Words: 2,099
Tags: Mother x Son, Taboo, Incest, Vanilla
How do we define a good mother—by the sacrifices she makes in the light, or by her willingness to defy the very world that tells her how to love?
Momo hummed a gentle tune from her idol days as she sorted through the laundry basket in the sunlit living room, her lithe yet curvaceous body moving with a natural grace that hadn't faded since her time in Twice. At 40, she'd traded the stage lights for a quieter life as a single mother to her 18-year-old son, Ji-hoon. Motherhood had rounded her out in all the right places—her hips swayed fuller now, and her D-cup breasts strained against the fabric of her simple white tank top. She wasn't naive, exactly; life had taught her a few hard lessons after leaving the group, but her trusting nature remained, especially when it came to Ji-hoon. He was her world, and she'd do anything to support his dreams.
Ji-hoon entered the room, sketchbook tucked under his arm, his cheeks tinged with a feigned nervousness. 'Mom, I've got this big art competition coming up at school,' he said, his voice casual but his eyes lingering a beat too long on the way her tank top clung to her chest. 'The theme is human form, and I need some reference photos to work from. Nothing fancy—just you posing a bit. Would you mind? It'd mean a lot.'
Momo paused, folding a towel with careful hands. She tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder, a flicker of curiosity in her expressive eyes. Posing for photos? It sounded innocent enough, but something about the request made her pause. She remembered the paparazzi from her idol years, how invasive it could feel. Still, this was her son, not some stranger. 'Photos for art? Like, modeling?' she asked, her tone light but probing. 'I guess I could help. As long as it's just for your project.'
Ji-hoon's face brightened. 'Exactly! It'll be quick. We can use my room—better lighting.'
They moved to his bedroom, where he'd set up a makeshift studio with his phone on a tripod and a ring light. Momo stood in her everyday outfit—a loose blouse over jeans that hugged her thighs—and followed his directions. 'Just stand straight, hands on hips,' Ji-hoon instructed, snapping a few shots. She complied, shifting her weight, feeling a bit self-conscious under the focused attention. 'Is this okay? I don't want to look silly.'
'You're great, Mom. Natural and everything.' He reviewed the images on his phone, his mind already racing ahead. The simple poses captured her outline, but he craved more detail, more intimacy to feed the secret fantasies he'd harbored for months. 'Hey, for the next set, could you change into that sundress? The one with the flowy skirt. It'd show better lines for drawing the body's curves.'
Momo hesitated in the doorway, her fingers twisting the hem of her blouse. A sundress? That felt a touch more revealing than jeans and a top. She glanced at Ji-hoon, who looked so earnest, his pencil already sketching rough outlines. Art was subjective, she reminded herself— she'd posed in outfits far skimpier during Twice photoshoots. If it helped him win, why not? 'Alright, give me a minute.' She slipped into her bedroom and emerged in the yellow sundress, the thin straps exposing her shoulders, the neckline dipping just low enough to hint at cleavage. The fabric swished against her legs as she walked back.
Ji-hoon swallowed hard, his pulse quickening at the sight. 'Perfect. Sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed.' Momo did, crossing her ankles demurely, her hands resting in her lap. He took photos from various angles, directing her to uncross and recross her legs, to lean forward slightly. Each movement made the dress ride up her thighs, exposing smooth skin. 'Arch your back a little—yeah, like that. It emphasizes the posture.'
As she arched, Momo felt the fabric pull taut across her breasts, her nipples faintly outlined against the light material. A warm flush crept up her neck. Was this necessary? She met Ji-hoon's eyes, searching for reassurance. 'This feels a bit… exposed. Is it really helping your art?'
He nodded quickly, stepping closer to adjust her posture, his hand brushing her shoulder. 'Totally. Artists study the body in motion. Trust me, Mom—it's professional.' His touch was brief, but it lingered in her mind, a mix of maternal comfort and something unfamiliar. She pushed the doubt aside; he was her boy, and she wanted him to succeed.
The session continued, Ji-hoon's suggestions growing bolder. 'Lie back on the bed, one arm above your head.' Momo reclined, the dress hiking up to mid-thigh, her body stretching out languidly. He snapped away, but his voice dropped lower. 'You know, for a real figure study, sometimes models wear less. Like lingerie. I read about it in an art book—helps capture the form without distractions from clothes.'
Momo sat up slowly, her brows furrowing. Lingerie? That crossed a line in her thoughts. She wasn't some airhead; she knew how suggestive that could be, especially with her son behind the camera. Her heart thudded with uncertainty. 'Lingerie? Ji-hoon, that seems… intimate. Are you sure that's what your teacher wants?' She stood, smoothing the dress down, her kind eyes pleading for honesty.
Ji-hoon met her gaze, his expression pleading. 'Mom, please. It's not like that—it's art. I promise. If I don't get good references, I might not even place. You're the only one I trust with this.' He paused, adding softly, 'I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.'
Her resolve wavered. The doubt gnawed at her— was this appropriate? But seeing his desperation, the way he clutched his sketchbook like a lifeline, melted her reservations. She'd faced worse judgments in her career; this was for family. 'Okay,' she sighed, a small smile breaking through. 'But just for a few photos, alright? And nothing too crazy.' She retreated to change, emerging in a delicate black lace lingerie set she'd bought on a whim years ago. The bra cupped her full tits, the sheer cups allowing her dark nipples to peek through faintly. The panties were high-cut, accentuating her round ass and the subtle curve of her pussy mound.
Ji-hoon's breath hitched, his cock stirring in his jeans as he adjusted the light. 'Start with your back to me, Mom. Hands on your hips, glance over your shoulder.' Momo turned, her heart racing with a cocktail of curiosity and nerves. The air felt cooler on her exposed skin, the lace whispering against her body. She arched her back slightly, feeling vulnerable yet compelled by his need.
He stepped forward, phone clicking. 'A little more arch—good.' Under the pretense of perfecting the pose, Ji-hoon placed his hands on her lower back, his palms warm through the thin strap. He pressed gently, guiding her deeper into the curve, his fingers splaying across the dimples just above her ass. The touch sent a unexpected shiver up her spine, and Momo tensed. 'That tickles a bit,' she said, her voice tentative, glancing back at him.
'It's for the right angle,' he murmured, his thumbs circling slowly, dipping into the soft creases where her back met her buttocks. He let his hands slide lower, cupping the undersides of her ass cheeks briefly, squeezing the firm flesh before pulling away to snap more photos. Momo's skin prickled, a curious warmth blooming low in her belly. Was this part of it? She doubted, but his focused demeanor kept her in place.
Emboldened, Ji-hoon moved to her sides. 'Turn around now, arms at your sides.' As she faced him, her tits rose and fell with quicker breaths, the lace straining. He reached for the bra straps, 'adjusting' them by sliding his fingers along the edges, his knuckles grazing the swells of her breasts. 'These are slipping—hold still.' His palms flattened against her ribs, then upward, cupping the heavy undersides of her tits, lifting them slightly as if testing the light's shadow.
Momo's eyes widened, a flush creeping across her chest. His hands on her boobs felt wrong, yet… not aggressive. Just curious, like an artist studying clay. 'Ji-hoon, your hands…' she trailed off, doubting her own protest. For his art, she reminded herself, biting her lip as he squeezed gently, feeling the weight and softness.
'Need to get the contours right,' he said, his voice steady. He tugged the bra cups down an inch, exposing the upper curves and the edges of her areolas. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, which hardened instantly under the friction. He circled them slowly, then pinched lightly, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingers. Momo gasped, her thighs clenching. A jolt of pleasure shot through her, confusing and intense. 'That… feels strange. Is this really necessary?' Her voice held doubt, but she didn't pull away, compelled by his earnest plea earlier.
Ji-hoon nodded, leaning in for close-ups, his mouth inches from her skin. 'Yeah, texture details. Your skin's perfect for it.' He kneaded her tits more firmly now, pushing them together to deepen the cleavage, then releasing to watch them jiggle. His fingers flicked the nipples repeatedly, tracing the sensitive skin around them, even dipping lower to the soft undersides. Momo's breathing hitched, her body betraying her with a growing ache between her legs. She felt dampness forming in her panties, but attributed it to the room's humidity—or nerves. Her mind raced: this was escalating, but stopping now might disappoint him.
'Okay, sit on the bed, lean back on your elbows,' Ji-hoon directed, his own arousal evident in the bulge straining his pants. Momo complied, her legs parting slightly for balance, the lace panties pulling tight against her pussy. The outline of her lips was visible, a faint wet spot darkening the fabric. He knelt between her knees, phone in hand. 'Spread your legs a little more—helps with the full-body composition.'
As she parted her thighs, exposing more, doubt flooded her again. 'This pose is so open. Are you sure?' But his encouraging nod silenced her, and she held it. Ji-hoon's free hand trailed up her inner thigh, the skin there ultra-sensitive, goosebumps rising in its wake. His fingers danced higher, reaching the edge of her panties. 'The fabric's casting weird shadows—mind if I adjust?' Without waiting, he hooked a finger under the side, pulling it aside to reveal her slick folds.
Momo's breath caught, her hips twitching involuntarily. 'Ji-hoon!' The exposure made her pulse throb, curiosity mixing with alarm. His finger slid along her outer lips, parting them gently, the cool air hitting her wetness. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way he focused on the camera—like it was all clinical—kept her from bolting.
'Just for the light play,' he whispered, his index finger circling her clit, swollen and slick. He rubbed it in deliberate strokes, feeling it pulse under his touch. Momo moaned softly, her tits heaving. 'Oh… that tingles. What's happening?' Pleasure coiled tighter, her body responding despite her confusion.
He dipped lower, sliding one finger into her tight pussy, the walls clenching around him. He pumped slowly at first, then added a second finger, curling them to stroke her inner walls. His thumb continued on her clit, pressing and circling. Juices coated his hand, dripping down her thighs. Momo's doubts faded into a haze; she gripped the sheets, her kind heart compelling her to endure for him, even as waves of sensation built.
Ji-hoon's other hand returned to her tits, twisting the nipples hard while he finger-fucked her deeper, faster. He watched her pussy grip his digits, her clit throbbing under his thumb. 'Almost done, Mom. Hold the pose.' The teasing intensified—fingers plunging rhythmically, clit rubbed relentlessly, tits mauled until her skin flushed red.
Momo's body arched, her mind a whirlwind of curiosity and bliss. She didn't recognize the mounting pressure, the way her pussy fluttered. 'Ji-hoon, I feel… ahh, something's building. Is this normal for posing?' Her voice broke into a whimper as the orgasm crashed over her, her pussy spasming wildly, gushing cum around his fingers in hot waves. She cried out, thighs quaking, tits bouncing with each convulsion.
'What—oh god!' Momo collapsed back, panting, her face a mask of bewilderment and lingering pleasure. Her pussy still twitched, wetness soaking the bed. She touched her thigh, feeling the slickness. 'I… I think something went wrong. Did I ruin the photos?'
Ji-hoon pulled his fingers free, surreptitiously licking the tangy essence from them, his cock aching with unspent need. 'No, Mom, they're incredible. You were amazing.' He helped her sit up, her body trembling, as she offered a shaky smile, still doubting but relieved she'd helped her son.
Author's Note: Hellooooo, I'm back, hope you guys liked this new momo smut I've cooked up. Thanks for reading <3
If you liked any of my works and wish to support, u can BUY ME A COFFEE: Link
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
If you liked any of my works and wish to support, u can BUY ME A COFFEE: Link
are you planning to monetize your work? Especially the more 'exclusive' stuff?
Honestly, I’m not really planning on monetizing my work or putting anything behind a paywall T.T I just love writing these stories! But if you want to support me, you can always buy me a coffee link here—it definitely helps keep the late-night sessions going.
Liked all your smuts. But Mina one - I really loved everything about it. Maybe a bit short but i guess it was short and sweet.
Hopefully you'll do longer ones too, especially for the idol x father (or other older relative that is not the older brother), they are rare gems among smuts.
Tysm!! Glad you liked the Mina one even if it was a bit of a quick read. No worries though, Pure Bliss is actually gonna be a whole series so there’s definitely longer stuff coming. I’ve got some of those rarer tropes on the list too, so stay tuned!
Tzuyu stepped off the runway after her big walk at the Victoria's Secret fashion show. The lights had been so bright, and the crowd's cheers still rang in her ears. She felt a mix of pride and nerves. Her outfit was a tight black lace bodysuit that hugged every curve of her slim body. The front dipped low, pushing up her small, firm breasts so they looked full and inviting. The sides cut high on her hips, showing off her smooth skin and the round shape of her ass. She walked carefully in her high heels, feeling the lace rub against her sensitive spots with each step. Backstage was a whirlwind—models rushing by, stylists calling out last-minute changes, and the air thick with perfume and excitement. Tzuyu slipped into a quieter spot near a wall to take a deep breath and steady her racing heart.
Her phone kept vibrating in her hand. She pulled it out and opened her social media apps. The notifications flooded in, mostly from fans. But as she scrolled, the comments turned dirty fast. One said, 'Tzuyu in that lace? Fuck, I want to rip it off and pound her right there on the runway.' Another popped up: 'Those tits are begging to be sucked. Look at how hard her nipples poke through.' Then even more: 'Her ass cheeks peeking out like that— I'd bend her over, spread them wide, and tongue her tight little hole until she screams my name.' Tzuyu's cheeks burned hot. She was just a sweet, shy idol from Twice, new to this kind of modeling gig. These words hit her like a shock, making her stomach flip. But deep down, a strange warmth spread through her body. Her nipples tightened against the thin lace, standing out stiff and obvious. She crossed her legs tight, feeling a tingle between her thighs. She bit her lower lip hard, trying to push away the naughty images filling her mind. She glanced around quickly, hoping no one noticed her flushed face or the way her breathing quickened.
Just then, Lisa, her assistant manager, walked up with a clipboard in hand. Lisa was efficient and always on top of things. 'Tzuyu, that was amazing out there! You owned the runway. Now, let's get you into the next outfit—it's all set up in the private changing room. Come with me.' Tzuyu nodded, her voice soft and shy. 'Okay, thank you.' She tucked her phone into the small pocket of her robe and followed Lisa down a narrow hallway. The sounds of the show faded a bit as they went. The room they entered was small but fancy—soft overhead lights, full-length mirrors on every wall, and racks of glittering lingerie hanging neatly. The air smelled sweet, like fresh flowers mixed with the faint musk of body heat from all the activity.
But Tzuyu froze when she saw the four men already inside. They were huge, with broad shoulders and thick arms that strained against their black shirts. Their eyes locked right on her, scanning her body from head to toe. Lisa didn't seem bothered. 'These are your specialists for the quick change,' she explained casually. 'The show's moving fast, and they're the best at getting models ready without a hitch. Totally professional—everything stays confidential.' Tzuyu's voice came out small. 'Um, where are the female helpers? I thought…' Lisa gave her a reassuring pat on the back. 'They're tied up with other girls. Trust me, these guys know what they're doing. Just relax and let them handle it. I'll be right outside if you need anything.' With that, Lisa slipped out and shut the door behind her, the lock clicking softly into place.
Tzuyu stood there in the center of the room, her heart pounding louder now. Her wide, innocent eyes darted between the men. They towered over her petite frame, their presence filling the space. The tallest one stepped forward first, holding up the next outfit—a shiny red corset that looked even more revealing than the last, paired with a tiny matching thong. His voice was deep and steady. 'No worries, Tzuyu. We're here to make you shine even brighter on that runway. Arms up, and we'll get this lace off you nice and easy.' She hesitated, her mind screaming to call Lisa back or run out. But the show was counting on her, and backing out now would look bad. Swallowing hard, she raised her arms slowly. The men closed in around her, their bodies so close she could feel the heat coming off them.
Hands reached for her at once—strong, calloused fingers working the tiny hooks down the back of her bodysuit. They undid them one by one, deliberate and unhurried, even though the show was rushing. The lace loosened, and the top part peeled away from her skin. Her perky breasts came into view, small but perfectly shaped, with pink nipples already pebbled from the cool room air and the lingering heat from those online comments. One man tugged the suit lower, over her flat stomach and narrow hips. His knuckles grazed the soft mound of her pussy through the fabric, sending an unexpected jolt through her. Tzuyu gasped softly, her arms dropping to cover her chest. 'W-wait, I can…' But they gently but firmly pulled her arms back up. 'Easy now,' the one behind her murmured, his breath warm against her ear as he slid the suit down her thighs. 'We've done this a hundred times. Nothing to be shy about.' He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through her.
In seconds, the bodysuit pooled at her feet, leaving her completely naked except for the strappy heels that made her legs look endlessly long. Goosebumps prickled her skin, and she shivered, her face turning a deep shade of pink. The men didn't let her stand there exposed for long—they moved like a team, efficient but with touches that lingered just a bit too much. The kneeling one picked up the thong first. 'Step in, one foot at a time.' He guided her heels through the leg holes, then slid the thin fabric up her calves, over her knees, and along her smooth thighs. His rough palms brushed the inside of her legs, inching higher until his fingers nearly touched the crease where her thigh met her pussy. Tzuyu's breath hitched; she felt the first hint of dampness gathering between her folds, her body betraying her shyness.
Next came the corset. They wrapped the stiff red material around her waist, pulling the laces tight from behind. It cinched her in, making her waist tiny and thrusting her breasts up higher. As they adjusted the cups over her chest, the touches turned bolder. The tallest man's thumbs traced lazy circles around the edges of her areolas, avoiding the stiff peaks but close enough to make them ache. A spark shot straight down to her core, and Tzuyu squirmed. 'That… that tickles,' she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction. He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear. 'Tickles, or feels good? Your body's telling us it likes the attention.' Her hips shifted involuntarily, the heat building low in her belly like a slow fire.
The men rotated around her, each taking a turn to 'adjust' the fit. One slid his hand down her side, fingers splaying over her hip to smooth the corset. But he dipped lower, his palm cupping the curve of her ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze that made the flesh jiggle slightly. His pinky finger dipped into the cleft, brushing the sensitive skin there. Tzuyu let out a tiny whimper, her protests soft and fading. 'Please, I think I can fix it myself…' Another ignored her words, focusing on the shoulder straps. He tugged them into place, but his knuckles dragged repeatedly over her nipples—up and down, side to side—until they throbbed. Then he pinched one lightly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it just enough to send a sharp zing of pleasure-pain through her. She arched her back without meaning to, a quiet 'Ahh' escaping her lips.
They zeroed in on her nipples now, turning the simple change into something far more intense. The second man stepped up, his eyes dark with focus. He took her left nipple between his fingers and rolled it slowly, from the base up to the tip, applying just enough pressure to make it swell and pulse. He twisted gently, watching her face as her innocent features twisted in confusion and growing need. Then he released it, leaving it tingling in the air. Tzuyu's chest heaved, her breaths coming in short pants. He moved to the right one, pinching and tugging it outward before letting it snap back. The pull made her gasp, her knees weakening. Leaning down, he blew a stream of warm breath over both peaks, watching them tighten even more without a single touch. 'Breathe through it, sweetie,' he said, his hand steady on her waist to keep her from pulling away. She leaned into him instead, her body craving the contact despite the shame flooding her mind.
The third man was rougher. He flicked his tongue out, lapping at one nipple in broad, wet circles around the areola. The flat of his tongue dragged slow, coating it in saliva that cooled quickly in the air. He avoided sucking, just teasing the edges until her breast quivered with each pass. Tzuyu's hands clenched at her sides, fingers digging into her palms. 'It… it feels too sensitive,' she murmured, her voice like a child's plea. But when he switched sides, grazing his teeth lightly over the tip—just a nip, not a bite—her resolve cracked. A soft moan slipped out, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears of overwhelming sensation. He pulled back, admiring how her nipples stood out red and begging, every tiny breeze making her flinch.
By the time the fourth man approached, her nipples were hypersensitive peaks, wired straight to her pussy. He captured both between his fingers, squeezing in a rhythmic pulse—tighten, release, tighten—like a heartbeat matching her own rapid one. Each squeeze bordered on too much, blending ache with electric pleasure that made her clit throb in response. He tugged them in unison, elongating them before letting go, and Tzuyu's legs buckled. She swayed, grabbing his arm for support as waves of heat crashed through her. 'I… I don't know if I can stand this,' she breathed, but her body pressed forward, silently asking for more.
Their attention shifted lower, to the tiny thong barely covering her. The wetness from her arousal had already started to show, a dark spot forming on the fabric. The tallest man knelt again, claiming he needed to attach the garters properly. His hands traveled up her leg, starting at her ankle and sliding higher—past the curve of her calf, over her knee, to the soft inner thigh that trembled under his touch. He paused at the edge of the thong, so close to her heat that she clenched her muscles instinctively. 'Just a little wider, Tzuyu. Gotta make sure everything's secure.' Blushing furiously, she parted her thighs a few inches. His finger hooked under the side strap on her hip, pulling the fabric away from her skin slowly. The stretch pulled the front tight against her pussy lips, the seam rubbing directly over her swelling clit. When he let it snap back, the friction hit like a spark. Tzuyu yelped, her hips jerking forward as fresh wetness flooded her folds. The thong clung to her now, soaked and translucent, outlining every detail of her puffy lips and the hard nub above.
He noticed immediately, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'Look at that—you're getting all slippery already.' He tugged the fabric to the side fully, exposing her bare pussy to the room. Her slit glistened with arousal, a neat trim of soft hair framing it. Her clit peeked out, swollen and pink. He traced one finger from her entrance upward, gathering her slick juices, then circled the clit with feather-light pressure. Tzuyu bucked, a strangled 'No, please wait!' tumbling out. But her protest dissolved into a whine as he kept the touch maddeningly light, building the pressure without release. He stopped just as her thighs quivered, leaving her hanging on the edge.
The second man took over, using both hands to part her pussy lips wide. He held them open, letting the cool air kiss her exposed clit and inner walls. It twitched visibly, desperate for more. Tzuyu moaned, her head falling back against the mirror. He finally rubbed, firm circles with his thumb that made her hips grind air. Her inner muscles fluttered, more cream leaking out to drip down her thighs. 'Feels like you need this bad,' he growled, but he eased off right when her breaths turned ragged, denying her the peak.
The third pushed further. He pressed one thick finger against her entrance, sliding it in just the tip—enough to stretch her tightness—then withdrawing. He repeated it, shallow thrusts that teased her walls. Each time, he curled the finger to graze that sensitive spot inside, while his thumb flicked her clit sporadically. Tzuyu's resistance crumbled; she gripped their arms hard, her nails digging in as she panted. 'It's building up… too intense, I feel so full and empty at once.' Her hips rolled to chase the intrusion, her pussy clenching around nothing now, the scent of her arousal heavy in the air.
The fourth man amped it up, cupping her entire mound and grinding the heel of his hand against her clit in slow, deliberate rolls. His fingers danced at her hole, dipping in deeper with each pass—one knuckle, then two—but always pulling out before she could clamp down. Tzuyu trembled violently, every nerve alight. 'Please… I can't take the teasing anymore. Touch me right,' she begged, her innocent facade shattering as raw need took hold. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, her body a live wire.
The tallest one decided it was time. He guided her back until her ass hit the edge of the vanity counter, the cool surface a shock against her heated skin. Her legs spread wide on instinct, the men holding her thighs apart to keep her open and vulnerable. He plunged two fingers deep into her soaked pussy, filling her completely. They scissored inside, stretching her walls as he crooked them to rub that front spot relentlessly. His thumb mashed her clit in tight, fast circles. Wet squelching sounds echoed with each thrust. 'Let it go, Tzuyu—cum hard for us. You've earned it.' Her last whisper of 'I shouldn't…' faded as the orgasm crashed over her. She cried out, her pussy convulsing around his fingers, squirting a gush of clear fluid that splashed his wrist and the floor. Her whole body shook, waves of ecstasy ripping through her until she slumped, spent and dazed.
They didn't rush her after. Gently, they straightened the corset, wiping away the evidence of her release with soft towels. Their hands were tender now, almost caring. 'All set for the runway, beautiful?' one asked with a knowing grin. Tzuyu nodded weakly, her mind foggy. The shy girl who'd entered was gone, replaced by someone awakened. She straightened up, smoothed her hair, and headed back out—changed, ready, and secretly craving the lights.
Author's note: Longest smut so far, hope u guys like it! 👻
Tags: Niece x Uncle, Drunk, Creampie, Vanilla, Incest, Taboo
Drunk Dahyun with his doting uncle
The after-party at Dahyun's spacious residence buzzed with laughter and chatter from her extended family, all gathered to celebrate her special day as per their cherished tradition. Relatives milled about the living room, clinking glasses and sharing stories, while Dahyun, the K-pop idol, had slipped away to her bedroom upstairs for a moment of respite. She had indulged a bit too freely in the soju and cocktails, her cheeks flushed and her steps unsteady as she lounged on her bed in a tight, sparkly dress that hugged her slim figure.
Her uncle, her father's older brother, arrived fashionably late, his broad shoulders straining against a simple button-up shirt that did little to hide his muscular build from years of manual labor. At 52, he carried an air of quiet strength, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed and his face etched with the lines of a hardworking life. He and Dahyun had always shared a special bond—ever since she was a little girl tugging at his sleeves for piggyback rides. He scanned the crowd downstairs, exchanging quick hellos, but his mind was set on finding her to give his birthday wishes in private, away from the noise.
Slipping past the relatives, the uncle climbed the stairs and knocked softly on her door. 'Happy birthday, kiddo. Sorry I'm late,' he called out, his voice warm but tinged with that familiar paternal affection.
The door creaked open, and Dahyun peeked out, her eyes glassy from the alcohol, a playful smile spreading across her lips. 'Samchon! You made it!' She pulled him inside without a second thought, the door clicking shut behind them. The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, posters of her group adorning the walls, and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
The uncle chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 'You look… grown up tonight.' His eyes flicked over her briefly before darting away, a flicker of unease stirring in his chest. She was no longer the child he remembered; at 25, she was a woman, and the alcohol seemed to amplify her boldness.
Dahyun giggled, swaying slightly as she leaned against him. 'I've missed you, Samchon. Everyone's downstairs being boring. Stay with me?' Her voice turned soft, almost whiny, as she wrapped her arms around his waist in a loose hug. The warmth of her body pressed against his solid frame, and the uncle stiffened, his hands hovering awkwardly before patting her back.
'Of course, but we should—' He started, but she cut him off, pulling back just enough to look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
'Baby me like you used to? I'm so tipsy. Everything's spinning. Aigoo.' She pouted, her fingers toying with the hem of her dress. 'Undress me? Help me get comfy? Pretty please?'
The uncle's face heated up, his throat tightening. 'That's… you're not a little girl anymore. I shouldn't—' But she was already turning away, fumbling with the zipper at her back, her movements clumsy from the drink.
'Come on, it's just us. Family helps family, right? Ne?' She insisted, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint. Guilt twisted in his gut—he knew this crossed lines, but her trust in him, the way she looked to him for comfort, made it hard to refuse outright. With a shaky breath, he stepped closer, his large hands reaching for the zipper.
His fingers brushed her skin as he slowly tugged it down, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The dress parted like silk, revealing the lacy black bra beneath. Dahyun shivered at the touch, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders. The uncle's heart pounded, his eyes fixed on the task to avoid staring, but he couldn't ignore the curve of her spine or the way her skin prickled with goosebumps.
'There… that's better,' he murmured, voice rough, helping her shimmy the dress past her hips. It pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her underwear—matching black panties that clung to her pert ass. She kicked the dress aside and turned to face him, arms outstretched like a child seeking a hug, but her body was all womanly allure.
'Thank you, Samchon. Feels so much freer now. Kamsahamnida.' She stepped closer, her bare skin brushing his clothed chest. The uncle swallowed hard, his mind screaming at him to leave, but his body betrayed him with a growing ache in his pants.
Before he could pull away, her foot caught on the discarded dress. Dahyun tripped forward with a surprised yelp, crashing right into him. Her hands grabbed his shirt for balance, and as they tumbled onto the edge of the bed, she landed straddled across his lap. The impact pressed her core directly against the bulge in his trousers, and she froze, feeling the thick, heavy length of his cock twitch beneath the fabric.
'Oh… Samchon,' she whispered, her drunk haze sharpening into something heated. She shifted experimentally, grinding down just enough to feel its girth outlined against her panties. 'You're… so big. Waa.'
The uncle's face burned with shame, his hands gripping her hips to steady her—or push her off, he wasn't sure. 'Stop. This is wrong. I'm your uncle—we can't.' His voice cracked, guilt flooding him as arousal surged unbidden. But her warmth, the way she rocked subtly against him, made his resolve crumble.
Dahyun leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. 'But it feels right. I want you, Samchon' Her lips brushed his neck, and one hand slid down to palm his erection through his pants, squeezing the rigid shaft.
A groan escaped him despite himself. 'God, no… we shouldn't,' he protested weakly, but his hips bucked up involuntarily, pressing his cock harder against her. She took it as encouragement, unzipping his fly with eager fingers. His boxers strained, and she freed his cock—thick and veined, the head already leaking pre-cum, heavy in her small hand.
'Look at you, so hard for me,' she cooed, stroking him slowly from base to tip. The uncle's breath hitched, his muscular arms trembling as he fought the urge to thrust into her grip. Guilt gnawed at him—this was his niece, family—but the forbidden thrill only made his dick throb more.
She peeled off her panties, tossing them aside, and positioned herself over him. 'I need you inside me, Samchon' She sank down, her wet pussy lips parting around his cockhead. Inch by inch, she took him in, gasping at the stretch as his girth filled her tight channel. The uncle's hands clenched the bedsheets, his face a mask of conflicted ecstasy.
'Fuck… you're too tight,' he rasped, eyes squeezing shut in shame. But his body betrayed him again, hips rising to meet her as she bottomed out, her ass flush against his thighs.
Dahyun started riding him, slow at first, her breasts bouncing in the bra as she lifted and dropped. 'Mmm, yes… just like that.' She moaned, reaching back to unhook her bra, letting her perky tits spill free. The uncle's gaze snapped open, unable to resist watching her nipples harden in the air.
'I-I'm sorry,' he stammered, one hand tentatively cupping her breast, thumb circling the peak. Guilt laced his words, but his other hand guided her hips, pulling her down harder onto his cock. Each thrust sent slick sounds echoing in the room, her juices coating his shaft.
She picked up the pace, grinding her clit against his pubic bone with every bounce. 'Don't be sorry—fuck me, Samchon. Make me cum. Faster!' Her walls clenched around him, milking his length as pleasure built.
The uncle's restraint shattered. He sat up, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, and flipped them so she was beneath him on the bed. 'This is so wrong,' he growled, but he couldn't stop—thrusting deep and hard, his heavy balls slapping against her ass. His muscular body pinned her, cock plunging into her sopping pussy with relentless force.
Dahyun cried out, legs wrapping around him. 'Harder! Yes, Samchon—fill me up!' Her nails dug into his back, urging him on.
The guilt twisted like a knife, but the heat of her body, the way she squeezed him, overwhelmed it. The uncle pounded into her, grunting with each stroke, his cock swelling inside her. 'I can't hold—'
'Cum in me! Ne, Samchon!' she begged, her own orgasm crashing over her. Her pussy spasmed, gushing around him, and that pushed him over the edge. With a choked moan of shame and release, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted, thick ropes of cum flooding her depths. Pulse after pulse, he emptied into her, hips jerking as he painted her insides white.
They collapsed together, panting, his softening cock still twitching inside her. He pulled out slowly, a mix of their fluids leaking from her well-fucked pussy. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling in silent remorse. 'What have we done?' he whispered, but Dahyun just curled against him, content in her post-climax glow, the party's distant hum a reminder that their secret was safe—for now.
Tags: Nayeon x M reader, Vanilla, Masturbation, Best Friend
The rain pattered against the windows of your small apartment, a fitting backdrop to the storm brewing in Nayeon's eyes. You'd been best friends since your college days—Nayeon, the vibrant idol from Twice, always the one to light up a room with her bubbly laugh, and you, the steady constant in her chaotic life. But tonight, as she sat on your couch, knees drawn up to her chest, that spark was dimmed by tears streaking her flawless face.
'He cheated on me,' she whispered, her voice cracking as she clutched a tissue. 'I found out today. Some girl from his work. How could he do that? After everything
Your heart ached for her. You'd always been there, through her debut struggles, her late-night rants about schedules, even the quiet moments when she'd crash at your place after a long day. Without thinking, you moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 'Nayeon, I'm so sorry. That guy's an idiot. You deserve so much better.'
She leaned into you, her body trembling with quiet sobs. Her perfume—something sweet and floral—filled the air between you. Minutes passed like that, until her breathing steadied a little. 'Can you... can you just hold me? I feel so tense everywhere.'
You nodded, your hand gently rubbing her back. 'Here, lie down. Let me give you a massage. It'll help relax you.' It was innocent enough, something you'd done before after her tough dance practices. She hesitated for a second, then stretched out on the couch, her head resting on a pillow, face down. Her simple tank top and shorts clung to her curves, the fabric soft against her skin.
You knelt beside her, your hands warm as they pressed into her shoulders. She let out a soft sigh, her muscles knotted from the stress. 'That feels good,' she murmured, her voice muffled. You worked methodically, thumbs circling the base of her neck, sliding down her spine. Her skin was smooth under the thin strap of her top, and as you kneaded her lower back, she arched slightly, a small hum escaping her lips.
'You're always so good at this,' she said, turning her head to glance at you. Her eyes, still red-rimmed, held a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. 'I don't know what I'd do without you.'
Emboldened by her words, your hands ventured lower, massaging the dip of her waist, then the swell of her hips. She didn't pull away; instead, she shifted, parting her legs just a fraction. The air grew thicker, charged with something unspoken. Your fingers brushed the edge of her shorts, and she shivered.
'Nayeon... is this okay?' you asked, your voice low, heart pounding.
She bit her lip, nodding slowly. 'Yeah... it feels nice. Keep going.' Her tone was soft, laced with a need that mirrored the heat building in you.
Your palms glided over the fabric of her shorts now, pressing into her thighs. She was so close, her body responding to every touch—her breaths coming quicker, her hips subtly lifting. Emboldened, one hand slid upward, cupping the curve of her ass through the thin material. She gasped, a mix of surprise and something deeper.
'Oh... there,' she breathed, her voice husky. 'That spot... it's so tense.'
You squeezed gently, feeling the firmness beneath, then let your fingers trail inward, toward the warmth between her legs. The outline of her pussy was evident through the shorts, the fabric slightly damp already. Your thumb grazed over it, light at first, testing.
Nayeon's reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, her body tensing then melting under your touch. 'Mmm... what are you doing?' she whispered, but there was no protest, only a curious arousal in her eyes as she peeked back at you.
'Touching you where it feels good,' you replied, your voice steady despite the rush of blood in your ears. 'Tell me if you want me to stop.'
She shook her head, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. 'No... don't stop. It feels... really good.' Her words were genuine, laced with the raw emotion of the night—hurt turning into hunger. You pressed firmer, rubbing slow circles over her clothed pussy, feeling the heat radiate through the fabric. She moaned softly, her thighs parting wider, inviting more.
'God, your hands... they're making me so wet,' she admitted, her voice trembling with vulnerability. 'I shouldn't... but I need this. After what he did, I just want to feel wanted.'
Her confession hit you hard, fueling the intimacy. You leaned down, your free hand stroking her hair as you continued the motion, your fingers now tracing the seam of her shorts, pressing against her folds. She rocked against your hand, small whimpers escaping her lips, her body arching in desperate need.
'You're beautiful, Nayeon. So responsive,' you murmured, your thumb finding the spot where her clit would be, circling it through the barrier. She cried out, a genuine, breathy sound that sent a jolt straight to your core.
'Please... more,' she begged, her voice breaking with emotion. 'I feel so empty inside. Touch me deeper.'
The plea was all you needed. With careful fingers, you hooked the edge of her shorts and panties, tugging them aside just enough. Her pussy was exposed now—slick, pink folds glistening with arousal, her entrance clenching in anticipation. You slid one finger along her slit, coating it in her wetness, before pressing the tip against her opening.
Nayeon's eyes widened, her breath hitching as you pushed in slowly. 'Ahh... yes,' she gasped, her walls tight and warm around your digit. She was soaking, her body gripping you like it had been waiting for this. You curled your finger slightly, stroking her inner walls, feeling her pulse around you.
'How does that feel?' you asked, your voice thick with desire, watching her face contort in pleasure.
'Incredible,' she panted, her hips bucking to meet your thrust. 'Deeper... make me forget him. Make me yours.' Tears of release mixed with her moans now, the emotional weight escalating as pleasure overtook the pain. You added a second finger, pumping steadily, your thumb returning to rub her clit in firm circles.
She shattered quickly, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers, a flood of warmth coating your hand as she came with a cry—raw, unfiltered, her body shaking in waves of ecstasy. 'Oh god... I'm cumming... for you,' she sobbed, the words genuine and arousing, pulling you deeper into the moment.
As she came down, panting and spent, she reached for your hand, guiding it to her lips to kiss your fingers clean. 'Thank you,' she whispered, eyes locking with yours, the intimacy between best friends forever changed.
Words: 2,074
Tags: Daughter x Father, Taboo, Incest, Vanilla
Mina stepped through the front door of her family's modest home in Japan, the weight of her suitcase dragging behind her like an anchor. The flight from Seoul had been exhausting, her body aching from endless dance practices and schedules that blurred into one another. But as the familiar scent of home—warm rice and faint traces of her father's cologne—hit her, a wave of relief washed over her. She was finally back, after months of grueling work as an idol with Twice. At 24, Mina had transformed from the shy girl her father knew into a poised performer, but deep down, she craved the simplicity of their old life.
'Dad?' she called softly, kicking off her shoes in the genkan. Her voice echoed slightly in the quiet house. Footsteps hurried from the living room, and there he was—her father, Mr. Myoi, in his mid-50s, his salt-and-pepper hair tousled, wearing a simple button-up shirt and slacks from his day at the office. His face lit up, eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her into a tight embrace.
'Mina! My girl, you're home!' He held her close, his arms strong around her slender frame. She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent, the one that always made her feel safe. 'I've missed you so much. Every day without you here... it's been empty.'
'I missed you more, Dad,' she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. Tears pricked her eyes as she clung to him. Their bond had always been special—closer than most father-daughter pairs. Growing up, before the idol life swept her away, they shared everything. Simple joys like watching movies late into the night or, most memorably, their bath times together. It started when she was little, a practical way for a single father to care for his daughter after her mother passed. Even as she entered her teens, it continued as a ritual of trust and affection, pure and innocent. They'd soak in the tub, chatting about her school days, his work troubles, washing each other's backs without a hint of awkwardness. It was their secret world, lovely and untainted.
But now, after years apart, Mina felt a shift. She pulled back slightly, smiling up at him, though her cheeks flushed a soft pink. 'I'm so tired. Can we... like old times? A bath to unwind?'
Her father's eyes softened, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face. 'Of course, sweetheart. Just like before.' He took her suitcase and led her to the bathroom, the steam already rising from the ofuro he'd prepared earlier, anticipating her arrival. The room was warm, tiled in soft whites, the large tub filled with hot water scented by yuzu.
Mina nodded gratefully, her fingers hesitating at the buttons of her blouse. Undressing in front of him felt familiar yet strangely charged now, her heart pounding a little faster. She unbuttoned slowly, revealing the lacy edge of her bra, then let the fabric slip from her shoulders. Her skirt followed, pooling at her feet, exposing her long, toned legs. She reached behind to unclasp her bra, her full breasts tumbling free—soft mounds with pale pink nipples that tightened in the humid air. A shy glance at her father made her bite her lip, but she didn't stop. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she slid them down, baring the smooth curve of her hips, the dark thatch of hair above her pussy, and the delicate slit between her thighs. Her skin was flawless, a pure white canvas that glowed under the light, her ass pert and rounded from rigorous training.
Her father had turned to grab fresh towels, but when he looked back, he froze. There she was, his little girl, but no longer little. Mina's naked body stood before him, a vision of womanly allure that hit him like a punch to the gut. Her breasts heaved with nervous breaths, nipples erect and inviting. Her waist nipped in before flaring to hips that promised softness, and lower, her pussy lips were slightly parted, a hint of moisture gathering from the steam—or perhaps anticipation. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, a rush of blood surging to his groin.
'Dad? You okay?' Mina asked, her voice small, arms instinctively crossing over her chest before she forced them down, cheeks burning crimson. She stepped into the tub, sinking into the water up to her collarbone, bubbles clinging to her skin. 'Come on, join me. It's been forever.'
He hesitated, his cock already stirring in his pants at the sight of her vulnerability mixed with that idol grace. 'Y-yeah, just... give me a second.' In the steamy privacy, he stripped off his shirt, revealing a chest dusted with gray hair, still solid from his routine jogs. Pants and boxers dropped next, his cock springing free, half-hard and veined, the thick shaft bobbing as he moved. He eased into the tub opposite her, the hot water doing little to cool the fire building inside him. His eyes traced her face, then dipped to the water's edge where her breasts bobbed just beneath.
They settled in, the water rippling gently. Mina sighed, leaning back, but her usual chatter was subdued, replaced by shy smiles. 'Tell me about work, Dad. I want to hear everything.' As he spoke of his mundane office days, she shifted closer, her foot accidentally brushing his calf. The touch made her pull back quickly, eyes widening, but he caught her hand under the water, squeezing gently.
'Tell me about your world, Mina. The stages, the lights... but mostly, how you've been feeling.' His voice was warm, encouraging.
She looked down, fingers twisting in the water. 'It's lonely sometimes. The dorms are full of noise, but I miss... this. Us. No pretending.' Her voice trembled, and she inched nearer, her knee now resting against his thigh. The proximity felt electric, her shyness making her pulse race.
'I missed this so much,' she murmured, reaching out tentatively to trace his forearm, her touch feather-light. 'Just us. No cameras, no schedules.' He felt his cock twitch fully erect now, pressing against his thigh under the surface.
'Mina... you've grown into such a beautiful woman,' he said, voice low and rough. His gaze lingered on her lips, then lower to the way the water beaded on her exposed collarbone. 'More than I ever imagined.'
Her blush deepened, spreading down her neck, but she didn't retreat. Instead, a curious spark lit in her eyes. 'Do you... really think so? I was always just your little girl.' The words carried a weight, innocent yet probing. She turned slowly, offering her back as in their old rituals. 'Wash me, Dad? Like before?'
His hands shook as he lathered the soap, the suds warm between his palms. He started at her shoulders, massaging in firm circles, feeling the tension melt from her muscles. She let out a soft hum, her body relaxing into his touch, head tilting back slightly. His fingers ventured lower, along her spine, thumbs pressing into the dimples above her ass. Mina shivered, not from cold, but from the unfamiliar thrill.
Emboldened by her lack of protest, he slid his hands around her sides, brushing the undersides of her breasts. She gasped quietly, stiffening for a moment, but then arched subtly, pressing into him. 'Dad... that feels...' She trailed off, shy but not stopping him.
'That feels good?' he prompted, his breath hot against her ear. One hand cupped her breast fully now, palm rolling the nipple until it stiffened into a hard peak. Mina nodded, biting her lip to stifle a whimper, her thighs clenching under the water.
The air thickened with unspoken desire. She turned in the tub to face him, water sloshing, her eyes wide and questioning. 'I... I don't know what's happening, but I don't want it to stop.' Her confession was whispered, laced with hesitation yet eagerness to discover more.
He pulled her closer, their bodies aligning, his erection nudging her belly. 'Let me show you how much I've missed taking care of you,' he murmured, guiding her to sit on the tub's edge, legs parted shyly. Mina's heart hammered, her pussy exposed above the water, lips swelling with arousal, a trickle of wetness escaping despite the bath.
'Dad, wait... is this okay?' she asked, voice quivering, hands hovering as if to cover herself but dropping instead, willing to let him lead.
'It's more than okay, sweetheart. Trust me.' He knelt between her legs, the water lapping at his chest. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wider, exposing her fully—pink folds glistening, clit peeking from its hood. Mina's breath hitched, a mix of embarrassment and excitement flushing her skin.
He leaned in, inhaling her musky scent, then pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh. She jolted, fingers gripping the tub's rim. 'Oh... Dad...' Slowly, he trailed kisses upward, tongue flicking out to taste her skin, inching toward her core. When his mouth finally covered her pussy, lips sealing around her clit, Mina cried out, back arching.
He sucked gently at first, tongue circling the sensitive nub, savoring her sweetness. Her juices coated his lips, tangy and fresh, as he lapped at her slit, delving inside to probe her entrance. Mina's shyness melted into moans, her hips bucking tentatively against his face. 'That... feels so strange... but good,' she panted, one hand threading into his wet hair, not pulling away but exploring the sensation.
Encouraged, he ate her out with fervor, tongue thrusting deep into her tight channel, then flattening to lick broad strokes over her clit. His fingers joined, one sliding along her folds to circle her hole before pushing inside, curling to hit that spongy spot. Mina's walls clenched around the intrusion, her body trembling as pleasure built. She watched through half-lidded eyes, fascinated and aroused by the sight of her father's head buried between her legs, his cheeks hollowing as he devoured her.
'Please... don't stop,' she begged softly, her free hand cupping her own breast, pinching the nipple as he'd done earlier. Waves of heat coiled in her belly, unfamiliar but intoxicating. He added a second finger, stretching her, pumping in rhythm with his tongue's assault on her clit. Her thighs quivered, pressing against his ears, and soon she shattered—pussy spasming, flooding his mouth with her release as she keened, 'Dad! Yes!'
He licked her through the aftershocks, cleaning every drop until she slumped, breathless and dazed. Pulling back, his face shone with her essence, cock throbbing painfully hard. 'You taste incredible, Mina. My beautiful girl.'
She looked at him with wide, post-orgasmic eyes, shyness returning but tempered by a newfound boldness. 'I... I want to feel you inside me now. Please?'
He stood, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist. The water made their skin slick; he positioned his cock at her entrance, the bulbous head nudging her soaked folds. 'Are you sure?' he asked, giving her an out, but she nodded eagerly, arms around his neck.
With a slow thrust, he sank into her, her pussy gripping him like a vice, still fluttering from her climax. Mina gasped at the fullness, brows furrowing in a mix of discomfort and delight. 'It's so big... Dad...' He paused, letting her adjust, then began to move—deep, measured strokes that filled her completely.
She clung to him, nails digging into his back as he fucked her steadily, water splashing with each plunge. Her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples dragging across his skin. 'Harder... I can take it,' she whispered, exploring the edge of pain and pleasure, her hips rolling to meet him.
He gripped her ass, fingers kneading the firm cheeks, one digit teasing her puckered hole as he pounded faster. His balls slapped against her with wet smacks, cock pistoning in and out of her dripping pussy. Mina's second orgasm crested quickly, her walls milking him as she sobbed in ecstasy, biting his shoulder.
'Cum for me again, baby,' he growled, thrusting erratically now. She did, her release triggering his—cock swelling, then erupting, hot spurts of cum painting her insides, overflowing to mix with the bathwater.
They collapsed together, panting, his softening length still buried in her. Mina nuzzled his neck, a shy smile breaking through. 'I love you, Dad. More than ever.' He kissed her forehead, knowing this taboo exploration had bound them deeper, promising more intimate discoveries ahead.
It's a lazy Saturday morning, and I'm deep into my PC game, the glow of the screen lighting up my room as I mash buttons, trying to level up my character. The door creaks open without a knock, and there she is—Chaeyoung, my sister from Twice, looking flustered with her cheeks already pink. We've never gotten along great, always bickering over stupid stuff, but when push comes to shove, we look out for each other. No questions asked.
She hovers in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized hoodie. 'Hey... can you help me with something?' Her voice is small, not her usual sassy tone.
I pause the game, spinning my chair to face her. 'What now? Borrow money for more makeup?'
'No, idiot. It's... serious. Pull something out for me.' She crosses her arms, avoiding my eyes.
I blink, confused. 'Pull what out? Like a splinter?'
She sighs, stepping inside and shutting the door. 'Don't laugh, okay? Promise.' Her face turns even redder. 'I was... cleaning my pussy, and the tool I used got stuck inside. It's still there.'
I burst out laughing before I can stop myself, the absurdity hitting me. Chaeyoung with something jammed in her pussy? 'Wait, you're pranking me, right? This is some weird Twice initiation thing?'
Her eyes widen, and she stomps her foot. 'It's not a prank! It hurts, and I can't get it out myself.'
I wipe my eyes, still chuckling but seeing the panic in her expression. She's not joking. 'Okay, fine. Why not go to the hospital? Pros handle that stuff.'
She shakes her head furiously. 'Are you crazy? If paparazzi catch wind, it'll be all over the news. 'Idol Chaeyoung's embarrassing ER visit.' No way. You're family. You have to help.'
My heart races a bit—nervous as hell, but there's this twisted excitement bubbling under the surface. I shove those thoughts down deep; she's my sister, and I care about her, even if we fight like cats and dogs. 'Alright, alright. Lay down on the bed. Let's see what we're dealing with.'
She hesitates, then nods, kicking off her slippers and climbing onto my unmade bed, lying back with her legs pressed together. 'Turn off the lights first.'
I reach for the switch but pause. 'How am I supposed to see the damn thing if it's dark?'
Chaeyoung buries her face in her hands. 'Just... do it. I'm embarrassed enough. I don't want you staring at my pussy like that.' Her voice muffles, but I can hear the vulnerability there, mixed with that reluctant trust we share.
I flick the light switch off, plunging the room into dimness, the only glow coming from my paused PC screen in the corner. It's not pitch black—enough shadows to make out shapes, but her details are softened, which I guess is what she wants. My pulse hammers in my ears as I approach the bed, the air thick with unspoken awkwardness. Chaeyoung's lying there, knees bent slightly, her hoodie riding up just enough to show the edge of her shorts. She's breathing shallow, eyes squeezed shut like she's bracing for judgment.
'Okay, uh... spread your legs a bit,' I mutter, my voice rougher than I intend. She whimpers softly but complies, parting her thighs with a reluctant shift. In the low light, I can make out the outline of her shorts clinging to her hips, the fabric damp in spots—probably from whatever mess she's in. I kneel at the edge of the bed, hands hovering, unsure where to start. 'What exactly is this 'tool'? Like, a vibrator or something?'
She groans, covering her face again. 'Just... a handle from a makeup brush. Slim, but the end got wedged. Please, don't make me say more.' Her voice cracks, embarrassment radiating off her like heat.
I nod, even though she can't see it, and grab the nearest thing on my desk—a ballpoint pen, the kind with a smooth, rounded cap. It's not ideal, but better than nothing while I figure this out. My fingers tremble as I tug her shorts down gently, exposing her bare pussy to the cool room air. She's completely shaved, lips puffy and glistening, a faint sheen of arousal or sweat making her folds shine faintly in the PC glow. The brush handle peeks out just a fraction, lodged between her inner walls, her clit peeking swollen above it. My throat tightens—nerves and that forbidden thrill warring inside me. I care about her, damn it; this is just helping.
'Tell me if it hurts,' I say, clicking the pen cap off for a better grip. I press the tip lightly against the exposed end of the handle, trying to hook it out. Her pussy clenches immediately, a visible twitch rippling through her labia as she gasps. The muscles flutter, sucking the handle deeper for a split second before relaxing. 'Shit, it's gripping tight.'
'Oh god,' she moans, hips bucking involuntarily. 'That... tickles weird. Try again.' Her voice is breathy, thighs quivering as she fights to stay still. I push the pen tip firmer, rotating it to catch the edge, but her inner walls spasm around the intrusion, the handle slipping further in with a wet squelch. Her pussy lips part slightly, revealing the slick pink inside, contracting in rhythmic pulses that make my cock stir against my pants. I swallow hard, focusing on the task, but the heat from her core radiates onto my hand, her scent—musky and sweet—filling my nose.
Another try: I angle the pen better, sliding it alongside the handle to lever it free. Her entrance twitches wildly now, folds fluttering like they're alive, a fresh trickle of wetness seeping out and coating my knuckles. Chaeyoung's breath hitches into a whine, her hands fisting the sheets. 'Nngh... it's moving, but... deeper. Feels so full.' Her body betrays her words, hips tilting up toward my touch, chasing the pressure despite the embarrassment. The tension coils in the air, electric—my excitement mirroring her involuntary responses, but I shove it down, reminding myself this is necessity, not desire.
The pen slips, useless against the slickness, and I pull back, frustrated. 'This isn't working. Too blunt.' My mind races to the next option, heart pounding as I wipe my hand on my jeans. Her pussy still throbs visibly, entrance winking open and closed in aftershocks, begging for something more precise.
'Use your finger,' she whispers, so quiet I almost miss it. Her cheeks burn even in the dark, but there's a needy edge to her tone now, the secrecy amplifying everything. I hesitate, the line blurring, but she needs this. I care—have to.
I slick my index finger with spit, then trace her outer lips first, feeling the heat and the way she shudders. Her pussy responds instantly, twitching toward my touch, labia swelling fuller under the contact. 'Like this?' I ask, voice low, as I circle the handle's base, probing gently.
'Y-yes,' she breathes, legs spreading wider on their own. I slide my finger in alongside the handle, her walls clamping down hot and velvety around both. The twitch is intense—her pussy muscles ripple in waves, squeezing my digit in a vise that makes me grit my teeth. Wetness floods out, easing the way, but also heightening every sensation: the slick slide, the pulse of her inner ridges gripping and releasing. I curl my finger, hooking the handle's end, and pull slowly. She cries out, back arching, her clit throbbing visibly as another spasm rocks her core, juices dripping down to her ass.
It's fighting me, her body turned on by the invasion despite—or because of—the taboo. My own arousal throbs painfully, but I focus, twisting my finger deeper. The handle inches out, her pussy fluttering erratically, contractions milking my skin like it's trying to pull me in further. 'Almost... hold on,' I grunt, sweat beading on my forehead from the effort and the charged atmosphere.
With a final, firm tug, the handle pops free, slick and glistening, leaving her entrance gaping slightly, twitching in relief and lingering need. Chaeyoung collapses back, panting, her pussy still quivering with aftershocks, folds slick and flushed. I stare for a beat too long, the sight burned into my mind, before tossing the tool aside and pulling her shorts back up gently.
'You okay?' I ask, voice hoarse, turning the light back on dimly to check her face.
She nods, avoiding my eyes, but a small, grateful smile tugs at her lips. 'Yeah... thanks. Don't tell anyone.' The tension lingers, unspoken, but in that moment, our sibling bond feels a little less strained—forged in this weird, intimate secret.
Kim Dahyun stepped through the front door of her family home, the exhaustion from the world tour melting away as the familiar scent of her childhood wrapped around her. At 24, she was the radiant center of Twice, but here, she was just Dahyun—eager for a quiet night in her own space. Her birthday loomed in a few days, but she had no idea about the surprise her father had meticulously prepared in her room upstairs. Balloons floated silently against the ceiling, a cake sat hidden in the mini-fridge he'd installed just for this, and soft lights twinkled from strings he'd draped across the walls. He wanted it perfect for his little girl, a celebration of her return and her special day.
Dahyun kicked off her shoes in the hallway, her tight black dress clinging to her slender frame like a second skin. The fabric hugged her small breasts, accentuating the gentle curve of her hips, and rode up just enough to tease the smooth skin of her thighs. Tour life had been non-stop—performances, interviews, the constant eyes on her—but now, alone at last, a familiar heat stirred low in her belly. She padded up the stairs, her bare feet silent on the carpet, humming a melody from their latest setlist.
Her father, Mr. Kim, had heard the door click open from his spot in the adjacent study. He'd finished the setup earlier that afternoon, heart swelling with pride for his daughter. Slipping into the shadows of her walk-in closet, door cracked just enough, he waited to spring the surprise when she entered. But as Dahyun pushed open her bedroom door, the room's festive glow caught her eye. She paused, a smile tugging at her lips, but the weight of the tour's pent-up desires hit her harder than expected. The bed looked so inviting, sheets fresh and crisp, and without a second thought, she crossed to it, letting the door swing mostly shut behind her.
Dahyun sank onto the edge of the mattress, her tight dress bunching up around her waist as she leaned back on her elbows. The surprise decorations flickered softly, but her mind wandered elsewhere—to the thrill of the stage, the anonymous fantasies that had kept her up on those long bus rides. Her hand trailed down her neck, fingers brushing over the thin strap of her dress before dipping lower. She tugged the neckline down, exposing one pert breast, her nipple hardening instantly in the cool air. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pinched it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it firmly.
From his hiding spot, her father froze, breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected this—not his sweet Dahyun, so bold and unfiltered in her own sanctuary. The closet door offered a perfect, unobstructed view through the slight gap, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. She was beautiful, his daughter, her pale skin glowing under the string lights, the tight dress now a rumpled invitation around her hips.
Emboldened by solitude, Dahyun spread her legs wider, the dress hiking up to reveal her black lace panties. She hooked her fingers into the waistband and slid them down her thighs, kicking them aside with a flick of her foot. Her pussy was already slick, lips puffy and pink from the building ache. She traced a finger along her slit, gathering the wetness there, then brought it to her mouth, sucking it clean with a quiet moan. The taste of herself fueled the fire, and she delved back in, circling her clit with deliberate strokes.
Her father's cock twitched in his pants, straining against the fabric as he watched her hips buck slightly off the bed. He knew he should reveal himself, shout surprise and shatter the moment, but the sight held him captive. Dahyun's free hand kneaded her exposed breast, twisting the nipple harder now, while her other hand plunged two fingers inside her tight pussy, pumping them in and out with wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room.
Dahyun's breaths came faster, her head falling back against the pillows, blonde hair splaying out like a halo. 'Fuck,' she whispered to the empty room, her voice husky from disuse. She added a third finger, stretching herself, imagining it was something thicker, someone filling her completely. Her thumb pressed down on her clit, rubbing in tight circles as her walls clenched around her fingers. Juices coated her hand, dripping onto the sheets below.
Hidden, her father palmed his erection through his jeans, guilt warring with the raw lust surging through him. She'd grown into such a woman—confident, sensual, her body arching in pleasure he never dreamed he'd witness. He bit his lip to stay silent, eyes locked on the way her pussy lips parted around her thrusting fingers, her moans growing louder, more desperate.
Dahyun's pace quickened, her thighs trembling as she chased release. She pinched her nipple sharply, the sting sending sparks straight to her core. 'Yes... oh god, yes,' she gasped, fingers curling inside to hit that sensitive spot. Her orgasm built like a wave, crashing over her suddenly—her pussy spasming, gushing a little as she cried out, body shuddering on the bed. She rode it out, fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out every aftershock until she slumped, spent and glowing.
In the closet, her father stifled a groan, his own release soaking his underwear as he came untouched, the taboo thrill overwhelming him. Dahyun lay there catching her breath, oblivious, a satisfied smile on her face amid the birthday surprises waiting to be unveiled. The night was young, and secrets lingered in the air.
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