goddess carved from ivory and desire. Let him look. Let him see that the art he had worshipped through pixels was real, and infinitely more breathtaking.

“You can breathe, Alex,” she murmured, her voice a low, sultry tease.

He let out a shuddering gasp, as if he’d been holding his breath for years. His eyes were wide, devouring the sight of her. “They’re… perfect,” he whispered, the words full of reverence.

“I know,” she said, her voice laced with confident power. She took a step closer, her knees brushing against his. “Now, touch them. Show me.”

His hands trembled as he raised them, hovering so close she could feel the heat radiating from his palms. He was afraid, she realized, afraid to touch the holy grail. Sana took pity on him. She reached out and took his wrists, her touch firm and sure, and she placed his hands directly onto her breasts.

The moment his skin made contact with hers, a jolt shot through them both. His hands were warm, a little rough, and they felt glorious against her sensitive flesh. He cupped her, his palms molding perfectly to her weight, his thumbs brushing reverently against the soft undersides. He just held them for a moment, his eyes closed, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face.

“Feel that?” she whispered. “That’s real.”

He opened his eyes, and they were shining. He began to move his hands, his touch still worshipful but growing bolder. He traced the full, heavy curve of them, his fingers learning the topography of her skin. He ran his thumbs over her aching nipples, and Sana couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped her lips, her back arching instinctively, pushing her tits further into his hands.

“More,” she commanded, her voice husky. “Use your mouth.”

Leaning forward, he obeyed. He didn’t go straight for the peaks. Instead, he pressed his face into the soft valley between her breasts, inhaling deeply, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. He licked a slow, wet trail up the slope of her right breast until he reached her nipple. He flicked his tongue over the tight bud, and she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

He took the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and his lips creating a firm, sucking pressure. It was incredible. He was a natural, his every movement guided by years of obsessive fantasy. He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, licking, sucking, and then—oh god—he gently scraped his teeth against her sensitive nub.

“Fuck!” Sana gasped, the sharp, unexpected pleasure shooting straight to her cunt, making her soaked. Her panties were drenched, her clit throbbing with a desperate, insistent need. He bit down again, a little harder this time, and her knees went weak. She had to grab his shoulders to steady herself.

He was lost in it, a man worshipping at his altar. He squeezed her tits together, his hands firm and demanding, and flicked his tongue back and forth between her nipples, alternating between soft licks and hard, biting sucks. Sana was writhing, a litany of curses and moans falling from her lips. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pure sensation.

But she was still in control.

“Enough,” she breathed, pushing him gently away. He looked up at her, his face flushed, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes dazed with lust. “Your turn to lie down.”

He didn’t question her. He scrambled back onto the sofa, lying on his back, his chest heaving. His hard cock was straining against the zipper of his jeans, a clear, desperate outline. Sana smiled, a slow, predatory grin. She climbed onto the sofa, straddling his waist but not putting her full weight on him.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered.

He did. Sana leaned forward, supporting herself on her arms, and lowered her breasts until they brushed against his face. He gasped, his hands coming up to clutch her hips. She rubbed her tits all over him, against his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. She dragged her hard nipples across his stubble, the friction sending sparks through her own body. She was giving him a boob massage, letting him feel the soft weight, the warm skin, the intimate press of her flesh against his. She could feel his ragged breath against her cleavage.

“Keep them closed,” she whispered, climbing off him.

She walked to the ensuite bathroom, her hips swaying. She returned a moment later with a small, complimentary bottle of massage oil. She knelt beside him on the sofa.

“Open your eyes,” she said. “Watch this.”

She poured a stream of the warm, scented oil directly onto her chest. It trickled down her skin, making her breasts gleam in the light. She set the bottle down and began to massage the oil in, her hands sliding over her slick skin, cupping and squeezing her own tits. His eyes were locked on her hands, on the way her oiled nipples glistened, and he let out a low, guttural groan.

“You like that?” she purred. “You like watching me play with my tits?”

“God, yes,” he choked out.

“Good,” she said. “Because now, they’re going to play with you.”

She moved down his body, her oiled breasts leaving a trail on his skin. She quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, tugging them and his boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, thick, long, and rock-hard, the head already glistening with precum. It was perfect.

Sana shuffled forward, positioning his cock between her slick breasts. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, as she pressed her tits together, enveloping him in a soft, warm, oily tunnel.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his head falling back against the sofa cushions.

She began to move. She slid her breasts up and down his shaft, the oil making the movement impossibly smooth and slick. With every upward stroke, the flushed head of his cock would emerge from between them, and she would flick her tongue against it, tasting the salty precum. He was writhing beneath her, his hands fisted in the sofa cushions, his hips bucking up to meet her movements.

“Look at me,” she demanded. “Watch me fuck your cock with my tits.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto hers. The sight of her, her body gleaming with oil, her breasts wrapped around his dick, was almost too much for him. She picked up the pace, her movements becoming faster, more demanding. She squeezed her tits tighter around him, increasing the friction.

“Is this everything you dreamed of?” she panted, her own arousal building to an unbearable peak.

“It’s better,” he gasped. “So much better…”

“Then cum for me,” she commanded, her voice a raw, husky cry. “Cum all over my fucking tits. Mark me.”

That was it. That was all it took. With a loud, strangled shout, his back arched off the sofa. He came hard, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock, painting her chest, her neck, her oiled breasts. It was a primal, filthy, perfect climax to his ultimate fantasy.

He collapsed, boneless and panting. Sana sat back, looking down at the mess he’d made. A deep, feral satisfaction coursed through her. She was covered in his cum, the evidence of his obsession. And yet, her own cunt was still throbbing, still desperate and empty. She was far from finished.

She looked at him, at his sated, exhausted form, and a wicked thought entered her mind. She crawled up his body, her cum-slick tits dragging against his skin. She straddled his face, her dripping pussy just inches from his mouth.

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and renewed hunger. “Sana…”

“I’m not done with you yet, Melon Maestro,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “You made a mess. Now you’re going to clean it up, and then you’re going to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. She shifted forward, lowering her cum-splattered chest toward his mouth. It was a test. A final, debasing act of worship. For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering from her eyes to the sticky, pearly fluid coating her skin. Then, his devotion won out. He closed his eyes and leaned in, his tongue tentatively licking a bead of his own cum from the swell of her breast.

A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in Sana’s chest. “That’s it,” she encouraged, her voice softer now, a reward for his obedience. “Clean me. All of it.”

He became lost in the task. He licked her skin with long, slow strokes, his tongue hot and rough. He cleaned the slick valley between her tits, tasting the mixture of oil, sweat, and his own seed. He sucked gently on her nipples, now sensitive and swollen from his earlier attention, making her shudder. He was thorough, meticulous, leaving no patch of skin untouched. He wasn't just cleaning her; he was anointing her, a final act of contrition before the main event.

When he was finished, her chest was clean, gleaming with his saliva. Sana felt a primal thrill surge through her. He had submitted completely.

“Good boy,” she murmured, sliding back down his body. His cock, which had softened slightly, was already stirring back to life, rising to the occasion with impressive speed. He was young, virile, and utterly captivated. He was ready for her.

She took hold of his slick, hardening shaft, giving it a few firm strokes. He groaned, his hips bucking into her hand. “Please, Sana…” he begged. “I need you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice thick with her own desire. She positioned the head of his cock at her dripping entrance, not yet taking him in. “But you’re going to fuck me how I want, when I want. Understand?”

“Yes,” he choked out. “Anything.”

With a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, she sank down onto him. He slid into her hot, tight cunt with exquisite ease, stretching her, filling her completely. A long, guttural moan was torn from both of their lips. Sana paused, savoring the sensation of being full, of having him inside her at last. She braced her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into his muscles.

She began to move, a slow, grinding rhythm at first. She rolled her hips, swirling them in tight circles, feeling every inch of him rubbing against her inner walls. Her tits, still damp and sensitive, swayed with her movements, capturing his rapt attention. He watched them, mesmerized, as if he couldn’t believe his fantasy had culminated in this very moment.

“Eyes on my face,” she commanded, her voice sharp.

He tore his gaze from her chest and met her eyes. The raw, desperate lust she saw there sent a jolt straight to her clit. She picked up the pace, her movements becoming faster, more erratic. She bounced on his cock, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing in the quiet room. She was chasing her own release now, using his body as the instrument of her pleasure. He was just along for the glorious, unbelievable ride.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she panted, her head falling back, her dark hair a wild curtain around her face. “Your cock is mine.”

“It’s yours,” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip her waist, his fingers digging into her skin. “All yours.”

She leaned forward, changing the angle, and his cock slammed directly into her G-spot. A sharp cry escaped her, a blinding flash of pleasure. “Right there,” she moaned. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He thrust up to meet her, his movements growing frantic, driven by a desperate need to please her. The coil of tension in her belly wound tighter and tighter, a white-hot knot of pure ecstasy. The world narrowed to the feeling of him pounding into her, the sight of his face contorted in pleasure, the sound of their ragged breaths mingling in the air.

“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her voice high and thin. “Oh, fuck, Alex, I’m gonna cum!”

Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, a violent, shuddering release that stole her breath and blinded her. Her cunt clenched around his cock, milking him, pulling him over the edge with her. With a loud, guttural roar, he came, his hips jackhammering up into her as he flooded her with his hot release.

She collapsed onto his chest, her body trembling and limp, her heart hammering against his. They lay there for a long time, a tangled, sweaty heap of limbs, the only sound in the room their harsh, uneven breathing. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a raw, animalistic perfume.

Eventually, Sana stirred. The post-orgasmic haze was beginning to clear, replaced by the cold, sharp clarity of her purpose. She pushed herself up, his softened cock slipping out of her. A trickle of their combined fluids dripped down her thigh.

She stood up on unsteady legs and walked into the bathroom without a word. She cleaned herself up, wiping away the sticky evidence of their encounter. When she emerged, Alex was sitting up on the sofa, pulling on his jeans. He looked dazed, his expression a mixture of profound satisfaction and burgeoning panic.

Sana ignored him. She walked over to where her dress lay on the floor and pulled it on, the cool fabric a stark contrast to her still-flushed skin. She smoothed it down, her movements once again graceful and composed. She was no longer the wanton goddess; she was Sana of Twice, and the mask of an idol was firmly back in place.

She turned to face him. He was fully dressed now, standing awkwardly by the door. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

“This never happened,” she said, her voice cold, flat, and utterly devoid of the passion from moments before. It was the voice she used with sasaengs, with overstepping journalists. The voice that carried the full weight of JYP Entertainment behind it.

He flinched but nodded quickly. “I know. I won’t say anything. I swear.”

“You’d better not,” she continued, her eyes like chips of ice. “If I ever see so much as a vague allusion to this on any of your pathetic little fan accounts, I will personally make sure you’re sued into oblivion. I will make your life a living hell. You will never be able to get within a hundred feet of a Twice event for the rest of your life. Do you understand me, Alex?”

He paled, his bravado and devotion completely gone, replaced by sheer terror. “Yes. Yes, I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “You got what you wanted. And I got what I wanted. Now get out.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He fumbled for the door handle, his hands shaking so badly he could barely turn it. He cast one last, terrified look back at her before fleeing into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him with a sound of finality.

Sana stood alone in the center of the room. The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, a potent cocktail of power and lingering arousal. She walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen, and a dark blush still stained her cheeks. She looked thoroughly, satisfyingly fucked.

A slow, secret smile spread across her face. The risk had been immense, the potential for catastrophic disaster overwhelming. But the reward… the reward was a memory she would cherish forever. The thrill of absolute control, the raw, unfiltered worship, the pure, animalistic sex.

It had opened a door inside her, a door to a world of secret, dangerous indulgences. And as she turned to leave the suite, her steps confident and sure, she knew, with a thrilling certainty, that she would be walking through that door again.

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Where reality marges with wildest imaginations. All about K-Pop, BLACKPINK and Jisoo💜

[sunnusi]

Would shove my face between her asscheeks and sniff so hard before putting my tongue in her asshole

[spicycaptions]

Momo stumbles backstage after the encore, body still buzzing, sweat dripping down her neck straight into that insane cleavage. The sparkly white fringe top is fucking ruined—clinging like a second skin to her massive, bouncing Japanese tits that stole the whole damn show. Every thrust, every hip roll had those heavy jugs jiggling for the fancam pervs, and she knew it.

She kicks the dressing room door shut, locks it, and turns to the manager who's already sitting there with his pants tented like a desperate fanboy. No chit-chat. Momo just hooks her thumbs under the soaked straps and yanks the top down hard. Her fat, slick tits spill out with a heavy bounce—nipples hard as bullets from the AC and the adrenaline rush.

“Eyes up here? Nah, we both know why you're hard,” she sneers, dropping to her knees right between his spread legs. She grabs her own sweaty boobs, squeezes them together into a perfect, deep valley, and shoves his throbbing cock right in the middle.

The heat is insane,soft, slippery skin swallowing him whole as she starts pumping. Slow drags at first, letting him feel every inch of those plush, heavy udders sliding up and down his shaft. Then faster. Harder. Wet, filthy sounds filling the room while her tongue darts out to lap at the leaking tip each time it pokes through her cleavage.

“Look at you already leaking like a bitch,” she mocks, smirking up at him with those sharp eyes. “All those guys out there jerking to my fancams tonight… but you get the real thing. Lucky fucker.”

She cranks up the pace, mashing her tits tighter around him, nipples dragging along his length, smearing sweat and precum everywhere. His hips buck uselessly, hands clawing at the chair. She doesn't let up—keeps milking him with those sloppy, perfect cow tits until he finally snaps.

A choked groan rips out of him as he erupts, thick hot ropes shooting across her chest, splattering her deep cleavage, dripping down the curves, coating her nipples in white. Momo keeps sliding, squeezing out every last pulse, painting herself like a trophy.

She finally pulls back, tits glistening with cum and sweat, and stands up slowly. She runs a finger through the mess on her chest, licks it off with a lazy smirk.

“Wipe your dick and get out,” she says coolly, already turning toward the shower. “These fat tits got another arena full of losers to tease tomorrow night.”