It's wild to think about, but today marks a year's time since I released "Drive" and dove back into writing. Funnily enough, it's also been just over 5 years since I stopped updating my first ever story, which began in March of 2019 and ended in late October of the same year.
I wrote & published over 75,000 words between October 2023 & March 2024 to varying degrees of quality and personal satisfaction. Two of those stories still remain public, while the third has been made private due to my own personal dissatisfaction with the finished product.
Over the past 7 months or so, things have been less than ideal, and while I wish that there could be more finished products to share with you all, I'd be lying if I said I've been in the right mindset to produce work that's up to my personal standards. However, that isn't to say that there hasn't been incredible work produced during that time. More on that in a second.
I personally don't view myself as a particularly creative person. Writing is very difficult for me to find success in (especially compared to other interests), but I enjoy the process of learning and growth. Thus, a significant amount of my time over the past half decade or so has been spent researching techniques, learning how to improve the quality of my work, and compiling those lessons into notes for my own future reference.
So, I'd like to take this opportunity to share that knowledge with anyone that might find it helpful. Contained within are archives of my external writing related research, saved passages from my favorite works produced by the community, and a bit of a peek behind the curtain into my older works & the planning that goes into a standard project of mine.
External Resource Archives My findings from many, many hours of research and note-taking from external sources such as professional authors,
If nothing else, I hope you choose to look through the community quote archives and join me in celebrating the incredible content featured within. These are only small fragments of the wonderful work put together by @capslocked , @kooyabooya , @majorblinks , @iznsfw , @jeneveuxrein , @yieldtotemptation , and so many others who have blessed us with their awe-inspiring talent. There's plenty of other content that I haven't gotten around to including quite yet, but I have every intention of keeping this updated moving forward, so keep an eye out for even more magnificent inclusions in the near future.
I hope anyone who decides to check it out enjoys their time doing so and finds a bit of inspiration or helpful information within. Thank you so much to the over one thousand people who have chosen to follow this blog and thank you very much to everyone who's chosen to spend your time reading my work!
Fromis App Part 16: Deserved Better - Fromis_9 Chaeyoung
You're cuddling Saerom in bed while she's on her phone, and you hear her sigh against you.
"What's wrong?"
"Chaeng needs more funding, there's less kids now, so the daycare needs additional budget to stay afloat."
"Chaeng? Who's that? You have a daycare?"
"Chaeyoung, you met her, at the... discipline session? You've been in and out of our office so often. And yes we offer a daycare for our employees if they need them. We charge a small but cheap fee, so it's usually a little under break even, but recently there's fewer kids, so she needs more funding from us."
"Huh, I didn't know that. Chaeyoung's the tall one right?" Saerom nods. "I didn't know she ran the daycare."
"She really likes being around kids, so when the previous nanny left we offered her the role."
"I see, how come I haven't seen her around the office?"
"The daycare's in a different part of the building, gotta keep the noisy kids away from the offices. You can go see her if you want!"
A few days later with Saerom's instructions on your phone you enter the Fromis building but take a left, down a hallway you've never gone to before. As you reach close to the end of the hallway you hear childish giggling, the hallway walls going from office standard drab grey to child-friendly yellow and blue.
"Everybody, what do you say?"
"Thank you Miss Lee, goodbye Miss Lee!" A chorus calls out. You step aside to let the horde of children pass by. Chaeyoung smiles at each of them before finally seeing you.
"Oh, hello! We haven't spoken since umm, that." She blushes, remembering the last time she met you, a whirlwind of sex with some of the other employees involved.
"Yeah, just wanted to say hi. I never saw you at the offices and Saerom just told me why."
"Oh yeah that's true! Well it's just this little space, I can show you around but there's not much to see." You look around at the messy scatter of chairs and papers and crayons and decide on a better idea.
"If you don't have class soon, want to grab a coffee?"
"Thank you..." Chaeyoung smiles and takes a sip from the coffee you brought her.
"You know, I feel like I don't know anything about you."
"Really? I know everything about you though. Seoyeon's very happy with you."
"You mean— She talks to you about, umm, me and her?"
"Not just her, we have a group chat. Just because I'm not in the office doesn't mean I'm not in the know." A small smirk appears on her lips.
"Now I'm curious, you never reached out, or matched with me on the app. I don't think I'm that bad in the bedroom so... boyfriend?"
"The girls assure me you're not, so you don't have to worry about that. And no, not boyfriend." She pauses and takes a sip of her coffee, giving you time to process her words.
"Girlfriend?"
"No, or at least, none that haven't slept with you too. It's all casual between us." You raise an eyebrow but she says nothing more.
"Illness?"
"If you mean STDs, I'm definitely clean. And nothing else that would prevent us— I mean me, from doing it."
"So you are thinking about 'us', hmm." Chaeyoung drinks more of her coffee and doesn't offer more. "Really won't tell me?"
"No, and I assure you it's not for any physical reasons."
"Now I'm really curious. How about we do dinner, my treat?"
"As long as you don't expect anything afterwards." You agree, now more curious than ever—for whatever reason Chaeyoung's being very standoffish, yet she's blushing right now, and she has clearly been thinking about using the FROMIS app for some time with you, yet she hasn't.
"Tonight then?"
"Sure."
Later that evening, Chaeyoung's quietly nibbling on her pasta, seemingly to wait for you to finally broach the question you've avoided thus far.
"So, mind telling me the reason?"
"Sure. The reason I haven't reached out is because I didn't want to take your time away from the others, happy?"
"I... Have no idea what you mean?"
"I see the others having sex with you as a way of making them happy, keeping them stress free. They are more important than me to the company, so it is more important that you're spending time with them than with me."
"That's a very objective look at things."
"I have a stake in the company too, so I have to look at things that way."
"But I think you're taking too short-term a view. Because of the good job you're doing, the parents of the kids you're taking care of, the many employees of the company, they can do their work without worrying about them, they do a better job because of you! So, I think you are just as important as the others." You place a hand over Chaeyoung's, half-seduction and half-earnestness, wanting her to see her own value.
"You have needs too, and they deserve to be... Met." The flush is instantly apparent on her face—god, when was the last time she was touched like that?
"I said not to expect anything afterwards!" Chaeyoung mumbles, withdrawing her hand.
"I'm not. I just don't want you to feel like you're any less important than the others, okay?"
"I... Thanks."
"We won't do anything tonight, but you're my priority, I will block out whatever time you need when you want to." You grab Chaeyoung's hand again, kissing the back of it smoothly—a little cheesy perhaps, but you gather she liked it from the way she pulled away, blushing even harder.
"I umm, thanks. I should go, I have to get in early tomorrow."
"Of course, I'll see you home."
"No it's okay, I'll be fine." Chaeyoung grabs her bag and quickly hurries out. Later that night her legs are spread, hand between her thighs as she muffles her whimpers. Truth be told if you had seen her home, Chaeyoung would not have let you gone home that night. She would have pulled you in and—
"Nngh fuck!" She rubs her clit and moans into her hand. Even just thinking about your last time with her, where you and Seoyeon edged Chaeyoung until she was begging to for sweet blackout release, is enough to push her to a much stronger orgasm than her usual self-satisfaction sessions. Her hips buck against her hand, pushing against the imaginary you that should be pressed against her cunt. When she relaxes she looks at her own fingers—they're wetter than they've been recently. All of her talk about letting the others have you just makes her all the more needy the moment you make yourself available. You said that'd you prioritize her over everyone else...
"Ah!" Chaeyoung shudders as she touches herself again, one hand on her chest and another dipping past her flat tummy—is she actually going for a second round? She spreads her legs wider, biting her pillow to keep quiet.
"O-Oppa!" Tonight was going to be a sleepless night for Chaeyoung.
You don't hear from Chaeyoung for a week or so, but you do run into her as she's leading her class of kids back to the classroom.
"Chaeyoung!"
"Oh hey, what are you doing here?"
"Came to pick up Jiwon. You?"
"We just had a field trip to the nearby museum."
"Nice, nice." A little kid tugs on your pant leg.
"Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"
"Uhh what?"
"I have a mommy and she has a daddy. Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"
"Oh god..." Chaeyoung mutters under her breath. "No no, he's just a friend, like you have friends too, right? Come on, back to the classroom you go, go follow your friends, they're leaving without you!" She ushers the kid back hastily.
"Sorry, they only know mommy and daddy right now. Husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, still a while to go for that."
"No need to be sorry, they're just kids being kids. Good to see you!"
"Mmhmm, bye!"
You're on Jiwon's floor when you receive a message.
*I want you time tonight, please come over after dropping Jiwon off*
You smile at the typo she missed.
*Of course, I'll drop Jiwon off and come right over*
With a bit of cajoling and consoling you promise to make time for Jiwon next time, and she begrudgingly lets you go.
"Are you going there to fuck her? Be honest." she asks bluntly.
"Probably?"
"Good, fuck her hard, I don't think she's swiped on anyone at all, girl needs to properly get off. I'll let Saerom know Chaeyoung's taking tomorrow off, I want you to fuck her until she can't function properly."
"Who takes care of the kids then?"
"Eh, we'll find someone, that's not for you to worry about!" Jiwon pushes you out the door. "Now go before I change my mind and drag you back in here." You listen to Jiwon and bolt.
"Hey, I'm here," you call out, knocking on the door. It swings open to reveal a gorgeous Chaeyoung, dressed in a strapless black dress and stockings.
"Whoa, going somewhere?"
"Ah umm, no, not really. Come in." You sit down in her cozy apartment.
"You seem like you're dressed to go clubbing, do you want me to go with you to one?"
"Ah about that..." There's a metallic twang as she picks at the tab of her can for a moment. "If I asked, you would go to the club with me, dance a little, have a drink or two, and then end up either back here or at your place?"
"You are assuming a lot, but yes, I'm all yours for the night." Chaeyoung scoots closer to you, a dainty hand rubbing down your thigh and to your knee. In the stunning outfit she looked nothing like the pretty and kind teacher that plays with her children you saw just a little earlier. Now she's pressed against you, breath warm on your ear and neck, like a woman that had her needs, and she wanted them met now.
"I was thinking we could save a lot of time and just skip to the fun part."
"I like that, more time for the fun part." You turn to look at Chaeyoung, and her eyes are already shut, lips lightly parted. You should've answered "Definitely" to Jiwon's question earlier, because when you capture Chaeyoung's bottom lip she whines, a "Why haven't you stuck your tongue down my throat" kind of whine. You correct yourself immediately, capturing her lips a second time and pushing your tongue past them, earning yourself a moan, a promise that Chaeyoung's going to do everything she wants to with you tonight.
You cup her face to kiss her more deeply, but she's grabbing your hand and bringing it down to her chest. It's modest but still a fun handful, made even more fun by the reaction you elicit from her, a whimper when you grind your palm into her dress, massaging a breast roughly.
"Mmm, more!" You give Chaeyoung what she wants, switching to the other breast, wrinkling her dress a little more. You tilt her head back with your other hand, opening up the flawless skin of her neck to you. You're unapologetic in your kisses, sucking and leaving marks on her pale skin, marks that would be oblivious to her childish charges, but prompt many questions from their parents.
Chaeyoung moans loudly, your lips no longer there to suppress her moans—she's already overstimulated, the physical connection with you already too much. She clings to the back your head, pushing you harder against her neck. Short as it was, her dress suddenly felt restrictive, the heat between her legs growing by the second.
"G-Go lower!" Her hand guides yours down, but you stop at her hip, grabbing her and swinging her legs across your lap. With her arms around your neck Chaeyoung's looking at you needily, gasping as you run a hand across her flat midriff, pretending to go straight between her legs before bringing it back up to squeeze a breast.
"Nngh no!" She kisses you before begging with a whisper. "Please don't tease me like last time, I can't take it right now."
"I'm not teasing you. I know you want to cum." Chaeyoung shivers at the word "cum", as if just saying the word has an effect on her. "You deserve to cum hard, I'll get you there." Her eyes are glued to your hand as you bring it back down her body and under her dress. She tenses against you, bracing for your touch against her pussy, but it doesn't come.
Not yet at least. Chaeyoung whimpers when your hand brushes the inside of her thighs, and as soon as she traps you between them she moans—you've sunk your fingers into her flesh, pushing them apart again. You dance across the smoothness of her thighs, teasing her with squeezes, as if giving her a light massage on them. Her hands drifts to your collar, wanting to pull you in for a kiss, but you resist, watching her purse and then bite on her lips as you brush a finger over her panties, pressing against the soaked fabric lightly.
"Oh..." Chaeyoung sighs, moaning and resigning herself to her fate as you "scratch" against her wet spot repeatedly, the motion giving her just enough friction to feel you there, but not enough for her to build towards an orgasm.
"You said you wouldn't— GOD!" Chaeyoung yelps at the end, her voice cracking a little as you press firmly against her wetness, swiping over where you think her clit would be through her panties. Her hands dig into your neck, and she's trembling in your arms. You debated making one more swipe, but at this rate she's due to blow as soon as you do that. You deposit her on the edge of the couch, and before she realizes it you've buried your head underneath her dress, slightly stretching it before her thighs quickly close around you, pressing against your cheeks.
"Huh? Ah!" Slightly dazed from your tease she's confused as to where you went. She sees the slight bulge between her legs, but she doesn't put two and two together until it's too late. Nothing prepares Chaeyoung for the lightning bolt of pleasure when you lick her pussy directly, her head snapping back as she let's out a loud cry.
You barely hear her, but you definitely feel her response, her thighs pressing on you head firmly. Chaeyoung's on the edge but you're not ready to push her over yet, sucking on the left lip and then the right, spreading her pussy with your mouth. She smacks your head not too softly, and you have to grab her hands to stop her from wrecking your head from all angles. Her fingers dig into your palm, and she's twisting left and right, her legs hooked around your neck, trying to get you to properly eat her. She's liable to snap your head off at this rate with how hard she's thrashing—you'll have to finish her off first!
You plunge your tongue deep into Chaeyoung, hands holding her hips down. She instantly goes still, before everything begins. Above you Chaeyoung grunts, core tensing as the feeling of your tongue inside her goes straight to her head.
"God, fucking FUCK!" Unbecoming of a childcare teacher Chaeyeoung swears and screams in pleasure, back arching as she explodes. Her world breaks into a billion brilliant pieces, moans loud and unrestrained bursting from her as she grabs on to you over the dress.
Underneath her dress you barely hear any of it, courtesy of her thighs crushing your ears and your singular focus on making Chaeyoung cum harder than she's ever had before. All you hear is the rubbing of her thighs around your ears, the dress rustling against the couch cushion, and the wet squelch of Chaeyoung squirting. It starts with a small spray, and you catch it with your face. Her pussy contracts around your tongue, and she is sweet and salty on your tastebuds with more slick. You capture her clit with your lips, swirling your tongue over it, and her heels dig into your back, pushing her butt off the couch.
"Hnngh!" Chaeyoung howls into a couch pillow, feeling your hands on her ass lift her pussy to your face. It feels so good but she needs even more! Without even being aware of it Chaeyoung pushes herself higher on you, thighs now resting on your shoulders, legs twisting to lock you in.
"Mmph!" Your surprised moan is muffled by Chaeyoung—she has the core strength to lurch herself closer to you, making sure you bury your face in her. Every little touch makes her squirt now—kiss her pussy, squirt; a single lick, squirt; you exhale against her warmth, squirt; your nose brushes against her clit, squirt. You bury your tongue in her, upper lip nudging her clit, and Chaeyoung gushing all over your face—all you hear is the splash of fluids, her thighs still trembling and muffling your ears. When she finally goes slack and releases your head, by volume there's probably more of Lee Chaeyoung on your face than there is on her couch.
You manage to extricate yourself, and when you take your first look at Chaeyoung in a while you're proud of your work—she looks absolutely shattered, a dopey smile on her face and a pink flush washing over her, like she's had a few drinks at the club she didn't go to. She puts her hands out for you, and when you get close she grabs you, face dripping with her juices and all, and kisses you fervently.
"That was amazing. But I want more, I deserve more, don't I?"
"Yes, but you should take a breather, grab some water—"
"No, I want it now!" She pulls you to the bedroom unsteadily, and you watch Chaeyoung peel off the dress as you remove your own clothes.
"Sorry about your shirt."
"Sorry about your dress." Both are soaked in her slick.
"I'll manage."
"So will I then." Chaeyoung kicks her panties off and you're immediately on top of her, already naked and ready to go.
"Wait, sorry, can we change the position?" You get off her, but she shakes her head. "No, just like this." She takes you by your hands, and she draws it under her legs, making you hook her knees. She continues pulling your hands up, making you lean over her. She keesp raising your hands until they're by her head, and her ankles are by your ears.
"F-Fuck me like this," Chaeyoung mumbles, unable to meet your eyes—she's put herself in a mating press. She lets out a gasp when you enter her, her wetness allowing you to get all the way in right away. "Ah, so deep!"
"You like that?"
"Yeah, mm!" You pull back before delivering a solid thump against her hips. "Yes, just like that!" Chaeyoung gasps as you start pounding down into her, all of your weight translating into pure pleasure for her—no matter how hard she fucks herself with a dildo, there's no way she could ever reproduce this feeling! All those nights where she was alone, knowing that you might be with Saerom, or Nagyung, or Jiwon, or someone else, and she drills away at herself—now she's the one you're with! She doesn't need to sneak a peek at each of them coming into the building, wondering who was the lucky one that got pounded into a barely noticeable limp, or who looked either peppier (Hayoung, Jisun) or sleepier (Seoyeon) the next morning. It's all about her tonight, and she's going to let herself enjoy it to the fullest extent.
"Deeper!" She cries, hands grabbing your arms, feeling them flex underneath her. Chaeyoung flutters her eyes, biting her lower lip—anything to entice you further. "Harder, do it harder!" You put a hand on her lower back, bringing her up to you a little, and you slam down.
"Yes! That's it daddy!"
"Daddy?" Chaeyoung opens her eyes in annoyance at your sudden stop, just before she processes what she just said and wishing she could close her eyes and will you away. She covers her own face with her hands, but you pull them away, watching her blush and squirm underneath you. "What did you say?"
"N-Nothing!" But you knew exactly what she said.
"Is that why you called me tonight?" You grind your tip deep inside her. "The kid asked, and you thought about me being your daddy?" She clenches around you. "And now you can't hold it in anymore?" You thought she would deny, maybe say something to deflect, and you'd have to fuck the answer out of her, but no, Chaeyoung's desperate, folding figuratively and literally as you press her legs further back.
"Y-Yes, I'm sorry! It just came out, ah!"
"I prefer oppa, but you can call me whatever you want."
"T-Thank you, mm! Thank you daddy!" After the first occurrence slipped out with no consequence, Chaeyoung's unraveling rapidly, replacing moans of your name with "daddy". She tightens up every time she says it too, causing you to grunt in appreciation.
"God, so fucking tight!"
"Only for you daddy, only tight for you!" Chaeyoung wails. You had known that she was subby, letting you and Seoyeon tease and edge her endlessly, but this is a whole new level. She's pulling you in for a kiss, allowing her legs to be pushed further apart and back, whimpering as you strike her deep. "I'm so close, so close daddy!"
"Are you going to cum for me?"
"Yes, going to cum for you, tell me when!" With a slight grin you continue pounding down into her, staying silent even as you rub on her clit. Chaeyoung's eyes widen before they disappear into her head, closing tightly as she tries to stave off her climax. She wants to remind you that you're not supposed to tease her, but she can't piece the words together, letting a high pitched whine out instead, like she's boiling up from the inside. The clenching around your shaft becomes tighter and tighter—Chaeyoung's losing it, she won't be able to keep herself from cumming!
"D-Daddy!" she wails, sounding like a whistle.
"Cum for me now!" You stay deep in her and rub her clit rapidly, and Chaeyoung cries out in glorious release.
"Yes!" The words are choked out, and her flat tummy twitches—you feel it in the form of her pussy clenching around you, sucking you deep as you take in the sight. Chaeyoung's a young and pretty childcare provider, kind and caring. An ideal, if not perfect, if not too perfect, type for many perhaps, especially with her looks and figure.
"Hnnngh fuck!" Yet here she is, creaming herself all around your cock, getting the fucking that, in her own words, she deserves.
"That's it, cum as hard as you want, I'm here to give you everything you deserve." The pleasure roils and boils within Chaeyoung, and your lips on her neck, the subtle pump of your hips, the fingerpad on her nipple, it all brings her back to overflowing. She gulps and chokes on air, a small orgasm washing over her from that alone. When she finally stops trembling she finds herself sweating, her arms and legs tangling around you like a clingy vine.
"That was amazing daddy."
"Good, you deserve it." Chaeyoung pulls you in for a kiss, and thankfully she loosens up slightly around you—any more of her rhythmic, perhaps unwitting, tugs on your shaft, and you're close to losing it. You calm down a little, enjoying her warm caress, a satisfied lover glowing from the pleasure. She can finish you off later, but you were in no rush.
Chaeyoung has other plans though, she's not nearly as satisfied as you thought.
"But I think... I think I also deserve it from behind. And I also think I deserve your cum in me."
"What?"
"I want your cum in me, daddy." She's on all fours, and she grabs your shaft, pushing herself back on to you.
"Fuck are you sure?" She's even tighter from behind.
"Maybe I even deserve a baby from you."
"Chaeyoung!" You grip her hips to steady yourself. It's one thing to fuck her, it's another thing to breed her. And she's calling you "daddy", fuck.
"I like being around kids, why do you think Saerom offered the job to me? I asked for it. I want kids." Despite seemingly cockdrunk, grinding herself against your hips, you see that Chaeyoung's serious.
"Are you sure?"
"We're— I mean, I am, ready to have them. You're the only one I'm doing it with, so if it happens, great, if it doesn't, maybe in the future." She pushes herself up, pressing her back to your chest and wrapping her arms around your neck. "So we can have the talk later, but right now please just give me the breeding I deserve, daddy." You hips pull back and snap forward, like a rubber band releasing its energy, and Chaeyoung cries out happily.
"Just like that!"
"Is that what you want? Why you put yourself into a mating press, hoping I'd blow my load before I could do anything else?"
"I-I wanted you to cum in me twice daddy!"
"You didn't think I would last long enough?"
"No, I didn't mean— Nngh! I'm sorry!" You push Chaeyoung down on the bed and pin her there, hips humping down into her from above. You rub against her g-spot on each thrust, and she's screaming into the sheets, delighted at your "punishment".
"Fuck me daddy, please, cum in me!" You're slamming into her now, and when Chaeyoung buckles so do you, pressing down into her prone form and flooding her womb in an instant. Chaeyoung squeals into the kiss she finds herself in, her legs kicking, unable to handle the heat she's suddenly filled with. You grunt and groan, shoving yourself deeper with smaller thrusts, determined to drain yourself fully in her.
"Hnngh that's so deep!" One more spurt for good measure. With that you collapse on top of her, keeping yourself partially propped up to not completely crush her. It is a while before both your breaths stabilize, and you roll off her.
"Thanks oppa, that was everything I dreamed of, and more." You follow her eyes down, watching your load spill out of her. There was always an implicit understanding that Saerom and the other employees you had fun with took care of themselves, that they would ask you to use a condom otherwise, but for the first time ever Chaeyoung's making you question that.
"Chaeyoung, are you— Were you serious?"
"About kids? Yes. It's not a safe day, but it's also not that risky, there's a chance, and that's good enough for me."
"That's a huge decision, you should've—"
"There are big changes coming, we're all making big decisions, so— No, that's for Saerom unnie to break it to you." Chaeyoung shakes her head. "Sorry, just call it baby fever, thinking about 'daddy' just threw me for a loop." She kisses you in apology. "Don't worry, I won't make you take responsibility if—"
"No, that would be irresponsible of me. I just don't want you to make a rash decision while you're... not in the right state of mind."
"You mean needy and horny?" Chaeyoung asks as she cleans between her legs. "If I didn't want the risk, I would've just gotten myself off and called it a night, I have toys you know. So just enjoy yourself, I'm not worrying about it and I don't want you to be. I can stop with the breeding talk if you don't find it hot."
"Right, no umm, do what turns you on. If you want to call me names and think about being reckless in bed, I'll meet you halfway."
"Well when you put it like that, it sounds so... hot." Chaeyoung's rubbing her neck, feeling warm all over again. "But no, I'm too drained, let's just take a shower and hit the bed?"
"You want me to stay over?"
"Please?" She pouts, and you don't have it in you to say no. After she insists that you shower first rather than together ("I'm going to jump you if you get hard again."), you're dozing off as Chaeyoung curls up behind you, spooning you as she falls asleep against your back.
You're jolted awake by the sound of a cupboard door closing.
"Oh, sorry!" Chaeyoung's dressed in a form-fitting black swimsuit, leaving nothing to the imagination, highlighting her stunning curves.
"Going somewhere?"
"Oh, Saerom messaged me, told me to enjoy my day off? So I was going to go swimming in the morning instead!"
"Hmm, sorry, I can't let you do that." You wrap your hand around her waist, pulling her back to bed. "That's on me, I didn't do a good job."
"Didn't do a good job?"
"So Jiwon is the one who asked Saerom for a day off for you, because I ditched her for you."
"What? Oh no, I know I shouldn't have asked you to come over yesterday, I feel so bad!"
"No no, you deserved all of it." You run a hand under her top, and Chaeyoung's blushing pink at your forwardness. "One of the conditions that Jiwon let me go last night was that I fuck you until you can't function, and she asked Saerom to give you the day off because of that."
"So you failed, here I am... functioning, aren't I? Maybe I should message Jiwon, let her know that you failed, what would she do then?"
"We'll never know." You pull Chaeyoung against you, and she's melting by the second. "I plan to occupy you, sorry, I mean keep you occupied, for the rest of the day." Chaeyoung gasps at the thought, of you "occupying" her for the rest of the day. "Maybe you won't be able to function for about, I don't know, nine months?" Chaeyoung gasps again, growing warm in your arms. She said she was fine with just having a chance at a baby yesterday, but with how wet she instantly got she knows she's wrong—she needs to be bred, specifically by you.
"A-Are you going to, daddy? I won't tell Jiwon if you do." You respond by peeling off her swimsuit as she pulls you out of your boxers, and having never got up from the bed since you woke up, you're sliding back into Chaeyoung.
"I will if you get so tight and wet everytime."
"O-Only for you, only you can give me what I deserve!" You lift her leg, letting it dangle over your hips, and you're easily bottoming out in Chaeyoung again. "You're going to give me a good workout today aren't you? You're— Oh god, working me over so deep!"
"Yes, it's the perfect workout, we can lie in bed while getting the workout you need... And you'll get your fill all the same!"
"YES!" Chaeyoung cries out as both of you cum quickly—there's no need to last long when you're going to be fucking her plenty today, and the moment you cum, her orgasm is triggered as her body tries to milk you for every drop. As you slowly calm down from you climax you spy her closet full of clothes.
"Are those all your outfits?"
"Yeah, most of them, for work, going out, exercise, shopping."
"You have an outfit to go shopping?"
"Yeah, you know, easy to take off, so I can try on other clothes?"
"You could've stopped at 'easy to take off', go put it on." Chaeyoung's a little puzzled, but she goes over and puts it on. "Good?"
"Yeah." She's pushed against the closet door, and in an instant you've unbuttoned her jeans and pushed into her again. "Hnngh! What?"
"Cum for me." An eager finger on her clit and Chaeyoung's whining into your ear, sucking on your neck and leaving a hickey as she clenches around you.
"Next outfit. You deserve to get fucked in every one of them, I'd cum in you while you're wearing each of them if I could, just so you remember me as soon as you're not naked."
"W-What about when I'm naked?" Chaeyoung asks in a daze, still coming down from her orgasm.
"You won't have to remember, because I'll be there." She shivers against you, as if the thought alone gave her pleasure. She steadies herself and grabs the next outfit. Chaeyoung finds herself whirled around, bent over the bed. The air is cool on the back of her thighs as her skirt is swept up—
"Ughhh yes!"
Chaeyoung gasps as her oversized sweater is pulled over her head and her bike shorts pulled down. She can feel herself leaking cum from the previous load, staining the fabric. Your tongue and lips on her nipples make her leak more, but not before your fingers are shoved in her, trying to keep the cum in.
"J-Just put more into me!" she manages to moan out.
Chaeyoung's bent over her desk, her work blouse fluttering open—you're on top of her, coming down from your own orgasm and breathing heavily. The only reason that your load dripping from her isn't heard is because her discarded trousers are catching all of it.
"Wear this tomorrow," you mumble, tugging on her blouse.
"Hmm?! I can't, there's lipstick marks all over it!" The collar is pink from when Chaeyoung bit into it, trying to muffle her scream earlier. Your fingers delve into her, scooping up some of your load and rubbing it into the pink spots, as if that would make it clean. It just makes things smell, smell of you.
"Wear it tomorrow," you order as you place your fingers by her lips, asking her to clean them.
"Y-Yes daddy."
Chaeyoung's on the dining table, tiny boy shorts pulled to the side and your cock keeping it there. Her entire body is flushed pink, warm not only from the dishes that were just on the table a moment ago, but also from the pounding you're giving her right now, making her spill slick over the edge of the table and on to the floor.
"You deserve your dessert, don't you?"
"Yes!" Chaeyoung's pulling on her hair, and thrashing about, knocking over a cup of water.
"Good, here's your cream."
Now everything's spilling over the table edge.
In another world Chaeyoung could've been an idol, putting on different outfits for photoshoots, looking prettier than ever, each shot made to appear absolutely perfect. That Chaeyoung may have wondered if the studio would look like her apartment right now, clothes strewn everywhere, the tops and bottoms hanging on her frame for but a second, the time it takes to make a pose, before they're pulled off and replaced with another; Maybe she would have wondered if photoshoots would be tiring, having to change her outfits and poses constantly.
This Chaeyoung is not capable of wondering, carried and pulled and tossed and finally, fucked on every surface. Her mind's mushy, she's picking up random clothing off the ground, mixing and matching—she doesn't even remember which ones she has worn already for you. Splattered randomly on her clothes are fluids of some description—a mix of her squirt and your cum. She's going to have to do one big load of laundry after you leave.
Speaking of big loads, you've left several in her, and as you fuck Chaeyoung in front of the mirror, the sinful schoolgirl outfit she has on, coupled with her utterly blissed out expression as she braces against the mirror frame, is going to make sure that this last load will last her nine months.
"God you deserve everything I have left don't you?" You growl, arms hooking under her shoulders, pulling her back and keeping her upright.
"Y-Yes, give it, please!" Chaeyoung's barely coherent, you think Jiwon will be properly satisfied if you took a picture of how Chaeyoung looked right now.
"You won't be able to wear these outfits again... This midriff? Gone." Chaeyoung's eyes are gone as well, rolling into her head, and she let's out a long, drawn out moan as you fill her womb one last time, cumming with you and eager to fully drain you and finally get some rest. She lets out a rasp, as if choking, as if she can't hold all the cum in her. She sobs, and a little bit of it leaks out from around your shaft—she's completely full! When you finish firing she sighs happily, going limp in your arms—you're the only thing keeping her up now, and you know she's out of commission, content and bred.
You put her down on the bed, and she pulls you in, pouting for a cuddle. Chaeyoung reaches for her phone, and the two of you laugh at Jiwon's messages.
*Yah, you better not see this message!*
*If the "1" disappears early I'll know!*
Chaeyoung types out a quick message.
*We finished, you should reward oppa with whatever he wants*
*Oh we will! Saerom's gonna tell him soon*
"We? What's this about Saerom, you mentioned her just now too."
"Don't worry about that, it will all be fine." Puzzled, you kiss Chaeyoung all the same—she deserves that much at least.
A/N: Well, got it out just in timeish (not really lol), but this is likely the penultimate chapter to FROMIS app. There'll be one more with the other members, hopefully it'll be soonish. Chaeng has always struck me as the super kind, super nice member, she cares a lot for them, so I wrote that in a little. Hope you like this one, have a happy 2025, and fuck pledis, WE FUCKING GO. Thanks for reading!
Describing something as a "'Why haven't you stuck your tongue down my throat' type of whine is absolutely fucking mental and the bit about fucking her in each of her different outfits so she thinks about you making her cum in each one is legitimately one of the most unique ideas I've seen in a fic in a long time. I adore this series so much and have so so so much appreciation for the time put into it.
Hi, a fan of your writing and also ypur feed as you recommend some of the best written content.
Could you recommend some of the older works that you feel are good amd must ne read. Thanks.
I am so fucking sorry for getting to this two and a half months after you sent this, but I wanna take this chance to recommend a couple fics that people solely on tumblr might not have had the chance to experience:
(These two are quite long but so so so worth it)
let me hear your thoughts (Aespa Karina x Winter) by seung_wann on AFF | Adorable slice of life slowburn AU that I couldn't recommend more
Fox Bread (Aespa Karina x Winter) by Chaos_T on AFF | Kitsune / gumiho Karina AU with baker Winter, also adorable
(These are on the shorter side & also incredible)
Needy ((G)I-DLE Minnie x Miyeon) by beneaththemask on AFF | Short but sweet fluff & angst smut
i think i'm going to vomit (fromis_9 Jisun x Jiwon) by siyeonists on AO3 | Adorable little wonsun oneshot
god lives in your grip (Aespa Giselle x Ningning) by sleepyshiba on AO3 | Ning² sugar baby to rich mf Giselle smut where they totally don't catch feelings, they swear
Two drinks in, and this isn’t your finest moment. It’s not like you’re too shy to approach a girl at the bar, or embarrassed, but—
“What’s the worst thing that happens? She tells you to fuck off?"
"Well yeah—exactly that.”
“So what? You get rejected, order another drink, and then you try again. If you don’t, then you have someone hot to take home and put your dick in.” A frustrated sigh later, and then you hear a thud against the bar counter, as your companion slams her drink down. You look over to see Xiaoting call over the bartender with a wave of her hand, as if she’s the one that needs a stiff drink more than you do.
“She's even your type. If you don't go over there and say something to her, then I will," Xiaoting huffs, reaching over to yank the fruity drink out right from between your fingers to steal a sip.
"Please, as if you know who my type is."
"She's a woman, and she’s pretty. That's your type,” she returns, a slight chuckle escaping as she sips on her own drink, eyeing you down with hopes to encourage you to get off your ass.
"I don't even know what to say. Hi, you're cute. Let me buy you a drink? That sounds all so generic, doesn't it?"
"Exactly that," Xiaoting replies. "It's not that difficult.” And with a sudden push, you find yourself stumbling into the open, caught in your own thoughts. This girl—she’s gorgeous. Even from a distance, she stands out in this white little dress that beckons you, makes your heart beat a little faster with how well it hugs her body. A cute face with that figure, it’s a sinful combination.
Well, here goes nothing.
You nearly stumble over your own two feet when you approach cautiously, incredulous to the fact that Xiaoting’s powers of persuasion are responsible for this—but you can't disappoint now. The odds seem to be in your favor: she's alone, nursing a glass of something dark and murky and barely touched, so this seems as good an opening as any.
"H-hi, I—" you stutter out before any full words can escape you, barely managing to utter a single syllable before your confidence breaks. Your words stick in your throat as the girl looks up, away from her phone for a brief glance, eyes curious. And already you feel like an idiot.
"Hi there," she says, wearing this warm smile across her lips, and the fact that she hasn't already told you to fuck off nearly has you in a panic. Yet you have no follow through, with half a mind to turn around and walk right through the exit, but you can’t with how your legs feel glued in place.
"Can I uh…"
In that brief moment, you've completely forgotten how words work. This is all so embarrassing, you don't know why you let Xiaoting convince you in the first place. You could be at home, catching up on favorite shows in your favorite pajamas—yet, you're stuck in this fancy venue, about to make an ass of yourself.
"Buy me a drink?" she finishes for you, taking pity on the fact you can't find your bearings. "Sure. As long as you have one, too.”
That goes way better than expected—you already had one foot in the opposite direction prepared to make a quick getaway. You take a seat beside her with a small victory, a quick glance back at Xiaoting who offers a silent thumbs up in the dim light from a distance, which is enough confidence to fill your entire body and get the ball rolling.
"My name's Yeseo," the girl introduces, taking a slow sip from her glass. "Saw you staring at me from across the bar.. was wondering when you would come over and introduce yourself. “
"Sorry I just—couldn't take my eyes off of you."
You want to vomit.
Of all the things you could have said, that sounds like the worst possible outcome. You curse under your breath, and nearly down your drink in one go, hoping this alcohol makes its way through your system as fast as possible.
"Don't be," Yeseo replies with a smile. "You're cute. Glad your friend convinced you to talk to me."
"Ah, was it that obvious?"
She nods, leaning forward to swirl the remains of her glass, the clink loud enough to distract you. "Noticed you staring from a mile away. Most guys come up to hit on me the moment they see me, with some shitty pickup line and a bad attitude. But not you. You hesitated. Which means you don't do this that often..."
"You got me. I'm terrible at this, in case you didn't notice already."
“Honestly," Yeseo starts. "It's cute. A welcome change from all the creepy guys who think I'll fuck them the second I talk to them."
You stare into your drink for a moment, hoping a bit more courage starts to manifest to drown the nerves. Yeseo, she's beyond pretty, absolutely the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn bar—the least you can do is treat her with respect.
"So," Yeseo says, as the bartender comes to slide you both new drinks. "You've bought me a drink. Now tell me something about yourself. Anything at all."
Her demeanor is confident, composed—while you can barely handle looking directly into those eyes without feeling flustered. Your mind has already become a blur of indecision, so you blurt the first thing to cross your mind.
"Just moved here for work a few months ago. Don't really know too many people. I met Xiaoting at a coffee shop and she showed me around the city, and somehow, she dragged me to come here for a night out."
"XIaoting? Your friend over there?"
You just nod.
"Good for her. Drinking's fun," Yeseo says and takes a long, careful sip of her glass, crossing one bare leg over the other, as if that was enough to prove her point. "Probably the best thing to do in this city."
"Have you been here a while, then?"
"A year or two," she muses. "Moved out here to do some modeling, but it doesn't exactly pay the bills. Had to resort to doing some side gigs just to cover the rest.”
"Side gigs?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow.
"You know. A little erotic photography.” Yeseo sips at her drink, so nonchalant and casually. “The kind that satisfies people's fantasies for the right price."
Oh.
You freeze mid-sip at the curveball you’ve been thrown, as you attempt not to choke on your own drink, unsure if you heard her correctly.
"Do you wanna see some examples? I can show you." Yeseo pulls her phone out before you can even answer, tapping a few times before sliding the phone over, as if she has no sense of discretion whatsoever to share these with an almost complete stranger.
What you see on that small screen is tamer than expected, but nonetheless—you’re taken aback.
Yeseo's all dolled up, wearing sheer white lingerie, posed suggestively on a black leather couch, legs all spread out for the camera to see—possibly in the exact same heels she has on now. She scrolls through, presenting each picture for you with a simple swipe of her finger. Different outfits, different poses, increasing levels of nudity.
It's not until she gets near the end that the pictures leave little to the imagination, no clothes, only a suggestive stare, and strategic placement of objects blocking what matters most. By the time you return her phone, you’re jolted back to reality, the startling juxtaposition between these images and this cute, bright girl sitting right next to you.
"People pay a lot of money just for me to send those types of pics. Men mostly. Then they'll pay extra just for me to pretend I'm their girlfriend. It's kind of sad actually, but it pays well, and all I have to do is send pictures of my tits and pretend to be interested for a few hours."
"The camera doesn't really do you justice…" you say out of nowhere, and you can feel your face heating up when you finish that sentence, like you've found this modicum of courage.
"Well, thanks. Aren't you the sweetest thing?" There's something to that smile, the way Yeseo glances in your direction, those eyes so alluring, so damn beautiful. She runs her hand slowly through her long, dark hair, brushing it off to one side, before resting on the counter. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like. My apartment's not far."
You almost choke on your drink again.
Yeseo doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. The look in her eyes is completely irresistible, her gaze trapping you as she inches closer, making a quick move across the counter, a hand coming to rest on your knee.
She squeezes gently and you swallow nervously at Yeseo's not-so-subtle intentions, your mouth suddenly so dry that you chug the rest of your drink—savoring the way it burns on the way down. There's no hiding the flush across your face, the obvious redness around your cheeks. "Y-yeah, that sounds—"
"You don't sound so sure. Do you need your friend to come speak for you?" she teases, the tone of her voice shifting all cute and bubbly.
Xiaoting—you completely forget all about Xiaoting, turning your head in her direction, and she offers you a slight smile and a subtle, approving nod that keeps you going. "No, not at all. I'm fine."
"Oh? Good then. Do you wanna fuck me?" Yeseo asks blatantly, pushing her drink away and pulling herself just a smidge closer until her face is mere inches from your own.
You're not fine.
You nearly faint at those words, barely able to think clearly in such a short amount of time. But you pull yourself together to answer with conviction, to gather the strength to reply with some shred of dignity. "Of course I do."
Yeseo likes that answer, and the fact that you can look her in the eye this time. "Hmm, thought so. Will your friend be joining us?"
An answer doesn't quite form so fast this time—you shift nervously in your seat at the proposition, not expecting to take things any further.
“I’m kidding. I want you all to myself.”
With your head still spinning, Yeseo takes your hand and guides you out of the bar into the open air. You catch a passing glance of Xiaoting on your way out—wearing an expression full of excitement, like she knew this was all inevitable.
Your phone buzzes once you're in the backseat of the taxi, Yeseo sliding in beside you, a message lighting up the screen. But you can already guess who it’s from before you even look.
Xiaoting (09:06 PM):
knew you had it in you
go get your dick wet, tiger
You send back a few hearts before silencing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.
“Come here," Yeseo says in your ear, and you listen, leaning over as she kisses you with those irresistible lips, more intoxicating than the liquor running through you. One more kiss leaves you drowning in lust, and god, the way she pulls you in and devours you in an instant—it's an easy prelude to what's coming, leaving you aching for more.
You melt right then, forgetting how to breathe for a split second, when her lips press deeper against yours. By the time you recover, she's halfway into your lap, straddled atop your thighs—a bold move considering you're still very much in the presence of a complete stranger. But that hardly bothers her when she shifts against you, kissing you again, and her hands aren't shy either, exploring wherever they please.
Those lips feel as soft and sweet as they look, and you can still taste the liquor on her breath when she kisses you, all aggressive and eager, each lingering for a bit longer, almost forgetting where the two of you are, until the car halts to a sudden stop.
You reluctantly part your lips from hers, catching your breath again, as she tucks a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back at her. “This is me. Come on.”
The interruption is torturous, and Yeseo lets out this devilish little smirk when she climbs off your lap and crawls out of the cab, her urgency only growing once you get inside the building. Within seconds, you've got her pinned against a wall in the lobby, hands all over the body of this petite girl you just met, and end up missing the elevator after getting lost in these lips.
You catch the next one, and the doors are still sliding shut when you press a feverish kiss to Yeseo's neck, already leaving marks on her flawless skin that are sure to show up within hours. One elevator ride, a long hallway all the way to the back, and not a single barrier can stand in your way when you’re at her front door, pressed against the surface while these desperate kisses get more heated, making out so shamelessly for everyone to see.
"Come in—come in so you can fuck me," Yeseo says all greedily between kisses, and she wrestles getting her key into the lock, something you're both laughing about.
"That’s the plan, isn’t it?” you say, fueled by alcohol and lust, and your words surprise the both of you. Yeseo swings the door wide, tossing her keys on a counter with barely enough time to kick her heels off before she jumps into your arms without any warning.
You carry her further in, the weight of her petite frame less of a burden and more a comfort as you look around at the unfamiliar territory of her apartment—a fairly nice space. The living area isn’t exactly sparse, but doesn't feel massive either. A few paintings hang on the cream-colored walls, fashion magazines littering her small coffee table, while an open laptop sits unattended on a sleek black sofa that looks surprisingly familiar. There’s a sweater resting on an armchair opposite the couch, along with a tall tripod standing beside that seems out of place at first, until you connect the dots.
But as Yeseo looks at you, you find this sudden indomitable spirit, the confidence to do absolutely anything. “Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” It’s the boldest thing you’ve said so far, but the effect is immediate.
“Fuck, say that again. About time you finally stopped being shy around me."
“Wanna get my tongue all over you—“
Yeseo bites her lip. She directs you to the couch, her lips never straying away for too long when you fall backwards against the cushions. And wasting no time, the laptop gets tossed aside as she plants herself in your lap again, with all the freedom to do so.
"Well, you gotta unwrap me first," Yeseo says, giggling, and takes your hands, letting them run the length of her tight body until you find the zipper at the back of her little dress. One tug is all it takes and that whole outfit is on the floor, in a heap, so easily revealing what's beneath.
In mere seconds, Yeseo sits there in nothing but lace panties, a bra that matches, and a smile—the exact same set of lingerie you saw in her pictures. A model indeed, that puts her photos to shame, this sinful body the perfect mix of feminine yet toned, and those perky breasts are a perfect handful when she unhooks the clasp of her bra with ease, letting it fall right by her forgotten dress.
The rest comes so easily—her panties drop with the same urgency, and you only catch a passing glimpse of her bare body until she falls atop the couch on her back, completely and utterly naked, offering herself to you like an exquisite feast. And so, the hunger kicks in, and this time, you make sure you don't even hesitate to indulge.
Within moments, you’re making up her body with kisses, a slow, long drag of your tongue along her flat stomach, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin. You continue upwards, paying ample attention to each breast, first one and then the other—nothing but little nips and teasing pecks until finally taking one hard nipple between your teeth, not afraid of giving just a little bit of pressure, to draw a long exhale from Yeseo.
Her fingers tangle in your hair and urge you even more, but your tongue already is flicking furiously while your other hand rolls her opposite nipple between your fingers, drawing out that little whine into a blissful moan. These cute little gasps, you love them as much as Yeseo loves her body being lavished with attention, the way your lips tease, the way your hands roam and explore, relishing the naked perfection laid out before your eyes.
“God, this feels good—wanna see what else your mouth can do." Yeseo reaches down and begins rubbing her clit in full circles, just in full view of you.
"Patience," you say, as if you have any left in you, but take the hint nonetheless and head south. And then she guides your head down between her legs, spreading them wide, so you can get the best fucking view in the world, no cameras necessary—that pretty pussy, all bare and dripping wet, so ready to be devoured.
When your mouth meets the inside of Yeseo's thighs—those perfect fucking thighs that are destined to be around your head, you take your sweet time exploring the creamy skin. From this position, it's all so visible, how wet she is, how those pink folds glisten, inviting you right in. And with those greedy fingers rubbing between, it's become even more apparent how desperate her body gets in response to your touch.
A few more wet kisses on her full thighs, and your tongue slides between those drenched folds, her arousal immediately flooding your mouth. Yeseo lets out a sharp gasp the second you taste her, with a sudden bite of her lip as she stifles a cry, hips bucking so desperately into your face. "Fuck—"
Yeseo has the sweetest taste that fills your mouth, and you want to drag this moment on forever. Your tongue teases, pushing inside and delving deep, exploring her pussy before you find her sensitive clit. She sounds so needy, that you can’t help but grant what she wants right away, circling around, flicking lazily against the swollen bud until you seal your lips around it, sucking hard.
“Shit, holy shit,” Yeseo cries out, falling apart so beautifully already. She can't stay still, writhing helplessly as the ecstasy slowly builds, the taste of heaven coating your lips. When you push two fingers inside her dripping core, curling and pumping while continuing the assault with your mouth—she just lets go, entirely, with a series of desperate whines, clutching tightly on to the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?”
"Dunno. Maybe because you taste so fucking good," you say, voice all muffled between the heavenly thighs that slowly close around your head, trapping you in their intoxicating softness. You need Yeseo to be absolutely convinced how divine she is when your fingers pull out, cleaning them off before replacing them with your tongue, plunging all the way inside her wetness.
"And to think," Yeseo pants, as she pushes your head deeper into her cunt. "You could barely fucking talk to me. Now look at you, eating my pussy—so fucking well. Not too shy to bury your head between my legs."
That's enough praise for you to make sure you deliver, to keep giving Yeseo what she wants, lapping away at her delicious cunt, eager for every drop. This time, when she clamps her thighs harder around your head, you give all you've got, working her clit frantically, slurping so lewdly to make those moans tumble out.
Her taste is unforgettable, and you can’t help but be ravenous for more, tasting as much of Yeseo as you can get your lips on, a never-ending feast that keeps those deliciously warm thighs squeezing your head. You keep a tight seal around her swollen clit, and a hand flat on her smooth stomach to pin her down—never letting up, witnessing how she crumbles, how she edges closer by the second.
"I'm close, fuck, so close," she says so desperately, eyes squeezed shut, holding your head steady to her core. You give her all these messy licks that leave her gasping, shallow breaths growing more frantic, eyes pleading, and with that one last swirl of your tongue, you take her right over the edge. "Fuck, oh god, shit, shit shit—"
It’s gorgeous, the way she shatters. Her whole body shudders, thighs quivering around your head so violently, so perfectly, as your mouth keeps all the pressure on her clit she needs, until Yeseo cums right on your face.
The pure bliss hits so hard that a surge of her delectable juices pours right into your mouth, a flood of endless sweetness, and it all tastes so fucking incredible. Yeseo keeps you right there between her legs for this burst of pleasure to linger, lips parted, crying out in broken moans, riding it all out with all these messy flicks of your tongue that draw more nectar into your mouth.
Her release is all over your face by the time she's done, and you're licking her through the whole thing. But your hunger isn’t satiated so easily, dragging through her sopping wet folds, sucking frantically on her clit, until Yeseo has to shove your mouth away—unable to take any more.
That intoxicating sweetness clings to your tongue, and you lick your lips to savor every morsel. When you glance up into Yeseo's eyes, she's still shaking, out of breath, chest heaving, blushing hard, trying to come down from the intensity.
"Can't talk to a girl at a bar, but you can make her cum like that?" Yeseo asks between gasps, struggling to recover, still riding the euphoric high after such a satisfying finish. "You are full of surprises."
You don't say much, more interested in kissing the creamy, flushed skin of her thighs, licking up whatever delicious nectar that you can clean up as her breathing starts to get under control. But the longer you lay there, just kissing, softly caressing her naked body, the more that need for your own pleasure starts to rise, reminding you how painful and neglected your erection is—straining against the confines of your pants.
You need to be inside Yeseo.
As you brazenly stare at her legs spread wide, this gorgeous exhibit of her glistening slit dripping with arousal, you tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. There's not a drop of discretion when Yeseo's eyes land on your bare chest, watching every movement, not even offering to help, gaze slowly lowering when she catches sight of how tented the fabric of your pants has become.
"Those need to come off, immediately," Yeseo demands, licking her lips.
"Working on it, give me a second—” you say, reaching for the belt around your waist, fiddling with the buckle, trying so desperately not to lose eye contact as Yeseo stares hungrily into your eyes. And the moment your pants and boxers finally come off, freeing your rigid cock—she's practically drooling.
"Oh fuck, that’s gonna feel so good inside me," Yeseo gasps, as her eyes light up, and already she's guiding you to her inviting heat, her small hand making all these little pumps that get you nice and hard. She lets you do the rest—the anticipation agonizing when you grip your cock tightly, pushing against her wet entrance and looking at the approval in her eyes for a fleeting moment.
And then, those silky wet folds part, and you slide right into Yeseo.
All of this was worth the effort, when you hear moans escape from her lips, nothing but bliss written on her innocent little features.
"So damn tight—fuck," you moan, her cunt so goddamn wet and warm as her walls stretch wide around your length, accommodating the first few inches. It's unreal, the sensations you feel around your cock, the wet heat, the sheer tightness—and that's all before you've even started to move.
“Fucking give it to me. Pound me, I know you want to," is all Yeseo says when you take hold of her slender waist, your fingertips pressing firmly into her perfect skin, all eager to pound into her pretty little pussy.
The invitation is too enticing, and you snap your hips, a shallow thrust at first, to get yourself accustomed to this smothering heat as she settles into the stretch. These walls covered in slick, they choke your cock from the first pump, her pussy so hot and deliciously tight around your length that it’s a struggle to not drive everything in all at once.
You want to revel in how good Yeseo feels—how good this tight fucking pussy swallows you up and might never let go. Little by little, your hips gain momentum, until each plunge gets easier and easier, building gradually to a punishing rhythm that drives needy, unstoppable moans past her lips, gasping louder each time you sink deeper.
“So good, feels so fucking good,” she says, every plunge eliciting a flood of juices between her folds that coats every inch of your cock in her delectable wetness.
You fall victim to those eyes when they meet your own, looking back at you, dark and pretty, lips parted. Without pause, Yeseo watches your cock thrust into her, taking in every inch inside her dripping folds, the delicate features you’ve drawn to paint such a sinful picture, eyes widened as she takes each delicious thrust, not able to hide her craving for more.
"Keep doing that—you feel so fucking perfect inside me," Yeseo says, soft pleads in between breaths, biting her bottom lip hard, walls clenching harshly every time her heavenly cunt gets filled by your entire length. "Oh god, give me that fucking cock—"
You're gripping her body so possessively, fingers digging hard into her flesh, pulling her down with each thrust as your cock pounds away into that tight hole. There’s no wasted motion when you meet her demands, and you get so goddamn deep, bottoming out with ease, before pulling your slick cock out enough until only the very tip remains—then you slam back in harder than before without another word.
"H-harder," Yeseo whimpers, begging for all you can give, desperate to keep you buried inside her dripping core. Her eyes nearly roll back at the addicting stretch that draws out all these pitiful noises, your hips working overtime to satisfy her needs.
Those perfect, perky tits bounce in unison with every forceful thrust, each rock of your hips into her slender frame growing more frantic, until you’re pounding mercilessly into that tight cunt. “Shit, this perfect little cunt—it feels so goddamn good, baby." And you can’t help the overwhelming feeling whenever you bottom out in Yeseo, sinking your length balls deep, again and again, that cute face all contorted in bliss when the rhythm picks up, and god, she just feels unbelievable—
"You're so fucking deep inside me," she tells you in this raspy, desperate voice as you get lost in how her tight cunt squeezes your throbbing cock. "Harder, fuck me harder, wanna feel all of you, wanna fucking cream on your big fucking cock. Pound my little pussy like I know you can.”
Your hips can’t help but oblige these depraved words, burying yourself to the hilt whenever you pull out—leaving a wet, messy slap of flesh when you sink back in.
At this point, you're basically fucking her into the couch like you’ve lost all restraint, thrusting into her hot cunt with a relentless, unforgiving pace, and still she asks for more, demands it even. You're addicted to these sensations, the needy cries she spills out when you get in so deep, the warmth of her slick pussy demanding every inch—taking it all without so much as a struggle.
"Fuck, that's perfect—don't stop," she urges, clenching down on you while her wet warm walls quiver, urging you to shove the full length of your hard length deep inside her cunt. Nothing’s going to stop you, not now, not ever, not when your cock is surrounded by all this warmth, these unforgiving clenches to keep your momentum going, pleading for your cock to fill this girl’s perfect pussy like it belongs there.
“Yeseo, fuck—you feel so incredible, love my cock in this pretty little cunt,” you groan, slamming yourself as deeply inside as you can, drawing out all these noises from Yeseo, desperate and greedy—each one driving you madder with need.
"Keep that up, tell me how good it feels to fuck me—tell me.”
You can hardly hear the words through her ragged breaths, her voice coming out so strained the longer you fuck her without respite. And you just can’t look away from how her cute, innocent features have turned into anything but drowning in lust while you thrust into her greedy little pussy with all your might.
"Shit, you feel so fucking good, baby—I love your tight fucking cunt, makes my cock feel so fucking amazing when I’m balls fucking deep inside you.” The words fall out before you can even think, because the thought of being anywhere other than this slippery warmth is out of the question.
The most sinful type of bliss you can indulge in, ramming into Yeseo’s warm little cunt this hard and this deep, watching how her small frame gets rocked, these relentless thrusts that you can’t keep up for long as you look into her pretty eyes, unable to do much but surrender to the pleasure.
“Don't stop, just a little longer—"Yeseo swings her legs around your waist, wrapping tightly around your body as if you'll even think about stopping. The way she's all coiled up gives you no other option than to piston your hips, drilling her deeper into the couch.
And then Yeseo cums all over you, eyes shut, head tilted back as she clenches so tight around your cock you're almost right there with her, struggling to hold yourself back. Because this girl feels impossibly tight when she squeezes your length, spilling all this wetness that threatens to force you out were it not for the way her legs keep you trapped.
"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me until you cum,” Yeseo murmurs, as her body still shakes with every pump of your hips, legs wrapping tighter to demand your cock stay inside.
"W-wait—"
"No, inside," she demands again, locking her arms around your neck, and there's no way out of this when she clings so tightly, no chance for you to do anything but empty inside her greedy little cunt. "Cum inside, please. You've earned it."
Yeseo looks right at you, that lecherous gaze you'll never be able to defy as your hips obey, until her cunt squeezes you just the right way—and then you fucking explode, unloading so deep inside her in heavy bursts. You spill everything, nowhere to empty but right into her tight pussy, a huge, thick load, one shot after another firing out of your cock.
It seems endless, the way you throb inside, flooding her cunt as Yeseo takes every thick spurt, milking you for everything you can give until your balls are completely drained and that hot cum has filled her completely.
"Yeseo, fuck…" you mutter, mind a jumbled mess as you try to remember what to call her, the girl whose name you've known all of an hour or so before you've fucked your load into her. All the tension flees your body at once, but your cock, however, doesn’t escape, because her arms and legs refuse to release.
You stay buried, hard and throbbing, long after your high has run out, until the last drop is claimed. Only then, does Yeseo loosen up her limbs, slowly letting the lock around your waist ease off, and it's over far sooner than you'd like. “Now aren't you glad you bought me that drink?"
All you can manage is this tired laugh and a sigh of relief as you collapse on her naked body, kissing at her sweaty neck with whatever energy is leftover. Yeseo, likewise, shows no signs of urgency, as you rest together to regain some strength. "Hold on…"
There's some rustling when she reaches for her handbag on the floor and grabs something from inside. When you're too weak to stay inside her warmth, eventually you slide out with a groan, leaving a huge sticky white trail pouring from her pussy. Yeseo presents her camera, aiming between her legs and snaps a few pictures to capture how absolutely messy her cunt has become after being filled to the brim. "People will pay a lot for these. You don't mind, do you?"
"Not if you share them with me too," you answer, breathless, barely coherent.
Yeseo grins at you playfully, handing over her phone so you can key in your contact details, a vibration coming through your pants pocket soon after. And then she stands up, unabashedly naked—your cum leaking down her thighs so messily as it glistens under the lights.
"I should probably head home soon. Work in the morning, unfortunately.” Instant regret hits the moment such a poor excuse leaves your lips. Yeseo however, is much more interested in capturing this big mess you’ve left between her legs.
"You're not going to stay the night? It's already pretty late.”
"Don't exactly have anything to wear in the morning. Or even a toothbrush. I wasn't planning on getting so lucky tonight.”
"I have everything you need in the bathroom," she says, determined to keep you right where you are, like she’s planned for every imaginable outcome. "But you wouldn't need extra clothes if you called in sick tomorrow, would you?"
She’s unbelievable. Not that this offer isn’t tempting, because you could pass out right here on her naked body, and waking up next to a model, one that looks like Yeseo? There’s better than winning the lottery.
"It's not easy for me to call off work,” you say, intent on keeping up these lame excuses regardless of what you actually want, which is right underneath you. “We're behind on a project and I've got some important meetings tomorrow morning…"
Yeseo remains unconvinced.
"Maybe a nice, hot shower with me will change your mind? At least clean up a bit before you decide..." she's already reaching for your hand, leading the way to the bathroom—despite the fact that you haven't said anything yet. A dangerous proposition, because you know if you step one foot inside the shower, you won't be walking away from her tonight. But maybe work can wait, and maybe you've worked enough overtime this week, because you suddenly feel a little under the weather.
Now that you’ve seen Yeseo’s naked figure under the hot running water, there’s no going back.
Once you've toweled off and shaken off some of that exhaustion, you're still naked, sitting on Yeseo's bed after a quick tour of her bedroom that doubles as a photo studio.
She makes a compelling argument lazily bobbing her head between your legs—as if you need more convincing with her mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, you've got her phone in your hands to distract you, with full access to a more explicit folder of photos she claims are for your eyes only.
When you scroll through, there's several shots of Yeseo playing with her tits, fingers shoved in her tiny little cunt for the camera, and a few of her riding a huge, fleshy toy on these same sheets, spread out on all fours with a girthy plastic cock shoved right inside her.
"Shit, Yeseo—” It’s a response to both what's on your screen, and also the warm mouth slobbering on your cock as you flip through more of her work. She lets you slip out for a brief moment, and you nearly whine, but it doesn't last long, licking at your shaft, using her hand to pump all that spit into every inch.
"This is what I do when I'm not at modeling gigs. Fuck myself on these toys my clients buy me, or take pictures of my body—you wouldn't believe what people will pay just for feet pics."
"Feet pics?"
"Among other things. But those are pretty popular requests." Yeseo shrugs a bit. She gets back to work on that mouthful of cock, while you continue to scroll through her gallery of depravity, more shots of her tits, more focused shots of her wet, pink pussy, and the aforementioned feet pics, a dozen different colors of nail polish, wrapped up in nylons, stockings, thigh high socks—the options are endless.
"God, your mouth—it's fucking insane," you tell her as your thumb scrolls through the various images on her phone. "So you don't fuck any of the guys? Just talk to them for hours?"
And it's funny how you're holding a conversation through this blowjob that gets progressively messier, with obscene trails of saliva connecting Yeseo's wet, heavenly mouth to your stiff cock.
"I'm a model, not an escort service," Yeseo says, like it should be obvious. "I’ll do whatever they pay me for, within reason. Nothing weird, but that certainly hasn't stopped guys from asking. I usually dress up in costumes, or sexy lingerie and heels, and pose however they tell me to. Most men just want me to visualize their fantasies so they can jerk off to it as many times as they'd like."
"Sounds lucrative."
"It can be, but it's not a career,” Yeseo explains as she holds eye contact when the tip of her tongue presses right below your cockhead, giving the sensitive spot just the right amount of pressure. “Plus, I have to sort through a bunch of creeps with requests that I don't allow, especially when they're not offering to pay much. It can be very demanding, depending on the person."
Through this all, you let out another groan. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to remain in the conversation, glancing down to see her angelic features on your cock. Yeseo bobs her head on and on, so sloppily, messy and deliberate, letting her spit flow all down her chin when you look away to glance back at the screen.
"People have this wild fascination with cute and innocent looking girls. I sell these fantasies, their deepest and most perverse desires fulfilled. I become anything they want. A slutty schoolgirl, a cheating housewife, a co-worker they've wanted to rail for ages. They pay me for my time and my body—I'm just the illusion they've created."
When your cock hits the back of her throat, you tense up, nearly dropping the one thing that's keeping your focus divided. Yeseo gives a slow, easy glide back to the tip before engulfing your entire cock, throat squeezing every inch of your sensitive length as she slurps hard enough to get your full attention.
But that’s when you find something even better than all those pics—it's a video, and it's taken from the shower, a perfect shot of Yeseo taking an oversized toy into her ass, inching further as she moans for the camera, spreading those cheeks for it all to go in. It nearly makes you forget about the wet kisses and tender licks on the delicate underside of your shaft, keeping your eyes to the screen, captivated.
"Ah, you found those, didn't you?" she chuckles, but she doesn't stop sucking at your shaft, dipping her mouth low to bring in your heavy balls that have filled up far too easily into her mouth.
"That ass—you've got a really nice ass, Yeseo," you admit in all honesty, your attention once again torn between the screen and how messy she's getting with her mouth on your swollen balls. Yeseo keeps playing with them, giving a nice squeeze, as she drools so heavily over each one and, this perfect fondle, massaging away while the video keeps playing.
"Yeah?" she asks after slurping hard, releasing your balls with this lewd, messy pop, drenched with a layer of spit as she gives another squeeze for good measure, moving right back to stroking your cock. "Those videos are more popular than almost anything else. My ass is kind of the moneymaker and some guys are more than willing to pay an obscene amount for a toy in my ass."
“Can’t blame them...” You’re throbbing heavily in her grip, not sure if it's the pleasure or that you've moved on to the next video, where Yeseo has the tip of a vibrator teasing her asshole. And then the toy gets pressed inside slowly, stretching her wider while you try to stifle a groan, until there's so much of it disappearing.
"We can try that if you’d like. Do you wanna do that to me?" she asks, and you're so entranced by the screen that you don't even process her words.
"No—ah, what?" you say, mindlessly distracted, setting her phone down on the sheets, bringing your full attention to Yeseo.
"That video. We can recreate it. Not with the toy, but with your cock."
Your face blazes red at that admission—unable to wrap your mind around how she looks all too innocent while proposing the most sinful things.
"I’m asking—if you wanna put your cock up my ass? You said you liked it." Yeseo can see you blush as you try not to meet her eyes, but she won't leave it be, pressing for an answer.
"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do."
"Good, because you can,“ she tells you, getting up off her knees to reach into a drawer by her bed, digging up a half full bottle of lube that she tosses it toward you. “Here. Use this." Yeseo turns right around and eases into your lap, giving you a beautiful view of her perfect, plump ass that she pushes right up against your crotch, your cock nestled perfectly between.
You don't do anything besides stare, unable to get past the way those pale cheeks perfectly press up against the full length of your stiff shaft. Then Yeseo pushes back again, making the offer clearer.
"Come on, open me up," she purrs, grinding those soft, supple cheeks against your cock slowly, a nice not-so-subtle way you get the hint. "Your cock, my ass. That’s where it really belongs. Get right inside my asshole.”
Your hand goes for the bottle of lube that she’s just retrieved from the bedside, but you don't uncap it yet, as you watch Yeseo rub that perfect ass along your erection. "Wait. Got a better idea."
Her head tilts, confused about what could be possibly better than this offer put on the table. But this girl’s body, the body of a literal model, you want to savor it all. With an ass like that, how could you not? You want to get even closer to appreciate it, pulling Yeseo onto the bed, hoping she gets the message. At first, she keeps this questioning look on her face—but when she figures out where you're headed with this, her expression brightens.
She shuffles around to follow where you guide her, getting on all fours while facing the headboard, so that delicious ass raises toward you, those delectable curves all at your disposal.
"Perfect,” you say to yourself, voice trailing off as you grab at her waist and position her just the way you'd like, admiring her full body on display, and fuck, that ass is unreal.
And then you stuff your face right in those cheeks. Yeseo laughs in delight, wiggling around just for your sake, making sure every inch is captured by your attention. You get two large handfuls—spreading her ass wide so you can have an unobstructed view, and that's when you dive right in and dip your tongue inside her puckered hole.
A sound of pure filth comes out of Yeseo right away, all broken and uninhibited. "Oh my god—"
With Yeseo's approval, you keep the tip of your tongue swirling, flicking around, coating her asshole with as much drool as possible as she starts moaning uncontrollably at your immediate assault, trying to adjust to these intense sensations.
"And now you're eating my ass? You really are so full of surprises."
"Do you really expect me not to?" you question back, as your mouth gets entirely preoccupied by lapping at her tight hole, slurping greedily and teasing around. Your licks only get sloppier each time you dip your tongue in deeper, more focused on pleasing her than keeping any kind of composure, eating her ass without restraint.
She grinds up against your face to praise your work, and it's all the encouragement you need, a palm on either side of her ass, spreading her hole wide—your tongue practically fucking her, devouring her tight little asshole so ravenously, slipping further and further inside.
"F-fuck, baby, that tongue feels so good. Is this my reward for getting you to skip work?" Yeseo asks, half groan, half giggle as you work this sensitive area in ways that get the most obscene sounds pouring from her lips. She groans in absolute delight while your saliva flows freely down into her puckered hole, her cheeks surrounding your face, an absolute meal that has her scrambling for the bed sheets.
"I'll quit my job tomorrow if I get to eat this fucking ass every single day," you utter through sloppy licks and frantic slurps, words all muffled, not letting up in the slightest from licking Yeseo open. The whimpers that slip through, and these shallow, shaky breaths, that’s all you care about, when this tight ring of flesh clenches harshly against your probing tongue.
“Just wait till you have this ass milking you dry for everything that dick's got," Yeseo says, a promise with a loud sigh, falling apart under your attentive, merciless mouth as you greedily tonguefuck her asshole, holding her nice and still. You could just about take her up on that, but you haven’t quite had your fill—not yet.
So you keep those whimpers going, holding Yeseo in place as you continue to flick your tongue out in quick little strokes, licking her right where she's most sensitive. It's fucking perfect, how she helps spreads those asscheeks wide for you—like she can't get enough either, that twitching hole tightening each time it meets your tongue, tensing under your mouth, begging to stay filled.
"God, y-you're so good at that," she gasps, arching that cute ass up higher, holding herself open even further when it's clear there's more pleasure than she can keep up with. There's this urgency in her voice, so impatient and eager—it drives you absolutely wild.
But despite your selfish intentions to bury your tongue in Yeseo’s perfect ass forever, you can't ignore the persistent throbs your cock makes against the mattress—aching for relief, and you've got the perfect place for it to go.
When you pull back for air, you want nothing more than to shove your face back into those squishy cheeks—but the aching between your legs has other plans. You sit up on your knees, and admire all of Yeseo bent forward, presented like a meal, no question to where you're putting your stiff cock when you pop open that clear bottle.
Now you’re in for the main event, but you can't help but give her delectable ass a smack, both hands grabbing those thick asscheeks. You take your time to spread the slick liquid around her rear entrance, and it makes all the anticipation almost unbearable as you work a finger inside that tight ring of muscle. She eases up to swallow you in, letting you test the warm, snug tightness bound to accommodate your cock that’s going to feel like heaven.
"Fuck, your cock is going to stretch out my ass so much… so much better than that toy you saw me fucking." While you continue to prep her, Yeseo lets out the sweetest little sounds, relaxing almost instantly at your slick finger working its way inside, like she's done this more times than she can count.
"Yeah? Want me to ruin your pretty little asshole with this fucking cock?" And it's like her muscles know exactly what to do to hold you right in, hugging your digit, so you can barely contain yourself through this tight preview, thinking of how it'll feel clenching around your length.
“Do you even have to ask?”
Yeseo’s cute little smile when she looks back gets all the blood pumping toward your throbbing hardness as you stroke the lube into your shaft, getting yourself nice and slick before aiming yourself right between her asscheeks. "Don't you worry, I'm fucking you until you can't walk straight."
Then, there's nothing else to do but slide your cock into her slicked up, eager hole. Slowly at first, as Yeseo braces for it—her eyes demanding every inch when you ease into the delicious, tight heat of her ass.
“My fucking god, baby—this ass is so much tighter than I ever imagined," you groan with a sharp breath, clutching her shapely hips while you rest your cock fully sheathed inside, not daring to move. You're not even sure if you can pull back out, completely overwhelmed at just how intense this grip is, and when you look down to see it all disappear—god, it's maddening.
Nearly doubling over from pleasure, all rational thought gets driven out with that tight warmth gripping your cock so hard it steals your breath away.
"Are you going to fuck my ass or just stare at it?" Yeseo asks, and you're tempted to do the latter, but she jerks her body backward to jumpstart the whole thing. When you pull out in one fluid motion, you have to stop for a second to admire her slick little hole stretching around the thickness of your shaft, before you slam back into the hilt.
It takes little time for your cock to stretch that greedy asshole out as Yeseo welcomes in each thrust working her open, your hips making her cheeks jiggle when they meet. Looking back, she grins with bliss, a groan accompanying every pump as she adjusts to your size, inviting your cock into her ass with a perfect arch of her back. "Come on—show me how much you really love this ass, give me everything you’ve got.”
Just like that, your hips get rougher. Yeseo welcomes this stretch that stuffs her so full, deeper each time your shaft pounds into her tightest opening, lost in lust while she clutches at the sheets, nails digging in for dear life.
"There you go, baby, give me that fucking cock,“ she pleads with each snap of your hips, her ass crashing against you. So the rougher you get, the more she whines out for more—this sweet little innocent thing reduced to absolute sin, nothing but curses and groans leaving her parted lips.
And while you watch her delicious ass swallow up all that hard cock, you can't help but smack it, greedily grabbing a handful of flesh before letting your palm fly again, marking up both pale cheeks with these beautiful red handprints. Hard, repeatedly, every harsh impact jostles those reddened cheeks as she takes your rapid thrusts into that impossibly tight asshole, clenching around after each smack to the sore flesh.
"Make it hurt, make my ass fucking sting, please," she demands so desperately, and it only takes a few more harsh slaps to leave her completely incoherent.
You pound into Yeseo with such reckless abandon until your carnal desires take over. Those tender cheeks bounce hypnotically, the rhythm of your hips in sync with every single slap across the delicate flesh. “Baby—fuck, this ass feels incredible. Makes my cock feel so goddamn good.” You're relentless—not just because you can’t help yourself, but because she can’t stop letting out the most pathetic little whimpers that cry for more.
Your pace picks right up, so frantic, each slam deep enough to send those soft cheeks rippling, every last thrust filling her up so nicely. What’s even better is the beautiful red tint spreading across that backside, and the delicious sound of your palm hitting flesh—again, and again, and again.
"Ah—fuck, shit, right there, oh my fucking god—" It's impossible to stop looking at this wrecked little hole as Yeseo takes your dick without mercy, earning every bit of the relentless stretch she begs for. Your vigorous thrusts get you so worked up, that you pull out and spread that reddened ass just to savor the view, gaping so beautifully and desperate to get full again—
Yeseo practically sobs when you shove your hard cock all the way back in balls fucking deep, which makes her bite down on the sheets, as if there's anything that'll muffle her screams when you're fucking her this hard.
"So good, so fucking good, your cock is fucking perfect and I don't ever want it to leave my ass," Yeseo cries out into the mattress, not making the slightest attempt to remain composed anymore. The poor bed absorbs every creak and slam, the whole frame shaking under your forceful thrusts that threaten to collapse the whole thing.
And Yeseo is right there, telling you how fucking good your cock is, that small body all yours to use how you please. Without hesitation, you keep giving her what she wants, keep giving this tight little asshole the pummeling it deserves—just listening to the squeal in her voice as you pound her the way that she absolutely desires it.
So there's no reason to stop when she's clearly aching for more, unable to get enough of how easily your cock tears her to pieces with every single thrust. All she can do is brace for the next one when your shaft hits so fucking deep—and then you crash down all your weight on top of her tiny frame, pinning her flat against the bed. so your cock somehow plunges even deeper into her asshole.
“F-fuck!” You reach such depths Yeseo could never hit with any toy, and she takes it all, face down, with unwavering lust that powers the motions of your hips until it's a struggle for either of you to think straight.
"Baby, this ass—I'd ruin my whole fucking career for this ass," you pant out through uneven breaths, continuing the dizzying pace that has no right feeling this good, pumping into her with every last thing you’ve got until it all becomes a blur.
Yeseo, she’s clenching so fucking tight that each thrust might be your last, your hips every bit merciless, crashing against the soft flesh of her perfect ass to gather up the most desperate cries.
"Fuck, that’s just what I want, so deep inside me,“ she struggles to say, downright delirious, and you're not far off, unsure how much more you can take of this, your balls feeling so tight as you pound and pound into that warm hole. In fact, you can tell there's no sense in even holding it in at this point, gathering up that final bit of momentum, making every single thrust count before you feel that release boiling up—
At the last possible second you pull out, eyes focused intently on her ruined little asshole that gapes so perfectly before Yeseo follows you off the bed and onto the floor. She drops to her knees, back against the side of the mattress and stares expectantly, while you aim inches away toward her beautiful, sweat-covered face, furiously stroking.
Your hand tangles up in her hair, giving a hard tug that forces her chin up. It's not the pleasure that brings you closer to the brink, it's the sight of her doe-eyed stare, all this innocence and sin rolled together that begs for your load without saying a word.
Yeseo gazes up with her lips open, tongue lolling out, so beautifully obedient, waiting for you to unload. "Go on, baby—fucking explode all over this pretty fucking face," Yeseo urges, and it's the way she looks at you, that mesmerizing, seductive eye contact that you can’t take it any longer.
In an instant, your release hits, with all this built-up tension that just empties out with a huge shot of your load streaking across the bridge of her nose, coating those cute cheeks. Yeseo doesn't even flinch as it splatters across her features, hot and thick, all the way up to her forehead, eyes so bright with this lewd, shameless gaze as you glaze her.
You spill everything from your balls like you’ve gone weeks without release, groaning as you shoot more massive streaks everywhere, even some getting caught in her lashes. This thick trail drips down to her lips as she just opens her mouth and lets it fall onto her hungry little tongue, a taste she’s been dying for.
She’s never looked so good.
After the last drop hits her mouth, it's already dripping down her chin, this pretty, porcelain skin painted so vividly. Yeseo’s a gorgeous mess, and you keep these weak pumps going, pumping it all out to ensure she’s covered as can be before her tongue collects your load settling around her messy lips, returning back to that cum-stained smile.
"So fucking good, you taste even better than I thought.”
And then you nearly topple over when she sucks at the tip until you're cleaned off, making sure every drop is drained. Yeseo holds your hips to keep you still, lips tight around your sensitive cockhead, looking so goddamn gorgeous with your load all over that face.
“Jesus, fuck—“ you say, feeling lightheaded, the impact of your orgasm still hitting like a train. Yeseo just smiles through it all, such a perfect image that you'll never get out of your head.
The bed beside you has never looked so welcoming, and while you recover, you hear a click and shuffling next to you. But you know what it is by this point, a new set of pictures with Yeseo’s face fucking glazed, ready to be sent to whoever wants to pad her bank account.
"I feel like I should get a cut now," you say with a tired smile, trying to catch your breath.
"Pounding my ass like that wasn't payment enough?" Yeseo fires back, but her tone is all soft and sweet as she saunters over, so much energy left in that perfect body compared to your spent state. "It's not my fault you cum so much..."
"Isn't it exactly that? Weren't you begging me to cum inside you the first time?"
"I think I liked you better when you were shy." Yeseo sticks her tongue out and giggles, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. And take more pictures while I'm at it."
By the time Yeseo returns from the bathroom, you're about ready to pass out, having fallen onto the pillows in total exhaustion. When your eyes open back up, she's inches away from your face, looking all clean and barefaced. "Are you really falling asleep like that without me?"
"You wore me out."
"I did what?” she asks incredulously, head tilted in confusion. “You're the one who fucked me senseless. I can still feel how sore my ass is when I sit down..."
"Hey, you asked for that. Also like…twenty other things."
"Guilty. Guess I’m a little greedy.”
With a content sigh, Yeseo throws an arm and leg over, cuddling up right against you. You're too tired to even move, while this bubbly girl seems she could go the rest of the night. But maybe you're not entirely worn out as her perfect little body presses up against your chest, those sweet lips pouting, looking so irresistibly delicious. And before you fall asleep, you need to have just one more taste of those lips.
"No, I'm not!" you argue. "If I sneak over there, I can—"
CLANK!
A sudden bang silences your sorry excuse for hesitation as a shot glass appears in your line of sight and splashes liquor all over your arms.
“Apologies for the spillage,” Yeeun says to you. Her eyes tell an entirely different story as they roll: one of an identical exasperation that’s found in Yeoreum’s expression beside you. “A gift from the lovely lady at the end of the bar.”
You follow her gaze, eyes skipping along the bar stools until they reach the far side, where you hear hints of a giggle from the other side of the curtain of blonde they hide behind.
A sigh rips itself from your chest—not at Yeeun, mind you. Mostly at yourself, because you shouldn’t have assumed Yeonhee would let you host a party for the group without stirring up at least a bit of trouble. Then again, you didn’t expect her to put her plan into motion this early into the night.
“Ah, I see. Thanks, I guess.”
After another roll, Yeeun’s eyes turn to Yeoreum, capturing her in a conversation and leaving you entirely with no options other than to follow up on your gift. You rise, scoot in your stool, and walk around the countertop until you reach the end, where a certain someone awaits. “What are you doing, Yeonhee?”
The curtain parts as she flips her hair with a professional grace, revealing those twinkling eyes and slight smirk that refuse to ever leave your heart and mind. “Oh hey,” Yeonhee says, running a finger along the rim of her own shot glass. “You come here often?”
“This is literally my kitchen.” You remain standing, refusing to sink to her level and take the bait.
“So that’s a yes?”
You chuckle, you grimace, but most importantly, you cave. “Yes Yeonhee, I come here often.”
“Interesting …” she says, stretching the word out long enough that you almost believe her. “I would have guessed you’re the type who’d die without food delivery.”
“Hey!” you scoff, nose scrunching in indignation as you relent and pull up a stool beside her. “Who are you to talk when you’re constantly begging for me to make you midnight snacks?”
“Shush, not so loud,” Yeonhee murmurs, pulling you in closer as she leans in. “So … that means you know somewhere private we can go together?”
Her question tells you two things:
What exactly she’s trying to do with this little performance
That you chose a terrible time to try to take a drink of the drink she’d so kindly gotten for you
You fall into a fit of coughs as the burning liquid goes down the wrong pipe, leaving you gasping for air as everyone else in your apartment turns and grimaces at the sight. “Hey, you alright?”
A large hand slaps against your back, finally allowing you to inhale as Nana’s boyfriend looks at you with concern. You turn, still struggling to form words as you tell him, “Thanks, I—” but it gets cut off as another cough rips through you.
“Sorry, what was that?” he asks, leaning in closer.
You grab him by the shoulder, pulling him even closer as you finally regain the ability to string together words and whisper, “Name a number and I’ll pay you it if you can get the other six out of my apartment right now.”
“What? I—”
“Right. Now.” You silence any further questions with a slight smirk of your own, conveying everything he needs to know.
“₩200,000—”
“Done.”
“... and a favor,” he finishes.
You grimace, but in a split second and a single glance, your mind is made. Because you see her. Yeonhee. Eyes trained on you, expectations clear as day even as she’s so casual about it all: blowing a bubble with her gum—when the hell did she—hand in her hair as she twirls it around.
“Done.” Turns out her hair’s not the only thing Yeonhee’s got wrapped around her finger.
“A pleasure,” he says, then turns to face the others. “Alright girls, first round at karaoke’s on me! We’re gonna give this guy,” he says, with a pitiful glance in your direction, “a chance to rest his vocal chords and Yeonhee a chance to play nurse. Everyone ready?”
It’s a pitiful excuse with all the subtlety of a freight train, but it seems you’re a sorry enough sight for the other members to let you off the hook. A few minutes later, once all the goodbyes are said and done, they finally depart and take their judgemental eyebrows with them, leaving you solely in the sights of Yeonhee’s fuck me eyes.
“Hey stranger,” she calls out, crossing her legs as she lounges against the countertop. “Looks like it’s just you and me now. Alone.”
“Looks like it,” you say, striding around the island to the excessive amount of alcohol intended for the party that was supposed to happen tonight. “Can I buy you a drink?”
A spark of pleasant surprise tugs at the corner of her mouth, mirth filling her expression as you play along. “Please do.”
You reach down, opening the cabinet and pulling out another pair of shot glasses—ones much bigger than you'd ever use for “responsible” social interactions. Two heaping helpings of hard alcohol later, you slide a glass across the countertop and into the expectant hand of your houseguest.
“So, what are we toasting to?” you ask. “Our good health? Family? Friends—like the ones we just kicked out?”
“Nah, nothing like that,” Yeonhee responds, the sparkle in her eye shining as bright as ever. “How about something even more special?”
“To us?” you suggest, offering your drink to her.
She leans forward, as if she’s intending to indulge and take a sip, but instead, she leans further in. It takes a moment for you to realize that she’s kissing you—subverting your expectations seems to be her specialty tonight—but as soon as the realization sets in, you’re all too eager to indulge. Your hairs stand on end as you melt into the contact, losing yourself in the connection and cursing its loss when she pulls away.
“To us,” Yeonhee confirms when you reopen your eyes and stare into hers, tipping her own glass to your lips as you both down the other’s drink, savoring the saccharine burn as it flows down your throat. You waste no time pulling Yeonhee into another, deeper kiss before she can take a breath. The faint hint of strawberry from the flavored vodka remains, but the softness of her lips is even sweeter. Your mind spirals as the kiss deepens, and the lids of your eyes shut, allowing you to focus on the other sensations overwhelming you.
The needy scrape of her teeth against your bottom lip. A moan, barely escaping her lungs and echoing against the inside of your mouth as she leans into you. Her scent: hints of vanilla hidden amongst the overpowering scents of alcohol that have long since overtaken your kitchen. Another taste entirely emerges as the kiss deepens further and her nibbles become more insistent, nipping at your skin and drawing the taste of iron from your veins.
Some foolish sense of self-preservation forces you to pull away, leaving you stunned by the sight of Yeonhee, eyes focused on you as she drags the back of her hand against her lips, wiping away any evidence of her misdeeds as she smiles all too sweetly. “You wanna like, get out of here?”
“Oh yeah? And go where?”
“You could take me back to your place.”
“Yeonhee, we … sure. Let’s go back to my place,” you accept, eyes too wide to roll as she stands and saunters over to you.
“Wonderful. Mind giving me a ride?” Yeonhee asks as she closes the distance, stunning you once more as the scent of her perfume reaches your senses.
“Of course,” you say, sweeping her up into your arms. Your heart melts all over again as she yelps in surprise, wrapping her arms around your neck as you hold her close against your chest. You circle around your living room once, twice, thrice, and while the sound effects of screeching tires and honking horns might be a bit unnecessary, the melodious laughter that rings out from Yeonhee makes it more than worth the effort.
Finally, you set her back down, but make sure to pull her into a hug, keeping her close as you whisper, “Alright babe, we’re home. What now?”
“We could do another round of shots,” Yeonhee offers, though the suggestion’s a formality at best when she pulls away from you and sits down on the couch with legs so invitingly spread. “Or …”
“I could taste something even sweeter,” you finish. A quick glimpse at her eyes gives you all the invitation you need, gives you that last bit of confirmation that your thoughts couldn’t be more aligned.
You settle into a familiar position: seated between Yeonhee’s creamy thighs, head shaking in disapproval at the sorry excuse for a pair of shorts separating you from your desires. It’s with a practiced poise that your fingers hook into the waistband of her shorts and then further still, capturing her panties and removing both barriers in a single tug.
“So eager …” Yeonhee murmurs, corners of her mouth curling as giggles slip past her lips. You lose any chance you might have had to respond as you look up into her eyes and your train of thought is completely derailed by the sight of her bottom lip, captured between her teeth as she wordlessly begs for you to continue.
Unfortunately for her, instead of diving into the main course, your exhales serve as an appetizer, cascading hot breaths across her glowing skin. Your fingertips trace symbols alongside the insides of her thighs, spelling out names, places, and whatever the fuck else your imagination can come up with as you send faint shockwaves across her synapses, triggering the slightest of shivers across her body. Any hints of laughter died many moments ago, replaced by her best attempt as disinterest as she mumbles and grumbles and asks can’t you just get on with it?, but her words quiver and die on her lips as she whimpers in frustration.
Her hands find a home in your hair and dig into your scalp, growing more insistent by the second as she stares at you through half-lidded eyes, letting out impatient, exasperated sniffles as you just barely miss her most sensitive areas. In the dim glow of your apartment, you see a faint sheen of arousal coating her folds, but it’s nothing compared to the torrent of pleas and promises as Yeonhee asks why? and please? and begs for you to stop teasing me …
Part of you wants to acquiesce, give your beautiful girlfriend what she wants like you always do, but instead, your hands clamp down on her thighs, capturing them in a firm grip, denying Yeonhee the friction she so desperately craves even as she squirms and kicks and struggles to bring herself over the edge. You’re perfectly in tune with Yeonhee’s desires, reading her shudders and shakes like notes on a sheet, using her body as the instrument of your desires as you play her a symphony of suffering, a cacophony of crescendos that you cut short before they can ascend all the way up the scale.
The performance sends ripples across the rest of her body, sending waves of tension along the tight muscles of her stomach before ascending further upward. One of your hands follows the path up to her breast and its painfully hard nipple, capturing it between two fingers and tweaking the sensitive nub, earning another heavy gasp through gritted teeth as Yeonhee loses further control of her labored breaths.
A sigh.
A plea.
A moan.
A scream.
All of it mixes together in your ears, just another drop amidst the river of incoherent muttering spilling forth from Yeonhee’s lips. There’re curses and cries, requests for mercy and hopes that you die, a spate of stammered and slurred syllables that grow your smirk ever wider as you oh so slowly inch closer to her core.
Another exhale, a brief brush of the back of your knuckle against her clit, another pinch of her nipple—you employ every tactic available in your arsenal as she slumps back against the couch, reveling in the raw desperation on her face as arousal overwhelms her ability to fight back. You’re sadistic enough to keep her teetering on that precipice for a few minutes longer, just long enough for her cloudy eyes to fog over and for every single muscle in her body to clench.
It’s at that pinnacle of tension that you pounce, lips latching onto the swollen bud of her clit and sucking hard as you slip a pair of fingers into her dripping folds. Immediately, her whimpers turn to wails then die in her throat, her voice breaking as little raindrops of relief spill from the corners of her eyes.
Yeonhee melts into the couch as the tremors overtake her and waves of pleasure crash over her body. The gasps of breath she breathes in between her sobs are your favorite song, an orchestra of overwhelming release that you demand an encore of. Even as her back arches, her toes curl, her eyelids shut and her fingertips dig into your scalp, your hunger persists, driving you to demand more.
Another thrust of your fingers. Another kiss on her thigh. Another brush against her clit. Then another. And another. Her fingers dig deeper still, clinging to you like you’re her only tether to reality even as you’re the one bringing her to the brink of madness. Her moans climb an octave, then higher still, offering little affirmations of fuck and yes and please as you chase your shared desire.
The second orgasm comes quicker and hits much harder than the first, sweeping over Yeonhee like a hurricane and leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. The way she spasms, the way she shakes, it’s picturesque how her juices leak out and coat your face. Her walls clamp down on your fingers and force you to slow your pace to a crawl, allowing Yeonhee to come down from the high you’ve brought her to.
With that, you finally withdraw from her, mesmerized by the sight of her chest rising and falling in time with the heavy breaths she desperately sucks into her lungs. “So?” you ask, shamelessly smug as you lick the juices off of your soaked fingers. “Was that everything you were hoping for when you saw me from across the bar?”
“Not even close,” Yeonhee fires back, eyes burning bright as she stands and meets your eyes. “But it’s a damned good start.”
She leans in before you can reply, capturing your lips with fervent need as she pulls you close. “You know what I think?” she murmurs.
“What?”
“You, my dear,” Yeonhee murmurs. “Are way too overdressed.”
Yeonhee punctuates her point by dropping your belt to the ground—when did she even—and skating her hands up your stomach before hooking her fingers into the waistband of your jeans. With an insistent tug, she catches your eyes, pouting oh so prettily. Her teeth catch in her lower lip, pressing against it so, so softly as even as her desire threatens to set the room ablaze. And just in case that wasn’t enough—
“Please?”
No’s never an option when she asks so nicely. You do as she desires, lifting your shirt above your head and plunging the room into darkness for a moment. As your vision returns, you’re met with the sight of an empty room, save for Yeonhee’s shirt fluttering in the wind, acting as the sole hint as to where she’s gone. Well, that and the melodious laughter echoing down the hallway.
A soft smile spreads across your face as you follow the sounds of her footsteps, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake as your mind races. Part of you wants to play this slow, deny her desires even further, but that single syllable echoes throughout your head. Please. It’s unfair, really. She’s unfair. But that’s also what makes it so fucking fun.
At the top of the stairs awaits the entrance to your bedroom, and within lies an image that stops your heart for a swift second: Yeonhee, lounging atop the bed, her golden river of hair cascading over the pillows as she licks her lips at the sight of you.
“So.”
“So?”
“So,” you deadpan, taking slow, measured steps until you reach the foot of the bed. “What now?”
“I had an idea … if you’re willing to humor me,” Yeonhee offers, recapturing her hair around her finger and twirling it around, just like she did at the start of all of this.
“I’ve been doing so all night, no reason to stop now,” you jest, earning a mirrored smile that manages to just barely hint at Yeonhee’s adorable charm beneath the sultry expression.
“So … what if I laid back?” Yeonhee asks as she twists herself on the bed and hangs her head off its edge. Her eyelashes, still damp from your earlier torment, flutter up at you and send your stomach spiraling into knots. There’s this magnetism to her, something about those doe-like eyes that sends you into decision paralysis as you ponder whether to lean down and kiss her on the nose or shove your cock down her throat and see just how messy your pretty girl can get for you.
“What if you took this incredible cock,” she purrs, warm breath cascading over your cock and sending shivers down your spine. She tilts back and parts her lips, mirth lurking in the corner of her smirk as she asks:
“And fucked my face like this?”
Your body reacts before the words even register in your mind, one hand cupping her cheek as the other guides your cock closer, positioning yourself right above her face. Her eyes widen in both desire and delight as she opens her mouth even wider, allowing you to push yourself forward into her waiting warmth. Yeonhee wraps her lips around you, enveloping you and sucking you even deeper as her tongue darts forth, exploring every available inch of your shaft as you continue ever deeper.
A deep, guttural groan rips itself from your chest as Yeonhee bobs her head back and forth, sending waves of boiling crimson through your veins. Both of your hands find a home amidst the silky strands of Yeonhee’s hair, gripping tighter with every withdrawal and subsequent thrust of your hips. Your eyes keep glancing downwards, checking for fear in your lover’s eyes, but Yeonhee meets your stare every time with a mirror of the desire and arousal she evokes in you so effortlessly.
As your breaths shorten, Yeonhee’s tongue grows more daring, more insistent. Her intoxicating presence quickly overwhelms your senses; the sight of her in such a vulnerable position, the scent of her skin so tantalizingly close to you, and the downright vile symphony of chokes gasps moans and more as she struggles to withstand the intensity she demands of you. Even with her words taken from her, the way she claws at the inside of your thighs and the seal her lips have on your cock—she makes every single movement and action with the single-minded focus of bringing you to an orgasm just as intense as the ones you’ve given her.
Your pulse quickens, pulses, and rises, pounding at an elevated, erratic rate as you approach the edge. As you look down and catch one last sight of the beauty giving herself wholly for your pleasure, you do nothing to fight the oncoming storm, instead allowing yourself to tip over the edge into bliss.
The first of your senses to go is sight. Your view of the room goes dark as your head feels light, disconnected from the only part of your body demanding attention.
The next is sound. Any chance you have of hearing the harsh and heavy groans of pleasure reverberating out from your gasping lips is lost, swept up under the current of the sanguine rush pounding in your ears.
Touch spares you no such mercy. Your teeth grit as shockwave after shockwave pulse up your spine and to each and every one of your extremities, turning what would otherwise be an already incredible orgasm into a full-on out-of-body experience.
You remain unmoving, barely keeping upright and at the mercy of the merciless mess before you. Yeonhee refuses to let up even for a moment, oxygen unimportant as she laps at your shaft, gulping down each drop of your cum until she’s drained every ounce of pleasure from you.
Only then, when your sight is barely coming back into focus, do you see her: a single string of saliva connecting the corner of her lips to your cock before breaking off and glistening on her chin. With a coy smirk, Yeonhee wipes it away, making a show of lapping it up off of the back of her hand as her eyes sparkle with sultry satisfaction.
A moment of silence passes between you two, one you’re more than willing to spend admiring the aftermath of your shared desires. Yeonhee’s face is an absolute fucking mess, cheeks flushed with pleasure, lips reddened and swollen, altogether a perfect image of debauched beauty.
There’s something about Yeonhee like this, eyes half-lidded as she awaits her well-deserved praise that kick-starts your heart in a way no one else has even come close to replicating.
“Fucking hell, Yeonhee,” you murmur as you climb into the bed beside her and take her into your arms.
“Wasn’t that fun?” she asks, words light and airy as her eyes sparkle, faux innocence painted on every feature as if she hadn’t nearly sucked out your soul. “Pretty good idea, right?”
“Oh yeah babe, 11/10, no notes,” you respond with a huff, flopping onto your back like a starfish as your eyes close and you take a deep inhale.
The opening notes of your favorite song play as laughter overtakes Yeonhee, sending her into a fit of giggles that leaves you short of breath all over again. A small oof escapes past your lips as she lightly hits your chest, letting out one last bit of playful energy before she snuggles up against your side and wraps her arms around your torso. “The night’s still young, you know. I bet the others haven’t even finished their first round of drinks at the karaoke bar.”
“Oh?” you ask, eyebrow arched even as your eyelids remain firmly shut. “Were you hoping to join them?”
“Of course not. Do you want to be the one who has to explain that you faked an illness just because we were too horny to wait any longer?”
“What do you mean ‘we’? You were the one who just had to play out their filthy fantasy right then and there,” you fire back, opening up your eyes just enough to glare at her.
“I don’t seem to remember you putting up much of a fight,” she responds, shrugging as she looks away to hide her smile.
You opt to let silence be your response because, well, she’s right, but honestly, when you pull her close and feel the way she nuzzles her face into your chest and you catch a whiff of the floral scent of her conditioner, you realize you have higher priorities.
“So.”
“So?”
“Round two?” you ask.
“Wasn’t that round two?” Yeonhee asks, eyebrows scrunching together in deep thought.
“I’d argue that was the second half of part one—evening things out, if you will.”
“I think the pause and change of location means it’s a whole new round.”
“This whole thing started because you pretended my kitchen was a bar and that we were complete strangers. Is this really the time to argue semantics?”
“Actually, yes; I would argue immersion is integral to—”
“Yeonhee.” You cut her off there, interrupting her mid-sentence as you shift your weight atop hers and pin her wrists to the headboard. Your other hand finds a home in her hair once more, twirling those golden locks as you let the silence speak volumes.
“Yes?” she whimpers, eyes wide and breaths heavy.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Another moment passes. Another. Her pulse pounds in your grip, her lips part, her chest heaves, yet you let the silence linger. The air grows tense, making it hard for even you to breathe, but you hold your tongue, patient enough to make her ask, “Why?”
You free your hand from her hair, instead using it to position your cock as you line yourself up with her sopping heat. As you’re about to slip inside her, you lean forward, letting your lips brush against her ear as you whisper, “Because I’m going to make you lose count.”
With that, you push forward into her once more, eliciting another gasp that dies in your mouth as you claim her lips with your own. Her body presses against you, back arching in a truly exquisite display of the pleasure overtaking her. Bit by bit you press onward, breath tight in your chest as you pull away from the kiss and her velvety interior suffocates your cock.
Yeonhee’s breaths come in short, desperate puffs, ragged and scarce as you ruin her further; her teeth find a familiar home in her lower lip as she tries to suppress the signs of satisfaction showing across every inch of her immaculate form, but fails spectacularly.
“More than you bargained for?” you tease, running your thumb over her bruised bottom lip. She opens her mouth obligingly and sucks on your thumb, tongue tickling the pad before moving on to nibble on your knuckle.
“It’s never too much for me,” Yeonhee pants out, words still shaky as she rolls her hips up to meet yours, issuing a further challenge.
“You’re insatiable,” you chuckle. Yeonhee begins to respond, but you silence her once more by capturing her hips in your hands and slamming them down against the bed. You keep her pinned there, perfectly in place for you to achieve your pleasure. Each thrust becomes more insistent, finding a deeper depth inside of her as her hands grasp and claw at your scalp.
Everything feels too close yet not enough—the curve of her body molds against yours, legs clasping around your waist and pulling you ever deeper; she looks at you through tear-stained lashes, eyes unfocused as she tries to keep sight of you. Her fingers weave into your hair and pull, sending tingles of ecstasy and agony into your mind as she clings to her only tether to reality.
Somewhere in the heat of these moments, time fades into irrelevance, seconds slipping past like grains of sand through your fingers. You pin her to the bed, push her up against the headboard, pull her into the shower, bend her over the sink, toss her onto the bed once more, and drown her in the waves of euphoria all over again. Long after the clock ticks forth into a new day, you sink into the silky sheets alongside Yeonhee. You look over and you’re mesmerized by the sight of her, skin shining with the sheen of sweat as she wears your cum as a point of pride.
“Tired yet?” she challenges you, smirking as she trails her delicate fingertips down your chest.
“Fucking exhausted,” you admit, smiling just as wide as her eyes sparkle with mirth. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t go another round if you’re desperate for more.”
“Oh god no, I still need to walk out of here in the morning. Hold me though?”
Yeonhee tries to rest her head against your chest, but you’re quick to pull away and respond, “Go clean up first, you’re a fucking mess.”
“And whose fault is that?” she huffs, crossing her arms in protest.
Your eyes roll, but you sweep her into your arms as you stand, chuckling to yourself as she yelps in surprise and wraps her arms around your neck. “Fine, we go wash up and then we can snuggle as much as you like. Deal?”
“Deal.”
…
…
…
“You're such an idiot, I can't believe you got Yeonhee sick,” Yeoreum huffs from the other side of the phone.
“What do you mean? She seemed fine when she left earli—last night.”
“Really? She's been complaining all day that her throat hurts!”
“O-oh,” you stammer, badly masking your surprise with a cough as your phone dings. “That is … yeah. My bad then, sorry.”
(My most genuine gratitude to @capslocked for their assistance in making this fic far better than it would have been otherwise and for just being significantly more helpful than I could have ever hoped for. I have two other short story ideas in mind that I'll likely try to finish before diving into a mid-length project, after which I think I'm going to try and fully tackle the Saccharine rewrite. As always, thank you so very much for choosing to spend your precious time reading my work, it means everything to me.)
“We were meant to be together sounded so much sweeter when it felt like we had forever.”
There's something beautiful about intentionally making the wrong decision. Like, sure, it sounds crazy to step into the line of fire and say yeah, come on universe; take your best shot, but it’s also kinda fun, no? Granted, soaring down the streets of Seoul with the wind whipping against your jacket and the rain pouring past your helmet is maybe a bit much, but you left any concerns you might have had in the dust long before the sun set. Besides, this is far from the first time you’ve acted with the type of reckless abandon reserved for those who have yet to live long enough to have something to lose.
That calculus changes when you re-enter Seoul: speed limits shift from suggestions to mandates. After a third red in a row rips an extended groan from your chest, you spend the moment inspecting the streets you’ve traversed a thousand times. You’re met by the familiar sight of Gangnam-gu’s glimmering lights, gleaming skyscrapers, and garish nightclubs each casting their own unique reflection onto the shimmering street below. On most nights, you’re able to let the mess of colors fade into the background, but tonight, it feels uncharacteristically gray. Even then, it’s all so loud, from the rainfall on the swarms of umbrellas to the downcast expressions of the faceless crowd—hell, even the red light you’ve been keeping an eye on seems washed out.
Right as you’re wondering if you’ve been transported back in time and cast in a 1940s sitcom, a sudden flash of color at the far edge of vision completely derails your train of thought. You turn and are met by a sight pulled straight from a modern drama: a student close to your own age wearing a soaked banana yellow top and skirt clinging to her legs as she hides under her highlighter pink backpack like it’s some shoddy umbrella. It’s … not a pretty sight.
Or at least it wouldn't be, if not for the rest of her. Her long, dark hair cascades down past her shoulders and clings to her face, obscuring your view of her finer features, yet every aspect of her from her posture to the placement of her steps projects a practiced poise that monopolizes your attention. Everyone else fades from your vision as the light turns green and she turns the crosswalk into her personal runway … though the effect is kinda ruined by the urgency with which she scurries through the rain.
A feeling from deep within urges you to act—that and the person behind you honking their horn since you’ve spent the four seconds since the light turned green frozen in place. You release the brake, accelerate forward, and veer your motorcycle to the side where you know she's heading. With a quick step onto the soaked pavement and a tug on the strap of your helmet, you greet the rain with the widest of smiles, then feel it shift into a smirk as you call out, “Ouch, aren’t you a sad sight to behold. Need some help with that?”
She turns and stares, mouth agape, as she processes the sight of you. Your first glimpse of her leaves you stuck mirroring her expression, mouth agape in disbelief because she's gorgeous, with a sharp jawline that contrasts perfectly against her soft skin. It’s a face sculpted to show on billboards … and one whose disbelief shifts into a smirk as she remains unaffected by your reaction. Your eyes travel upwards past those invitingly soft lips, along the bridge of her nose, all the way up and meeting her own, where you’re all too tempted to lose yourself in them. Eventually, she breaks the silence and asks, “What. The. Fuck. Are you doing? Are you trying to die?”
“Of course not, don’t you listen? I already told you, I’m trying to help,” you say back, smile widening as her skepticism refuses to fade whatsoever. “I just figured that while we’re both out in the rain, only one of us wants to be, yeah? I'd be doing something wrong if I didn't at least offer to get you there faster, so I ask again: do you want my help or not?”
As you offer her your helmet, you see the distrust finally start thawing, just enough for her to crack a smile of her own. “This is insane—you’re insane. But you also seem fun, so why not?”
You hand her the helmet and exchange names, and as the girl you'll come to know as Kyulkyung repeats yours back to you, you watch as her eyebrows relax and the distrust starts leaving her eyes. As you go through a brief crash course—how to wear a helmet, where to sit, etc.—her posture slips too, hints of comfort and fatigue settling in as her shoulders slump. Yet through it all, her eyes remain locked on yours, causing an unexpected pang in your chest as you turn to climb onto the bike. It fades slightly when you turn back to her, offer your hand, and ask, “Okay, you ready?”
Even as Kyulkyung shivers and shakes like a leaf in the wind, the fire in her eyes burns bright as she dismisses your hand and climbs atop the bike with ease. Her arms wrap around you, sending a shock of heat through your system and your heart rate into the stratosphere as she asks, “Do you happen to know where the PLEDIS building is?”
“Funnily enough, I do,” you tell her, smirking with sinister intent as inspiration strikes. “What’re you, a trainee or something?”
“No …” Kyulkyung murmurs, averting her eyes as she continues, “I just have a really good reason to want to be there before 11:00.”
“Sure. Yeah. Totally,” you say. Her eyebrows raise; yours respond in kind. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth. You continue. “You, the ‘School of Performing Arts’ student—in said uniform—strutting around Gangnam of all places. You’re gonna try and convince me you’re not a trainee, just that you happen to have a ‘really good reason’ to be at an agency before a very specific time of night.”
“Are you trying to say something?”
“Two things actually: you’re full of shit and you’re out past curfew.”
“You sound pretty sure of that.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Why would it even matter?”
“Because I like being right, and you apparently hate being wrong. Aside from that, if I need to get you back before curfew, we’re going to have to book it, run a few red lights, pray that we don’t get pulled over—”
“Alright, enough,” Kyulkyung interjects, eyes rolling with a gymnast’s grace. “You’re not wrong, but let’s just focus on getting me back in one piece, alright? I’m pretty sure they care more about me being alive than on time.”
“We’re not going anywhere until you say it,” you insist. “Go ahead, tell me I’m right.”
“You’re actually serious?” she mutters in disbelief. You opt to let the silence act as your confirmation.
“Fine. You’re right: I’m a trainee. Happy?” Kyulkyung grumbles, grimacing as a grin overtakes your expression. “What gave it away?”
“I dunno, you kinda just seem ‘that kind of pretty’,” you say with a shrug. “Something about the way you walk too … honestly, nothing about you comes off as normal.”
“Bit rich for you of all people to say that, don’t you think? I wouldn’t exactly call this a ‘normal’ way to spend a Friday night.”
“I wouldn't either,” you admit, smiling wide as you respond. “But are you—the trainee—really gonna be the one to lecture me about running headfirst towards an enticing risk?”
“No, I'm not,” Kyulkyung says, her grip on your ribs tightening. “Though I might not be so kind if you keep me out in this rain any longer.”
“Alright, alright, fine,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as you paint on your most dramatic pout. “You’re no fun … but you are kinda cute, so I guess I can cave just this once.”
“Good,” she replies, smiling in smug satisfaction. “Now, let’s get going! I’m cold.”
“As you wish, princess,” you say, revving the engine and speeding off before she gets the chance to respond.
You immediately lose any semblance of newfound confidence as the unfiltered brunt of the elements threatens to overwhelm you on your first time riding without a helmet. First, it’s the scent of rain. Then, it’s the rain pummeling your brow. Finally, it’s the noise. Your motorcycle roars and the cars passing you scream off into the night as they pass—it’s all just so fucking loud and every single sensation threatens to pull your focus away from the road. Yet even amongst the brutal weather of a stormy night, Kyulkyung’s thoughts resonate through your mind clear as day. You feel her heartbeat race as you accelerate out of a turn, feel her cling to you tighter at every hint of yellow in the stoplights above. Without fail, she wordlessly pleads for you to choose caution, and, without fail, you do whatever she asks.
At one such intersection, you ask a question of your own: you let go of the handlebar and place your hand atop hers. Kyulkyung's response is just as silent, but she needs no words to tell you yes as she intertwines her fingers with yours as you wait together. Even through the drenched material of your glove, the heat of her touch wards off the cold, sending a surge of warmth through your shivering body as you both stare ahead into the awaiting darkness. You revel in the sensation as long as possible, right up until the light turns to green and you’re forced to pull away.
As she embraces you once more and you accelerate forward, a realization cuts through the fog and arrives at the forefront of your mind: you just met this girl and you already know you’re never going to be able to say no to her. And that’s … okay?
Yes. There’s something about her that takes the tension out of the knots in your shoulders, makes you breathe just that bit easier—at least when she’s allowing you to do so. It’s all too easy to ease into her embrace, all too tempting to take your time weaving your way through the tangled web of your home suburb’s streets. The thought proves far too tempting and you choose to do so, desperate to preserve the sanctity of these seconds spent together.
Unfortunately, the night only lasts so long and the road only goes so far, so you’re soon met by the familiar sight of your destination. You force yourself to ease off the gas, allowing your momentum to carry you forward until you come to a stop across the street from the building in question. With a sigh and a swing of your leg, you step off the motorcycle and turn to face her as you offer her your hand. This time, Kyulkyung accepts, taking it and joining you on the sidewalk. After loosening the chin strap, you gently pull the helmet off her head, granting you a glimpse of her parted lips before revealing the excitement and expectation in her wide eyes.
“So, what’d you think? Kinda fun, right?” you ask, allowing your eyebrows to lift in expectation as you await her response.
“Maaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyybbbbbeeee,” she says, drawing out that single syllable just long enough for smirks to overtake both your expressions.
“You know what? I’ll take it. And you—” you say, turning away for a moment as you unlock one of the side compartments of your bike and pull something out. “—should take this.”
Kyulkyung lets out the slightest squeak of surprise as she catches the umbrella you toss her, though the surprise is quickly replaced by the disdain and disbelief overtaking her expression. “Wait, you’re kidding. You have to be. You had this the whole fucking time?”
“Yep!”
“And you still felt the need to convince me to risk my life on that screaming metal death trap?”
“I thought it’d be a valuable experience,” you say, shrugging once more. “You can keep the umbrella by the way; it’s all yours.”
Kyulkyung’s sigh of resignation is all that keeps the street from falling into silence as you stand there, waiting for her to voice her thoughts. Eventually, she does so. “Give me your phone.”
“So greedy, honestly. I just gave you a ride and my umbrella, yet you’re still asking for more?” you scoff. Still though, you do as she asks, pulling it out of your pocket and unlocking it before handing it to her.
“It’s one of my toxic traits,” she replies as she taps away at the screen. “Everyone else seems to have gotten used to it, so I’m sure you’ll be fine, eventually.”
“Oh?” you ask, eyebrow arching as she piques your curiosity. “You hoping I’ll stick around?”
“No, I was just texting myself from your phone for the hell of it,” she says, sarcasm soaking her words like the rain-soaked streets as she finishes typing. “It totally wasn’t because I was gonna ask if I could get you coffee or something, as thanks for getting me home safe.”
Kyulkyung finally looks away from the screen, meeting your gaze with an infectious smile as she offers you your phone. “That’s unfortunate. I really like the thought of someone else paying for my drink.”
“Yeah?” she asks. A pause. Then, “Maybe we’ll just have to make it happen.”
“Maybe we will,” you agree. With that, you turn and remount your motorcycle. Before you go, you offer her one last smile as you bid her farewell. “I need to get back, but I hope you have a good night and good luck with—” you gesture wildly at the beautiful mess standing in front of you “—explaining everything I guess.”
“Thaaanks,” Kyulkyung grumbles, pouting as she shudders at the thought and ripping a warm laugh out from deep within your chest. As it echoes against the buildings’ frigid walls, her hints of a smile bloom into her own peals of laughter that harmonize with your own as they resonate as one.
“I hope you have a good night too,” she says softly after a short while. “Try not to die on the way home, alright?”
“No promises.”
Kyulkyung’s eyes roll once more, but there’s genuine gratitude in the nod she gives before turning away. As she disappears into the building’s darkened halls and vanishes from your sight, a chill courses through your veins, leaving you shivering as you adjust your helmet and take off down the road.
Barely a minute passes before you reach your apartment complex and the pale brick and light blue tones that define its color palette. After locking up your bike, you hike upstairs, step up to your door, turn the latch, and reveal … the silent darkness within. Empty, just like always. Muscle memory guides your hand to the switch, momentarily blinding you as the cool whites wash away the darkness to reveal the relaxing hues of your home.
While the sight normally instills a sense of calmness, it all seems to blur as the chill refuses to leave your body, rendering you seasick as your head swims. It remains even as you peel away your gloves and free yourself from the soaked leather of your jacket, leaving you shivering even as you turn on the shower and pray for it to heat quickly. As you wait, you decide to check your phone and see what message Kyulkyung sent herself.
You can’t help but scoff at the assumption, but it quickly shifts into a smile as you compose your response.
You (10:59 PM): When you read this, let me know if you got home safe.
I don’t want to put the time into making coffee plans if you’re not gonna show up
You (11:08 PM): You’re insufferable
You (11:08 PM): How’d everything go? Were you able to sneak back in?
Kyulkyung (11:09 PM): Oh, easily
You (11:09 PM): Not your first time pushing curfew?
Kyulkyung (11:09 PM): Definitely not
Kyulkyung (11:10 PM): And definitely not the last either
You (11:10 PM): Can't say I'm surprised lol
You (11:11 PM): I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend, even if the most interesting part has already happened
Kyulkyung (11:11 PM): Lol thanks, try not to get into too much trouble while I'm not there to supervise
You (11:12 PM): No promises
(My sincerest gratitude to @capslocked as always for their contributions towards bettering this fic. This was a draft I started a while ago that I didn't foresee myself finishing, but as I was editing it, I had the idea of posting little vignettes from the plot that I had written instead of making it a singular narrative. The plot I had in mind originally spanned something like 4 years, so just writing the highlights seems like a better fit (if there's interest for this story at all, I know it's an idol that's been away from the industry for a bit). Regardless, thank you so much for spending your time reading my work and I hope you enjoyed it!)
Yeji’s well and truly pissed—rightfully so, mind you (you really fucked up this time), and for the first time ever there may really be no clever quip or line that can get you out of this one.
But of course, that won’t stop you from trying.
“Look around! This isn’t a fucking joke!”
She’s glaring at you, the kind of furious that could melt steel with her gaze alone, eyes narrowed into sharp slits that slice through your bullshit like a hot knife.
And so, you blink first, balking under Yeji’s glare, and decide to take her advice and look away, look around at your surroundings—at the many, many reasons Yeji is justifiably upset.
For one, there’s your current location—a hospital room, not a good look. Then, there’s the cast around your arm and bandages on your head—not the worse of injuries, but again, when you couple it with the IV snaking its way up your arm, and the morbid beeping of a heart rate monitor filling the silence, it really does not make you out to be the most intact of individuals.
Finally, there’s Yeji, her eyes verging on tears and her hands balled into fists, clutching the fabric of your hospital gown and looking like she’s ready to tear the room apart.
Add them all together: a hospital room, a handsome but seriously injured boyfriend, with his devastated girlfriend wracked with worry besides him… it doesn’t paint the best of pictures.
But yet, before you can stop yourself, another attempt at lightening the mood: “You should see the other guy.”
There it is! A crack in Yeji’s armour, a flicker of something other than righteous fury on her face—eyes widen slightly, lips part just a smidge—a ghost of a smile, perhaps?
But it’s gone before you can confirm its existence—Yeji’s façade is maintained and all you get is a minuscule quirk of her eyebrow.
“The other guy was a car,” she says through gritted teeth.
“And now that car is being turned into scrap and I get to be in the presence of the most beautiful girl in all of Korea.”
“I hate you,” she replies, lovingly (you hope).
“Most beautiful girl in all of Asia?” You’re almost there, you can see it on her face.
“Still hate you.” An ease in tension—a slight drop of her shoulders, a relaxing of her grip.
“The world?”
A sigh, a frown slowly turning upwards, success! — “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot,” you add, and that gets you a smile—a real, genuine, heart-stopping smile that lights up the room more than any fluorescent bulb could ever dream of.
“What am I going to do with you?” She’s shaking her head, letting you have your little victory.
“What would I do without you?” You ask, and she's rolling her eyes—nothing she hasn't heard you say before. “Certainly wouldn’t get to stay in a room this nice.”
Yeji blushes, her cheeks taking on the same shade of the excessive number of roses decorating your bedside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Seriously, Yeji?” You say, and echo back to her, “look around.”
It’s Yeji’s turn to act coy—as if it’s perfectly normal for a hospital room to come with a flat-screen TV, designer furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city.
The room is closer to a luxury suite than a recovery ward—bigger than your apartment, even—and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to maybe risk another injury so you can maybe extend your stay even longer, especially if it means getting to have Yeji fuss over you like this.
“I might have called in a favour or two,” Yeji admits. “But they said this was the only room available!”
“Yeji, this is too much,” you say, but she’s already ignoring you, waving her hand dismissively.
“It’s nothing,” she says, rising off the bed and leaving you to your own devices, satisfied that you’ve been properly scolded.
But, you know better. While Yeji is like this with everyone she cares about—always giving, always putting others first—with you she gets especially intense with her caring, and as much as she’d probably deny it otherwise, you know that she’s more than a little smug at the sight of you laid up in this fancy hospital room, with nothing to do but let her pamper you.
“Sure, sure,” you say, but you can easily imagine her on the phone with every hospital in a fifty-kilometre radius, pulling strings left and right, leaning on the right people to get what she wants.
It’s just who Yeji is—no half measures, above and beyond in every aspect.
“I should unpack,” Yeji decides, retrieving a ridiculously oversized bag from the corner of your suite.
“Unpack?” You ask, but your question falls on deaf ears.
“I was halfway across the world when I heard what happened.” Yeji's clicking her tongue with annoyance as she struggles with the zipper for the bag. “Two days before I could get a flight out!”
“You didn’t have to rush—” you start to say, but Yeji whips her head around, a clear warning not to finish the very stupid sentence you’re about to complete.
“I didn’t have time to pack everything, just grabbed what I could from our place—” (your place, technically) “—and came straight here.”
Yeji instantly sets about your room, making sure that there isn’t a corner that hasn't been touched by her: your favourite tea brewing, the last book you were reading, a Bluetooth speaker playing her ‘songs to remind you of me’ playlist; every single thing you could possibly need to feel better.
It’s not even what she’s doing as she completes her takeover of your hospital room, it’s how she’s doing it.
She’s in her normal everyday uniform: one of your flannel shirts over a tank top that just so happens to ride up just right, showing off her toned midriff as she reaches to hang a change of clothes for you in the wardrobe. Then there’s the snug, tight yoga pants moulded to her curves that stretch over her unbearably firm ass every time she needs to bend over and take something else out from her bag.
It’s all too perfect to be accidental, and you start to get conspiratorial, like perhaps this innocent act of care is just a torturous reminder of your what you can’t have while you’re all laid up and injured.
She is dressed normally. But normal, everyday clothes for anyone else on someone like Yeji, with her body—all sleek muscles and tight lines—is absolutely devastating.
Yeji works fast, a tornado of love and care clad in a dangerous pair of leggings, and in minutes she’s done, adding a finishing touch by spraying her perfume around the room, overpowering the sterile hospital scent with the sweet, floral notes that are uniquely hers—this is her space now, anyway.
Finally, she stops at the foot of your hospital bed, picking up your medical chart, reading it like she understands it all (actually, knowing Yeji, she probably got her medical degree on the way to the hospital just in case she deemed the doctors and nurses weren't doing a good enough job and she decided to take over).
“Hm,” is Yeji’s summary of your current condition. It’s cute, seeing her stare at the clipboard with a focus she usually reserves for the stage. “Eating well, no signs of deterioration in fine motor skills, very responsive, and very… friendly?”
You raise an eyebrow. “They wrote that down?”
“Attending physician: Dr. Park Yoona, Nurses: Roh Ji Yun, Jeon Jeong ah, Bae Hye Jin,” Yeji starts to read out the list of names—female names—and you start to hear the nails being hammered into your coffin, “Nurse Kim Ji Won—seriously, like the actress? All women. Hm.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed!” Maybe feigning ignorance would increase your chances of survival. “You’d think in this day and age there’d be more male nurses now though, right?”
“Hm,” it’s that noise again. “I’m glad to hear that while I was worried sick about you, desperately trying to get over here, you’ve been well taken care of. Must be nice surrounded by all these cute women in their little nurse outfits.”
“Oh, please,” you test a deflection, “they’re just doing their jobs.”
Yeji’s eyes bore into you. “One of these nurses dots her ‘I’s with love hearts.”
You can only sigh at your impending doom. It’s been a good life.
“Who do these women think they are?”
You switch up your strategy, trying another angle: “They’re medical professionals, Yeji, not strippers.”
“Right, medical professionals,” Yeji echoes, her tone thick with sarcasm, before she suddenly switches up, putting on her sweetest, and most uncomfortable, baby voice. “Oh no, such a big, strong man that needs help. Tell me where it hurts so I can rub it better for you!”
“Stop, stop,” you protest, as much as you would like her to rub it better, you still have your pride. “I barely even talk to them—they just do their check-ups and leave. I can’t even remember what they look like, they’re probably all just plain, old ladies.”
You regret the words as soon as you say them (you really should’ve seen this coming), because before you can get any further into your pitiful defence, the door to your room swings open, and in struts a young, cheery, bouncy woman.
“Is my favourite patient ready for another check-up?” You're already cringing at the nurse’s question—her voice a squeak that’s far too high-pitched and far too cute for a hospital. If anything, she looks like an actress playing the role of a nurse, in some bad movie where they clearly casted for looks over believability.
Yeji’s eyes widen at the sight of the new, endowed occupant of the room, and she reads the name on the nurse’s tag, pinned firmly over a set of scrubs that’s a few sizes too small, and you’re immediately reminded of her earlier threat to kill you with surprising clarity.
“Kim Ji Won,” Yeji reads out loud, before suddenly remembering herself, lowering a baseball cap over her eyes and slipping on a surgical mask, hiding her face from view. She turns away, pretending to fuss with the flowers on your bedside table.
“Oh!” The nurse exclaims, and you’re starting to feel the walls of what was once a luxurious hospital room start to close in. “I didn’t realise you had a guest,” she says, as light and cheerful as ever, “is she perhaps your… sister?”
Oh God, Yeji might really kill you after this. “No, no, no, she’s my—”
But Nurse JI Won ploughs onwards, having the gall (or lack of a sense of self-preservation) to turn to Yeji, and chat away. “Your brother has been the perfect patient! Me and all the other nurses just can’t get enough of him! He’s such a charmer!”
Yep. Definitely dying. It’s been a good life.
“Oh, oops!” Ji Won giggles, as she somehow drops the clipboard she was holding, sending papers scattering across the floor. “I’m so silly, give me a second to get it together!”
“No, no, it’s okay you don’t need to—” you try, but by now you should know better, “—bend over and pick it up.”
She’s already turned away from you, pointing her ass up and straight into the air, performatively picking up the pages one by one, taking her time so you can commit to memory the exact colour of the lacy thong peeking out of her pants.
It’s so blatant that you’re almost impressed, but compared to the practiced ease of your girlfriend, it’s a pale imitation. Still, your mind can’t resist making the comparison, even though there’s no ass in the world that can hold a candle to Yeji’s cheeks wrapped in sheer nylon.
Look at you, all loyal and shit—even in the face of all temptation, you’re still a committed boyfriend, through and through.
If only Yeji, who is now evaluating you with a glare as hot as a thousand suns, could know that your mind is filled with thoughts of just her… even as you're staring at Nurse Ji Won’s ass.
You’re dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
“Aha, got it!” Ji Won is back on her feet, jumping with a cheer that suggests that maybe she could use a little more support, whilst completely immune to the sudden drop in temperature in the room. Yeji might as well be a ghost to her, the nurse looks only at you, scanning your body, searching for any new injuries that may have popped up since your last check-up.
If only she knew to just come back in an hour.
“It says here it’s about time to take out your IV!” Ji Won sunnily declares.
Consent isn’t a word that seems to exist in this nurse’s vocabulary, and she takes the opportunity to lean real close over you, pressing her ample chest against your side, making sure you get the full feel of her curves as she reaches across to the stand.
Of course, you don’t look—that would be insane. Instead your eyes are on Yeji, who’s definitely not looking at the nurse. No, she’s still boring a hole right through your skull, her hands holding a shredded flower, her knuckles turning white.
“Okay, that’s all done!” Ji Won chirps, and mercifully removes her breasts from your shoulder. “Hey, why are you acting all shy? You’re usually so much friendlier!”
“Oh?” Yeji makes a noise for the first time, and it terrifies you.
But again, the nurse pretends like she doesn’t even exist. “Let me check your heartbeat… And—”
“I’m sure it’s all fine and you can leave now, right—” You try a last-ditch effort to save this poor nurse’s life, but she’s clearly not taking the hint.
“Perfect as always, Mr. Metronome!” She says, writing down on her clipboard, clearly not noticing the seconds of her remaining lifespan ticking away. “We always talk about how you must work out so much to have a heart rate so low and consistent, I mean, obviously you do—look at you!”
You file her comments away as yet another reason your life is about to end, and try to push on, “so—I’m all good, right?”
“Of course you are,” Ji Won replies, turning the volume right up on the flirtiness, and her eyes flicker over to Yeji before she winks at you. “But I’ll just double-check everything before I go.”
“No, I think that’s enough!” Yeji breaks the conversation with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and the poor nurse jumps from the sternness of her voice. “You said he’s fine, he said he’s tired, and so that means you can leave now!”
“Oh, he’s tired? Does he need extra pillows, or is there anything I can do to make him more comfortable?”
But Yeji already has her out the door, practically dragging the girl out of the room by her collar of her scrubs. “He’s fine!”
The door slams behind the nurse, but not before you hear her giggle, “Hey, you look familiar!”
An icy silence fills the room once the nurse is gone, thick and tense. Yeji doesn’t move for several beats, it’s eerie the way she just stands there, staring at the closed door of your hospital room.
Something clicks in her head, though, and she locks the door, turning back to you, seemingly having made a final decision on your fate.
“So…” you throw out a feeler, trying your best to move straight past, well, everything. “How’s the tour going?”
“Is she perhaps your sister?” Yeji’s voice jumps an octave, a perfect imitation of the high-pitched squeak that had just left the room. She turns to you, throwing the cap off her head and tearing the mask off her face. “Vomit.”
“I have no idea what that nurse was talking about,” you say, immediately making a case to plead your innocence.
“So gross!” Her words are dripping with pure disgust, but at least it isn’t directed at you (for now, anyway). “That’s it! We’re moving hospitals!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down.”
“What is it with girls like that? Oh, you must work out a lot, I mean obviously you do!” Yeji continues her eerily uncanny impersonation. “Seriously, you’re an adult and you’re doing baby talk? ‘Perfect as always Mr. Metronome!”
“She’s just being nice, probably didn’t mean anything at all,” it’s a very weak argument you’re making, the only way the nurse could make her intentions more obvious were if she was wearing a bright neon sign that flashed ‘please fuck me!’.
“Bitch. Shameless! Hitting on my boyfriend in front of me. Acting so cute, so helpless—oops! I dropped my clipboard!” Yeji’s pouting now, fluttering her lashes, mimicking every blatant flirtation Nurse Ji Won had thrown your way.
“Really, we’re doing caricatures now?”
“Carica-what?” Yeji tilts her head to the side, and starts to sway her way over to you, her hips swinging from side to side with an exaggerated bounce. She’s playing it up to a T, making sure to sway, shake, to jiggle with each step she takes. “What does that word even mean? It’s such a big word. You must be really smart.”
Yeji settles into the role of the pretty, ditzy nurse far too easily, and her eyes tell you that she’s enjoying it far too much. For now though, you play along, clearing your throat and putting on your manliest voice—“I have been told I have a rather expansive vocabulary.”
“Wow, another big word,” Yeji’s at your bedside again, taking your hand into hers, looking up at you with wide-eyed awe. “Oh, you’re just so clever!” She giggles, as her other hand just so happens to come down on your thigh, leaving her free to squeeze and massage your muscles. “And so strong too! Do you work out?”
You grit your teeth as Yeji starts to trace her thumb in gentle circles over your skin, all the while staring up at you so innocently—she’s laying it on thick. “Sometimes…”
“I can tell…” Yeji continues, her voice trailing off as she runs her hand further up your thigh, light as a feather, but when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it’s if she’s dragging a live wire across your skin. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as she leans in closer, lets her top hang a little loose, lets you get a peek at the soft swell of her breasts, parts those full, pouty lips of hers, her fingers tracing the contour of your leg as she moves higher and higher and higher, until her fingertips are on your—“Unbelievable! I cannot believe that actually works on you!”
“That’s unfair!” You shout in surprise, letting go of a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “You can’t expect me not to react when you’re doing that!”
“Uh huh, I bet!” Yeji says, clearly not buying it. “You’re not at all attracted to the helpless, innocent, bouncy little slut that leans close so you can get a good view of her fat tits?”
“I’ll have you know I’m a singular pair of tits kind of guy.”
“This bitch,” Yeji curses under her breath, throwing her hands up in frustration. She unfortunately removes her hand from your leg, and plops herself down on your bed (it’s easily big enough for two), stewing in her emotions. You watch each cross her face: concern, jealousy, disbelief, a slight hint of amusement.
“Yeji,” you say, getting her attention, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m yours. That’s that.”
She stares back at you, her eyes light up at the declaration, and she punches your arm—your healthy one, of course. “You better be.”
It’s strange, seeing Yeji like this—so raw, so visibly affected by someone else’s attention on you. You’ve always thought of her as so strong, so confident, but there’s something in her possessiveness over you that is making you think about things that should definitely not happen in a hospital.
Fuck it, injuries be damned, without another word, you stretch forward and grab her by the waist, your good hand wrapping around her firmly, pulling her closer to you. She gasps, but doesn’t resist, no, she leans into your touch, her body melting into yours as if it’s been starved for affection.
You hold her tight, letting her settle into your embrace, and can only laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation you’re in. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be taking care of me, you’re really not helping my blood pressure right now.”
“I’m still mad at you,” Yeji murmurs into your chest, but there’s no venom in her voice. Instead, it’s filled with something else entirely—something softer, more vulnerable. Her body relaxes against you, and you feel the tension in the room start to dissipate.
“Let’s not pretend that you weren’t enjoying acting like a helpless, little slut, Yeji,” you accuse, and Yeji’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “I know you.”
“It’s your fault,” Yeji says, still hiding her face in your chest. “You and your ridiculous sexy nurse fantasy.”
“It’s a classic,” you shrug, before making an executive decision. “And this time, we actually have the right setting for it.”
Yeji looks around the room, shyly biting her lip. Again, all an act, she’s far too perceptive to not have the same thought on the forefront of her mind. “Here?”
“I saw you lock the door.” You catch the smirk that flashes across Yeji’s face. “Your mind is as filthy as mine, Yeji, I’m just better at vocalising it.”
“You think you can read my mind?”
“You know I can.” You lean in, your mouth finding hers in a soft kiss to prove your point—you didn’t need to ask to know that this is what she’s been after the whole time. Your lips find her forehead, “I can read your mind”—a kiss on her cheek—“your body”—and a whisper in her ear— “your pussy.”
You know you’re right by the hitch in Yeji’s breathing, how she leans into your touch, and when she straddles you without a second thought. Her thighs squeeze down against yours, the fabric of her yoga pants sliding against your hospital gown. She’s all soft curves and heat as she settles herself over you, her hands pressing down on your chest to keep herself steady.
“That nurse really riled you up, didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeji steals another kiss from you, a moan muffled against your mouth. But yet, there’s the slight grind of hips—slow, deliberate friction, unbearable by design. “I’m just here to take care of my helpless boyfriend.”
“Yoga pants, Yeji. Again,” you say. “I saw it all. How you just so happened to need to stretch, or bend over, or lean just right,” you tease, even though it’s getting harder and harder to get your words out by the second. “You’re just as bad as her, only you’re way better at it.”
You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, the type of kiss you’ve been dying to give her since she first walked into the room, your tongue slipping into her mouth and tasting minty sweetness on her breath.
“And you look way fucking hotter than her when you do it, too.”
A smug smile plays on Yeji's lips as she's kissing you again. “I am the most beautiful woman in Korea.”
“The world,” you correct her.
“Goes without saying,” she finished. “’Extremely hot girlfriend’, if I remember correctly?”
“On fucking fire,” you summarise, and reach out to touch her, needing to feel her, but Yeji stops you placing your hand back on the bed.
She gives you a stern look, and shakes her head. “No, no, no. You’re the patient here, remember? You’re not allowed to do anything,” she says, her voice a mix of playfulness and authority. Yeji leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “You have to let the slutty nurse take care of you.”
You see it again—that switch—and Yeji gets more adventurous, cutting off your breath as she drags her hand down, sliding it under your thin hospital gown, walking her fingers back up your thigh. She stops just shy of your hardened cock, her eyes never leaving yours, revelling in your neediness for her, your want, before finally she takes a hold of you, her grip firm and tight and sure.
There’s heat in her palm, and she pulls a moan out of you and into her mouth as she starts to slowly stroke. It’s the softness of her hand against the growing stiffness of your shaft, her fingertips grazing your skin—you know you should be more careful, more considerate of where you are, but with Yeji’s touch, all rational thought is lost.
“I bet none of those bitch nurses could make you feel like this.” Yeji’s touch is a masterpiece of precision and passion, each movement calculated, practiced, she’s right—she’s the only one who knows how to touch you in just the perfect way to make you ache. Her fingers dance along your shaft, her grip tightening and loosening in a rhythm that only she can hear.
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” You groan, playing dumb, your mind filled with nothing but Yeji’s body on top of you, her fingers wrapped around you. “What other women?”
Yeji’s eyes narrow, but she can’t hold back her smile. “Good answer,” she whispers, rewarding you by moving faster now, each stroke deeper, more deliberate, reading your every reaction to the way she pumps you, timing her fingers with your stuttering breaths.
She likes—loves—taking care of you, making you feel good, there’s a thrill in it for her, knowing that she’s the one who can make you this vulnerable, this desperate. Her hand moves with confidence, her strokes become more insistent, her gaze hungrier, and she leans forward, pressing herself into your chest, letting you feel the softness of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples through the flimsy fabric of her top.
“Does this feel good, honey?” She asks, like she doesn’t already know the answer, like she can’t feel your hips bucking up to meet her touch. "Do you like it when I take care of you?"
You nod, unable to form words, unable to do anything but keep your eyes on Yeji and marvel at just how fucking hot she is on top of you as she strokes you. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, tickling your neck and cheeks, and her eyes—those piercing, all-knowing eyes—affixed to yours, holding you hostage.
“God, I love this cock,” Yeji murmurs between kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “so big, so hard… All mine…” She’s so satisfied, so happy with herself—with your cock—her constant praise as much for her as it is for you. “Fuck, look how big you’re getting for me, barely fits in my hand.”
“God, Yeji,” you gasp, struggling to keep together, to keep from losing yourself in the palm of her hand, as each of her strokes, each of her words, keep coming, stroking your cock, your ego, fucking with you completely. “I’m getting close—”
“Not yet.” Yeji lets you go, leaving you panting, your tortured cock standing tall and missing her attention.
Before you can even mount a protest, she’s sliding up your body, stretching above your head to grab the hospital bed remote, smothering you with the soft mounds of her breasts as she does so. You groan into her, forced to feel the weight of her pressing down on you, the warmth of her skin against yours, teasing you in a way that’s both infuriating and heavenly.
With a click, the bed whirs into action, reclining back until you're flat on your back, staring directly up at her. She kneels over your head, and there’s the outline of her pussy through the fabric of her leggings, all swollen and damp and begging for your tongue.
She doesn’t have to look to know she has your undivided attention—she's pulling her shirt and her top over her head, setting her breasts, ripe and full, bouncing free from their confinement. No bra today (of course she didn’t, what would be the fucking point?) and you get a full view of those perfect tits, her dark, pebbled nipples already stiff for you.
“It’s your turn to take care of me.”
Yeji lowers herself onto your waiting mouth, lets out a noise that’s so needy, so fucking greedy, as your lips meet her heat for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
“Fuuuuuuck…”
You kiss, lick, nibble at her, tease her, groan into her thighs, as she urges herself against you, making you breathe in the scent of her sex, so immediately wet for you.
It’s not nearly enough for either of you—you need to feel her against your lips, your tongue. You move your hand up her thigh and towards her hip, digging your fingers into her waistband. But Yeji stops you again, and says the four most pleasant words in any language. “Just fucking rip them.”
There’s no hesitation—she lifts her hips off your face, you snake your hand between her legs, take one end of the fabric between your fingers, and another in your teeth: one quick, sharp yank, and you tear. The nylon gives way with a satisfying rip, and Yeji shivers above you as the cool air hits her full, puffy, exposed cunt.
“Mmmph, yesssss,” Yeji hisses as you pull her back down onto your lips, shuddering as you kiss that lovely crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, her pleasure vibrating through your own skull. She quivers, shifts, needy for your lips on her naked pussy, and she pleads, “stop teasing… I need it…”
You smile against her skin, your breath ghosting over her pussy, making her squirm. "What's the magic word?"
"Now," Yeji says, her voice firm, her thighs so magnificently tense. "The magic word is now."
With that, you give her a long lick, starting from the very bottom of her pussy and moving upward, tasting every millimetre of her juicy cunt, tracing the entire length of her slit, ending with an indulgent flick of her clit.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Yeji cries out, shivering, falling apart as your tongue finds that sweet spot, her thighs tightening around your neck. Her hands come down to either side of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as she starts to rock back and forth, setting her own rhythm, matching her hips with the pace of your tongue. “God, you’re so fucking good at that, always so fucking good at that.”
She’s whining, so, so desperate, so pleading, and you’re eager as you taste her, explore her, will her to come apart in your mouth. You’re taking generous licks, tongue dancing around her clit, teasing it, testing her full vocal range as she cries out your name
“Oh, please, please baby, fucking please.” She’s getting wetter and wetter, coating your tongue, your lips, your chin. “I missed this,” she gasps, grinding herself against your tongue, all desperation and utter awe. “Missed you making me feel so fucking good.”
You look up, up at her as she rides your face, she’s so fucking breathtaking. Her body tensing around you and on top of you—so tight, so firm—chiselled abs honed by decades of dancing, that gorgeous curve of her waist leading up to her perky, petite tits, so lovely, bouncing with every gasp she takes.
"I'm so wet for you, honey, so fucking wet," Yeji whimpers, “you always make me so fucking wet—I can’t—ah!”
A sharp inhale, you suck her clit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the sensitive nub. She’s moaning so fucking loud, so unrestrained, echoing through the hospital room and down the hallways, loud enough to let every nurse on the floor know exactly how fucking good it feels to be on top of you. Her hips jerk, she can’t control her own body now, and you know she’s getting closer and closer, determined to ride your tongue right to the end.
Just looking at her is all it takes for you—seeing her so damn horny, so satisfied sets you on edge, needing something, anything to take your cock and match her euphoria.
“Do you want me to help you out, baby?” Yeji’s reading your mind. You groan and affirmative into the folds of her cunt, and in an instant, you go from being smothered by her juices to being faced with the full, perfect tautness of her ass.
She makes it look so easy, so graceful, lifting herself off your face and spinning around to this new position—face down, ass up.
A second later and your wishes are granted—your cock, so heavy with need, standing neglected and alone is met by Yeji’s soft, warm lips, kissing the very tip of you, tasting the drops of pre-cum that’s already leaking out of you.
“Let me make you feel better,” is all Yeji says—just one light kiss, a whisper into your cock, and she dives onto you, swallowing your cock whole. It’s far too much, far too quickly, you’re out of breath and ready to tap out as her warm, wet mouth envelopes your whole rod in one, smooth suck.
Her tongue swirls around you, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, she takes you deeper and deeper, until you’re buried down her throat. You throb inside her, her throat muscles contracting back around you, and you can’t help but thrust up into her mouth, seeking more, needing more.
“Yeji!” You cry out her name on reflex as she takes you in, her hands digging into your thighs as she works her mouth up and down, bobbing, taking you deep and noisily, smacking her lips, sloshing her tongue. Whatever pain you had lingering from your arm, your head, or your ribs, it’s all forgotten—there’s only Yeji, and her exquisite lips, doing everything she can to wring every drop of pleasure out from your body.
It's too much, too intense, and you’ve been on the edge since she first grabbed a hold on you. This can’t end now, not when she’s sucking you so hard, practically worshipping your cock. You need a distraction—pull her hips back, gently, firmly, push that beautiful ass back into your face and indulge in her again.
“Mmmph—!” Yeji moans into you as your tongue meets her cunt, the sound reverberating down your shaft and right into your brain.
And now it’s a competition—you push through her pussy with her tongue, feel her walls tightening around you. She’s pushing back into you, grinding down on you, making sure you get the full flavour of her cunt, her ass, every inch of her on your taste buds.
She’s more frantic now, moving faster, sloppier on your cock as you push her closer and closer to climax. Her tongue slides against you, her cheeks hollow out around you, she drools and dribbles down your shaft—it’s messy and wet and absolutely fucking amazing.
But you can’t let her win, not this time. You double down on your efforts, suctioning your lips over her clit and start rapidly flicking your tongue, setting a relentless pace that you know will make her crumble. She tries her best to keep up, to keep going, but she’s a mess of sucking and moaning and quivering all over your face and on your cock.
Yeji works her tongue, her lips, her mouth—she makes sure you know it’s all yours. But then, after taking you all the way to the back of her throat, your cock pops out of her mouth with a wet smack, and she lets out a cry of pure, unbridled ecstasy. “Fuck, I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—FUCK!”
She collapses, bent over and prone, only her ass rocking and grinding against your face as she utterly, completely falls apart, ruined by just your tongue, ruined by the orgasm you’re giving her.
“So good—God—fuck—keep going, keep going, keep going!” Yeji’s voice is a chant, a prayer that you’re more than happy to answer. She’s shaking, her pussy pulsing against your face as you lick and suck at her clit, clouding your mind with the heady mix of sweetness and desire that has you hooked. She’s lost, given up and given over to you now, her moans becoming screams—“your tongue, your fucking tongue—gah!”
Her body geos rigid, locking up as she hits that wonderful peak—but you’re not ready to stop. You keep licking, keep pushing through wave after wave of pleasure that crash over her, not giving a second of rest. Her juices flood your mouth and you swallow greedily, drinking her in like it’s the only medicine you need.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck—fucking making me feel so good—God!”
Nothing fucking matters, all you know is Yeij’s cunt is on your tongue and her ass is in your face, and your only job is to keep licking her to her core, until she finally goes slack, crumbling on top of you.
She stays like that, her legs shaking like she’s just run a marathon, her nipples squashed against your chest, her gasps hot and ragged against your thigh. You can feel the staccato of her heart, and you hold her close, massaging her lower back as she does her best to catch her breath.
And yet, there you are, still throbbing, still so fucking hard and delirious with your need for her touch.
There’s no point in hiding it, she’s so close you can feel her breath on your cock, your close enough to poke her eye out with how hard you are.
“Someone’s feeling left out,” she says, as if she’s not entirely to blame. “Is that for me?”
“You know it is,” you respond, far weaker, more pleading than you intended.
A gentle, torturous kiss against your thigh, and you’re just about ready to explode in her face. “Then I guess as your dutiful, loving, girlfriend, I better do something about it.”
It’s so easy for her—one moment she’s exhausted, out of breath on top of you, the next she’s fully recovered, back on top and mounting you, facing you as she smears the tip of your cock with her wetness.
You try to sit up, eager to get straight to it, straight to fucking her like you need to, but her hands are on your shoulders and she’s pushing you back down.
“Lie down, baby,” she hushes you, pressing you down onto the mattress. “Just enjoy this.”
Her eyes narrow as she drinks in the sight of you, bursting with anticipation as she lowers her pussy onto your cock. It’s a special kind of torment, one that makes your hips buck involuntarily, so impatient to feel her warmth again.
But she takes her sweet time, and it’s only when she’s close enough, she bends down, mouth hovering over yours. Your eyes drift shut, and you wait for that soft contact of her lips, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, she whispers, "I've got you," and you feel the warm, velvety embrace of her cunt as she takes you in, inch by agonising inch.
Fully seated, her walls close around you, and that’s when she kisses you hard, her tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth with the same aching hunger of her cunt around your cock.
She tastes so damn good, feels incredible—it’s been too long, and you want nothing but to grab her, hold her and slam her hips down onto yours and drive deeper into her, but your body won’t cooperate.
You can only lay there as she starts to move, her hips rocking back and forth, slowly, intentionally, having you seeing stars. And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, she lifts herself up off your cock, and in one swift motion, sinks herself straight back down, whispering “holy fuck yesss” against your lips.
She needs time to get used to you, used to your cock filling her whole again. “This fucking cock,” she bites your lip as she rides you, “always so big, always so perfect.”
Yeji has to take it slow, has to let her pussy stretch around you, adjust to you, before she can start to ride you, to fuck you like she really wants to. And she does want to—wants to claim you, erase any doubt about who is the one person that can fuck you like you deserve to be—so, so much.
Each movement down the length of your cock is faster than the one before, each moan into your mouth hotter, each clench of her cunt around yours so much tighter, until she’s fucking you in earnest—harder, faster.
“So thick, so, so, riiiiight,” Yeji groans.“I’ve missed this, needed this.”
She’s riding you like she’s been waiting for this forever, like this might be the last time, bouncing her ass up and down, her eyes hooded with lust, her hair a wild mess around her flushed face, her nipples swinging every time your hips meet.
“When you get better, honey, I need you to fuck me real hard,” Yeji whispers in your ear, her breath hot and tickling, thick with lust, her tight cunt milking you, keeping you on the edge of insanity. “But I’ll take care of you for now, I’ll take care of this cock—fuck I love it—I love you—I love that you’re mine.”
“You’re mine too, Yeji,” you groan back to her.
“That’s right—I belong to you and you belong to me,” Yeji punctuates her point with a hard slam of her cunt down onto your cock. "You're My. Fucking. Boyfriend."
She’s getting faster and faster now, picking up her pace, like she needs to prove something, to herself, to you, to the entire fucking hospital.
“Those other bitches can’t ride you like I do—can’t fuck you like I do,” Yeji’s panting, each word fucked out of her, coming out like a proud battle cry. She’s right, you’re sure of it—no one else can make you feel this way, no one else can take you, claim you like she can. She’s lost in it now, lost in the heat and the friction, her whole body consumed by a burning desire to show you just how good she is at this.
Yeji leans back, sitting upright, giving herself better leverage to bounce on your cock, giving you a better view of her body—all perfectly sculpted edges and soft curves—and those fucking perky tits. They’re stunning, just like the rest of her, and you reach for them on instinct, cupping the soft mounds, feeling the weight of them in your palm. Her nipples are so hard, erect, begging for your touch, and you don’t want to disappoint—could never—so you pinch and twist them, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pussy tighten around you as she cries out.
“No one can take this big fucking cock like I can—down my throat, in my cunt.” It’s a declaration—loud and proud, for every single person in the hospital to know.
“Jealous?” You grunt out the word, hoarse, rough. “Thinking about me fucking other woman like I fuck you? Making them scream—making them cum as hard as I’m about to make you?”
You can see the twist in Yeji’s face, how her pupils dilate as your words sink in. There’s a war playing out on her face, jealousy and desire, the mere thought of you fucking other woman making her pussy spasm around you. “Oh, fuck you! You would ruin them, honey, they wouldn’t be able to take you. Or is that what you want to hear? Some cute bitch screaming: ‘oh baby, oh please, oh daddy, I can’t take it—I can’t take this big fucking cock!’”
There’s truth in the mockery, and there’s a dark thrill in Yeji’s jealousy. But now’s not the time for anything (or anyone) else but her—you’re too close, too far gone, your cock throbbing with the need to spill into her.
“Only I can take it, it’s mine, mine, mine.” She’s soaking you, so needy, so deep, so fucking filthy as she whines over your cock. “You better keep fucking me—only me—or I will make your life hell.”
“Show me then,” you challenge her, and you can see something flash across her eyes—something primal, something rough.
“I’m yours,” she declares again, riding you in a way that can only be described as pure art, her whole body moving in perfect harmony with a singular goal—to be absolutely wrecked by your cock. “All yours, nobody else’s. And you’re mine.”
It takes one hard pump into her tight, sweaty body and she’s falling into you, her body pressed on top of you, her forehead pressed against yours. It’s electric, the connection between your bodies, a jolt of pleasure surging through your cock and her cunt until all that matters is the feel of her fucking you like her life depends on it.
It’s love at every thrust, every gasp and moan. Nothing but Yeji on top of you, her soft skin pressed against you, her heartbeat racing against yours, her wetness coating your cock like a silk glove. Not just pleasure, you’re claiming each other—she’s whispering it in your ear, whispering your name like a promise, a declaration of war against anyone who would dare to come between you.
“Fuuuck.” Yeji bites down on your shoulder, digs her nails in your skin, squeezes her pussy around you like a vice. “I’m gonna do it again,” she mewls, “this cock—your beautiful cock—is gonna make me cum all over again.”
She’s chasing that precious feeling, desperate for it, her hips moving in erratic circles, determined to bring you with her. You can feel it too, the beginnings rising from the base of your cock, the tension in your balls. You want to hold on, to make this last, but at this point it’s like trying to hold back a tidal wave.
“Give—fuck—give me more!” Yeji’s eyes are squeezed shut; her mouth open in a silent scream as she grinds down on you, her body trembling with the effort to keep her balance. You can see the tension in every line of her body, how her abs clench, her toes curl. It's like watching a live wire, and you're the one holding the current. "Nobody can fuck me like you do—fuck—nobody can take you like I can!"
You wrap your arm around her shoulder, holding her tight, wrenching control from her, making her prove her words with every forceful thrust. You’re going to be in pain later, but fuck all that—Yeji’s so wet, so tight, so fucking hot—she’s a force of nature, and you’re just the lucky fuck that gets to be in the eye of the storm.
“You’re going to cum in me, now, okay? I’m going to cum so fucking hard and then you’re going to cum right inside me.” Yeji’s completely given herself over to you, letting you fuck her, use her, she’s all yours anyway. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!”
And then she’s there, her cunt gripping you like a fist, her walls pulsing and quivering around you. Yeji’s eyes fly open, her gaze locks onto yours, and she’s cumming hard.
Her orgasm rips through her body, she’s choking your cock with pussy, muscles tightening and release in a painful rhythm, and all she can do is shake and cry out every filthy word she knows, every sweet noise she can make as she spills and creams and comes apart on top of you.
“It’s too much,” Yeji’s barely holding on, panting incessantly, “too-fucking-much—too-fucking-much!”
The way she looks, the way she fucks, the way she cums—it’s a thing of beauty, an absolute fucking honour to witness—every twitch, every shiver, every gasp that falls from her swollen lips. Her nails pierce your skin, her teeth threaten to draw blood, her eyes wide and wild as her climax crashes over her.
“Please-please-fucking-please!”
But she doesn’t stop. If anything, she’s becoming more insistent, more urgent, fucking back against you again, her hips moving in a blur, taking you like a woman possessed. She’s pleading for you, pleading for you to give in, to let go, to follow her into bliss. Yeji’s a woman on a mission—to make you feel her, to make you fill her and you realise that maybe this isn’t just about jealousy anymore—it’s about making you know in every fibre of your being that your cum belongs in her cunt and her cunt only.
"Give it to me," Yeji demands, “I need you to—please—fuck—cum in me!”
Every word’s a trigger, sending you spiralling over the edge. It’s been building for an eternity now, an unbearable pressure needing to find a home in Yeji’s scorching, sopping wet pussy.
“Kiss me—I need you to—need to taste—fuck—please—kiss me now!”
There’s nothing left to do but obey, bringing your hand to the back of her neck and pulling her down into a fierce, bruising kiss. Your mouths crash together, your tongues dance and entangle, your teeth clash, and all the while Yeji’s clenching around you, cunt contracting in an effort to keep you still, keep you together.
“Fill me.”
A final, triumphant spear into her and your gone—releasing, spurting your cum deep inside her—so hard, so hot, so intense, emptying everything, all of you, every last drop into her greedy pussy.
“Yesssssss—this—this is what I needed.” Yeji hums a satisfied note into your collarbone, so full, so complete, so content. She’s still slowly rocking her hips back and forth, still pulsing around you, milking you dry. “I feel so…full.”
She dissolves into a puddle in your arms, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck. Your hand finds its way to her back, tracing gentle circles, rubbing away the tension that’s been built up, the strain she’s put her body through.
She’s warm, she's so alive, and you can feel her heart beating against your chest, a stilted, hurried rhythm that's gradually slowing down. You kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, anywhere you can reach without having to strain yourself. It’s a gentle reassurance, making sure that for all the fucking and the filthiness, she knows that no matter what happens, you’re there to make sure she’s okay.
Yeji whispers an “I love you,” her words like a balm to your soul. “I really, really, fucking love you, you know?”
“I know, Yeji,” you say, low enough for only her to hear. “I really, really, fucking love you too.”
There’s still the embers of your shared climax resonating through your bodies, the come down from an epic high that’s left the two of you a tangled mess of limbs and hospital sheets. You both lay there, Yeji’s pussy still spasming around your cock, your cum and her juices dribbling down and pooling between your bodies.
“I was really worried about you.” Yeji whispers, vulnerable. The admission hangs in the air above you, a stark reminder of the fear and insecurity that’s been simmering just beneath the surface. “When they called me, I thought—I—I fucking hated that feeling.”
“I’m sorry,” you say. It’s all there is left to say.
“And I am really pissed about these nurses,” Yeji adds with a deadly seriousness, that only makes you smile. “I’m moving you to another hospital as soon as I can.”
“We just might have to after this,” you murmur, stroking her hair as you catch your breath. “No way they didn’t hear any of that.”
“Good.” Yeji declares, a little too intensely, too smugly.
You look down at her and can’t help but chuckle. “Well aren’t you all happy and copacetic now?”
Yeji looks back at you, pauses, and then grins. “Copa-what-tic?”
You can only roll your eyes. “Copacetic.”
“Wow,” Yeji starts, her voice back up an octave, laced with sickly sweetness. “Such a big, complicated word. You’re so smart.”
“Uh huh.”
“And these muscles too! Look at you all pumped and sweaty. Have you been working out?” Yeji teases, her cheeks still flushed a bright pink shade. She reaches down to give your bicep a gentle squeeze, mouthing an exaggerated ‘wow’ in amazement of its size.
“I did just finish a pretty intense workout. Might’ve even got another concussion from having my brains fucked out.”
“In that case, as your nurse it’s my responsibility to get you good and clean.” Yeji’s kissing you again, soft and slow. “Come on now, let me give you a good, nice scrub.”
“Is this going to be a reciprocal thing, you wash my back, I wash yours?”
“Why don’t you come with me and find out?” Yeji slides off your cock, peeling herself off your sticky body, and lifts herself up and off the bed.
You watch as she stretches, her body a glorious mess of grace and sweat and cum, and for a moment you’re just in awe of her. She’s glowing, and she’s not even trying.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” Yeji winks, already sauntering away from you and towards the bathroom, her hips swaying, her ass calling for you with each perfect bounce. “It’s time for some serious physical therapy. Nurse’s orders.”
There’s always going to be that one occurrence in your lifetime. Where, even when all possibilities of it happening just doesn’t seem to line up, still does.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Doomed to regret, or relieved of the fact that you’re given a chance after waiting for who really knows how long, it all arrives in the same fashion. You’re pretty certain that things like these transpire for a reason; and sometimes, the best part about this mystery is what’s to come after.
Truth be told, it’s an unexplainable miracle how Julie still remembers you after all these years.
Okay, that statement itself might be an over exaggeration, and it’s been roughly about five years? Maybe seven? Shit, it might be even eight or more. The game of life doesn’t have time for someone like you to stand idly, dozing off and unbothered like that’s how you want things to be.
Nonetheless, you analogized this to your circle of friends about how you and Julie are like parallel lines: destined to be side by side, never to cross each other's paths to meet in the middle. You’ve convinced yourself long ago there would never be any form of instance crossing past that line of being in love with her, ever. Despite what everyone says otherwise, the teasing never stopped; a recurrence every once in a while with your high school friends (and hey, it’s not your fault that you tense up at the bare mention of her name or see a picture of you and her together from when you were kids and not have a crossing thought of what could’ve been). She’s been the one person who was always there for you, until eventually going away and out of your life before you could even understand what any of that meant in the first place.
It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time you’ve set eyes on her or the last, because a part of you seems to stop in their tracks whenever she’s within line of eyesight.
–
Midday, at the peak of rush hour traffic around the airport, there’s a scramble of newcomers and departing travelers through the doors of the terminal. The sporadic influx of people with one or two hand carries, and various cart goers with enough baggage to stay in the country for more than a projected month.
You pull the corner of your lip when you see a familiar shade of bright ash colored hair, retro shades shielding her face from anyone that might notice at a glance. Her luggage was surprisingly less than what you have expected: a bulky backpack that’s roughly the size of her entire midsection (she could go hiking or backpacking for all you know) and a large suitcase with a duffel bag stacked on top of it.
Julie being Julie, she decided to go the comfort route of her outfit rather than the haute couture style that she always plasters her social media profile with which was a nice change to see considering the amount of sponsors she has at her age. She scans the line of cars with the hazard lights on along the lane, immediately bee-lining for yours while you’re leaning against the side with the engine still running and not with the hazard lights on, just to make it easier for her to spot you.
When she finally stops her footing a few inches before the curb, she lets out this sigh when the handle of her suitcase clicks back in, plopping the duffel bag onto the ground as if she’s making her presence known, you take a quick look around ensuring that she wasn’t trying to make a scene. “Hey,” she calls over. There’s no second thought; you could be fifty feet away and still spot her.
Julie runs a hand through her hair, chin tilted up slightly when you get onto the sidewalk from the street, signifying the clear difference in height. She’s at your neck, and you’re glad that she stayed around there - you know, just to annoy her.
Coming off ever-so casually, “Hey.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You lift your eyebrows with one at the highest point you could take on your forehead. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
A shake of the head, you’re giddy in an instant second.
“Seriously?” She starts, pulling out her set of earbuds and her glasses simultaneously, raising an eyebrow before squinting her eyes closely to your face, and all you’re doing is just letting your head fall a few degrees left to keep her second guessing. “There is no way they let you be my personal chauffeur for today.”
“Well, about that.” you scoff, stepping on the concrete away from the asphalt while also fishing out a folded twenty dollar bill from your pocket. “I was doing some errands for my parents before I got hit with the last minute memo to pick up some girl that’s been too busy with stardom.”
“What’s the adult dollar for?” Julie asks, fighting the smile terribly while you’re matching the same energy. “Are you tipping for yourself?”
A pause forms between the two of you, staring, reading into each other’s expressions. The white noise of cars coming occasionally broken with scattered honks across the place. You kinda look stupid with the twenty dollars in between your fingers, but Julie breaks first by looking down, you’re rolling eyes at how simple it’s been after all this time - easing into her, and she does the same.
She steps forward with swinging arms, capturing you in between them. Julie was always the outgoing one with affection. Growing up, you kinda got sick of her being up all in your space. Now, you’ve come the long way ‘round; her hand lightly grips the back of your neck, you’re shaking her side by side with your arms around her waist, suddenly she’s got a hand to your cheek before she pinches it just to annoy you. One thing for sure: you enjoy the small bubble entrapping you with her, not giving a care for what’s going outside of it.
“Oh my god?” you tell her breathlessly, half drunk on the sweet scent of her hair, pushing her back slightly to get a second look at her, trying to process how much she’s grown. “You- your hair….”
“I know right?” she acknowledges, tilting her head off to the right while hiding away. “Didn’t think that orange would be my color in the first place and now, I own it.”
She looks good, and somehow she’s still the same Julie you remember spending a good chunk of your entire childhood with to know that unchanging fact.
“Long flight?” you ask her, hands on her shoulders with a quick massage. “You know what they say about airport crushes; see them once, and they’re gone the next moment for forever.”
“No one has ever said that.” Julie laughs, flipping some of her hair over the shoulder, her lone hand lightly underneath your forearm, not letting the faintest clutch of your sweater get to you because it will, and it seems that the personal point still stands, but you remember the conversation with her regarding that all those years ago - unsure if the sting is still present or not, you’ll have to ponder sometime later. “Always the one to say complete nonsense to me and expect to understand it,” she closes the distance with you again, a slightly more prolonged hug, relaxing into your embrace again with a sleepy sigh, “But yes, I’m still tired.”
“So much for getting lunch.”
“Oh, we can still get lunch, if you’re paying of course.” She says, pressing both of her index fingers together innocently, dodging your eyes on purpose before you realize what she’s actually doing.
“Typical of you, Julie.”
“What? I’m not doing anything.” She replies, shaking her head. Your peripheral view catches a person wearing a neon yellow vest approaching you two, probably coming over to issue a warning that you’re picking up and not parking. Looking in the same direction, she too, takes the hint, realizing that you’re in a slight time crunch and the reunion can take place somewhere else. “Besides, I was always the one to get you lunch after school when you said that you weren’t hungry.”
“I could just take you straight home,” you say, popping the trunk to put all of her belongings in the back.
“Don’t! I’m kidding, obviously.”
That’s your Julie.
“Unless you don’t let me pick the place to grab something, then I guess you could take me home then, if it isn’t that much work for you.” She remarks while you’re rounding the car from behind, slotting in the gap to open the door for her before she swaps places with you on the outside and her on the opposite side.
Regardless of the absence, she’s hit it off with you again like nothing had ever happened, the habits of goodwill when you’re shielding her head from the roof of the door frame and shutting it when she finally sits in.
It’s like a rerun of old memories coming back. When the whirr of the engine springs to life from the ignition, paired with the dragged out sigh of Julie settling into the passenger seat of your car, leaning the seat all the way back with her feet on the dashboard. She’s also surprised that you kept a few trinkets that she put in the interior, but the main takeaway was the polaroid on the left side of the speedometer. The image wasn’t that big of a deal if you’re looking at the date scribbled with a sharpie, but it’s her lips pressed against your face on the last night before she went away to pursue her own endeavors. As for the gesture itself, Julie laughs it off since the main reason was because she had one too many drinks - which was understandable, to say the least.
(Well, friends have their own ways of showing off their love from a platonic standpoint, so this was just one of those instances; nothing more.)
You and her just talk for what seems like ages, forget with the notion of playing catch-up. She’s only been here for probably less than an hour and half at this point, and you could care less with the traffic on the way to the niche coffee spot where you and Julie have always gone to after school days and study sessions.
She points out to you that everything is pretty much the same since she left it - like she runs the place - and in a way, it felt like that to you for a while. It’s all in the scattered corner stores, the park with those two stationary bikes that she’d ride just because she’s bored, that one avenue of houses that you and her talked about owning one day if the lottery was won between the two of you. All of these things start coming back to you like stills from an old film camera.
“I helped get the house redone with flooring and everything,” you tell her, flicking the blinker up and looping right into the parking lot of the cafe. “Figured that it was time to change some things up around there for once.”
Right when you set the car to park, clicking off the seatbelt and she too does the same; you glance over to the passenger seat while grabbing for your wallet and keys, seeing Julie on her side, head propped up to her hand, a leg tucked to her chest before she nods her head down to let the set of sunglasses fall weirdly on the bridge of her nose, fixing it soon after while softly smiling back. “Anything else that I missed out on that I haven’t heard from the others?”
You look up, pursing your lips together with a hum, trying to give somewhat of a legitimate answer, “Perhaps one thing: me.”
Julie stares at you unimpressed, slightly cringing at what was just said while you’re wearing a dumb grin spread across your face. Her chin dips diagonally, insisting silently that you give her a valid explanation, but you don’t. She knows your fair share of flings and failed talking stages, and she’s not far off the cut too; coming to you for advice about how guys operate because you understood well that some of them only think with their fucking crotch and not their brain most of the time.
She sighs, this time with a light smirk in acceptance. “Fine, I’ll take that to be an acceptable answer.”
Phone and wallet in one hand, the other opening the door, a turn of the head shields you biting your inner lip, mind slowly falling into the delusional thought of filling the gap in your amygdala of what should’ve been done in the first place.
Maybe if you had the chance to go back in a time machine to alter the causes, the outcomes might’ve been in a much different space entirely.
–
Though, it’s worth mentioning that you and Julie have never actually tried dating each other up until she left during junior year. The idea itself wasn’t necessarily tempting, but the lone strings in your heart decided at best that it wouldn’t escalate anything higher than what you already had with her.
–
Sure.
Everything comes natural when it’s with Julie. Out of everyone in your small circle of friends, it was you and her that have been tethered together since you two were basically in diapers. She was born a few days before you; in the same hospital, on the same floor. Your mothers already had a tight-knit connection even prior to you and her even stepping in the picture of their lives. Then there’s the special aspect of being a pair since preschool; nearly all the moments were either you and her not too apart from the other.
You poke a straw through her latte before handing it to her first, only to take the same drink and bring it back around for you to have to take the additional one you bought instead. Everything starts to settle like old times. She’s telling you stories about what she’s doing with her career; nothing short of traveling around the world, giving you the most colorful way of what occurred even if it was the most simplest of things. The brand deals, the collaborations, how she loves what she’s doing. You couldn’t be more proud of her for taking her life by the reins because you and her both agreed that staying here in this town would only hold her back to what she really wants.
“So,” she starts, placing her phone down after showing her pictures of her recent outing somewhere in Poland. “Remind me what you’re doing again?”
She’s sitting across from you on the table, leg over the other, hands linked at the knee. Her drink is almost finished, there’s a half eaten croissant while you’re playing back all of the things that might be worth noting. You look up to see that subtle smirk, a hint of her dimples that you’ve probably fantasized about kissing because they’re just there, her pretty cat-like eyes, low and heavy, and her hair just looks amazing to see since the papaya color really suits her well.
“Well, it’s nothing really worth sharing,” you say, grabbing another sip through the opening of your drink, “This job I got starts in a few weeks, and oh- grad school’s finally done and over with.” Julie nods in excitement, clapping quietly with her fingers while you’re waving a hand up to save the embarrassment. You show her the grad photos and ceremony, and tells you looked good, apologizing for not showing up earlier to be that for your massive accomplishment.
“Anything else that you’re doing to pass time?” she asks, stealing your drink since she finished hers.
“I write a little here and there. No big deal.”
“You do?”
You shrug, “Kinda, sort of struggling with this one story or idea that’s been rattling my brain for the past couple days now.”
Julie does the similar action like she did earlier while getting out of the car; that slight lean back with narrow eyes to subject something suspicious. “Is it the kind of writing that I think it is?”
“Jul, it’s just poems.” you tell her, adjusting your chair closer while she spills a mess of giggles while you snatch back your drink for another sip to keep yourself distracted. “You know that I get lost with reading. It was just that one time that you caught me red-handed.”
“You’re not at fault for hooking me onto that kind of stuff too.” she replies, fingers bridged together to support her chin with her elbows on the table, “I will say, the mind can create the wildest imaginations.”
“Have you noticed what you’re doing with those outfits and dances?”
“Hey, I read those comments every now and then.” Julie takes back your drink to finally finish it, placing the cup off to the side with the half-eaten croissant to open up the table for conversation. “It’s just one way of staying engaged with fans without even interacting with them.”
That’s the kind of line you drew with Julie: being her supporter while she’s coming into her own. Making a name for herself through her own route of success to being famous, garnering attention by the minute with every post that she makes of herself or with others. You find yourself staring at pictures of her in outrageous outfits a little too long at times, watch the parts of her in videos on loop because she’s radiating with happiness, enjoying what she does. Her voice is distinct for you to pick out, and you’re wondering also: what did the world do to deserve an angel like her for just being the way she is?
She was a constant in your life, the couple of minutes you set aside in your schedule to see what she’s up to while in school or work - an out reaching thread you’ll dip down to see where she is or what she’s doing.
Can’t be mad at her for not keeping up with you after all this time anyway.
“Why did you bring me here?” Julie asks, her tone serious with hands now on her lap.
Instead of sugarcoating the inquiry, you’re mature enough to the point where some things are best given flat out the first try rather than scaffolding the truth bit by bit.
–
(It’s a flashpoint in the same spot years ago; the end of one thing, the start of another. Only main difference of this was the seating arrangement: you with your back against the fence and Julie on the opposite end with someone carrying a tray back inside the cafe.
The receipt was already on the table, empty orders of drinks just waiting to be discarded. It’s sundown, and the inside was already packed with various students cramming in bits and pieces of study guides for that history test they’re all convinced that they’ll fail. Not you, because you’re confident in your academic abilities so why lose sleep over it.
“I’m finally going forward with this.” Julie tells you, sitting idly while she just went you through the potential plan of her journey to success. Bottom line still stands: she’s going away, and the news still hits you like a deer caught in headlights. She nudges your shin that makes you snap out from your trance off into the distance, “Are you even listening?”
“I am- I was.” you answer, shaking your head while scratching, because you’re aware of the facts. Julie has been pushing to get herself off with her feet up in the sky, and managed to land a chance to finally make that silly dream of being famous into a reality. It’s been brewing behind the scenes, seeing her pace back and forth between phone calls while having a quick bite before dinner at her place. “So it’s really happening this time.”
“Yes.” She says, as if the news itself already didn’t tear an opening in your heart from the beginning. Any lingering feeling that was there for her was about to be ripped away from you in the next few days, and there’s not a lot of time left either; so why put in effort to even try and convince her when her mind is already made.
“Only a matter of time until you’re finally gone.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“You know how I am with things like these.” you tell her, flatly. “The sentiment coming from me feels wrong, but it's your dream and I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
Julie’s expression softens, meeting your eyes. They’re filled with fading stars while hers are glassy, lip quivering while she reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing the ridges across the wrinkles of your knuckles - how the touch will be an unknown to her, inevitably.
“You’re not hurting me.” she says, smiling, confessing like it’ll give you some comfort to live with. “You never did.”
She knows your wavelength better than anyone else besides your parents. Nodding at her reassurance, you put away the one thing that you should’ve said in hiding, since it’s already too late. You don’t even know when she’ll be back let alone have the expectation for things to be the same later, because it won’t be.
It’s also impossible to satisfy the urge in telling her everything right here and now, put all of your thoughts and feelings on the table with no regrets; it’s there, but you’ve stomached the feeling deep down enough to keep it inside.)
–
“I mean, this is where we left things,” you tell her, bearing a smile, “why not start right where we left off?”
–
What’s talked about throughout years is all recapped in the matter of a few hours. You’ve gone around the town in different spots, talking about the notable events that occurred in each and every one of them. There’s a fill-in between different friends and shakeups of relationships and careers that has Julie in shock at the misdirection through the juicy details that never in a million years she would believe had happened. It’s still going, even when you drop by your home to see your parents and their adopted child (figuratively speaking) for a bit before carrying on with the drive to absolutely nowhere with the switch from your car to your mom’s SUV.
“What’s it about?” Julie asks while you stop at a red light. “Don’t tell me it’s a shitty sob story you’re struggling with.”
A press on the brakes, maybe a little too hard that slightly sends your body and hers jerking forward. And to that she punches your shoulder while you’re laughing. “For calling my story shitty.”
You’re reminded of her rudeness with words - letting out all the profane words that she’s been forced to bottle up for so long, letting it slip here and there for comedic relief. But with you, the rules never really applied to her, and you’ll do a limit test of crossing various things off the list, it’ll happen.
“Still haven’t answered my question.” she reminds you, a pinch to your arm also to let you know that she’s not playing around. You let her get her way, something that you’ve accepted a long time ago. Now with her newfound image, she’ll use that to her advantage that won’t definitely come back to bite her in the ass.
The glow from the excruciatingly long light catches Julie’s face from the corner of your eye. She raises a brow in suspicion when you look forward out into the open road, endless waves of darkness swallowing up the fading street in the distance. “It’s about past lives.”
“What.” she snorts, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
(You wave your hand back at her while she giggles, and you say that maybe staying at your house was a better idea than going back into town.)
“This was exactly what I was talking about,” you tell her, glancing at her side profile, the canvas of her cheeks, her hair in a loose ponytail that she’s twiddling around between her fingers, eyes looking up to the sky above before looking back as an implication to continue. “I found inspiration about this one movie where two friends who’ve been forced apart from each other, only to find their way back in the most cliché way possible.”
“So original.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Okay, yeah.” Julie lets out a bigger smile, the one where her eyes also mirror the same movement as her lips. “Give me a more indepth version of this when we get to our destination and I’ll reconsider your pitch.”
As soon as she says that, the light finally turns green, and you gradually press down on the gas pedal.
–
Here’s what the general consensus doesn't know about you and Julie; an omission of facts, one might say.
Only a few handful of people among your circle of friends would know of the situation where Julie had convinced you to pose as her fake boyfriend sometime around sophomore year. To be fair, the guy trying to court her during lunch was a bit of an ass when talking to her - being so stuck up and over his own head that made you want to punch the dude, so not even more than five seconds of their interaction was enough for you to shut any sort of speculation down entirely.
Everyone from the outside looking in would all share the same tune: there would be no way in hell that you’d get past the friends aspect with Julie.
(But it did happen; in that short time, and even if it wasn’t actually a real relationship with her- well, that didn’t really matter anyway.)
It’s all over your face. In pictures from different hangouts, videos in school projects, people calling out of you daydreaming during in between classes or breaks, getting in trouble for cutting class just to make sure everything was according to plan (and not because Julie forced you to ditch since you would say yes regardless). Most guys who were gunning to have their chance turned down by Julie would fall back entirely whenever they see you and her walking together - because they somewhat already knew of the endgame about to occur.
As for the memory itself, you faintly recall some sort of verbal agreement with her, things to sell the whole act from both parts: hand-holding, the mandatory dates, and all of the other stuff that was easy to fall into since you and her were so comfortable with each other already. The only issue, however, was the projected timetable of how long this fabricated ‘relationship’ was supposed to last.
“We have everything down,” she tells you, scruffing up the soles of her shoes along the sidewalk one day after a ‘much needed debriefing’ at the park. She’s pulling you by the sleeve - you know, for good practice. “I think we’ll be fine going forward.”
“You didn’t say how long we’re supposed to keep up this act for.” you say, opening the gate to her front yard and up the steps to the door. “The three month rule exists for a reason.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s an unspoken requirement.” you reply flatly.
Julie bats her eyelids at that, getting on the first step of her porch to make herself taller to you, twists her body mirroring yours with hands on both sides of your collarbones. She lifts your face up, thumbs on your cheeks that could pose as teardrops because of how solemn your expression was, and she smirks at the appearance. “You’re nervous.”
“Nervous?” you ask, face slightly flushed and side-eying her fingers pinching your cheek. “I was just a little hesitant, that’s all.”
“What’s there to be afraid about?” she asks, stepping closer to the edge where it was natural for you to circle your arms around her waist. Deliberate, but every action with her was just right without having to question yourself if you’re doing what she wants you to do. “I helped you with all of the things that I wanted you to do with me in this relationship.”
You sigh, “Not all things.”
Julie looks at you puzzled, head cocked to the side at the unknown mentioned. Knowing her, she’s quick enough to realize what was being implied without having to say it explicitly. Few seconds pass, humming, trying to let those nerve synapses do their work before eventually realizing what was running through your mind. “Ah,” she says, nodding along to your level of thinking. “If you wanted me to say that, then you should’ve.”
“What were you thinking?”
“You’re a terrible kisser.”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” you tease, scanning Julie’s eyes, her pert smile, the subtle lip bite you catch at the last second before hiding the lower half of her face with the oversized sleeve of the sweater.
It was the last thing that was necessary to do. You’re thinking of the test drive of that from the other day, how you just gave a weak peck of a kiss only to poorly play it off as being ‘not ready’. Julie assures you that it was okay, and you tried it again.
(The second time was a lot better. And, uh, it still needs more, hm-)
“If we really want to make this work,” you tell Julie, fingers clasped together behind the small of her back, gravitating her closer to your chest. Her hands are slithering around the back of your head and neck, “Best to have it done properly. No mistakes.”
Julie nods in agreement, reminded that she was the one who roped you in to do all of this for her. This facade could have some sort of meaning when it’s over, but for the moment you could see on her face that she was relieved. “Right, if you want the part, you have to own it.”
Her head dips down to yours, sealing the deal with a kiss, smiling at the improvement when you return it fantastically well. She pulls away with half-lidded eyes, and maybe this lip lock was the first of many, time can only share so much.
“Alright then,” she whispers against your lips, brushing against yours delicately, “that was a whole lot better.”
–
Aside from selling the act from nearly all of your friends, you kept it to yourself that this ‘relationship’ with Julie should’ve been real from the start. Though, you can’t even blame yourself for the idiot you’d become whenever Julie’s steamrolling into your personal space in between classes. If anything, even if they knew the thing was real or fake, they all took the hint of backing off to give you two the respected space whether it was intended to be actually authentic or not.
Even if you wanted to be discreet - which, more often than not, was the complete opposite - it did feel like they were invading your guys’s privacy if it was in the halls, in front of the door for her next class or yours, or even at parties to which everyone spread word that you couldn’t stand being a few seconds away from Julie - keeping yourself in close proximity unless she said otherwise.
(Like you’ve admitted; you’re an idiot for letting yourself be this way for Julie. You can't really help yourself when she’s so forward with wrapping arms all over, keeping herself magnetized with you before her going away was even in the picture. Laughing about silly things that others from the outside could never really comprehend what you and Julie talk about. Having conversations with her was incredibly easy; that, and along the hands on hands or hands on legs or arm on shoulder. Then there’s the loving gaze you’d give her - staring shamelessly and blatantly doing it with no problem at all as if it was the last few seconds you’d ever have, and it would be everything.
So. The ‘act.’)
Sometimes you’d completely forget the whole purpose as to why you’re even doing this thing with her in the first place, since it felt so natural. It’s typical for a high school romance, kissing with a reason behind it or without having one at all.
You’d do it to punctuate something, convince her to consider otherwise, lower your eyes and tilt your head, slot your lips with hers. If you were with anyone else besides her in this scenario; it would have the same effect, but wouldn’t hit your heart as hard as you wanted to. Julie would stare at you, nodding, understanding, having known that this cosmic binding was meant to stay that could transcend time itself - linking pinkies together, as an extension of your hearts being hitched together.
When she finally called the verbal agreement of the fake relationship off, you were certain that things would still stay the same between you two; which it did, of course, but she was open about the loving intentions you had for her, regardless if there was a label to it.
(You and her would hide away from others after that, still, just because the company with each other was better compared to your friends - no disrespect to them, of course. And all of those times of doing that - well, you made it known how you really felt about Julie without saying it. The kissing was there as a plus, remember?)
–
The point still stands: you remember all of it. You expected Julie to be the same; hoping to shield the feeling of her leaving with every intent as possible until the clock would eventually reach zero. It was never a part of the conversation, but the weight hung heavy even if you or her mentioned was coming to pass.
You’ve learned to drop such expectations - much like taking things with a very small grain of salt, because any solid assumption would only lead to thoughts that would only crumble you from the inside out. The more blanks you have, the better.
Delusion might be one thing, blindly falling in love was a shot in the dark to your own admission, but that silly idea of ‘she fell first, he fell harder?’; come to think of it, it might’ve been put in writing long ago and it all circles back without any single warning at all.
This is what people realize about Julie, and you were the first person to know of this: she always breaks through other’s expectations.
She’s an ever changing current of some form that could only be described as groundbreaking. Pushing boundaries of standards to new horizons. A highlight that was destined to shine brighter given the right tools and exposure to let her do that one simple thing that she’s good at, being herself.
Miles ahead of everyone, never wanting to look back. And there’s you, falling slightly behind from her, on purpose - because watching her take on the world was something that you could handle for as long as you lived in the same space with her. Distant, but not far. The small thread of imaginary rope in your head clinching onto the fact that she’ll see you for you, and maybe the labels could all be sorted out in due time.
“And here we were,” she begins, arms out to the sides like gliding on air. She’s in your varsity jacket, in trade for the unfinished ice cream in your left hand, nursing it for yourself while she’s elevating herself on planters or benches; anything to bring joy with the simple things no matter how silly it was. “Feels so good to finally be home for a quick minute.”
It’s a little bit late, the light posts are on, wind gusting through the small park where you’ve shared countless memories when you and Julie were kids. Everything around the place is timeless, only replaced with a few renovations scattered here and there around the area, but still the same. She’s alongside the railing, the other side a calm river housing scattered sounds of crickets and cicadas.
On the opposite end, was your mom’s SUV with the back parked in. Some fine luck that they made a space to be near that big old tree with enough branches and leaves to serve as shade when the sun hits the highest point in the sky. Despite the darkness, you liked it compared to the daytime, whereas Julie was the inverse.
“Does anyone know?” You stop short when she turns around, hands pocketed in that lent jacket. “You, being here. On vacation if this was your plan for a while now.”
“Well yeah,” she responds, approaching closer with her mouth open while you spoon feed her another bite of butterscotch from the small cup, pulling lips inward to clean any remains of the desert. “Sure, I could’ve gone anywhere else to have time off, but I chose to come here. Decided that it would be a good thing to come and see everyone after so long.”
You nod at that, admiring the reason. Hiding that small tug in your heart that should be small enough to not notice.
Julie knows you better than yourself sometimes, and she can see from your eyes that you’re trying to go beyond what's being said.
She steps forward, because she can, and you’re not against that. This is where she thrived back then: doing everything to make you uncomfortable. And yeah, it was very simple for her to do back then in high school; the little gesture she does with her shoulders and scrunching face to let you know that she’s won. Putting up with her antics was one thing, but it was nothing that you can’t handle - practicing all of the little tricks and quirks to perfection in the hopes of holding your own if it ever happened again, just like now.
“Look at you,” you chuckle, “always on some form of borrowed time.”
She steps closer, hand out to guide yours with the empty cup of ice cream, setting it on the stone adjacent from you two.
You’re not sure who’s really in control of who in this current moment. All of this was led on from the continuation of bouncing stories between your work life and hers, the details of people in your corporate circle commensurating a string of complaints and drama that you’re not all invested in, but kept an open pair of ears for them just out of the goodness of your solid gold heart. Julie also spills her fair share of things that she’s done, telling all with that maddening grin of hers, the way her cheeks elevate at the pull of her lips, how her eyes draw this curve that hides the irises while you could see the gums beyond her teeth. The low glow of the light post casts this in bronze, the timeless features you’ve seen countless times, in all of its glory.
“Do you remember,” she prompts, closing the distance once more with her chest slightly puffed up, shoulders rounded back and relaxed, hands still in the pockets of your jacket she’s borrowing. “About that time where we posed as a fake couple back in high school?”
“All because you couldn’t take the fact that everyone wanted you back then?”
“Maybe say it a little better than that,” Julie muses, nudging your elbow to keep on teasing, “You’re within the ballpark, however.”
“Right.”
Julie smirks, mixing a noise between a soft laugh and sigh, looking up dutifully with those doe eyes. “God,” she says, studying your stoic expression, “even now, you’re still the same after all we did.”
This might be a double-edged sword of words, a back-handed compliment if you’re going to dissect the linguistic skeleton. That old rhyme of ‘stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’, has never been more true than now. You remain unfazed, smirking, staring. The wind suddenly picks up where it sweeps Julie’s stray strands of hair in front of her face.
You can’t help but giggle at the way she leans down with a small squeal, hands covering the top of her head to prevent any mess caused by the natural course of nature. Helping her stand up straight, your fingertips sweep those tousled strands, smoothening them to eventually make it look more presentable, not giving any care with how your hands are cupping her face.
Her question pops up in your head again: about how all of this seems familiar. Feeling the small pull of tension in the air when you gaze into her eyes again - filled with a longing that was tucked away, radiating with sparkles that shouldn’t even look real, but they are. You’re trying to think, and yet, “Maybe. You could be right. And you being here with me like this tells me exactly everything that I need to know.”
“Really.” Julie coos, dimples deepening, “Would you like to elaborate on this?”
“I think you can explain that a whole lot better than me.”
She nods her head, raising a hint of suspicion with an eyebrow, “You think?”
“I know,” you respond. Guilty as charged, she played you this entire time, and somewhere along the lines of accepting it the best way, “Well, you know too.”
Thousands of miles apart, decimating that to the single digits, now being mere inches apart - closing in like before; and maybe you were just falling into an old habit the way you pull her face towards yours. Something like this takes practice, could honestly come off as a natural action at this moment: you kissing her, like it was meant to happen. You could never forget all the times she made you feel like this. Only difference is, she’s slipping through the cracks along with you.
Julie tugs herself closer to you, trying to mend her body into yours; becoming one. She’s ballooning more into the press of your lips before shying away, shrinking, hands moving from your elbows straight up to the nape of your neck. One of your hands snake to the smallest point of her back, holding her curving spine steady, not letting up the exchange of her intoxicating air passing through your mouth and nose - it only has you feening for more.
And she hums this sound, low and deep, firing impulses within you that will take nearly every bit of brainpower left to resist.
“Juls,” you murmur softly, pulling away for a slight second, feeling the clutch of her hands around the fabric of your sweater-
All of that attention is zeroed in on this transcendent sound that she makes, sealing it with your lips again, all needy and deprived and in desperate want that would literally kill you on the spot. She’s willing to take you away, devour every bit because she will, and you’d be okay with that.
“You have–” she gasps, “no idea.” Dear Lord, she’s breaking by the instant - pulling herself back with your fingers tangled in her hair. The moonlight towering over illuminates this glow on her skin, basking in it while you’re giving her this same look of endearment that you’ve had for most of your life. You might be deserving of it, she could say otherwise; maybe it’s one of fate’s tricks blessing you for once.
“You do remember.” Playing into Julie’s mind game, falling into the sinking temptation that she’s unknowingly doing over you. It feels tense, but at the same time it doesn’t. “And here I was beginning to wonder if you’d forget everything–”
“Trust me,” she tells you, hand ghosting over the length of your collarbone while yours reels her small body closer. By the neck, she pulls you to close the distance. “My memory is just as good as yours.”
(Oh, and it’s how you’re reminded again and again: at how Julie is one half of your brain - a perfect compliment to you for so many years. No one even comes close, and some have tried; they could never get you like she does.)
“I want you,” Julie’s soft voice twists your ears right back. “Fuck, I’m only gonna say this one more time: I need you.”
You probably don’t recall the number of things you dreamed of hearing, but this might be one of them. It’s not a question or an answer, nor a quote said intrusively. If anything, this was the green light you’ve been waiting for; there’s just only one thing left to do then.
–
Forgetting Julie was always going to be an impossibility.
When a girl like her has her face in literally everywhere that you could imagine: in photoshoots, brand events, social media engagements; the magic of being famous really transforms one’s landscape if they can break the threshold - which she has, and in one way or another - she could never hide away from the bright lights.
Except at a time like this, you’re glad the darkness envelops both of you.
“Mmph.”
Your vision is focusing in blanks, searching for something, fixated on the silhouette of your hand floating over Julie’s head, slowly bobbing down along your length, lips wrapped tight around your cock and her tongue sweeping the grooves along the underside; the ligaments at the knees are way past the possible bending point where you could take them, hips forward while this girl is laid flat on her stomach with the trunk open, and you’re also thinking: who in the actual fuck would be out walking this late in the night to see this form of public indecency? She stops halfway, shakes her head side-to-side, coaxing the head on both sides of her inner cheeks, humming with every intent of praise at how good your cock tastes in her mouth.
“Fuck,” you rasp, letting your head fall slack backwards, smoothening Julie’s silky hair when she pulls back up, teeth grazing the tip that has you let out a pathetic groan. “You’re so good at that.”
“Mmmmh.”
The pop she makes off the head is sinister, and you’re already imagining the smile she has spread across her lips, swiping her tongue across to make them more wet than it already is. She’s giving you a hard time to think straight, and you’re still blown away with how forward she was into blowing you, not wanting to waste a minute before you and her could even make it back to the house.
“How are you holding up?” She asks innocently, seeing the hint of her honey amber eyes dart at you while her wrist is giving a wandering tug up the length, tensing up every fiber in your lower back to keep it there.
“Do you really want me to give you an answer?” And Julie chuckles at the flex of your thigh when she runs her fingernails over it.
Julie then gets back right to work, enveloping your cock into that sweltering heat of her mouth, coaxing it in all the ways you’ve fantasized before - grunting and exhaling spells of air when she dives down deep, deeper, massaging the head with her slick throat - all the way before putting a ring with her thumb and index finger at the base, practically purring at the constant rhythm she’s doing on you, to get you undone.
Your stomach does this funny little twitch, like a punch to the gut once her hand finally gets to dance along the shaft, stroking along the slick surface while her mouth services a fresh supply of wetness swirling all over. She hums in approval when you take matters into your own hands, wrapping two fingers across the bottom of your cock while she’s happily bobbing her head along the length, picking up a consistent rhythm of spit and dribbles coming out of her mouth, pushing you towards that breaking point, sliding her plump lips across the tip before swirling back in, hollowed cheeks, your eyes slightly rolling back, vision swimming, hunting for a way to stay conscious.
And the only subjective thing you’re inclined to do, not like there’s any other option for anything else, is to just let her have it. You’ll cum for her, all over her pretty face, and have her slip your cock back into her mouth to make you cum again in a few minutes flat. She knows that it feels good for you, there’s no doubt about it; how you can see her eyes with the occasional glow of your phone going off to break light, glaring at you with every intent of swallowing you.
“Paint my face baby.” Julie whispers. It’s not a proposition, she wants it to be set in existence, “your cock is so pent up for me, all you have to do is just let go.”
“Christ-”
That’s what pretty much sets you off.
Your shaft is molten around your hand, cockhead pressed agasint Julie’s perfect lips, hips jolting in quick pulses; you also might’ve heard your kneecaps crack a bit in the dead silence, three thick threads of cum landing on the curves of her cheeks, hearing her hum in content. Her mouth opens to let the next few shots of release settle into their new warm home, head wrapped around that opening, riding out the last bits of sensation as you’re draining everything all over her face and in her mouth. The overhanging light for the trunk switches on with what remains of your spent energy, catching that smug grin when she’s resting your cock on her cheek, parting lips open with a small dribble of cum leaking from the slit still, to which she licks with her tongue on the underside while having her eyes still trained on you. She’s all blissed out, irises focusing and unfocusing - almost cross-eyed; and just like before, you’re captured around her little spell once again.
A few seconds later and she’s wiping the damage from her face, licking it up from her fingers - fondly taking in the sweetness of your cum on her tongue while feeling out her jaw again, trying to internalize the feeling of your dick filling her slutty little mouth. She won’t forget it, and neither will you.
“You taste good,” she mumbles after getting up on her knees, ducking slightly so that her head doesn’t hit the roof of the car, “y’know, if that wasn’t already obvious enough.”
“Decorum, Julie.” You tell her, straightening your legs out for what felt like an eternity. “Thanks,” you follow up, “I do try my best with my own things.”
Julie lets out a snort, wiping her lips with any lasting remains of her drool mixed with your cum, “Jackass. Always so stuck up for being an ass.”
“You just said ass in the same sentence twice,” you comment, propping yourself on elbows to where Julie leans down across the width of your chest, towering over you.
She leans lower while your head bumps the backseat, face nearly centimeters away from yours, hearing and feeling the needy breath against your lips when your hand skates up her waist, teasing with a fingertip before you lightly clutch her back, allowing her to fall down and kiss you.
She’s not far away from you now, but instead right here in your arms. This is progress; good progress and maybe even better. You can barely see the hickeys along the column of her throat in the darkness - something that you’ll revisit to make her revel in the feeling of your mouth over them, a get back of sorts in trade for giving what she wants.
“I hate how you’re such a smartass.” Juile tells you while pulling away. But hey, at least she’s saying that with a smile.
–
The whole town gets slapped with inclement weather throughout the week.
And yeah, you’re pretty much giving your phone screen or laptop or even the television that no one really uses around the house a dirty look when you see the consistent set of numbers with the picture of a few clouds mixed with rain at the bottom of them. Though, it doesn’t really make sense for it to rain when the weather was nice for once up till now. The percentages of rainfall were particularly high, especially around this time of year which typically means: hey man, it would be best to just stay inside, maybe catch up on some of those books you’ve been putting off for quite a while because of school. You could also use this ample time to finally get that story also, get some words in while the thoughts are fresh, or something like that. A third option would be calling Julie, since as it turns out, her parents are gone - which also means she’s home alone, and whatever you do with that piece of information is entirely up to you. So what’s it gonna be? Besides, you still need answers as to what your current dilemma is with her relationship-wise, and ignoring the fact that she feels the same way should be ringing alarms in your head as it is.
You could curse your mom or bless her, because she gave you a favor to do by going to her house to drop a few things off.
One worrying drive later in the wet darkness, and a well managed job to beat the unrelenting rain before it got worse, you’re at her doorstep knocking. The steady thrums of the droplets hitting the roof before the knob clicks and the hinges creak open. She lets you in with no hesitation, patting your wet hair while you’re tending your soaked jacket to the coat hanger.
“Didn’t your mom say that it was a good idea to wait until this storm lets up?” Julie asks, walking ahead to the living room while carrying one of two bags that you brought over, contents being various snacks and clothes that you were willing to give to her since you hardly ever wore them. “Thanks for bringing my favorites for me,” she beams happily, “I haven't had these in a long while.”
“Managed to get them a day before today,” you tell her, trailing along her pathing where the space in the house opens up more. “I thought the forecast said less than 40% of rain would come.”
“You still believe in what they say on the news?”
“Not all the time, but it’s good to stay informed.”
Julie steps away into the kitchen while you plop down on the couch, leaning your head back on the cushion while the sound of plastic rustling fills your ears. Few moments later, she comes back with a sizable bowl of pretzels, placing it on the table before she goes and gets two bottles of water; which you scoff at first but appreciate the simplicity of maintaining a healthy diet.
You and her pick up right where you left off. Talking about anything and everything that was worth it in terms of interesting topics. The television has one of those random sitcoms provided on the streaming service after trying to search for one for about five minutes or so, feeding each other occasionally while trying to hold in laughs while staring at each other.
“How long have you had that color?” Gesturing with a head pat to yourself while Julie downs the lasting remnants of what’s in her cup. She gives you this gaze with the clack of the glass on the table, leveling her gaze with you - the low glow from the tv serving as the prominent source of light, catching the smallest sweep of her hair right at the ends, tilting her head to match yours in curiosity.
“For about a month. And honestly,” she breathes, “I was pretty skeptical about choosing this color in the first place,” she adds, pulling her knees closer to her chest, “but I guess you could say that I was convinced to try it out.”
You purse your lips, reaching over the the near empty bowl of crackers while Julie is holding in a laugh, offering the other half to her with an outreaching hand - to which she leans over with an open mouth, happily receiving the remains on her mouth while you’re alternating glances from the screen to her.
“By the way, my parents actually just went out to visit my grandparents,” she adds, realizing that shere was a missing set of keys from the pot where you set yours past the front door; not to mention the two vacant spots on the shoe rack where they would usually be. “So I guess it’s just us alone here if the storm doesn’t let up.”
And by some comedic timing, you get a text on your phone. Basically it just says from your mom to stay over at Julie’s for the night, after getting news of the road being unsafe to drive with the rain as the cause of one or two accidents already.
(You might consider yourself lucky; but what good would that serve since you’ve already put yourself miles ahead of the competition in getting with Julie?)
“If this is some form of good news,” you tell her, showing the message bubble from the phone screen, to which she unleashes this gummy smile, understanding by that cosmic connection you two have built together that doesn’t really need a logical explanation. “I think you’re in good company for tonight at least.”
Julie then leans forward. No- she launches herself at you while you and her were sitting along the bottom of the couch, playing along by letting her weight collapse on top. You pay no attention to how her arms hook around your neck, but you do focus on the press of her lips to your cheek; it’s honestly worth sharing a laugh at her nestling into the groove along your neck and collarbone, patting her back to let her know that you’re also happy with staying.
There’s this odd silence, to where she pulls away. You could also hear the faint sound of whatever sitcom was on the screen to provide a calm ambience. It’s appalling to how beautiful she looks without any makeup on, hand mindlessly clutching onto her oversized sweater to where she tenses up on impulse - almost unsure at first, only to grab your wrist soon after.
“I’ve been wondering,” she prompts, face upright while you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “how come you and I never made anything official between us?”
“What do you mean?” you blindly ask. “I thought I made myself obvious enough about how I feel about you.”
“You were,” she responds, inching her body closer towards yours. “Though, it hasn’t crossed my mind before recently, when we–”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re not weirded out about it?”
Anything that you say from this point on would only solidify your case. You’ve always wanted the idea of Juile being all to yourself, despite her being big enough for everyone else to get a wanting chance at her too. This realization came to you on a random day, probably, when you’re just going along with your day before you suddenly dropped whatever you were doing - staring off into the distance because at the end of it: you’ve fucked yourself head over heels for her from the start.
“I wanted-” your words get caught up behind the tongue while Juile’s fingers are branching out to your shirt.
“You sound unsure about something.” Her voice is laced with mischief, teasing.
“-to talk about last time, and even if we do bring it up, you know- us,” you add with a raised hand with hers, “I just hope that it’s not a one time thing.”
“It’s not.” she tells you, face pouting with scrunched brows. “You worry too much sometimes, even back in high school, you were always like that.”
She’s not wrong, but also, she’s right for calling you out.
“I could just leave right now if it makes you feel better.” You start to stand up from the floor, only to be stopped by Julie’s tighter grip on your hand, causing you to freeze for a moment.
“I’m just glad,” her shoulders rise and fall with the pressure mounted on top of them finally lifted from whatever was plaguing her, “That after all this time: you still stayed for me.”
It’s just like that other time, and you’re catching her train of thought faster than the words can come out of her mouth. This wasn’t something to think twice about - if you don’t take the second golden chance fallen at your lap, it’ll be a lasting regret filling the back of your mind once she goes back to the world that she created for herself.
“You know.” She tells you, with that endearing grin of hers, filled with so much of everything that has you fractured from within, because she doesn't need to say anything else. “You know all too well for me anyway.”
A hesitating shuffle of your butt across the hardwood, you’re scooching closer to her, lowering eyelids, hand trailed to the nape of Julie’s neck until you and her make ends meet. In an instant, she’s suddenly reformed into this being of wanting, need, someone who will let you have their way over them.
She pulls away panting, you give her another kiss to the jaw. “Funny, how the tables have turned.” You tell her, twisting your head to the opposite end before she meets your lips again - this time a little more hectic, hands grasping along the fabric of your shirt, almost peeling it off at the first go.
“C’mon now,” says Juile, hand underneath to your stomach before trailing down to the waistband of your pants, “Don’t make me change my mind like last time.”
–
Here’s a silly thing: upon arriving, Julie suggested that it would be a good idea for you to sleep in her room (and in this case, it has happened before; way too many times to be exact, gossiping about nonsense or cramming material at the last minute the night before a big test. Another funny memory to recall.) She teases that it’s nothing for you to be worried about, and it's not like you were going anywhere else for tonight.
Instead, you insisted on using the guest room that she has, but here’s the funny part; you and her don’t actually make it back up to her bedroom anyway.
The harmony of a laugh she lets out when you slip your shirt off of your frame, catching her staring for a few seconds too long - biting her lip and some of her index finger, she can’t help but be in awe. A new, fit, and refined look that replaces the scrawny and nimble image that you somewhat hated for the longest time - towering over her on the cushions of the couch, helping her slide out of that oversized shirt to see a white sports bra - sweatpants soon after with a matching set. You’re nicking your head to the side in disbelief, eyes overloaded with the image straight out of your fantasies - only this time now to be all too real.
“Holy shit,” you breathe, unable to blink while you get a hand on her hips, off to the right where there’s a small tattoo - an anchor, grazing your thumb over to see if that was also another secret she kept from you (from everyone, for that matter) - there’s also her impossibly slim waist, her luscious thighs, the definite line down the middle where her abs are at. This could be another win in your year of success, and then again, no one else but you gets to see her like this.
“Got something to say?” Julie asks, smirking with her head slightly tilted back, up on elbows, “They do say that girls are breathtakingly beautiful wearing white.”
A click of your tongue, not willing to argue with that take, because she’s right. It’s within the lines of superiority, giving someone the respect that they deserve. She could have it, but she also likes it when you don’t even think of giving her that kind of luxury. “My mouth has a lot more things to say than just words,” you tell her, the pair of hands sliding up to the tight elastic resting underneath her breasts.
“Care to share what you’ll do to me?”
You get rid of that annoying sports bra, for starters - hands filling up with the supple size of her breasts, fast to wrap around her upper back while you’re peppering the new territory with kisses all over, her head falling back even more to open up and let you ravage and mark and the tens of other things that you’ll get your chance on, eventually.
She’s heaving with shaky breaths, not wanting your lips to leave her body the more you indulge in her perfect skin. Nails are quick to dig into your back, slightly, and it’ll just add on from there. The levels of touching, holding, kissing, and the anticipatory downright fucking you’ll give her soon enough-
“Am I on the right track for you so far?” you ask, quick to get your lips on hers while she’s shrinking into a whimpering mess into the couch.
Julie has managed her good graces for so long now, and you’ve played the waiting game. No matter how long it took, it might be a gamble with your feelings for not being able to move on - it was possible then, but as of this moment, you already made your decision.
“You’re the fucking worst,” she pants, a loosely planted hand that slides off when there’s the press of your thigh against her clothed pussy, feeling her legs sandwich you in between to prolong the wanting feeling. “I’ve been wanting- waiting for so long.”
“Really now?” you say, voice filled with heat when you help her slide out of her sporty bottoms, finally cutting the last line of caution tape. A quick look down - and her cunt is there, in all of its glory - slightly glistening at the lips and primed for what’s to come. You’re surprised at how wet she is, even more surprised when she grabs your wrist to get your fingers alongside her aching slit; a small hiss of air passing through her teeth inward while you're spreading her little by little. “We’re a little ahead here aren’t we?”
“Fuck- please,” Julie spits out, eyes scrunching shut while you press a finger in to asses, and she’s practically liquid down there. She’s acting completely different from earlier - failing terribly to keep composure - but she’s just as infectious as she always is. “You don’t think I know the amount of times you’ve yanked one out while thinking of me? Believe me, I know.”
“I didn’t say anything about it.” you reply, thumb lightly pressing against her clit while your middle finger curls a bit inside her, feeling her hips shoot upward off the cushion. You’re also doing everything in resisting the urge in the growing bulge in your pants, to ignore how badly it’s throbbing for you to snap and get yourself acting exactly how she wants to fuck till one of you goes dumb; cock drunk or pussy drunk, it’ll end in those one or two ways. “But it’s true: I want you also.”
Julie just mewls at your fingers, clenching around them, that forces a soft chuckle out of you. This was the first time that she’s losing her patience, and you’re going to milk the hell out of this moment for as long as you can.
“Don’t be-” she’s rambling with an open mouth, blinking fast, “Don’t be a bitch. Everyone knows that I wanted you for so fucking long.”
Well what do ya know? She would be the one to cut the wire and jump on the grenade between the both of you in confessing. There are very little things kept secret with her, some things you might’ve forgotten along the way, but you’ll keep this in your mind for as long as you live.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pressing your lips together while you slide your fingers out of her, the squelching sound vile for your ears to register. Hands are quick to meet her hips, scooching closer with a pull, to where her ass meets the top of your thighs. “Yeah.”
“Need it,” she pleads, “Need your cock inside of me.”
You’ve managed to get your sweats off in record time, pressing her legs up to where her heels are facing the ceiling. These feelings from embers that were supposed to die out years ago, but they never did, and this dirty act serves as a testament of everything you’ll put out on the table - for her. It’ll be shown in her swollen lips, the trail of hickeys scattered across her body, down to the crimson marks from your hands holding on for too long. Consider this a long shot in a stroke of luck - because no one will know her like you do.
And when you’re doing this steady approach of rubbing the head of your cock, against her aching cunt, waiting to be filled - you don’t even think twice about it at all. There’s this relief, washing over; almost in reverence to being dipped in holy water through the baptism ritual, feeling her walls slide all over the length of your cock. There’s also this shared ache, the mirrored rise of both your chest and shoulders. Once the ache finally subsides, you just stay inside her for a second.
“You–” and albeit you’re at a loss of words also; Julie’s face writhes, grasping for both of your hands secured past the middle, keeping her in place. The limitless amount of things that you’ll get your way in: mouth fast to her neck? You’ll do it. Pin her against the armrest of the couch with her ass up, or maybe have her do the work in bouncing back, and she will. Managing your cock fully inside her tight hole was good to settle with for now, “This fucking cunt, Juls–”
She sucks her stomach in, mouth now slackened, the utterances and noises that she unleashes would never hold up in an interview if they gave her the opportunity to speak her mind as she pleases. But she’s not caught up in the city and it’s stars; instead, she’s with you, on her couch, in her house, taking your- “Baby,” it’s really sweet how she keeps up with the pet name, “fuck, fuck, fuck- I can’t with your- your cock is - that’s so deep, holy fucking shit-”
You’re pretty much slightly drunk at how well she wraps around your cock, crying without fail. The octaves rising up with every hit back in, and she’s absolutely knocked. It won’t stop with the wash of rain hitting the window panes, feeling the rising heat between you two grow gradually larger, fixated on the extremely tight vice she has over you, and you’ll take that as a gift.
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” your voice drags lowly, upping the ante the more you carve your cock into her, the tight hotness becoming more and more addicting by the minute. Julie was always an advocate for showing confidence in her looks, and it shows: in her pictures, the way she flaunts around that has everyone’s jaws dropped to the floor, all angles and good sides of her - behind closed doors, you’ll make sure that no one will see this version of her.
(And in a way, you do get it, you’ve understood the script written in your head now that you finally have the feelings fully reciprocated, and claiming this girl as yours would only be the start of it.)
When you’ve finally pushed her over, screaming, that’s the only cue you’ll ever need to keep breaking her.
“Please, please, please-”
“Tell me all about it, hm?”
Julie grins with her eyes squinting barely open, gasping out some form of a declaration.
“You’re, fuck- fuck me,” the air between you clashes with the contrast of warmth from the bodies - the coolness of the air conditioning filling the room, only for it to be backdrafted. Her flawless face is amazing to look at, leaning up for you to dip down and kiss her, hands still fast to her hips, her back arches with a slight lean back, trying to keep the motion going with every stroke and grind and touch you have over her. She’s getting close, you can feel it in the addicting clench, and you’re almost at your wit’s end.
“Needed me for so long, hmm?” you ask, smiling against the hot surface of her porcelain features, “then cum baby, all over this dick. I know you want to.”
She mumbles, something close to a string of ‘yeses’, and her whole body trembles.
It’s filthy, gross, impure, sloppy, pushing deep; angling past the trench to a euphoric feeling that she’ll only demand from you. The way that your hips slap against the bottom of her thighs, grasping her hips and across the supple skin the more you fuck through her orgasm. In some way, this was your get back for what she did to you in the back of the SUV that night, needing little to no words to punctuate the lovely sounds of her hitching breaths with every stroke back into her wet, tight cunt. Her grip on your wrists goes deathly, clenching you the same way her pussy does on your cock, and she’s still stuttering - the whimpers and whines the only serviceable words she can only speak while you groan in slamming her deeper into the couch.
There’s really no room for a margin of error, every drive back into her only gets you closer to that edge, and while she’s reduced to nothing less but a piliant puddle of mush from the head down, you unbury yourself, fist wrapped around the length of your shaft when you finally release your hot, sticky load all over the fine canvas of her midriff. Covering her - over her chest and waist, all fucked out silly and just laid out to immerse in the ropes of cum spread out across, soaking her.
“You- you,” Julie sputters out, while you have a hand off to the left side of her head, barely supporting yourself with what little energy left in not toppling over her nimble body. “Oh my god. Oh my god?”
You’re still riding on that high, finally letting your body go slack when you meet her lips again. She moans in content, how her tongue clashes against yours, trying to power its way through into your mouth. Pulling on the bottom of her swollen lip, just to be a tease, “Julie,” you mumble, breath grazing against her cheek, smiling. That same lip wobbles a bit, an implication that she’s still processing what just happened, aside from the shaky breaths and unfocused eyes. “Baby.”
A lazy smile brightens up her whole image. Her eyes are fluttered shut, but her lips and the faintest tip of her ears tell a different tale entirely. It’s the same smile you fell in love with since seeing it the first time, it never gets old.
“I love it when you say ‘baby’,” she starts with a soft tone, gentle, tender. “You have no idea how bad my head spins when you say those things to me.”
Through the small pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window panes and the roof tiles, you think to yourself at how this moment should never end. The present moment like now will be ingrained into your brain for as long as you’ll move on with living. “I think.” you say with a whisper, laying your body over her - kissing her cheeks, her forehead, feeling her hands slide up the well defined muscles on your back. She tries to hide away, putting her head off to the side, and you’ll get the top of her neck too. Anything for her to finally have you, it’ll be a fair transaction. “I do.”
“Tell me more?”
“I’m just glad you didn’t forget about the many things that I’ve already put myself out for you.” you tell her, and she nods in agreement. The interlink between you two has never been stronger than ever, and this moment will just solidify it.
–
You’re scouring through the fridge and cupboards for something substantial to satisfy your spontaneous midnight cravings. There’s actually a load of different options; a wide variety of chips and snacks in the pantry. In terms of drinks, not much for you to work with - and a glass of water or milk would be good enough to take since it wouldn’t be much longer until you’ll eventually fall asleep.
Unless you're Julie, who’s standing next to you in the kitchen while you’re assessing her foods (still naked along with you, by the way), licking off some of your cum off her stomach slowly, a stray finger trailing up your waist since some of it did get on you as well.
It also doesn’t help how she’s sucking on her fingers shamelessly - hollowing her cheeks, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue that will only put your head in a downward spiral. She’s massively fucked for doing that, with those cat-like eyes she has - but dude, you’re still staring at her.
“Can you like-” you nick your head off to the side, diverting your attention away from her to lock on the same open bag of half-full pretzels she put in the bowl when you first came in, deciding to settle with that but pulling it out onto the edge of the counter. “Do you really have to do that in front of me?”
“Doing what?” she asks you innocently, almost stupidly. She’s wetting her bottom lip, and man is she evil for doing that continuously. “It’s not my fault that you came so much. My pussy is just that amazing for you.”
Oh, fuck her. Seriously.
She’s back to her chirpy, bubbly vibe with that tone in her voice, the witty remarks also came back in full force. Your brain is probably in overload mode with how she’s blinking sweetly, smiling all knowingly like she usually does. It’s a longshot that you’ll draw this up to be a one-time thing, let alone be a golden chance done by your work single-handedly. Within these walls and as long as she’s with you, everything about it just feels right in its place.
“You’re such an asshole,” you breathe, closing the door to the fridge with a quarter-full bottle of orange juice, Julie getting ahead with two empty glasses ready on the counter. Everything that she does even if it’s the simplest of tasks is undeniably attractive for some reason; no matter if it’s her on the balls of her feet, reaching the cupboard or walking past you with the sway in her hips, one thing does settle back into your mind: she’s here, and that’s pretty much all that matters at this point. “I should give you a napkin to wipe off the stains on your abs.”
“Or I could just keep on licking it off while you pour me a glass.” She muses, tilting her head up while you kiss the crown of her head, pulling a few lazy strands of hair to the side, “Why did it take us forever to finally do that? I mean, and here I thought that you would be a little more underwhelming with your moves in bed.”
“You mean the couch, Juls. C’mon. Let me remind you that you’re the one who went and kissed me first.”
“And the things that you said about dreaming to fuck me actually came true,” she laughs, lightly clinking the rim of her glass with yours before sharing a nice, homey drink together. “All of those jokes about you and the guys wanting a chance with me, well guess what, you’re the winning contestant that blew away the competition.”
Side-eyeing her, you press your back to the fridge, she’s standing on the opposite end, legs crossed together - mirroring your posture, she’ll match whatever energy you give her, knowing that you’ll always do the same. This could be some silly pairing of toothbrush to toothpaste, and despite the difference in lifestyles, how your lines of successes came at different times, it seems that the parallel line you drew between you and her long ago finally reached a crossroads, which is a good thing, of course.
“The girls also said the same thing,” she tells you, “about how out of everyone in our circle of friends, it was somehow going to end up with us being together.”
You take that with a grain of salt, unsure if what she was saying was true or not. But she knows that she’s right; you took the realization first before she did - since she’s usually stubborn in some cases and won’t listen until it finally hits her, but it took her long enough. All of those rumors back in school and the whole skit of you posing with her may be a tipping point, but after putting yourself through that with her, a part in your head was always confident that she’d see what you’re seeing.
“Maybe they saw it first before you did,” you say, pulling her by the arm and into your space, feeling her arms circle around your waist while you’re rubbing her shoulder. “I’ve always been like this.”
“You got there first,” she replies coyly, tilting your head down for another meaningful kiss, “Blame me for being oblivious.”
–
Turns out that Julie’s parents came back to the house first thing in the morning. Well, they’re pretty relieved that you came over and stayed the night even with the weather going absolutely crazy over the past few hours, telling you about how one of the old trees came down blocking the road and cutting off access in some areas of the town. They didn’t bother to ask about the obvious marks spread across her neck and yours, and the bite mark on your wrist was also a small concern to be worried slightly - uh, you’ll talk to the girl regarding that later.
As for the present situation in terms of appearance while breakfast was made, you’re wearing one of her shirts that was blindly pulled from the closet before instantly passing out soon after. In all honesty, Julie liked how cute you looked with that stupid Hello Kitty graphic across your chest, but it was still a good laugh.
“She could’ve given me one of your shirts,” you tell her dad, passing a plate with half a stack of pancakes soaked in syrup, “Though, my clothes were already drenched from the rain and all.”
“I would’ve been fine with it,” her dad says, “Would’ve been better to get you changed out and not keep you in your own clothes for the night.”
“He knows that I steal from your closet as it is. He’s also crazy if I was gonna have him walking around the palace in one of your shirts, dad.” Julie butts in, bumping your shoulder while her parents are drinking in the sight of their daughter getting along so well with you like it’s old times. They’ve treated you as if you were one of their own, and it goes the same way whenever Julie stays over at your place. Even as kids, staying over and waiting for the other to pick you or her up was always the usual gig. Julie’s parents saw you as someone who is very easygoing, only to be chained to their daughter till the point where separating you two was a stupid decision. You could also assume that they even talked to her about the whole relationship stuff, and they’d be supportive of it, and marriage wouldn’t even be an issue to get around with.
“Will you be busy this summer?” Julie’s mom asks, breaking all the stories from past years in the kitchen. “You finished school and everything, right?”
“I did,” you answer, feeling Juile’s arm on your shoulder, pulling your head towards hers to wipe off a small patch of syrup stuck on your bottom lip with her finger. “Not supposed to start my new job for another few weeks or so.”
Julie’s mom hums in excitement, “Look at you, all grown up and getting your life together in the real world. Like your parents, we’re also proud of you too. Julie especially.”
You gawk at Julie comically, earning a side-eye from her before she playfully slaps your shoulder in retaliation. Both of her parents let out another laugh while you’re veering your face away from her hands. She puts a leg on top of yours on the seat, subconsciously palming it while feeding you another piece of pancake from your plate. “I really appreciate you guys, and I don’t think I could ever express that enough.”
“And you have already.” Julie agrees, openly kissing your cheek while you’re internally breaking down for a slight second soon after. That assumption about her parents being super supportive if you and her finally made it official - well, that was most certainly the case when the both of them nod in approval towards you and her.
“Your parents love me, and we most definitely love you.” Julie says, and you’ve never been more reassured or comfortable about anything in your life.
–
Everything falls into the same sense of normalcy like it was before. Some days you’re spending your time at her place, and on other days she’s over at your place. And in between those days where it’s just you and her together, it’s replaced with the sporadic rotation of hangouts with old friends and colleagues who got wind that Julie’s now a mainstay (just for the summer, in case you forgot).
Some of your friends also tell you and Julie about their insights about the same stories, all while sharing a few bites of appetizers and circling drinks until one of you guys play the silly idea of putting all your credit cards on the table for the waiter to pick a lucky winner at random to pay for the whole meal.
Not long after, the small party migrates from the restaurant to one of your friend’s houses, where the drinks seem to keep on coming it feels like - being a bit buzzed on the couch while your eardrums are pounding from the somewhat acceptable cover of whatever song they blindly picked from the song book. You’re a little out of it, but still conscious enough to have another sip of water as the viable substitute, words loosely slurred but still discernible to be fine with.
That is, until Juile is heaving out on your arm, leaning over away from the couch, laughing about some funny memory that happened back in high school - it’s also worth mentioning: she’s drunk, and also a lightweight. You could also look back at the apparent irony that she wouldn’t go all out with the alcohol before entering the restaurant, but here she is - completely lost in the plot at this kickback.
“You’re gonna throw up if you lean forward like that.” you tell her, holding her up by the shoulders to correct her posture, some hair is also in her face and you part it off to the side with the instinctual thumb rub on her cheek.
“Did you tell everyone here that you and I finally fucked?” she slurrily spits out, causing everyone in the group within the close proximity of the couch to be in a collective state of shock, though, that’s quickly dissipated with you confirming everyone’s suspicions - despite not being fazed or fully surprised.
(Before anyone else asks, you’re telling the group. Yes, we also made it official after God knows how long. Are you happy now?)
–
Later, she’s back in your room for one night, maybe two.
The whole place is riddled with waves of nostalgia, Julie’s additional presence opening up the sweet wound that never really hurted you in the first place; if anything, it makes the nocturne appearance of the moonlight breaking through your blinds and into the space where you’d want to keep things just the way they were. It’s in the trinkets and collectibles; the multitude of shirts you’ll let her steal (which she already has), a trophy that she broke on accident, and the wilted corsage for when you took her to do anti-prom activities for fun when she gave you the news about moving away from you and this town. The small recap on film running through your head is short-lived, kind of like the roll burning up when there’s nothing left - much of a story unfinished. You and her could recount all of the things that make your room yours, and you wouldn’t mind wasting time talking about the many different kinds of nonsense with her.
“I’ve been wondering,” she tells you, “actually, more than just wondering.”
She’s straddled across your lap, fingers dancing along the back of your head - your hands and eyes are wandering all over, from the visible window of her cropped shirt, helplessly holding onto her on her sides, the gradual curve from the rise of her ass, hiking to the spots where you’ll bruise her skin and–
“I’m sorry,” you’re left breathless and laughing a good amount when you look down at her sweatpants, “since when were you so bold with hiking up the ends of your lacy panties for me to notice?”
Julie presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, knitting one brow closer to the bridge of her nose, hands neatly rested across your traps while she’s snickering at you keeping your eyes stuck to her body - letting your fingers trail up and underneath her cropped shirt, realizing that she didn’t have a bra underneath to begin with. She reads into your next move when your hands stop at her sides, crossing hers over and slipping the shirt, tossing it in some corner of the room where you’ll look for it later, taking in the valley of her breasts and the nice size when you get your thumb and finger beneath them.
“You’re getting off topic.” She says to you with a click of her tongue, calculated, knowing that there were more pressing measures to be discussed rather than have you shamelessly lusting and drooling all over her pleasantly enticing skin. “Answer the question, dickhead.”
“Language.” you chuckle, leaning your neck up for a pitiful kiss - to which she accepts.
It’s awfully quiet around your side of the neighborhood. The only things that break the silence in every few moments or so is the distant beep of the smoke detector downstairs; that, and probably the occasional pass by of a car down the street.
She asks you the question bouncing around her mind, but you pay no attention since you’re leaving chaste kisses across her chest.
“Hm?” you have the audacity to hum, causing Juile to flip some of her hair forward - a flash of her ego at best; and another thing about it, you’re so into that. “Must’ve missed the question again. Wha–”
“You really didn’t have anything serious going on while I was away?” Julie’s implying about any kind of special connection, whilst being very indifferent in the way that she speaks. “Not even good fuck that’s worthy of swiping your v-card?”
“Okay, then explain how good the experience was when you were doing it with me.” you reply, touch of the fingertips nestling on the outer edge of her back - sliding lower, more forward when you give the faintest pull to bring her closer to you chest. “I’d love to hear all the details about it, actually.”
“You just want me to say that you’re a good fuck for me.”
“In more ways than one, yes.”
Her arms make way, coiling around your neck - tauting themselves gently when you slip the lace at her hips between your fingers. Pulling them down a bit, just to test something, an attempt at best to make her open up all the neat perks and merits of what will entail later. No need to get more depth in the details, you already have most (if not all) of it memorized about her. She’s leaking out the bedroom eyes in the blackness of your small room, and it’ll reel you in whether you’re sensible to resist them or not.
“If this feeds your ego,” she tells you, singing the sentence along her tongue and to your ears, “you’re right, and I won’t bother to argue.”
Like you could ever complain to her or vice versa, Juile knows that her own pride will come tumbling down at the cost of you - as you’re electrifying her with every passing touch, sliding the pants and underwear off of her while giving her no chance to recover with a tit in your mouth.
A pop off the nipple, and she’s running a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself focused, and failing. “Want me to prove myself to you again?”
She presses her lips to yours, hard. A clash of the tongue and pull of your neck for more leverage, rut her hips across yours to test the friction - that growing heat from within her core, a singularity that many others would die to feel let alone hear the lovely sounds coming out of her mouth.
“Please,” murmurs Julie, smiling against the bottom of your chin, the grip on her ass tweaks tighter. You’re already imagining the red marks that would defile that creamy, holy skin.
“Try me,” she husks, “you’ve pretty much earned it.”
–
(Julie has never been more right about you. The way she puts up all of these walls and red tape; basically begging you to rip right through them, and you do. She’s flustered and left in broken pants the first time you make her cum, screaming and trembling by the second, and you have her a sobbing mess by the third time ‘round, coming undone by your cock. When you slide out of her well-worked pussy, her eyes roll back and up - raw, undone, satisfied - a move up to licking you clean with a swipe of the underside, a kiss to the tip that keeps you hypnotized for a few seconds, and she wants you to keep this in mind.
“Have I proven a point?” you ask her in full content, hand fastened to the headboard of your bed while you’re straddling her chest, happily wrapping her pretty lips around the head of your cock. “You looked like you enjoyed it a lot.”
She curls her back in and out when you finally shift and collapse next to her, a lazy kiss to your neck, humming sleepily as if she gave up in keeping it hidden from the rest of the world. “I did,” she whispers ‘round the cuff of your ear, kindly admitting it along your skin. “You’re everything I wanted bundled up all into one.”)
–
The implication still stands: Julie was never meant to stay rooted to this town.
She altered her own destiny into becoming a well known individual (since the term ‘famous’ wasn’t too appealing to put it, according to her). She’s sharing all of these different experiences, events, the interactions with people she would have never thought of meeting in her life let alone be in the same space as them. You’re sharing a buttload of things from your end of the scope, how some things stayed the way they are, for the most part. And it’s something that crosses your mind–
“I never really said to you directly about how proud I am of you,” you tell her, happily swinging your right leg around on the swingset outside your guys' favorite cafe. “I’ve told your parents countless times whenever I would see them, but-“
She has her leg over yours, shoulder meshed with her head leaned over - in one of your hats doing its job well enough to keep her appearance concealed; a bit pointless when literally everyone around the town could recognize her with ease.
“They told me,” she reassures, fiddling along the plastic bit of the string from your hoodie, pursing her lips out with a crease of the eyebrows. “You couldn’t keep in touch with me, but they could, and maybe I could’ve squeezed you in along with them - all you had to do was just ask.”
Her lips quirk when she makes eye contact with you, rolling them over and right when she scrunches her nose, knowing well at how much you could put up with her antics.
“That would’ve made things a whole lot easier, but hey,” she laughs, admitting stupidity where it stands, “What matters to me is that you finally had the chance to tell, despite everything.”
Well, I’m proud of you. You’re saying it again, this time straight to her face and not playing as the messenger. I was with you every step of the way, and now we’ve both made it to where we want to be, and maybe more.
You’re pulling a piece of hair over the cuff of her ear, she melts at the touch of your palm. Julie then leans in eyes pulling to a close, then the abrupt call of your name on the intercom signifies that the order was ready; letting out a short laugh while a parting slap to her thigh separates you two for just a few moments.
One quick tip later of a few cents, and she looks up with those oversized rims of her glasses, smiling sweetly once you hand her the same latte she always orders during schedules and events. She’s sipping it instantly while you’re moving her leg up back to where it was before; nodding along at how good the drink tasted.
She appears distant, pondering about something - zoning out to the distance while she slowly learns back against your shoulder. You’re looking out also, letting the eyes wander for anything in the cool early hours of the morning.
“Do you resent me? For leaving you? This town, our friends, and everything behind?” she suddenly stops drinking to ask.
Blinking, you’re trying to find something substantial for an answer. “Well…”
“Be honest.” she says enthusiastically. “I want nothing but the truth.”
It takes only a few moments to consider, and you’re always honest with yourself when it comes to talking to Juile. She always wanted to understand your side on certain things: opinions on important matters, what kinds of clothes look good on her and what doesn’t, even the stances on who matches with who and the possible compatibility between the two that isn’t you or her. You lick your lips, tilt the drink in your hand but just enough to not where it’ll spill.
“I’ve already told you what I thought about everything that day,” you say, placing the drink on the bench to prevent from letting the wetness from the cup soak to your fingers. “It hasn’t changed. And it never will. Me being with you since the beginning should already say enough.”
“Ah, you’re right,” she breathes, pouting her lips slightly because you could easily tell that she’s managed to let that slip from her mind, and you don’t blame her for that. She continues to ramble on about all of these regrets that seem to unravel and fall out - her cool breaking down once the realizations set in of the countless sacrifices she had to make. “How silly of me, overlooking that day.”
A shake of her head only brings the disappointment to the front faster, and she keeps drinking up her latte. You catch the smallest hint of a twinkle in her eyes, the middle part of the plastic top hitting the edge of her nose once finished with the beverage. Instinctually pressing your lips to her cheek as reassurance, she smiles at that, letting you take her empty cup to toss a few steps away from the bench.
Coming back, she’s on her phone, smiling her heart away at something that she’s proud of for sure; you can’t help at how cute she looks when she’s all geeked out - emitting more confidence that you could only dream of matching.You’ll get a chance of that with her help, or not; either way, if she’s happy, you’re happy.
“I was out in Europe for a shoot before our break,” she lets you in on her project, “The concept is very niche for all of us, and I’m very happy we pushed forward with this. Consider it as an insider look as appreciation for the way you’ve been treating me.”
She’s showing you a quick slideshow of Julie in an extremely wicked bikini top, a roll of green wrapped around her middle in a poor attempt of a ribbon around her body. Then there’s the short video of her on the stationary bike, and then the actual choreography. It’s leaving you in shock, so there’s really only one way of reacting. “I- holy shit. Julie, the–”
You’re watching how exciting it is for her to show these things to you, it’s adorable. She lets you in about all of the logistics, music, overall approach to how they wanted this thing to be received. The drive, passion, how everyone played a part into making this work; you understand that level of thinking entirely. “Right? This was exactly what I was talking about.” she’s tapping along your arm, “I can easily tell which part is your favorite already.”
“Not even gonna say it.”
“You should because it’s me.”
“Fucking christ,” you mutter, swiping her phone to get a closer look. She leans closer with a mischievous giggle at the thumb replaying the clips over and over again. “Hate it, someone like you should never be this hot.”
“But I am.” she replies, placing both of her legs across yours. “That’s the fucked up thing, isn’t it.”
“It’s also amazingly fucked up how good you are at twerking.”
“Didn’t come from practice baby, it’s all natural.”
You’re left gaping at her, shocked even. Julie’s eye smile is the only thing you see while she's covering up her face in embarrassment, wondering if the current judgment you’re giving her will stick for the foreseeable future.
It’ll throw you for a loop, but it’s still hot.
“I might have to rethink my life choices from here on out.” you tell her, staring up at the ceiling with a smile while she playfully punches your shoulder out of annoyance.
–
A beat later, you’re staring at the ceiling.
More specifically, the ceiling in your room, barely holding it together when you look up at the sight of Julie’s backside, cock vanishing in between in that glorious canyon of her ass, bouncing up and out with the pitches in her moans go further up the gradual scale.
“Fucking hell,” you hiss, hands resting along her calves while she slams her hips down, lightly thrusting yours up to meet her in the middle. The pressure already hot around your length, murmuring some words of praise that fall toward nearly inconceivable to understand. She sits up, and you’re hypnotized by the way she raises her hair up to reveal more of her surprisingly toned back, peeking over her shoulder, while your head just plops back to the pillow behind.
“You like that,” she murmurs, rocking her hips in a forward-backward motion along the stiff line of your cock, “oh- you love when you get to have my ass like this for you.”
“God-,” you huff out, pathetically, vision blackening to a fine point. “Holy shit- I could never get tired of this pussy, ‘feels so damn good.”
She falters forward, letting most of her lower body do the work, spreading her thighs out more for your hands to come to grips with. Flipping some of her hair back, while reversing her ass at the angle where you feel all of her, you’re worried if your dick will stay in one piece by the end of it.
“Just sit there like a good boy and relax,” Julie tells you, with a firm determination above the creaks of the bedframe, “don’t even do anything.” When she grinds down, deep, to where you’re thrusting your hips upward to hit her favorite spot, she coos at how you failed to put up with her instructions. “Look at you, not even listening to what I’m saying, shame on you.”
“Don’t really care,” you offer - an admission of guilt would be a better way of describing it, “You always get what you want anyway, so it’s my turn.”
You could feel the smile from across her lips, happily taking the opportunity to fuck herself over your cock choking her all the way down to the hilt. The slick sounds coming away from your groin and hers is a lovey track you’ll never get tired of hearing, and she adores the sounds coming out of you as well, it’s unholy, slamming back down with the sweetest whines projecting from her mouth.
She shimmy’s her hands up your thighs, sitting upright, letting you rest inside her warm hold for just a second while she catches her breath. Then, with a move of one leg, and the other to follow, she’s on the opposite side, caressing your head while your fingers are quick to get her hips moving again, amazed when you slide up in her, quivering thighs and a shaky breath to get you softly laughing.
The slaps of her hips on yours get louder for a few moments; admittedly, you kinda just let yourself go because her cunt should not be this easy to spread apart. In addition to that, her mouth hovers next to your ear, mumbling words or something remotely close to a verbal sound while you’re fixated on the clench her walls have over you.
The vision only fades out more, then the hearing also goes:
“Pill.” she tells you. That singular word entails a thing. One thing, and probably the testaments that will come after - if you’re ready for it, but let’s face the facts: for someone like her and the industry that she’s affiliated in, no one is ever really ready, but you’ll be in on it if she’s the first on board.
You’re not letting up your pace anytime soon, grabbing a handful of her ass, and bringing her back down to Earth. “Juls, you–”
“I want your cum.” she simply says, “just yours.”
It’s also not worth putting up a fight for much longer when she cums first; the gritty groan that has you sighing in tandem. She’s powering through with her lips on yours, wanting your body to completely crumble underneath her, fucking past your threshold - a kiss to the corner of your lip, in the most menacing action she could do to you, well pleased and–
“You’re so- fuck, filling me up was also one of your dreams, wasn’t it?”
Hey, in all fairness, let her have this one on you. If it means having her breasts all over your tongue or her nails gripping the nape of your neck, you’ll be adamant in not letting her go.
–
Your mind gets in this gray area. Things might be in a constant loop in terms of activities, or maybe you’re dialing it back from the hammering heatwave the other day. It’s not that, just the foggy morning on a lazy Sunday.
You’re taking slow steps across the hardwood floorboards in your house, glass of water in your hand. There weren't any plans for you and Julie for today, so the second best option which was the logical one was to stay inside, despite doing that for four out of the seven days last week. There’s also this quiet appreciation you have when the ominous setting of the house is in complete darkness, with the light fog serving as the present light source when you reach back to your room upstairs.
Upon returning, the visible spot of where you slept, and Julie adjacent to the right, still knocked out. It’s very calming, you realize, how peaceful she looks while sleeping, the gentle rise and fall of her chest underneath the sheets. The small tousle of her hair is spread out across the pillow, with her left arm and leg in the same position as it was when you were in bed with her before waking up.
Mindful of what she mentioned about her sleep schedule being all over the place at times, you decide to admire her bare face when you’re thumbing her cheek.
She twists a bit at the touch, the subtle stretch of her body underneath, shaking off the slumber little by little. The comforter resting along her neck shifts down, revealing the apparent lines of hickeys across the column of her neck - a favorite preference of yours that you’re carefully examining while she slowly flutters her eyelids open.
A look up, and you’re leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Figured I’d let you sleep in for a bit longer, but it looks like you don’t want to.”
Julie pulls a lazy smile, shifting her body slightly deeper into the cushiony confines of the bed, not wanting to move. “Do I want to know when we both passed out last night?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“It’s also not like we’re gonna do anything today. I mean, it’s been hot for most of the week. And, we only got lucky with the rainfall around here.” She finally decides to sit up a bit, pull some of the sheets over her body for a little more coverage. Your parents are out early again seeing relatives, an advantage in this current scenario: just you and me alone? Where you’ll fuck me again and again until the screams bounce off the walls and the neighbors will come over to complain for the hundredth time-
“You’re right. We don’t have anything planned for the time being,” you tell her, another helpless kiss to give that sends your brain giddy signals because your gorgeous lover and best friend for years is making you act like a freaking kid once more - not that you’d complain about it.
“Aside from watching that series you found, I’d rather just stay inside for today.” Julie suggests, scooching closer to you on the edge of the bed. “Cook us something for breakfast.”
That will happen, eventually, but you’re too busy working your lips all over Julie’s face. Tip your forehead in, get a kiss to her temple, then her cheeks, a stray one next to her nose, the end of her nose, her jaw. She’s too smitten with the private displays of affection, gratefully accepting it with an arm thrown over the shoulder, lightly laughing a crinkled nose with her face brightening.
It’s moments like these, away from the attention of others, behind closed doors, where the cameras and die-hard fans of Julie’s persona don’t typically have the golden chance to see, they’d envy to be in your place - as the one person out of everyone in her life to have this side of her. She tells you that fame itself is a weird paradox to get sucked in by, and in a way she’s absolutely right. You know from the get-go that Julie is one of the most beautiful, soft-spoken, and well respected individuals you have ever had the blessing of knowing.
“Anyone ever told you how amazing you look?” you ask her, her squinted eyes losing all seriousness when you laugh.
The look of adoration you have on her bare, sleepy face. It’s a sight that you don’t want others to cherish other than yourself.
“I’d rather just stay in this room and stare at you if I could.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing already?” she asks, biting her lip while you’re tilting your head from right to left, mimicking her doe eyes that she rejects with a hand soon after, for now.
You bite your lip, let out a tsk, and something snaps in your head for one second. Lips are fast to the line of her neck, hand slithering to her back, laying her back down on the bed gently. Julie tenses up for a moment, then lets her body go slack, allowing you to leave no nook or crevice untouched with the feeling of your tongue.
“Breakfast?” she asks.
“Not now,” you answer, kissing the pulse point right beneath her jaw, soothing with a soft bite of your teeth, “Just indulging.”
“I see.”
She murmurs and squeaks once you let your hands join the party. Kneading and massaging her breasts while you shift yourself down to the line of her collarbone, inhaling the leftover aroma of sex from the previous night. Her hand’s quick to the back of your head, tugging hair while you let your right hand jump down to her hip. A move of the sheets, to open things up, and your mouth shifts in between the cleavage, getting lower.
Julie putting legs together was a futile effort, sliding along her luscious thighs while your tongue streamed down her abs. The grip of her fingers got a little tighter, closer to desperate.
“Enjoying your fun?”
“Very.”
Your eyes lock on to that tattoo that hugs above the hard bone of her hip. It's a simple design: an anchor. The meaning of it is something that she never got around to explaining, feeling the ink across the pad of your thumb before smothering it in a string of kisses, to where she laughs at the silly feeling. Your hands curve up her waist, while your head is at her belly, descending down even more to where you're hovering right above the designated area you’ve set your sights on.
A check of the clock in a quick glance, and it reads nine-thirty. There’s definitely some extra time to waste before starting the day.
Juile lets in a sharp inhale when you get yourself comfortable, arms underneath her legs, parting them. She sees the glint in your eyes when you’ve finally started to bring the trail of kisses from her inner thigh upwards, anticipating for what’s to come. You can tell that her vision is getting hazy, a cross-eyed gaze that only pushes you to absolutely ruin her, and hold your end of the deal.
“Have I ever told you,” you start, a teasing kiss to her folds, “how amazing your body is?”
“I don’t think you’ve told me explicitly, but showed in other ways.” she replies, propping herself up with an elbow and a heel down to your spine.
That’s your Julie.
You press her down, from the waist, a harsh suck on the clit, and get the first few samples of her addicting slick down your mouth. She sucks in her gut right underneath your fingers, and you hum in approval.
Pulling away, licking your upper lip, and some of her bed hair gets in front of her face, heaving. “And by the way,” you tell her, “I”m getting you back with the whipped cream this time.”
She nods, knowing well that it’s pointless for her to fight the foreshadowed climaxing sounds coming out of her mouth with the back of her hand.
–
Julie brings out a side of you that only seems to really bloom fully when she’s around. It’s something that never really gets acknowledged, let alone be brought up in moments where you’re truly at your most vulnerable state - the side where all of these hardships and struggles in being a good person, blinded by perfection, all seem to wash away from the touch of her hands and lips, combined with the reassuring words of encouragement.
That said side truly blossoms when you genuinely feel the intimacy above what the mind wants you to think. Aside from all the hand-holding, arms linked, stolen kisses while waiting at the red lights, sharing bites of the same food order, tearing away skin in little nips, the sex itself escalated a lot more than just sheer lust taking over both of you. It’s above than just the regular conventional fucking.
So you bring it back to where you and her unpacked all of the bottled up feelings:
On the couch, but this time at your place rather than hers. By literal unpacking, when you sink your cock inside, the relief of her walls clamping down around you, moaning out alternating expletives and your name, letting her body go limp as you increase the pace, pounding her senseless, have the raw urge to just get rough and pin her down in this spot where she’s supposed to be. You’ll want to be locked away with just her for no one else to see, to have her all to yourself; it’ll be selfish of you, but she’d agree where your head is leveled.
“It’s not even all that special- ah-” she blurts out while you have your hands cuffed to the back of her shoulders, leaning in to place a languid kiss across the fine column of her neck. You’re fucking out all the sounds and whines out of her, bottoming out every drive in, her legs rest just above your backside ankles stacked - your mind is already frizzled out, and so is hers, pulling ever fiber inside your muscles and bones into getting her astonishingly destroyed, “it’s just- your cock is- fuck- fucking perfect.”
She’d want you to be gentle sometimes, but when it’s rough? Oh man, you’ll let the actions speak louder than your fucking words.
“In through your nose, Juile,” you whisper with a bump to her forehead, holding her down at the waist while your hips aim tried and true, into the hottest spot deep in her cunt where you can reach, “That’s it baby, there we go. Just be pretty for me, like this. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Ugh,” she huffs, letting her eyelids drop finally when you’ve made her reach that euphoric sensation first, gasping when she feels a hand wrap lightly around the jaw, forcing her mouth open, a few broken sounds get let out, panting. Her back arches while you slip your other arm under, and manage to drive your cockhead even deeper - it's a new feeling of bliss that has you in disbelief. “More, please-”
She is so- so slick around your cock. A dam of an orgasm within you and her just waiting to finally break. You keep the motion going: pull your hips out, and drive back in. Pull your hips a bit further out the second time, and the snap of your thighs hitting has her crying. It’s mind numbing; you’ve lost your composure with her the first time fucking your feelings out to her, and it’ll be like this for as long as you’re together. She could ruin you like right now - in the next day, week, month; hell, for the foreseeable future. The notion in itself is already devastating to think while this girl beneath you is shuddering, as you’re pounding her ruthlessly, pulling her hips back to yours, coaxing her worked pussy well past the brink to the point where you’re hearing your own heartbeat thumping in between your ears.
“You’re so good…” she croons, lifting her head up bareilly to kiss you, get a few nails dragging along your back, let the pain soothe the filthy fuck you’re giving her. “Please, just– like that, god, fuck me, more, more-”
“Shh.”
Some things in life are better left unsaid.
“I want to be yours before I go.” she whimpers, sounding off depressingly - like she’s unwilling to cope with the fact of leaving you. Her eyes are glassy, begging almost - like this was the one fear she’s afraid to live out when the time comes.
The sobs mix in with the slaps. She’s reduced to much less than a puddle, all worn out and exhausted, reaching out in desperation, keeping you close. You and her are so flushed, the stifling warmth could make you sick.
“Baby,” you breathe, a fast and tender kiss to give her all the reassurance that she’ll ever need. “You’re not- I’m never letting you go. Not now, not ever.”
By the time she’s whining and writhing and spilling out these bittersweet sobs, rocking your cock down the crevice until you’re fucking your load right down her gut. You’re hunched over, fingers digging into the two small divots below the small of her back, hips bucking, a culmination - a nod, callback, homage, whatever you’d like to call it. You’ll leave your sentiment here, along with your heart, pulsing every beat out until the strokes get slow, lethargic.
Until you finally lay to rest with a kiss to her temple.
You tilt your face, let the breath graze across hers. Her hands are clasped together, your thumb pulling a bit of her hair away from her cheek. She’s shaking a bit, chest heaving but calming as the seconds pass on the clock.
“I was always yours.” This was the lasting resolve you’ve had with Julie, “from the very start.” You’re muttering while she’s knitting her eyebrows, trying to take time to recuperate, fluttering her eyes open that tears down the final wall within your chamber.
She tries to form something within the rows of her teeth, and though it might not be recognizable to your ear canals, you press your forehead against hers again, letting that lazy smile do damage for the thousandth time since she got here. Drink in the moment while the crickets start singing their patchy tones.
“It’s you,” she says, tiredly. “It’s always been you.” She’s softly laughing while you’re peppering her with kisses, and she’s quick to get both of her hands on opposite ends of your face, having one for herself because she’s selfish. “No one else even comes close.”
Finally closing her eyes, you pull a soft smile, internalizing what was just said.
–
The agenda is running blanks - you’re stuck doing the usual, daily routine that you’ve built a proper consistency with. Sometimes, it feels like you’re running a rerun of that one annoying sitcom your dad plays to serve as background noise while doing chores around the house.
In other words, it’s been a little bit dry.
“You never really told me,” you tell her, leaning back against the car while squinting through your sunny’s, staring up at the building in front of you. “I’ve always wondered if you’d take the chance to teach a class here in your free time.” The building, that is, Julie’s old dance studio; one of a few places that has served a pivotal purpose in your friendship and relationship with her. She tells you that you would’ve done a few things well if you had chosen to pursue the same passion as her years ago, and you laugh at that.
“Something to consider,” she starts. Walking back towards the car while you sigh and have an eyebrow lifted. “Think they’d take me in when I’m supposed to lay low for the time being?”
“Talk about laying low when everyone knows you’re back in town.” You shrug.
“I might just do it.”
“Then go for it.”
You pass her a drink that was bought from one of her favorite spots just five minutes down the street, puts the refreshing taste down her throat before returning the cup.
“I’ve only got a few more days,” Julie says, twisting your attention from your phone back to her. And once again, you’re reminded. You’ve known the stakes long before she even arrived here. The low burst of a bus passing by, a daunting noise you'll hear again once you drop her off at the airport when it happens. “The company wants me back to finalize a few things before the next project.”
“Right,” you nod, remembering clearly about the short topic when she brought it up the other day. “Can’t be a show if they don’t have their star present to make it happen.”
Julie shifts a shoulder, tilting her head and prompting you to walk with her. There wasn’t anywhere else to go in this town, and you’ve done the lot. At this point, you’re just enjoying the quality time spent well with her.
And it gets you wondering - probably the fine line between delusion and deep thought about: What would it be like if she didn’t become famous in the first place? Would she pursue other endeavors besides doing dancing and music that she could be proud about? What if it didn’t work out back then, and she had to come back here? None of those things really matter unless she tried, and look what happened; she did try, and she made it.
It’s after all these years of building her own life, you realize again, that even though there's that apparent gap of leaving you in the dark for all this time, she’s still the same - deep down, in this very moment where no one else sees her as this superstar, but a regular person. A person, to you, that has grown much more than what you could have ever imagined possible. The list of things in your mental checklist has filled up to the point where the paper roll in would have to be extended, maybe stapled to a stack.
You hit the jackpot in the roulette love-life that some are very lucky to have. That longtime childhood friend-next-door neighbor turned to lover seems very make-believe and cliché if put in writing, but you’ll fill the blank journal page of that story somewhere down the line.
(An idea, or, ideas - for the topic of that entry, start forming. Maybe it’s a good thing to set some time aside to rewrite that empty draft completely.)
She’s here now, she’ll be gone soon; but the unchanging fact is that you’ll be her strongest supporter. An act of affection that doesn’t really need to be said out loud, and you’re cheering her on even if she’s begging to stay in this town. You love her and what she does; you’ll love her even if there’s some distance between you two.
Love. You blurt out while zoning out to the small skyline, it’s such a funny concept to think about. Even if–
“What was that?” Julie asks, stopping in place while you’re suspended on the sidewalk. “Did you say something?”
And, some things in life are meant to be said.
“I love you.” The own voice in your throat sounds unnatural, like a spirit possessed you into saying it. You clear your throat, not willing to hide away from anything - especially her. “I’ve always loved you. Didn’t you know that?”
Julie turns her body square to you, a tilt of her head, inquisitively, lightly scrunching her face at what you just confessed, admitted - determining if you just committed perjury at this very moment. All she did after a second was nod in agreement, looking you in the eyes that tell a whole lot more, “Yeah, I knew that.”
You cringe, throwing the most gummy grin at her imaginable. She laughs, walking forward with a small hand slap to your chest. It’s silly, cute, and so sweet. This girl has weaved into your heart, threading it so tightly that everyone else outside your little bubble knows that you’re hers. A keepsake, one of many.
“Think you can handle missing me?” she asks, hand on your cheek - and this time you’re the one leaning into her touch. “From the looks of it, you’re gonna be struggling. Like, a lot.”
“Tsk,” and you’re rolling your eyes while she starts to walk again, “I worry, like a normal person should.”
“What’s there for you to worry about?” Julie asks you with her hands stacked behind her back, “until then, we’ve got all the time in the world. Now c’mon!”
She grabs you like by the hand, and you’re left smiling since it’s been something to be fine with. Because at the end of it all, she’s always right.
Best believe that you won’t forget it.
-
// i hope you enjoyed!! wanted to pop in here to say a quick massive thank you for all the amazing support since my debut so far. it genuinely means the world to me and I appreciate you guys from the bottom of my heart. much love to everyone, stick around for more, and stay healthy <333 //
—is the last thing you hear before your entire world tilts sideways, the weight of your girlfriend crashing into you, sending you toppling over the arm of your chair and onto the thankfully plush carpet.
And just like that, Kim Chaewon has arrived—shattering the quiet of your apartment with the sound of her giggles and the thud of your bodies.
To her credit, she gracefully lands on top of you—legs straddling your torso, hands pressing down on your chest—pinning you to the floor, and she's grinning—all doe-eyes and mischief, her hair fanned out around her like a strawberry-blonde halo.
"Do you surrender, baby?"
You could pretend to put up a fight—push back a little, buck your hips, take her by the waist—get a little rough. But why would you? Especially when losing meant having Chaewon on top of you.
So, like always, you decide it's best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants and you play along: enjoying the creamy thighs squeezing your sides, that collarbone peeking out of your stolen sweatshirt, those impossibly large eyes looking down at you as she makes herself comfortable—and you respond with a rather theatrical groan, "I surrender, Chae."
"Nuh uh," she corrects you, her voice dropping down a comically low octave. "It's Chaewon-rys Targar-something, Queen of Apartment 19-4, Ruler of..."
"My fridge?" You offer.
"Very funny,” Chaewon replies, bemused.
It's been weeks without this—without her—and you've barely survived. Chaewon's schedule is a merciless beast, devouring every second of her time. But here she is, now, with you—on top of you—back in your life and picking up from exactly where she left off.
“But,” she continues, “seeing as you're in the mood for jokes how about… ThisI" Chaewon turns cruel, unveiling her most brutal method of torture—tickling. She catches you off guard, shifting her weight, her hands abandoning your chest and flying to your sides, her light fingers dancing over your ribs, her nails lightly digging in just enough to make you squirm.
"Wait-wait-wait!" You try to twist your way free, but she's got you good, her fingers now inching closer to your armpits, towards your most vulnerable spots. "Mercy!" you yell, but she's just getting started— “Mercy!”
"No mercy!" She's relishing this far, far too much, all giggles and grins, delighted at your pathetic efforts to struggle out from her grasp and escape her vicious assault. Your laughter comes out in uncontrollable bursts, as you desperately try to cover your sides to protect yourself from her onslaught.
"Ok-ok-ok-I give up! You win— you win—I give up!" You cry out, your laughter morphing into wheezes as Chaewon's relentless tickling at last, mercifully subsides.
"Aha! Round 129 goes to Kim-Chae-Won!" Chaewon turns and bows to an imaginary audience, mimicking a faraway crowd chanting her name "Kim-Chae-Won! Kim-Chae-Won!"
"I have once again been defeated," you feign a dramatic sigh, drawing an even harder laugh from Chaewon as you roll your eyes to the back your head and let your tongue loll out of your mouth.
Your apparent death does little to faze Chaewon, who takes this as an opportunity to plop down on your stomach, pressing her full weight down on your chest. She props her elbows on either side of your shoulders, her chin resting on her interlocked hands. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize.”
Chaewon slides her hands upwards, her fingertips walking up your arms towards your wrists, squeezing them lightly and pulling them over your head, holding them firm against the ground.
When your eyes finally refocus, she’s hovering over you, her button nose brushing against yours, and her lips—bright pink and slightly parted—just millimeters away from your own.
You're trapped under her, but you hardly mind—she's so warm, so soft, so natural—crime would skyrocket if this was considered a form of punishment.
"Let this be a lesson," she's whispering now, very much satisfied, so close that waves of her strawberry-blonde hair spill down on either side of your face. Strands tickle your nose with the scent of her shampoo, a floral bouquet that you've come to associate with lazy Sundays and the promise of warm breakfasts in bed. "I. Always. End. On. Top."
She finishes her victory speech by stealing a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.
That simple kiss has your mind wandering, entertaining the thought of flipping the script—of surprising her, overpowering her and turning the tables.
You could grab her, kiss her long and hard—get rid of that ludicrously oversized sweatshirt and tear off those dangerously short sweatpants. Part those lithe, never-ending legs, feel the warmth of her bare skin against yours, mark your territory on her perfect, toned thighs and each individual abdominal muscle.
But the way she's looking at you, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, her eyes sparkling with playful triumph, she's so adorable that the thought of manhandling her right now seems almost...sacrilegious.
And, let's face it, it's seeing this side of her that you love—the Chaewon that's free from the glitz and glamour of the stage, the choreography, the smiles that are painted on for the cameras. The Chaewon that is not wearing the mask of someone enjoying herself, that is actually, genuinely having a good time.
Here, in your apartment, with the curtains drawn and the outside world blocked out, she's just yours—Kim Chaewon, your girlfriend. The one who laughs at your terrible dad jokes and makes fun of your outdated sense of style, the one who can tell whether you've had a good day or not just by how heavy your feet are when you walk through the front door, the one who knows all the perfect ways to make you relax after a tough day at—
Fuck.
Work.
The word sneaks into your mind like a ninja in the night—silent, swift, and really fucking inconvenient.
Fucking work.
A bullshit spreadsheet you're supposed to be updating and a deck that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, even though you know it won't be looked at for another month.
You don't have to say anything, Chaewon's already reading the frown lines on your face. "Oh—no-no-no. That's your—'fun time is over I have work to do'—face. I hate that face."
"There's these slides..." you know you’re fighting a losing battle, your voice trailing off as you try to hold onto the last remnants of what was once a very pleasant afternoon.
"No way—not happening," Chaewon insists, emphasising her point with a firm squeeze of your wrists. "I only just came back from Japan, and it’s been weeks. There is no way you're going to ditch the beautiful love of your life for that laptop. I'm literally on top of you right now!"
"Come on, Chae, I was almost done when you came in—"
"—when I defeated you in combat and forced you to surrender— "
"At least let me do a quick review then I swear I'm all yours," you negotiate, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing as your gaze falls to the laptop atop your desk, the open tabs taunting you. "Five minutes, tops."
"Nope, not moving, not going anywhere, you're just going to have stay under me like this forever." Chaewon's being petulant now—this is more your fault than anything, you've been spoiling her like a princess—and while she is acting like a brat, it's a brat of your own creation.
"Chae—come on—let me up, please."
"If I let you up, you'll get into one of your 'zones' and then it'll be hours before you’re done and you’ll completely ignore me," Chaewon pouts, her nose scrunching up in a way that's both endearing and exasperating. "And I've missed you too much for that."
"I promise I won't—”
Chaewon rolls her eyes at that.
“I'm serious—just let me up."
"Oh, you're serious now, how scary."
"Five minutes, Chae—"
“Bullshit.”
“Come on, let me up.”
"Or what, what are you going to—wait—what the—wait!"
It doesn't take much effort at all—face it, she's at best a hundred pounds soaking wet—but you're already on your feet, wrists free of her dainty fingers, holding her up with just one arm and a single hand palming an ample ass cheek.
You catch your breath as you stand, and she’s still reeling as the sudden balance shifts. She’s forced to cling to you, wrapping those long, toned legs around your waist, and looping her arms around your neck, her hands grasping at the back of your head as if she's afraid you're going to drop her.
"H-how the—how did you—I had you pinned!" Chaewon squeaks out, pure disbelief colouring her voice as she clings onto you.
You leave her to work through the logic on her own, returning to your desk, righting your fallen chair, all the while still holding Chaewon like a prize you've just won at an arcade.
"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Chaewon protests, but it's too late. You've already set her down on your desk, the laptop between the two of you like a barricade. She tries to keep her limbs wrapped around you, legs around your waist—do anything she can to stop you—but you gently, quite easily, peel her off—earning another scowl from your girlfriend.
You can feel Chaewon's eyes boring into you as you sit down at your desk, her legs swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk in frustration. The work itself doesn't take long—you were being honest—just a minor grammar check here, fixing some formatting there and—
"What was that? How did you just—”
It's the first time you've ever seen Kim Chaewon—usually so composed and untouchable on stage—so completely, utterly flustered.
"I don't get it. I mean did you just get this strong?" Chaewon's voice is small, barely heard over the sound of your keystrokes—trying to process what just happened. She's shifted on the desk, leaning back now on her palms, looking at you like you're a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere at all. "Or have you always been—you were just—were you letting me win? Hey—why are you laughing?"
You hit a final 'enter', saving your work with a performative flair, and spin the chair around to face Chaewon so you can give her your full, undivided attention.
But she's not looking at you—no, she's still trying to make sense of it, her gaze flitting from the chair, to the floor, to the laptop, to your hands that are now folded neatly in your lap. You're expecting a comeback, something witty and biting, something that'll make you laugh, but she's just sitting there—pouting. Adorably so.
"Chae, come on."
"What?" She snaps out of her daze, the hardware in her head overclocking. "I just—I exercise way more than you—I run, I dance everyday, I go to the gym, I do pilates—you can't be that much stronger than me."
"I'm like twice your size, Chae." You chuckle, reaching for the water bottle on your desk and taking a well-earned swig. "And I do manage to sneak in some workouts when you're not around to tickle me to death."
"But... this whole time?" Chaewon asks, there’s an accusation in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, inadvertently distracting you with the way it makes her sweatshirt pull tightly across her breasts. It's too fucking cute, and you can't help but lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head away at the last second. "Every time, you've been taking it easy on me? Kiddie gloves?"
You sigh. "More or less."
"Why?"
"I guess I thought you knew," you say with a sheepish smile, "but even then, I didn't want to spoil the fun for you." You take another sip of water, watching her carefully. "You're so competitive, Chae. And when we’re playing like this and you win, you're so... happy. I just like seeing that."
"But that's..." Chaewon stammers. "Even when we're... You know... You're so... Gentle with me."
"Of course, I never want to—I'm just afraid that—"
"Afraid of what? That you'll break me? Okay, Bruce Banner." Chaewon teases, seemingly having made some decision in her own mind, as she hops off the desk to face you. "So, you've been holding back? You really think you’re that much stronger than me?”
You give her a very cautious shrug.
"Prove it."
"What?"
"If you’re really as strong as you think. Show me. Here—take my wrists—" Chaewon says, holding them out to you, "—and I bet I'll still be able to break free like I always do."
“I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,” you say, setting your bottle aside and standing up to face her.
“Why? Chicken?” She answers, and you try not to facepalm, reminding yourself that it is easier to just give her what she wants—most of the time, anyway.
"Alright, if that's what you want," you reply, gently placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her so her back is flat against the nearest wall. She's staring up at you the whole time, watching you intensely as you take both her wrists in one hand, holding it against the wall and above her head.
"Really, only one hand? This will be real easy to get out of—" Chaewon starts to taunt, but she never gets to finish her sentence, because your grip tightens around her wrists and she feels the full weight of your body pressing into hers. She tries to pull away, expecting the same give she's felt countless times before, but your hand is like a vice—firm and unyielding—and it dawns on her that she's not going anywhere.
Her eyes widen slightly, and she tries to hide her surprise—because she's still in the game, still playing along. She tries to push off from the wall with her legs, but you anticipate it, placing a hand on her waist and keeping her in place.
Even you're surprised at how little effort it is to keep her still—a small push here, a slight change in weight there—Chaewon is at your mercy and it feels... different.
"Wait—I can't—" Chaewon still hasn’t given up, squirming and wiggling, doing little to help her escape but a lot to make you want to keep her against you.
She's trapped, every move she makes only making it worse for her—better for you—moulding her body closer into yours, aligning the softness of her curves with the hard lines of your chest.
But still, she struggles, tries every way she can think of to break free—twisting, turning, pushing with her legs, even trying to bite you at one point—but her best efforts only make you chuckle, and press her harder into the wall, press yourself harder into her.
You can feel her heart racing beneath her sweatshirt, and there's something there—you both feel it—a sudden tension in her helplessness, a thrill in your newfound power over her. "Damn it—this is so—argh!"
Chaewon’s eyes meet yours, and there’s your confirmation—that spark of something new, something unspoken. It's not anger or fear—no, she's never looked at you with fear—it's something else entirely. It's excitement, curiosity, a hint of arousal.
And so, you lean in, closing the last gap between you, and kiss her—right there against the wall.
It's not the gentle peck she's used to, it's not the sweet, loving kiss she’s grown to expect—it's more. You don’t even understand it yourself—it's raw, it's passionate, it's the kind of kiss that could start a war—or end one—the kind of kiss that sucks all the air from the room.
Her body tenses up, and for a moment you fear that maybe this is too much, too far, and you ready to let her go.
But she melts into it—into you. You let go of her wrists to cradle her face, and her arms fall to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back—kisses you like she doesn't want you to ever stop, like she knows she couldn't stop you even if she tried. Her nails dig into your skin, not painfully, but with enough pressure to remind you that she's here, that she's alive and real and in this moment with you.
You push her into the wall, the plaster giving a gentle protest, and she’s lifting her legs up—she’s straddling you again, gravity doing its job and keeping her affixed to your torso.
Chaewon adapts, her ankles lock behind your back, pressing herself against you, her thighs tightening around your waist, and she’s hips grinding down over your sweatpants.
It’s almost too much, too fast—zero to a hundred in record time. You break the kiss, panting, breathless, but Chaewon's eyes stay closed, her chest heaving, as if she's afraid that if she opens them, this moment will evaporate like a mirage.
"Enough proof for you?"
"Yeah," is all Chaewon can muster, and she opens her eyes, dazed, like you’ve just woken her up from a particularly good dream.
"I'm sorry," you say, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want to ruin your fun. Are you upset?"
"Upset?" Chaewon repeats, letting the word roll around her lips. "Maybe a little bit," she's biting her lip—so endearingly—and you can see the wheels turning in her head—recalculating, reassessing. "But now I'm just..." she pauses, looking down and rolling her hips against you once more, "I'm just really, really turned on."
Her admission hangs in the air between the two of you, and the air in your apartment begins to feel hotter, thicker, laced with something new.
"I love how you take care of me, how you make me feel safe..." Chaewon continues, "But this... the way you're holding me up like this... So easily, it's just so..." Another shifting of weight, another grind of her hips, and she’s slowly discovering what your sweatpants is making very little to hide. "Hot."
"Is that right?" You can't take your eyes off her lips, the way they form those delicious words. Maybe you've been wrong to treat her like she's fragile, like you could hurt her if you're not careful enough. Maybe what she’s really been craving is to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she can handle you—all of you. "Tell me what you like about it."
"I like how—ah—" Her voice hitches as you let go of her waist with your hand, sliding it under her sweatshirt, running your fingers over her toned stomach, feeling it cave in a sharp inhale. "How in control you are. How strong you feel."
Even without your hand at her waist she doesn't fall—her legs simply tighten around your waist, her grip on your neck becoming more secure, more possessive. You trace her belly button with your fingertip—her breath catches, her eyes flutter shut.
"How it feels like you could do—mmm—" she continues, her words getting lost as your hand rises higher up her body, reaching the swell of her breasts. Chaewon arches her back, pushing her chest out for more, a soft mewl escaping her lips. “—could do anything to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you."
You slip your fingers under her bra, the fabric stretching to accommodate your touch, press your thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. You pinch and roll them lightly, basking in her reactions, the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her mouth forms a perfect 'O'.
"I can do anything I want to you."
Chaewon's eyes open, and she’s looking at you like she’s seeing someone entirely different in place of her usual, doting boyfriend. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks a glowing shade of red that seems to spread down her neck and into the fabric of her sweatshirt. She opens her mouth, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, and she whispers—"Will you?"
Two simple words. Two simple words that unlock something deep inside you. Something primal. The thing inside each man since the dawn of time that drives them to hunt, kill, fuck like their lives depend on it.
Two simple words that have you leaning in and kissing her again, not just her lips—your mouth traces a fiery path along her jawline, the tender spot behind her ear, down her neck. Each kiss is a promise of what's to come, each nip of your teeth makes her shiver.
Chaewon gasps, her body writhing under your touch, her legs tightening around your waist, desperate and afraid you'll pull away. You don't. Instead, you press into her, feeling the wetness spreading through her shorts, and it takes all your self-control to not rip them off her right there.
"Bedroom," she manages to get out, a soft, fleeting whimper between kisses, "take me to the—"
You never find out the end of her sentence—twisting her body around, your hands cupping the firm, round globes of her ass, and in a single, swift motion, you lift her higher, throwing her up and over your shoulder.
"Wai—" Chaewon squeals as you hoist her up, her legs dangling in the air, has ass pointing to the sky.
She's giggling again, the sound muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt, her laughter vibrating through your back as you carry her across the apartment.
"I can't believe you're actually doing this—" she's still giggling, managing to separate herself from your back to chide you,
"—you're so strong it's unfair—",
"—treating me like I weigh nothing—" ,
"—like a caveman—",
"—I'm going to have to tell the others about this—",
"—they won't believe it—",
"—I don't even believe it—",
"—my what a big, strong boyfriend I ha—"
But she's cut off again as you kick open the already ajar bedroom door, the wood slamming against the wall. Before she can realise what's happening you're throwing her onto the bed, her body bouncing once before she lands in a sprawled mess of limbs and exclamations.
"Are you ever going to let me finish a full sen—"
"Chae," her name comes out deeper and gruffer—far more demanding than you intended, cutting off her playful protests in an instant.
For once, Chaewon is paying full attention—no quips, no sarcasm, no laughter to lighten the mood—the room completely quiet except for the sound of her breathing, and even that seems to hush in anticipation of what's to come.
You stand over her, her legs still in the air, her body open and exposed for you—her sweatshirt riding up, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the little mole you've kissed a thousand times just above her navel, her shorts stretched so tightly over her thighs.
It's in the way she's looking at you too—the way she squirms under your gaze, the way she can't help but make her body arch up towards you, pushing out those beautiful, perfect breasts, slightly parting her legs as if inviting you to dive in—wanting you to take her (to fuck her) in all the ways you wanted to but were too afraid to try before—it's all so different, all too much, all so fucking intoxicating.
"You want me to do whatever I want to you?"
Chaewon swallows hard, and nods.
"You want me to take you however I want?"
Another nod, another submission.
You step closer to the bed, your mind completely made up. "Then say it."
Her voice comes out hoarse, a strained whisper. "Take me."
"Again."
She repeats it, this time her words clearer, urgent. "Please—take me."
And with that—her shorts—those tight, far too tiny shorts—become your first victim. There's no time for slow, teasing unbuttoning or the gentle tug of fabric over skin. You're too far gone for that.
So, you rip.
The button pops off with a satisfying ping, and the material gives way, revealing her panties beneath. The sound makes Chaewon gasp, her body shiver.
Hooking your thumbs in the waistband, you drag the shorts down her legs, bringing them gliding over the soft skin of her ass, catching briefly on her thighs before you toss them to the floor.
Her panties are next—white, cotton, and oh-so-innocent looking—the kind tailor-made to be ripped off and left in shreds. But just as your hand reaches the waistband, something holds you back.
A thought—a flicker of doubt—crosses your mind. What if she doesn't like this? What if you're getting caught up and taking things too far? What if she regrets what she's about to let you do to her?
But then, "I'm okay," Chaewon says, reading your hesitation. "Stop thinking like that." Her voice is firm, almost commanding. "I want this."
"Chae—"
"I. Want. This." Chaewon repeats, her voice stronger. “I want it all.”
You trust her—you always will—and so, you nod, understanding the gravity of her words. You lean over her, capturing her gaze, making sure she sees you, really sees you. "Alright, but we need a safe word."
"A safe word." Chaewon echoes, a smile rising on her face, as she realises what a safe word means—what it enables you to do to her.
"If you want me to stop," you say, slowly, like a professor and his star pupil. "Just say..."
"Blueberry," Chaewon interjects, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous smile.
"Blueberry?" It's so unfitting, so fucking adorable, so Chae. "Fine then, if you want me to stop," you begin to explain the rules of the game that you're already starting—kissing down her calf, over her knee, down that gorgeous curve of her inner thigh, until your lips are meeting cotton— "you just say 'blueberry'. As loud as you can, the second you want me to stop. Otherwise, we keep going until I'm satisfied. Got it?"
Chaewon nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, but you don't miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. She's so ready for you, so ready for what's to come next, her body vibrating with anticipation.
"Good."
The single word hangs in the air, a declaration of intent. With it, your hand moves to her panties, the cotton material damp with her arousal. You don't hesitate, you don't play it slow, again—all it takes is your thumb in her waistband and you rip. What were once her panties gives way easily, tearing with a sound that's halfway might as well be a starting pistol, revealing her bare, already glistening, already so wet pussy to the coolness of the room.
But Chaewon's not just lying there waiting for you to make your next move. No, she's not that kind of girl. She's sitting up now, her sweatshirt coming off with a flick of her wrists, the heavy garment flying through the air to land somewhere in the room, forgotten.
Her bra follows suit—quick, efficient, like she couldn't wait another second to be naked for you. Chaewon's breasts bounce free, full and firm and so fucking perfect, rosy tips hard from the cold air or maybe just from the way you're looking at her.
Fuck, the sight of her alone is almost too much. You take a moment, just to breathe her in—to admire the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows on her skin, highlighting the curves and valleys of her body. She's a work of art, a masterpiece, and now, she's all yours—every line, every freckle, every goosebump that pops up as the cool air kisses her heated skin.
But you're not here to admire, not now. You're here to give her exactly what she wants, to treat her exactly how she deserves.
You push her back into the bed, your hands on her shoulders, the mattress sinking under your joint weight, and you're kissing her again—no, not kissing, consuming. You kiss her like you're trying to claim her, like you're trying to brand her with your mouth, and she's kissing you back with matched desperation, her nails digging into your skin like she's trying to climb you, to get closer, closer still.
"Mmmm..." Chaewon presses herself up against you—her taut, stiff nipples pushing into your chest, perfect buds squashing themselves against your body, her bare skin gliding over your shirt, her pussy, hot and wet and slippery, working its way over the swell of your sweatpants.
Her hands are everywhere—fumbling with your shirt, running up and down your back, grabbing fistfuls of your hair—and her lips follow, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ear, her tongue tracing the shell, her lips whispers sweet—filthy—nothings into your ear.
She dares to move a hand lower, squeezing in some tiny gap between your two bodies, reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers teasing the skin just above the elastic.
But you're quicker, catching her wrist, pulling it away with a firm, yet gentle grip.
"No."
You collect her other wrist in the same hand, stretching her arms out and over her head, pushing her down—with your grip, your weight, your hips—keeping her in place, keeping her where you want, paying her back in kind for her earlier “victory”.
"I know what you want," you murmur against her neck. You lean more of your weight into her, your hips pressing down, grinding against her—a slow, deliberate movement, that stains your sweatpants with the juices leaking from her pink, puffy lips.
"Yes," she purrs, "I need you."
"I know," you taunt—another grind, another groan, a deepening stain, "but I need you to want me more."
"I do," she's pleading, begging, "please, I need your cock."
"Not yet," you say, a light chuckle at the whine that escapes her lips. "Not yet."
"But—"
"I am going to fuck you," you say. "Not how you're used to." Her breath hitches, throat swallows—apprehension, arousal, adrenaline—it's all there, playing out on her face like a silent movie. "I'm going to fuck you in every way that I've ever wanted to, in every way I thought you could never handle."
You snake a hand from her waist, drawing a path with your fingertips, running them over her soft, unblemished skin, the ridges of her abs, as you move your hand down, down, until you're right at the juncture of her thighs.
"Ah!" It's the sweetest sound, a high-pitched gasp that turns into a full-throated groan as your index finger breaches her wetness, sliding into the slick, dripping opening of her cleanly shaved cunt—so, so wet—until it's buried knuckle-deep inside her.
Chaewon's back lifts off the bed, her body curving as you slide your finger in and out of her, settling into a steady rhythm. Every movement earns a different, delightful reaction—you trigger your finger: her body shakes, you kiss her neck: she echoes back your name, you add your middle, then your ring finger into her tightness: she falls apart.
"God—gah—" she chokes on whatever noise her mouth is trying to make, her legs spreading wider, hips bucking up to meet your hand, your rhythm. She's beyond soaked; her thighs, her lips, your palm—all drenched in hot, insatiable wetness. "You're so—so fucking good at this."
You add your thumb to the mix, brushing the hood of her clit with the pad; you curl your fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her crumble.
Her eyes start to close, she’s lost to the sensation, her face contorting in beautiful agony as her walls close around your digits, before you snap her out of it—tightening your grip around her wrists, a slight jolt of pain to force her eyes to meet yours.
"Look at me," you grunt. "Look at me while I fuck you."
Chaewon doesn't dare even blink—she’s so obedient—and the way she's looking up at you now—so willing, so wanting to please, so eager for more—it's bordering on complete worship.
So, you give it to her. You plunge your fingers deeper, twisting and turning, feeling her tighten around you, her wetness coating your hand, the walls of her pussy fluttering with each stroke. You can see it in the redness of her cheeks, the trembling of her thighs, the way her stomach muscles tighten and release—she's close, she’s been so close for far too long.
"Good girl." You kiss her forehead, her nose, her dimples, something sweet amongst the depravity.
"Am I?" Chaewon's question is hopeful, so disastrously erotic, her voice a breathy whisper. There's the beginnings of a storm in her eyes, the first hints painting her features in a way that's so vulnerable, that tells you the only thing holding her back from collapsing is your explicit approval.
"Yes, Chae," you murmur against her ear, nibbling gently, your fingers melting inside her folds. "You're being such a good girl for me."
"Th-thank you," she manages shaky words, barely keeping it together, at the mercy of the quickening of your fingers, the circling of your thumb, the movements of your hand, helping her climb towards that wonderful peak. "Oh my God—how are you—how is this—so—fuck—fuck—"
"Good girls deserve a reward." You're roughly kissing into her collarbone, feeling her pulse hammering under your lips—you want to leave a mark on her body, something for her to remember this by—something to remind her how completely she came apart for you. "Cum for me—cum now—cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it—how much you love it."
"Please," Chaewon's desperate, so desperate, trying to do something, anything, everything that she can to convince you to let her fall apart. "I love how you touch me—just—please—I’m so close—"
She’s on fire, there’s too much pressure—your fingers work inside her, undoing a knot of their own making—unravelling that slutty ache inside your girlfriend—your good girl—fucking her and stretching her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth to drop open in a silent scream.
"So good—so fucking good—just like that—mmmm-MMMPH!"
You breathe it in—your mouth on hers, her cries dying in your throat—feeling her tighten, tense, release around your hand as her small, tight frame—her whole, amazing body—overwhelmed by just three fingers and a thumb.
It takes her like an eruption, a natural disaster—dancing along her skin, to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts—turning her into a shivering mess, leaving her limp beneath you.
"Fuh—"
You release her lips, watching her pant and quiver, her chest heave, her body spasm from the aftershocks of her climax.
Your hand is drowned in her heat, her juices sticking to your skin as you slowly draw your fingers out of her, glistening in the soft light of the room.
"Here, have a taste." You lift your hand to her face, tracing your sticky fingers along the seam of her mouth, smearing her juices over her soft, parted lips.
Chaewon's tongue darts out, welcoming your digits as you push inside her mouth. She sucks greedily, her tongue lapping your fingertips—she can't get enough of the taste of herself on you.
"Good girl," you say again, and again—she shivers.
The tremors of her orgasm start to fade, and you pull your fingers from her mouth—no longer lathered in her cum, but shiny with her spit.
You straighten, leaning back so you're on your knees, between Chaewon's spread legs. Her eyes follow your hand as it leaves her wrist, traveling up to the neck of your shirt, pulling it off your head and reuniting it with the growing pile of discarded clothing.
Her gaze wanders down, down your body, landing at your waist, at your pants, painfully stretching over your erection.
"Take it out for me, Chae," you instruct, unnecessarily—she's already there, licking her lips, quick at work. Practiced fingers pull down your sweatpants and set your cock free, letting it spring into view, hard and heavy, landing directly on her lips.
But she doesn't get the chance to take it in her mouth, to swirl her tongue around the tip and suck you like she's so clearly been dying to—you have her by the hair before she can dive on your cock, to take it down her throat. It's harsh, it's sudden, it elicits a startled groan from her throat—but it makes it clear that this is not going to be the usual 'good little girl' kind of night.
"No," is all you have for her. You're on the edge—you've been on the edge ever since she pleaded for you—you’re done with the foreplay; you're done with the teasing. Fucking Chaewon senseless. That’s all there is now—fucking her hard and fast.
You pull her up by her hair and your mouth is back on hers, pushing and pulling, tongue in her throat, tasting her—tasting her nectar on her lips—dominating her, her own tongue dancing and wrapping around yours, her teeth grazing your bottom lip.
Your other hand finds its way to her chest, squeezing her breast in your palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness of her skin, the hardened peak of her nipple against your palm. There's not enough time—you want to shove your face between them, taste her nipples, feel them roll between your teeth, give them the attention they deserve.
But instead, you're pulling back on her hair again, gritting your teeth. "Turn around. Bend over."
There's no hesitation, no protest from her—Chaewon's a good girl, and good girls do as they’re told. She rolls onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air—she's presenting herself to you: an offering, a prize, a fucking goddess on a platter. Her spine arches as she looks back at you over her shoulder, the soft curve of her cheeks begging for you to take it.
You startle her, taking her by the hips, pulling her back to you so that when you lean in, your mouth is pressed to her ear, and your cock is twitching against the waiting, wanting, folds of her lower lips. "I'm going to make you feel it," you whisper. "Every part of you, understand?"
Chaewon nods, but it's not enough—not for what you have in store.
"I don't just want a nod, I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me how good it feels while I'm fucking you—I want to hear it all."
"O-Okay.” She’s tense, you can see it, like a coil winded up in her body, but she's eager, so fucking eager, been waiting for this for far too long—"make me scream for you—FUCK!"
Chaewon's true to her word—she shrieks as you bury yourself deep inside her, is undone by your cock—as ready and wet as she is for you, she's still so incredibly tight, needing you to stretch her, fill her, own her.
But it's not enough—you’re not going to ease her into this, to the pleasure ripping through your bodies, not going to let this moment breathe.
As soon as you've sunk into her, given her every inch that her needy little pussy could take, you're backing up, sliding your stained shaft right out of her cunt before slamming back forward.
She's crying out, making barely intelligible sounds, as you’re digging your fingers into that tiny waist, holding her by her hips as you crash into her, feeling it all—the unfathomable heat, the tightness, the wetness, the way she clenches around you with each thrust—again and again and again.
"Words, Chae," you remind her, needing more from than just the sounds of her sweet, sweet agony, and the slapping of your hips against her ass cheeks. "I want words."
"Y-yes—fuh—fuck—YES!" One-syllable noises are all that Chaewon can manage to start—all you can fuck out of her—but with each thrust, she's getting better, getting bolder. "It feels so good, so hard, so big—God, so deep—you've never—I've never been fucked like this…"
"More." It's addictive, hearing her talk like this, knowing every word that comes out of her mouth is the absolute fucking truth—the proof is in how she's shaking beneath you, how she drips around you, how her fingers claw into the sheets, trying her best to hold on. “Tell me more.”
"Y-you're going so fast—so fucking hard!" Mindless, stream-of-consciousness, fuck-drunk ramblings spill from her lips—she's begging, cooing, whimpering as you mercilessly fuck her, making her divine tits swing below her, her ass ripple with each collision. "Making me so wet—making me so fucking wet—I can't even—can't think straight—just your cock—your fucking cock!"
"This is what you wanted, isn't it Chae?" You hiss, over the sounds of the headboard slamming against the wall, the bed creaking beneath you, and her moans—oh those moans. "This is how I'm going to fuck you from now on—however I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."
"Yes-yes—this is what I want—what I fucking need. To be fucked like this—pounded—broken—so fucking sensitive." The words come so easily from her lips, straight from the pleasure centres of her brains and to your ears. "I deserve this—I've been so good—haven't I? Aren't I your good girl—please tell me I'm your good girl—please?"
"You're my good girl, Chae, you’re my perfect little slut," you acquiesce, and she cries out in relief, her body shaking under the weight of your words—she leans into your touch, your control, your cock. "And good girls get what they fucking deserve."
Another thrust has Chaewon bowing her head down to offer more of herself to you, to give you a better angle to pump her harder, deeper, laying her cheek on the bed and turning her face so you can see that blissful grin on her face, see her lips mouth your name like a prayer.
It's so perfect—she's so fucking perfect—so impossibly tight, a ridiculously wet dream of a cunt—"all yours, all yours"—so aching for you to fuck her straight into the mattress—"I can't take it"—so needy for you—"use me"—so hungry for you—"more—please—I need it."
You're giving in—giving long, intense strokes—you're consumed by it, by her, by how every lovely curve and tensed muscle of her immaculate body is doing its best to take you, to please you, to give you a fraction of the ecstasy that’s breaking her into a million tiny, euphoric pieces.
"God, I love it—love your cock—pounding me—fucking me—hurting me—I can't even think—GOD!" She's doing her best to form coherent sentences, but it's futile, she's slipping—you're not even sure if she's aware of what she's even saying anymore—it's just raw, unfiltered need.
This is going to be a problem—you're never going to be able to go back. Not when she's so needy for you—so needy to be filled by you, so needy to hear your praise as she takes your cock, so full of nothing but words of thanks for how roughly you're treating her, how you're completely ruining her—"thank you—thank you—thank you for fucking me so good."
And then you're falling, a deep, sharp thrust and you’ve sent her forward—her knees give in first, her elbows buckle. She's taking you with her, pulling you by the cock still lodged deep in her cunt. You catch yourself before your face hits the bed, one hand on the mattress, the other still wrapped around her waist.
It does little to slow you down—just gives you a better vantage point to fuck her deeper into the mattress—"yes—yes—fuck—fuck—" —to run your hand up her body and seize her by her tits, so ripe and full and yours to squeeze and twist and tease— "touch me—hurt me—it's all yours—all fucking yours."
And you do—oh, you do—you take her by the tits, feeling the soft flesh of her breasts give way to your grip, roll her nipple between your thumb and forefinger—so sensitive, so responsive. She's lost in it, so happy in the pain and pleasure of your touch—you're leaving another mark—and she cries, she curses, she clenches around you, she joins her hand over yours and pushes you for more, needing more of the loving sting you're giving her.
She’s pulsing on your shaft—walls tightening and quivering—she's so close, so fucking close to cumming—and your body responds, your cock thickens, your strokes powerful, purposeful. "I can't—I can't—baby, please—please—please—"
"You're going to cum for me now, aren't you?" You ask, like it's a question, like you can't see the tension building in her body, can’t see how she's holding her breath and gritting her teeth—it's so fucking obvious she's about to explode.
"Yes—yes—I'm about to—about to—FUCK! I can't fucking take this anymore!"
You take her by the throat—twisting her face so you can see it—you need to see it—need to see the moment she breaks for you. "Look at me," you demand—her eyes rolling up to meet yours, all teary and flawless and beautiful— "look at me when I make you cum."
"God yesssss," Chaewon gurgles, shivers, quakes, "please—please—I'm cumming—I'm cumming— I'm cumming on your fucking cock—OH FUCK!"
Your name leaves her lips in a long, symphonic, slurred cry—and she cums—not in that lovely, beautiful way you've seen her orgasm dozens of times before—this is overpowering, consuming, violent—a million tiny deaths—one magnum opus—sculpted by the Gods and utterly ruined in all ways possible, reduced once again to nothing but a mess of quivers and mewls and moans—pushed over the edge by your cock, forcing her to gush down her thighs.
She's clenching and wringing and doing everything she can to bring you with her—"God—so fucking good—I’m cumming so hard—GOD! I just need—I want it—please give it—give me your cum—fill me with it—do whatever you want to me just give it to me!"
Her eyes are open again—she's inflicted with the same curse as you—she needs to see it, see the look in your eyes as you fill her, finally claim her in her entirety as yours, finally join and become undone in the same preciously brutal ways.
"Keeeep going—cum in me—cum in me—" It’s becoming a mantra now—three short words—as if there was any other option, as if she had any choice. As much as you want to hold on, to drag this out, to savour every second of this chaos—fucking her silly, viciously, tight pussy choking your cock, she won't stop, refuses to— "cum in me—cum in me—cum in me -"
"You want it? You need it? Does your cunt need my cum?"
"Y-yes, please—fuck—fill me up—fuck me up—fill—me—fucking—PLEASE!"
She's a vision, a goddess, she's yours, she's—"Fuck, Chae, god-fucking-take-it!"—she's taking your cum like the fucking slut she is.
God, it feels dizzying, a high so perfect it must be illegal, making your vision dark and your ears ring—the only thing tethering you to the Earth itself is the feeling of her burning hot cunt, the cunt you're fucking like its only purpose in this world is to make your cock feel good.
You’re speeding towards the final stretch now—hard and rough and somehow lasting forever but ending far too soon. Nothing matters except for her exceptionally tight hole, taking you—all of you, everything you have—and you’re clinging onto her—her tits, her throat—you’re bruising and choking her, your body crushing her into the bed, and she's still screaming your fucking name like she's so damn grateful to you for treating her like she deserves.
And then, you let go.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my fucking God," Chaewon groans, "It's so much—you're filling me up— oh, fuck, oh, fuck, OH FUCK!"
It’s a car crash, a pressure valve opening, it’s too fucking much—you can’t hold back—she can’t possibly take anymore.
It burns through you both—the first, the second, the third—rope after rope after rope of cum firing into her sore, well-fucked cunt, filling it completely to the brim. All the lust, all the tension, everything, all at once, released at once in a tidal wave of white into Chaewon's swollen, sopping wet pussy.
“SO GOOD—SO FUCKING FULL!”
One final thrust—one shared cry—like nothing you’ve ever felt before—like you’re being torn apart and reassembled, piece by piece—and you collapse into her, your bodies melting into one— boneless and shaking in the aftermath of it all.
Chaewon’s cumdump of a pussy is still twitching around you—still begging for more, milking your cock even though it’s already given everything it can, every drop it has—making it impossible for you to pull out without feeling like you're leaving a part of yourself behind.
Eventually—when the numbness subsides and you're able to move again—you slide off her, onto your side, slipping your spent cock out of her well-fucked pussy. It's an image that you burn into core of your brain—her ass in the air, your cum dripping from her, the puddle of you leaking from her glistening folds and pooling on your ruined bedsheets.
"So good... so good..." Chaewon's slurring, drifting—fucked out of consciousness—already lost in some blissful, post-orgasmic dream.
That's where you follow her, exhaustion seeping into every bone in your body, and you're slipping down, down and away into that heavenly oblivion.
-
When you awake, Chaewon's curled into you—your chest is her pillow, your arms her blanket. She's still (thankfully) naked—your cum drying on her thighs, and she's awake, lazily drawing circles with her finger around your heartbeat.
"Hey," you say, kissing the top of her head, getting her attention.
She looks up at you—God, she's so fucking beautiful—a soft smile on her lips. "Hi."
"That was..." You dare to start, but the words catch in your throat.
"Perfect," Chaewon finishes for you, "so fucking perfect."
"Are you sure? I got lost in the moment there, Chae, I—" The ghost of an apology is on your lips, but Chaewon's eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over your mouth.
"Don't," Chaewon stops you, "don't ruin it with an apology. I wanted that. Needed it. More than I thought, I guess. It was amazing."
You look down at her, so small in your arms, searching her face for any hint of doubt or regret, but all you can find is perfect contentment.
And she's smiling, so sweetly, so happily. So Chaewon. The slutty cum dumpster, the adorable princess—the woman of your dreams.
She’s giggling still, tracing wider patterns on your chest, her breath warm against your skin. "You were incredible," she presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. "I never knew you had that in you."
"I didn't either," you admit, stroking her hair, looping strands between your fingers. "I had no idea how much I'd like it—how good it would feel. I mean I love getting to hold you like this—hugging you and kissing you, but—"
"It's nice to not have to treat me like I'm made of glass, isn't it?" She finishes. A beat passes, before Chaewon tables her final request. "You know, that thing you called me, while we were..."
Her voice trails off, and she's blushing now—the kind of blush that makes you want to kiss her, kiss it off her cheeks, kiss her until she's blushing all over again. "I think I called you a lot of things that probably shouldn't be repeated outside of this room." You say, and she’s laughing, slapping your chest lightly.
"You know what I'm talking about," she says. "Call me it again. Please? Can you?"
You laugh, bending down so you can steal a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.
She's pouting, doe-eyes wide and hopeful—so Goddamn adorable—and you can't resist, after all—it's always best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants.
"My good girl," you murmur into her ear, "my perfect little slut."
written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.
miyeon x male reader smut
2k words
"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."
The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.
"Okay."
"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"
"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."
"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.
Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.
That was until now.
Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.
It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.
"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.
"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."
It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.
She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.
Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.
"Look at me."
Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.
Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.
"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"
You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.
She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.
"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.
It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.
That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.
"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."
A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.
Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.
Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.
She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.
And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.
"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.
You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.
It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.
"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."
But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.
She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.
"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."
"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.
"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."
She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.
It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.
You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.
It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.
Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.
Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.
You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.
"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."
You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.
It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.
And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.
You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.
"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."
"Fuck, Miyeon."
But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."
And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.
“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”
You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.
Because why wouldn't you?
That was your deal.
---
A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.
When you turn away for the umpteenth time, Winter’s the one pulling your gaze back to her with her fingers on your chin.
“You can’t look away, remember?”
You remember the rule she set, of course you do, but it’s not that you want to—it’s that you have to. You’re about to explode under Winter’s delicate touch—if you don’t look away, you might actually embarrass yourself in front of the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. It’s even worse that she’s calling you with a cute pet name—that’s turning you on so much more.
“Mm-mmh, no more looking away, honey…”
It’s insane how the photos on the website do not do justice to how pretty Winter is in real life. You’ve been a blushing, stuttering mess ever since you met her thirty minutes ago, and Winter’s been using it as a means to toy with you the entire time. She was clothed then, and now that she’s nude in front of you, her creamy skin fully exposed for your hungry eyes to feast on now instead of the little peeks you had to take on the way to this love hotel you’re in now, you’re just so painfully awestruck, awkward, and shy in front of the sex goddess that is Winter. The goddess literally has you in the palm of her hand—her thin, dainty fingers wrap around your thick, veiny length, and she’s giving you soft, slow strokes from base to tip, her thumb swiping over your sensitive slit and spreading your dribbling precum all over the tip.
“Yah~, honey, keep looking at me. Don’t I look pretty?” Winter swipes her hair behind her neck, and once again you’re greeted with a glimpse of her petite breasts, her cute brown nipples taut with arousal. You’re lustfully staring at her body now, nodding like a fucking loser, but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s giggling, totally amused by your behavior.
“Oh, you’re getting bigger… cuuuute~. Am I really that pretty? So pretty you’re about to cum?”
Yes, you want to say, yes, you look so pretty that I’m going to explode, but you don’t trust yourself to be able to even speak, let alone eloquently. Winter’s too much—she’s draped over the bed, lying on her side as she puts her body on display for you. The sun’s streaming in through the white blinds next to the both of you, bathing her skin in a heavenly glow. You’re just mutely staring now, eyes hungrily raking across her slender arms, her pretty collarbones, along the sultry curve of her waist and hips, down her long, smooth legs. You might be going insane in every sense of the word—there’s no way you’re about to fuck this goddess, and yet here she is, stroking your cock so fluidly with earnest effort and genuine skill. Winter’s just grinning at how weak you are for her, and it grows even wider when she lets go of you to move between your legs. You’re instinctively spreading them to make space, and she lays herself down right between them on her tummy. She winks at you when she strokes your cock again, having let go to move herself to your disappointment earlier, and you’re gasping at the new position she takes. She’s just resting leisurely on her front, her feet up in the air as she supports herself on her elbows. You’re staring at the curve of her ass now, and you can’t believe she’s just, perfect, because you’re so fucking attracted to her and that stupidly amazing body and stupidly amazing ass and—
Smooch.
The loud, shaky moan that leaves your lips has you cringing in embarrassment. Winter’s laughing now, her mirthful eyes meeting yours. You’re so ashamed—just one soft kiss right on the tip of your cock and you’re melting in real time in front of her. You move to hide your face, but before you can, Winter’s kissing you on your cock again, this time on the underside of your shaft, then another one on the side, and another on the opposite side. “It’s fine, honey,” she says, “That turned me on so much~.” The goddess between your legs rubs your hot, twitching length on her cheek as she speaks, staining her skin with your precum. Now, you’re not looking away any more. “I can’t wait to hear you moan when you cum.”
Winter’s dirty talk has your mind spiraling into insanity once more. Your body reacts instantly—your cock twitches, and a dribble of cum leaks from the tip onto her cheek, drawing a gasp from your partner. You’re horrified at first, but when Winter’s eyes darken tenfold with lust as she collects your cum with her fingers and pushes them into her mouth, the arousal that burns within you erodes any shame you had.
“So you do think I’m that pretty~.” Winter’s voice grows deeper with lust, and she’s licking you from base to tip now, ending with kisses all around the crown of your shaft every time. It doesn’t take long before she’s licking you all over the tip, her hands stroking your cock once more. White precum pulses out of your slit with every lick against your sensitive underside, and Winter’s collecting it on her tongue, her eyes locked on yours before she spits it all back onto your cock as lube, stroking it just that little harder.
“Does it feel good, honey?”
“Y-Yes, it… it’s so good…”
You’ve finally managed to find your words, and Winter’s giggling now, amused at your response. She throws you another glance, and the grin on her face grows wider.
“Well, it’s about to feel even better.”
Before you can even process Winter’s reply, a wet warmth envelops your cock—Winter’s lips wrap around your shaft, and she’s sinking her head down on you to take you into her mouth. She’s softly caressing your balls now as she begins to blow you, and you begin to realize why the escort site marketed her as a “Blow Job Queen”—she’s fucking good.
“Oh, f—... Winter, please… I…”
Your partner only grins as she continues to pleasure you. She pulls you out of her mouth to spit on your cock, spreading it all over your length with slow strokes. Winter looks up at you with that sultry smile of hers, and then she’s taking you back into her mouth. The slick sounds of her blowjob mix with your moans and her soft hums, and you’re already feeling yourself getting close again, your hips bucking a bit whenever she tongues the sensitive underside of your cock.
“Close again, honey?”
“Y-Yes, I… I’m c-close.” Shaky breaths escape your lips as Winter begins to apply a soft suction as she bobs her head along your length, and you’re groaning softly, low rumbles deep in your throat as you squeeze the sheets between your fingers, your senses on overdrive. You’re feeling hot, too hot, and you’re just so needy for Winter, so desperate to cum for her.
“Hehe, so cuuuute~. Cum well for me, then. Shoot it all in my mouth, okay?”
You don’t even get to respond—Winter’s earnestly blowing you now, the wet sounds of her sucking on your cock and licking the length when she rests for air filling the room. The moans you release are music to her ears; she can feel you getting bigger, wetter, twitchier, and it’s only a matter of time before you—
“Fuck, Winter I’m—!”
There’s no need to finish the sentence—you finish in her mouth before that happens. You’re shuddering from the pleasure when bursts of cum fill Winter’s mouth, and in between flashes of white, you catch glimpses of your cum leaking and overflowing from her mouth as you buck your hips, cock twitching with every spurt. Your personal goddess is a champ though—she tries her best to hold as much of it in her mouth as she can, but you’re definitely too much for her. You’re a mess and so is she, with cum and spit running down her chin and leaking down your balls, but you don’t care at all right now, with how good it all feels.
Eventually, you come down from your high, and you’re panting in exhaustion watching Winter wipe her mouth. She has a satisfied grin on her face, and she crawls up to you, opening her mouth to show you your own load. She plays around with it with her tongue before you watch her close her mouth, her throat slightly shifting as she swallows your cum, and she completes the erotic display by showing you her empty mouth now, the grin never leaving her face.
“You’re de~licious, honey.
Winter runs a finger down your chest, and she tilts her head slightly, a coy smile displayed across her angelic features now.
“Do you need some time, or…
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
With the way your cock flares to life, you swear you might be able to go on with Winter until the end of time.
She’s the one contact on your phone that shouldn’t be there.
The one person that you wouldn’t reach out to given the gravity of the present situation at hand. You shouldn’t even be in touch with her, but nothing is stopping you in your mind and still, it just seems like all options are exhausted to the point where anything really goes.
You should be back at your hotel room, recuperating after the events of tonight.
But you’re not.
Instead, most people will bat their eyes at you, sitting alone at a bar with a hand raised for another drink to add on the tab. The bartender doesn’t bother to ask how many drinks has it been since you’ve walked in, sliding in another full cup of hard whiskey to replace the empty one that was just downed. That slow heat with a tinge of bitterness sliding down your throat would be refreshing in one case, but on the other hand, it was to drown out the rising feeling within you of how shitty things have been for the past few days? Weeks? Months?
It’s been all downhill since that woman waltzed into your life completely out of nowhere. Feeding into your temptations of a desirable satisfaction that she could only give and–
When the vibrate rumbles your phone across the aged wood, breaking up the sound of the jukebox behind you playing some oldie from the 70s or 80s, something that your parents liked listening to a lot when you were growing up.
Normally, you’d act surprised, but the message and its sender uncovers itself after being hidden away since the last time you and her got together. I still have your location. She texts, bonus points for her to also reach out on your secondary phone, and not the official one.
Imperatively, you’d play it safe and send her the single worded reply, just to be safe. Though the weight of her words over the screen would say otherwise. You text back. Where do I come to pick you up?
There’s a plaza with a small park across from it. Not too far, a five minute drive from where I’m looking at.
Okay. You got it.
You need to be sure.
About what?
You know what. Don’t play dumb.
I’m not.
Ten minutes.
The way that she tells you the time frame sends a small rumble in your stomach. Could be the alcohol for all you know, but recalling the other times that you were behind by a mere minute or two, came to be detrimental for what follows.
Another quick glance to the bartender with a single finger raised up next to the cup, and he already knows. The tip handed to them was also a cool bonus before heading out into the cold of the late night.
–
There aren’t any surrounding lights illuminating the walkways around the park. What only serves best in terms of vision were the light poles glowing around the perimeter to the street when you’re strolling along the walkway, seeing a lone figure standing in front of what appears to be the entryway into the shrouded darkness. No one would be out this late, but there was also no doubt in your mind that it was the same person that you wanted to see. No, needed to see.
Oversized coat. Warm and comfy. Expensive, actually. She could honestly pass as another girl that caught your eye if there was no path crossed prior to this. Turning to your direction, with a sweep of her hair, parting it back over her shoulder while her other hand is neatly in her pocket still, eyelids batting in the low glow, gazing with a glint that makes you think twice for a slight second; then again, you’ve got nothing else better to do - it’s why you called her or she called you. Either way, whoever initiated first now has the other together.
“Were you alone?” she asks, stepping closer into your space, minimizing the distance down the single-digits.
“I’m telling you, it’s just me. Me, my driver Samson, and not anyone on my security detail.” you respond, hands once in your pockets before pulling them out to signify that there was nothing in or on you. “Don’t be so worried. I gave you every assurance that–”
“I just want to make sure that you’re a thousand percent safe.” she adds on, shrugging her shoulders before rolling them back in a relaxed state, letting out this sigh of relief when you also showed her that there was no one behind you or her, let alone have a microphone attached to your body somewhere for someone to listen to the conversation. “You’re really risking everything to meet me like this?”
“Do you want to talk out here? Or can we go back to your hotel?”
“Are you sure that’s–”
“Ryujin.” you say, hand to her shoulder in hopes of keeping her quiet, “let's just go.”
–
Being caught.
The thrill in that is one thing, but keeping it a secret to the entire world was also a challenge. Not to mention that Ryujin was your go-to person to relieve stress. Though, you and her see it in a different scope; one that would blow both of your positions out of the water if a story broke out between the two of you.
“Baby,” she coos, trudging over behind your back, hands snaking around your muscled waist while tending a glass of water, the makeshift tray of used cigarettes on the table next to it. “You’ve been pacing for a few minutes now. It’s concerning me.”
“What’s there to be concerned about for your sake, hmm?” you ask her, puffing out a small cloud of smoke before turning to her. She’s in your dress shirt, the simple tie loosely wrapped around her neck with nothing underneath - she looks gorgeous; and you’re cursing at yourself for not finding her sooner, because the reality of it is, it’s just a really poor scenario of ‘right person, wrong place or wrong time.’ A little disheartening, but you’ll raise a glass to that sometime later.
“What if,” Ryujin starts to ask, unwilling to meet your eyes while her hands laze around your neck. “What if you do lose everything? Is that something that you’ll be okay to tell yourself once all of this is over?”
“By once, you meant because it is over.”
She gives you this look of concern, sympathetic, lending her eyes and ears for you to vent out all of your frustrations; because that’s the least that she could do. Sure, she’s only in your arms because she was willing to listen to everything you’ve told her for months now, despite being a secret to the rest of the world. “What are you talking about? What do you mean over?”
“I mean that I’ve lost everything. From the election, to the team, my inner circle, everyone that’s involved from the campaign, all at the cost of winning.”
“What about–”
“God, Ryujin. Look at us.” you sigh out of frustration, sitting down while your hands slide down to the swell of her ass. “You’re a glorified prostitute benefiting off of my pockets as my way of repaying and–”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“What?”
“We can make this work,” she tells you, both hands holding your face. Her gaze is soft, and dangerously loving. “You’ve made it this far because of the things you realized what needs to be done, and I admire that from you.”
“People will find out about us sooner or later,” you say, feeling her fingers gripping bits of your hair while you’re looking up at her, “I- we shouldn’t be scared, but that's the inevitablity and I don’t want you to be thrust into the spotlight because of my mistake.”
“You know what you signed up for.” she deadpans.
“What are you talking about?”
The next thing that comes out of her mouth leaves you in a state of panic:
“I’m pregnant.”
You can’t respond to the news - not because it’s sudden, but how this changes everything. “Ryujin–” you try to say, when a finger is pressed against your lips. She slides off the loose shirt draped across her shoulders, leaving only skin and the single necktie around her neck.
Suddenly,
You’re reminded of how you got addicted to feeding Ryujin’s line of sex work. How pent up she got when you’re treating her for some food and drinks, replaced with lines of neediness when you’re fucking her rough one meet, slow on the other - watch her take your cock so well until cumming inside her or on her face seems more than enough to keep a frame of mind off of certain things. Her body is amazing, hypnotized right off the bat when she’s straddling you on the chair, lazy hands and wrists nestling the crook of your neck; how her damp pussy is hovering over your hardening cock. And you’ve already sunk a load into her hot cunt, but she knows that you’re gonna give her another; maybe this time in her ass or in her mouth if she’s nice enough to beg.
Imagine the optics: how scandalous this story might be if this broke out in every news media outlet possible.
The damage would be catastrophic while you’re thinking about it, but until then–
“Please, fuck me. Mr. President.”
An announcement will be drafted up to address this affair when the proper time comes.
Prismatic rays dance across the breadth of your wrist, the murky brown of liquid courage paired to a bonfire’s smokiness. The mere touch of the glass to your lips scorches your nostrils - each sip, a smoking powder fuse that sparks its way down your gullet. The sensation perfectly summarizes the past 72 hours - apologies tossed around like bottles of cheap whisky, visceral emotions hastily cobbled together and flung at the nearest organic surface, narratives threads thrown like a fire blanket over a scorching inferno. Nobody can get their story straight. Good or bad, it stings all the same.
It all feels so surreal.
A knock at the door has you shotgun the last bit in your glass before sauntering your way over. You’re not walking nor thinking straight, but in your eyes, first impressions are already out the window. Any semblance of inhibition dulled by ketone breath and clouded judgment
Yet as you open the door, you subconsciously pull yourself together.
Divinity has no place in the realm of man. Yet there she is, leaning against the door frame. She’s the closest thing to a goddess you could get for the low, low price of what’s in your bank account. Her face is the kind you’d dream immortalized on a marble bust, every detail of every feature warranting a painstaking recreation on silk tapestry and hung in the emperor’s antechamber. Her pearlescent features glint underneath the dim hallway lights, the way the light bounces off her porcelain skin in a radiant glow that shrouds her figure. Your eyes begin to wander down to her exposed cleavage courtesy of her low cut blank tank top, but your gaze darts back to meet hers when the first words escape her lips.
“Hi there.”
You’re instantly hooked. Her sultry tone’s laced with a tint of nightshade as it pierces through your heart like a dagger, poisoned thoughts taking root in the abundance of your headspace. You’re silently begging her to drive that blade of hers deeper in, to fill your ears with her voice, and your heart with hers.
Pull yourself together! You chide yourself.
“Are you Mr. Sung?”
You tear yourself away from your lofty delusions to answer that simple question.
“Mmm…!”
And even that you couldn’t do properly.
She giggles.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“My name is Shuhua. You requested my agency’s services and they’ve sent me. May I come in?”
You nod vigorously, and she casually walks past you into the room.
She seems to find your blabber amusing.
As you turn to close the door, you’re greeted by a view of Shuhua’s plump assets swaying under the fabric of her loose cargo pants. The way she dresses feels… off. You expected some combination of raunchy office attire - A practically see-through white office shirt that attempts to conceal a pastel pink lacy bralette underneath, accompanied with a pencil skirt so thin you’d cut yourself running your fingers along it’s hem. Or perhaps a beach wardrobe - a baby blue bikini hidden under an oversized tropical short and ragged torn jean shorts - the perfect middle ground between swimsuit model and homeless bum.
Yet, she makes every bit of her simple outfit work. Functional, yet eye-catching. Sexy, yet modest.
“Hey, are you gonna finish this?” Shuhua playfully asks, holding your half-finished bottle of whisky by the neck.
“Go ahead.” You expect her to daintily pour herself a glass and gently sip on her lukewarm beverage. Instead, Shuhua brings the whole bottle to her lips, tosses her head back and takes a deep swig. A bead of stray golden dew trails down her cheek, but Shuhua swipes it away as she tucks aside the mess of jet black hair from her previous stunt. Despite it all, her expression remains unfazed.
No notions of innocence to uphold.
No effeminate ideals to conform to.
No inhibitions.
She’s all or nothing - You’re all in with a pair of threes. There’s nothing you could ever possibly do that could even come close to approaching the sheer amount of charisma she possesses.
“You know, if you wanted a striptease you could’ve left the agency a note beforehand. At least I would have worn something better suited for the occasion.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense”
“None taken.” She replies, taking a second mouthful from the bottle. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I was hoping you’d take the lead.” You say, eyes fixated on the alcohol in the bottle as Shuhua swirls it in her hand. There’s a short pause as you hear the gears turning in her head.
You’re sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering what Shuhua has in mind when she shoots you a question out of nowhere.
“Ever kissed a girl before?”
You nod.
“Cool. Ever sucked dick before?”
You frantically shake your head, much to Shuhua’s amusement. She lets out a loud chuckle, slowly making her way over to where you’re seated.
“Eh, I didn’t think it would be that easy. Just try not to spit anything out.”
You’re simply perplexed by that last statement, fully expecting Shuhua to be packing a 12-inch strap-on somewhere in those baggy cargo pants of hers, but instead, she takes a deep swig from the whisky bottle before leaving it at the foot of the bed. Within moments, Shuhua has you straddled, your face mere inches away from her. An overwhelming earthy scent of burnt oak tangles with the crisp, floral notes of her body lotion, a barrage of sweet jasmine and scorched bitters that assaults your senses and sends alarm bells ringing.
This feels so wrong.
Shuhua grabs your wrists, familiarizing your hands with the abrasive fabric of her top as she leans in closer. You close your eyes, throwing yourself wholly into Shuhua’s hands as her lips press against yours in an appeal for entry. You accept, and embrace the kiss as whisky trickles from her mouth into yours, a radiant warmth that washes over your throat and gums. Shuhua pulls away, and just as quickly as the heat comes, it leaves, the last remnants a trail of saliva quickly cut by a simple swipe of her hand. She swallows, and you swallow in kind, staring at the roaring flame manifest as it ruffles its hair. She places a hand behind your neck, lazily swiping her thumb against your jawline as she gazes back into your eyes.
“Good job. You can follow instructions. Time for something a little more intense.”
MC’s on a spiral after their partner breaks up with them → Tries to go self destructive, hires an escort to make his potentially last moments with her a little more bearable before he decides to (maybe) off himself?
→ Shuhua’s a perfect fit for the escort - queen of tease, delightfully enchanting, but still human at the end of things
⇒ MC invites Shuhua to his room for sexual services, but after falling for her, he’s unable to give it his all because everything reminds him of her
⇒ Shuhua is unfazed by it; she’s got older clients who suffer from similar issues. She’s just “happy she could help” and thats where MC breaks down (but if that doesn’t fit in 1000 words ig I have a part 2 to write in the future)
From first impressions alone, she’s like a shot through the heart. Second impressions feel like gouging through that wound to find a bullet made of ice - emotions bleeding out like
If god exists, they must’ve sculpted her with their own hand. If else, you’re certain she’s the
“Hi! Are you Seungkwan?”
Her
There’s a subtle twitch in her eye as she greets you. Maybe she’s not used to the
Yel was in despair. She was set to attend a ball but needed a plus-one, and all her group mates had bailed on her one by one, citing other responsibilities. But Rina, being the best big sister Yel could ask for, gave her a link to a much-needed companionship site. Yel was excited; this was her second high-ticket client after Rina. Since Rina recommended her, Yel figured this was a slam dunk.
Frantic, Yel entered the site and selected a man who went by Theo. They arranged to meet at a nearby café the next morning. Theo would be eating scrambled eggs and French toast.
Two Days Earlier
“Yo, Dio, I know you said you were heading to Jeju next weekend, but I'm cashing in that favor,” my friend Sakura informed me. I rolled my eyes and asked, “Okay, what's the situation?”
“My friend needs a date to a fashion ball, and I can't go, but I told her you can. She wants to meet in two days at that café down the street.”
I sighed and responded, “Okay, I'll be there. Tell her I'll be having French toast and scrambled eggs.”
Back to the Present Day
You arrive, order your food, and wait. You wonder what this client will look like, cursing that your company hasn't instituted mandatory pictures for all accounts. I get in a little after you but still early. I order my food and wait patiently. Yel arrives, looking around Zulu Café until her eyes meet mine. She notices my food and sits across from me. I am shocked by how stunning she is. Her smile is as flawless as her lovely tanned skin, while I just look like a potato. Yel smiles at me, and her mind is put at ease.
“Oh good, he's a normal guy. Tall, easy on the eyes… I can make this work,” Yel thinks to herself.
"Theo, right?" Yel asks me. Due to her accent, I assume she meant to say my nickname Dio, so I nod, and she sits down with me. I reach out my hand, and as Yel shakes it, I joke that she is much too pretty to be going with a guy like me.
Yel smiles, thinking, "Oh great, he doesn't take himself too seriously." Her physical reply is a bellowing laugh that causes her hair to bounce up and down. We eat and chat.
While this is going on, Kazuha walks in, sees you eating French toast and eggs while sitting by yourself, and sits down next to you.
Kazuha isn't what you expected, but she's still gorgeous; the raven black hair, the killer body, and kissable lips. You start to crush hard. (Honestly, who would blame you?) She says, "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice."
You dismiss her worries. "All a part of the job," you say kindly, hoping to allay her fears. Kazuha notices your specific words and finds them odd, but she is happy to have a date for this stupid Gala. The two of you chat and bond over a mutual past of dancing ballet, which blows Kazuha's mind. Sakura never mentioned that the guy she would be going with also did ballet, so that was a plus. When we all go our separate ways after sharing contact info, Yel pays the rest of her money for the "companion," and you are on cloud nine.
Day of the Gala
While I am getting ready for the Gala, I am rather stressed. Having grown fond of Yel, I kinda want this to go the distance. A sentiment that you mirror with Kazuha, who is also stressing out.
"Shit!" Kazuha spits out.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
"It's just so many things that can go wrong, and I need the sponsorship," Kazuha sighs, her shoulders clenched.
You smile then jokingly say, "Well I could fuck nerves out of you."
Kazuha smiles as she looks at you, "Oh that would be fantastic I haven't had a good fuck in weeks."
You laugh until Kazuha starts stripping in front of you. She smiles as she encourages you to do so as well.
You laugh and say, "Okay." as you strip. When you are both nude she approaches you before kissing you hungrily. You smile into the kiss as your hands wander her body before Kazuha pushes you onto the bed. She lines herself up with your shaft before taking you in deep. She moans as she rides you for a bit. Relief and ease paint her face as she noticeably calms down. You match her riding with thrusts of your own. Kazuha moans gratefully before saying, "Switch positions with me." you nod as you reluctantly exit her pussy. She lifts her legs and switches to the Anvil position, you hammer her as her pussy greedily accepts your cock. After another few thrusts, Kazuha tires and has you switch again.
"Oh fuck... deeper." she moans, as your cock pierces into her deeper and deeper. Her walls cling to you tightly as you fuck her in the butterfly position. She moans as you continue to violate her, and when she cums you stop to look at your watch.
"Shit we have to get ready," you say
All four of us arrive at the Gala where Kazuha and you are the talk of the town her glow is radiant as she moves through the crowds and people with a grace to match her status as a seasoned Dancer. Yel and I on the other hand are having the time of our life. We own the dance floor, and the social one joking and having fun with any and everyone.
As the night winds down Yel says, "You know Theo it's been fun. I look at her confused and say
"My name is Dio. It's short for Diabolos. I thought Sakura would have told you that."
Yel looks at me mortified before saying. "Who the fuck is Sakura?"
“I’m not leaving until you finally admit it and come help me.”
Your boss promised that this new assignment would be an easy one, but now you're starting to regret even considering taking this job. You’ve dealt with dignitaries, actors, CEOs, anyone that has been in a position of power you’ve dealt with before and none of them have caused you nearly as much trouble as Somi has. It’s only your third week on the job but it’s felt like a lifetime of issues.
“Ms. Somi please. We do this almost everyday, can we finally move past the fact that I don't want to help you pick out what you wear on your date?"
You hear a loud groan from behind the bedroom door. You have already had to deal with Somi not wanting to get out of bed, to her refusing to eat breakfast, to her complaining about what she wants to wear. Everyday is the same routine with her and you're so over it.
"Oh come on oppa! I just need a little help deciding what to wear... Wait, are you nervous you might fall for me if you see me in my underwear?" Somi calls out from the other side of the door with a giggle.
When you first saw Somi you definitely could say that she took your breath away with her beauty. Her short blonde hair, fit body and... well her boobs, were definitely a sight to behold. But after spending everyday with her, that spark has definitely gone away. You've seen too much of her bratty side and it's made her go from an absolute 10/10 to a solid 3/10 in your mind.
"Please, we both know that you're not my type Somi."
"But oppa..." She whines back. "Just come in here and help me!"
You let out a sigh and look down at your watch. It's nearly time for Somi to leave and meet up with her date, whoever that person may be. So you decide to just go in and help her pick something out.
You slowly open up the door and when you turn around, you see Somi standing there with nothing but a bra and a thong on. Your eyes widen and you quickly turn away. The brief look alone was enough to get you imagination running with lewd thoughts.
"Jesus, Somi!" You yell back at her. "Why are you naked?"
"I'm not naked, I have a bra on!"
"Yeah and you have no other clothes on."
Even though you can't see Somi, you know there is a sly grin creeping onto her face. The quick steps of her feet towards you are a clear sign that she is up to no good You can feel her hot breath near your ears as she whispers. "You can look now."
You slowly turn around and Somi is standing there cupping her large breasts in her hands and grinning at you. She squeezes them together and smiles. "How about these oppa? Do they look good?"
You try to keep your eyes from looking down at her chest but it's nearly impossible. The words fail to come to your mouth as your brain tries to comprehend exactly what is going on.
"S-Somi!" You say in a panic. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because," Somi says as she puts her finger to her lip and smiles. "I've seen the way you look at me, especially when I'm working out, and I need some help relaxing before my date."
Somi's eyes move down your body and fixate on your groin. When they settle on it she lets out a slight gasp and giggle right after.
"Oh wow..." She says taking a few steps forward and feeling your cock through your dress pants. "If I had known you were packing this kind of weapon, I would've started teasing you from the get go."
You feel your heart pounding in your chest as Somi begins to rub her hand up and down your cock. A moan escapes your lips as you feel yourself starting to strain against your pants even harder.
Somi looks up at you with a pout. "Oppa, why do you have to hide things like this from me?"
Your eyes look down at Somi who's eyes have turned from playful to lustful. Swiftly dropping to her knees, Somi undoes your belt and fishes your cock out before you can get a word in.
"Fuck me... This is one big cock, oppa." Somi says, grabbing the base of your cock and stroking it up and down slowly.
A moan leaves your lips and you find yourself unable to say no. Her hot breath feels so nice against your cock and you feel yourself growing more excited with each second.
Suddenly you feel her tongue on the underside of your shaft and you look down to see Somi licking up and down the bottom of your shaft. Her eyes are glued to yours the entire time she's licking you. When she reaches the top she parts her lips and takes the head into her warm mouth, sucking on it as if it's the tastiest lollipop she's ever had.
"Somi... This is wrong... We shouldn't be doing this." You say as you try to get Somi to stop.
Somi ignores your warnings and continues to slobber all over your cock. Cupping your balls with one hand, she begins to try and take it down her throat. Seeing the deadly woman struggling to take you down her throat unlocks something inside of you that you didn't know existed. Placing your hand on the back of her head you pull her mouth down further on your cock, forcing it to go past her gag reflex and into her throat.
Somi gags as your cock slides deeper down her throat. Your cock is now halfway down her throat and you're still holding her head there, enjoying the warm and wet feeling of her tight throat around your shaft. Somi tries to pull away but you tighten your grip in her hair and keep her there.
"Fuck Somi!"
Somi's eyes go wide as she feels your cock starting to throb in her mouth.
"You're such a fucking brat. If you want to act like a slut, then I'm going to treat you like one!" You say as you start to fuck her face.
Somi lets out a few gags and moans as your cock slams in and out of her throat. As you're fucking her face you notice Somi reaching down between her legs and playing with herself. The sight of Somi fingering herself while you fuck her face is enough to send you over the edge.
Pushing her head down all the way on your cock, you unload your cum down her throat. Somi's eyes roll back in her head as you cum straight down her throat. Your cum fills up her mouth and pours out down her chin and onto the floor. When you finish cumming you let go of her and watch as Somi falls back before swallowing and looking up at you with a playful look in her eyes.
“Look at you, shaking like a leaf in the wind and I haven’t even taken my top off yet. Are you even going to survive seeing me naked?”
It’s a good thing you’re sitting on the bed, because otherwise, Gaeul’s statement wouldn’t have hit nearly as hard. However, in reality, as she looks down her nose at you, eyebrows furrowed in disdain as she sizes up your shivering frame, every syllable hits.
“Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to do,” Gaeul scoffs, pushing you aside as she leisurely lowers herself onto the bed and allows her obsidian curtain of hair to rest atop the white pillows, creating a beautiful contrast of opposites. “Come then; strip me.”
You do as you’re told, scrambling onto the bed and bowing your head subserviently. With a reverent touch, you begin the holy ritual of disrobing her, starting from her shoes and socks, climbing up her toned calves and creamy thighs until you reach the hem of her skirt and unzip the offending garment. You leave her panties for now, electing instead to lift her shirt above her shoulders and past those twinkling eyes, leaving you with the luscious sight of the luxurious lingerie that Gaeul decided to grace you with tonight.
“Ah ah ah, now’s not the time,” she scolds you. “You can admire the artwork another time, for now, I expect you to do what I demand.”
“Yes mistress,” you hurriedly respond, reaching behind her back and savoring its definition as you unsnap her bra and reveal the hardened peaks of her beautiful breasts. Before your mouth can start watering, you drag your fingertips back down her abdomen, hooking them into the fabric of her panties and pulling them down with a swift tug. With that, Gaeul finally lays bare before you, truly a sight to behold as you ask, “What next, mistress? How may I please you tonight?”
“Keep your clothes on, pet; tonight is about my pleasure and mine alone. Taste me—I want to see what you can do to me with just your fingers and mouth.”
“Yes mistress,” you reply, bowing your head once more and settling into a comfortable position between her thighs. The pads of your fingers glide down the smooth, pale skin, descending until they reach the curves of her calves and then begin their ascent once more. With each passing second, you exhale just a bit harder than you need to, sending wave after wave of warm breath over her glistening core. You consider detouring further, but your train of thought is derailed as—
“Do not make me wait any longer,” Gaeul demands, the slight quiver in her voice betraying the anticipation her unwavering expression hides so well.
“Of course, mistress,” you intone quietly, leaning even closer and extending your tongue, finally savoring the sweetness of her arousal as you simultaneously slide a finger into her waiting warmth. You try—and fail—to hide a grin as a sharp gasp escapes her lips, revealing another hole in her haughty facade.
Gaeul tries—and fails—to contain her moans as you begin to truly move, but as your lips close down onto her clit and you surprise her by skipping two fingers and instead begin harshly fucking her with three, her efforts are quickly proven to be in vain. So instead, her elation rings out clear and true, a beautiful symphony of rapturous pleasures with you as its virtuoso. Your performance quickly leads her to a crescendo, coating your fingers and lips with the savory taste of the metaphorical fruits of your labor, lending you tonight’s first bit of confidence as you hungrily lap away at the juices.
“What next, mistress?” you ask, ever eager to serve.
Gaeul recovers far more quickly than you expected, pushing you back once more as her eyes burn bright and she stands ‘tall’ before you. “On your knees,” she commands.
You oblige.
Immediately. So quickly, in fact, that you have to suppress a grimace as your knees slam into the carpet, but that’s a minor distraction at most, especially when Gaeul stands before you expectantly.
“Again.”
You’re all too willing to begin the next measure, licking and lapping away at her drenched sex like you’ve been trapped in a desert for weeks. The ascent is far quicker this time around, and you’re left supporting her weight as she quivers and shakes as the shivers and quakes overtake her body, leaving her voice raspy as she once again demands, “Again.”
So, you give Gaeul what she wants. With her face down against the bed and her ass in the air. On the way to the shower. In the shower. After the shower, with you on your knees again as she seats herself on the edge of the bed. Then finally, once more as she lounges atop the pillows, poise faltering as you treat her like a queen … all the way until the clock strikes midnight.
“So ma’am, was it everything you hoped for?” you ask, voice suddenly measured and steady as you slip out of your role.
“Of course, you were perfect as always,” Gaeul replies, words still uneven as she desperately catches her breath. Despite her fatigue, there’s a sparkle in her eyes as she pushes herself into a sitting position, just close enough to plant a delicate kiss upon your cheek. “Deposit should have just hit your account and … oh, do you know if you’re available next Thursday afternoon?”
“Mayyybe,” you say, drawing out the syllables long enough to paint a smile on Gaeul’s face. “But nothing so important that I can’t be talked out of it.”
“I have a mandatory company dinner that I need a plus one for,” she explains. “Any interest?”
“I’d have to charge double my normal rate if you expect me to socialize,” you jest, shuddering in mock horror.
“Then I’ll pay you triple to do it with a smile,” Gaeul fires back.
“Now that …” you say, mirroring her smile. “That I can do.”
---------[ Le Sserafim Kazuha - @usedpidemo ]--------
“Fuck.”
It’s a word delivered with half-exhaustion, half pleasure.
To be fair, there isn’t anything to complain about right now. There’s a naked girl bouncing on your lap, lazily rolling her hips on your hardening cock as she notices you’ve finally woken up from your deep slumber. It helps that she’s incredibly pretty.
“Morning.”
She smiles, picturesque and warm, a complete contrast to the particularly lewd motions she’s doing—and what you did last night.
So while you let her ride you on a fine morning, sunlight piercing through the curtains, kissing her pale skin, let’s jog through your memories and see how you got here:
—————
“Fuck!” you shout as the home team runs out to center court in celebration of their championship win. Of course, they can’t hear you through the screen. Still, you’re bashing your fist on the bar table and cursing them all, one by one. You just watched your parlay blow up in complete flames.
Every pundit had the green shirts winning. Despite the overwhelming warnings, you still believed otherwise. This was the reward of your faith: a thousand dollars down the drain. A majority of fellow viewers jump in celebration, presumably on the winning side, but there’s still a few downtrodden and crushed souls in the mix, mostly dedicated and diehard fans. You weren’t one of them; you merely craved the adrenaline of a high stakes bet.
One thing’s for sure: the house always wins. At least you don’t have the burden of a loan shark behind your back.
So while you scramble away from the commotion in the lounge room, trying to clear your mind and senses from the loss, you walk past a girl casually sitting by herself on a couch, leg crossed. As if she’s been waiting for someone, or something. An opportunity. She makes a snarkily delivered comment, along the lines of, “You look a little lonely tonight.”
You wanted no part of her. It’s a tactic quite commonplace: they see a vulnerable guy, convince them to fork over whatever money they have left in exchange for a good time. Something to forget the misery, or another high. Next thing you know, they wake up to an empty room with their wallets also empty. They’re everywhere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She seems no different.
“Fuck off,” is your response before briskly walking quicker.
She realizes she’s found the perfect target: you. Try as she might, it’s oh-so-obvious that she wants you. Stalking from a considerable distance, blending in the background to come off as unassuming, giving you looks that clearly scream ‘Pick me! Choose me!’ whenever your eyes happen to land on her. The only thing really missing is her taking you by the hand and pulling you aside.
—————
“Shit, shit—oh God—” you grunt, watching as your cock disappears in and out of her soaking cunt. The scars of last night still haven’t fully healed yet. If anything, it’s making you worse, and for her, all the better.
“You like that?” She tilts her face at an angle where daylight shines on her pretty face, as if you needed a clearer statement to say she’s drop dead gorgeous. Her dark hair remains perfectly intact, hardly unchanged from the night before, despite the rather messy way you handled her. She’s riding you, moaning between sharp crashes of her hips on your lap. “You like how I ride this cock?”
“Fuck, I do, but—” you hiss, placing a hand on her wrist, your gaze fixated on the sticky wetness building on your cock and around your groin. “Be gentle, be gentle.”
She nods, leaning her face close to yours, slowing her pace to a manageable crawl. “Okay.”
—————
“Let me guess, parlay fucked up?” The girl finally makes a move, sitting beside you in a bar of a different lounge, smiling devilishly. The confidence in her quiet tone should ring a few alarms, but you either have lost hearing, or said alarms have been disabled by her charm. You’re about to play with fire; it’s dangerous.
“Happens to everyone. You’re not the first, and you certainly won’t be the last.”
It should come off as insufferable, insulting, downright disrespectful. Instead, you find yourself completely speechless, allured by her natural smile. Her youthful glow, her figure perfectly fit in a skintight dress—it’s a sight for sore eyes.
“You’re staring.” The girl states the obvious. It’s not gonna stop you, and she doesn’t mind. In fact, she loves the attention. On the other hand, you have the perfect distraction. Both sides win.
“All drinks are on me,” she tells the waiter, gesturing her finger at you, her guest of honor.
Glasses are served almost immediately. You both raise a drink to failure. Failure to hit the parlay, and failure to keep yourself from falling any further. You’re fucked.
After taking a sip, you ask her, rather awkwardly: “You watch sports?”
—————
You don’t remember all the details after that, and that’s fine. Alcohol tends to do that. But what you do remember is extremely vivid: the soft hums and groans that echo inside the bathroom stall. Her tongue wrapped on your cock while she’s on her knees. Her leg coiled around your waist as you pressed her up against the enclosed panel, thrusting up her cunt. Her ass rippling from behind as you fuck her in the comfort of your hotel room. Her body pressed in a spread angle as you fuck her splayed on the bed. And of course, the numerous times your bodies gave out from cumming so much.
There’s another detail you forget, the most crucial one: “I forgot your name, what was it again? I’m sorry.”
She chuckles, hides the laughter behind her hand. “You never asked.”
“Really?” You feel a little ashamed.
“Don’t worry about that for now—” she says, squatting her ass on your lap, grinning naughtily. It’s easy to sweep your mind away from superfluous thoughts when you have a hot girl bouncing on your cock, her tits being handfuls in your palm, her hair twirled around your fingertips, and her moans echoing on loop, occupying the space in your head where you should be thinking about the future.
Soon enough, you find yourself on edge, about to surrender. “Gonna cum, gonna cum—” you tell her, your body aching in despair, and it arouses her further, quickening her pace to maddening, erratic levels—a place that you shouldn’t be in. She’s now leaning back, her hands gripped to your knees, giving you a clear view of the incoming disaster: your cock pistoning in and out of her pussy, so drenched and fully coated in her sheen and slick that it’s alarming.
And you orgasm not long after, spilling into her needy cunt with a thick burst of load as she crashes her hips into your groin one last time. Her lithe frame going rigid, violently trembling, her jaw going slack, eyes completely shut as she lets the heat of your cum wash over her senses. “Oh baby—right there, just like that—it feels so good—”
As you continue to spurt into her heat, you appreciate the finer, overlooked details: her slender waist, her toned abs and stomach, her cute voice whenever she opens her mouth. Most importantly, the fact that she never stops talking, never stops making a sound even while you were fucking her.
She lets out this deep, satisfied gasp. Clambering off your waist, she heads into the bathroom to clean up, the last image of her being your sheen dripping down her thighs. You just lay there. Exhausted, drained, fulfilled.
Until you hear the subtle creak of the door. And the rumbling in your stomach. That’s when you finally decide to get up.
Then you remember you never got her name. She’s gone, just like that. You’re beating yourself up for being forgetful and in the moment, until you notice a note written on the desk:
So here you are, running late to a restaurant across town Lisa reserved a table for you and this Kim Jennie. The name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t remember from where.
The hostess guides you to the table, politely informing you that your date arrived and was already seated. You open your mouth to thank her, but you stop before any words come out because you know this woman you’re walking towards.
This woman who was, still probably is, out of your league during your teenage years. The very same woman you had the biggest crush on, but knew there would never be a chance.
Jennie’s dressed modestly. A tan headband keeps her hair neat, strands falling along her black sweater with the white collar peeking through. Her head’s down, attention on her phone, that she doesn’t see you or the hostess approaching.
Once you get closer, Jennie slowly lifts her head up, eyes widening once she meets your gaze. She recognizes you, mouth slightly opening before composing herself. She stands as gracefully as ever when you get to the table, bowing as you do the same.
You aren’t sure what to say as you settle into your seats, awkwardly shooting each other shy glances across the table.
“So…” You clear your throat, slipping into the mask of cool confidence, even though it’s derailed. You can’t be the alias you use since Jennie knows who the fuck you are. “Um, this is a bit… unexpected.” You didn’t know what to say without sounding weird.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” Her voice just as you remembered.
You shake your head, not wanting her to take any blame. It’s no one’s fault. You doubt Lisa knew you’d know one of her friends, let alone a friend who needed someone like you. You tell her just that, easing some of her nerves as her face relaxes.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We could just have dinner, and I’ll tell Lisa not to charge you or whatever,” You say as smoothly as possible, hoping this would appease her. Your teenage self would have died to be at some fancy restaurant with Kim Jennie, a dream come true. You hardly kept a conversation with her in the classroom, let alone didn’t have the nerve to speak to her in the hallways, so this is an accomplishment in itself. “What do you say? Think of it as old friends catching up?”
Even though you weren’t ever friends. You weren’t remotely close to her, barely a blip on her radar. It was all for appearances sake.
This time, Jennie’s smile reaches her eyes, an adorable gummy one that has you internally swooning. You hope she doesn’t notice you blushing, so you divert to drinking water.
“What if I wanted more than dinner?” Jennie raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up.
You lean forward, intrigued. “What else did you have in mind?”
“I want to experience what they say, you do come highly recommended,” Her voice purrs seductively, dropping an octave. “I’ve asked around.”
"Ow! Sorry!" Hanni yelps, rubbing her forehead as you lead her through your apartment. The hanging lamp sways with the impact, dust scattering on piles of books and stacks of unused plates.
"Are you sure you want to do it like this?" You ask, turning around to look at the girl. A white wool coat stays fastened around her waist with a golden clasp, the thin blouse underneath loosely tracing her neckline. It's as if she wasn't quite sure how the clothes fit, but they ended up looking gorgeous on her anyways.
"I-I am. It'll be fun, sir! Once I work the kinks out." Hanni grins, tightening the large blindfold around her head. You can't help but notice how she's biting her lip, head swiveling like she's trying to figure out where she is.
"Sir is a bit much, don't you think?" you chuckle, grabbing Hanni's hand and leading her into your bedroom.
"Wony said it turns you on! Doesn't it? .....Sir?" Hanni retorts, giggling as her bare feet land on your rug.
You sit on the edge of your bed. "Maybe, but isn't the point of ordering through the app that you should know what turns me on?"
Hanni pouts, blowing out her cheeks, the blindfold sliding a bit as she cocks her head. "I'm still getting used to it okay! Plus, you know, she said that you'll teach me...sir."
Silence, except for the faint hum of air-conditioning fills the room. Hanni starts swaying from side to side, her pout turning melting away, her small hands tracing the outline of her blazer on her hips.
"And what am I supposed to... teach you?" You bark, or try to, your throat drying up, eyes glued to the faint outline of Hanni's tits, shifting from side to side underneath her blazer, teasing you.
A smile dances of the girl's lips. She's not shifting on the balls of her feet anymore, but dancing; elegantly swaying in place, hands tracing the edge of her chin, her collarbone, grabbing the edge of her blouse and lifting it up to show you just a little bit of her toned stomach.
She leans forward, "Sir..." The word is a drawl, her pink lips wet as she draws the blazer down her shoulders. You're leaning forward now too. Wonyoung said she was an amateur, that you were going to be her first. What kind of amateur moves their body like this?
As if she knows you're there, Hanni giggles, the blazer hitting the floor with a dull thump, "You're supposed to teach me how to be a good little whore sir, the kind that, yknow, sells."
You're salivating now, her soft, exposed skin a welcome change. Your breaths are deeper, heart beating out of your chest. "I'm gonna turn the lights down, strip for me?"
Hanni smiles wide at your request, doing a mini fist pump as you move around her. "Oh my god, you're turned on sir? Like, hard and everything?" She giggles as you grab her ass on the way back to the bed, the soft, yellow light on your nightstand enveloping the waiting girl.
"Shh, lesson one. Blowjobs." You start, your voice low, trying to sound calm, ignoring your cock straining against your boxers.
Hanni breaths in, clasping her hands together "Oh, yes! Okay, okay. Do I... Woah!"
"Kneel? Yes." You finish, your hands on Hanni's bare shoulders, your legs spread, the smaller girl pushed in between them.
Hanni bites her lip, "Wony's always so loud in the other room, always, so..." She leans in, lips open, sticking her nose close to your crotch, breathing faster as she smells you, her mouth hanging open.
"Hanni, i'm gonna take this off okay?" Your hands find the straps on her shoulders, playing with them between your fingers.
"Yes, yes, please, sir, you smell...nice." She's giggling again, looking up at you, the blindfold only accentuating her stupid smile.
You reach down, bringing the blouse above her head. Hanni cranes her neck forward while you do it, lips still open, nose sniffing, not seeing anything, as if she's trying to stay as close to your crotch as possible.
"You have beautiful tits" You whisper, and Hanni gives you a small smile, clutching her hands around her chest. "Sorry sir, you're the first one to, you know..."
"I know." you whisper, taking her fingers in yours, Hanni looking up at you, not quite knowing where you are, her mouth opening in an "o' when she feels you guide her to hold the edge of your waistband.
"Can I... sir?" She asks, softly, leaning forward, pink nipples hard in the low light, looking up at you. You almost regret adding blindfolding as a kink in your profile, you'd love to see her eyes right now.
"Go ahead." you shift forward to the edge of the bed, leaning on your elbows to give her a better angle. Hanni pulls down your boxers fast, her open mouth curling into a smile as your cock stands in the cold air conditioning.
You feel Hanni's breath on the tip of your cock, but with the blindfold, she's just holding still, hands reaching for your thighs, lips puckered as she cutely tries to kiss the air.
"Stop, stick your tongue out." you chuckle, and Hanni gulps. "Y-yes sir!" her wet tongue slowly lolling out. Her hands are on her knees now, and you wish you could take a mental picture of how her perky tits sway with each needy breath, of how a line of saliva drips down from the edge of her tongue onto the carpet, of how her bare back arches, neck craning, as if she can't wait for the moment your cock finally touches her panting lips.
You rest your hand on the top of Hanni's head, the girl panting even harder, whining as you gather up her hair into a messy ponytail, your other hand gripping the base of your already leaking cock.
You smirk, you have got to thank Wonyoung for this later.
You lean forward, tilting Hanni's head up to you, her hands leaving her knees to scramble onto your bare thighs. "Please... please..."
Dark, mysterious, and sinfully taboo, dive into the world of paid intercourse with the largest selection of escort themed stories. From budding sexual entrepreneurs to hauntingly sweet "almost" lovers, this is a compilation to be enjoyed by all who want an inside look into an industry normally hidden underground.
-------------------🔞Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4🔞-------------------
Hi! :DD I just wanted to give a huge thank you to all the writers involved in this project! Friends, you guys were a joy to work with, and to all the readers who come across our compilation, I sincerely hope you guys take the time to check out each of these amazing writers' blogs! I'm immensely thankful that they poured their time and effort into this, and they deserve all the credit and praise. <:)
The following can be considered an alternate ending to the Business Trip series - although it can just as easily be read on its own. :)
---
The first few weeks together as an official couple were wonderful. Honeymoon phase and all that. Moving in together, domestic bliss. Fucking like rabbits, of course. But problems arose - became noticeable, and then unavoidable. Two of them, actually.
Problem 1: Your job.
Problem 2: Her job.
---
Problem 1: You’d thought business trips were a thing of the past. They weren’t.
You were happy to put the little adventure you’d had in Seoul and Tokyo behind you. Since then you’d done your best to decline any opportunities to engage in similar trips - feigning illness, sending underlings in your place, handling as many meetings as you could remotely. These days your life consisted of long, sometimes draining days at the office - a far cry from the brushes with danger and law enforcement that characterized your most recent trip overseas. Your days at work were boring and mundane now, but you were at home, and that was what mattered.
Home, after all, was where she was.
Regardless, the allure of another trip still came calling every now and then, tempting you, enticing you into spending a couple of weeks or months overseas where anything could - and sometimes did - happen.
Sometimes that allure took physical form. Sometimes it came waltzing into your office wearing a tight blouse and a pencil skirt. Sometimes it was named Shin Ryujin. Other days it was named Hwang Yeji, or Lee Chaeryeong. Today, as with most days, it was named Shin Yuna.
“Ryujin and Yeji are on-site in Busan, and Chaeryeong is in Seoul, waiting for her flight to join them. Lia sustained injuries in our last operation and isn’t medically cleared for this one, but she’s recovering well. Ryujin has begin surveillance on our competitors’ teams - codenamed New Jeans and Le Sserafim - and she is ready to proceed with next steps once you arrive,” Yuna says, eagerness evident in the tone of her moderately Korean-accented english. “Shall I make travel arrangements for us to join them?”
For the first time since she walked into your office you look up from the reports on your laptop. You don’t miss the small bite the young woman is giving her lower lip, nor the way she has crossed her legs and begun leaning her wide hips against your desk. It takes more restraint than you were willing to admit not to steal a glance at her long pantyhose-clad legs and the tight charcoal pencil skirt they led to. You find the self-control to keep eye contact with your eager young executive assistant, even if her body language and tone of voice made her intentions clear and easy to read.
“Give me a second to finish reviewing Ryujin’s report,” you answer, returning your full attention to the screen in front of you. “I’ll confirm whether I need to be on-site by end of day, and if so you can make the necessary arrangements then.”
Despite her best efforts, Yuna can’t hide the small twinge of disappointment that makes its way across her soft features. She’d been looking forward to the thirteen hour flight with you and the opportunities it would present.
“Oh, and…” she begins, her tone a little less upbeat now that you’d at least temporarily dampened her excitement. “You have a visitor. It’s Detective-”
“Let her in,” you interrupt. Yuna frowns, offers a short bow - a lingering habit from her Korean upbringing - and steps back toward the door to your office. She swings it open, and you catch the look of disdain on her features when she waves in your visitor.
Im Nayeon pushes past Yuna and into the office. She gives Yuna a sharp look as she passes the younger woman, and even from your chair you can sense the venom in it. The detective sits down in the chair opposite your desk, legs and arms crossed. She is dressed plainly, in a short denim skirt and a leather jacket, the glimmer of her badge on a chain around her neck the only clue as to her profession. She drops a large paper bag onto your desk.
“Please let me know if you need anything else, sir-”
“That will be all, Yuna,” you answer.
Before your executive assistant has a chance to close the door, Nayeon turns her head and squeezes in one last shot.
“Cancel his next hour, Miss-”
“My name is Yuna,” the young woman at the door answers, crossing her arms, scowl painted on her lips.
“Whatever,” Nayeon retorts, flatly. “Clear his schedule for the next hour. Oh, and do be a dear and lock the door.”
Out of the corner of your eye you catch two things - the barely restrained scoff on Yuna’s lips, and the satisfied sneer on Nayeon’s. With one last look of scorn directed at the back of the detective’s head, the younger Korean woman closes the door with a little more force than was necessary. The click of the lock engaging follows shortly after, as does the heavier than usual click-clack of her heels as she stomps away in obvious irritation.
“You have a thing for executive assistants with hips,” Nayeon observes. “Although this one’s much more of a brat than the last one.”
“Be nice,” you say, although you can’t keep the smirk from appearing on your lips as you continue to scroll through the report on your laptop. “She grew up in Korea, so she’s useful whenever I’m in-country. And she’s not a bad person.”
“I know,” Nayeon relents. “But the more of a cunt I am to her, the more she gets off on being a little fucktoy for you. I bet she gets off on thinking that you’re fucking her without me knowing. I bet it makes her so wet.”
Your smirk turns into a slim smile, and it becomes difficult to keep your eyes on the report in front of you.
“Am I wrong?” she contests.
“No,” you admit, finally turning to give her your full attention. “In fact, I’m about to hop on a plane with her to Korea in a couple of days. I expect it will be an… eventful flight.”
“Good,” Nayeon states, satisfied. “I bet she’ll be a good little girl for you, now that she’s received another reminder of how much you need some time away from your queen bitch of a girlfriend.”
She smiles - this one warm, soft - the smile that caught you in its clutches all those years ago and never let go. She turns momentarily to face the door.
“Oh, yeah, baby, fuck, you’re so big in me, fuck me! Fuck, this is the best dick I’ve ever had!” she exclaims in faux-pleasure, ensuring she was loud enough for the exasperated executive assistant sitting just outside your door to hear. You couldn’t help but chuckle.
“We can fuck at home later. I just wanted to piss her off,” Nayeon admits, a sly smile on her lips. “Anyway, pull up House of the Dragon?”
“Already on it,” you answer, swinging your laptop screen around so you can both watch. Nayeon pulls containers of take-out sushi from the paper bag.
She swaps your salmon for her tamago.
She leans over your desk as she passes you your chopsticks. She gives you a warm kiss, and the smile she leaves on your lips stays there for the rest of the day.
---
Even after all these years, she never tired of the collar and its leash.
It was showing signs of wear, of course - the bright fire engine red had faded into a softer, paler shade, the chain was no longer as shiny, and there was more than one set of her teeth marks on it from particularly frisky sessions - but she never missed a chance to put it on when the mood struck, and you never missed a chance to put it on her.
For now you are content to let the chain dangle freely in your left hand, watching the light streaming in from the open window as it plays on its metallic links. The chain glimmers in the morning light against her pale, creamy skin, swaying and occasionally bouncing along with her movements.
The chair you are sitting on protests with the weight and movement the both of you make atop it. Her soft sighs and gasps - a far cry from the loud shouts and moans you knew she was well capable of - happily cancel out the furniture’s squeaking protests as she rides you atop it. Soft, sensual, slow. The perfect fuck for a perfect morning.
You do your best to just sit there and savour the moment, letting Nayeon do all the work as she grinded back and forth on your lap. As much as you enjoyed watching her bounce up and down atop you, taking your full length in and out of her body - taking special delight in the delicious bounce it gave her breasts and thighs - there was something to be said for the intimacy of the way she was riding you now, slowly and softly. It gave her a chance to grind her slick, swollen clit against your crotch, and while it only let a third or so of your cock slip in and out of her hot, slippery cunt with each entry and exit, each movement nonetheless caused a warm spike of pleasure to course up your spine as your cock moves around inside her.
She was so beautiful, so utterly ethereal and intensely erotic all at the same time - clothed simultaneously in perfect golden sunlight and slick sweat, saliva, and other fluids. She was ethereal beauty and dirty sex. She wore both, was utterly enrapturing in both, was equally comfortable in both.
You watch each movement of her body - a body you knew well, knew every peak and curve and valley of - and you never tired of it. You watch as her round, full thighs flex and work, as her tight core drives her lower body back and forth, as her small, perfect breasts sway and bounce. Her face is immaculate, soft features twisted and wracked by pleasure. Sweat glistens over all of it. It makes her perfect skin glisten and glimmer in the sunlight.
You take a moment to look over her shoulder at the dressing mirror behind her, relishing the sight of her back - the beautiful curve of her spine and the sweat dripping down that delicious valley; the round cheeks of her ass and the muscles beneath them as they work to fuck herself on your cock; the short glimpses of your balls as she moves back and forth, takes you in and out of her body. Even her hair, having started the morning pulled into a messy bun, has become disheveled and loose - but in a way that is enticing and alluring, glued to the back of her neck and upper shoulders by perspiration.
Your right hand, resting on her thigh, snakes a path up her body - up her chiselled abs, cupping a soft breast and delighting in the tightness of her nipple as you capture it with your thumb and index finger and give it a pull, a twist, a pinch. Her pussy pulsates in response around you. She is sighing and moaning her pleasure when your hand continues its journey, sliding up a sweaty neck until you reach the side of her face.
Her eyes, shut, drift open at your touch.
You give the chain a jerk forward.
Her entire upper body crashes against yours at the sudden pull at her neck. Your lips find and capture hers, and for a few moments you share a passionate, heavy kiss. As your tongues duel you give her a slight thrust upward with your hips, timed to meet the apex of her grind - and she sighs into your mouth at the movement, eyes shutting again, nails digging into your shoulders.
Spurred by her reaction, you continue to thrust upward as best you can given your sitting position. Her cunt, already so wet and slick and hot, clenches around you with each thrust, welcoming you, taking you.
“Oh god,” she sighs, the first full words either of you have spoken in a while. “Oh god, I’m close-“
Her sentence breaks into a moan, a soft, wordless cry of pleasure as you continue your thrusts upwards into her body. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, burying your face against her warm, moist chest. You lick the sweat from between her dangling breasts. You savour each moan that leaves her mouth, heavy and hot, directly into your ears.
The chain drops from your left hand, its end falling with a soft clink onto the hardwood floor of your apartment. Forgotten for now, because the faux, pretend-ownership it represented was no longer needed, was perhaps never necessary.
She orgasms around you - pussy clenching, lungs emptying of breath as she cries her pleasure into your bedroom. Your hands find themselves clutching at her moist, sweaty back, hugging her to you, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.
“Your cum, inside me,” she hisses, her voice soft and almost vulnerable in your ear, still at the height of her orgasm. “Please, I want, I need it, please.”
Im Nayeon knew you - knew every part of what made you tick. She knew what you wanted to hear, knew when you wanted to hear it.
You thrust upward into her clenching, creamy cunt one last time. Every part of her body surrounds you, wraps itself around you: she buries your head into her chest, fingers interwoven into your hair, cradling you with her arms and legs as her cunt clenches and tightens around your cock.
Your shaft spurts warm, thick cum into her. She lets a sigh leave her breathless lips with each pulse of your cock inside her, knowing each one was another rope of cum that would bind your bodies even further together.
Your fluids mix inside her, eventually sliding out between the pussy lips stretched tight around the base of your cock. It drips down your shaft, your balls, and onto the chair. You are sticky everywhere - on your sweaty chests, your slick thighs, but especially where you are joined together, your shaft still embedded hilt deep inside her. You are glued together, made one.
You sigh into her chest, and the nails that had dug furrows into your scalp now stroke it softly. The exhaustion hits you both at once, and for a few wonderful moments the only sound either of you can hear is the sound of heavy breathing.
Her hands eventually slide from your scalp. Her turn now to cradle your face in her hands. Your faces hover in front of each other, noses barely touching, half-lidded, pleasure-ridden eyes locked on one another.
For a moment her left hand moves to her neck, where she undoes and releases the clasp of the red leather collar. It slips from her body and falls to the floor.
“I belong to you,” she says, breathless, not needing some scrap of leather around her neck to convince you of it - not that she ever needed such a thing to begin with. Her hands cradle your face, palms on each cheek, like you are the most delicate thing in the world. Your arms wrap themselves even tighter around her soft, trembling torso. Your foreheads touch, your eyes close.
“I know,” you answer. “I always have.”
Later that morning, when she is snoring peacefully, you slip out of the bed. Your flight to Korea wasn’t until later that afternoon, and so you had some time to spare before you had to leave the house, and her, for god knew how long. Every part of you wanted to lie there in bed with her and savour every moment of it, not knowing when you’d next be able to do so - but you had decided the night before that something needed to be done, and there was no better time to do it.
You fire up the coffee maker - you’d both settled into specific domestic roles since moving in together, and you were almost immediately appointed Minister of Caffeinated Beverages - and take a seat at the kitchen island with your laptop.
A few minutes later, and you’d begun an email to JYP informing him of your intention to resign your position following the end of your next business trip.
Distance had taken her from you once, and it wouldn’t do it again.
---
“Is she being a good girl?”
“Yes, Nayeon,” you say, your answer somewhere between a sigh and a hiss as you press your phone close to your ear, ensuring only you could hear the voice on the other side of the call. You made sure to use her name, as she’d previously suggested, knowing what hearing it would do to the young woman you were currently sharing a hotel room with.
Between your legs, Yuna gives the tip of your cock a swirl with the end of her tongue. Those large doe eyes glance up at you, the mention of your girlfriend’s name giving the topless young woman a small spike of wicked delight. You watch with a measure of your own satisfaction as she pumps your cock with one hand, the other fondling her own small, round breast and the tight nipple atop it. After a moment her hand drifts down her body, between her legs - and soon after she begins to sigh and moan around a mouthful of your shaft as she begins to pleasure herself.
“Good,” Nayeon continues. “I told you she would be. Did you fuck her on the plane, too?”
“Yes, we’ve started the operation. And yeah, Korea’s hot this time of year,” you say, keeping up the false pretence you both agreed upon.
“Let me guess - she’s on her knees? Are you fucking that pretty little mouth of hers?”
“Not yet,” you answer, “I think I’ll let the team continue to observe before we move.” Your eyes drift closed as the pleasure begins to build. You lean your head back slightly as the young woman between your knees increases her pace. What Yuna lacked in experience and technique, she more than made up for with enthusiasm.
On the line, you hear a soft sigh. A moment later, the sigh turns into a barely audible moan.
“What about you?” you ask. “Are you busy? How’s work?”
“Fine. I’m… alone. In a squad car.”
“On a stakeout?”
“We prefer the term ‘distanced surveillance,’ but yes, a stakeout.”
“You miss me?”
“Fuck,” you hear, followed by a soft hum. “Yes, I miss you,” she admits.
A thousand miles away, you smirk. The image of Nayeon alone, in her car, in an alleyway, a hand down her pants, touching herself to the sound of her boyfriend getting head from another woman - it aroused you more than the young woman between your knees, truth be told.
“Do you… miss me?” she asks.
You reach out with your free hand, cradling the side of Yuna’s head, running your fingertips through the bright red strands. She redoubles her efforts at your touch - she quickens her pace, her hand squeezing tighter around your shaft as her head continues to bob up and down its length.
“Fuck, I want you right now, Nayeon,” you hiss, knowing what repeating her name would do to the younger woman filling her mouth with your shaft. “I wish you were here.”
Between your legs, the moan Yuna lets out around your cock sends a delicious pulse of pleasure up your spine. On the line, Nayeon lets a similar moan escape her lips.
“Tell me what you would do to me,” Nayeon says, tone low and deep, the way it was when she was desperate, needy. “I bet she’d do it for you.”
You bite your lip for a second - listening to Nayeon’s increasingly breathless sighs and picturing her becoming a writhing, wet little mess in her car, watching Yuna try and fail to wrest your attention away - taking it all in, savouring every second of the two women, a thousand miles apart, each doing their best to pleasure you in their own way.
“I’d pull your mouth off my cock,” you say, gripping the base of Yuna’s ponytail and easing her off your shaft. She looks up with you with those large doe eyes of hers, momentarily confused, temporarily disappointed at the sudden emptiness in her mouth - until she quickly catches on to your intentions.
“Mmm, more,” Nayeon says, on the verge of a plea.
“I’d tell you to strip, and get your cunt on my cock like a good little girl.”
And just as she predicted, Yuna does exactly that - peels off ridiculously short denim shorts she wore, along with the flimsy scrap of string beneath it that passed for a thong. She climbs atop you, straddles your waist, reaches between your bodies, grasps your slick cock and spends just a second rubbing your head against her dripping, slick lips.
And then she takes you inside her. On the line, Nayeon hears that unmistakable gasp you made whenever you entered her own cunt, and it drives her crazy. Her fingers work quickly between her legs.
A thousand miles away, you watch as Yuna bounces her young, tight little body on your cock - up and down, up and down, up and down. She is rough, fast, impatient, with little technique but plenty of need.
Your free hand grips a thigh before snaking up her torso, gripping a soft, bouncing breast and pinching the taut nipple between two fingers and giving it a slight slap from the side that elicits a yelp of pleasure from the young woman. Your cock stretches her tight little cunt with each entry, filling her up, making her need more, want more, making her lose her control over her senses - not that she had much to begin with.
She is enthusiastic, needy - but she is clumsy in her movements, inexperienced, drunk on the idea of being used and fucked and not possessing the control to savour the moment, make it anything more memorable than a messy, quick fuck.
She sighs and moans. “Daddy,” she gasps, uncaring now of being heard on the line, forgetting that you were supposed to be fucking her on the down low, under your girlfriend’s nose. “Daddy please, I need… Daddy please, your cum, inside me, I want-”
You remind her of her place by closing your hand around her throat. Not enough to cause pain, but enough to remind her of what she was - a fucktoy. Something to warm your cock while you were apart from the woman you really wanted. A substitute for a woman a thousand miles away.
“Is she… is she good for you?” Nayeon asks, voice betraying the fact that she was bringing herself to the edge. She’s wet and squirming and sighing - but she’s alone, in her car, far away.
Her fingers aren’t you.
Yuna continues to fuck herself on your cock, recklessly and wildly, her orgasm doing little to slow or stop her. You watch as she bites down hard on her lower lip, enough to draw blood, doing her best to keep herself from vocalizing the pleasure coursing through her body and only partially succeeding. You knew she’d be especially loud once you’d ended the call. You consider pretending to end it but leaving the line open, just to give Nayeon the satisfaction of hearing what Shin Yuna sounded like when she was being bent over the bed and having her tight little pussy pounded full of cum.
Your fingers tighten around Yuna’s neck as she bounces with an increasingly wild pace atop your cock. It forces her to slow down, forces her to submit to you and your needs. It reminds her of her place, reminds her who she was. It was necessary.
A makeshift leash.
“She’s good, Nayeon,” you admit. “But she’s not you.”
---
“Alright, I have to admit - she’s pretty fucking perfect for you.”
“There’s something I never thought I’d hear you say,” you admit, looking up from your laptop and the report on it to give Shin Yuna a look. The young woman is lounging about on her stomach your hotel room bed, picking away at a plate of room service french fries. She’d taken a shower, but hadn’t bothered to put her clothes back on after you’d bent her over the bed and fucked a load into her.
“She’s a bitch, don’t get me wrong,” she continues, tone casual, as though she weren’t naked on her boss’ hotel room bed with his cum still warm inside her. “But she’s really fucking pretty, and she’s a cop? Man. That’s a dream girl for most guys, you have to admit.”
“I suppose,” you say, flatly. “Where are you going with this, Yuna?”
“Nowhere,” she answers, popping another fry into her mouth. “I was just curious, I guess.”
“About?”
“About why you’re not married yet. About why there aren’t little hellspawn baby versions of her running around in your life.”
The thought is finally enough to wrest your attention from the report for good. You give the young woman atop your bed a look.
“Listen, I think it’s hot as fuck to be some exec’s fucktoy,” Yuna continues. “I just want to make sure I’m not the thing that’s keeping him from marrying the love of his life or some shit.”
“You’re not stopping anything, Yuna,” you state, clearly, ensuring that she didn’t form any wrong impressions. You certainly didn’t want her to overestimate her role in your life. “Trust me,” you add.
“So then what is stopping you? You’re in love, aren’t you?” Yuna continues. “I’ve heard all about your past with her from the company grapevine, and Dahyun filled me in on the rest. College sweethearts finding each other again in a foreign land after so long apart - that’s cute as fuck. So why isn’t there a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly?”
You are struck temporarily wordless by your executive assistant’s forwardness, but the answer comes to you eventually.
“We’re not ready yet,” you state.
Yuna seems satisfied with your answer - or at least, isn’t curious enough to pursue it further. She gives you a shrug before she picks up her phone and begins to scroll on it. “Whatever you say, boss,” she says.
You return your attention to your laptop, and the resignation email to JYP that was sitting in your drafts. Sending it would mean leaving a career that, in many ways, had defined you. Yes, it had played a major role in bringing Nayeon back into your life, but were you really ready to give up the adventures in distant lands, not to mention all the romance and intrigue and excitement said adventures brought with them?
Your cursor hovers over the send icon.
—
Problem 2: Her job.
As it turned out, JYP was more than happy to do whatever it took to keep you with the company - even if it meant giving you a tidy little promotion along with a promise to make any further business trips entirely optional. That was Problem 1 solved, then - leaving only Problem 2.
For the most part, Nayeon did a good job of keeping her work at work and not taking it home with her. Every now and then she’d vent about a particularly hard case she was on, or tell you about how something an actor did in a movie or tv show was wildly inaccurate compared to standard law enforcement procedures in the real world. By and large you could almost forget that she was a senior detective who regularly found herself in situations the average person might consider dangerous.
This was all to say that you only rarely gave Nayeon’s profession any thought, had you not noticed the breaking news report playing on the large TV screen in the JYP lobby on your way back from lunch one afternoon.
A reporter, apparently on scene, is speaking into the camera - but the TV is muted, and the captions are not turned on. Behind him civilians flee from a building under the guidance of two understandably anxious-looking uniformed police officers with their sidearms drawn. “Active hostage situation underway at downtown bank,” read the ticker. “Multiple hostages and casualties reported.”
You were ready to give it no further thought aside from a passing sense of disappointment at the general state of crime in your country, had you not caught a fleeting glimpse of her on the screen.
In the background, behind the reporter, Nayeon steps into frame, her back to the camera - but it was unmistakably her. She flashes the badge around her neck to the two uniformed cops nervously holding the bank entrance door.
You watch as she draws her sidearm from the holster at her hip, racks the slide to chamber a round, and rushes into the building.
--
To say the next few hours were absolutely nerve wracking would be an understatement.
Yes, you’d known that danger and the possibility of being hurt were part and parcel of being a member of active law enforcement. You were in the room when she was quite literally shot at close range in Seoul - a few layers of kevlar being the only thing that kept her from bleeding out on a dirty apartment floor.
You’d done your best to avoid having to deal with the reality that your girlfriend had a relatively dangerous profession. Maybe it was a subconscious thing - maybe your brain knew that living every day in fear of your girlfriend losing her life was not exactly conducive to a healthy relationship - or a healthy mental state.
Whatever the reason, it didn’t really hit home until that day. You’d never been so worried in your life, staying glued to the TV and your phone and news sites, pacing nervously alone in your apartment, grasping for any snippet of an update that would confirm she was okay, that she was safe. Needless to say she wasn’t picking up her phone, and a call to her precinct lieutenant went unanswered.
You’d learn later that she was never in any actual danger - the gunfire she’d heard turned out to be warning shots fired into the ceiling to intimidate the bank staff. Nayeon, who’d been passing by the building randomly on her lunch break, had decided that civilians were in immediate danger and entered the bank on her own volition, cleared out the remaining customers from the bank lobby, and held down the hallway leading to the safety deposit boxes where the suspects were holed up until SWAT arrived.
As the first responder to the scene, protocol demanded she remain on-site until it was resolved, explaining the length of her absence. She wasn’t actually in danger for very long, she’d later insist.
But she knew none of that when she rushed into the building, gun in hand. For all she’d known there could have easily been a suspect pointing an assault rifle down the hallway, finger on the trigger, just waiting for an eager young detective to stray into his sights. Moreover, her nine millimetre sidearm and lack of kevlar would’ve put her in a precarious position had they decided to make an escape using force.
Nonetheless, you were more relieved than you’d ever been in your life when she finally called to tell you she was on her way home - eight hours and forty-nine minutes since you’d made your first unanswered call to her cell phone (the first of thirty).
Your heart let out the breath it had been holding for nine hours.
---
When she finally got home it was a lot, all at once.
It was relief, mostly, and then reassurance, and comfort, followed shortly by an irresistible, intense lust. Danger never failed to get Im Nayeon going.
Within seconds of bursting through the door she was already on you, arms wrapped around your neck as yours wrapped around hers, lips searching for and quickly pulling yours into a deep, passionate kiss. Her leather jacket quickly leaves her body, her fingers immediately going to work on your button-up. While this hurried undressing was happening, when your lips parted long enough to draw in a breath, she’d tried, in broken sentences, to fill you in on what had happened.
You pieced enough together from her jumbled words to get an idea of how her day went, and how she wasn’t allowed to contact you until the incident was resolved. You wanted to ask her more, wanted to know more about what exactly happened, but she was in no mood for talking. Her lips and tongue stole the words and questions from your mouth before you could give them voice.
You are naked before long, stumbling into the bedroom and leaving behind a trail of haphazardly discarded clothing. She pushes you onto the bed with more force than you were ready for - silencing any objections by quickly climbing atop you, straddling your lap as you sit on its edge. Your mouths find each other and your tongues continue their frantic duel. Before long you slip from her lips to kiss a rough trail down her neck and to her chest.
You capture a breast in your mouth, closing your lips around her taut nipple. “Fuck,” she gasps, her hands quickly burying themselves in your hair, nails digging almost painfully into your scalp as you suckle from her tight bud.
A small part of you wants to slow down - perhaps even stop altogether - and tell her how damn worried you were for her, how the last nine hours were the longest nine hours you’d ever had in your life. But she steals your words again, this time with some of her own.
“Hard,” she hisses between gritted teeth, “I want it hard.”
She reaches between you, points your tip at her dripping entrance, and takes you inside her.
The long, hot sigh that escapes your lips finally rips them from her nipple. For the next few minutes you are powerless to do more than breathe heavily between her breasts as she rides you - those toned, full thighs of her working to throw her body up and down your shaft, taking you in and out of her tight, warm little cunt.
“Nayeon, I-” you begin, finally finding the wherewithal after a few minutes to look up at her.
She silences you with a finger to your lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, but hungry.
“Shut up,” she spits. “Just shut up.”
You were not one to argue, not when you were balls deep inside the most beautiful woman you’d ever known. And so you content yourself with watching as Nayeon took her pleasure from your body, using your cock like a toy, impaling herself with it over and over again until she became a mewling, moaning mess atop your lap.
You grasp her thighs, squeeze her bouncing breasts and tease the nipples atop them, slide your hand up her chest and up her throat and to her jaw before sliding your thumb between her lips for her to suck as you cradle the side of her pleasure-filled face - and throughout it all she rides you, pace relentless, merciless, hard.
Soon she is cumming - and she shows no sign of stopping, fucking herself through her orgasm even as her body is wracked by pleasure. She trembles, shakes, and quivers atop you - but it doesn’t stop her, doesn’t come close to fulfilling her immense need. She wants more. She needs more.
Even as her orgasm radiates throughout her body and turns her into a wet, writhing mess, you hold her tight to you as you turn her over, putting her on her back atop the bed while you rise to your feet next to it. You wrap her legs around your waist, pull her hips onto yours, and continue to fuck her - hard, fast, rough.
She sighs and moans and cries and you are content to let her, content to let out some of the frustration and worry and fear you’d held inside you for most of the day on her tight, helpless little body. Her breasts bounce deliciously atop her heaving chest. Her fingers are claws, finding purchase wherever she can - on the bedsheets and your forearms, mostly. Eventually she reaches down and fingers her own clit, even as your cock pumps in and out between the lips of her cunt, just beyond her fingertips. Her eyes spur you on - telling you to keep fucking her, keep using her, all without saying a single word.
Your hands leave her hips, pulling on her legs until her calves are atop your shoulders. You continue to pound into her all along, this new position leaving her cunt open and exposed, rendering her helpless to do anything but take each hard, fast thrust you make into her body. It is almost callous, the way you fuck her, as though she were some whore and not the love of your life. You use her cunt. You make it yours, remind her who it belonged to.
Her moans build, rising in volume and signalling another impending orgasm. You want to join her, and are about to give in, about to fill her-
“My ass,” she gasps. “Fuck my ass.”
She pulls her sweaty, still trembling body off you, denying you the warm slickness of her cunt. Her pussy drips onto the bedsheets as she wastes no time, getting atop the bed on her knees, upper body pressed against the bed. She reaches back with her hands, palming the cheeks of her ass, spreading them apart, showing you what she’d been keeping inside her.
And there it is, red silicone, glistening and slick with lube.
The sight of it takes your breath away. You let an unexpected sigh of pleasure leave your lips as you grasp the toy with your fingers, easing it out of her body slowly. She moans as it leaves her, perhaps in pain or pleasure or both. Soon it’s finally out. Every molecule in her body yearns to replace its absence.
Grasping your cock, slick and wet with her juices, you press the tip against her open, gaping hole - and begin to slide inside her.
You’d had her ass before, but never after she’d had a plug inside her, and it is sublime. Her ass immediately closes and tightens around you, and you think right then and there that you might cum. Your hand clutches her ass and left hip, fingers digging deep into the soft, yielding flesh, relishing the pleasure coursing through your veins but fighting it before it gets too intense, wanting to prolong this moment. She sighs and moans as she adjusts to your size. She trembles at the feeling of her ass being filled.
“Mmmm,” she hisses into the sheets, evidently having lost the ability to form words. She reaches back as far as she can with a free hand, her long fingers clutching your thigh. She pulls you toward her, and you oblige, pressing yourself as deep as you can until you are hilt deep.
“Do it,” she spits from between gritted teeth, “Fuck my ass. Hard.”
And so you begin - fucking Im Nayeon’s ass with hard, long strokes, using her tight, hot hole with the same tempo and speed as you did her cunt just moments earlier. She moans and shrieks and gasps into the sheets, the side of her face pressed against the bed, saliva dripping from a slack mouth. Her fingers are claws, digging into the sheets or your thighs or both, searching for something, anything, to ground herself amidst the constant pounding into the most vulnerable part of her body.
“Fuck, Nayeon,” you say, your brain unable to form much more than a curse and her name. She is so tight, so very hot - and she’d ensured the toy was well lubed before it entered her, so she was slick enough to make every entry and exit so delicious, so utterly sublime; a perfect cocktail of pleasure and pain all mixed into one irresistible sensation.
For the first time in a while Nayeon lifts her head from the bed, sweat pasting dark strands to the side of her face. She opens her mouth to say something-
But you reach forward, grasping her by the back of her neck, and slamming her back down onto the bed. She shrieks - partially in surprise, mostly in pleasure - as you resume pounding her.
“Shut up,” you spit. “Just shut up.”
The thick cotton bedsheets can do little to hide the long, deep moan of pleasure that leaves Nayeon’s lips as you impose yourself on her. She continues, not stopping for a moment, letting a drivel of wordless pleasure leave her mouth with each thrust you make into her body. She reaches a hand down, plays with her wet, slick clit even as you pound relentlessly into her ass - pleasuring her, hurting her - either way, making her yours.
The hand at her neck doesn’t leave her - it merely moves to her upper back, still keeping her pinned to the mattress, making sure she could do nothing more than take you. She lets you. She gives herself to you, lets you do what you want to her, because this - a rough, hard fuck - was what she wanted, what she craved.
It doesn’t take her long to orgasm, with her fingers on her clit and your cock pounding hard into her asshole. She tightens even more around you. She screams her pleasure into the bedsheets.
She clenches around your cock when she cums. It sends you over the edge, and you push yourself as deep as you can into Im Nayeon’s ass before you cum, filling her depths with thick, hot semen. Her moans turn into whimpers and then sobs, and you think for a moment that she might be crying.
You want to stay there, as you often did after you came inside her. You want to relish the moment and the sight of your cock embedded inside her ass and the feeling of her body wrapped around yours. But the accumulated physical and mental exhaustion of the day hit you all at once, and you collapse atop her, your arms only barely keeping you from crashing onto her back as you land on your elbows, still hilt-deep inside her.
You find the strength to bring your mouth to her ear. Filthy sex and dirty fucking aside, she had to know.
“I belong to you,” you say.
“I know,” she answers. Beneath the sweaty, messy hair and heavy breaths, Nayeon smiles.
—
The next morning, while you are still asleep, she wakes up early to make breakfast. She rarely cooked - every food delivery driver within a ten mile radius knew how to get to your apartment by heart - but when she did it was for special occasions. Or, in this case, a form of apology for making you worry so much the day before.
She’s stumbling towards the kitchen - she was understandably more than a little sore in places that made walking difficult - when she catches a glimpse of her old criminology textbooks on the hallway bookshelf.
She was a fairly sentimental person, and despite your efforts she wouldn’t get rid of the old, heavy texts. She insisted that they were a part of what made her who she was, and wanted to keep them as a reminder of how far she’d come in her career; privately, she kept them to remind herself of those hard months when you’d left to join JYP all those years ago, and how much she missed being away from you. Those months were difficult, and she’d turned to her career as a way of coping. Those months were instrumental in putting her on the path to becoming a detective, but they were also part of what drove her to Seoul to find you.
A thought strikes her as her eyes take in titles of the texts. She reaches out and lets her fingertips graze their worn covers, seeing in them a way to ensure her career would never worry you so much again.
---
And so the problems were solved. All it took was a few uncomfortable emails, a few months of occasionally stressful worrying and intense interviews, and two new job offers. Easy peasy.
You’d taken a job at a branch office of JYP that promised travel would be completely optional. Nayeon had quit the PD and become a professor in criminology at a local college. You’d moved out of the small downtown apartment that had been the home you’d shared for the past five years, and into a slightly more comfortable townhouse in the suburbs.
Time passed. Good days and bad days. She was there for all of them, making the good days sweeter and the bad days more bearable. She was home. Safe harbour and north star for each other.
You are both sitting in a cafe on a lazy Sunday morning - you’re reading a book and nursing a coffee while she’s grading some papers on her laptop. You loved many things about your relationship, but one of the things you appreciated the most was how comfortable you both were in silence. The years had given you both a familiarity that had often transcended the need for speaking. Most of the time, you knew what the other was thinking, even before they spoke.
Your presence was enough, and there was no need to fill the space between you with words for the sake of it.
After awhile you look up to her to find that she’d been watching you, apparently for some time.
“I think we’re ready,” she says, a warm, soft smile on her lips.
She says no more, returning her attention to her laptop, but you know what she means.
You smile as you return to your book.
---
Im Nayeon could always surprise you.
You’d had her more times than you could count, but this night was different - it was important, special in a way none of the in-shower quickies or weekend-long marathon sessions were. Just when you’d thought sex and lovemaking could hold no more surprises, you are proven wrong.
“It’s you,” she sighs into your ear, her voice soft, still filled with pleasure, but with an undercurrent of emotion that you’d never heard in her before. One of her arms wraps itself around your back, the other buried into the hair at the back of your neck as you thrust in and out of her body.
“Cum inside me,” she continues, breathless, words spilling from her lips in a long, drawn out hiss. “Fill me up. It has to be you. Breed me, put a baby in my belly. I want it- I want you. It has to be you. It’s only ever been you.”
“Nayeon,” you say into her ear, and when she replies with your own name you think it is the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard in your life.
She is tight, wet, hot - she feels every bit as good as she did when you were teenagers fumbling awkwardly in an old dorm room, or when you were reunited old flames brought together by fate in Seoul, or when you moved in together and decided to build lives together. But it means more now. It means more now than it ever did.
“Give me a baby,” she says, half-moan, half-sigh. “Breed me, make me yours.”
Words you’d heard before, from the same lips, on many another night. But none like tonight, not when she meant them more than she ever did - this wasn’t pillow talk, an act meant to spice up a risqué encounter; no, this was much more. She meant every word, without pretence or facade. She meant it all.
“Nayeon,” you repeat, unable to say much else. The sound of her name on your lips draws a sigh from hers, sends a quiver up her spine that is pure pleasure and love.
“It has to be you,” she whispers into your ear, the most intimate words she has ever spoken. “It was always you - I love you.”
“I love you too,” you say, every molecule of your body shouting the words, even if they left your lips as little more than a light gasp.
You thrust between her spread legs, and she wraps her thighs and arms around you, making the two of you into one.
You fill her. She sighs, moans - and when your cheeks press against each other as you both lie there, breathing heavily - you can feel her cheeks pull her lips into a smile.
---
“It was always going to be you and me, wasn’t it?”
You are caught a little off-guard by her words - truth be told your mind was solely fixated on the humble sign outside your favourite sushi restaurant and the familiar but delicious culinary delights that awaited you. It’s a Friday night, and you were looking forward to a quiet dinner with her following a long, draining week of work.
The choice of dining establishment was a foregone conclusion, and you had nothing on your mind other than settling into a simple but comforting meal with her. Grand statements of destined love weren't exactly on your mind - not this early in the evening, anyway.
But when you turn to her and find a soft, warm smile on her lips, you couldn’t help but agree. She doesn’t even turn to look at you - her gaze, like yours, is locked on the old, dingy, familiar restaurant sign.
“Yes,” you answer, the word leaving your lips quickly, almost on instinct, almost on reflex, as though your body knew the truth - knew what you felt, in your innermost core. “It was always going to be you, Nayeon.”
She doesn’t turn her head to look at you. There is a slight deepening of the smile on her lips, a slightly deeper blush on her cheeks, but that’s it. She doesn’t need to read your face to verify or discern the truth in your expression. She is confident enough - in the years you’ve spent together, in the trials and tribulations borne at each others’ side, to know the truth in your words.
She feels it in the way you clutch her hand, the way you hold her close in your most intimate moments, the way you brush stray hairs away from her forehead when you kiss her good morning before heading out the door to work.
She sees it in the slight swell in her belly, and the family you were building together.
She knows all this. She feels it all, deep inside herself where nothing else exists except you and her and the home you’ve built with shared memories. She knows it is all true, always will be.
When you enter the restaurant you are greeted warmly with a smile and hug by the waiter - he’s become a good friend in the years since your escapades in Tokyo and Seoul. From behind the counter, Jisoo looks up from her prep work to wave and smile widely. She leaves the counter for a moment to greet you both, revealing the full roundness of her belly. She waddles awkwardly over, exchanging hugs, confirming plans for next week’s gender reveal dinner party for their child.
With one hand, Nayeon cradles Jisoo’s full belly. Perhaps unconsciously, her free hand hovers over her own, a warm, thoughtful smile on her lips.
Eventually, Jisoo shuffles adorably back to the counter to finish her vegetable prep, promising to come back later to chat. The waiter shows you to your table, leaving you both two cups of tea.
He doesn’t leave a menu, because he already knows your order.
You tap the chest pocket of your jacket as you take it off and drape it over the back of your seat, making sure the small box and the engagement ring within were still there.
Nayeon cups her tea in both hands before taking a small sip. She finally locks eyes with you, although she doesn’t say anything. She knows she doesn’t have to. She’s content just to smile, content to reach her hand over the table, palm up, wanting nothing more than to feel your hand in hers.
Maybe she knew what was coming. Maybe she caught a glimpse of the box in your nightstand drawer, or noticed an open tab on your browser for a local jewelry store. Maybe she read it in your face at some point today, in the way you moved or the words you chose. She was a former detective and current professor of criminology, after all. She’d made a living out of reading people, and to her, you were an open book.
But it didn’t matter whether she knew it was coming or not, whether she would be surprised at all when, at the end of your meal, you got down on one knee in this restaurant where your relationship began and asked her to spend the rest of her life with you.
Because you both already knew, on some level had always known. It was always going to be you and her. And every trial and tribulation, every painful relationship with long-gone lovers, every day apart - it had all led to tonight.
Nayeon’s hand finds yours and your fingers intertwine.
Your heart warms at her touch.
---
Author’s Note: Good to be back ^^ Excuse any writing rust that was evident in this fic :( I actually had this alternate ending to BT mostly written awhile ago, but I'd been thinking about coming back to writing again and Nayeon's comeback gave me all the inspiration I needed to finally finish it.
Shoutout to @capslocked, whose work played a part in getting me back into writing. A special shoutout to his Tzuyu fic, which is probably one of my favorite smuts of all time - and I might have borrowed the phone sex idea from it. Love ya bud. Mimosa fic next pls k thx.
Stories and posts will be few and far between, but you’re always welcome to leave an ask. Thank you all for the love and support you've shown me over the past year. <3
It was a bad idea, a horrible idea. You knew it as soon as you decided to listen to another one of Minjeong’s 3 AM sleepy thoughts: go to the forbidden library of the academy, read the ancient spell manuals, and try their magics. There was already one word you didn’t like in that sentence: forbidden. Most libraries prohibited access to certain books because of their fragility or rarity, which was understandable. However, in a magic academy where not only the teachers could put protection spells on the manuscripts but also repair the damage with ease, surely there must have been another reason. Obviously, it was going to be an important one.
The second thing Minjeong said that sounded suspicious was her desire to try the spells. Both of you knew how hard ancient magics were and knowing that they came from forbidden books should have been a sufficient warning to keep you from attempting them. It was also well known that Minjeong wasn’t the most talented of witches. You didn’t want to be mean to your friend but her academic performance was difficult to ignore.
You thought that being the magic academy’s top student, Minjeong would have brighter ideas, but no. Although you were strongly against the idea, her excitement and puppy eyes got the better of you and you followed through with her plan.
When you were between the dusty bookshelves and the sounds of the rooms resembled more and more the cries of ghosts and haunted souls, it was already too late to back away.
“Look, don’t they look so cool?” Minjeong exclaimed, pointing at the black leather book, with ashed gold linings and crooked letters. Clearly a cursed book. You could already feel the languish moans of the unfortunate victims of its curses.
“Wanna take a look at it?” she asked. You were surprised by her lack of worry at the obvious danger in front of her.
“No!” you screamed and pushed her before it was too late.
“What’s to worry about?”
“What do you mean? If you were to touch that thing, you’d probably lose your hand, you idiot!”
Minjeong looked at you with an offended frown. “You worry too much…” her tone drifted off and she ran to the next bookshelf.
You followed her everywhere, preventing her from killing herself and yourself. There was a moment that almost got you. Minjeong jumped on the shelves with her full force. It was a good thing to remember that these shelves were centuries old and left unkempt for as long as you could imagine so obviously the wood gave out and Minjeong fell together with the ten books she managed to grab out of greediness.
You managed to catch her and shield her from the falling books with your back. Later, she apologized profusely but you had to go back to the dorm with an uncomfortable back pain.
Minjeong followed you to your room. You thought it was to bid you goodbye or apologize some more but then she took a book out of her coat. The weathered leather-bound book seemed to stare at you with its emerald green cover, warning you about its possessor.
Your friend opened the book and let you see the elegant swirling calligraphy, red and deep. The pages had acquired a creamy yellow color with time and it was hard for you to read it.
“We should try this spell,” Minjeong declared with a serious tone.
“We—what?” you replied.
“I said we should try this spell. It will be good,” she said and cleared her throat, gaining a deeper shade in her voice. “It is said to possess the power to bring one’s deepest desires to life. It delves into the very essence of longing and seeks to materialize the aspirations that reside within the caster’s heart.”
“You managed to translate all that from this squiggly writing?”
Minjeong nodded proudly with a bright smile.
Your eyes took the shape of horror.
“Are you really sure? I mean, really really sure.”
“Mh!” she confirmed. Minjeong carefully laid the book on your desk. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she traced her finger along the faded text. “Imagine, our dreams made real!”
You eyed the ancient script warily. “It sounds like a scam. It really does. Do you really think one spell can make all of your dreams come true? It’s even better than the philosopher stone,” you said. “The forbidden section is forbidden for a reason. What if this backfires?”
Minjeong dismissed all your concerns with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come on! This is our chance! Let’s try it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Uhm… that we would die? Worse, we could be cursed for life and beyond as soulless ghouls.”
“Pfft. You read too many books,” Minjeong brushed it off.
“Minjeong, we’re literally in a magic academy!”
“It will be fine.”
Reluctantly, you sighed, “Fine, let’s just be careful. We have to follow the instructions precisely. By the way, what if they hear us?”
“Don’t worry, everyone has gone on the school trip. The nearest students are in the other building.”
The moonlight filtered through the tall windows and cast a soft glow on the center of the floor. The flickering candles seemed to get agitated as their flames danced more frenetically.
You and Minjeong stood next to each other. She held the wand in her hand with confidence, ready. The air in the room was becoming heavy, there was a palpable energy.
“Are you sure about this, Minjeong?” you asked one last time.
“Absolutely.”
You both closed your eyes in unison. Minjeong’s mind cleared as she focused on channeling her energy into the wand. With a shared breath, they opened their eyes, the moonlight and candlelight casting shadows that seemed to dance with their anticipation. Wands at the ready, they spoke the incantation with a synchronicity that echoed their shared purpose.
"Manifestum Desideria."
As the words hung in the air, a surge of magical energy enveloped the room. You could feel the invisible threads of desire weaving around them, responding to the call of the ancient spell. The air crackled with enchantment, and a faint mist began to materialize, swirling around Minjeong.
The air vibrated and anticipation built up more and more until… it just stopped.
Minjeong opened her eyes and looked at you.
“Was that it?” she asked.
“Yep,” another voice answered.
Minjeong jumped and screamed her lungs out. You got started as well from the unknown voice and her scream. As you turned around, you could see clearly who it came from. It was a girl and she looked exactly the same as Minjeong.
“Hey, who are you?” Minjeong asked with a trembling voice, pointing at the other girl.
“What do you mean who is this? I’m you,” she said laughing. Her voice too was extremely similar to Minjeong’s but it was slightly sultrier, more playful, and sexier.
“Uhh, Minjeong? No, Winter?” you suggested.
“Yes, I’m Winter if that’s what you like to call me.”
“You can’t be me,” Minjeong said, more confused than anything. Your friend turned around to search for some kind of reassurance from you but you had no idea either.
“Yes, I am,” she repeated. There was a look of pleasure on her face seeing Minjeong confused. “And I know everything about you. Every little secret you try to hide.”
“W-w-wait, you’re just playing with me.”
“Yeah, like how you stole Karina’s makeup.”
“How do you—”
“And how do you like your friend, right over here,” Winter said, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer. Your heart suddenly started beating faster. You could smell her perfume, a strong sensual smell. You had hugged Minjeong before and all of Winter’s sizes were the same as Minjeong’s. She was a clone. If what she was saying was true, you might just roll with it.
“What?” you asked.
“What?!” Minjeong asked too.
“What? Are you going to tell me you don’t?” Winter said, getting closer and rubbing your chest. “Then this won’t bother you, right?” she said smugly, tracing her finger along your neck, then under your jaw and near your lips, right as she got her face closer. You felt goosebumps. You knew this wasn’t Minjeong, but she was so real and so identical to the real one that you wanted to enjoy the moment a little.
“Hey! Get off him!” she screamed, pushing her away. Too bad.
“Why? You like him?”
“N-no!”
“Mh? Stop lying to yourself, sweetheart…” Winter got closer to your face. “What about you, handsome? Do you like her? You got a Minjeong all to yourself, you know? You can do anything you want with me.”
“Hey! What are you saying?!” the real Minjeong exclaimed.
“I see you staring at my lips, do you wanna taste them?” she asked and leaned closer, slowly enough to wait for a reaction, “Oh, you aren’t backing away.” Truth was, you did want to kiss her.
“You’ve done it now!” Minjeong pulled you away and hugged you hard. She felt territorial, almost possessive. “I’m supposed to be his first!”
“Oh, dear…” Winter laughed.
“Wait.” Minjeong turned to you as you stared at her with eyes wide open. You looked at each other for a moment, both slowly starting to blush.“Oh my god… you’ve ruined everything!” Minjeong screamed in frustration, holding her head in her hands.
“I don’t think so,” Winter turned to you, “You like her don’t you?”
You opened your mouth and stopped for a second. You felt a gentle tug at the back of my mind. “Well, uhm, yes…” you said. It’s a only after a few moments that you realize what you said. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, and a hint of nervousness creeps in.
“Ain’t that lucky?” Winter said and clapped happily while the two of you looked at the floor, not baring the sight of the other one. Your feelings had been confessed and so were hers but you did not know what to do now. Your wingwoman did though.
“You guys should kiss now.”
“What?! Listen, uhm, me, you helped us a lot but that’s too much,” Minjeong said angrily, pointing her finger at Winter who on the other side looked at her with a surprised yet content smile.
“Why not? You want it.”
“Yeah, but we are going too fast.”
“Listen, I’m not leaving until you’ve done everything you have to,” Winter said, folding her arms and leaning her hips on one leg, showing her attitude.
“Right, are you going to stay here forever or is there a way to let you free?” you asked. “Also, why did you appear?”
“Did you guys not read the warning?”
“What warning,” you and Minjeong said in unison. You rushed to the book and immediately found a blood red paragraph on the other side of the page.
[Exercise great caution when wielding the Desiderium Manifestum spell, for the line between reality and desire is delicate and easily blurred. The spell has been known to personify desires in unexpected ways, and the manifestations may take on a life of their own, beyond the caster's control. Use this enchantment responsibly, and be prepared to face the consequences of desires brought into the tangible realm. It is advised to thoroughly understand the potential repercussions before attempting to cast this spell.]
Minjeong’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait… the warning in the ancient spellbook? It said something about completing the ritual fully to manifest our desires.”
Winter nodded, a smug smile on her face. “Exactly. You manifested me because of your desires, right? To send me away, you have to acknowledge and act on those desires. I am just here to help you.”
You looked at your friend with disappointment as she laughed awkardely.
After reading the paragraph you quickly understood that ‘making your desire come alive’ was really meant literally. You blamed Minjeong for not realizing it—she was the one that wanted to use the spell in the first place—and scolded her for not reading everything thoroughly before trying it. She apologized and said that it was her excitement that got her so worked up and that normally she would’ve seen it.
“So, we really have to…” Minjeong’s voice trailed off as she glanced at you, her cheeks flushed.
You felt your heart race as you met her eyes. The air was thick with unspoken emotions. “I guess we have to kiss,” you said softly.
Minjeong bit her lip nervously. “This is so embarrassing.”
Winter sighed dramatically. “The longer you hesitate, the longer I stay here. And believe me, I can be very persistent.”
You took a deep breath and stepped closer to Minjeong, gently taking her hand. “We can do this. It’s just a kiss, right?”
Minjeong nodded, her eyes locked onto yours. “Just a kiss.”
Then came the moment you had been waiting for: you had to kiss Minjeong and Minjeong had to kiss you. Your two figures illuminated by the warm light of the candles inside your room stood still as both of you looked at each other, uncertain. Minjeong bit her lip, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater. “Whenever you want,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. A brief silence hung between you, filled by the soft noise of the wind.
You took a deep breath. You were the man, you had to do it. You took a step closer, your eyes met Minjeong’s for a brief moment and shy smile played on your lips. She felt her heartbeat quicken and a nervous giggle escaped her lips. Their eyes locked and you both inhaled.
You held your breath and gently cupped Minjeong’s cheek. Minjeong’s breath caught in her throat as she met your gaze, eyes wide open.
Your lips met in a soft and hesitant kiss. It was delicate, shy, and quick. It was just a moment but you clearly felt her soft skin press against yours and it was a shock. You’d want more of it, it was the final gift of your long wait, and you wanted to savor it more.
As you pulled away, your eyes met again and a shy smile appeared on your lips while Minjeong had an ecstatic expression, her mouth still open.
“Oh my god, good job you guys,” Winter said, clapping behind you. You almost forgot about her. “That’s your man now, you have to kiss him better, you know?”
“Calm down, that was our first.”
“Yeah, I know but don’t worry, I’ll show you. I really can’t hold myself back with him…”
“Wha—” Minjeong couldn’t finish her sentence that Winter jumped on you.
She kissed you ferociously—deeply, passionately. If she was the embodiment of Minjeong’s desire, she must have waited for years. You could feel the pent-up frustration and all the regret in that one kiss. Winter moans into you, pulling your face roughly into hers as her tongue invades your mouth, taking away the innocence that has sealed your lips until now. She moves quickly and hungrily, taking your breath away.
Your hands are naturally drawn to her hips. You’ve hugged Minjeong before and you knew how her body felt against her—Winter was exactly the same. Your fingers dig into her ass as you exchange the kiss. Winter’s hands on your neck felt possessive and territorial. She pulled you in even closer than you already were, pretty much grinding against you.
It took Minjeong’s whole effort to detach you from Winter’s grasp.
Minjeong immediately glued herself to you.
“What the hell was that?!” She screamed with territorial fierce.
“I just showed you how to kiss properly?” the other said nonchalantly.
“Wasn’t that too much?” Minjeong stuttered.
“You left me waiting for too long. If you confessed sooner…”
You could see Minjeong pout under you. You placed your hands on her waist and pulled her close to you, making her annoyed expression fade away. You take her lips and meet her in a kiss more intense than her previous one. Her tongue timidly pushes forward, searching for your mouth.
Her words resonate inside your head: “Touch me.” Your hands move around, alternating between her ass and her back, greedily taking all of her into your arms. Minjeong’s hands instead move to your chest, to search for support for what’s stirring inside her.
After a couple of moments, Minjeong’s lip turn into a shy smile and she backs away a couple of centimeters.
“You’re-you’re poking me,” she says softly.
“I’m sorry! I- it was you—no, the other Winter, have you seen how she’s dressed?” you quickly try to excuse yourself, thinking it might have been too embarrassing if you were to admit that she was the cause. But after all the blood rushed to your groin, your brain was left empty and the poor judgement would cost you.
“You pervert! You just confessed to me and you’re getting hard from another girl?!” Minjeong quickly yells at you.
“But she’s you! I’m getting a boner because of you!” you yell back, afraid that you might hurt her.
“You can’t scream this kind of stuff, you fool…” her tone becomes soft and she hides away.
“Oh, it looks like you two are starting to finally be honest with each other,” Winter announced, patting you two, “well, what are you going to do about this?” she said while rubbing your member. You jolt back, goosebumps running through your skin. The feeling alone was enough to have you throbbing. “Because if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
“You can’t!”
“I know I can and I know you want it too. Remember? I know everything about you,” she says. “Do I have to tell him about all the restless nights you had rubbing yourself thinking about him? Screaming his name in your bedroom, night after night after night…”
“Stop! It’s not true!” Minjeong said. She was so embarrassed that she was almost in tears. You couldn’t tell who was redder in that moment: Minjeong, whose secret was revealed to the last person she wanted to tell it to, or you, whose surprise left you frozen.
“So? You already know how her mouth tastes, want to know how it feels too?” Winter said, turning you. You couldn’t answer her question: your legs gave out and you fell into the bed. It was almost as if someone injected you with morphine. Your head started spinning, you couldn’t stand up but you couldn’t stand still either.
“What have you done to him?” Minjeong asked worriedly.
“Just my powers, he’s really really horny right now and his body is starting to lag. I have a really good aphrodisiac in my spit,” she confessed.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Sorry but I don’t get to leave until he fills both of us with cum.”
“W-what?!” Minjeong was left startled at her clone’s calm demeanor. Their words were a confused blur, from what you knew, you were living a dream, a very fun one.
“The purpose of the spell is to make your deepest desire come true.”
“You must be joking right?”
“Have I said a single lie, yet?”
“No…”
“Look, I’m doing you a favor here, you have to stop being so against me,” she whispered in Minejong’s ear. “Your deepest desire is finally going to come true. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
Winter takes your pants off and your cock springs out. At the sight of your erect penis, Winter lets out a satisfied sigh, being able to finally take a good look at it. Her excitement was vivid, her wide eyes scanned the whole length of your member, from your balls to the tip. Awkwardness, on the other hand, was devouring Minjeong alive. She had her hands plastered on her face, trying to cover her eyes, even though she could see perfectly through them, flickering her fingers to reveal her aroused pupils.
The seducer smirked and looked at Minjeong with a bright grin. ‘You like it?’ is what she’d hear if her eyes spoke and ‘yes’ is what you’d hear coming from Minjeong’s mouth despite her bit red face.
“I know what you want, baby,” she said, brushing the cuter girl’s warm cheek.
“I-I-I don’t want anything,” the poor girl stammered, suddenly feeling the need to look away at the confused boner between your legs.
“Right, sure,” she giggled. Then she reverted her eyes to you. “You know, dear, I’d really really want you to fuck my mouth and swallow you right up… but,” she looked at her identical friend. “I think she needs it more, don’t you?”
Minjeong was now looking down, rubbing her thighs together. She couldn’t matter a single word
“Scoot up close and give him a little taste,” Winter said, pointing between your legs.
Minjeong little steps on her knees, gulping down when she stood really close. “Are you sure?” she asked again, with a shaky voice.
“Lick him. Make sure to look up into his eyes, too.”
Minjeong took a few breaths to prepare herself. She hesitantly brought her head down, shaking throughout, and placed her closed lips on the bare tip of your cock. You felt shivers running down from your member throughout your thighs.
Anticipation was killing both of you. “Is she gonna do it?” you thought. “Am I gonna do it?” she thought. She looked at you, looking for some kind of encouragement, reassurance perhaps. You looked just as lost as her, just as excited. You placed a hand on the side of her neck, picked up a few strands of hair, and brushed her cheek with your thumb.
She smiles, her lips still planted.
Minjeong was ready. She inhaled the scent that was coming from your skin, closed her eyes, and took a long sensual lick, from the base of your cock, right to the tip. She straightened up and looked at you with her puppy eyes.
“D-did you like it?” she asked.
You quickly nodded. You were twitching terribly at the cold humid air.
“Take it in your hands and stroke him while you lick him,” Winter said.
“Okay… I’ll give it a try.”
Minjeong gave you a couple more licks, bringing her head down, and up. Her mouth was salivating and it wetted your cock completely. Then she placed her slender fingers, awkwardly holding you with excessive care. ‘You can hold it tighter,’ you whispered. Minjeong nodded.
She jerked you off, your cock slick in her palm. Uncertain about her rhythm, she alternated between fast and slow. Her fingers were thin and delicate but they were enough to make you desperate.
The licking on the head of your cock wasn’t stopping. Minjeong continued, slowly easing to a more regular rhythm as you began to moan.
Winter let her original do all the work, while like a snake, she wrapped herself around your shoulders, whispering in your ear: “She looks really hot licking you, doesn’t she?” she giggled. “I know you’ve waited so long. You’ve been patient. I can’t wait to suck your cock with her…”
“Use your lips too dear,” Winter said. “No teeth.”
Minjeong placed her lips on the tip of your penis and started lightly sucking it. She looked more confident than before. Her hand continued jerking you off, her cheeks sunk in to give you small suckles, while her lips brushed her saliva away.
You started to moan more deeply. You couldn’t help it. You placed your hand behind her neck this time. You weren’t sure what this meant for you—were you too stimulated and needed some support, were you praising her, were you caressing her—but for Minjeong it meant, “go deeper”.
So she did.
She lowered her head further until her lips touched her fingers and her tongue fully coated your frenulum. Your hips jolted for a moment. It seemed to please Minjeong a lot, who started to suck with more passion.
“You look really cute sucking his cock…” Winter commented again with her lowly seductive voice. “What about you, do you like her?”
“Yeah,” you said in a single breath.
“Minjeong, I want you to take him deeper.”
Minjeong raised her head, detaching herself from you. A big strand of thickened saliva pooled down from her lips to to her hands. “I can’t take them that deep…” she said in a tiny voice as she wiped the liquid from her face. Her eyebrows curved down in a worried frown.
“Don’t be silly, you’re me,” she said. “You can do it. Besides you dreamt about it every night. Taking his cock right down your throat to the deepes–”
“Stop! I’ll do it. Just,” Minjeong blurted out, “shut up!”
“Alright, alright. Just put him in your mouth. You have to relax your throat.”
Minjeong gulped and opened her mouth as wide as possible. Her warm breath made you stand taller. She wrapped her small hand around the base of your penis, to guide to her. You could feel it slide through her tongue, her lips grazing your skin, enveloping you completely.
She stopped midway. You could feel the bump of her tongue with your tip. That warmth and wetness were already making your heart race, your breath was short and quick.
“Thaaaat’s right. Good,” she said. “But you can go deeper. Mmmmh. Show him how much you love him, how much you love his cock.” The last sentence sounded way too lewd. The growl from Winter shocked you. It was almost demonic, of pure lust and desire.
Minjeong took you deeper and seemed to struggle at first but then your penis touched the back of your throat. You weren’t breathing anymore and neither was she. She squinted her eyes, trying to keep you there, nice and snuck, until she couldn’t anymore and had to come up to catch her breath.
The moment she took you out, you gasped.
“I-I’m sorry, was that too much?” Minjeong mumbled.
“Don’t worry. He liked it!”
“Is that true? Did you, um, like it?”
“It… it was amazing, Minjeong. I’ve never felt this before.”
“Oh, that’s a relief! Okay,” Minjeong smiled, puffing her cheeks. She looked adorable, cute. Just like before the whole deal started. Just that this time, she was covered in spit and her eyes were slightly pink.
“Let me show you,” Winter said, taking you away from Minjeong. She put her hand on your cock and started stroking you up and down, while she was explaining. She picked up all of her previous spit that pooled on your crotch, using at lube. Somehow, she knew the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm.
“I know just how to take my his cock. Watch me. You move your tongue like this,” she pulled her tongue out, “and sucking, like gasping just a little will allow you to get his cock down without gagging as much, well unless you want to. You can slowly take him in. Like this…”
For the demonstration, Winter tried to take it in as slowly as possible, that took a lot of holding back, you could tell. She blinked a few times, her eyes crossed on your penis as it slowly slipped inside of her throat. Her throat was the same as Minjeong but her technique was completely different, this time it was smoother, tighter, and deeper.
She held you there, her lips planted right on your crotch, balls deep. You continued to gasp, feeling the twitches of her flesh caressing you and her throat trying to swallow you down. It was about ten seconds later that she decided to take you out.
You were left disappointed but now was Minjeong’s turn.
“Like that. Now you try,” Winter said casually, whipping her lips clean.
“Okay. I’m going to try my best,” she agreed and then looked at you. “Can you keep your hand on me?”
You pat Minjeong’s head again, like a little puppy. She smiles cutely and closes her eyes as you rub her head. She giggles and smiles brightly. “Okay, now,” she said and focused. You kept your hand on top of her head, trying to guide her in.
She did just as Winter said, sticked her tongue out, gasped and let you in. She struggled again but this time she actually took you all the way in. She kissed your crotch and puffed up her cheeks. You could feel her moan, the vibration caressed your whole skin, you must have hit a good spot.
Then she took you out.
“I did it!” Minjeong exclaimed.
“You did so well, baby,” you said and continued patting her.
“Hehe, I like it when you compliment me,” Minjeong mumbled. She wasn’t usually like that. Well, she did become very touchy sometimes and demand your hugs when she drank too much, but she was never this… submissive. You glanced at Winter with a suspicious gaze. She just giggled and raised her shoulders.
“She’s just cock-drunk.”
Minjeong took you again, deeper than before. And when she couldn’t hold it anymore, she took you out, caught her breath, and went again. Again and again. And then she made a discovery: she didn’t need to take your cock out of her mouth to breath, just half was good. She maintained a constant suction, leaving you no rest at all.
“You’re so good Minjeong, your throat feels like heaven.”
After a minute of slow bobbing she made a second discovery: having you graze her throat actually felt good. So then she started bobbing her head up and down, just small centimeters, enough to feel you go in and out of her throat. She continued her moderate bobbing, gasping, and moaning, while her thick spit went everywhere. She was affectionate and sucked with passion, she really wanted to make you feel good, and she loved you.
“God, you’re making me lose my mind,” you moaned as well. Minjeong loved your moans. That and your hands on her head made sure she knew how good you were feeling and she just wanted to suck you more.
Winter giggled and brushed your ear. “Isn’t she doing so good?” she whispered. “Wow, all the way down. I’m a little jealous…”
“You know,” she started. “I think you should fuck her face. I think she might like it…”
It was like her words took control of your body. You kinda wanted it but you also wanted to be gentle for her but you stood up. Minjeong stopped and breathed heavily. She looked at you with confusion as she didn’t hear her counterpart.
“Dear, why are you standing? Is everything okay?” she asked. You didn’t answer as your knees were getting weak but you didn’t want to leave her hanging either. You put both of your hands on her head and patted her, playing with her hair, caressing her gently. “Ah… I love it when you run your fingers through my hair…”
“Minjeong, do you want to feel him take...a bit more control?”
Minejong looked at you with her puppy eyes, submissive and innocent. “I-I’d be okay with that. I trust you.” She held the hand on her head. “Mmm, I trust your touch. I know you’ll be gentle. I’m ready. I promise. Guide your cock into my throat, please.” You wonder how such a pure girl could pronounce suck lewd and naughty words with the same innocence as when she asked for cuddles.
You stand up and she follows you on her knees, holding your thighs. You kinda of felt bad for her, she had to be the only one to stay on the floor, but she looked more than happy. You pushed back into her, as gently as possible. Minjeong wiggled her head to take you in with a slurp and started lightly sucking on you, with care and love. With both of your hands on her head, you started pushing in and out of her mouth.
At first, you only used your hands at a slow pace. You wanted to make sure she got used to the feeling. You didn’t want to be too rough. But then she got more enthusiastic, you could tell she was buckling her head herself, telling you to go faster.
So you did.
You start moving your hips as well, properly fucking her pretty mouth. It was a moderate pace, you were still afraid of hurting her. She felt amazing, out of this world. If her mouth was already pleasurable before, now with the rhythm, it was ecstatic.
You almost got carried away when you heard the wet sloppy sounds of her spit pooling out of her lips. You had to stop yourself. You pulled out and saw Minjeong coughing. You quickly brushed her face with worry.
“Are you okay?”, you asked.
She looked at you with resolution. “Please, don’t stop.”
Who were you to refuse? You were back in no time and fucked her face even faster than before. Now she started moaning, the vibration of her voice adding to the pleasure. Your legs start shaking and you moan together with her. Moans, slop, and plops, the sound of spit and her mouth were all you could hear.
“Oh wow. It’s so hot watching you fuck her face like that,” Winter coos. “I feel left out… Do you want my mouth and throat, too?”
She put her hands on you, it’s a seductive hypnotizing touch that took your mind out of the moment. You stare at her, blinking vividly, and you slowly stop fucking Minjeong’s face. Winter must have been a succubus, there was no way she was just a “manifestation of Winter’s desire”. She controlled your every muscle, every thought. You reluctantly let go of Minjeong’s head altogether and turn to Winter.
“Why did you stop?” your friend asked needly.
“Because it’s my turn, he’s gonna fuck my throat now.”
Winter’s knees are already on the floor. She crawls towards your crotch. Her eyes are already more riled up than yours. She sticks her tongue out and you’re buried deep inside her throat. She doesn’t gag at all, instead, she starts giggling and sucking you violently. Her hands on your buttocks help her pull your cock inside of her.
You give her slow hard fucks. You try to break her throat. The wet mess that is her mouth is way too pleasurable for you to hold back. There comes a point where you stop caring and start fucking her throat as rough as you can.
Fast and rough, hard and deep. Every thrust brings you closer to the edge. Your eyes roll back into your head, slowly but surely, and your mind fogs up. You can only feel pleasure, pleasure, and hunger for more.
You went on for so long, you were even surprised at yourself you could last that long. It must’ve been Winter’s doing.
You were two thrusts away from cumming when you stopped. Actually, you didn’t stop, it was Winter again who pushed you away. She slurped all her spit and cleared her throat.
“You know I loved it but I didn’t want to keep you all for myself. I want Minjeong to taste your cum too,” she declared and pushed you back down into the bed. Winter continues to work on your cock with small licks and suckles. She gestures for Minjeong to come closer and join her. She does.
Now both of the Minjeongs are licking and sucking you, with such eagerness and hunger, that you were wondering who the original was. But you didn’t have enough brain left to think about it.
Thinking about it, Minjeong was being a lot more affectionate, mixing her licks with little kisses, she was sloppy and inexperienced. Winter was being a lot rougher, her licks were fast, and she sucked you hard enough that she could have left hickeys on you. Both of their faces were smushed together trying to claim more of you from the other.
But you couldn’t last long. You came right after.
You came harder than you ever did.
Strings of thick cum came raining down on their faces. They both stopped in surprise and admired the cum shooting out of your helpless cock. It was a piece of art. Both of them were painted white. Your penis continued to twitch and contract even when there was no more cum left—the pleasure was too much.
Winter went right back with gentle long strokes of tongue to clean up after their mess. She swallowed your cock once again, to suck up all the cum that was left.
Minjeong instead slowly picked up the cum from her face and stared at it in the palm of her hand. It took her a moment to decide that she wanted to taste it. She licked it. Picked more and ate it. She continued to brush all the cum from her face and hair and licked it right up, like a cat trying to clean her paws.
Heavily breathing and with your heart still pounding, Winter flashed you a very bright smile. “So what do you want to do now?” she asked you.
“Huh?” you responded. Your mind was still cloudy.
“You can do anything you want. What’s your next move?”
You breathed a couple of times and swallowed. “I want… I’d like to return the favor, Minjeong.”
“Eh?!” Minjeong jolted up. “W-what are you saying?”
“I want to eat you out, Minjeong,” you said with more resolution.
“You’re being too direct.”
“Come on, have you seen what we have just done? There is really no point in hiding now.”
“You’re right…”
“Oh my, you’re so selfless, baby,” Winter joined the conversation. “It’s okay, I can help with this too. After all, this was one of Minjeong’s desires as well. I have the full knowledge.”
“Please, will you ever stop saying this embarrassing stuff?” Minjeong pleaded.
“No, hehe” she giggled.
Minjeong replaced your spot on the bed, but this time she sat right in the middle and you crawled before her. She spreads her legs. The action makes her blush terribly but you’re just as embarrassed. You position in between her thighs and awkwardly smile at her. “I’m– I’m kind of nervous.”
“Well are you gonna leave me here with my legs open, you jerk?” Minjeong teased you.
To break the ice again, you softly kiss Minjeong’s lips, trailing down to her neck. While you’re sucking her skin, your fingers make her towards her heat. Softly brushing her legs, her thighs, and then her panties. Your fingers start playing with the drenched cotton. It had already absorbed all her juices, one squeeze and it would’ve overflown right onto the bed.
“You’re so wet, Minjeong.”
“Please don’t say that,” she said breathily.
You moved down, bringing her panties away. Your breath hits her very core. You stand low, admiring her pussy, completely wet and excited. “You smell sweet,” you said before placing a kiss between her lower lips. She let out a soft moan of anticipation.
You then started licking her pussy and clit with your full tongue. Minjeong moaned louder and her hands immediately strapped to your head for support. Your tongue started moving around and licking her wildly.
The feeling of your warm breathing hitting her core and your tongue making swirls around her clit was a feeling she had never felt before. “That’s so good, baby,” she moaned. You inserted a finger into her hole and your tongue continued to lick onto her bead.
Second finger in, Minjeong let out another lewd moan. “You taste so good, Minjeong.”
“Wait—you have to slow down! Hhhngg, I’ll cum!”
And that’s what you wanted. The continuous licks and motion of your fingers send Minjeong to her high. Her pussy continued to let juices flow out of her hole, which you licked right up with excitement. She could feel the knots forming inside her stomach and her back beginning to arch more and more with each pump, and each lick.
The poor girl couldn’t hold it in anymore. She was twitching everywhere, the pressure inside of her was begging to overflow and her toes and fingers all curled up in an attempt to resist.
Eventually, she let out the most lewd noise that you had heard yet. “Fuck!” as she came. Her pussy let out thick transparent cum, with such a lewd noise as well. You slurped it all up. It was as sweet as all her other juices. With her hands still on your head Minjeong is breathing heavily and looking at you with surprise as you’re still cleaning her up.
Jaw still open, there is a vague smile on her face.
But she wasn’t satisfied and neither was Winter, especially her. She was here for a reason, to make sure Minjeong’s darkest deepest desire came true. Unfortunately, fortunately for you, it wasn’t simply kissing you, which you have already surpassed by now, and it wasn’t pleasuring you either. It was, to put it simply, to have you cum inside her, but you didn’t know that.
“It’s time for the main course, dear,” Winter said, amused at your little work with her twin.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, we aren’t done,” she said, giving you a confused glance. She wondered why she even had to explain it, of course, you weren’t finished. “You have to…” with a softer voice, “put it in.”
“Uhhhh…”
Winter smacked her lips. “I can understand why you’d be nervous, but don’t tell you me you don’t want to. After all, you haven’t been this hard throughout this whole… ‘interaction’, and I only mentioned the possibility of fucking her.” She giggled and brushed your shoulder. “Look at you, so excited.”
You turned around to search for Minjeong’s opinion but you could only find her cloudy, drugged eyes. She was mindlessly staring at you, full of lust and desire, her lower lips were slightly twitching at your sight. Goosebumps all over, she didn’t need any more time to recover from her previous orgasm, that was her warmup.
She stretches her arm to grab the back of your neck and pulls you into her lips for a soft kiss. “Please, don’t you want it as well? We have already come so far… I don’t think I’ll have that courage again,” she told you in a weak airy voice.
Minjeong was ready. She was ready to take you.
“Alright,” you decided.
Minjeong’s pussy was already dripping wet, warm, and stretched, waiting for you to come in. The demon on your shoulder was caressing your ear the whole time, whispering words of lewd and temptation, encouraging you to act.
You grab your penis and inch yourself closer to her already parted legs. You position yourself and after Minjeong’s nod of approval, you start lowering yourself into her, steadily, slowly. You stare at your cock disappearing into her folds. The girl whines helplessly and you groan when your shaft finally enters completely, breaking her lock and burying itself completely inside her.
She moans loudly and instinctively hugs you, searching for support.
You never forget your first time, they say. The first thrust is always the hardest, it makes you grit your teeth. The first time you feel something so tight and warm. Never in your life have you felt such wetness, your lower body stiffens and you already want to cum.
After breaking her lock, every sort of profanity seeps out of Minjeong’s lips. “Fuck! So… full…!”
It takes time for Minjeong to get used to the burn from the stretch. She could feel your every throb and pulse inside of her, so snug and tight. She quickly gets used to this new feeling and finally finds herself begging you to move.
You’re being careful, not to push too deep and not hurt her more than necessary. But Minjeong liked it. She wanted to feel you against her cervix, your tip brushing against it, and she pulled you deeper and deeper with every thrust, with her ankles clenched around your hips.
Your mind had already lost it. Reduced to grunts and curses, you only knew to push and pull into her pussy, worshipping the beautiful body of your greatest love with the deep motion of your hips. “You’re amazing, Minjeong. You’re—ugh—incredibly tight,” you said. You wanted to let her know. Your movements still don’t stop and you find it a great feat to let out any words at all.
Minjeong responds with a couple more of her moans. Something the lines of ‘Why did you take so long to finally fuck me like this?’ and you were sure to make up for the lost time.
You switch the pace in a desperate attempt to make yourself last longer. Your hips live her and slam against her again, hard, with glistening slick strings stretching between your and her skin. She’s wet, incredibly wet. Everything is too slow for Minjeong, too slow for how desperate she was but you were doing great. You hit exactly the right spot, that exact spot to drive her crazy. All her past frustrations come back with vengeance, building up in her belly, reaching a crazy strong pressure.
Minjeong’s screams are almost silent, breaking against her vocal cords. Her body finally succumbs to the insurmountable pressure and pleasure of your penis, and she finally cums. She grips you tightly and roughly pulls you into her body, finding comfort in your warmth and weight.
“It’s okay, let it go…” you murmur against her wet skin.
You gently pull out of her, letting yourself rest against her lips and two fingers on her pulsing clit to help her ride her orgasm out. However, you get the opposite reaction. It might have been the heightened sensitivity from her previous orgasm, or how wound up she had been for this long, but your fingers push her over the limit. Another screech and she’s convulsing again, the pressure building up again, and all of a sudden she’s gushing, spraying your arms, sheet, and wetting your whole body.
Her hips buckled and twitched while streams of squirt poured out of her twitching cunt. Her moans were loud, desperate, and helpless.
“Oh my god, look at her go,” Winter said with a great smug plastered on her face. “Good job,” she said with an even more seductive tone, “look at your work. Look at how totally drenched the sheets are.”
As she talked, her hand came to wrap your cock. She started to stroke you, slowly, and carefully. It was a strange feeling. You were ready to burst, your penis was rock hard, and you were on the edge. But no matter how much she touched you, you just couldn’t cum, it was a constant edging.
“Mh? Wondering why you can’t cum?” she giggled. “Let’s just say it’s a little magic of mine…”
She turned around to Minjeong, “And to think you were trying to deny it just moments ago and you came so hard. Fucking slut you are.”
“Shut up,” Minjeong replied weakly. She was still trying to recover from her violent orgasm.
Winter laughed with amusement and let you lie down. “Do you think you’ll make me cum as well? But let me tell you something first: I’m the one in charge.”
Her fingers suddenly clamp tightly on your cock, straighened out, she aligned you and sunk you inside of her. It was a totally different feeling. Way sloppier, way wetter, way tighter. You couldn’t believe they were the same person. It was like her pussy was trying to milk everything out of you, clamping down with a choking grip.
Winter wastes no time and starts jumping on you, with hard pumps. She knocks the air out of your lungs. It was an aggressively fast pace, paired with her tightness, you were already going to cum. But you couldn’t cum. Winter had you on the palm of your hands.
“So helpless, I bet you want to cum, don’t you?” she laughed.
“Please slow down,” you begged.
Soon enough, her hips slow down. She remains glued to you, twisting and moving her hips around, your cock swishing inside her pussy. You could feel every single fold of her pussy, she was inviting you to explore the inside of her body.
It didn’t last long though. There you go, Winter was pounding you inside of her again, with wild hips. You wondered how could she move that fast, even you couldn’t do it. Your hand was just a tiny bit faster than her, which was extremely impressive.
Your mind was broken. You had difficulty moaning—the pleasure was spreading all the other parts of your body, your fingers were jittery, you curled your toes, and started salivating.
“Fuck, finally, that’s good…” she exhaled. Her own pleasure was her goal but it was inevitable that you were going to be broken as well.
She stopped once again. With slow forceful strokes, she got up and smashed herself down. It was intense, you had to admit.
Letting you cum was an act of compassion. She pulled you out and let you spurt your semen everywhere. You covered her tummy and yourself. You collapsed immediately from the exhaustion. Winter lowered herself and started cleaning you, licking your hypersensitive head, and swiping up all the strings and droplets of cum.
“You did a great job, handsome,” she congratulated you with your cock in her mouth. “Didn’t think you’d last that long without passing out.”
“You’re… you’re crazy,” you said with a faint voice.
“Sure, I’m not even human,” she giggles. “Pull yourself together, handsome. We’re not done yet.”
The Deja Vu makes you stand up. “What do you mean?” Her response is a wet kiss. She swivels her tongue inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue and inside of your mouth. A small peck and you’re hard again.
“Consider that a little help,” she said.
You feel two hands hugging you from behind. It’s Minjeong. She sounds tired but determined. “I haven’t made you cum yet,” she whispered.
“It’s fine, I don’t—”
“It wasn’t an offer.”
When you look at her, your blood runs cold. Pure lust. Pure desire. Pure libido. Stripped of her innocence, there was nothing different from Minjeong and Winter anymore. Strangely enough, her eyes alone were enough to get you riled up. Seeing her desiring you so much got you in the mood as well.
Again she laid on the bed before you, but there was something different this time. Her eyes were a lot more inviting, needy, and she made it clear as with her two hands, she stretched out her pussy, inviting you in. You watch her pink folds slowly open up, completely drenched and tight. You couldn’t resist such a naughty sight.
You slide yourself inside and it’s heaven all over again. Holding onto your arms, you fucked her hard and deep. With her cunt utterly drenched from the non-stop cumming, every thrust was a loud sloppy mess. Her grip was demanding. Her pussy gripped you tight, with her lips glued onto you, trying their best not to let you slip out.
“Don’t worry about me,” Minjeong said. “You can be as rough as you want…”
You were already exhausted but her words could only fire you up even more. You had lost all control of yourself, you pounded her with desperation.
Her face was contorted in frowns and grimaces of overstimulated pleasure. You got lost in her eyes. They desired you, they wanted you.
“Please, please, I need you to cum inside of me.”
Minjeong made herself clear. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Her legs wrapped around your waist and locked you against her pelvis. She squeezed you, forcing you to go even deeper into her wet pussy. You continued pounding her as much as possible, trying to enjoy your last moments.
“I’m really gonna cum now,” you warned her.
“Do it,” was all she said.
You couldn’t hold it in. With Minjeong’s nails deep into your skin, her legs tightly locked around your hips, and her lips quivering in your ear with that needy lustful voice of hers: “Please, I want it inside. I want you to cum inside me… please,” you couldn’t do anything else but fulfill her desire.
You grunted as you cum so deep inside her womb. Minjeong had complete control over you, leaving you with no choice but to release more of your semen into her. Her tight walls eagerly accepted every intense release, filling her with an abundance of creamy fluid. The relentless contractions and pulsations continued as she milked you completely dry, not allowing a single drop to escape. Even after that, you couldn't resist the urge to keep thrusting, pushing your messy and heated load deeper and deeper inside her.
As soon as you pulled away from her warm embrace, Minjeong loosened the tight hold her arms had around you, and sat upright on the bed with her legs spread wide open. You cam so deep inside of her that it took a great effort of pushing and squeezing for your cum to finally pour out of her. With her wet pussy lips on display, you both observed as your cum trickled out of her—a steady stream of white liquid that left a mark on her thighs.
"Wow, you totally filled me up," she inquired, breathing heavily, as she slid a finger into her wet pussy and provocatively licked it clean. “Was that too lewd?” she giggled.
“Yeah, totally,” you responded and laughed with her.
“Don’t you think you’re forgetting someone?” Winter cooed, grabbing your chin. “I think you still got some more juice inside those balls. They don’t look empty to me.”
“Is that fine, Minjeong?” you asked. Unsure. At this point, with your seed inside of her, she probably had some kind of right over you.
“Oh, what a gentleman you are,” Winter said. “But just so you know, I am not leaving until you fill me up to the brim.”
“If that’s what she wants,” Minjeong sighed. “I don’t want to deal with her anymore.”
“Come on, what are you waiting? Are you gonna cum inside of me or what?”
You don’t want to make her wait any longer. You force Winter’s face down to the mattress. Ass up, hands on her lips, she’s full spread, ready to take you in. One single push and you slip inside. There is no need to warm up again, no need to pick up the pace. Her pussy was already molten and shaped to accommodate your cock perfectly.
You quicken your pace, Minjeong rests with her back fully arched to help you reach her deepest spots. Your cockhead taps against her cervix, arousing you more than it should.
Your hands kneed her asscheeks with greed. It only turns her on, your lips grip you with fierce. Her hole tightens and twitches as you mistreat her pussy.
Winter laughs and moans with joy. “Oh my god, yes!” She squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock. “Come on, give me your cum!”
“Fucking cumslut. You’ll get all of it.”
Your hands grab her waist tightly, pulling her hips right into your crotch. Minjeong plants kisses on your neck and lips, to encourage you. The warmth of her breath itches your ears, causing pleasure to the upper part of your body as well. She surrenders completely to you, allowing you to have your way with her. Or maybe it was the other way around and you were her slave, fucking her just how she wanted.
You couldn’t let Minjeong standing there. You turn around and give your attention to her breasts. They are just the right size to fondle, and you do so generously upon discovering how sensitive they are. You roughly sick on her nipples, pulling on them with your lips and licking them to make her squirm and whimper. She hugs your head, pleading you to continue.
“Oh God, it only took you one girl to get this good?” Winter mumbles.
“Fuck!" she swears right after. Just like Minjeong, of course, like her clone, she is a messy squirter.
Winter’s spurts make a total mess of your room. Her climax is intense and drenches the whole floor. Spurts of squirt shoot out from her hole onto the tiled surface and your body, causing her to grip your shaft so tightly that it completely overwhelmed you and triggers your orgasm as well. Although your moans are embarrassingly loud, they are drowned out by Winter's ecstatic cries.
Her cries are shrill compared to the mature and seductive tone she had blessed you with until now. You don't pullout, you can’t. To do so would be to defy her orders.
You pour all the rest of your cum inside of her with the assistance of the spasm of her vagina, which milked you till the last drop. It takes you a couple of minutes to recover from the mind-numbing orgasm when you finally pull out to witness your cum rushing out of her pussy.
Winter laughs with satisfaction, laying lifelessly on the bed, her hair disheveled, her body ruined. You lean into Minjeong, who was holding you on for support.
“That was your third load? It was so much,” Winter said. “God, I’m sure would have gotten pregnant if I was human…”
“Wait, what about me?”
The color drained from Minjeong’s face, her smile disappeared as the weight of the situation sank in. The fun and excitement of the moment evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. Your hands hands, which had been vigorously grabbing Minjeong’s waist, now clenched nervously. Her heart pounded as they exchanged worried glances.
“Right,” you said. “I- I just came inside of you.”
“What’s gonna happen?” she asked you.
“You might— no, you will definetly get pregnant.”
“Don’t worry guys,” Winter said. “I put a little spell on you, you won’t get pregnant.”
“Really?!” you almost screamed.
“Yeah,” she said.
The tension in the air broke like a popped balloon. You and Minjeong’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and you let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Your hearts, which had been pounding moments ago, began to slow to a normal rhythm. Your clenched hands opened, and a tentative smile returned to your face. Minjeong’s eyes, wide with worry, softened with immense relief.
You glanced at each other, grins spreading as the weight of their fears lifted.
"I really thought I messed up," you said, your voice filled with a mixture of amusement and relief.
Minjeong’s face flushed a deep crimson as she started speaking. “Uhm… and how long does this spell last?”
“Oh my god,” Winter laughed. “You want him to cum inside you again?”
“No! No– I mean…”
“To celebrate you two I’ll make it last a week, just for you two.”
“Oh, thanks…” Minjeong smiled shily.
“Well, my job here is done,” Winter said, standing up on her wobbly legs. You could see the cum still dripping down her legs, with droplets of squirt painting the floor.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” you said.
“Yeah, thank you,” Minjeong repeated after you.
“I had fun guys. Farewell,” she said one last time and disappeared with sparkles falling to the floor.
Both of you remained still for a few seconds reflecting on what just happened.
Minjeong played with her fingers absentmindedly, her thumb circling around her ring finger. You watched her, your eyes tracing the curve of her hand, the gentle movements of her fingers. The moonlight shined on her skin, her completely naked body. With your lust completely drained, she looked a lot smaller than before.
“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was gentle and intimate. “What are we now?”
You looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were trembling. “What are we?” you echoed. It wasn’t a nice conversation with the both of you smelling like sex and sweat, but it was necessary.
She nodded, waiting for your response. “Yes. You and me. What are we?”
“At this point… you already know how I feel about you,” you said. “And I guess I also know how you feel.” You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I want us to be together.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his again. There was a flicker of something there, a spark of understanding. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked, the words tentative but hopeful.
"Yes," you said, the certainty in your voice surprising even you. It was the first time you were this honest. "Boyfriend and girlfriend."
Minjeong smiled. “Good. I felt the same.”
“Glad we got that out of the way,” you said. “But let’s get cleaned up now.”
Minjeong giggled. “You’re right. Wanna go in together?”
“You… are you not tired?”
“You know, unfortunately, we didn’t get a clone of you to tell me exactly the whole truth about you, so I am not totally convinced… Take my doubt away. Show me how much you really love me.”
Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.
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It didn't happen through a cliché.
Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.
What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?
Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…
"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.
"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.
"Hanni! What are you—"
"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"
You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."
She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"
"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"
"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.
It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.
As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.
It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.
Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.
The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.
She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.
"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.
"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.
"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."
"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."
"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."
Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.
"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."
You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."
"Asshole." She kicked at you.
She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.
"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.
"Your what?" You asked.
Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."
She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.
But you did it.
Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.
"Is that what I think it is?"
She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."
Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.
"Because."
"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."
Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"
"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.
"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.
You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.
"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"
"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."
She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.
"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.
"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her.
She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.
"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."
You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"
Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.
That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.
It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.
First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.
Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"
And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"
She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.
"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.
A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"
You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.
The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.
You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.
It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.
But this? This is uncharted territory.
The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.
You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.
The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.
Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.
"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.
Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.
There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.
"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.
"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.
"Nothing," she mocks.
Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.
Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.
That should have been that.
You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.
Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."
You glanced down.
Hanni.
Naked.
The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.
"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.
"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.
"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.
"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."
You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.
There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…
"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.
You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.
She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.
"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.
"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"
Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.
Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."
Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.
"Hanni. What're you—
You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"
That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.
Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.
So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.
She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...
"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.
You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.
"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."
It's hard to describe it all.
Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.
You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.
"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"
Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.
The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.
One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.
"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.
A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet.
The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.
You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.
Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.
She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.
"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.
"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Why?" you asked.
"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."
"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."
There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.
You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.
Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.
The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.
"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"
The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.
Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.
Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."
You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.
She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.
That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.
"You okay?" you asked her.
"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.
It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.
You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.
"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon.
You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.
That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.
"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.
She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."
The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.
She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.
Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.
"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.
You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.
That was the first night, but definitely not the last.
The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.
"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"
You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."
"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"
You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.
Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"
So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.
You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.
Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.
Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.
This is different.
Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.
You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.
When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.
"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.
Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.
It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.
You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.
Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"
The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.
Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."
The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.
"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."
She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.
You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.
"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.
She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.
From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.
It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.
Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.
She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.
Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.
It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.
No warning.
Nothing.
Mirror's Secrets @msafterhours - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
