Ji Won is her name and look through her IG.. She is such a beautiful woman
Ivory
(Jiwon X Male Reader) Wordcount: 1051 words
You lean back in the leather chair of your penthouse living room. Jiwon looked incredible in an ivory off-shoulder dress at your brand’s promotional event. The fabric clung to every curve of her body. The asymmetrical hem was riding high on her thighs, while the pearl necklace around her slender neck made her look like expensive property. Your property.
You texted 20 minutes ago.
“Come to my place. Chauffeur is already waiting.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The private elevator now opens. Jiwon steps out, still in the tight white dress, long dark hair cascading over one shoulder. The moment the doors close behind her, she lowers her gaze respectfully.
“My lord, did you like the dress?”
You rise slowly, circling her like an art piece. At 48, you’ve earned the right to own beautiful things, and Jiwon is your favorite acquisition. Younger, stunning, and completely devoted to pleasing the man who funds her luxurious lifestyle.
“I like what’s inside it more.”
You grab her chin, tilting her face up.
“On your knees.”
She sinks gracefully to the marble floor without hesitation, the short dress riding up. Her manicured fingers make quick work of your belt and zipper, freeing your hard cock. Jiwon looks up at you with those wide, pretty eyes as she takes your dick into her warm mouth, sucking you deep.
“Good girl.”
You thread your fingers through her hair.
You fuck her face slowly, savoring the wet heat and the way her throat tightens around you. Spit drips down her chin onto the pristine white dress. She moans around your shaft. The vibrations travel straight through you.
After a few minutes you pull her up, spin her around, and bend her over the back of the couch. You yank the dress up over her ass. No panties, just as you prefer. You push inside her in one thrust, burying yourself in her tight, wet pussy.
Jiwon gasps.
“My lord… so big-”
You grip her hips and start fucking her hard with deep strokes that make her ass ripple. The sound of skin slapping fills the penthouse. You reach around and rub her clit, feeling her tremble.
“This is what you’re for. A pretty little toy for me to use whenever I want.”
“Yes, my lord.”
She moans, pushing back against you.
“Use me… I’m yours.”
You pound her relentlessly until her legs shake. She cums first, crying out as her walls clamp down around you. You don’t stop, chasing your own release. With a deep groan you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her, flooding her pussy with thick ropes of cum. You pull out, watching your seed drip down her thighs. But you’re far from finished.
You carry her to the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed. You strip the dress off her completely this time, leaving only the pearl necklace and her heels. Jiwon lies on her back, legs spread, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes.
You climb on top of her, sliding back into her cum-filled pussy in. You pin her wrists above her head and fuck her slow and deep, savoring every thrust. She wraps her legs around you, trapping you inside of her tight cunt.
“My lord… my lord…”
She says it like a prayer every time you bottom out.
After several minutes you flip her onto all fours. You take her from behind again, harder this time, one hand fisting her hair while the other slaps her ass. Jiwon pushes back eagerly, moaning shamelessly. You reach under her and rub her clit until she cums again, soaking your cock.
You pull out and carry her toward your penthouse window, pressing her beautiful body against the glass, lifting one leg high as you re-enter her. The new angle makes her whimper. You fuck her like that, deep and possessive, knowing someone might steal a glance at her naked form flat against the cold surface, until you cum for a second time, pumping more of your load deep into her womb. The sounds she makes as you flood her pussy with cum has you kiss and playfully bite her neck and shoulder. Physically you’re getting a little tired, but your lust can be quenched without you having to move.
“Why don’t you do the work for a change?”
You pull Jiwon onto the bed again and on top of you. She straddles your hips, sinking down onto your cock with her pussy dripping with cum. She rides you obediently, rolling her hips in a perfect rhythm. Her breasts bounce as she moves up and down. You grip her waist, guiding her faster, making her earn her third load of your cum.
“Look at you.”
You grip her waist tighter, making her flinch, before one of your hands move around to grope her ass.
“A princess in public, but my personal cumslut in private.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Her voice shakes. The mix of humiliation und lust making her ride you harder.
“Only for you.”
You sit up, wrapping your arms around her as she continues bouncing on your cock. You kiss her selfishly, then bury your face in her neck again as you thrust up into her. She orgasms again, shuddering in your arms, moaning and whimpering, her warm breath against your shoulder, her nails raking down your back. The feeling of her pulsing cunt around you pushes you over the edge for a third time. You groan into her neck, holding her down as you empty the last of your load inside her.
Jiwon collapses against your chest, breathing hard after her ride. Her body glistens with sweat. Cum leaks from her well-used pussy onto your sheets.
You stroke her hair gently, your lust fueled possessiveness momentarily sated.
“You’ll stay the night.”
It’s not a question.
“Of course, my lord.”
She whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone.
“Thank you for using me.”
You smile, satisfied. In the morning you’ll send her back to her place, not thinking about her again, until your urge to use her body for yourself reemerges, but tonight she belongs completely to you. Your beautiful, obedient slut, dripping with your cum, waiting for another round and hoping you’ll treat her to a nice dinner and buy her the pair of heels she’s been eyeing for weeks.
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Decided not to let you guys guess for this, because they only way you could've guessed properly would've been by me telling you she's on IG and then you guys would've known through previous asks/answers.
The silence of my room at six in the morning had a dead weight to it, a freezing atmosphere that seemed to suck away any trace of warmth before I could even feel it. I stood in front of the vanity mirror, staring at my reflection with a blank, almost mechanical gaze. At this hour, before the world knew me as Professor Eunbi, I was nothing more than a body trapped in constant tension, a woman fighting a silent war against her own anatomy.
Naked, the pale light of dawn highlighted the almost unreal whiteness of my skin and the overwhelming volume of my tits. They were heavy, massive, two spheres of flesh that dominated my silhouette and always seemed designed to draw every single eye, even though I spent every second of my life trying to kill that effect. I stared at them, watching how gravity pulled at them, creating a deep, generous curve that reminded me of the hunger deep in my belly—a void that no amount of professional respect could ever fill.
Then began the ritual of suffocation.
I reached for the white lace bra, a garment designed to compress, to contain, to erase. Getting into it was always a physical and psychological struggle. First, I fought with the straps, feeling them dig into my shoulders as I tried to force the flesh of my tits into the cups. I let out a muffled groan, almost a grunt of frustration, when I felt the fabric stretch to its breaking point.
Sshhh... The sound of the lace stretching to the limit echoed in my ears. I had to use my hands to push and mold the flesh, sinking my fingers into the softness of my tits to force them to stay flat, crushed against my chest. I felt my white skin turn pink from the excessive pressure, and the air began to fail me as the bra squeezed my ribs like a noose. The result was an unbearable feeling of oppression; my tits were there, trapped in a fabric cage, fighting for breath, pulsing against the restriction with every beat of my heart.
I put on the white silk blouse, hearing the soft brush of the fabric sliding over skin that was already damp from a cold sweat breaking out at the nape of my neck. As I buttoned it up, I felt that familiar and torturous tug on the middle buttons. Each button was a critical point of tension; I knew that if I leaned too far or breathed too deeply, the fabric would give way. But that oppression was necessary. Formal clothes weren't just attire; they were my armor.
I approached the mirror to do my makeup, tracing the perfect line of my red lips and ensuring my skin looked flawless, without a single trace of weakness. As I applied the powder, a shiver ran down my spine. I looked into my own eyes and saw the woman disappear to make way for the mask: that icy, distant, and severe gaze that projected an unreachable superiority.
But beneath that white silk, beneath that perfect makeup and that expression of ice, my body was screaming. I felt an electric tingle in my clit, a dull throb reminding me that I was alive and starving. The physical suffocation of my clothes translated into emotional suffocation; I felt like a caged animal inside a marble statue. I knew that the moment I crossed the threshold of the institute, everyone would see the perfect teacher, the untouchable woman who despised any sign of vulgarity.
None of them could imagine that this coldness was the result of unbearable pressure, that my mask of ice was the only thing keeping me from crumbling under the weight of my own desires. I adjusted my pencil skirt, feeling it hug my hips with military rigidity, and let out a shaky sigh that made the buttons of my blouse groan once more. I was ready to start another day of lies, carrying the weight of my tits and the loneliness of my life, not knowing yet that the path to depravity had already been traced inside me.
When I closed the door to my house at the end of the day, the sound of the lock clicking was like the closing of a tomb. My home wasn't a refuge; it was a cold and sterile museum, a space filled with expensive furniture, marble floors that echoed my footsteps, and a silence so thick it buzzed in my ears. It was a house designed to impress guests who never arrived and to maintain the appearance of a perfect life, while I slowly consumed myself inside.
My husband was part of that expensive, lifeless furniture. A man much older than me, whose presence in the house was as sporadic as his interest in my body. We had married for convenience; he wanted the trophy beauty of a young and distinguished woman to complete his image of success, and I... I had sought stability, status, and that economic security that would allow me to walk with my head high. But the price of that security was a loneliness that ate through my guts.
He was almost never there. When he was, he moved through the halls like a ghost, wrapped in his gray suits and phone calls about business and stocks. To him, I was just another piece in his collection; he looked at me with the same indifference he used for a painting hanging on the wall. There was never any passion, never that animal urgency I felt boiling under my skin every time I looked in the mirror. Our interactions were limited to polite greetings and silent dinners where the only sound was the clink of cutlery against fine porcelain.
There were nights when the frustration became physical, an unbearable pressure that started in my tits and traveled down to my clit, leaving me in a state of constant irritability. I would lie in the matrimonial bed—a massive expanse of cold silk sheets—and feel the void beside me like a slap in the face. I would roll over slowly, feeling my huge tits flatten against the mattress, heavy and hot, while I imagined strong, rough hands grabbing them violently, squeezing them until I couldn't breathe.
Sometimes, I stayed staring at the ceiling in the darkness, listening to the graveyard silence of the house, and felt a dull rage grow inside me. It was a cruel irony: I had a body that screamed to be desired, a massive chest that attracted the gaze of every man I crossed in the institute, but I came home to be invisible. I felt like a ripe fruit rotting on the branch because no one dared to pluck it.
There were moments when the sexual hunger was so strong it made me shake. I would get out of bed and walk through the house naked, feeling the cold marble under my feet and the heavy sway of my tits against my stomach. I looked at myself in the hallway mirrors, watching how my white skin glowed under the dim light of the lamps, and wondered if anyone would ever touch me with the vulgarity I craved. I didn't want romance; I didn't want sweet words. I wanted to be treated like an object; I wanted to feel someone claim me with animal hunger, ripping my clothes off and making me moan until I was exhausted.
That lack became a silent obsession. My marriage was a golden cage where I was the most pampered prisoner, but also the hungriest. Every day I spent being the "exemplary wife" and the "respectable teacher," the void between my legs grew deeper. The tension accumulated in my muscles, in my breath, in the way I bit my lips while teaching.
I felt trapped in a constant lie. On the outside, I projected an image of self-sufficiency and glacial coldness, but on the inside, I was screaming. I imagined breaking the silence of that house with screams of pleasure, filling the empty rooms with the sound of skin slapping against skin. But the man who slept beside me—when he was there—was incapable of waking the beast I kept locked beneath my silk blouses.
That accompanied loneliness was what finally broke me. It led me to seek refuge in places where no one knew me, where I wasn't anyone's wife or anyone's teacher. I needed an escape valve for all that accumulated lust, a place where I could stop being marble and start being flesh. I didn't know how it would happen, but I knew I could no longer endure the weight of the silence nor the oppression of my own repressed desires.
It was two in the morning and the house felt colder than ever. I lay in the immense matrimonial bed, my body wrapped in a black silk robe that felt slippery against my skin but failed to remove the feeling of emptiness. Beside me, the space was vacant; my husband was probably in some business hotel or some late-night meeting, and I, as always, was left alone with my thoughts and a dull restlessness gnawing at my nerves.
Insomnia had become my habitual companion. To combat the loneliness and the graveyard silence enveloping the rooms, I turned on my phone. The blue light of the screen blinded me for a moment, casting long shadows against the bedroom walls. I browsed aimlessly, jumping through irrelevant news and empty profiles, looking for anything to distract me from the oppression of my own life. I entered Twitter, scrolling through the feed with mechanical apathy, until a capricious algorithm suggested a profile that had nothing to do with my usual interests.
At first, it was just an image. A blurry photo, probably taken in a mirror, where a woman posed from behind. She wore no clothes; only high red heels that made her ass lift in a provocative and tight curve. But what stopped my heart wasn't the nudity itself, but the rawness of the image. It wasn't a professional or edited photo meant to look elegant; it was vulgar, direct, almost aggressive in its honesty.
I felt a pinch of morbid curiosity and, without thinking, clicked on the profile.
What I found there was a dizzying descent into a world I had only visited in my darkest, most forbidden fantasies. The woman didn't show her face, but she exposed every corner of her body with an animal confidence that left me zoned out. There were entire threads of photos where she showed herself playing with her own nipples, short videos where she bounced her tits in front of the camera while reading dirty comments, and photos where she spread her legs completely, exposing her wetness to the world without a shred of shame.
I froze, phone pressed against my chest, feeling my breathing turn erratic. I had never seen anything like this so openly. In my world, sexuality was something that should be discrete, elegant, and above all, controlled. But here, in this digital corner, vulgarity was the primary language. I read the comments under the photos: unknown men using raw words, calling her a "slut," asking her to masturbate for them, praising the shape of her ass and the size of her tits with a rawness that made me blush.
And then the unexpected happened. Instead of feeling disgust or rejection, I felt an electric spark run down my spine and land directly on my clit.
A damp, stinging heat began to concentrate between my legs. I felt hypnotized by the idea that someone could expose themselves like that, that someone had the courage to turn their body into a pure, animal object of desire for strangers. While observing a photo where the girl squeezed her tits with her hands, distorting the white flesh, I felt my own breasts start to pulse under the silk robe. I brought a hand to my chest, unconsciously squeezing the curve of my tit, and let out a muffled moan that echoed in the silence of the room.
"My God... what am I doing?" I whispered, but I didn't look away.
I felt as if I were looking through a forbidden keyhole. The excitement was born from the morbidity, from the transgression. I imagined for a moment how it would be if I were in that position: to stop being Professor Eunbi, the trophy wife, the pedestal of ice, and become simply flesh. I imagined the feeling of reading those vulgar comments directed at me, the idea that thousands of men were staring at my huge tits and my ass without knowing who I really was.
The idea triggered an adrenaline rush so strong it made me shake. For the first time in years, I didn't feel the void of marriage or the suffocation of my routine; I felt a voracious hunger, an animal need to be seen, to be desired in the dirtiest way possible. I slid down in the bed, feeling the silk of the robe stick to my sweaty thighs. With the phone still on and the image of that exposed woman before me, I brought my hand down, seeking contact with my own damp skin.
I realized I no longer wanted to be just a spectator. The accidental discovery of that account had opened a floodgate in my mind that could no longer be closed. Curiosity had transformed into a dangerous and tangible desire. As I touched myself, imagining thousands of invisible eyes watching me through the screen, I knew my perfect life had just shattered. The ice had cracked, and beneath it, a current of depravity began to flow, promising the only freedom I had ever known: the freedom to be vulgar.
I stayed there, lying in the darkness of my bed, phone illuminating my face and breath ragged. My hand remained anchored between my legs, but my mind was elsewhere, processing the psychological shock I had just suffered. I wondered, with brutal honesty, why this vulgarity had provoked such a violent, visceral reaction. Why did seeing a stranger expose her ass and tits to thousands of strangers make me feel like the air became thick and my clit throbbed with an almost painful urgency?
Then I understood it. And the revelation was like a blow to the stomach.
It wasn't just sexual desire; it was a hunger for freedom. For years, I had built a fortress of ice around myself. I had become the embodiment of perfection: the impeccable teacher, the distinguished wife, the woman who never made a mistake and followed every social rule with military discipline. I had spent so much time being the pedestal where others projected their ideas of respect and decorum that I had forgotten what it meant to be human—or more accurately, what it meant to be an animal.
The idea of becoming exactly what I despised in public—a vulgar woman, an exhibitionist, a digital slut—felt, for the first time in my life, like the only path toward redemption. I imagined freeing myself from that armor of silk and perfect makeup. I imagined breaking the silence of my empty marriage not with words, but with dirty moans while thousands of invisible eyes devoured me through a screen. The mere idea of betraying my own image, knowing that while I corrected exams with coldness in the classroom, there existed on some remote server a proof of my depravity, gave me an adrenaline rush that left me trembling.
I wanted to feel that gaze. I wanted them to desire me not for my intellect or status, but for the mass of my tits and the curve of my ass. I wanted to be an object; I wanted to be consumed; I wanted the world to see me without filters, without rules, and without the suffocating mask of a "good teacher."
Driven by an urgency I couldn't contain, I got out of bed. The silk robe slid off my shoulders, falling to the floor with a dull whisper. I walked naked toward the vanity mirror, feeling the cold night air hit my white skin and prickle the hairs on my arms. I stared at myself. There I was: Eunbi, the woman of ice. But as I observed myself, I began to see myself through the eyes of those men on Twitter. I saw the massive volume of my tits swaying with every breath, the powerful curve of my hips, and the moisture glistening between my legs.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a caged animal. Fear was there, a cold sting in my stomach, but it was precisely that fear that fueled my excitement. I took the phone with trembling hands and opened the camera.
I positioned myself in front of the mirror, adjusting the angle with obsessive care. I didn't want to show my face; the idea of keeping my identity hidden added a layer of morbidity that made me gasp. I framed myself from the chin down, letting the dim light of the room highlight the shadows and contours of my body.
With a slow movement, I took my own tits with both hands, squeezing them toward the center to create a deep, glistening valley. I felt the softness of my own flesh, the heat of my skin, and the tension of my erect nipples rubbing against the palms of my hands. The contrast between the woman I was in the classroom and the woman who was now standing here, holding her own breasts for an obscene photo, provoked a spasm of pleasure that made me arch my back.
Click.
The sound of the shutter resonated in the room like a gunshot. I stared at the image on the screen: my huge tits, exposed and vulnerable, captured in a moment of pure transgression. A wave of animal euphoria surged through my entire body, from my toes to the nape of my neck. I had crossed the line. I was no longer just a spectator; I had become a participant in the game.
I sat on the cold floor, leaning my back against the wood, while I looked at the photo over and over again. I knew this was the start of something dangerous, something that could destroy my life if anyone ever found out. But as I felt the constant pulsing between my legs and the echo of the click in my ears, I knew there was no turning back. The mask of ice had definitively cracked, and I was anxious to see how much more of it could break before it consumed me completely.
I kept staring at the phone screen, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I read a comment that repeated over and over in the thread of my last photo. "I want to see those tits moving," one said; another was cruder: "Bet they weigh a ton, make them bounce for us, slut."
The word "slut" resonated in my head like a whip-crack. In the classroom, that word would be grounds for expulsion or a nuclear scandal; but here, in the dimness of my room, while I felt the brush of my silk robe against my erect nipples, that word gave me an electric shock that left me breathless. I felt small, vulgar, and for the first time in years, terribly alive.
I stood up in front of the vanity mirror, feeling my heart hammer against my ribs with an erratic rhythm. I untied the knot of my robe and let the garment fall to the floor, leaving me completely naked before my own reflection. The dim light highlighted the whiteness of my skin and the massive volume of my breasts, which hung heavily, waiting to be released. I felt vulnerable, but that vulnerability was the gasoline fueling my excitement.
I took the phone with one hand and placed it at an angle that captured only my torso and thighs. With the other hand, I touched my chest, feeling the softness of the flesh and the hardness of my nipples, which were already tense like piano wires. I imagined the thousands of men on the other side of the screen, holding their breath, waiting for me to do what they asked.
Then, I did it.
I began to bounce gently on my heels, a short, rhythmic movement that caused my tits to jump violently up and down. The impact was immediate. I felt the real weight of my own body; the inertia of my breasts was overwhelming, swaying with an animal force that made me gasp. Plok... plok... I could hear the dull sound of flesh hitting my own chest with every bounce.
I looked at myself in the mirror and went completely zoned out. Seeing my huge tits oscillate like that, without control, without bras compressing them, was an image of pure depravity. I felt like a beast, a massive object of pleasure that had nothing to do with Professor Eunbi. As I increased the intensity of the jumps, the sway became more chaotic and violent. My breasts bounced with raw energy, pulling at the skin of my shoulders and making my nipples dance frantically in the air.
"God..." I let out a muffled moan that echoed through the walls of the room.
The physical sensation was intoxicating. The weight of my tits swaying created a tension in my back and chest that translated, almost instantly, into an electric sting between my legs. I felt my clit pulsing with violent urgency, flooding my imaginary underwear with thick, hot moisture. Every time my breasts dropped and hit my torso, I felt a bolt of pleasure run down my spine.
I stopped abruptly, left breathless, my chest heaving violently. My tits continued to oscillate slightly from the inertia, and I stared at the screen, watching the comments explode in real-time: "Holy shit, look how they bounce!", "Bet they feel heavy as hell," "do it harder, slut, make them bounce until you're tired."
Reading those words while feeling the echo of the sway in my body provoked a spasm of pleasure that made me arch my back. I felt humiliated and adored at the same time. The idea that those men were watching my tits jump, imagining the weight and heat of that flesh, left me in a state of sexual hyper-awareness. My breathing was now a shallow gasp, and my skin was glistening with a cold sweat starting to bead at my neck.
I stood there, gaze fixed on my own breasts, feeling the hunger grow. The bouncing had only been the beginning; it had awakened a beast that no longer settled for jumping. I wanted more. I wanted to feel the touch, I wanted to fulfill every dirty request, and I wanted to see how far my own depravity could go before it broke me completely.
The phone screen was now a cauldron of lust. Notifications kept arriving, a constant flow of dirty words that hit my mind like lashes. The bouncing video had been the spark, but now the users wanted something more; they were no longer satisfied with natural movement, they wanted to see deformation, they wanted to see how that massive flesh felt under pressure.
"Use your hands," one comment said, standing out above the rest. "I want to see your fingers sink into those tits, I want to see how much space they take up in your palms. Squeeze them until they overflow, slut."
Reading the word "squeeze" triggered an immediate reaction in my body. I felt a violent spasm in my belly and an electric sting that went straight down to my clit, leaving me breathless for a second. I stared at my own breasts, those two monuments of white flesh that were currently rising and falling with the speed of my ragged breath. The idea of following that order, of becoming a toy for thousands of strangers, provoked a wave of heat that blurred my vision.
I approached the mirror, pressing my chest almost against the cold glass. The thermal contrast made my nipples harden instantly, poking the air like two small, dark nails. I took the phone with my left hand and positioned it for an extreme close-up; I wanted every pore of my skin, every tiny blue vein and every drop of sweat to be visible to those on the other side.
Then, I closed the fingers of my right hand over my left tit.
It wasn't a gentle caress. Following the chat's order, I sank my fingers with raw force into the soft mass of my breast. I felt the flesh shift and deform under the pressure, creating deep grooves that left the skin red where my nails dug in slightly. The volume was so massive that my hand couldn't wrap around it completely; the tit overflowed through the sides of my fingers, creating a grotesque and fascinating curve that left me zoned out.
"Oh God..." I let out a husky moan, a guttural sound I didn't recognize as my own.
I saw myself in the mirror and felt a surge of animal euphoria. Seeing how my own hand crushed that massive volume, forcing the flesh to displace upward and sideways, made me feel incredibly vulgar. It was the same hand I used to hold chalk in front of my students, the same hand that corrected exams with glacial severity, but now it was there, buried in my own skin, distorting my body for the pleasure of strangers. The psychological contrast was the spark that lit an uncontrollable fire between my legs; I felt the moisture begin to soak the area, a hot and thick flow that made me feel heavy.
I increased the pressure. I began to knead my breast with slow, strong movements, squeezing and releasing, making the flesh bounce against my own palm. Squelch... plok... The sound of my damp skin slapping against itself echoed in the silence of the room, a wet and obscene noise that sent a violent shiver down my entire spine. I imagined it wasn't my fingers squeezing, but the hands of one of those men from the chat, someone grabbing me violently and forcing me to watch how I was being deformed.
I leaned further toward the mirror, letting my other tit hang heavily, while I continued manipulating the first with desperate urgency. My nipples were now so tense they hurt, and every time I squeezed the flesh, I felt the pressure translate directly to my pelvic area, triggering rhythmic spasms in my clit. I was sweating; a drop slid down my forehead and fell right into the valley of my breasts, glistening under the light before sliding downward.
I looked at the screen and saw that the chat had entered a state of collective hysteria. "That's it! Harder!", "look how her fingers overflow," "bet they're hot and soft." Reading those words while feeling my own flesh deform under my fingers made me arch my back, letting out a shallow gasp. I felt small, exposed, and completely dominated by the desire of those strangers.
I stopped for a second, fingers still buried in my chest, feeling the pulse of my own heart beating against my palms. I was at the limit; the physical tension was already unbearable, and the need to touch myself further began to cloud my judgment. But I knew I couldn't skip steps. I wanted to feel every inch of this humiliation, I wanted to fulfill every dirty request before allowing myself a climax.
The euphoria of deformation still vibrated in my fingers, but the chat's hunger was a bottomless pit. While I recovered my breath, panting in front of the mirror, the notifications began to shift direction. They were no longer satisfied with my tits; now they wanted to explore the forbidden territory, the zone I had kept under lock and key even in the most intimate moments of my empty marriage.
"What about the rest?" a comment said with a rawness that made me shudder. "We want to see that ass. Open your legs, slut. We want to see how wet you are while you look at us."
Reading the word "open" caused a short circuit in my mind. I felt a sting of panic mixed with an excitement so violent it made my knees buckle for an instant. Showing my tits was an act of exhibitionism, but opening myself to the camera was an act of total surrender. It was giving up the last fortress of my dignity. But it was precisely that feeling of absolute vulnerability that pushed me forward. I wanted to feel that freefall; I wanted to know what happened when a respectable teacher became raw meat for public consumption.
I let the phone drop onto the surface of the vanity, leaning it against a perfume bottle so the angle captured the lower part of my body. I turned around, leaving my back to the mirror and facing the camera.
I leaned forward, resting my palms on the cold marble of the furniture. The movement was abrupt and caused my huge tits to hang heavily, pulling at my skin and swaying with a real, almost tangible weight, while they remained suspended in the air. I felt gravity dragging them down, a feeling of heaviness that made me feel even more animal. But my attention was no longer on my breasts; it was on the tension building in my thighs and the curve of my ass.
With a slow, deliberate movement, I began to separate my legs. The brush of my own thighs, damp with sweat and excitement, produced a soft sound, a fleshy slide that echoed in the silence of the room. Sshhh...
I brought my hands back. My fingers, still hot from squeezing my chest, found the firm, rounded skin of my cheeks. With a muffled moan, I grabbed each cheek firmly and began to pull them apart violently, opening myself up.
"Oh God..." I whispered, and my voice came out as a broken wail.
The visual impact on the screen was devastating. By opening myself, I exposed the most intimate and secret part of my body under the raw light of the ring lamp. I saw the contrast between the whiteness of my tight cheeks and the deep pink and wetness of my vulva, which was already glistening from natural lubrication. I felt completely naked—not just of clothes, but of all social protection. I was there, open, exposed, offering my hole to thousands of invisible eyes.
I stayed like that, in a humiliating and provocative position, feeling the cold air hit my most sensitive area. The sensation was overwhelming; I felt as if each of the spectators were stabbing their gaze into my wetness, penetrating me with their sight. The pulse in my clit became frenetic, a constant hammering that made my legs shake.
Then, I saw the chat explode. Words were no longer just comments; they were orders. "Open wider!", "bet she's dripping," "I want to see how that hole glistens," "look at this open slut."
Reading the word "dripping" while I felt the hot, thick flow sliding down my vaginal lips provoked a violent spasm. I felt like a ripe fruit that had finally burst. I imagined it wasn't a camera in front of me, but a real man forcing me to stay like that, open and vulnerable, while he insulted me and claimed me.
I began to move my hips slightly, rubbing the surface of the marble with my wet zone. Plok... plok... The sound of my wet flesh hitting the cold furniture was obscene, a symphony of fluids that made me gasp loudly. I felt small, reduced to a simple orifice, and that reduction gave me the most intense euphoria of my life. There was no longer a teacher, no longer a wife; there was only a woman open and starving, surrendering her secret to the world in an act of absolute depravity.
I stayed in that position for several minutes, enjoying the agony of desire and the pleasure of exposure. My tits continued to hang heavily in front of me, swaying slightly with every gasp, while my lower half was totally surrendered to digital scrutiny. I was on the verge of collapse, muscles tense and mind clouded by an animal lust that screamed it was finally time to stop watching and start touching.
The tension in the room had reached a point of no return. I was there, leaning on the cold marble, legs open and intimacy exposed to thousands of invisible eyes. The freezing air of the room hit my wetness, but I was burning inside. I looked at the phone screen and saw that the chat was no longer asking for photos; now they demanded action. Words flew in a cascade of depravity: "Touch yourself," "I want to see you masturbate while you read us," "use your fingers, slut, get them dirty with your own juice."
Reading the word "get them dirty" triggered an electric spasm through my thighs. I felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by strangers, and that loss of control was the most exciting thing I had ever felt in my life. I was no longer the woman dictating rules in the classroom; now I was the one obeying dirty orders from the shadows of her own home.
Slowly, with one hand still resting on the marble to support my weight and the other descending toward my crotch, I began the execution. The first contact of my fingers against my clit was like a spark. I was so lubricated that my finger slipped instantly, producing a short, wet sound. Plok. I froze for a second, listening to that noise in the absolute silence of the room. It was the physical confirmation of my own excitement; I was dripping, completely surrendered to the morbidity.
"Oh God..." I let out a gasp that vibrated in my throat, while closing my eyes and letting myself be carried by the current.
I began to rub myself with circular movements, slow at first, feeling how the flesh of my vulva was swollen and sensitive. Every touch was an exquisite torture. As I increased the speed, the sound became more constant and visceral. Squelch... squelch... The noise of my fingers moving through the viscosity of my own desire filled my ears, mixing with the sound of my breath which was no longer a whisper, but an erratic, animal gasp.
I forced myself to open my eyes to read the chat while I touched myself. "Faster!", "look how your hole glistens," "bet you're thinking about how dirty you are." Reading that I was "dirty" while feeling the friction of my fingers against my clit gave me an adrenaline rush that made me arch my back. I felt divided: one part of me was still Professor Eunbi, horrified by her own conduct, but the other—the real, hungry one—enjoyed every second of this degradation.
I increased the pace, sinking a finger deeply into my vaginal canal while the thumb continued to hammer my clit with blind urgency. The sound was now a wet and obscene symphony. Squelch... plok... squelch... I felt the pressure in my pelvis grow until it became unbearable. My legs began to shake, and I had to press my toes against the floor to keep from collapsing.
In that moment, I forgot about the perfect position; I simply surrendered to raw pleasure. I let my huge tits hang heavily downward, swaying violently with every movement of my hips. The weight of my breasts pulling on my skin contrasted with the frenetic speed of my hand down there. I felt like a beast in heat, a woman reduced to a set of electric impulses and hot fluids.
"Look at me..." I whispered into the phone's microphone, though I didn't know who I was speaking to. "Look how I get... for you..."
The idea that thousands of men were watching my climax in real-time, observing how my fingers disappeared and reappeared in my wetness, pushed me to the limit. I felt my heart hammering against my ribs and the skin of my back prickling. The pleasure was no longer just physical; it was a psychological catharsis. I was breaking every chain they had imposed on me, destroying the image of the perfect woman piece by piece with every movement of my hand.
I was on the edge of the abyss, feeling the tension accumulate in a tight, hot knot just below my navel. My breathing was now a set of husky sobs, and my eyes were clouded by a lust that prevented me from thinking clearly. There only existed the wet sound of my fingers, the raw light of the lamp, and the insatiable hunger to end this torment.
The entire world had been reduced to a point of unbearable heat concentrated in my clit and the deafening sound of my own blood pulsing in my ears. I no longer heard the hum of the air or the silence of the house; I only heard the frenetic rhythm of my own fingers against my wet flesh and the incessant flow of dirty words sprouting from the chat. I was at the peak of the mountain, balancing dangerously over an abyss of pure pleasure and absolute depravity.
"Now! Come for us, slut! Do it right now!" I read on the screen, and that final order was like a bomb's detonator.
I let out an animal scream that tore through my throat, a sound I would have never allowed to escape my lips in any other context. My hand became a blur of movement; there was no longer any technique, no longer any rhythm, only a blind and desperate urgency to reach liberation. I sank my fingers with violent force into my wetness, hammering my clit with a speed that almost hurt, but that pain was the fuel I needed to jump into the void.
And then, it happened.
The orgasm hit me like a thousand-volt electric shock that raced up my spine and left me breathless. It was a violent burst, an explosion of pleasure so intense that I felt my mind fragment into a thousand pieces. My entire body arched against the cold marble of the furniture, my muscles tensed to the limit, and I let out a husky shriek that resonated throughout the room. I felt my belly contract in deep, rhythmic spasms, squeezing my fingers with instinctive force while waves of liquid heat flooded my legs.
It was the most violent orgasm of my life because it wasn't just physical; it was the discharge of years of repression, of matrimonial loneliness, and of a social mask that had been suffocating me. In that instant, I wasn't Professor Eunbi nor the trophy wife; I was simply a woman broken by pleasure, an animal creature surrendering completely to humiliation and desire. My huge tits oscillated violently with my body's spasms, hitting my own chest with a wet, dull sound while I shook in the climax, feeling every pore of my skin scream with satisfaction.
I stayed there, collapsed on the furniture, breath broken and heart hammering against my ribs as if it wanted to escape my chest. Sweat soaked the nape of my neck and my chest, and I felt the cold marble contrasting violently with the residual heat emanating from my crotch. My fingers were still trembling, stained with my own lubrication, while I stared fixedly at the camera with clouded eyes and dilated pupils.
On the screen, the chat was in a state of collective hysteria. "Holy shit, look how she shakes!", "that's the best climax I've ever seen," "she's totally destroyed." Reading those words while I recovered my breath provoked a dark, satisfied smile. I had achieved the unthinkable: I had turned my own vulnerability into a weapon of pleasure. I felt emptied, exhausted, but strangely filled with a clarity I had never possessed.
Slowly, I detached myself from the furniture and stood up, feeling my legs still shaking. I took the phone with a trembling hand and turned off the transmission without saying a single word. Silence flooded the room again, but it was no longer an oppressive silence; it was a complicit one.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was messy, my lips were swollen, and my tits were still rising and falling with the rapidity of my gasps. I saw myself and, for the first time, felt neither disgust nor fear. I felt power. The secret I now kept in my phone was a forbidden jewel, a key that allowed me to escape the marble prison I lived in.
I walked toward the bathroom to clean myself, feeling the brush of my own wet thighs with every step. I knew that tomorrow I would put on the white blouse again, that I would compress my tits in that suffocating bra, and that I would look at my students again with that glacial coldness they all respected. But now there was a fundamental difference: I knew who I was beneath those clothes. I knew that while they saw a perfect teacher, I was the woman who opened herself to the world for pleasure.
I looked at myself one last time in the mirror before dressing and smiled. The mask of ice was intact for the rest of the world, but inside me, the fire had just begun.
Being a successful businesswoman meant that people tended to do what Momo wanted. That was one of the good parts of her life, one of the best actually. Everything became even easier for her when she paid for things, because money is the universal language. It’s what makes the world go round and gets things done. That’s how she’d decided that she needed a good fuck that day and had simply hired someone for that, nothing more, nothing less.
Momo contacted the agency that usually provided her with people for those purposes, and simply asked for the person with the biggest cock available at that moment. No other requirements, just a big, juicy cock for her. Momo was assured that her wishes would be fulfilled, which she happily confirmed when the person they sent fucked her for the first time that night.
Now Momo was sitting on the sofa in the spacious living room of her home, wearing only a leopard-print satin robe. In one hand she held a cocktail, a cherry vodka, while the other caressed her crotch. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed, and a playful expression on her face as her tongue played with the balls of the gigolo she’d hired as if they were the cherries in her cocktail.
She’d asked for someone with a big cock, and that’s exactly what she’d gotten. Caleb was a stocky guy, in his early twenties, with skin as dark as chocolate, and quite tall. Much taller than Momo, at least. It was obvious that because of his line of work, Caleb had to take care of his appearance, so you could tell at a glance that he spent several hours a day at the gym. His shoulders were broad, his biceps thick and defined. His pecs were well-defined and hard. But not only that, his abs were also totally defined, to the point that they’d already given Momo an orgasm earlier when she rode the guy’s stomach. In short, Caleb was a full-fledged Adonis, and for Momo, the best part of his appearance was what hung between his legs.
Caleb had the thickest and juiciest cock Momo had ever seen in her life, even bigger than some of her most obscene toys. At that moment, the massive member covered most of Momo’s face, and she kept wrapping her tongue around Caleb’s balls as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The only thing that seemed to matter to the businesswoman at that moment was not spilling her cocktail while she continued to masturbate, and now she moved on to sucking Caleb’s balls.
With a loud pop! Caleb’s left ball popped out of Momo’s mouth, and she now began kissing and giving hickies to the cock resting on her face. She could feel the weight of the thick member on her face, and she could even still smell and taste her own fluids from when he’d fucked her earlier. The scent of her pussy was all over the guy’s cock.
Momo pulled her face away from the cock and sat up to gulp down the rest of her cocktail. She then put the fingers she’d been using to masturbate into her mouth and sucked on them while turning to look at Caleb with a lewd expression on her face, as if warning him she’d do the same to his cock. But in reality, Momo had already sucked his cock quite a bit that night, and to his surprise, she had taken the whole thing into her mouth. Something none of her clients had been able to do until now.
“It’s time for the next round, and you still have one more hole to stick your cock in.” The truth was, they’d been fucking nonstop since Caleb arrived at Momo’s house. In the bedroom, on the kitchen island, next to the front door, and even against the huge window overlooking the balcony. By this point, Caleb had already cum copiously inside Momo’s pussy and mouth several times, but as she said, they hadn’t tried anal sex yet.
Obediently, Caleb walked around the sofa to where Momo was, who knelt on the floor, resting her chest on the sofa and lifting her butt a little. “If you try to stick your dick in without preparing me first, I’ll kill you.” With that, Momo tossed him a bottle of baby oil and rested her head on her crossed arms, as if she were about to take a nap.
“Are you sure you can take me?” Even though he had to do whatever they asked of him, obviously within certain limits, Caleb’s concern was genuine. His cock was long and thick, and although Momo had already proven she could handle it, having it in her ass was a different story.
“Just prep me well and put a lot of lube on me. You’ll see it’s not my first time using my ass.” Momo herself had put some pretty big toys in her ass, but never anything the size of Caleb’s cock. Anyway, she was confident that with a good prep, she could take the full length of that member.
In the position Momo was in, the robe covered her almost completely. The garment draped over the curves of her body, covering her down to mid-thigh, so Caleb had to lift it to reveal one of the most beautiful and perfect asses he’d ever seen in his entire life. Given his “profession,” Caleb had seen a great many asses, so that wasn’t something he said lightly. But the truth was that he rarely came across a client with the body of a supermodel and the sexual appetite of a hooker, so he really didn’t have much to compare it to.
Momo’s ass was plump and shapely. Round and big, but you could tell that its size and shape weren’t just due to exercise because it was clear that genetics had also blessed Momo greatly. But despite its flawless appearance, both buttocks were different. The left one was a little rounder and firmer, while the right one drooped slightly, making the ass look asymmetrical. But somehow, far from being a flaw, that was something that reminded you that Momo was human and not a succubus straight out of your dreams, sent to devour you.
But Momo’s wonders weren’t limited to her butt. Her thighs were fleshy yet strong, looking athletic and perfectly shaped to support her butt. Perhaps nestled between them was one of Momo’s best features: her pussy. It was still wet after having been fucked several times by Caleb. Her labia minora protruded slightly from the labia majora, revealing the entrance to her pussy where Momo’s juices were still visible.
Caleb spread Momo’s butt cheeks, finally revealing the wrinkled entrance to her ass. With both hands, he pulled her cheeks apart and admired the tiny sphincter he had to prepare to receive his thick cock. At first glance, it seemed like an impossible task, so he would have to use more than just the lube she’d provided.
Of course, Caleb was well-versed in the arts of lovemaking; it was a fundamental requirement in his line of work, so eating ass was just another day at the office for him. He brought his mouth close to the small opening, sniffing a mixture of expensive perfume and the scent of sex and sweat. When Caleb’s tongue landed on Momo’s ass, he was finally able to taste that private area and, frankly, found it delicious. The taste invading his taste buds was salty from the sweat, but at the same time, Momo’s ass had an inexplicable sweetness that enhanced its flavor. The mixture of smells and tastes was somewhat intoxicating, and soon Caleb found himself practically devouring Momo’s ass.
He had started slowly, just licking and circling his tongue around her anus, but now it was as if Caleb were passionately kissing Momo’s ass. She did nothing but moan and clench her anus to tempt the prostitute, who was becoming increasingly absorbed in the task entrusted to him. Caleb not only licked but also pressed his tongue against the small opening until he managed to get it to open for him. Instantly, he thrust his tongue as deep as he could into Momo’s ass.
In perhaps the most obscene act he had performed that night, which was saying quite a lot, Caleb caressed the walls of Momo’s rectum with his tongue. It seemed as if the two of them were connected, forming an obscene and perverted creature born solely to experience pleasure. Momo gasped as loudly as she could, eyes closed and mouth wide open, while Caleb thrust his tongue as deep as humanly possible. If this was what he was doing with his tongue, Momo couldn’t wait to see how Caleb’s cock would fill her ass, thoughts that had her pussy soaking wet again.
Releasing the buttocks he’d been holding in his hands, Caleb began to explore Momo’s body. Caressing her hips, kneading her thighs, and even stroking her back, Caleb’s hands roamed over Momo’s burning body but never touched her pussy again. Caleb could feel the heat radiating from her cunt, and without looking, he knew it was throbbing, but he was too absorbed in eating Momo’s ass to worry about a hole he’d already enjoyed. Incredibly, eating Momo’s ass had turned out to be more pleasurable for him than eating her pussy. But in reality, his enjoyment here mattered little or not at all.
“I need something bigger.” Although the pleasure was intense, Momo needed more; a tongue in her ass was far from everything she wanted, she demanded more. Even though the urge was to shove his cock in there, Caleb knew it wasn’t time yet, that he had to prepare Momo better if he didn’t want to hurt her.
Somewhat reluctantly, Caleb pulled away from the delicious ass in front of him to grab the bottle of oil and pour a generous amount over Momo. Not directly onto her anus, but onto the upper part of her butt, from where he began to spread it all over her ass. Applying more when necessary, Caleb made sure Momo’s ass was shiny and well-lubricated all over, but the best part was when he dipped his ring finger into the viscous liquid and, in a single motion, shoved it into Momo’s ass.
If Momo was already panting before, now she began to moan. It was true that her ass was already somewhat accustomed to that kind of intrusion because Momo was no stranger to anal sex, but Caleb shoved his finger all the way in without warning or any preparation other than having eaten her ass. Her pussy and her anus throbbed at the same time, one clenching around nothing and the other around the intruding finger. But Caleb didn’t stop there; if he wanted to stick his cock in that beautiful hole, he still had work to do.
Momo’s anus made an obscene noise when Caleb pulled his finger out almost completely and then shoved it back in with a thrust. Momo didn’t protest but simply moaned and moved her ass suggestively, making her buttocks tremble in a delicious way. So Caleb began to fuck Momo’s ass with a single thick, relentless finger. A silent promise of what it would be like to have his cock in that very same hole.
The businesswoman demonstrated great control over her sphincter, relaxing it at will so Caleb could push his finger as deep as possible. It soon became clear that she had already gotten used to it, and a second finger joined the first, forcing its way into her ass with a bit more difficulty. Just two fingers, and Momo already felt stretched to the limit; she could already feel her pussy throbbing and dripping with the sheer anticipation of having to accommodate Caleb’s massive cock inside her.
A thin trickle of oil fell between Momo’s buttocks, serving as lubricant for those intrusive fingers forcing their way into her anus. The coolness of the liquid contrasted with the heat her skin had acquired after so many orgasms, after having fucked a few times.
“Oh my—Oohh!!” Momo couldn’t speak properly when Caleb spread his fingers, stretching her ass even further, forcing the ring of muscles to its limit. As Momo struggled to withstand it, the gigolo shoved a third finger into Momo’s tight ass, and she almost came right then and there.
It was incredible that she could hold those three thick fingers in her ass, have them shoved all the way in, and still endure Caleb spreading them apart. Her anus protested, but Momo felt no pain from being stretched; all her body processed was incredible pleasure. Pleasure she was slowly becoming addicted to.
Her pussy burned almost as intensely as her ass. Neglected and with no action for the moment, Momo’s pussy throbbed freely, dripping nectar and letting it run down her thighs, mixing with the oil. She was definitely going to need a bath after this, and maybe sex in the hot tub wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
A little oil ran into her ass and Momo shuddered. Now Caleb was spreading her cheeks, stretching her ass to limits she hadn’t seen in a long time; her sphincter was literally burning as it clenched around those intrusive fingers, but she didn’t stop the gigolo from his task. Caleb kept fingering her ass, spreading his fingers and enjoying the beautiful sounds coming from Momo’s mouth. Without a doubt, the guy was a pro at what he did, though that had already been proven earlier.
With a fart-like sound, Caleb abruptly pulled his fingers out of Momo’s ass, splashing a little oil and leaving her anus wide open. It took a few seconds for the sphincter to return to its original state, which meant Momo was ready for the main course. Enough with the games, now it was time for the real action.
Momo let out a little scream when Caleb grabbed her by the hips and pulled her away from the sofa she was leaning against. Now deprived of the support the furniture had offered, the businesswoman was on all fours on the carpet, her crotch fully exposed and her big tits hanging out. Many would have, and had, done unthinkable things to have Momo like this, but Caleb was getting paid for it. A real stroke of luck for the guy.
Still a little unsure whether Momo would be able to take his cock in her ass, Caleb positioned himself behind her. “Ready to be stretched?” he asked as he jerked off to spread oil along the length of his cock.
“To be stretched and filled,” Momo corrected him with a playful smile. She had paid for this and expected nothing less than the best, though in reality she was already getting it.
“Let’s see if you’re so cocky when I stick my dick in you.” Caleb tapped Momo’s ass with his cock a couple of times before rubbing the tip against her sphincter.
“You’ve already shoved it all the way down my throat and into my pussy, what makes you think that- Oooohhhhhh, God!!” The question Momo was asking trailed off because Caleb decided that was the perfect moment to shove his cock into Momo’s eager ass. With more effort than he had expected, he managed to get the head of his cock past the businesswoman’s sphincter.
It was true that her ass had been prepared very well and that Momo was no stranger to anal sex, but still, nothing could have fully prepared her to receive the cock that was being shoved into her ass. Only the tip was inside, but somehow it felt just as thick, or even thicker, than the fingers that had stretched her out before. Honestly, not even her biggest toys had made her feel this full after going in so little.
“I barely put the tip in and you’re already like this.” Caleb’s teasing had the desired effect because Momo looked at him with a murderous glint in her eyes and, giving it her all, moved her ass backward, thus pushing more of that thick cock inside herself. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, Momo clenched her ass to swallow more and more of Caleb’s heavy member, feeling how the piece of meat stretched her sphincter and pushed against her walls.
“What were you saying?” Now it was Momo who smiled because, despite everything, she had managed to fit half the cock into her ass. Something truly admirable to accomplish without much trouble, given the size of Caleb’s body and the stark contrast with Momo’s.
“God, I love my job.” The gigolo smacked Momo’s ass with a hard slap before using his right hand to grab the opposite cheek, leaving Momo’s anus fully exposed and now able to see how it was swallowing his cock.
Up until now, the pace had been slow. Although Momo was taking it without any major problems other than the occasional strange movement of her mouth, which were probably silent moans, that wasn’t what she wanted; it was far from what she had paid for. Realizing this, Caleb took matters into his own hands and, with a thrust of his hips, forced a large portion of his cock into Momo’s ass. The businesswoman moaned audibly this time, unable to resist without sighing.
Almost there, just a little more and Caleb’s cock would be completely inside the woman’s ass. Just a few more centimeters, one more thrust, and that was it. A single thrust and bam! Caleb’s hips slammed against Momo’s ass, making a slapping sound that mingled with the powerful moan escaping her mouth. Somehow she’d managed it; Momo had managed to fit, not without effort, the gigolo’s huge cock into her ass. That was the first step, but now came the interesting part, because of course she wasn’t going to settle for just having the cock shoved in and that being it. No, what Momo wanted was to have her ass fucked and her insides rearranged in the process.
“Your ass really was able to take my cock.”
“I told you I could. Now, what are you waiting for to fuck my ass?” Momo relaxed and clenched her anus to hurry the guy along, or at least she did as much as she could because her sphincter was really stretched out right now.
“Are you always this impatient?” Caleb slowly pulled his hips back to pull almost all of his cock out of Momo’s ass.
“Yeah, but especially when someone promise me a good fuck and then nooooooth-” In what was quickly becoming a habit, Caleb used his cock to cut Momo off and stop her from finishing her sentence. He rammed into the businesswoman with force, driving his entire cock into Momo’s ass in one single thrust. “Oh fuck!”
Without hesitation, Caleb began pounding Momo’s ass like a piston. Aided by the oil, the massive hunk of meat that was his cock relentlessly forced its way in, stretching Momo’s sphincter and slamming against its walls. His cock was so thick and long that when it was fully inside Momo, it reached all the way to her colon. Which caused her a delicious discomfort, something else to add to the mix of pleasurable sensations that were now flooding her body.
With every new thrust of the man’s hips against Momo’s plump ass, her tits moved too. In fact, her whole body was trembling, but it was her tits that hung freely and swung back and forth like giant pendulums. Earlier, Caleb had already come all over those tits, painting them white with thick strands of cum, the very same cum Momo hoped the man would soon shoot inside her ass.
They’d already lost count of how many combined orgasms they’d had that night, but the number was high, and it seemed the count was far from over. Not while Caleb was thrusting his cock in and out of Momo’s ass, as she moaned nonstop like she hadn’t in quite some time, proving that the gigolo was fully living up to her expectations.
Caleb’s balls slapped against Momo’s skin every time he rammed into her, making a wet sound from the oil and how soaked her pussy was. The gigolo was putting all the strength he’d built up through hours of grueling exercise into filling Momo’s ass with as much of his cock as possible, relentlessly pushing his way through the businesswoman’s rectum like a locomotive entering a tunnel.
If it weren’t for the fact that Momo was already used to anal sex, she’d probably be worried right now that Caleb was going to split her ass open, that he was going to tear her in two, but since she was no stranger to that, she could focus on the pleasure. Even so, her ass still burned; even with copious amounts of oil, her anus still offered some resistance to the entry of that massive column of meat. But there was nothing in the world Momo could do, or wanted to do, to stop Caleb from continuing to impale her.
Without breaking the rhythm of his hips, Caleb yanked Momo’s hair, forcing her head back, while he leaned over her. “You’re quite a whore, but despite all the use, your ass is still tight.” Caleb spat the words from above trying to taunt her.
Momo’s response was as obscene as she herself could be. Instead of words, the businesswoman rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, panting like a bitch in heat while the corners of her lips curved into a smile. Presenting herself as the truly depraved creature she really was.
Normally, Momo would never have let anyone treat her like this, not in the business world, at least. But here? Here, things were different. She had hired Caleb precisely for this; although not explicitly stated in her request, this was what Momo was looking for when she asked for the biggest cock available. Losing control, letting herself go, accepting that someone else would take the initiative or disrespect her. These were all things Momo could only do in the heat of sex.
Being on all fours in her living room while a black Adonis fucked her ass as if his life depended on it was an indulgence Momo didn’t always allow herself. But when she did, she let herself go completely. There was no point in hiring a professional and paying him such a large sum of money if she wasn’t going to end up with every hole sore and full of cum. That was the special treatment she expected from someone like Caleb, nothing more and nothing less. Only with someone like him and in a situation like this did Momo allow herself to surrender control and abandon herself to pleasure.
“God, what a slut.” Caleb’s voice rang out between the slaps of his hips against Momo’s plump ass.
“The best you’ll ever have.” The businesswoman managed to say between gasps, and to tell the truth, she was right. Caleb would probably never find another client like her, which made him enjoy this moment even more. None of his regular client was this pretty, this horny, and this crazy. For him being paid by Momo felt like win the lottery without even playing it.
The gigolo let go of Momo’s hair, and she was pushed forward by the force of his thrusts. Her huge tits no longer hung freely but were pressed against the floor, providing some support as her ass continued to be stretched. The movement caused her nipples to brush against the carpet, stimulating her even more. Momo moaned, Caleb growled, and thrust harder, slamming into the businesswoman’s colon.
The new position meant Momo now had her hands free; she no longer had to use them to support her weight. Which was a relief because now she could do something better with them, something like reaching for her crotch and relieving the pressure building up in her poor pussy. Up until now, all the action had been focused on her ass, leaving her cunt neglected and untouched; and even though she’d already been fucked in that hole quite a few times that night, Momo still needed stimulation there.
Feeling Caleb’s thrusts reverberate throughout her entire body, Momo reached for her center, which she found soaking wet and throbbing. Her fingers slid easily inside her pussy, making their way in at a different rhythm than the one with which the huge cock was drilling her ass. The contrast between her delicate fingers exploring her pussy and the hunk of meat stretching her ass was almost comical; probably not even four of Momo’s fingers put together could match the thickness of such a member. But even though her fingers didn’t seem enough, they actually helped quite a bit; the caresses on her pussy were the icing on the cake.
“Ooohh Yes! Fuck, that feels so good.” Momo spread her fingers, stretching her pussy, trying to imitate in part what Caleb had done to her before and was now doing to her ass. But nothing could match the feeling of having the gigolo inside her. Momo could even feel with her fingers how the guy’s thick member was forcing its way into her rectum, relentless and unstoppable; filling her to such an extent that Momo could almost caress his member through her delicate vaginal walls. As if her cunt were nothing more than a surgical glove, and she were a nurse jerking off her patient.
At this point, Caleb no longer bothered to speak; he simply focused on pounding the businesswoman and filling her ass with his cock, slamming into her colon and making her moan. He held Momo by the hips and penetrated her as fast and hard as he could, while she masturbated by shoving two fingers into her pussy.
Momo felt so dirty, so depraved, like a true bitch in heat for whom filling just one hole wasn’t enough. So much so that she was fucking her own pussy while longing to have a cock in her mouth as well. Maybe another time… But for now her mouth was busy moaning and gasping, letting out obscene noises. At that very moment, Momo had one cheek pressed against the carpeted floor, but it didn’t matter; all she cared about was the insistent way her walls were closing around her fingers and Caleb’s cock.
Both of the businesswoman’s holes throbbed with fiery fervor, contracting more and more, closing to the point where it made penetrating them more difficult. But that only made Caleb thrust harder, pushing with more intensity, growling as he dug his fingers into Momo’s hips. He pounded her so hard that every time their skin collided, a loud slap echoed, as if there were a crowd there applauding them for fucking like animals in heat.
The combined force of Caleb’s thrusts and the movements of her fingers pushed Momo to her limit. Her pussy contracted and released a huge gush of fluids, which ran down her thigh, while her ass clenched as tight as it could, trapping the cock inside her like a boa constrictor wrapping itself around its prey. That made Caleb let out a growl and he couldn’t hold back any longer either.
Like a dam bursting, Caleb came without hesitation inside Momo’s ass. Filling her insides with copious amounts of warm semen, emptying his balls inside the businesswoman until not a single drop of semen remained inside them. But even then Momo's asshole kept milking his shaft.
Gasping from the effort of relentless fucking the woman, Caleb pulled back. His cock slid out of Momo’s ass with an obscene sound, a mix between a squelch and a fart. The gigolo was exhausted, so he sat down on the floor, propping himself up on his hands, admiring what he had done to the businesswoman’s ass.
Momo remained on all fours with her ass in the air, slapping her pussy in an attempt to cope with the immense sensation of pleasure she was feeling. Her anus was still visibly open, or rather wide open. From where he was sitting, Caleb could see how the inside of her rectum was flooded with cum, and how an equal amount was oozing out of her anus and running down her crotch and thighs.
When Momo opened the door for him that afternoon, the gigolo couldn’t even have imagined he’d end up seeing her like this. Most of his clients had trouble fitting even half of his massive cock into their pussies, so anal was out of the question almost every time. But Momo had swallowed his cock whole and had endured the punishment without much trouble. Which, in itself, was quite impressive.
“It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this.” Momo blew a strand of hair out of her face. She had collapsed onto her side and was now looking at Caleb with a demonic gleam in her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Her face was covered in sweat, and the carpet was imprinted on one cheek from how hard he’d pounded her. From the distance, Caleb could see that her cheek was also stained with dried saliva, indicating that she had literally drooled with pleasure.
“That full?” Caleb asked.
“Exactly. So full, so horny, so used… Like a whore.” Momo barely managed to sit up and, grimacing, crawled over to where the gigolo was. “You don’t know how lucky you are…” With total brazenness, the businesswoman rubbed her face against Caleb’s cock, which, despite being flaccid, was still a considerable size.
“Yaaaa!! You crazy bitch, you’re going to drain me dry.” That was all Caleb could say as Momo took his cock into her mouth with a wide smile, feeling the taste of cum and her own ass flood her senses until the tip was far pass her uvula.
A/N: I started writing this after that Jihyo x BBC story I posted a while back, and as my previous story I thought this was the right moment to finish it. No much to say about this, is just straight porn with nothing more inside.
It was a clear night. The hum and the hues of phosphor green polluted my senses. All I could hear was the sound of the plane's engines roaring with the occasional rattling from the gear while the highlights of my squad blinded my vision. No one said anything as we all stared into each other with the certainty that this mission was crucial. I held my AR-15 firm thinking about what we had practiced for weeks. As a member of the Delta Forces, we go through so many situations and protocols for every scenario.
Nothing could prepare for what was to occur.
We were currently 10 clicks away from the target's compound. The plan was to shoot and kill the target while retrieving any evidence for future use. The target has been involved in many war crimes, and we are tasked to take his empire down. This was a joint operation between the UDT and Delta Forces.
"Hey! If this mission succeeds, then drinks on me tonight boys!" My best friend Dex shouted. He was the face of our squad, but also the man I would trust with my dear life. Dex and I have been childhood friends but separated when I moved to the States due to my father being in the military. When I was deployed in Korea that was when I met him again, and we have been in touch ever since.
The squadron shouts in excitement which amps up everyone. I just smile and chuckle.
"You really are something else. Proud to be in this together with you Dex." I dapped him up and he said, "Always right behind you." he replied
Suddenly, we began talking about plans after our mission. Jin was the first to say something. He was the oldest, but also the moral compass of the group.
"I cannot wait to go home after this. I have not seen my wife in 6 months!!" Jin shouted. Every man nodded and replied what they were looking forward to. Jin had a wife, Bobby wanted to see his family again, and Wonho just wanted to lay low and enjoy being a civilian.
"Dex! What are you going to do when you get home?" I asked and he just gave me a sheepish face.
"I plan on finally being honest." Dex said, his voice becoming serious and lower so the others wouldn't hear. He reached into his tactical vest and reached for a small photo of someone I did not recognize, "I am going to be settling down with her. No more calls from a satellite phone. Just me and her." He then reached back into his pocket to put the photo.
I was about to inquire who she was until the radio chirped in.
"Captain! Do you copy?"
"Yes I copy! What's the status?" I replied, holding the radio to my ear.
"Captain, the target is in his bedroom and currently sleeping. You are cleared to jump. Good luck, and may God protect us all."
That was the call. As soon as we heard our command, we all stood up. One by one my comrades jumped out of the plane. I took a deep breath and took a couple of steps forward.
Dex ran and patted me before running out the ramp.
"Come on man!! If you do not jump now, I am going to tell everyone about this!!"
"God damn it Dex!"
I ran and jumped out of the plane.
I felt the cold air rushing through my mask while the ground suddenly got closer. I saw Dex below me like a shadow in the night. I deployed my parachute feeling the jerk from the air as it pulled me back.
We landed about 800 meters out, hitting the ground with rhythm. Within seconds, my squad readied their gear, and I gave the signal to cut off all radio communications as this will be a stealth mission from here. Everyone looked tense, but it did not phase me.
"Stack up," I signaled with a closed fist as we reached the perimeter wall.
Dex was right behind me, his hand on my right shoulder. The 'all-clear' squeeze I'd felt a thousand times. We breached the side door and instantaneously killed the two bodyguards in the hallway with our suppressed rifles.
We walked up the stairs, killing any guy that stood in our way, while also checking our position and clearing all the corners. At the end of the hallway, we saw a door that knew contained the target based on spy data provided to us. I gave the hand signal to stop.
My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of the kill. I looked at Dex. He gave me a sharp nod, his thumb hovering over the safety of his weapon.
Click
I kicked the door and there he was. All asleep with no intention of waking up. I quickly shot the guy and confirmed his death.
"Overwatch, the target is dead. We have cleared the compound."
While Bobby, Jin, and Wonho were gathering evidence in the house, Dex was with me at the kill site when we saw a red blinking light under the bed. We looked at it and our eyes widened.
"Shit! It's a deadman's switch!!! Evacuate the premises now!" I shouted onto the radio.
Dex and I booked it as soon as we saw it, but at the last moment I felt a strong shove from behind me.
"DEX WHAT THE FU--"
KABOOM!!!
The whole compound was enveloped in a ball of fire and collapsed on itself. I remember falling from the second floor all the way down to first floor with visions of fire and smoke. Then after landing on the first floor, I saw a piece of the ceiling fall directly on me.
Everything turned black after that moment.
GASP!!!!
Suddenly, the world was bright again. I took off my goggles, and screamed in pain.
I couldn't feel my legs at first, only the high-pitched ring in my ears that drowned out the world. I tried to inhale, but my lungs filled with dust and God knows what else..
"Dex!" I croaked. My voice felt like I was breathing in glass. My chest hurting every time I speak.
I pushed a heavy piece of a wooden beam off my chest with my hands shaking. The compound was a skeleton of fire and debris. Through the haze, I saw a figure a few yards away, pinned under a section of the collapsed ceiling. I tried getting up and running through the pain, but could only crawl.
"Dex! Talk to me!! Why did you do that man!!"
I crawled. It felt heavier with each attempt. When I reached him, I realized that it was not going to be pretty. Both of his legs were gone, and his face that he brags about was all bloodied. His vest was also shredded with shrapnel and his breathing was wet.
I grabbed his hand, trying to find a way to lift the debris, but he gripped my glove with surprising strength. He knew.
"Stop... leave it," he wheezed, blood dark on his chin.
"Shut the fuck up, Dex. We're getting to the bird and going home. Drinks on you, remember?" I was lying, and we both knew it. I held his left hand and started crying. I could not believe I was going to lose my best friend.
Dex coughed up a ball of blood and whispered "I have one last thing for you." He coughed.
He fumbled with the velcro of his breast pocket. His fingers were slick, but he pulled out a small, laminated object. It was the same polaroid with him and a girl when we were on the plane. I did not know who it was, but she seemed important. In that photo, she was kissing him on the cheek, while Dex was holding her tight.
"Find Sana... and take care of her. Can you do that for me?" he whispered,
"Yes Dex!! I promise!!" I sobbed while holding onto him.
His eyes started to lose focus. "Tell her... I'm sorry I missed the comeback. Tell her... that I loved her... I am sorry..."
He tried to give that sheepish smirk one last time, but his hand went limp, with the photo landing on my palm.
"Dex??"
"Dex!! No, not like this!!"
"FUCK!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!!"
I cried over his body, and I did not want to move. The world felt like it stopped when Dex passed. I did not expect to lose my best friend so soon.
Beep Beep
"Captain!! Please inform us of your status!!" It was Jin, and I was glad to hear his voice, but the sorrow from Dex's death was hovering.
"This is the Captain. Jin, did anyone else make it?"
"Bobby, Wonho, and I made it out when you called us over on the comms. We are searching for you guys right now. Is everything okay?" Jin sounded frantic
I took a deep breath while looking at Dex's lifeless body. Tears running down my face again.
"Jin.. Dex is gone.."
The radio suddenly felt silent.
"Roger that... We called in an extraction.. I am sorry Captain. I know how much he meant to you."
The following is Chapter 12 in the Toy series - but it can (mostly) be read on its own.
This chapter is from the POV of Woody.
11,668 words.
---
My mind in a vice grip
Your legs still wrapped around my head
In that hotel suite
Cigarette ashes on my bed
They stain the sheets - I see you nude, dancing around my room
As if you ain’t a thousand miles back home
But it’s cool I’ll probably see you soon
I can’t go to that thrift store
Without smelling sex in the dressing room
Can’t hear my favorite film score
Without sweet nothings played on loop
It’s kind of rude, won’t let me loose
As if you weren’t a thousand miles back home
But it’s cool I’ll probably see you soon
I can still feel you kiss me
I thought I was ready
to see you off on that flight
I said goodbye - but as the clock, it ticks on by
I realize I’m still holding you close
As if you ain’t a thousand miles back home
But least we got telephones
Whoever said “out of sight, out of mind”
Fucking lied
‘Cause you’re not by, by my side
Still keep me up at night
I can still feel you kiss me
-Holywatr, “Without U”
---
It’s painful, honestly, the way she does it.
She steps into the cafe like she owns it, despite the oversized hoodie and ridiculously short denim shorts that looked worn out and threadbare but are probably designer and worth more than what you make in a month. The cap on her head, the large sunglasses, and the mask cover her - because without them someone might recognize her face as one that’s been on a million screens, a thousand advertisements, all over the world.
She looks, almost, like she doesn’t care. She looks like any other young woman grabbing an overpriced, oversweetened dose of caffeine that she’ll probably snap a picture of for her Instagram story before leaving half-finished on a sidewalk somewhere. She reaches the counter and mutters an order to a barista that doesn’t deign to even look up from the tablet he punches her order into.
Every movement she makes is painful to you. Her nonchalance - her indifference - stings. It’s a sharp spike poised above your ribs, giving you tiny little jabs of bright pain.
She steps aside from the register and saunters to the waiting area. A hand slips into her oversized tote - which, like the rest of her attire, hid a ludicrous price tag beneath its ragged exterior - to produce a phone that she idly scrolls as she waits.
It’s then that she sees you.
Dark glasses turn. The mask hides her expression. You imagine it’s hiding a regretful sigh, or one of disgust at something unpleasant that she’ll have to take care of - like a full trash can that needs to be emptied.
The barista calls her name - not her real one, not here, out in public - and she takes the plastic caffeine container, loaded with an obscene amount of ice and whipped cream and those stupid fucking chocolate sprinkles she loves so much. She walks over to the corner booth where you’re sitting, sits across from you.
The mask drops. The glasses come off.
Minatozaki Sana was many things. Idol, model.
Today she is just a young woman throwing away a toy she’d grown tired of.
---
“You look like you’re doing well,” she says, flatly. Her eyes, often so full of mirth and mischief and something she wanted people to interpret as joy - they look dull and uninterested today, as though she’d had to force herself to be here, to see you.
You don’t know what to say. What could you say? This was one of the most popular woman on earth, one of the most gorgeous, and you’d spent the last few years catering to her every whim. You’d seen her at her highest, supported you through her lowest, fucked her throughout. Those lips had wrapped themselves around your cock, whispered filth against shower tiles as you took her from behind, spilt her hopes and dreams and deepest insecurities on those quiet nights between shows when all you did was hold her in her hotel room while she cried about how she believed everyone around her wanted her just for her looks and not for the girl beneath them ---
And now she was greeting you with the same interest she had given the barista moments earlier.
“I’m good,” you manage, although the words that leave your lips seem to come from a voice that isn’t yours.
“How’s your mom?” she continues, even as she takes her drink and stirs it absently, taking a short sip of the sugar water within.
“She’s good, she’s good,” you answer. The words cost you something to say, because speaking to her isn’t free anymore, not now. “The doctors say she’s responding well to the treatment. They say she’ll be out of the hospital in a few weeks.”
“Good,” she says. Her eyes don’t meet yours. She takes another sip of her drink. “Which hospital is she at?”
“She just got transferred to the Women’s Hospital, the one on 6th street.”
Sana nods, barely, but doesn’t make eye contact.
“How are you?” you ask, because that was how conversations worked, right? She asks how you are, you answer, you ask her how she is, she answers. You don’t have the courage or the brain cells to manage much more than that - not now, not when the woman sitting across from you is who she is.
Silence. It’s only for a few seconds as he stirs her drink with that green paper straw she hated so much. The world thought they knew everything about Minatozaki Sana, but her hatred of paper straws is something only you know about her. It’s an intimate thing, amidst the myriad of other intimate things you know of her.
But none of that knowledge is able to bridge the silence between you. It lasts only a few seconds, but they feel like forever.
“How are the girls?” you add, hoping a simpler question might prompt more conversation, might produce something, anything out of her to fill this painful, terrible silence.
“They’re good. Tour wrapped up. Just the encores in Seoul to go.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you… how was… uh, the cities?”
She looks up at you, finally, at the random words spilling from your mouth in some vain attempt to maintain some semblance of normalcy. She’s stunning - even without an ounce of makeup or the small platoon of makeup artists and hairstylists that make her look the way she does on those screens and advertisements - but today she looks tired, and uninterested, and done with it.
Done with you.
“They were good,” she answers, finally. Her attention returns to her drink to the sugar, water, and caffeine concoction on the table between you, as though it were a third participant in this awful, painful conversation. Silence returns, for too long.
“Sana, I-”
“Listen,” she says, at a volume and with a tone that rattles you. “We both know why we’re here.”
You don’t say anything. How could you?
“We can’t do this anymore,” she says. Her eyes falter for a moment - just a moment - before she wrestles them back in line. “It was fun. But it was a dream. Time to wake up. It’s over.”
Your words fail you. Two years - two years you’d spent with this woman - and they’re all gone, all over, just like that - a dream to be woken up from, a toy to be discarded.
You want to say something. Want to tell her the past few years have been the best of your life, that you’d seen cities and done things and had experiences that you’d long thought only existed in movies or k-dramas or fanfiction - and that she was at the center of all that, the source of it, the only reason why you were able to experience it all and that you will thank her, with every second of the rest of your life, that she picked you out of the thousands of men at that concert two years, eight months, three days and sixteen hours ago---
“Sana-” you begin, but no words follow.
“I don’t need a manager that will just get up and leave me randomly,” she states, the words somehow sharp and cold at the same time. “I need someone I can depend on. Whenever, wherever. You’re not that person. Not anymore.”
She lets the words lie there in the space between you for a moment that felt much longer than it actually was. Something painful flares in your chest.
“The company will send you the rest of your pay,” she continues. “And the non-disclosure agreement, of course.” The glasses and mask come back on, covering up those gorgeous features of hers. Her eyes catch yours before the glasses cover them up and there’s something there that hurts you - the indifference, the nonchalance, the arrogance of this woman for tossing you aside like some unwanted trinket she’d grown bored of.
But it’s fleeting. The lenses are opaque and dark and you wonder if you’ll ever see those eyes this closely again. She gathers her things.
“Bye,” she says, and for a moment you imagine there’s regret, or sadness, or something soft and fragile in her voice - but then you realize it was probably your imagination, your heart protecting itself from being shattered into a million pieces right there on the floor of some fucking chain coffee shop.
She leaves.
Her drink sits on the table, barely-touched, left behind.
---
“We miss you, bro.”
Pikachu was a good guy. He was on the other side of the world, but the wonders of modern technology meant you could still pick out the genuine tone in his words and the worry behind them.
“Thanks, dude. I miss you guys too. How’s Buzz?”
“Aw, you know,” Pikachu answers. “It is what it is. You know she’s… she’s dating someone else now, right?”
You don’t have to ask who he means by ‘she’. It was common knowledge now, and had been plastered all over the k-pop blogs when news of it broke. The ‘ideal couple,’ they were called, because they both looked like marble statues of the fucking Olympians brought to life.
Buzz, on the other hand, was a little short and scrawny; but admittedly, most men looked scrawny next to her new boyfriend.
“Tell him to keep his head up,” you answer. “He’s a good guy. I heard he’s getting into acting after the tour is done?”
“He is,” Pikachu replies. “The other managers want him to stay on, but I think he wants a break from it all. He accepted a role last week. It starts filming at the end of the year.”
There’s a moment of sad silence between you, a melancholy, an acknowledgement that the brotherhood that had formed between the three of you was reaching its natural end, and there was nothing any of you could do to stop it. It was fleeting, momentary - three men brought together under the most ridiculous circumstances - but you treasured it, cherished it all the same. You shared some of the best of years of your life with them, and now that time was coming to an end.
A dream to wake up from.
“How’s your mom?” Pikachu asks, and you answer - she’s doing fine, the doctors have run the tests and prescribed the drugs, but she’ll need a little more time in the hospital to recover. Pikachu is thoughtful and genuine, and makes a promise to come visit her, and you, someday.
“And how’s…” he hesitates for a moment, knowing he was approaching sore, still-bleeding territory. “How are things with you and Sana?”
You gather yourself for a moment. The wound was still fresh. You’re still trying to get over the way she did it, the way she threw you left you behind like that fucking drink she left on the table. Anger flares for a moment. You hide it.
“We’re done,” you answer, and the words leave a lump in your throat as they pass. “She… she broke things off after I came back home for mom. I saw her last week in person on her way back to Seoul. Said she needed someone that wasn’t going to just leave at random times. You know how she is - needy as fuck. Threw me aside like a piece of trash but hey, at least she did it to my face.”
You manage a sad chuckle. Pikachu is supportive. He’s a bro, he knows what to do. He tells you she was a bitch to break things off with you the way she did, when she did. He tells you she’s a spoiled brat, that she’s used to people doting on her 24/7/365 and couldn’t handle someone who had other priorities. He goes off on how needy she always is, and how she’s constantly seeking the attention and approval of everyone around her, and how exhausting that is for everyone.
He says the right things, and you knew him well enough to know that he meant them.
The call nears its end. Pikachu has a team meeting to attend in ten minutes, where the managers and the crew will be discussing the wrap-up of the European leg and begin preparations for the finales in Seoul. He mentions, offhandedly, that Momo and Chaeyoung have been at odds in the past few weeks, and that management wants him to take care of it before the finales start.
For a moment, you consider telling him something - a secret you’d long held. Something he should know.
“Take care of yourself, bro. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?” he says, before you can formulate the words.
“Yeah,” you answer. The secret dies on your lips.Talking about her was the last thing you wanted to do. “Soon, bro.”
---
At the hospital, your sister tells you to go home - she’d gotten some time off work and could watch your mom for a while. You often fought with your sister in the way siblings do, but you loved her, and she loved you, and her insistence that you “go home and shower the depression off” was her way of showing it.
Your apartment wasn’t as kind to you as you’d hoped it would be.
Relics of the past few years are everywhere - tour merch, clothes and trinkets and souvenirs from the cities you’d visited on tour, photos of you and some combination of Pikachu or Buzz or even a few of the girls at some bar in Mexico City, a coffee shop in Prague, in front of the Space Needle in Seattle. Nayeon and Jeongyeon looking like an old married couple as they posed in front of the Eiffel Tower. Mina looking ethereal on the foggy streets of Berlin. Chaeyoung in Amsterdam at a thrift shop, smiling brightly at Pikachu, standing next to her with arms full with a pile of clothes she was going to try on.
And then, a framed picture - you and Sana somewhere in Tokyo, before the tour. Chaeyoung had snapped it with one of those silly vintage film cameras of hers, and it’s suitably artsy - a little out of focus, a little more candid than either of you were expecting. But your arm is around her, and you’re both a little tipsy from the half-empty wine bottle on the table beside you, and she’s smiling at you like-
You swear. You grasp the frame and hurl it across the room. You don’t hear the crash it makes as it slams into the wall. You bury your face in your hands.
The shattered glass glitters like stars on your living room carpet.
The past floods back, merciless.
---
“It fucking sucks.”
“I know it does,” you answer. “But they don’t know, Sana. They don’t know.”
She sighs, her breath a warm rush of air against your collarbone. She nuzzles closer into your neck, and her hair fills your nostrils with her scent - she smells like springtime, like something new, something bright.
“It’s all they see,” she continues, her voice weak in a way none of her fans have ever heard. “They see the ads, the fashion shows. I’m just a mannequin. The lipstick. The sports bra. My tits pushed up to my chin on stage-”
“They’re great tits,” you answer, softly, a nervous smile wobbly on your lips - one that you’re relieved to find is mirrored on her own.
“They’re great tits,” she repeats, playfully, and she straightens her back slightly and gives them a little shake. They’re small, modest, and on stage they’re more bra than breast - not that you gave a damn, not when they’re there, in front of you, and they’re naked and bare, nipples still tight and taut. After you’ve looked your fill she settles back against you, wrapping an arm around your torso and a warm, naked thigh over yours. You can feel the heat between her legs, and the neat patch of hair above her cunt on your hip. A trickle of something warm drips onto your hip.
“I just wish they saw more,” she continues.
You lie there with her in a long but not uncomfortable silence. She makes a pillow of your shoulder and chest. Your left hand weaves through her hair, the silken strands falling between your fingers at the end of each stroke.
“I don’t,” you say.
She looks up at you, those doe eyes of hers wide.
“You don’t?” she asks, surprised.
“No,” you answer. Your free hand reaches up to the side of her face, brushing a few strands of hair aside and behind her ear. “I don’t want anyone else to see what I see.”
She scoffs, hisses through her teeth in the way she does when you do something silly, which was often. “You’re just saying that because you’re the one that gets to fuck me, and you’re a selfish shit.”
“Maybe,” you answer, “but I don’t think the whole world needs to see the Sana that I see.”
She props her chin up on your chest. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks full and she looks like something someone drew for a manga.
“I don’t want to the world to see the girl that cries over cheesy slice-of-life animes,” you continue. “I don’t want them to know that you hate olives, or that you think Sailor Venus was the best sailor scout. I don’t want them to know what sound you make when you cum, or the way your forehead wrinkles when you’re thinking too hard.”
Her forehead wrinkles. You reach up and forcefully smooth the skin down, and she smiles.
“You’re a real sweet talker. But you’ve already got me naked and in your arms and I’m dripping your cum on the sheets. You can cut the sweet stuff.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
She kisses you, and her lips are soft and sweet in the way your words try to be.
“Let them see the mannequin,” you say, softly. “Let them see the idol, the model. They don’t need to see what’s beneath. They don’t deserve it.”
Her eyes are glassy, watery. “The important people deserve the real Sana,” you continue. “Save the real Sana for the girls. For your family and friends.”
You almost add ‘for me.’ Two simple words, and they’re right there, right there on the tip of your tongue and it would take just a slight rush of air, a small vibration of your vocal chords and they would be there, out in the open, between you and her - a declaration, a statement, a demand.
But the words don’t come. She’s here, in your arms, and her eyes tell you she’s waiting for them, but they don’t come.
The moment passes. She nuzzles back into your neck and you feel something moist hit your chest beneath her eyes.
“You’re too good to me,” she says, and it’s an accusation and a warning.
You ignore both.
---
You’re angry again when you wake up. Did you dream it all? It was all so vivid, so real, that it felt like you were inhabiting your past self for a few moments.
You can almost feel her warm body on top of yours, almost feel her tears on your chest.
But she’s gone, and you’re alone, and the past doesn’t matter anymore, because the past is past, and she’s still gone, and you’re still alone.
The glass still glitters on your carpet - traitorous, mocking shards of light.
---
She liked to dance. Half-naked. Drunk.
You’re in a hotel room somewhere in Europe, a ridiculously expensive one that had a nightly rate that probably approached half or more of your paycheque. You’re a few weeks removed from that quiet night together, when she confessed her discontent with how she was seen by the world. You’re also a few hours removed from when she was on stage, dancing and singing and looking for all the world like the perfect idol, the perfect model - performing for people that saw her as just that and nothing else.
You’d been ready to call it a night and head to sleep after a long day - concert days were always utterly exhausting - but Sana had called, and you’d heeded it. You always did. The other girls were busy, or off doing their own thing, she’d said, and she was bored and wanted someone to drink with.
You knew for a fact that the girls were either off with Pikachu and/or Buzz, or off having their own after-party at some bar in the city - and that Sana wasn’t invited to either. But you keep that to yourself.
She’s gorgeous, all perfect skin and long limbs and long, flowing hair that’s free and unbound, without hairclips or ties or the myriad of ridiculous sprays and products that her stylists use to have her hair fall just so.
She’s wearing a simple thong that does little to hide the curve of that cute little ass of hers - and a sports bra from that brand she hates, the one that presented her like she was a gym rat when in reality she hated even the idea of working out. It pushes her tits together and up, almost to her chin, the way she hates, but right now she doesn’t care. She’s too busy dancing.
She’s dancing to the group’s latest song, the one about having a strategy. It’s a choreography you’ve seen a hundred times, but not while she’s drunk and has a near-empty bottle of some local beer with a name you can’t pronounce in one hand, not while she’s in her underwear, and certainly not for an audience of one - yourself.
“Step four, got you on the floor
Make you say, “More, more, more!”
She sways and flails her arms around in a mockery of the actual choreography, before giving up altogether and taking a long swig from her bottle that drains it. She wipes her mouth clean with the back of a hand, before giving you a wicked smile.
The song continues in the background, playing in shrill, piercing notes from her phone, but all you hear are the words leaving her mouth - each slowed and slurred by alcohol. The drinks blur the sharp edges of the world, and make her more gorgeous than you’d ever seen her.
“Say it,” she says, the words leaving her mouth in a tipsy mumble. “Say the words.”
From the hotel room couch, you stare at her, puzzled and enraptured all at once.
“What words?”
“From the song. ‘More, more, more.’ Say it.”
You smile at her. She’s swaying - drunk, swaying, more beautiful than she was on stage mere hours before, when she was in front of thousands.
She gently tosses the empty bottle at you, which you catch. Her hands go to the hem of her sports bra.
“Say it,” she says playfully, the cutesy voice snapping back like a mask she’d slipped on - trying and failing to sound threatening, her silly smile and blushing cheeks betraying her futile attempt to seem so. “Say it, and I’ll strip for you.”
“Sana,” you say. “You’re drunk. I’m drunk.”
“Say it!” she says, her voice lower now, closer to a growl, but it’s playful, and not at all threatening.
You slouch on the couch, defeated. Your mouth opens. “More, more, more,” you say, out of tune.
The bra comes off. She pulls it over those small, round breasts of hers, over her head and her long, luxurious hair. She lets it dangle from her fingers, before she tosses it at your face.
Before you can even process it she’s on you - straddling you on the couch, hands in your hair, mouth crushing yours. Her lips are eager and hot and slick and you kiss her back, your tongue finding hers, your hands wrapping themselves around her body. Your fingers claw at her, dig at her soft, warm skin, squeezing a firm ass cheek, caressing the dip of her spine.
“You want me, don’t you?” she says, the words a harsh tumble, a breathy gasp between kisses. She’s kissing you hard, pressing your lips almost painfully against your teeth. “Say you want me,” she says - her tone a demand now, a low tone, a far cry from the cutesy tone of moments before.
“I want you, Sana,” you answer, the words coming from somewhere raw and primal inside you, a place of instinct and old desire.
She breaks the kiss. Her face hovers just a few inches from yours. Her cheeks are flush with the alcohol, but her eyes are clear - bright, shining, glimmering in a way that you’ve seen nowhere else in your life.
“You want me, right? Me. Me.”
“Yes,” you answer, on instinct. “Yes, Sana. You.”
She kisses you again. It’s rough and almost painful as her teeth graze your lips - but she soothes it with a swipe of her tongue. She captures your upper lip between both of hers and sucks. Your hands land on her ass and you squeeze each cheek, making her break the kiss to moan softly into your mouth.
You kiss a trail - down her cute little chin, down that slender, swan-like neck of hers, to her upper chest. Your tongue drags along her collarbone. Then you dip your head, find the tight, taut nipple atop her left breast, and latch onto it with your lips. You suckle.
She gasps. She swears. She writhes.
“Fuck,” she gasps into your ear, the word leaving her lips like a growl, sounding very much unlike the idol, very much unlike the mannequin that brands dress in their clothes and trot out in front of the cameras. “Fuck, it feels so good when you do that.”
Your tongue works its magic on her. Months of fucking this woman have shown you what to do, taught you how to wrest a gasp or moan from those sweet lips of hers. The tip of your tongue swirls around her nipple, first clockwise then counter-clockwise, pressure constant, maintaining suction with your lips.
She’s trembling now, her hands digging painful furrows into your scalp. She’s hot and drunk and bothered and she needs more, so you give it to her.
You switch to her right breast, lathering it with the same attention you gave her first. Your hand leaves her ass to squeeze her free breast, streaked now with your saliva. You capture her nipple between your index finger and thumb and give the tight bud a pinch. She moans and gasps. You grunt, deep and raw, against her nipple as she begins to gyrate atop your painfully hard cock, still trapped beneath your sweats.
“Ohh, you like that, do you?” she hisses in your ear, a question with an obvious answer - one that leaves your mouth in an involuntary groan.
“You like fucking me, don’t you? Love having the hottest, most popular girl in the group - in Korea - on your cock.”
“Fuck, Sana, just-”
“You love knowing the girl from the stage, the girl in all the ads, the girl on everyone’s phone - you love that she’s gonna ride your cock until you fill her with your cum, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sana. I do. Just fucking put it in-”
“What would the fans think? What would they say, if they found out their perfect angel from the MVs and variety shows and makeup ads loves begging for her fucktoy’s cock?”
“Sana-”
“-like a fucking dirty little whore.”
“You’re not, you’re not just a-”
“Say it, Woody,” she says, your pet name leaving her lips in a hot, sexy hiss directly into your ear. “Say it again, toy.”
She grinds on your cock - and you can feel her hot wetness, even through her soaked thong and your moistened sweats - from the base of your cock to its tip.
“More-” you hiss through your teeth. “-more, more.”
One hand grasps the back of your scalp, pulls your head backward so her eyes can look directly into yours. They’re dark, those eyes - half-lidded, dark, filled with something dark and dangerous.
There’s something else in them, too. Something that looks like insecurity. Something that looks like sadness.
The other hand reaches between you. They grasp the waistband of your sweats and pull them down, freeing your painfully stiff cock.
“Such a good little toy,” she spits. “Suck a nice cock for me to fuck myself on. A good fuck. That’s all you want, isn’t it? A good fuck. That’s all you ever wanted from me.”
Silence - for a split second. Something flickers in her eyes.
“Sana-”
She frees your sore scalp from her hand, uses it to reach between you and pull her flimsy little thong aside. With her other hand she guides your tip to her cunt and in that split second before she slides down your shaft you can feel the heat of her on your tip.
A drop of her juices drips from her lips and onto your shaft. She slides down your cock.
The breath leaves your lungs and hers. You’d had this woman probably hundreds of times in the last two years, and this moment never failed to take your breath away - or hers. You’d had her in every way imaginable, in every place, sometimes with other men or women sharing the experience. But you never tired of the excitement, the intensity, and the pleasure of this moment.
She doesn’t waste her time. Not tonight. Not when she was needy and full of your cock and more than a little drunk - on alcohol, on the adoration of her fans, on you.
She rides you. The alcohol lends her passion but takes her coordination in exchange, and she’s sloppy and her rhythm isn’t what it is when she’s sober. It’s rough and messy. Her pace falters, then quickens when she realizes she’s slacking, then slows again when your tip hits a particular spot inside her.
For a few moments you’re paralyzed by the sight and feel of her. She’s gorgeous and naked and sweaty and you watch as a drop of sweat makes its way down her neck and upper chest and onto your tongue, where you lick it off her slick skin. She’s hot and tight and wet. She’s moaning and sighing and gasping. She’s everything and it’s already almost two much, just a few minutes in.
Your hands tighten around her hips as they grind up and down on your lap, taking your cock in and out of her body with each movement. Her own hands brace herself on your shoulders. She’s sober enough to remember what you like. She’s lucid enough to remember that you loved it when she moved her hips in those small little circular motions - a motion that grinds her slick, taut clit against your crotch with each movement.
Those small, round breasts of hers sway in front of you, nipples taut. The sports bra she hated so much left sore red marks on her skin where they confined and shaped her torso into something it wasn’t. You bend and drag your tongue along the horizontal line beneath her breasts that its ribbing left behind. One of her hands grasps the back of your skull again, and pulls it towards her left breast. You suckle from her nipple again.
“Such a good fucking toy for me,” she says, the words leaving her lips in a messy, half-slurred tumble. Your mouth on her nipple draws a gasp from her throat before she continues. “You feel so big inside me, baby.”
You switch to her other breast, taking her nipple between your mouth and sucking hard. She moans in response. Her back arches, giving you more of her. Her pace quickens.
“Fuck, fuck,” she gasps. “Love your- ah - love your mouth on my tits.”
You want to respond, but couldn’t tear your lips away from her sweat-slick nipple long enough to say anything.
“They’re so small,” she says, softer now, a little quieter. “Not - oh, fuck, yeah right there - not as… as big without the bra. The fucking… the fucking fanboys want the big tits, though-”
That’s when your mouth leaves her. Your eyes find hers.
“You’re perfect-”
Your words are cut off when her hand finds your scalp again, nails digging deep into your scalp this time. She ceases her movements, leaving you hilt deep inside you. Her eyes find yours. They’re red and glassy - from the beer and the pleasure and something else. She’s angry and upset and somehow fragile, all at the same time.
“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps. “Shut up. Just shut up and fuck me.”
She releases your scalp. She resumes her pace. Your cock slides in and out of her slick, hot little cunt. You want to say something, want to stop, even - but she’s one of the most gorgeous women in the world, quite literally your dream girl, and that stupid, all-consuming, primal need for pleasure overcomes your concern for her wellbeing. The animal part of you wins. It often did.
You grasp her hips instead. That same animal part that renders you unable to think of anything else drives you, gives you that irresistible need to claim her, make her yours. You drive up with your hips as best you can despite your position and her weight on your lap, spearing your cock into her slick cunt, timing each thrust to meet the moment she grinds down on you.
She gasps, moans, screams at one point when you hit a spot inside her that makes her see stars. She whispers filth - about her body, about her ownership of you, about what you’re doing to her cunt.
But you hear none of it. You hear something else - something she’s not saying.
I’m lonely, she says. I’m afraid they love me for my body and for my face and not for my heart.
Her head, which had been thrown back after a particularly deep and throaty moan, bends forward to find yours. Her hair falls around her face, framing it in waves the color of chocolate. Her eyes look for and find and lock on to yours.
“Gonna… fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“Do it, Sana. Show me.”
“You want it, don’t you? Want this hot cunt to cum on your cock. Want this fucking whore from the ads to- to-”
“I want you, Sana-”
“Fuck, fuck, oh god, fuck!”
Her body surrenders to something deep and primal within her. Her torso locks up; her thighs quiver as they tighten as best they can around your hips; her spine arches as she throws her head back and lets a broken, throaty moan leave her spit-slick lips. Her cunt squeezes and pulsates around your cock, almost painfully.
It takes her a while to recover. She collapses into your arms, breathing heavily. She’s buried her face in your neck. You stroke her hair with one hand, trace the elegant line of her spine with the other. You feel a trickle of her juices slide down the base of your shaft and down your balls.
Eventually, she gathers herself. She brings her mouth to your ear, and with a voice that is a far cry from the cutesy, airy tone she uses in front of the cameras, she whispers.
“Your turn.”
You grasp her torso, press it to yours, and turn her onto her back on the couch. She lets out a soft little yelp, and her breasts give the most adorable little bounce. Her lips curl into a surprised smile. You smile back. You stay there for a second, on top of her, your cock still buried inside her and a drunk, silly smile on both of your faces. It’s short, fleeting, but it was there.
Then you start fucking her.
She gasps and moans and cries. The same mouth that was making cutesy noises and talking to her fans is swearing now, spilling filth and obscenities with each thrust you make into her tight little cunt.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck me harder, god, just fucking use me-”
Her pleas are cut short when you hook your arms under her knees and push them against her chest. She’s folded in half now, her legs near horizontal against her own chest. She’s defenseless. You start drilling her into the mattress. She can’t do much else than just take each hard, deep thrust - not that she would want to.
You fuck her so hard into the mattress that you’re grunting with each thrust, heavy exhalations of air with each movement, as though you were powering through a set at the gym. She’s quiet now - the voice fucked out of her - her mouth open in a frozen O, her eyes curling towards the back of her head. There’s only the hot, repeated slap of skin, the protests of the couch beneath the two of you, and the slick, wet sound of your cock slamming in and out of Minatozaki Sana’s tight little cunt.
“You like that, Sana?” you manage to spit through gritted teeth. “Like how I fuck you?”
“Y-yes-” she answers, just barely. Her fingers claw at your biceps, seeking something to ground herself amidst the assault your fucking is placing on her body. It’s almost too much, and her body screams at her to beg you to stop - but the thought doesn’t even enter her mind. Not when it’s too good, you’re too deep, and you’re pushing her closer and closer to-
“You’re so fucking tight, Sana,” you spit as you lean down to kiss her deeply. She moans into your mouth. You’re fucking her all the while. Her knees bounce up and down in your peripheral vision, and her feet dangle helplessly above your head. “So fucking tight. I love using this pussy. Love using you-”
You almost regret saying the words as they leave your mouth. It’s almost too much. It reduces her to something less than what she is. It reduces her to a toy. It makes her a-
“Yes! Fuck, fuck yes - ah, oh god - just use me. Use my body. Cum inside me, breed me, just fucking use me!”
You fuck her harder. Your cock pistons in and out of her body and you forget any semblance of care for her or her wellbeing, physical or mental. She’s just a cunt now, just a warm wet hole - one that’s tight and pulsating and squeezing around you and she’s hissing now, begging in your ear, begging to be used just as you currently are, begging to be bred and filled with cum-
“Fuck, Sana I’m cumming, gonna cum inside you-”
“Do it, yes, use me. Use this fucking body. Use this cunt. Cum inside it!”
You bury yourself inside her. Her legs are pressed almost flat against her torso as you drive as deep as you can inside her tight, grasping cunt. You let go, and you fill her with thick, warm cum - long ropes of semen that paint her cunt white.
“Oh fuck, there’s so much - I can feel it. So warm. So thick. You’re filling me up, breeding me, fuck-”
You bury your face into her neck. It takes a long time for your senses to return to a functional state. You breathe deeply. Every inhale carries her scent - sweat, sex, something sweet, something Sana.
You let her legs fall from your arms. She keeps them tight around your hips. You give her small, grinding thrusts with your softening cock as you push your cum as deep inside her as it can go. She lets small whimpers leave her throat with each movement you make. They’re light, airy sounds. Wordless, but passionate.
You eventually gather the strength to raise yourself from her neck. Her face is one you’ll never tire of seeing - blissful, blushed, fucked-out and satisfied.
But her eyes are glassy. They look fragile. There’s something there-
-and it’s gone. A mask - that of the sly, sexy vixen she likes to occasionally wear with you and a select few others - snaps into place.
“Fuck, that was good,” she says, a wicked smile curling her lips - one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You fuck me so good, baby.”
You bend to kiss her. She kisses you back, her lips saying things that her voice never could.
She thinks she has you fooled, thinks you can’t see the version of her that is soft and vulnerable and more than a little insecure with her belief that no one would want to see it. She thinks her masks are too thick, her walls too high, and that all the world wants from Minatozaki Sana is the pretty mask and the pristine wall - but she’s wrong, even if she doesn’t know it.
Tomorrow the two of you will get on a flight to the next tour stop, right along with her group members and the dozens of other crew that are needed for such productions. Tomorrow night she’ll sing and dance and laugh and smile at thousands of fans, and for just a few hours, mask in place, she’ll belong to them.
But the Sana behind the masks and the walls belongs only to you, only if she only appears from behind them for a few seconds at a time.
---
“They don’t know what it is,” your sister says on the phone - six words that no one around the world wants to hear, followed up by three more: “They’re running tests.”
“Jesus Christ,” you swear, running a hand through your hair, damp with sweat. You’re suddenly sick. You hold your hand over your mouth for a moment, as though you were keeping this morning’s breakfast in your stomach.
“She doesn’t… she doesn’t look well,” she continues. “She says she’s fine, tells me not to worry, but-”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“No, it’s fine. For now. You shouldn’t come until we know what it is. Where are you, anyway?”
Your sister knew little about your job - enough to know that you did “backstage work” for some k-pop group and were often travelling, but that was the extent of it.
“Barcelona,” you answer, but it’s irrelevant now. “I’ll… I’ll talk to my boss, get some time off and-”
Your sister says your name. She says it in the tone she uses when she wants you to listen to her - the same one your mother used when she wanted the same.
“It’s fine,” she says. “Really. I’ll let you know as soon as the doctors talk to me. Then you can come visit if you can. But there’s no use in you taking time off work just to come home and realize this is all appendicitis or something stupid like that.”
You let a sigh out through your nose.
“Alright,” you relent, watching as Pikachu and Buzz struggle with a particularly large container of the girls’ stage costumes and other gear. Buzz motions for you to help. “You’ll let me know the second you hear anything?”
“Of course. Take care of yourself, you dipshit.”
“You too, shitface.”
You end the call, tossing your phone into your pocket. You hustle over to the guys and help them with the container. It takes all three of you to successfully heave the large black travel container into the back of the waiting truck.
“Woody!”
Each of your heads snap to the venue door, where Sana has poked her head out. She waves frantically to you, motioning you over. She’d probably lost her phone or her airpods or her camera again and needed help finding it - or rather, needed someone to find it for her.
Pikachu gives you a tap on the shoulder as you turn to head back to Sana.
“Everything good, bud? Call looked serious.”
“Yeah,” you answer. “Nothing crazy. Just some stuff from back home.”
“Need help with anything?” Buzz asks, genuine. You glance over at the venue door. Sana is standing there with arms crossed, foot tapping.
“No, not right now. I’m good. It’s just my mom, she’s going through some health stuff. That was my sister… she said they don’t know what it is yet, but that they’re gonna run some tests-”
“Woody!” she calls, again, a little more impatient this time.
You give Pikachu and Buzz an apologetic look.
“Hope the pussy’s worth it, bro,” Buzz says with a sigh, before turning towards the rest of the containers that were awaiting loading. Pikachu shoots you an apologetic look of his own before joining him.
You hurry over to Sana.
---
A lesser man would have been more distracted. Or would a lesser man have been less distracted? It’s hard to say. Your moral compass had been somewhat warped by the last two years and the ridiculous rollercoaster of events you’d found yourself on.
Moral quandaries aside, you had to admit - you were a little distracted by the news from home, even given what was happening in front of you.
The hot, wet slap of your hips against Sana’s ass was steady and grounding, in a way, giving you something to latch on to amidst the swirl of emotions and worries and general catastrophizing going on in your head. The usual chorus of moans and sighs that accompanied the slap of your hips against her ass was muffled somewhat, replaced by the occasional wet, slick gurgle and gasp that managed to escape her lips past the thick shaft filling her mouth.
You and Pikachu fall into a familiar rhythm as you take Sana from both ends, spitroasting her at a pace that threaded the line between being too rough and being just right. It was far from the first time you’d taken Sana with someone and it spoke of her own familiarity and ease with the arrangement that she was currently taking you both without a hint of discomfort.
“Fuck, she’s so good at this,” Pikachu hisses between gritted teeth. His hand glides through the dark chocolate strands of Sana’s hair, grasping the back of her skull as he thrusts into her mouth. “So good at taking cocks. One of the best in the group at taking more than one, honestly.”
“Yeah,” you agree, after a moment. As much as it shamed you to say it, your mind was elsewhere, despite being balls deep inside one of the most gorgeous women on earth. “She’s… she’s such a good slut for us,” you manage.
The praise sends a shiver down Sana’s spine - and results in her cunt squeezing just a little tighter around your cock as it pumps in and out of her. She lets something like a moan out around Pikachu’s shaft and it wrests a groan of pleasure from his throat, too.
She lets his cock slip from between her lips.
“Fuck,” she hisses. Saliva and pre-cum drip from the corners of her mouth and down that tiny little chin of hers. She nuzzles Pikachu’s cock, slathering her own, spit onto her pretty cheek, making it glisten in the low light of the hotel room. She looks back over her shoulder at you, and the intensity in her eyes grasps your full attention for a moment. “Fuck, you like using me, don’t you, boys?”
A reply forms on your lips. You knew this dance well, knew that she liked being praised for being a dirty little fucktoy even as she’s used like one. But the words don’t come. Thankfully, Pikachu had no such hesitations, nor your preoccupations.
“Fuck yes, Sana,” he snaps. “You’re being such a good fucktoy for us. So good at taking both cocks at once.”
“Then keep fucking me,” Sana sighs, eyes locking onto his. “Fuck me until you both cum inside me.”
She slips his cock back into his mouth. All the while you’re been fucking her, sliding in and out of her tight little cunt. The spitroast continues. The bed protests, singing its own song of squeaking springs and a wobbly frame as it supports the rough movements of the three people atop it.
Sana moans and Pikachu groans and you do your best to fuck her, to keep your mind in the present, but it’s not. Your body responds, though, thankfully, even if your mind and heart didn’t.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” Pikachu spits. He grasps Sana’s head with both hands and his pace quickens. Sana lets a wet gurgle of a moan out of her throat even as Pikachu uses it.
The telltale pleasure at the base of your spine builds. “Me too,” you manage, and for a moment the pleasure is all that exists, all other worry momentarily forced out by the sheer satisfaction of watching this woman, this woman from all the screens and ads and concerts, being used by you and one of your best friends.
“Fuck!” Pikachu hisses, and suddenly he’s holding Sana’s scalp against his crotch as he fills her throat with cum - and the sight of it triggers your own, and your grasping her hips tight enough to leave bruises as you bury yourself inside her cunt and let go.
Sana’s hands fly to Pikachu’s hips, nails digging into his thighs as she’s filled with hot, thick cum from both ends. The sensation of it triggers her own orgasm, and for a few wonderful moments the three of you are locked in a pleasure so deep and all-consuming that it burns away anything else resembling a coherent thought.
Sana eventually wrests her head from Pikachu’s grasp, his slick cock slipping from between her lips. Some of his cum dribbles from her lips, but most of it is still in her mouth and the back of her throat, and you watch as she locks eyes with Pikachu before swallowing it all down.
You pull out of her, slowly, delighting in the sight of her well-fucked cunt quickly dripping your semen, appearing from her lips as a thick white mess before falling in heavy drops onto the ruined sheets.
Sana drops onto her side. Well-fucked, slick with sweat, chest heaving. Cum drips from her cunt and the corner of her mouth.
She locks eyes with you, but the look in her eyes is empty.
---
“You were distracted.”
She’s on her side, facing away from you, sheets drawn up to her chest - something she only did when she was upset with you. Everything about it was an accusation. You reach out and trace an idle pattern on her shoulder. Pikachu had left soon after the fucking had ended, mumbling something about catching up with Chaeyoung, leaving the two of you alone in a Barcelona hotel room that felt heavy with something unsaid.
“I wasn’t,” you lie. “I was just…”
“Just what?”
“Just… I don’t know. I’m tired. Been a long day.”
She finally turns her head to look at you. Brow furrowed, and eyebrows curled in a look of disbelief. She doesn’t say anything, just holds your eyes for a second before turning back to her side.
“Sure,” she says. “Whatever.”
“Sana-”
“You’ve been somewhere else since before the concert tonight,” she says.
It’s quiet for a moment. It was true; your sister’s call and your mother’s condition had been at the very top of your mind, even throughout the entirety of the concert and the post-concert sex that usually followed each event.
“I… just some stuff from back home,” you admit. “I might need to take some time away.”
Even with her back turned, the effect of your words is obvious. She tenses up, curls a little more into her pillow.
“Then go. Leave.”
Her words hit you with a little more force than you were ready for.
“Sana, you don’t understand. I don’t want to leave, it’s just-”
“Just what?” she says, turning onto her back. The sheet slips from her chest, leaving her breasts bare - but she doesn’t move to cover herself. “Now that you’ve fucked me all over the world you don’t need me anymore, is that it?”
“That’s not what I said, Sana.”
“It’s what you want to say,” she says. She turns onto her side again. “Go. Leave. I’ll tell the other managers you quit.”
The word upsets you - the idea that you would willingly leave this life is so ridiculous to you that it takes you a few moments to gather the words for a response.
“Sana, I’m not going to quit. I just need some time away, that’s all.”
“Whatever,” she says. “I can always find another man. Pick another toy out of the next fucking crowd.”
Her words hit hard, cause a lump of something unpleasant to form in your chest.
“Sana, please. You’re being unreasonable.”
“It’s fine. Go, leave. Quit. I’m used to being alone.”
“Alone? You have the girls-”
Sana lets out an indignant breath through her nose. “Please. They all hate me.”
“What?”
“They all hate me,” she repeats. “They barely want to work with me. You must know it by now. All that OT9, friends forever bullshit. Just a fucking act.”
“But … Momo and Mina? Your unit-”
“They hate me the most,” she answers, voice soft and vulnerable in a way you’d never heard it. “They all do. They think I’m some spoiled, attention-seeking brat. Nayeon tolerates me, and that’s because I do what she wants. You’re the only one that-... the only one who-”
She stops herself. She curls a little more into the side of the bed, as though she were protecting herself.
Silence reigns. She was right - the past few years of working with the girls had made it clear that the closeness they showed in front of the camera had been a well-orchestrated act, a perfectly-crafted mask, one put in place by the label to sell albums on the idea of a tight-knit, unbreakable bond between the girls. In truth they were like any other group of people - some got along, some didn’t, some were loved and some were hated.
You want to tell her about the call from your sister. You want to tell her about your mother. But you can’t, because you never could tell Minatozaki Sana the truth. From the moment she extended her hand and pointed at you at that concert two years ago her wish had been your command, and the very thought of upsetting her was anathema to you. The guys and some of the girls had teased you about it - about how you were more whipped than the others, more slave than fucktoy.
The truth was Sana had changed your life two years ago at that concert, and through her you’d been able to experience things that you could’ve never imagined in your wildest dreams - the sex, the travel, the money. The others saw it as slavish devotion, but in truth it was thankfulness. If being at her every beck and call was what you had to do to express even a modicum of the thankfulness she deserved for the life she had given you, then you did it gladly.
Some days, you thought that what you were feeling was something akin to love, and you deluded yourself into thinking that perhaps the great Minatozaki Sana might share in your feelings. You saw it sometimes in the way she nuzzled into your neck after sex, the way she smiled at you as she passed by you in a concert venue, the way she told you things she’d never tell the others - not even the girls. You spent most of your days together. Somedays, your face was the only familiar one she saw. You knew her better than you’d known anyone else in your life.
Your life revolved around her. She was at the center of it all. She was everything. She was, in many ways, the most important person in your world.
Your family was the only thing more important.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” you say, because it’s all you can say in that moment.
“No, you won’t,” Sana says. “You’re going to leave me. You’ve spent two years fucking the idol, making her your whore, and you don’t need her anymore.”
“Sana-”
“Leave,” she says, in a way that brooks no argument, even if her voice begins to waver. “Leave. Quit your position, or I’ll tell the managers to fire you. Either way, you’re done with us. With the company. With me.”
She doesn’t turn to face you. Not even when you leave the room.
---
The next week is a blur. The very next day you got a call from someone at the JYP head office, informing you your contract with the company had been terminated at the request of someone in the group. You were on a plane back home the day after that.
Pikachu and Buzz did their best to intervene, but in this company the word of the girls was law. The second Sana expressed a desire to get rid of you, the company moved quickly. Before the week was out the whirlwind of the last two years had suddenly and painfully drawn to a close, and you found yourself back home in an apartment that felt very little like home.
---
The month that followed seemed surreal - in the way that normal life seems when you’d spent the last two years living a high that you still weren’t sure was actually real.
But spending too many hours next to a hospital bed had made everything depressingly, soberingly real.
Sana had spared the time to drop by your home city on her way back to Seoul from the final show in Europe. It was on the way, she’d said, and she had some other business in the city to attend to. Probably some appearance at a fashion show, or some brand hiring her to put on their jewelry or dress and look pretty for a few hours. You had no idea. You weren’t privy to her schedule, not any more.
And so she dropped by, broke your heart in a coffee shop, and left.
Clips from the girls’ European finale concert in London stream on your phone, its tinny speakers and tiny screen a far cry from the deep thump of the music, the rush of coordination between managers and makeup artists and stylists and backup dancers and the rest of the small army it took to put on a show.
You should have been there. You should have been running around with Pikachu to ensure Dahyun’s piano was on stage in the right place in time for her solo. Jihyo always needed reassurance that her mic was in working order and you were one of the few people she trusted enough with her equipment. Jeongyeon had a silly habit of throwing her cowboy hat into the pit between the stage and the crowd with each solo performance, and the task had fallen to you to retrieve it every night.
But you weren’t there, in London, in a packed arena amidst thousands of fans. You were in your home city, next to a hospital bed. You watch on your phone as Sana begins her solo.
She was so far away.
---
Few things in your life could measure to the relief that came when the doctor gave you and your sister your mother’s diagnosis. Her condition could be easily managed with medication, and after some recovery while her body got used to the drugs, her quality of life would be near where it was before her hospital stay. You could almost feel the giant, oppressive weight being lifted from the shoulders of you and your sister, and while you often bickered and fought the way siblings do, you’d both spent a few minutes hugging in the room after the doctor had left.
You’re getting ready for your mother’s discharge from the hospital when you and your sister approach the nursing station to inquire about the bill.
“Your mother’s good to go,” said the nurse, a middle aged woman with kind but tired eyes.
Your sister gives you a look before turning back to the nurse. “Right, so, uh, should we expect the bill in the mail? Or-”
The nurse gives a sigh as she hits a few keys on her keyboard. Something flashes up on the screen.
“No, you’re settled up.”
You stand there in silence for a while.
“I don’t understand,” you say. The nurse gives another tired sigh, not bothering to look up at either you or your sister. Her mind was clearly already on her next patient.
“Your bill’s been paid,” she states, with a tone that one uses when they want to end a conversation. She gets up off her chair, gathers a clipboard, and leaves the nursing station - off to help another patient. “Make sure you don’t leave anything behind in that room. Have a good day, dears.”
---
“Things are good,” Pikachu says between sips of his beer. “And yeah, things are… good with her.”
“That’s awesome, bro. I’m happy for you two.”
“Yeah,” Pikachu says, a small smile perking up the corners of his mouth. “I still have to pinch myself sometimes. The Son Chaeyoung? Wild. I’m living a fucking Tumblr fanfic.”
You raise your own beer in a toast. He taps his against yours and you both take a long sip.
“Bro,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “Now that I’m out of it… I… I hope you figure things out between Chaeyoung and the girls.”
Since you’d left the company, Pikachu had been candid in sharing Chaeyoung’s issues with the rest of the group, Nayeon in particular. The last conversation you’d had with Sana about her tense relationship with the girls was still fresh in your mind, and the last thing you wanted to see was Pikachu getting caught in the group’s internal conflicts.
He sucks air through his teeth. “Yeah,” he admits, “shit’s not great between her and the rest of the group. They all have their little rivalries, their little squabbles. Some more serious than others. The other managers and the company haven't picked up on it yet, but it’s there. They hate each other. Some of them do, anyway. You know how girls are.”
“Yeah,” you agree, taking a long sip from your beer. “I do. But you should know - it goes deeper than you think. Nayeon’s sneaky. I’d watch out for that one. Same with Momo and Mina. They… have ulterior motives, I think. I… might have overheard things about them plotting to break you two up.”
Pikachu doesn’t seem surprised, which is both surprising and worrying. “That doesn’t surprise me. I… I’m going to work through it with Chaeyoung. Hopefully find a way that doesn’t involve the group imploding.”
“Good, good. How’s Buzz?”
Pikachu sighs, steering his gaze out the window of the bar and onto the streets of Hongdae. “He’s… he’s alright. He’s filming his drama, so I don’t see him as often as I used to. He’s good, otherwise. Just busy.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Yeah… anything to distract himself from her, I guess.”
You didn’t need to be told anything further. You wished you’d been there to comfort Buzz the way he’d been there to help you while you dealt with your mother’s hospital stay.
“We need to hang out before I head back home,” you say. “The three of us. I’m here until the end of the week.”
It hadn’t been that long since you’d last been in Seoul - really only two months had passed since you’d left for the European leg of the girls’ tour that had seen Sana get you fired from the company - but it already felt like a homecoming of sorts. With your mother doing much better, you’d finally had the time to head back to gather your things from the Seoul apartment the company had set you up in while you worked for the girls. Pikachu and Buzz had been helpful in getting your stuff packed and in the mail to be sent back home.
She hadn’t contacted you, despite Pikachu and Buzz telling her you were in town. No calls. Not even a text.
“For sure, bro,” Pikachu says. “Maybe we invite some of the girls? You know Jeongyeon’s always down for a drink. Tzuyu’s birthday’s coming up, and you know how wild she gets after a few. Dahyun, maybe? I’ll bring Chaeyoung... I think the other girls might be busy, though…”
No mention of her, though. Pikachu catches on to what you’re thinking.
“Hey man, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and her,” he continues. “She was… she is… she’s a bit of a handful. The things Chaeyoung’s told me about her…”
“Honestly,” you begin, “it’s good that she ended things with me when she did. It forced me to go back to my family. If she hadn’t gotten me fired I would’ve stayed. My mom’s okay now, but it was touch and go there for a little bit. If I hadn’t gone home, and if something shitty happened and I missed it… I never would’ve forgiven myself.”
“It all works out, I guess,” Pikachu says, but his eyes are on his bottle of beer, his fingers picking away at the label, thoughtful.
“Thankfully, the company paid for the hospital bill.”
Pikachu’s eyes shoot up to yours, and his brow furrows. “What?”
“The company. JYP. They paid for my mom’s hospital bill. It was a pretty hefty one too, considering all the tests they ran and the treatment plan they have for her. I’m dropping by the building later to thank the big guy himself, personally.”
Pikachu stares at you for a long moment, before a look of disbelief washes across his features.
“Bro, there’s no way the company’s gonna pay for some random staff member’s family hospital bill. JYP’s not a bad dude, but we’re supposed to be the girls’ secrets, remember? There’s no way JYP would pay for your mom’s hospital bill and risk having it linked back to the girls or the company - let alone go all the way over to your hometown to pay it. How would they even know what hospital your mom was at, anyway?”
“Then who… You? Buzz? You were in Europe with the girls. No one else knew about my mom. Who would-”
The two of you stare at each other for a while. Realization dawns.
The smallest of smiles appears on Pikachu’s lips as he takes another sip of his beer.
---
Just as coming back to Seoul felt like a homecoming of sorts, so too did going to the concert feel like slipping back into a life you thought you’d left behind.
The boom of the music, the staff members and security hustling around in the background and beneath the 360 stage, carrying mics and bottled water and discarded cowboy hats - it all felt intensely familiar.
But you were in the crowd, not behind the barriers. There was no earpiece in your ear with the head manager telling you to fetch a new flat of water, or to find Momo’s mic, or get in place to set up Tzuyu’s bars for her solo performance. There was just the boom of the bass and the shouts and screams of the fans next to you - fans that had no idea that the man next to them had, just a few months ago, lived a life that they would have killed to experience with the girls they were paying to see.
Pikachu had been a real bro and set you up with VIP tickets for the pit, just a few feet from the stage. And there she is - right there, her back turned as the central stage covering rises and the concert begins to thunderous applause. She hasn’t seen you yet.
It doesn’t take long. It happens right at the end of the first song, when the group formation brings her in front of you.
Minatozaki Sana sees you. Her eyes lock onto yours - the same way they did two years ago, when she smiled and pointed at you and quite literally picked you out of the crowd. Her eyes widen in surprise - and then soften. Seconds pass. Her eyes are glassy.
You smile at her. She smiles back. She raises her hand - slowly, tentatively, and points at you.
She picks you again.
---
Author’s Note: That song’s been in my head for years now and I knew I had to write a story around it. And Sana is Sana, so…
…honestly, I probably fumbled a couple of the details with the ongoing Toy storyline. That’s what happens when you go a literal year and a half between entries. I’ve been thinking about wrapping up the story and I think I’ll do that in the next couple of chapters, just so people finally get some closure on this. See you in 2030 for the eventual Toy finale ;)
Thank you all for your ongoing support, despite my now bi-annual fic drops. Kazuha fic still in the works, and maybe more Ryujin.
Be excellent to yourselves and to each other. The world needs it. <3
~Le Sserafim's Yunjin (x Male Reader), 5.5 k words, Smut, Angst
Read it on Fanprose
A/N:
Based on one of my favourite songs, less of you by Keshi.
Thank you to @erospandemos for ideating with me all those months back!
Also, for some reason every time I write Yunjin IT TURNS OUT LIKE THIS. No spoilers.
"Where are you?"
"I'm out."
"Out where?"
"What does it matter, Yunjin. You're out all the time."
The line stays silent, and you can almost see the way her face contorts into hurt at your words.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." You lean on the brick wall of the alleyway, cool night air blowing away cigarette smoke.
"I'm not out. I'm working."
"I know, baby. I'm proud of you." The words are empty; it's not that you don't mean them, it's just they've been said time and time again. Like the weight of the words has been slowly leaking, drifting into the air.
"I'm coming back next month." Maybe you were wrong about how her face contorted. Maybe it wasn't even hurt. Maybe it was that despondent sort of apathy that came with being disappointed one too many times. Maybe she didn't even make a face, just listened to the words and felt nothing. "We're delaying the European leg. Just for a bit. I'll have a week to chill in Seoul."
Maybe you don't feel anything either. Maybe you're used to it all, the routine, the calling, the : "hey, baby how was the show? You looked great up there, can't wait to see you again". Maybe you're used to being alone, connected by a landline to someone who was equally alone, except for the whole world screaming their name.
"I don't even," you pause, and no, you do feel something. You feel it all.
"You don't even what?" she asks, and you don't know if it's despondence, hurt or anxiety, the way you get anxious over whether a couple words will tear your apart.
"I don't even remember what you look like sometimes."
You imagine she's hurt.
---
She doesn't call you the next 3 weeks. You've stopped watching all the fancams, stopped keeping up with all the interviews. It's too much, to see Yunjin smile when all you want to do is scream.
It's a tad dramatic, but just by a bit. You've gotten used to it. You can sprawl on the bed, stay out late. You never have to say no to the invites. It's all just a distraction, all some misdirection so you don't have to stare at that burning red fire in your heart that says you're lost without her, though.
You're leaning on the wall of the bar again, long drag of the cigarette wafting when you call her. Your friends are probably looking for you, but that's alright.
"Hi."
"You awake?"
"Mmhm."
"I just… wanted to hear your voice." It's weird, to admit it. It's weird that it's weird. You've known her for a decade, been dating for half of that, but your voice still comes out all hoarse.
"I'm here."
"I checked on your mom yesterday. She misses New Yo—"
"I know. She called me last night."
The answer is short and testy. You get it. She's busy, hell, you are too. But at least you're here. You curse your line of thinking because this has always been Yunjin's dream. But still, it's enough for you to recoil and say: "Do you think it's better if we just, cut things loose?"
You hear the static through the phone, and it's like you're hearing the thousands of miles between you two, the month long trips, the after practice phone calls where she's tired and can't talk long, the good morning texts you forget to respond to.
You don't know why you said it. You know that it's just going to put more weight on the two of you, you know it's not what you want, it's not even what she wants. Maybe you just said it so you could hear something, some semblance of emotion in her voice.
It works. Her voice is strained and choked when she says "I don't know how to do this without you."
It's not fair. She's been operating without you the whole time. She says it like the weekly i believe in u texts you stopped sending a month ago were the only things that held her together, like you were her engine, or whatever the cliche was. "Then tell me what to do," you pleaded.
She's crying now, and so are you, outside a bar in Seoul while heaps and heaps of fans wait for her shows. The cigarette helps a little.
"Wait for me."
---
Is it bad to say you were nervous to see her? Is it bad that after nearly a year, you were scared? Honestly, you're glad she asked you not to go to the airport. There would be too many cameras there anyway.
Something in your soul shifts, you swear it, the moment you see her, the moment she steps out of the company car, with a face mask covering the face you can't remember. It's almost better that way, adds to the anticipation. Yeah, you're anticipating now, can't wait to see her, can't wait to hold her and tell her you're sorry and that you don't know how to do this without her either.
She's barely out of the car when she rushes to you, and she feels like home and honey and smells like she always does, like nuts and figs, and you do tell her, a crying mess you say: "I missed you so much".
"I'm such a mess, I need a shower," she laughs into your chest.
It's dangerous, you hugging this A-list celebrity outside an apartment in Seoul, but neither of you care. "I'm sorry for everything," you cry. "I just missed you."
You feel her smile into you. "I missed you too. He's looking, isn't he?"
You look to the company driver, scolding you with his glare. She's still working, she always is wherever eyes can see. "He is," you laugh.
"We should go up."
"Yeah, but you're comfy."
"C'mon, we can snuggle all night."
"You haven't moved either," you point out.
"Yeah, 'cause you're comfy."
"That's what I said. I thought it was time to go."
Yunjin loosens up a little, just enough so her face isn't glued to your chest and looks up to you. She looks at you, wanting and happy, but also tired and searching, like: yeah, this is all nice, but what about the past year? What about all the distance, all the dejection. It's gone in a flash. She pulls her mask down.
"Now do you remember what I look like?"
You lean in, and she closes the gap in a second. It's red hot fire, just like her hair, which is blonde now but it still feels the same, like flames in your hands as you run your fingers through it. She tastes different. She tastes the same.
Ahem.
You're forced up to the apartment, bowing a low apology to the company driver.
It's better this way. She showers, and you finally get to see the real her, the one you know, the one you fell in love with, not all glammed up for the cameras but raw and real and beautiful and just for you. You hold her the whole night, let her talk your ear off about the tour, about Eunchae and the girls, about New York and home, about how she wishes they'd add a Toronto stop so she could see your home, about how she's so fucking sorry if you felt like you were being ignored. And you tell her no, that you should be sorry and that you missed her so much. About how you were cranky because really, truly you don't know how to do this without her but everything is okay now, because she's in your arms and she feels like Toronto, and you tell her this until she falls asleep in your arms and you fall asleep in hers.
---
You wake up on the couch, same position you fell asleep in and the sun shines through the window. Maybe it's the light or the plants you replaced because you let the old ones die, or just Yunjin clinging onto you, eyes still closed and soft, but the whole place looks a little brighter, feels a little more like home.
You kiss her on the forehead. She stirs in that same way she always does, keeping her eyes closed but tensing her body in an almighty stretch.
"Mmmm," she groans, and then she wakes up with her eyes and they're already locked on yours.
You stay there for a moment, just watching each other, before you kiss her. You kiss her because she's home and she's yours.
"Ew, I just woke up," she says, lazily bringing a hand up to your face. "Kiss me after I brush my teeth."
You kiss her again, with tongue, just to prove a point. "I've waited long enough. "
"You're disgusting," she laughs, but she kisses you back.
It's just pecks at first, but it devolves into something more. Something better.
After nearly a year, nothing could hold you back now. Your breathing grows more erratic as your tongue climbs deeper into her, your body warms as she shifts so you're no longer holding her, but shes straddling you right on the couch.
The kiss says everything you said last night and more, the i'm sorry's and the i missed you's. You sit up, because just laying there while she's on top of you wouldn't be grand enough for your return. You need to press every inch of your body into her, every fabric of your being, feel her breasts, the warmth of her sex on your lap so that even when she goes on tour and leaves you again, you'll have imprinted your love on her and she on you. Maybe that way you'd feel less empty without her.
Your hands are in her hair, softly, lovingly, and you try pushing her down so you can love her harder, but she's pushing back against you until you're just two people pushing against each other after a thousand years of distance.
It'd be impossible to stay there, lest you suffocate and die in her lips, which doesn't seem so bad, but she pulls away before you let it happen.
"I need you inside me again."
Again, she says, like it's recurring, scheduled, automatic like she didn't just go a year without it. Or maybe she meant it like: it's been so long, I've been waiting for this for so long.
Yeah, that makes more sense, but it doesn't matter much now. What does matter is how she claws your back, whispers through the kisses for you to take it off.
Your hands slide to her front, lifting the oversized shirt she loves to steal from you up.
Your shirts are off in a second. You don't close the gap, you just sit there in awe, looking at her shirtless form, her messy hair cascading down her head, the sharpness of her collarbone, her perfect breasts, nipples pointed at you like they missed you.
"I'm dating Huh Yunjin," you say out of breath, disbelief lining the air.
Huh Yunjin smiles a bit, just a curve, a hint, some acknowledgement before she escalates things with: "Huh Yunjin wants you to fuck her silly. Like, a year's worth of fuck."
You used to worship those lips, not only because of how plump they fucking are, glossy and generous, but because they know exactly what to say to drive you nuts. Over the phone, that meant something else, but here, it means if she says she wants you to fuck her, then you're going to fuck her.
So: you do. All nastily you jump on her, hands on her breasts, kneading as you kiss her lips, down to her neck, sucking and pecking. Her head is thrown back and it's like the first time you met Yunjin, the excitement of it all. She's calling your name, screaming it as you work your tongue down to her chest.
You're feral for Huh Yunjin. Your tongue dances around her, finding her nipples, flicking and flicking until her back arches and her hands are in your hair, asking for more.
"Don't stop, don't fucking stop," she groans all haughtily. "Keep on going!"
The melody of it all spurs you on. A hand slips away from her breast, climbing lower, infiltrating those old pajama pants with ease.
It's so fucking humid in there which only turns you on more. Her panties are soaked, and you can't choose between keeping your mouth latched onto her nipple or switching focus to her cunt.
"I'm gonna taste you, baby," you decide, and all she can do is moan in response. You trace a finger over her pussy, still clothed with the wet garment, all slow and teasing before you bring it to your mouth. She's staring at you needily, and you her when you take the finger and lick it, lick all her moistness and slick. She shudders at the sight.
"H-how do I taste?"
Actually, your cock is throbbing in your pants because of how good she tastes, the perfect amount of sweetness and musk of a girl, your girl unfucked for a year. "So fucking good," you admit, thrusting your hand back down her pants.
She shakes when you trace the finger again over her clothed folds, bringing it up to her lips.
"Taste it, baby."
She opens her mouth, tongue lolling out as she laps the sticky stuff , all stringy in its viscosity.
"Holy fuck, you're so fucking hot."
"Come here," she begs, her own cunt juice lining her tongue.
You jump in, kissing her, tongues dancing, sliding her juices all around.
It's mixing with your saliva to make this truly heavenly concoction, it's making you drunk. Your tongues are fighting, her body is arching into you, your cock is so damn hard you don't know how you haven't cum already.
You're sucking each other in, the taste of her cunt juice grows mellow and you just need more. You need a years worth of it, and when you finally do release your mouth from hers to kiss down her body again, it's like a vacuum the way she gasps for air.
You kiss down to her belly, hooking her pants and dragging it off, exposing her folds. It's like gold, like Christmas in that you've been waiting a whole fucking year for it, like her first performance, like her voice the first time she sang for you.
She's so fucking wet it's insane.
You've barely brought your tongue closer, barely inched when she shudders, even at just the feeling of your breath on her.
"F—"
You jump in before she can react, your tongue lapping up every drop of her warmth. She's squirming. You don't let up. She deserves every little bit of pleasure she's getting from this for leaving you alone, for showing the world more of her than she showed you.
"Je— holy shit, it's so fucking good," she groans.
Her pussy convulses around your tongue, leaking even more of her slick all over your face, and you wear it like war paint. You bring a hand to her twitching clit, rubbing it softly.
She grabs your hair, bounds of it, pulling and pulling until her cunt squeezes and she cums, hands holding you so she can't cum anywhere but your face.
She pulls you up, face still squinting in bliss.
"I told you to fuck me," she huffs.
You can already feel your balls welling up— it's been a year after all. Just the thought of it, the idea of finally being able to do what you've been craving hits you.
You move slowly, taking her hands in yours as you line up with her sopping sex. You swear you've never been harder, the head of your cock throbbing and swelling, and it barely brushes against her pussy when you groan, squeeze her hands harder in focus.
She feels so good on the tip of your cock, it's throbbing right there at her entrance.
"B-baby."
You push in, and it's warmth, it's the fucking Sun and your nutrients and you realize this is it, this is why you've been so lost without her, because her pussy is your map, the only thing that makes sense.
She's squeezing your hands so tight her knuckles are white. She's tighter than you remember, walls closing in on you as you push further with a squelch. It's so fucking sticky, how your cock is thrusting into her.
You collapse onto her, still thrusting in before she takes all of you. You're bottomed out, laying on top of her as she whispers into your ear how she missed this, how she dreamed of you fucking her while she fingered herself in those lonely hotel rooms.
You pull back now, still slow, before you go back in. Your pace is quickening, soon you can even hear that lewd little smack of your balls, even over your shared grunts.
She's holding onto you for dear life, arms wrapped around you like she might lose you, and you pump and pump and pump to tell her, I'm not fucking going anywhere 'cause you're here.
It's so fucking risky, her being an idol and all, but her legs are wrapping around you and she's tightening, begging you, telling you where to cum. And you cum right there inside of her, spilling every little bit of hot load physically possible, the well of bliss climbing up your spine and releasing as pure love into her, spilling and spilling as she too cums. And at the end, you're just two huffing messes reunited, laying on the couch covered in cum and cum.
You fuck each other like this the whole day.
---
"Hey, my friends are going out tomorrow night. You think they'll be mad I didn't get them anything while I was on tour?"
"Tomorrow?" You don't mean it.
"Yeah," she says slowly.
"You're going out tomorrow?" You definitely don't mean it. But you still said it. Said it like: hey, I haven't seen you in a year. And you're going out with your friends tomorrow?
Her eyes find you. "That okay?", but really: Yeah. Did you think you were the only one I missed?
"Of course baby, have fun." Do you mean it? You don't know.
She plops a relieved head onto your shoulder, wrapping her arms around you. "I'll tell them you said hi."
Hey, listen, it's not like the whole week goes like this. You may be an angsty mess after the distance, but you're not a heartless monster.
It's great, actually. Forgetting what it's like to live alone, it's as great as falling in love again.
You can't believe you're admitting it, but the vanity in your washroom, now full with products upon products is the prettiest thing you've ever seen. Other than her, of course.
And the way she shoves you, hip first out of the way when you're cooking, all that's not how you do it, here, let me show you before she takes the chopsticks out of your hands and adds god knows what into your recipes.
It puts a smile on your face so big you don't even complaining that no actually, my way tastes way better.
It's even the most endearing thing in the world when you've already fallen asleep and she's still up, just laying there watching whatever it is she's watching, when she laughs. Not a cute little puppy laugh, but a full on guffaw. It wakes you, and you look around, asking what happened? what's wrong? is everything alright? and she covers her mouth, looking apologetic and telling you to go back to sleep, sorry for waking you. You don't, you stay up, watching with her, teasing her that her fans are wrong, she can laugh at home.
And of course, you fuck her like she's yours. What it would be like for this to last forever.
---
"3 days," you say lazily one night, eating her favourite takeout food on the couch, watching her favourite TV show, It Was Only a Week. "You're gonna be gone again in 3 days."
You love this couch, the version of it while she's still here. It's full of sweaters, the throw blanket is all bundled up, it's not clear of everything, unused like it usually is. You love this version of the house, and it'll be gone again in days.
She puts her head on your shoulder, sombre. "I'll be back," she says.
"For a while. And then you'll be gone again."
She tenses, just a bit. It's been a good couple of days. The best, but still, you're running away from things. "Is this too hard?"
Her head is still on your shoulder, betraying the strain in her voice, the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Did you— did you really mean it when you asked?" she says.
"Asked what," you say, quiet, afraid of the answer.
"If it would be better if we cut things loose?"
"I need you, Yunjin." You're both just staring at the TV screen, bodies too afraid to react. It's like you're minds are still on the phone, still apart while you just sit there, huddled together like everything is okay.
"But is that okay? Is it okay that we need each other so badly? I'm never gonna stop touring! Not for a long time. This isn't— there's no end to this. Not for a while."
You shift on the couch, break the illusion. "I—"
"I love you," she cuts you off. "I really do, I just want us to be okay."
"I love you too, Yunjin, I didn—"
"Good," she cuts you off again, as if she didn't raise the topic, as if she didn't flick whatever switch it was that brought her back to a thousand miles away. You think of pushing through, of telling her how you feel, but she kisses you again and she's back in front of you, looking so stunning and beautiful and real, not just an image on a screen, not just a voice on a landline.
You lean further into her.
She just came crashing back into your life after the distance, after you were used to living without her, and she came with a bang, a fierce crash the blew everything right into its rightful place. You don't care if it's toxic, if the lack of communication will only hurt, you're just happy she's really here to kiss you.
---
"Okay, and what about your mom, she'll want to come?"
"Yes, yes, I think Kkura and Eunchae are busy, but Chaewon and Zuha will be there!"
"Nice."
"Ew, you better not be watching Chaewon fancams while I'm gone," Yunjin slaps you on the arm.
"Catering is taken care of, venue is set, everything is ready for tomorrow. Congrats baby."
"Congrats? Why congrats?"
"I don't know, I just felt like saying it."
She laughs way too hard. It's really not all that funny, but you're going to miss that laugh. "I'm sorry we're spending my last day here having another going away party."
You reach a hand out to her and she grabs it, ushered into your chest by your pull. "That's okay. I can have you at night, though, right?"
"Mmm, I don't know. I have to be at the airport at like, 4 am."
"Then I guess, tonight I can have you?"
"I'm all yours."
Okay, you lied. She does look so fucking stunning all glammed up like this. It's a different kind beauty than the soft beauty you get to see everyday. It's big, it's grand, it lights up the room and doesn't let you look away.
It's just a couple of people, her friends, family, a couple of her group mates, but she wears the weight of being seen like a pro. The simile is weird, she is one. She's the best, takes the gravity out of a room, shatters the constitutions of anyone looking at her.
Especially yours. You're zipping the back of her dress up when her eyes find yours in the mirror.
Talk about weak Constitution, you stop what you're doing when you feel the weight of her gaze on you.
"So," she says.
"So," you repeat.
"This is it." She spins around, giving you a full view of her perfect face.
Your eyes are locked, unblinking. "What do you mean, this is it. We still have a whole party."
"Yeah, but, that's different. This is our last 'us' moment."
"I… I guess so."
She's so close you can feel her breath.
"We have to leave in… 20 minutes?" she says, voice all high, missing the innocent intonation of a simple statement.
"Then I guess we better finish getting ready."
"Then why are you looking at my lips?" Remember before, when you said she always knows exactly what to say to drive you nuts? Yeah.
"I-I'm not."
Her hands climb up to your lapels as she leans closer, stands on her toes so that she's right in front of you.
"Hmm, okay. I must've been seeing things, then."
Your tongue is in her mouth as soon as the last breath of the sentence tickles your lips, and she's kissing back, because yeah, you were looking at those plump fucking lips, all glossed up for the world and you just wanna let the world know: these are my fucking lips.
You can tell that this is the idol, the version of her that can stand in front of thousands with a smile on her face, because she's so much more assertive. You're at her every whim; she pushes you against the wall, palms on your chest as you're lost in her lips.
"You love these lips, don't you?"
It's rhetorical, it doesn't need an answer. You do anyway, saying yes in moans and groans as she drops to her knees, puckering them just to argue the point.
She's still in that dress, hugging her figure snug.
She doesn't stop looking at you, gives her lips a little lick as she slides your pants down.
She grabs it. The sensation ripples through your body, and with a couple of pumps and a kiss on the tip, she takes it, still half flaccid into her portly lips.
"Shi—nngh," you groan. It's indescribable, how hot it is. She always liked this, taking you before you were fully hard, said she liked the feeling of it growing in her mouth.
Of course, you're fully hard pretty soon. The groan that escapes her lips as your cock throbs in her mouth, you could listen to it all day. It's the best music she's ever produced, which is saying something given her discography.
Her lips are wrapped around your cock, tighter than the dress is her body, which she doesn't like, apparently. All slow and seductive, she glides her lips up your cock until it pops out of your mouth.
The dress you were helping her put on comes off, and she's just sitting there with only her panties. She's so fucking hot, how she loves to get on her knees and be your whore.
Her tongue comes out, opening wide, eyes needy when she says: "fuck my face, please".
Her hair is all done up and curled, better that way, you can get a better grip on it. She's moaning and gasping, begging you to stick your cock back in while you bunch her hair up, grabbing it.
Don't be fooled, she has you right where she wants you; this is still the Yunjin that has you at her every whim. It's all the more hot because this is exactly where she wants you, standing over her, fucking her face in the bathroom.
The suction does nothing to help your stability, her gags, the feeling of the back of her throat, the way her makeup she spent so much time on is smudged, it all leaves you woozy as you pound her throat.
She's taking you deep, so deep you can feel her sexy little throat convulse with every thrust, her eyes are a teary mess but she's looking at you with vigour, like if you stop and this whole things ends before you cum down her she'll leave for her tour and never come back.
The pressure in your pelvis wells up, and with an almighty thrust, hands full of her hair so her lips kiss your pelvis, you cum. Her eyes are closed shut as she stomachs the load, taking every last drop of it. It's in waves and waves, every time she swallows, convulses her sweet little throat it only draws more of your seed.
Only when every last drop of the stuff is in her stomach does she push against your legs, unburrowing your cock. She doesn't even stop there, your arms are dangling lifelessly at your side now, but she's still on her knees, grabbing your still swollen cock, licking up the underside, kissing the tip with these loving pecks, shifting it up so she can access your balls, sucking on them.
"Y-Yunjin, we should go. The party, it's about to star—"
She cuts you off with just a look, and it says everything. She stands up, grabbing you by the arm, stepping over her discarded dress, dragging you to the bed.
You fall down on your back, and there's a conviction in her eye that you don't need to hear to interpret. You know what it means anyway, that I don't give a fuck about the party. I won't see you again for another 2 months and I need you now.
You're back at full mast now, because you realize it too, that you don't care about the party either, that you'd rather be here, fucked dry before she's gone again. She lines up on top of you, sliding her panties to the side.
You've been fucking all week, but it's equally as weighted. The connection, the weight, it shifts from I missed you so much, baby, to I'm gonna miss you so much, just stay a little longer.
You're whole, you're complete, you're full when she's bouncing on your cock, when her pussy clenches around you leaving you a writhing mess.
You've seen her hips move on stage, seen how it steals all the gravity in arena, and now you're experiencing it real time, how her wet pussy slides up on you, hugging you tightly in all the right places.
Her hands are roaming your now bare chest as yours rest on her hips. Her face is still a mess of make up and mascara and lust.
You start to buck up, match her pace when she tightens, cumming on your cock. Both your phones have been ringing in the distance, maybe you don't hear it over her screams, maybe you both ignore it, choosing this over everything, just for one more day.
You fuck her from the back, grunting and thrusting, cumming and cumming until the sheets are a mess of her juices, of your jizz.
You fuck her standing up, her back against your wardrobe as you buck into her and she's moaning into your lips, how she'll cum and cum and cum while she's away, fingering herself while thinking about today.
She fucks you while the sun sets, filling the room with its golden light, like your bed is the stage.
You fuck each other until you're both a haze of sweat and cum and saliva, heaping messes of lust, splayed out in the moonlight, gasping for breath but unable to stop holding each other.
You fuck each other until you're asleep.
You don't dream.
She's gone in the morning. She let you sleep this dreamless sleep, perfectly content. And now she's gone. There's no in between, no solace that exists between the pain of her being away and the blindness when she's here.
She's gone. Probably in a rush too. The bed feels so empty, even though its covered in her love. You can see through the peep in the washroom door that the vast amounts of skincare and makeup sit there, untouched. She'll buy more somewhere abroad.
You don't want to check your phone. She's probably on the plane right now, sleeping, recovering from the night you just had. She'll have to be up the next day for practice, shake off the rust accumulated over the week. You don't want to see if she's texted you, maybe some heartfelt thing about how she'll be back, how you'll both make it through this, or maybe your phone is desolate, maybe she's already reverted back to the limelight, focused on her job and nothing else.
The worst part is, either option would hurt just as much, and you can't be mad at her for any of it. It's her dream, it's her soul, it's distinctly her, Huh Yunjin, the girl you fell in love with.
But Huh Yunjin is gone, again.
It ends just like that, with no resolution, no long talk about what you need to do to make this work. It's easier than that, it's either she's here, or she's not.
And right now, she's not.
---
A/N: IDK WHY I MADE IT WAS ONLY A WEEK AGAIN. I DIDNT REALIZE UNTIL LIKE 10 MINUTES AGO THAT EVERYTINE I WRITE YUNJIN THEY ONLY HAVE A WEEK TOGETHER. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??????
NOTE: My FINAL work for this year and…. forever lol. Hope yall enjoy my short return.
For my Fanprose account, this is the 30th smut entry of my Smutrathon Special, replacing Hanni's "The Green Underworld" while here in Tumblr, this is just a quick smut one-shot work without being included to any anthology or series of mine.
This is based btw to that deleted TWICE smut I've read from Wattpad which I actually really liked.
DESCRIPTION: Driven by a fierce desire to win a scout competition's rank upgrade and a bonus tropical vacation prize, Jihyo uses a seductive sales menu to tempt a lonely married man into buying out her entire inventory in exchange for her exclusive sexual services he would find impossible to resist.
WORD COUNT: 3527
=== START ===
The late afternoon sun was baking the asphalt of your quiet suburban neighborhood, waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Jihyo barely noticed the stifling humidity. Her posture was rigid, her knuckles white where she gripped the aluminum handle of her heavy plastic wagon.
Her intense, dark eyes were locked onto the digital leaderboard glowing on her smartphone screen, which was clipped neatly to the top of a wooden clipboard.
Her name was currently sitting in second place.
For the average college student, a volunteer drive for a community organization was just a bullet point to pad a resume. But Jihyo wasn’t average. She didn't enter competitions to place; she entered them to dominate. This afternoon, the regional council had upped the stakes entirely, sending out an emergency broadcast to all members: the scout who brought in the single highest sales volume by midnight would be granted an immediate rank promotion to regional coordinator, alongside a fully sponsored, two-week luxury vacation to a tropical resort.
Jihyo could already feel the cool ocean breeze and taste the cocktails, but a rival scout from the neighboring chapter was currently fifty boxes ahead of her, stubbornly holding the top spot.
Her fierce, unyielding competitive streak didn’t just flame; it roared into an absolute wildfire. She looked down at her inventory. The wagon was loaded to the brim with premium, organization-branded goods: artisanal cookie boxes, heavy containers of organic rolled-oat cereal, and glass bottles of fresh, chilled whole milk from the valley dairy drive.
Traditional door-to-door pitches, polite smiles, and asking for neighborly charity weren't going to bridge a fifty-box deficit in a single evening. If she wanted that tropical beach, she needed a radical, completely unorthodox strategy.
Stopping under the shade of a large oak tree on the sidewalk, Jihyo took a deep breath and smoothed down her uniform. The pleated green skirt was already tailored a little shorter than regulation, hugging the tight curve of her thighs. With a steady hand and a calculating smile, she reached up and deliberately unbuttoned the top two buttons of her crisp white collared shirt. She shrugged the fabric back slightly, exposing the smooth, sun-kissed line of her collarbone and the soft, inviting swell of her breasts.
She knew exactly what her most devastating, darkest secret asset was: she possessed an intoxicating, magnetic allure that men found impossible to resist, and she was entirely prepared to weaponize it.
Her eyes swept across the manicured lawns of the cul-de-sac, landing directly on your well-maintained two-story home. Just moments prior, she had watched from a distance as a woman—your wife—loaded a large rolling suitcase into the trunk of her car, exchanged a brief wave toward the front door, and drove away out of the neighborhood. Jihyo glanced toward your driveway. Your sedan was still parked under the carport.
You were home. Completely alone.
Jihyo’s lips curled into a sharp, victorious smile as her resolve hardened. She gripped the wagon handle and began wheeling her heavy cargo up your concrete driveway, ready to present an offer that no red-blooded man could ever turn down.
Inside the house, you let out a heavy, exhausted sigh, rubbing the stiff muscles at the back of your neck. Your wife had just left for a three-day weekend professional conference out of town, and she had left you with a dauntingly long list of household chores, grocery runs, and repair tasks to tackle in her absence. The quiet of the house was almost absolute, broken only by the low hum of the air conditioning.
Suddenly, the sharp chime of the front doorbell echoed through the entryway.
Groaning slightly, you stood up from the couch and made your way to the foyer. You weren't expecting any deliveries, and you certainly weren't in the mood for neighborhood small talk. You unlocked the deadbolt and swung the heavy wooden door open, expecting a mail carrier.
Instead, your eyes locked onto a stunning, ethereal college student standing on your welcome mat. She was breathtaking. She had a bright, dazzling smile, large, expressive eyes that seemed to read you instantly, and a green scout sash draped diagonally across a uniform that was doing absolutely nothing to hide her incredible busty figure.
"Hi there! Good afternoon," Jihyo said, her voice dropping into a sweet, perfectly practiced, melodic rhythm. "I'm Jihyo, and I'm representing the local college scout chapter. We're running our final annual drive to fund our youth community projects. Would you be interested in supporting our cause today?"
You leaned your forearm against the edge of the doorframe, offering her a polite but tired smile, trying your best to keep your eyes firmly on her face rather than the deep, distracting plunge of her unbuttoned shirt. "Oh, wow. Uniform and everything. Look, Jihyo, I appreciate the hustle and it's a great cause, but my wife usually handles all of our grocery shopping and pantry stocking. We're actually pretty set on snacks right now."
"I see," Jihyo murmured, her smile shifting from wholesome fundraiser to something far more predatory and intoxicating. She took a deliberate step forward, crossing your threshold and closing the distance between you until you could smell the faint scent of vanilla and sweat on her skin. The innocent scout demeanor completely evaporated, replaced by a heavy, unblinking gaze that locked tightly onto yours. "But you see, I offer a very special, highly exclusive tier of customer service for my premium buyers."
You blinked, your throat tightening as the atmosphere in the hallway suddenly shifted from a mundane neighborhood interaction to something thick with tension. "Customer service?"
Jihyo let her heavy clipboard rest against the curve of her hip, tilting her head to the side as she tracked your reaction. "I am an incredibly competitive girl. I absolutely must win this sales drive by tonight. And because I'm determined, I'm willing to make a very private bargain. A special menu, if you will… customized just for you, especially while your house is so nice and quiet."
Your breath hitched sharply in your chest. Your mind raced, suddenly acutely aware of the empty house behind you and the quiet street behind her. You looked past her shoulder toward the empty driveway, then back to the intense, burning desire radiating from the girl standing right in your doorway. "What kind of menu are we talking about?"
Jihyo leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a sultry, confidential whisper that sent a violent shiver of anticipation straight down your spine.
"It's very simple," she purred, her eyes scanning your face. "Buy one box of our premium cookies, and I'll give you a blowjob right here on your knees in the hallway. Buy a box of our organic cereal, and you get to return the favor—oral sex for me, until I am completely satisfied. Buy a bottle of our fresh milk, and you get a chance to take your time, opening my shirt wide open to suck and play with my breasts. And if you decide to hoard the entire wagon? You get to keep me here, having sex with me as much as you can handle for the rest of the afternoon."
Your throat went completely dry, your heart hammering like a trapped bird against your ribs. It was utterly insane. It was a complete betrayal of your marital vows. But looking at Jihyo—the perfect, full curve of her pink lips, the way her short skirt hugged the flare of her hips, and the absolute, unadulterated confidence radiating from her—the temptation was a physical weight crushing your resolve. Your wife wouldn't be back until later in evening. The neighbors were indoors. No one would ever know.
"One box of cookies," you croaked, your voice thick and completely rough with sudden, undeniable arousal. "To start."
Jihyo’s smile widened into a beautiful, victorious grin. She had you hooked. "A wonderful choice, sir. That will be fifteen dollars."
You reached into your back pocket with trembling fingers, pulling out your wallet and throwing a twenty-dollar bill at her, not even caring about the change. Jihyo stepped fully into your house, reaching back to close the heavy wooden door with a solid, definitive click, effectively shutting out the rest of the world and locking the two of you in a private haven.
She set her clipboard down on your entryway table and unbuckled her scout sash, letting it slide carelessly to the hardwood floor. Without a single hint of hesitation or shyness, she dropped down onto her knees directly in front of you.
You stood transfixed, your breath shallow as Jihyo reached up with both hands, her warm, deft fingers undoing your belt buckle. She slipped the leather strap free, unbuttoned your pants, and lowered your zipper with agonizing slowness. The moment her fingers slipped inside your underwear and freed your fully hardened, aching cock into the cool air of the hallway, you let out a low, ragged groan, your hands instinctively hovering over her shoulders.
Jihyo looked up at you through her thick lashes, a playful, wicked spark of dominance in her eyes, before she leaned forward. Her warm lips parted, tasting the very tip of you first. She swirled her wet tongue slowly around the sensitive crown, listening to the way your thighs trembled under her touch. Then, with a smooth, deliberate motion, she slid her mouth all the way down your shaft.
The sensation was absolutely electric. She used one hand to firmly grip and caress the base of your length, pushing it deeper into her throat while her mouth worked with a rhythmic, suffocating heat. You gripped her shoulders tightly, your knuckles turning white as you stared down at this stunning college scout giving you the most incredible, intense oral pleasure you had ever experienced. She sucked tightly, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm, intentionally making wet, messy, uninhibited sounds that echoed loudly off the walls of your quiet hallway.
Just as you felt the intense pressure building in your lower stomach, reaching the absolute point of no return, Jihyo expertly and suddenly pulled back. She swiped a thumb across her glistening lower lip, looking up at your dazed, panting expression with a smug, beautiful smirk.
"That was just the appetizer," she purred smoothly, standing up and gracefully smoothing down the pleats of her green skirt. "What’s next on the menu?"
You were completely breathless, your chest heaving as your body screamed for the completion she had just cruelly denied you. You couldn't let her leave like this. "The cereal. And the milk. Both of them."
"A very healthy breakfast choice," Jihyo teased, her voice dripping with playful mockery. "That will be twenty dollars."
You blindly reached for your wallet again, your hands shaking as you pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and tossed them onto the entryway table next to her clipboard.
Jihyo smiled, taking you firmly by the hand and leading you away from the front door, deeper into the privacy of your living room. Instead of heading for the couch, she walked straight over to your sturdy wooden dining table. With an agile, effortless movement, she hopped up onto the polished edge, pulling her green skirt all the way up to her waist.
Your eyes widened. She wasn't wearing traditional undergarments; instead, a tiny pair of sheer lace panties met your gaze, barely covering her soft, manicured center. She slid them slowly down the length of her long, toned legs, tossing them carelessly onto a nearby chair, before parting her thighs wide open for you.
"Your turn to please me," she whispered, her eyes dark with rising heat.
You didn't need to be told twice. Driven by pure instinct, you dropped to your knees between her parted legs, burying your face directly into her dripping cunt.
Jihyo gasped sharply, her fingers immediately locking tightly into your hair as your tongue found her highly sensitive, swollen core. She tasted incredibly sweet, and she was already deeply slick with her own arousal. You stroked her with long, wet, purposeful laps of your tongue, listening to the breathless, high-pitched whimpers that began to escape her throat.
Her hips began to buck helplessly against your face as you accelerated the pace, your tongue mimicking the hard, localized friction she so desperately craved. Jihyo’s toes curled tightly, her inner thighs clamping around the sides of your head as a sudden, violently intense orgasm rocked through her entire body. She arched her back off the table, letting out a loud, completely uninhibited cry of pure pleasure that echoed off your high ceilings.
As her frantic breathing gradually began to slow, she looked down at you, her chest heaving heavily. With a sultry, inviting grin, she reached up to the remaining buttons of her white shirt, popping them open one by one until the fabric fell away, revealing a lace black bra. She reached between her breasts, unclipping the front clasp and letting her full, heavy, perky breasts swing free into the open air. Her nipples were completely taut, caramel, and flushed from the aftershocks of her climax.
"The milk," she reminded you, her voice a breathless, demanding whisper. “It’ll taste better with the cereal, you should try.”
You leaned up from your knees, wrapping your arms around her waist as you threw a handful of cereal oats to your mouth before you took one turgid, aching nipple entirely into your mouth. You sucked greedily, swirling your tongue hard around the sensitive, bumpy areola as you felt her milk filling your cereal-filled mouth while your free hands cupped, lifted, and heavily kneaded the soft, responsive flesh of her other breast spilling some of her sweet dairy in between your fingers.
"You're right, it's way more delicious." Jihyo whimpered loudly, leaning back on her hands on the table, completely surrendering to the sensation. She guided the back of your head, groaning deeply as you bit gently at the very tips of her nipples, sending frantic sparks of electricity straight back down to her core.
But you were reaching your absolute breaking point. You were fully erect, throbbing, and this agonizingly slow teasing was driving your mind into a frenzy. You pulled your mouth away from her breast, swallowed the breastmilked-flavored cereal before looking up at her with dark, primal, unchecked desire.
"The whole wagon," you said, your voice a raspy, commanding growl that left no room for negotiation. "Fuck it. I want every single thing you have brought. How much for everything?"
Jihyo’s eyes flashed with an absolute, dazzling spark of triumph. She had broken you completely; she had you exactly where she wanted you. "For the rest of the stock? A hundred dollars. And I’m entirely yours for the rest of the afternoon."
You didn't even hesitate for a microsecond. You stood up, walking over to the large decorative ceramic bowl on your kitchen counter where you always kept an emergency stash of household cash. You reached in and pulled out a thick, crisp stack of hundred-dollar bills. Marching back over to the dining table, you pressed the cold cash directly into her open palm.
Jihyo counted the five bills with lightning-fast precision, a genuine thrill of victory running down her spine. The competition was definitively hers. The rank was hers. The tropical vacation was hers.
She carelessly tossed the money onto the clipboard on the entryway table and turned back to you, wrapping her long legs tightly around your waist, pulling her slick, dripping core flush against your aching pants. "Then let's not waste another second."
You lifted her sexy, voluptuous frame up off the table with ease, carrying her over to your large, plush leather living room sofa. You laid her down against the cushions, hovering directly over her as you aligned your aching length with her heat. The moment you guided yourself in and pushed deep inside her, Jihyo let out a sharp, ragged gasp, her eyes widening at the sheer fullness of yourcock stretching her open.
The rest of the afternoon dissolved into a complete, chaotic blur of raw, sweaty heat and intense physical friction. You moved with a desperate, hungry, unbridled pace, fueled by the highly forbidden nature of the act and Jihyo's intoxicating, uninhibited energy.
Jihyo met you stroke for stroke, her manicured nails clawing desperate red lines down your back, her voice filling your empty, hollow house with loud, unvarnished moans of pure pleasure.
You changed positions frantically, pounding her in the center of the living room as both continuously search for deeper satisfaction. You flipped her over, sitting back as she climbed on top of you, controlling the depth, looking down at you like a dominant goddess claiming her rightful prize.
Then, you rolled her onto her hands and knees, driving into her heavily from behind, reaching forward to pull her hair gently to tilt her head back so you could help her watch her expressions and her tits being mashed by your other hand in the living room mirror.
The sofa was then fully occupied with your bodies stacked together, hers aligned in reverse to yours as you ate each other out for a classic 69, then Jihyo sat at your lap, plunging deep into her again as you bounced her rotated naked body onto your cock in reverse cowgirl.
You both rode the waves of intense, breathless pleasure over and over again, completely losing all track of time as the bright afternoon sun slowly dipped below the horizon, casting long, dramatic golden shadows across the room. Finally, with one last, desperate, deeply penetrating surge, you cried out at your last orgasm, your entire body seizing up as you collapsed against her damp back, completely filling here with your cum as you spent every last drop of your energy, thoroughly exhausted and deeply satisfied.
An hour later, the sharp click of your front door opening and shutting broke the silence of the house.
Jihyo stepped out onto your concrete front porch, looking completely immaculate and put together once more like as if nothing chaotic just happened. Her green uniform skirt was neatly straightened, her white shirt was perfectly buttoned up to the collar, her sash was aligned, and her long hair was tied back up into a neat, professional ponytail, although with some strand sticking out due to the aggressiveness of your tugging earlier.
The only difference now was the incredibly heavy envelope of cash tucked securely inside her scout canvas bag, and the completely empty plastic wagon sitting idly on your sidewalk.
Inside the house, you lay stretched out flat on your back across the sofa, thoroughly satisfied, physically drained, and staring blankly up at the ceiling with a lazy, content smile plastered across your face. You had a living room full of unwanted cookie boxes and organic cereal to frantically hide before your wife’s return in a few days, but in that exact moment, you didn't care in the slightest. It had been worth every single dollar in that bowl.
"Call me if you'd like to buy again. I'll be your personal retailer from now on. Thanks again for these, daddy." You pushed the contact card she gave you just before she left your household into your pocket.
Jihyo pulled her empty wagon down your concrete driveway, the plastic wheels clicking rhythmically and loudly against the seams. She pulled out her phone, checking the digital leaderboard one last time as she typed in her massive, newly acquired sales totals.
The graph updated instantaneously, shooting her name straight past her rival by an insurmountable margin, solidifying a dominant lead that no one could possibly hope to catch up to before the midnight deadline.
She smiled broadly to herself, basking in the fading warmth of the evening sun. She had won her rank promotion, she had won her dream vacation, and she had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a true scout always knows exactly how to utilize her resources to get exactly what she wants.
A/N: this one was originally posted on Fanprose under Reunion: Double Date, Double Trouble
I spotted her by the perfume counter, testing some scents on her wrist with this little tilt of her head. There was something about the way she moved like she was someone i recognize. Then she turned, and for a second, I thought I was seeing double.
"Chaeyoung?" I Blinked.
She froze, eyes going wide, before that familiar slow smile spread across her face. "Chaeyoung? No fucking way."
Jiwon, who'd been browsing sunglasses nearby, glanced between us. "You know each other?"
"We have the same name," the other Chaeyoung laughed.. "We’re both Lee Chaeyoung."
Right then, this guy in a tight black shirt slid up behind her, arm looping around her waist like he owned the place. He had that effortless swagger of someone used to attention. When he caught sight of Jiwon, his eyebrows shot up. "Park Jiwon?"
Jiwon stiffened, just barely. "Kyunghwan?."
The air between felt heavy, but Kyunghwan just grinned. "Small world." He turned to me, hand outstretched. "You must be the other Chaeyoung."
The other Chaeyoung, Chaeng, like she'd made everyone call her in college bounced on her toes. "We should all grab dinner. A Double date."
Jiwon hesitated, but I nodded before he could say no. Something about this whole thing felt like it was a setup. "Yeah, let's go," I said, catching the way Kyunghwan's fingers tightened slightly on Chaeng's hip. She didn't seem to notice, as she’s already pulling up restaurant options on her phone.
We ended up at this Korean BBQ spot, the kind with the fancy vents so you didn’t leave smelling like grilled meat. Kyunghwan took over right away, ordering soju and a bunch of cuts without asking anyone. "You still like pork belly?" he asked Jiwon, who just nodded. The way they moved around each other was weird, too familiar but too stiff, like two guys who used to be close but weren’t anymore.
Chaeng kicked me under the table, grinning. "Remember our tiny dorm? You hogged the mirror every morning." She mimed me fixing my hair, tossing her own dramatically, and I rolled my eyes. "Says the girl who dated that basketball player just because she heard he has a big dick." The soju showed up then, and Kyunghwan poured shots like he’d done it a thousand times, sliding one to Jiwon first.
As the meat cooked, the conversation split, Chaeng and I laughing over stupid college stories while the guys talked low, saying things without really saying them. At one point, Jiwon reached over to adjust my glasses, his fingers brushing my temple, and Kyunghwan smirked. "Still fixing people's vision, huh?" Jiwon didn’t bite, just wiped his hands on a napkin. "Someone has to." The tension was thick, but Chaeng either didn’t notice or didn’t care, leaning over to steal a piece of meat off my plate with her chopsticks. "Mine now," she sang, and just like that, the moment shattered.
Three bottles deep and the world got all soft around them. Kyunghwan had his arm slung over Chaeng's chair, fingers tapping idly against her shoulder while Jiwon, shockingly actually loosened his tie. now he was laughing at Kyunghwan's bullshit story about some bar fight that definitely didn’t happened. "Bullshit" Jiwon snorted into his drink. Kyunghwan just flashed that sharp grin of his. They fist bumped across the table like idiots while Chaeng clapped like it was the best thing she'd ever seen.
The liquor made her bold. Chaeng leaned into Kyunghwan, whispering something that made him smirk before turning to me. "Hey, remember that time we got wasted and tried climbing into the boys' dorm?" Heat shot up my face, I'd tried to forget that mess. Jiwon's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. "You what now?!" Chaeng cackled. “We got caught halfway up the fire escape." Kyunghwan looked weirdly impressed. "Damn, Chaeng. Didn't peg you as a rule-breaker." She winked. "You don't know half of it."
Jiwon nudges my foot under the table. "You never told me that," he said, expression unreadable. I shrugged, grinning. "You never asked." Something shifted between us, less careful now, more... alive. Kyunghwan poured another round, slopping liquor everywhere, and Jiwon didn't even blink. Just raised his glass. "To coincidence." We clinked. Chaeng's fingers brushed mine just a second too long, her eyes sparkling. "To us," she added, and the way she said it made me wonder if she meant something bigger than just the four of us sitting there.
By the fifth bottle, Chaeng was a giggly mess slumped against Kyunghwan, tracing nonsense patterns on his leg. He didn't seem to care, just watched her with that lazy smirk. "Think we broke them," Jiwon muttered, nodding at Chaeng as she attempted stacking empty soju bottles like some drunk Jenga. They crashed down and she dissolved into laughter. Kyunghwan ruffled her hair. "Cute." That word stuck in my ribs sharp and warm all at once.
Somehow we made it to the parking lot. Jiwon, weirdly steady, dug out his keys while Kyunghwan hauled Chaeng along as she mumbled about the AC’s being "too damn loud." I swayed, my feet not quite cooperating, and Jiwon caught me. "Got you," he murmured, and whether it was the booze or his touch, electricity shot through me. Kyunghwan dumped Chaeng into the backseat like a ragdoll. When he turned to help me, Jiwon shook his head. "I got her." There was something in his voice, possessive, maybe and Kyunghwan just smirked and let it go.
The car smelled like leather and just a touch of Air Freshener. Chaeng was sprawled across the backseat, her head drooping against the window like she was half-asleep, until suddenly she wasn't. She sat up too fast, swayed, and then her hands were on my face. The kiss was messy, tasted like soju, and landed more on the corner of my mouth than anything. I didn't even have time to react before I heard Kyunghwan suck in a sharp breath from the front seat. "Fuck," he muttered. Jiwon's grip on the steering wheel went white-knuckled. "Yeah," he agreed, voice tight. Chaeng just giggled, slumped against my shoulder, mumbled "Missed you," and then promptly passed out. The silence in the car was so thick you could choke on it. Kyunghwan twisted around to stare at us, grinning like an asshole. "Well, That just happened." he said.
Chaeng woke up again as we pulled into Jiwon's apartment complex. The elevator ride was awkward as hell, Kyunghwan leaned against the mirrored wall like he owned it, Chaeng hanging off his arm like some drunk squirrel. Then she blinked at me, suddenly way too alert for someone who'd been unconscious five minutes ago. "We should have a sleepover," she announced, and before anyone could stop her, she'd pecked Kyunghwan right on the lips. Quick, playful, Then she lunged at me, peppering my face and neck with sloppy kisses while whining "Isa, you're so cute" into my shoulder. Jiwon cleared his throat, jaw clenched, while Kyunghwan just laughed and hauled her upright as the elevator dinged. "Down, girl," he said, like he was talking to an overexcited puppy.
Jiwon's apartment smelled like clean laundry and the faint scent of air freshener. Kyunghwan whistled, taking in the neat, barely-lived-in space. "Nice place," he said. Jiwon ignored him, steering me toward the couch except Chaeng collapsed onto it first, limbs everywhere, and before I could even sit down she'd rolled onto me, face buried in my tummy. "You're warm," she mumbled, like that explained anything. Kyunghwan watched, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Jiwon tossed a blanket over us, his hand lingered on my shoulder a second too long. "Stay," he said, quiet but firm. It wasn't a request.
Chaeng's breathing evened out against my chest. Kyunghwan hovered by the coffee table, flipping a loose soju cap between his fingers. "So, We just... leave them like this?" he said, glancing at Jiwon. Jiwon rubbed his temple like he was fighting a headache. "For now." Kyunghwan smirked, slow and knowing. "Interesting." The word hung between them, loaded. Meanwhile, Chaeng's fingers found mine under the blanket and tangled tight. I didn't pull away.
Then she moved. Suddenly Chaeng was pushing herself up, face flushed, lips parted. She grabbed my hands, too fast, too rough, and pressed them to her own cheeks before kissing my hands. Once. Twice. Her tongue flicked out against my skin, tasting me. "I want you tonight, Lee Chaeyoung," she murmured, voice thick with soju and something hotter. My breath caught. Kyunghwan made a low noise in his throat; Jiwon's hands curled into fists. Chaeng didn't wait for an answer, her hands were already under my shirt, nails scraping lightly over my sides before yanking it off. The air was cool on my bare skin, but her stare was scorching. "Boys just watch for a bit, okay?" she said, not even looking at them, already working the button of my jeans. Kyunghwan chuckled, dark and approving. Jiwon didn't move, didn't speak, but his breathing had gone shallow.
I should've stopped her. Could've, easily. But then her mouth crashed into mine again, all heat and teeth and no patience, and any sane thought just... evaporated. Her hands were everywhere, shoving my jeans down, gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks. Behind us, Kyunghwan shifted, his stupid expensive jacket creaking. "Fuck," he grunted, sounding wrecked already. Chaeng pulled back just enough to smirk at him over my shoulder. "Told you," she panted before biting my lip hard enough to sting.
Jiwon let out this sharp breath. "Isa—" Chaeng shut him up with one look. "Later," she muttered, yanking me down onto the couch. The couch scratched my bare back, her body pinning me under her. When her thigh pressed between my legs, I arched up without thinking. Kyunghwan's laugh came out choked. "Holy Fuck." Chaeng didn't slow down just dragged her lips down my neck while her fingers slipped lower, teasing through fabric.
The whole place smelled like sweat and alcohol and something sharper, something desperate. I turned my head just enough to see Jiwon still standing there, gripping the armrest so tight. Kyunghwan wasn't smirking anymore just staring where Chaeng's hand disappeared between my thighs. "Keep watching," she murmured against my shoulder, right before her fingers found me through my panties. I gasped. Nobody moved. Not them. Not me.
Chaeng traced slow circles over the damp fabric, her breath catching when she felt how wet I was. "Fuck, Isa," she groaned, pressing harder. My hips jerked against her hand before I could stop them. Next thing I knew, my legs gave way, then her palm slid under my panties, fingers slick between my legs. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. "You're such a fucking brat, Lee Chaeyoung," she breathed. Seconds later, my underwear were tangled around my ankles like I'd never needed them anyway.
Cold air hit bare skin for half a heartbeat before Chaeng's mouth was on me hot, relentless. I cried out, fists twisting in her hair as her tongue dragged over me, slow then fast. Somewhere past the blood pounding in my ears, Kyunghwan made this broken noise. "Fuck that’s hot." Jiwon sounded like he'd been punched when he finally spoke. "Chaeng—" She didn't lift her head, just hummed against me, the vibration shooting straight to my spine. "Mmm. Better than i remembered."
One second Chaeng's mouth was on me, the next her fingers were inside me without warning, two sliding deep while her thumb worked little circles on my clits that made my whole body jerk. The couch scratched against my shoulders as I arched up, gripping the cushions like they'd save me. Chaeng watched me come undone through heavy-lidded eyes, her other hand teasing my nipple through my bra. "Let them watch," she whispered, and that's when I noticed Jiwon frozen by the doorway, jaw clenched so tight I could see his muscle ticking. Kyunghwan had inched closer, one hand shoved in his jeans pocket, the other on the back of the couch like he needed something to hold onto.
Then Chaeng crooked her fingers just right and fuck. I came so hard I saw stars, her name a gasp against her mouth as she kissed me messy and deep. When my vision cleared, Kyunghwan was staring at us like he wanted to eat us alive. Jiwon still hadn't moved. "My turn," he ground out, voice rough as hell. Chaeng laughed against my throat, all teeth. "Guess we're just getting started."
Jiwon crossed the room in three strides, shoving past Chaeng without a glance. His hands burned against my waist as he yanked me up against him. My legs locked around his hips on instinct, the hard line of his dick pressing through his pants. His breath was ragged against my mouth, lips hovering just out of reach. "Look at you," he muttered, thumb dragging over my lips. "You’re a mess." His eyes were black with want. I dug my nails into his shoulders and arched closer. "Then fix me," I breathed, and he crashed his mouth down on mine.
The kiss was pure possession, tongue, teeth, the sharp tang of soju on his lips. He walked us backward blind until my back hit the wall, pinning me there with his hips. Behind us, Chaeng let out a laugh. "Damn, Jiwon." Kyunghwan sounded amused. "Didn't know you had that in you." Jiwon ignored them, hands sliding under my thighs to hike me higher. "Mine," he growled against my mouth.
Chaeng appeared beside us out of nowhere, fingers trailing up Jiwon's arm. "Sharing's more fun," she purred before licking a hot stripe up my neck. Jiwon's grip tightened, but he didn't push her off. Kyunghwan prowled closer, pressing against Chaeng's back with a wicked grin. "Fuck," he muttered, eyes glued to us. Jiwon exhaled hard, forehead dropping to mine. "Bedroom. Now." His voice was gritted out. Chaeng just laughed.
Next thing I knew, Jiwon was carrying me down the hall, his chest hot against mine, my shoulder scraping the wall. Chaeng followed, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on my ankle. Kyunghwan's footsteps were behind us. The bedroom door slammed open, and Jiwon dumped me onto the mattress with a groan. "Stay like that," he ordered, yanking his shirt off in one move. Chaeng slithered onto the bed beside me, all smooth curves and sharp smiles. "Don't worry," she murmured, her hand sliding up my inner thigh. "I'll keep her nice and ready for you." Kyunghwan's dark chuckle followed the click of the shutting door.
The bed dipped as he climbed on, Chaeng licked her lips and arched toward him. Kyunghwan fisted a hand in her hair, yanking her head back hard enough to make her gasp. "Eager, Baby?" His voice was rough, fingers tightening in her hair. She moaned, lips parting, and he crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, Chaeng's hands clawing at his waistband.
Meanwhile, Jiwon's fingers found me again, circling slow and deliberate. "Watch them," he breathed in my ear, pressing down just enough to make my hips jerk. Kyunghwan had Chaeng pinned now, one hand still tangled in her hair, the other groping her tits through her shirt. She arched against him with a whine when he bit her shoulder. My vision went hazy as Jiwon added another finger, curling just right. "Fuck!~" I choked out, thighs shaking. He smirked, thumb pressing harder. "Not yet."
Kyunghwan stood up, peeling his pants down in one smooth move. They bunched at his ankles before he kicked them aside. Chaeng went for him right away, but he grabbed her wrist, pushing it above her head. "Stay," he muttered, biting lightly at her neck. She whined, wriggling, but stayed put. Jiwon's fingers worked faster, not letting up, and I dug my heels into the mattress. "Please~"
He pulled back suddenly, standing to yank his own pants off. The emptiness left me breathless. Kyunghwan chuckled against Chaeng's lips. "Hold on, princess." She rolled her eyes, but her breath caught when his hand slipped under her skirt. Jiwon crawled back over me, his hard-on hot against my leg. "Better?" he whispered, lining himself up. I nodded fast, nails dragging down his back. Chaeng moaned loud as Kyunghwan finally gave her what she needed. Jiwon didn't wait. He pushed in hard, one rough thrust, and everything blurred into heat and hunger.
"God!~" was all I got out when he filled me. We'd done this before, but tonight felt different, heavier, hungrier. His hands dug into my hips hard enough to leave marks, every snap of his hips stealing my breath. Next to us, Chaeng's shirt muffled her moans, her bra shoved down while Kyunghwan played with her midriff, fingers working deep. She arched off the bed, her thigh pressing into mine, slick with sweat.
Jiwon's rhythm stuttered when Chaeng grabbed his arm, fingers curling around his muscle. He growled low, possessive, but didn't stop. Kyunghwan smirked, twisting his wrist just right, and Chaeng's back bowed, a choked-off cry tearing out of her. The bed shook with it, mixing with the wet sounds of skin slapping skin. Jiwon's breath hitched, his thrusts getting erratic.
The room reeked of sex and Kyunghwan's cologne where he hovered over Chaeng. I turned my head just as she bit into her shirt, eyes rolling back when he added a third finger. Jiwon's grip tightened, fucking me harder. "Watch," he rasped, so I did watched Chaeng fall apart, watched Kyunghwan's cocky grin, watched Jiwon's jaw tighten when her fingers brushed my wrist.
Then Jiwon's mouth crashed into mine, swallowing my gasp as he came inside me, hips jerking wild. Chaeng laughed, breathless, her fingers still twitching against me. Kyunghwan wiped his hand on the sheets, looking way too pleased. "Round two?" he offered, already tugging at Chaeng's waistband. Jiwon groaned against my neck, but his fingers dug into my thigh harder.
The air was thick with sweat and sex, sheets sticking to my back. Kyunghwan yanked Chaeng's skirt down her hips fast, the fabric pooling at her knees before she kicked it off. Her shirt and bra followed, straps snapping against her skin, leaving her bare except for the flush spreading down her chest. Kyunghwan grinned like a predator, palming her ass as he guided her onto all fours. "Finally," she sighed, arching her back, and the way she said it low, rough sent a shiver through me.
Kyunghwan didn't waste time. He lined himself up and drove into her hard, one sharp thrust that made the whole room echo with the sound of skin hitting skin. Chaeng's moan turned into this choked little whimper when his hand choked her throat, squeezing just enough to cut off her air for a second. His other hand was all over her chest, rough and greedy, pinching and twisting while he kept up this relentless pace. "Daddy," she mumbled into the bed, her voice slurred, and the way Kyunghwan growled in response sent a shiver straight through me.
Behind me, Jiwon's breathing hitched. His fingers dug into my hips before he flipped me over without a word, one hand pressing between my shoulders while he shoved my hips up. The first thrust knocked the air right out of me, he went deep, and the angle was sharper this time. I gasped, gripping the sheets like my life depended on it, and then Jiwon's mouth was on the back of my neck. "Watch them," he muttered, his voice thick.
So I did. Kyunghwan had Chaeng bent over the edge of the bed, her back arched like something out of a dirty dream while he hammered into her. Every time his hips snapped forward, there was this sharp slap of skin. His hand around her throat squeezed just enough to make her whine, and the other one twisted her nipple meanly. Chaeng's moans were all broken, half-formed words like "Daddy" and "harder" and "yes" that dissolved into this mindless babble when Kyunghwan growled something filthy right into her ear.
Watching them like that, wild and completely out of control sent another wave of heat crashing through me. Jiwon groaned against my back, his rhythm stuttering for a second before he grabbed my hips tighter and started fucking me like he was starving for it. "Fuck, Chaeyoung," he gritted out, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. I arched back against him, matching every thrust, the friction burning in the best way.
Chaeng's hand flailed across the bed blindly until her fingers brushed my wrist. Her grip was hot, nails digging into my skin while Kyunghwan's pace turned downright brutal. "Look at them," Jiwon breathed against my ear, his teeth scraping the lobe. "Look how fucking wrecked she is." And she was lips parted, eyes glazed over, her body just taking whatever Kyunghwan gave her.
The air was thick with the sound of skin slapping, ragged breathing, Chaeng's choked moans. Jiwon's grip tightened, his thrusts losing rhythm as he chased his own release. I turned my head just enough to catch Kyunghwan smirking, dark and satisfied, before he yanked Chaeng's hair back, exposing her throat. "Cum for me" he ordered, and her whole body tensed up before she let out this broken cry.
Jiwon cursed behind me, his hips jerking, and then he was cuming inside me with a groan, his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades. Kyunghwan followed seconds later, his fingers tightening around Chaeng's throat as he finished with this rough growl.
For a second, the room was dead silent except for all of us trying to catch our breath. Chaeng collapsed onto the mattress like a ragdoll, her fingers still loosely tangled with mine. Kyunghwan smirked down at her, then glanced at us.
"Round three?" he asked, his voice rough with amusement.
Before I could even think of answering, Chaeng rolled over and kissed me, slow and deep, her tongue tracing my lips. The boys didn't hesitate. Jiwon's hands were back on my hips, Kyunghwan's fingers in Chaeng's hair, and then they were moving again, filling us up all over again.
Chaeng's kiss turned frantic, her teeth nipping at my lip while the bed rocked under us. I whimpered into her mouth, my body way too sensitive now, every thrust sending little sparks behind my eyelids. Her thigh pressed against mine, damp with sweat, her fingers locked around my wrist like she was holding on for dear life.
Everything blurred, the sensations were too much, Jiwon's hands bruising my hips, Kyunghwan's growl as he pinned Chaeng down again, the taste of Chaeng’s lips, sweet and sharp from the soju we'd been drinking earlier. My vision started going dark around the edges, my body shaking as pleasure built and built and then—
Nothing.
First coherent thought after waking up finally pushed through the fog in my brain that heavy, cotton-mouth feeling pressing against my head like a hangover you could touch. Then the groan hit me, low and rough, shaking the bed under me. I turned my head, squinting against the weak morning light slipping through the blinds, and there was Jiwon propped up on his elbow, jaw clenched, eyes dark with this mix of pissed off and turned on.
Chaeng was curled up against him, fingers lazily stroking him through his boxers, grinning like the devil even as she yawned. "Morning," she drawled, stretching like a cat, her bare leg hooking over his hips. The sheets had slid down to her waist, showing off the bite marks Kyunghwan left on her collarbone last night. Jiwon let out this sharp breath through his nose, fingers twitching against the mattress like he couldn’t decide whether to shove her away or drag her closer.
Before I could say anything, the door creaked open. Kyunghwan strolled in, buck-ass naked, smirk growing as he took in the mess. "Oh, so you guys started without me?" His voice was rough, but his eyes were sharp, zeroing in on Chaeng’s fingers slipping under Jiwon’s waistband. Three strides and he was right there, gripping Chaeng’s chin to tilt her face up for a kiss, deep, possessive, tongue sliding against hers like he owned her. Then he flopped down next to me, his bare thigh pressing against mine.
I froze when he leaned in, nose brushing my shoulder as he took a deep breath. "Hmm. You smell like sex... Chaeyoung," he murmured, my name dropping from his mouth like an accusation. His hand slid up my side, fingers skimming just under my breast, and my breath caught. “Disgusting” that’s what should’ve i said. Being touched like this while Jiwon watched I should’ve felt disgusted. But when I glanced down, Chaeng had Jiwon’s cock in her mouth, lips stretched wide around him, eyes locked on mine as she swallowed him deeper. Jiwon’s jaw was tight, fingers tangled in her hair, but he wasn’t stopping her.
Kyunghwan chuckled against my skin, thumb rubbing lazy circles over my nipple. "Look at them," he breathed, other hand sliding down my thigh. "Your boyfriend’s got a fucking mouth on him, huh?" Chaeng moaned around Jiwon’s length, the vibration making his hips jerk. The sheets were still damp from last night, the air thick with the smell of us. Kyunghwan’s fingers tightened, lips lapping up my shoulder. "You gonna let me in, Chaeyoung?" My name again, deliberate, a provocation. His fingers pressed against my heat, teasing but not pushing in. I arched into his touch, biting back a whimper. "May I?" he murmured against my ear. My moan slipped out before I could stop it, and he didn’t wait. Two fingers slid inside me, curling just right, and my hips jerked. "Fuck," I gasped, nails digging into his arm.
Across the bed, Chaeng lifted her head, lips swollen and wet. "My turn," she purred, swinging a leg over Jiwon’s face. He didn’t hesitate, hands gripping her ass as she sank onto his tongue. Her moan was filthy, head tipping back as she rocked against him. Then she leaned forward, taking Jiwon back into her mouth in one smooth motion, throat working around him. Kyunghwan groaned, fingers speeding up inside me. "Fuck, she’s greedy," he muttered, thumb rubbing tight circles over my clit. The double sensation, his fingers fucking me, Chaeng’s muffled moans around Jiwon’s cock made my vision go hazy.
Kyunghwan's fingers worked me differently than Jiwon ever had, deeper, rougher, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me from the inside out. Chaeng's moan cut through the heavy air, "God, right there," she gasped, her thighs shaking under Jiwon's grip. When she arched, coming apart under his mouth, he didn't let up, not until she was squirming away, leaving his chin glistening.
Then Jiwon hauled her down next to me and his mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding, the taste of Chaeng still on his tongue. He kissed me slow, deliberate, like he was waiting for an answer I hadn't given yet. My heart hammered so loud I could barely hear Kyunghwan's ragged breath against my neck, his fingers pausing inside me.
Jiwon pulled back just enough to lock eyes with me, lips swollen, jaw wet. while Kyunghwan's fingers curled deeper, his thumb rubbing rough circles that made my hips jerk. "Say yes," Kyunghwan murmured against my ear. Chaeng's fingers tangled in Jiwon's hair, her breathing uneven as she watched.
I don't know what did it, maybe Chaeng arching into Jiwon's touch, maybe the way Kyunghwan's fingers wouldn't let up, but I nodded.
That was all Jiwon needed.
He dragged Chaeng closer, flipping her onto her stomach, his cock pressing against her ass before he shoved in with one sharp thrust. She gasped, back bowing as he bottomed out. "Fuck, you take me so good," he growled, hands leaving bruises on her hips.
Chaeng clawed at the sheets, panting, while Kyunghwan watched with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers still working me. "You like watching them?" he breathed against my ear. I couldn't answer, not with Jiwon pounding into her like that, not with Chaeng's moans turning desperate.
The bed rocked under us, Jiwon's hips snapping forward relentlessly, skin slapping skin. Chaeng begged for more, and Jiwon gave it to her, hauling her hips up higher until she was sobbing. Kyunghwan chuckled darkly, his thumb circling faster. "Look at them," he said, and I did, watched the sweat trail down Jiwon's back, the way Chaeng's body yielded to every thrust. His fingers sped up, matching Jiwon's rhythm, pushing me closer.
Chaeng came first, crying out as her body clenched around him. Jiwon groaned when her juices tried to push him out of her, holding her tighter.
Then Kyunghwan's fingers were gone, replaced by his cock. No warning, just one hard thrust that buried him inside me, tearing a gasp from me as I tipped over the edge. My muscles clamped down so hard he nearly slipped out. "Shit," he snarled, gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks before slamming back in.
He fucked like an animal, each snap of his hips relentless, chasing his own pleasure now that I was limp and oversensitive beneath him. The bed rocked wildly, Chaeng's whimpers mingling with the wet sounds of skin on skin. I turned my head, dazed, and found Jiwon watching us, his jaw clenched, hips stuttering as he neared his own release. Kyunghwan's pace turned erratic, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Chaeyoung," he groaned, voice thick, and Jiwon echoed it at the same moment, low and wrecked, "Chaeyoung", their voices tangling together in the thick air.
Kyunghwan groaned against my back as he came inside me, his thrusts slowing down to lazy little pushes. Jiwon wasn't far behind, I felt him tense up against Chaeng's shoulder a second later, his fingers digging into the sheets. The whole room reeked of sweat and sex, sheets twisted around us like we'd been wrestling. Kyunghwan flopped onto his back next to me, grinning like an idiot while his hand traced nonsense patterns on my hip.
Chaeng stretched out like a cat in the sun, grinning. "Well," she said, rolling onto her side to poke me in the ribs, " that happened." Jiwon just rubbed his face like he was trying to wake up, but didn't argue. Kyunghwan propped himself up on one elbow, already reaching for me again with that stupid smirk. "Round two?" he asked, like it was totally reasonable. I smacked his hand away.
Jiwon sat up first, grabbing my wrist and hauling me upright before I could react. "Not today," he muttered, low enough that only I heard it. Something about the way he said it—like he was claiming territory, made my skin prickle. Kyunghwan fake-whined, flopping back dramatically. "You're no fun," he complained, but he was still smirking. Chaeng chucked a pillow at Jiwon's head. "Party pooper," she sing-songed, but her eyes were smiling.
The sheets were sticky and gross when I peeled myself off the bed. Jiwon tossed me a towel without looking, but I caught him staring at the hickeys Kyunghwan left on my neck before he turned away fast. I wrapped the towel around me tighter than I needed to, trying not to be obvious about how much I wished we weren't stopping. Chaeng had no such shame, she groaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear as she stretched. Kyunghwan laughed and messed up her hair. "Next time," he said, and it sounded like a promise and a warning all at once.
Getting dressed was awkward. Chaeng wiggled into her skirt like she wasn't naked two seconds ago, Kyunghwan's belt buckle clinking way too loud in the quiet room. Jiwon handed me my underwear without a word, our fingers brushing for half a second before he pulled back like I'd burned him. Then Kyunghwan, the little shit, pulled out his phone with a grin. "Hey Bro," he said, scrolling through his photos, "remember her?" He flashed the screen Jiheon, mid-laugh, hair everywhere, clearly just got laid. Another swipe—Chaeyeon this time, tangled in Kyunghwan's sheets. "Both in my lineup now," he bragged. Jiwon's jaw clenched, but he didn't say shit, just grabbed his jacket.
I caught Chaeng's wrist before she could follow Kyunghwan out, tugging her back against me. "Hey," I mumbled into her hair, breathing in Kyunghwan's cologne on her skin. "We cool?" She leaned into me with a tired laugh, her thumb rubbing over the fresh hickey on my arm. "Better than cool," she said, bumping her head against mine. "Though your boyfriend looks like he wants to murder mine."
Jiwon was still by the door, arms crossed, watching Kyunghwan fix his collar in the hallway mirror like it personally offended him. "You done?" he grumbled. Kyunghwan grinned and flicked invisible dirt off Jiwon's shoulder. "Jealousy's a bad look on you, man." Chaeng snorted in my arms. "What's the deal with you two anyway?" she asked, loud enough to make Jiwon's eye twitch.
Jiwon let out a sharp breath. "This idiot got me in so much shit in college." Kyunghwan laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Dude, you weren't exactly innocent." Whatever memory that was, it almost made Jiwon smile before he caught himself. "Out," he ordered, shoving Kyunghwan toward the door.
Chaeng slipped out of my hold, kissing my cheek before sauntering after them. "Text me," she called over her shoulder with a wink. The door shut behind them, leaving the apartment way too quiet. Jiwon's shoulders slumped a little, his fingers tapping against his leg once before he turned to me.
The air between us felt heavy, full of all the things we weren't saying. He looked down at where I was picking at the towel's edge. "You good?" he asked, softer than I expected. I nodded. "Yeah. You?" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Yeah."
I knew what he meant. The apartment smelled like sex and it was just us again. Just Jiwon, just Chaeyoung. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. No words, just warmth.
Happy Eunha Day!! We, along with Umji and SinB treat Eunha to a special gift.
Length 2.7K
Eunha x Umji, SinB, Male Reader
“Oh my,” Eunha blushes at the cake she receives. She couldn’t believe that her friends had it made. Standing before her was a cake made to look like a dick. What made her blush the most was the fact that white chocolate had been used to make it look like it had cum.
“Do you like it?” SinB asks teasingly. “We knew you wanted one as a gift.” The younger woman knew what Eunha had meant the last time they had spoken, and she got that, too. SinB just thought it would be funnier to start with the cake.
Umji smiles, having agreed to present the cake first. “We have another gift too, but we need you to put this on first.” The youngest member of Viviz holds out a blindfold for Eunha to wear. Hesitantly, Eunha put it on, with Umji checking the tightness before they began. “Open wide, unnie,” Eunha opens her mouth. She feels the metal of the spoon tap against her teeth before it lands on her tongue. The sweetness of the cake hit her instantly. Eunha smiled as she kept her lips sealed around the spoon, making it difficult for Umji to pull it out. “Unnie,” Umji whined. That was enough for Eunha to loosen her grip and allow Umji to pull the spoon out. As Umji got another spoonful of cake, SinB got to work on her side of the plan. She got behind Eunha and slipped her hands under the older woman’s shirt. Her hands went to Eunha’s tits, squeezing the modest mounds.
The act made Eunha shiver. “Ah, S-sinB,” she stuttered. Eunha didn’t try to contain her moans; she leaned back against SinB, letting her friend grope her as much as she pleased. Eunha felt her friend’s hands find her nipple. SinB’s long fingers flicked the nubs until they grew hard. Eunha could hardly focus as Umji fed her a spoonful of cake. The eldest continued to moan as SinB tugged her hardened nipples. She whined, struggling to deal with the pleasure. Yet, when SinB stopped, she wanted more. The younger woman stopped for a moment, grabbing the hem of Eunha’s shirt and stripping it away from her body. Eunha could feel the air against her bare skin.
“We’re going to take this off too,” SinB whispered, patting Eunha’s skirt. In the next instant, Eunha was standing there naked. Her arousal was clearly visible to SinB and Umji, who saw the older woman’s inner thighs glistening with her nectar.
“Aw, Unnie wants more,” Umji giggles, placing her hand on Eunha’s slit, rubbing her puffy lips. The older woman moans softly, wriggling her toes as she tries to stifle her moan.
“We’ll give you more,” SinB said. This made Eunha cock her head to the side. She had no clue what SinB meant. SinB grabbed the older woman’s hands, and Eunha felt cold metal around her wrists, followed by the sound of some clicks. Eunha knew immediately what was put on her. The girls weren’t done, though. SinB brought Eunha’s hand above her head. Unable to see, Eunha had no clue what was happening. Once she felt SinB's hands move away, she tried to lower hers, only to find she couldn’t. They were stuck high above her head. The birthday girl rubbed her legs together. She figured out what was going on. “Happy birthday, Eunha!” SinB chirped. “We thought it might be good to give you something you’ve always wanted.”
Eunha shivered as she felt a light smack of a riding crop on the outside of her thigh. “We’ll make sure to take good care of you. Isn’t that right, Mr. Boyfriend? Aren’t you the luckiest guy to have such a kinky little bunny?” Eunha's cheeks turned a bright red; she had fully expected this to be a session between them.
“I really am,” you reply, confirming you were in the room as well. “Eunha’s always saying well, you two treat her. I thought it would be good to join.” You come up behind the restrained woman and place your hands on Eunha’s side, your hands moving along her smooth sides until you reach her mounds. You cup her tits, giving them a light squeeze. Eunha sucks in a breath, a small whine coming from her as SinB runs the riding crop closer to her slit.
“Unnie, really is a kinky bunny,” Umji says softly. The youngest member had gone unnoticed by Eunha. It was only now that she could tell Umji was standing right in front of her. Umji’s soft lips pressed against the valley between her breasts. Eunha felt Umji’s hands at her waist, squeezing her ever so slightly. Umji planted more kisses on Eunha’s body, leaving a mark on her neck before stealing a kiss from the older woman. Their tongues swirled around one another. Eunha moaned into their kiss, panting as your cock prodded her backside.
“Tell us what you want,” you tell your lover.
“I want you to fuck me,” Eunha says softly. You all smile, hearing Eunha admit it so easily. You massage Eunha’s soft tits with your palm, her nipples hardening against you. When the sensitive bulbs were finally rock hard, you let go of one of her tits, shifting your hand downward. “Umji, why don’t you have a taste of this?” Umji giggled and lowered her head, her lips trapping Eunha’s nipple. The youngest member flicked the sensitive nub with her tongue before opening her mouth wider and greedily taking more of Eunha’s breast into her mouth. Your girlfriend moaned loudly as Umji bit down on her tit, just hard enough to leave teeth marks when she let go later. For now, Umji sucked on Eunha’s tit to her heart’s content. You made sure Eunha’s other mound wasn’t neglected, pulling and twisting the sensitive nub. “SinB, do you want a taste too?”
“I’ll take one,” SinB says with a smirk. SinB follows Umji’s lead, teasing Eunha’s nipple before taking in more of her supple tit. Eunha’s moans grew louder now that she had both her friends sucking on her tits; her juices were making her thighs glisten. The pleasure she felt kept growing, too. You slipped your cock between her legs, rubbing it against her slick folds. Hands wandered all over Eunha’s body. SinB and Umji went to their favorite spot, each woman grabbing a handful of Eunha’s cheeks, squeezing the thick piece of meat.
“What do you want?” You ask Eunha again.
“For you to fuck me. Fuck me while they suck on my tits.” Eunha moaned. You smiled, seeing your girl so needy. You press your cock against her entrance and push into the warm, slick cavern. Eunha’s moan reaches a new apex as you push yourself deeper into her cunt. It’s as if with every suck from Umji and SinB, her walls clamp down on you. You bury yourself inside Eunha, stalling until she whines for you to move. You kiss the back of her neck before dragging your length out of her, her walls refusing to let you go easily. It feels good, her walls massaging you as you try to pull out. You leave the tip inside Eunha before thrusting into her again. Her body lurches forward, pushing her tits further into her friends’ mouths. You begin to build a rhythm, you grab onto her waist and grow rougher with your thrusts, drawing more moans from your girlfriend.
“You’re a really naughty bunny, Eunha. Having done these sorts of things with Umji and SinB so often,” you tell her. “All those videos you send. We’re going to break this little bunny tonight.” Your words make Eunha shiver with anticipation. She’s your captive for the night, and she’s already about to have her first climax.
SinB abandons Eunha’s tit, favoring a kiss from the birthday girl and playing with Eunha’s clit. Eunha’s toes curl, and she cries out as she cums on your cock, her nectar coating your shaft before it leaks out of her and drips onto the floor. Umji smiles and drops to her knees, lapping at Eunha’s sopping cunt, focusing her attention on where you and Eunha come together. “Ah! Wait, h-hold on,” Eunha struggles with her words as you continue to drive your cock into her overly stimulated cunt. It didn’t help Eunha that Umji was dragging her tongue along until she reached her clit.
“We’re going to break you,” SinB said kindly. “Just enjoy it all, Eunha.” SinB took a step back. Eunha tried to listen to where SinB was going, but it was all but impossible to hear over her own moans and the wet claps of your body and hers colliding. When SinB did come back, it was to force another orgasm onto her. SinB pats Umji’s shoulder, a silent signal to move. It was only then that Eunha could hear what SinB had brought. She heard the motor of a vibrator. Just what kind she had brought, she had no clue, but Eunha understood now she was going to be made into a mess by the end.
Umji and SinB worked together. Umji held the small bullet vibrators at their max, while SinB applied the tape to them. There was one for each nipple. Eunha screams the moment they apply the vibrators. She was quickly turning into a whimpering mess as the combined pleasure of the toy and your cock began to break her mind.
As it turned out, that wasn’t all that SinB had brought along. She flicked the switch on a wand as well, pressing it against Eunha’s clit. The older woman screams out again, pleasure overwhelming her senses as she cums again. This time was much more intense than the last. Eunha squirts, her juices spilling onto the floor as her body twitches. Umji and SinB watch with glee as the oldest member of Viviz writhes with pleasure. “Do you like your gift, unnie?” Umji asks, smiling at the blindfolded woman.
Eunha couldn’t respond. How could she when her mind was going blank from all the sensations she was going through? She didn’t even realize how close you were to cumming. She only caught wind of it when you buried yourself inside her cunt. Eunha could feel your potent cum shooting into her womb. Eunha’s body was going limp; she had no strength as you filled her to the brim. Your cock was acting as a plug because the moment you pulled out, your cum began to leak out of her, dripping onto the floor and running down her legs. You turn Eunha’s head and kiss her gently, “Get ready for the next round.”
Eunha raises her head and sees before her Umji and SinB with their own cocks. Her friends had put on a strapon and were stroking it, making sure they were slick with lube. They circled Eunha for a moment, looking her over and deciding who would take the front and who would take the back. “SinB, I want her ass,” Umji says, her eyes glued to Eunha’s plush rear.
“You can have it,” SinB replies. “I want to wreck that pretty pink pussy of hers.” Umji cheers, having gotten what she wants. Before they started, though, Umji kneeled behind Eunha, spreading her cheeks. Umji saw her prize, Eunha’s puckered ass. The younger woman sticks her tongue out and circles it. Eunha groans, her body shivers as Umji’s tongue pushes into her.
“U-umji,” Eunha struggles to get words out anymore. Umji's tongue was digging deeper, and pushing her towards cumming again. Umji stopped close, though.
“Unnie, I hope you’re not tired yet,” Umji giggled as she pressed the tip of her strapon against Eunha’s ass. Umji held Eunha’s waist and pushed in, stretching the tight ring of muscle. A long, drawn-out moan came from Eunha as her ass was stretched out.
On the other side, SinB was teasing Eunha, rubbing her silicone cock against Eunha’s folds. “We love you,” she said with a smirk before pushing in. Eunha threw her head back; she had her groupmates deep in her guts, their cocks rubbing against each other through her thin walls. They were alternating when Umji thrust in, SinB moved out, and vice versa. It was bearable for a moment, but quickly they began to play roughly. Their thrusts were quick, like they were using a toy instead of fucking Eunha. “What do you like?”
“Being fucked! I love it!”
“You’re a dirty little bunny, right?”
“I’m a dirty little bunny! I’m a dirty fucking bunny who loves having cocks shoved up her ass and pussy at the same time.” Eunha shouted; she was beginning to really lose it. “I’m a fleshlight for my juniors. I love when they fuck the shit out of me. I love cock, I love it!” Eunha cried out as she came for what must’ve been the fourth time. You had lost count at this point.
Still, it was an erotic sight for you to see the groupmates so close. It had you hard again. You come in close and unhook Eunha’s hands. “Lower her to the floor, I want to use her mouth.” SinB smiled and abided by your request. She lay on the ground, Eunha riding her while Umji continued to fuck her ass. You tilt Eunha’s head up and rub your cock against her glossy lips. Your girlfriend opens her mouth slowly, and you push inside. Her tongue lashes against the sides as you slide in and out. Eunha was completely stuffed now, with a cock in every hole. Her head was spinning from all the pleasure crashing over her. On top of the three of you fucking her there was still the matter of the bullet vibrators on her nipples. Eunha couldn’t hold herself together any longer. She came again, and again. Every few thrusts, she would cry out as her overstimulated body squirted out more nectar. She was a complete mess, and you were about to add to that mess.
You thrust into the back of Eunha’s mouth, fucking her face roughly, your balls slapping against her chin, saliva coating your cock as she gags on it. “Beg for this cum.” You tell her, pulling out of her mouth and slapping her cheeks with your cock.
“I want it!” she shouted. “Cum in me. I want your salty cum down my throat!” You push your cock back into her mouth and watch as Eunha fucks herself, bobbing her head until your cock is hitting the back of her throat. As Eunha feels your cock throb, she holds herself to your crotch. Your cock twitches in her mouth, and as you explode inside her, so do Umji and SinB, much to Eunha’s surprise. Eunha’s eyes shoot open as she feels a warm liquid shoot into her womb and ass. The amount is crazy, Eunha felt as if her belly was going to bulge with the amount being pumped into her. The distraction allows you to pull out, and you use the last of your climax to paint Eunha’s face.
Eunha collapses onto SinB’s chest. “Did you like your gift?” SinB asks.
Umji presses herself against Eunha, wrapping her arms around her unnie. “Yeah, did you like your gift? We got these toys especially made. Did they feel familiar? They should because it’s your boyfriend cock.”
“Not just that, but you felt it, right? You felt us cumming in you?” SinB adds.
Eunha nods her head slowly; her body is absolutely exhausted. “It felt amazing. I feel so full,” she mutters. You all can’t help but laugh at Eunha. The petite woman could barely speak after all her shouting and moaning.
“We’ll help you get cleaned up, right, girls?” SinB and Umji flash you a smile.
“Yeah, we’ll get Eunha all cleaned up.” They say in unison. You had said that you would break the naughty little bunny, and the three of you intended to continue. Umji and SinB pull out of Eunha, their fake cum leaking from the birthday girl’s gaping holes. You lift your girlfriend, carrying her to the shower, followed by Umji and SinB, all of you ready to torment Eunha with the beautiful agony of constant climaxes.
A simple SinB fic for SinB day, and today she's very needy.
Length 2.3K
SinB x Mreader
SinB sat at home, wondering what to do. She had nothing planned, and while she could go out, she didn't particularly want to. As she turned over in bed, she looked at her nightstand. On the little table were her toys, various dildos and vibrators, shamelessly sitting there. SinB debated using them, but there was little desire to do so. A toy was good and all, but right now SinB felt like it wouldn't be enough; she wanted the real thing.
The young woman huffed. She reached over and grabbed her phone. She flicked through pictures and opened apps, going through everything in her boredom. Then she saw something that caught her eye. It was a cock, a long and thick one. She wasn't shocked; on the internet, people got around to posting things they definitely shouldn't have, and they'd be banned for it. Still looking at it, it piqued her interest. Then she read the caption, which was asking for someone to fuck in their area. Better yet, it was close to SinB; she recognized the address. SinB made another account; she wouldn't be caught using her own to direct message someone. She took a deep breath and began typing out a message. She saw what she liked and wanted it. SinB might not have known what kind of girl you were into, but she figured with a cock like that, someone submissive might seem better. SinB could play any role, so it didn't matter that much. Once the message was sent, she took a deep breath. Hopefully, she would get a message back soon. In a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, she got an immediate response. She was a little shocked to hear back so quickly, but it was all for the better. She had an itch that needed scratching.
You and SinB chatted, exchanging quick pleasantries before getting down to business.
“So you’re looking to fuck?”
“Yeah, I really need a big fat cock right now.”
“I’m going to need to see a photo,” you text. SinB furrowed her brow; she didn’t exactly want to show her face.
“Is a body shot okay?”
“That’ll work, but I want it nude.”
“Fair enough,” she thought to herself. This was for the purposes of fucking, and they’d see each other later. SinB stood out of bed and walked over to the floor-length mirror. It was a good thing she was already naked—a small perk of sleeping in the nude. SinB gives a quick peace sign before snapping the picture. She looked it over quickly, making sure her face wasn’t visible and nothing of note was in the background. Once she was sure, she sent it over to you. “I’ll be wearing a mask during this. As much as I need you to fuck me up with your cock, I don’t need anyone to know what I’m doing.”
“Fine by me, but I’m going to need one more picture, from the back this time.” SinB rolled her eyes at the request. At this point, she thought she was in for a penny, in for a pound. She turned around and snapped a picture of her backside. The picture was sent, and then the two of you began discussing details. “Can I come over now?” She asked. The response was an immediate yes. Finally securing a fuckbuddy. SinB started to get dressed. The young woman didn’t bother to wear panties or a bra. They wouldn’t be of any use anyway.
Dressed, SinB went on her way to your home. She did have to make a quick return to grab a mask. In her haste, she had nearly forgotten to put one on. She was right, the place was nearby. The moment she stepped into your home, you commanded her to strip down. Considering you were already naked, she had no problem with it. The young woman’s eyes were glued to your stiff cock. You hadn’t lied about what you were packing, and for that, she was thankful. She was also thankful you happened to pop up on her feed. You lead the young woman to your bedroom and take a seat on the bed. “Crawl for me, let me see what I bagged.”
SinB was glad that what lay before her matched the pictures she had seen. She smiled behind her mask and dropped to her knees. She crawled toward you, keeping her back arched and hips swaying. She would be happy to service you. She wrapped her hand around your length, her thumb tracing one of your veins. She moved along your shaft, watching your cock intently. She was getting wetter just looking at it. A handjob wasn’t going to be enough. “Go on and suck it. I see that look in your eyes.”
SinB smirked. She knew she had a terrible poker face when it came to sex. SinB inched closer to you. She pulled the bottom of her mask and stuck her tongue out, the slick tip appearing to you, dripping saliva onto the tip of your cock. She moved lower, concealing your length as she wrapped her lips around it. It's like a disappearing act with the mask involved. Your cock disappearing into the young woman’s moist and warm mouth. You groan, enjoying the experienced mouth of your new fuck buddy. She moves along your shaft, reaching the base with a little effort. It turns you on the way she chokes on your cock, the small gags, and the teary eyes as she forces herself to stay near the base.
You remember her opening messages and take advantage of this opportunity. You place your hands on the sides of SinB’s head and start thrusting your hips, fucking her face with increasing pace. SinB relaxed her jaw, letting you do as you pleased. There was something about having a cock being rammed down her throat that turned her on. Her hand went between her legs, finding her sopping cunt. She rubbed her clit, going in small circles. SinB’s moans were muffled at times, but you could tell she was trying to speak. What she said didn’t matter because you both knew she wanted this. The young woman placed her hand on your thigh, gripping it tightly as she got closer to cumming. “You love being facefucked, don’t you, you little slut.”
“I love it. I love big fucking cocks,” SinB tried to say. It was all but impossible with your cock still ramming the back of her throat. Her eyes shot open for a brief moment as you held her to your crotch. Then they slowly fell, half-lidded as your thickcum poured down her throat. You pulled out a bit, letting the young woman enjoy the taste as it filled her mouth. You might not have been able to see it, but SinB’s cheeks were hollowed out as she sucked as hard as she could, wanting every last drop. Even once your orgasm has ended, SinB keeps sucking, bobbing her head a few more times before leaving it with a pop.
The young woman makes sure to adjust her mask, keeping it over the lower half of her face. Her eyes never leave your cock, though, even after cumming, you were still hard.“Fuck, you really know how to treat a guy’s cock right. Why don’t you climb on up and ride this thing?”
SinB climbs onto you. She squats above your cock, her hand wrapping around your slick shaft as she aligns her aching cunt with you. “I’ve needed this all day.”
“Then go on, ride this fucking dick like your life depends on it.” You bring your hand to SinB’s ass, making her suppress a moan. She giggles before lowering herself. The young woman cranes her neck, eyes shutting as she relishes the sensation of your cock stretching her entrance. The head was splitting her apart, and as she took more into her warm folds, SinB’s voice trickled out. This was just what she had been craving. She took your cock deep into her needy cunt, stretching it to its limits. SinB let out a loud groan. She was absolutely stuffed. You were pressing against her womb. The young woman pushed on her knees to lift herself. It was difficult, though; her walls were clamping onto your cock, refusing to let it go easily.
“C’mon slut, bounce on this dick,” you tell her, spanking her ass. SinB drops onto your cock one more time. The vice grip she has on you feels incredible, along with the warmth of her core. The pace she was moving at, though, left a lot to be desired. “I’ll do it myself,” you tell the young woman, grabbing onto her waist. You begin to bounce SinB on your cock, with a little force, you can easily slide her along your length, her slick walls still desperate for your cock. SinB grips your arms, moaning constantly. You watch her small tits bounce along with her, her soft flesh jiggling.
You begin to thrust into her, adding to the pleasure she feels. “Fuck, fuck,” SinB grunts. She places her hands on your chest, supporting herself as you drive yourself into her. “I-I can’t–cumming!” SinB cries out, her walls clamping down on your shaft. As SinB cums on your cock you slip your hands under her legs and around her back. You slowly rise to your feet, keeping yourself connected to the young woman. You walk over to the windows, pressing her against it as you ram your length into her womb. SinB cries out. She presses her hands against the glass; her feet are by her head as you fold her in half. The only support she has is your hands on her ass. She feels your nails digging into her flesh, and your rough thrusts bring her to the edge of another orgasm.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes! Yes! It’s exactly what I wanted, what I needed.” SinB shouts, more moans spilling from her lips with every thrust, the sound filling the room along with the clapping of your bodies.
“Yeah, tell me all about it.”
“Toys can’t even compare to the real thing. A real fucking cock doesn’t stretch me out and fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.” SinB’s head rests against the glass, her core tightens as her orgasm approaches, and as much as she tries to hold it back, it becomes impossible.
“A toy can’t cum inside you either,” you remark, burying yourself inside her fertile cunt. SinB lets out a low groan as your cum is pumped into her body. You feel her walls flexing around your cock, dragging every drop of cum out of you. “Such a tight cunt, I bet you want more, don’t you?”
“Please, please, fill my slutty pussy with more cum,” She mumbles. You bring SinB over to the bed, turning her onto her stomach and raising her ass into the air. You bring your hand down on her ass once more; the few strikes you’ve given her already have her skin turning a bright red. “More,” SinB groans, shaking her ass for you. You smirk as the young woman asks for more punishment. You bring your hands down on her cheeks, watching her ass recoil. You deliver more strikes, alternating which cheek gets hit. SinB keeps her face to the mattress and ass raised high, each hit had her biting her bottom lip, pleasure building from each stinging hit.
She took a deep breath when the spanking finally ended. Then she cried out as you pierce her with your length. You hold onto her waist with one hand as the other grabs her hair. You pull her head back as you drive your cock back into her. SinB has drool dripping from the corners of her mouth, soaking her mask as you drive her crazy. Each thrust makes her lurch forward. When you pull her back, you match it with a thrust, making sure each time you ram into her womb.
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” SinB mumbles, her body tingling all over. She could only focus on the sensation of your slick cock sliding in and out of her, pushing your cum out of her cunt to make room for more. As your cock began to throb, SinB tried pushing her ass back against you. She had little strength, though at the moment, she was nothing more than a toy for you to use, and she had no problem with that. The itch that had been bothering her was finally gone, and on top of that, she found someone who could be a great fuck buddy. The moment you buried yourself inside her, SinB reached another peak, her vision blurring as you came inside her again. Your searing cum poured into her womb again. If she wasn’t on the pill, she was certain you would get her pregnant with the amount you were pumping into her. Even with your cock inside her, it began to flow out of her abused cunt. Her pussy is left gaping as you pull out and spurt the last of your cum onto her back. SinB lets out a shuddered sigh. She felt content. You take a seat beside SinB, looking at your work.
After some time, SinB regains enough energy. “That was amazing.”
“Yeah, now why don’t you take a little walk of shame, go back home with my cum on your back?”
“Okay,” SinB said with a giggle. SinB slowly got up, her legs wobbly as she dressed herself. The amount of cum you poured into her left the crotch of her pants wet, and her backless shirt made it quite obvious what she had done. “How about I come back in a couple of days?”
“Deal.” With that, your little tryst with SinB was over. She walked out and began the walk back to her home, hair sticking to her forehead, and large splotches of cum on her back. She would consider today a success. She didn’t even care if people noticed her right now.
Comm: A Breastful Evening from Karina's Point of View
(Karina x Male Lover, 2.2k Words) Tags: Karina's POV; She's a classy gal, She gives classy tittyfucks, Loss of virginity, Outraged crushes, Cleavage creampies, Multiple Penetration, Dear lord her tits look huge in that dress
I smile up at him, my eyes devouring his every nervous twitch and hesitant movement, his every tentative action revealing a truth any experienced woman could discern. Virgin. Not that I have a particular lust for the inexperienced, but any woman harbors that sordid satisfaction of being a man's First, his entry-point into the realm of adulthood, the standard by which all future partners will be judged. He shudders as his gaze roams my body, drinking in the sight of a real woman, not some pampered girl who flees the very thought of sex, but someone who is willing to give him everything. I could give him myself, but where would be the fun in that? That initial pleasure of feeling him inside me, those hesitant first thrusts... all ruined a few moments later when he loses control and plasters my folds with his first load. So boring. So banal. Better to draw things out, to make him crave release, to carve my body into his brain so deeply that this moment might never be surpassed. With a lazy smirk I position myself in front of him, "Are you ready?" I politely enquire, and he moans,
"Yes... Karina, please..."
I cannot remember his name, nor does that fact particularly bother me. It was a classy affair, lots of flash and glitter and expense. Expensive outfits, expensive jewelry, expensive escorts; that last section included me. Looking attractive is already part of my job, we idols just do it so well, that few can resist our charms. My initial partner certainly could not, which was why I left him sprawled in the handicapped bathroom with his pants around his ankles and his balls like raisins. And the part had only been going on for barely over an hour when I had sashayed out of that reeking bathroom, so I had time to kill and entertainment to find. And lo, there he was. Some ripe young man simply ogling the passing women-flesh on display, some immature girls fluttering about him, obviously childhood friends too busy bickering to claim the prize they both have been hankering after for God knows how many years. Oh well, perhaps they will learn to pluck their fruit before someone else does.
All it took was a shy smile, the most teasing of comments, the slight touch of my hand against his arm, the subtly lean of my body so that his eyes nearly fell down my cleavage. I was mildly impressed he had not tried to take me then and there. But as I stressed, this was a classy affair, so instead I idly guided him into one of those decorated nooks and crannies that seem to populate any party of sufficient stature; lust requires some privacy in polite society after all. My how his little birds had chirped as I led him away, not realizing what a favor I was doing them, virgins can be so disappointing if one does not enjoy them with the correct mindset, which they wouldn't have. The first several niches I glanced into were occupied, indeed, I had spotted my dear groupmate Ningning in one of them squirting wildly all over her partner, I had shared a glance of acknowledgement, and then I had moved on. But the fifth cubby had been empty, and even sported a chair with an assortment of pillows scattered about. Perfect.
He had wavered at the precipice, uncertainty warring with lust, no doubt his mother had sternly ordered him to beware gorgeous women offering themselves to him, fearful of him coming home with some unworthy slut with a full belly. But his mother can rest easy, I have no interest in bearing his child. I glanced over my shoulder, raising an innocent eyebrow, and cordially invited him to join me, giving him my playful face, the one that makes my fans croon. It worked. Obviously. And soon he was nervously ensconced in the seat, while I kicked some pillows in front of it, kneeling on marble is rather unpleasant after all, no doubt all sorts of ideas running through his silly little head. Then I knelt before him, flashed a winning smile, and oh so tenderly slid my hands long his legs before oh so surprisingly ending up with my fingers deftly unzipping him. It is best to be direct with virgins, otherwise nothing will get done.
And so now here I am, on my knees before some spoiled brat, his penis hardening and softening in my hand, asking with the utmost courtesy if he is prepared for what is to come. He is not, but he doesn't know that. He answers, "Yes, Karina," he stammers, pleadingly, "please..." Adorable. His eyes ravish me, my perfectly shaped face, my long luscious black hair, my bared limber legs, my weighty breasts, so skillfully displayed by my short, black dress; it was a gentle surprise I was not already dripping with his semen. No doubt he expects to spend his seven seconds of heaven inside of me, but that would be a waste. He would barely be in my pussy long enough to truly appreciate its splendor, and then he would fuck one of those indolent girls who surround him, would last several minutes in her loose cunt, and incorrectly declare her better than an idol. It was demeaning, really. So I imprint myself upon him in a more memorable manner, unlimbering my cleavage from its confines and allowing it to drape down my chest.
Ah. Now he stiffens.
I give him several heartbeats to truly appreciate my chest, leaning back and tilting my head down, giving him a playful smile to encourage him, all while my fingers delicately fondle his manhood. Already he is groaning, gawping at my tits as if he had never seen a pair of breasts before, if I had turned about and dropped my panties, no doubt my ass would be getting plastered. But that would not be fun, so instead I wait patiently until the pulsating in his cock subsides, before onehandedly popping open the bottle of oil I had pulled from my purse while he was busy drooling over my curves. I dower my breasts with a healthy helping of scented lubricating oil, not enough to remove stimulation, but enough to ensure I would not need to reapply it any time soon. I rub it into my cleavage, massaging it with both hands until it is slick and glistens in the false candlelight of the flambeaux, "Well, aren't you a little excited" I purr vivaciously, "I hope you will be able to make it between them..." and my lips curl upwards when he assures me he will. Such youthful confidence...
Wearing a beatifical smile, I wrap my breasts around his upraised member, relishing in his sigh of pleasure as my soft flesh enfolds him, trapping his cock in my pillowy prison. Precum beads at his tip, and I give him a shocked expression, "Cumming so soon?" I gasp teasingly, before descending into giggles, making his face flush an even deeper red. He stammers excuses, but I shush with a laugh, "Oh don't worry dear, I'll be sure to make this last..." and he nods eagerly, no doubt interpreting this as a few minutes, as if that would be enough to satisfy me. Feeling his balls uncurl from his groin, I start to move, dragging my chest up his length, before hauling my breasts back down it, a simple, yet effective technique. He shudders while I pleasure him, my breasts softer than anything he could have fantasized, a constant, pampering pressure has emptied many a lover. His groans fill our secluded alcove as I languidly stimulate his cock, my cleavage having claimed his virginity, it was superior to most pussies after all, so it might as well count.
Barely a minute has gone by before his hips start to flinch, his manhood palpitated between my tits, his breaths increasing rapidly, "Oh fuck, Karina!" He moans, "Don't stop!" Already pathetically eager to reach his climax and leave me with a chestful of thick semen. How cute. So I relax, my breasts denuding his cock of the pressure that stimulates it so, stifling his rising orgasm, even as he desperately starts to hump my chest. I ride it out, carefully maneuvering my cleavage to ensure the only thing leaving his swollen dick was a runnel of precum that pools against my skin, leaving him blubbering, "Oh not yet dear," I croon, "I am hardly satisfied with just this. I want all of it," as if I truly care about his worthless seed, journey before destination, after all, "I want your first load to be magnificent," I lie cheerfully, "I want you begging for release," which was far more truthful. Hearing cherry boys whimpering was just so... delicious. It excites that primal part of me, that motherly urge to dominate the lesser the sex. And boys think girls need a fat cock in them to feel satisfied!
So I continue, once I am sure the risk of premature ejaculation has fallen, having already learned his rhythms. Cocks are such simple brutes, so easy to conquer if one takes the time to learn their weaknesses. Now I add a little more pressure to the proceedings, squishing my chest a touch tighter to keep his dick's attention fully on me, penises do so love to sulk after being edged. But my efforts are enough revive his manhood's interest, already sensitive from having come so close to finishing, and soon he is gasping once more. My breasts squelch along his shaft, his fluids adding an endearing sloppiness to the proceedings, as do his desperate whines and muttered entreaties to his absent mother, "Don't worry dear, Mommy is right here," I purr hungrily, tightening my fleshy embrace in emphasis, "Just let Mommy take care of everything..." And a fresh surge of precum shows his enthusiastic agreement with that sentiment. How endearing.
He moans for me, moaning for his Mommy, moaning for release, his words slurring as his mind melts under the tender caress of my breasts. I encourage him, urging him to hold on for Mommy, all while pampering his cock with ever greater vigor, I want him to finish before his climax wanes from heavenly to simple relief. He begs, oh how he begs. His balls clenching painfully, his shaft spasming from the sheer size of the load getting exquisitely pushed through it, doing his best to hold back even as it cataclysmically approaches. How sublime. So I urge him to let go, "Let it all out for Mommy," I sigh lovingly while I bury his manhood in my chest, "There you go, good boy. Goooood booooy," he practically sobs with pleasure while his seed erupts into my cleavage, his entire body writhing with every spurt, clutching weakly at me for support as he doubles over from the force of his orgasm. Drool trickles down onto my head as he gurgles plaintively, his brain unable to comprehend anything but the fountain of stimulation coursing from his cock, and still he continues to unload.
By the time he finishes, it looks as if a glass of yogurt had been dumped over my tits, a truly impressive quantity of semen baptizing the site of his lost virginity. I leave him there, head lolling, giving him a faint kiss upon his forehead to show my appreciation of his efforts, sliding my breasts back into the tight confines of my dress. One does not wander around topless at such a cultured party after all, though I proudly display his load upon my pushed up chest. My sudden exit disturbs the roost of girls who had been spying upon us while I ravished their purported amour, the pair of them glaring furiously at me for claiming their crush. I noticed their outraged observations from the start, not that I minded of course, what was the point of an affair if others could not watch? I have a wicked thought to turn about then and there and claim his virginity with my pussy, to spite the little lovebirds, but I resist the thought. No doubt by tomorrow morning he will be balls deep in one of them, his mind filled with disappointment that her hole does not measure up to the pure bliss of my breasts. So instead I hush them each with a finger, smearing his cum across their lips as I breeze by. One of them looks thoughtful, the other disgusted.
Feeling rather pleased with myself, I rejoin the main event, preening as eyes linger upon my curvaceous form, and the bountiful offering spread across them. It is not long before a group of suitors petition me, their wives and paramours feigning jealousy behind them, and I gladly join them in a nearby alcove. Within a minute I am on my knees, after five I am being penetrated in every hole, before fifteen have passed, the ladies join in the fun.
What can i say? Despoiling virgins excites me greatly...
If you are one of the believers in someone radically changing, look no further than Kim Chaewon. Since joining Le Sserafim, she has undergone a radical change, shedding her previously cute image in favor of a fierce, fallen angel one. With that image rebranding, not only did Chaewon get bolder in front of regular audiences, but she has also turned into a sexual freak behind four walls, as you could witness the first time you met her after joining Le Sserafim.
Chaewon's depravity now knew no limits, as she added more and more kinks to her arsenal. Her personal favorite was having any kind of sex with a rope dangerously wrapped around her neck, which she decided to show you with a little solo show in the dark bedroom, where you two were now together, as she placed her left hand under the panties of her sexy lingerie and started fingering herself for you to watch.
"Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh," her moans as she fingered her pussy were music to your ears. The way she moved her mouth while searching for air and overstimulating herself was so sexy. Her eyes rolled, but she never lost control of the rope at any time, even if her body now contorted into multiple orgasms. Chaewon just closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride to paradise. Or maybe, in her dirty thoughts, straight to hell. She twisted and turned as if she were being electrocuted, but her hand never left her clit for even a second.
When Chaewon entered the final stage of her earth-shattering orgasm, her head started falling out of the bed, leading to the illusion that the rope had hanged her. As Chaewon's hand finally detached from her pussy, her body lied on the bed for a few seconds as if she were dead. You sure thought she was, getting up from the chair while you were watching her performance to check her pulse. There was a reason Chaewon only tried this move in someone else's company, after all.
At the same time you went in Chaewon's direction, the door started to bang. Her pulse looked fine as you checked it, but she remained unmoved ever since finishing her orgasm. It was an act all along. As Chaewon heard the banging door, she was suddenly brought back to life and detached the rope from her neck, flipping her body around to face you while picking up a cigarette to smoke. "Are you gonna let my guests in or not?" she asked.
In many ways, Kim Minju is the polar opposite of Chaewon. She hasn't undergone any rebranding since her days in Iz*one were over, still relying on her beauty and her cute, girlfriend-esque image to define her public persona and always playing it safe. Her recent vacation in Hawaii with Eunbi was a good example: while her older groupmate was taking bold photos in bikinis and showing herself swimming, Minju was fully clothed every single time she showcased herself while on vacation.
Despite those differences, Chaewon and Minju were still as close as ever. The radical change in her former groupmate didn't alienate Minju; it rather made her curious. So much so that she accepted Chaewon's invitation to be her guest in an experience she had never been part of before.
Chaewon greeted Minju already in lingerie while smoking yet another cigarette as she looked at Minju's beautiful face and her manager along with her, just as Chaewon had requested. "Make yourself at home," she said. Minju was modest as always, wearing a black dress while her manager was still wearing work attire. Minju at first didn't know how to react, looking at her manager for a green light. "Go on, follow me," Chaewon said, encouraging her former groupmate.
Minju walked and sat on the bed. Chaewon had just "died" a couple minutes ago. The sun was starting to shine on this cold February day, making Chaewon's lingerie glow as it hit the dorm's curtains. Her manager followed and was going to sit as well until Chaewon interrupted him.
"Just her," she commanded. Reluctantly, Minju's manager moved closer to the chair where you were still sitting as Chaewon walked the room and stared at Minju, always in awe over her ethereal beauty, before she started asking her questions.
"Do you like to be dominated?" Chaewon asked. "Yes." Minju gave her a timid answer as Chaewon continued to interrogate her. "What's your safe word?" she then asked. "Fox," Minju said. "That sounds too similar to fuck; you need to change it," Chaewon instructed her. "Pepe," she said. "And how do you want to be dominated today?" Chaewon continued as she kept slowly walking. "I like to be spanked," Minju replied, sensing the perfect opportunity. Her porcelain skin was still a little red from the vacation in Hawaii, so she felt like it would be an extra challenge.
"Great," Chaewon approved her choice, sitting along with Minju and looking at her right in the eye before grabbing Minju by the Chin with her right hand as they looked at each other face-to-face. She gave Minju a soft slap that made her close her eyes, then took a look at her pouty lips, ruining Minju's lipstick as she ran her hand over it.
"Ready to join us?" Chaewon asked you as she smoked a little more. You stood up and headed towards both, followed by Minju's manager, before Chaewon stepped ahead. "Not you, just him," she said to the manager, who now took your place in the chair. You put your finger on Minju's mouth, looking to make her your submissive toy from the start. Chaewon caressed Minju's hair, trying to make her feel at home. Minju looked frightened as you towered over her, making your presence very intimidating.
You pushed Minju's body onto your lap, fully exposing her bare legs for Chaewon to see as her dress got lifted. Her skin was already ultra-red around her ass, indicating that she indeed wore a bikini in Hawaii but just never showed it. The outer lips of Minju's tasty pussy were already popping out. Her manager looked in disbelief as she watched a bent-over Minju look extremely submissive.
"Tell him when to hit," Chaewon tells Minju, whose eyes look regretful now. "Hit," Minju says as you follow her command with a hard spank that makes her roll her eyes in pain. Minju asks again, and you strike her just as hard, this time on the right cheek instead of the left. Minju takes a while to repeat the command, giving you some time to run your right hand over her ass. Once you hit her, she lets out the first moan from her mouth. As Minju feels more prepared, you continue to strike, and she continues to moan. You grab her arm as she lets out a smile at the next spank, your hand already making a full imprint on her red ass.
Minju decreases the interval between strikes, telling you to hit more times. Her butt looks extremely swollen, and you have barely started. You lift her dress a little, allowing Chaewon to see Minju's rarely-shown belly button. Minju now feels very satisfied at every hit; she wasn't lying when she said she liked to be spanked after all. Chaewon stands up as she gives Minju a little strike before turning away to search for her ashtray to put another fully smoked cigarette. She goes back to give Minju a couple hits as the pretty girl recognizes Chaewon's softer hands in her ass. Chaewon then takes the initiative and becomes the lead striker, before pushing Minju away from your lap and moving towards the next act.
Chaewon gives Minju a kiss as both of you run your hands all over her dress. The fully clothed torso of Minju contrasts with the barely clothed one of Chaewon. But you're about to level them as you start slowly taking Minju's dress off and groping her little tits as she is braless, while Chaewon wraps her strong hands around Minju's face to kiss her. Chaewon also pokes Minju's boobs before she pushes her closer to you to kiss Minju. The bikini marks on Minju's chest are fairly visible, as her pale skin around her boobs contrasts with the redder one on her beautiful collarbones and chest.
You grab Minju by her neck with your veiny hands, putting her knees on the floor. Chaewon unhooks your belt and wraps it around Minju's neck, never missing a chance to show what her favorite kink is. Chaewon tightens the belt but keeps it just loose enough to not suffocate Minju, using it like a dog collar. You unzip your pants and point your erection towards Minju's princess's face. Your uncut cock already looks very intimidating, even though only the tip is out of the foreskin.
Chaewon leads your boner to Minju's mouth, and she licks her chops as soon as her unnie does it. Chaewon knows Minju is no saint and that her cute image is just a facade that falls as soon as she senses the smell of a dirty cock. You push your erection a little up, and Minju immediately follows, reacting like she's a robot programmed to please a man's meat. Chaewon giggles as you shove your cock in Minju's mouth and grab her by the back of the head.
"How tight is her mouth, baby?" Chaewon asks as Minju closes her eyes and throats your manhood. Just a few slow but deep thrusts in her throat are enough for her to gag, but the cock that emerges out of her mouth now's got a throbbing tip that can no longer be contained under your foreskin. "Deeper," Chaewon says as you now fuck Minju's pretty face, who looks overwhelmed, especially her cheeks, which seem as if they are about to burst every time your cock hits them. Chaewon takes your cock in her mouth to show Minju how it's done, bobbing her head before getting face-fucked and emerging with a smile as soon as she gags.
Minju can only watch in awe of how hard you fuck Chaewon's face, like she's just a gloryhole. And Chaewon loves every second of it, grabbing your butt as she pushes her mouth closer to your crotch. Chaewon then grabs Minju's head and provides the support you need to freely fuck the beauty's face. A large pop comes out of Minju's lips once you're done. "Give me your face," you demand of her as you slap your cock on Minju's beautiful, porcelain skin, giving special attention to her red cheeks.
"Lick my balls," you ask Minju, who descends down your crotch while you now fuck Chaewon's mouth. Minju's lips bring a lot of friction to your sack as Chaewon slurps all over your prick. "Spit on her face," you ask Chaewon right after finishing the sloppy facefuck, as she shares her saliva with Minju. You grip Minju by your belt and give her the roughest throatfuck yet. You further humiliate Minju, sitting on her cute face as you ask her to rim your dirty butthole while you pound Chaewon's insatiable throat, and then keep switching between their tight facial entrances to warm your cock up.
"Ass up," you ask Minju, who follows and buries her face on Chaewon's thighs, who giggles as you start turning her rope into a whip, rotating it to spank Minju's already red butt. Chaewon laughs like a psychopat, enjoying Minju's suffering as she adds to it, slapping both hands on Minju's ass. "You told me you liked to be spanked," she recalls.
Once you're done whipping her, you take out Minju's little thong, the final piece of fabric still on her body. With her now fully naked, you don't hide your intentions. "She's got such a great ass. I wanna fuck her," you say, soon turning your words into action as you plow into Minju's tight slit. Chaewon removes the support from her lap, letting Minju fend for herself as you pound her at a 90-degree angle, while Chaewon whispers words in Minju's ear.
"Little whore likes that big cock, doesn't she?" Chaewon asks Minju, who doesn't answer because she's too busy with a raging bull impaling her. "Fuck that pussy," Chaewon commands to you just as you pause to lube your dick with Chaewon's mouth. After some extra poundings, you take Minju out of her submissive cocksleeve position just to spit on her pretty face before choking her with your belt.
"Come on, get on the bed," you and Chaewon ask Minju as both of you continue to play the dominant couple. Chaewon helps lift Minju's legs over her head and position her on a mating press in the bed. You put your cock back on Minju's perfect pussy, giving her slow thrusts that reach all the way deep inside her and make your cock bulge on Minju's belly. Then you increase the pace while both you and Chaewon choke Minju. You use your hands while she uses her always-at-hand rope.
Minju rests on Chaewon's breasts as you go back to intensely fucking her. "Do you like that?" you ask Minju. "Yes, I like that," she answers back. "Then let me do this," you say as you stick a pair of fingers on Minju's clit, wanting for her to squirt. "She saw me squirting a river one day and now wants every girl to do that," Chaewon says. Little showers come out of Minju's vagina, which are a sign for you to go back in.
You now slap Minju's face as her moans turn into a fox-esque squeal. "Look at this big cock inside you," you tell Minju, enjoying that bulge under her belly. Chaewon wants a piece of it as she laughs at your face. "Go harder," she says, which leads you to violently choke her. "Who are you to give me orders?" you say. "The other dominant half," she replies.
"AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," Minju screams as you once again penetrate her with your fingers, this time managing to be much more successful in making her squirt. "That pussy is so wet," Chaewon says as Minju starts to lose her breath, especially as you grab her neck much harder now. Minju's belly muscles start to contract, and you place your hands in her clit, stimulating her while you stretch her pussy out. As soon as you stop a little to eat Minju out, her body starts having spasms as your tongue searches for her best spots to cum.
You aren't done yet as you destroy Minju balls deep like she's your personal fleshlight. Chaewon rests her body on top of Minju's, ready to taste that wet pussy from your cock as soon as you please. Of course you had to give it to her in the only way it could please Chaewon's insatiable sexual appetite: by fucking her face. Minju now tries to silence her increasingly out-of-breath moans by placing Chaewon's fabric in her mouth, but it's useless. Her pussy is so stretched out that anything can send her over the moon now.
You continue to take turns between Minju's vagina and Chaewon's face until you grab Chaewon and look at her devilish smile following a facefuck. "You're the best; come here and get some more." You reward Chaewon for her insane appetite as your meat continues to pound her throat. You then switch back to Minju, using your right hand to shut her fucking mouth up while you rub Chaewon's body, trying as much as possible not to cum earlier and not break the promise that Chaewon made to Minju's member that they wouldn't cum inside her. Instead, they would make her insides cum.
"NOOOOOO!" Minju screamed as you now put your full hand in her pussy to make it squirt. Minju nearly had thoughts of saying her safe word and making you stop, but they passed as the heat your hands put in her pussy settled down. But you were a gentleman and rewarded Minju's cumming with a kiss, plus a taste of it as your right hand now fisted her mouth. "Lick it. Tell me how it tastes," you asked her. "So good," Minju replied.
You have now set your sights on Chaewon. "Come here, turn around, please," you tell her as you pull Chaewon's panties down. She closes her legs and puts her ass up, giving you a perfect view of her puffy slit, giggling as you sniff and blow air into her pair of fuckholes. "Look at this slut, always laughing," you say as Chaewon gets louder. "Give me, give me your cock," she demands with a smile on her face.
You answer her immediately, penetrating Chaewon as your hands firmly grab her ass. "Please, please, give it to me," she continues to beg as you pump her cunt faster. Minju appears back on the frame to serve you as the submissive fucktoy, resting her head on Chaewon's left buttcheek. You then take turns performing a hole-switching between Chaewon's pussy and Minju's mouth, taking one deep thrust at each every time. You fuck Minju's face to get your cock wetter for Chaewon, earning her approval. "That's how a good boy does it," she says.
"Give it to me, fuck my pussy," she keeps repeating as you now grab her neck and push her face closer to you for some kisses. Chaewon talks louder than she moans; so far, your fast pumpings have just been easy peasy lemon squeezy to her, especially compared to Minju. "You mean like that?" you say as you hammer her harder. "YES!" Chaewon finally elevates her tone, sticking her tongue out to show how pleased she is as you finally take her bra off.
Chaewon rests her head on the bed as you increase the pumping, grabbing her by the suspender belt—the only part of her lingerie, besides her stockings, which she never takes off, that's still on. "Come on, harder," she says as you use Minju's mouth to help you again, and she coughs on your big cock. Seeing Chaewon is hard to please with just a cock in her pussy, you resort towards your main dom trick and start stomping on her head, but even your big foot smashing her face does little to deter Chaewon's insatiableness.
Minju can only watch as you now fuck Chaewon like an animal. "Come on, stomp on my face. So you wanna be the boss? Show me you got it. Fuck that pussy hard," she invites the challenge as you ragdoll her. That big cock hitting her cervix many times a second finally makes Chaewon moan. "Deeper, harder; give me all of it; come on," she says. You have a lot of stamina, but Chaewon is such a physical freak that even a guy like you gets fully drained by her unmatched intensity. Chaewon smiles and moans with her tongue out as you replace your foot with your hand on her face to get a deeper penetration of her pussy.
Chaewon is now bent at a straight angle, and so is your cock while penetrating her; that combination finally allows her to get what she wants. But you would rather not get drained just with her and leave nothing for Minju, as the moment you see the young beauty following her unnie's footsteps and putting her ass up, you switch to fucking her instead.
It's much harder for Minju, as just a pair of pumps has her screaming. Chaewon barks in pleasure, watching her fucktoy get impaled once again and having it hard with something that was just regular play to her. You still pay attention to Chaewon's perfect butt, spanking it and fingering her easily accessible cunt while breaking Minju apart.
"AHHHHHH~" Minju screams as you stick your cock balls deep in her pussy, staying with them fully inside her for a long time. That makes her legs weak, meaning she can't put her ass up anymore, getting her body pressed against the bed in a prone-bone position. As you take your fingers off Chaewon's fuckholes, you spank her butt and give her a kiss. "So do you like watching your little toy get fucked like that?" you ask her after the kiss. "Hell yes," Chaewon responds.
You push Minju to the edge of the bed and put her on her knees to pound her doggystyle. Chaewon moves toward the place in the dorm's bed that Minju once was, giving you a perfect view of her sexy tits as she starts masturbating herself to you fucking Minju. "Oh my God," Minju says as you muffle her mouth and stretch her out fast and hard, to the point she can barely hold onto the bed as Chaewon stares at her and just enjoys the show.
Chaewon spreads her legs as you push Minju's face towards her unnie's craving cunt. "Good girl," she says as Minju's tongue hits her clit. You make sure that Minju's beautiful face stays buried there as you choke her while she tries to dive under Chaewon's folds. Minju's tight pussy, breedable hips, and the speed you fuck her get you close to release, which earns Chaewon's disapproval. "Do not cum yet," she says.
You have to pull out of Minju's pussy to hold yourself as you look drained and struggle to breathe, pleasing her pussy shortly after to repay her for such a good fucking. You three engage in an oral train as Minju is still eating Chaewon's slit, now moaning every time you tongue it deep into her own's. Chaewon giggles as you eat Minju out, making her increase the speed at Chaewon's pussy, clinging to it as her last way of surviving your tongue hitting her folds. Chaewon loves it, moaning more than she ever did when you were the one fucking her.
You go back to Minju's pussy, sensing that the more she clings to eating Chaewon's cunt as a coping mechanism, the better she gets. But Chaewon loves to test her and detaches her pussy away from Minju's grasp, leaving her all by herself to take the rough pounding you now give her, only going back to grab Minju's hair and get a privileged view of her face stuggling as you destroy her pussy. You finish Minju with a deep fingering that finally, after resisting your first two attempts, makes her squirt a river into the bedsheets.
With Minju still recovering from her orgasm, you keep the heat in her wet pussy and eat her out. You tied your belt around her thighs to keep them close as you put your cock back in her tight pussy, while Chaewon lifted Minju's cute face straight into her tits for her to suck it. Soon, you two were teaming up on her, with Chaewon grabbing Minju's neck while you pinched her nipples. Minju grinded her teeth, overwhelmed by the way you two attacked her. Minju grabbed her ass and then yelled. "PLEASE DON'T STOP.".
Chaewon grossed her legs on top of Minju's face, smothering it with her thighs as the younger girl dove back into her pussy, with a little helping hand shoving her, before going face to face with her and asking, "Are you enjoying being our little fucktoy, Ming?". "Yes." Minju nodded while struggling with the heat you were still putting in her little pussy. Chaewon ran her fingers on Minju's chin as she wanted to watch the pretty girl moan up close before letting Minju suck her thumb as she kept moaning.
"You want him to take you deeper?" Chaewon asked. Minju just nodded this time. "Tell him," Chaewon kept pressuring. "Please, fuck me deeper," Minju says, already very out of breath. "Come here," you promptly answer her, pushing Minju out of bed, taking off your belt from her thighs, and getting her to stand. Your cock now hits her deep in the cervix while you finger her pussy with both hands, and Chaewon just watches and takes the bed all by herself.
Minju gets clapped hard as your balls make a loud noise every time you thurst into her pussy. Even her little tits now bounce like pinballs. "AHHHHH," she says, feeling the heat and placing her right hand at yours, implying you should go easier. But without saying, you two can't understand, as Chaewon now grabs her neck. The bikini marks from her vacation glow as the sun hits the curtains more intensely.
"Show your manager how much of a fucktoy you are," you say as you turn Minju's body around and let her face her manager and manhandle her in front of him. He has to keep his composure, but the truth is, he's nearly creaming his pants. Chaewon giggles as she watches poor Minju get destroyed like a defenseless damsel. You three now get close as Chaewon stands up and grabs Minju while you keep pounding her, as both your left hand and Minju's now rest on her pussy.
Minju continues to get mauled in front of her manager as Chaewon enjoys every second of it. "You like to watch her get fucked, don't you?" she says as the manager remains silent. "ANSWER IT," Chaewon demands of the manager, who can only say "yeah" as Minju now clings to his legs while still being destroyed like a fucktoy. Chaewon taps Minju's ass and rests her head on her back, looking at you naughtily. "Open your mouth and eat her ass," you ask her, diving her head on Minju's butt as Chaewon sticks her tongue out to lick her former groupmate's butthole, enjoying a perfect view of Minju's pussy being stretched out.
You once again perform your classic pussy-to-mouth switcheroo between Chaewon and Minju, making the former laugh once you're ready to pound Minju more and more. Chaewon spits on your dick and gropes Minju's ass cheeks as the younger beuty turns into a moaning mess. "Come to me," you ask Chaewon while Minju is still on all fours, completely neutralized and submissive. She's not going to be able to walk for the next few days.
Chaewon gets ready to sit on your cock as Minju turns around to watch her unnie's upcoming wild ride, still on her knees and very sore. "Turn around," you tell Chaewon. "Ohhh, uhhhh," she moans in anticipation as you fully impale her. You grab Chaewon by her ass and push your cock up her cunt under Minju's watchful eye. "Lick my balls, lick those fucking balls," you ask Minju, who dives between your legs as you push Chaewon's butt slightly upwards to let Minju have a full view of your shaft. Chaewon keeps throwing words of incentive to fuck her harder as you pump her hole faster and she rests her body on your torso.
You lock Chaewon's arms behind her back. "Please, please, fuck me harder," she demands. "I love fucking that pusssy so much," you tell her after kissing her tenderly. "AHHHH FUCK," you are the first to scream as your fast poundings and Minju's mouth on your balls get you close and force you to calm down, but not for long as Chaewon gets more demanding as you resume pounding her while sucking her perky tits. "Deeper. Harder," she keeps saying. You spank her ass, choke her, and pinch her nipples as you get rougher on her, trying to match Chaewon's demanding style. It seems like too much cock is never enough for her.
"I want all of it," Chaewon says. "Then take it, you fucking slut, every inch of it in your cunt," you angrily reply to her as your cock hits her cervix. But Chaewon is indeed antifragile and takes advantage of your little pause to take control of the ride and start bouncing full speed on your big pole.
You shove Chaewon to the side to not cum prematurely. "Lick it," you tell Minju, who rims your asshole and calms you a bit. But Chaewon comes back right where she left off, sitting on your face and grabbing your cock intensely as you two are now engaged on a 69. You try to fuck her face, but Chaewon and her mouth of steel successfully defeat you, with her taking your cock fully deep in her throat and not letting it out. You start to scream again and hold her as hard as you can by the waist. Minju sniffs your balls, and you keep pushing up Chaewon's throat to free yourself from her, but she doesn't bend an inch.
Chaewon only lets you off the control of her throat to talk to Minju, but she is still grabbing your shaft. "Hmmm, yeah, you like licking his balls?" she asks. Minju nods in agreement. "You like being a good little slut?" she continues. "Yes, ma'am," Minju replies in a way that feels like she's almost worshipping Chaewon. "Then go get my rope; go get it," Chaewon replies as she slaps Minju's porcelain face and makes it red.
"Do you want more?" Chaewon giggles as she puts her back against the bed. "Yes, I fucking want more," you say. That woman is getting on your nerves. Sex seems so easy to her. You fuck her like a raging animal, yet she barely flinches. Minju brings the rope, as asked. Chaewon is more satisfied than ever as she ties it around her neck. You put Chaewon's feet in your mouth and pound her in a hardcore missionary, while she slowly wraps the rope fully around her neck.
"Get on the bed," Chaewon tells Minju as she also wraps the youngster around her rope. Your hands hard-fingering Chaewon's cunt and the rope choking her are finally what make her cave and start moaning. "Oh, I love it, I love it, I love it," she says. You start teasing Chaewon's pussy, going in and out of it as you sense her getting more sensitive. "AHHHHH!" she yells as your cock hits the depths of her vagina. Chaewon starts to beg as you grope her boobs and manhandle her. For the first time, you're the real boss, as she grinds her teeth at each pounding your manhood prescribes on her pussy.
Your balls clap hard on her skin while you make fast movements on Chaewon's clitoris, playing with it like a musician playing with the strings of a guitar. "Make that pussy cum," she is still able to demand despite looking as weak as ever. Your whole hand now rests over her clit, making aggressive moves in search of that fallen angel nectar. "OHHHH. OHHHHH. OHHHHH." For the first time, Chaewon turns into a screaming machine; her hard walls clench and start to fall apart.
Chaewon grabs your neck and asks for more, but this time you show her who's in control, as she gets double choked by your hands and the rope. Minju is now merely a spectator of you two's debauchery, as she barely feels her legs after a pounding that looked easy compared to the one Chaewon is taking. Chaewon grunts, and you answer in the same manner, blowing off steam at her slutty, choked face.
"Give it to me," she keeps asking like usual, now with her legs fully spread and her toes going over her head. You could punish her with a surprise cumshot in her cunt right now but decide to have some mercy, instead bringing Minju back to action as you two team up to eat Chaewon's pussy and get her even weaker. Chaewon is strong enough to choke Minju using her legs, but two tongues working her throbbing folds still make her moan as hard as she ever did.
You make eye contact with Minju and give her kisses between the licking you two are performing. You are falling in love with Minju's ethereal beauty. Meeting the love of your life on top of her former groupmate's pussy is a story you don't see often. You stick your cock back inside Chaewon but now treat her as just an audition to impress Minju, who watches it up close with her head still wrapped around Chaewon's legs. As Chaewon asks you to go deeper, you shove your entire cock inside her, not even sparing your balls.
"All the way," Chaewon demands. And you will go all the way, treating Chaewon like a fucktoy, just like the way she treats all her sex partners. "Give me all your cock," Chaewon continues to demand. You give all your cock, but not to her. "Open your mouth," you ask Minju, who stretches her beautiful lips out to receive the juices of her unnie first hand. Minju gets fucked in the face just enough for you to resume the rampage on Chaewon.
You press Minju's head against Chaewon's belly, making her feel the fire under it. You stick your cock balls deep once more inside that insatiable whore, making her scream as you reach her cervix as you feed Minju right after. Chaewon laughs as you use your wrath and frustration to destroy Minju's pretty face. You push yourself to the floor and drag Chaewon alongside you, plowing her cunt in front of Minju's manager. "Harder, harder, harder," she begs as her tits jiggle at each pounding.
Minju's manager is the one enjoying it the most, as he gets to enjoy an extremely sexy view starting with Chaewon and Minju's heads locked at each other, their hairs very messy, going down Chaewon's bouncy tits as she gets plowed down low with your huge stick, her legs fully spread like a crab while you finger her clit with both your thumbs. The manager can't resist such visual overstimulation and cums without touching himself.
"You like watching it?" Chaewon asks the manager just as he finishes bursting a huge load on his trousers. "Tell me, use your words?" she keeps pushing in between moans. Chaewon is now the one auditioning as she pulls out of your cock and sits on your face, getting close to the manager and attempting to seduce him as she points her milky tits and moaning face right in his sights. As she groans harder, she finally gets a positive response from the manager.
Chaewon giggles but is quickly interrupted by the pressure you put on her pussy. "OHHHHH FUCKKK!" she screams as you lead her to finally have an orgasm in front of Minju's manager. You try to take advantage of it by resuming pounding Chaewon and choking her harder using the rope you now hold with your left hand, but she quickly shuts it down and just enjoys your hard and deep thrusts. "Harder," she says, going back to asking.
You asphyxiate Chaewon with the rope and slap her tits; that only turns her into more of a sex demon. Despite you choking her, she's the one who takes control of the ride and gives you yet another close call. "FUCK!" you scream as you kick Chaewon back up to the bed, putting her body upside down while you demand Minju to lick her pussy. You two finally manage to tame Chaewon as her face is buried on Minju's hips while yours are in her insatiable cunt.
"You want that cum?" Chaewon asks Minju as you free her for one last rodeo. "Tell us you want it," she keeps saying. Minju sticks her tongue out, signaling to you that she's begging to taste that cum. "Are you gonna give her the cum or not?" Chaewon provokes you as you grope her tits.
"Cover me in your cum; show how much you love us," Chaewon says. As much as she got on your nerves, you can't say no to such a sex goddess as you ejaculate your semen all over her body, paying special attention to hitting her mole and her boobs the most. Chaewon drains your balls before you can even spare a load for Minju, who has to lick her unnie's sexy body to taste your protein, which Minju does perfectly, filling her cute mouth and pretty face with sperm.
"Good girl," Chaewon tells Minju as she licks and kisses her nipples, which end up being her favorite spot. Minju gives your cock one last deepthroat, which helps her swallow most of your cum, leaving a few drops to swap with Chaewon as they kiss each other. You and Minju are extremely tired, both your genitalia throbbing in pain after such a long and hard sex session. It turns out Chaewon is just an insane woman, which is too much for you two to handle. Minju rests her head on your lap as you tenderly caress her, falling in love as both of you fall asleep on the bed.
But that sleep is short-lived. After 20 minutes or so, you and Minju open your eyes. The first thing Minju sees as she wakes up is her manager manhandling a woman and treating her like a dog, using a rope to choke her while she curses.
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