I like each position RV member prefers when they want to be bred, can you also make one for twice ?
Nayeon
Nayeon pushes you onto your back, straddling your hips with that bright, teasing grin. She prefers cowgirl when she wants to be bred. She controls the pace, grinds down on you slowly at first to feel every inch stretch her pussy.
You grip her waist as she sinks onto you, her tight heat swallowing your cock whole.
"Fill me up."
She rocks her hips in circles, breasts bouncing with each drop. Her nails rake your chest, urging you deeper. She leans forward, long hair curtaining your faces, kissing you messy while she rides harder.
"I want your cum so bad. Breed me right here."
You thrust up to meet her, hitting that spot that makes her gasp. Her pace quickens, thighs trembling as she chases her high.
"Don't pull out."
She demands, her pussy clenching around you. You feel her pulse, her body begging. One final grind and she has you spilling deep inside her cunt, flooding her. She stays seated, rocking gently to keep every drop in, smirking down at you.
"Good boy."
Jeongyeon
Jeongyeon pulls you close on the couch with her legs, until you're on top in classic missionary. She loves the weight of you pinning her, legs hooked over your shoulders for that deep angle when breeding is all she craves. You slide in slow, watching her eyes flutter shut.
"Harder."
She murmurs, hands on your back urging you on. Her walls grip tight as you thrust deep, pelvis grinding against her clit with every stroke.
"Breed me...give it all to me."
Her voice cracks with need. You pound steadily, feeling her pussy soak your cock more with each thrust. Her fingers dig into your shoulders.
"Deeper… I want to feel you cum inside."
You angle just right, hitting her cervix, and she arches, moaning low. Her cunt rhythmically tries to milk you for all you have. You burry yourself deep and shoot pulsing hot ropes into her. She holds you there, legs trembling.
"Stay… don't let a drop leak out."
Momo
Momo gets on all fours and arches her back perfectly. Doggy is her favourite for breeding because it lets you pin her down completely. Your hips flush against hers as you drive in from behind. You press over her, chest to her back, sliding your cock deep into her in one smooth thrust. She moans into the pillow, pushing back to meet you.
"Breed me like this… fill me up."
Her ass jiggles with each hard snap of your hips. You grip her waist, pounding relentlessly. The angle lets you go impossibly deep. She reaches back, spreading her cheeks wider.
"Right there...cum inside me."
Her body shakes as you grind against her spot. Her tight pussy pulls you over the edge. You groan, spilling thick and hot seed into her, flooding her cunt. She collapses forward, keeping you buried, rocking back lazily. Momo feels too full to say a word.
Sana
Sana loves spooning turned breeding. Just lying on her side, you behind her, one leg hooked over yours for easy access. She craves the closeness when she wants to be filled. You slide in from behind, arm around her waist, hand cupping her breast. She sighs happily, pushing back.
"Breed me slow… make it last."
You thrust lazy but deep, grinding circles inside her. She turns her head for messy kisses.
"I want your baby..."
Her hand guides yours between her legs, rubbing her clit as you pump steadily.
The build is torturous. Her moans are soft and cute. She makes her pussy clench around your cock, teasing you.
"Now… breed me now."
You speed up, burying yourself to the hilt inside her, and explode, pumping her full of cum, pulse after pulse.
Jihyo
Jihyo always demands you fuck her in a mating press whenever she's ovulating. Her legs folded back, pressing her tits together, knees by her ears, her pussy so close to her mouth, you could switch between both holes whenever you wanted.
Now, you pin her wrists above her head, your body weight folding her in half, thrusting deep and hard into her wet pussy.
"Take it all."
You groan, eyes locked on hers. Her body rocks with each powerful stroke, breasts bouncing.
"Fill me up. I need your cum so bad..."
She clenches tight, urging you on. You grind against her cervix, making her cry out.
Jihyo orgasms first. Her walls spasm around your cock, pulling your own release out of you. You flood her pussy with your cum, groaning as she milks every drop. Your cock paints her inner walls white, until she's almost overflowing. But with her hips raised like this, gravity helps you with keeping her full. Even after you pull out, she keeps her legs up, smirking at you.
"Not wasting any."
Mina
Mina prefers something slow, just like Sana. You sit cross-legged, her in your lap facing you, legs wrapped around your waist. It's intimate, eye-contact heavy when she wants to be bred softly but deeply.
She sinks down slowly, arms around your neck.
"Breed me… please."
You rock together, grinding deep, her forehead against yours. Her breaths hitch with each roll. Your entire cock is inside her snug pussy, barely moving. Just enough for both of you to feel a new level of pleasure.
"Inside… all of it."
You thrust up gently, hands on her ass guiding her.
She trembles in your lap, clenching to draw out your cum as she feels your cock pulsating inside her. You spill thick ropes of cum into her tight pussy, filling her completely, until tiny streaks of your semen start to leak out around your cock.
She stays seated, kissing you tenderly.
"It feels so warm…"
Dahyun
Dahyun moans as she continues to ride you in reverse. Her back is facing you. Her ass bounces as she rides your cock. She loves the control she has over you and the feeling of you enjoying the view.
She grinds eagerly, hands on your thighs.
"Cum in me...breed me good."
You grip her hips, thrusting up hard. Her moans turn needy, but the sound of her ass hitting your lap drowns them out.
"Deeper… fill me up."
She grinds down, circling her hips to feel you throb. Your hands wander to her ass, squeezing her cheeks. Dahyun's walls pulse around your shaft, and you can't hold it in a second longer. You let yourself spill your cum into her pussy. She doesn't stop moving, coaxing every single drop out of your body, until someone knocks on the door of her bedroom.
"Be there in a minute."
She calls out, before turning her head to look over her shoulder at you.
"What are you gonna do these next couple of hours, knowing your cum is filling my pussy while I'm at dinner with the girls?"
Chaeyoung
Chaeyoung loves to get carried around while you fuck her. Probably because of your size difference. She's so small in your arms, you can just pin her against a wall and breed her pussy. Her legs are locked around your waist, you holding her up for raw, urgent breeding. You thrust up hard into her, her back against the cool surface of the wall of Twice's dance practice room.
"Breed me rough."
She pants, nails in your shoulders. You are able to let go with one hand and move it up her body. Chaeyeong's eyes are wide open. The fact that you can carry her with one arm has her pussy dripping wet. Your free hand now slowly wraps itself around her throat. Each slam of your cock into her pussy makes her gasp.
"Cum inside your little fleshlight."
She whimpers, her entire body begging you to use her as a cum dump. You pound into her relentlessly, her body bouncing.
You unload deep insider her small body, groaning into her ear. She clings around you, her legs locked as she's helplessly pinned between you and the wall, unable to do much but take your load.
"Don't drop me."
She sighs and you're unsure if she's afraid you'll let her fall, or if she just wants to keep your cum locked inside her.
Tzuyu
Tzuyu loves how big your cock feels when she is lying on her back, both her legs over one of your shoulders. Her pussy squeezes you just a little tighter like that. And it enables you to use only one hand to hold her legs together, while the other reaches down to admire her smooth thighs, or play with her tits.
Right now, you even take it a step further by making her cross her legs in the air as you slide in slow. She bites her lip, eyes softly looking up at you with pure love.
"Breed me… please."
You thrust deeper, as a steady rhythm starts to build. Her hands clutch your arm.
"I'm already so full. I need it. Please..."
You angle for her g-spot, making her arch odff the mattress.
Tzuyu orgasms silently, trembling, milking your cock. Unable to hold back, you spill your cum deep inside her pussy. You stay buried there, both of you holding eye contact as Tzuyu feels your cum filling her womb.
The GPS had led you through winding, tree-lined roads for the last twenty minutes, each turn taking you deeper into a neighborhood that didn't feel like Seoul anymore. The mansions here didn't even try to blend in, they announced themselves with wrought-iron gates and stone walls, with security cameras that tracked your car's movement like predator eyes.
Your hands were slick against the steering wheel.
Senior Park had called this morning, his voice crackling through the phone with that particular brand of amusement he reserved for special assignments. "New client. Young. Recently married." A pause. "You've seen her face before."
You'd seen her face everywhere. Billboard in Gangnam. Subway advertisement for soju. The thumbnail of every third video on your YouTube feed. Karina. Yu Ji-min. The face of AESPA, the woman whose wedding had crashed three different entertainment news sites, whose husband, some shipping magnate's son had apparently decided that a wife was something you acquired, not something you maintained.
"That's the job," Senior Park had said. "She called us. Not the other way around. Remember that."
And now here you were, sitting in your Hyundai at the security gate of a house that looked more like a modern art museum, trying to remember how to breathe normally.
The gate buzzed before you could press the intercom.
A woman's voice, softer than you'd expected. "Come in. The front door is around the fountain."
The gate swung open.
The walk from your car to the front door took exactly forty-three steps. You counted them. Anything to keep your mind from spinning out. The fountain in the driveway was one of those minimalist things, a black stone slab with water sheeting down the sides. Classy. Expensive. The kind of thing you could stare at and feel nothing about.
Your professional training ran through your head like a checklist Senior Park had drilled into you months ago. Posture. Eye contact. Don't stare. Let her set the pace. The first meeting is always about making them comfortable enough to admit what they want.
But none of the training had mentioned what to do when Karina opened the door.
She wasn't wearing makeup. That was the first thing you noticed, not what you'd expected. Every image you'd ever seen of her was polished to a high gloss, stage-ready, camera-ready. The woman standing in the doorway had her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping at the temples. She wore an oversized gray sweater that hung off one shoulder, black leggings, bare feet on the marble floor.
And her face. Jesus Christ, her face.
The bone structure that launched a thousand fan edits. Lips that were slightly chapped, slightly parted. Eyes that held yours with something between curiosity and exhaustion.
"Come in," she said, stepping aside. "Take off your shoes."
You did. Brain on autopilot. The foyer was all white marble and indirect lighting, a staircase curving up into shadow. The house smelled like fresh laundry and something floral… lilies, maybe. A bouquet sat on a console table near the door, still wrapped in cellophane, the card unopened.
"I'm…" you started. "I know who you are." She was already walking toward what looked like a living room. "The agency sent me your file. Do you want something to drink?"
The living room was vast and somehow still felt empty. A sectional sofa big enough for twelve people. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a garden you couldn't see in the dark. No photographs on the walls. No magazines on the coffee table. It looked like a showroom, like no one actually lived here. "Water would be great," you managed.
Karina gestured toward the sofa. "Sit." She disappeared through an archway. You heard water running, the clink of glass. Your heart was doing something ridiculous in your chest—not racing exactly, more like it was trying to relocate to your throat.
The file Senior Park had given you was thin. Married eight months. Husband's name was Lee Joon-ho, heir to Lee Shipping & Logistics. According to the tabloids, he'd been spotted at clubs in Gangnam with actresses whose names you didn't recognize, while Karina attended industry events alone. The word "lonely" appeared in a lot of the articles, usually paired with photos of her looking wistful at award shows. "Here."
She was back, holding two glasses. One water, one something amber. Whiskey, maybe. Your eyes tracked the movement of her bare arm as she set the water down on the coffee table between you. "You're nervous," she said, settling onto the opposite end of the sectional. Not a question.
"A little."
"Why?"
Because you're Karina. Because every man in this country has fantasized about you. Because I'm sitting in your mansion and you're wearing that sweater and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my hands. "New clients are always nerve-wracking," you said instead. "For both of us."
Something flickered in her expression. Amusement, maybe. Or skepticism. She took a sip of her drink—whiskey, definitely—and let her head rest against the back of the sofa. The movement exposed the long line of her throat, the delicate architecture of her collarbones where the sweater had slipped. "How long have you been doing this?"
"A year."
"And before that?" You hesitated. The training said honesty was valuable, but only in measured doses. "I was a personal trainer. Senior Park recruited me. Said I had the right… temperament."
"Temperament." She said the word like she was tasting it. "Is that what they call it?" The silence stretched. Outside, wind rattled something against the glass—a branch, probably. The house was so quiet you could hear the refrigerator humming from two rooms away.
"Why did you call the agency?" you asked. Karina's gaze slid toward you. "Aren't you supposed to know the answer to that?"
"I'd rather hear it from you." Another sip of whiskey. Her throat moved as she swallowed. "The agency brief didn't tell you?"
"It said you were recently married. It said your husband travels frequently for work."
"Travels." A short laugh, not especially warm. "Is that what they're calling it now?"
You didn't answer. Sometimes silence was the best tool you had. Karina set her glass down on the coffee table with a little more force than necessary. The sound echoed in the cavernous room. "He doesn't travel. He's in Seoul. He just doesn't come home." She was looking at the windows now, at her own reflection in the dark glass. "Three months. I've seen him three times in three months, and each time it was for less than an hour. Photo opportunities, mostly. His PR team coordinates them."
"That sounds lonely." Her jaw tightened. "Don't."
"Don't what?" "Don't do the sympathetic thing. I'm not paying for sympathy."
You shifted on the sofa, turning to face her more directly. "What are you paying for?"
The question landed differently than you'd intended. Karina's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment the mask slipped—the idol mask, the one she wore in every interview and variety show appearance. Underneath it was something rawer. Something hungry and furious and so tired of pretending. "I want to feel something," she said. "Something that isn't…" She gestured vaguely at the house around her. "This."
"This?"
"Empty." The word came out smaller than the others. She picked up her whiskey again, took a longer drink. "Everything in my life is scheduled and managed and presented to the public in exactly the right light. My marriage. My career. My face." Another drink. "I wake up in this house and I feel like I'm already a ghost. Like I'm haunting my own life." You watched her fingers tighten around the glass. The knuckles went pale.
"So when you ask what I'm paying for," she continued, "I'm paying for something real. Something that isn't polite. Something that doesn't treat me like I'm made of glass." The air in the room had changed. Thicker, somehow. Charged with something you couldn't name.
"Have you done this before?" you asked. "With anyone from the agency?"
"No."
"And you understand how this works? The boundaries, the rules—"
"I understand." She cut you off with a look that was almost defiant. "I read everything. I know about the safeword protocols. I know I can stop anything at any time. I know this isn't…" She paused, searching for the word. "Conventional."
"It's not," you agreed. "Which is why I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me."
Karina raised an eyebrow, and for a second you caught a glimpse of the stage persona, the one who commanded thousands with a single glance. "Ask."
"Are you sure you want this?" The question hung between you. Outside, the wind picked up again, and somewhere in the house a door creaked—settling, probably, or the air pressure shifting. Karina didn't look away from your face.
"Do you want me to prove it?" she asked.
"I want you to tell me." She was quiet for a long moment. Then she set her glass down again, stood up from the sofa, and walked toward you. Her bare feet made almost no sound on the marble floor. The sweater slipped further off her shoulder as she moved, revealing the strap of something black and lacy underneath. When she stopped, she was standing directly in front of you, close enough that you could smell her perfume—something light, citrus and white flowers—and underneath it, the clean scent of her skin. "I've been thinking about this for three weeks," she said. "Ever since I found the agency's number in a forum I wasn't supposed to be reading. Ever since I realized that the only person who's touched me in eight months is my makeup artist." Her voice was steady, but there was a tremor underneath it. "So yes. I'm sure. I want this."
She held out her hand. "I want you to make me feel something. I don't care if it hurts. I don't care if it's ugly. I want to stop being Karina for a few hours and just be… a body. A woman. Whatever is left of me when all of this"—she waved at the house, at the empty walls, at the unopened flowers—"isn't here anymore." Your pulse was a drumbeat in your ears. Her hand was still extended, palm up, waiting.
"Tell me your safeword," you said.
"Red."
"And if you can't speak?"
"Three taps. Anywhere you can feel them." You'd said the same words to half a dozen clients before her, but something about the way Karina recited them back—steady, rehearsed, like she'd practiced them in front of a mirror—made your chest tighten.
"Okay," you said. And you took her hand. Her skin was warm. Soft, the way you'd imagined, but there was strength in her grip too—the hand of someone who'd spent years in dance studios, who'd trained her body to do exactly what she wanted it to. She didn't flinch when you stood up, which brought you close enough that you could see the individual lashes framing her eyes, the tiny mole near her left eyebrow, the way her lips had parted slightly.
"Before we do anything," you said, "I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"This isn't about your husband. This isn't about revenge or filling a void or proving something to yourself." You kept your voice low, even. "This is about what you want. Right now. In this room. Nothing else exists." Karina's eyes searched your face. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, because something in her expression shifted—a loosening, a letting-go.
"Nothing else exists," she repeated.
"Good girl." The words slipped out before you could stop them, but the effect was immediate. Karina's breath caught. Her pupils dilated, just slightly. The hand in yours tightened its grip.
"That's what you want?" you asked. "To be good?"
"I want…" She swallowed. "I want to stop thinking. I want someone else to be in charge. Just for a while." You lifted your free hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. The movement was gentle, almost reverent, and it made no sense with the things you were about to do—but that was the point, wasn't it? The contrast. The collision of tender and brutal that would short-circuit her brain and give her exactly what she was asking for.
"Your bedroom," you said. "Take me there."
She led you up the curved staircase, her hand still in yours. The upstairs hallway was lined with doors, all of them closed except one at the far end. Soft light spilled out of it, and as you got closer you could see the corner of a bed—a huge bed, king-sized at least, with white sheets and too many pillows. The master bedroom. Karina's bedroom.
The room that her husband had probably not set foot in for months. She paused at the threshold, and for a moment you thought she might hesitate. Might change her mind. Might realize what she was about to do and decide it was too much, too fast, too far outside the carefully constructed image of Yu Ji-min, beloved idol, perfect wife.
Instead, she turned to face you. "What do you want me to do first?" The question was genuine. Not a test. She was waiting for you to take the reins, willing to hand over control before you'd even started.
"First," you said, stepping into the bedroom and pulling her gently after you, "I want you to take off that sweater." Karina's hands moved to the hem of the gray wool. The fabric lifted, revealing the black lace you'd glimpsed earlier—a bralette, delicate and expensive-looking, the kind of thing you wore when you wanted to feel beautiful even if no one else would see it. The sweater came over her head and dropped to the floor.
Her skin was luminous in the low light. Pale and smooth, with the kind of muscle definition that came from years of dancing—toned arms, a flat stomach that tensed as she breathed, the curve of her ribs just visible beneath the skin. "Now the leggings." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down, bending at the waist. The movement was efficient, not seductive, but it didn't matter—the sight of her body unfolding as she straightened up, the black lace of her underwear matching the bralette, the long lines of her legs.
You circled her slowly. She stood very still, the way she'd probably been trained to stand for fittings and stage checks, but there was a tremor in her thighs that she couldn't quite control. Anticipation. Maybe fear. Probably both. "Lie down on the bed," you said. "On your back."
Karina did as she was told. The mattress barely dipped under her weight—memory foam, probably, the kind that cost more than your monthly rent. She arranged herself in the center of the white expanse, arms at her sides, looking up at the ceiling. "Close your eyes." Her lashes swept down against her cheeks. The room was silent except for her breathing, which had gone shallow and quick. You stood at the foot of the bed and watched her. The rise and fall of her chest. The way her fingers curled against the sheets. The faint flush spreading from her neck to her collarbones.
"How do you feel?" you asked. "Exposed."
"Good." You moved to the side of the bed and sat down on the edge, close enough that your hip nearly touched hers. Karina's breathing hitched at the proximity.
"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"
A pause. "No." "I'm going to use you." The words came out rougher than you'd intended. "I'm going to take everything you're willing to give me, and I'm going to make you feel every second of it. Your body belongs to me tonight. Do you understand?"
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Yes."
"And you want that?"
"God, yes."
"Look at me." Her eyes opened. They were glassy already, the pupils blown wide. The composed idol from five minutes ago was already starting to dissolve, replaced by something more vulnerable and infinitely more real. "Your husband," you said. "Does he ever look at you like this?"
Karina flinched—a tiny movement, but you caught it. "No."
"Does he touch you?"
"No."
"Does he make you feel anything at all?" A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, tracking down her temple and into her hair. "No." You leaned closer. "Then forget him. Forget all of it. Right now, there's only me and you and what your body can take. Nothing else. No Karina. No Yu Ji-min. Just a woman who needs to be fucked like she matters."
The tears were coming faster now, but she wasn't sobbing—just leaking, silently, the release of pressure that had been building for months.
"Please," she said. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Make me forget." You stood up and began unbuttoning your shirt. Karina watched you through blurred vision, her chest rising and falling with breaths she couldn't seem to control. The black lace of her bralette had shifted, revealing the upper curve of her breasts, the skin there flushed and warm.
"Last chance to change your mind," you said, pulling your shirt off and letting it fall. Her eyes traveled over your chest, your arms, the line of your stomach. When she spoke, her voice was steadier than it had been.
"I'm not changing my mind."
"Good." You unbuckled your belt and pulled it free from the loops with a single smooth motion. The leather whispered against the fabric of your pants. "Because I'm just getting started." The belt was still in your hand. Karina watched it loop between your fingers, the leather dark against your palm. Her tears had left shiny tracks down her temples, disappearing into the hairline, and her breathing had gone shallow again—not from crying now, but from something else. Something that made her thighs press together on the white sheets.
“Sit up,” you said. She pushed herself upright, the bralette shifting as she moved. One strap slipped off her shoulder. She didn’t fix it. You folded the belt in half and ran your thumb along the smooth side. “You said you wanted to stop being Karina for a few hours.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going to take away your sight.” Her lips parted. A micro-flinch—not fear, not exactly. More like the body’s instinctive response to a cliff edge. The moment before the jump. “The blindfold,” you continued, “stays on until I take it off. If it becomes too much, you use the taps. Three of them. Anywhere you can reach me.”
“I know the rules.”
“I know you do.” You stepped closer, until your knees touched the edge of the mattress. “But I want to hear you say it. What happens if you need to stop?”
“Three taps.” Her voice was steadier now. “On you. Anywhere.”
“And what’s your word?”
“Red.”
“Good.” You reached down and brushed your knuckles along her jawline. The contact was feather-light, almost accidental. “Lift your hair.” She gathered the dark strands and held them up, exposing the nape of her neck. The movement arched her back slightly, pushed her chest forward. The black lace strained against her breasts. You brought the belt around her head. The leather was cool, supple from use. You positioned it across her eyes, careful not to catch her hair in the buckle, and pulled it snug against her temples. Not tight enough to hurt. Tight enough that she wouldn’t see anything but darkness.
“How does that feel?”
Karina exhaled. “Dark.”
“Can you see anything?”
“No.”
“Good.” You fastened the belt at the back of her head and let your fingers trail down the side of her neck as you withdrew. Her pulse hammered against your fingertips. “Now lie back down.” She lowered herself onto the mattress. The movement was different now—less controlled, more tentative. Without her sight, every shift of her body became a negotiation with the unknown. Her hands found the sheets and gripped them. You stood at the edge of the bed and looked at her. The idol that half of Korea fantasized about. The face on every billboard. Reduced to a blindfolded woman in black lace, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid cycles, her lips slick where she’d licked them.
“Spread your legs.” Karina’s thighs parted. The movement was slow, almost reluctant—but she did it. The matching black panties were cut high on her hips, the fabric thin enough that you could see the suggestion of her underneath. A dark shadow. A slight dampness already bleeding through.
“Wider.” She obeyed. Her knees fell open, exposing the full length of her. The panties pulled taut across her cunt. The outline of her lips. The little seam where they parted.
You didn’t touch her there. Not yet. Instead you climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself beside her. The mattress dipped under your weight, and Karina’s body shifted toward you instinctively—gravity pulling her toward the heat of your skin. “You’re going to use your mouth now,” you said. “And while you do, I’m going to play with these.” Your fingers found the strap of her bralette. You pulled it down. Then the other strap. The lace caught on her nipples for a moment—already peaked, already hard—before you tugged it free and let the fabric pool around her waist.
Karina’s breasts were full and pale, the nipples a dusty rose color that darkened at the tips. They stiffened further in the open air, and she made a small sound—something between a gasp and a whimper. “You like that.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“You like being blindfolded. You like not knowing what’s coming next.”
“I… yes.” You traced a circle around her right nipple with your fingertip. The skin puckered. Karina’s back lifted off the mattress.
“Don’t move,” you said. “Stay still and let me touch you.” She forced herself down. The effort was visible—her abdominal muscles tensed, her hands fisting in the sheets. You circled the nipple again, closer this time, and then you took it between your thumb and forefinger and squeezed. The sound she made was not a moan. It was a broken exhale, a noise that started in her chest and caught in her throat. Her hips bucked once—an involuntary spasm—and then she forced them still. “That’s it,” you murmured. “Let your body react. Don’t fight it.”
You rolled the nipple between your fingers, working it slowly. The texture was fascinating—the way it tightened and pebbled under your touch, the way the areola crinkled around it. Karina’s breathing had gone ragged. A flush was spreading down her chest, past her collarbones, toward the swell of her breasts. “Does your husband ever touch you like this?”
“No—” The word came out strangled.
“Does he know what your body does when someone pays attention to it?”
“He doesn’t… he never…”
“He never what?”
“He never touches me.” The confession was barely a whisper. “He never—ah—” You’d switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Roll. Squeeze. A gentle twist that made her gasp and arch before she remembered she was supposed to stay still.
“Then he’s a fool,” you said. “Because your body is extraordinary.” You leaned down and took her nipple into your mouth. Karina cried out. The sound was sharp and sudden, echoing in the vast bedroom. Your tongue laved across the tight bud, traced circles around the areola, and then you sucked—a long, pulling pressure that made her whole body go rigid.
“Oh—oh god—” Her hands came up, flailing in the dark, and found your shoulders. Her nails dug in. You didn’t tell her to stop. Instead you sucked harder, pulling the nipple deep into your mouth while your other hand continued working its twin—rolling, pinching, tugging in counterpoint to the rhythm of your tongue. She was making sounds now that had no words in them. Just vowels. Just broken, desperate vowels that rose and fell with the movement of your mouth. You released her nipple with a wet pop.
“Hands down,” you said. “We’re not done.” Karina’s fingers uncurled from your shoulders. She lowered her arms back to the bed. Her chest was heaving, both nipples now slick and swollen, darker than they’d been before. The blindfold had shifted slightly—just a millimeter—but she hadn’t tried to remove it. “Good girl. Now.” You unfastened your pants and pushed them down. Your boxers followed. “I want you to sit up. I want you on your knees. Can you do that?”
She nodded. The belt bobbed with the movement. Getting her upright was an exercise in trust. She couldn’t see the edge of the bed, couldn’t gauge the distance. You guided her by the shoulders—first into a sitting position, then turning her so her legs hung off the side of the mattress. “On your knees,” you said. “On the floor.” Karina slid off the bed. Her knees hit the hardwood with a soft thud. The position put her face level with your hips, and even though she couldn’t see you, she must have sensed your proximity, because her breath quickened. “You’re going to use your mouth now,” you said. “The way you’ve been thinking about since you first called the agency. The way you’ve imagined in this empty bed at night while your husband was god knows where.”
Her lips parted. Her tongue darted out, wetting them. “But you don’t get to use your hands. Not yet. Just your mouth. And while you work, I’m going to keep playing with your nipples. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” You guided yourself toward her mouth. The head of your cock brushed her lower lip—just a touch, just enough for her to feel the heat. Karina’s whole body shuddered. “Open.” She did. Her jaw dropped, and you pushed forward, sliding the tip past her lips. The inside of her mouth was hot. Wet. Her tongue met the underside of your shaft, tentative at first, then bolder—flattening against you, tracing the ridge of the head. You groaned. The sound was involuntary. “That’s it. Take more.”
She did. Her lips stretched around your girth, and you watched her jaw work as she accommodated the intrusion. There was no hesitation now—the blindfold had freed her from something. From the performance. From the expectation. From Karina Yu, the idol, and all the ways that identity constrained her. The woman kneeling on the floor was just a woman. A woman who wanted to suck cock. You reached down and found her nipples again. Both of them this time, one in each hand, rolling them between your thumbs and forefingers as she began to move.
Karina moaned around your shaft. The vibration traveled through you, up your spine, into the base of your skull. “Mmm—”
She pulled back, let her tongue swirl around the head, then pushed forward again—deeper this time. Her throat flexed. A gag reflex triggered, and she choked, but she didn’t pull away. She held herself there, breathing through her nose, letting her throat adjust to the intrusion. “Fuck,” you breathed. “You’ve done this before.” She couldn’t answer—her mouth was full—but the way she moved said everything. This wasn’t practice. This was muscle memory. Somewhere in her past, before the fame and the management and the carefully curated image, there had been a girl who knew exactly what to do with her mouth. You pinched her nipples harder. She whimpered. Bobbed her head. The wet sounds of her mouth filled the room—the slick slide of lips on skin, the soft suction when she pulled back, the obscene little pop when she reached the tip and let go for just a moment before diving back down.
“Look at you.” Your voice had gone rough. “The most famous woman in Korea. On her knees. Blindfolded. Choking on a stranger’s cock.” Karina’s response was a moan that vibrated through your entire shaft. She sucked harder. Faster. Her tongue worked the underside of your cock with the kind of precision that spoke to experience—flicking against the frenulum, tracing the vein that ran along the length, pressing flat and wide when she reached the base. You tugged her nipples in rhythm with her bobbing. Pull when she went down. Release when she came up. The coordination turned her body into an instrument—you played her nipples, and she played you with her mouth. Saliva dripped down her chin. It pooled in the hollow of her throat, ran in thin rivulets toward her collarbones. She was messy now. Undone. The composed idol from an hour ago was dissolving into something rawer and infinitely more beautiful.
“Deeper,” you said. “Take it deeper.” She pushed forward. Her throat constricted around the head of your cock—a tight, hot pressure that made your vision swim. She gagged again, harder this time, and you felt her throat spasm around you. “Stay there.” She held. Her shoulders trembled. A tear leaked from beneath the blindfold—not from crying, but from the physical reflex of her throat trying to expel the intrusion. The tear tracked down her cheek and mixed with the saliva on her chin. You released her nipples and cupped her face instead. Your thumbs traced the stretched line of her lips, the bulge of your cock visible through her cheek.
“You’re perfect like this,” you murmured. “Blind. Choking. Desperate. This is what you needed, isn’t it? To be used. To be nothing but a mouth.” Karina made a sound—half moan, half sob—and nodded as much as she could with your cock buried in her throat. You pulled back. Let her breathe. A thick strand of saliva connected her bottom lip to the tip of your cock.
“Don’t swallow yet,” you said. “Let it drip.” She obeyed. The saliva pooled and spilled, running down her chin and onto her chest. It made her skin glisten in the low light.
“Now use your hands. Both of them. Show me how you touch yourself when you think about this.” Her hands came up immediately—eager, almost frantic. One wrapped around the base of your shaft while the other cupped your balls. Her fingers were cool against the heat of your skin. She squeezed gently, testing the weight, and then her mouth was back on you—lips stretched wide, tongue working, throat opening. The blindfold was soaked now. Tears and sweat had darkened the leather around her eyes. You reached down and found her nipples again. Plucked them. Rolled them. Pinched them until she keened around your cock, the sound high and desperate. “You love this. You love being on your knees for a stranger. You love not being in control.”
“Mmmhmm—” The affirmation vibrated through your shaft.
“Say it. Pull off and say it.” She let you go with a gasp. Her lips were swollen, the color darkened to a deep rose. “I love it. I love being on my knees. I love—” She swallowed, her throat working. “I love not being in control.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Her blindfolded face tilted up toward your voice. “Because for once I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to be Karina. I can just be… this.”
“A mouth.”
“Yes.”
“A set of holes.”
She shuddered. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m a mouth.” Her voice cracked. “I’m a set of holes. I’m just—I’m just a body that wants to be used.” You stroked her cheek. “Good girl. Now open up.” She did. Her jaw dropped, tongue extended—a gesture of pure, shameless submission. You guided yourself back into her mouth and this time you didn’t let her set the pace. You fucked her throat with slow, deliberate thrusts, watching her lips stretch around you, watching her chest heave as she struggled to breathe through her nose.
Your hands never left her nipples. They were dark now, engorged, slick with the saliva that had dripped down from her chin. You twisted them in opposite directions and Karina screamed around your cock—a muffled, desperate sound that was swallowed by the column of flesh filling her throat. “Again.” Twist. Scream. Her thighs squeezed together, and through the thin black panties you could see her cunt clenching on nothing.
“You’re getting wet from this. From choking on a stranger’s cock while he twists your nipples.” She couldn’t answer. Could only whimper and bob her head and take it. You pulled her off again. She gasped, coughed, and then immediately tried to lean forward—to get you back in her mouth. You held her by the hair. “Not yet. I want to look at you.” Karina knelt there, chest heaving, lips swollen and slick, chin dripping. The blindfold was a dark slash across her face. Her nipples jutted out from the flushed mounds of her breasts, hard and dark and wet. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” you said. “And I mean that. Not Karina the idol. Not the image. This. Right here. A woman who finally stopped pretending.”
Her lips trembled. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me finish. Please let me taste you. Please—I need—I need to feel you—”
“You need to feel me come down your throat.”
“Yes.” The word was a sob. “Yes. Please. Use my mouth. Use my throat. I don’t care if I can’t breathe. I just want to feel it. I want to taste it. Please.” You guided her back onto your cock. She took you deeper than before—no hesitation, no slow build. She swallowed you whole, her nose pressing against your abdomen, her throat working around the intrusion like it was made for this. Made for you. Your hands found her nipples one last time. You pinched them hard—the hardest yet—and held the pressure as she sucked. Karina’s whole body convulsed. Her thighs pressed together so tightly that the muscles in her legs stood out in sharp relief. A muffled, keening sound escaped from somewhere deep in her throat. She was close. Even without touching her cunt, even without any stimulation below the waist—she was close. The nipple play and the blindfold and the degradation had wound her up to a breaking point.
You felt your own climax building. A tightening at the base of your spine. A coiling pressure that radiated outward. “I’m going to come,” you said. “And you’re going to swallow every drop. Do you understand?” Karina’s response was to suck harder. Her tongue worked the underside of your shaft, pressing and stroking in time with her bobbing. Her hand cupped your balls and squeezed—gently, then harder—and that was it. The orgasm hit like a punch to the spine. You groaned—a deep, guttural sound—and your hands tightened on her nipples as the first pulse of cum shot into her mouth. She swallowed. You felt her throat work around the head of your cock, milking you, drawing out every pulse. The second shot. The third. She took them all, her lips sealed tight around your shaft, not letting a single drop escape.
“Fuck. Fuck, Karina—” She pulled back just enough to let the last pulse land on her tongue. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed again, her throat moving in a long, deliberate gulp. When she finally released you, she sat back on her heels. Her chest was still heaving. Her nipples were dark and swollen. Her chin glistened. A single drop of cum had escaped the corner of her mouth and was tracking slowly down toward her jaw. You reached down and wiped it away with your thumb. Then you pressed your thumb to her lips. She sucked it clean.
“Thank you,” she whispered. You crouched down in front of her. The blindfold was ruined—soaked through with tears and sweat, the leather darkened to near-black. You reached behind her head and unbuckled it. The belt fell away.
Karina blinked. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, the pupils so dilated that her irises were barely visible. Tear tracks striped her cheeks. Her lips—swollen, bruised-looking, the lipstick she hadn’t been wearing long since replaced by a deeper, more honest color. She looked wrecked. She looked free. “How do you feel?” you asked.
A long pause. Then a smile—small, fragile, but real. “Like I’m still here. Like I’m actually… in my body. For the first time in months.” You brushed the hair away from her face. “We’re not done.” Karina’s smile widened, just a fraction. “I know.” “Lie back down on the bed. On your stomach this time.” She rose on unsteady legs and climbed onto the mattress. The black panties were soaked through now—a dark, wet patch that spread from the gusset all the way to the waistband. She arranged herself face-down on the white sheets, her arms stretched above her head, her legs slightly apart.
The position made her ass look incredible. Round and full, the cheeks peeking out from beneath the lace.
You climbed onto the bed behind her. Your cock was still half-hard, already stirring again at the sight of her. “I’m going to take these off now,” you said, hooking your fingers into the waistband of her panties. “And then I’m going to find out just how wet choking on a stranger’s cock made you.”
Karina’s voice was muffled by the pillow. “Yes. Please. Touch me.” You pulled the panties down. And stopped breathing. The panties slid down the curve of her ass, the black lace peeling away from skin that glistened with moisture. The gusset left a shining trail across the backs of her thighs—a snail's track of arousal that caught the bedroom's low light. You stopped breathing.
Karina's cunt was laid bare before you, the lips puffy and flushed a deep rose, parted just enough to reveal the darker, wetter flesh within. Her arousal had coated everything—the inner thighs, the neat strip of dark hair above her mound, the puckered swirl of her asshole that winked at you as she shifted on the mattress. The scent hit you next: salt and musk and something sweeter underneath, the raw perfume of a woman who'd been sucking cock while her nipples were tortured and had loved every second of it.
"Fuck," you breathed. Karina's response was muffled by the pillow. "What? What is it?"
"You're dripping. You're actually—" You ran one finger along the seam of her cunt, not pushing in, just gathering the slick that had pooled there. The touch made her whole body jolt. "You're soaked. All the way down your thighs."
"I know." Her voice cracked. "I could feel it. While I was—while you were in my mouth—I could feel myself getting wetter and I couldn't do anything about it."
"Did you want to?"
"Yes. God, yes. I wanted to touch myself so badly. But you told me not to move. So I just… leaked." You brought your slick-coated finger to your mouth and tasted her. Salty. Slightly bitter. Clean. The flavor bloomed on your tongue, and something in your chest tightened—not just lust, though there was plenty of that, but something closer to awe. The most famous woman in Korea was face-down on her marital bed, her cunt drooling onto the sheets, waiting for a stranger to decide what to do with her.
"Please," Karina whispered. "Please touch me. I've been waiting. I've been so patient. Please."
"How long has it been since someone touched you here?"
"Eight months. Since before the wedding. He never—Joon-ho never—" She choked on the name. "He never wanted to. Even before we got married. He said it was… messy. He said he preferred—"
"Preferred what?"
"His hand. His own hand. While I lay next to him pretending to be asleep." The confession hung in the air. You looked at the perfect curve of her ass, the trembling muscles of her thighs, the slick heat of her cunt that some man had decided wasn't worth his time. "His loss," you said. "Don't move." You positioned yourself behind her, kneeling between her spread legs. The position gave you a view of everything—the long line of her spine, the flare of her hips, the dark cleft of her ass, and at the center of it all, her cunt. Swollen. Wet. Waiting.
"Two fingers," you said. "I'm going to put two fingers inside you. And you're going to scream into that pillow." Karina grabbed the pillow and pulled it to her face. You pushed your middle finger into her first.
The heat was staggering. Tight—god, she was tight—but so wet that your finger slid in to the second knuckle without resistance. Her inner walls clenched around the intrusion, a rippling squeeze that traveled from base to tip. Karina's back arched. A strangled sound escaped the pillow.
"One," you said. "Here comes the second."
Your index finger joined the first. The stretch made her gasp—a sharp intake of air that she cut off by biting the pillow. You pushed both fingers deep, curling them upward, searching for the rough patch of tissue that would make her see stars.
You found it.
Karina screamed.
The sound was muffled by the pillow but still loud enough to echo in the vast bedroom. Her hips bucked backward, driving your fingers deeper. Her cunt clamped down with a force that made your knuckles ache.
"There it is," you murmured. "That's what you needed, isn't it? Someone to find it. Someone to touch it. Someone who isn't afraid of a little mess."
"Don't stop—please don't stop—"
You didn't stop. You fucked her with your fingers in slow, deep strokes, curling them against that spot every time you bottomed out. The wet sounds were obscene—a slick, squelching rhythm that filled the room. Her juices coated your hand, dripped down your wrist, pooled on the sheets beneath her.
"Listen to yourself," you said. "Listen to how wet you are. You sound like a—"
"Like a whore." The word came out muffled but clear. "Say it. I want you to say it."
"You sound like a whore. A dripping, desperate whore who's been neglected for eight months and finally has someone's fingers in her cunt."
Karina moaned—a long, wavering sound that rose in pitch as you increased your pace. Her fingers clawed at the sheets. Her ass lifted higher, presenting herself more openly, and you watched her cunt stretch around your fingers, the lips clinging to your knuckles every time you pulled back.
"More," she gasped. "More. I need more. I need—"
"You need what?"
"I need to come. Please. Please let me come. I've been so good. I swallowed everything. I didn't spill a drop. Please."
You slowed your fingers. Stopped them entirely, buried to the hilt inside her.
Karina whimpered. "No—no, why did you stop—"
"Because I want to hear you beg properly." You leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're not Karina right now. You're not an idol. You're just a wet hole that wants to be filled. So beg like one."
A shudder ran through her body. Her voice, when it came, was smaller than before—stripped of the polish, stripped of everything except raw, naked need.
"Please fuck me with your fingers. Please make me come. I've been empty for so long. I've been so empty and so lonely and the only thing that's made me feel anything in months is your cock in my throat and your fingers on my nipples and now I need—I need you to let me finish. I need to feel something break inside me. Please. I'm begging you. I'm begging like the desperate slut I am. Please."
"Good girl."
You resumed fucking her with your fingers. Faster this time. Harder. The curl against her G-spot became a pounding rhythm, and Karina's whole body began to shake. Her thighs quivered. Her ass clenched and unclenched. The pillow was soaked with saliva and tears.
"I'm close—I'm so close—"
You pulled your fingers out.
"No!" The word was a howl. Her cunt gaped for a moment, empty and clenching on nothing, and then she collapsed forward onto the mattress. "Why? Why did you—I was right there—"
"Turn over."
She rolled onto her back. Her face was a wreck—eyes wild and glassy, cheeks blotchy with tears, lips still swollen from the blowjob. Her chest heaved. Her nipples stood out like dark berries against the pale swell of her breasts.
"Spread your legs."
She did. Her cunt was even more obscene from this angle—the lips engorged and spread, the inner flesh a slick, vivid pink, the hood of her clitoris pulled back to reveal the pearl beneath. Everything glistened.
"Touch yourself."
Karina's hand flew to her cunt. Her fingers found her clit and began rubbing in tight, frantic circles. Her other hand grabbed her breast, squeezing, pinching the nipple.
"That's it. Show me how you make yourself come when you're alone in this empty house."
"It's always you," she panted. "Not you—not you specifically—but someone. Someone who isn't him. Someone who wants me. I imagine—I imagine being taken. Being used. Being ruined." Her circles grew faster. "I imagine a stranger's cock. A stranger's hands. I imagine being bent over and fucked until I can't walk. Until I can't think. Until I forget my own name."
"And does your husband ever make you come?"
"Never. Not once. Not even—not even when we—ah—"
"Don't stop. Keep rubbing."
Her fingers were a blur on her clit. Her hips lifted off the mattress. The muscles in her stomach stood out in sharp definition. She was close again—you could see it in the flush spreading across her chest, the way her mouth fell open, the frantic, jerky movements of her hand.
"Please," she gasped. "Please let me—"
"Stop."
Her hand froze. A sound came out of her that wasn't human—a guttural, animal keen of pure frustration. Her clit twitched visibly, denied its release. Her cunt spasmed, squeezing around nothing, gushing a fresh surge of fluid that soaked the sheets.
"Fuck!" She slammed her fist against the mattress. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
You grabbed her wrist and pinned it above her head. "Look at me."
Karina's eyes met yours. They were wet and desperate and furious and grateful all at once.
"You said you wanted to be ruined. Ruined doesn't mean easy. Ruined doesn't mean I let you come the moment you ask nicely. Ruined means I take you apart piece by piece until there's nothing left but the animal underneath. Do you understand?"
"Yes." The word was barely a whisper.
"Do you still want this?"
"God, yes. Yes. Ruin me. Please. I want to be ruined."
You released her wrist. "Then get on your hands and knees. I want to see all of you."
Karina scrambled into position. The movement was ungraceful, uncoordinated—the idol's dancer precision abandoned in favor of pure, sloppy need. She presented herself on all fours, her back arched, her ass lifted high. The position opened her completely—her cunt a dark, wet gash between her thighs, her asshole a tight pink knot, everything glistening with the evidence of her arousal.
"Spread your ass cheeks."
Her hands reached back. Her fingers dug into the full flesh of her buttocks and pulled them apart, exposing herself more completely. The vulnerability of the gesture made your cock throb.
"Wider."
She stretched herself open until the pink of her cunt gaped slightly, until you could see the dark entrance of her body, the place where her wetness pooled and dripped in a slow, viscous thread onto the sheets.
"Please," she breathed. "Please ruin my pussy. I need your cock. I need it inside me. I've needed it since you walked through my door. Since before that. Since I first saw your picture in the agency file. Please. Fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like I'm nothing."
You positioned yourself behind her.
Your cock was fully hard again—thick and veined, the head an angry purple, a bead of precum already forming at the slit. You gripped the base and ran the tip along her slit, coating yourself in her slick. The contact made her shudder.
"Is this what you want?"
"Yes—"
You pushed the head against her entrance. The heat of her cunt kissed the tip of your cock.
"Say it again. Louder."
"YES. Fuck me. Please fuck me. Ruin my pussy. I want to feel you in my womb. I want to feel you for days. I want to walk into my next schedule and still feel where you've been. Please—"
You thrust forward.
One motion. No gradual entry. No easing her open. You buried yourself to the hilt in a single, brutal stroke, and Karina's plea dissolved into a scream that had no words in it.
Her cunt was impossibly tight. The wet heat of her gripped every inch of you—a clenching, rippling pressure that traveled from base to tip. You felt the head of your cock butt against her cervix, felt the resistant give of that deepest barrier, and then you pushed past it.
Karina's scream pitched higher.
"Oh fuck—oh fuck, you're so deep—you're in my—"
"Your womb. I know."
You stayed there for a moment, buried to the root, letting her body adjust to the intrusion. Her inner walls fluttered around your shaft—spasms of sensation that were half pleasure, half shock. Her fingers were still digging into her ass cheeks, holding herself open, and you could see exactly where your bodies joined. The stretched ring of her cunt. The way her lips clung to the base of your cock. The shine of her fluids on your skin.
"You're taking all of it," you said. "Every inch. You feel that? Feel how deep I am?"
"Yes—yes, I feel it—I feel you in my stomach—"
"Good."
You pulled back. The drag of her walls against your shaft made your vision swim. Then you slammed forward again, harder than before, and Karina's head dropped between her shoulders, her whole body rocking forward from the force.
"AH—"
"Again."
Another thrust. Harder. The sound of your bodies colliding was a wet slap that echoed off the bedroom walls. Her ass rippled with the impact. Her breasts swung beneath her.
"You wanted to be ruined," you growled, gripping her hips. "So I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to fuck this tight little cunt until you can't remember your own name. Until you can't remember his name. Until the only thing in your head is my cock and how deep it is and how hard I'm using you."
"Yes—yes—fuck—harder—"
You gave her harder.
The rhythm you set was brutal—deep, driving strokes that bottomed out against her cervix with every thrust. The wet sounds of her cunt filled the room. Your balls slapped against her clit. Sweat dripped from your forehead onto her back, tracing rivulets down her spine.
Karina was making sounds that didn't belong to any language. Guttural moans. High-pitched whines. Broken syllables that might have been words if she'd had enough control to form them. Her fingers had released her ass cheeks and were now fisting in the sheets, knuckles white, arms trembling.
"Look at you. The most famous idol in Korea. On her hands and knees. Getting her pussy destroyed by a stranger. Moaning like an animal. This is what you needed, isn't it? Not the fame. Not the money. Not the perfect husband and the perfect house. This. Just this. Just a cock in your cunt and someone who knows how to use it."
"YES—YES, THIS—THIS IS WHAT I—OH FUCK—"
You reached around her body and found her clit. The bundle of nerves was swollen and slick, hard as a pebble under your fingertip. You pressed down and circled—not gently, not teasingly, but with the same brutal intensity as your thrusts.
Karina's whole body convulsed.
The orgasm hit her like a wave breaking against rocks. Her cunt clamped down on your cock with a force that almost hurt—a rhythmic, pulsing squeeze that traveled in waves from her core outward. Her back arched impossibly. Her head flew up, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes rolled back so far that only the whites were visible.
Then the sound came. A wail. A keening, animal cry that started low in her chest and rose to fill the room. Her arms gave out. She collapsed forward onto the mattress, but you followed her down, never stopping, never slowing, fucking her through the orgasm with the same relentless pace.
"Thaaaat's it—don't stop—don't stop—don't—I can't—it's too much—"
"You can take it. You wanted to be ruined. You're going to take every thrust until I'm done with you."
"It's too much—it's—oh god—OH GOD—"
A second orgasm crashed over her before the first had fully subsided. This one was stronger—violent, almost. Her cunt gushed around your cock, soaking your thighs, soaking the sheets. Her screams dissolved into sobs. Her body shook with a force that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than muscle, somewhere primal.
"Please—please—I can't—I can't take any more—"
"One more. Give me one more."
"I can't—I can't—"
"You can. Feel that? Feel how deep I am? Feel how full you are? That's what you needed. Not his empty house. Not his empty promises. This. A cock that fills you up. A body that knows how to use yours. Come for me again, Karina. Come on this cock like the desperate whore you told me you are."
Her response was unintelligible. A stream of syllables that might have been Korean, might have been English, might have been neither. A confession. A prayer. A surrender.
You drove into her harder—deeper, if that was even possible—and pressed your thumb against her clit. The stimulation was merciless. Her cunt seized around you. Her sobs pitched higher.
And then she shattered.
This orgasm was different from the others. Quieter. Deeper. Her body went rigid for a long, suspended moment—every muscle locked, every breath held. Then the release came, and it came with a flood. Her cunt gushed around your shaft—not just wetness this time, but a clear, copious fluid that sprayed against your thighs and soaked into the mattress beneath her.
Karina's voice broke on a single word: "Fuuuuck—"
Her body went limp. Completely limp. She collapsed into the wet sheets, her chest heaving, her limbs twitching with aftershocks. Her cunt still pulsed weakly around your cock—little flutters of sensation that traveled up your shaft.
You slowed your thrusts. Eased to a stop. Buried yourself deep inside her one last time and held there, feeling the heat of her body, the slick grip of her cunt, the violent thudding of her heart that you could feel through the walls of her core.
The room was silent except for her breathing—ragged, broken gasps that gradually slowed to something approaching normal.
"Are you still with me?" you asked.
A long pause. Then, muffled by the mattress: "I don't know. I think so. I think… I think that was…"
"That was what?"
"That was the first time. The first time anyone's ever—" She swallowed. The movement traveled through her whole body. "The first time anyone's ever made me come. Not just during sex. Ever."
You pulled out slowly. Her cunt made a wet, sucking sound as you withdrew—reluctant, almost, as if her body didn't want to let you go. A gush of fluid followed, clear and viscous, pooling on the already-soaked sheets.
Karina whimpered at the emptiness.
"Turn over," you said. "Look at me."
It took her a moment to find the strength. When she finally rolled onto her back, the sight of her made your chest tighten.
She was wrecked. Absolutely wrecked. Her face was blotchy with tears, her eyes swollen and glassy. Her lips—still puffy from the blowjob—were parted, a thin trail of drool connecting the corner of her mouth to her chin. Her nipples were dark and angry-looking, surrounded by faint marks where your fingers had been. Her thighs were slick with her own fluids. Her cunt gaped slightly, the lips engorged and spread, still pulsing with aftershocks.
She had never looked more beautiful.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You don't have to thank me."
"I know. I want to." Her voice was hoarse—fucked raw, used up. "I've been numb for so long. I didn't even realize how numb until… until you made me feel all of this. The pain. The pleasure. The—the shame. The humiliation. I felt all of it. I'm still feeling it."
"And right now? How do you feel?"
Karina's eyes found yours. The glassiness was fading, replaced by something clearer. Something almost peaceful.
"Full," she said. "And sore. And wet. And tired. And…" A pause. "Alive. I feel alive."
You reached down and brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair away from her forehead. The gesture was gentle—a stark contrast to everything you'd just done to her body.
"Good," you said. "Because we're still not finished."
Her eyes widened. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her wrecked face—small and fragile and utterly genuine.
"I know," she said. "I was counting on it."
The shower was a rainfall fixture, wide enough for two, the water coming down in a steady, warm curtain. Steam fogged the glass enclosure. You stood behind Karina, cupping water in your palms and letting it run down her back. The rivulets tracked the geography you'd already memorized—the dip of her spine, the flare of her hips, the twin dimples just above the swell of her ass.
She leaned against the marble wall, forehead pressed to the cool stone.
"I can't feel my legs," she mumbled.
"That's normal."
"Is it?" A laugh, breathy and exhausted. "Good to know."
You reached for the body wash—something expensive, sandalwood and bergamot—and worked it into a lather between your hands. When you touched her shoulders, Karina sighed. The sound was different from the ones that had filled the bedroom an hour ago. Softer. Quieter. The sigh of a body that had been wrung dry and was finally allowed to rest.
Your hands moved down her back in slow circles. Over the faint red marks your fingers had left on her hips. Across the small of her back where sweat had pooled and dried. Down to the curve of her ass, where you kneaded the muscle with careful pressure.
"You're going to be sore tomorrow," you said.
"Good." Her voice was muffled against the marble. "I want to be sore. I want to remember."
"Remember what?"
She turned around. Water sluiced down her front, plastering her hair to her neck and shoulders. The mascara she hadn't been wearing was long gone, but her eyes were still rimmed with red, still slightly swollen. The marks on her nipples had darkened. Her lips—still puffy, still that deep bruised rose—curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"That I'm a real person. That someone wanted me. That for a few hours, I wasn't just a photograph."
You cupped her face. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones. "You were never just a photograph."
"You know what I mean."
"I do." You leaned down and kissed her forehead. Then the bridge of her nose. Then each eyelid, feather-light, the way you'd close a book you weren't finished reading. "But you need to hear it anyway. You're not what he made you feel. You were never what he made you feel."
Karina's breath shuddered out. Fresh tears mixed with the shower water—silent ones this time, not the wrenching sobs from before. She didn't answer. Didn't need to. You held her there in the steam until the water started to cool.
Later, wrapped in a robe that probably cost more than your monthly car payment, Karina walked you to the front door.
The foyer was different now. Less cavernous. The unopened flowers still sat on the console table, but something about them had shifted—they looked less like an accusation and more like a relic. A fossil from a life she was leaving behind.
She pressed a small folded paper into your palm.
"My real number," she said. "Not the one the agency has. Not the one my manager screens." Her fingers lingered on your wrist. "Call me. Or text me. I don't care which. Just… don't disappear."
You unfolded the paper. The handwriting was neat, precise—idol training, probably, years of signing autographs until every stroke was perfect. Ten digits. No name. She didn't need one.
"I won't disappear," you said.
"You say that now."
"I mean it." You caught her hand and lifted it to your lips. Kissed her knuckles. Then the inside of her wrist, where the skin was thin and the pulse still fluttered. "You survived eight months of being invisible in your own house. The least I can do is answer a text."
She laughed—a real one this time, short and surprised. "That's a low bar."
"I'm a simple man."
Karina pulled her hand back, but slowly, the way you set down something fragile. "Go. Before I ask you to stay."
You didn't say goodbye. The training had taught you better than that. Goodbye implied an ending, and endings were the one thing clients like Karina didn't need more of. Instead you stepped out into the cool night air, the paper clutched in your hand, and let the door click shut behind you.
Three weeks passed.
Senior Park called on a Tuesday.
"New client," he said, the way he always did—like he was offering you a gift and daring you to guess what was inside. "Young. Married. The usual story."
"The usual story" had become a kind of shorthand between you. Rich husband. Neglected wife. A mansion full of expensive things and no warmth. You'd heard it so many times now that the details blurred together—only the faces changed, and even those were starting to feel familiar. Actresses. Idols. The wives of men who'd acquired beauty like a stock portfolio and then forgotten to check on it.
"Who is it?" you asked.
A pause. Park was savoring this.
"Jang Wonyoung."
The name hit you like a bucket of cold water.
"Wonyoung? From IVE?"
"The one and only." You could hear the grin in his voice. "Married at twenty-eight. To Kim Seok-joong. The producer. You know him?"
Everyone knew him. Kim Seok-joong had produced half the hits on the charts for the last five years—a genius behind the mixing board, a tyrant in the studio, and, according to every rumor mill in the industry, a man who treated marriage vows like a suggestion. The tabloids had run photos of him leaving clubs with trainees young enough to be his daughters. Wonyoung's name always appeared in the same articles, usually paired with words like "humiliated" and "trapped."
"She called us directly," Park continued. "Apparently she heard about us through a mutual acquaintance. Someone who spoke very highly of your work."
You thought of Karina. Of the paper still folded in your wallet.
"Mutual acquaintance?"
"I don't ask. I don't want to know. I just make the arrangements." The rustle of paper on his end. "She's in Hannam-dong. The penthouse. Tomorrow night, nine o'clock. Don't be late."
The line went dead.
Hannam-dong at night was a different kind of wealth than the gated mansions of the suburbs. Here the money went vertical—glass towers that stabbed into the sky, each floor a monument to someone's ambition. The penthouse elevator required a code, which Senior Park had texted you an hour earlier along with a single line: She's nervous. Go slow.
The elevator ascended in silence. No muzak. No mirrored walls. Just brushed steel and the soft hum of hydraulics. You watched the floor numbers climb and tried not to think about the fact that Jang Wonyoung was waiting at the top of this building. Jang Wonyoung, who'd debuted at fourteen and been famous before she could legally drive. Jang Wonyoung, whose face had sold a million magazines. Jang Wonyoung, who'd married a man twice her age and apparently regretted it before the ink on the certificate was dry.
The doors opened onto a private foyer.
The penthouse was smaller than Karina's mansion—everything in Seoul was smaller than Karina's mansion—but it made up for it in verticality. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Han River, the city lights reflected in the water like scattered coins. The furniture was minimalist: a low white sofa, a glass coffee table, a single orchid in a concrete pot. No photographs. No personal touches. It looked less like a home and more like a hotel suite where someone had been staying for too long.
Wonyoung stood at the window with her back to you.
She was taller than you'd expected. Taller than she looked on stage, where the camera angles and the choreography and the other members had a way of shrinking her. In person, barefoot on the marble floor, she was statuesque—long legs, a narrow waist, the kind of proportions that designers fought to dress. She wore an ivory silk robe that fell to her ankles, her dark hair loose and straight, still damp at the ends as if she'd just showered.
"It's a nice view," you said.
She didn't turn around. "I used to think so."
Her voice was different from Karina's. Lower. Flatter. Where Karina's words had crackled with suppressed fury, Wonyoung's came out like the air leaking from a tire—slow, deflated, resigned.
You stepped further into the room. "Senior Park said you wanted to meet me."
"Meet you." A short laugh. "That's a polite way of putting it."
"I can leave."
"Can you?" Now she turned. The sight of her face hit you like a physical force—the kind of beauty that felt almost aggressive, all sharp angles and full lips and eyes that were too big for her face. But there was something hollow behind them. Something that had been scooped out and never filled back in. "You can leave. You can stay. You can do whatever you want. I'm just… here."
"How long have you been 'just here'?"
Wonyoung crossed her arms over her chest. The robe was silk, thin enough that you could see the outline of her body beneath it—the curve of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, the long lines of her thighs. She wasn't trying to be seductive. She wasn't trying to be anything. That was the most unsettling part.
"A year," she said. "Maybe longer. I stopped counting."
"A year of what?"
"Of waiting. Of pretending. Of showing up to award shows on his arm while everyone in the audience knows he fucked one of his backup dancers the night before." Her jaw tightened. "Do you know what that's like? To smile for cameras while your husband's mistress is standing ten feet away, adjusting her earpiece?"
You didn't answer. You'd learned with Karina that sometimes the best response was no response—just the space to let the words hang in the air until they lost their poison.
Wonyoung uncrossed her arms. Let them fall to her sides. "I'm not looking for sympathy."
"Then what are you looking for?"
"The same thing everyone who calls your agency is looking for." She met your eyes, and for a moment the hollowness flickered—replaced by something harder. Something almost defiant. "I want to feel like I exist. Like I'm not just… a decoration. A trophy. Something he acquired and then forgot about."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine."
"And how old is he?"
A pause. "Fifty-two."
You let the number sit there. Fifty-two. Older than her father, probably. Old enough to know better. Old enough to treat a twenty-eight-year-old bride like a collectible—desirable right up until the moment the paperwork was signed, and then irrelevant.
"What does he say when you confront him?" you asked.
Wonyoung's laugh was empty. "He doesn't. He just… leaves. Goes to the studio. Comes back three days later smelling like someone else's perfume. And I'm supposed to pretend I don't notice. I'm supposed to be grateful. He made my career, after all. Half my songs were his. Half my image. Half my life." Her voice cracked on the last word. "I was nineteen when I met him. I didn't know anything. I thought it was love."
"What do you think it was now?"
"Ownership." The word came out flat. "He didn't want a wife. He wanted a muse. Something beautiful to inspire him. And now he's inspired by someone else, and I'm just… here. In this penthouse. With this view. Waiting for him to come home and pretending I don't know where he's been."
You moved closer. Not close enough to touch—not yet—but close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to keep meeting your eyes.
"What do you want from tonight?"
Wonyoung held your gaze. The defiance was back, stronger now, warring with the exhaustion. "I want to stop waiting. I want to be touched by someone who actually wants to touch me. I want…" She swallowed. "I want to feel like a woman instead of a photograph. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense."
"And you can do that? You can… give me that?"
"I can give you whatever you're willing to take." You held out your hand, palm up, the same way you had with Karina three weeks ago. "But I need to hear you say it. I need to know you're sure."
Wonyoung looked at your hand. The hesitation was visible—the same hesitation every client had, the moment before they crossed the line from thinking about it to doing it. The moment where the life they'd been living warred with the life they wanted.
Then she took it.
"I'm sure," she said. "I've been sure for six months. I just didn't know who to call."
"Your safeword?"
"Red."
"And if you can't speak?"
"Three taps. Anywhere you can feel them."
Her palm was cool against yours. Her fingers were long and slender—pianist's fingers, though you knew she didn't play. The silk of her robe brushed against your wrist.
"Before we start," you said, "I want you to know something."
"What?"
"This isn't about your husband. This isn't about revenge. This isn't about making him feel what you've been feeling." You squeezed her hand gently. "This is about you. Right now. In this room. Nothing else exists. Do you understand?"
Wonyoung's lips parted. For a moment she looked younger—not twenty-nine, but nineteen again, standing in a studio somewhere and believing that the famous producer who'd noticed her was offering her the world.
"I understand," she said.
"Good. Now take off the robe."
She released your hand. Her fingers went to the sash at her waist, the silk loosening with a whisper. The robe slipped off her shoulders. Pooled at her feet.
Underneath she wore nothing at all.
Her body was long and lean, with the kind of proportions that seemed almost impossible outside of a magazine spread. Small, high breasts with nipples the color of pale tea. A waist that nipped in dramatically before flaring into hips that had launched a thousand fan cams. Long legs, smooth and toned, the muscles of a dancer visible beneath the skin. A dark triangle of hair at the junction of her thighs, neatly trimmed.
But what struck you most wasn't the beauty. It was the stillness. Karina had been trembling with suppressed energy, her body practically vibrating with need. Wonyoung stood completely motionless, her arms at her sides, her expression unreadable. She looked like a statue—beautiful and cold and utterly detached from the body she occupied.
"You're very beautiful," you said.
"I know." Not arrogant. Just… factual. "People tell me that a lot."
"Do you believe them?"
A flicker of something—surprise, maybe, or confusion. "What?"
"Do you believe them? When they tell you you're beautiful. Do you feel beautiful?"
Wonyoung's brow furrowed. "I don't… I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do." You circled her slowly, the way you'd circle a sculpture in a gallery. "You've been told you're beautiful your whole life. It's on every magazine cover. Every comment section. Every introduction. But when you look in the mirror, what do you see?"
Her voice was quieter now. "I see what everyone else sees."
"That's not what I asked."
You stopped behind her. The view from here was just as striking—the sweep of her back, the curve of her ass, the way her hair fell in a dark curtain between her shoulder blades. She hadn't turned to follow you. She was still facing the window, still looking at the river and the lights.
"I asked what you see," you continued. "Not what they see. Not what the cameras see. What you see."
The silence stretched. Outside, a boat moved across the Han River, its lights reflecting in the dark water.
"Nothing," Wonyoung said finally. "I see nothing. I see a body that exists to be looked at. A face that exists to be photographed. When I look in the mirror, I don't see a person. I see…" She trailed off.
"A product."
"Yes." The word was barely audible. "A product. Something that was packaged and sold before I understood what I was agreeing to."
You stepped closer. Close enough that the heat of your body registered against her bare back. Close enough that if she leaned back even an inch, she'd be touching you.
"That ends tonight," you said. "Tonight, you're not a product. You're not a photograph. You're not what your husband neglected or what the cameras captured. You're a woman. Just a woman. And I'm going to make you feel like one."
Wonyoung's breathing had changed. Shallower. Faster. Her shoulders rose and fell in the window's reflection.
"How?" she asked.
"First, I'm going to touch you. Not the way a photographer touches you. Not the way a stylist touches you. I'm going to touch you the way a man touches a woman he wants." You raised your hand and let it hover just above her shoulder—not making contact, but close enough that she could feel the heat of your palm. "And you're going to stand right here and let yourself feel it. All of it. Every sensation. Do you understand?"
Her voice was a whisper. "Yes."
"Good."
You let your hand settle on her shoulder.
The contact was light—just your palm against her skin, your fingers curving over the ridge of her collarbone. But Wonyoung's reaction was immediate. Her breath stuttered. Her spine stiffened. The muscles beneath your hand went rigid, then slowly, gradually, began to soften.
"When's the last time someone touched you?" you asked.
"I don't…" She swallowed. "I don't remember."
"Months?"
"Longer. Before the wedding, maybe. He was… interested then. Before he had me. After that…" She shook her head.
You moved your hand down her arm. Slowly. Deliberately. Letting your fingers trace the curve of her bicep, the dip of her elbow, the smooth skin of her forearm. Goosebumps rose in the wake of your touch.
"Close your eyes," you said.
She did. Her lashes swept down against her cheeks, dark against the pale skin.
"Now I want you to focus on what you're feeling. Not what you're thinking. Not what you're worried about. Just the physical sensation. My hand on your skin. The heat of my body behind you. The cool air on the rest of you. Can you do that?"
"I can try."
"Don't try. Just do."
You brought your other hand to her waist. The silk of the robe had been thin, but her bare skin was thinner—softer, warmer, alive in a way the fabric never could be. You felt the slight give of flesh over muscle, the delicate architecture of her ribs. Wonyoung's lips parted. A tremor ran through her.
"Good," you murmured. "That's it. Stay present. Stay here."
Your hands moved together now—one sliding up to cup her breast, the other tracing the curve of her hip. The contact was gentle, almost reverent. You weren't trying to arouse her yet. You were trying to wake her up. To remind her body that it was capable of sensation beyond the clinical touches of stylists and makeup artists and the indifferent hands of a husband who'd long since stopped seeing her as anything but an acquisition.
Her breast was small and firm, fitting perfectly in your palm. The nipple was already tightening—an involuntary response, the body's language for yes, this, more. You circled it with your thumb, not quite touching the peak, letting the anticipation build.
"Oh," she breathed. Just that. Just the single syllable, but it was the most human sound she'd made since you'd arrived.
"You feel that?"
"Yes."
"What does it feel like?"
"Warm. It feels… warm. And tingly. Like—like pins and needles, but soft."
"That's your body waking up." You brushed your thumb across her nipple, finally making contact. The peak was hard now, pebbled and tight. Wonyoung's breath caught. Her hips shifted—an instinctive movement, barely conscious. "That's your body remembering what it feels like to be touched."
"Don't stop," she whispered.
"I'm not stopping. I'm just getting started."
You turned her around to face you. Her eyes were still closed, her lips slightly parted, a flush spreading across her chest. The cool, detached statue from five minutes ago was already beginning to thaw.
"Open your eyes," you said.
She did. The hollowness was still there, but it had receded slightly—pushed back by something warmer. Something hungrier.
"Lie down on the bed," you said. "On your back. I'm going to touch every inch of you, and you're going to stay present for all of it. No disappearing. No retreating into your head. You're going to feel everything. Do you understand?"
Wonyoung's voice was steadier now. "Yes."
"Good. Then let's begin."
She walked toward the bedroom—the same statuesque stride, but looser now, less guarded. The ivory robe stayed in a puddle on the floor behind her, already forgotten.
You followed her. The penthouse bedroom was all windows on one side, the city lights glittering below like a mirror image of the stars. A king-sized bed dominated the center of the room. White sheets. Too many pillows. The same story, different setting.
Wonyoung lay down in the center of the mattress. Arranged herself with her arms at her sides, her hair spread across the pillow, her legs slightly apart. The position was almost clinical—like she was posing for a photograph. Muscle memory.
"Relax your arms," you said. "Above your head."
She lifted them. The movement pulled her breasts higher, flattened her stomach.
"Close your eyes."
Her lashes swept down.
You knelt on the bed beside her. In the silence, you could hear her breathing—quicker than before, but still controlled. Still holding onto something. You would need to break through that control. Not with force. With patience. With attention. With the kind of touch she'd been starved of for years.
"Now," you said, letting your hand hover over her stomach. "Let's find out what Jang Wonyoung feels like when she stops being a photograph and starts being a woman."
Your palm settled on her skin.
And Wonyoung began to tremble.
Your palm settled on Wonyoung's stomach.
The trembling started small—a flutter of muscle beneath warm skin—then spread outward, rippling through her thighs, her belly, the flat plane of her chest. She kept her eyes closed, arms still arranged above her head in that posing-for-a-photograph way that had become second nature.
"You're shaking," you said.
"I know." Her voice was thinner now. "I can't seem to stop."
"Don't stop. Let it happen."
Your hand moved in a slow circle, tracing the faint definition of her abdominal muscles. The skin here was softer than you'd expected—yielding, warm, the kind of softness that came from being young and healthy and well-cared-for in every way except the one that mattered. Wonyoung's breath stuttered when your palm grazed the bottom of her ribcage.
"What are you feeling?"
"Your hand." A pause. "It's… warmer than I expected."
"What else?"
"I don't know. It's been so long since—" She swallowed. The movement traveled down her throat, a subtle ripple. "Since anyone touched me without an agenda. My stylists touch me to adjust my clothes. Photographers touch me to fix my hair. Seok-joong…" The name came out like a curse. "He doesn't touch me at all."
You traced the lower curve of her breast. Not the nipple—not yet—just the swell where her chest began to rise. The skin was impossibly smooth, pale as cream in the city light streaming through the windows.
"When's the last time you touched yourself?"
Wonyoung's eyes opened. The question had surprised her. "What?"
"You heard me."
"I don't…" Her brow furrowed. "I don't do that."
"You don't masturbate?"
The word made her flinch. A tiny recoil, barely visible, but you caught it. "That's not something I—I mean, I've never really—"
"Never?" You kept your hand where it was, still and warm against the curve of her breast. "You've never made yourself come?"
Wonyoung closed her eyes again. A flush was spreading from her chest up her neck, blooming across her collarbones like spilled wine. "Once. Maybe twice. A long time ago. Before I debuted. Before everything got so…" She trailed off.
"So controlled."
"Yes."
"Show me."
Her eyes flew open. "What?"
"Sit up." You withdrew your hand and sat back on your heels. "I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see how Jang Wonyoung pleasures her own body when no one else is looking."
The hesitation was visible—a war playing out behind her eyes. The trained idol, the curated image, the woman who'd spent her entire adult life being looked at without ever being touched. Then something shifted. A crack in the facade. Her lips parted.
"Okay," she whispered.
She sat up slowly. The movement was graceful despite her trembling—dancer's muscle memory, the body knowing what to do even when the mind was unmoored. She propped herself against the headboard, the white sheets pooling around her hips. Her breasts were small and high on her chest, the nipples still tight from your earlier attention.
"Lie back," you said. "Spread your legs. Let me see all of you."
Wonyoung arranged herself against the pillows. Her thighs parted with visible reluctance—not resistance, but the shyness of a woman who'd been taught that her body was a commodity, not a source of pleasure. The dark triangle of hair between her legs was neatly trimmed, the lips beneath barely visible in the dim light.
"Touch your breasts first," you said. "The way you like it."
Her hands lifted. The movement was hesitant, almost clinical, like she was examining herself rather than pleasuring herself. Her fingers brushed her nipples and she gasped—a sharp, surprised sound.
"That's it. They're sensitive, aren't they?"
"Yes—I didn't know—no one's ever—"
"No one's ever played with your nipples?"
"No." The word came out strangled. Her fingers circled the tight peaks, tracing the areolae with tentative strokes. "Seok-joong said breasts were for—ah—for looking at. Not for—"
"Not for touching."
"Not for touching."
You watched her hands grow bolder. The circles became pinches—gentle at first, then harder, the way you'd done earlier. Her back arched slightly. Her mouth fell open.
"Good girl. Now move one hand lower. Touch yourself between your legs."
Wonyoung's right hand slid down her stomach. The trembling was worse now—her whole body vibrating with a tension that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the forbidden nature of what she was doing. Her fingers reached the dark curls and stopped.
"I don't know if I can—"
"You can. Part your lips for me. Show me your cunt."
The vulgar word made her gasp. But her fingers obeyed—they slid through the trimmed hair, parted the outer lips, exposed the pink flesh within. Even from where you knelt, you could see the gleam of moisture. The way her inner lips clung together, then separated with a wet, sticky sound.
"You're wet," you said. "You're wet and you haven't even touched your clit yet."
"Is that—is that normal?"
"It's more than normal. It's beautiful. You're beautiful." You leaned closer. "Now find your clit. The little pearl at the top. Touch it."
Wonyoung's middle finger found the swollen bud. The contact made her whole body jerk. A sound escaped her—half moan, half whimper—and her thighs snapped shut around her hand.
"Keep them open. I want to watch."
"I can't—it's too—"
"You can. Open your legs, Wonyoung. Let me see what your body does when you stop being a photograph."
She forced her thighs apart. The effort was visible—muscles trembling, breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. Her finger began to circle her clit in slow, tentative strokes. The hood pulled back with each pass, revealing the slick pearl beneath. Her other hand stayed on her breast, pinching and rolling the nipple in counterpoint.
"There," she breathed. "Oh—there—that feels—"
"What does it feel like?"
"Tight. Hot. Like—like something's building. Like I need to—" Her circling grew faster. "Like I need to—"
"You need to come."
"Yes." The word was a sob. "Yes. I need to come. Please. I've never—not with anyone watching—not with anyone—"
"Come for me, Wonyoung. Let go. I've got you."
Her body seized. Her back arched off the mattress, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream. The hand between her legs moved frantically—rubbing, pressing, chasing the climax that was crashing over her. A keening sound escaped her throat, high and desperate.
Then she collapsed.
Her chest heaved. Her thighs quivered. The hand on her breast fell away, and the other remained pressed against her cunt—not moving now, just holding, as if she couldn't bear to let go of the sensation.
"That was your first orgasm with an audience," you said.
Wonyoung's laugh was breathless, almost giddy. "That was my first orgasm. Period. I don't think the other times—I don't think they were real. Not like that."
"Not like that."
"No." She opened her eyes and looked at you. The hollowness was gone—replaced by something brighter, something almost hungry. "I want more. I want—" She swallowed. "I want you inside me. But I want to be in control. Just this once. I want to decide."
You raised an eyebrow. "You want to ride me."
"Yes." The word came out stronger now. "I've spent my whole life being positioned. Being told where to stand and how to pose and what to wear. I want—just this once—I want to be the one who decides. Does that make sense?"
"It makes perfect sense."
You stood up from the bed and unbuckled your pants. Wonyoung watched with open curiosity—the way her eyes tracked the movement of your hands, the way her lips parted when you pushed your boxers down and your cock sprang free. She'd seen it earlier, of course, but now she looked at it differently. Like she was sizing it up. Like she was planning.
"It's thicker than I thought," she murmured.
"Is that a problem?"
"No." A small smile played at the corner of her mouth. "It's just… I've never seen one this close before. Not like this. Seok-joong and I—the few times we—it was always in the dark. Always over quickly. He never let me look."
"Look all you want."
She did. Her gaze traveled the length of your shaft—the vein that pulsed along the underside, the ridge of the head, the way the skin pulled tight when you were fully hard. Her tongue darted out and wet her lips.
"Lie down," she said. "On your back."
You obeyed. The sheets were cool against your shoulders. Wonyoung rose on her knees and swung one long leg over your hips, straddling you. The position put her cunt directly above your cock—you could see the pink of her inner lips, still slick from her orgasm, still parted and ready. A drop of her arousal fell onto your stomach.
"Like this?" she asked.
"Reverse."
"What?"
"Turn around. Face my feet. Reverse cowgirl."
Wonyoung blinked. Then understanding dawned, and with it came something you hadn't seen on her face before—a flicker of genuine excitement. "I've seen this position. In… things I've watched. When I was alone."
"Then you know how it works."
She turned around. The movement was awkward—she had to lift one leg, then the other, bracing herself with a hand on your thigh—but the awkwardness was part of the appeal. She wasn't performing. She wasn't posing. She was just a woman figuring out how to take what she wanted.
When she settled into position, facing away from you, the view was spectacular. The long sweep of her back. The curve of her ass, round and firm. The dark cleft between her cheeks, and below that, her cunt—still wet, still open, positioned directly above your cock.
"Reach back," you said. "Take hold of me."
Her hand fumbled behind her. Fingers brushed your shaft, then your balls, then closed around the base. Her grip was tentative—too light, too careful—but she guided the head to her entrance anyway. The contact made her gasp.
"Oh god. You're so—I can feel how big you are just from this—"
"Take your time. You're in control."
Wonyoung lowered herself an inch. The head of your cock pressed against her opening, parting the slick lips. The heat of her was incredible—wet and tight and pulsing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She stopped there, breathing hard, her thighs trembling on either side of your hips.
"I don't know if I can—"
"You can. Slowly. Just a little at a time."
She sank down another inch. The head slipped inside her, and Wonyoung cried out—a sharp, startled sound that was half pain and half pleasure. Her inner walls clenched around you, a rippling squeeze that traveled from tip to base.
"Fuck—fuck, you're stretching me—"
"You're doing so well. Take what you need."
Another inch. Then another. Her cunt was impossibly tight—tighter than Karina's, tighter than anyone you'd been with in recent memory. The walls gripped you like a fist, hot and slick and pulsing. Wonyoung's breathing had gone ragged. Her head dropped forward. Her hands braced on your thighs, nails digging in.
"I'm only halfway—oh god—I'm only halfway and I already feel so full—"
"Keep going. You wanted control. Take it."
She took it. Her hips dropped the rest of the way, and your cock buried itself to the hilt inside her. Wonyoung screamed. The sound was raw and uncontrolled—nothing like the polished idol voice, nothing like the careful, measured tones she'd used earlier. This was pure animal. Pure sensation.
"Oh fuck—oh fuck—you're in my stomach—I can feel you in my stomach—"
"Good. Now move."
She lifted her hips. The drag of her walls against your shaft made your vision swim. When she dropped back down, the impact sent a visible ripple through her ass. The cheeks jiggled with the force of it.
"Yes—" She did it again. Faster. "Yes—this is—this is what I wanted—this is what I needed—"
"Tell me what it feels like."
"Full. So full. Like—like I'm being split open. Like I'm being—ah—like I'm being claimed." She was moving faster now, finding a rhythm, her hips rolling in a way that spoke to years of dance training. The muscles in her back flexed and released with each stroke. "But I'm the one claiming you. I'm the one—I'm the one in control—"
"That's right. You're in control. Take your pleasure, Wonyoung. Take all of it."
Her pace quickened. The wet sounds of her cunt filled the bedroom—a slick, rhythmic slap every time she bottomed out. Your cock was coated in her arousal, glistening in the city light. She reached back with one hand and grabbed your chest—not for balance, but for leverage, pulling herself harder onto you with each stroke.
"Touch my—touch my breasts—please—I need—"
You reached up and cupped her breasts from behind. The position was awkward but the effect was immediate—Wonyoung's rhythm faltered, then resumed faster than before. You pinched her nipples and she sobbed.
"Yes—yes—harder—"
You twisted. She keened. Her hips became a blur—up and down, up and down, fucking herself on your cock with a desperation that bordered on violence. Her head was thrown back now, her dark hair cascading down her spine, her whole body sheened with sweat.
"I'm close—I'm getting close again—I can feel it building—"
"Look at you. Jang Wonyoung. The nation's sweetheart. Riding a stranger's cock in her marital bed. Moaning like an animal. Dripping down my thighs."
"Yes—yes—I'm dripping—I'm making a mess—Seok-joong would hate this—he'd hate how wet I am—he'd hate how—how much I love it—"
"How much do you love it?"
"So much—so fucking much—I love being full—I love being stretched—I love being in control—I love that you're letting me—" Her voice cracked. "I love that you're letting me take what I need—"
The tears started then.
They came without warning—a sudden spill from her eyes, tracking down her cheeks and dripping onto your thighs. Her rhythm faltered. Her breathing hitched and broke into sobs.
"I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I don't know why I'm—"
"Don't stop." You squeezed her breasts gently. "Don't apologize. Keep moving. Let it out."
"I can't—I can't stop crying—" But her hips kept moving. Slower now, but still moving. "It's just—it's been so long—I've been so alone—"
"I know."
"No one touches me. No one looks at me. No one wants me. I'm just—I'm just a thing he bought and forgot about—"
"You're not a thing. You're a woman. A beautiful, passionate woman who deserves to be touched and wanted and pleasured. Keep moving. Let yourself feel it."
The sobs grew louder. Her hips moved faster, chasing the release that was building despite—or maybe because of—the tears. Her hand tightened on your chest, nails digging crescents into your skin.
"I want to come—please—please let me come—"
"It's yours. Take it. Come on my cock, Wonyoung. Come while you're crying. Come while you're in control. Show me what you look like when you let go."
She shattered.
The orgasm hit her like a wave—a convulsive, full-body spasm that made her back arch and her thighs clamp around your hips. Her cunt seized around your shaft, a rhythmic pulsing that milked you from base to tip. The scream that tore from her throat was wordless and raw, echoing off the penthouse windows.
And then she squirted.
The fluid gushed around your cock—a hot, copious flood that soaked your thighs and the sheets beneath you. Wonyoung's hips kept moving through it, grinding down onto you, drawing out every pulse of her climax. The squelching sounds were obscene. Her sobs mingled with moans.
"Oh god—oh god, I'm still—it's still going—I can't stop—"
"Don't stop. Take everything."
She rode the orgasm until her thighs gave out. Then she collapsed backward, her spine landing against your chest, her head falling back onto your shoulder. Her cunt was still spasming weakly around your cock. Her chest heaved. Her face was a wreck—tears and sweat and smeared mascara that she hadn't been wearing.
You wrapped your arms around her waist and held her.
The silence stretched. Outside, the Han River glittered in the darkness, indifferent to everything happening in this penthouse. Wonyoung's breathing gradually slowed. The tremors in her thighs subsided.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You don't have to thank me."
"I know. I want to." She turned her head, her cheek pressed against your chest. "No one's ever… I've never cried during sex before. I've never cried at all. Not since the wedding. I thought I'd forgotten how."
"Tears are just your body's way of releasing what you've been holding too long."
She laughed—a small, wet sound. "You sound like a therapist."
"I've had practice."
Silence again. Then, quieter: "Will you stay? Not—not for more sex. Just… stay. Until I fall asleep. I don't want to be alone tonight."
You pressed a kiss to her damp temple. "I'll stay."
Wonyoung sighed. The sound was different from before—not resignation, but relief. The relief of a woman who'd finally let go of something she'd been carrying for years.
"Good," she murmured. "That's good."
She closed her eyes. In the penthouse bedroom, with the city lights glittering below and your cock still half-hard inside her, Jang Wonyoung finally stopped trembling.
You held her until her breathing evened out. Until her body went slack against yours. Until the tears on her cheeks dried to salt and the wetness between her thighs cooled on your skin.
Tomorrow, you'd leave. Tomorrow, she'd go back to being Jang Wonyoung, idol-turned-trophy-wife, and you'd go back to whatever Senior Park had lined up next.
But tonight, she wasn't a photograph. Tonight, she was just a woman who'd remembered how to feel.
And that, you'd learned, was worth more than any paycheck the agency could offer.
Waking came in stages.
First, the soft gray light of early morning pressing against your eyelids. The penthouse windows had no curtains—Wonyoung liked to wake with the sun, you'd learn later—and the Han River was a sheet of hammered silver outside the glass.
Second, the weight. Or rather, the absence of it. Sometime in the night she'd shifted off your chest, and now the mattress beside you was warm but empty.
Third, the sensation.
Wet. Hot. A rhythmic pressure that started at the base of your cock and traveled upward in slow, deliberate pulls. Your hips stirred before your mind caught up—an instinctive response, the body recognizing pleasure before the brain had finished booting up.
You opened your eyes.
Wonyoung was between your legs.
Her dark hair spilled across your thighs in a tangled mess, still sleep-mussed from the night before. The sheet had slipped off her shoulders, leaving her bare—the long sweep of her spine, the curve of her ass, the soles of her feet crossed at the ankle behind her. She'd positioned herself on her stomach, propped on her elbows, and her mouth was wrapped around your cock.
She was still learning. The technique was messier than Karina's had been—more enthusiasm than skill, more eagerness than precision. Her tongue moved in uncertain patterns, tracing the ridge of the head, then the vein underneath, then back again as if she couldn't decide which part she wanted to taste most. Saliva pooled at the corners of her lips and dripped down your shaft, slicking her fingers where they curled around the base.
But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in something else. Something rarer.
She was happy.
You could see it in the way her cheeks bunched—the muscles straining to smile even with her lips stretched wide. In the little hums that vibrated through your shaft every time she took you deeper. In the way her hips wiggled slightly, a tiny dance of satisfaction, like a cat kneading a favorite blanket.
You chuckled. The sound was rough with sleep.
Wonyoung's eyes flicked up to meet yours. They were clearer than they'd been last night—the hollowness replaced by something bright and mischievous. She didn't stop sucking. If anything, she redoubled her efforts, her head bobbing faster, her tongue working the underside of your shaft with renewed determination.
"What a cheeky girl," you murmured.
Your hand found her head. Your fingers threaded through the dark tangles of her hair, not pulling, not directing—just holding. Just letting her feel the weight of your palm against her scalp. Wonyoung's eyes fluttered closed. The hum she made this time was different—softer, more satisfied. A sound of pure contentment.
She pulled back until just the tip remained in her mouth. Her tongue circled the head—once, twice, a slow figure-eight that made your breath catch. Then she pushed forward again, taking you deeper than before, and you felt the head of your cock bump the back of her throat.
She gagged. Coughed. Pulled back with a wet, gasping laugh.
"Too much?" you asked.
"Not enough." Her voice was hoarse—fucked raw from the night before, from the screaming and the crying and now this. "I wanted to… I woke up and you were still here and I just wanted to…"
"To what?"
"To taste you. Before you left." She rested her cheek against your thigh, her breath warm on your damp skin. "Is that weird?"
"No." You stroked her hair. "It's not weird."
"I've never done that before. The morning thing. I've never woken up next to someone and thought… I want to make them feel good. Just because." Her fingers traced idle patterns on your hip. "I've never woken up next to anyone, actually. Seok-joong never stayed the night. Even when we were engaged. He said he couldn't sleep in unfamiliar beds."
"His own bed was unfamiliar?"
Wonyoung's laugh was bitter. "I was the unfamiliar part."
You sat up. The movement dislodged her from your thigh, and she rose with you—sitting back on her heels, her hair a wild curtain around her shoulders, her lips swollen and slick. The morning light caught the angles of her face, the sharp cheekbones and the full mouth, and for a moment she looked exactly like the magazine covers. The nation's sweetheart. The girl who'd debuted at fourteen and never stopped smiling for cameras.
But the smile she gave you now was different. Smaller. Realer. A smile that belonged to her and no one else.
"Come here," you said.
She came. You gathered her in your arms and lifted her—bridal style, her long legs draped over one arm, her head cradled against your shoulder. She was lighter than you'd expected. All those years of dieting for comebacks, probably. All those years of being told she needed to be smaller, thinner, more perfect.
"The shower," you said. "We're both a mess."
"Your fault." But she was grinning as she said it.
"Entirely."
The bathroom was all white marble and chrome fixtures, with a rainfall showerhead even larger than Karina's. You set Wonyoung down on the heated tile floor—her bare feet made a soft sound against the stone—and reached into the glass enclosure to turn on the water. Steam began to fill the room almost immediately.
She stepped into the shower first. You followed.
The water was hot but not scalding, beating down on your shoulders and back in a steady rhythm. Wonyoung tilted her face up into the spray, letting it run over her closed eyelids and down her throat. The mascara she hadn't been wearing was still absent, and without it she looked younger. Not twenty-nine. Not the weary trophy wife from last night. Just a woman in the morning, clean and bare and unguarded.
You reached for the body wash—something floral, jasmine maybe—and worked it into a lather between your palms.
"Turn around," you said.
She did. You started with her shoulders, the same way you had with Karina. The same ritual. The same aftercare. The same reminder that what happened in the bedroom wasn't just about sex—it was about being seen. Being handled. Being treated like a body that mattered.
Wonyoung sighed as your hands moved down her back. "You do this for all your clients?"
"The shower?"
"The… gentleness. The talking. The staying until morning."
"Most of them." You worked the soap into the dip of her spine, the curve of her hips. "The ones who need it."
"And how do you know which ones need it?"
You turned her around to face you. Water sluiced down between you, washing away the suds. Her eyes were level with your collarbone; she had to tilt her head back to meet your gaze.
"Because they're the ones who cry," you said. "And you cried."
Wonyoung's expression flickered—something passing through it too fast to name. Then she reached up and took the body wash from the shelf behind you. Poured some into her own palm. Worked it into a lather.
"Your turn," she said.
Her hands on your chest were tentative at first—the same hesitance from last night, the same uncertainty about what she was allowed to do. But as she grew bolder, her touch firmed. Her palms traced the lines of your pectorals, the ridges of your abdomen, the V of your hips. She was washing you, but she was also learning you. Mapping the geography of a body that wasn't hers.
"You're different from what I expected," she said.
"Different how?"
"I don't know. Less… transactional." She rinsed her hands under the spray. "When I called the agency, I thought it would be like ordering room service. Something mechanical. Something I could pretend didn't happen afterward. But this is…"
"This is?"
She looked up at you. The water had plastered her hair to her skull, darkened it to near-black. Droplets clung to her lashes.
"Real," she said. "This feels real."
You cupped her face in your hands. Your thumbs traced the sharp line of her cheekbones, the soft skin beneath her eyes. She leaned into the touch—pressed her cheek against your palm like a cat seeking warmth.
"It is real," you said. "Whatever happens in this room, whatever you feel—it's real. The pleasure is real. The tears are real. You're not pretending anymore. You're not performing. You're just… here."
"Just here." She tested the words. "I like that. I've never been 'just here' anywhere. There's always been a camera. Or a manager. Or a husband who wanted me to be somewhere else."
"Not here."
"Not here." She rose on her toes. Her lips brushed yours—soft, tentative, a question more than a statement. "Thank you."
"You already thanked me."
"I know. I want to do it again. Properly." She kissed you again, deeper this time. Her lips parted, and her tongue traced the seam of your mouth—asking permission, not demanding it. You opened for her, and she made a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, as her tongue met yours.
The kiss was different from the ones last night. Last night had been hungry. Desperate. A woman starving for contact and finally given permission to eat. This kiss was slower. Sweeter. A kiss of gratitude rather than need.
Her arms wrapped around your neck. Your hands found her waist. The water beat down on both of you, and the steam rose around you like a curtain, and for a long moment there was nothing in the world but this—the heat and the wet and the soft pressure of her mouth on yours.
When she finally pulled back, her lips were pinker than before. Kiss-swollen. The color had risen in her cheeks.
"I put my number in your phone," she said.
"You what?"
"While you were sleeping. Earlier. Before I…" She gestured vaguely downward, toward the general vicinity of your crotch. "I wanted to make sure you had it. In case you wanted to call. In case you wanted to…"
"To what?"
"To see me again. Not as a client. Not through the agency. Just… me." Her voice had gone smaller. The confidence from moments ago was fading, replaced by the same vulnerability you'd seen last night. "Is that allowed? Is that something you do?"
You considered the question. The agency had rules about this—Senior Park was very clear about keeping things professional, about not blurring the lines between service and relationship. But Senior Park wasn't here. And Wonyoung was looking at you with those too-big eyes, the ones that had been empty last night and were now full of something fragile and hopeful.
"It's allowed," you said. "But I should warn you—I'm not a boyfriend. I'm not going to be. Whatever this is, it's not going to become something else."
"I know." She didn't look disappointed. If anything, she looked relieved. "I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want another man who owns me. I just want… someone who sees me. Someone who touches me like I'm real. Someone who'll answer when I call." A pause. "Will you answer?"
"Every time."
She kissed you again—quick and fierce, a press of lips that was more gratitude than passion. Then she stepped back, out of the spray, and reached for a towel.
"You should go," she said. "Before I ask you to stay again."
The elevator ride down was quiet. No muzak. No mirrored walls. Just brushed steel and the soft hum of hydraulics and the memory of Wonyoung's voice: Please… call me again.
You checked your phone in the lobby. There it was, in your contacts, added sometime in the early morning hours while you were still asleep: Wonyoung ♡. The heart was a nice touch. A little cheeky. A little hopeful.
You smiled despite yourself.
Three days passed.
Senior Park called on a Friday.
"New client," he said, the same way he always did—that particular lilt in his voice that meant he was enjoying himself. "Actress. Very famous. Very married. Although her marriage is…" A pause. "Complicated."
"Complicated how?"
"You'll see. She's been asking for you specifically. Apparently your reputation is spreading."
"Who is it?"
"Moon Ga Young."
The name made you stop walking. You were on the street in Gangnam, the afternoon sun beating down on your neck, and for a moment you just stood there with the phone pressed to your ear.
"Moon Ga Young? The actress?"
"The one and only. Star of True Beauty. The Interest of Love. Half a dozen other dramas I've never watched but my wife loves." The rustle of papers on his end. "She's staying at the Signiel. Suite 2704. Tonight, eight o'clock."
"Wait." You stepped into the shade of a building, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. "Moon Ga Young is married? I didn't know that."
"Neither did anyone else. She kept it quiet. Very quiet. No press, no announcement, no wedding photos in the tabloids." Park's voice had gone sly. "The husband is some finance executive. American. Works in New York. They've been married for two years, and in those two years, he's been in Seoul for a total of six weeks. You do the math."
Six weeks out of a hundred and four. You did the math.
"Same story," you said.
"Same story, different window. The view from the Signiel is nicer, though. She's booked the suite for the whole weekend. Says she wants to take her time." Another pause. "She also said—and I quote—'Tell him I'm not fragile. Tell him I don't need the gentle version.' End quote."
You raised an eyebrow. "She said that?"
"Word for word. I think you're in for an interesting night."
The line went dead.
The Signiel Seoul occupied the 76th through 101st floors of the Lotte World Tower. It was the kind of hotel where the lobby was on the 79th floor and the elevator ride up made your ears pop. The kind of hotel where the staff wore suits that cost more than your monthly rent and the vases in the hallways were probably worth more than your car.
Suite 2704 was at the end of a quiet corridor. The door was a slab of dark wood with a brass number, and when you knocked, the sound was swallowed by the thick carpet.
"Come in. It's open."
The voice was lower than you'd expected. Smokier. The kind of voice that belonged in a noir film, all shadows and secrets.
You pushed the door open.
The suite was magnificent. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Seoul skyline, the city lights glittering below like a spill of diamonds. The furniture was modern and understated—a low gray sofa, a glass coffee table, an abstract painting that was probably worth more than everything you owned. The bedroom was visible through an open doorway, the bed enormous and white and untouched.
And there, on the balcony, stood Moon Ga Young.
She was smaller in person than she appeared on screen. The camera had a way of adding presence, of making actors seem larger than life. In reality, she was petite—barely over five feet, with delicate wrists and a narrow frame that made her look almost breakable. Her hair was long and dark, falling past her shoulders in loose waves. Her face was the same one you'd seen in a dozen dramas—the wide eyes, the full lips, the delicate bone structure that made her look younger than her thirty-something years.
But the robe she was wearing was anything but delicate.
It was silk, pale champagne in color, and almost entirely transparent. The fabric clung to her body like a whisper, revealing the outline of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the dark triangle between her thighs. She wore nothing beneath it. The robe was held closed by a single sash, loosely tied, and as she turned to face you, the front gaped open slightly—just enough to confirm that yes, she was completely naked under there.
In one hand, she held a flute of champagne. The liquid was pale gold, the bubbles rising in lazy spirals.
"You're punctual," she said. "I like that."
"Senior Park said you didn't want the gentle version."
"Did he?" A smile played at the corner of her mouth. "I said I didn't need it. There's a difference." She raised the champagne flute to her lips and took a sip. Her eyes never left yours. "Would you like a drink? There's a bottle on the minibar. It's not cheap—I made sure of that."
"I'm working."
"So am I. Or at least, I'm about to be." The smile widened. "One drink won't hurt. Consider it part of the negotiation."
You crossed to the minibar. The champagne was vintage, the label one you recognized from a previous client's penthouse. You poured yourself a glass—not because you wanted it, but because refusing would mean ceding the rhythm of the encounter to her. And Ga Young, you were already beginning to understand, was someone who was used to setting the rhythm.
She joined you at the sofa. The robe gaped further as she sat, revealing the pale curve of one breast. She didn't bother to adjust it.
"So," she said, settling back against the cushions. "You're the man who made Karina cry."
You paused with the glass halfway to your lips. "She told you?"
"She told someone, who told someone, who told me. The idol world is small. Smaller than you'd think." Ga Young swirled her champagne. "The rumor is that you were… thorough. That you gave her exactly what she needed. That you didn't treat her like glass."
"I don't treat anyone like glass."
"No. I don't imagine you do." She leaned forward, setting her glass on the coffee table. The movement made the robe fall open completely, exposing the full length of her body. She didn't seem to notice. Or if she noticed, she didn't care. "Here's the thing. I've been married for two years. In those two years, I've had sex exactly four times. All of them on our wedding night. After that, my husband decided he preferred New York to Seoul. He calls me once a week, usually from his office, usually while he's doing something else. Reading emails. Checking stocks. He's never once asked me how I'm feeling."
"Does he know you're here?"
"He knows I'm at a hotel. He doesn't know why." Ga Young's smile was sharp. "He probably thinks I'm having a spa weekend. That's what he'd do, if he thought about it at all. 'Ga Young's having a spa weekend. How nice for her.'" The mimicry was cruel and precise. "He doesn't know me well enough to suspect anything else."
"And what are you looking for tonight?"
She leaned back. The robe fell open completely now, pooling on the cushions around her. She was leaner than Karina, leaner than Wonyoung—the body of a woman who'd spent years in front of cameras, who'd been told she needed to be thinner, always thinner. Her breasts were small, the nipples a pale pink. Her stomach was flat. The hair between her thighs was dark and neatly trimmed.
"I'm not looking for therapy," she said. "I'm not looking for someone to hold me while I cry. I'm not looking for validation or reassurance or any of the things your other clients probably need." She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again. The movement was deliberate. Performative. "I'm looking for a good fuck. That's it. That's all. I want to be fucked so hard I forget my own name. I want to walk bowlegged tomorrow. I want to feel like a woman instead of a mannequin. Can you do that?"
You set your champagne glass down next to hers. "Safeword?"
"Red."
"Tap-out?"
"Three taps. Anywhere." She cocked her head. "You're very professional. I like that too."
"Part of the service."
"Then let's get started." She stood up. The robe stayed on the sofa, a champagne-colored puddle of silk. "The bedroom's through there. I want you to use every inch of that bed. I want you to use every inch of me. And I want you to stop treating me like I'm going to break." She walked toward the bedroom, her bare feet silent on the thick carpet. At the doorway, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. "I'm not going to break. I promise."
The bedroom was all windows on one side, the city lights spread out below like a circuit board. The bed was king-sized, the sheets white, the pillows arranged in a perfect geometric pattern. Ga Young climbed onto the mattress and positioned herself in the center—on her back, her arms above her head, her legs slightly apart. The pose was deliberate. A parody of submission. The same way she'd done everything so far—with a wink, with a smirk, with the implicit understanding that she was playing a role.
"The last time I had sex," she said, "was my wedding night. He was drunk. I was nervous. It lasted maybe six minutes. He fell asleep immediately afterward, and when I woke up the next morning, he was already on a plane to New York." She looked at the ceiling. "I didn't have an orgasm. I've never had an orgasm with another person. Not once. I'm thirty-four years old, and I've been faking it since I was twenty."
You unbuttoned your shirt. "You don't have to fake anything tonight."
"I know. That's why you're here." She watched you undress with open appraisal, her eyes tracking the movement of your hands. "I've done my research. I know about the agency. I know about Senior Park. I know about the other women you've been with. The idols. The heiresses. The wives. I know you're discreet. I know you're skilled. I know you're exactly what I need."
"Which is?"
She met your eyes. The smirk was gone. For the first time since you'd walked through the door, her expression was completely serious.
"Someone who isn't afraid of me," she said. "Everyone's afraid of me. My husband's afraid of me. My managers are afraid of me. The directors I work with are afraid of me. I'm Moon Ga Young. I'm the nation's sweetheart. I'm the girl next door who's been in a dozen dramas and never had a scandal." Her voice was flat. "People think I'm delicate. They think I'm fragile. They think I need to be protected. No one's ever looked at me and thought—she wants to be destroyed."
"Do you?"
"Yes." The word was barely a whisper. "God, yes. I want to be destroyed. I want to be ruined. I want someone to look at me and see what I really am, not what the cameras see. Not what my husband sees. Not what the public sees." She swallowed. "I want to feel something real. Even if it's pain. Even if it's rough. Especially if it's rough."
You finished undressing. Your clothes made a pile on the floor—shirt, pants, boxers. Your cock was already half-hard, responding to the challenge in her voice, the directness of her gaze. Ga Young looked at you and didn't flinch.
"Good," she said. "Now come here. I've been waiting two years for this. I'm not waiting any longer."
Moon Ga Young watched you undress with the eyes of a woman who'd spent two decades being looked at and had finally decided to do some looking of her own.
"On your knees."
The command landed in the space between you. Her lips curved—not quite a smile, more a recognition. This was what she'd asked for. This was what she'd been waiting two years to receive.
She slid off the bed. The movement was liquid, all those years of dance training and red carpet practice translating into something that looked effortless. Her knees met the carpet with a soft thud. The city lights through the window painted her bare skin in shades of amber and gold.
"Hands behind your back."
She complied. The position made her small breasts lift, the nipples still pale pink and tight. Her eyes stayed on yours. Defiant. Hungry. The smirk was still there, but it had thinned—become something sharper, more expectant.
You picked up the champagne-colored robe from where it had fallen on the sofa. The silk was cool and slippery in your hands. You pulled the sash free with one sharp tug, and the fabric whispered against itself as it came loose.
"Wrists."
Ga Young's smirk flickered. "You're going to tie me up?"
"I'm going to do a lot of things." You crouched behind her, looping the silk around her wrists. Not too tight—you knew the difference between restraint and injury—but snug enough that she'd feel the pull every time she moved. "You said you wanted to be destroyed. Destruction requires surrender. You can't be in control and be ruined at the same time."
"I know." Her voice was quieter now. The bravado was still there, but something else was bleeding through. Something that sounded almost like relief. "I know. That's the point."
You tied the knot. Tested it with two fingers. "Too tight?"
"No."
"Good."
You stood and walked around to face her. From this angle, with her wrists bound behind her back and her knees pressed into the carpet, she looked smaller than before. More vulnerable. The nation's sweetheart, stripped of her armor, kneeling naked in a hotel suite with her pulse visible in her throat.
"Open your mouth."
Ga Young's lips parted. Her tongue was pink, wet, waiting. You took hold of your cock—fully hard now, thick and veined, the head already slick with the first bead of precum—and guided it toward her waiting mouth.
"Wider."
She stretched her jaw. The corners of her lips went taut. You pressed the head against her tongue, and she made a sound—something between a hum and a whimper—as the taste of you filled her mouth.
"Good girl. Now take it. All of it."
You pushed forward.
The first few inches slid in easily. Her tongue moved beneath your shaft—uncertain at first, then finding its rhythm, tracing the ridge of the head, the sensitive spot just beneath. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. The suction was strong, practiced, the muscle memory of a woman who'd done this before even if it had been years.
Then you pushed deeper.
The head of your cock hit the back of her throat, and Ga Young gagged. The sound was wet and sudden—a choked, spluttering cough that made her whole body convulse. Her bound wrists strained against the silk. Her eyes watered. A thick string of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth and landed on her chest.
"Don't fight it. Relax your throat."
She tried. You could feel her trying—the way her muscles fluttered around your shaft, the way she forced herself to breathe through her nose. But the gag reflex was strong, and when you pushed another inch deeper, she convulsed again.
"Fuck—" The word came out muffled, garbled around your cock.
You pulled back. Let her gasp. A bridge of saliva connected your shaft to her bottom lip, stretching, then breaking.
"I can't—" She coughed again. "I can't take it all. It's too thick—"
"You can." You grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. Her throat was exposed now—a long, pale column, the skin delicate and unmarked. "You said you wanted to be ruined. Ruined means taking cock down your throat until you can't breathe. Ruined means gagging and choking and still pushing deeper. Do you understand?"
Ga Young's eyes met yours. They were wet now, the first tears clinging to her lashes. But behind them, something was blazing. Something that looked almost like joy.
"Yes."
"Then open your mouth."
She did. You pushed inside again, and this time you didn't stop. Your cock slid past her tongue, past the soft palate, into the tight grip of her throat. Ga Young's whole body seized. A guttural, choking sound vibrated through your shaft. Her bound hands clawed at the air behind her back. Her throat muscles clamped down around you—spasming, fighting, then slowly, gradually, yielding.
"There you go. Take it. Take all of it."
Your hips met her face. Your cock was buried to the hilt in her throat, and Ga Young's nose was pressed against your pubic bone. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Could only gag and choke and let the tears stream down her cheeks while you held her there, impaled on your length.
You held the position for a count of five. Then ten. Her face was turning red. Her body was writhing—not fighting, not trying to escape, but writhing with the sheer overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled.
You pulled back.
Ga Young gasped. The inhale was ragged and desperate, followed by a coughing fit that made her whole body shake. Saliva dripped from her chin. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy, her carefully arranged hair a tangled mess.
"More," she rasped. "Give me more."
You slapped her.
The crack of your palm against her cheek echoed through the suite. Ga Young's head snapped to the side. A red mark bloomed on her pale skin—the shape of your hand, stark and undeniable.
"Did I tell you to speak?"
She shook her head. The defiance was still there, but it was muted now—submerged beneath something deeper. Something that looked almost like peace.
"Then don't speak. Your mouth has one purpose right now. Do you understand?"
She nodded. Her cheek was still red. The tears had multiplied, tracking mascara-less lines down her face.
"Good. Now show me you understand."
She opened her mouth. Leaned forward. Took your cock between her lips with a hunger that bordered on worship. This time, when you pushed into her throat, she didn't gag. She swallowed around you—a deliberate, rhythmic clenching that traveled from her throat to the base of your shaft. The sensation was electric. Your vision swam.
"That's it. That's my good little throat-whore."
She moaned. The vibration traveled through her throat and into your cock, and the pleasure was so intense that your hips bucked involuntarily. You grabbed her head with both hands—fingers tangled in her hair, thumbs pressed against her temples—and began to fuck her face in earnest.
The rhythm was brutal. Deep, driving strokes that bottomed out against the back of her throat with every thrust. The wet sounds were obscene—squelching, choking, gagging, the slap of your balls against her chin. Ga Young's bound hands clenched and unclenched behind her back. Her body swayed with the force of your thrusts. Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears streaming freely, but she never pulled away. Never tapped out. Never gave any signal that she wanted this to stop.
"You love this. You love being used like a toy. Tell me you love it."
She couldn't speak—not with your cock buried in her throat—but she moaned again. The sound was desperate. Affirmative. Broken.
"Then take it. Take every inch. I'm going to come down your throat, and you're going to swallow every drop. Do you understand?"
Another moan. Higher-pitched. Almost frantic.
You fucked her throat faster. The tension was building—a coiling pressure at the base of your spine that spread outward, downward, gathering force with every stroke. Ga Young's throat muscles were fluttering around you now, spasming in rhythm with her muffled moans. Her body was trembling. Her bound hands had gone limp behind her back, all the fight drained out of her.
"I'm close—fuck, I'm close—"
You slammed into her throat one last time and held there. Buried to the hilt. Her nose crushed against your pelvis. Her throat working desperately around your shaft, trying to swallow, trying to breathe, trying to do everything at once.
The orgasm hit you like a freight train.
The first pulse of cum shot directly down her throat—thick, hot, copious. You felt her swallow reflexively, the muscles of her esophagus contracting around your shaft. The second pulse followed immediately, and the third, and the fourth, each one painting her throat white with your seed. You kept your grip on her head, holding her in place, making sure she couldn't pull away until every last drop was drained.
"Swallow. All of it."
She did. You felt her throat constrict again and again, gulping down your cum with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. When you finally pulled back, a thick string of saliva and semen connected your cock to her bottom lip. Ga Young's mouth hung open. Her tongue was coated white. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, staring at something only she could see.
She swallowed once more. Licked her lips. The taste of you was still on her tongue, and she savored it—closing her eyes, letting out a small, satisfied hum.
"Thank you," she whispered.
The words were hoarse. Fucked-raw. Barely audible. But the gratitude in them was real.
"We're not done."
Ga Young's eyes opened. The smirk was back—smaller now, more fragile, but still there. "I know."
You untied her wrists. The silk sash left faint red marks on her skin—nothing that would bruise, nothing that would last, but enough to remind her tomorrow of what had happened tonight. She rubbed her wrists absently. Then she looked up at you, and the question in her eyes was clear: What now?
"Against the wall."
She rose. Her legs were unsteady—the long minutes of kneeling had left her knees red, her thighs trembling. She crossed to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed her palms against the glass. The city lights glittered below, indifferent to the scene unfolding above them. Her reflection stared back at her—naked, disheveled, marked.
"Spread your legs."
She did. The position opened her completely—the long line of her spine, the curve of her ass, the dark cleft between her cheeks. Her cunt was visible from this angle, the lips swollen and glistening. She was wet. Had been wet since the moment you'd pushed into her throat, probably. Maybe since the moment you'd walked through the door.
You stepped behind her. Your left hand found her throat—not squeezing, not yet, just resting there, a reminder of who was in control. Your right hand slid down her back, over the curve of her ass, between her cheeks. You spread her open, exposing the tight pink knot of her asshole, the darker, wetter flesh of her cunt below.
"Look at you. Moon Ga Young. The nation's sweetheart. Bent over against a hotel window with her cunt dripping and her throat full of cum. What would your fans think?"
"I don't care." Her voice was raw, almost defiant. "I don't care what they think. I don't care what anyone thinks. Just fuck me. Please. Fuck me like you mean it."
You tightened your grip on her throat. Not enough to cut off air—just enough to make her feel the pressure. Just enough to remind her that you could.
"Beg."
"Please." The word came out strangled. "Please fuck me. I've been waiting two years. Two years of empty beds and empty phone calls and pretending I'm fine when I'm dying inside. Please. I need this. I need you. I need your cock inside me. I need to feel something real. Please—"
You thrust into her cunt in one brutal motion.
Ga Young screamed.
The sound was raw and animal—nothing like the polished, controlled voice she used in interviews. This was a scream torn from somewhere deep inside her, a scream that had been building for two years and finally found its release. Her cunt was tight—tighter than you'd expected, the walls clenching around your shaft with a force that made your breath catch. She was soaked, though, and the slick heat of her made the brutal entry possible.
"Oh fuck—oh fuck—you're so deep—"
You didn't give her time to adjust. You pulled back and slammed forward again, harder than before. The impact made her palms squeak against the glass. Her breasts pressed against the window, leaving smears of sweat on the pristine surface. Your left hand stayed on her throat, your right hand gripping her hip, and you fucked her with a rhythm that was punishing.
"This is what you wanted. This is what you begged for. To be fucked like an animal. To be used like a toy. To be ruined."
"Yes—yes—harder—"
You gave her harder. The wet sounds of her cunt filled the suite—squelching, slapping, the rhythmic thud of your hips meeting her ass. You could see her reflection in the window—her mouth open, her eyes half-closed, her cheeks flushed and tear-streaked. The idol image was gone. Completely obliterated. What was left was just a woman, raw and desperate, taking cock like she'd been starving for it.
You tightened your grip on her throat. Squeezed. Not enough to cut off her air entirely, but enough to make her lightheaded. Enough to make the edges of her vision go dark. Ga Young's eyes rolled back. Her mouth opened wider. A strangled sound escaped her—half moan, half gasp.
"That's it. Feel that? Feel how deep I am? Feel how full you are? This is what you needed. Not the fame. Not the money. Not the perfect husband who never touches you. This. Just this. Just a cock in your cunt and someone who knows how to use it."
"YES—YES—THIS IS—"
You released her throat. She gasped—a huge, ragged inhale that made her whole body shudder. Then you grabbed her hips with both hands and fucked her even harder. The pace was brutal now—piston-like, relentless, each thrust driving her against the window with a force that made the glass vibrate. Her ass rippled with every impact. Her breasts bounced. Her reflection stared back at her with wild eyes and a slack mouth, and she looked at herself like she didn't recognize what she was seeing.
"Look at yourself. Look at what you've become. You're not an actress right now. You're not a wife. You're just a wet hole. A set of holes. A body that exists to be fucked. Do you see her?"
"I see her—" Ga Young's voice was broken, sobbing. "I see her—I see myself—"
"And what do you see?"
"A whore." The word came out on a sob. "A desperate, dripping whore who's been neglected for two years and finally has a cock inside her. I see a whore. I see a whore. I see—"
You felt her cunt seize around you. The orgasm was sudden and violent—a convulsive, full-body spasm that made her back arch and her legs give out. You caught her before she collapsed, pinning her against the window with your body, and kept fucking her through it. The clenching of her walls was rhythmic, almost painful in its intensity, milking your shaft from base to tip.
"That's it—that's it—come on my cock—come while you're watching yourself—"
"I'm coming—I'm coming—oh god, I'm—"
She squirted. The fluid gushed around your cock, soaking your thighs, splashing against the window, dripping down the glass in long, obscene rivulets. Ga Young's scream was wordless, primal, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than her throat. Her body convulsed in your arms. Her cunt pulsed and fluttered around your shaft, and the sensation was so intense that you felt your own orgasm building—a tightening pressure at the base of your spine.
But you weren't done.
You pulled out of her. Ga Young whimpered at the emptiness. Her cunt gaped for a moment, then clenched around nothing, gushing another pulse of fluid onto the carpet. You turned her around—roughly, hands on her shoulders, spinning her like a doll—and pushed her back against the window. Her shoulder blades hit the glass. Her eyes were wild, unfocused, still hazy from the orgasm.
"Hold onto me."
Her arms wrapped around your neck. Her legs wrapped around your waist. You gripped her thighs and lifted her, positioning her cunt above your cock, and thrust inside her in one smooth motion.
Ga Young's head fell back against the glass. "Oh ffffuuuuck—"
"You wanted to be ruined. I'm not finished ruining you."
You fucked her against the window. The position was different—deeper, somehow, the angle letting you hit spots inside her that you hadn't reached before. Ga Young's moans were continuous now, a stream of broken syllables and guttural sounds that didn't belong to any language. Her nails dug into your shoulders. Her heels pressed into the small of your back. Her cunt was a mess—slick and swollen and pulsing, still gushing intermittently with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
"Harder—please—harder—"
You slammed into her. The window rattled. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that there were probably people in the building across the street, people with binoculars, people who might be watching. Let them watch. Let them see what Moon Ga Young looked like when she was being fucked properly. Let them see the nation's sweetheart with her legs wrapped around a stranger, her cunt dripping down his thighs, her mouth open in a scream that had no end.
"Look at me."
She forced her eyes to focus. They were glassy, tear-filled, but they met yours.
"You're going to come again. You're going to come on this cock while I'm choking you. And you're going to watch yourself in the reflection while you do it. Do you understand?"
"Yes—yes—"
Your left hand found her throat again. Squeezed. Harder this time. Ga Young's face began to flush. Her lips parted. Her eyes rolled back. But she didn't tap out. Didn't signal. Didn't do anything except moan—a thin, wheezing sound that vibrated against your palm.
"That's it. Let go. Let yourself fall."
You fucked her harder. The rhythm was punishing—deep, driving strokes that bottomed out against her cervix with every thrust. Your right hand found her clit, the swollen bundle of nerves slick and hard under your fingertip. You pressed down. Circled. Ga Young's body convulsed.
Her orgasm hit like an explosion.
This one was different from the first—quieter, deeper, more devastating. Her cunt clamped down on your cock with a force that almost hurt. Her whole body went rigid, every muscle locked, every breath held. Then the release came, and it came with a flood. Her cunt gushed around your shaft—not just wetness this time, but a clear, copious fluid that sprayed against your thighs and soaked the carpet beneath you.
"Fuuuuuuuck—"
Her voice broke on the word. Her body went limp. Completely limp. She collapsed against you, her head falling onto your shoulder, her arms sliding from your neck. Her cunt was still pulsing weakly around your cock—little flutters of sensation that traveled up your shaft.
You released her throat. She gasped—a huge, ragged inhale—and then she started to laugh.
It wasn't a happy laugh. It wasn't bitter, either. It was the laugh of a woman who'd been holding something inside for years and had finally, finally let it out. The laugh turned into sobs, and the sobs turned into silence, and through all of it you held her against the window, your cock still buried inside her, your hands gentle on her back.
She kept saying it. Over and over. Like a prayer. Like a confession. Like the only words she had left.
You carried her to the bed. Laid her down on the white sheets. Her body was marked—red impressions of your fingers on her throat, faint bruises already forming on her hips, her cunt swollen and gaping and still leaking onto the mattress. She looked up at you with eyes that were clearer than they'd been all night.
"Stay," she said. "Please. Just until I fall asleep."
You climbed into the bed beside her. Pulled the sheets over both of you. Ga Young curled against your chest, her face pressed into the hollow of your throat, her breath warm on your skin.
"I haven't felt this alive in years," she murmured. "I haven't felt anything in years."
"Feel it now."
She did. Her breathing slowed. Her body relaxed. The tension that had been coiled in her muscles since the moment you'd walked through the door finally, fully released.
Outside the window, the city glittered on, indifferent and eternal. Inside the suite, Moon Ga Young closed her eyes, and for the first time in two years, she slept without dreaming of being somewhere else.
The morning light through the Signiel's floor-to-ceiling windows was the color of honey. It pooled on the white sheets, caught the edge of the champagne flute still sitting on the coffee table, painted Ga Young's bare shoulder in shades of gold.
She was still asleep.
Her breathing was slow and even, her face half-buried in the pillow, her dark hair fanned across the cotton like spilled ink. The marks from last night were already fading—the faint impressions on her throat, the bruises on her hips. In sleep, she looked younger. Softer. The sharp, sardonic edge that had defined her when you'd walked through the door had melted away, replaced by something unguarded.
You slid out of bed carefully. The sheets whispered against your skin. Ga Young stirred but didn't wake—just shifted, her hand reaching out to the empty space where you'd been, her fingers curling around nothing.
You dressed in silence. Shirt. Pants. Belt. The routine was automatic, muscle memory from a dozen similar mornings. The suite was quiet except for the distant hum of the HVAC system and the soft shush of traffic eighty floors below. Your shoes were by the sofa where you'd kicked them off. You bent to pick them up.
"Where are you going?"
The voice was sleep-roughened but still unmistakably hers—that smoky, noir-film cadence that made everything sound like a secret. You turned.
Ga Young was sitting up in bed. The sheet had fallen to her waist. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes still puffy from sleep and last night's tears. She looked nothing like the polished actress from the dramas. She looked like a woman who'd been thoroughly fucked and had slept better than she had in years.
"Home," you said. "You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you."
She laughed. The sound was low and warm and entirely unselfconscious. "Nuh uh." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, crossing the room toward you with the sheet still trailing behind her like a train. "I'm still your client. The weekend, remember? You're not going anywhere."
She reached you and wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. Her cheek pressed against your spine. Her bare breasts flattened against your back, and the warmth of her body seeped through your shirt. She smelled like sex and sleep and the faint floral remnants of whatever expensive soap the Signiel stocked in its bathrooms.
"Ga Young—"
"Shh." Her arms tightened. "You're not leaving. Not yet. Not until I say so."
The suite door clicked open.
You heard it before you saw it—the soft sound of the electronic lock disengaging, followed by the whoosh of the door swinging on its hinges. Two voices drifted in from the hallway, mid-laugh, the kind of easy, familiar laughter that came from years of friendship.
"—and then he said, 'That's not a prop, that's my actual—'" The voice cut off.
Karina stood in the doorway.
Wonyoung was right behind her.
They were both carrying shopping bags—the discreet, expensive kind that came from boutiques in Cheongdam-dong, the logos embossed in subtle gold foil. They were both wearing black outerwear—Karina in a long trench coat, Wonyoung in a cropped leather jacket—and they were both staring at you with expressions that shifted from surprise to recognition to something else entirely.
Something hungrier.
"Unnie!" Ga Young's voice was delighted. She released you and stepped around, completely unbothered by her nudity, the sheet slipping from her shoulders and pooling on the floor. "You're early. I thought you weren't coming until noon."
Karina's eyes flicked from you to Ga Young and back again. A slow smile spread across her face. "We wanted to surprise you." She stepped into the suite, and Wonyoung followed, closing the door behind her. "But it looks like you're the one with the surprise."
"Wait." You looked at Ga Young. Then at Karina. Then at Wonyoung. "You three know each other?"
"We're best friends." Wonyoung's voice was light, almost teasing. She set her shopping bag down on the console table by the door. "We've been best friends for years. Since trainee days. Did you really think it was a coincidence that we all ended up calling the same agency?"
"We talk," Karina said. She was still smiling, but there was something sharper beneath it—a blade hidden in silk. "We talk about everything. The husbands. The loneliness. The emptiness." She paused. "The men we hire to make us feel alive again."
Ga Young had retrieved her robe from the floor—the champagne-colored silk, still wrinkled from last night—and was tying it loosely around her waist. "When I heard that Karina unnie had found someone who actually made her come, I had to see for myself. And then Wonyoungie called me the next morning, practically glowing, and I knew." She turned to you, her eyes bright. "I knew I had to book you. And I knew I had to make it a weekend."
"A weekend?"
"Senior Park didn't tell you?" Karina's trench coat was already unbelted. She shrugged it off her shoulders, and it slid to the floor in a whisper of black fabric. Beneath it, she was wearing lingerie—not the practical black lace from your first encounter, but something deliberately chosen. A deep burgundy set, the color of aged wine, the bra cupping her breasts in a way that made them look fuller, the panties high-cut and sheer. "This booking is for all three of us. The whole weekend. Friday to Sunday."
Wonyoung was unzipping her leather jacket. Her movements were slower than Karina's, more deliberate, but no less confident. The jacket came off, and beneath it was a pale lavender set—the color soft against her skin, the fabric delicate, almost bridal. The contrast between the innocent lingerie and the knowing look in her eyes was intentional. You could see it in the way she tilted her head, the way she watched you watching her.
"Three clients," she said. "Three women who need to be reminded what it feels like to be touched." She stepped closer. "Three women who've been talking about you for weeks."
On the coffee table, you noticed for the first time a folded piece of paper. It was propped against the champagne bottle, your name written on the front in Senior Park's precise, old-fashioned handwriting. You crossed to it and picked it up.
Your client for this weekend is the three of them. They've been planning this for a month. Don't disappoint them. — SP
You swallowed.
The sound was audible in the quiet suite. Ga Young heard it and laughed—that same low, warm laugh from before. "Nervous? The man who made me come twice against a window is nervous?"
"Not nervous." You folded the note and tucked it into your pocket. "Just… recalibrating."
"Recalibrate faster." Karina had crossed the room to stand beside Ga Young. The two of them together were a study in contrasts—Karina's burgundy against Ga Young's champagne, the idol's sharp, aggressive beauty against the actress's delicate, knowing allure. "We've been waiting a long time for this. All three of us. We've been planning it ever since Wonyoungie called me the morning after your session."
"I didn't just call her." Wonyoung had moved to your other side, bracketing you between the three of them. Her lavender lingerie made her skin look luminous, the pale tea-colored nipples visible through the sheer fabric. "I told her everything. Everything you did. Everything you said. Every way you made me feel." Her voice dropped, became something softer, more intimate. "And she told me what you did with her. And then Ga Young unnie said she wanted to find out for herself, and we decided—why not all three of us? Why not a weekend?"
"Because none of us has ever had this." Ga Young's hand found your shoulder. Her fingers traced the line of your collarbone through your shirt. "None of us has ever had a man who knew what he was doing. Who cared about making us feel good. Who looked at us like we were women instead of objects." She paused. "We wanted to share you. Just for a weekend. Just to remember what it feels like."
"To be alive," Karina said.
"To be wanted," Wonyoung added.
"To be fucked properly," Ga Young finished.
The three of them were close now. Close enough that you could smell them—Karina's perfume, something floral and expensive; Wonyoung's shampoo, jasmine and vanilla; Ga Young's skin, still warm from sleep, still carrying the faint musk of last night's sex. They were looking at you with the same expression. The same hunger. The same desperate, aching need that you'd seen in each of them individually but never all at once.
"Take off your shirt," Karina said.
The command was soft but firm. The same voice she'd used when she'd first welcomed you to her mansion, but stripped of the nervousness now. This was a woman who'd spent three weeks waiting for this moment. This was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
You unbuttoned your shirt. Slowly. Deliberately. The three of them watched every movement—the slide of each button through its hole, the parting of the fabric, the reveal of your chest. When you shrugged the shirt off your shoulders, Wonyoung made a small sound—a quiet, involuntary hum of appreciation.
"His body is different in the daylight," she murmured. "I couldn't see it properly last time. It was dark. I was…" She swallowed. "I was distracted."
"You were crying," Ga Young said. Not unkindly. Just matter-of-fact. "You told me you cried."
"I did. I cried a lot." Wonyoung's eyes met yours. "But I also came. Twice. The first real orgasms of my life."
"Mine too." Karina's voice was quieter now. "The first real ones. The only real ones."
Ga Young's hand slid from your shoulder to your chest. Her palm was warm against your skin. "And I came twice last night. The first time I've ever come with a partner. The first time I've ever come without faking it." Her fingers traced the line of your pectoral, down to your abdomen. "So you see, we have a lot to thank you for. And a lot more we want to experience."
"Together," Karina said.
"Together," Wonyoung echoed.
The word hung in the air between you. Together. Three women who'd spent years being neglected, being ignored, being treated like accessories to their husbands' careers. Three women who'd found each other in the loneliness and decided to do something about it. Three women who were looking at you now with the same expression—expectant, hungry, alive.
"Are you going to be able to handle all three of us?" Ga Young's voice was teasing, but there was a genuine question beneath the playfulness. "We're not going to be gentle with you. We've been planning this for a month. We have… ideas."
"Three days," Karina said. "Three women. One man." She stepped closer, close enough that her breasts—still encased in that burgundy lace—brushed against your arm. "Think you can keep up?"
"Senior Park seemed to think so." You looked at the note still folded in your pocket. "He wouldn't have booked me if he didn't."
"Senior Park is a smart man." Wonyoung had moved behind you. Her hands found your shoulders, her fingers pressing into the muscle, kneading gently. "He told us you were the best. He told us you could handle anything. He told us you wouldn't break."
"I won't break."
"Good." Ga Young's hand was still on your chest, her thumb tracing idle circles over your sternum. "Because we're not going to break you. We're going to use you. All three of us. However we want. Whenever we want. For the whole weekend." She looked up at you, and her eyes were dark and serious despite the smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Is that understood?"
"Understood."
"Good boy." She patted your chest and stepped back. "Then let's get started. The bedroom's big enough for all four of us. I checked."
She turned and walked toward the bedroom, the champagne robe trailing behind her like a whisper. Karina followed, her hips swaying with that dancer's grace she'd never lost despite years away from the stage. Wonyoung released your shoulders and moved around you, her lavender lingerie pale against the gray walls of the suite, and when she reached the bedroom doorway, she looked back over her shoulder.
"Are you coming?"
The question was simple. The answer was simpler.
You followed them into the bedroom.
The bed was still rumpled from the night before—the sheets twisted, the pillows scattered, the faint impressions of Ga Young's body still visible on the mattress. The morning light was stronger here, flooding through the windows, making everything look clean and bright and new. The three women arranged themselves on the bed with the ease of long practice—Ga Young in the center, propped against the headboard; Karina on her left, sitting cross-legged with her burgundy lingerie stark against the white sheets; Wonyoung on her right, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her lavender set a soft contrast to the sharper colors around her.
They looked at you. Waiting.
"Clothes off," Ga Young said. "All of them. We want to see what we're working with."
You unbuckled your belt. The sound was loud in the quiet room. Three pairs of eyes tracked the movement of your hands—the slide of leather through the buckle, the pop of the button, the hiss of the zipper. Your pants fell to the floor. Your boxers followed.
Your cock was already half-hard. Responding to the attention, the anticipation, the sheer overwhelming presence of three beautiful women watching you undress. Ga Young's eyes flicked down, then up again. The corner of her mouth twitched.
"He's bigger than I remembered," Karina murmured.
"He's thicker than I remembered," Wonyoung added.
"And he knows how to use it." Ga Young's voice was satisfied. "He used it in my throat last night. And in my cunt. And against the window." She gestured at the glass, still faintly smeared from where her body had pressed against it. "I left a mark."
"So did I." Wonyoung's voice was soft, almost wistful. "At my penthouse. On the sheets. I haven't washed them yet. I keep thinking I should, but I can't bring myself to do it."
"I know what you mean." Karina's eyes met yours. "I still have the sheets from my first time with him. They're in the back of my closet. Joon-ho never goes in there. He never goes anywhere in that house except his study and his bedroom." She paused. "He has his own bedroom. We've always had separate bedrooms. He said it was better for his sleep."
"Seok-joong has his own apartment." Wonyoung's voice was flat. "He lives there with his current girlfriend. A trainee. She's nineteen."
"My husband has his own continent." Ga Young's laugh was bitter. "He's been to Seoul for six weeks in two years. Six weeks. He's probably slept with half of Manhattan in that time."
The three of them were quiet for a moment. The morning light poured through the windows, and the city glittered below, and the three women on the bed were looking at each other with an expression that was part grief and part fury and part something else—something that looked almost like hope.
Then Ga Young shook her head. "No. No more talking about husbands. That's not what this weekend is for." She looked at you, and the fire was back in her eyes. "This weekend is for us. For pleasure. For release. For everything we've been denied." She patted the mattress beside her. "Come here. It's time to earn your paycheck."
You climbed onto the bed.
The mattress dipped beneath your weight. The three women shifted to accommodate you—Ga Young making room in the center, Karina and Wonyoung flanking her on either side. You ended up face-to-face with Ga Young, close enough to see the faint lines around her eyes, the small scar on her chin from some childhood accident, the way her pupils were already dilating with anticipation.
"Kiss me," she said. "Kiss me, and then kiss them. We've been waiting. We've all been waiting."
You kissed her.
It was different from last night's kisses. Last night had been about dominance—the rough press of lips, the battle for control, the assertion of power. This kiss was slower. More deliberate. A kiss of greeting rather than conquest. Ga Young's lips parted beneath yours, and her tongue met yours with a soft, exploratory touch. She tasted like sleep and champagne and something indefinably her.
When you pulled back, she was smiling. "Now Karina."
You turned. Karina was watching you with dark eyes, her burgundy lingerie stretched tight across her breasts, her breathing already uneven. She didn't wait for you to lean in. She closed the distance herself, her hands coming up to frame your face, her kiss hungry and urgent and full of three weeks of waiting.
"It's been too long," she whispered against your mouth. "Three weeks. Three weeks of thinking about you. Three weeks of touching myself and pretending it was your hands."
"And now?"
"Now I don't have to pretend." She kissed you again—quick and fierce—then pulled back. "Wonyoung's turn."
Wonyoung was the shyest of the three. She'd been hesitant last night, tentative in the penthouse, uncertain about what she was allowed to do. But now she leaned in with more confidence, her lips brushing yours with a gentleness that was almost teasing. Her hand found your chest, her palm flat against your sternum, feeling your heartbeat.
"I've been thinking about you too," she murmured. "Every night. Every morning. I've been thinking about what you did to me. What you made me feel." She kissed you again—longer this time, deeper. "I want to feel it again. All of it. Everything."
"You will."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She smiled. The expression transformed her face—made her look younger, lighter, more like the idol she'd been before the marriage and the neglect and the loneliness. "Good. Then let's get started. Ga Young unnie's been waiting the longest. She should get the first turn."
"Agreed." Karina was already shifting on the bed, repositioning herself to give Ga Young more room. "We've got three days. We can take our time."
"Three days," Ga Young echoed. She was lying back against the pillows now, her champagne robe falling open, her body bare and waiting. "Three days, three women, one man." She looked up at you, and her smile was sharp and hungry and full of promise. "Let's see what you're made of."
Shouting out a great site someone made for collecting fics by author, I have a link to it as "Smut Repo" on my profile as well, please go check it out!
Her eyes grow wide as she watches you exit the room.
"Don't go!"
Tzuyu is sitting next to Jihyo. As if you could hear her shout.
Jihyo's heart aches. How could they put you into this dangerous situation?
She unconsciously bites her nails as you close the door behind you. You lock it, letting the key fall into the fish tank next to it.
"He is gonna die."
Chaeyoung is the third Twice member, who is sitting on their couch.
"Don't jinx it."
Jihyo tries to hit her, without looking away.
You let out a heavy sigh, the sad OST adding fuel to the three girls' emotional fire.
Shouts can be heard in the background. Footsteps are coming closer.
You take the pistol out of your belt. The Japanese soldiers can be seen, running through the wooden inn.
"Please, please, please."
Tzuyu mumbles to herself, praying that you are gonna survive. You are the main lead. You have to!
You cock your Mauser C96, before placing your left hand on the steel door.
"Stay alive."
You whisper. Your eyes are watery, the chance of staying alive slim.
"No! Chu-soo!"
The woman behind the door rattles at it, trying to get to you.
"Please!"
Taking a deep breath, you step towards the stairs, ready to go up into the saloon.
"Don't."
Jihyo sighs, hoping you would stay safe. Where is the backup the old guy promised?
The first soldier appears on the top of the stairs. Just as he sees you, your pistol fires. His limb body falls down the stairs, coming to a halt right before you.
"He is gonna do it!"
Chaeyoung exclaims, her voice louder in excitement.
Another dead Japanese soldier falls down the stairs. You jump over both of the dead bodies, taking two steps at once.
Stepping into the saloon, you shoot a third soldier in the head.
Seo Yeji bangs against the door in the basement.
"Chu-soo!"
Tears flow down her face. She tries to open the door, but you locked it.
A single shot can be heard from upstairs. The screen turns black. The episode is over.
"No!"
Jihyo slumps back into the cushions, groaning in frustration.
Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are equally disappointed. How could they just let it end this way?
"One more minute!"
Karina groans in annoyance, wanting to scream at the person behind the door.
She tries to collect herself. With a low moan, she let's her fingers slip out of her warm core.
There is no way she is gonna get off now. How long has it been? At least two weeks. Maybe even longer. The last time she was with a guy? She can only roll her eyes. Even if she would have time for that, who is she supposed to approach? Some are just not attractive in her eyes. And most behave like boys. It doesn't matter to Karina if they do it on stage or off stage or both. She isn't into boys.
Fixing the lower half of her outfit, Karina makes sure she is presentable again. As she stands up, she looks herself up and down in the big mirror on the wall.
Her eyes fall onto the white top she is wearing.
"Fuck."
Karina mumbles, seeing the dark spot on the white fabric.
"Not again."
She sighs, unbuttoning her blouse. This has happened a lot the last couple of weeks. Luckily, she has something else to change into.
After getting rid off her blouse, Karina sees that her bra is stained as well.
The first time this happened, she was really concerned. What the fuck was going on? But after some research, she found out that this can happen due to stress. Especially to women with larger breasts.
Most of the time, Karina doesn't have a problem with them. Hers are on the bigger side, which her fans seem to like. But in moments like these, she wished that she would have a smaller chest.
Changing into a new bra as well, Karina ponders on how she can get rid of this problem. Occasionally lactating isn't great. Especially if you are on stage. It hasn't happened yet, but it could anytime.
The stress is getting to her, which makes the problem even worse. How can she get rid of this?
"Are you alright?"
The woman's eyes are fixated on the idol in front of her.
"Unnie?"
It takes Kwon Eunbi more than just a moment to realize that she was staring.
Once she gets caught, she starts to blush heavily. She tries to hide it, but the woman she is eating with gets the hint.
"Who is it?"
Eunbi shakes her head, embarrassed.
"It's nothing. I-I just have a lot on my mind."
Her manager chuckles, knowing Eunbi quite well by now. If she blushes this hard, it means she has seen a very attractive person.
She turns around, trying to find out whom Eunbi could've stared at.
"Stop it. You food is getting cold."
Eunbi is trying to stop her manager from looking around.
"If you are not gonna tell me..."
She sighs before she keeps eating her scrambled eggs.
Eunbi looks over her manager's shoulders, looking at the man who is getting a serving of the food in the company's cafeteria.
There is no way she could tell anyone whom she is looking at. You are eight years younger than her after all.
She watches how you walk closer, her cheeks slowly turning red. She watched the new episode that aired today.
You never really caught her eye before, even though the two of you are in the same company. But your current lead role in this new drama has Eunbi swooning.
Especially this last episode. Since it takes place right before the second World War, Joseon is occupied by the Japanese. After your fierce fight, you took a bath in the river nearby.
It was a replacement for the cliche shower scene a lot of k dramas have.
Up until that moment, Eunbi always enjoyed seeing your handsome face in the cafeteria and on screen. Despite the scar on your right cheek. She thinks it makes you look even rougher.
But after she's seen you half naked, she can't get her thoughts into their proper order. Eunbi expected you to be fit. Probably even slim. But she didn't expect your well defined abs. The way the water made it's way through the valleys of your muscles....
Eunbi almost chokes on her food as you now stand in front of her table.
It's not like the two of you know each other very well, but there aren't a lot of empty table left.
You greet both women politely, before starting to enjoy your food.
Kwon Eunbi's head rests on the soft material behind her. The sofa in her empty waiting room was just a too good of a chance to pass up on.
She is a very comfort loving woman, which means she has to feel safe and secure to indulge into her more carnal desires. But lately, Eunbi seems to become horny almost all the time. Especially while watching your drama or seeing you in the cafeteria.
She is currently attending a music show. While waiting for her time to shine, Eunbi decided she could try to get off real quick. It's not like she is missing inspiration.
Your face crosses her mind. Your abs, your broad back, your muscular arms...
Eunbi sighs heavily. If this drama is gonna have a sex scene, she is gonna die sooner rather than later.
Her cheeks flush red. But not just because of how good she feels. Shame is part of the reason as well. She can't believe she is crushing so hard on somebody who is younger than her. By eight years. Maybe this taboo adds to her heightened state of arousal.
When Eunbi hears the door open, her pleasure shatters into pieces. More shameful red colors her cheeks, her legs instinctively closing around her hand as she opens her eyes. They are full of fear now.
Two women stand in the door, both shocked at seeing Eunbi lying half naked on the sofa.
In her lust filled state, Eunbi's mind takes a moment to recognize the two people standing in the door. Park Jihyo and Yu Jimin.
"Seems like you have the same problem as us."
Jihyo's words embarrass Eunbi even further. How could this happen?
"We were looking for a quiet room to talk in."
The two women step inside. The older of the three still very aware that she is half naked.
"T-To talk about what?"
A quick glance at the coffee table makes Eunbi's heart sink even further. Her phone is still on. She tossed it away as her pleasure started to get the best of her. A picture of you in that river is lighting up the screen. Please...
The two girls don't seem to notice yet.
"About our needs."
Eunbi looks down on herself at Jimin's words.
"We never have time for, you know..."
The youngest seems a little embarrassed as well.
"There is no need to be shy."
Jihyo takes the lead, probably because she is used to it.
"The three of us are all visibly in need of some action. Am I wrong?"
The other two shake their heads.
"So we need something that can help us out."
"Or rather someone."
Jimin's comment makes Eunbi immediately think of you.
"Are you saying, the three of us should..."
Afraid to finish her sentence on her own, Eunbi looks at the two leaders of Twice and Aespa.
"Yeah."
Jihyo nods.
"It would be a hassle to find three guys for all of us. One might be enough."
Eunbi shudders at the thought. She never even had a threesome before. How is she gonna share a man with these two women? Although, it might be a good experience. There aren't really any cons, are there?
"So, are you in?"
Eunbi slowly nods at Jihyo's question.
Jimin closes the door behind the two as they both step fully inside the room.
"Any suggestions?"
Jihyo's question makes the older woman glance at her phone. Jimin seems to have caught it. She steps closer, before Eunbi can hide the display.
"Wow, unnie. He looks handsome. Who is he?"
Jihyo takes a closer look as well. Biting her lip, she feels her body reacting to your picture. She tried the same thing Eunbi had tried a couple of moments ago. But sharing a house with eight girls made it impossible.
"(Y/n) really is a great candidate."
"(Y/n)?"
Jimin heard that name before, but it takes her moment, since you haven't been really popular so far.
"You mean Lee (y/n)? The actor?"
"Yes."
Jihyo nods.
"He is the main lead in 'Death's fate'."
"He really looks hot."
Jimin takes another look at the picture.
"He is."
Jihyo sighs dreamily.
"I don't even remember how often I imagined myself riding his cock, while my hands glide over his abs..."
Jihyo shakes her head, coming back to reality. Her cheeks a little red.
"But how are we gonna ask him?"
Jimin's question makes Eunbi think.
"I might have an idea."
Now that her time has come, Eunbi is almost too scared to act. There you are, on screen, currently reading out something on your cue card. You became a substitute host for someone else for one of the music shows.
Eunbi is standing in her waiting room, waiting for you to finish. Your deep voice makes her feel comfortable whenever she hears it. As if it consists of warm honey. Sweet and soothing. But strong and powerful.
The stylist gave you a completely different look compared to yours in the drama. Gone is the handsome, rugged rebel.
The scar on your cheek doesn't stand out as much and you hair is showing curls in the front.
Eunbi leaves her room as soon as you get off stage. She walks in the direction you have to come from, ready to follow through with the three women's plan.
"Hello, sunbaenim."
You bow respectfully as you see Eunbi walking towards you. It's hard to not stare at her. Especially since she is smaller than you. Which currently enables you to have a good look at her inviting cleavage.
She captured your attention for the first time, when you saw her performances during the water bomb festival. You never really saw her as a sexy, mature woman. More like a friendly and sweet senior. But more than enough pictures of her voluptuous chest started to draw you towards her.
Today she is wearing an all pink outfit. The sides of her waist are exposed and her shoulders are only covered by the straps of her top. Her tits look as good as they always do.
You have to stop yourself from staring at them. Instead, you look at her gorgeous face.
Her cheeks seem to be tinted slightly more pink than usual.
"Hello, (y/n)."
She greets you with a seductive smile.
At least you think it is one. Or rather, you hope so.
"I wish you good luck for your performance. Can't wait to watch it."
It feels like your words are kinda awkward, but you can't help it. Eunbi just takes your breath away.
"Thank you. I hope you enjoy them."
You are puzzled for a moment. She only has one performance. What does she mean?
"Are you attending the year-end party by the way?"
"What party?"
Her question draws your attention away from her suggestive comment a moment ago.
"Oh, please don't tell me I forgot to invite you!"
Eunbi pretends to be truly embarrassed, hoping you swallow the bait.
"I-It's okay. I do have a lot of stuff to do anyway."
"No way."
Eunbi dramatically shakes her head.
"You have to join us now. I can't believe I forgot to invite you."
"Really, it's no big problem."
Eunbi takes your hand in hers.
"Please join us. The party takes place at a rented house at the beach. I will send you the address."
You nod hesitantly, still trying to get used to this new life. You were never popular before. And you never expected a famous and gorgeous person like Kwon Eunbi to invite you to her party.
"S-Sure. I will be there."
She flashes a great smile your way.
"But is there a dress code I have to worry about?"
Eunbi chuckles.
"It's just a party to celebrate the end of the year."
You nod in understanding.
"But if you want to shoot your shot with one of the guests, I suggest you bring your A game."
The confused look on your face makes her chuckle once again.
"You look cute like this. Bye."
She gives you a quick hug, before having to hurry towards the stage. Your heart is still pounding away. She just hugged you. Kwon Eunbi! And she told you you are cute!
Wait.
You are only able to properly comprehend what she said now. Is she trying to set you up with someone? Or is she telling you to hit on her? No way. Eunbi is eight years older than you. She surely wouldn't want to be with a boy like you.
Karina realizes that her sheets are wet as she wakes up. Her dream was more than just a lustful dream. She couldn't help herself after she saw your picture, so she watched all of the episodes of your drama.
Her dream was about you. And her. And how you fuck her from behind, pushing her head into the mattress. How you squeeze her tits with one hand, while the other holds onto her neck. How you cum on her chest afterwards, covering her tits with your thick load.
Karina still feels so horny after this dream, but she can't get herself off now. She has to change the sheets without her members finding out. And their schedule starts soon as well.
She groans in annoyance. Cuming in her sleep isn't as satisfying as consciously getting herself off.
Karina glances at her alarm clock, which shows the current date. Two more days to go. Two more days until she can make her dreams reality.
You always hated being unprepared. Just like right now. Looking at the house Eunbi mentioned, you have a weird feeling in your stomach.
Except for the address, she didn't tell you anything else. How many people are attending? And who? Does she have any particular events in mind? Or just drinking?
You were never a heavy drinker, but you brought a nice bottle of wine with you. A gift for Eunbi to say thank you for the invite.
The door opens a couple of moments after you rung the bell. You are surprised to say the least. In front of you is standing Park Jihyo.
You've never met her in person before. But you know she is a very nice and mature woman. And beautiful as hell too.
It's obvious that she had prior schedules. She is wearing a white crop top that shows off her shoulders and tummy. Her blue pants are held up by a turquoise belt. The small waist chain is highlighting her small waist. Her blue extensions make her look young and exciting.
"Hi (y/n). We have been waiting for you."
"Hello. I'm not late, am I?"
Jihyo shakes her head.
"No, no. Please, come in."
She steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you.
"Make yourself comfortable. I have to change into something nicer. The others should be in the kitchen."
"I doubt there is a nicer outfit than this."
You only realize you said those words after Jihyo playfully hits your arm.
What the hell, dude? As an actor you should be able to control your thoughts better.
You watch her walk up the stairs. Unable to look away, you see Jihyo's butt slightly sway from left to right, tightly hugged by the light blue fabric of her jeans.
You are in for more surprises when you reach the kitchen. Food is filling almost every surface. Tteobokki, noodles, pork belly, kimchi fried rice, chicken and more. Who is supposed to eat all of this? How many people are coming here? A hundred?
The woman who is standing with her back to you looks familiar. But you can't say for sure if this is Eunbi or not.
Her black dress shows off her back, only slightly covering it with a few bands. Her hair is resting on her naked skin, while it's neatly tugged behind her ear on the left side. Her dress isn't really highlighting her curves, at least not from the back. But you do notice that it's quite short. You would just need to hike it up a little and...
You stop yourself from continuing your thought.
"Good evening."
You make your presence known.
Turns out it really is Eunbi. You immediately recognize her beautiful face when she turns around.
"Hello, (y/n). How have you been?"
"I'm doing alright."
"Did you bring this for us?"
She points at the bottle of wine you almost forgot you are holding.
"Yeah. I hope you enjoy it."
Eunbi takes the bottle out of your hands.
"Thank you very much."
"I tried to buy a good one, but all the older ones were gone already."
She shruggs her shoulders.
"Don't worry. I usually like younger stuff anyway."
She winks at you before turning back around. You feel your cheeks getting a little hot. You can't help but feel like Eunbi is flirting with you. But that would be crazy. Or not?
"Why don't you get comfortable in the living room? The table is already set."
It is? You are surprised. There is still more food? Did Eunbi clear out a whole grocery store or something? As you step into the living room you realize it's more like two grocery stores.
Karina let's her hand wander underneath her skirt. She can't help it. She has come to enjoy the sound of your soothing voice and the way you speak. Your scent slowly starts to make it's way towards her. A mix of wood and rain.
A moan almost escapes her lips, her pussy dripping wet. She is excited. She waited so long for this. To have someone to satisfy her needs.
You eyes fall onto the woman sitting at the table. Aespa's Karina? No way. You can't believe that those three women are at the same party as you.
Karina's outfit is all white, which reminds you of the snow outside. Her tits threaten to spill out of her top. It seems like the zipper is barely holding on. Her neckline is decorated with a pearl necklace, making her neck look a little longer. Her fuzy skirt looks kinda interesting.
Something is going on. This is weird to you. As the four of you eat dinner, you wonder what's going on. Jihyo said that everyone else cancelled. It sounds unbelievable, but why would she lie?
And what's with these outfits? Sure, they all want to look nice. But you can't help but think that they all look a little too sexy.
Eunbi keeps wiping her mouth with her thumb after every spoon of Tteobokki. Which wouldn't have caught your attention if she wouldn't keep staring at you while she does it.
Jihyo's fit makes her look elegant, but you can't help but notice how big her chest looks. You have seen more than enough of her to know that she is wearing a push up bra. Her cleavage tries to seduce you whenever she reaches over the table to try new food. Which seems to happen quite often.
After two bottles of wine, you start to relax a little more. The three women look like they are enjoying themselves as well. Your thoughts about their ulterior motives slowly fall into the back of your mind.
Once all of you are completely full, you offer Eunbi to help clean the table, but she insists on you staying seated. Karina excuses herself to go upstairs, while you and Jihyo talk some more.
"And dou have anything else planned?"
You shake your head at her question.
"I didn't get any new offers yet. But I'm positive. The current drama still has a couple of episodes that are going to air."
"I would love to see you in many more to come. I really enjoy your acting."
You can't help but smile at Jihyo's compliment.
"Oh."
You see her looking outside.
"I haven't even noticed that this house a hot tub."
Looking outside as well, you suddenly feel Jihyo tugging at the sleeve of your shirt.
"You wanna relax a little?"
"Isn't it like really cold outside? It's snowing."
Jihyo gets up and dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand.
"It's name is 'hot tub' for reason, right?"
"Sure."
You get up as well as Jihyo opens the glass door leading into the backyard.
Only now you realize that you don't have swimming trunks with you. Who could blame you though? You never expected to go for a swim tonight.
"Are you not coming?"
You are already standing in the door, while Jihyo is standing next to the hot tub, turning the heat on.
"Well, I don't have anyt swim trunks with me."
You see her chuckle.
"So?"
"Well..."
You don't know how to continue.
"We are just here to relax. Don't bother."
And with that you see Jihyo starting to get rid off her dress.
You bite your lip as you see it drop to the floor. It turns out that you were wrong. Jihyo isn't wearing a push up bra. In fact, she isn't wearing a bra at all. Only a black high rise thong.
As if it's a normal thing to do for her, Jihyo slowly steps into the pool. You have to do your best to not stare at her. Her tits look as good as you imagined them.
Once she sits down, she motions you to join her with one finger. A seductive smile on her face.
You start to get rid off your clothes as well. When you reach your boxers, you glance at Jihyo. You are hard. There is no way you can fix that now. But this might be your golden opportunity.
You let your boxers fall to the ground. This time, Jihyo is the one staring. She already had her eyes on your abs. But your cock is demanding all of her attention now.
She smiles, realizing that she underestimated you. Not just your boldness, but also your size.
Stepping into the water, you sit down across from her. Jihyo's tits are underwater, blocking the view at her lower body. Not that you mind though. They are good enough on their own.
"You were right, it is a little cold."
You only realize that you were staring as you hear her speak up. The goosebumps on her skin make you feel cold as well.
"But I know just the thing to make us hot."
Your eyes must be wide open as you watch her coming closer. Her eyes are locked on yours as Jihyo stands in front of you. Now, the water is only reaching her waist. She looks down at you, a soft smile on her face.
"It's time for dessert, don't you think?"
Without waiting for your response, Jihyo starts to lower herself.
You can't believe that this is actually happening.
You feel her folds slowly grazing your tip underwater. Her tits are now exactly at the right height for you to bury your face in them.
Jihyo seems to have the same thoughts. One of her hands wanders to the back of your head, slowly pushing you forward.
You start kissing Jihyo's tits as you feel her taking your cock into her pussy.
Jihyo doesn't seem to care much about foreplay.
She already starts to moan as she feels how you fill her up. She didn't have cock in her for months. Her tits are sensitive as she feels your lips dance on her skin.
Jihyo has to place both of her hands on your shoulders, needing stability. Her legs are already becoming weak and she has to use your body as leverage to push herself up and down.
As she slowly starts to ride your cock, you take one of Jihyo's nipples into your mouth. Your hand cups the other breast as you suck on this one.
"God, yes."
Jihyo sighs, finally able to enjoy the thing she longed for for month. Even if the other girls had other plans, she just couldn't pass up on this opportunity.
Her body starts to move faster, the pleasure in your groin increasing. Jihyo's pussy is warming your hard cock, hugging it tightly so you don't feel too cold.
"Fuck. Your cock feels so good."
Another moan as she impales herself on your shaft, the water making splashing noises as she moves up and down.
"Suck on my tits, baby."
You are already doing exactly that. And you don't plan on stopping anytime soon. Her full mounds keep pressing against your face as she occasionally rocks back and forth in your lap.
As Jihyo's pleasure increases, you start to taste something else besides her skin. The sweet taste of her milk floods your mouth. It's nothing more than a small dribble, but it's enough for you to become even harder.
You already thought you were at your limit, Jihyo as well. But she can feel how you stiffen inside of her, parting her walls even further.
"Fuck, yes. Suck on mommy's tits, baby."
You are surprised for a moment, but you are not complaining. Jihyo always gave you mommy vibes anyway.
"That's a good boy."
She keeps praising you as she fucks herself on your cock. Both of her tits are releasing a little milk by now. You make sure to not waste a drop, enjoying the sweet taste.
Until now, Jihyo's riding was quite slow, her main focus on making you suck her tits. But as you empty her tits further and further, her desire to roughly bounce on you increases.
"I wanna fucking cum on your cock."
She starts to increase her pace, making it harder for you to stay attached to her nipples.
"Mommy wants your cock in her pussy so bad."
She moans and sighs, the built up tension in her body needs to be released. She can't even remember the last time she felt this good.
No members she has to take care of, no fans, no managers, no appointments or interviews or shoots.
Just your cock in her pussy, hitting her g-spot everytime she fully sinks into your lap.
Jihyo starts to lose her rhythm. The pleasure washes over her like the waves she is creating in the hot tub. Her hands have moved by now, both of them on the back of your head.
She hugs you tightly, pushing your head into her chest.
"Good boy. You are doing so well."
Jihyo keeps moaning as her pleasure increases.
Your hands are folded on her wet back, making sure that she is not able to fall off. For a moment, you wonder where her panties have gone, but this situation is almost too much for you to be thinking about anything else.
Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo's thong is still lazily swimming around her left ankle. It's slightly sticking to her skin as she keeps bouncing in your lap.
"Mommy is gonna cum on your cock, baby!"
Days and weeks of pent up pleasure are starting to make their way towards Jihyo's core. They hit her dam repeatedly, trying to break out of her.
"Harder, baby! Make me take your cock!"
You switch from just holding her, to pulling her body into your lap. The added force makes Jihyo lose control.
A couple of moments later, the dam inside her body breaks open. Waves after waves of pleasure rock her body as her juices mix with the water in the hot tub.
You feel Jihyo's tight pussy contracting around you, trying to make you cum as well. Doing your best to hold on, you don't want to cum too early.
You want to pleasure Jihyo for longer, now knowing that she has too much sexual tension in her body. You are more than willing to release all of it.
"Oh Goood!"
She moans loudly, her head rolling back, her eyes closed.
Jihyo's orgasm is even more powerful that she expected herself. It feels like hours for the both of you, until her body starts to calm down.
"Your cock fills my pussy so well, baby."
Jihyo starts grinding on you once again. It's obvious that one orgasm just isn't enough to satisfy her needs.
"Be a good boy and suck on mommy's tits."
She has come back to her slow, sensual riding, which enables you to capture her nipples with your mouth again.
Just like before, Jihyo starts to ride you faster, the longer you suck on her tits.
"Holy fuck."
She sighs feeling you attacking her chest as she keeps grinding against you. The woman on top of you feels that she is pushing you towards your orgasm. But she isn't satisfied yet.
Jihyo slows down once again. Her grinding isn't enough for you to cum, but it almost feels like torture. You are close, but not close enough. Instead, her pussy keeps pushing you towards the edge, only for you to hang on by a thread.
Meanwhile, you bring Jihyo closer towards her second orgasm. Your work on her tits doesn't stay unnoticed.
"Good boy."
Her praises make you work harder, earning more moans from her.
"Fuck."
Another deep moan and Jihyo cums for a second time. It's less violent this time, but you can still feel how some of the build up tension leaves her body.
"So good..."
She coos as she cums down from her high. Her pussy almost painfully tight by now.
"I think it's time for your reward, baby."
Jihyo increases her pace once more. Because she has kept you near the edge of your orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar pull in your groin.
"Gonna cum."
You groan, unable to say much more.
Only now do you realize that you are having unprotected sex with Park Jihyo. The realization hits you like a truck, almost making your orgasm immediately. The fact that you are balls deep inside Twice's leader is already hard enough to compensate. But you are actually inside of her without any protection. Is she even taking the pill?
If she is not...
The heat of the moment made you forget about the risks. But now it somewhat turns you on. What would happen if you breed Park Jihyo?
"You can't cum inside."
She moans, making you realize that she isn't on the pill. And that you are not wearing a condom. Which means...
"Naughty boy. Thinking you could breed me."
Despite her words, Jihyo keeps fucking herself onto your cock. She doesn't stop.
"What would the public say if you cum deep inside my pussy?"
The thought brings you towards the edge. If your orgasm is a cliff, you would be standing on the edge with one foot hanging in the air. One more step...
"We can't have that."
Jihyo's tone and words make you lose your hold on the edge of this cliff.
"It's gonna be much safer if I swallow that load of yours."
Your hands have moved to her wide hips by now. You keep pulling her into your lap, taking control of her pace.
"I'm gonna have a belly full of cum either way."
The thought of filling Jihyo's tummy makes you groan, slamming into her from underneath her.
"Besides, we have the whole night. Maybe I would be willing to let you breed me at one point.."
Your body malfunctions. While your hands try to lift Jihyo off your cock, your hips try to thrust upwards as high as possible. You don't want to cum inside, the risks too high, and yet you want to feel her pussy, milking your cock.
Jihyo gets off your cock right before you explode.
"Paint my throat, baby."
She glides into the water, opening her mouth. As you start to see stars, Jihyo wraps her lips around your cock.
"Fuck!"
You groan as you finally orgasm. The long build up makes you shoot a bigger load than you expected. You fill Jihyo's throat within seconds. Your warm cum fills her completely as she tries to gulp it down. It's sticky consistency makes it harder to do so.
You feel Jihyo's throat tighten around you as she coughs up some of your cum, letting it spill out of her mouth.
It takes her a couple of moments to swallow all of it. Once she is done, Jihyo opens her mouth, showing that her mouth is empty.
"You cum tastes amazing."
"Thank you."
You don't know what else to say. You never expected to hear a compliment like that from her. Or any compliment for that matter.
"You should go upstairs. The bathrooms have towels."
You get what she means. You think that she is trying to hide this from the other girls.
"What about you?"
Jihyo chuckles and motions for you to leave.
"I'm gonna enjoy myself a little longer."
As you slide open the glass door, Jihyo calls for you again.
"There should be condoms in one of the bathrooms. Take them. You're gonna need them."
She gives you a seductive smile as you step back inside.
You hear that Eunbi is still in the kitchen. What is taking her so long? It sounds like she is using the hand blender. But for what? You already had dinner. And no one said anything about dessert. At least not for now.
But you don't complain if it means that Eunbi won't be in your path.
Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around. Aware that you are still naked, you want to make a decision quickly. There are two bedrooms, both of them have bathrooms. But which one is empty? You remember Karina coming up here for a little privacy earlier. She got a call from someone, if you remember correctly.
But you don't hear anything right now.
You decide to just go for it. Opening the door on the right, you seem to be lucky. Karina isn't in this one.
You drop your clothes on the bed and walk towards the bathroom. Seems like this is the one Jihyo mentioned. You find four boxes of different sizes on the dresser. Why did Jihyo buy so many condoms? Even if she didn't know your size, why a whole box? And why didn't she know which bathroom they were in? She must have put them here earlier. Or...
It feels like someone just opened your eyes. How can you be so dumb?
Eunbi's rushed invitation, the fact that you are alone with the three of them, their outfits, their flirting. How didn't you pick up on all of that?
You stand there in the bathroom. Towel in one hand, a box of condoms in the other. How is this even real?
"Seems like you found them."
Karina is standing the doorframe, her eyes glancing at your half erect cock, before moving back to yours.
"Wanna put them to good use?"
Still too surprised at what is actually going on, you are unable to answer.
Karina chuckles at the face you're making.
"What? Is this really so unbelievable?"
You slowly nod.
"Well, let me spell it out for you."
Karina steps inside the bathroom.
You watch her hand wandering in the direction of her zipper. Painfully slow, she starts to open her top.
"The three of us are horny. Desperate even."
She reveals more of her cleavage as she keeps talking.
"I need a man who can suck on my tits and make me feel good."
Only a second later and her tits are gonna spill out. Karina stops right before that happens. To your disappointment.
Instead, she steps forward.
"And I need a man who can rail me into the mattress. Make me scream."
Her hand finds your cock and she lazily starts to stroke it.
Only now do you realize how ridiculously short her skirt is. You have a good view of her tits now. She doesn't even have to open her top fully.
"Are you in?"
After just having Jihyo use you for her pleasure, you have the need to take out your own on someone else. Your fingers itch for you to just push Karina into the wall and fuck her brains out.
But you hold back for now.
"Of course I am."
She takes the box of condoms out of your hand, opening it and taking out a pack of one.
"Let's go then."
Her other hand takes yours as she leads you back into the bedroom.
"I need you to get hard enough first."
Karina motions for you to sit on the bed. As you move your clothes out of the way and sit on the edge, Karina kneels down in front of you. You watch as she finally opens her top completely. She isn't wearing a bra either.
Her tits bounce a little as they are freed, almost hypnotizing you. She takes both of them into her hands.
"You like them?"
You nod, licking your lips. The taste of Jihyo's still lingers inside your mouth.
But instead of letting you suck on them, Karina wraps them around your cock.
Her soft flesh slowly makes you hard. The warmth of her body adds to the sensation as she starts to move.
Slowly. Up and down. Up and down. You've never received a boobjob before. But it feels great. Better than you expected. Almost as if you are fucking her pussy.
Your groan makes Karina smile as she watches your tip glide in and out of her cleavage. The condom is lying on the ground next to her, forgotten for now.
"I can't wait to be filled by this."
She nods towards your cock, before spitting into her cleavage. The lewd action makes you even harder as you feel her warm saliva. It starts to coat your cock as she keeps bouncing her tits around it.
You are almost fully hard by now. If it weren't for Jihyo earlier, you would probably be on the edge of orgasm already.
"This feels good."
"Of course it does. This is what they are made for."
You see Karina shifting a little, indicating that she really can't wait much longer.
"You are hard enough now."
She let's go of her tits, making your cock lie against her cleavage without any friction around it.
Picking up the condom, Karina opens the package.
"I hope this fits you. I don't know if we have bigger ones."
You expected her to put it on herself, or just to give it to you. But you never expected this.
Karina pust the condom in her mouth, right between her teeth. As if she is showing off a round candy. She leans down and you feel her lips on your cock.
Slowly, Karina starts to pull the condom over your dick, giving you head in the process.
It takes two tries, but she eventually reaches your base. Her tight throat massages your cock and you can see what's written on the package that's ripped open and lying on the ground once again. Extra thin.
Of course.
Being needy herself, Karina doesn't waste much time. Her blowjob only lasts for a couple of moments, before she lifts her head off your cock.
"I didn't have anything in my pussy for ages."
She gets off her knees.
"You want me to go slow."
Your interpretation proofs itself wrong.
"No. I want you to use my hole like a fleshlight. Destroy my pussy."
That is something you would never say no to.
Getting up as well, you turn Karina around. She expects you to bend her over the edge of the bed. Instead, you make both of you spin around, before pushing her to her knees once more.
With her head pressed against the carpet, Karina can't see what you are doing, but she can feel how you make her raise her ass.
"Fuck, yes."
She moans as you put her into the perfect position. Her skirt slides off by itself and is now bunched up around her waist.
Without much build up you insert your cock into her pussy.
"God, yes."
Karina's moan is louder this time.
Since you just fucked Jihyo, you can't help but compare the two. Karina is definitely tighter. There is no reason to doubt that, although you think that Jihyo was wetter. Or maybe that was just the water in the hot tub.
Either way, you start to thrust into Karina. Her right cheek gets pushed further into the carpet as you bottom out inside of her in one stroke.
She feels your weight on top of her as you almost stand above her.
Half standing, half kneeling you start to fuck Karina. You don't start slow. Just like she wanted, you use her pussy for your own pleasure as soon as you thrust inside of her for a second time.
Karina mewls into the carpet. She didn't expect you to go this hard immediately.
"Fuck!"
She can't hold back a shout as she feels you hitting her cervix.
Meanwhile, Eunbi uses the hand blender incorrectly. Instead of making food, she uses it to get herself off. She couldn't help it. She got turned on by you during dinner, but she is too shy to make the first move.
Sitting on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, Eunbi has the blender stuffed inside her needy pussy. It's obviously not as good as your cock. But it definitely satisfies her enough for now.
The moans she hears from upstairs inform her of the fact that you are currently busy with fucking Karina's pussy. The younger woman's moans echo through the whole house.
Eunbi's mind is floating off into the dreamworld. Her improvised vibrator turns into your cock. Her hand in her black hair turns into yours.
With a quiet, almost shy shout, Eunbi cums around the vibrator. Her slick stains the steel, making it slippery. Some of her juices stain the tiles.
The sounds of you fucking Karina don't just attract Eunbi's attention.
By now, Jihyo has made her way up to the first floor. She is leaning against the wall of the room you are in, right next to the door. Her fingers are buried knuckle deep inside her pussy.
"Harder! Please!"
Karina's earlier dominance is gone by now. Just like her dignity. It's not like she can still save face now. With her head pressed against the floor and her ass high in the air. Her pussy being used by you while Karina is only able to moan and shout.
After Jihyo called herself mommy, you want to experience something similar with Karina.
"Tell me how good my cock feels, baby girl."
You grunt, making Karina shudder.
She asked Eunbi and Jihyo for a man, not a boy. Although she was sceptical at first, because of your age, she agreed to give you a shoot.
And right now, Karina feels a lot of things. And regret isn't one of them.
She loves how you treat her. Like a wet hole to jerk off your cock with. Like a toy, it's only use to make you cum.
"It feels so good! Fuck me, (y/n)!"
You chuckle as you take a step forward. You push Karina's lower body forward, while her upper body stays in place. The girl's weight is held up by her head, not her legs or arms.
Karina feels the blood in her system rush towards her head.
"Call me properly."
You give her right ass cheek a slap, making it jiggle a little.
"Oh god, daddy!"
Karina immediately knows what you want to hear. Her own preferences coming to light as you keep fucking her into the floor.
"Your cock is so big. You tearing my little pussy open!"
You take another step forward.
Karina feels how her feet are being lifted off the ground. She instinctively wraps her legs around your waist. She is almost doing a handstand by now.
Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo rests her head against the wall behind her as she cums around her fingers. Karina's loud moans made her orgasm once more. Her pussy dripping wet while she only thinks about being able to fuck you again very soon. She is slowly sliding down the wall, until she is sitting on the ground, needing to take a breather.
Karina is unable to take a break though. Her hair is a mess already as she is almost floating in the air. You keep her body steady as you keep fucking her.
"Daddy!"
Her shout signals her incoming orgasm.
With another loud shriek, Karina falls over the edge. Her pussy squeezes your cock. Moan after moan escapes her mouth as her body shakes.
You keep her in position, not caring if she needs a breather or not. It doesn't matter to you if she needs to calm down. You are too far gone by now.
You grip on Karina's hips tighter as you keep thrusting inside of her. You are standing directly above her by now.
"Daddy! Daddy! I'm gonna cum again!"
Karina didn't expect herself to be this needy. To be this sensitive. You keep wracking her pussy in this unconventional position.
It makes her orgasm for a second time. Another shriek leaves her mouth as she cums around your cock. Her pussy becomes a little tighter, while her body starts to become lifeless.
She is too tired to continue. And yet, she can't force herself to ask you to stop. The opposite is actually the case.
"Harder, daddy!"
She can't stop asking for more as you have your way with her pussy.
Karina cums for a third time, when you completely pull out of her pussy. The lack of your cock makes her orgasm around thin air, making her even more desperate for your cock.
You spin her body around, wanting to be able to look at her face while you fuck her.
You fold Karina in half, leaning on her legs as you thrust back inside.
"Fuck yes, daddy!"
Her eyes are wide open as she looks up at you. Your cock is drilling into her pussy hitting her cervix with every thrust.
You sling your right arm around her leg, reaching for her clit.
Karina tries to shake her head. But she can only feel the back of her head rub against the carpet.
Your thumb works her clit while you keep thrusting into Karina from above.
"Cum again, baby girl."
Karina is unable to answer. How is she supposed to cum for a forth time? Her body is completely spend. Completely wrecked.
And yet, her pussy craves more. It gladly takes your pounding as you reach forward with your left hand and take a fistful of Karina's hair. Her legs are being held in place by your own body.
"I told you to cum."
"Daddy!"
As if her body only waited for your permission, Karina orgasms one more time.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her pussy tightens and you feel some of her slick leave her pussy. Her lips are glistening with her juices.
Karina stares up at you as she tries to recover from her forth orgasm. She is breathing heavily as you finally start to slow down.
There is still one thing she wanted you to do to her.
Using your current position, you lift your weight off Karina's legs and force yourself between them. You grab her waist with both hands.
She moans as you start to change your position, your cock still deep inside her pussy.
You slowly pick her up. Karina's body lifts off the floor as you start to carry her. Her legs wrap around your body, trying to keep her balance.
Karina's hands hold onto your neck as you start to thrust into her again.
"Fuck, daddy."
She sighs, too tired to scream right now. Her pussy feels used. She feels sore. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but Karina is able to enjoy it. After months of no sex, she is finally getting her pussy fucked properly.
You impale Karina on your cock as you stand in the middle of the room. Your hands have found her ass by now, squeezing her cheeks as you lift her up and down.
You aren't fucking her fast, which means that Karina can relax a little. She is getting used to this new position as you slowly move in and out of her.
"Your cock is so good, daddy."
Another sigh of hers makes you lean your head down.
You haven't given her tits any attention so far at all. Her soft skin tastes a little salty as you start to drag your tongue across her chest.
"That's it. Suck your baby girl's tits, daddy."
Karina moans as she arches her back, giving you a better angle at her chest.
You start to suck on her tits as you make her slowly bounce on your cock. The pace is too slow for you to cum, but it's almost the perfect pace for Karina.
The slow fucking turns her on as you carry her as if she isn't weighing anything at all. It enables you to enjoy her tits fully, while cleaning her skin of her sweat.
"Daddy."
Another deep sigh escapes Karina's lips as she feels how you slowly push her towards another orgasm. It feels a little different this time. As if it's starts from her tits and it's slowly making it's way towards her core. Your cock in her pussy makes Karina clench around it as you keep sucking on her tits.
"Almost."
She is unable to say more, her body too weak to do much more but enjoy the pleasure she is receiving.
You let your tongue flick against her nipples as you keep squeezing Karina's ass cheeks. Her soft flesh in your hands makes you want to pound her harder again. But you are currently focusing on her tits, trying to make her cum again
"Mmmmm!"
Karina is unable to open her mouth as she cums for a fifth time. Her nipples are covered in your spit as her pussy contracts around your cock. Her body becomes stiff for a moment, before she becomes a lifeless weight in your arms.
You keep up your lazy thrusting while you start to explore more of her body. You lick the salty sweat off Karina's skin, while you wait for her to recover.
Your tongue glides over her collarbone and her neck until it finally finds its way inside her mouth. Karina can taste her own sweat as you keep fucking her slowly.
"Make yourself cum, daddy."
She mumbles into your mouth.
"Use me."
Without a word, you squeeze her cheeks harder to have a better grip.
Your eyes meet and Karina feels a shiver run down her spine.
You give her one deep thrust, pulling her onto your cock while you push forward.
"Fuck!"
Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels you filling her completely.
"I'm gonna use your body, baby girl."
You kiss her one last time, before you pick up your pace.
"Do it, daddy! It's yours!"
Karina moans loudly as you start to destroy her pussy once again. Just like she wanted. You use her tight cavern as a fleshlight, pulling her onto your cock, whenever your thrust into her. She is helpless, unable to do anything but take your cock.
Not that she is complaining, really. Karina can't remember the last time she felt this good.
You drive yourself towards your own orgasm, using Karina's body as a tool. Her pussy's tight grip makes it hard not to pull out completely, which means you are always halfway inside of her.
Karina's head rocks back and forth as you keep fucking her, reaching your orgasm eventually.
"Karina."
You groan her name, trying to tell her you are about to cum.
"I want to feel it."
She sighs into your ear, her voice to weak to produce a proper moan.
"Feel it on my body. On my face."
It only takes you a couple of more thrusts, before you finally have to pull out. Karina almost falls to the ground, her legs too weak to hold onto your hips.
You make sure she doesn't hurt herself, dropping her on the bed. She slides off the edge, half kneeling, half lying on the floor.
Karina's face is dripping with sweat. Her hair sticks to her skin. She opens her mouth, her eyes wide open.
You don't even have to do anything anymore. Only aiming your cock at her, after pulling off your condom, you start to unload on Karina's face.
Thick ropes of your cum hit the bridge of her nose, her cheeks and her mouth. Some gets into her left eye, making her flinch as she feels it.
"So much, daddy."
Karina sighs as you smear the last drops of your cum on her red lips. She kisses your cock, starting to clean it as you take a fistful of her hair.
You admire your work, making Karina look up at you as she sucks your cock.
You still can't believe your luck. And this isn't even the end. There is still one more person waiting for you.
You planned on making your move on Eunbi after you came on Karina's face. But you didn't get very far. Jihyo intercepted you in the hallway. Not that you really mind though.
"That's a good boy."
She smiles up at you as you keep fucking her tits. The hot water of the shower hits both of your bodies as you are standing in front of a kneeling Jihyo.
She has wrapped her tits around your cock, while she occasionally catches your tip with her mouth.
"Be a good boy for mommy. Cum on mommy's tits."
She can feel how close you are. Despite just having fucked Karina, the combination of Jihyo's blowjob and now her boobjob pushes you closer towards your next orgasm.
"Fuck!"
You groan as you start to unload. The warm water hits your chest as you cum all over Jihyo's. Her cleavage is painted by your thick semen.
"Baby..."
Jihyo coos as she scoops up some of your cum. Most of its slowly gets washed away by the water. She sucks her finger clean, looking up at you.
"Delicious."
You almost choke on the fortune cookie in your mouth. After taking a shower with Jihyo, the four of you started to eat some ice cream. All servings are decorated with a fortune cookie.
The reason for your new near death experience? Karina purposefully letting some of her vanilla ice cream fall into her cleavage.
She had to take a shower as well and is now wearing one of the white bathrobes. Jihyo and you both have your old clothes on.
Jihyo can't help but grin at Karina's antics, knowing what the younger girl is up to. You glance at Eunbi, her cheeks a little red once more as she watches the youngest girl's bold actions.
Eunbi walks into the kitchen, holding two empty bowls. She asked if you could help clean the dishes and of course you said yes. She watches you for a moment as you clean the two bowls you brought in yourself.
Eunbi catches herself staring at your broad back as you turn around.
"Give them to me."
You reach out to her with both hands.
Because of the lack of another person's touch and all the things she heard over the last hour, Eunbi almost pushes her chest forward, instead of handing you the bowls.
Once she does, you wink at her, before resuming your cleaning.
"Come on. This is not so hard."
Eunbi tries to tell herself that. But for some reason, she can't help it.
"C-Can you s-suck my...?"
Her cheeks are the deepest of red as you turn around.
"Can you suck m-my tits?"
You chuckle.
Eunbi tries to hide her face behind her hands. What was she thinking?
But you grab her wrists, putting them down on her sides.
"I was waiting for you to ask."
Her eyes grow wide as you reach behind her, looking for the tie that's securing her dress. She feels your chest press against her face as you need to lean down a little.
Eunbi inhales your scent, closing her eyes. This is really happening.
She feels how you slowly unwrap the back of her dress as if she is a present. The front becomes loose as well and finally you pull down the black fabric.
You're met with a black bra that is holding up her beautiful pair of tits. Unable to take your hands off Eunbi, you let them wonder over her tight tummy, before cupping her mounds over her bra.
The oldest of the three women lets out a shaky breath.
"Are they alright?"
You almost laugh at her question.
"Alright? They are the best I've ever seen."
You hesitate for a second, before you add the last part of your sentence.
"Mommy."
You see goosebumps forming on her skin as you call Eunbi that. She doesn't seem to be dominant, but she strikes you as a rather caring older woman.
Opening her bra, you free her tits.
Eunbi watches you closely, biting her lip, while you lean down to kiss her chest.
Another shaky breath of hers makes you smile.
"You are so hot, mommy."
You're turned on by the fact that Eunbi is nearly a decade older than you.
"Please suck on them."
She sighs in pleasure as she feels your lips tracing all over skin.
You finally capture one of her nipples with your mouth, eliciting a moan from her. Another one quickly follows as you cup her other breast.
You feel her hand in your hair on the back of your head. She pushes you further into her chest, silently asking for more.
You pinch her nipple with your fingers, making her flinch.
"Yes, baby."
She murmurs, unable to hide her arousal.
It doesn't take long until Eunbi starts to lactate. She is more sensitive than Jihyo and soon, you are able to taste her milk. It's also a little sweeter. Almost as sweet as the ice cream you just had.
You are almost able to drink from her tits as she keeps lactating. Switching sides occasionally, you try to get as much as you can.
Eunbi is a mumbling mess by now as she leans against the kitchen counter behind her.
"Good boy."
She purrs as you keep sucking on her tits.
The constant rise of her arousal pushes Eunbi closer towards her orgasm. She never expected this to happen. She never even thought it could be possible that she lactates and cums at the same time.
But she does so now. A mewl escapes her lips as she ruins her panties. She has to keep herself steady against the counter, while you keep sucking her tits.
"How does this feel so good?"
Eunbi moans. She never had someone worshipping her tits like you do right now. And who can blame you? They are perfect in every way.
A second orgasm follows shortly after the first. Eunbi's legs quiver as she cums once more. This time, some of her slick starts to run down her thighs.
As much as you like sucking on Eunbi's tits and enjoying her milk, you also have the desire to orgasm eventually.
At one point, that desire becomes too strong to resist.
While you keep sucking her right tit, you fish another condom out of your pocket. You spin the two of you around, so that Eunbi is standing in front of you. You turn her around, making her back face you. Bending her over, you can see how her dress stretches over her ass.
"Fuck, mommy."
You can't help but squeeze Eunbi's cheeks over the fabric.
"Oh yes, baby. Give it to me."
It feels like Eunbi is slowly losing her shyness.
You reach between her legs, feeling the soft skin of her cum covered thighs. Quickly pulling down her black panties, you can feel how drenched they are.
"Mommy is so wet for you, baby."
You are happy to hear that Eunbi is starting to call herself that.
Sliding up the hem of her dress, you admire Eunbi's backside.
"Put in please."
You quickly put on the condom, before aligning your cock with Eunbi's snatch.
"Oh my god."
She moans as you push inside. You feel her walls parting as you penetrate her pussy for the first time. It's almost on a similar level than Karina's, although it's much wetter. You are actually surprised that Eunbi doesn't seem to be a squirter. Or maybe she needs to warm up first? You decide to find out.
Eunbi's head sinks onto the electric stove. Her black hair is sprawled out all over the glass.
"More please."
She moans, not satisfied with how slow you are thrusting.
Slowly picking up the pace, you make Eunbi's head rub against the black surface.
You can't believe that you are fucking a woman like her. In the kitchen. With her head on the stove.
This still feels like a fantasy to you.
"Give mommy that cock."
Another sigh from her makes you fuck her even faster. Your hips meet hers with every thrust.
Reaching out, you take a hold of both her arms and place them behind her back. Your free hand moves to remove the hair out of Eunbi's face.
"Oh my!"
She yelps as you pull her up by her arms, while you pound her harder.
Her upper body is now hanging in midair as you take her from behind. The moans she is producing can probably be heard throughout the whole house as her volume increases.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Instead of lying on the stove, her hair is now getting dragged across it over and over again with every thrust into her tight cunt.
More slick is running down her legs as you enjoy Eunbi's pussy to the fullest.
After some time, Eunbi's body finally proves too much for you. You try to fight your impending orgasm, but it's no use. You know you are going to cum sooner than later.
Eunbi can feel how your cock grows a little more. How it becomes a little stiffer.
"Oh yes, baby."
Her eyes are glued to the window. Because it's dark outside, it's almost as good as a mirror, reflecting the lewd scene that's going on inside the kitchen.
Her next sentence surprises you completely.
"Please breed me, baby. Cum in my pussy."
She sighs needily as you keep fucking a bend over Eunbi.
Is she for real? You already fucked Jihyo raw. So where could be the harm in fucking Eunbi without a condom, too?
But she is asking you to cum in her.
"Fill my pussy up. Shoot your load inside of me."
Her wide eyes make you think that she is just as surprised as you at her words.
"A-Are you safe?"
It feels like time is slowing down. Eunbi shakes her head no as her hair flies in all directions. Your orgasm reaches you faster than you thought it would. You only have a moment to decide.
"Please. Breed my needy pussy."
Eunbi moans deeply.
Her words push you over the edge. But you don't do as she says. Instead, you cum inside the condom.
Despite being disappointed, Eunbi can feel your cock twitch inside of her. She can feel the warmth of your cum inside her pussy.
"That was so good."
Her breath is as heavy as yours as she leans over the stove.
You check your watch. It's almost midnight.
Eunbi is lying in front of you on the dinner table. Her legs are wrapped around your waist, not letting you go. She is completely naked by now.
Karina is kneeling on one of the chairs, sucking on Eunbi's tits. By the way her eyes are closed, you can see how much she enjoys drinking the older girl's milk.
Jihyo is standing next to you, her hand running along Eunbi's left leg.
You have been taking turns, fucking the three of them throughout the whole night. You can't even count how many orgasms you had and you can't remember how often the girls came already.
The whole house smells like sex after you've fucked the three of them for hours.
"Fuck her faster."
Jihyo eggs you on, just like she did earlier, when you were using Karina's mouth as if it was just another wet hole.
The sight of Eunbi lying on the table is already enough for your eyes. But the evidence of your torture makes you fuck her even harder.
After finding out about her breeding kink, you and the two other women started to tease Eunbi.
You are currently wearing the last of the condoms that Jihyo bought in your size. The used ones? They are all spread out over Eunbi's body. One is placed on her shoulder, another one is in her right hand. Two are decorating her stomach.
They are all still full with your cum, painting one of the dirtiest pictures of Eunbi you could've ever thought of.
The last orgasm you had, made you shoot your load right onto her pussy. Not inside. But right above her clit, staining her neatly trimmed pubic hair.
"Please."
Eunbi whines, still hoping for you to cum in her.
"Cream pie me, baby. Breed mommy's pussy."
Her words become dirtier by the second.
Jihyo joins in as well.
"Cum in her tight pussy. Put a baby in her."
You are fully aware that you could get Eunbi pregnant if you cum in her. And it seems like she knows it too. Or rather, she doesn't anymore. As if her mind is too focused on you breeding her. She doesn't even think about the risks anymore.
"Please! Paint my pussy!"
Eunbi mewls as her cunt contracts around you. Another mini orgasm rushing through her system. How many already washed through her, she doesn't know. The number too high for her to keep track of.
One more minute, until the time strikes midnight. One more minute until the year 2024 begins. And hopefully one more minute of you, pounding Eunbi's pussy into oblivion.
"She would look so good with your baby in her belly."
Karina joins the two other women, trying to convince you.
"Right."
Jihyo whispers into your ear.
"Impregnate that slutty pussy."
"Eunbi."
You groan her name, still not entirely sure on what to do. Do you really give in to all of them? Or should you do what's safe?
"Please."
Eunbi whines, begging for a cream pie.
"Cum inside. Fill me with that delicious cum."
The clock shows that it's midnight as you pull out of Kwon Eunbi's pussy. As if time is slowing down, you pull off the condom.
One last time, you thrust inside of her. You can't believe you are actually doing this.
Your load fills Eunbi's pussy, making her orgasm once again. Her pussy milks you dry, trying to make herself pregnant. Your cum floods her belly, turning her insides into a sticky mess.
The night is a complete success. Instead of just satisfying the three older women and fulfilling your wildest fantasies, you do breed Keon Eunbi.
And not just once. Until the sun rises and the new day of the new year starts, you breed Eunbi again and again. Pumping her pussy full with your cum, almost drowning her in it.
--------------
(Additional scene)
Happy new years everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the last story of my December special. I really liked writing the four requests you all voted for. If the opportunity presents itself again, I will definitely do this again.
But because I have a lot going on in my life during the beginning of 2024, I will barely have time to write. The next fics I want to write are: the next chapter for "Take what you can", the second chapter of Sana's small series (on Tumblr) and the first part of another small series.
It's gonna take a while, until I will be able to upload them, but I hope you stick around until then.
I also want to thank everyone one of you for supporting my writing. I can't believe that I only started writing on Tumblr seven months ago and I already got this many followers.
1665 is an incredible number. Thank you so so much.
I wish you all a great start into the new year. Stay healthy and enjoy the next 12 months of your life.
You and Sana had very few moments to enjoy each other's company, given the circumstances of her being more than busy, and then when she was free fate would force you to not be. Something you two couldn't change, but you could enjoy the moments that you did have.
That's why you two were stark naked, blanket thrown on the floor, bodies on top of each other, your left hand found her ass, - which was inches away from your face - while your other hand spread open her pink lips, tongue exploring her pussy. Breathing in her sweet scent that mingled with your shower product that she loved to wear, smelling like you was one of her favorite things of dating you.
You had millions of things that you loved about Sana, but in this moment they all fell out of your head. Her mouth swallowing your cock lovingly, tongue swirling around you like the sweetest treat in the world. Lifting her plump lips up and down, you two had created a feedback loop. Moaning into each other's bodies, creating even more pleasure. "Mmh, Sana... You are sucking so fucking good." You moaned, thrusting into her warm mouth.
She didn't go unrewarded, you sped up your pussy devouring, flicking your tongue with purpose. Her taste coating your face with how messy you drank her. But Sana wanted more, mouth pulling off with a perfect pop. "Thanks honey, always such a flatterer, not too bad yourself." She giggled, moving her pussy from your mouth as you whined, "You can go down on me later, I need this cock inside of me, just after a bit more."
Sana held you in her hand, giving kisses from your balls to your tip, up and down, left and right, every single inch was loved by your girlfriend. "Mmh, your cock always tastes so good, just wanna..." She shut herself up, replacing her hand with her heavenly mouth. Shoving every inch of your shaft into her mouth, sucking up and down, every slurp loud and distinctly pleasurable as you whined.
"God, fuck Sana! You are incredible." You moaned, watching her throat your entire cock, the definition of perfect. Her hair falling all over the place, nothing could ruin this moment.
"Hey Sana have you seen my char- Oh my fucking god!" You heard a high pitched wail, looking over to see your mutual friend, Tzuyu, face agape while Sana took your cock out of her mouth.
"Oh, uhhh what do you need?" She asked, Tzuyu's face was flushed, visibly rattled. Sana's cheek was being probed by your leaking tip.
"My charger, you borrowed it last night." Her eyes refused to make contact, "I can come back later. You seem occupied." Tzuyu cleared her throat.
"No, it's fine, hold on." Sana reached over, pulling the plug out of the wall, handing the wire to Tzuyu's outstretched hand. You've never seen a girl leave a room so quick, basically sprinting to her room.
"Haha, whoops." She giggled, "I need you now." She laid back, spreading her legs like nothing ever happened.
As you sunk into Sana's pussy, Tzuyu was laid on her bed two doors down, room completely dark as the charger laid forgotten. Pulling off her panties, feeling a shameful lust. Imagining the way her friends were getting it on, her best friend getting dicked down. She knew you two were dating, but seeing Sana kissing your cock awoke something inside of her. Tzuyu licked the pads of her fingers, reaching lower as she rubbed herself off.
She was imagining with a picture perfect image. Sana laying under you, getting held firmly as she took your shaft hammering in and out of her. She was probably so tight, and you were big, Tzuyu's finger slipped inside as she arched back, finger fucking herself while she could hear the faintest sound of Sana, small "Oh fuck!"s and "Oh my god!"s, leaking out endlessly.
Tzuyu added a second finger, completely succumbed to arousal as she started to moan, rolling over the bed, she could hear her squelching she was so wet. "Mmh!" She had never felt this horny, orgasm quickly starting to form inside her core. As you filled Sana with cum, Tzuyu defiled her sheets. The three of you unknowingly sharing a blissful orgasm.
-
You thought nothing of that night scene, however Tzuyu had confided in Sana, and after a small bit of conversation the two of them had planned something for Tzuyu to finally get lucky. After all, best friends are always willing to help each other. If anything because Sana wanted to watch.
Sana approached you, visibly dolled up. Hair nice and done, wearing red lipstick and light makeup. She moved with suspicion, like she wanted something, "Y/N?" Her voice was sweet, probing. Hand brushing against your chest.
"Honey?" You mocked "So what do you want?" You asked playfully, watching her quickly regain composure.
"Always so quick to accuse me of needing something ahaha, so I was wondering..." She begun, letting you say your mandatory 'of course' before continuing. "You remember Tzuyu... Walking in on us?" You cocked her a strange look. "And obviously you can say no, if you want."
She sat on your lap, closing the gap while you remained confusedly silent. "But, she confided something in me." Sana's lips went to your ear. "When she left, she went right to her bed, fingers inside her as she imagined you dicking me down. Said it's the strongest orgasm she's ever had baby." Your breath hitched, taken aback. Sana said it so seductively, millions of images swarming your brain that you've never thought of before.
" So, my question was dear, if you wanted to have a threesome? She's not super experienced but she is very eager." Her question was sudden, but you nodded, getting a smile. "That is my good boy, I'll come get you." She struggled to say good boy unironically, dismissing herself to go upstairs.
-
It wasn't long before you were suddenly in front of Tzuyu, who was wearing a black semi transparent crop-top, revealing her equally black bra. Unaware how busty she truly was, similar in size to your girlfriend. Her legs went on forever, thick and supple. The gates of heaven being blocked by a pair of white shorts.
Sana sat on Tzuyu's bed, observing the two of you be awkward, neither of you sure who was going to make the first move, engaging in a lengthy staring contest. Her eyes were beautiful, details you have never realized until now, lust at an all time high. "Can you two stop being awkward, do something already." Sana whined in frustration.
"Unnie I-" Tzuyu begun to speak, but she has no time to finish, hands finding her ass as you pulled her into a kiss, eyes wide open in surprise, eventually starting to kiss back. Your tongue slide inside her mouth, pressing against hers while you squeezed her pillowy clothed cheeks. She arched into your touch, smacking your lips together, Tzuyu's technique was much sloppier than Sana, lack of experience evident as she struggled to keep up with your bombarding kisses.
When you two pulled away a trail of saliva linked Tzuyu's lips to yours. "Mmh you are such a good kisser." She said, "almost wonder what else you are good at kissing." The words fired smoothly, Sana beaming at how well Tzuyu was handling herself.
"Well honey, all you gotta do is ask him whatever you want." Sana purred. Watching Tzuyu clam back up, the previous comment being a fluke. Her face flushing at the prospects.
"I-Maybe later, what do you want me to do?" She asked you, brushing the hair out of her face, Tzuyu was a people pleaser for as long as you knew her, now you were really able to take advantage of it. Thinking of her in every possible position, ones you would entertain in due time. But for now there was only one.
"I think you would look so much better on your knees yknow." You tested the water, but she was quick, falling down onto the floor. "And with a cock buried nice and deep in that throat." Her eyes widened, the level of shock was adorable, Sana took her time to move, sitting next to Tzuyu.
"Alright, let me help you out Tzu." Sana had a hairband on her arm, which she took into her hand. Grabbing Tzuyu's hair while she started to pull off your clothes. "You want your hair out the way, so let me put it up real fast." She put her hair into a pony tail, which really suited Tzuyu. "Okay, now finish getting rid of his clothes." Tzuyu complied, boxers pooling down with your pants.
"Wow." Was all Tzuyu said, cock rigid in front of her. Certainly a boost to your ego, Sana gave a healthy chuckle before continuing her lesson. "First you wanna use your hand, which means you need some lubrication, hand out." Tzuyu complied, watching as Sana spat thick bubbly spit onto her hand. "Just rub it into his shaft."
Tzuyu had obvious nerves, her hand moved slowly as it gingerly held your shaft, lubing it up, her hand was super soft, getting a soft gasp out of you. "Hmm, you are a natural, god." You praised, Sana leaned closer, "Good, you are doing so well, add your own spit, just on the tip."
Tzuyu leaned forward, letting her saliva drool out her mouth as it fell onto your tip. You shuddered at the sheer obscenity of it, she was naturally sexy, unable to make eye contact while her hand jerked you slowly.
"You are doing good Tzuyu, fucking hell." You moaned, jolting in pleasure.
"I am? Good, your cock feels so good in my hand." Tzuyu said in a faint whisper, enjoying the way you throbbed in her dainty hand, nails painted lilac, they were all long and pointed except the two middle fingers, you could only guess why.
"It feels even better in your mouth, but we will get there, first let's use your tongue." Sana said, "So, you wanna start at the bottom, work your way up to the tip, I'll demonstrate." She leaned forward, tongue dragging from your balls, going intentionally slow, hitting all the right places, reaching your tip and finishing with a sensual kiss.
"I see, I've got this." Tzuyu assured herself, taking a timid flick against you, going up as she licked, her technique not as refined but just as pleasing, her eyes staring at the cock she was servicing. "Mmh, you taste good." She swirled her tongue around, expanding on her teachers knowledge with her own guesses.
"Fuck Tzuyu, keep that up." She smiled, you noticed Sana had moved, "I forgot something, be right back." She left, leaving you alone with Tzuyu, who was happily slurping away, she was good but you needed more, to feel that mouth which you assumed was heavenly.
"Tzuyu, I'll guide you for this part, put your lips on my tip, remember to breathe through your nose." You assured, becoming the substitute teacher.
"Okay..." She took a deep breath, her lips were full, cushions that felt so blissful. "Oh fuck those are nice, go a little lower, as much as you think you can handle." Tzuyu was ambitious, taking far more than she could handle, gagging harshly as your cock fell out of her mouth.
"Careful..." You warned, she tried again, this time not attempting to take more than she could suck, going to her limit. Making eye contact for the first time, eyes fully open, she was so proud. "Good, now, bob your head." Tzuyu moved slow, too slow, but you endured, admiring her determination while she gave head.
"I see you taught her the next step?" Sana came in behind you, but whatever she brought with was hidden from sight.
"Yep, look how fucking cute she is sucking dick." You gasped, Tzuyu pulled herself off your cock, eyes pleading before she started to speak.
"I love it, fuck, your boyfriends cock fits perfectly in my mouth." Tzuyu panted, eyes looking at Sana, she attempted to take it back in. But you grabbed her head, holding her inches away, you needed to have a taste of Tzuyu.
"On the bed, Sana you aswell." They immediately complied, moving with an intention elegance, bodies flowing onto the bed, "Honey, get rid of her shirt for me, gonna undress this beauty." She was quick, getting the bothersome fabric off in a blur, Sana was quick to kiss Tzuyu's tits, sucking on her friends nipples like she was starving.
You couldn't blame her, pulling Tzuyu's shorts to her feet, you were sat on the floor, grabbing her thick thighs, pulling her clothed pussy mere inches from your face, the red underwear soaked through in sheer need, they were quickly removed.
In front of you laid the treasure you had been yearning for, shaved entirely bare, her pink lips begging for any touches, look slightly lower a shiny seal covered her ass, purple in colour. "A buttplug?" You asked, mind getting even more clouded with the possibilities, she was going to get the full treatment.
"Sana said how good it felt, oh my god keep sucking my tits!" She turned her focus to your girlfriend, you had to compete, you dove tongue first into her pink slit, collecting Tzuyu's juices in spades. You needed more, she cried out at the dual oral, unaware of where to put her attention.
"Mmmh, Tzuyu what do you want me to do to this pussy?" You teased, voice having a sadistic undertone. You watched her stumble on her words, lips quaking.
"I, want you to finger me! Suck my clit!" She managed to get out in a grunt, you gave her a smile, climbing up as you shoved your fingers into her mouth, letting her lubricate your fingers before getting back down to eye level with her cunt.
If she asks, she shall receive. Your fingers found their way inside, her walls tightening around you, "How quickly do you want it?" Your mouth found her clit, sucking the nub, she screamed out in pleasure, the room starting to heat up.
"Fuck! Destroy my pussy with your fingers!" She begged, you looked up, Sana was squeezing the neglected nipple with her spare hand, Tzuyu's head had a sheen of sweat, face flushing red. You listened, fingers slamming inside with a mind of their own, you sucked and sucked on her clit, the pleasure was too extreme for Tzuyu, but all her previous nervousness had been replaced by a need to cum, to be used in every way she could be.
"AHHH! That's the spot, fuck!" Tzuyu was breathing hard, her body shaking, your ravenous tongue moved off her clit, sliding in every sopping spot of Tzuyu, delivering flat presses against her warmth while your fingers rocked in and out.
Her legs tilted, showing her dancer flexibility. Pushing you face first into her intoxicating pussy, the scent filling your nose as oxygen became an afterthought in exchange for her sweetness. "God! God! Fuck!" She said in between high pitched wails, her taste spurred you on, flicking your tongue against her, fingers moving at light speed.
"Fuck, gonna cum!" She shouted, overwhelmed by every little detail. Sana's actions, your mouth, your fingers. The fact she was getting an orgasm from her friends, everything. It created an explosion within her core and it's results landed on your fingers, coating in an orgasmic residue. She came forcefully, riding it out on your tongue.
The two of you eventually stopped, lunging at each other as you let her get a taste of Tzuyu, she had been severely neglected, she hid it well though, barely unable to tell how aroused she was. The only exposing factor being her eyes. "You want some touching aswell?" You asked your girlfriend, she gave a courteous smile but shook her head.
"No it's alright, trust me I'll use that pretty face of hers. Get her tongue to work."
"Please unnie, ride my face!" Tzuyu begged, watching Sana strip down slowly, starting with her blouse, throwing it off into the corner of the room. Next was her skirt, there was certainly an advantage to summer weather, and that was seeing your girlfriend wear progressively shorter outfits. To finish the act she unclipped her bra, in one smooth motion, giving Tzuyu the honors of removing her panties.
She looked directly at you, bringing Sana's soaked underwear to her nose, giving it a perverse sniff as she breathed in the imprinted arousal, that pushed you to the edge. Pressing your tip against her entrance, getting it nice and coated.
"Ah! Just put it in, use me-" Whatever final command she was going to utter was muffled against Sana pressing herself onto Tzuyu's face, who responded by grabbing onto her tight cheeks. You smiled at seeing Sana use that perfect tongue, head thrown back while she rode.
You begun to press inside her, you thought your girlfriend was tight. But jesus. Every inch felt like a warm hug, unwilling to let go as it clenched around your cock, you took it slow at first, letting Tzuyu adjust to your cock buried deep inside her.
You could hear Tzuyu's muffled moans, fighting to escape against the wet folds being grinded against her tongue, Sana and you had much louder moans, your girlfriend being always super loud and the Taiwanese cunt you were sloppily thrusting into was making you go feral. "Fucking hell Tzuyu." You gasped.
She felt divine, the sight in front of you so sinfully juxtaposing the heaven you felt. "Hmmm! That's a good girl, keep going!" Sana praised, you moved faster, feeling every convulsion in her body, the room was sweltering, sweat forming on every spare inch of open skin.
"Hmm! So fucking wet." You kept slapping against her crotch, each connection made a loud impact. Your grip tightened, a testament to the determination you had to make her cum all over your cock. To make her fall deeper into pleasure.
Every moment came with its struggles, an uphill battle to fight against the orgasm tightening within your core, watching Tzuyu's thick thighs jiggle hypnotically. "Tzu! Shit!" You screamed, Sana couldn't get words out, just wanton moans, she was so close. You kept pounding, practically humping into Tzuyu's body, her squeezes becoming almost too much to endure, you looked down, cock sliding in and out of her hole, shining with her need.
Sana came with a high pitched wail, falling off of Tzuyu's face as she was finally given more oxygen, moaning heavy and breathy while she laid there taking dick.
"Oh fuck Y/N, keep fucking me!" She begged, like there was ever another choice, she was too tight, too perfect.
"I'm not gonna, fuck - ing stop! Not until you cum for me!" You growled, her eyes was hazed, desperate to finish as her chest heaved up and down, you could tell she was getting close.
"I'm so close, so so fucking close!" She warned, clenching around you, body stiffening up. Moaning to an unholy decibel, after a second she went limp, falling back against the bed. You were satisfied, pulling out as your hand jerked yourself quickly. Orgasm hitting you suddenly, firing every spurt of your seed onto Tzuyu's pussy, glazing her lips with cum, coated in excitement. You fell to the ground, everyone taking a moment to rest out of pure exhaustion.
-
You all took quite a long time to recover, but that was in the past, in the present Tzuyu was in the middle, buttplug removed and laying on the bed while you and Sana licked her opened ass, giving a dual reaming, tracing her hole while you prepared her for the oncoming storm. "Such a nice ass Tzu, can't wait for it to be filled with my boyfriends cock?" Sana didn't wait for a response, dipping her tongue back against her ass. You two frequently clashed tongues, all desperate to enjoy Tzuyu's tight ass.
"Yeah! I can't wait to feel it, need it to fill me up!" Tzuyu had well and truly turned into a cock slut.
"Well don't let me stop you honey, he'll destroy that pretty little ass of yours." She grabbed the lube, "But first I wanna make sure you are going to be as ready as possible." Your girlfriend was always a caring one, looking after her members in every way possible, now her lubricated fingers were entering her asshole.
Perhaps it was mean, getting behind an unassuming Sana and pushing your cock inside of her, giving her the attention she fully deserved. "Fuck! Baby that's!" She gasped in surprise, taking a moment to get used to your inconsiderate actions.
Sana's pussy felt incredible, warm wet and familiar. You grabbed her hips, thrusting in and out, her body a vixen that coaxed your pleasure. "Fuck Sana, warming me up so well." You gasped, using her body for your gain.
Sana kept moving her fingers, making sure she was ready.
You pounded Sana for the next few minutes, waiting for the go ahead. Which you were given. Cock ready to get in her inviting ass, your tip pushed in, showing no sign of pain so you added another inch. It was almost obnoxiously tight, attempting to suffocate you.
"Stop moving slow! Fuck me in the ass!" Tzuyu shouted, pushing her head into the pillow, ass pointed into the sky. If that was the invitation to move, you were taking it. Speeding up, your rigid length using her ass as a warm fleshlight to cum in.
"This ass is so fucking tight, trying to choke me! Fuck." You growled, letting throat ripping moans roar out.
Tzuyu whined into the bed, begging for more, which you responded with a proper fucking. Her velvety hole making you throb, Sana got on the bed, licking the warm sweat off her friends back. "Keep going! Keep fucking me! I just need more!" Tzuyu's voice was full of need, desire, the vigorous pounding getting to you both.
"I'm gonna fuck this ass until it takes my cum! You are going to fucking take it!" You growled, slapping your balls against her pussy.
"Yeah! Cum in my ass! Then I'll make Sana lick it out for me!" Tzuyu whined, you just couldn't stop pounding. Energy falling off while you let the feeling form inside of you.
"I'm gonna cum! I'm fuck, gonna cum in this tight ass!" You whimpered, choking out the last few words before shooting your final orgasm into Tzuyu's fat ass, pulling out as Sana's tongue immediately started to lick the cum out of her gaping asshole while you caught your breath. Tzuyu pulled Sana back onto the bed, engaging into some sloppy 69, licking each other's pussys.
“So—“ Natty breaks the silence with a lean forward in her chair, elbows resting on either side of her drink—a matcha latte piled high with an absurd amount of whipped cream. A bit clings to her upper lip before she licks it away. "Have you ever had a threesome before?"
You nearly choke on your drink.
Even for her, the question is bold, nonchalant, and taking you by surprise as you stir your own coffee. It's hardly the first time you've been surprised by what comes out of her mouth, but it's going to take a much stronger coffee than this one for the mental whiplash. "You know, most people start the day with a hello. Maybe a how are you doing. Good morning, even?"
Natty only smiles. "Then most people are boring. Now, come on. Answer the question."
The thing is, Natty isn't most people and can't even begin to pretend she has a filter, nor any sense of decorum. For as long as you've known her—which is basically since orientation week during your very first semester. Back when both of you were shy and clueless, fumbling along the university hallways. She’s always been like this. Bold and beautiful and utterly shameless. Ever since that one fateful day where she locked herself out of her car in the snow, crying her pretty eyes out until you offered her a ride home that ended with her between your legs—because she wouldn't let you say no to a blowjob as a way to return the favor.
So romantic.
And you've been inseparable ever since.
"Where's this even coming from?" you ask, dipping a bite of your pancake into a pool of syrup. "Did you buy me breakfast so you could pry into my sex life?"
"As if I need an excuse for that," Natty says, lips wrapping around her straw, her cheeks hollowed as she slurps with this gaze that doesn't seem the least bit innocent. "Can't a girl just be curious?"
The pancakes here are impeccable—but not enough to distract from the weight of her question, or how red your cheeks feel under the heat of it. "Curious usually implies a level of subtlety."
"When was I ever subtle? You'd be bored to death." It's true. So much. If there ever was an opposite to subtlety, Natty would probably be their ambassador. If she ever came up to you and asked something simple like what your favorite color was, you would know something was terribly wrong and she might need to visit the university's clinic right away. "Now, seriously, you're deflecting. Just answer the question."
You sigh, pausing before you pop another piece of pancake in your mouth, fork dangling uselessly between your fingers. "Not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly? It's a yes or no question. Not a lot of gray area here," she points out with this cocky grin that really doesn't help matters. But fuck her and her logic and the way she's sitting there with those tits all proudly on display when she over more, knowing they'll distract you from thinking clearly. "Which one is it?"
"Fine, no. I haven't. Happy now?" you admit, hoping the frustration in your tone would make it clear enough you're not exactly thrilled at being put under a microscope like this.
"Really?" Her brows raise. It's not often you find Natty speechless but, here we are. She obviously thinks there's a world where you have a threesome every time you do the laundry and she's confused why that isn't the case. "Never? Guy with a cock like yours and you haven't shared it with more than one girl at a time?"
"Sorry to disappoint," you answer, rolling your eyes. You've shared a bed with Natty plenty of times over the years you've known her, and you're not exactly a stranger to each other's bodies—but still, this is not a conversation you ever expected to have over breakfast.
Natty laughs. "Don't be. But sounds like something we should fix then," she offers, casually, like her suggestion is the same as deciding what to order for dessert.
"Yeah, I'll just find two pretty girls to sleep with at the same time, how hard can that be? Let me post an ad on the campus bulletin board. Pretty sure I'd find a line halfway to the dean's office."
"Two? I'm the first girl you'd choose and you know it," Natty remarks, smug, no trace of self-consciousness in her voice. And she's not entirely wrong. You're never admitting that out loud though. That would go straight to her head and it's already big enough as is. "We'll just have to find you the second one."
"Easy for you to say. Didn't realize you were such an expert in these matters."
"Please, if anyone is, it's me," Natty brags with a casual toss of her hair. "The hottest girl on campus with a body like this and you think I'm not being shared every chance I get? College boys can't get enough of me. Neither can the girls. Why even stop at just two, when I can just get the whole back row of chemistry class involved?"
The worst part is how plausible that actually seems.
"Look, it's not exactly a priority for me, Nat. You're more than I can handle as is," you say, playing your best card with hopes that it’s enough of a distraction from this subject.
"Well, lucky for you, I'll do all the leg work then. Leave it all to me."
The way she says it, no hesitation whatsoever, is terrifying. Like she has a plan already formed, all that's left is execution. And you're not sure anything should ever be left to her, ever.
But a part of you has to admit—you wouldn't exactly hate sharing a bed with Natty and... someone else. Someone just as pretty, someone with a body made from pure sin who knows how to play with her, who can hold their own against her. You can't even imagine that there are too many potential candidates that would fit the bill, but you try to not get ahead of yourself, because no matter how crazy the idea seems, nothing is for sure. No need to get your hopes up, so soon.
So you finish your breakfast, with no other mention of the topic—even as her foot trails up and down your leg, a reminder that yes, you're definitely both attracted to each other and haven't done anything about it for way too fucking long.
✦ ✦
The next time you see Natty is two days later when she arrives with a laundry basket at your apartment, with some frail excuse about her machine being broken that you see through instantly. Not that you're about to complain when she starts to strip down to just a thong and a black Calvin Klein bra that barely holds in her generous tits, walking around your place half-naked like she lives here.
Which she essentially does, given how often she spends her nights in your bed.
Before her first load of laundry even finishes, you’re already leaning back against the couch, pants and boxers down to your ankles as Natty strokes your hard length. You can’t take your eyes off her tits, watching them jiggle with every movement she makes.
The view is hypnotic enough, with this agonizingly slow rhythm her hands have as they travel along the length of your cock, and maybe you're thankful for her washer being broken down—regardless of whether or not it's actually the truth.
"You feel so built up, baby," Natty says as her hands work your shaft, thumb rubbing across the slit and spreading what leaks out along your swollen tip. "Don't you jerk off when I'm not around?"
The gentle squeeze she gives is just perfect, enough to get you groaning like you can’t get enough of her touch. "Not much point when I can just wait for you to do the job for me. What would I even watch to get off?"
"Please," she giggles as the movements of her wrist get harder to deal with. "How many pictures of my tits do you have saved on your phone? Or of me without underwear. The ones I send you when I'm so hot for you, in the library, when you're in class, with three fingers inside myself. You jerk off to them, right? Those videos of me riding a toy in my bed while I moan your name, pretending you were behind me."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't keep things like that on my phone," you say, voice cracking midway.
Natty just laughs and your cock throbs against her palm, giving you away completely.
"You're such a bad fucking liar. Pretty sure you'd jerk off in class if I sent you nudes while you were there." Natty stares you dead in the eye and your lack of response is all the answer she needs. "There's no way you'd ever delete them. Especially not the pictures from the Halloween party, where I blew you in the bathroom. Pretty sure everyone in that house could hear when you fucked my throat."
"Jesus, Nat—fuck," you choke out, and you can still visualize that night, how ridiculously hot the maid costume looked on her, how hard it was for her to keep her phone recording while you ruined her pretty face, mascara running, lipstick smeared all over and god, you'd pay good money to see that view again.
"Do you know how hard it was not to share that video with the whole campus? How much you came in my mouth? How rough you were with me and how much of a mess I was after?"
It's not fair the way she brings up these memories while she strokes your shaft, squeezing a little tighter each time. The way Natty gets a firm grip while you mindlessly stare at those tits, so close to spilling out of her bra working overtime. This conversation alone is practically enough to get off and she knows that, using it for her advantage.
And even with how built-up you were before, this is all getting you there too fast. "I love how fucking hard you are. Throbbing so hard and ready to spill all over my big tits, aren’t you?”
"God, please—your fucking hands are magic.”
"That's the thing though," Natty tells you, and her strokes become agonizingly slow, until the motion ceases, replaced by a firm, lingering squeeze that’s enough to drive you up the wall. "The best part of laundry day is milking your big fucking cock. Getting such a huge load out of these heavy balls, it’s such a good thing you have me, isn’t it?"
Sometimes, you wonder.
Thankfully, her pace breaks from the rhythmic squeezing of her hand, returning to full speed with this twisted smile on her face, because you're pretty sure you were dying for a few seconds. "I haven't felt you shooting on my face in ages…"
"Too busy fucking your tight cunt or these huge goddamn tits."
"Can't really blame you for that. They must feel fucking amazing," she boasts, getting a firm grip and a nice twist of her wrist at the same time, bringing you that much closer. And this scene takes you back to the first day you gave her a ride home—when she refused to take no for an answer. A different couch, but the same position, Natty on her knees—an all-too-familiar sight by now.
"Fuck, so good, Nat, I'm so close," you groan, feeling her pump and squeeze harder by the second, keeping the perfect rhythm and twisting just right. Exactly how you need her to and every stroke has you inching towards the edge.
"Good. Give me a nice thick, big load. I want you to shoot so fucking much all over these tits, ruin this expensive bra," Natty demands, pumping at record speed, voice edging you closer and closer until you can feel it right on the precipice,
"Shit, god, don’t fucking stop, I'm gonna—"
One last firm pump has you throbbing hard and cum erupts from the tip with thick spurts as she aims you right between her covered breasts, smiling wide. The view of white splattering across her chest and staining the fabric of her bra makes it even better—It's one hell of a load, given how many days worth of cum she's coaxing out, spurting messily and watching as pearlescent strands cling all over her perfect tits.
It's just absolutely fucking filthy and Natty’s never looked more delighted.
Once Natty’s gotten every drop from you, she glides a finger across her cum-covered chest, tasting it as she pops it into her mouth with a satisfied moan, sucking it clean. "Missed that so fucking much."
And the strokes don't stop, milking the last bit of your release even after you're past the point of oversensitivity, but you hardly care when you can't tear your gaze from her chest, a canvas of white painted over her that's a perfect work of art.
"I think maybe we should have laundry day together more often…" you muse, content to bask in the lingering bliss as long as you can.
"Of course you do. When is anything with me not fun?" Natty retorts as she releases your cock and gets back on her feet, not even concerned by the fact she's wearing your cum like her favorite necklace. "I think I've got about half an hour left on the dryer. Plenty of time for you to fuck me senseless while we're waiting, don't you think?"
That’s when she saunters off without waiting for an answer, unhooking that cum-stained bra and slipping out of her underwear along the way.
Never one for subtlety.
✦ ✦
And now, you're supposed to focus on class somehow—a two-hour lecture, right after Natty had pulled you into the nearest bathroom, hopped up on the sink, legs spread and heels locked around your waist while you slid balls fucking deep into her. You can't even jot down a note without picturing her shirt ripped open, tits spilling out of her bra and bouncing freely as your hips pounded into her—or the way she guided your fingers around her throat when she came on your cock, greedy and insatiable for more.
Honestly, you should have just taken her up on that offer to skip class altogether. Especially with your load still dripping down her thighs as she slid her panties back on, doing the bare minimum to look presentable.
But here you are now, trying to pay attention, both of you sitting a few rows apart to avoid raising any suspicion. Like it's not obvious when Natty looks back and smiles, hair still a bit of a mess, visible marks all over her neck. Natty wears them proudly, not even daring to cover up the proof with makeup, wanting everyone to see what you'd done.
As the class drags on, your phone vibrates, and you're not even sure you want to check it, expecting more photos of her in various states of nudity. Something you always appreciate, but not exactly what you should be looking at in a public area. But still, the curiosity wins, so with a sigh, you tap at the screen, going against your better judgment to open the notification.
> Nat: wish you were still between my legs
this class sucks and you should be bending me over this desk right now
1 image attached
And that’s even more of a warning to not open it up with anyone around.
The temptation is strong, but your common sense wins—barely, as you silence your phone and shove it back in your pocket. At least it gives something else to think about while time drags on painfully, because god knows what's waiting for you in that picture. Last time you made this mistake in public, it was more shots of in the mirror, tongue out, her tits not covered up one bit, nothing tasteful whatsoever. Who knows what you’ll get this time, but there’s a good chance it’ll be a shot of her in the middle of getting her guts rearranged, because Natty never misses a chance to document every moment of you pounding her.
Either way, you've somehow managed to last the full two hours, mind entirely somewhere else, and it's a sigh of relief when the professor finally dismisses the class. With relative ease, Natty finds you among the sea of students leaving the hall, linking arms. "Hey, handsome. Did you miss me?"
"About as much as a kick to the balls.”
Natty scoffs. "You ass. That's what I get for sending a present?"
"What present?"
She shoves a hip into you and rolls her eyes, clearly unamused. "Don't tell me you didn't see. Did you seriously just ignore them?"
"Like I'd ever check while I'm still surrounded by other students. I'm sure they'd all love a peek at your nudes, but they have to find their own."
Natty's laughter cuts through. "Ungrateful bastard. Railing me in a public bathroom is fine, but you draw the line at seeing my tits. Aren't you just the innocent one?"
“My innocence is not up for debate. Even if you want to corrupt it with your naked body.”
"Yeah, an innocent guy who just busted inside of me ten minutes before class,” Natty says as she walks beside you, pressing her body close, tits grazing your arm.
There’s no counter to that, really.
"I sent more than just nudes though," she admits and pauses, licking her lips before leaning into you and whispering. "Maybe you should just check. You'll like what's waiting for you."
"Look, Nat, I know how hard it must have been, sitting there horny as fuck for the last hour, but it can wait."
Natty scrunches her nose in frustration. "Fine. See if I send you anything again. No more tits for you," she threatens, storming off in a huff with a clear swing in her hips. It's the kind of petty tantrum she pulls when she's feeling extra needy and neglected, hoping it’ll push your buttons. But you're not one to give in the moment she throws a little fit.
"What would I ever do without the distraction? Like you could ever resist the chance to show them off in the middle of class."
"Fuck you."
"Maybe later—if you behave."
"Ugh, you're so lucky you're cute and your dick's so fucking good. Any other guy would have been on their knees groveling after ignoring nudes from me."
"Good thing you're in love with me then," you quip, smirking and only laughing when her reaction is to punch you in the arm. Not lightly either. But Natty immediately latches back onto your arm, refusing to let go when you try to shrug her off, walking beside you with this annoyed look on her face. "You're such an asshole."
"Learned from the best."
Despite the feigned anger, Natty can't help but lean in, giving you a brief peck on the cheek, staying attached to you the entire walk. She's being particularly clingy today, a rare trait for her. "So, bar tonight?"
"Only if you're buying."
"Baby, when have I ever bought a single drink in my life?" Natty replies, tugging you down for another quick kiss.
"Guess you'll have fun drinking alone then."
“Too bad, loser. Guess I'll have fun bringing home one of the cute boys there.”
"Please, they'll go home broken and you’ll be unsatisfied with whoever is brave enough to come try you,” you say, and she knows that can't even be argued, that the idea of her hooking up with some stranger seems comical at best.
She knows you’re right, and that’s all it takes as Natty runs a hand through her hair and groans. "Fine, I'll buy the first round. Deal?"
"One round? Don't know if that's really enough incentive to even leave the house."
"Greedy much? I'm not made of money,” Natty says, bumping her shoulder into yours.
"Guess I'll see you next laundry day then."
"Oh my god, fine,” Natty finally agrees. “Two rounds. And I'll suck your dick in the bathroom, is that good enough?"
"It's a start.”
✦ ✦
Turns out, drinks taste so much better when someone else is paying. Natty looks more than pleased to have your company, not even complaining about covering the tab for the first round of shots—tequila right off the bat, because she loves an excuse to lick salt off you.
"Cheers to you for actually coming out with me for once," Natty says as the burn makes its way down her throat.
"Don't get too used to it. I'm only here for the free drinks."
"And the view," she adds, and you can't disagree as your eyes travel to her low-cut top, drowning in cleavage. This little outfit she picked was chosen to do the most damage, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
"The tits are a nice bonus, “ you agree, shamelessly staring as she reaches for another shot and throws her head back.
"Aren't they? Everyone's jealous that you've got these beauties in your face all the time," Natty points out, jutting her big tits out as she runs hands all over and gives them a squeeze, confident as ever. You can't help but laugh, endlessly amused by how much she loves showing off. "Lucky you, huh?"
"Very," you reply, grinning through the burn when you down your second shot. "No arguments there."
"One of the many benefits only you get to experience. Not everyone gets to put their mouth on these. Have their hands all over me. Or even fuck my huge ass whenever they please."
"And humble as ever, I see," you say with a laugh, shaking your head, because that ego is as big as her fucking tits. Natty gets a little handsy as the drinks set in, when the shots switch over to something less strong—something fruity, pink and sugary sweet, the kind that goes down easily as her fingers trail along your inner thighs, gradually getting a bit higher with every sip. The way she looks at you is making it pretty fucking hard to not shove her flat on the table, push that slutty little skirt up and take her where everyone can see.
But that wouldn't exactly fly, nor have you had enough alcohol to give her what she wants in front of an audience.
Before your imagination gets the best of you, Natty shifts in her seat, the movement drawing your eyes straight down when she uncrosses and recrosses her legs, this slight little peek beneath the leather skirt and the urge to fuck her into tomorrow suddenly returns with a vengeance.
"What are you thinking, right now?" you ask, glancing into those dark eyes, thick with mascara and desire.
Natty lifts the straw to her mouth and slowly takes a drink, a smirk pulling at her lips. "Just how much I'd love to suck your dick under the table."
"Jesus, Nat," you reply, knowing it's no idle threat with a woman as brazen as Natty.
"What, did that not sound appealing to you? Me on my knees with your cock fucking my throat, you pulling on my hair like you love to. Making me gag on you until tears are running down my cheeks and you shoot so fucking far down my throat—"
"I need a stronger fucking drink," you groan, the visual leaving your head spinning.
"What's wrong, baby? Getting a little worked up? Or is the thought of my pretty lips around your cock making your pants feel a little tight?" Natty asks as her finger traces around the rim of her glass, licking her lips for extra effect. "I did promise you a blowjob in the bathroom, didn't I? Ready to cash that in now?"
"Not a chance I'm standing up now, thanks," you mutter, hiding an awkward adjustment of your jeans that makes Natty grin wide.
"Getting a little hard already, and nothing you can do about that? Poor thing."
"Natty, stop, I swear—"
"Alright, fine. You're no fun. Guess I'll have to talk about literally anything that won't get you thinking about my tits squeezed tight around your big fucking cock."
Yeah, you definitely need another drink. Maybe two. But mercifully, Natty calms down a bit after a few sips, falling quiet for the most part while she plays with the straw between her lips. Over the course of the hour, the number of empty glasses start piling up, so many of them you start to lose track. A light flush settles on her cheeks and she can hardly keep her hands to herself, running fingers through your hair as she downs the remainder of her current drink.
"You know, this place is much better with company," Natty blurts out, words slurred just enough for you to laugh at, because you're pretty sure her tally of drinks has surpassed yours at this point.
"How nice of you to admit it."
"I wasn't talking about you, idiot. You won't even let me suck you off under the table."
You can only let out the biggest sigh, wondering why you agreed to come here in the first place. "Oh, sorry for not wanting to get kicked out of a bar and have public indecency charges added to my record."
"Wouldn't be the first time we've gotten caught," Natty laughs, eyes lit up, and of course she finds it all so funny. "Not my fault that movie was so goddamn boring. Had to give you something better to watch."
"And now we're both banned from that place forever. Thanks, Nat."
"Oh, please, don't act like you didn't enjoy me bouncing on your dick. How was I supposed to sit through an entire movie like that? If anything they should be thanking us for putting on a better show."
"You're ridiculous."
"I know, but that's why you spend so much time with me."
"No, it's mostly the tits."
Natty kicks you underneath the table. "Rude."
The conversation dies for a fleeting moment before Natty leans in closer. She's clearly past tipsy by this point, giggling at nothing and that's definitely the alcohol’s doing. "As I was saying, this place is so much better with company—"
"In case you've forgotten."
"Again, not talking about you. Let me finish a fucking sentence, will you?" Natty doesn't give you time to respond, the second time she's brought this up in just a few minutes. "Not that I don't enjoy making you squirm just by talking, but we could use more company."
“What, someone who’ll let you suck them off under the table?”
"No, dumbass,” Natty says as she looks at her phone for a second, the bright light illuminating her face. "Look at that. They'll be here soon."
You raise an eyebrow with this puzzled look on your face and take a long drink, trying not to get too terribly invested in whatever Natty is planning. "They? Who, exactly?"
"You'd know if you checked those fucking pictures I sent," she answers back with this sharp tone, looking more offended than you've ever seen her. Might as well pull out the phone from your pocket, swipe through the messages from earlier, and oh.
There's no hesitation this time as you thumb through a series of photos sent earlier—but they're not of her this time. Whoever the girl on your screen is, it isn't Natty, but she matches the level of hotness perfectly, posing in what looks like a hotel bathroom wearing these tight little shorts with fishnet stockings, a skimpy black top exposing an alarming amount of cleavage—not quite as busty as Natty, but her tits still look divine, as does the rest of her, curves for days with a face prettier than anyone has any right to be.
"What do you think?" Natty asks, watching you practically salivate, and the more you scroll, the less clothed the woman is—standing in the same room with her shorts undone, the next with her top lifted, tits out and barely covered with her arm. She’s completely exposed when you flip to the final image, naked in the mirror, a big smile on her face like she's modeling.
And what a body, these full hips, long slender legs, and an ass made for grabbing, squeezing, burying your face between and you’ve completely forgotten the fact that Natty's even here.
"She's—uh, pretty," is the best you can manage while still distracted, zooming in a tad closer, to study more of this mystery woman. "Who is this anyway?"
"Pretty? Is that all you can say? Don't be shy, tell me what you're actually thinking. Don't hold back on my account."
"She's really hot, Nat. What the hell am I supposed to say, giving me nudes of some stranger is the last thing I'm expecting, and—"
"There you go, better answer," Natty says with this satisfied smile like you'd finally managed to say something right. "So tell me—do you want to fuck her?"
"Wh-what?" you stutter, immediately shifting your attention back to Natty's gaze.
"Don't pretend like you didn't hear me. Do you want her? Bend her over and pound her real fucking hard into the mattress? She's into most things I am—and plenty we haven't tried."
"What the fuck kind of question is that, Nat? Jesus—"
"A simple one," Natty replies, as if anything out of her mouth is ever simple. "Do. you. want. to. fuck. her?”
You can't tell if it's the alcohol or Natty's seductive tone turning your brain into mush, struggling to form any coherent answer. "I—uh—"
"Come on, don't play coy now. Be honest, would you or wouldn't you? I know she's your type. Don't you want to just absolutely destroy that big ass of hers?"
The room is definitely spinning at this point. There's not an easy response. So you resort to the most logical one possible in your inebriated state. "Who wouldn't?"
"Good. Then it's settled. You're fucking her. We both are. Tonight."
"I'm sorry, we? Hold on, Nat, what the fuck is—"
"What, you've never had a threesome before, and I told you I would find a pretty girl to join us. So I did."
"Join us? Hold on, you were serious about that? How did you even manage this so fast?"
"Please, did you forget who the fuck you were dealing with? She's a really good friend of mine. In town for the weekend for work and wanted to catch up—I told her we'd hit the bar and see what happens."
"I can't believe—I don't even know her name or anything. "
"But you still have the urge to tear off her clothes and just ravish her, don't you? You wanted a third, I'm bringing you one." Natty reaches out and caresses your cheek, leaning close. "Unless you don't want that anymore. Then I'll just tell her something came up and meet up with her later."
"No, it's not—of course I fucking do, but it's just sudden and all the nudes and now this and—"
"Relax, baby, I've got everything taken care of. There's nothing to be worried about. Say yes and she's yours for the night. We can fuck her until the sun comes up. And even a little bit after."
You inhale sharply, pausing, letting Natty's words sink in, trying not to sound too overly eager when you agree to this. “Y-yeah, ok, let's do it."
"You don’t sound too sure. Be a little more convincing—tell me you really want her."
Natty is grinning as you’ve become a flustered mess, not entirely sober, but unable to think about anything besides seeing this this girl bent over your sheets, whatever her name is, and just fucking her senseless. "God, I want her—need her. Need to fuck her she forgets what day it is, until the sheets are ruined and she’s soaked in sweat, exhausted and dripping cum, looking like a fucking mess and all she's able to say is my name. I want her. I want both of you.”
There's this impressed look on Natty’s face, like she’s gotten the exact reaction she was fishing for. "Alright, tiger, was that so hard? She'll be here any minute, and trust me, you won't be disappointed."
You finish off the rest of your drink in one go, hoping to steady your nerves before this mystery girl arrives, while also trying not to overthink the decision you've made. And it doesn't take much longer when you hear the chair next to you scrape against the ground, catching a glimpse of what has to be the breathtaking girl from the photos, a seductive smile gracing her lips and oh, those eyes are going to be the death of you.
Natty turns to the newcomer with a pleased little grin. "Hey, gorgeous."
"Hey yourself, pretty girl."
Her attention shifts from Natty towards you, getting a first glance and looking you up and down. You can’t say it’s easy to return her gaze, but you do your best—admiring this beauty come to life that Natty has managed to snatch right out of your fantasies. "This must be your little boytoy. He's cute."
"Isn't he? Think I’m keeping this one," Natty teases, possessive in every word she speaks."Absolutely ruins me. Never fails to get the job done."
And seconds in, she's already leaving you an embarrassed, flustered wreck.
"Good choice. I'm Julie, by the way," she says, offering a friendly smile and an outstretched hand, though not hiding the seduction behind her eyes. "I've heard so much about you."
Julie takes your hand with her cold, delicate fingers, and really, she's every bit as stunning as she looked in her photos. Similar features to Natty, though a bit less reserved—a face pretty enough to invite your lingering stare, long dark hair, piercing eyes, and a smile that’s utterly irresistible.
"Oh, don't worry. Only the good parts."
"As if there are any bad ones," Natty says, all full of confidence per usual, but it’s nice when you’re on the end of it. "Oh, he knows all about you. At least what I've shown him."
"Oh, those? Hope you liked them. There's plenty more," Julie says, like it's nothing to show nudes to a complete stranger, an intriguing mix between forward and shameless
"Don’t worry, he loved them," Natty replies, and you just sit there, in silence, too stunned to say a word. "Couldn't stop talking about how badly he wants to fuck you. Something about him wanting to bury his face between your ass and tonguefuck you for hours.
"Jesus, fuck Nat, why would you even—" you mutter, looking away, and you think there's still time to make a run for it and never see either of these two again. Your face grows hotter, ears turning red and Julie doesn't seem bothered at all—not the slightest bit embarrassed to hear Natty lay out all your dirty thoughts right here for the world to hear.
Julie leans back a bit, arms crossed, not letting her gaze falter and grins widely. "Did he now? I would certainly love that. Sounds like so much fun."
But the girls just exchange a look and start laughing, which doesn't do any favors for how small and helpless you feel right now. And if that weren’t enough to deal with, Julie places a hand on your thigh, giving a delicate squeeze that puts you even more on edge. "Now now, there's no need to be so shy, handsome. If anything, that's a compliment. Thousands of people see those photos and think the same thing—but not everyone gets to follow up on it.”
"Professional model," Natty adds, nodding towards Julie with a proud grin. "Don't ever let her convince you otherwise, she's been on every magazine cover imaginable."
Julie gives her own small, soft laugh, glancing in Natty's direction and dismissing her statement. "Oh, please. Not all. There might be some lingerie stores you might recognize me from. But the nudes are just a little side gig."
"And porn. A lot of porn, mostly anal and—"
"Natty!"
"What? There's no reason to hide it, and I'm sure he doesn't mind one bit," Natty says as she leans back in her seat, and it's rather amusing to be on the other side of a conversation like this.
"Okay, then, fine. Yes, some porn on occasion. It pays rather well because most girls are more selective, afraid of ruining their reputation or whatever. More opportunities for me."
It's still a struggle to believe a model like Julie is actually sitting across from you, let alone Natty's close friend—because surely they're both out of your league on multiple levels.
"So, Julie," Natty says, eager to change the subject, and you're more than thankful for it, moving past that horribly awkward interaction. "Up for some shots?"
"Always," Julie replies. without hesitation. “One round, and then you can fill me in on what exactly I'm in for. Or what your boytoy has in mind, whichever comes first. Other than that tonguefuck.”
It takes everything not to choke on the mouthful of alcohol at her boldness, the blush spreading deeper. No way she's real.
"My boytoy is buying. Whatever you want is on him," Natty says with the same enthusiasm she always carries, waving down a bartender while her lips explore around your ear, nibbling on your earlobe to deepen the red on your face.
“What happened to free drinks?” you ask, trying not to lose it while Natty makes a show of claiming you.
“Free drinks were over three rounds ago,” Natty says, breath right against your ear. “Don’t you think it’s your turn to treat us, babe?”
"Don't worry, handsome. I won't break you," Julie whispers, fingers roaming your thigh, further sending you into a dizzy anticipation.
In no time flat, there's a colorful collection of shots set in front of you, downed the moment they're set down. The burn has dulled at this point, and by now you welcome it, because you don't think you could survive this night without a little more liquid courage.
"What do you say we get out of here after these?" Natty suggests, that mischievous tone in her voice returning. "Julie's got a fancy hotel suite not too far from here, and it seems like boytoy is already getting a bit restless…”
"Can't imagine why," Julie says with a cute giggle, finishing her shot and slamming it down so hard the table shakes.
"Shall we, then?" They glance at you, expectant with hunger in their eyes, and it’s a moment that makes you feel far too much like prey being stalked, waiting for the right moment to strike. But somehow, you manage to force out a nod while your card gets swiped, leaving you to dwell in the lingering silence.
"Lead the way,” Julie insists, sealing the deal with a wide, gummy smile, leaning in enough so you can smell her perfume, and god, what the hell did you agree to?
Side by side, they’re absolutely mesmerizing —Natty, all luscious curves and those mouthwatering tits, and Julie, sleek and slender, her endless legs stealing the show, not to mention that perfect ass her tight dress doesn't hide one bit.
"Right behind you." Again, you have to wonder, what you’ve gotten yourself into—but there’s no time to think about it staring at these two walking ahead, unable to take your eyes off their deadly figures.
✦ ✦
The elevator ride feels longer than usual, and with both girls pressed tight into either side of you, the thoughts run rampant. Natty crashes her lips onto yours first, tongue dipping inside your mouth, running a hand through your hair. She tastes sweet, the alcohol on her breath lingering before pulling away and nipping at your lip. "Nervous?"
”Maybe a little," you mutter under your breath.
"Don't worry, handsome," Julie says, with this reassuring laugh beside you, casually reaching out to play with a button on your shirt. "We'll take real good care of you."
You're not sure if that helps or makes things worse, but you don't have time to think before Julie pulls you closer and steals a kiss of her own. She's slow, precise—not quite rough like Natty, and a low groan escapes you as her tongue explores, keeping you pulled tight against her until the elevator dings. When she pulls away and glances toward Natty, the pair continue to give that look, one that makes you more nervous than it should when you exit.
"Not a bad kisser," she tells Natty as she guides towards in the direction of her hotel room.
"He's had plenty of practice. Just wait until he eats you out,” Natty says, and once again you’re flustered by how open this girl is about everything. “That mouth will fucking ruin you.”
You feel like your cheeks are going to be permanently red at this rate.
"Mm, I can only imagine everything that mouth can do," Julie says, but it’s hard to even focus on this conversation—impossible to think of much else besides what lies beneath that dress.
Then a beep. An open door. A handful of stumbling steps later, and two sets of heels hit the ground with a thud, followed by your own shoes as you take everything in. The suite is enormous, brightly lit and spacious with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline. Impressive—expensive, no doubt,
Impressive, but expensive—no doubt about it. Likely the best room in the building with an oversized couch and bed big enough to fit three—something you’ll have no trouble taking advantage of.
Now all that's left is to break it in.
Your jacket gets tossed on the nearest chair while the two explore the place barefoot, like they’re both planning out all the different ways this night can go.
All of this feels surreal. Two beauties in one place that you’re about to explore every last inch of, eagerly waiting for you to make a move.
But before you do, Julie heads straight to a corner table overlooking the beautiful night sky—where an ice bucket sits, holding an expensive-looking bottle of champagne, practically an invitation to kick things off. She doesn’t even bother with glasses as she starts opening it.
"This was here when I got here," Julie explains as the cork pops off, drinking straight from the bottle. "No sense in wasting it, right?"
She passes the bottle to Natty, who takes a hearty swig before setting it in front of you. There’s only one option—taking the biggest gulp you can, with an extra one to settle your nerves. It's sweet and fruity as the bubbles slide down your throat.
When you hand it back to Julie, she takes an even bigger drink—but doesn't swallow it. Instead, she turns to Natty, cupping her face as their lips crash together. Their lips stay locked for a moment as Natty’s fingers weave through Julie’s hair, and there's something wildly intoxicating about two beautiful girls making out so closely in front of you.
"Tastes much better like this," Natty says against Julie, and you swear there isn't anything hotter than watching them drink right out of each other's mouths. The kiss deepens, neither one pulling away, and it doesn't seem it will stop anytime soon.
If anything, their session grows more ravenous by the second as you just stand there and watch, taking occasional sips from the bottle.
"Come here," Natty insists with a beckoning finger, and you obey, stepping closer, until you're a fraction of an inch apart from one another. Without hesitation, the three of you come together, all tongues and saliva, tasting the sweet champagne on each other. Back and forth your head turns between the two, leaving you no less overwhelmed. Julie licks at the champagne dripping down your chin before Natty shoves her tongue deep into the crevice of your lips, getting a handful of your crotch for a squeeze.
Julie shifts to your ear, nibbles a little bit as she steals the champagne back. And then Natty lifts the hem of your shirt, peeling it off, discarding it elsewhere as Julie's lips find your chest, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and licks, this deadly gaze glued on you as she does.
"Are you about ready to fuck our brains out yet?" Natty asks with a devilish smile as you get her dress unzipped, the thin material dropping around her feet in an instant—left in her underwear and this lace bra that does very little to contain her massive tits.
"Never been more ready," you reply with more confidence than expected, falling back on the edge of the bed with Natty following, until she's straddling on top and kissing you again.
Julie slips out of her dress, sliding into the space beside the both of you and palms at your bulge while Natty unhooks her bra. You both watch how her breasts spilling out—as she drops her bra to the side, your hands can't help themselves, cupping her tits, kneading them softly, finding her sensitive nipples and devouring them.
She moans loudly as you slurp, and Julie takes a long swig out of the champagne bottle before pouring it all over Natty's chest, glistening against her bare skin. You lick it off slowly, and her back arches at your touch, nails scraping against the nape of your neck, demanding more.
"You're right—this does taste better," you growl against a wet nipple when you pull off, licking up the valley between her tits, tongue cleaning up the champagne dripping over her chest. "Much better."
"So much better," Natty responds, guiding your mouth back to each of her nipples, so you can suck away whatever remains. While this happens, Julie gets started on her own clothes, removing the black lace and tossing it off to the side. Her tits are just as gorgeous—smaller, paler, but plenty of bounce, with these pretty nipples standing at attention and just waiting to be played with.
"Go on, have a taste," Natty encourages, and you don’t need any further instructions, enjoying every moan that comes out her lips when you switch over to Julie, flicking your tongue around the same way. You suck harder, sloppier, careful not to neglect Natty too badly, sneaking the occasional hand up to knead—but these two make you insatiable, switching back and forth, leaving saliva coating every last inch of flesh and lapping away like you're starved.
"Hungry little thing, aren't you?" Julie teases as your lips graze across her breasts. You're slobbering back and forth between the girls, tugging at Julie's nipple with your teeth as she whimpers at your touch, biting down harder when moving back to Natty.
You've never been so lucky—lips back at forth while groping the other, saliva trickling down your lips, completely lost in this buffet of tits.
"Can you blame him? Especially when you're such a fucking feast," Natty retorts, reaching out to pinch one of Julie's nipples as you take over and get back to devouring the girl in your lap.
"Speak for yourself, pretty girl. Those tits of yours are something else," Julie says, and when you pull away, her hands greedily grope and knead them, as if to emphasize her point. “These big, juicy tits and sensitive little nipples, god, how is he even able to pry himself away from you?"
Natty laughs as Julie continues fondling her chest. "Oh, he’s not. And don’t act like you haven't seen them before."
"It's been a while," she says as you watch her devour those pretty, swollen nipples, devouring them with this insatiable appetite while Natty throws her head back, moaning loudly. "And we weren't sharing a boytoy then."
Natty sighs softly, obviously enjoying herself, a wry smile crossing her lips. "Speaking of which—poor thing must be fucking throbbing right now. Those pants must be awfully uncomfortable."
"Then we should probably get them off," Julie suggests, as she lowers herself from the bed, unbuckling your belt when Natty scoots to give her enough space. Your zipper goes down slowly, pants removed with ease and forgotten in seconds flat, left behind with a straining erection poking through your underwear. "Wanna get more comfortable for us, handsome?"
You nod, scooting further back towards the pillows, giving plenty of room for them to join. Before climbing up, Julie discards her own panties, and slides Natty out of hers, this slow crawl from the bottom up the length of the bed that drives you fucking crazy with anticipation.
And then you've got a perfectly naked girl on each side—all sinful curves and flawless skin and this deadly glint in both their eyes.
They don't waste any time in having you match their state of undress, two sets of slender fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers, sliding them down your legs to reveal your swollen cock—both salivating at the sight, so hard and stiff, aching for attention.
"Knew this wouldn't be a disappointment,” Julie smiles, hand wrapping around your dick, giving a few exploratory pumps. She doesn't even bother hiding the way she admires your cock, hand twisting a little, thumb teasing your leaking slit. "The way Natty talks about you, I assumed she might be exaggerating. Glad I was wrong."
"Hope he meets your expectations.” There’s a devious tone to Natty’s voice as their lips press against the head of your cock simultaneously, planting this messy trail of kisses and lipstick down your shaft that's overwhelming as can be.
"Trust me. More than," Julie returns, lips pressed so deep into the side of your shaft before moving up to the head. Natty joins, dueling tongues teasing the underside of your tip, kissing in between each of these messy swirls that leave you throbbing for more.
It’s already too much—two eager tongues tracing over your aching length, pushing you closer to desperation.
A breathless gasp escapes as soft lips glide along either side of your cock, moving in sync, and fuck, you have no idea how to survive it. There’s no urgency, no rush—just slow, deliberate licks, mapping out every inch of you. Natty’s tongue drags down to your balls, so wet, so hungry, Julie following right after, mirroring her every move. They meet again near the tip, exchanging heated kisses along your cock, their frantic licks working you into a frenzy.
"Does that feel good?" Natty purrs, dipping back down to tease your heavy balls, lapping at each one while Julie pays close attention to your leaking cockhead. "You've gone quiet on us."
"Y-yeah," you stutter, still trying to catch a steady breath, failing miserably with their tongues working you over so carefully. It's pure bliss, the feeling of them both licking the same sensitive areas, knowing exactly what to do to wring the most pleasure out of you. "Just, god, yeah. T-too good."
"Good, that’s what I like to hear," Natty says, and pulls Julie in to kiss her, trapping your cock between their lips, driving you further to the breaking point.
And it’s Julie who’s so close you can feel her hot breath radiating across your needy cock. The two swap a few more long, messy kisses, letting your shaft slide between their tongues, and then go straight back to licking, alternating between your shaft, back down to your balls, and god, watching their lips drag along your length has you ready to burst already.
"So fucking hard—“ Julie says, this constant need to tease really doing you in.
It’s hard to even form any response that isn’t a desperate groan as Natty's nimble fingers remain around the base, delivering these long pumps that match the movements of Julie’s tongue, and the two seem determined to absolutely unravel you.
They’ll do that sooner, rather than later, it turns out.
Their soft lips make a wet mess around you, drooling and slobbering their way across every inch, taking turns teasing around and across the tip while they stroke, moving as a single unit, and with a great degree of attention, so content with the noises you’re making.
Natty goes in a different direction and places the head right between her lips, letting you drown in anticipation. The moment they close around, a guttural groan escapes your throat, and her intentions are clear—her warm, wet mouth wants to devour you all. So she inches forward, eyes never breaking contact and starts bobbing, mouth swallowing your shaft. Meanwhile, Julie watches in delight, playing with your balls, cupping their weight before lowering her mouth, suckling, tongue working over the heavy sack and licking with expert precision.
"Jesus, fuck," you mumble, with these tight fistfuls of sheets while Natty picks up the pace, a steady rhythm picking up when she descends, bringing you further, deeper inside the slick cavern of her throat. Not long after she reaches the base, burying you to the hilt—her nose flush against the tensed muscles of your abdomen. And it feels better than it ever has.
"Can't believe you managed all that," Julie murmurs as Natty brings her head back up, your cock escaping with a wet pop.
“It was nothing. Lots of practice."
Natty hardly needs to catch a breath, bobbing effortlessly a few more times and your shaft vanishes into her throat each time, nose buried deep and she doesn't stop—not while Julie watches wide-eyed and amazed, keeping her lips pressed to Natty's whenever she comes up for air.
Now it's both of them jerking you off at once, this messy mix of tongues in mouths while they pump and squeeze, never a moment where your cock isn't getting stimulation.
"Let me try," Julie insists, giving another lick down towards your balls as the rhythm of strokes starts to slow down. Her parted lips, coated and shiny, hover over your swollen cockhead, swallowing inch by inch, a little slower than Natty.
It's clear she's just as talented, if not more—and from this perfect wet heat of her mouth alone, you're already dizzy from pleasure. Like Natty, she's deepthroating you with ease, not even stopping for air—no signs of any struggle at all as her head bobs up and down.
"Fucking hell," you moan as Julie releases, saliva dripping from her lips, and the intensity ramps up from the moment she swallows you again, no resistance as you hit the back of her throat, eyes staring into your own.
"Good girl, taking it all," Natty whispers in her ear, moving hair out of the way as she dives back in. "Not many can do that on the first try."
Julie can't hide the pride, flashing a smile. "Oh, you know—the whole porn thing."
There's a brief look your way, that dangerous glance that has your heart racing before Julie swallows you whole on repeat, throat contracting around every last inch.
"Really thought you'd gag at least once," Natty says, almost disappointed as she watches Julie bob eagerly up and down your throbbing length. There’s only a loud slurp in response, a thick coating of saliva forming the longer it goes. You’re in absolute heaven when your cock slides so effortlessly down her hungry throat, smothered in warmth as you resist the urge to hold her head down.
"What can I say? I'm a professional."
Then once again it's Natty's turn, this dizzying exchange between the two women, taking turns consuming your aching cock, both eager to impress. One's sucking you hard while the other slobbers away on your balls, a little back and forth that's downright heaven. They move in tandem, these obscene noises, mouths slurping, lips smacking—drowning your cock with spit and there's nothing quite like watching them share in this messy exchange of lust.
"These delicious balls, god, so full, wanna make them empty," Julie moans as they slip from her mouth with a lewd pop. Natty gives your cock the attention you need, swallowing inch after inch, and you have no idea how much more you can take of this. She speeds up on instinct, cheeks hollowing as she bobs faster, bringing you closer and closer to that release. It's such an unreal sight, watching her suck you off like this—those tight, wet lips around your cock, so messy and greedy, while Julie doesn't disappoint either, playing with your balls so attentively.
"I think you're almost there," Natty states, not so subtly staring as everything she does makes you groan, dick pulsating when she bottoms out on you. "Mm, god, you’re throbbing so much—must be real close. Two pretty girls on your cock like this for the first time, of course it's too much, right?”
She's not wrong—watching them work together has you desperate, squeezing the sheets tight as they start doubling their efforts. Everything builds at an insane rate, and you can barely breathe, especially with how messy their ravenous mouths get.
"Fuck, feels so—" you moan, and can't manage another word, the loud slurps of those eager lips getting the better of you. And they both get even more comfortable, going for the kill and maneuvering flat on their stomach, feet sticking out into the air and mouths moving frantically.
"Let's make him cum," Natty orders, and they shower your shaft with wet, lust-driven kisses, tongues dancing all over your needy cockhead. Julie slips her lips around your tip, flicking and sucking away until it pops free and Natty resumes where she left off—over and over, passing it back and forth while their lips stay latched on, licking your shaft or suckling those heavy balls as they alternate.
Back and forth they compete over whose mouth can bring you to the edge the fastest—and fuck, you can't resist anymore, that throb, that rush coming forth, nothing more you can possibly do when both of their tongues flick so desperately against your swollen head, so persistent, so aggressive—
"Shit—f-fuck, oh my god," you gasp, clutching desperately into the sheets below, struggling to keep composure.
It happens all at once, just as their tongues slide and overlap—the first burst comes spilling out right into Julie's open mouth, spurting creamy white against her awaiting lips without warning. And yet, despite the volume—perhaps, because of it, both her and Natty manage to share in the release, every single drop landing right where intended.
The deluge of thick spurts continue to flow out, each one heavy and thick, accompanied by your desperate groans, and their mouths stay right at the tip, tongues lapping across to contain your explosive release, a creamy white painting their satisfied smiles.
It’s seemingly endless, and it lingers on by the look they give you, a hand cupping your balls to keep you from finishing too quickly. Their lips slurp and lick up your cum as the thick spurts slow into a steady dribble, and only when they're satisfied you're properly drained does Natty lean in closer, her fair share pooled in her mouth, not intent on swallowing just yet. She grabs Julie’s face and pulls her into a fiery, passionate kiss, moaning into each other's mouths as the hot load passes from one set of lips into another, dribbling off their chins, and you've never seen anything so filthy, so messy—a perfect blend of cum and saliva mixing between the two.
"Tastes so fucking good," Julie finally says, inching away to catch her breath. "Who needs champagne when I can have this delicious load?"
"Better than any champagne," Natty replies, and wipes her lips with a grin as their lips clash again and fuck, you could watch the two of them kiss for hours, savoring the delectable aftertaste.
"So—how much more do you think your boytoy can handle?" Julie asks, looking over at you, with this loose grip on your cock that's still twitching even after that. "Still hard as fuck."
"Oh, he can go," Natty says with confidence. "Think he's ready for at least a few rounds with the two of us. Aren't you, babe?"
"D-don't you worry about me," you answer, still out of breath, glancing up at both of them with the same insatiable hunger in their eyes. "I can go all night if need be."
"Is that so?" Julie laughs, amused. "I'll hold you to it, then. Not that it would be hard to believe when you've got a thick, gorgeous cock like this."
"With you two—no doubt I can last as long as you'd like."
"That's what I like to hear, handsome," Julie replies, and she kisses the head of your cock, which makes you jerk instantly, sensitive still, though that doesn't stop her from doing it again. "Now, Natty—which one of us gets him shoved in us first?"
"That big thing ruins my insides on a daily basis—think it's only fair you get it first."
"How generous of you. What do you think, boytoy? Think you can handle me riding you?" Julie purrs, fingers teasingly stroking the length of your shaft, the tiniest contact of pressure making you twitch.
“Only one way to find out."
"Alright then. Gonna ride the fuck outta you, handsome," Julie says, straddling your waist as Natty moves aside, easing herself on top until she's right above your cock. Lining you up perfectly against her already wet entrance, those pussy lips glisten as she drags your cockhead through the wet folds of her slit. And she doesn't even hesitate, letting it all fill her as she sinks down, allowing every inch inside. "Ah, god, so fucking big—your cock is gonna tear me apart."
Once she's got you buried and right down to the hilt, Julie digs her nails into your chest, lifting her hips slightly and gyrating them as they lower, your dick disappearing slowly inside her. And fuck, she's so tight, so warm inside, her pussy so slick, coated heavily over the entirety of your shaft. There's so much to take in, and for a moment she pauses, needing to adjust, eyes screwed shut.
"Holy shit—how do you survive getting fucked by this every day?" Julie gasps, throwing her head back as her walls constrict around your throbbing shaft, this hungry, almost desperate clench that only intensifies as the time passes.
"You get used to it," Natty laughs, admiring the sight before her. Julie, this gorgeous woman you've known all of an hour ago, in all her beauty—naked, sitting on your cock, stretching her all the way open. "That dick in you looks so good from here."
"Feels even better, pretty girl," Julie says, and exhales, starting a slow, steady pace to warm things up. She pauses upwards, stopping at the tip before repeating her movement. Now, a little quicker, your cock slides effortlessly from the amount of dripping wet arousal, and her thighs shake the first few times, body still adjusting.
She throws her head back with a sigh, savoring every inch, the messy wetness enveloping your shaft, and fucking hell, that grip, the heat is just insane—
Julie is all smiles as she rides, wet and wonderfully tight and clinging around your throbbing shaft, clenching so hard that you can't even process it. She sinks down with precision, her gorgeous cunt taking everything you have as she rolls those hips, letting it all fill her.
And with your head back in the pillows, the rush of everything comes full circle, with this mesmerizing view you have, at Julie in her naked glory, an image you’ll never stop staring at. Each drop of her hips causes her breasts to bounce, although less heft than Natty, yet still, irresistible to gawk at. And those eyes, focused so intently, never faltering, full of desire—focused entirely on you and the noises that come from your lips.
"How's that feel, boytoy?" Julie asks, moving those hips, head thrown back when she slams her full weight down. "Pretty tight, huh?"
"Fucking amazing," you answer, voice ragged, heavy panting with every movement. "Can’t believe how good it feels to be inside you."
"Not every day you get to fuck a porn star," Julie teases, impaling herself deeper, picking up momentum and biting her bottom lip when your cock hits the right spot. "This pussy usually gets stretched by Nat's huge toys—feels good having something real in me."
"Something that can cum in you?" Natty suggests, as your hands run across Julie’s toned stomach, up the curve of her waist, settling there as she fucks you, riding the entirety of your cock with every deep, full stroke.
"Yeah, that too," Julie adds, moving faster, only gasping when it hits the deepest, so deep that she just has to pause and savor the stretch.
"Hope it's everything you dreamed of, handsome," Julie says, hands playing around with your bare chest as she rides faster, bouncing steadily on your cock, the harsh collision of skin becoming louder, frantic. "Because it's so good for me, fuck—Nat, why have you been keeping him from me? "
"Because I knew you'd want him, Jules," Natty says with a laugh, watching her body, her tits, her face all distorted from the pleasure. "Didn't want you stealing my toy, did I?"
“Fair point. Because fuck, he's huge," she gasps, going faster, rocking her hips with more power and you can barely handle it. Your hands continue to grope around her fit, small frame—this quick shift, grabbing her ass when she comes crashing down.
"God—look at how good she's taking your cock," Natty chimes in, now right behind Julie, breasts pressed into her back, running her tongue down the curve of her neck. She starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on those exposed shoulders, leaving behind trails of wet saliva as one hand teases across her perky breasts. "Just made for this, aren’t you? Perfect little slut."
"O-oh, fuck, Nat," Julie moans, falling into Natty's waiting embrace, and letting her fingers play where they please.
"Give him a good view of what he’s been dying to bury his cock in all night,” Natty demands, her hands sliding down to grab and squeeze those soft, perfect cheeks before landing a few sharp, stinging slaps. "Let boytoy see exactly what he’s gonna ruin tonight—"
There's a few moments of adjusting as the heat disappears from your cock—a sudden repositioning with Julie's legs still spread wide, but her back now to you, delicious ass waiting right there in the air. That's where your hands instinctively land, to get a nice, firm squeeze, taking in the full view of her exposed cunt. She's so drenched, dripping down the thickness of your cock—those pretty, pink lips swollen as that full ass of hers sticks higher into the air, demanding you back inside.
In an instant, Julie takes what she wants, sitting straight down onto your length that throbs with need. She gives no pause for reprieve or adjustment, with her head thrown back and immediately takes the entire thing, pussy devouring you right then and there. Her weight sinks all the way down, the grip tight and your fingertips dig into the softness of her ass as your dick splits her wide open.
"Fuck—boytoy, you feel so good," she cries out, rolling her hips at the perfect angle, hands now reaching back, desperately finding your thighs for support.
"Come on, nice and deep," Natty says, now face-to-face with Julie as she watches the show before her, mouth agape and this clear jealousy that she isn't the center of attention. "Don't be gentle with him. He can handle it."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Julie says, and gasps when Natty starts pulling roughly at her hardened nipples, groping her breasts and encouraging her movements, as she doubles down with the force of her hips. Every part of her trembles the faster she fucks herself on your cock, this slick tightness of her pussy drowning every last inch when she takes you to the hilt.
There's an undeniable hunger with the way Julie looks back at you, ass slamming against you as her back arches for more—giving you this sinful view of how the slick warmth of her cunt clings tight, suffocating you in the best way possible. Everything from the way her hips grind with a subtle shift in position, hitting a new spot when slamming herself down on your cock, never giving the chance to miss it when she pulls away.
“Fuck, this feels incredible—can’t get enough,” you groan, the words tumbling out as the pleasure overwhelms you, your grip on her ass tightening, fingers sinking deeper as your mouth falls open at the way she moves her hips with ease, every thrust driving you wild.
"Hear him, Jules? That's what your tight pussy does to him," Natty tells her, focused on the blissful expression that stays etched on her features. “Fuck yourself like that, ride him, get that dick balls fucking deep inside that pretty cunt of yours.”
Natty couldn’t be any happier watching how her best friend sinks down on your cock, fingers tugging on her swollen buds without mercy. Julie's a whimpering mess now, hips almost on automatic, slamming down repeatedly with reckless abandon. It's a desperate rhythm, no longer just wanting your cock, but craving the release, desperate for that sweet, blissful climax that follows."
"How's he feeling in you, baby? Every fucking inch making you drip all over him? Having that fucking huge cock in your pretty little cunt—he must love watching it disappear inside of you.”
The lewder the encouragement, the more urgent her riding becomes, taking every bit of you as Julie crashes her hips down without relent. And you just let her do her thing, this seductive, irresistible woman, using your body, fucking you in ways you've never felt, tight and clinging and so goddamn wet when she bounces her perfect ass on you.
"Natty—god, fuck, he's gonna make me cum," Julie stammers, all breathless, sweat forming along her naked body. Her nails dig in your thighs, her relentless movements consuming you, never giving a moment to catch your breath. "So good, shit, shit, holy shit—"
And Natty's right there with her, fingers slipping lower to find Julie’s clit, teasing and circling the sensitive nub with relentless precision. Despite the tremble in her thighs, they work in unison, getting the most of you.
The slick sounds of her arousal fill the room—getting wetter the more she rides, juices running down the entire length of your shaft. "That’s it, gorgeous, let go, cream all over him. Show boytoy how good that cock feels. Ruin these fucking sheets.”
The bed squeaks and groans beneath you, loud and unapologetic with every filthy slam of your bodies. You do your part, driving Julie closer to the edge—your hand coming down hard on her ass, the sharp smack echoing as it ripples, fingertips sinking into the fullness of her round cheeks. She lets out a strangled moan as her cunt begs for more, hips slamming down like there’s no sense of control left. “Oh fuck, I can’t, gonna—”
You grip her body tighter, fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements as she rides that dizzying line between pleasure and climax. Julie can't even speak coherent thoughts, not anymore, a mess of sweat, frantic moans and loud gasps when your palm strikes across each cheek, one after another, leaving a lingering redness each time.
That’s all it takes.
When it hits, it hits hard. Her cunt convulses, wet heat clenching around every last inch, and it's just messy the minute she cums, thighs shaking, toes curling, juices gushing all over your shaft. She's falling apart so quickly, head lulled back in sheer ecstasy, lips parted and the most obscene noises coming out. Nothing left but whimpers and desperate cries as she clings onto your body while riding this out, drenching your cock, the sheets—everywhere.
Natty doesn't let the sensations subside, though, not a chance. Instead, she continues—rubbing in a fast and careless motion, unyielding, hearing those breaths get shorter while her fingers get coated with Julie. "Another one. Come on, give yourself another one, Jules. Keep going. Look at me, keep that cock in you—that's it, one more for me."
A second surge of bliss crashes over Julie with startling ease, leaving her trembling and consumed by it all. The remnants of her first climax don’t even have time to fade before Natty draws her into another, her body surrendering completely as her cries fill the air and her eyes roll back.
Julie’s voice trembles as she buries her face in the crook of Natty’s neck, her words spilling out a slurred mess. “Nat, p-please… I haven’t gotten off like that in ages.” Her body gives out, melting forward as her breaths come out in spurts, chasing a full one she can’t quite catch.
“Happy to oblige.“ Natty smirks, brushing her lips against Julie’s one last time before pulling back. “Alright, gorgeous—don’t get too greedy. Let me have some fun now.”
Once Julie regains her senses, she complies with ease, pulling off your cock that’s coated with her unrelenting wetness.
She’s only able to collapse in the sheets beside you, face flushed red, equal parts satisfied and tired, breathing so heavily as her fingers trail across the muscles of your arm. "Goddamn. Should've gotten that on camera."
"Maybe next time.” Natty isn’t hesitant as she takes over where Julie left off—throwing herself right back on your lap, thighs wrapped around either side of your hips. She glances over for a moment, before moving her lips to kiss yours, and this is no ordinary liplock—a rough, desperate exchange of tongues, saliva swapped and moans muffled between her mouth and your own.
"I need this cock to split me the fuck open," Natty says, all demand in her voice as the head of your cock drags against her greedy folds. You're already feeling the intoxicating warmth, the impossible wetness that mirrors Julie, somehow, if such a thing were possible.
She gives you a moment to savor the full view—her slender waist that you could hold on forever, toned and tight, a matching canvas to those incredible tits that you've splattered white so many times. And from below, darting your gaze down to that slick, perfect little pussy—so eager and hungry as she hovers, takes hold and lines your shaft up, then pauses for a quick breath.
"What are you waiting for then?" Julie chimes in, perched on her side, back to life for a brief moment, just as eager and excited for the show to continue. "He's not gonna fuck himself."
"Hush," Natty fires back, and that's enough as she spreads her legs wider, guiding your throbbing cock where it belongs. One final glance before she sinks down in one fluid motion, stretching out those wet pussy lips so they can swallow every single inch like it's nothing.
All so routine for her, easing her way back up before repeating, hips lifting as her pussy squeezes every bit of your cock, a long sigh escaping her lips when your shaft fills her to the hilt.
"God, baby—that’s so fucking good," Natty groans, when she has you down, stuffed all the way inside. When her walls fully engulf your shaft, stretching wide and nothing's been more inviting, nothing more delicious as that warmth swallows you all up. She doesn’t even try to move—and that’s just as much for your benefit as it is hers as she stays still, holding you hostage, indulging in the sensation of being entirely filled.
"Look at that pretty pussy drooling everywhere," Julie says, still not able to get a proper breath in as she watches in awe. Despite being the same girl who takes a pounding for a living, somehow, she’s mesmerized by how your cock disappears into her greedy little cunt.
It's a quick pace from the first bounce, a fevered cadence that’s hard to handle. There’s this insatiable desire that compels Natty when she rides your cock, working every inch inside her until there’s nothing left to fill. When she rises, it’s with a gasp: a trail of slick that drives her hips, greedy for more. The bed continues to protest, but she silences it with another powerful plunge, headboard slamming up against the hotel suite wall.
And if that wasn’t enough to deal with, those tits—it doesn't take Natty long to notice the way your gaze lands, exactly as intended, those perfect fucking tits of hers bouncing with each inch she claims.
“Boytoy really is lucky. Getting these huge fucking tits shoved in his face whenever he likes. Wonder how many times she’s made you burst all over them?”
“Too many times to count,” Natty replies, pace never faltering. “Love seeing that look on his face when he explodes all over my chest. Don’t think he’ll ever get enough.”
“How could anyone?” The question hangs in the air unanswered, as Natty’s rhythm becomes a challenge—a relentless slap of skin on skin that dares you to last.
"Bet she's so fucking tight. Natty’s cunt feels like heaven, doesn't it?"
You answer with a groan, because that’s all you have in you. But that only fuels Natty—her pace turns relentless, those tits bouncing, heavy and hypnotic, and you wouldn’t dare miss a moment while she impales herself to the hilt.
“Not sure what I want more—boytoy’s cock in me again, or those pretty tits in my mouth,” Julie says, tongue tracing your earlobe and giving a gentle nip, making your cock twitch even more. “Maybe both at the same time?”
"Greedy little thing," Natty teases, her giggles a momentary distraction while she leans forward, giving the perfect angle so her tits bounce even more.
“Learned it all from you, pretty girl.” You're left unable to form any response as Natty keeps devouring your shaft with every bounce, all while Julie plants kisses down your bare chest, her tongue finding a nipple to tease as you revel in the pleasure.
"Oh, would you look at that? Boytoy likes it when I do this," Julie says, tongue drawing circles, flicking a few times before those lips wrap and suck, the sensitivity growing. And you're lost in the way this wet cunt squeezes tightly, the way Julie's lips tug, kissing a bit before picking back up. “Someone is a little sensitive, isn’t he? Or maybe that pussy feels a little too good."
"Both," Natty answers with a grin, sweat now abundant down her skin, glistening from her cleavage down her tight stomach, and those powerful thighs that keep bouncing, keep that slick heat working every bit of your throbbing shaft.
It’s almost impossible to just sit back and enjoy the way her perfect cunt clenches around your cock—so greedy, so demanding you stay inside her, holding you captive with each bounce.
Natty leans in with that wicked little smirk, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her tits bounce, practically begging for attention, and you don’t dare ignore it. You grab them without hesitation, heavy and soft in your fingertips, and dig your fingers in, groping hard enough to pull a moan from her lips.
"Mm, fuck yes. Play with those fucking tits, just like that,” Natty groans out, a sharp gasp as you get even greedier. Now she’s the one sensitive as you cup her tits, teasing her nipples between harsh squeezes. You can’t help but indulge in this feast, pushing her tits together so you can watch the jiggle before dragging your tongue between that delicious valley. Her hips fall into an uncontrolled, frantic pace while you bury your face into her chest, tongue swirling a sensitive nipple before pulling it between your teeth—not at all shy when you nibble, lips closing around and sucking with a lewd slurp.
"Shit, that's it—don’t stop," she encourages, fingers threading through your hair to pull your mouth deeper. And that's all too easy to oblige, latching back and forth onto each slippery nipple like you're starved, sealing your mouth tight and sucking hard while groping the other, not leaving either without attention for too long.
Each flick of your tongue, each greedy suck makes her clench harder, her moans dissolving into needy whimpers. Julie just watches with amusement, with fingers lazily between her legs as you worship Natty's chest, devouring her as they bounce right in your face, a constant flow of saliva connecting your lips to those swollen nipples.
"God, look at him go—so hungry for Nat’s perfect fucking tits. Your cock must be ready to explode, must feel so fucking good in that slutty little cunt."
She’s never been more right, because you’re barely hanging on.
You groan through another suck, lips fixated on the heavenly weight of Natty’s tits, tongue flicking over the hardened nipple like it’s your only purpose. There’s no hope of lasting much longer, not when Natty is just as relentless as your mouth is, hips not faltering for a single bounce. The heat of her cunt, the impossible wetness, this insane grip—there’s no fighting the inevitable.
“Boytoy—need those balls emptied in me right fucking now. Fill my tight cunt, cum inside me—pump that hot fucking load deep inside this pussy, give me everything. Every last fucking drop.”
And what else can you possibly do when she demands something like that, determined to make you blow your load in her in no time?
“Fill her, boytoy. Give her that nice, thick load, can’t wait to watch it drip out of her,” Julie says, all the encouragement you need, lips still attached to the shell of your ear, sucking and licking, blowing hot air. It’s all Natty needs too. She’s cumming hard on your cock, body shuddering, thighs trembling violently while you’ve still got her tits in your mouth, slurping away.
She can barely keep her hips steady, fucking herself through it all, that cunt so impossibly tight. Natty is borderline begging, whining, this high-pitched sob every second your cock hits so deep, until she just breaks down completely—another violent spasm from her pussy. And there's nothing holding you back any longer, because you're right there with her, moments away from making a fucking mess right inside.
"Natty—“
One look and you're emptying yourself into Natty's wet cunt, flooding her with that hot, sticky warmth as your cock just unloads. Her pussy clenches hard, demanding every spurt as it swallows up all your cum, the best relief her body can provide.
A goddamn mess, everywhere—one that paints her insides a hot, creamy white with everything she milks out, greedy for more, not leaving anything left in your aching balls. The constant throbs have no end with you buried to the hilt inside, Natty helping unload it all, groaning with every spurt while you just stare up at her.
Through this intense bliss, Julie watches every second, unable to tear her eyes away. She’s breathing equally heavy as she plays with her clit, fingers rubbing so fast and unable to stop herself from falling right behind.
When it's all said and done, you're a mess of collapsed bodies, sheets slick and limbs tangled together. You can hear Natty struggling to catch her breath, chest heaving, her warm, sweat-slicked body draped against yours while the two of you just ride this out together, clinging onto one another.
"Jesus, can't believe how much fucking cum your balls still have," Natty finally mumbles out, body shaking through every breath, on the edge of collapsing. “Hope that felt as good as fucking a goddamn porn star."
Julie lets out a breathless laugh, fingers teasing your chest. "Don't think anything compares to you and your fucking body, Natty."
“Don’t sell yourself short, pretty girl,” Natty tells her, too weak for anything else. With her remaining energy, she cups your face and gives one more appreciative kiss.
The warmth of your release still lingers between her tired legs, and you can't resist getting a gentle grip on her hips, until she gets the hint to lift up enough—so you can slip all the way out. And there's nothing more satisfying than seeing your release spilling right out of her gorgeous cunt, stretched wide open, an endless stream of thick white flowing out of Natty.
"Goddamn—what a huge mess. Boytoy really pumped all that cum in you. Gotta get me another turn on that, he’s all mine next round.” Julie isn’t asking, but demanding, not that either of you would have a problem with exactly that.
"That's what he's here for, isn't it? I need a shower, so he's all yours," Natty says, standing on wobbly legs.
She looks completely worn out and you can't help but stare at those curves, her wide hips, her body glistening with sweat, your cum dripping down her perfect thighs when she gingerly makes her way towards the bathroom. "Have fun."
"Oh, we definitely will."
With the sound of water running from the bathroom, Julie is on top, kissing down your body—licking the sweat off your chest and tracing your abs with the tip of her tongue. "You better have something left for me, boytoy."
Your arousal has no end in sight, not when Julie is giving you so much attention.
Her lips, full and supple, trail across your stomach, planting soft, lingering kisses, savoring every inch of you. She moves slow and so very methodical, like she's memorizing the way you feel under her mouth. You can’t say you don’t enjoy the tease, these light touches that build ever so slowly.
When she reaches your hips, she pauses—just enough to let the tension rise, and then she dips lower, breath warm, a preview of more to come.
"Hope Natty's tight little cunt didn't milk you completely fucking dry," she says, her gaze shifting between your legs. "Because I need to feel how big a load you can empty into me."
Turns out, you have much more in you.
Not that you expected anything less with Julie’s devilish lips wrapped around your cock. Her hands grip your thighs, taking advantage of Natty’s absence to get you back to full mast, a few languid strokes that gets the blood pumping in all the right places. Then she sinks back down—deeper, nose to your crotch like she’s got something to prove.
And before you know it, you’ve got her all folded in half—legs bent at the knee and obscenely spread wide in the air as she takes every inch of you like her cunt is nothing but a mere toy.
If you’re being honest, it’s a position with her name on it. Nothing more than mindless when you fuck her, really fuck her, so goddamn deep—her body feels completely different from Natty's, but it doesn't matter when you're hammering away at that warm cunt, with this fervent need to explode once again.
With your knees firm on the mattress and Julie’s legs lifted high, you drive into her deeper than ever, her slick heat gripping you tight—yours to take, to ruin. Every thrust buries you to the hilt, your hips slamming into her with the kind of force she craves, the kind she was made for.
She's all sweaty, legs pressed into her chest as you destroy her cunt, these loud whimpers on repeat, so eager to be defiled like her best friend, to be wrecked in this helpless position until you unload again. But there's something so satisfying about Julie begging for this, about watching this beautiful girl, legs folded, letting you hammer into that perfect, wet cunt, so fucking happy to get used.
It's this wild, almost violent rhythm with the way Julie's feet dangle in the air that lasts a lot longer than you both intended, ending only when Natty's done in the bathroom. The sound of a door swinging open doesn't make you slow down either. You're too far gone in that heavenly cunt to even care that Natty's in the room with you again, only just out of the shower, hair still wet as she saunters around the bedroom in only a towel.
"I could fucking hear you two going at it out here," Natty says, amused and jealous. It doesn't stop her from walking to your side of the bed, that towel barely concealing a damn thing as she gets a front row view of you plowing Julie into the mattress.
"She said it was her favorite position. Couldn’t resist," you explain, moments away from bursting deep in Julie's cunt.
"One of the best," Natty replies with a knowing nod, letting her towel drop to the floor as she lies across the bed beside the two of you while you use Julie's cunt as your personal toy.
The sight of Natty without a thing covering her, watching as you fuck Julie, like she's not even fazed by what's going on right before her—is what finally makes your dick explode inside that soaked little cunt, blowing a thick, creamy load as you empty deep, all the way into her womb as Julie moans through every burst.
"There you go. Pump her fucking cunt with all that thick fucking cum," Natty urges, leaning in close to get a better angle as you just fuck it all deep, filling Julie to the brim. "You like that cock in you? Like when he ruins your little cunt and fills you?”
Julie doesn't reply with words, still whimpering, breathless, barely able to keep her eyes open.
And Natty can't help but be the center of attention when Julie's exhausted on your cock—proud of the job you’ve done, how you’ve fucked her best friend to pieces.
"Really ruined her, didn't you? Can't even form a fucking sentence. Takes a lot to make her speechless,“ Natty says with a laugh, fingers squeezing your arm as you have the unenviable task of pulling out. And even then, Julie barely even reacts, still trembling with the aftermath, the mess you've made spilling out of her.
Natty is positioned perfectly to step in now, maneuvering between her legs while she enjoys that warm, sticky release. The taste of you and Julie mixed together creates this delicious cocktail she drinks right out of that wrecked cunt, and that’s when she starts to show signs of life. Legs spread wide as possible, she enjoys how Natty licks her clean, making her squirm as your cum drips off her tongue.
Now it’s your turn to enjoy the show as Natty takes her time eating you out of Julie's cunt—slow and hungrily, these sloppy lewd licks, familiar with every spot. And Julie just lies there, so exhausted from it all, chest heaving, taking all of this—eyes shut in ecstasy as the familiar, wet warmth of Natty's tongue slips through her folds.
"She tastes so fucking good, especially when she's full of cum," Natty says, lifting her head for a moment to flash a grin at you. This messy blend of white and wetness smears along her face, lips glossy from eating out Julie, but she makes no effort to wipe it off, only staring up for a moment as she dives right back in between those legs.
“N-Natty—“ Julie is far too gone with the overstimulation as Natty licks far past cleaning up, lapping at her swollen clit, wringing out all the sensitivity she can.
It’s an experience, for sure, watching the two of them. Natty between those thighs like she’s done this hundreds of times. And before you know it, Julie tenses up—legs quivering as she lets out the loudest moan, and she’s climaxing, hard, all over Natty’s gorgeous face.
“Couldn't fucking help herself," Natty says with an innocent giggle and takes her sweet time cleaning up the gush she’s helped create, dragging her tongue to lap up all the arousal over her thighs. “Messy girl.”
There's not a single bit of shame in her eyes as Natty slaps at her swollen, sensitive clit a few times—making Julie jolt, so overstimulated after having been eaten out like that. Julie can only whimper in response—too weak to even protest, so overwhelmed by Natty's tongue as it circles around her throbbing clit. "Fuck, Nat. You're too much."
Natty just goes back in between her thighs for one more taste before pulling Julie close, letting her gather all of your combined release on her tongue. "Aren't I? I know what you like when you don't have a cock inside you."
Julie weakly nods in agreement, sharing another deep, hungry kiss, fingers running through Natty's messy hair as they devour each other, all tongue and spit.
"You two are way too much to handle,” you murmur out, this throb between your legs rising again when they finally pull away, lust and need written all over their faces.
"Isn't that the point?"
✦ ✦
After everything, there's a much needed shower, sharing hot water with Julie as Natty orders some room service.
Julie's all smiles in the shower, giving you these sweet kisses as the water washes away all the sweat and sex that clings to your bodies. So easy to lose track of how long you're in there, taking your time to get clean, enjoying one another's company without a word muttered. The second you step out of the bathroom, several pizzas sit by the couch where Natty lounges in a bathrobe, already getting started on one.
"Took you guys long enough. Thought you were gonna fuck each other's brains out in there."
“Considered it—but not without you there to watch,” Julie replies, sitting down right by Natty on the couch with a full plate.
“How sweet.”
Discarded clothes still lie scattered about on the floor, and Natty’s the only one dressed in anything more than a towel, just in her bathrobe, most likely put on only so the door could be answered. It's a nice respite from it all—drinking in the quiet with an overindulgence of carbs and melted cheese as you all rest up and recuperate.
You're all sobered up at this point, mind a bit clearer now as you let this comfortable silence linger, knowing what lies soon ahead. Julie is the first one to speak up, chowing down on a slice of pizza, peeling off the cheese with her teeth as her feet rest in Natty's lap. "So handsome—enjoying having two gorgeous girls all to yourself?"
Natty giggles, stealing a pepperoni off Julie's piece, met with nothing but annoyance. "I'm sure you don't have to ask. Boytoy is in heaven, having the time of his life."
You nod, finishing a slice of pizza and grabbing another one. “Could get used to this. Not sure I'll ever be able to leave this room."
"Why would you ever want to?” Julie asks, shifting in her seat, mouth full of food. "I have the suite booked for a few more days. Two hot sluts to pound all weekend, what more do you need?"
"Careful, Jules. Don't wanna scare him away, now."
Julie scoffs, rolling her eyes like that's the biggest concern. "I'd be heartbroken. Boytoy's cock is so fucking good, it'd be a tragedy if we never got to see him again."
You have a hard time believing you could ever get tired of something like this. Quite the opposite, the thought of only experiencing this pleasure with Natty while Julie gets left out—you're not sure you can even entertain it.
"Don’t worry, you'll both get your fill of me. Can't get rid of me now." The second those words leave your lips, the duo are already eyeing each other up—like they both have the same thing on their mind.
"Wouldn’t dream of it,” Julie says, with this devious look on her face like she’s dying for an excuse to get rid of the towel wrapped around her body.
"So, boytoy—can you go again, or do we need to give you a little break?"
As much as you hate to admit it, even after that nice, relaxing shower, you're fucking spent—cock barely functional after all that nonstop use this evening. It's obvious enough too, but Julie's quick to answer. "Give the poor guy a break, Natty—I'm sure he wouldn't mind just watching the two of us go at it.”
"Is that right? You wanna watch us, then?"
“Do I even have to answer that?” And it’s absurd to think you do, but you’re eager to get a glimpse of just how good they look when you're not in the mix. The two of them naked and wet, sweaty and all tangled up as you watch the whole thing go down—it's impossible to pass on that.
"I think we can arrange that," Julie says, lifting her feet out of Natty's lap. She shrugs off her towel, letting it fall to the floor, then watches as Natty unties her bathrobe and lets it slide from her shoulders. Now you’ve got two beautiful, naked women in front of you, ready to have their wicked, filthy way with one another.
"I’ve missed eating your cunt, Nat,” Julie says as she pushes Natty onto the couch, watching her sprawl out underneath her.
"The feeling is mutual, pretty girl.”
You just sit back and get comfortable while they take their time with each other now, lips pressed together in a deep kiss, bodies pressed together in an attempt to feel as much of each other’s heat as possible.
Julie starts to explore, sliding down Natty’s curvy body, kissing at that soft, sensitive skin all the way down to her full breasts. She gives them a gentle squeeze, enjoying how they feel in her palm as she slips a taut nipple into her mouth—sucking with purpose, teasing that hard little bud until Natty's moaning for more.
They've done this all before, you can sense it, the two of them so eager and comfortable, needing this more than anything.
Julie knows this girl’s body more than her own. The way she kisses her, touches her—it’s clear this isn’t new. Her hands move with confidence, tracing every sinful curve like she’s done it a hundred times before. She isn’t exploring; she’s revisiting. She knows exactly where to lick and nibble, sucking at the places where the gasps sound the sweetest.
There's no rush at all, and yet Julie moves down the length of Natty's body at an alarming pace, as if she can't contain herself, so desperate to get in between her thighs. She pauses only a moment, pressing kisses along Natty's bare midriff before lowering herself, flat on her stomach, head positioned right where it matters. “So pretty.”
It’s this quick tease when Natty spreads her legs as far as possible to let her right in, and Julie kisses the inside of those thick, gorgeous thighs that you’ve had the pleasure of squeezing your head enough times to lose count.
And Natty's not so subtly guiding her closer to her aching cunt, moaning as Julie goes right to work. They've done it so many times before that there's no need for direction—Julie so completely aware of exactly how to please her with that fucking mouth, a bit of everything as her tongue glides along those soaked, sensitive lips.
Almost zero effort to suppress anything that comes out of Natty’s mouth, she can’t help herself and Julie encourages it by licking her needy cunt so wantonly, holding back nothing. There's something beautiful about watching them go at it, this need Julie has to show off how good with her mouth she is, craving the pride more than Natty.
Julie licks so slow and methodical, tongue flat against her wet slit, pressing down and tasting all that delicious wetness, flicking through it to gather up her juices. There's no such thing as restraint here, only an urge to taste as much of Natty as possible. And it's obvious Julie loves every single moment—the taste and sound and the sight of Natty squirming underneath her tongue, this rare moment where she's the dominant one.
"Fuck—right there, right there, oh shit," Natty pleads so shamelessly, like a completely different person, not even caring how wrecked her voice comes out. She's lost all sense of composure in this moment of pure pleasure, a hand on the back of Julie's head keeping her firmly in place where her pussy needs her the most.
You couldn’t be happier with this perfect view to watch everything, Natty all spread out as Julie devours her, lapping up everything, tongue slipping in and out so effortlessly. There’s this ache underneath your towel that you could no doubt easily relieve, slip inside Julie and pound away while she’s working her magic, but there’s something more satisfying about just watching, experiencing this moment without moving a muscle.
“Oh god—fuck, Jules,” Natty moans, voice trembling as much as her thighs. “You’re so good at that, that tongue, shit—don’t stop.” Her fingers tangle in Julie’s hair, thighs clamping down around her head as well, gasping loud with every lick.
“Almost like I get paid to get people off,” Julie says with a smirk and slurps on her clit, happy to make Natty fall apart so easily.
It's hot and sloppy and messy, so lewd the noises coming from them both, as Julie pulls away for only a moment, a thick string of wetness hanging from her chin before she dives back in. "Hard to help myself when you’re this fucking delicious, Nat."
All this sweltering heat fills the room with everything that unfolds inches away, and you’re definitely not above a few strokes through your towel now, trying to ease a little bit of tension for yourself. Nothing could keep your eyes from this scene, enjoying every second, Julie sliding her fingers in and curling them so deep while her tongue continues to assault her swollen clit, pulling more moans out of her.
The way Natty’s thighs keep Julie right where she needs her, grinding her messy cunt against her face, you’ve never seen her so desperate. These frantic licks have no plans of stopping, keeping pace, and it doesn’t take much more for the pleasure to overwhelm her, letting out all these breathy, broken moans, lips parted when Julie takes her over the edge.
Fingers digging into Julie’s scalp, the moment Natty hits that peak is fucking gorgeous, a look of sheer pleasure on her contorted face, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as she screams in bliss. Her messy thighs quiver around Julie's head, and there’s no end in sight, gasping for air as she keeps lapping at juices that spill out unabated, slurping up all that wetness and you're happy to sit back and enjoy the show.
It's almost unbelievable how often Natty has gotten off today, but this is like something else entirely. A delicious high that lasts a lot longer, body in shambles, barely able to contain herself, shuddering so intensely, one spasm right after another.
"Shit, Jules—I need a minute. W-wait, fuck, I need a fucking minute," Natty says, all desperate in tone when she comes down. Yet Julie doesn’t seem exactly interested in that at all, kissing at her sensitive thighs with purpose, finding her clit again with her tongue for a few more indulgent licks.
"Not a chance, pretty girl," Julie laughs, relentless in her words, middle finger running through her slick folds.
"Jules, please, I wasn't kidding. I'm so, fuck—sensitive, oh f-fuck," Natty can only murmur with a pitiful little whine, clutching the couch cushions and looking over at you for help.
"No, don't even try to look at boytoy like that. I'm not done with you," Julie replies. Her mouth seals tight right around her clit, sucking at it until Natty yelps in agony, unable to form proper words as she so desperately tries. It's a delicious torment, but that mouth doesn't linger there for long, pulling away.
And then she looks to see Natty looking so pathetic, face flushed with eyes almost teary, positioning herself in just the right way. Julie grabs a leg to interlock their bodies how she pleases, throwing it over her shoulder and rubbing her cunt along Natty's, not hesitating to go at a vigorous pace.
This newfound friction makes Natty lose it, still so sensitive from before, not even able to react beyond these intense shudders and frantic whimpers. It's this perfect symphony as Julie grinds her pussy right along Natty's slickness, arousal smearing and sticking to each other, messy flesh kissing with Julie leading the charge.
"Too much, gorgeous? Yet you're not even asking me to stop," Julie chuckles, grinding without the slightest remorse, getting herself off without any real concern for Natty. All those messy fluids flow together so nicely, Julie's glistening cunt rubbing all along Natty's, pulling out every last whimper and whine that she can manage. “You’re so wet, just like me. This poor couch is going to be ruined.”
Natty only has the strength to try and match Julie's pace, because her pride would never let her back down.
Her clit is absolutely tormented by all the action—every time it rubs up against Julie's own little swollen bud is far too much, but she can hardly pull herself away. Because she's determined, hips moving of their own volition, sliding forward and rubbing right back with the same vigor, refusing to let Julie have all the satisfaction.
And now you definitely need to give yourself some relief, letting that towel fall and revealing just how hard you are, stroking away as you watch this pornographic display right before you, these two grinding on each other, intoxicated by desire.
"Your cunt feels so good, Nat. Almost as good as boytoy's big fucking dick," Julie says, moaning so shamelessly through the messy friction as her juices mingle with Natty's. They're fucking each other like you're not even here, writhing around without restraint, only focused on sharing an orgasm together and using each other for that ultimate result.
There's nothing for Natty to add, ignoring Julie and focusing her attention on their heated grind, the sensitivity having faded a little, now able to put her all into this. You love to watch as the tension builds between the two of them, working towards release, that heavenly image of sensitive flesh rubbing together, all the arousal smeared everywhere.
Julie doesn't relent in the slightest, merciless with how her pussy just rides against Natty's, moans mixing together with the slick sound of wetness. Natty can only groan and grind right back, struggling not to break first, the pleasure fading from torture to divine delight, enjoying how Julie’s heat feels up against her.
"Jules—oh f-fuck, feels so good, god—“
You have no idea who hits the breaking point first, but all the grinding leads to one thing, gasping out at the exact same moment with simultaneous bliss. Neither girl can hold back an expression that mirrors the other, nor a mixture of arousal that gushes right out on the couch below and leaves a sticky mess all over one another.
This intense shared orgasm hits hard for Natty in particular, who hasn't had a chance to fully come down from the previous one. Her clit feels even more sensitive now, whole body practically convulsing against Julie's soaked, hot flesh. There's no end to their noises, breathlessly grinding to an end, Natty left the worst of the two, absolutely trembling, gasping to ride it out. Julie's just grinning through it, watching her quiver, content that she's the one left looking so composed and collected.
It's only when they come down together, looking spent and tired and so gorgeous with their naked bodies glistening with sweat and juices, trying to catch their breath, that Julie gives Natty a short peck on the lips. It's nice and relaxed, a sweet gesture—like they've actually forgotten they have an audience until Julie pulls back and spots you sitting there in a stupor, your hand having slowed down a while back.
"Have fun watching us, handsome? Hope you got something out of it."
“Y-yeah, think I’m good to go now. Fuck, that was just—“
“Hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Natty says, with this weak tremble in her voice, pretending she’s not totally wiped after all that.
"I think we riled him all up. Poor thing. Maybe he needs some help, you think?" Julie asks, still a bit out of breath.
It takes no further convincing. Julie's already up and off the couch, grabbing you by the cock to lead you towards the bed, with Natty following in tow. All this attention shifts right on you, Julie behind you and Natty right in front, with hands and lips roaming across your body—
"Break time is over, boytoy. What do you wanna do to us?" Natty asks, as they both work in unison. Julie's on her knees, kissing down the small of your back, hand on your hip while she massages your balls in her free hand. On the opposite side, Natty works her fingers around your shaft, thumb rubbing a little tease along the sensitive underside of the tip.
"F-fuck... everything. I wanna do everything with you two."
"Anything specific? This big fucking dick has something special in mind. Doesn't it?" Natty chimes in, fist pumping around your aching shaft. You share a look between them, their naked bodies, those pretty faces—it's impossible to even think about choosing one.
“Don't even know who to ruin first? Can’t blame you,” Julie says as she rises, lips pressed close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. "How about you start with Nat and finish inside me, handsome?"
"Sounds perfect."
There's a kiss from each of them on your lips, one at a time as they assemble together on the bed with eager anticipation. Julie on her back, Natty on top, breasts squished together, the two of them horizontal and entangled in a heated mess of lips and tongues.
And part of you just wants to watch them go at it again—but your cock has other intentions.
"Hang on, boytoy. You're forgetting something,” Julie starts, and it's a short pause that stops you from joining them on the bed, looking a little puzzled when you glance in their direction. "Lube's in my purse. The black bag on the table."
"Lube? What for?" Natty asks with feigned innocence and a coy little smile, like she doesn't already know why.
"For your ass, obviously."
That's more than enough invitation to rummage around Julie's bag, not even shocked to see what else is stuffed inside—toys, handcuffs, a blindfold, even more fun. Without much trouble, you find what you're looking for, a bottle of clear liquid in the main pocket. And it doesn’t even feel close to full, like it's already seen some use, the curiosity driving you wild as you climb up onto the bed.
Julie's already gotten impatient, playing with Natty's tits in the meantime while she gets right in position, ready and waiting on all fours and points that perfect, round ass right in your direction. And you waste no more time as you watch this lewd display, lubing up your cock like it’s been destined to go here all along. It's just a few strokes and you're already aching to put your dick to use, ready to sink right between Natty's supple cheeks.
The anticipation builds beyond belief as you push a slick finger into her puckered hole—easing it in slowly. But it's clear she's more than ready, and a few gentle pumps is more than enough prep, because this isn't the first time Natty's taken you right here.
Countless times, you’ve gone through this routine, and she's pretty fucking used to it, as evident by the lack of resistance when your finger slips in without any sign of a struggle.
"Mm, need that fucking cock in my ass right now, boytoy. Don't keep a girl waiting."
You wouldn’t dare dream of it. And then you're behind Natty—one hand grabbing a handful of that big ass, while the other guides your throbbing cock forward to that slick opening. You can tell Julie is watching everything so carefully, taking full note of Natty's expression as she waits to be filled.
"Hope you're not planning on being too gentle with her. Wanna see that fat ass stretched out properly. Better fucking ruin her.”
"As if that was ever up for debate," Natty says, that confidence turning into a soft moan when your swollen cockhead disappears between her cheeks, sinking right into her tight little asshole. "Oh fuck, that's so good—“
There's no initial resistance, that ass just consumes the entire head of your cock, swallowing it up in such an instant as you ease inside. No indication of anything but pleasure, either. Natty is a pro with this—knows how to take a dick up her ass like no other, like it's second nature to her. Not a second more wasted as you slide deeper inside this tight, slippery hole, stretching it open that much more.
"Give it to me, boytoy. I can take it—god, that big fucking dick better destroy my asshole."
You're already sinking balls deep into Natty when she says that, both hands gripping at those sinful wide hips—holding onto her tightly as your cock stretches her out inch by inch. It's tight—it's so goddamn tight, with your cock forcing its way deeper into that snug, unyielding hole. The resistance only makes it better, every inch sliding deeper until you're buried to the base, balls flush against her cheeks.
“Jesus, Nat,” you growl, needing a moment to catch your breath. “Your tight ass is fucking made for this. Gripping me like it never wants to let go.”
You don’t hesitate—dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in hard enough to jolt her forward. Her ass ripples from the impact, swallowing your cock whole in one relentless plunge.
Julie watches with a crooked smile. "You'll do anything to get that dick up your ass, won't you?" she asks, amused, already knowing the answer. But you’re barely aware of her voice, your entire focus locked on the way Natty’s ass clenches around your cock like it’s trying to keep you there forever. The way she reacts to every thrust, every brutal slam of your hips, is fucking addictive—tightening, aching for more.
The angle is obscene—every thrust driving deep into her ass, the gape of her puckered hole increasing the faster you pump into her. The sweet noises she makes are just a bonus, encouraging you to drive even harder, those perfect cheeks bouncing off your hips with every thrust.
Julie leans in closer, her breath brushing hot across Natty’s ear. “God, look at you. Getting used like a toy and loving every second.”
"Fuck, Nat—this ass is too fucking good. Needed this for far too long," you groan out, so in disbelief of how tight Natty's asshole feels around you. There's this heavy sigh escaping her lips, and it's hard not to notice the movement below—because she’s riding two fingers while getting her ass plowed, desperate for more pleasure.
"Harder, boytoy," Natty breathes out, glancing back at you with this demanding gaze. "Fuck my ass as hard as you can—I told you to ruin me."
You oblige without another thought, a firm, dominating grip on her hips, making sure there's no escape when you crash hard into her—demonstrating just what you're capable of, showing no mercy. There's this filthy sound on loop, flesh slapping with each deep thrust, and the sight before you is just divine, staring down at her plump ass jiggling away with your cock sunk so deep inside that hole.
“Must feel so good, pounding her ass. Can only imagine how tight she is. I’m a little jealous I’ve only fucked her with a strap.”
“Would have loved to see that,” you say back, throbbing at the idea of Natty getting wrecked by the older girl, moaning just like she is in front of you. The thought adds fuel to the fire as you spank those full cheeks, wanting them redder than you’ve ever seen before with every aggressive pump of your hips, savoring how tight her ass gets whenever you give a good strike.
“Maybe someday you can.”
“Hey—I know you can slap my ass harder than that,” Natty demands over her shoulder, nothing ever enough for her. That’s your cue to indulge, one harsh slap after the next that echoes with your cock hammering away, all while those cheeks turn a brighter shade of red.
She sounds so fucked out as you do what’s asked, rubbing out the sting only to make it return once more. And now there’s this beautiful sheen of sweat forming on Natty’s delicious body as you pound deep, sliding your hands up her bare back before leaning forward to capture a handful of those scrumptious tits.
“Pretty little slut—this ass is mine,” you growl, hands sliding up to cup her bouncing tits from underneath, hungry to feel every ounce of her as you bury your cock impossibly deep.
Your hands roam her chest, palms rough against the softness of her tits as they bounce between deep thrusts. You give them a harsh slap, loving the way they jiggle under your grip. Natty lets out a sharp gasp, back arching deeper, the sound of your hips colliding with her ass turning into a perfect soundtrack you can’t get enough of. And she stays face down on Julie’s warm, naked body, ass high—presenting that tight, puckered hole like a gift.
"Boytoy really loves tearing that asshole apart, doesn't he?” Julie asks, enjoying the view herself of how you roughly handle Natty, groping her tits and slapping them in between. “God, I can't wait to see what that cock does to me.”
"Can't fucking help it—this tight fucking ass feels too goddamn good."
There's nothing more from Natty, not when she can hardly string thoughts into words, letting out nothing but sinful, depraved moans. It’s impossible to focus on anything but that hungry little asshole, and those pillowy cheeks that give this unforgettable view, your cock sinking between them like it belongs there.
“He’s really fucking you, Nat. His thick cock must be tearing your poor asshole apart, can't even imagine. Boytoy looks way too eager to blow that load into you."
She’s not wrong, god she isn’t, because the sight before you is nothing short of hypnotic—the way your dick slides between Natty's plump cheeks, plowing deep into her stretched asshole, there’s never been anything better.
"Y-yes, need you to cum, give me it—god, pump it deep in my ass," Natty pleads, and her voice sounds so strained, so broken in between your tireless thrusts.
Not that you'd ever refuse a request like that. It’s not even fair, the things Natty says to get you to explode, gets you all riled up so you’ll fuck her like this, hips snapping back so violently while you throb inside her, every bit desperate to burst.
You can hardly control yourself anymore, hands returning to her wide hips where you belong, fingertips digging deep into that soft, sweaty flesh. Every bit drunk on lust, you pull Natty back on your cock whenever you slam every throbbing inch into her ass, no longer able to think straight while you chase this craving.
"So fucking close, Nat—gonna fucking fill you up," you groan through clenched teeth, using every last drop of energy thrown into ravaging her. The moans that spill from her throat are a delicious treat, but those ass cheeks smacking, bouncing against your hips? That's the cherry on top.
There's no choice in the matter, really, when you look down at the way Natty takes you. She clenches without relent, stretched to accommodate every inch while you pound her like this, tightening up beyond belief—and you can’t take another moment of it.
“Natty—“
With one final, forceful thrust, you cling to those divine hips, burying deep as the bliss consumes you. And while Julie watches every moment, you let go as your cock throbs like never before, emptying everything deep inside where Natty needs it the most—right inside her warm little asshole that demands every bit of your thick seed.
Every violent throb, every loud groan—Natty is all to blame for it as your balls empty, every spurt a new hit of pleasure. Her body claims it all with nothing to spare, milking every last drop you can give, and already it’s overflowing before your thrusts begin to wind down.
"There you go, boytoy. Empty those heavy fucking balls into this slut,” Julie says, unable to tear her gaze away, and she’s more than pleased to watch her best friend get filled to the brim. And you—you’re happy to oblige, the deep relief etched on your face while your cock spurts an endless hot, sticky mess inside.
"Fuck, so full, love all that hot cum dumped right in my ass…” Natty murmurs, sweat glistening all over her decadent body
Whether it’s the sensation of being inside Natty, or having a second pair of eyes watching—you keep emptying like there’s no end. Spurt after spurt, throb after throb, and when it finally slows, you're clinging tight to Natty's body like you’ll collapse otherwise, making a poor attempt to catch your breath.
Julie on the other hand is quite the opposite, kissing all over Natty, lips pressing against her sweaty neck. You have just enough in you to match those same efforts as you stay hilted deep inside her ass, both showering her with kisses, both sides of Natty covered in affection.
"You're so perfect, Nat, holy fuck—you have no idea what you do to me," you groan out, planting another kiss on her lips, stealing them away for a moment from Julie.
"Think I have an idea with all this cum in my ass, boytoy."
Buried deep, you bask in this high, and there’s all the time in the world to wait for Natty’s lips, Julie far too preoccupied with them. And that’s perfectly fine, because you’re unwilling to part from her warmth, kissing everywhere else in the meantime. But somehow, when the bliss starts to dwindle, you find a way to withdraw from that insane grip, inch by inch—leaving behind a deluge of cum that gushes out of that freshly fucked hole, along Natty's thighs and onto Julie beneath.
"Really filled her up, didn’t you, boytoy? She looks fucking destroyed," Julie says with a smug little laugh, all eager to watch the aftermath. Now that you’ve separated, Natty slowly turns around to face you, giving Julie a much better view of how it all oozes out, a goddamn mess you’ve left in her keeps trickling out.
Julie can't help but slide a finger in there, playing with your load like she’s trying her hardest to keep it dripping out of her ass. "H-hey, that’s mine, you greedy little whore," Natty replies, almost embarrassed with how she just can't seem to stop leaking your load.
"Friends share, Nat.“
Pushing her tongue in this time, Julie gets as deep as she can when she spreads Natty apart to get a good taste. The mess you’ve left inside is more than enough for Julie to enjoy herself, licking up whatever cum she can gather up like she’s famished, flicking her tongue in circles around that stretched opening—insatiable for more.
"F-fuck, Jules," Natty moans, letting her best friend play with her ass, eyes closed while Julie gives your load all the attention in the world. Her tongue can’t help but bury inside so deep, earning all these shameless groans from Natty as her slick mouth goes to work, nose pressed into those squishy cheeks while she devours your cum right out of that wrecked ass.
"Tastes as good as it looks," Julie murmurs, flashing a sinful smirk as she slides two fingers back in Natty's ass, sucking them clean with a satisfied moan—not hiding how much she likes it when she turns in your direction. “Ready to pound me next, boytoy?”
The answer is of course, a resounding yes that you can’t quite get out while Julie keeps eating Natty’s ass, hoping to find more of your fresh load that hasn’t leaked out yet.
"Go on, shove your tongue in her ass," Natty encourages, voice still a bit weak, almost inaudible. "Isn't that what you wanted to do when you first saw her?”
"Y-yeah, something like that.”
"Perfect," Julie replies. "Where do you want me, handsome?”
Where don't you, really? So many options—Julie on her back, or lying face down on her stomach, maybe on her knees with that perfect ass in the air. But looking around at the bedroom, at how Natty's already on the verge of collapse, you think maybe there's a better option. The couch works, but it's not exactly what you had in mind, and the bathroom would deprive Julie of an audience, so you choose a perfect alternative.
“Come here.“
And she listens, climbing off the bed as she follows behind, gripping your cock in her tight fist and refusing to release. You lead her over to one of the massive windows in the spacious suite, one that overlooks the city with the second best view, the first where you’re about to bury your face.
"This what you want, handsome? To have your way with me right here?" There’s nothing you’ve wanted more. The thought of pressing Julie’s naked body against the glass—there’s no other option.
"More than anything."
Just like that, Julie is quick to face the window, primed to be pinned up against it. Her breasts squish against the cold glass, delicious ass raised up in full view, and already there's this smile plastered on her face as you get down on your knees without hesitation. Still, you’re not sure how you ended up in this hotel, but dead set on tongue-fucking Natty’s best friend—the last box to check to fulfill your fantasies.
"That tongue. I want it, boytoy. I know what it does to Nat, need it in my ass—shove it in deep until you're ready to pound me," Julie says, making demands on her own with hands pressed against the glass to prop herself up, the reflection of her pretty face staring back—her ass right in your face.
But you can’t just dive right in yet, fingers tracing along the curve of those ample cheeks and just savoring how soft Julie’s skin is with these perfect cheeks that equal Natty's, maybe even rivals.
Impossible not to stare at those deadly curves as you get both hands on each side, spreading her open—and then a long, slow lick from the back of her thigh up, until you reach her puckered little asshole. That earns you the most delicious whimper, one that you need more of as you swirl your tongue around, teasing the rim of Julie’s ass with the tip of your tongue.
Not that you have the patience for teasing her long, a few more flicks until you bury your face in between her asscheeks, plunging your tongue in that tight hole so eagerly to slide right inside. Julie lets out a loud gasp, one that sounds so beautiful as you get in deep, taking these deliberate licks while you fuck her tight little hole with your tongue.
"Oh shit, that's so good," Julie cries out with this pathetic moan that doesn’t hide the neediness in her voice, palms flattened against the glass. For a moment, you catch her reflection, tongue going crazy with all these desperate flicks. It’s everything you’ve craved ever since the moment you knew of Julie's existence, and now that it’s all reality, you’re not going to back down.
“F-fuck, not even Natty is this good at eating my ass—you're going to fucking wreck me with that tongue, don’t stop.”
As if anything in this world could get you to. You’re not intent on giving any response either other than keeping her ass spread open, giving all the access your tongue needs to get in there deep, to get those moans spilling from Julie while you continue this feast.
Her breathing stays ragged as your probing tongue knows just what she needs, slowly drawing out every single gasp and whimper, hands digging into that pillowy flesh while you flick around with purpose, tongue-fucking this delicious ass like you’ve been craving.
“God, Julie,” you groan as you take a brief moment to come up for air, diving right back into that tight hole all slippery with saliva. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.”
She moans at the way your tongue lavishes at her puckered hole that clenches around your tongue, and you circle around before you plunge in deep, in and out at a furious rhythm. And you keep this up, keep those cheeks spread while buried deep in her asshole, pulling out as much pleasure out of Julie as you can.
“I think I do, god, that’s so—feels so fucking good when you shove that tongue up my ass. Is this everything you wanted, boytoy?”
You don’t answer with anything but more sloppy licks, and Julie’s hands slip as they slide along the glass, desperate to push back and shove her ass in your face as much as possible. "If this is how it feels when you're eating my ass, can't wait to have your thick fucking cock in me, stretching me out..."
Julie trails off, and the next moan she chokes out sounds more broken as you can barely pull back from her between her cheeks, just needing more and more with your tongue slipping back inside. There’s not one bit of resistance while you slide your tongue back in her hole, to feel it clench tight and draw you back inside again, exploring every bit of this ass until she's fighting just to stay on her feet.
It goes without saying that Julie is in love with the way you work her like this, and your tongue thrusts back and forth like you’ll never be able to get enough, all sloppy and primal while you indulge on it, savoring every noise you tear from her mouth.
She's going to fall apart, having to close her eyes and fight like hell just not to collapse in bliss. It's a struggle to let out anything but broken words and endless gasps as your tongue fucks her, leaving her with this wicked desire to finally feel that throbbing cock fill up her perfect ass.
And when you can tell that Julie is seconds away from toppling over, that's the moment when you reluctantly pull away, dragging your tongue away with a wet little slurp—your saliva leaving her asshole glistening.
"Julie, god, this ass—" you groan, nearly out of breath from all the work your tongue has done. "That was everything I expected and more."
A desperate gasp falls from Julie's lips, unable to properly speak as her tits smash up against the glass, still propping herself up, legs spread wide and parted for easy access, waiting for whatever comes next.
"Then what the hell are you waiting for, handsome?" she mutters, struggling to get those words out. "Fuck my tight ass—pound it like it's Natty's cunt."
In a second, you're up and at attention, raring for what comes next, Julie's breath fogging up the window while you grab the one thing that’s going to help you slide right between those perfect ass cheeks. Julie's got a hand in between those thighs, slowly rubbing at her clit while you get all slicked up, stroking your cock inches away from where it’s going to feel so goddamn good.
"Get that cock in me," Julie demands, impatient as she takes up position again, pressing her body up against the window so she can be spread open.
It's not hard to oblige that request—you move right up against her, sandwiching your slick cock between those soft cheeks, sliding up and down as you nestle it right in there. But that's not going to last long at all, no, Julie wants you deep in her ass, and you can hardly stand not being inside her for another moment.
"Come on, boytoy," is all she says to confirm those desires, turning her head back to steal a glance, tempting you further, begging with her eyes. "Slam that dick in me, don't make me tell you twice."
So you get right behind her, bending her over and spreading her cheeks wide to align yourself. You push in without warning, hands at Julie's hips and tugging her back until that tight ring of muscle relaxes, letting the head of your cock ease its way in nice and slow.
"Oh fuck," you choke out as the rest slides right in, so easily, balls deep as her ass envelops your cock, stretching around every last inch you have to give. “Your ass feels incredible, so tight—"
Your hands get right on those curvy hips, not wasting another second, squeezing tightly when you slide out and slam right in. There's no room for caution or mercy when you have Julie bent over and ass sticking out like an invitation for your cock, nothing but a deep desire to ruin her tight little asshole.
"Shit, handsome—there you go, m-more, want you to split me open on that thick fucking dick."
Gripping hard enough to leave a bruise, you piston your hips to slide back out, pulling her onto you, that gorgeous, perfect ass rippling whenever your body collides with her. And already it's all consuming, that pleasure, the way her asshole swallows your length when you plunge forward, her voice filling the room.
You don't go slow, and don't hold back as you slap Julie's ass—this insatiable desire to make her bounce right back on your throbbing cock.
"It's gonna take more than that to break me, boytoy. Do whatever the fuck you want—show me what you're capable of," Julie says through gasping breaths as she squeezes around you. You can hardly take how insanely tight she is as her warmth completely suffocates your whole cock while you pound inside. It's impossible not to lose control, using her wide hips to control just how deep you can go, the slap of her huge ass against your hips like music to your ears.
You're beyond feral when you dig both hands back into those perfect cheeks, spreading her open to keep this view of your cock impaling her ass going. And you keep her up against the window, pounding mercilessly into her tight little asshole without pause, again, and again, her ass just taking every thrust, welcoming the full length of your cock.
"God, this ass is too fucking good," you groan out, nearly breathless, gripping tight as her ass crashes back into you.
“Knew you would love it. Fuck, that cock feels amazing stretching me open—tearing my greedy asshole apart," Julie says, face pressed up against the glass and your eyes glued right below, at where your shaft is buried to the hilt between those delicious cheeks, slamming balls deep every single time. Your hips give their all, pinning Julie against the massive hotel window, tits squished against the cool glass while she just lets you hammer into her ass.
"More, boytoy, need more—pound me so hard I can't walk straight for a week." Julie knows the pleading in her voice alone is enough to set you off. And that gets you well past that point, hips moving so fast while you give her ass a series of harsh smacks on repeat, each a loud smack that competes with the sounds of hot flesh on hot flesh that fills the apartment with your balls smacking away against her dripping cunt.
Natty is on her feet again, a hint of exhaustion still on her face. She's watching this with rapt attention, Julie being jolted against the glass while you pound into her without mercy.
"Didn't get enough, Nat?"
Hardly anything but a nod leaves her, not wanting to interrupt, back against the window, still naked, sweaty, and wearing this curious expression as she watches the show go on. Content to just observe, her hands wander down her stomach, down in between her thighs. "Can’t a girl get a good look at her best friend getting her ass reamed? Too hot not to watch.”
And then your focus is back on Julie, watching those gorgeous cheeks bounce with every deep thrust, savoring the way her ass squeezes your cock with a vice grip. It's a miracle you're not blowing your load already, but this is too good, not nearly ready to let this end, not with the way Julie's asshole feels wrapped around your cock.
"This is the best fucking thing I've felt in a long time," you manage to get out, not holding back the slightest when your hips meet hers, the sound of flesh echoing through the room.
"I'm glad I can be of service," Julie murmurs. "Look at that, Nat. If you're not careful, I'll steal him from you."
"Please, Jules, like I'm not getting his cock whenever the hell I want. You couldn't even imagine how he uses me. Boytoy is a fucking animal when I let him be," Natty replies, sliding the pad of her finger slowly along her swollen clit while she keeps those eyes fixated on the on the spectacle, how rough you're being with her best friend.
"Good. Because if you're wanting another go at his cock, you're gonna have to wait a bit, Nat. I'm not sharing him for a while."
There's not even an objection—Natty wants to watch too much. And when Julie lets out this breathless, desperate sound, her hands slide up and down against the glass, scrambling for something to anchor herself to. There's not a chance she's giving you up.
"God, boytoy, keep that up—you're going to fucking destroy me," Julie moans out, a slight crack in her voice, like she's about to crumble from how intense it all feels.
"Think that's the plan," Natty replies, not able to look away for a moment as her fingers continue rubbing her clit, occasionally dipping it between her soaked lips. And your palm goes crazy on those asscheeks, slapping away while you thrust your whole cock into Julie's impossibly tight asshole, savoring the way she squeezes the life out of your length. One hard slap, one deep thrust after the other, and there's no sign of slowing down anytime soon, not while you have her up against the window, fucking her like your life depends on it.
"Can't believe you get to have this dick whenever you want, Nat. He's so fucking good—don't know how you ever survive a minute without his cock in you."
"I manage," Natty replies, the faintest of smiles crossing her lips. "I spend most of my mornings riding his fucking brains out. Or his face before class, whatever the mood calls for. Gets me through at least the first couple classes."
“Please, like you even make it through science class without sneaking us to the nearest bathroom.”
“And? Not my fault I need a little extra to get through the morning. Some people have coffee, and I get my boytoy's cum. Is that really so different?"
Even Julie can't help but smile at how ridiculous Natty sounds when it all comes out, somehow letting out this little laugh while she's being ravaged. And even with how rough you're getting with her ass—pounding it like you'll die without it, there's still this surreal feeling of not understanding how you got here, lusting over her nudes to being actually buried in her ass.
"Gotta admit—never seen Jules have a better time," Natty says, fingers rubbing her sensitive little clit while she talks. "Girl gets paid to get her ass fucked on the daily and looks like she can barely take that cock. Maybe I should be more selfish with you. Just in case either of you get any bright ideas.”
“Just might. You picked the right girl for this, god, this fucking ass is insane—“
“When have I ever steered you wrong? All these months of dropping my panties for you whenever you want, and you don't trust my judgment yet? I know what you like. Because it’s what I like. Julie is perfect for you in every single way.”
"Okay, point taken." You'd roll your eyes if you weren't buried deep in Julie's tight asshole—her ass is as addictive and heavenly as Natty's, maybe even more.
"Just get back to ruining her, boytoy," she says with a chuckle, already too lost in her own fingers. “And don’t leave out the spanking, she fucking loves that.”
Not like you needed to be told to do that. But you intend on making those plump cheeks as bright red as you possibly can, each slap on her bare ass punctuating your thrusts that Julie takes so well. You don’t even bother to rub out the sting, smacking the sore flesh in the same spot, this delicious clench around your cock tightening up every single time. And you keep it up, these echoing slaps that turn Julie into more of a mess. One that really makes her snap forward before she seizes your wrist, guiding your fingers up her body until it's at her throat—begging you for this without a word.
A request like that is not something you can easily refuse either, tightening up your grip as you continue plunging right into that tight hole, her hand joining yours on her throat, squeezing it.
"Just like that, fuck," Julie says while your pace picks up speed—to the point that it's difficult not to collapse from how insanely good you feel slamming into her. And if it was a struggle before, the combined grip your fingers have on her throat makes her asshole clamp down on your cock, squeezing like she'll never release and only begging for your load.
You've got some fight in you still, to try to draw this out as much as possible, determined not to collapse first and ramming so mercilessly into her ass. But your first mistake is letting your eyes shift back up to where Julie is being pinned against the window by your stiff cock. That's a moment of weakness—when your cock hits even deeper, the look on her face, lips parted so all these sinful moans can escape, you nearly lose it.
The best part is how Natty gets to witness all of it as her fingers do their magic, a rare occasion where she's not said a single thing in minutes. It's difficult not to find it all so arousing as you're deep inside, while she’s got slick fingers in her cunt at the sight of you using Julie like she’s nothing but a toy.
"Shit, g-gonna cum," Julie gasps out, struggling to form anything more than that, and it's only seconds later her eyes flutter shut, until you feel this tremendous wetness that can’t be contained between her thighs, lips parted with a slur of obscenities unleashed.
The clenches that follow throw you dangerously close, Julie so sensitive and needy as she rubs her clit, greedy for a second orgasm that follows as you continue to drive her up against the glass. One more look at her reflection, at how wrecked she is, then your gaze shoots to those reddened cheeks, at the pummeling they’ve taken, all stretched out around you and demanding more—you’re almost there yourself.
It's the last burst of energy you have to make good on it, spreading those cheeks nice and wide to slam into her with whatever is left. With how crazy the pressure in your shaft builds—how that ass swallows your length to the hilt again and again, the release you need so badly is closing in, seconds away at this rate.
That's exactly why you pull out, leaving Julie's hole gaping and needy when you pull her off the glass—already so close to bursting when your hand finds her head and she's forced down on her knees.
"W-why'd you stop?" Julie manages to get out, but that's all she has time for when you shove yourself past her lips, balls pressed against her chin.
And as good as it feels driving deep into Julie's ass, seeing her get her lips sealed around your dick, having this urge to unload, to have your thick load pouring down her throat—it's too good an opportunity to resist.
"Needed your fucking throat to finish me off, that's why."
Without a word of warning, you're grabbing her head, jamming her mouth further onto your cock. There's hardly any resistance—only a little sputter at how your length slips into her throat, hitting the back so you can hear the unmistakable sounds of Julie gagging and choking on it.
Fingers wrapped in that pretty hair, you force her head down your cock as you hit past the point of no return. It's the look in those devilish eyes when you hold her right there that gets you the rest of the way—how desperate and hungry she looks, staring up, your cock spasming right before you unload.
Her mouth stays right where you need it to be, this tight seal around your shaft as you explode, eyes going wide at the sheer volume of it—hot, thick spurts shooting down her throat, some of it overflowing, the rest straight into her stomach. Your cock twitches violently the whole time, and your grip remains tight on the back of her head so she can't pull away—not that she would ever want to.
When your endless spurts start to lose steam, her lips stay wrapped tight as your climax subsides, the wet heat of her mouth overwhelming in the best ways. You hold her there for as long as you can handle it, until there’s nothing left—just the slow, steady sound of satisfaction humming through Julie’s mouth.
“God, shit—Julie, you’re amazing,” you gasp out as you stand there, trying to catch your breath. She’s still there, lips soft and tight around you, holding you through every last twitch of release.
“Mm,” she hums again, licking her lips before she presses a deep kiss to the tip. Then she leans back just enough, tilting her head and parting her lips wide, tongue out to show you—nothing left. Every last drop swallowed. “Didn’t want to waste anything.”
"Selfish little whore," Natty chimes in, slumped against the window with a pout resting on her lips. "You weren't gonna save any cum for me? What happened to friends share?"
"Not when it tastes this good. Maybe next time," Julie replies, and the expression on Natty's face is priceless as she gets up, trying to pull her away from the glass with a kiss to no avail.
"First of all, no, there is no 'next time'—boytoy is mine. I'm just sharing him for tonight because he's never had a threesome before and I felt bad for him."
“Oh, so I’m just a pity fuck to him?” Julie teases, rising to her feet to leave kisses down along Natty's neck. "Didn't seem so, not with the way his cock filled every single inch of my asshole. I've never had a guy use me like this."
"You literally get paid to take cocks up your ass," Natty retorts.
"That's work. This? This was a hundred times more fun. Get used to it—this is happening more frequently, pretty girl. Whether you're willing to share or not."
"That doesn't make up for stealing my goddamn cum! Friends share, remember?"
"Was it really my fault he wanted to fuck my face until he came down my throat? That's not selfish, I call that helping out."
"Yes it is, because now he's all spent and isn't able to go again any time soon. All because you had to turn your throat into a fleshlight,” Natty groans, pausing for a moment to sulk.
"Hey, this was all your idea in the first place. Or was I supposed to stop and ask permission before choking on his cock?”
"Oh fuck off, you selfish slut," Natty laughs, nearly shoving Julie across the room. "Whatever, he at least likes my ass the best anyways, no matter if you're in the room or not."
"Oh really now? What do you think, boytoy? Who made your cock feel better?"
You know better than to try being part of their interrogation, staying silent. There's a slightly terrifying look in both their eyes that you'd rather avoid.
"You two are insane."
"Insane for this fat cock," Natty says, the two of them sharing a laugh.
“Can't argue with that, pretty girl.” Julie strokes her fingers lightly through your hair before she leans in for a kiss to silence Natty again—until it turns more ravenous, and god, your poor cock just isn't going to get a break around them. They both break away for a breath after a moment, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths that neither of them seems bothered about.
“Don't think that you're off the hook because you slipped your tongue in my mouth. Maybe I'll just make you cum a few dozen more times for what you did," Natty says with this sweet giggle, a sudden tug on Julie's nipples that catches her off guard. And then another that follows when she tries to pull away, getting one more moan out of her, fingertips finding her wet slit as Julie squirms to get out of it. "Still wet after all of that?"
There's little time for Julie to react when she gets pinned against the glass once more, only letting out a desperate moan—a noise that's loud enough to wake the dead.
"W-wait, Nat—I just came," Julie protests, voice shaking while Natty's relentless fingers run through her cunt, already so oversensitive.
"Don't care. This is what you get for being such a thieving little slut." Finding all this extra wetness, Natty’s fingers slide inside and curl against her sensitive spot. There's no way she can look away, feeling all the shudders Julie tries to suppress, and the little winces of pain that leave her as the pleasure gets mixed together in the most torturous way. It's the kind of wicked revenge Natty loves dishing out. “You must be pretty sensitive after having this fucking dick ruin you, right? Maybe this teaches you to not be such a greedy whore."
"F-fuck, you're such a fucking jealous bitch," Julie groans, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open despite how sensitive and overwhelming everything feels. Natty knows the weakest places and presses her fingers against it, thumb sliding over her clit every so often just for extra torment.
"The very worst," Natty agrees with a smirk, finding the perfect spot inside and rubbing right there without relent. And seeing how this usually confident girl becomes a quivering mess is more satisfying than you could imagine.
"Stop, s-shit, not this much, god, please—“ Julie can do little but beg, all pathetic and hopeless, just to have Natty curl her fingers in a way that brings out something guttural from her throat. But Natty disregards every plea, every whimper and whine that gets louder with every relentless stroke.
The helpless desperation in Julie's eyes while her lips tremble only fuels Natty. A crooked little smile crosses her lips at the sound of Julie’s cries as she rolls a hardened nipple between her fingers, pinching down hard—hard enough to make Julie throw her head back, a messy line of drool leaking from her parted lips.
You're frozen to the spot where you watch, mesmerized by how ruthless Natty can get. There's no place left for Julie to escape, trapped between her and the window with the threat of another devastating orgasm her body isn't prepared for.
"God, look at you. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you beg like this. Your cunt must be so fucking sensitive. Which means—you're going to cum just as hard, maybe harder. Not a thing you can do about it either, is there? "
Julie barely manages a response, too wrecked and overstimulated to do anything but take it. Every touch sets her nerves on fire.
“So fucking selfish,” Natty growls, pace never faltering. “Always have to be the first. First to get dicked down, first to steal the attention—pretty little slut doesn’t actually like sharing, does she? Just likes the spotlight.”
“H-hey, that’s—ah, fuck, ah—not t-true,” Julie gasps out, but it’s useless. Her body tells a different story, writhing against the glass, chasing after Natty’s touch even as she trembles from it.
That’s what gets another wicked laugh out from Natty’s lips. “Poor thing is gonna cum again. This soon?” Her fingers drive in deeper, pushing Julie to the edge whether she’s ready or not. “Thought you weren’t selfish. But looks like you’re proving me right.”
You don’t even have to be watching for what happens next, a broken sob from Julie enough to know the damage has already been done. Natty shoves her over. A sharp cry rips from her throat, her whole body locking up, muscles seizing as the bliss crashes through her.
She can’t even hide it, can’t even muffle the cries that fall from her throat—Natty won’t let her. A firm grip tears the hand over Julie’s mouth away, forcing her moans to ring loud and proud.
And Natty isn’t finished. Not even close.
The obscene slickness between Julie’s thighs only grows, coating Natty’s fingers as she keeps them deep, making her gush without a hint of mercy. “Fuck, look at you,” Natty murmurs, her breath hot against Julie’s ear, clearly thrilled by how helpless she’s made her. Julie’s legs tremble so violently she can barely stay upright. “So fucking selfish. You can't stop, can you? Just keep gushing all over my fingers like a needy little mess.”
Julie sobs again, but it’s lost in the wet, obscene rhythm between them—the slick sound of her cunt being worked filling the space louder than any protest she might’ve had left.
Only when she’s had her fill, does Natty finally show mercy. Fingers easing out, she lets Julie slump forward. But not without one last cruel tease—a few sharp slaps to that overstimulated clit, just to watch her flinch. Just to hear that final, wrecked little whimper.
“You fucking—” Julie hisses, barely able to breathe, and still, she can’t even pull away. Not when Natty presses down, applying the lightest, taunting pressure, just to remind her exactly who’s in control.
"Tell me I'm right—tell me, you self-centered little whore. Tell me that's what you are, or you aren't getting a break."
"Fine! Y-you’re right," Julie chokes out, her voice all broken, thighs twitching as Natty keeps that unbearable pressure right where she knows it’ll ruin her. "I’m selfish. Selfish, greedy, whatever you can add. Proud of it, even. Now, please—"
Natty smirks, dragging her fingers through the mess she’s made, slow and deliberate before licking it clean
"Jesus, Nat. Can you blame a girl for being addicted to boytoy’s cum? You're the one who sucked his load out of my cunt earlier and didn't share," Julie says, voice still weak, nowhere near recovered.
"And? What's your point?” Natty fires back. “Still doesn't give you the right to bogart his cum for your filthy little throat.”
This conversation feels a little too surreal, like you’re not even in the room. And then, suddenly—silence.
“Boytoy,” they say together, perfectly synchronized, and there’s something inherently dangerous in that.
“What was it you said earlier?” Natty muses, tilting her head with that look—you know the one. “Something about going all night if you had to?”
Batting her lashes with feigned innocence, Natty steps forward in perfect sync with Julie, both with this predatory gaze.
“Or maybe that was just an empty promise—”
Before you can react, you're at the edge of the bed, completely vulnerable with two sets of hands pushing you down. The mattress catches your back, your head spinning, no clue what’s coming next.
“Either way…” Julie purrs, leaning over you, her breath warm against your skin. “We’re far from done with you.”
These two are going to ruin you, without a shadow of a doubt, and you'll still come crawling back for more.
—
And now, you’re exactly where they want you—pinned between them, not going anywhere.
By the time the clock reads well into the next morning, both women are finally tuckered out, fast asleep. Little reminders of the night are scattered across your skin: bruises on your chest, bite marks, lipstick stains, scratches down your back. Each worn with pride.
Every inch of your body aches in the best way, and even the slightest shift in the sheets sends that soreness pulsing from head to toe. Not that you mind—especially with both of them curled up on either side of you, their warm bodies pressed close, using you as their personal pillow.
Julie is the first to stir, groaning as she nuzzles against you. Her dark hair is still messy and disheveled, almost hesitant to choose whether she wants to wake up or not. But when her eyes flutter open at the sight of you, she peppers a few tired kisses along your skin, her lips curling into a sleepy smile.
"Morning, handsome. Sleep well?"
You hesitate, lost in the way she looks so beautiful in the morning. "Maybe better than I ever have."
"Me too," Julie says, grinning ear to ear, tracing lazy patterns on your chest as best she can without moving an inch away. "Had me worried for a bit. Thought we broke your cock."
Not far from the truth, considering you ran through just about every position under the sun—Natty pinned beneath you, legs in the air; Julie’s face shoved into a pillow as you railed her ass for the second time, and then both of them side by side, moaning into the sheets and making out while you plowed them from behind.
You’ll never forget the sight of both of them hanging off the bed, upside-down, your cock plunging into their greedy throats while their perfect tits bounce between your fingertips.
Or how you’ve lost count of how many times you made each of them gush—on your cock, your fingers, your face, soaked and shaking underneath you. Clenching tight before screaming your name, insatiable and wringing you dry like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Like they’d tear you apart just to do it all over again.
By the end, you could barely think straight—just sweat-slicked skin, the taste of their ravenous mouths, and the way they used you without pause. With your final release, you gave them everything—blasting across their faces as they knelt cheek to cheek, tongues out, makeup smeared, smiling through the mess while the night sky loomed above. Ruined, covered in you, and still starved for more.
The last thing you remember was lying flat on your back, mouth buried between their legs as they took turns riding your face—one after the other, thick thighs clamped around your head, grinding down hard until they were left gasping, trembling with nothing left to take.
"Hardly. I'm still in perfect working order, I'll have you know."
"Poor boytoy. We really made you go all night, huh?"
Natty starts to rise on the opposite side and stretches in this obscene, unhurried way—arms overhead, back arching, shirt lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of bare skin and the curve of her breasts.
“Ngh, morning…" Natty says as she glances at you, voice hoarse as she rolls closer, draping herself over your chest like she owns it. “He’s still alive? Impressive.”
“Says the one who slept the entire morning.”
"I was already up,—just didn't wanna move," Natty groans, wrapping her arms tighter around you to press a kiss right into your skin. "Too comfy. Boytoy did a number on me—my ass feels like it's going to be sore for a week."
Julie tries to bite back a laugh, but it slips free as she presses her face into your chest. “You did beg him to rail you like that—not his fault he delivered."
Natty huffs, rolling her eyes as she twirls a strand of your hair between her fingers. “Okay, yeah, but still—no one said he had to listen. There’s a difference between rough and demolished.”
“When has that ever been a problem? Never known you to tap out for anything. Don’t you remember—”
Natty quickly interjects, groaning. "Don’t you dare.”
But Julie has this sly smile that warns you this is already out of your hands. A masterful tease. "That first weekend I met you. And those two guys, in that hotel, the one where we almost got kicked out for being too loud. Pretty girl got spitroasted the whole night, didn’t she? Couldn't even stand once they were finished with her. And all of a sudden, boytoy is just a little too much?"
There's a momentary struggle while Natty tries to block out the memory, her hands about ready to strangle her friend as the laughter spills from Julie.
"Don't you dare let her tell you stories. Anything she says is a goddamn lie. Nothing like that ever happened."
And even when Natty goes dead quiet, Julie still has that evil little giggle, pressing light kisses along your jawline. “No? Then who was holding the camera the whole time? All the videos from that night are on my phone, let me just—”
Julie's cut off by a firm smack on her bare thigh—swift and drawing a yelp from her, and for Natty's sake, she drops the subject.
“Look, those were just two random guys I met. I was drunk, they wanted to fuck me, and I never saw them again. Boytoy is a much better option,” Natty grumbles, defeated.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl. If his dick is too much for you to take, I’ll be more than happy to take him off your hands.”
Natty lifts her head just enough to glare. “Nobody said I couldn’t handle it. I rather like having him rearrange my insides, thank you very much.”
“Oh, that’s obvious with the amount of times you swore you couldn’t go again, only to crawl back for more,” Julie teases.
“Sounds like Nat.”
Rolling her eyes is all Natty can do. “Oh, shut up. Don’t need the girl who takes twelve inches several times a day on camera to lecture me.”
Julie scoffs and tosses a pillow at her head. “You wish you could handle him like I do.”
“Who was the one all folded up and crying after I came out of the shower after he shoved his cock back in you before you were ready?” Natty fires back, raising an eyebrow. “Could barely get a word out between those moans, babe.”
She laughs, cheeks turning red. "Not my fault boytoy loves making me cum again and again until I can barely move…"
That's when Natty drops it, more focused on kissing her way down your body. “How does breakfast sound, boytoy? Room service? That way we don’t have to get dressed?”
You nod in agreement, too exhausted to say a word.
"Why order breakfast when we've got this to feast on, right here?" Julie purrs, nipping at your shoulder as her fingers trail lower under the sheets. “Poor thing gets so hard in the morning.”
“Can you blame him when he gets to wake up next to us?” And in typical fashion, it's Natty who joins in, both of them stroking your painful erection beneath the covers. A synchronized pair of squeezes while they both giggle at the moans you can't stop from letting out.
"God—you really are going to break me, aren't you?"
"Only if we try hard enough. We were a bit easy on you last night, so maybe—"
You swallow hard when both their hands tease along your cock at the exact same time. If last night was easy, then there's no telling what's to come if they don't have to hold back. Not that you aren't looking forward to it. “Is she always like this? This early?”
There’s a look exchanged between them before Julie speaks again. "What, completely obsessed with cock and cum hungry all the time? That would be a yes."
Natty’s smirk deepens as she tosses the sheets aside, making sure you can see every stroke, slow, teasing, and all in perfect sync.
You can’t help the low moan that escapes your throat, eyes locked on these two between your thighs, on the way your cock twitches in their grip. It’s almost too much already, and they’ve only gotten started.
"Don’t pretend like you’re not also dying for a nice morning blowjob, handsome,” Julie says while you try and open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp the moment Natty’s thumb teases your tip.
"Hey, don't even think about trying to steal another load when I'm right here, Jules."
"I'll share this time. Promise."
Natty pauses for a second, debating whether to actually believe her friend—who's already kissing up your abdomen while she gets her fingers wrapped around your shaft. "And by share, I'm gonna assume you mean it's going right down your throat where I can't even see it?"
"I'll give you a little taste this time,” Julie says, pausing for effect while she pumps your length. ”If you behave."
"Nuh-uh, it's my turn to be selfish with boytoy," Natty says, not letting anything get in the way of her chance to indulge. Julie’s being shoved aside, and suddenly you’re at the edge of the bed, legs dangling as Natty tosses her shirt aside—full, perfect breasts bouncing when she sinks between your thighs. Her chest has your full attention, and without warning, she engulfs your cock between her soft breasts, burying you in her warm, perfect cleavage.
"Hey, no fair using your tits," Julie whines, but you can't even hear her protest with Natty's tits pressed up tight against your cock.
“You know what's not fair? Stealing all his cum. Now be a good girl and watch."
It's a demand that seems to work—Julie falls silent, and it's impossible not to look where your cock disappears between the weight of her breasts, wrapped tight around your cock, sliding up and down with this delicious friction.
“Fuck, Nat," you groan, eyes focused between her gorgeous tits that she presses tight around you, silky smooth and feeling softer than anything your cock has experienced. The sort of sensation that can put any other to shame—and Natty knows exactly what it does to you.
"Feels so fucking good doesn't it, boytoy? My fucking tits wrapped around your cock? God, you look like you're ready to bust already."
She's not wrong, either. The feeling of your cock trapped between her heavy breasts is almost too much—all warm and too inviting, the swollen head poking through her cleavage when she moves her chest in just the right way. Not a single thought left in your brain but pleasure, nothing but clear intent to have you spill your load right between them.
The way her tits hug your cock with every motion only makes the ache worse, and Natty just looks up at you, all proud, like she knows she’s got you under her spell. And she really does, leaning her head down, a thick line of drool spilling down between the luscious valley to make the slide all that more heavenly.
"Those fucking tits are ridiculous," Julie groans, jealous but still enamored at the sight while you try to fight the growing heat building with every stroke. You've been through everything with these two in the last 24 hours, but Natty's tits—all bounce and sinful softness, still manage to have power all on their own the second they’re around your cock.
But of course, Julie can’t help herself—with no concept of waiting her turn, she positions herself behind Natty, who doesn’t even realize what’s about to happen until it's too late. Julie gets a hold on those hefty tits for herself, helping them slide down your shaft and taking some semblance of control for herself.
"Hey—what do you think you’re doing, whore?" Natty gasps, caught off guard by the sudden groping as her tits are worked along your cock. She could shove Julie off—but doesn’t, letting her help guide the heavy pair over your shaft instead.
"Sharing, you spoiled little brat, like you promised to do," she purrs, squeezing Natty’s tits tighter around your cock, making sure you feel every inch of their combined efforts. The way Julie digs her fingers into that glorious flesh sends you a little deeper towards your breaking point.
"Is that what you call it? Because it seems like you're trying to bogart my titfuck, just because you couldn't have him all to yourself," Natty responds, not bothering to try and hide the irritation, but not telling her to stop either. Julie grins, leaning her cheek against Natty's shoulder so she can get closer, forcing your member into a faster rhythm.
“That's exactly what I'm doing," Julie admits. "Because his dick does look rather nice sliding between your big tits."
You're not even paying attention to their argument—far too busy reveling in the softness of Natty's chest, the friction you desperately need, in the confines of her cleavage. You try your damndest not to spill from just this, their fingers entwined while they work in tandem, getting your length pumping between those heaving mounds.
Natty does nothing but scrunch up her face in annoyance, pouty and upset that her alone time has been interrupted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're a little jealous."
Julie keeps smiling, unfazed—maybe a little too much as she continues to use her friend's breasts with not a care in the world, not even realizing how she's pushing you further, your balls feeling heavy and so fucking ready to erupt.
"Maybe a little. How could I not be? Of both these tits and boytoy’s amazing cock that gets to fuck them whenever he wants. Can't even imagine getting to wake up and devour these every morning."
"They are pretty incredible," Natty says, batting her lashes as her tits jiggle, still cradling your aching cock and keeping the heavenly friction constant—no escape in sight. "Not sure who's more lucky, boytoy or me."
You may never know the answer to that.
All you know is there's no doubt in your mind that this is the best way to experience the true glory of these tits—and the more you stare, the less control you have, the pressure rising between your legs all the more. The groans that leave your throat get a little louder, a little more desperate as these two work to get you off, not easing up at all as they both crave your release.
"God, Nat, your tits really are unbelievable," Julie moans, getting this perfect handful with both hands as she assists, refusing to let the pace slack even a little. She can't get enough of the way they bounce between her fingers—how her touch gets the soft, plump flesh to smother the whole length of your cock. "They're making his dick leak so fucking much already."
"Can you even imagine how much he's going to cum all over them?" Natty adds, almost taunting. "Gonna make a mess, aren't you, boytoy?"
Your hips buck on impulse, not a shred of patience left when she asks that question, and it's not long until the ache of holding back is just too much. Natty stares, this knowing look when she senses the inevitable. You're so, so goddamn close now, needing little more than a few more pumps, these hungry gazes and wicked smiles only pushing you that much closer.
"Almost there, f-fuck—" you manage to blurt out, every pump between those luscious tits somehow more devastating than the last, each one feeling like it could finish you off.
“Cum, boytoy—do it," Julie encourages. “Show us how much of a fucking mess your huge load will make of these perfect tits.”
Natty does little but smile, glancing down to where your cock juts out of her cleavage, throbbing desperately under all this pillowy softness. And all that's needed is another firm squeeze of their hands, those tits smothering you tight to send you straight over the edge.
The eruption follows only moments later, hot, thick spurts of sticky white that makes their eyes go wide at the forceful blast that sprays up Natty's cleavage. It’s endless—shot after shot spilling over those gorgeous tits, painting them like the most sinful canvas imaginable. Your cum spills into the deep valley of her tits, streaking her neck and even hitting her chin, marking her in the most depraved way, just like these two greedy girls wanted. You’ve never seen anything more perfect.
"Look at all that—there's so much fucking cum," Natty marvels, her heavy breathing causing those hefty tits to rise and fall as Julie lets them free, letting her finish the job, eager to milk out what last final drops she can from you. A few more languid strokes between her cum-streaked breasts and they squeeze around you one last time, drawing out the final dribble before your cock slips free, still twitching from just the sight of that delicious cleavage coated in pearly white.
It isn't much of a surprise when Julie is the first to taste it, a long lick along Natty's neck, helping her clean up every bit she can get off her. Her tongue drags along her voluminous chest before sealing her mouth around a nipple, savoring the taste on her tongue with a moan.
"Natty looks so pretty covered in boytoy's thick load," Julie murmurs when she comes up for air, lips glossy with spit and cum as she gives one last lingering lick where your load still clings to her glistening tits. “Almost too good to clean up.”
Natty can hardly disagree, watching her friend dive back into the mess with the voracious appetite that can only be expected—from someone just as obsessed with your cum as she is.
The display leaves you speechless, only able to stare—cock still twitching, spent, yet desperate to bury yourself between the luscious pair all over again.
Julie isn’t done by a long shot, licking up a thick streak of cum from the curve of Natty’s breast, her tongue slow and deliberate as she collects every drop. But instead of swallowing, she lifts Natty’s chin, lips parting to share it in a messy, heated kiss—swapping the load between their tongues, both moaning like they can’t get enough of the taste and each other.
And if you weren’t still throbbing from such a satisfying release, you certainly are now—watching them swap your load back and forth, savoring it like some sweet delicacy. Insatiable and shameless, they kiss and moan through every messy moment, tongues tangled and lips glistening, the sight alone nearly has you ready to go again.
They eventually part, a thin string of spit and cum still connecting their tongues, both breathless as they steal their share of the mess, licking lips and lost in their own hunger.
Before you can even recover, Natty’s already sinking back down between your legs, wrapping her lips around your cock with a satisfied hum, like she’s missed the taste of you already. Julie isn’t going to stay idle, and her hands slide up to grope Natty’s still-slick breasts, fingers digging in possessively as she leans close, watching every inch disappear into that heavenly mouth.
“Look at you,” Julie purrs, her breath hot against Natty’s neck as she toys with a glistening nipple between her fingers. “Didn’t even give poor boytoy a break. You really want to break him, huh?”
“Nothing he can’t handle.”
Your breath hitches, strained and shaky to prove otherwise as Natty sucks harder, tongue swirling with maddening precision, until she suddenly pulls off with a wet pop, your cock glistening and twitching in the cool air. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to your sensitive tip, gaze locked on yours to drink in your reaction while her hand keeps stroking slowly, drawing out every last twitch of overstimulation. It’s too much—but yet you don’t want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.
And just like that, Julie’s lips are right back on Natty’s tits, kissing and sucking like she’s been starved for them, tongue flicking over each nipple, and insatiable can’t even begin to describe it.
“Nothing like a good breakfast,” Julie hums against Natty’s flesh, too focused on suckling at her tits to say anything else, lips sealed tight as if she can find any more of your seed and relish that taste.
"You two really are fucking addicted to my tits, aren't you?" Natty laughs breathlessly, enjoying the attention with one hand in Julie’s hair while the other lazily strokes your still-throbbing cock.
Julie pulls off with a lewd pop before grinning up at her. “Can you blame us, Nat?” she breathes, eyes half-lidded with lust as she squeezes one of those heavy breasts. “They’re perfect, pretty girl. Who the fuck could ever resist these?”
And there's nothing for Natty to say, after all—the evidence speaks for itself. Julie’s already latched back onto her tit like she’s tasting heaven, lips sealed over Natty’s swollen nipple, slow and wet. Her free hand kneads the other breast, pulling it closer as if she’s determined to worship every inch. And you’ve got the perfect fucking view of it all.
—-
What feels like hours later, the three of you finally make it to a much-needed shower—the hot water feeling so good on your bodies. There’s a mess of limbs underneath the calming water, and despite the fatigue, and a plethora of smiles and giggles to go around. Kisses are shared without urgency, without need, the soft press of lips against damp skin while hands roam around lazily, more interested in sharing affection than stoking desire.
It’s a well-earned moment of relaxation that lingers when the water gets turned off and towels hit the floor—just in time for coffee, and maybe some actual breakfast, if these two can keep their hands to themselves long enough to order room service.
But when there’s a knock on the door for exactly that, Julie’s the one who answers the door, striding over in nothing but a tiny pair of red panties and a snug white crop top that barely covers her tits—nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric.
“He recognized me,” Julie says with a smug grin as she saunters back inside, swinging the door shut behind her with her hip. She sets the tray down on the bar like nothing happened, unable to hide her amusement. “Could barely keep his eyes off my tits. Poor guy almost dropped the food.”
Natty arches a brow, crossing her arms under her own chest as she sits back against the headboard, legs stretched out and a lazy grin playing on her lips—completely naked, not bothering to throw on a single piece of clothing. “Recognized you from what, exactly?” she teases, though there’s already a knowing look in her eyes.
“Oh, you know, he’s a fan,” Julie replies with a wink, plopping down beside Natty on the bed, clearly having no intention of covering up. Her fingers toy idly with the hem of her shirt, as if daring it to ride up even further. “Pretty sure he’ll be jerking off to the memory for weeks.”
"That ass is pretty famous," Natty replies, eyes trailing over Julie’s barely covered curves with shameless appreciation.
Julie just laughs, stretching lazily, her toned stomach flexing as she raises her arms over her head. The motion makes her crop top ride up even more, exposing just a hint of her bare breasts, but she makes no move to fix it. Instead, she smirks, turning onto her side to face Natty. "Can’t blame him. I'd stare too."
And god knows you are, helpless to resist as you sit back and stare at both of their bodies, knowing fully well they want you to.
You make it through coffee and breakfast, which in actuality is really brunch given the time—something quick, light, and enough to satisfy your hunger. It's a quiet moment that passes while little gets said, the three of you eating on the freshly-changed sheets with little sips of bitter coffee to help wash it down.
You should have known it wouldn’t be nearly this peaceful.
Julie wastes little time once plates and cups are thrown away, setting the empty tray outside. Coming back in, you're not given a chance to put your phone down before she's bent over and between your legs, boxers pulled off and tossed somewhere in the room.
Little you can do but enjoy this position she's put you in, legs spread while she bobs her head so greedily down your length—lips far down the base with her cheeks hollowed out and her gaze staring straight at yours. Natty's right there too, kneeling beside Julie with that little thong of hers that shows off how good her ass looks as she gives all the spanks deserved, mostly kneading at both cheeks, playing with the soft flesh that feels so good to squeeze.
"Hey, Natty?" Julie asks after she pops off, lifting her head up as she takes a long drag up your cock. "I think I quite like our boytoy."
"Our? What makes him yours all of a sudden?" Natty asks, continuing her massage of that full ass and bringing a slap down against the velvety flesh of her cheeks that makes you jolt up into Julie's mouth.
"Well, for starters, he loves when I do this," she responds, flashing that cheeky grin as she swallows you to the base yet again, tongue rubbing against that throbbing underside of your shaft as it's shoved down without restraint.
"You're not keeping him for yourself. Find your own, you greedy little slut." And Natty sounds so fucking offended, with another swat echoing in the air alongside Julie's moan around your cock. You can't tell what's better.
"I'll share—" is all Julie has to offer before Natty cuts her off with another harsh blow to her ass, one that makes her cry out loudly around you.
"Heard that before. I'll let you have him whenever you're around, but that's it—if you're lucky you can use his dick every other weekend."
"What am I, a library book you can loan to each other or something?"
"Exactly!" The two speak together in perfect sync. Another loud, wet pop, a tongue dragging along the swollen head of your cock as Julie locks that eye contact, swallowing you back down.
“Have to admit, Jules—you look real good sucking his dick,” Natty sighs. Her hands sink back down to Julie's full ass, squeezing possessively as she gets her fingertips in nice and deep. Your hips buck helplessly, almost on autopilot at the sensations.
Julie finally manages to break off just to respond, but not without leaving several sloppy kisses and needy licks across the head of your cock, lips pressed flush against the glistening shaft as she continues to work.
"What can I say? I'm a professional," she answers, lips latched on your balls as she jerks your throbbing shaft. "Can't help myself. He tastes fucking delicious."
"That's great and all, but still not sharing. This weekend's been fun but come Monday, it's back to normal."
"And if I just so happen to want him when you're stuck in class, Nat? What are you gonna do then?" Julie teases, dragging a few more lingering licks up your length that drive you crazy. "When you're in chem class and I'm on my knees, with him blasting a huge fucking load all over my pretty face? What if you're too busy to stop me?"
You're only caught up on the visuals Julie's trying to create. Imagining her like this on her knees and begging to be covered, smiling, tongue out while Natty is stuck learning about chemical reactions.
Natty knows Julie can't be tamed, no matter what.
"Then you better do a good job of emptying his balls when I'm not around, whore. Got it?"
"Jesus, do you two ever shut up, for like two seconds? Maybe I'll ask the front desk if there's anyone in need of a fuck, someone a little less high maintenance." The look on Natty's face says all that's needed—and yet she can't come up with a retort either, and not with her best friend grinning up at her with your cock still pressed right against her cheek.
"As if you could ever find anyone else as hot as us," Natty says with the confidence you would expect. "With a big, thick cock that keeps us satisfied the way we deserve to be."
You roll your eyes as she speaks, Julie already going back down as if on cue, lips wrapped around you, eager for more. "Nat's huge tits and my fat ass, we make the perfect team. Face it, boytoy. You're stuck with us."
That's when Julie gets a bit too greedy, inhaling every inch until her lips can't take any more. Her way of convincing you , perhaps, and you can't say it isn't effective with the way she sucks harder—like she's not going to pull off until you're ready to agree.
Stuck with the two most gorgeous, insatiable women possible hardly sounds like a terrible fate. Most of your time gets spent balls deep inside Natty the majority of the time regardless—and now when she's not riding the fuck out of you, there’s Julie to enjoy in the meantime.
With a big fuck you to Tumblr, I hereby present my
New Masterlist Structure (NMS)!
The NMS includes this post as the Main Masterlist Hub. Because I can only have 100 Links in one post (really Tumblr, fuck you) and because my desktop Masterlist literally broke (fuck you, Tumblr), I decided to split up my Masterlist into these three parts:
One-Shot Masterlist
Series Masterlist
IZ*ONE Masterlist
Click on the links to find out more about the NMS and where each fic/series/group/idol is! Most of it should be self-explanatory, but you can ask me in my DMs/asks any time if something is wrong/confusing!
Below this gorgeous pic, you can find most of my fics, especially the most recent ones. The NMS has links where you can find the oldest fics in order by release. Check it out for some old goodies!
Here is a random link to a bias-tier-list, almost fresh and new lol! btw: I have written 40 groups and 108 different idols as of April 2024
Heejin's life had changed a lot in such a short span. Winning the lawsuit against her former company, reuniting with her old boss, joining a new group, and getting a new solo were all things that happened to her in under a year. But no memory became more ingrained in her mind than her trip to the beautiful Greek islands of Santorini. Heejin's time in the archipelago could only be described as something straight out of a movie, starting with the moment many people asked her and Jinsoul if they were a married couple due to their matching white dresses that caught people's attention. Filming season's greetings on a Greek island for a group named after a Greek goddess was the perfect fit after all.
Today was one of the couple of free days her group had to enjoy Santorini before heading back to Korea. Haseul, Jinsoul, Kim Lip, and Choerry all went out right in the morning, but Heejin opted to stay in the lodge the group was staying in at the top of one of the many hills of Santorini, intending to enjoy the pool and relax. She took her orange bikini, sprayed plenty of sunscreen on her body, and laid in one of the chairs poolside. Her body was glowing under Helios. Heejin had never felt so confident before, just deciding to spend the whole day playing in the pool by herself, enjoying being all alone in such a cozy and spacious lodge with no eyes watching her.
Heejin loved the total privacy she was getting that day, so much so that she started getting bolder and thinking of things she had never done before. As the hours passed by, she stripped herself naked, laid on the chair, and just closed her eyes, taking a nice and relaxing nap with her bare body on display. However, she would suddenly be disrupted by some noise.
A shocked Heejin rushed to cover her intimate parts as she saw a man repairing one of those classic white-painted houses in Santorini, panicking at the thought of him seeing her naked. She wasn't told anyone was going to make any repairs close to the lodge, unleashing her anger at the man. "What are you doing? Stop looking at me, you pervert. What are you waiting for? Get out!" Heejin furiously yelled. The man climbed down the stairs as Heejin covered her boobs with her left hand. "Are you crazy?" he asked. Indeed, you had the right to be shocked much more than her, as you definitely weren't expecting your little job you got in Santorini during tourist season to deliver such an awkward experience as seeing a naked East Asian woman yelling at you.
Heejin looked petrified, biting her nails as her cheeks turned red out of embarrassment. But her naughtier side was also looking at the sights of a muscular guy whose body seemed sculpted by the gods Greece is so famous for. She thought of the whole scene all night, struggling to sleep. Heejin's thoughts were divided between feeling embarrassed for being seen naked or for her rude behavior towards the guy. As a new day arrived, Heejin surprisingly decided to stay at the lodge once again. "I'll catch you later," she told her groupmates, as her day started like the previous one, but this time with a major headache that permeated her thoughts.
Heejin walked towards the same place where the man was doing his repairs yesterday. Her heart raced the moment she saw you shirtless working on that beautiful house. She set her sights on you, watching how you perform your craft before heading in your direction. "Excuse me?" Heejin asked. "I'm here to say I'm sorry for yesterday; I wasn't aware someone would be in the vicinity," she continued. You didn't say a word to her, pretending not to understand what she said. A saddened Heejin just ended up walking back to her lodge as you kept working.
But she wasn't going to give up easily. Heejin decided she was going to bring the guy she had a crush on by any means. A goddess always gets what she wants, especially the goddess of love and beauty. Heejin found the company the repair guy worked for and sent them a request for work in the lodge. You felt dreaded when you got the call, as you knew it was the address from the woman who had rudely yelled at you, but you had to do the job. But as you arrived at the door and rang the bell, no one was there to answer.
For a moment, you almost thought it was a prank. What if that mad East Asian woman just wanted to take revenge on you for ignoring her? Knowing your company had a 30-minute tolerance policy, Heejin made you wait for nearly the whole time while she was inside the lodge, enjoying you desperately ringing the doorbell multiple times to no avail. She got herself ready, and just as time was about to expire, a familiar silhouette appeared at the door, wearing just a black robe as if she had just gotten out of the shower.
Heejin slowly dropped the robe as she walked through the door, unveling the same body that caused the whole scuffle a day ago. Up close, she was even more stark, beautiful from top to bottom, a goddess-esque beauty. As she walked the final steps towards the door, you could only contemplate every single part of her: her perfect hair, her lustful eyes, her small nose, her cute lips, her sexy collarbones, her perky little tits, her flat belly, her bare legs, and, most importantly, her tight trimmed pussy. Your eyes just moved involuntarly at this point, going toe to head, head to toe, multiple times as if they were looking at the incarnation of a goddess.
"You're crazy," was your first reaction as you smiled. Heejin laughed. "No, I'm Aphrodite," she replied, putting her right hand on your neck as she kissed you. The goddess of love, lust, beauty, passion, pleasure, and most importantly, procreation. Heejin took the initiative from the start, unbuttonning your shirt as she kept kissing you. As she fully took your shirt off, you pushed her body closer to yours, giving her your most passionate kiss yet and running your left hand into her ass.
Heejin placed her hands on your torso and shoved you in the direction of the pool where your first meeting had happened. For a girl of her size, she was surprisingly strong, to the point that you were starting to believe she was indeed a goddess. Once you two had reached poolside, Heejin shoved you once again, this time towards not a regular pool chair but a whole king-size bed waiting for the two of you. The bed wasn't there at any moment previously, serving as a gift from the gods to their little Aphrodite. You looked at her perfect body as you lied on it, the remaining clothes on your body vanishing the moment your back hit the mattress. Heejin slowly climbed on it, crawling on top of your body as she gave you more kisses.
Her smile was beautiful and had you at your weakest every time she showed it. Her mouth sucked yours in a way resembling that of a soul eater. Heejin moved down your body and licked your still flaccid shaft for the first time, instantly turning it into a hard, throbbing, erected pole. You tugged her hair as you watched her lick it, groaning as she closed your eyes and delivered a tongue sweep of your tip. Heejin laughed as you reacted to it, repeating the move a few times before inserting it in her warm mouth, sucking it slowly while softly grabbing the base with her left hand. Her eyes full of lust looked at you as she now had both hands working her magic on your dick, using the right hand to stroke it hard while the left one still held the base.
Heejin now moved faster, turning a quick succession of blowjobs into her first deepthroat of your instrument. She had you on the edge from the start, continuing to rapidly suck it with little care if you were going to last for long. She treated your cock like a lollipop, making pop sounds as she put it in and out of her mouth and slapping it on her model-esque face and her sexy tongue. You couldn't resist her fast-paced blowjob for long as you started thrusting upwards to pound her throat. Heejin just took the hands of your cock and enjoyed your attempt to reach the depths of her mouth, trying to take as long as she could before inevitably gagging as she coughed on your penis.
Right after, Heejin gave you another smile and went back to her quick sucking ways before climbing on top of you while never keeping her hands out of your cock, stroking it fast and hard. Another fast and sloppy blowjob followed suit, and then you slowly guided her head in and out of your shaft, hearing the sexy popping noises every time her mouth pulled out of it. You gave her a pair of facefucks that made her cough once more before you too were competing to see who was faster: her hands stroking down your cock or your cock hitting Heejin up her mouth.
"I wanna ride your cock," Heejin whispered to your ear as she got it ready with hard strokes that had you throbbing harder than ever. You laid your back on the bed and watched her body cover the sun on top of you before moving to a straight position where she started grinding her entrance on your shaft. "Yeah, yeah," she softly moaned as her folds rubbed the sides of your pole. Heejin moaned the hardest when your tip hit her clit, as you held your cock firmly by the base for her to better grind on it, moving it a bit forward as she started going up, in such a way that once she went down, Heejin now had it fully inserted in her pussy.
"AHHHHHH," Heejin moaned beautifully as you filled her insides. Her ride was very slow, but she could take it deep from the start. Her moans after the first were soft and out of breath; her open mouth and closed eyes looked so visually pleasing as she bounced on your cock. "Oh, fuck, fuck. Oh God, you're so huge," she continued as she spread her legs and you ran your hands in her sexy thighs. At first, you just passively enjoyed it and let Heejin do all the work, moaning at each thrust, before joining in and pounding her from below as well. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Heejin moaned quickly before she regained her composure and increased the speed of her ride.
"Yes, rub my clit, touch my pussy," she said as you reached your left hand into her genitals. Now Heejin's ride had reached a new level as your thumb poked her clit while she kept bouncing. "Harder," you asked her, leading to more rapid moans as she picked up the pace. Heejin put her hands on your chest and moved closer to you as you took the opportunity to kiss her while giving her pussy fast and hard poundings that quickly had her screaming, leading Heejin to react with a laugther as she coped with the sudden heat in her hole. She kept herself collected and switched to a slower pace, firmly scratching her nails on your chest and kissing you before going back to her original straightening position, keeping her body away from you and leaving you as just a spectator for her pleasure.
"Such a nice big cock; make me feel it deep," Heejin ordered in whispers as she continued to ride it. Her moans increased the tune; a few ahs were replaced by many yeses, and finally a loud "OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK" that she screamed as if she were singing a high note. You tried once again to take advantage of her and pounce, but she was ready and just moved a little forward to keep moving as if nothing had happened. You tried to put your hands on her neck, but that didn't slow her down at all, having the opposite effect as she made sure you would now groan at each bounce.
"OH MY GODDDDD," Heejin finally showed some vulnerability, and you were finally able to strike, hitting her cunt fast and deep as her mouth opened to the fullest with her body tilting towards your chest and her screaming her lungs out right at your left ear. Heejin clings to you as you grab her from behind, and you too have a romantic makeout. She switches sides as she now faces the beautiful Aegean Sea in the background. "Yes, please give me your cock," she demands, ready for a new round of riding, but not before you slap it multiple times on her thorbbing vaginal lips, playing hide and seek with your shaft, eventually resting it under her ass as she grinds her folds on it once more. She moans as your tip goes in and you spread her cheeks for another ride, starting slowly before you spank her ass and ask her to go harder.
Heejin obliges, and with her body fully lined up against yours, she furiously rides your dick, giving you no rest whatsoever. Heejin may be the goddess, but now she's the one worshipping your divine cock. "Come on, faster," you demand of her with a big spank in her ass. Heejin goes harder, bouncing on you like a maniac as you now grab her by the waist. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" she screams the moment you put her ride to a halt and attack her cunt full speed, only stopping to slap her butt before you give her pussy another fast attack to the point your cock slips out of it. After this burst gets you tired, Heejin now tops you with her toes on top of her thighs, but you quickly answer back, making her cute little feet tremble as you shake her base. "DON'T STOP," she demands as you give her your biggest strike, making her skin red as she gets out of breath and recoupling herself with a slow and passionate ride aftewards as you suck her perky little tits.
"My clit yes, please," she says once again as you duck your hands under her entrance and fingers her with your penis still inside her stretched babyhole. "Yeah," Heejin moans as you circle around it, even touching your own shaft in the process. Your movements now increase as you make sure to stimulate the whole surface of her clitoris. The way she still manages to bounce on your dick makes it even hotter. Her pussy gets wetter as you increase the stimulation and attack her insides with your cock once again, just resting her head down in the bed as her cunt gets destroyed. Her ass gets slapped once more as you pull out of her and let her now take turns giving you a hot ride with her body tilted to her left before taking yet another massive pounding that makes her cheeks clap, spreading her ass as you strike once more and make her let out crying-esque moans.
Overwhelmed by your length, Heejin has to slow down. And wow, she really loves the cowgirl position, taking you once again on it, but this time in reverse, putting her hands on your belly as you look at her sexy back and soft ass, but not before doing her classic pole-grinding moves on your dick. "OHHHH," you groan. "AHHHH," she groans as your cock goes back inside her tight little slit. This time, Heejin goes for a very elongated ride, almost taking your cock completely out of her pussy at the top. "Slow and deep, slow and deep," she repeats to herself, already out of breath and giving out angelic moans each time she reaches the bottom of your massive member.
"Yes, rub my pussy just like that," Heejin demands as you return to stimulate her folds, catching her by surprise to the point your cock slips out of her hole, which Heejin quickly corrects. "Keep going, keep going; work your hands in my beautiful goddess pussy," she says. You give Heejin no rest, plowing her pussy fast with both hands now on her clit, spreading it wide open for the whole world to see as her juices coat your cock. Her clit is now harder than your dick, and her nipples are fully erect as she lets out more soft screams as you take her over the moon with your fast-paced poundings.
You pull out and keep teasing her erogenous zones, circling around her nipples and rubbing your tip on Heejin's throbbing clit before putting your cock back inside her. "Shit, yes, yes, yes," she says as you give her little pumps that hit her insides, before increasing the pace as you grab her legs. "Oh, you fuck me so good!" she exclaims, her little tits bouncing at each fucking. "Rub this pussy," you order her as she starts frenetically rubbing her clit. "Please make me cum," she says as her legs clench and she lacks the strength to continue riding before recomposing herself and taking it slowly, giving your tip a great treat as it hits the hood of your clit. Heejin changes her motion with long and deep bounces at moderate speed before you start clapping your balls hard in her entrance.
"Oh, please eat my pussy; just eat my pussy," she says as she sits it on your face with her hands on your belly. "Ride my face," you order her as Heejin starts to move, holding hands with you as you lick her hard-pounded cunt. "Good boy," she praises you as she goes down for the 69, taking it deep until she coughs and spits on your penis. You slap her ass a bit, as she now has her mouth full of your balls, going fast on your dick and slapping it on your tongue. You fuck her face hard on top of you, to which she laughs, as you now grab her perky tits as well. Heejin jerks off your cock more before she gives another order. "Please fuck my mouth," she says.
You grab Heejin's hair, tying it up so her beautiful face doesn't have anything standing between it and your big cock. You start slow as Heejin also bobs her head. It turns out her mouth isn't her pussy, as an upside-down Heejin coughs all over your cock and struggles to even take it halfway in. She tries to adjust, but a quick pounding already has saliva flying all over her mouth as she bubbles on your dick. Heejin tries to smile, but she is clearly overwhelmed, instead getting on her knees and gently jerking your cock as she gives you a cute kiss.
"Fuck me from behind," she tells you as you get out of bed. Her pussy looks very stretched out and extremely wet as you spread her cheeks. Like usual, you rub your thobbing tip on Heejin's similarly thobbing inner lips and insert it first just to tease her before pulling it out. It seems like the entire blood of Heejin's body now flows to her cunt, as just a simple touch in her vaginal area makes her moan. You continue to tease her with the tip-fucking, not committing your full length, as just a quarter of your cock inside makes her scream.
As Heejin lets out her first laugh in a while, you insert your cock halfway in, still giving her slow pumps. "Such a nice ass," you praise her bottom assets, still treating her pussy gently, especially in comparison to what you did early on. But you can't resist for long, inserting it fully back on Heejin's wet pussy, leading to another scream as she reaches peak sensitivity, closing her legs and pushing your cock out of her hole. Heejin now just closes her eyes, trying to stay on her knees as you slowly fuck her slit once again. But every deeper thrust makes her lose it. You grab her cheeks as you increase the pace before deciding to use no hands and getting into rhythm. Heejin puts her head on the bed and keeps her eyes closed. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she rapdily repeats as you push harder, even squeaking a little.
You couldn't resist for long, now firmly grabbing Heejin's ass and clapping her cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes, please, please, please," she begs. Her small tits bounce a lot. At this point, you two were just exploring every possibility. As Heejin got a little less sensitive, she was now the one rocking her hips against your crotch, which ended up being bad for her as you just grabbed her butt and reasserted your dominance. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed once more as her tits were once again jiggling. Heejin held your right hand as the fire continued to burn inside her pussy; she no longer had any strength to resist your advances, just clinting to you as you destroyed her cunt nonstop, and only AHs came out of her mouth now.
Heejin turned around and opened her legs for you to eat her out; her messy hair now had untied itself and hit her eyes. You lick her like ice cream, starting at her hole and going all the way up to her little trim, before diving into her clit and making her twist. Heejin put her right foot on your back to support herself as you continued to lick her before inserting a finger in her pussy and tasting it. Now you were tonguing her clit hard to the point where she squirted a little in your mouth. You increased the hit by adding a second finger while still licking it. Heejin fell weaker, pressing her foot harder against your back as your tongue turned her folds wetter for the final round.
"Breed me. Put a baby inside a goddess; I know you want it, she told you as she put her right leg up and you slowly fucked her in missionary. You put her right foot in your mouth as you went faster. Heejin fingered herself as she waited for your cum; her insides were extremely sensitive. "Fuck me like this," she asked you as you two kept going. Your thrusts got faster but shallower as you kissed her beautiful feet and rubbed her belly. Going faster, you put Heejin under a mating press, which she enjoyed a lot, meaning she was going to get inseminated the same way the whores from the many hentais she loves to read are. Despite that, she still managed to finger herself. "Give me your cum; give me your cum," she demanded as you groaned and got closer. "Cum in my pussy," she continued, as you eventually unleashed inside her womb with your cock balls deep in her, coating her insides with your sperm as some rolled out a little while you pulled out and teased her clit for one final time with your tip.
"Wow, I can't believe you came inside me," Heejin said. "I can't say no to a goddess," you said as you returned home. The following day, you went back to the lodge but found it empty. It turns out Heejin and her ARTMS groupmates had already flown back to Korea.
Meanwhile, on the plane...
"Heejin, are you okay?" Haseul asked, sensing her groupmate's sickness. "Sorry, I'm a little sick. I think I drank too much last night when we went out," Heejin replied as she barely had time to finish her sentence, unhooking her seatbelt and rushing to the plane's bathroom, where she threw up the food she had just eaten.
categories: smut, threesome, oral, anal, ass-eating, drunk sex
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There were worse places to be than the neon-lit club that was just a little too loud. It served as a decent backdrop, and the drinks weren’t bad if not a bit too watered-down. You swirled your overpriced drink and watched the way the ice cubes collided, and after a few, the heavy bass grew to be less of a problem.
These types of places weren't your thing, but you didn't mind being here if the company was right, and tonight it certainly was. Jiho to your left, and your beneficial friend Arin had been sitting on your lap all night, while you hid away in a small booth in the corner away from the rest of the noisy crowd.
"You look bored," Arin said, as she smiled sweetly and cupped your face. She wore a light blue sweater and tight jeans that showed her cute tummy whenever she lifted her arms in excitement.
"I am bored," you replied, and downed the rest of your drink while you could. Arin's lips had been on yours for most of the night, but as good as your drink tasted—Arin tasted much better. Thankfully, Jiho didn't mind, nor did she complain once about your constant lip locking.
"What do you wanna do then?" Arin asked, looking exceptionally pretty with her face flushed as the alcohol traveled through her body.
"Dunno," you said and looked over to Jiho, who wore a dark red jacket over a plain white crop top and jeans, who said little, and Arin had a certain glint in her eyes.
"I could… you know," Arin paused, her expression suddenly mischievous as her tone grew hushed. "If you're so bored, I could suck you off real quick," she said in a not-so-subtle manner, with a smirk on her lips. Jiho couldn't believe what she heard.
It wasn’t like Arin was serious. Sure, there wasn't really anyone around, and if Arin bent over the right way, it would be difficult to see what she was doing, especially if Jiho helped block the view. Ultimately, it wasn't worth getting caught, and you didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Even if Jiho was used to your shenanigans, there were still limits.
"You wouldn't mind, would you, unnie?" Arin asked, with the most playful smile etched on her face. The two were best friends, inseparable and shared secrets, clothes, and much more—but there were limits to how far that friendship went. Jiho covered her mouth.
"You know I'm kidding, I wouldn't do that in front of you.” Jiho sighed a sense of relief.
“Unless you wanted me to,” Arin added. Jiho wasn’t used to this level even after a couple of drinks. She was always the more innocent of the two, blushed at the thought.
“I think I need another drink,” Jiho said, who rose to her feet. She needed to hit the bar, desperate to get away from the awkward situation.
Arin couldn’t help giggling. “Hold on, unnie.” Jiho sat back down, but not without some caution. She knew Arin was always up to no good. “We should probably get out of here. It’s getting a little late, and this isn’t the most exciting place.”
Finally, something Jiho could agree on. It was time to call it a night. “Well, I had fun. I’ll see you two out?” Jiho asked. But like always, Arin had a scheme up her sleeve. It didn’t help that being drunk always made her extra flirty. “Unnie… come with us.”
You shared the confused look in Jiho’s eyes.
“Come home with us. Let’s have some real fun.” Arin tried to be subtle this time, but Jiho knew better and looked around nervously.
“I-I should just go home. I think I’ve had a little too much to drink,” Jiho said, who evaded eye contact.
“We’re all a little drunk, aren’t we? We can share a cab to my place if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
Jiho hesitated. “I wouldn’t, but I like my own bed.” Arin knew she was just making excuses.
"Come on, it'll be fun," Arin insisted, rubbing Jiho's leg. Under normal circumstances, it was hard to resist Arin, but drunk Arin was something else—her charms escalated, and her puppy-dog eyes had a power that could sell ice to an Eskimo.
Arin kept her gaze firm on you until she switched her attention to Jiho. "When was the last time you got some action?"
Neither you nor Jiho were ready for such a question out of left field. “Arin!”
The abrupt question stunned Jiho. "Unnie, I know it's been a while since you talked about anyone. Toys can only do so much..."
Drunk Arin did not have a filter.
"I-I don't keep track of that. It's not something I really think about." Jiho was a terrible liar, and Arin could pick up on it immediately.
"What do you think? Would you mind if I shared you?" Arin asked. It wasn't a question that was expected, but it wasn't one that needed thought, as a quick look to your left to check out Jiho's alluring body for a quick second made your fantasies run wild.
"No, I don’t."
“I knew you wouldn’t. Let’s get out of here then.” Jiho nodded after some initial hesitation, unsure of what she was getting herself into. Ultimately, she accepted, and one last round of shots sealed the deal.
The look on the taxicab driver’s face was a mixture of confusion, worry, and perhaps a bit of jealousy as three drunken idiots stumbled into the backseat, laughing maniacally as Jiho bonked her head on the ceiling on the way in.
“Oppa, oppa, I have a question—” Arin said, her syllables slurred when her bright eyes lit up.
“What?”
“Do you think Jiho-unnie is good at giving a blowjob?” Drunk Arin really didn’t hold back anything.
“I’m sure she’s great at it. Even if she’s not, you’ll help her out, won’t you?” Arin cutely nodded repeatedly, and Jiho had never looked so embarrassed, as her cheeks had turned beet red. She regretted this already.
Thankfully, for both you and the cab driver, the ride wasn’t long, and you tipped extra. When you arrived at Arin’s place, you didn’t even know how long you had been out—it could have been past midnight, or six in the morning.
After a few failed attempts at entering her door code, Arin finally keyed in the right one, but not without a few snickers from Jiho, who returned her ribbing. Even turning the light switch on seemed to be a bit of a struggle—both Arin and Jiho stumbled around and almost toppled over trying to take their shoes off, which only made their uncontrolled drunk laughter louder as they held onto each other for dear life. It was a good thing Arin’s place didn’t have stairs.
Arin grabbed Jiho’s hand and not yours, and led her to the bedroom, which didn’t bother you one bit, because it allowed you to watch them from behind and stare at their swaying asses in tight jeans—it was like every step they took froze in time.
Somehow, the three of you found the bedroom without falling, but it was you who turned on the light switch this time. The bed became a sudden anchor, something to cling on to, as three tipsy bodies flopped on the mattress.
“You smell so good,” Arin said, as she nuzzled her nose into your neck. You were pretty sure you just smelled like alcohol and sweat, but you weren’t one to refuse a compliment.
“But you smell better.” After you leaned down and caressed Arin’s hair, you took a whiff of her apple-scented shampoo, and felt energized.
Eager to get started, Arin planted her soft lips against yours. She leaned over and made the first move and kissed Jiho, then returned to your mouth, making sure there wasn’t anyone left out of her exchange of saliva. Arin mouthed words that couldn’t quite be made out, but the foreign pair of lips you soon felt after told you everything necessary to know as Jiho made her advance and kissed you.
Jiho had such a distinct and flavorful taste, and her sultry gaze was something you could have drowned in. The intensity in her eyes matched the intensity of her kiss.
“How does she taste, baby?” They were similar, but distinct enough to draw comparisons, like two sweet juicy fruits.
"Almost as good as you.”
Arin smiled in approval and went in for one more liplock on the older woman. Tongues wandered inside each other’s mouths, which tightened your pants while the hot and heavy make-out session unfolded in front of you. They weren't strangers to one another's mouths, and every move they made was perfectly choreographed—they loved putting on a show.
"Take your top off." Arin helped out and unfastened the buttons of Jiho's red top, and this gave a better view of her thin top that did a great job of outlining her breasts. Although Jiho was the older of the two, she had no objections following Arin's orders as she removed her jacket, then stripped the crop top off her body, which left her upper body in a black lace bra. The cleavage on display put a smile on your face, so did Jiho's exposed tight tummy.
"My turn." Jiho didn't make her wait as she removed the blue top from her body and mirrored her state of undress. They admired each other's bodies, hungry eyes roaming creamy skin. Arin fondled Jiho's clothed breasts, like they were her favorite playthings.
"Your body is amazing, unnie."
Jiho’s cheeks became a rosy hue, and suddenly became shy while Arin played with her tits. Being a passive viewer was driving you crazy, but Arin seemed to read your mind.
“Help me take his clothes off.”
Jiho still couldn’t help being shy, even while she was inebriated, but obliged her request with little hesitation. When Arin began unbuttoning your pants, Jiho removed your shirt, until they left you in just your boxers, with a bulge poking through. It wasn't fair that you were the only one half-naked, but they rectified at once. Arin unzipped Jiho's tight jeans, bent her over, and slowly peeled her jeans off her hips. Underneath was a simple pair of black panties that showed a hint of fleshy buttcheek and made your mouth water—you desperately wanted to sink your teeth into them.
"Look at this ass, baby. It's so tight and round," Arin said, while grabbing two handfuls to show and gave her a spank. You couldn’t agree more. Arin followed suit, and before you could blink, she had stripped the jeans off her tight body, and flaunted her plump butt that was barely covered in a skimpy pink thong.
Arin definitely had the better backside. Not that it was a competition. It was hard to not stare at her ass or the thong that barely covered her asshole that your tongue had licked so many times that it might as well have vacationed there.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Arin asked. Jiho wasn't sure. When you saw the intensity in her eyes that met your bulge, it only made the arousal in the room grow, and Jiho felt a wetness between her legs that couldn’t be ignored.
The innocence in her deep stare faded while she unwrapped the present Arin offered and yanked your boxers off, almost speechless and unable to take her eyes off your freed hard shaft.
“So big…” Jiho said with widened eyes, who kept staring at your cock, and found herself suddenly unable to think straight while she admired your length. She gripped your cock and caressed it, in love with the way it throbbed in her delicate hand while her slim fingers stroked it from base to tip, using only slow movements.
Not one to be left out, Arin laid down flat on the opposite side from Jiho and watched her pump your shaft up and down. “Taste it. He’s yummy.”
Jiho indulged right away. She flattened her wet tongue at the base of your shaft, and slowly licked up, moving in gentle swipes until she reached your sensitive cockhead and swirled around it.
“You’re right, it’s delicious.”
Arin was ready to do more than just watch. While Jiho ran her tongue down your length, Arin planted a deep kiss on the very tip of your cock, lapping up precum that had leaked already. They stared into each other's eyes and gave teasing licks on your sensitive tip. More fluid leaked from your dripping slit, and they put in the effort to explore every inch of your shaft.
“I love your cock, don’t you?” Arin asked. Jiho nodded, and the littlest touch made your cock twitch. Two wet tongues coated it in wet warm saliva, and two sets of puckered lips ran along either side of your hard shaft, working in tandem, and mirrored every movement. With loud messy noises, they took turns and planted kisses up and down your shaft, intent on not leaving a single spot on your cock untouched by their wonderful soft lips.
“Do you want to suck his cock first?” Arin asked. Her wet pink tongue continuously played with your swollen tip, and she knew all the sweet spots on your shaft, and knew just where to lick to cause the most endless pleasure.
Jiho just nodded enthusiastically, too busy to answer while she licked your shaft—she craved more, an insatiable hunger for cock she didn’t know she had. “I’d love to.” The smile on her face had never been bigger, widening as she delivered more sweet kisses on your cock and licked her lips in anticipation.
It was a surprise how loud you moaned when Jiho took you into the warmth of her pretty mouth—the feeling of a new pair of lips was most refreshing. Jiho’s initial sucking felt so heavenly, some of the softest pair of lips you had ever felt on your cock—not as soft as Arin’s, but not far off.
Slow and sensual was Jiho’s goal here, which was a pleasant contrast to Arin’s usual sloppy blowjobs. Jiho had experience in the oral department. Despite only sucking the tip of your cock, she was doing a wonderful job. Arin couldn’t stay idle for long.
Arin watched Jiho’s lips at work for one more moment before she dipped her head down, licked your balls repeatedly, then tenderly sucked on them, alternating with loud sensual pops.
“God, that feels good,” you moaned, unable to decide which mouth felt better, not that it mattered as it lost you in the extreme euphoria. With satisfied looks on their faces, they continued their double oral assault—Arin slurped on your balls and doused them with drool, and Jiho’s wet lips pushed down to the halfway point as she bobbed her head in a rhythm.
“I think it’ll feel better when I’m sucking your cock,” Arin said. Her cute nose nuzzled at the base of your cock, her warm heavy breath as she swiped her tongue across your sensitive balls. Jiho made eye contact with her, and in a fit of determination, pushed her lips deeper, almost to the base in response, but gagged as she did so.
“Careful, wouldn’t want you to choke. You should train your throat first to take something so big,” Arin said. She loved gloating.
“But I think I enjoy choking on his cock,” Jiho said, and you could hear the adoration in her voice as she pushed her mouth to the limit. Fully at your base, it stretched her throat. Jiho looked up at you with those amazing eyes full of lust until she couldn’t take it and withdrew with a loud gasp for air.
“Let me show you how it’s done,” Arin said, her dazzling eyes were wanton and rich with desire. She snatched your cock away from Jiho, spat on it several times, and stroked it furiously. Arin never was one to waste time, as she parted her lips and took your cock to the hilt with ease in one smooth stroke, with her silky lips sealed securely around each inch stuffed down her throat.
It was a grandiose move for sure, but it still left Jiho in awe, who felt pangs of jealousy. She completed the chain of powerful pleasure and latched her lips back to your balls, and suckled like it was her job.
“Fuck, that’s amazing.”
Once again, you felt sweet bliss by a dynamic duo of cock sucking. It wasn’t a competition, quite the opposite as they worked together, happy and willing to share your cock, yet still wanted to show how good they were at individually pleasing you.
Arin fell into the familiarity and moved in the usual sloppy movements. She slurped and drooled all over your cock, and bobbed her head frantically, while her tongue played with as much hard flesh as it could. Meanwhile, Jiho took her time, swapping between licks and sucks of your full balls, like she wanted them drained prematurely. The constant messy noises of hungry mouths only heightened the arousal. Your eyes closed instinctively—and when everything was dark, you focused on the lewd sounds of slurping, and hoped it wasn’t all an erotic dream.
Thankfully, it wasn't when your eyes opened back up, greeted by the view of two busy mouths slobbering on your shaft. “You must love this so much by the way you’re moaning. You like two sluts craving your cock so much?” Arin asked, who said little after but slurps after slurps.
“Hey!I’m not a slut,” Jiho denied, with negligible weight behind her words.
“Sure fooled me. Is that why it takes just a few shots for you to drop your panties?” More cute giggles erupted.
“But I still have my panties on—” Jiho said. Arin met her with a sudden lip smack, and the two shared the taste of your cock that lingered on their lips.
“Then maybe we should change that,” Arin said. Frantic suction followed dueling tongues as they swapped your cock between different warm mouths. It was a moment that you wanted frozen in time as much as they wanted you to experience one more majestic moment of euphoria before moving to the main event.
It was regrettable when your cock left their mouths, but they kept their lips on it as they kissed each other with your throbbing cock in between and nonstop drooled on it. "Unnie should have this inside her first," Arin said, and peppered your length with more wet cock kisses.
"But it's so big. Will it even fit?" Jiho asked, the nervousness on her face unavoidable.
"Of course it will. Eventually." Arin couldn’t stop her giggles. "You can get on top of him, so you can ride his cock and take as much time as you need."
"O-okay," Jiho said. She wasn’t confident, but she constantly stared at your cock and imagined how it felt. Thoughts of arousal filled her body, but she had never had something so big inside her.
"Where do you want me, baby?" Arin asked. With your cock preoccupied, there weren't many options.
"Sit on my face." Arin loved the idea. You got into a more comfortable position, and Arin and Jiho unfastened their bras, slipped their panties off, then tossed them away. Delicate hands roamed each other's naked bodies as you looked on in astonishment. Two flawless goddesses gifted with the most amazing hips, thighs, and midriffs that you wanted to spend hours exploring.
Jiho had never felt more eager as she straddled your lap, gripped your cock, and lined it up with her dripping wet heat. Lust and desire filled the room, especially between Jiho’s spread legs as she toyed with your cock, almost hesitant to take it inside her.
“You can handle it,” Arin reassured. Jiho nodded, lifted her wide hips up and sank down on your cock, but stopped just past your tip.
“Oh fuck, he’s so big...” Jiho felt her pussy being stretched, and loved every sensation. She moved little-by-little. Arin waited for your cock to be inside Jiho, and lowered her round ass onto your face, until her pretty pussy was inches away from your mouth.
“Eat my pussy, baby.” Arin never needed to ask twice, and after while you savored her soft buttcheeks pressed against your face, you licked several slow stripes up and down her juicy cunt. Her pussy lips were so smooth, wet and delicious, an addicting taste that you never wanted to leave your tastebuds.
Arin tasted amazing—the most delicious thing that had been in your mouth, sweeter than any dessert, tangier than any candy. Arin’s taste and aroma infatuated you. Cute erotic moans escaped with every lick, but Jiho distracted you while she took more of your cock inside her tight warm hole, and found a steady rhythm to ride you with.
“How’s that feeling? Nice and deep inside your pussy?” Arin asked between gasping moans, while grinding her plump ass against your face. You needed more of her as your tongue frantically moved inside her pussy.
“So big, so fucking big. I love the way it feels inside me. I need it to rearrange my guts.”
“There’s nothing stopping you then, is there? Ride that fucking cock, make yourself cum on it.”
There was nothing but Arin’s wonderful ass in your vision. Jiho immediately changed up the pace, no longer taking inch-by-inch, but fully fucked herself on your cock and slammed down hard. Jiho loved taking your entire shaft.
“There you go, unnie, take it all. I love seeing his huge cock slide inside your pretty pussy.”
Jiho was so goddamn tight it almost hurt. Dripping walls gushed with arousal, and warmth flooded your cock.
It was regrettable not being able to see Jiho bouncing on your cock. You only heard the wet squelch of her cunt which made your cock grew slicker and slicker. Arin’s delicious cheeks slightly lifted off your face, and the smacking of lips crashing signaled another make-out session. It made you infinitely jealous
Muffled moans filled in what you couldn’t see. Tongues invaded mouths, small hands grabbed breasts, and fingers pinched, and played with swollen nipples, while steady moans filled the room.
Juices from Arin dripped down your face, while similar slick dripped down your cock. Wetness spilled down to your thighs.
Both your cock and your lips were drowning in wetness. Jiho had fucked herself delirious—you could feel her plump ass relentlessly bouncing on your shaft, but your focus was torn between the slickness warmth squeezing your cock, and Arin’s wet cunt you had buried your tongue in between as a trio of competing moans filled the room.
“Oh god, oh fuck, it feels so—it feels so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”
It took some time to figure out whose voice the sultry moans belonged to—both women had been moaning uninterrupted for what felt like hours, neck and neck to see who would achieve climax first, and it seemed like Jiho was about to come out on top—literally.
“Cum on his cock, unnie. Make a fucking mess all over it,” Arin urged, not that Jiho really needed any further encouragement, so close she could taste it. You wished you could have seen Jiho’s pretty face contorted in bliss, and the way her body bounced, but you settled for Arin’s soft cheeks on your face that you kneaded, while simultaneously you sucked on her clit.
Jiho mercifully came first—the shaking of her thighs rocked throughout the entire mattress, the pulsations of her warm dripping cunt never stopped, and her hips rocked back and forth so harshly until she turned into a puddle, desperate to release her euphoric bliss.
Arin was next, who had waited patiently and watched every second of Jiho’s bliss. It aroused her so much that she needed her own release, which came right at the harshest slurps of her clit. Arin cried in pleasure until she gushed on your face.
Tired and spent, the two crashed on the mattress, tiredly exchanging kisses once more. Words faded and turned in heaving gasps and pants.
“You didn’t cum yet, baby,” Arin said. Obvious disappointment was on her features.
“Not yet,” you replied, ending up between two tired, uncovered bodies that you ran your hands over. Naturally, since you had just been inside Jiho, it should have been Arin’s turn to feel your cock. But Jiho drew you in, and Arin had taken you in different positions, in unique locations. You needed more of Jiho’s luscious body, especially since your vision was blocked for it all.
“I want you to keep fucking her, baby.” Arin always knew what you were thinking. Jiho laid down comfortably on her back as you kissed her creamy thighs still covered in slick, then licked her pussy several times.
Still so sensitive she was that you regretfully removed your tongue. Such a distinct taste she had. You hoped there would be a time to savor her taste, but now—this time you wanted to fuck Jiho while looking directly into her eyes.
But before you did anything—you just stared at Jiho, and basked in the glory of her nudeness. Such a pretty face that competed with the visuals of Arin—her pale breasts were so round, her thighs so creamy and soft, and her midriff so goddamn tight you could eat off of it. Jiho was a perfect specimen.
“Fuck me,” Jiho impatiently said, as she spread her legs wide, and pushed two fingers inside her pussy. She withdrew them right away and showed off the messy clear liquid that dripped down. “I’m so wet, please fuck me.”
“Needy, aren’t we?” Arin asked, who turned on her side. “His cock is rather addicting. I don’t blame you.” Jiho was still too dazed from her orgasm to answer.
“Not as addicting as this tight pussy,” you said, and lined yourself up with her wet entrance. Arin smiled in return.
“I’m gonna love watching you pound her tight little pussy."
It was even more arousing that Arin watched your every move. Ready for more, you grabbed Jiho's luscious legs and lifted them into the air until her bare feet rested upon your shoulders. She gasped in surprise at your aggressiveness, a gasp that quickly became a long drawn-out moan as you slipped inside her welcoming pussy and filled her to the hilt. Were this the first time of the night to be inside Jiho, you would have given her a chance for adjustment, a chance to get used to the stretch—but that stretch was all too familiar now.
Arin didn’t waste time in enjoying the action. She slipped a hand between her thighs and touched herself while her role changed from an active participant to simply an observer.
Jiho held on to your biceps, and at first you took it slow—but the look in her eyes demanded the opposite. Happy to oblige, the pace quickened right away, and in no time flat you were pounding into Jiho’s tight little hole hard enough to shake the bed. You loved this position, and you were pretty sure she did too, if the way her pussy clenched was anything to go by. Thanks to her previous orgasm, Jiho was incredibly wet. Slick nectar coated your length, and it was effortless to fuck her like this, in a way that your cock reached the very depths of her cunt.
"Fuck, that feels so good, don't stop!"
Not that you ever would. It would be easier to cure world hunger than to stop fucking her. It was a a simple rhythm made easier by the wet squelch that came after every single thrust into her addicting warm cunt. Your faces were inches apart, and that short distance allowed you to see the pure unadulterated bliss in Jiho's eyes, bliss that never left and only grew the harder your hips moved.
Meanwhile, Arin had gone wild between her legs, moaning with fingers frantically fucking into her wet hole, almost frustrated that her pussy wasn’t stuffed in the same manner. But even as loud as the moans that came out of Arin's mouth were, they became background music with your focus shifting on drilling Jiho.
It was even easy to forget Arin was right next to you, squirming with fingers buried inside her pretty cunt, writhing on the sheets. The only thing you fixated on was Jiho's creamy pussy lips that you continuously parted and speared yourself into, and ever-present erotic moans that were music to your ears.
With arms wrapped around Jiho's amazing legs, you hugged them tightly and smacked your hips against her thighs. Silky flesh accommodated your length with every thrust. Sweat profusely misted your body and dripped down your forehead, two sweaty, needy bodies becoming one.
One quick look to your right was a necessary distraction you needed.
You could see a visible puddle of wetness underneath Arin, and the loud squelch of her cunt didn’t cease—she was two fingers deep, pinching alternating nipples. You wished you could have helped, but you were a little preoccupied with being balls deep inside Jiho. The constant heat and wetness that came from Jiho thankfully never stopped. The perfect sheath for your needy cock, the perfect warm hole you never wanted to leave.
It was down to the wire to see who would achieve climax first, even if it would be Jiho's second. You wanted to hold out just long enough. The constant pulsations of her drenched pussy were all routine now—the way her slippery walls squeezed the life out of your cock and how her luscious legs trembled. It only meant one thing—euphoric bliss that couldn't stop as she came without warning. Her toes curled, her head threw back and legs shook uncontrolled, and mouthwatering wetness gushed out of her warmth and spilled out after every rock of her body.
Time was not on your side. Not even a chance for a warning. The tension in your core was at its highest level. Swiftly, you pulled out from Jiho's dripping heat and stroked yourself to completion. Gorgeous eyes watched every movement you made, and you let out a series of groans while you fired thick spurts of hot semen. Shot after shot glazed Jiho's deliciously sexy tight tummy until it was a creamy mess.
Arin came again at the sight of Jiho’s midriff painted with your cum. "Oh fuck, fuck, oh fuck—" wetness jetted out of her cunt and added to the dark stained underneath her. The sheets wouldn’t be the same after this. Arin couldn’t stop shaking. It was an orgasm so extreme and so intense, as her fingers rubbed her swollen clit until the sensitivity forced her fingers away.
“So much cum…” Arin said, while she slowly came down from her high. She looked at the creamy mess left on Jiho's tummy, and couldn't help herself as she dragged her tongue across it. Arin slowly lapped it up little by little and cleaned up the thick, milky load. "And so so delicious."
Jiho shuddered breathlessly at the sticky warmth that coated her belly. Arin cleaned it all up before she played with the thick liquid and swallowed it down. Still insatiable, she moved south for a handful of teasing licks against Jiho’s sensitive center and licked her lips. "Unnie tastes so good too."
Arin needed more—she looked at your drained cock to make sure it had no plans of softening and brought it into her warm mouth, slowly sucking on your length. "You're not done with us yet, are you? I need more of this cum."
The look in Arin's cute eyes while she playfully stroked your cock strengthened your erection, and you were more than ready to go again—but this time you needed something more. A little cherry on top. "Bend over. Both of you." You knew exactly what you wanted.
What a perfect sight it was.
Pretty faces down into the mattress, bent over on hands and knees, and beautiful round asses raised in the air. You didn't know where to start. The bounty of booty in front of you was a delectable buffet, and the view of their dripping pink cunts and tight little assholes was enough to make your cock harder than a rock.
But it was impossible to choose when two delicious meals were on the table, but a choice had to be made. Arin’s delicious backside was the first on the menu—so full, so plump, and so beautifully shaped it was, like two squishy buns to knead forever. Jiho wasn’t lacking either, and had an ass equally worthy of devouring to your heart's content. Both were a treat.
You claimed your first prize. Arin’s ass you marveled at, and both hands spread her cheeks open, kneading them carefully. It was always a surprise how soft her skin was. Even while you had done this many, many times before, it never got old.
Tender kisses planted on either side of her cheeks, lips pressed to silky flesh—it all got Arin so worked up. That was before you went for the killing blow, and spread her ass wide, then teased her puckered hole with your tongue.
“Oh, oh god, fuck…” Arin whimpered and whined, and profanities escaped while you tongued her asshole and traced lazy circles around her rim. Those cute, desperate moans kept going, but there was no plan for anything more than a taste.
Despite wanting to spend eternity with your tongue buried in her perky tight butt, there was an obligation to please both women. After you regretfully withdrew, Arin whined, and you left her hole painfully empty, but still licked up her slit to leave her craving for more. It was time to indulge in your next meal.
Moving on, you approached Jiho’s ass with the same intentions; she deserved worship to the same degree as Arin, and the two goddesses deserved all the attention in the world.
You didn’t want to waste a second longer than necessary and went to work in the same way, alternating patterns of soft kisses followed by tender bites on her cheeks that were like two appetizing cakes to be savored.
Again, teasing was the game here as you spread Jiho's asscheeks and wanted the image of her bent over body burned in your mind forever. Small licks at first, to warm her up. You didn’t even know if anyone had done this to Jiho before, but the lewd noises of satisfaction surprised you. There were no objections. Quite the opposite while you licked Jiho’s asshole with the same amount of hunger and swirled your tongue around her hole—the perfect, delicious dessert to devour.
“H-holy shit—” Jiho’s cries of pleasure exposed how much she loved it. With your hands full of her plentiful ass, you shoved your face in between her cheeks, buried your tongue deep and gave Jiho the sloppy tonguefucking she deserved. Back and forth, your tongue went into her tight asshole that never resisted and only welcomed you in. It was a poor imitation of what you imagined your cock sinking into felt like, but if Jiho was this needy with your tongue, you couldn’t wait to fill the void with your hard, throbbing flesh.
And now, it was time for the main event.
The hardness of your cock couldn’t be exaggerated. It needed somewhere to go, somewhere to relieve the constant painful throbs, somewhere to find a new home. Two puckered holes presented for your pleasure that were desperate to be used, ruined, and stretched—but like before, the question was who was more deserving. Finding relief was the only answer you yearned for as you rubbed your needy cock between each set of pillowy cheeks, pondering which ass to pulverize first.
That decision came quicker than expected—an impatient Arin grabbed your cock and carefully guided it towards her needy, twitching asshole. Your swollen tip would never fit like this, even with her hole plenty rich with saliva from your ass-eating, but after copious amounts of lube, there wouldn't be a problem.
“Want it?” you teased, before you nudged your shaft with her tight back opening. Arin nodded several times, her eyes widening the more you pressed against her impatient hole.
“Want it so bad, please, stretch my tiny little asshole with your enormous cock!” Whenever you made Arin beg, your arousal only increased, and the desperation in her eyes plain as night always made it better.
The tables had turned, and Jiho was now an onlooker, who wanted a closer look and shifted to her knees. With hands on Arin’s luscious hips, you plunged slowly and entered her extra tight asshole, until your tip disappeared. Such a strong clench it was that it took your breath away.
“More,” Arin demanded, as you pushed more cock inside her tight ass that swallowed up your shaft. She didn’t need any adjustment, fully relaxed, and her clenching asshole was eager to take every last inch.
“So fucking tight, feels so good,” you groaned, taking careful movements until most of the length of your cock was present inside her hole.
"And you feel so good inside me. Now, stretch me, use me, do whatever you want to my ass, just please fuck me!” Arin pleaded.
“Needy little slut.”
“I’m your needy little slut. Now, destroy my slutty ass.”
There wouldn't be a more proper invitation than that. Arin let out a deafening gasp when every inch sank down to the hilt and filled her airtight. Such an overwhelming squeeze her warm little asshole gave, so staggeringly tighter than her pussy, which was already next level. Arin was more than used to your dick being shoved in the depths of her ass, but the thrusts that came next were faster and harder than expected, and made her moan louder than she had at any point in the night.
“My tight little asshole feels so full, so stuffed with cock, don’t stop! Pound me!"
It would be more than a pleasure to oblige her. Jiho had a front-row seat to the anal action that unfolded before her eyes, and like Arin moments earlier, she couldn't help but touch herself. Slim fingers now dripped wet with arousal while you used Arin as your favorite toy.
The iron grip you held on Arin’s hips tightened. More than enough to leave bruises on her delicate pale flesh, and like a train with no brakes, there would be no stopping the constant harsh thrusts. Unabated by lust, you only cared about pleasure as you slammed Arin’s plump that suffocated your cock, flesh rippling after each movement.
It was difficult to fathom just how tight Arin's asshole felt.
Arin shouldn’t be this tight—not after the countless times you pounded her relentlessly in this same manner. Yet her puckered hole felt like the first time you had slipped inside. It reminded you when you took her anal cherry, such an overwhelmingly tight and smothering feeling.
Erotic moans from both women filled your ears to encourage every rough thrust. Your balls smacked against the wet, sensitive flesh of Arin’s pussy, and the pace increased along the motion of your hips.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good! Don't stop using my tight little hole for your cock!”
Desperate cries were answered, and you kept Arin in the same bent-over position, but changed into a squat, spreading your legs slightly on either side. It gave easier access to her tight little gaped hole, and the rhythm of your thrusts matched her whimpering moans while you rammed into Arin with renewed fervor.
"Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Arin's repetitive moans grew and grew, and she desperately wanted more and slammed her ass back into your cock. Sweat dripped down your forehead, and you felt similar perspiration dowsing Arin's flushed skin as you continued to wreck her gaping hole and ran your hands up and down her sweaty back.
But as good as it all felt—and fuck did it feel good, it was only fair to extend the same pleasure to Jiho. Just a few more hammering thrusts and you withdrew, lamenting the emptiness already. Arin's hole was no longer puckered, but gaped wide and wanton for more. But she would have to wait.
If Arin couldn’t be filled, it would at least be the next best thing for her to watch. Essence stained the sheets. Delicate fingers played with Arin’s cunt while Jiho resumed the position and got back onto her hands and knees.
Once Jiho was ready, you couldn’t help but lick her asshole several more times. Fingers dug into soft flesh, before spreading her cheeks wide to bury your tongue deep. Lube soon replaced saliva, and your cock was ready for a new hole.
"Pound her harder. Until she can't even walk straight," Arin demanded. Jiho raised no objections and wiggled her ass against your hardness. You couldn’t help but smack your cock against her pillowy cheeks.
"Need that cock inside me," Jiho said, now the one begging for a pounding, begging to be filled. Her lust and desire wouldn't be denied. Carefully, you aimed your shaft against her asshole and tried to push inside. It was a surprising struggle, one that met much resistance from Jiho’s hole that clenched strongly. Perhaps Jiho had little experience, or maybe it had been a while, or not at all, as previously stated.
“Relax, unnie. Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Arin asked, who snaked herself underneath Jiho when she lifted her hips up. Arin’s adorable face stared up upside-down.
“O-of course! Plenty of times,” Jiho said, but her words didn’t convince either of you, just like earlier. “I’ve just never had something inside this… big.”
Arin giggled. “Unnie has been missing out.” Arin then offered help, grabbed Jiho’s buttcheeks, and kept them spread open. It was hard to keep restraint when you wanted to shove your cock all the way up Jiho’s clenched hole, but you didn’t want to hurt her. Patience was essential.
After some time, thanks to caressing hands, Jiho relaxed, and you entered her ass after several attempts. Loud gasps from all three participants escaped as a new snugness surrounded your shaft. Jiho was so damn tight back there you could barely move. Your swollen tip advanced ever-so-slightly back and forth, but her asshole just clenched tighter and tighter.
It became a pattern—slow thrusts stretched Jiho's little asshole slowly but surely, until she accommodated more of your length, and every inch that entered set her nerves on fire. Halfway in, and you felt it was almost impossible to fit more, but with a little more effort, you slid to the hilt and filled Jiho up with your balls resting against her pillowy cheeks.
“Fuuuck,” Jiho moaned, with hands tied up in the sheets. She loved the flesh being stuffed in her hole
Finally, you could thrust comfortably in between Jiho's scrumptious cheeks. Lustful moans vocalized while you began stretching her hole wider and found a senseless rhythm to take her ass.
"Doing okay?" you asked. Jiho nodded with enthusiasm, even though she felt like she was being split open. It was time to ruin her, time to fuck her into a senseless daze, the way you wanted from the moment you impaled her asshole. Your patience was thinning, hardly a modicum of self-control left, but thankfully Jiho looked back and flashed a lustful glance that meant you no longer had to hold back.
Right before your next thrust, Arin licked stripes around your balls, and the delicate flicking of her wet tongue brought out your carnal desires, so much so that your pumps grew much harsher and even faster. Jiho moaned in delight, and you knew you hit the right angle and all the right spots.
Too focused on the extreme tightness that hugged your cock, tender licks alternated between Jiho’s pussy and your sensitive balls. Arin loved adding additional stimulation and put her tongue to good use. What better time to give her a taste—Arin happily received your cock directly from Jiho's ass and sucked slowly on it, tasting every inch before you sheathed yourself back in the comforting warmth.
"Unnie’s ass is so yummy. Do you like that cock in it? It looks so good,“ Arin said as her tongue explored whatever flesh she could in her view.
“It feels amazing, so good, so deep. Fuck me harder!” Jiho pleaded. You were ready to go all in, and it was time to up the ante compared to the pounding Arin had taken.
It was hard to even know where to rest your hands, and what parts of Jiho you wanted to grab, so you settled for one hand on her hip, while the other roamed her body and squeezed one of her perky breasts. The ramming thrusts that came after were anything but gentle, and nothing but loud, needy groans made themself known between a chorus of ragged breaths.
Jiho had felt nothing like this. She had never felt her ass be this full. Jiho needed a distraction, anything to dampen the intense sensations of the hard shaft pounding into her constantly clenched hole—she dipped her head between Arin’s spread creamy thighs to return the favor and licked her cunt up and down, exploring every inch of pink sopping wet flesh. Arin moaned beautifully.
What a beautiful view. Jiho buried her tongue between Arin’s legs, and the younger one reciprocated. Hungry tongues danced in tandem in and around soaked pink flesh and exchanged pleasure.
Nobody was going to be left unsatisfied tonight.
By some miracle, Jiho's beautiful backside opened up to you, and her ass became almost as easy to piston into as her pussy—but you wouldn’t waste the opportunity to pound away, and made her hole even more gaped than Arin. All parties involved grew doused in sweat. Nothing more than a mess of limbs with the occasional squeeze of your full balls from Arin, who focused on delivering oral pleasure to whoever she could.
The pace had grown considerably faster from how you started. Jiho's lower body was now being used as an outlet for your intoxicating euphoria, and you were almost jealous of the writhing bodies underneath, pleasuring one another as the soundtrack of the bedroom became lewd slurps of clits being slurped on and delicious cunts being devoured.
You held Jiho firmly by her heavenly hips, the perfect place to keep her steady. Jiho’s thoroughly used ass welcomed each thrust and craved every smack of flesh against flesh that filled the room and rippled Jiho’s pale cheeks. Every so often you fed Arin your cock to keep her pretty mouth preoccupied, just to see how stretched Jiho’s puckered hole had gotten. It all enamored Jiho, how full her hole felt, kept open by the thickness of your cock. It obsessed Jiho with the sensations.
Sadly, it was all about to end. You couldn’t keep the pace up for much longer, because the raging fire in your core couldn't be put out. You were about to explode, and so were the beautiful moaning women below you. The melody of muffled moans was enough to fuel your final rapid plunges, and every clench of Jiho’s wrecked asshole brought you dangerously closer to sweet release.
"I'm cumming!" Unable to distinguish which was which, the two feminine voices blended together while their gasps of pleasure continued until they became shuddering, quivering messes and climaxed in unison. That muscular ring of flesh which occupied your cock gripped like a vice, and you also needed to burst.
"Me too! I'm close, where do you want—"
Arin answered for Jiho in a tired yet sultry tone. "In her ass, baby. Don't even think about doing it anywhere else. Fill her up." Jiho once again had no objections, and you were ready to unload everything you had into her.
The anticipation grew with every thrust, and after a gentle squeeze of your tender balls with Arin’s delicate fingers, it was enough to send you over the edge, into a frenzied burst of ecstasy. When your peak reached, needy moans left your lips as you buried your shaft to the hilt, and filled Jiho’s asshole that craved your load. Hot, thick spurts emptied into her ass, and her hole clenched harder and milked every drop possible until your cock filled Jiho to the brim.
“It’s so warm…I love how it feels,” Jiho said, with the biggest grin on her tired face. Regretfully, your high did not last as long as you wanted. With the last bit of energy you pulled out, and a torrent of cum leaked from Jiho’s properly gaped asshole and stained her thighs.
“All mine,” Arin said and greedily lapped up what had spilled out, then licked Jiho’s freshly fucked asshole. She cleaned Jiho up before she spread her cheeks wide and hungrily sucked out the rest of your fresh load and didn’t let a drop go to waste. Arin licked her lips, and a fresh new smile plastered her adorable features while she sucked your cock and polished every inch clean.
“Delicious.” Arin had never looked so satisfied.
Once the collective euphoria calmed down, you became sandwiched between their two sweaty, naked bodies, and you wondered again if this was all a beautiful dream. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Tired, still lustful eyes wandered back and forth between each other and you, waiting for the perfect moment to speak.
“Shower?” you asked, desperate to break the silence.
Arin shook her head. “Not yet. I love it when you’re all sweaty.” You smiled and did your best at fixing strands of Arin’s disheveled hair. It was safe to say they would both be a little sore tomorrow, something you felt a little pride in.
“I could go again,” Jiho suddenly spoke up. It was surprising coming from her lips, and Arin’s eyes shined with excitement.
“Then the shower can wait,” Arin said, and her sparkling eyes never left your view. “Because you’re still not done with us.”
It goes without saying that Karina’s reputation is flawless.
Irene’s is remarkably not.
You're not even staunchly a romantic or anything. You just can’t be assed to manage the distinction between desire and distance. So when the dust settles, the best case scenario is the three of you going around telling people, "all of this is actually a true story by the way."
-
You don't need the extra helping of moody and foreboding, but the wind picks up enough to chill you to the spot.
It blows some of the longer, darker strands of Irene's hair into her eyes and she shivers, too, against the cold as she tucks it behind her ears. You’ve got both hands balled into your coat pockets, watching her pretend like she isn't about to say something you absolutely do not want to hear. Then, a sigh - the length of which is probably unwarranted. You can feel the frost on the air burning through your teeth as you face back out toward the taxi stand.
It’s gotten late and you're still waiting on an empty cab - you’re realizing there was never a conversation to be had in the first place.
“For what it’s worth,” Irene says, and there’s an indecent proposal just in the way she glances at you. “I had my eyes on her first.”
It’s all on account of some sort of moral quandary, or whatever nonsense Irene pretends to believe every time it comes up. A gross power imbalance; an issue of innocence and entitlement; a threat of abuse. Something, another thing, patriarchal expectations, blah, blah - she fudges around the details, but never ever cares who gets hurt. Not really.
And it’s doubtful Irene believes what she says, not to mention she’s skeptical anyone is even capable of zipping their way down Karina’s denim, working a pair of hands up the contour of her long legs, and making her pant and gasp hard enough that she forgets to breathe.
Well, supposedly - that is anyone, save the two of you. Nevermind the fact she’s always, always been off-limits.
The bottom line is she's a whole decade younger than either of you. This just for starters - only legal for alcohol by some narrow margin. Because between you and your fiancée there are all these rules: no coworkers, no labelmates, no close mutual friends, no personal assistants, no jealous ex-lovers, and absolutely none of her juniors. It’s in poor taste, among other things.
Also, just as straightforward: crossing any number of those lines has its own kind of appeal.
"Okay,” you say, “then maybe you should be the one to tell her we’re taking her home."
Irene's arching her eyebrows at you like a silent rebuttal. She smiles after a laugh, quick and easy, because it's what she's good at. It's what she knows. “Like you weren’t hoping she’d be here, too."
The ash Irene taps off the end of her cigarette falls to the ground like snow. Hitting the pavement as if it might punctuate the thought. That's a rare first mistake from someone like you, and then a second one from her: she thinks she’ll need to defend herself with an explanation, like she’d ever need to justify anything to you.
“Besides, she’s not waiting for me to ask.” There’s a curl to her mouth - and then, she adds, for your benefit, "she'd follow you anywhere."
The twisted irony is that the two of you could pick up any woman, anyone at all.
"I think it’s a discussion for another day," you tell her, serious. She laughs out loud.
"Which one? Who Karina wants, or that you're aching every bit as much as I am to spread her out on our bed and fuck her? Because I'm pretty sure we can both agree that at this point-"
Your palm curls around the nape of her neck with a touch of on-your-feet-thinking: one of these moments that lets Irene sit with the knowledge of how small she really is against you, her head against the collar of your coat, chin angled just so to look up at your face. And there's only a beat that passes between your fingers in her hair, tugging gently as her hand releases to your waist, her teeth clipping against the press of your lips, before a cab pulls up right next to you. You kiss her hard. It probably looks cinematic.
If for nothing other than to give Karina one less thing to overhear when she comes back outside to join you.
"Really not the time," you whisper right into the subtle twist of her grin. Her cigarette's gone out in the snowy mess, but Irene smirks deeper in response before throwing it onto the wet concrete. She grinds it beneath her boot like a reminder, her hand still firm on your hip.
"What, you don't think it’d make her day? Don’t think she'd want to hear all those kinds of thoughts running together through our heads?"
You pull Irene in closer. “She’s not you.”
-
For context - only so you’re aware how it all starts - it wasn’t actually New Year’s Eve, even though everyone had been drinking like it were.
Also for context, it’s not something you were strictly invited to either. Irene’s company holds this holiday party at the end of every year where all of their employees show up (read: idols; Irene likes to argue about work sometimes - to which you have never contested the value of her labor - but your brain tends to fuzz out in the middle, and instead you mostly just watch her pretty mouth in motion). All of the high-up executives and department heads bring their uptight wives and girlfriends to some restaurant ballroom for a cocktail reception that only really functions for name dropping, or influencing the media, or placing side bets on who is sleeping with the CFO - or whose mistress might show up unexpectedly and meet someone's wife face-to-face for the very first time.
It happens to someone Irene knows, once. You pray every year it will happen again.
Be that as it may, there are a plethora of other terrible ways to spend an evening and a half, but it’s all laid bare in Irene's contract - attendance being mandatory; enjoyment excessively optional.
And sure, it’s taken time, but you have gotten used to it: the industry, all of its excess, the inevitable display, the million and one things required of Irene that you, on the other hand, will simply never be able to relate to.
The machine’s so fine-tuned and tightly wound, like clockwork.
"Yeah, whatever," she had said, leaning her hip against your bathroom sink earlier in the day. Her dress laid out neatly across your bed, already pressed, set with her heels and jewelry, everything set on schedule to the point of absurdity.
And so it goes.
You can hear her brushing her teeth through the open door - and see her profile through the hand-swiped-fog on the mirror. She drags the toothbrush to the corner of her mouth: "And before you even ask, yes, you have to come. That's the deal. That's always been the deal - bored, or busy, or trapped talking to some social climbing board member who’s realized the liquor flows fast and free - I don’t wanna hear about it. You’ll be there."
"Uh-huh," you say, eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.
"Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she adds, spits, and lets the faucet run, “but this one’s shaping up to be a really long night.”
You watch the meticulous effort to pull her dark hair back into a low, neat bun as she turns and comes back into the bedroom, tossing her hair clip onto the bed to reclaim later.
“So I guess, pace yourself or something.”
"Ever the salesman, Irene," you say, facetious.
"Um, saleswoman, thank you." Her words are slightly muffled by a silk tank top pulled on over her head, then down the flat length of her body until it hits the tops of her thighs.
It’s not a matter of opinion that she'll look gorgeous in the stilettos, the dress - those earrings that catch light wherever it dares touch her. She'll smile her practiced grin. It'll probably taste sour after the hundredth person asks how long it's been and she tells them she can't remember. But then look - Irene here, still perfectly disheveled: her damp-darkened hair sticking to the porcelain skin of her neck, skin washed free of makeup. She’s beautiful. In a plain and simple way, simple-but-good. Even with the tight little scowl she shoots your direction. It’s a look she has to know could launch a thousand ships; could start a real, actual war; though you're far too charming to know how to fight - you’ve never seen the appeal.
Irene's teeth tug at the corner of her lip like she knows you'd probably end up dying in it. She puts forward this unassuming, nonchalant, “hey.”
She muses it right into a laugh. Covers her genuine smile with her fingers.
"Hey," is how you answer, always.
You’re noticing, now, the strap of her top has fallen just down the petite slope of her shoulder. You want to get your fingers beneath it. Maybe get her back in the shower. You’re never too picky.
And here: an unspoken demand, the thing that always gets you about her - while Irene stands in front of you, her finger looped between the top buttons of your shirt to draw you close. The bow of her lip perked ever-so-slightly, this soft pucker - all pretty in pink. "Before I slip into this dress, you’re going to push me against something sturdy and kiss me until I'm dizzy," she instructs, calm and methodical.
"A lot," you continue for her. You nod seriously, for a moment. "Dizzying."
She closes her eyes and leans in, and you lean into her, too. "Yeah, exactly," she ends up murmuring under a hot breath. "So, get to it.”
And so it goes, and so it goes.
-
"Have a drink," someone keeps saying.
As a matter of fact, they all do: four shots together - or one old-fashioned, or two vodka seltzers, or three of these mystery concoctions that come in a tall-stemmed glass you didn’t actually catch the name of, and jesus, it fucking reeks of prosecco. You pace yourself, within reason. You really do.
Irene gets elusive under the surface, which is to say, she doesn't change at all - not even at the edges.
And though everyone is here to be seen, only a few actually do any of the talking. Irene has it covered - you do your time.
Happy New Year, sorta. You wait it out.
-
She tastes like everything sweet, strong on her heels and sharper on her tongue - and sometimes, it’s not the best mix, given all you can manage is the touch and scent of Irene without actually getting at the insides of her thighs or that tempting stretch of skin under her ear, her neck, down to her chest.
This much, and she has no complaint - hardly seems surprised or inconvenienced - to you stepping her into the wall like it's a matter of instinct.
She just sighs, a short huff. "Don't miss these kinds of parties," she then confesses, right into your mouth, her warm exhale filling you whole. The sounds of people laughing and champagne glasses clicking nearby, a new song starting up, it's all an unnecessary backdrop, and Irene isn't distracted by a single bit of it.
Character, setting, scene; it’s all rather textbook, no?
You know what the sounds mean, the soft hums, the lingering touches, the firm press of your palm into the dip of her waist or the slender line of her back. She knows where all the cameras are because she knows everything that anyone could possibly ever want to know, such as the fact that this empty stairwell is a perfect place to start, that there isn't a real plan as to where this might go - or when it should end.
And you should know where not to press - or bite or grab or leave a mark - not in some liminal space, nor some vacant practice-room, not beneath a desk, not behind a curtain. No, not here, cloaked in shadow and secrecy, another scandal in the making. Not that the knowledge stops you from testing out the lines, from drawing little patterns up Irene's waist, slipping one hand along the barest skin where her dress has hitched up along her thigh. To a boundary, the low pitch of her voice, some suggestion like, "not here, are you serious?" mumbled across your lips like it really doesn't matter what gets said or does not.
She’s pinned so properly, so precisely, that the discord between her gentle coaxing, and your hard, bruising edge - that sheer incongruity between what you should do and what you should not - can make the adrenaline spike.
She kisses you harder - and harder, and harder. She catches the small sigh you let out. She kisses you breathless.
You can’t shake the feeling that you’re wasting an opportunity, given that you’re both dressed to the nines and are usually more homebody than anything else. Isn’t that the irony of fame? You sign up for an escape, and spend your life running away.
Irene eventually sinks back into the soles of her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, and she smiles so easy. She tugs at the cuffs of your jacket, sets your collar flat and proper.
"I'm thinking," you hear her say, taking stock for herself, the flush high in her cheeks, the tousled sort-of-curls now bared, "in half an hour, if you feel like leaving early, we could, oh, I don't know - escape?"
Escape to a bed with a door that locks, you assume she means. Irene wants; you deliver - however she'd like.
“Sounds tempting,” you tell her. She laughs against your shoulder. "Are you waiting on someone else to sweep you off your feet, maybe? Another offer?"
"Uh, always," she scoffs. It's the little things, confidence, and certainty, the honest-in-practice; how her palms sit soft and secure, cupping the angle of your jaw, one hand, now, toying with the knot of your tie like she's contemplating just how it might fall off of you later. Irene shrugs, leaning her weight back against the wall.
She taps a finger to her lips. Ends up saying, very solemn: "Thirty minutes."
As if you had any intention of absconding without her.
-
Irene holds true to her word - she catches you on the second to last pass around the banquet room. Some executive with a slack mouth is just launching into what sounds to be a spiel about a merger - it's unimportant, not well-versed, so Irene sidles up to you, and immediately steals your attention. It doesn't bother you in the least. She curls her finger into the cuff of your jacket sleeve, and without really being prompted or asked - and only, probably, due to the clear discomfort she has being there with anyone else - she begins dragging you out of the room; you, her ticket out of hell.
"I'm so sorry," Irene dons the industry smile and is probably charming. It's difficult for you to tell. You follow her blindly. "So sorry," she tells someone else as you exit, just before you both disappear entirely, "We're leaving. But, we'll see you next year, promise!"
A real celebrity.
The two of you suddenly a duo - and for everyone’s safety, the way it should probably always ought to be - here’s how it’s all supposed to go:
You, standing almost amidst a bank of snow gathered at the curb, your coat fanned out around Irene, shivers racking up her slight frame. All hidden just enough that if anyone were to notice where your hand ends up arriving at the narrow of her waist, they might think: 'it's not really any of my business,' and look away.
Her, curled beneath your touch - even the single press of your fingers over the small of her back as a stranger pulls a car up to the curb; or, the pull of you that ensures the driver can't actually see what you're both up to, what you're hiding; the little reach she makes into your pocket for a lighter, smiling appreciatively as she presses her cold face to the crook of your arm, your jaw, the juncture of your neck; a safe space.
“So.” Irene will look up at you, pale moonlight gathered in her lashes. She’ll make another face: this thousand kilowatt grin or her brow raising - sharp, quick, there-then-gone. She'll turn the lighter over in her hand once, twice, and say, “how long has it been since we’ve done anything social?”
You’ll know it’s not what she means, but you’ll offer her the out anyway: "could go downtown - there's a place you've probably never been to. Might even play your style of music, if you're really lucky."
Irene will arch her eyebrow as she raises the cigarette to her mouth, lit up before you know it.
"Is that right?" she'll say, dismissive, a smoky tendril curling up over city neon and catching starlight.
You're no stranger to what’s actually being suggested - an unspoken sort of arrangement. All because Irene sees herself as being above, hiding her intentions in euphemism, tact; in long, slow drags; in lilting lashes - while she's fully and shamelessly aware there's nothing virtuous about it.
Who the hell else could make it sound dignified, pretty even: ménage à trois.
Then, you’ll do your part. You’ll help interpret: another girl, gorgeous and probably unclothed, another bad decision, or two, the three of you finding yourselves back in your apartment where Irene will not hesitate to run her tongue up the side of a sweat-glistened neck, to tilt her head and whisper out a mantra of, honey, sweetie, anybody ever tell you how good you look between a woman’s legs? Or, fuck, let’s get you out of those jeans, let me take you all in, how the fuck have we not gotten our hands on you before?
Which means the question you really ought to be asking sounds more like, “maybe we can invite someone over?”
You’ll meet her eyes as they flick up - a lazy expression, easy to read. "Bingo," she’ll say, blowing smoke and even more caution to the wind.
Almost to a fault, everything she does draws attention. Every fool with a blog and a camera posted outside of an event will have her labeled on-sight. You can already see the headline - because the only thing worse than everyone thinking you're the antagonist is looking the part. The imagery, red carpet, sexy evening dress, sultry, regal. The caption, Bae Joohyun - they use her government name like they really know her - sulking in smoke, or thirty flirty and thriving? below a thumbnail of her holding the cigarette, with your suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She's a total tabloid darling. Irene the temptress, or Irene, ice in her veins, or Irene - "How does she look so fucking gorgeous without makeup?!" or "Do I wanna hate her, or wanna be her? @RedFlavor_ROYAL," or "In every shot I feel like Irene has me staring into her soul."
Add that to the fact the girl’s utterly shrouded in myth.
Everyone running amuck with speculation; she's the girl-next-door, she’s the fantasy-in-real-life, she's someone everyone could see themselves fucking - she’s the heroine they say, the villain, the perfect wife, the one-that-got-away. They never do decide.
Though there’s only one opinion she’ll concern herself with, and only on occasion: yours.
Her fingers will come in the dark to trail feather-light from your collarbone, between the rise and fall of your shirt buttons, before pressing open palmed to your chest to still right there, and she's such a pretty thing in the plain black dress, all yours and very much in the mood - which you'll already have reason to know, in part from having felt your way around her no more than a hour prior, but also just the way Irene's been looking at you from beneath her dark lashes all evening, that subtle predatory gleam in her eyes.
You’ll hold her close. Irene will have the audacity to comment, “love you,” in this delicate little whisper, quiet like it could go either way - affection or gratitude. Maybe a touch of both.
A car will shortly arrive, pulling up to the curb with snow melting under its tires, headlights in your eyes, and then finally, in no particular order, your heart hammering: the click of the lighter, the falling ash, the sweet easy laugh, the crunch of ice under foot as she steps down beside you, the soft sweep of your arm.
You have no complaints about the proposal. A lack of argument or dispute is basically the same thing as consent, isn't it? For all intents and purposes, as a whole, it's really kind of a win-win:
Irene needs variety, which you're well aware of. It's only natural for someone who can have anything they want. And, sure, you happen to be a willing participant when it comes to satisfying the occasional whim.
So - the conversation will follow you right into the backseat of the cab, simply to iron out the details.
“Tall. Beautiful. Soft, soft, soft - like cashmere, a luxury brand," Irene will have one heel off and her knee braced up into the back seat while the other leg extends across your thighs, fingers running along your coat collar to make idle circles against the exposed skin there. "Or, at the very least, someone with a little more bend to their character - you know how those prim and proper types always get a bit lost in you.”
"And wouldn’t you know."
It’ll sound smooth, probably. Irene will roll her eyes.
“So, okay,” you'll return to her, right after instructing the cabbie how to get to Irene's place. None of the implications here are lost on you. “You have anyone particular in mind?”
"Hm, I’m thinking."
You can picture it, roughly: Irene's whole body sunk into the dark corner of the seat - one leg idling over the other. Her foot bouncing at your thigh. She has her heels in one hand, earrings in the other.
She’ll look wistfully out the window; the intermittent flashes of city lights casting her face in different hues. The curve of her jaw; the stately line of her nose; her thick black lashes - composition and subject. It's this kind of attention to detail that the cameras scramble to pick up. It’d be better if they got it for the right reasons.
You’ll pull out your phone. Start the usual scroll from the top of your contacts. The girls you know, the girls you don't, the ones who might be awake or who definitely are, regardless of time of day or night.
Irene will finally perk up, gleaming.
Someone cute, she might say, only because she'd rather not admit, someone like me. There's limits to her vanity insofar as her taste - in all sorts of things.
But she does like the idea of it. Someone young and pretty and impressionable; someone naive, or tiny and helpless; it's never difficult to find the girl who will fawn over her - all wide-eyed and doe-faced the instant Irene floats her fingers across her collarbone, smirking - when she starts at the zipper at the back of her neckline and says, "we’re going to see how wet I can get you," without missing a beat. Someone who will eventually say please when Irene gets a little stern and tells her, "ask me what I'm gonna do to you," in a rasp so smoky that it would make the cigarette seem blasé.
But that, you suppose, is the nature of Irene. A touch domineering. A little more than just a pretty face.
She always takes, but she takes gently - a push here, a pull there, she knows people will give her anything.
It will be more obvious when there's a small voice trembling between the two of you, twisted up in your sheets and simpering with the gentle sort of affection that Irene deals so expertly: two fingers sliding up, pressing down. Curling, beckoning. Slow and tender, without giving up that she's looking for any soft spot; a weak point. Some vulnerability to exploit.
It'll be right after whichever plaything of the hour pulls her lips off yours, off the length of your fingers - or when she unfastens her mouth from the hard shape of your cock with an obnoxiously loud pop: "do you guys do this kind of thing often?"
And Irene, without even an ounce of hesitation, will rip right into the sheer of her stockings, letting out an aggressively casual laugh. She’ll plant a kiss somewhere deep. Say, "oh, honey," as she nuzzles into the crease of her thigh. "We're pretty new to this too."
Everyone, just - believes her. For the same reason you suppose they believe she's perfect. She’s good, really good at all this.
In the taxi, Irene's foot will continue to tap against your leg, until you're stopping her by covering her knee with your hand. As for now, the evening will remain all but written in stone. You'll run a hand through your hair, you’ll lean an elbow against the window - the whole while, ignoring the sudden itch between your shoulder blades at the thought of something else. At the thought of all the other girls who'll take an instant liking to her. Who wouldn't.
The light will change. The intersection will empty. The radio will turn to static.
You'll eventually offer up a name like, "Jennie Kim," among others. Moving alphabetically down your contacts list. Taking you a long while to make it through the 'K's.
"Hm." Irene's soft hum of disapproval, non-committal. "Are you asking, or telling?"
The difference won't matter. "I'm suggesting," you'll say.
You’ll watch how Irene turns the name over in her mouth a few times before smiling - how she knows, there's the smallest part of you that has her held in a certain light. "Maybe," she'll say, tapping her phone against her cheek in the contemplation of whether or not this is a tentative no or a provisional yes - when really what she'll avoid an answer with is, "aren’t we a little tired of Jen?"
Tough to say.
Good, sweet, and just naive enough to get twisted up between you, in her case. Oh, Jennie’s the type of girl - you'll stuff your cock in her pretty little cunt while leaning into her, taking her arms and pinning them to the base of her spine, so she can't reach and can't claw and can't make an utter fucking wreck of herself. The two of you have known Jennie for too long, is what will strike you then. And a moment later, the idea of sinking into her ass from behind with your palm flat and warm against her hip and your voice husky and deep in the way she likes, and saying, god, fuck, Jen, you’d let me do anything wouldn’t you, you’d let me cum in here too.
And - she would, really.
She wouldn't even complain. Her face would be pressed so firmly against Irene's thighs, and she would whimper, not beg. Even though you know it’s what Irene might prefer; how it makes her look real cute - cheeks stained crimson as the syllables roll around her tongue before being forced out into the open.
"I think she's great," you might say out loud, lowkey.
And in a voice that is louder than strictly necessary, Irene will cut in: "she lets you finish in her ass, and then not even three minutes later she'll say it was the best lay of her life, of course you do."
It’ll make the cab driver clear his throat.
"What you’re saying is ‘no.’"
Irene will frown, thoughtful, but not conceding anything - perhaps she means hold onto that thought for now. If nothing else sounds particularly enticing, we'll call it a maybe. "I’m saying: Jennie is. I don't know."
You can hear the end of her sentence: not quite good enough. Not this time around, but someday, sure, someday soon.
"And for the record," Irene will follow, casual, with a dismissive hand wave. "Just because you got to her first doesn't mean she's ever liked you more."
The few that fall afterwards will never make the cut. Irene will turn them all down. Jisoo - no, sorry, look, she's so, so pretty, Irene will be trying to explain, gesturing in a way that's hard to interpret. "But a little too stuck up for my tastes."
You've been speaking in code for years. She means: way, way, way too straight.
"The blonde though," Irene will try right after that. “Daisy, or Lily, oh god something or another, what was her name-”
"Um, do you mean Rosé?”
“Yeah.” Irene will sink back into the leather, sipping down a memory or two and shifting her skirt up the top of her thighs.
You'll consider the angle. Your options: Rosé on her knees right inside the foyer of your apartment, Irene's hands wrapped tightly in her hair, controlling the rhythm. The way she gets her fingers spread under Irene's knees and draws her forward, pushing up with her eager, prying mouth - licks and licks, nosing against the heat of Irene's pussy until she’s gasping and locking her hands around the younger girl's head to steady the jerk of her hips.
Then, you'll laugh out loud. Because you know, Rosie isn’t anywhere close to straight enough.
And the back-and-forth of what-ifs and could-bes will follow. An endless string, a laundry list. Where Irene makes a face for every name, every suggestion: too messy, or too innocent, or too sweet, or too boring, or not nearly shy or gullible enough, or whatever other bizarre caveat she finds to slot between all of her impassioned criticisms. The cabbie will be shaking his head at some point too, because the question hangs over the taxi at large:
What exact criteria could possibly be good enough for the distinguished tastes and sensibilities of Bae Irene?
-
(The truth is: it doesn’t go like that at all.)
-
Enter then, Yu Jimin.
The run-in starts there, downstairs, out standing in a pool of warm, yellow light. The snow flurrying about in the glow of a street lamp - melting into where her smoothed curtain of jet-black hair spills over her shoulder and trickles down her sleeve. She looks a little cold, but not noticeably shivering. There's a red flush to the exposed length of her legs, between a pair of knee-high boots and the short hem of the coat itself. The stockings underneath offer little in the way of wintery protection - nor do the little bows that rest at the the bands of elastic around her soft, pale thighs - though it's obvious to anyone who's looking why she'd choose to wear them.
An assay into form over function. She's never cared for pragmatism.
But the lines around her are pristine, a clean-cut of shadow and substance; you take a step onto the curb, feeling yourself fall right into the foreground.
Look: you know Karina. You both do. Enough to recognize where it’s calmest before a storm.
Irene eventually calls out her name into the silence, and there is a split-second where her fingers reflexively wrap around the crook of your elbow. Almost possessive.
A car rushes by. Karina turns with her ungloved hand holding her cellphone to her ear and she's fucking gorgeous as can be, always pinning you with these big, unapologetic eyes - strikingly and somewhat deceptively innocent beneath her sharp brows. A breathy huff in response; she's otherwise unaffected.
Her shoulders shrug in easy dismissal; a quirk of the corners of her mouth. She slips her phone back in the pocket of her pea-coat. "Oh, how we all doing?"
Not for long, the question lingers.
"Fine," Irene finally replies, though her voice doesn't rise above a disinterested murmur.
"Easier, right? To fight for breath down here than it is up there," she says, pointing her gaze up high into the rafters of the building, and in a lot of ways, you realize, she's just like Irene - sweet, charming, this uncanny ability to make you think she's close, when she isn't actually looking to share anything. When she hasn't exactly decided that she likes you or anything at all.
You squint slightly. Take in where her silhouette appears darker against the backdrop of city lights, blending with the velvety black, bleeding into the ink-smudged night sky.
"There's certainly something to be said for flying under the radar at these things," she continues, taking one step closer towards you as if for comfort. Or privacy - to guard against anyone who might walk by.
"You've still got it easy," Irene says, "that, and everyone thinks you're too pretty to go after. No one even seems to consider the idea, it’s insufferable."
"Jealous?" Her tone is playful. There’s a smirk she’s suppressing - until she can’t hold it in: an unexpected, stunning smile, dimple and all. This incongruously kind face.
Oh, and listen, no one gets it better than Irene.
"No," Irene exhales, hot. “Not at all.” You can see where the thin plume of her breath hangs over her like a cloud for a moment, thinking, before dissipating against the harshness of a frigid December breeze.
"Really." She smiles at you again. Makes a sound that could be a laugh, you don’t know, the wind takes it, far away.
"Are you out here waiting for someone?" you have to ask.
"Loaded question." Karina purses her lips for a moment. Her long eyelashes blink once, twice. "Because, I dunno, aren't we all?"
"Some of us more than others." Irene speaks quietly, moreso to herself than anyone else - but somehow her voice carries.
"Cheeky," Karina says, and this time she does laugh. "No. I'm waiting for a cab. I've had one hell of a night, and no interest in spending the rest of it in some rising socialite's bed, doubters excluded, because - look, I'm happy for you guys, I guess? You're gonna get married," she claps slowly, slow and mocking, slow enough that Irene rolls her eyes, "-or, the two of you will make a statement saying that you are - either way it sounds fucking exhausting - congratulations to you both. But seriously, congrats."
This is sorta how you've always known her.
Faintly-hinted secrets, flirty half-truths. Her love life is an utter wreck, but that’s not something you’re supposed to know. So that's all she gives, which is more or less how everyone knows her. It's the only way to survive, probably, in a world of glitter and glamour, when everyone's vying to look, to feel, to take, and take, and take. Irene knows how suffocating it can be - she doesn’t lie about it, not to you, which is the only reason you're so well-versed.
Point being, no one wants to admit to any cracks in the fantasy; the gold too shiny, the surface too slick, the mirror too smooth for that illusion to slip.
"So go grab a guy with a half-decent smile and get him to buy you a drink about it," Irene suggests, derisive, "arch your back, push your tits out, get creative. I doubt it'll be much trouble at all."
Karina looks down, back up - with a slight chew of her lip, saying, "you just have me beat in all the important ways, I suppose. You got it in the bag, no real competition."
Irene is smiling, but her expression is unimpressed; it doesn’t mean much, really, to be her friend, her colleague, or worse, her opponent. Irene is calm like an evening in July, a low, cool, languid feeling. "I don't mean to be a prick, but, aren't you a little young to be so jaded?"
"Gosh," Karina’s grin doesn’t change, but does turn a touch wicked, like she's biting back. "I'd hate to be around when you do mean to be a prick, but maybe we'll find out - you know, down the line, someday.”
Irene tuts softly. It sounds patronizing. "Please, you'll have to forgive me - for mistaking you for someone more aware of how the rest of us work."
“You're one to talk, Irene."
“Careful,” Irene warns.
"What, you gonna set me straight?"
"Right." The way the word rolls off Irene's tongue, slow, thick, bitter, like molasses; like the coffee she has when she's tired, like the cigarette she swears left and right she’s cutting out and the vodka she needs you to reach for in the upper cabinets, like the person she is after midnight when you've let her keep drinking to find the limits to her inhibition. You understand Irene too well. And no matter what anyone says, you will not have the facts wrong.
There's no kindness to the way she laughs. None.
She tilts her head to you, grinning: an honest grin, her favorite thing - inimitable, unique, and hers alone; her version of cruelty is what will always have them doubting. You hold her gaze as she adds, "of all things, right now - wouldn’t you just love to set her straight?"
-
Depending on who you ask, you’ll get different results.
Irene insists you kissed Karina first, probably out there in the snow - god knows how cliche would that be.
She also insists that it was you who suggested that “there’s a lot more sense in splitting a cab,” and then minutes later, “please, it'd be no trouble, just let us pay. Our place is five blocks that way," and Irene - being Irene - mentioning it's actually quite a bit further, but hey, it isn’t worth splitting hairs over. And it's not worth explaining - she shuts you up with another kiss, pressing her weight hard up against you, the arm she slings around your neck.
Then in a sort of mythologized version of the timeline, it's you who makes the proposition - invites Karina upstairs, with the charm that Irene knows is usually reserved for her benefit alone: that slight tick of the brow, the delicate slant of your mouth, the confidence you seem to have in thinking no one will ever say no, no matter how brusque the invitation-
"You two are unbelievable. Is this really your standard procedure?" Karina asks, once you're through the door, or maybe during a bout of smalltalk in the kitchen. Something flirtatious; and suggestive, and maybe a little offhand. A pointed glance downwards, back up. All it really will take. "You get some girl into your home and they're just so overwhelmed and dazzled and in love, they can't even make eye contact for longer than a second? Because that's quite a line," a soft huff, the exhale that seems to carry the faintest note of a sigh. You could call it wistful. Just this side of romantic; very attractive.
“That’s more or less the gist of it,” you offer.
“You’d be surprised.” Irene is lingering on it, back against the counter beside you, laughing. "Some people are more than happy to be swept off their feet."
"Imagine that. If that's how this is meant to go, then tell me," and Karina lifts her chin, a breath drawn slow and deliberate, "what exactly do prince and princess charming do next?"
Consider that Karina’s interpretation of events is closer to reality: no pretense. She is not drunk, and in this story, she never will be.
But it's the slow-burn thing, the rivals-to-lovers thing, the sexual-tension-through-conflict thing, the white-hot-blistering-rage matter gone awry. Not a series of happy accidents, but a result of intentional circumstance - this slow arc of descent. She knows exactly how Irene is tightly wound, and which thread to pull to make everything start to unravel. She'd flirt with you right under her nose - say things in this obnoxiously girlish tone, pout a lot, lean into so much innuendo it becomes impossible to miss the meaning, or the sincerity behind it.
If you had to guess - Karina’s been pining since forever, since Irene accidentally etched her DNA into the girl upon saying, carelessly, that she’d always seen some part of herself in Karina. Probably around the time Irene wrapped a palm over an expanse of bare thigh, just beneath the hem of her skirt, telling her, you're getting way too pretty for your own good.
Doesn’t matter who you are, that’ll fuck you up for real.
And it's not just how she looks at Irene when she thinks no one is watching either; swings and roundabouts, Karina probably can’t keep the thought of you sprawled out over Irene’s petite little frame, or Irene kissing you hard while wrapped around you tight. Your hand, her hand, intertwined and picturesque, sliding down Irene's stomach. Together - and so very without her - fingertips stroking lightly over Irene’s clit, gently dipping inside her.
Irene is not stupid. She picks up on everything, and there's a lot to unpack:
"Can you believe it? Minjeong just asked me if I've ever kissed a girl before," Karina had said to you once, ages ago, between a workout or dance practice, something or another - she was wearing a loose-fit tank top and very intent on showing off. She seemed then to be taking mental note of the face Irene put on, the look of someone trying to hold in an aneurysm.
“Well,” you played along, because you’re not really without blame here either. "Have you?"
"Oh my god." Karina knew what she awas doing, the playful slap to the chest, the lingering touches she’d have on you every chance she could get - total fucking coquette - anything to get a rise out of you, your fiancée. She hushed her voice down to this strategic whisper that Irene could just overhear: "of course not."
You better believe Irene broke her composure not soon afterwards, after Karina made her exit.
"Do not fuck her," she demanded, firm, "I don't care how good you think she might be in bed, or what she would probably let you get away with."
You remember the knit of her brow.
“Do not.”
You’re sighing, profoundly. The memory - not to mention its shocking clarity - has put a smug sort of satisfaction into your bones, indulging. The nip to Karina's jaw, a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. A hand tracing down the curve of her hips, under the guise of helping her settle between the cushions of the couch. You feel like you catch the color flooding her cheeks. Then, Irene, her pretty little shadow: the steady presence over her other shoulder.
"What." Karina sounds defensive when Irene pulls her lips away, but the hand she has buried in Irene's hair doesn’t appear to be going anywhere. "Are we going to pretend for a minute I don't see the way you're both looking at me right now?"
"Don't be stupid, darling, of course not." Irene leans up close again. Kisses up her neck, behind her ear, and coos, "the two of us, you just seemed like you were needing someone, that's all," and then whispers the words, barely audible: "I mean look, who wouldn't want the three of us right now?"
Karina hums. "Ah, so - you think I deserve to have a little fun."
"Maybe," she draws it out a little longer.
Your hands dip below her knees, running over the silk-slick surface, tugging at the frills lining her thighs - feeling up over the outline of where her body curves under her dress. Over the dark pattern printed across the front.
Karina swallows visibly, her head dropping back against the armrest, the couch cushion; by the way she shudders slightly and starts breathing, you realize that it's probably been a while since she's had much experience being in a position this helpless. You draw your fingers lightly across the bareness of her skin, right as Irene finds that sensitive spot just where her neck slopes to her collarbone. You trace along the fabric until you have her squirming beneath you both.
She sucks in a breath as Irene drags a touch right over the obvious seam, across the expanse of her hip, and despite your fiancée being a tad forward -
"Both of you should know I'm not that type of girl. Who puts out so easily-"
"Likewise," Irene practically sneers, not missing a beat and threading her fingers beneath her jaw, feeling her pulse against the pad of her thumb.
"Yeah, well. If this isn't a setup, then, what-"
“A setup.” Irene breathes the word out, contemptuous, which is almost as if she says yes, you figured it out, and she starts to lean in closer - the distance between the two of them now negligible as her mouth tightens with her derision. "That is awfully conceited of you."
"Ha."
You choose right there to run your palm between her thighs and cup at the front of her pussy through the skirt of her dress, squeezing tightly. There has to be an element of good cop, bad cop to this whole routine, and you'd be remiss not to participate in the former. Irene's glare is starting to become pretty intimidating.
"The way I see it," you begin, and it's so gentle. Easy to slip through, but easy enough to grip - no threat, or indication that she should stop rocking forward to the motion of your fingers, toying idly. "There's no catch. Only: Irene calls the shots. If you end up with a crush, or worse, think you're in love," a light squeeze to illustrate the point, the dig of nails, not too rough, but definitely drawing attention. "You've gotta walk it off.”
Karina just runs her tongue across her lips, sighing.
“No strings attached, no special treatment. Or anything."
"Oh." Karina is looking straight at you, dazed - as your fingers work harder, picking up where her hips started rolling a second before. She licks her lips. "You're telling me that I'm going to get fucked so thoroughly here, that it's gonna be a problem."
"Actually," you pull away, pushing her dress up so you can touch up ever higher this time. Rooting between her soft thighs. "I can't make any guarantees. You'll need to convince us first."
There's a laugh, from a spot inside her diaphragm - and yeah, there's no denying the reality here. She's nervous; or excited; or nervous-excited. Karina just lets it pass, an exaggerated sound in her throat, before gasping on an exhale of breath: "convince you to fuck me?"
"Between us, we've kissed our fair share of pretty girls in the heat of the moment," Irene supplies.
Karina laughs. Starts saying, "in that case, can I start by confessing that this whole exchange has left me pretty fucking wet-"
You slip one finger down the rise of her panties, this lacy little number she probably picked out with sordid fantasy in mind.
"Oh god," she says, voice drowned in her throat, husky, and sultry - it’s really hard not to appreciate the girl, like this - and then she closes her eyes, saying it again, "oh, yeah, like - like that. Okay, thank you."
Irene puts a hot kiss into her lips, and a subjugating silence stills over the living room, softening around her small voice, her breathing. Everything comes together so seamlessly, so effortlessly:
The click of Irene’s heels against hardwood, these soft sounds of wet tongues twisting and bodies grinding, Karina's face, buried somewhere under Irene's chin, letting out the cutest moan. Irene's helping the rest of the dress up over Karina's ass, then up past her waist, pulling down the scalloped elastic of her stockings. She grabs hold of her hips, feeling the draw of her curves there - you watch how your other half does the thing she does best, the thing where she strips a girl down to nothing like she's doing them a favor.
"Pretty," Irene appraises her naked body - not her face, not her mind, not her ambition or the strength of her determination, or god forbid, something banal like her personality, but, "fuck, look at you, look at this figure," her palm skates along the plane of her stomach, "so pretty."
It could be the insinuation: Irene is ready to reduce the girl down to a heap of jumbled nerves; to tears, probably - given half the chance. Like she's telling her a body as flawless and well-manicured and sweetly receptive to being toyed with as hers needs to get absolutely wrecked, among other things.
(Fucked so deeply, and to the point of utter exhaustion - the point is that she forgets her own name.)
Irene knows just by looking, her eyes tracing down each and every one of Karina’s curves like they’re taking inventory. It could be as simple as a handprint seared into her ass, a stinging red stain etched into her soft, creamy white skin, marking the insides of her thighs, her beautiful fucking tits - oh, the things the two of you could do.
"How do you want it, exactly?" Irene's eyes are dancing around her face, in her stare, darting down, then back up. "How, baby."
Karina smiles against Irene’s lips like she knows the answer, the perfect one. She must already have the script prepared. It's no stretch of the imagination: "anything, as long as it means you both keep looking at me."
Because maybe it's down to the pure physicality of it all. Something Karina's been waiting to feel, desperate to have, for some time - as you set into action, dismantling any pretense that you weren’t about to devour the heat of her aching cunt, from running touches all over her slick pussy. It’s a strong theory, you figure, from the visceral response you get when you get start to fuck her, when you slide a finger inside: tight and snug, and so unbelievably wet.
“Oh,” she breathes out, and it sounds sated and needy all at once.
You make sure to glance at her face before pressing another into her. All the way past the knuckles. She looks lost to the feeling, the pleasure; her expression gone hazy-eyed as you start fucking into her with a few steady pumps of your wrist - slow and then faster, then faster again - fucking into her with increasing urgency.
Just to keep her gasping, panting.
Like a woman starved for it.
"God," Irene kisses softly into her mouth. Her hand tangled in Karina's hair, twisting strands between her fingers and tugging just shy of something painful, "you're really sensitive, aren't you?"
Karina nods, slightly. It’s all she can manage.
You have a soft spot for girls who will spread themselves open like they can't wait, but still end up flustered over how your lips ghost across aching flesh. Who can't even form the words - asking for this, and that, and a million little things; and look at Karina - blushing, her eyes fluttering closed, and digging her nails into the couch the moment you finally put your hot mouth on her. Her entire body is drawn taut like a live wire.
"Relax," you coax, speaking more to the muscle - her legs tensed, and knees pulled tightly together. You know just where to place your lips to make her go to pieces, but it's worth suspending pleasure - your own, and Irene's, who won't admit that this sorta turns her on too - so Karina's face might open up, so the tilt of her brow can slack, and the twist of her expression can soften. Like it's the only chance she'll ever get.
When you place your palm across Karina's stomach to steady her and look up, Irene has started peeling off her own clothes, down to nothing but the little panties underneath. That garter-belt thing that makes her ass look like she was sculpted straight out of clay - a reminder she's always worth your time, no matter what mood she's in, or whether or not she'll eventually let you take the lead. She's lifting herself on the couch to throw off the little slip of a dress, the high heels. “Baby," she purrs, teasing, maybe to distract from how she’s gone from dragging circles with her fingernails across Karina’s collarbones to kneading roughly at her tits. And she might even insert something she's never actually had a chance to confess out loud, or even consider much, like: she's been dying to know what Karina's face will scrunch up into, or what her eyes will look like, tears stained across her lashes while you fuck her within an inch of her life. The image you’ll find when you find all those spots that drive a girl wild.
Your mouth drags over the slick, her lips, her clit, and down again - as if to illustrate the point.
"That feels - so," she starts, and bites off the rest of the words.
Irene grabs hold of Karina's hands. Presses their mouths back together, and bites Karina's bottom lip. Kissing the words out of her, the sentences that start in half measures and stifled gasps:
"- so, good, oh. Do - ah, fuck. Oh, god-"
-and vanish somewhere in Irene's mouth.
"-oh, do that again. Oh my god. There. Just - lick- please, keep fucking, exactly that-"
And pay close attention, because here now is how she slips: from the image she maintains for the cameras, the audiences, her admirers, her competition, her detractors, the ones who mean it, the ones who don't mean a damn thing; the girl who shies away from anything overtly sexual, or sensual, or remotely hedonistic; and doesn't act as though she too, just as much as anyone else, needs someone to fuck her stupid - as if it's an eventuality of her own humanity, instead of a concept she's learned to scorn.
Irene picks up on the distinction, all too familiar with the look filling out across Karina’s angelic features.
She ghosts her thumbnail across Karina’s nipple. Tries out: "why don't you make her cum, baby, right here, on the couch.” A look at you, a quick tilt of the chin. Then, her tongue peeking from behind her teeth, and her voice dropping, "just so you can tell Minjeong, or whoever ends up asking - 'you have no idea how good they fuck.'"
And just like that - with Karina’s body laid out beneath Irene’s hands, your mouth - you simply fucking ruin her.
You both do.
Until it's only a mess of whines and shuddering limbs and that lovely look: pure agony. So helpless. So utterly exposed.
Karina hiccups something incoherent - you’re doubling down. You’re working your touches through the torrid mess between her legs. Her pussy is shimmering wet and hot and every bit as pretty as she is. Then, the motion of your tongue, the slow, heavy flick back and forth, relentless and constant - dragging back and forth, keeping her right up, riding the wave. Back and forth, back and forth.
"Oh my fucking god." Karina can only gasp, jaw-slacked open.
Overwhelmed and blissed-out and suddenly awash in this searing and wondrous sensation that the only real way she's able to make sense of is by twisting her hands in your hair and pulling you flush against her cunt while she cums on your lips.
"Ah - you're fucking kidding me. Please, don't stop, please don't-" Karina has her head turned. Voice pitched right into Irene's shoulder. You fuck her on two fingers until she’s got the heel of her palm pressed firm into her forehead, and she’s starting to jerk her hips into your face. Stutter her breathing, her words: “I, I, I- fucking - what the fuck, you’re making me - jesus fucking christ."
Like some delicate and intricate piece of her had just been irreparably snapped. Broken. You hear her expletive-laden screams - and think, better her, than either of you.
And all the way through every last part of it, cresting, waning, quivering, the tremble of her thighs snapped shut against your ears, the grind of her teeth, and each little choked out gasp-
“I'm… fucking cumming.”
Karina spends the entirety of her first orgasm between the two of you, heaving.
The look on her face alone, just from what parts you can see, has your lower gut clenched - it goes from anguished pleasure, mouth pulled wide and brows wound high and tight, all the way to calm and cathartic, the pretty bow of her lips settling into something manic. Eyes softening with a luster, half-closed. A mask, the afterglow: blissed-out and smiling dreamily.
How anyone could say no to a picture like this, you're unsure. Though not particularly willing to test the theory, naturally.
"That was mean," Karina finally huffs, letting a moment pass to even out her breaths. "Both of you, so mean."
"You said to," is all Irene says, amused.
Karina looks down; lifts her head just slightly - as you bring your own mouth off her, catching her glance. Not even your palm and your fingers covered with the evidence - it's her lips that give her away, the swollen, pouting, bright pink lips of her pussy, still radiant with her climax.
She breathes, "god. Irene."
It sounds an awful lot like she's begging for mercy.
Irene hums softly. Leans in for a kiss, with her slender hands cupping Karina's face. Manages to say: "you just look so fucking hot when you're struggling. Can’t fault us for that." She reaches down, and digs her fingernail into the line of Karina's cheek - near the center, just short of the outer curve where her dimple naturally settles. She works her lips to a very soft, "ow."
"Listen," Irene says, "is there anywhere else you've been considering going? Because in the event you're looking to stay for the night-"
Karina replies, "only everywhere I still haven't gone."
Her smile looks honest. Her cunt seeping and slick - there's abundant honesty there, too. And you manage to catch the wicked glint in Irene's eye, like she's a bit obsessed with all that glisten, and what it means - that Karina hasn't felt a real, good dicking in ages. Maybe, probably, never. That she's slept with everyone and filled her quota of playing pretend: of someone just going through the motions, dragging their mouth or tongue or cunt along the most obvious, conventional routes.
It’s written all over her face: the girl between you needs to be touched everywhere, and by someone who knows how. Needs it deeper, more. Has to feel the pressure everywhere all over.
Irene asks her, plainly, “how might we get you moaning like that again, hm? We're both dying to know."
She puts her hand under Karina’s chin, tilts her face towards hers, and kisses her long and deep. Until the both of them are having trouble catching any breath. Until they have to break, only so one can take another in: inhale, exhale, and back in her mouth.
"Maybe." Karina lets go of Irene's lower lip. She sounds almost bashful, "you'll need to let me get my hands on that cock of his. Let me get it inside, want it real fucking deep inside. Tell you if I'm just, you know. Really fucking horny. Or maybe I have some hangups about sex I've never told anyone - and we have to work past that," she takes Irene's mouth into her own again.
It's the short consideration of sure, mm, why not? until the next suggestion is: "he should be on his knees, in bed, those hands around my waist, behind the small of my back and pulling me into every stroke."
“Oh,” Irene agrees, “I love that. Should I play with myself while I watch him fuck you senseless? So hard and rough - you'll start seeing stars. I wanna see him completely railing into your dripping pussy from behind, fucking you so goddamn well until you're screaming so loud it’ll wake the neighbors."
Karina sighs. “Well I’d hate to get all the way here and half-ass it.”
You barely catch it, but there's a lovely note in Karina's voice. It’s saying, and don't you dare treat me like glass, like I’m fragile.
All in all, a filthy, filthy way for a girl with virtually no ill-reputation or ill-gotten gains - no record whatsoever - to describe how she wants you to fuck her, until she’s biting down on the consonants in your name, moaning loud and unmistakably clear, and-
“-sorry, whose cock?” Irene has no intention of letting her off easy.
You draw away from the meat of her thigh, licking your lips clean, and insert mid-conversation with a husky-voiced, "hmm?"
Karina just shoots you a sharp-eyed look. "You heard."
"Only," you play dumb. You run a hand between her legs, using your palm as you go, so you can pull more sound out of her throat; the pleased sighs, a hum. Another. "The part where you want it 'real fucking deep inside,' I think I heard."
"I mean, wouldn't you?" Karina looks satisfied with that. Lets out an easy laugh and turns to Irene. "Besides, I need to know if it’s more than just pretty eyes and a handsome smile that you’ve gotten yourself so hung up on."
The tilt of your fiancée’s brow above her is noticeable and apparent. Not a twinge of surprise; more like recognition. It's Irene looking haughty - beyond the usual - wrapped up in the afterglow. It's the confidence, and not at all humbled by the reality that she is no stranger to fucking a girl this downright gorgeous, knowing the danger inherent in allowing that kind of damage, but if Irene has you figured - she's figured Karina even better: someone willing to push through the burn. Someone, she’s betting, with the capacity to handle pain like it's an artform.
“Karina,” Irene says, and she's really leaning into it, "you really ought to be more careful with that smart-mouth of yours.”
It's the absolute worst way to proposition someone; maybe second only to what Irene whispers straight into her ear:
"If I had to guess, it’s your sweet, pretty face that has everyone bending over backward just to let you fuck them, hmm?”
You’d anticipated this much. You watch how your beautiful wife-to-be eases forward and leaves a slow kiss into Karina's throat, before adding the worst, most awful thing she can manage, “they're eating up this adorable, innocent facade of yours just as soon as you let it slip - letting you straddle their waist, and slide right on, and chase some clout out of oh, she must have this tight little cunt, or how good it would fucking feel to ruin a load just slamming these perfect tits, or. The best of the best, when it comes to pretty things with brains and mouths on 'em: 'fuck, I bet Karina has a face like an angel, she's the kind of girl who probably really, really loves taking it raw - filled and fucked as deep as she can manage'."
“She’s insinuating you’re a slut,” you offer on the next beat, down from between Karina’s knees. “Or something.”
"I put that much together." Karina has that teasingly pragmatic tone in her voice, matching Irene's level. "Your point?"
The joke is that even Irene - after she has the chance to drag her thumb across Karina's lips - looks mildly impressed.
"Sweetheart," the corner of Irene's mouth quips, as if the reason is so, so very obvious, "let’s say you’re just like me, total hypothetical. You're going to have to let us know which part feels better: the praise, or the degradation. I know it’s what makes you tick: all the attention. I know you need it. The same way I know that I could eat this perfect pussy out for hours just to get it slick, and wet, and wanting, and the thing I’m still not sure you’d be ready to learn," she tells her, a light in her stare that flicks upwards, eyes going from Karina's cunt and back to her eyes, her own mouth, and then hers, "the really good sex? Isn’t always pretty."
There isn't room for misunderstanding, let alone any mercy in it. Irene's face is dark; dangerous. Like, seriously. Karina knows better. Everyone does. You know exactly what she's doing. You know what comes next, but this time, you can't shake the feeling like-
Like Karina wants you to look.
She has her fingers on her cunt, spread, presenting - and a small shrug; her response is so fucking coy: "I guess I can't really help it. Besides, it’s common knowledge, isn’t it? The brattiest girls always turn out to be the best fucks. Honest, I get so wet sometimes, you know and then god, I can't think straight.”
She laughs at the premise.
“I dunno, what's a girl to do?"
You can feel the room starting to tighten up, just barely: Karina’s breath still heavy, her chest heaving, the way Irene holds her still, how her arm curls across her stomach, palm flat under her tits; that pose in particular, the power to entice.
And maybe it's the fact Irene is still making eyes at you from Karina's shoulder, the cruel bite to her upper-lip, showing how she's working at the soft skin of her neck - a smirk, before pressing into another kiss there. Your insides are running hot, a shudder racing up your spine. There’s no mistaking what she's getting off on, not just some pretty-as-paint newcomer. There’s your Irene, your fiancée - and her beautiful, adorable, awful little shadow.
-
So what if, by some pure hypothetical, this all spirals out of control?
You don't know the consequences of taking home what amounts to a coworker and screwing her with a certain reckless abandon. There’s power harassment, a toxic workplace environment, boundary issues, sexual-fraternization. So on, so forth. It's all relative, but watching Irene and Karina make their way up the stairs and admiring the things that only a woman's hips can do, swaying this way, and that - and, following the path from one tight little ass, the other, all the way up their spines - there are no such qualms to contend with, because there's absolutely zero chance that’s the thing that’ll be keeping you up all night.
Irene laments and hopes in the same breath.
She has two pairs of panties in one hand, Karina’s fingers laced into the other, explaining with a quick squeeze, "don't tell me, baby, I already know," a wink, a laugh. She’s such a sweetheart when she means to be; charming, wooing, the coy girl Karina seems to have gotten so drunk off the idea of getting mixed up with. And yeah, when she drops them on the floor, and pushes Karina gently against the wall. Traces her finger up her jaw, then her cheek, and leans into the crook of her neck, into that same spot from earlier; yes, Karina can count herself lucky, or whatever.
"So, don't stop now, baby-" Karina's huffing - the line of her throat so taut and exposed. "You should really fucking try harder if you want me to beg."
"Honey," is how Irene responds, leisurely.
There will come a point in their intimacy, in all things considered, where this act no longer plays itself: Irene, the seductress, and Karina, a deft and innocent prey; of course you, the hammer to a nail, pushed and pulled in one direction, the next. The moments in which her lips leave the crescent of Karina's mouth - hot, hazy, and half-wet with their own spit, their tongues twisting, the muted click, and the telltale wet drag of a body pushing and straining up against her own-
Maybe in her bones, she is begging for it. Maybe, Irene hopes, she'll have to: eyes turned up, watering, tears coming hot, streaming down her flushed cheeks as she cries it from her lungs.
"I wouldn't have you beg for anything."
It's true that Irene is ninety-nine percent grace, one percent child-like wonder; she's easy to read when the mood hits her. The lines of their bodies tousling, twisting and tangling in moon-lit-darkness. There's some irony to it, only a few steps away from the bedroom. At the base of the staircase. In front of the tall windows covered with frost that serve, now, primarily to remind Karina that she's in a part of town she could never afford, in an ostentatious apartment she could only dream of; but most importantly, that the woman in front of her - with her fingers dipping down between her thighs and up again, tracing over her navel and the rise of her hip and her cleavage - can have anyone she likes, without limitation.
Karina can't deny it's everything she wants.
"Karina, I'm curious." You're easing into that spot, where the two of them have coiled themselves up - you’ve got your cock in your hand and you’re stepping out of your pants - in the hallway, the frame of the door, a heavy, long shadow cast: Karina has Irene pinned now, a wrist over her head, against the other side of the wall where the white paintwork is starting to run thin. "Didn't you say something before about how hard you wanted it? Raw, deep, I believe was how you put it."
Irene smirks. It's just the slightest sneer, until she has her hands reaching over the curves of Karina's hips and pulling her fingers into her soft ass. Spreading her cheeks. Touching up, then down, back in the same groove, this slow rhythm that builds - like they were both expecting this exact sequence of events.
You watch Irene whisper something into the girl's ear, and - fuck - the light catches her expression at just the right moment, head lolled to the side.
"Hey," Karina drawls. She lets it come out breathy - on the note, the middle and upper registers of her voice, hitting something near a perfect alto. "How about instead of having some heart-to-heart, and making me out to be some naive-ass kid, you stop asking questions and get to fucking the life out of my little pussy."
She ends it so charming.
“Oh,” you tell her, feeling how fucking drenched she is right at the end of your cock - sliding her slick up and down the length of her cunt, and knowing the feeling will likely stick to your skin and drip to the floor, all of it - "well. If that's all."
Your hand arrives on the lithe stretch of muscle between her waist, right along the ridge of her hip bone, your cock pressing onto the heat of her cunt. Karina turns her head over her shoulder so you can see it all in profile: that pout. That look. That everything.
"There you have it." Irene squeezes the flesh she's got cupped in her palms, drawing circles. "If only everyone else got to hear that sweet, sharp edge you've got underneath, hm?"
Karina opens her mouth with some clear quip to needle, but stops herself, a catch in the center of her throat, her brows shooting up. The pull of her voice is somewhere out and over.
“God, fuck-” she can just manage to sputter. “You’re- ah, ah - your fucking cock-”
Oh, it has you cursing too. You're pushing so far into her tight little cunt - the soft airy moan, that pretty sound, riding back on every last stroke until you've filled her right to the hilt.
“I know, I know - that feels so good, right?” Irene coos.
You just pull her all the way back onto your cock, thrusting deep. Base to tip. So goddamn fucking deep.
Karina probably doesn’t even mean to whimper, but the press of your hips, slowly snapping in and in, has her lungs constricted, as the pressure slides through every hot, slippery inch inside of her - this glide of agonizing intensity.
“I bet you want to just cream all over that cock,” Irene says, fine eyebrows knitting into something like contentment. “All filled up and feeling full, and just fucking letting it go - he’ll take such good care of you. He’ll fuck you so good you won’t ever get that warm, hazy, blissed-out feeling out of your veins ever, ever again, if he has his way-”
All while the head of your cock works over every fucking sensitive part of her, dragging out to thrust all the way into her soft cunt, the round of her ass bouncing back to meet each stroke. Again, and again, until you've worked through that wet stretch of muscle. And the motion isn't exactly elegant. Karina's mouth hangs wide open, catching short breaths that curl inwards when you reach the line of her waist.
“It’s so fucking good,” Karina’s sighing out. She’s all fluster, no bite.
There’s no lack for juxtaposition in the way Irene dotes on her either - these small beguiling bits of praise like, baby, you’re doing so good, these tits of yours are just, you are - just gorgeous. Mouth quirked into a tight grin as her fingers pull and twist around her nipple. The sharp yelp that comes after. The fact that she's kissing the words into her mouth on the very next whimper: “a girl like you needs the time, and patience, and opportunity to have her insides completely, totally, catastrophically ruined.”
Irene had it exactly right on the first read. She’ll say, “I told you so,” when Karina’s washing the cum off her chest or out of her eyelashes in the shower. It’s the praise; it’s the degradation; it’s you leaning down, your hands finding her hair, curling in, and getting her right up against your lips to say it quiet, low, intimate - like a lover, like she hasn't already heard it before, “such a good little slut for me.”
And the girl absolutely fucking keens.
You grip onto her hips. You pull her hair tight. Her throat bobs under your thumb and you can feel the anxiety start to throb, her pulse hot and heavy in her cunt. How it soaks the base of your cock. Jesus, you’ll fuck a load right into her. So easily. Her pussy is so snug, so unbelievably wet. Perfect enough to know if you fuck into her any faster, any harder - it’ll be just that: you'll paint right up to her cervix; you'll fill her to the fucking brim.
"Fuck, Karina, this pussy is such a fucking dream," is what you're making sure she knows, and at that, Karina just finds that bend. Arches more of herself to you, until her ass is slotted into the plane of your stomach, the head of your cock prodding, testing the limit where her cunt is hottest and wettest. "God, this has to feel incredible. Your ass bouncing on my cock" - Karina goes slack on the force, leaning forward - "as I rail your tight little cunt."
If anything, Irene is there to catch Karina's tearful, thankful gaze when she finally starts fucking crying, a litany of yes, fuck yes, yes-yes-right-there, please fuck, and a wet, dazed little "you're goddamn - you're ruining, fucking - fucking, ruining me," every other syllable broken by her shuddering breaths.
"Aw, you're going to cum again, huh? Baby-" Irene's got her head at an angle - their gazes locked, watching - and maybe Irene really gets it: how much of a big, bad crush this gorgeous fucking woman's had on the pair of you all this whole time, with all that faux-romance, and lust, and envy wrapped up inside her - but if she wasn't so obsessed with the shape of Irene's mouth, the contour of her jaw, the lean and sleek lines of her frame and the soft, round swell of her ass - she’d still be left with the shape of your cock, where it’s pounding her apart. Fucking her and fucking her up.
It's more than worth the breath to remind Karina what she came here for. Irene's fingertips brush the line of her lips, part them just so.
“All over him, baby, let him make a mess of you. Just a total fucking mess. We'll fill you up, and fill you up, until your poor, aching pussy is full of cum," and it's probably as well: Karina does what comes most natural to her - with you three, the whole number. Her eyes flutter and go dreamy. There's not even a moment of hesitation:
"-until it's leaking down these fucking thighs-"
"You're doing so good, babe," is your supporting role in all this, murmuring encouragement straight into her ear as you fuck her to pieces. Your breath fans out against her cheek. And then, your hands make a grip under her thighs, holding her steady, making her mouth fall open - this keen, wobbly, vulnerable thing that exposes the naked girl she is, behind all the makeup, and the heels, and her seductive and all-consuming appeal, everything.
“Just so you know: it’s the best fucking part, Karina. I mean, the look on his face.” Irene laughs with her whole body, until the rich, raspy sound of it fills the hall. “The way he bites his lip when he's close, his eyes clenched - and god, I fucking love when he finally cums. It's so good, watching him. Letting him have his way. Feeling his cock throb and spill into you - hot, and still, and just pumping inside you - just so, so good.”
"Fuck, ah-" the little gasp is like she's starting to hyperventilate.
"Because baby,” is the final nail in the coffin, hammering home, “he’s fucking you just like he’d fuck me.”
"Fucking, please, god-."
Irene's hands have her breasts in their grasp and are playing at where she’s sensitive, then pushing into the soft, delicate space beneath, thumbing the indents. "He's so fucking good, isn't he? Are you going to cream and cream all over his hard fucking cock?"
Then - and because it comes so instinctually to her. Because, actually, your Irene has a slight propensity for evil:
She slaps Karina, right across her tits. "Fucking cum on it."
One.
Tugs hard on a nipple. "I swear, every single bit of you is so goddamn beautiful-"
Two.
"That body is built, perfect. So easy to ruin. And god - what a perfect little pussy you've got-"
Three.
Karina struggles to breathe. Her voice is torn, frayed. She barely manages to utter out a very shaky, very desperate, "harder, fuck- you’re fucking making me so- you can, harder-"
Four.
The cruel contact of Irene’s palm pulls this deliciously hedonistic sound in Karina's throat, a loud moan; like she just hit the sweet spot inside that's all her nerves coming alight. Irene plants a quick peck in Karina's hair. Her temples, the ridge of her brows. Slides her thumb across her eyelashes, brushing them clean from whatever tears had sprung free. You don't even want to try, not at that moment, to try and endure the quiver of slippery muscle all over your cock as she shudders into her orgasm. It's simply too fucking much. She's too fucking tight.
"Aw, shh shh, shh," and then Irene's soft hushes are coming down from the other side of her head. Irene kisses her full, straight on her mouth. Karina is shaking, convulsing and caught and fucked from head to toe - and what she needed was someone like the two of you - to watch her cunt swallow your cock like some magnificent and unbelievable sight, taking the whole damn thing. Irene is telling her, "it's okay. You can let it go."
The silhouettes alone. From the end of the hall, and where the afterimage lingers: the smoke-frosted windows, the dim lights, their bare, beautiful forms - this picture that will stick in the center of your head, will probably haunt you-
"God, I can’t, just- ah.”
“Breathe,” Irene says.
"I'll cum again, it's too- I'm so-" Karina can only plead and sigh.
Irene shushes her one more time. "It's a lot. It's alright, baby. He's going to keep fucking you until he's ready to pull out, until he has a whole mess just painted onto your ass, and thighs, and I'm going to make sure that little pussy gets so wrecked, fucked, stretched on every last inch- until the thought of sex hurts, and then we're going to make you cum again, and again- over, and over-"
You're leaning over her, nose buried into the waves of Irene's hair, the curve of Karina's back, and the flush of skin in contrast. That's when you feel the coil in your chest come loose - unspooling, and bursting - when Karina's lids roll into the back of her head and her lips fall open with a pleasured gasp and a stammer, "y-you're, ah, both, you're so, both- oh god."
You're about to just pull her down and absolutely cream her, stuff her full - a mess.
And she wants you to-
"That feels so fucking good," she lets slip out on the cusp of a shiver, just as her inner muscles are spasming, milking your cock with the pressure from one pulse through the next, squeezing.
She’s right. It does. Her, coming undone. You, at wit’s end.
Another breath, and Karina is managing out between these small hiccups - not as much out of breath, just dumbstruck - simply muttering, "I’m cumming, I- oh my god."
You barely manage it; you unbury your cock from her cunt; you’re cumming all over her ass.
A shot of white that streaks right down to her bare-slicked skin, before it gets painted down into the crease of her pussy, all swollen - wrecked and raw.
Just the way it feels on her skin is enough to earn another hushed moan from her, this sweet little whimper as she can hardly stand up straight. She lets her knees buckle, but Irene is right there, to catch. Her eyes are closed, eyelids clenching, as Irene tilts Karina's face her way, to lay one, two, three soft, adoring kisses on her mouth, the angle all wrong.
“Mmm.” The smack of her lips. The pull of whatever breath she still has to give - right out of her heaving chest. "Sore, that, ahhh- um, thank you."
You fiancée wraps a slender hand right around Karina's wrist, and starts whispering to her, unbridled, "just had to. Had to see how you look-"
It’s wicked, for one thing. More than that, it's seamless:
While Irene still has the girl's voice caught in her throat, she reaches around the curve of Karina's hips and drags two fingertips through the puddle of warm cum that sits right at the base of her spine, glistening all over her ass cheeks and inner thighs, slipping and rolling off her cunt, down the center, running in rivulets. Your cum between her fingers is so filthy, so obscene - dripping hot - right off her reddened skin, and Irene can't possibly help it; not after a display as indulgent as that. The trembling that remains in Karina’s thighs does nothing to hide how her legs now jitter and shake under Irene's touch.
“That’s my good girl,” she whispers as her fingertips hover across the apex of her puffy lips. Over and over again, with more force, and more, until you're almost positive it's Karina that leans in a moment later, kissing the rest of her soft assurances right off her tongue.
Listen to her: this incoherent string of words pouring from her mouth, like they can't move fast enough, tripping over each consonant, "are you, oh, oh - oh, fuck."
No one else could make that kind of overstimulation feel so heavenly, you figure, the way she just properly melts. You take a step back, just to let Irene work. Just to watch. To appreciate the craft.
You absolutely get it.
How to touch, how to tease. Firsthand experience has you know she'll ride your cock until you're throbbing and spilling cum and she'll just shh-shh, let you have it - it's okay, sweetie, just let go - until she's rolling her hips just right, or reaching a hand back to massage your balls, or stroking your inner thigh in that exact kind of spot; some method that keeps her all the way on the end of your cock, but not quite off the edge, and your cum leaking down your shaft, spent.
She’ll bite into her smirk. She’ll tie up her hair. She’ll get that serious look on her face because she knows: you’re all hers for the taking.
So she'll sink onto it, again and again, until she's fucking you with the slippery friction only your own spill might provide. "Just a little more," she'll tell you, which is absolutely a lie, "come on, just a bit harder, I'm so close." Irene does this thing - she's had years to refine and perfect - and her voice gets a husky edge to it as her teeth graze the shell of your ear; she makes a small, pained groan into the curl of your hair and breathily hums it: 'I'm almost there.'
Who stands any chance to resist?
And she's always asking you - the same way she's coaxing and promising Karina the world with just the movement of her fingers, this delectable in and out, in and out, pushing that filth up into the red-soaked lips of her pussy - "now, what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"
Karina blinks, once - a sleepy-lidded draw that leaves her lashes, lush and long, and fanning her flushed cheeks.
The sound between her legs is wet, squelching with your cum, with hers, the barest hint of slapping her tender skin. The beat of Irene's wrist against her thighs - like that's where she needs it most - a deep, primal rhythm, like the last thing she wants is to take a breath. It's fucking hot; her head is tilted, her jaw clenched, and Irene has the tips of her fingers twisted between Karina's legs, swirling your cum right back around in her slick cunt - those plump pussy lips that you've watched stretch out on the first press, the first and the second and the third, as Karina finds what gets her there fast, fast-fast-fastest-
"You can cum for me too, baby."
It’s not a suggestion. There’s nothing but expectation in Irene’s voice.
“Just cum.”
You watch it knock the architecture right out of Karina's legs.
-
Indulgent, just isn’t quite the right word for it. Careless, reckless, clumsy even-
Look - the tumultuous tangle you three make is all over the fucking place.
One moment, you're at an angle, moreover twisted-limbed with Irene bent over her dresser, then propped up on top of yours the next, your forehead landing against hers, feeling the soft cradle of her shoulders, her legs around you. She has her hands wrapped in Karina's, in that muddled in between: it's a collision of sorts.
There's the chair in the corner of your bedroom that really has only ever known one purpose, a plush rug, all these surfaces, horizontal and vertical for you to take the two most breathtakingly beautiful people in the world on and let your bodies settle into the shape they've needed to ever since your fingertips met Irene's in the cab, ever since she blinked her heavy lashes at you with Karina in-tow, just shy of smiling.
And boy, do you learn that Karina likes to watch herself get fucked in front a mirror. Specifically, the tall one beside Irene’s closet. It's hard to blame her. When you hold her hips tight, and really, truly fuck her, you can’t keep your eyes off how her face twists with the pleasure; or, when you drill the length of your cock into her sopping wet cunt: the wide, glossy rim of her pretty lips pulling back into a wince - and your eyes dropping past the reflection of her shoulders, her collarbones, down to her perfect tits.
The back and forth, the up and down, the way they fucking wobble in their beautifully buxom blur.
Though the eventuality remains unchanged, spread out across your bed. Karina takes a moment, hand pressed to the mattress experimentally like it's all running through her head - this is where Irene gets all that fairy-tale-inspired romance from, really - a quick pause where your future-bride is up on her elbows and staring, watching - your finger sink sin slowly, between where she's soft and warm and wet. She's thinking, you can just read it off her face, 'oh. So that's what you'd do, huh?'
Just for demonstration’s sake, you fingerfuck her in all kinds of ways - show-off and performance and dirty and mind-blowing. Because even better than the whiny, gut-wrenching moan it gets out of Irene, Karina can't get enough of how it’s all presented.
"Ugh," she slides up next to you at the foot of the bed, helping you turn Irene on her side, "why does she have to be so pretty, it's annoying, she's- she's like, made it so fucking far by playing the girl everyone wants to wife, huh?" She's talking directly to you, even while Irene rolls her neck to press her head against the pillow. "Inspirational."
You're drawing circles into her clit. Thumbing the dip, circling in the opposite direction. Karina has her nails biting right into the crease where your knees touch. In tandem, you’ll help your fiancée reach the top of that first wave.
Karina presses, all cheek - a very dry, "cute."
It’s so simple: you eat Irene’s cunt. You hold her down. And Karina slides her tongue lazily against the tight pucker of her ass.
The three of you know she deserves nothing less.
“Oh, christ, you have no idea,” Irene is murmuring into the pillowcase, head tilted at an awkward angle, looking at the wall, almost distant; but her legs are split wide and her hands are reaching forward to rub a circle into your cheek, "you know how sensitive-? Yeah. Like, really, super. Super, super fucking sensitive, okay? So - if you'd keep doing, uh, oh- oh…”
Simultaneous, then slow, and easy - kisses landing right onto Irene's clit. So much so, you can't help but turn a little, smiling right up at your girl as she digs her toes into the duvet and threads a hand into Karina's hair.
The thing is, with Irene: facades fade fast.
Karina gets to measure that fact up close - where the details of Irene's composure are not only sharp, but also readily and openly and emphatically pound to dust by the time the last loose curl of Irene’s hair falls over her collarbone; she ends up on all fours, spread out over Karina - pressed along the length of her stomach, spread over your duvet and fitted sheets, your hand at the base of Irene's waist and tightening into the divots. She’s so small beneath you that when you bury your dick inside her-
“Fuck.” Her cunt is so wet. Her breath uneven - and her words are starting to slur. There’s the gooseflesh on her back that lets you know it’s all already over for her. “Okay,” she tries to steady the ache in her stomach, “okay, okay, just- right there.”
The drag through her pussy is fucking extraordinary. It knocks the wind out of both of you; so soft to the touch, like velvet - she’s unbelievably tight. You pull her hips into you and it opens her right up. Then when you end up balls deep inside your girl a second, third, fourth time:
She simply shudders apart.
Even though you fuck her so slow, so easy - her cunt clenches and squeezes on you like Irene detests the very idea of letting you go. You don’t even need to rail her lithe body to complete and utter ruin just to feel the familiar pent-up tremor starting to build in her muscles, how she rolls her hips back just so-so. How your hands fit that round and pert little ass of hers so well, and when your fingers finally sink in, you’re pulling it all apart to get a good look where your cock shimmers with her slick before disappearing right into her tiny cunt.
Karina mutters something in her ear. It pulls on some thread, somewhere - you feel her wind like a spring, further, and further; your cock edging her so close. The smirk Karina saves for you over your fiancée’s shoulder makes you think she’s figured her out-
“Irene, look-”
Well, at least she’s tuning in on all the right frequencies.
"Aren’t we all about being thorough?" Karina raises a perfectly trimmed brow. She drapes her arm across Irene's neck, their lips sliding together again, and that kiss is drawn-out and languid, albeit needy. "So, say," it gets muffled against the seam of their lips, and comes up, and comes out like a slurry, "are we gonna use everything else too? Your mouth, your perfectly tight ass?"
Irene can hardly muster out, "fuck- fuck- yes, fucking, god," as she takes it, so deep. There’s enough there to make both of you cum, you’re sure.
“Who could’ve guessed - like there’s ever been a more perfect cocktease than bae-fucking-Irene," Karina coos, all lips. She plants a row of kisses along Irene's exposed throat. The tilt of her hips, as she pushes closer - as you press the head of your cock as deep as it can go. "Go on. Cum, baby. Be a good girl, a good hole to fuck, just do it. All over his big fucking cock. Let him fucking have you."
Which is probably about the same time you realize that you, Irene and Karina are all well enroute - becoming this one mind, a single unit. This plurality you know there’s no coming back from.
You look down, with a little more focus, and Irene is being pulled apart in every which way - your cock stretching her out, over and over - Karina’s fingers right under her clit, every circle making her whimper. She’s all sharp edges and delicate angles, but manages to be soft for you in just the right places.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you tell her, shifting your hips; pulling her ass flush and filling her completely. Your grip tightens on her waist and she doesn’t flinch a bit. "It's so goddamn easy to cum in this needy little pussy of yours. All wet and slick, and, hah- just pulsing-"
Irene lets out this wanton sound, desperate.
“Oh, right there, huh?” Karina asks. It’s not quite mean, but it’s getting there, fast. “Is that how he’s going to make you cum?”
You thrust on the same angle again, the same depth - you’re hitting all her nerve endings, all her sensitive spots. There isn't even room, now, for some imaginary head-to-head, some verbal volley, the banter; what comes forward is her tiny, broken moan.
How many times had Irene done the exact same, after all. Fucked you without holding back? Fucked you over? The flood of sweet-nothings as you started to approach: honey, you're so perfect, we can go slow, you just have to ask, and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, if you want me to stop-
“Just say please, doll,” Karina tells her.
If Irene told you a quarter of what made it out of the side of Karina’s mouth, you’d have never believed it. "I can't wait to feel what that arrogant mouth of yours will do when he cums inside this cute ass-"
You watch Karina spank her. Hard. There’s a red stain in the round of Irene’s cheek, and her skin is so pale that the imprint of all five fingertips looks stark, glaring.
"Just," Karina presses the rest of herself against Irene's skin and steals a quick glance at you - this half-coy smile pulling on one corner of her lips, "thought I'd do that in the name of-"
"Mmph," Irene’s groan is long, loud, "yes. Fuck, yes- please-"
Karina immediately looks away. An effort to hide the smug satisfaction. She fiddles with the auburn locks behind Irene's shoulder.
You’ll finish the sentiment: "-being thorough," and drive your cock to the hilt. Irene collapses forward onto Karina’s lap.
The sound she makes you swear is a sob. See - for Irene, it’s only about getting control in so far as it is about getting off; she’ll take whatever comes her way so long as it’s directly to her benefit - the theatrics of being pinned, the willingness for surrender, for subjugation, for the sake of telling you, yes, push my knees, spread me apart, hold me there; look at the things you do to me - it's the Irene everyone imagines, when they see the dresses, the gltiz, the glamour, just the brief flash of her grin, or the way she holds her fingernail between her teeth. Everyone wants to put her on her heel and feel a bit powerful. To have you watch the supple arc of her neckline bend, to hear the humility slip off her lips: the notion goes beyond simple kink-
It steps out into pure necessity.
She really, really needs it, and it's written into every muscle and tendon - it's on her breath as it shudders through her whole body. The beautiful, harrowing sound. "I love the way you two fuck me," she murmurs, head buried into the crook of Karina's neck. It's the sort of line, coming from someone like her, you know could raise a few blushes - if either of you was still in the business of such things.
"Honey," her voice wavers. Then, it falters: "please."
The desperation is thick, husky, almost. Karina seems like she's breathing her in, nose tucked against Irene's forehead.
You watch how she runs her nails up Irene's sides, a hot whisper sliding over her skin. You feel it, and so does Irene, this white hot pleasure singing up from the tip of her clit and spreading throughout the soft curves, the sensual lines of her body, this tangible current, a hum, a whine. You see her strain the lean stretch of muscle connecting her neck to her shoulder.
Until her face is tucked under Karina’s jaw, with a hand reaching back and hooked around your wrist and keeping you fucking, filling her, your hips drawn tight against hers, like a second home.
In and in and in.
Fucked-out and outright to the extent she goes completely silent. Almost completely still. The moment she cums all over your waist. Mouth hung open, like she’s in pure disbelief.
It doesn’t really matter, how often or how precisely Karina has imagined the whole thing. It's still a fucking revelation the first time she gets to watch Irene cum.
“No way,” she’s almost laughing, holding Irene’s jaw with both hands. “No fucking way. All the times you- what? No. Nuh-uh. You better fucking explain why this face, you- it’s not fair, the perfect face- I swear, even mid-fucking-orgasm, you are such a fucking doll-"
There's the sheer intimacy - Karina holding Irene's lips open, dragging her thumb down along the center. Quiet and sordid curses slipping from her mouth. And the obvious, her free hand already running down the curve of Irene's spine, her ass: all this sensitive-touching, admiring, appreciating-
"Hey," Karina says, voice raspy and drunk on the sex, the premise, "do me a favor, and tell me this feels as amazing as it looks. Or maybe, for once - just for the sake of fucking argument, is it actually better for the both of us, hm?
Her eyes are half-lidded, heavy, sultry. She's arching up into Irene's warmth - until her palms are spread out against her chest, thumb sliding right over everything sensitive, and she leans right to pull the other breast to her lips, and start all over again. It's clear what she means, spreading her legs as far as she can, pinned beneath the orgasm you're still fucking into Irene. As much as her petite frame will allow.
And in case you missed the point:
"So. What are we waiting for," is what she says a breath later, matter-of-fact, not at all expecting denial. “Or am I not as fuckable as our princess here?"
There's so much wet spill around the base of your cock, and the sound Irene's pussy makes when you finally draw free - all her creamy slick mixed into your mess just fucking leaking around your shaft. Karina holds herself open for you like that, spread wide. All your attention to her pink, raw cunt; you slip right inside.
Karina lets her arms go slack on the mattress, her chest shivering, lips locked around Irene’s panting breath.
And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.
-
(To anyone taking notes - chemistry, by definition, is the sum total of a certain process; where and when energy becomes matter becomes another.
More relevantly perhaps, it is that race and rise you feel inside your chest.
Nothing about the sensation, it seems, is too exclusive either - Irene, and now Karina, the pair of them equally devastating, all over and again. It has you in communication with a different kind of contentment: to fall apart inside their embrace in particular, and kiss them with enough breath and time to waste until the morning.)
-
“Jesus,” Karina laughs out loud, “you really believe that? You corrupting me?" she makes another scoff, both hands buried somewhere in the pockets of the sweatshirt you've lent her. "At least do me a favor and cut it out with the solemn tone."
You're leaning over your apartment’s balcony, watching an emergency plow make the slowest grind of progress up the road. It's late. And cold. Or actually - it’s early. The sky is the kind of dark midnight navy you see after all the snow and stars have run through the horizon. Time ticks on, and Irene’s inside sound asleep. A woman that small has no right to snore like heavy machinery.
So,
You and Karina happen to be two things at once: very tired, and very awake.
"What I mean is: I'm sure your manager, or your parents - fuck, someone - would fly off the handle," you say, pulling a cigarette from the pack and offer it begrudgingly. She takes the end and slips it between her lips, a little unsure. You then draw a lighter and offer it, too, and Karina puffs with all her strength. She's no expert, but it looks like the end catches and turns bright.
A bit of color.
"My parents?" Karina flouts, sucking at it, pulling deeply from her chest - smoke pours from her nose.
She finishes with a cough. And says again:
"Um. Your girlfriend had her fingers in my ass - your cock down my throat - and we're worrying what my parents might think?"
Well. She's got you on that count.
"Not to mention: who the fuck thinks they're so virtuous-" a small chuckle as she passes it back. The cigarette is lit, bright. You take a drag. Watch her tap her feet on the snow. "That they need to do that to begin with. It's more trouble, telling me what to think and feel, as if that hasn't just the opposite effect."
“Irene’s protective, albeit in her own sorta peculiar way. So, you know, by extension, she worries-" you pull, and exhale, the smoke blowing past Karina. It gets caught in her fringe, in the wisps. You offer it back when you see her shiver. "That some shit happens, after."
"Your concern is heartwarming, truly - if you want to let me think on it, I might go and write a nice little diary entry tonight. It'll have sparkles and glitter - if you're that worried."
Karina reaches in. Lets her fingers graze yours. Her skin is cool.
“Besides, I don’t need a lesson in image from Irene of all people. She’s her; I’m me.”
She holds onto the cigarette between two long acrylic fingernails, tapping the end so the ash flits out onto the ice. You're caught staring, probably - the dark hair framing her face, all messy and soft, falling about her cheekbones. How that pretty pink blush in her skin seems to never go away.
Your eyes drop to where her mouth is red, a bit swollen - well-kissed; it is snowing again, after all. And it’s easy to be kind of transfixed.
"You're not, I dunno, say embarrassed?" you ask, after a beat.
"Nope." Karina swallows. Brings the cigarette to the pucker of her lips again. You watch how she holds the inhale, holds her wrist up and slacked, head tilted back a little. This exaggerated fashion-model exhale follows, all smooth.
“Because I'm not the type.”
The heavy stream of smoke then blown right into your face.
"Really, I think - sorry, I have always wanted to do that. It felt like a movie. Look," she coughs on the next breath. "I get your dilemma. But also, um-"
There are some quiet moments too, here and there: the heat between your thighs, her pressed up close. She smells like Irene's shampoo and bodywash and that just confuses your head some.
"Who’s to say I’m not just looking out for you," you offer. Every good lie is rooted somewhere in the truth.
"Don't bother," her words hit you square on. "It's about getting off right? You invite me to your bed; I’m so starstruck and enchanted by the very concept of it - Irene and her charming, intoxicating husband. Fuck, I dunno - the way the two of you kiss, look, feel: the experience that you will let me be a part of," she stops and makes another face of amusement, so fucking confident, "you let me play, too, just once, and we're all just a little happier. My version."
“We’re not married,” you correct.
“That’s the part you’re hung up on?” Karina leans over, her upper half across the balcony, staring right up at the sky. “Same difference.”
The moon finds her smile bright like nothing else. It's something infectious. Immediately, it reminds you: of Irene.
"Trust me," she goes on to say. The cigarette slips back into the space where you are connected - the lines of her fingers, her knuckles. "I had a wonderful time, but the sun will rise here, and I'm not gonna stick around to blow you while Irene burns three omelets and finds a spot for me in her fucked up game of house or whatever."
She makes you laugh, free and easy, like a gust of cold air. Something genuine and natural. And as the laugh shakes, Karina makes it impossible not to crumble farther. Not to fucking simper there like an idiot.
“I really thought she was going to make me call her mommy or something, I swear-”
"Hey, I'm sure if you had asked." A spark catches you. The flash of her canine, and those eyelashes. “She’d have done you the favor.”
"Oh, shush." The touch of Karina's fingertip against your hand is delicate, careful - unassuming. But, god, everything with her is just the right amount of heat - it melts you; and when it stops, her touch: that feeling is so cold that you just chase her out of impulse.
"What about New Year's?" you ask. There are still boundaries you really shouldn't be crossing, but here you are, straddling yet one more.
Karina's grin cracks like an old fault line. "You're not allowed to ask me out like that," she insists, batting you away - trying her hardest not to lead with the obvious. You look out on the view, watching a guy in a parka trudge over to a garbage can, a handful of newspaper bundles, then a glance back-
The slightest flush has bloomed up Karina’s face, right underneath where the makeup's been rubbed bare. It's utterly irresistible. "Go wake up your fiancée and ask what her New Year's Eve looks like. Doubt it involves me and my dumb friends."
She’s probably right.
"Karina," you start, watching her push open the balcony door with her foot and walk slowly, lazily, back into the apartment. The window rattles, and she looks back over her shoulder. The bob of her ponytail, the sweeping lashes, that perfect slow-burn smile. That’s how you end up with a title as ridiculous and reductive as ‘original visual’ or ‘the human cg’.
"You’re really going to let them in on what we all got up to?"
"Oh," she makes this low, delighted hum - it sounds so dreamy, how her voice gets the richest sort of rasp, "every last detail."
-
On Monday: the holidays are officially over.
There's a bunch of stuff on the to-do pile. A lot of loose ends you have to clean up, a ton to catch up on. Irene is judiciously ignoring all of it. She's wearing her glasses - the ones with the big round frames that should look entirely obnoxious - which means she's already decided she's not leaving the apartment; Karina's still wrapping the world at large around her finger and has everyone convinced that she's all femme, no fatale; and you - well, you're back to thinking about how to climb the ladder and maybe how to stay there.
You head downtown with a cup of coffee in one hand and a musing mood in the other.
On your phone, some more choice text messages arrive in the late AM: had a great time by the way, stay out of trouble, this sweatshirt is actually just mine now, duh.
The selfie alongside it is pretty suggestive, but just vague enough to flirt with indecency.
She sends one more at lunch where she's gotten out of the shower, or a hot pool, or maybe a long workout - her breasts squeezed between a towel and an arm - she has the camera all zoomed in and framed tight, almost full body. If her intention is to mess with you, that's what she gets. The texts: ah, fuck off and did you have a nice date with your left hand then, thanks for reminding me, the hotel wifi is shit lmao.
The messages just keep on coming and there's really no better descriptor.
And Irene, later, in a way that's neither diplomatic nor nuanced: jesus, don't let her catch you by yourself. For simplicity’s sake. She interprets being alone with a handsome boy as carte blanche to do absolutely whatever she wants and she's vapid that way.
There’s a chance it fizzles out into nothing. An even greater chance it all goes sideways. You'll have to see what becomes of you three.
-
Okay, right - new year, new you. The resolution for the past couple remains unchanged, and unfulfilled - less takeaways and eating out; more meal prep, less calories, healthier decisions.
Irene has this cute little apron over her sweater that is fixed extra tight, the belt trailing down the tops of her jeans to accentuate her nice round hips and slim waist. She knows the nature of her charm, her sex appeal. How it occurs, almost, as if by accident.
You say something that will get right under her skin like, “looking real domestic, Joohyun,” as she slides a chopped onion from a cutting board to a bowl.
She presses her hips out just a smidge, just enough. Turns a bit as she opens up the fridge, and the smirk she has for you, that sidelong glance-
“Don’t you Joohyun me,” is her lightest rebuke.
She twists her way onto her tiptoes to fetch at the highest shelf. The crochet corner of her sweater rides up a couple of inches, flashing a hint of the fair, bare curve of her lower back. "You can help me by grating the parmesan, hm? Into that," she gestures back at the table, pointing with the bottle of olive oil.
And so you're ten, fifteen minutes into helping with dishes, with the grunt work - with the realization that Irene is going to chop her fucking fingers off if you leave her to it unchecked.
"Actually, here," you say, "can I?"
She tilts her head, skeptical - still, a quick nod of permission - and her slender fingers surrender the knife and wooden chopping board to you. She's tapping away at her phone, finding the playlist you're both always secretly listening to.
"Wow," Irene says, low, as you start dicing mushrooms, a stalk of celery. "So brave. There’s no way I could do that. Is it safe? Are we, like, in nuptial bliss now, do you think? I fancy you, I fancy you-"
It's always this sorta-delicate dance with her: how much should you step up; how much should you put out of hand; how much she accepts versus how she pushes you aside and gets through you all the same. You're too proud, really - both of you - but fuck. She's adorable; the apron adds insult to injury; and it makes the switch in your head simple.
“I always forget how much I love this song,” she’s saying; the rolling pin she’s grabbed is a reasonable surrogate for a mic. When she’s through singing a verse, she shoves it in your face. You don’t know any of the lyrics.
She doesn’t really care.
You have to laugh at everyone who's ever wasted the effort to theorycraft who she is behind the smoky lashes, the lowered chin, the downturned glance. All the characters and archetypes she'll wear and cast off as she needs.
"Here." She sidles up and tucks her hair behind her ear, the side of her hip grinding into your thigh until she’s pressed firm into the line of your leg. Because she needs to tell you that's way too much garlic, and she's not going to kiss you if your breath is trying to kill her first. She uses the word "pungent" a number of times, just for good measure. Go on - she’s murmuring - taste; right off her finger. If anyone caught this you’d be embarrassed for weeks
“I think, definitely, should open a bottle of wine-”
That’s how you earn all the responsibility for getting the both of you fed; she gets distracted looking through the recipe book.
But there's the way she looks up at you from the opposite of the kitchen island, face held up between her hands, fingers folded underneath her chin. "What?" she asks.
She’s totally caught you staring.
The truth is: Irene only looks this gorgeous when it's just her. When she forgets that she's supposed to stick to a script.
You tell her as much when you end up fucking her right there on the counter.
It's so slow, atleast at the onset. Her panties pushed aside, jeans spilling off an ankle - the fucking apron managed to make it to the floor but her sweater got kinda stuck on the way up. So you're reaching through some overpriced fabric blend to pull down the wire of her bra and get your palm where she most prefers it.
"Say it again," Irene sighs into your neck, clutching to the back of your shirt - white-knuckled at the seam. "Come on, you can be so charming when you want something."
"I wouldn’t push your luck," is all you choose to tell her.
You're hitting all the spots she wants you to hit anyway: her pretty pink cunt, slick, all wet for you already. Everything clenching as she arches her back, until she's hanging off the edge of the marble. You find it’s just enough leverage to fill her completely with your cock - stretching her out and open until her thighs bracket around your waist at the perfect angle.
"Or what?" Irene is out of breath, but hardly at a loss for words. "I know. You'll have to remind me how much smaller I am than you, right? So easy to keep pinned."
Well, if you really wanted: "Hah, ah - right." You get right next to her ear, muttering the words as deep as your chest can go - then take hold of her waist to put her in a spot she can't escape. And, by Irene's usual logic, once that happens, that's as much a victory for her as it is for you. You're being compliant, aren't you? The in and out: fucking her, filling her up, pulling your messy cock out of her pussy and slapping her clit just so she can hear how fucking soaked you make her, merely as a reminder-
"I wonder if she was even half as desperate," she moans against your jaw. "Her heart probably stopped the second you, ah - told her, what? About all of this?"
You stop fucking her, halfway.
"I’m sure you wouldn't be referring to Karina, right?" is where you glance at her. “I remember us both agreeing to chalk that up as a total absolute mistake. That was that.”
Irene just swallows, looks off somewhere over your shoulder. No one wears a blush better than her.
But she won't say it. Her honesty is such a privilege. The prodigy-type. Or at least, that's the word Irene chose. Then again, there’s you and your uncanny ability to turn a blind eye.
To the vice, the virtue, and everything in-between.
"So, can I ask," you press your lips together, finding the point of her chin with a gentle tap - you have her looking you straight back at you. The moment could let you drive back inside and fuck her brains right out, right there, like that - right through, instead: you watch her try not to squirm.
The tension in her upper chest, the rising heat that settles between her thighs, her weight struggling where you spread her knees, as far open as her body can allow. “How long exactly," you choose your words, careful and pointed, "are we going to pretend that she isn't texting both of us?"
You bury the question deep where she’s practically molten - hot and wet and so incredibly needy.
You do, again, and again. You pull her against you, watching that pretty brow scrunch and un-scrunch as your cock bathes in that soak. And hell, Karina had sent her a selfie today, is what she's explaining when you slow down enough - a bit of red, on her cheeks and her lips, and a lot of black, all the rest - the part about a midnight flight that's on hold until tomorrow morning. And then another, an hour later. To you both: her tits, the lace lingerie - so heavy, and soft, and easy to see yourself getting lost in-
Irene gasps at how fast you find all her favorite spots, then repeats - twice and again - hey, Karina said you're "such a cutie," and she sees her as the perfect mistress-material, don't you think? Wouldn’t it be ideal? The perfect fantasy? The perfect toy-
Obviously, that is morally bankrupt, even for the two of you. And you’re making sure she hears about it.
You ask her, point-blank: "are you really so selfish? So callous." It's ground out, slowly, against her hip, into her cunt. You've got Irene dripping wet, she's running everywhere, and you're telling her, "and this is your roundabout way of asking me to validate your twisted little ego?"
Don’t get it too confused: Irene lives for this shit; that sharp, hard-hitting tone - it drives her up the fucking wall.
"Duh. Tell me - just a guess," she presses her hands further back, arching into each push. The slim curves of her chest are bouncing, just under her sweater. "You like to feel so guilty and morose but I bet-" she chokes off mid-sentence, you know exactly how, the exact motion that has her wanting. She gets a leg over your shoulder with no effort at all, and your fingers find their place, digging into her hips as she locks into your thrusts.
Like fucking her is the only thing the two of you ever do.
Your whole body buzzes, it hums in resonance with where her gasps conflagrate to moans - you're pulling her slender frame down into every sloppy thrust and she takes you so fucking well.
"I bet it all sounds like, ah, the prettiest fucking music - in your head-"
“Fucking god, Irene-”
“Mhmm?” she fucking coos.
Because the things she wants to hear never actually leave your lips - your girl, fucking relentless.
Because the line between you fucking her and her fucking you becomes less distinct every time she rocks back and takes you deeper. Or when her mouth catches your next kiss a bit lazily. She takes over to swivel and slide her cunt up and around your length. So good that you have to keep her there. Hand locked onto her throat, digging a bruise or two in her collarbones, fucking her senseless against the countertop-
"Irene, fuck.” Your voice comes out thick, like gravel, and practically as an aside, “you’re going to make me-.”
Irene cuts you off, nodding, shh-shh’ing you into silence. “I know, baby. I know.” This total sigh of agreement - a hushed yes, or maybe uttering something she knows will sink right into your core, two words that sound a lot like “good boy.”
What, is that tacit approval? Probably. It’s hard to think straight.
So you bury yourself inside her, instinctually. Irene tips her chin up when she feels you paint her fucking womb. Every throb - with a fistful of her ass and your face pressed against her chest, sucking and biting and marking her anywhere, everywhere - right through her sweater. Fucking her so full that your mess is dribbling out all over the fucking floor, drip, drip, drip, and-
"Hey, I want you to know that I" - she sounds so amused as she cards through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead - "really couldn’t ever ask anyone except you."
(All is fair in love and war, is an adage Irene takes to its logical extreme, tangled in your sheets or with a dress puddled at her ankles. A silk stocking rolling down her leg, the crochet thrown into some dark corner.
You never say yes. You never really have to.)
This all before setting her down, off the edge, back onto her feet and taking another half-step forward and having the awareness not to completely flatten her under the full weight of your body, so she can run a hand down between the two of you and her fingertips can start gathering up all the cum you've pumped inside her. Irene tells you in her sweetest lilt to pay attention as she leans back up against the counter and gathers as much into her mouth as it will allow-
The sight alone.
When her head tips back, tongue passing over her knuckles, and she swallows-
"You are so," you sigh into her temple. Her cheek. You've settled the rest to the space in between. “Absolutely unbelievable."
She reaches out and trails the tips of her fingers lightly along the rise of your cock - her softness up against your hard lines. Her eyes flash when you twitch on the fucking spot. It's so tender all coming from her.
And there, a moment or two more. You can see it in the way she has her lips tilting, dreamy. You've always known what you were signing up for - how she's thumbing the nape of your neck - what her ideal outcome was, is. There's nothing and no one in front of either of you to bar the way.
You’ll make your vows like any other.
"Well, hey," she finally says, slow and husky and curling toward you with a smug self-satisfaction.
You push her hair behind her ears, the dark brown locks. Some part of you understands, unequivocally, that she is the absolute limit of how far you would go for any other person on the planet. No questions. In a heartbeat, without hesitation.
The kiss to the corner of your jaw is unironically chaste - before she’s telling you, "shouldn’t we get a move on it, chef? There’s food to eat, recipes to ignore; aren’t you fucking famished?"
-
The bolognese reduces down to a scorch in the cast iron. Too much heat, or too long, you got too preoccupied, who knows - there's a moral lesson to ignore here if you're so inclined. So it ends up being over a tray of sushi delivery that Irene explains to you her working theory like it's high-stakes political intrigue.
"Listen," she's got her chopsticks pointed at you, "for one, Karina, to her core, is a total seductress; and she's told me already, more or less to my face - she gets off on the chase, and hates the other shit. To be involved, or invested."
“Okay then why all the go-around; the wait-and-see; what’s her endgame?”
“What’s anyone’s endgame?” Irene shrugs. “Validation." She slips a tuna roll into her mouth.
"I think you might be projecting."
"Or, I'm simply an extremely empathetic person," her sarcasm hits harder through chewing - she almost gets you, and finishes swallowing to say, "look, she's like us if we were pretending to care, okay? Just more, like - explicit about her lack of intention. So. Doesn’t matter if it's to piss her manager off. Or it's like a revenge-slash-extortion-thing against someone she either had or is having an affair with."
"An affair," you repeat, skeptical.
"It's not like it’s an unheard-of workplace hazard, come on," and then the final confirmation: "she’s just into it because it sounds dirty and sexy, okay, like everything else-"
"And you figure we should be the ones to dole it out."
"What I figure," Irene says, doing that same mental calculus she did the first time: how, where, why - it's clear. A dozen different kinds of naked are an old, tired song by now. "I want us to fuck her. However she likes, whenever she likes, for however long she likes. Let her think she’s won something, or think she has you totally fucking hooked - I don't really care. Because it would be so much more satisfying to hear you tell me about it - because the idea of you two being like that for me. It's," her words pitch up a touch.
"That's the fantasy."
And Irene dives into the details. She explains what it could look like, all the more raunchy and ridiculous. This very specific arrangement. It makes no real sense, the conversation alone, and that, you decide - what can't be rationalized - is how she'll take it: by fucking both of you. That's the objective fact. That's the demand.
You listen until it feels less and less like the decisions have already been made.
“Okay, babe,” she’s presenting her case. “Hear me out.”
And she keeps going until you both can see it materialize: "if Karina thinks she can handle both of us, then both of us it'll be." It’s how her fingers end up buried in your boxers and around the throb of your cock. You hear the gentlest laugh Irene has as you start fucking softly into her grip, and she runs her thumb over your weeping slit until she finds you that much more malleable to the suggestion. Effortless almost, she lures the primal part of you from its confines and teases and prods at its wants and desires. Which is also how some charged vocabulary gets thrown in for good measure. Because no, no, no - she's murmuring into your mouth, tipped back, plush lips right above yours - it's not a cuckquean situation, or an open relationship, or anything like freeuse or whatever else might justify the concern. It's not even cheating, Irene’s explaining, strictly speaking, because who said you and I wouldn’t be doing it together?
(Lying by omission is the story you both live - and the difference: she's pathological. You’re just now getting the hang of it.)
"Fuck," is what you exhale out as she opens her fingers, offering. Her thumb glides across the expanse of your head, a trail of pre-cum drawn underneath a nail. And you know all the things her nails can do - can rip your heartstrings. "I mean. God damn. There has to be, like, terms."
There's still sushi sitting on the coffee table, and Irene is placing these kisses into the slope of your shoulder, your sternum, making a show of the movement, how she's traveling down, downward - to her knees. Where she finds the seat between your thighs and tugs your shorts, the fabric gathered down your leg-
"Let me handle it," she tells you, and there goes the cut of your t-shirt, shoved up to your chest. Her grip runs flat, down from the rise of your hip, fingers wrapping around, touching - the flat of her tongue laving across the tip of your cock until she decides to lower her jaw.
"Just think right now. How I want to fuck her and how I'd want you to fuck her, too-"
Right in her warm, wet little mouth.
Jesus, her tongue too-
She has it gliding up, around and against the swell of the underside. Rolling to where you need it, the places she knows you’ve died before. Lapping up the mess she's already gotten out of you-
Like this, Irene's looking at the way that the idea strikes: you and you and you; the only person in the whole goddamn world that can handle her; you fucking know it too - it's the most perfect, hopeless kind of thing. Like the feeling that catches at the apex of your lungs. It burns in your stomach and grips in your gut. She's gone and cut out the nerves - there's the crown of your cock caught in a velvet grip between those pretty pink lips and her fingers twisting at the bottom.
She breathes deep. Sinks her lips so slowly to the base. Anything, everything you want: to put your hands to the side of her head, to weave your fingers through her hair, and coax her, fuck her mouth like it belongs to you, all slow and hard and measured.
To hear all those wet sounds she makes as she chokes on the end of it. The gags as you force your cock into the back of her throat, holding her head tight, her hair pulled up into a fist, to have that mouth hanging around the length of you, tongue stuck to the bottom of her chin as you move her, your fiancée, your toy. To be looking her in the eye and watching her look the fuck back while she revels in every filthy second of it, not a single damn drop of hesitation or doubt.
"Really think," Irene urges, and she's all innocent when she tips her head to kiss her way up your cock.
She’s trying for some grace or finesse, or both - trying, you think, to make a point; instead, you end up watching her gulp and spit into her palm, just to obscure the sensual curl of her tongue with the sloppy-hard rhythmic stroke of her fist. "How hot it would be if you watched us both choke on your cum. Her face fucked stupid - the perfect little fuckdoll, is that not an image for the ages-"
You get a glimmer of that catlike grin - the one you would kill for a picture of. Something for the wallpaper, or the wallet; you've never met a boundary she hasn't challenged. The most depraved ideas in her head are just, as she is, a masterpiece. And so the answer has never changed - there has never been anything she's not been allowed-
"Trust me baby," she presses her cheek against your shaft. You feel her turn and run that mouth all over. The tip of her nose. Her eyelashes. The wet heat of her breath as she nuzzles the length. "Karina's all ours to share."
Her pout, right there, waiting.
You can't stop yourself from grabbing her face, the crook of her jaw, her neck and the tips of her shoulders. Until it all comes with a good, hard pull. The sound of her mouth on your cock, the blowjob she's been perfecting for years. It's starting to fill up the room, her lips wrapping your shaft - the sound of her being so obedient, the most receptive, sweet, pretty thing: letting you guide her pace until she has a steady motion going. Taking the thick base in her hands and working it over between her fingers. There's only enough room for that before you’re all the way inside her, in and out, again: the tip of your cock brushing over the softest curve of her throat.
When you take her at face value, it's fucking wild: your fiancée kneeling before you. Her chin and neck wet with her effort, lips wrapped so pretty, stuffed, used-
There are no questions. This is simply Irene, doing what she loves.
She pushes a hand between her legs and holds herself together as your hips tilt forward, meeting her halfway-
Just letting you get yourself off in her mouth like it's no big deal. It's her throat - it's her goddamn cunt and ass, and whatever else - because you fucking asked, right? Because you gave her the permission, the choice, the agency.
"Hey, where should I?" you’re muttering as you push the hair out of her face, already half-drunk on her slick lips and realistically only a few seconds away from doing some real damage.
There isn't a need; but you want her to tell you, to use her words. In her mouth, on her face, in her palm, you’ll go without thinking. You’ll cum straight onto your own stomach if it’s what Irene says. Even if she’s acting like you already have.
"Make sure you give her,” is what she garbles out around the hard line of your cock, and it’d be impossible to understand if you didn’t know every nuance to her, if you didn’t - you know - fucking love her. To have and to hold - to hold on tight and for better or worse, and this is pretty much as bad as it gets.
The syllables come in-between hollow breaths, all wet and sticky. When Irene wrenches the fuck out of it, the base of your cock- “hm, that same sort of courtesy when, agh, I'm not around-"
Because the image alone is what matters. There, getting your cock sucked like you've earned the privilege - it doesn't have to be real, it just has to look like it's a new truth to believe in. The little motions in her wrist are just - hah, fucking unreal - and the way she sinks down lower on her knees for each stroke, from base to tip - lips pressing over the knuckles she has wet, and squelching, and twisting up and down and up-
She places a hand under your balls, the gentlest cradle, and something of your restraint finally breaks - it snaps - her insistence is ruthless.
"Yeah, god, okay- I’m just gonna go ahead-"
There are these images in your head, of Irene: the upturned brows, the hollowed cheeks, and that slutty-as-shit smirk - and then of Karina: doing the exact same thing. Fuck, your cock is heavy, absolutely leaking cum: you can feel yourself leaking into the press of her mouth. It fills up her cheeks as she blushes into the fuck. Her lips become flush and go soft against the ridge of your shaft - her jaw slack in anticipation.
"Your fucking mouth, Irene" you breathe out, “I'm going to cum-”
Just at half the sentence, you're there, sunk into your fiancée's throat. Fingers across her ears and into her hair and watching her own hands pulling you, guiding you-
It’s all flexed in your back. Every muscle. Every fiber.
Irene hums onto a simple, satiated note. She always does, when she tastes it. When you dump a hot load of cum all over her tongue and straight into her throat.
(And yes, some might claim this is the death knell for all kinds of reasoning, but you’ll go ahead and admit it’s so, so worth it.)
"How thoughtful," she says, low and slow, once she's through swallowing the entire fucking thing.
The corner of her mouth tilts up. Because you're finished: two steps left in the brain from falling out of consciousness, a mess on the couch. You get to watch as she pulls you into sorts and slots each piece back to where it's meant to sit. The underwear, your pants. It's with such careful attention. Your soft cock gets cleaned with a tissue and wiped dry. A tiny parting kiss for the tip, her mouth full-on puckered, like she's kissing out anything you have left.
Though it's a pleasant daze. She prefers you soft like this, really.
All you have left to say is: "fuck me, baby." It sounds sloppy and open-ended as hell. "I guess I'll leave everything to you."
If that's a cue or sign for the evening, the only right thing: it isn't exactly misinterpreted.
-
The actual logistics don’t arrive for a handful more weeks. You find it surprising they ever happen at all.
// Karina 10:41 pm > i'm bored.
// Karina 10:42 pm > suggestions?
// 10:49 pm > have you tried looking into an incognito tab?
// Karina 10:58 pm > lol, and what is it i'm supposed to be finding?
// Karina 10:58 pm > help a girl out here.
"Send her a picture of your cock," Irene says, like it isn’t a joke. She looks up from the smutty-dash-of-romance-porn novel she's got herself wrapped in, with her best faux-serious expression. The pair of readers that usually are in her top desk drawer have made a new home perched low on her nose. "God knows she hasn't stopped leering since she found out what I'm marrying into."
"Please," you tell her, because she's full of shit. "I'm not sending her a dick pic."
Your laptop is warm on your thighs as you huddle on your side of the bed. That's the point of balance where it feels like Irene isn't trying to look. Though she clearly is. You flick up through a couple tabs just to drive the point home.
// 11:01 pm > sorry. i'm not in the business of just handing out freebies
// Karina 11:07 pm > really
// Karina 11:07 pm > thought we were making progress here
// 11:11 pm > you're funny
"Ask her if anyone's home with her." Irene dogears the page she’s reading and sets her book down. "Or ask if she's, like, tied up or something. Something edgy."
"Something edgy," you deadpan.
"Do you want me to put the readers away," Irene offers. She's wearing the sort-of smirk you always need to be wary of.
"No," you say. “God, no.”
"Ask her where she keeps her lingerie. Tell her she should be thinking about what it'd look like: all naked except a thong. With the straps digging into her. Tied up all nice and pretty-like."
// 11:13 pm > u alone right now?
"What the fuck?" Irene slugs a pillow at you. "That is the creepiest way you could've sent-"
// Karina 11:13 pm > yeah. i am :/
You and Irene are both struck a little dumb by that.
“Sheesh, she must have had her finger hovering over the reply button.”
"Yeah," you say, eloquent. “Who could blame her, though.”
"Uh-huh." Irene exhales, staring a bit pointedly.
// 11:16 pm > cool if I come over?
// Karina 11:17 pm > and… do what?
Irene nudges you with her heel, a questioning glance: the window has just been left there wide open and hanging. She whispers like Karina can somehow hear her through the phone, "you are terrible at sexting."
“Can you fucking leave it-”
Irene rolls her eyes.
// 11:18 pm > do you need ideas
// Karina 11:19 pm > got a couple. i wouldn't be against hearing something that lets my imagination fill in the gaps though
"Text her that you're into her throat and want her to show you her tits," and Irene actually cracks a laugh as she has the audacity to make the request. She's in good form this evening; in nothing but her favorite silk camisole - the navy blue one, which pairs great with all 5’2” of the rest of her. Like the soft curves she wears and everything else isn't bad for your heart. "Seriously, I want you to-"
"How am I supposed to end it?" You ask. The tone is purely sardonic. "Babe. Baby. My future wife. Tell me. You do realize you're basically asking me to bait her, right?"
Someone will eventually put their cards on the table, and Karina, Irene, and ostensibly you will realize you’re all currently having a mental break from reality. Or something along those lines. "I mean. Could that really be a negative," she wonders with an eyebrow quirked and another gesture of her arm like she wants to showcase the night sky beyond the bedroom windows.
"How, what - babe."
"You could promise to let her sit on it."
"Is the cockslut routine an act? Like," you lower your volume, "do you really have a playbook, here?"
"So mean." Irene reaches a hand over. She has her head propped on an elbow, the rest of her sprawled and comfortably positioned on the bed. And you wonder why the fuck you feel compelled to argue a point that so obviously has already been lost. "Just go fuck her already, god damn, I dunno."
Right. So. This was the part that was kind of inevitable - and Irene's impatience aside, you probably were about to win a lottery when you showed up at her door - that golden little interaction: "hey it's me, your rival at work's future ex-husband, I guess - I'm so horny and I think you're so beautiful and wouldn't it be so crazy if we, like, boned, haha, what?"
"Just- have sex. Tell me about it after."
The novel beckons Irene back toward it. She makes herself the picture of someone perfectly comfortable with you walking right into the next most uncomfortable predicament.
The sigh. That long, heavy thing. A leadup you do so often.
The simple idea of sending Karina that sort of message sends heat, low - just under the band of your sweatpants, and right where you've got yourself in the palm of your hand and you're already wondering how this is the result, why your cock is coming to a rise already - god damn - why every thought of Karina's face, and Karina's ass, and Karina's everything, every moment her lip is caught in between those teeth is becoming impossible not to touch. "Okay," you huff, "fine. I'm getting up, I'm going now- I mean it, right now, just give me a minute, I am putting my clothes on."
"Wait," and she's saying, "wait. Wait."
And when you turn around, Irene has this cat-that-ate-the-canary grin all stretched on the canvas of her face. She takes off her readers - her elbows thrown into her lap as she goes to the very edge of the mattress, pulling your shoulders for balance. "Babe-"
"Mm."
Irene likes to get you at a low simmer. The way she runs her thumb pad along your bottom lip. And all those questions - a look into her eyes - it's hard not to fold or break - when she's holding onto that sort of expression, unwavering; no matter how her mouth seems to get soft and curious.
Her lips move onto yours, asking - a push. And your eyes - a brush against a shoulder and you've already gone a whole mile from anywhere decent. There's the touch of her tongue between your parted mouths.
"You'll be good right?"
"I mean, sure," is what you manage, watching her lips close.
"You'll fucking wreck her, and do it exactly how she needs it done." And her brow, knit. She can tell your brain is busy jumping ahead to a hundred different scenarios. "Stop worrying."
There's a brief nod of reassurance. Her fingertips dust down your chest and the rest of the way. You hear Irene tell you to-
"And give her an extra hello from me."
"Okay, I love you, but also you're insane, like certifiable."
"Shush, I know you," and Irene gives your hair a little tousle before pushing you out the door.
-
You're standing there at the front door of Karina's apartment a little after midnight, bathed in dim, orange wicked fluorescence. Like it knows your sins - past, present and future. There's no obvious answer when you go knocking, and for a half-moment, you're thinking, okay, it's alright, this is how I let someone down easy-
Until she answers and leans out, pulling open the door. It takes you by surprise-
"Well, I'd normally let you in," you hear Karina say, and a smug smile starts to cross her face, "but..."
It's about the degree to which she looks hot and a little off kilter in this tight t-shirt - a snug pair of panties around the sway of her hips - that almost sends you spinning. There's not an ounce of self-consciousness; it's like a punch to the gut.
"Aeri's date went south and she's drunk. She's passed out on her bed, like, right now, I don't think-"
There's no bra. It's hard not to get fixated on every detail. Like her nipples, practically standing out. You have an irrational desire for her to take a step back, further into the room, further out of your vision's reach-
"Uhh," you croak. And you do have the mental faculties for, uh. For telling her. "Maybe, you know, later, could be better, yeah, maybe call me."
Though, unfortunately, the suggestion falls short on delivery.
"No, no." Karina has her hands searching up and underneath your sweater. Her fingers dance flat up, right over your stomach - teasing as she hikes you back inside. Right past the threshold. Your mouth is half-caught and stupid under her, the gentle hum and pressure on her lips. "It means we need to be quiet."
She drags you another step forward, with just the hot flash of her gaze.
"Shut the door behind you?"
"Locking it too," you tell her.
The laugh she makes into it, this one little scoff - it's an acknowledgment: an agreement. It's one of the worst fucking sounds, and the whole damn thing gets to you. Like her ass wasn't the perfect fit for the palm of your hands- like you don't want to trace your fingers under the elastic of her panties.
As if it wasn't fucking clear enough. It's the tongue in your mouth and the hands in her hair. She's kissing you soft, she's kissing you deep; her weight rests and pulls back with each swell of your ribs, pushing her fingertips down until they're skating, slow, low into the grooves of your spine. Like she's getting familiar with you again.
"Okay," you breathe. She laughs on your lips and presses forward - pulls you back, farther- "uhh. Okay."
She must see the confliction you're in-
"Hey." Karina keeps going until you've got her backed against a wall, until your thigh has pressed into the crux of hers and your hand is in her shirt. You don't miss how she lets her head tilt back when her eyes shut. It's her. There's no disputing the reality. "Whatever you want to do to me. That is all I've been thinking about. Do it."
"I- don't really-"
She makes a decent show of crossing her wrists and tugging her shirt right over her head. Tosses it someplace safe enough. "So are you just gonna leave me in suspense, or do you need my explicit, enthusiastic permission?"
Your lips draw themselves a blank on anything useful, while your heart rate accelerates.
"Here try this: you’re going to fuck me until I beg you to stop. Then you’re going to fuck me some more. Or whatever- then we can go somewhere, I don't care," she offers with a half-whisper. In all her goddamned glory - barefoot, almost bare chested - it's not like it could be any other thing.
-
You’re not exactly supposed to end up on your knees for this.
This isn't quite how you pictured-
Okay, fuck, Karina's making the prettiest noises where her spine is curling up against the wall; those sounds you couldn't even make up. How it feels like the easiest damn thing, because there isn't a question to why. Every inch of you is pressed to every inch of her. You know what you'll taste on your tongue, which of these breasts belongs in your palm and the fingerprints in the dips of her waist - her lips on the curve of your jaw - every mark and bruise on her skin, every hint of it is real; it's fucking you up because you're kissing the woman that Irene picked, the woman you met - it's how you pull yourself away-
Karina, for the longest few seconds, is shocked into stillness.
Because you could, of course, decide to give this one last shot, your head between her thighs and eat her out until she was so fucking wet your cock wouldn’t even enter the equation. This is not actually a new idea; the possibility has run through her mind enough times already.
"Yeah. That would work."
Like it's no big deal-
"Do you need instructions? I can get a bit graphic."
"Actually, you know what?" you choke a little, and - "trust me."
You stand straight up for a moment, a second, an extra fraction. You slip your cock inside her hot cunt, and, yeah. She collapses right into you. You’re holding up her just enough to fuck into - she's starting to breathe deeper, harder; you've got her pinned like that - a hand on her neck, fingers sinking into everywhere she's softest: her tits, her ass, her waist, her throat, and there is nothing that isn't some version of fucking glorious about Karina's weight grinding, heavy onto the tip and onto the ridge and down the thickest length of you-
And her face, jesus christ, her fine brows upturned, the tears heavy in her dark lashes, the little gasping-sobbing sounds that spill across her wobbling lips - this is the both the easiest and the hardest part: seeing her get absolutely fucking ruined-
(You know, god help you.)
-
Irene doesn't even have to ask. There are hickies and bruises shadowing in on your neck, your chest - these marks you never remember Karina giving you, and a ton of scratches all up your back.
"You know I was going to offer to make you breakfast," Irene says, smug, "but I'm wondering if Karina got to you first."
"What the hell do you think?" you say, dumb.
There are eggs burning on a skillet that are never going to be salvageable, no matter what Irene says. She has no respect for the process. And her voice is full of that infuriating smile: "was it everything you hoped?"
"God," you mutter, trying to mask the embarrassed laughter in your words. You can hardly move an inch on her behalf.
"At least tell me something fun, you insufferable tease," she presses her nose into your hair and tickles the spot on your side, just to be a pest.
You lay it all out for her. Everything she wants to hear.
-
Surprisingly, there’s still plenty to learn about each other; days to weeks to months. The first real thaw of the year comes, and you’re quick to fall into this odd rhythm.
Karina won't actually join Irene on set or production very often - too much heat. It shouldn’t have taken so long to figure out the two don’t belong in the same room together, and if they’d asked you, they’d know - but no one ever really does ask you. However she does spend more and more time around the apartment. In and out of your personal spaces. And maybe a bit in between, or a little underneath too: how she seems to slot herself right into every possible fold whenever Irene’s away.
Always traveling for this reason or that.
And god, the perfect powder keg Karina is - ticking, short-fused, all ready to explode. It’s ironic, you think, she’s drawn to scandal the way Irene will do anything to avoid it, and here, she's found her ultimate indulgence.
The quick lay, the time and place you know you can be patient in pulling her apart, the everything in between.
In fact, you’ve taken to calling her "babe" just so she doesn’t think twice when she gets your cum pooling deep in her cunt, all hot and sopping. Looking like the picture-perfect centerfold. The fucked-dumb face - all twisted in your grip, flushed-red; and the musky scent of sex; the noises and her presence alone. You fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her, rubbing a thumb across where the mascara runs thick.
To be the gorgeous girl, cock-drunk and fucked-out in your lap - so simple - so natural: Karina finds her way over more often than not.
After your shower, after your nap; your work, the bar - Karina’s never more than a text away. And you'll keep a hand around her waist as she stands around in the kitchen, stealing Irene’s leftovers out of the fridge. Karina ends up straddling your thigh right there at the breakfast table, holding onto the wood for support as she cums all over you.
The long and short of it is:
She's fucking you. She's fucking your fiancée. She sees no problem in having her cake and eating it too. The only caveat is: Karina thinks neither of you know what's actually going on.
“You gonna say hi to Irene for me?" she's teasing one day, snapping her bra back into place. The t-shirt pulled over all that glossy-dark hair, the shimmy of her hips just to get back into the world's tightest jeans. She presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. It's such a stark, clinical goodbye - ending with a flick of a thumb across a screen. "And oh, let her know if she ever wants me to teach her a trick or two. Anytime."
“Yeah, I’m sure she’d love that.”
Karina does the most insipid thing. She fucking winks. “I’m sure she would.”
-
"Uh, are you kidding me?" you ask Irene.
It's late one night, and Irene is standing in the kitchen in her pajamas with a welt the shape of Karina’s lips kissed right into her jaw. A couple drinks in your system have given you both a false sense of clarity, and also an ill-timed desire to solve all your goddamn problems. You lower your voice. "In her ass?"
Irene has that all-triumphant and dopey grin that makes your heart ache for her. There's a soft curl of her hair loose, thrown across a shoulder. "I’m serious, pull her hair right, hold her wrists until her back has to be arched. Pin her to the bed," she continues to illustrate, "it's all in the finer points of how much. Tell her to count, even. I'm not joking-"
She takes another spoonful of yogurt between her lips.
"-she'll let you do anything, promise."
“That’s fucked up.”
“I know.” Irene wags the spoon at you. “It’s great.”
-
It's not only the hypothetical-homewrecking that gets Karina so torridly wet for the whole affair; when she's pinned beneath you with her legs spread and her toes pointed skyward, or perhaps later - the same day even - riding Irene's face in a locked dressing room and crying out - "ah, hah, jesus, please-"
In her head, she has you both at her beck and call. Forget semantics - Karina is a fool to her own illusion. Because in her head, not only has she managed to go toe to toe with the industry's reigning monarch, she’s managed to win.
-
You don’t exactly know how Karina ever intends to keep it casual. Because things are damn near constant:
It’s a weeknight, and the moon is high above the windows, casting a crisp rectangle onto the hardwood; it doesn’t actually matter, as far as Karina is concerned.
Irene’s on television again, the sequin in her dress clinging tight, and she’s found the gaze that never breaks for the cameras. Found the flash of her most practiced smile - that little chime of laughter she has that sounds like striking pure gold.
Then Karina: sitting cross-legged at the very end of the sofa. One leg thrown over your thigh, she’s got these nylons on her feet and she’s poking a toe into your ribs. "Isn't she stunning," you hear her muttering, "honestly. Doesn't it, like, turn you the fuck on?"
Her foot grazes your lap, all casual at first; the impossibly soft-curved heel of her sole. There are so many ways she'd prefer to pass the time and they almost all involve getting under your skin, if not just outright getting into your pants.
“Elaborate.”
"I mean listen, in your case, just knowing your fiancée is up there looking like a total angel and at the same time, thinking about you; how she’s got to be considering every which way she’ll unwind just after the showcase - at least, that’s what I’d be doing." She licks her lips, teeth. "Hell, I’m only imagining how pretty her eyes are when she can barely keep them open, and that’s enough to ruin my panties."
"Are you really."
She shifts her weight. Puts that ankle to good use. Rubbing it into the crease between your legs. "Tell me," her lips curl. She’s looking at you dead-on. "How does she usually prefer it, hm?”
Like a wildcat, you suppose, your Irene - a pretty, little predator. You could tell Karina everything, but you don’t. Instead you let her wander into the lair of her own making. Her eyes: light and curious; it’s written in the lines of her face how she's picturing it all so plainly.
“I’d guess she lets you go slow. Or hard. Or maybe a little rough and then you make her cum, and then maybe, just maybe, after the teasing; after the edging, I guess, that's when she comes in hot. I would hope."
Karina twists her foot around, swings her weight onto your lap, and sucks in a sharp breath when you reach out and grip the lean lines of her hips. It’s as easy to hold her still as it'd be to drag her across the couch and under the rest of your body, fuck the goddamn tension until there was no longer any room left for the pretty smirk in her lips. And her gasp would probably sound a hell of a lot better - than all the needling quips - a much louder and much less-pretend whine when you could throw those thighs open and really pound her wet, aching little cunt-
“Easy,” she chides when you end up taking two handfuls of her chest. "Shouldn’t you be more supportive? For god’s sake, it’s your fiancée’s moment in the spotlight, you know-"
There’s nothing stopping you from popping off the buttons of her dress, one by one by one - and kiss right there, into the swell. Your voice feels all the rougher when you respond, "and what a moment."
Her fingertips skim over the places she's been kissing you, where she's been marking and claiming and trying to, at least, to stamp you like her personal property - when the look is that serious. All cold-burn. Right through to the bone.
“So.”
You can feel her touching into your pants. The heat in her soft, silky thighs; she sits above you, keeping a leg on each side. A part of you feels trapped; another is confused why you aren't turning the tables right now - flip her and ride out her cunt on the couch. Some passing thought, or just a fraction, the only one that matters in that particular instant, wonders what Irene would do, will do - has done - in your situation. How her hips would roll. How Karina’s moan might sound when she dug a nail right into a sweet spot.
You push Karina's skirt a little farther up her body and try to gauge the moment she's finally decided she doesn't mind.
“How about you keep your eyes on her, and I'll suck your cock while you do," ends up being the short and not-so-sweet of it all. “-or maybe you can get off between my tits.”
She wraps those fingers around your base and pulls gently. It's not a decision, but merely a continuation, a culmination: a gesture made entirely to pull the response: the hitch to the throat. Her nails skim that ridgeline as her eyes track across the cut of your features. It makes you groan into her next kiss, to say, "if you wanted it so bad, babe, you could’ve just said. Would save us a lot time-"
"Are you complaining?" she husks, pulling your pants down your thighs. Your cock is in her hands and she smiles like a cat - licks her teeth when it twitches at just the slightest touch. "Yeah, I didn't think so," is how the breathless laugh leaves her lips.
You catch the quirk of her brows, her tone: straight-up, like nothing. You’re almost buying into that until she's got your shirt on the floor, those lips of hers in the divot of your collarbone, and her tits wrapped around the base of your cock, and, well, fuck-
She actually wastes no time - none at all. A couple feet away, Irene covers her laugh with one hand. There's a brass award in her other. And the television casts this soft, pale glow.
Karina tips her head, and a curtain of her dark, silken hair spills across the ridge of her breast. She runs those big eyes over you, all wide and round and vaguely-deviant. There's the perfect amount of motion, of squeeze, just a light-bit of pressure, and she's got a face smug-arrogant in an instant, knowing. Fuck, her hands on either side start pushing into the line of her cleavage as she bounces and rocks and draws every inch of your cock up through her soft tits and back down again.
"Fuck," is the harshest exhale she's ever dragged out from you.
She hums a low sound, all self-satisfied when it's her own namesake: your body wants her, like you know the full weight of her needs, your touch, how badly she's fucking craving to get off and still not admitting to anyone it might be more than sex. Like it's really as easy as her next breath, the flutter of her lashes: Karina wants your eyes, the weight of your attention and she's not going to beg for a fucking thing. The feeling, you think, is mutual.
"Irene," she says, her smile as open as it could ever get. "She's just so gorgeous, right?"
On one hand, she’s speaking between the lines. A perfect tincture of deceit - the bawdiness-by-nature: watch me, look at me - is what she might as well say - look what I can fucking do, the whole lewd display. And, god, how she knows every way to make a guy want it, like she wants you to remember it.
Because on the other, the movement is so, so direct.
Karina twists herself in an upward tilt, just an easy, practiced thing; she lets her tits spill around your cock and through her fingers, full and soft - and her lips part, mouth slacking alongside yours, matching the sounds out your chest with her own. Like she knows exactly which slide of slippery friction will make you moan, or which pull and drag will send your teeth straight into your lip.
"Isn't it crazy," she lolls her head a little, letting her own saliva drip down the center, onto your weeping slit. "How much I want your cum filling my cunt, even knowing she's the one you'd rather put the ring on," the drag and drag and drag - her tits are fucking incredible, and she knows it. She pushes up with her fingers and gives you a long draw right through the press, right where the nerve endings run electric, right where she keeps moving, up and down, and up and down-
“-it must be hard, I mean, jesus christ. Here I am, needy and hot. Begging you to wreck me and my only sin, hm - the sin of being second best, right-"
"Holy fuck, you're-"
"Obsessed," she says, and drops her tits against your waist again. "I know, I know. How could I not be?"
You're left muttering into the titfuck alone, watching her rub your precum up between their soft shape, feeling the slight give, how her skin goes warm. The act itself: such a simple-thing-bordering-on-the-absurd that you notice how you coil and flex beneath her curves, how she feels so soft and warm. The slight pucker of her lips every time your cock escapes her cleavage does little to help. It's probably the fault of the brain-fuck but the wet of her mouth is practically everywhere you look. You could eat her alive right here, spread her legs on the coffee table and finish with a bit of screaming, groaning and tearing, and no one would ever stop you.
But instead,
"-it's a good color on her, really; but then every color is a good color on her, isn't it so unfair?" She's taking your cock into her tits, deeper on every rock forward and back, holding them close - a gentle lock of those long manicured fingers keeping it all together. "Even wearing no color at all; you must just love how all the freckles are so easy to see," she murmurs, squeezing tight. The sound is wet, messy. A filthy chorus between her dirty words and the dirtier action, and just that glimpse of friction when she strokes down again is maddening. You're all slippery. So sticky-slick, so tight.
Of course there's not a fucking inch of a reaction out of her; you want to get off so bad-
"You could close your eyes," she tells you. "She would still be there. The sound of her laughter. The image. In that dress or not," and her mouth furls into a half-smile before she pauses. Reaches down, pulls her tits around you impossibly tight. "Just so damn pretty-"
You cum just like that:
"Babe," is what you let her have. The soft, undercurrent hiss. "Fuck."
You shoot clean up, all thick, hot splatter.
Well, mostly up - along the expanse of her neck and throat, coating where her breasts sit so pretty against the lines of your thighs. Across her sternum and the hollow of her neck - her body's covered in your shared mess: slick-filthy-hot, all strewn across her perfect tits.
"Jesus, Karina, baby you’re-"
"Completely covered in you." She's still smiling. That deep-cut and perfectly symmetrical curl of her lips. The gorgeous fucking shade, and her chin, how her cheeks flush, just a little - they've always turned pink in the most specific places when she gets fucking cum-soaked. “I know, just look.”
And her hands slide across her chest, trailing a path through the thick of your release, spreading the glaze all down her front. Making it messy, making the exact look a guy sees once and is driven to the ends of his sanity - just to spill his load out onto her. To get her all used, and trussed up: just how she likes.
(Sanity is being generous, considering.)
You can't do anything other than what's expected: take her up in a kiss, breathe into the mess you've made on her skin. The gasp is full, surprised - just enough, maybe, to count as genuine.
Such a mess - she murmurs - um, come on then, you can do a girl a favor. Bath bomb, bath towel, bath robe - and really it doesn't have to be a suggestion.
You’ll pin her down and fuck her right over the lip of the tub if that’s what she really wants. Just being in her company is indulgent and excessive and begging you to make a terrible habit of it. Have some self–restraint, she has this tone in her voice sounding more and more like a dare. There's just enough there in her hands: one reaching for you and the other reaching into the porcelain, swirling up the lather - and that look on her face, as if to say, can't believe you have me waiting, like some desperate, depraved pervert - only it’s more explicit than that. Only it feels worse - and her mouth is moving again, speaking into the air that already feels stifling hot, words cutting through the steam: you're not very nice, I mean really, it should come as no surprise how she turns out, having this jerk for a fucking boyfriend-
Nevermind. Not a dare, it's a challenge. She was right the first day you undressed her, the brattiest girls always have the worst kinds of fantasies, the darkest little tendrils of self-destruction. How she's laying there, asking and telling, pushing and pulling; and how she thinks she's so clever too.
Though that is no reason, she laughs, for you to think she won't love having her pretty cunt cockwarmed and spoiled for an evening or more.
-
And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.
-
(Really, to Irene’s credit, she had Karina pegged right from the jump. A character study in, well, herself.
She's seen as an ingénue by the press, and an outright savant to the executives. They know her as the obvious successor. They give her the runway, they watch the leggy-girl-turn, the model-posture, chin held high and aloof, looking down at the gathered throngs of photographers.
The protégé, the goddamn heir-apparent:
But her favorite game - that bit of innocence served on a platter, ingenuous when it comes to spinning a flaw to gold, and the deception too - Karina loves and loathes every second she spends upstage from Irene's own, hectic, international production. Because if anyone asks her, that girl would claim it's never been a competition in the first place.
So you see, if you and yours have both decided to ruin her-
You and your step sister, Ji-min, continued the unspoken joy game pleasurably. The new touching rule we added got bolder as we got more comfortable with each other. At the start, we would only touch each other lightly, but it increased gradually. Ji-min would now squeeze your ass, play with your balls, and stroke your cock, which you would get up for her enthusiastically. In return, you would fondle her breasts, pinch her nipples, and graze her slit, all while drawing soft moaning sounds from her. Also, your stepmom, Joo-hyun, was naked every couple of days, on top of your step sister's daily viewing, which made you horny all the time.
During this time, Joo-hyun completely embraced our naked out-of-the-shower routine and took it even further than we had. She would take a shower and then stay naked after, usually just in her room but sometimes around the house too. You overheard your father mention it to her one day. It was late, and you're guessing she had just gotten out of the shower. You went downstairs for a drink of water and couldn't help but overhear your parents talking, their bedroom door open.
"Babe, do you want something to drink from the kitchen? I'll go get some water," your stepmom asked your father.
"No thanks, honey," you heard your father answer. "But aren't you going to put something on?" he asked.
"No, I'm just going to the kitchen for a sec," she answered.
"But what if one of the kids comes down?" Your father continued.
"So they'll see me naked," she answered, "Who cares?"
You tried to look like you hadn’t been eavesdropping and walked to the kitchen after hearing your stepmom's footsteps. When you walked into the kitchen, you were greeted by a glimpse of her sensual tight ass while she was pouring herself water. She turned around when she heard you step into the kitchen and smiled her usual smile at you, not saying a word and giving you a great sight of her lovely breasts and pussy, her golden bush a bit more wild than the previous time you saw her naked. You took a glass, poured yourself some water and drank in silence, stealing glances at her incredible naked body before putting the glass in the sink and climbing back upstairs without saying a word.
You kept on seeing her naked every couple of days. Sometimes just glimpses, like of her going into the laundry room and then quickly back to her room, and sometimes she would walk around, organising the kitchen or bringing up laundry, enjoying the naked freedom and not caring if you or Ji-min saw her. Maybe she even enjoyed it when we saw her, showing off her spectacular nude body.
You did the most extreme thing you'd ever done after seeing Joo-hyun wash the dishes in the kitchen naked a few times previously. You held out your middle finger as Ji-min walked out of the shower, waiting for her daily gift, and as she approached you, you carefully slid it into her warm, tight pussy, fingering her as she let out a low, pleasure-filled, close-eyed groan before barely making it into her room.
With the sensation of her warm pussy and its smell still radiating from your finger, you quickly entered the bathroom, undressed, and let the warm water cascade over you. Your cock was rock hard and you masturbated to the recent image, sniffing her scent with your free hand. You came fast and hard. After that, you continued to stand in the hot water, attempting to calm yourself after what you had just done to her. The shower started turning cold. You turned it off and dried yourself, thoughts of Ji-min still running around your mind.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, you heard footsteps ascending the stairs. For a brief while, you spotted your stepmom carrying a stack of clean sheets that appeared to block her vision of you. She climbed to the top of the stairs and stuffed them into a hallway closet. She suddenly became aware of your presence. We were both completely naked, just as we were on the day we were born.
You locked your gaze on her. The majority of your cock was limp. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, her tits were as stunning as ever, and her pussy was freshly shaved with a well-trimmed strip of hair. It's most likely a surprise for your father, who returns from a week-and-a-half conference tomorrow. Joo-hyun returned your stare, focusing on your dick as it expanded to its full length from her bare body's view. She switched her gaze between your eyes and your cock, as if she was surprised that her body could harden your cock. This was too much for you, and you had a nervous breakdown. You grasped her shoulders and waist and slammed her against the wall.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" She said, alarmed, but without showing any physical resistance. While keeping your left hand on her shoulder, you carefully moved your right hand from her waist to her thigh, touching and caressing her delicate skin. Then, carefully glide your hand up her thigh and begin stroking her pussy with your palm.
"No Y/N, don't, you can't," she said when you started rubbing her pussy, but still she did not resist even a little.
"Ooohh oooohhhh, God," she groaned as you shoved your middle finger into her cheek. Before you pushed it back in, you slowly took your finger out, feeling her moisture on it. She entirely succumbed to you, only quiet sighs and sounds of enjoyment coming from her mouth as you lustfully finger-fucked her.
"Ooohhh Ji-min!, Aaahhh," she shouted out between groans, unable to contain the second. You looked to your left, where Joo-hyun was looking, and stopped fingering her. Suddenly, your step sister appeared at the door to her room, standing in her normal spot. She was naked and caressing her pussy with her hand as she stood there watching us. Joo-hyun began to squirm, staring at her daughter with an uncomfortable expression on her face and attempting to pull your finger out of her. In a few fast steps, your step sister had closed the distance between us and was standing inches away from you and your stepmom. She gently removed your hand from her mother's shoulder and guided it towards her pussy with both hands, without saying anything.
You instantly understood her intention, and just as Joo-hyun managed to pull your finger out of her, you simultaneously entered your fingers into both pussies, raising cock hardening mother - daughter moans. Ji-min's pussy was very wet, so you pushed her back against the wall, just like her mother. As their groans grew louder, you slipped a second finger inside each, thus pleasing them with both middle and index fingers. You gave each of them a final deep thrust with your fingers before slowly pulling them out, the two women floating back to earth, their sexual juices soaking your fingertips.
"Come on," Ji-min said as she regained her composure. She dragged you and your stepmom through her room by the arm. As ee walked inside Ji-min's room, both of them staring eagerly at your erect cock, the sight and feel of their bodies just encouraging it to get harder.
"Lay down," Joo-hyun said for the first time in a while. You immediately responded by flopping down on the queen-size bed, grabbing one of the large pillows and placing it behind your back, your cock pointing up at both of them.
On both sides of you, the girls sat down, and Joo-hyun took command first. She took your dick in her hand and began gently caressing it. She drew her face closer to it after a few strokes and softly inserted the tip of your cock into her mouth. She licked the tip of your shaft warmly and then took her hand away, slowly putting more of your shaft into her mouth until it was more than halfway in. She began bobbing her head up and down, pulling your cock almost all the way out and then pushing it back in, each time sliding on her warm tongue almost to her throat. You let out a soft gasp as she brilliantly sucked your cock. She grasped the base of your cock and pulled her lips off a few more times, making a huge suction sound. Then, she offered your cock to Ji-min by tilting it towards her.
As Ji-min began sucking on your cock in her mouth, your stepmom gladly held it for her. She wasn't quite as skilled as her mother, but she made up for it with eagerness, trying to take in more with each blow until the tip of your cock touched the back of her mouth. Unfortunately, that was too much for her, and she gaggingly backed away quickly, breathing hard. Joo-hyun's expression was filled with sympathy as she took her daughter's place by sucking your dick. You could feel your orgasm rising after only a few more blows from her.
"I'm gonna cum" you called out. Your stepmother was well-versed in the situation. She landed two more rapid blows on your cock before removing it and seeking something else besides her. She grabbed your cock by the full length and began stroking it in circular twisting motions.
"This is what you want to do when they cum," she informed your step-sister, holding her daughter's black bra in her other hand. She continued stroking you while wrapping one of the bra's cups around your cock. As she stroked you, you let out a long, loud moan as the orgasm hit you, releasing your load into the cup of your step sister's bra. The whole situation seemed to interest Ji-min. You moaned loudly in response to the strokes, delight pouring through your veins till the orgasm passed.
"She can also take the guy's cum in her mouth and swallow it," you joked after cumming was over.
"Don't listen to him," Joo-hyun told Ji-min, as she stroked your drained cock with a few more harsh strokes. She tossed your step sister's bra on the floor after wiping your cock with the other cup. Your cock was now completely limp. You sat up on the bed between them, observed Ji-min's hand caressing her pussy, and stood up.
"I believe it is now my turn," you murmured as you looked down at them. "Sit next to each other and lay down." They didn't say anything as they moved around on the bed and got comfortable. Their womanly mounds rose and fell in time with their breathing, and they were both laying on their backs, lust in their eyes. As they lay next to each other on the bed, they gently spread their legs, revealing their lovely pussies. You knelt in front of them on the floor and grabbed them both with your hands. You began touching the tops of their pussies, trying to decide who would be the first to taste it. Your left hand was still caressing your stepmom pussy as you moved your head to between Ji-min's knees, viewing her pussy from only inches away and smelling her seductive scent.
Ji-min let out a long moan as your tongue made contact with her pussy lips. You ran the tip of your tongue along her slit all the way up and gently touched her clit, causing her to let out another pleasure-filled moan. Because you couldn't concentrate on rubbing your stepmom while working on your step sister, you removed your hand from hers. You caressed Ji-min's smooth thighs all the way up till you reached the outer folds of her pussy with your hands on her legs. She was extremely sensitive to your touch, groaning repeatedly as you stroked, licked, and caressed her. You spread her pussy apart with your thumbs, inserting your tongue further while keeping your palms on her smooth white thighs. As she released another groan, you pulled your tongue out of her cunt and raised your head from between her legs to look up. Her face was lit up with a sexually seductive expression.
Joo-hyun was staring at us, obviously fascinated by the whole thing, and she was rubbing herself in the same place you were. You moved from Ji-min's legs to Joo-hyun's. She took her hand away from herself, lustfully awaiting you to eat her pussy. You caressed her petite thighs. You inhaled her feminine scent before dipping your tongue into her vagina and tasting her for the first time. She inhaled deeply, causing you to gaze up at her while she kept a close eye on you, your tongue examining her private parts in the process. Her pussy was wet, but not nearly as much as her daughter's. You licked her pussy lips apart and inserted your tongue deep within her, brushing her slit and licking her clit with the tip of your tongue in circular motions. While you were licking her, she gave out a few small grunts. You tried to discover her most erogenous point by sticking your tongue deeper and finally licking and sucking where her clit was, which, predictably, gave out the loudest moans.
You returned to your step sister's after thoroughly caring for your stepmom's vagina. You raised your head and shifted it between her legs. Before re-entering her, you kissed her silky thighs and the outer folds of her pussy. Ji-min let out a high-pitched moan as your tongue touched her and began snaking around within her feminine part, exploring the interior once more. You moved your hand up her body till you found her boobs and began fondling them, feeling the smooth flesh of her breasts and running your finger over them.
"Aaaahhhh, Oppa!" She groaned loudly as your fingers blindly found her nipple, rugged and rock hard. You continued to lick and suck her pussy in response to her rising groans, fondling her other breast now and looking for her erect nipple. Her breathing became harder, her moans and screams became more audible, and you could see she was on the edge of a climax. You ran your tongue over her slit while looking for her clit. When you discovered it, you gave her a few gentle licks all over before forcing your tongue on her to finish her off.
"Yes! AHHH! "she yelled out as the orgasm hit her with force. Her ferocious orgasm had finally faded, and she lay gasping on the bed, her entire body helpless. Your cock had returned to being hard by this point.
"I'll be right back," you said to your stepmom and your step sister as you got up on your feet and left the room. You dashed into your room, unlocked the drawer under your bed, and extracted a wooden box. You hurried back to Ji-min's room with two condoms in your hand after opening the box and hoping to use both. When you entered the room, you noticed that both ladies had taken their seats on the bed. Ji-min appeared to be recovering, but she was still breathing heavily. As you entered the room, they both turned to face you, and you showed them the condoms in your palm, explaining why you left. Before turning her attention to her daughter, Joo-hyun gave you an approving nod, proud of you for thinking about safety.
"Are you a virgin?" she asked suddenly of Ji-min. Your step sister's lower lip was bitten, and she blushed slightly. She had a terrified expression on her face and remained silent. She made eye contact with you first, before turning to look at her mother and shaking her head to indicate she wasn't. Your stepmom was taken aback but said nothing. You placed one condom on the desk next to the bed and signalled Joo-hyun to come. She recognised your signal and moved to the bed's edge, laying back down and spreading her legs. You ripped open the condom and rolled it over your fully erect cock, feeling both ladies' gazes on it. You grabbed her by the waist and dragged her closer to the bed's edge, her pussy directly in front of your dick.
"Are you sure you want this?" While glancing at your stepmom, you inquired.
"Fuck me Y/N" She responded with a smile. You could tell she was obsessed with you. With the tip of your cock, you rubbed a tease of her pussy a few times before positioning it just below her shaved landing strip. You pushed it in slowly until the full length of your condom-wrapped cock was deep inside her, and she stayed completely silent the entire time. You, on the other hand, let out a sensational moan. It felt incredible to slide into Joo-hyun. Her pussy swallowing your cock deeper and deeper while pressing in around it. You came to a halt when your cock was fully immersed in her cunt, savouring the sensation. You carefully pulled it out and slammed your cock all the way in, causing her to moan loudly as you had hoped. You started fucking her professionally now, sliding your cock almost all the way out and then pushing it back in rapidly, letting her feel the entire length of it with each stroke. Her moans only grew louder as you continued to penetrate her. You were enjoying fucking her while she lay on her back, looking down at you. Your cock disappeared inside her cunt's entrance. You could see her breasts bounce forward and back with each thrust of your dick within her, and you could hear her moaned with pleasure. While you were fucking her, you reached down and began gently fondling her tits.
Meanwhile, Ji-min had calmed down and was lustfully watching you fuck her mother. She slid down on her bed and was now in the same posture as her mother, indicating that she was fully prepared for you. You slowed down the fucking of your stepmom till to a complete stop and backed away. Before doing anything with your cock, you bent down and licked momentarily on both of her stiff nipples, something you'd been wanting to do for weeks. Ji-min let out a little groan and a giggle. When it came to her nipples, she was apparently ticklish.
"Are you sure about this Jiminie?" You asked your younger step sister. She glanced across at her mother, who said nothing, before returning her gaze to you and nodding. You slid your cock, still in a condom, into her vaginal opening and pushed it in slowly. She let out a moan as the tip of your cock entered. Her pussy was drenched in her juices, making it easy for your cock to slide in. You slowly inserted your cock deeper into her, becoming familiar with her tight cunt as she became comfortable with your big cock. You came to a halt and allowed her pussy to adjust to the presence of your cock. You carefully pulled it out after a few seconds, both of you and Ji-min moaning. You repeated the action twice more, inserting your cock and then slowly pulling back, hushed moans escaping our lips until only the tip of your cock remained inside her. After that, you could feel her pussy becoming used to your dick, so you rapidly plunged your dick into her tight pussy for the fourth time. The sensation was incredible.
"AAAAHHHHH" Ji-min screamed out in pain at your quick plunge into her pussy.
"Y/N stop, pull out" You got a scream from Joo-hyun. You responded, startled, and totally removed your cock from your step sister's pussy.
"Are you okay baby?" She asked first, her face concerned. She reached over and began caressing her daughter's pussy with her hand. "Yeah, Jiminie are you fine?" You asked shortly after, "I'm really sorry".
"I'm fine." Ji-min responded, a little shaken, "I don't want you to stop since it was so enjoyable. Just don't shove everything in until I'm ready. That was painful. "
"You got it, Jiminie," you said gladly. You return your attention to her pussy.
"Wait!" Joo-hyun said, "I have a better idea. Y/N lay down on the bed. " You had no idea what she had planned for you, but you followed her instructions and lay flat on your back on the bed between your stepmom and step sister. Your dick is pointing up.
"Now honey, sit on top of your brother's cock." Joo-Hyun said, "This way you control how fast he is fucking you." Ji-min seemed to enjoy the idea as well, particularly the part about her deciding how fast we fucked. She stood up and climbed onto the bed. She then took a step forward, towering over you, and slowly lowered herself to face you. As she lowered herself on your stiff cock all the way down, she looked you in the eyes. You kept out a resounding groan. She managed to lift herself off your cock, only to lower herself one more time. She raised and lowered herself a few more times from your shaft, her tight, lovely pussy swallowing and clamping around your dick each time. She began to speed up the pace, until her pussy and your cock were comfortable enough with each other for her to begin quickly bouncing up and down on your cock. She was bouncing wildly on your cock now, causing her beautiful tits to jiggle and bounce in all directions, feeling the full length of your cock glide into her with each insertion till she reached climax. The tightness of her pussy gripping your cock every time it entered her was incredible.
"Ooohhh fuck" Ji-min announced "I'm cumming!". You held her by the waist with both hands, knees on the mattress, pussy over your cock, and then shoved your cock into her from underneath. When she climaxed, you quickly rammed your cock into her. Even though she gave out a loud, high-pitched squeal, you still fucked her. She then proceeded with a series of moans and groans that ended with her body shaking violently. Your dick was still inside her at the time, and her entire body trembled with the joy of a female orgasm. Her body gave out on her at the top of her climax, and she couldn't keep herself up any longer, so you were supporting her by the waist. You slowly lowered her onto your lap and pressed her bare body against mine, pressing her head against your chest and letting the last of her climax pass while she let out little sobs of utter pleasure. You turned her over to her back, slowly pulled your cock out of her, and climbed to your feet after the last of her climax went out. You moved your focus to your stepmom, who was frantically fingering herself after seeing the climax of her baby girl. She smiled sexily when she observed that your cock was still erect.
"Come on, honey," your stepmother beckoned, "come fuck mommy." Your stepmom walked around the bed, kneeling in front of her sexually drained daughter, her firm ass inviting you to fuck her doggy style. You approached her from behind, grabbing her lovely behind and squeezing and kissing it. You dropped down on your knees behind her on the bed and positioned yourself for penetration.
"You can go ahead and take the condom off," she said, to your delight, "you don't need it with me." You enjoyed the air on your stiff dick as you peeled the rubber off. Then, you adjusted yourself behind her, both hands on her waist, anticipating seeing her bare back and matted hair, as well as your step sister, who was watching you as you entered your bare cock into her mother's. As the full length of your cock penetrated Joo-hyun, she let out a moan and arched her back. As your cock made direct contact with the walls of her pussy for the first time, you let out a loud groan. At the sound of another moan, you pulled your cock almost all the way out, then reinserted it. Slapping sounds echoed in the room as you fucked her rhythmically, each thrust generating another slap as our bodies touched and you slammed against her ass. You were fucking her so hard, trying to get her to cum and prepare for the climax.
"Oh God! Y/N! Don't stop! " Joo-hyun screamed out after a series of loud moans.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Keep going! "she said, as she was finally overtaken by an orgasm. As the pleasure reached her, she let out a yell and her entire body spasmed. As you held on to her and continued to fuck her during the climax, you could feel her pussy clamping down on your cock. Her hands gave out on her as the intensity of her climax grew, and she gently fell into her daughter's lap. The most beautiful thing happened as the last waves of her orgasm rushed through her. She was laying her head on her daughter's lap when she suddenly drew her tongue out and began licking her own daughter's pussy. Ji-min, including you, was absolutely taken aback by this. Your stepmom was still buried in your step sister's pussy when you let out a loud moan and said, "I'm about to cum." You fucked her as quickly as you could, using every ounce of strength you had left as the climax hit you full force. You fired your full into your stepmom and causing you to gasp with delight. You continued cumming within her with all your might while pumping her cunt. When you climaxed, she stopped sucking Ji-min, had another tiny orgasm of her own, and screamed hoarsely with the last of her strength.
It finally came to a halt, and you collapsed onto the bed, clutching your stepmom. We were all drenched in sweat as we laid on the bed. Ji-min and you were on both sides of Joo-hyun, who was in the middle. We were all quiet, lying there weary from the sexual adventure we'd just gone through. When you fell asleep, Joo-hyun had her back to you while she was looking at her daughter.
You awoke a few hours later, staring out the window at the first rays of morning. The light was still on in the room, two sleeping ladies were still on the bed next to you, and there was a heavy musk of female pussy in the air. You stood up to turn off the light and gazed at them just before pressing the switch. They were both stunning as they slept there naked.
You eventually got back into bed after turning off the light. You lay there for a few moments, reflecting on the unique sexual experience you had just had, fucking both your smoking stepmom and your lovely step sister. You pinched your arm a little to make sure they were genuine, to make sure you weren't dreaming, but they were as real as it gets. You knew things would get a lot more interesting around the house from now on.
It has always been mommy eunbi but I have never seen a piece with breeding kink eunbi I think that could be a fun one to read
Mission Accomplished
Kwon Eunbi x M!Reader Smut
Tags: daddy kink, rough sex, breeding kink, Eunbi being the best girlfriend ever
Another request that's been in my drafts for too long. Hope you enjoy. Whole thing is based off the photo below ;) Too much girlfriend vibes.
7855 words of Kwon Eunbi by yours truly.
#BreedEunbi
The land that has been mined for riches by soldiers from faraway beneath your feet is stained with the blood of your dead friends. You could see acquaintances you've known and loved since birth sprawled out on the pavement above a puddle of red, gasping for breath, while the few remaining others furiously enter the collapsed building with machine guns in their hands.
Fuck, will you die too?
And if you do, will someone fight for you?
You run away just in time when an enemy soldier approaches to rob your dead friend of his gun and bullets. However, your boots are too loud; his attention is taken away from the few bullets in his palm and onto your fleeing figure clad in camouflage. And even the cleverest camouflage made can't hide the fear bubbling in your soul.
He saw you.
You run away away in the battle-stricken area as the very bullets he stole start flying overhead. Shouts can be heard, curses can be perceived, but all you could hear are the voices of your friends ringing in your ears like a bell. You try your best to ignore them because you have your own battle to fight, but their last words still haunt your mind.
Avenge me, one of them say. Avenge me...
"Fucking avenge me, you stupid fucker!"
Reality check. You roll your eyes at the sound of your best friend's yell deafening you from your headphones. Why does the loser who got killed early have so many demands? You have no idea.
"Dude, I'm trying! But one of them is going after me!"
"I don't fucking care! Avenge me! Avenge me! Avenge me!"
You can't handle hearing those chants anymore. Infuriated by the noise, you yell into your mic: "Alright! Alright!"
What an asshole.
Ignoring the side quest written on your screen, you turn back to find the gamer who killed your friend. You follow your other teammates—all your acquaintances outside of the game—into the building till you see a familiar username.
Ah, found you, 宮脇 咲良!
Wait, the name looks familiar. You swear you've seen it before. Somewhere in a gaming channel of a Japanese idol named…
Oh, it doesn't matter. You prepare to shoot the player, but then, your hands immediately feel like they've been glued to your mouse. You strain to move them, but they remain in their frozen form.
That just adds to your frustration. Nooo, not now!
The feeling of your hands going stiff on your keyboard is not new, but it definitely isn't convenient. In fact, you're surprised that they didn't freeze up earlier, seeing as you've spent the last six hours playing.
But now the problem at hand is that your hand is unmoving, fingers stuck into place above the light-up alphabet keys while your other one is in the same state on the mouse. Groan in frustration as you strain to move them, growing increasingly anxious that maybe—just maybe—tonight your fingers wouldn't snap out of the position anymore like they usually do.
You take a look at your screen. Fuck, you're letting your team lose.
Gunshots resound in your headphones along with loud complaints from your teammates:
"Aww, fuck you man! You could've saved me there!"
"There's no use yelling at him, bro, he's probably gone AFK."
"Well, screw him even more!"
You feel yourself get even more wrapped up in pure frustration and fear. Trying to hide the panic in your voice, you speak into the mic of your headphones: "Sorry guys. My hands're doing that thing again."
"What the fuck? Is he jerking off right now?!"
"Wait, what?" Of course these green-minded degenerates twisted your words into something explicit again. "Of course not, you idiot. They've gone stiff!"
"Just like your small penis right now."
The loud cackles from your teammates make you wonder how these boys ever became your friends. How could they seriously think that was the joke of the century? They sound like sixth graders at a computer shop the moment their mothers turn their backs.
"No, I'm serious, guys. I really can't move them."
"Kick him out. I don't have time for his shit."
"What? No! I'll get this over with, I pro—"
You have been kicked from the lobby.
You would have smashed that keyboard into the Mediterranean if your hands weren't frozen. But instead, you relieve your anger with a loud, lengthy:
"Son of a bitchhh!"
Your ears are a blaring red color. Seriously, fuck these guys. They're your friends, sure, but you can't deny how much of an asshole each of them could be at times. You could have won the game along with them but they couldn't spare five seconds letting you fix your hands.
But again, you really can't blame them for being tired of your constant freezing. They've let you slack a whole week of not gaming with them only for you to return with shitty gameplay and a bullshit excuse. Come on, who would really believe that Mr. Beepboopboppity's hands "froze" up for the millionth time?
And yes, that is in fact your username. That's probably one of the reasons nobody takes you seriously, in the game and in real life.
All you want to do for the weekend is relieve stress by turning to one of your favorite games, and in turn you got your friends cackling at how bad you were and your "made-up" excuses. You're too dead inside for this, really.
You are a fuming fire of frustration that can't be put out by any water. Fuck everyone, fuck everything! Why the hell does everything choose to get messed up for you everytime you try to catch a break? Does the universe hate you? Do the gods despise you? Seriously, why do you even bother?
You're better off somewhere with nobody to bother you. With nothing else at all. You deserve to—
Feel soft lips brush against your cheek, that curve into a small smile after they do so. "Hey, babe. What's wrong? You playing again?"
The familiar voice, the sweet lips, and the pet name are all hints that give you the name of the girl who gave you a kiss: Kwon Eunbi.
She has entered the room with the same addicting smile that made you fall in love with her. Your contrasting emotions have overwhelmed you so much that they distract you from Eunbi's presence; you are only alerted of it when she comes over to you to kiss you.
She grins widely and affectionately lets her arms circle your shoulders. You catch the scent of powder lingering on her clothes. She always smells like lavenders and baby powder, which makes anyone recognize her with just a whiff of her perfume.
Your pretty lavender angel, Eunbi, truly came at the right time.
Your heart softens a little inside, but still... didn't she hear you yell? Anger, though lessened, flares in your being but you wouldn't dare spout a rude answer to your ever-so-sweet girlfriend, the last person to deserve your anger.
So instead you steal another look at your frozen hands and mutter a grumpy, "Was. Fucking assholes."
"Watch your mouth," she reminds you cheekily as she slips the headphones down to your neck. She giggles cutely when you look at her with eyes full of spite. "No, I'm kidding! What's wrong?"
Eunbi slips into your lap and places a hand on your cheeks, rubbing comforting patterns on them with her thumbs. The sympathetic pout on her face makes your heart irregularly skip several beats.
Gazing up at her beautiful face, you sigh reflectively. She's the sweetest girl ever, you think. Why would you ever be so rash to such a kind girl? You would have placed your hand over hers if the very thing wrong isn't happening right now.
Take a look into those large pretty eyes and see them actively searching your face for hints of the cause of your anger. The reflection of the screen in your own eyes leads her to turn around and look at it as well. She finally finds the hint: the words of "You have been kicked from the lobby". One look down and she gets the answer: hands frozen into place above the keyboard like ice.
"Oh, are your hands stiffening up again?" she asks. She takes them in her own, examining them with eyes full of concern.
"Yeah."
Eunbi turns to you all of a sudden and crosses her arms as if you've offended her. "Babe, didn't I tell you to stop playing so much? Your hands won't unfreeze anymore if you keep this up."
"But I didn't even play that much!" you protest. "It was only one... hour..."
You stop when Eunbi gives you the look: the one that tells you wordlessly that she sees right through your lies.
How does she do that? you wonder. Sometimes you swear that she can see right through you with those brown eyes of hers. To her, you are as transparent as a glass of water. Reflective, clear as day.
And she drinks you all up.
"You're such a bad liar," Eunbi says, flicking your forehead. "But since you're so cute I'll let it slide."
"Um, you do know that just letting it 'slide' doesn't help at all, right?"
"Hmph, now you're too impatient and ungrateful. I was about to help you and massage them back to normal but I don't want to anymore. Since, since you're so mean."
Her words would have frustrated you further, but Kwon Eunbi is too much of a cutie to make you upset. And she could barely sound intimidating either, sitting there on your lap with her arms crossed over your black Adidas hoodie (that she has stolen-again) speaking with that adorable lisp that make her last statement sound laced with "th" sounds. Everyone teases her about that lisp, including you at times, but you always find it so endearing.
Your grumpiness starts to fade away at her pout. You can't hide the smile itching at your lips anymore, so you roll your eyes.
Fine, you decide, you'll play along with her.
"Alright. I'm sorry, bunny." Try to pat her head but then remember your hand is frozen. Ah, what a bummer—settle for a soft kiss just beside her mouth that immediately erases the pouty frown on her pretty face—but at least she'll do her routinely massage on your hands after you play to her affection. After than you can pat her head as much as you like again. "I'm sorry for being mean to you. That wasn't very nice of me, was it?"
"No!"
"Right, I'm really sorry. Now can you please help me with my hand?"
Satisfied with your flattery-filled apology, the brightness returns to her face. "Now that's more like it! But gimme a kiss first. Aww, come onnnnn. Just this once—mwah, thank you, baby!" Eunbi beams happily when you finally comply and kiss her cheek. "Ah, I love your kisses so much, did you know that? You should kiss me more. Maybe on my neck because—"
"Um, Eunbi," you remind her with an amused chuckle. "My hand."
"Oh right! Sorry!"
The way she gets lost into a stuttering rant whenever her focus lingers on a particular subject far too long is adorable. You are again reminded why you love this girl so much.
Another reminder is the way Eunbi carefully takes your hand from the keyboard and squeezes it in between her fingers. Your stiff hand barely feels anything, but thanks to her skillful massaging, the warmth slowly creeps back into your veins. She squeezes one of your stiff fingers and strokes her massage right up to your knuckles, and does so to another finger.
The tension in your face eases just as it does from your hand. Her thumbs are planted on the back of it, creating pressure into your hand in quick, circular motions. Each ministration evokes a freeing feeling in your joints.
Damn, this actually feels really relaxing.
"Hey, pretty girl."
One of your favorite nicknames for her instantly makes her ears perk up. She lifts her head from her massaging with an questioning look. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
"No problem," she says, beaming.
Angel.
She turns back to what she is doing. Although you only thanked her like any decent person would, her actions seem lighter now. Crazy how just words could have that affect on someone.
Another example:
"Look how hand rough your hand is!" she says, lining up her palm with yours with a giggle. The contrast is clear between her smooth milky palm and your jaggy one. "Does it feel good, oppa? I haven't done this in a while."
Wait a minute...
A question mark draws itself above your head. "'Daddy'?" you ask, surprised at the sudden honorific.
And you wish you could say that you didn't enjoy seeing the surprise and embarrassment rising to Eunbi's cheeks like tidal waves. The moment they crash on the shore that is your impossibly adorable girlfriend seated on your lap, she sputters out apologies so fast she could've gotten a rapper position in a K-pop girl group. Hmm, maybe they'll call the group IZ*ONE?
"I'm, I'm sorry," she says, feeling a little small because of the way you are eyeing her up and down. "Please, daddy, I'm- I mean—! I mean I thought I called you… called you..."
Raise a single questioning eyebrow and she blushes even more. "Eunbi? What was that?"
"Nothing! I think your hands are fine now, right? You should continue playing. Your friends are waiting for—hnghh!"
Eunbi could not stop the whine that came out of her mouth when you suddenly lunge for her with your now-cured hands and capture her chin in between your fingers. She pouts and tries to get away, but you keep your grip steady to the point that she can barely struggle to make an escape.
"'Daddy', huh?" you inquire with a teasing grin. "Is that what you want to call me?"
"N-No!" Eunbi gulps down nervously. "I mean, yes Eunbi does, but..."
Her bewildered eyes fill up with tears of humiliation. She quickly shakes her head, but her hands settle suspiciously at her thighs. "Hanghhh, it's embarrassing."
"What's wrong?"
She lets out a whimper so soft that if it were any softer, you would have thought you'd imagined it. Drool leaks from her mouth as she stares at your hand with an odd wistfulness.
She eventually loses sight of it when it cups her face along with your other one, tilting her face up so that she will have to look at you directly.
"Come on, it's okay," you tell her, with a lighter tone this time. You realize that perhaps putting her on the spot about something like that is a little too harsh, so you soften your voice and caress her pink cheeks. "It's alright, you can tell me."
"Hmph. Promise you won't get mad?"
"Promise," you say solemnly. You imagine your own fingers signing a cross on your heart while you state your words.
Eunbi is a mix of different emotions, although majority of them are variants of hesitation, but with soft coos and encouragement from you, she finally gives in.
"Fine," Eunbi says, pouting again in embarrassment. "I guess I want you to... I want you to pretty please touch me? I knew the daddy would get your attention. P-Plus it's been days and I really need you, please."
Going to all those lengths just to tell you she's horny? Kwon Eunbi truly is the funniest person alive.
But again, how could you be so oblivious? Now you realize the way her lips had slid from your cheek to your neck, and the extra closeness felt from her on your lap. You really should have gotten the hint.
But it's better late than never, right?
"Hm." You pretend to be deeply invested in that thought. "How should I touch you then?"
"Maybe... like this?"
The second those words leave her mouth, the cold air-conditioned room suddenly turns hot. And her following actions match the warmth the tension in the air has.
Eunbi takes your hand away from her cheek, and tentatively guides it beneath her hoodie instead. She grants your lucky fingers a touch of her tight stomach, sensitive beneath your touch.
You could hear her breath hitch when you trail your hand further up her luscious body. Your proud grin is too apparent, so you kiss her again and tell her to watch what you are doing so she doesn't see the smugness in your guise.
And so she does. She witnesses your hand being controlled by your evil lustful counterpart living in the same body as you, and how even your normal self agrees with its actions, seeing as your hand goes down while your other preoccupied hand goes yonder. They take different trips, but both paths lead to the same destination: an unbearably aroused Eunbi.
It's getting too hot. Eunbi closes her eyes and lets out a tiny shuddering breath to calm herself. It fascinates you how it only takes a few touches and caresses to get her all hot and bothered, but her reaction also turns you on just as much as she is.
She must feel your erection beneath her, prodding at her shorts; Eunbi is squirming and shifting like a cat in heat—(or rather, a bunny). Sparks fly and meet to tie her up in invisible ropes of hot pleasure whenever she feels your fingers glide across her skin.
And now, you lean in to her face until your noses almost collide with each other. She is too shy, causing her to be unable to meet your gaze, but you keep yours steady.
"Like this?"
"M-Mhm." Eunbi nods repeatedly before wincing at how hot she feels. "Fuck, yes please."
You're enjoying this game far better than the one you were all angry about earlier. And so is Eunbi; the intense blush on her neck has overtaken her cheeks.
She bites down on her lip in endurance as you trace the curve of her sides, rub patterns on her hip, then creep up to squeeze her breasts. You're pleased to find out they are braless, but that's another thing you should have noticed earlier; even a hoodie like that can't hide her figure.
She cries out a little once your fingers begin kneading her bountiful tits. You take your lovely time with them, especially knowing how sensitive she is here. You appreciate all of her—the roundness of her chest, the pattern of her areolas, the softness of her sighs. You worship her as if you are a repenting sinner seeking forgiveness at the altar of a church.
The cold rushes to her body when the hoodie is lifted to her chest, causing her nipples to stand erect. Lick at one of them and suck meaningfully on it while your other hand fondles the other. You quickly discover how sensitive she is here, for in just a matter of jumbled seconds and minutes, Eunbi is in heaven; blushing furiously and whimpering with every naughty lick, each fervent suckle.
Such a pretty girl. Too pretty that you can't help but want to kiss her.
And so you do.
"Mwah. You know"—switch your mouth to her neck and jaw, the scent of powder invading your sense of smell once more—"you could have just asked properly, you know? Especially after being- fuck, such a good girl helping me out, I would have been glad to touch you."
"Really?" She glances up at you with a look so adorably innocent that your heart feels like it has been squeezed till all your love poured out.
Although her statement barely comes out as a proper reply and sounds more like a broken moan strangled out of her, you are more than happy to answer that question:
"Of course. You're mine, aren't you?"
You mean it. It isn't just for the purpose of dirty talk to rile her up; you'd do anything she asked of you after how kind and patient Eunbi has been with you, even before the two of you got together.
"Hah," Eunbi gasps. She is still riled up though, and you calling her yours doesn't help her calm down at all. Swallowing, she tries to speak. "Thank you, I- I love you. Thank you."
There it is. Her undying thankfulness although she has done much more for you than you have for her. Her never-ending mentions of how glad she is to be treated like this.
So grateful, you muse, even as she starts to ride your thigh. The gratitude is now whispered in quick labored gasps, hot against your skin. You flex your thigh further and she starts to hump your bouncing knee faster than before.
Eunbi whines and immediately grabs onto your shoulders for support. The stickiness of her wetness starts to create a mess on you too, as she continuously lifts her hips and rides herself out on your skin. She's quite vocal, never afraid to let her cute little gasps and mewls out as the heat restricts her body. Her tits bounce while she rides you, making a lovely view for your own entertainment as payback for all the pleasure.
But even with all the heat and tension hanging in the air and making your bodies grind against each other, you remember one thing.
L O V E… ?
"Hey. Hey, I love you too, pretty girl. I love you too."
Your hands case the sides of her face and tilt them upwards so her eyes could meet yours again. They are a little hooded because of the pleasure caused by each buck of your knee into the center of the boxers you lent her, but you still leave a kiss just above her brow and nuzzle her nose lovingly, hoping your lips are as capable of making her feel loved as your words are.
However, your words begin to do more than make her feel loved; they heighten the arousal making her body feel warm all over. She squirms her hips more urgently onto your thigh, her cries getting louder by the second.
Fuck, she's so hot like this. Far too easy to rile up, far too pretty for her own good.
You whisper sweet nothings in her ear and then you feel her nails dig into your back. Eunbi loves it. She loves it all: each coaxing kiss on her neck and being told that she's a good girl, a pretty girl. Though she would never admit to it out of fear of sounding too sappy, you know that little secret all too well. She ruts harder on your thigh and makes the swivel gaming chair creak harder.
Soon, it becomes far from enough for her. Eunbi's hands squeeze your shoulders till they feel like breaking while her lips muffle her plea into your neck.
"Daddy," she cries softly, "please just fuck me now. I know you want to."
She's correct about that; hearing her helpless sounds of pleasure as her wetness leaks onto your thigh is getting you in the mood too. But, as cruel as it may seem, it's more fun to keep her on edge.
For a while, at least.
"Is that so?" Her porcelain skin seems more addictive now that your mind is clouded with sheer fucking lust. You become a vampire, sinking your teeth into Eunbi's pretty neck. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Eunbi."
Your hands seem to have a lust-clouded mind of their own too, so driven by the appealing thought of fucking her silly that you can't even control them anymore. They greedily knead Eunbi's tits for some time, then grab her ass so they could lift her onto the counter of your computer desk. Later on, they even become the reason for the absence of her shorts from her hips and thighs, now transported to a new—and you might even joke: a better location, your bedroom floor.
Fuck, and now your eyes take some time to join the lust-fuelled craze. They discover a love for feasting on the beautiful view of Eunbi's delicious bare thighs. Skirmish and sensitive as they may be, they share a particular trait with Eunbi's breasts: their milkiness.
Clever joke, right?
But this is no time for jokes. This time, you dedicate yourself to doing what Eunbi asks of you: a little gift of gratitude for the patience she has had for you.
"Tell me what you want, baby," you coax her once more. You plant a kiss on her lips, then another on her chin.
"Anything?" Her beautiful eyes sparkle at the idea.
"Anything."
"Then..." Eunbi practically quivers with sensitivity. She squirms when your thumbs caress her inner thighs. "Then—hah!"
Her words are cut short with a moan, reason being your sudden lick at her pulsating clit above her panties. You grin at the immediate clench of her thighs around your head. Although they have the ability to suffocate you, the bright side is that they are quite the comfortable earmuffs.
Not that the suffocating thing is a problem with you at all. In fact, it might even get you to perform cunnilingus even harder.
After peppering her thighs with more sweet kisses, you nuzzle your nose at her clit, covered by the center of her damp panties. Then you give it sharp licks with the tip of your tongue just to hear her cry out in need. Despite the fabric still being in the way, the pleasure is induced as if it weren't there.
"Oh, fuck, oppa." The honorific makes an unexpected return while you make an unexpected nibble on her pulsing nub. "Oh my god, I'm so wet."
"That's why you have to tell me what you want me to do to you, babygirl," you quip with a chuckle. Flick your tongue on her nub to savor more of her sweet taste. "Mm, so I could do something about it, right?"
"B-But how can I when you're doing that?" she says. She moans, and her hands curling around the edge of the table so she could lift her hips up to meet your tongue seem to overshadow her just now stated whiny complaint.
"It's just a little challenge for my pretty girl. I don't want you to be a brat, do I? Now tell me."
"I want- ahhh"—Eunbi is soaked, now that your tongue actually dips into her pussy now, the panties pulled aside—"you to, to- fuck!"
Continuous wetness meets your tongue. It was once caused by your thigh, but now your tongue replaces the reason. Your eyes divert their attention to Eunbi's face to see if you're right about that, all while your tongue buries itself deeper in her cavern.
By the look on her face, you're correct. You're doing excellent, passing with flying colors. Eunbi's eyes are shut close, her pouted lips quivering and parting on occasion. They part to let out incoherent words in failed attempts to speak out what she wants you to do, soft cries and sobs elicited by the rock of your tongue in between her convulsing walls.
You would have cum on the spot just looking up at her face, but you save that for the fun part. For now, you slide your tongue in and out from between convulsing walls, twirling it inside to stimulate her sensitive spots.
Eunbi cries out, biting into the back of her hand. "Hnghh! I want—!"
Another sentence cut off by a moan equates to a delicious rush of her juices in your mouth. But she tries again.
And strangely, it's how she strains and struggles to be comprehendable makes you rock hard. How she tries her best to speak only for the words to come out as desperate moans, how she looks so pretty even as she grows frustrated.
"I want- I want—" Face red from endurance, Eunbi whines loudly. "Fuck, Eunbi wants oppa to breed her, please!"
Wait, what?
You stop completely. Her words are actually taking you by surprise. You were expecting her to ask you to go faster (as if she isn't already begging for you to pick up the pace), or proceed to fuck her. Her asking you for that favor certainly wasn't a scenario you had expected to come along.
When she sees your surprised face, she whines even more. She almost cries because of the frustration, almost turns into a brat you'd deny over and over of orgasms. "Please! Just want you to put a baby in Eunbi, and fill her with your seed, please."
Fuck, maybe you will. The thought of spilling your cum into Eunbi, and her gladly taking it all...
It lingers on your mind like a dream.
A dream you are about to make come true.
You give in too easily. But who would not? Seeing that she's almost in tears tugs at your heartstrings.
(And brings your erection to full mast.)
You rise to your feet, your eyes meeting hers. Even with the pleading tears puddling in her eyes she looks so pretty. The long black hair paired with her milky skin and sweet face does things to you.
But even then as you place your hands on her cheeks and wipe the tears away with your thumbs, you realize how you would do anything for her, even if her request isn't to breed her, really. Dig up every gold and silver hidden under the land of this planet? You'd do it for her if she asks.
She still whimpers like a kicked puppy though. Large eyes swimming with tears and hands clasped together, Eunbi begins to implore you even more. "Please, oppa. Please."
Hmmmm…
Well, she did say "please".
What the hell, you're in.
But joining this game of hers is starting to transform you into a different person, someone that not even a continuous lose streak or dumb teammates can make.
You roughly grasp her chin, tilting it upwards so her eyes are locked with your own. You could almost see the fear mixed with strange excitement bubbling in her soul.
"Alright, Eunbi," you tell her. "Fine. You want me to breed you, huh? I'll fucking breed you."
Her expression turns into a look of momentary fear. But it isn't one that you notice or care about at the moment. If it were any other situation, you would have stopped what you were doing and asked her not to be afraid, that you'd treat her gently so you swear there's nothing to get into fright about.
But now you realize, as you lift her up from your table and slam her down instead to your bed, with her looking up at you like that, you can't make a promise you aren't sure you can keep.
You gaze down at her—her panting self, with her needy pout and eyes full of tears—and find yourself licking your lips hungrily.
"Spread your legs, baby."
She nods eagerly and does as you tell her. The pretty pink pussy, leaking and ruining your bedsheets, looks just as delicious from the time you first had sex with Eunbi. You could see her twitching clit, her tight hole flinching at the cold.
"Now touch yourself for me," you order.
Obedient as ever, she places her hand in between her legs. She rubs her needy clit, but only softly in order to avoid overstimulation far too early. But even with the gentleness she tries to have with herself, she can't help her soft "Ah!", and her thighs involuntarily squeezing together.
It's a pretty sight: a delicate Eunbi attempting to touch herself in a way that she wouldn't reach orgasm but still feel pleasured. You love how needy she looks, trying desperately to be good and do what you say while also keeping her pleasure at bay.
She slips two fingers inside. She whimpers softly and tries to stretch herself out, only for her to squeeze down on them and fail.
Eunbi covers her mouth as she slowly starts to thrust them in and out. Although her slender fingers are no match for a real dick, it still pleasures her well.
She closes her legs together as if trying to keep her digits inside herself while also preventing them from entering. Whatever she's trying to do, her fingers ignore and just continue their actions.
"Faster now."
Eunbi does not want to orgasm early; there's still your cock to do it for her! But her body is greedily seeking the peak of gratification, and hearing your command was the go-signal.
"Ha, ahhh!" Eunbi shrieks as her fingers start to pick up the pace. Her wrist is beginning to ache, but the pain feels dull compared to the pleasure wreaking her core. Her core suffers the constant violation of her eager fingers as the heat becomes more and more unbearable.
Eunbi's mouth falls open as she climaxes, but what also made her react like that is the surprise that came with her orgasm: the fluids squirting from her pussy like a fountain.
She's already shuddering, but her fingers don't stop for a second. Her squirting becomes abundant, spraying the blankets beneath her like rain.
Your eyes feel like first-time virgins at what they had just witnessed. Seeing your needy girlfriend fingering herself then squirting just amplifies the solidness of your erection.
Realization starts to sink into Eunbi at what she's done. "I'm sorry! Eunbi couldn't hold her cum, please don't get mad."
"Why would I be?" you ask in disbelief. You don't find any reason to be angry at her, especially looking at the mess she's made and knowing it was caused by her willingness to be good for you.
"B-Because it's still not enough," she complains. She slowly thrusts her fingers in and out, but she still ends up crying. "Please. It's not good enough. Eunbi needs your cock, please."
She's begged enough, you decide, the poor thing. The poor bunny. The poor dumb baby bunny.
The bunny eagerly takes her fingers out of herself when she sees you tower over her again, and cries out in pleasure and satisfaction when your dick replaces them. The only problem is, you are much bigger than her slender fingers, causing her to sob. She stuffs her slick fingers in her mouth instead, biting on them whenever she feels you move.
As expected, Eunbi's pussy is heaven. The tightness is almost unbelievable. You push yourself in deeper, forcefully pushing her legs up into a mating press. This way, you can easily thrust yourself in her deeper, while seeing her delicious thighs and her pussy accomodate to your length.
Then it gets rougher.
Without waiting for her to get used to your size, you begin upping the pace. It is a bit greedy of you, but fuck, the look on Eunbi's face and the way her boobs bounced just got your selfish side out.
And she loves it.
You rock your body into hers, far too quickly for her oversensitive pussy to take. Eunbi tries hard to keep her legs up, but they begin to flail. With a cry, she tightens her grip on them, biting her swollen lower lip in endurance.
Meanwhile her other lips are constantly being invaded by your shaft, the very reason she is getting so worked up. The expression on her face constantly shows all the bliss and need she is feeling, making her shut her eyes and cry out or on occasion purse her lips to try and quiet herself.
But you don't want that. You want her to be so pleasured that even her constant lip bites become futile.
And so you drag your length coated with all her wetness out of her then slam your hips with even more force. You could feel her warm pussy clamp down the hardest they ever had onto you. You even get the result you wanted: Eunbi's loud moans quickly turning into flailing screams.
"Ah! Oh god, don't stop!"
And lucky for her, you aren't planning to. Now you are playing a new game, the mission being "Fuck Kwon Eunbi Senseless."
Red face, messy hair and the globes of her breasts bouncing up and down madly, Eunbi resorts to furiously biting down on both of her hands' fingers, letting go of her legs. You take the burden of putting her legs up for her, using them as support to throw your hips deeper into her.
This mission is fun, you think to yourself.
You look down at Eunbi. Her fingertips are placed in her mouth, as if she were shy even as you are fucking her rabidly.
"You like this, Eunbi?" you ask her, although the answer is obvious. "You like daddt fucking his bunny's brains out so he could fill you up with his load?"
She nods furiously, almost in tears. Wait, not almost; you could see several drops rolling down her face. "Yes, yes please, please give it to me! It feels so… good!"
Eunbi's hands flee from her mouth and onto your bedsheets, giving her mouth the freedom to cry out as the gradual tightening of the heat in her stomach leads her to orgasm.
You make a deep sound of your own as you feel her core squeeze helplessly onto you. Responsive to every irk of pleasure in her body, Eunbi does not stop her cute sobs of "yes please" or her deathly tugs on the blankets. You don't pause your thrusts for a second either; you still need to give Eunbi the load she desperately wants.
And fuck, you'll give it all to her. Eunbi is starting to lose it; every touch you give her sends more wetness in her cunt because of how you are diligently fucking her through her orgasm. The rushes of pleasure running through her body is making her crazy.
"Daddy," she whimpers, and you can see her stomach tensing up. She cries out softly. "Daddy, please, it feels so hot."
That breaks it for you. Hearing that soft voice of hers tell you that while feeling her pussy clench down on you once more causes you to swiftly bury yourself deep inside her and paint her walls white.
Eunbi orgasms along with you, marking her third climax of the night. The feeling of your semen invading her pussy and possibly making her pregnant gives her a strange kind of excitement just enough to make her reach her peak.
She pants breathlessly, finally dropping her legs back down onto the bed. Exhaustion clings onto them and the rest of her sex-fatigued body.
You are equally tired, but you stand for a little more time to adore Eunbi's bred pussy. Cum decorates her folds and entrance, while a little of it leaks onto the mattress.
You don't want that. All of it needs to be inside her.
So now you sit on the edge of the bed and guide some of it back inside her with your fingers. Eunbi gasps at the unexpected move, squeezing her thighs together. But you insistently keep them open.
"Ahh, daddy, what are you doing?"
"We don't want any of this coming out, do we?"
"Well, it's going to… come out either way." Eunbi shuts her eyes and squirms onto your fingers a little more. "So you have to do it again. Just, just to be sure."
You raise your eyebrows although you can easily understand what she means. "One more?" you ask, laughing a little. You sink your fingers deeper into her. "Have I really made you into such a brat?"
A teary-eyed Eunbi pouts. "Not fair. Come on, I massaged your hands and kissed you a lot today!"
"Aw, is Eunbi becoming a dumb baby bunny just for me to breed her?"
Eunbi opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it. Now she's blushing again, and the more you look at her pretty flushed face, you begin to realize the red in her cheeks means something other than embarrassment.
"Oh, you are."
"No," she denies it with a shake of her head. She starts to back away from you on the bed, but then the flat of her back meets the headboard.
The bunny is trapped, and oh yes, she's scared. Her wide eyes and curled up self say it all.
You could've devoured her right there and then, but you give the bunny a chance to redeem herself.
"Go on then," you tell her. "Say it, if you want it so bad."
Eunbi's lower lip quivers once more. "Please."
"'Please' what?"
"P-Please breed Eunbi again."
————
The next level of this game is about to be better than the first one.
The location is at your computer table, back from where it started. The mission stays the same, but this time you are supposed to give your all. Rougher and harder.
Specific instructions given by the prettiest avatar ever, as she sits on the flat of the table with her legs open: "Don't you dare let a single drop slip out of me."
You aren't planning to.
But still, what if she isn't really certain about this decision? What if halfway into the process she begins to get hurt?
"Eunbi? Are you sure?" you ask.
Her eyes then give you her infamous puppy look, with all the cuteness she can muster. You chuckle at it, but that doesn't mean that it hasn't convinced you.
And what else can convince you other than her sultry gaze as she leans down on your table, legs split apart with the most adorable pout on her face?
Fuck it. You only live once.
"Mmph- mmph! Oh fuck, oppa!"
Eunbi screams as you plunge yourself inside her. Now with you harder than ever from the last session, it feels infinitely better. She grabs onto the sides of your table to keep herself steady, her fingers wrapping themselves tighter around the surface with each pump inside her.
And with each pump—each swift return of your dick in between her soaked walls—she moans out your name, her pet name for you, a curse in a surprised gaspy breaths. It drives you crazy how she manages to eke out little cries of gratification while squirming on your desk, trying to get you to go faster.
So you do. Skin against skin, fingers against the curve of her thighs, your moans against a pair of plump pretty lips. Eunbi yelps out a little at the sudden up of force and pace. Skirmish and writhing, she lowers her head while her teeth sink into her lower lip so deeply that you are worried it might bleed.
And even with it readily becoming too much, she throws her head back and screams, "Faster, daddy, please! F-Fuck!"
Hand placed over her slick clit, you swiftly draw tight number eights over it to accompany your strokes. Your groin starts to tighten as you watch Eunbi shudder and mewl from how good you're fucking her, and hear her beg—no, she's demanding, requiring you to go faster. Just a few more pistons into this tight hole and you're going to give her a second filling, a second filling you had saved for later but now couldn't hold back.
Driven crazy with feral lust, you suddenly make a grab for Eunbi. You lift her off the table and tug on her wrists so she bends over the desk instead, all while not putting a pause to your strokes. Eunbi screams through all of it, and now, with her bent over on the desk with her hands sealed behind her back, she whimpers out a "Almost there, almost there…"
"Is Eunbi close? Does Eunbi want daddy to pound her little pussy till she squirts all over him?"
"Agh!" Eunbi wails as you spank her ass. It stings more than it should, so she is almost in tears when she responds weakly. "Yes! Eunbi is so close, she's so close, please make her cum!"
The desk is rattling with all the force thrown at it, and Eunbi's tight ass suffers the slaps of your hips against it. However, you still slap her ass again and drive your dick deeper inside her.
Although Eunbi's tits are top-tier, you have always loved her ass almost as much you do the latter. So she cries as you hit her ass repeatedly, loving the sensation it makes paired with your strokes.
She's almost weeping from how good it all feels now, and all you could think of is the sweat on her face, the spasming of her shapely body, the contracting of her pussy around you.
"Hah, holy shit, Eunbi," you grunt out. "I'm close."
"M-Me too, daddy. Please fill me with your seed. All of it. Haaaah, all of it!"
One, two, three, four, five. Exactly five more strokes is what's needed to reach your peak.
You bury yourself deep inside Eunbi to release your semen inside her, which she gladly accepts by squeezing down on your cock and milking you of white. It becomes harder to move because of how tight she's getting, but you persevere. As Eunbi whimpers and quivers on your desk, you give her a few more quick pumps, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck.
"Oh, oh my god," is all she says. Even as she turns around to sit on the edge of the table, words seem difficult to get out of her throat. Her eyes are still flickering, and her breaths still tremble as if she were nervous.
"You okay, babe?" you ask her.
Her eyes are fixed on nothing, but she still nods after a while in response. "Yes. So… hm, full."
"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" you tell her with a laugh. You fix her hair so that their strands don't appear messy, smoothing them down her head.
She nods again, smiling a little. "Yes, thank you. But I still want something."
"So demanding. What is it?"
"C-Can I sit on daddy's lap while he plays?"
She never changes, does she?
Despite how fucking sexy she is, Eunbi will forever be your cutie in your Adidas hoodie.
And you will forever say "yes" to whatever she wants.
"By all means, bun. By all means."
She beams. "Thank you!"
"Anything for you."
"And can I play just one battle too?"
"No."
"Not fair!"
But the smile remains on her beautiful face.
You give her one of your own and a teasing smooch on her cheek before settling back down on your swivel chair. She takes her rightful place on your lap while you put your headphones back on, ready to play another game.
"Daddy. Daddy." Her voice bugs you again.
"What now?"
"What if I suck your dick for a turn?"
"What? What are you… fine, we'll see. But I just have to finish this—oh fuck, Eunbi."
Inspiration: A @friskyriskywhisky ask, Minju bfh by @sooyadelicacies and me.
Credit: @sooyadelicacies as co-writer!
“URGENT! I need your help with something!“ Sent by Minju.
You start your sprint. Out of your car, which you always park behind the studio to avoid any cameras from catching you and Minju. This relationship is a big secret, and you are glad that it’s kept away from the public rather well. You fight through crowds of staff and producers, not evoking suspicion because of the entrance pass tangling from your neck.
Finally, you eye Minju’s manager, an attractive business lady. She winks to you and points at the door behind her. A thankful bow and you disappear in the room, where she awaits you, in front of a large mirror in a perfectly soundproof room.
Outfit? Check.
Curtain? Check.
Horniness? Unchecked.
"You’re really a naughty girl, Kim Minju. What am I going to do with you?”
Minju rubs her gorgeous legs together. Her hand is already at the zipper of her denim shorts, but instead of pulling it down she just rubs it.
“Thank you for coming, Daddy. Please punish your naughty baby girl. What would you like to do?“
"You know exactly what you provoked with that skimpy outfit, Minju. I will fuck your fat thighs!”
“Honey, did you forget something?” Taeyeon asks her lover, leaning against the door, her party dress riding up on one leg—she knew she was sexy, good god she felt sexy, and she needed to do something about it.
