Birthday
Yooyeon x Male Reader (1st)
counts: ~6120 words tags: smut, fluff, marriage, date weekend, public tease synopsis: Two years together, with my wife, Yooyeon. Marriage with a cozy apartment, and no rush for kids. That night I spoiled her with takeout, candles, and slow, deep love, for her birthday.
I sat in the car with the engine off, windows cracked just enough to let in the late afternoon air. The parking lot was starting to empty out, cars pulling away one by one as the office people finished their Friday.
My phone showed 4:58. I kept glancing at the main door of the building, waiting for her.
Yooyeon walked out at exactly 5:02. Same black blazer she always wore on Fridays, white blouse underneath, pencil skirt that hugged her hips the way I still couldn’t get tired of. Her hair was up in a loose bun, a few strands falling around her face.
She looked tired, really tired, but even on her worst days she still looked gorgeous to me. Always has.
She spotted our car right away. I saw the tiny lift at the corner of her mouth, then she walked over
I pushed the passenger door open before she reached it.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said.
She slid in, dropped her bag on the floor, leaned over and kissed me quick—soft lips, a little sticky from whatever lip balm she’d put on that morning.
“Hey yourself,” she pulled the seatbelt across her chest and let her head fall back against the headrest. “God, I’m dead.”
“Rough one?”
“Client changed the whole campaign direction at 3:30. Again. I wanted to scream.” She rubbed her temples with two fingers. “But I didn’t. I smiled and said ‘of course, we can pivot.’ I deserve a medal.”
“You deserve dinner and a drink. Maybe two.”
She turned her head to look at me. “You’re in a good mood.”
“It’s Friday. And…” I let it hang for a second, grinning. “It’s a special day.”
Yooyeon closed her eyes and let out a small laugh through her nose. “Don’t start. You know I don’t do birthdays anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been saying that since you turned 24. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
She opened one eye and gave me that look—the one that says she’s pretending to be annoyed but isn’t really. “You’re impossible.”
“Guilty.”
I started the car. The AC kicked on, cool air hitting us both. She sighed like it was the best feeling in the world.
“So,” I said as I pulled out of the parking space, “how about you guess where I’m taking you to eat?”
She turned in her seat a little, facing me more. “Is this a trick question?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay… fine.” She tapped her chin like she was thinking hard. “Not barbecue. We did that last week. Not sushi either—you always complain your stomach hurts after.”
“True.”
“Not pasta. Too heavy for how tired I am.” She paused, studying my face. “You’re smiling too much. That means it’s something I like.”
“Keep going.”
“Is it that Italian place with the truffle pasta? The one near the river?”
“Nope.”
“Damn.” She bit her bottom lip, thinking. “Okay… the steakhouse? But you said not heavy.”
“I didn’t say not heavy. You did.”
She laughed softly. “You’re evil. Just tell me.”
“Nah. One more guess.”
She groaned, dramatic. “Fine. Is it… the rooftop Korean place? The one with the spicy tteokbokki and the soju flight?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You really want spicy after a day like today?”
“I want comfort food. And I want to drink. And I want to sit somewhere pretty and not think about work for three hours.”
I reached over and squeezed her thigh just above the knee—light, familiar. “Good guess. But not quite.”
She pouted. “You’re killing me.”
“Alright, I’ll give you a hint. It’s not fancy. It’s not crowded. And you can wear whatever you want tomorrow morning when we stay in bed late.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We’re not going out to eat?”
“We are. Just… not right now.”
She sat up straighter. “What did you do?”
“You’ll see.”
She stared at me for a long second, then leaned back again, smiling small. “You’re lucky I love surprises from you.”
“I know.”
We drove in comfortable quiet for a while. She played with the radio, skipping songs until she landed on some slow R&B she likes. Her hand rested on my thigh the whole time, thumb moving in lazy circles. That small touch still does things to me after two years.
Instead of heading toward the usual restaurants, I took the turn toward our neighborhood. She noticed immediately.
“Wait… are we going home first?”
“Sort of.”
She laughed. “You’re so suspicious.”
When I pulled into our apartment building’s underground parking, she gave me a look.
“Okay, now I’m really curious.”
I parked, killed the engine, and turned to her. “Come up with me. Five minutes. Then we leave again. Promise.”
She studied my face like she was trying to read my mind. “You’re nervous.”
“A little.”
That made her soften. “Why?”
“Because I love you. And I want tonight to be good.”
She leaned over and kissed me again—this time slower, deeper. Her hand slid up to the back of my neck. When she pulled back her eyes were warm.
“You always make it good,” she said quietly.
We got out. Took the elevator up to the fourth floor. The hallway smelled like someone was cooking kimchi jjigae. Familiar. Home.
I unlocked the door and let her step in first.
The lights were dim. I’d left only the small lamp in the living room on.
The dining table was pushed against the wall. In the middle of the room I’d spread out the thick picnic blanket we usually take to the park. Pillows from the couch were arranged around it.
Two candles flickered on the coffee table—nothing fancy, just the vanilla ones she likes.
There were takeout boxes from her favorite hole-in-the-wall place: galbi jjim, haemul pajeon, the spicy cucumber salad she always steals from my plate, and a bottle of soju in an ice bucket.
Yooyeon stopped in the doorway.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
She turned to me, eyes shiny. “You… you did all this?”
“Wanted to give you the night you actually want. No crowds. No dressing up. Just us. Good food. Drinks. And later…” I stepped closer, lowered my voice. “I plan to take my time with you.”
Her cheeks went pink. She looked back at the setup, then at me again.
“You remembered the haemul pajeon place.”
“Of course I did. You talk about it every time we pass by.”
She laughed, soft and surprised. “I didn’t think you were listening that hard.”
“I always listen to you.”
She walked over to the blanket, kicked off her heels, and sat down cross-legged. Pat the spot next to her.
“Come here.”
I joined her. She opened one of the boxes, inhaled deep.
“Smells so good.”
I twisted the soju cap off, poured us both a shot in the little green glasses.
She raised hers. “To… not caring about birthdays. But still getting spoiled anyway.”
I clinked my glass to hers. “To that.”
We drank. Sharp, cold, burns just right.
She leaned against my shoulder, picking at the galbi with her chopsticks.
“This is perfect,” she said quietly. “I was so tired. I just wanted to come home and crash. But this… this is better.”
“Good.”
We ate slow. Talked about stupid stuff—her annoying coworker, the new drama we’re watching, how the neighbor’s dog keeps barking at 2 a.m. Normal life stuff. But every now and then she’d look at me like she was seeing me for the first time.
After the second shot she started getting touchy. Hand on my arm. Fingers brushing my neck. Leaning in closer.
“You know,” she said, voice dropping, “I was thinking in the car… two years married. And you still look at me like you can’t believe I’m yours.”
“Because I can’t.”
She set her glass down. Crawled over until she was straddling my lap, knees on either side of me. Her skirt rode up her thighs.
“I’m yours,” she whispered. “Always have been.”
I slid my hands up her legs, under the skirt, gripping her hips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She kissed me hard this time. Open mouth, tongue sliding against mine. Her fingers went into my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan.
I pulled back for a second. “Food’s gonna get cold.”
“I don’t care,” she breathed. “I want you first.”
She rocked her hips once, slow, deliberate. I was already hard under her.
“Fuck, Yooyeon…”
She smiled against my mouth. “Say it again.”
“Fuck, baby…”
She reached down between us, palmed me through my jeans. “Take these off.”
We fumbled like teenagers—buttons, zippers, her skirt pushed up around her waist. She was wearing the black lace panties I like. The ones with the little bow. I groaned when I saw them.
“You wore these to work?”
“Maybe,” she teased. “Maybe I was hoping you’d rip them off later.”
I hooked my fingers in the sides and pulled. She lifted her hips to help. The lace slid down her legs. I tossed them somewhere behind me.
She pushed me back so I was lying on the blanket. Climbed on top again. Her blouse was half unbuttoned now—bra showing, chest rising and falling fast.
She leaned down, lips next to my ear. “I want you inside me. Right now. No waiting.”
I flipped us over so she was on her back. Spread her thighs with my knees. She was already wet—slick and hot when I ran my fingers through her folds.
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“Please,” she said, voice shaking a little. “Don’t tease.”
I lined up, pushed in slow at first. She gasped, nails digging into my shoulders. Then deeper. All the way.
“Fuck,” she breathed. “Yes…”
I started moving—slow, deep thrusts. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my lower back, pulling me harder.
“Harder,” she whispered. “Please, harder.”
I gave it to her. Faster. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. She moaned loud—no neighbors close enough to care. Her hands grabbed my ass, urging me on.
“Like that?” I asked, voice rough.
“Yes—god, yes—just like that—”
She clenched around me, tight and hot. I felt her start to shake.
“I’m close,” she panted. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”
I angled my hips, hitting the spot she loves. She cried out, back arching.
“Baby—I’m gonna—”
“Come for me,” I growled. “Let me feel it.”
She shattered. Whole body trembling, thighs squeezing me tight, wet pulsing around my cock. She moaned my name—loud, broken.
I fucked her through it, chasing my own. She grabbed my face, kissed me messy.
“Come inside me,” she whispered. “Fill me up.”
That did it. I groaned hard, buried deep, and came. Pulse after pulse, spilling into her. She whimpered at the feeling, legs still locked around me.
We stayed like that for a minute—sweaty, breathing hard, still connected.
She kissed my jaw. “Best birthday ever.”
Morning light slipped through the half-closed blinds, thin stripes across the bed. I woke up slow, the way you do when you’ve slept hard after a long night. My body felt heavy in the good way—muscles loose, a little sore from everything we’d done on the living room floor, then again in the shower before we finally crashed around 2 a.m.
Yooyeon was already awake. I could tell because her hand was under the sheet, fingers tracing lazy circles on my stomach, inching lower every few seconds. Her breathing was warm against my neck. She smelled like last night’s soju, vanilla candles, and sex. My favorite combination.
I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was still out. Let her play.
She shifted closer, thigh sliding over mine. Her bare breasts pressed against my side. Soft. Warm. Nipples already hard, brushing my skin every time she moved.
“You’re awake,” she whispered, lips grazing my earlobe. “I can tell.”
I cracked one eye open. She was propped on her elbow, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed from sleep and leftover alcohol. Eyes bright, a little glassy. Still tipsy, definitely.
“Morning,” I mumbled.
“Morning, birthday boy’s wife.” She smiled slow, naughty. “I’m still buzzed. And horny.”
I laughed under my breath. “You were horny at 3 a.m. too.”
“Yeah, but now it’s daylight. Different rules.”
Her hand finally reached my cock. It was already half-hard just from her touching my stomach. She wrapped her fingers around it, gave a slow stroke from base to tip. I hissed through my teeth.
“Fuck, Yooyeon…”
“Shh.” She kissed my jaw, then my throat. “Let me wake you up properly.”
She disappeared under the sheet before I could say anything else. I felt her hair brush my thighs, then her hot mouth closed over the head. No teasing. Just wet heat, tongue swirling, taking me deeper in one smooth slide.
I groaned loud, hand flying to her head. Not pushing—just holding. Her lips stretched around me, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. She moaned around my cock, the vibration shooting straight up my spine.
“Goddamn, baby…”
She popped off for a second, just long enough to look up at me with those dark, needy eyes. “Tastes like us,” she said, voice thick. Then she dove back down, taking me all the way until her nose pressed against my stomach.
I cursed under my breath. She was good at this—always had been—but mornings like this, when she was still loose from drinking and didn’t care about being quiet or neat, she was fucking lethal. Spit slicked down my shaft, her hand pumping what her mouth couldn’t reach. She bobbed fast, sloppy, greedy. Little whimpers coming from her throat every time she gagged herself on me.
I felt my balls tighten way too quick.
“Slow down or I’m gonna—”
She pulled off with a wet pop, grinning like the devil. “Not yet. I want to ride you first.”
She climbed on top before I could catch my breath. Straddled my hips, knees digging into the mattress. Her pussy was already soaked—I could see it glistening when she spread herself with two fingers, rubbing the head of my cock through her folds.
“Fuck, look at you,” I muttered. “So wet.”
“Been thinking about this since I woke up.” She lined me up, sank down just the tip. We both groaned. “Wanted to feel you stretch me again.”
She didn’t ease down slow. She dropped her hips hard, taking every inch in one go. Her head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry. I grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing.
“Shit—tight,” I gritted out.
She started moving right away. No warm-up. Just rocking her hips in that perfect circle she does, the one that makes me lose my mind. Her hands planted on my chest for balance, nails digging in. Breasts bouncing with every roll.
“Like this?” she panted, grinding down deep, clit rubbing against my pelvis.
“Yeah—just like that. Fuck, you’re so good at this.”
She smiled, wicked. “I know.”
She picked up speed. Hips snapping, ass slapping against my thighs. Wet sounds filled the room—her pussy sucking me in every time she lifted, then slamming back down. I thrust up to meet her, hard, matching her rhythm.
“Harder,” she begged. “Fuck me harder.”
I gripped her waist, took control for a minute—lifting her just enough to slam her back down. She cried out, loud enough the neighbors probably heard.
“Yes—yes—right there—”
Her thighs started shaking. I could feel her getting tighter, wetter. She leaned forward, changed the angle so I hit that spot inside her over and over.
“Oh god—I’m close already,” she whimpered. “Touch me—please—”
I slid one hand between us, thumb finding her clit. Rubbed fast circles the way she likes. She jerked, whole body tensing.
“Gonna come—gonna come on your cock—”
“Do it,” I growled. “Come all over me, baby.”
She shattered. Back arching, mouth open in a broken moan. Pussy clenching so hard I almost lost it right there. She kept riding through it, grinding down, milking every pulse.
When she finally stopped trembling, she collapsed on my chest, breathing ragged. But she didn’t stop moving—just slower rolls now, keeping me buried deep.
“Your turn,” she whispered against my lips.
I flipped us in one move. She laughed, surprised, legs wrapping around my waist. I thrust hard—deep, punishing strokes. She clawed my back, moaning into my mouth.
“Come inside me,” she said, voice wrecked. “Want to feel it again.”
That was all it took. I buried myself as deep as I could, groaned loud, and came hard. Pulse after pulse, filling her up. She whimpered at the feeling, thighs squeezing me tight.
We stayed locked together for a minute, catching our breath. She kissed my shoulder, my neck, my jaw.
“Best wake-up call ever,” I muttered.
She giggled. “You’re welcome.”
I rolled off her carefully. She stretched like a cat, arms above her head, looking satisfied and still a little drunk.
“I’m starving now,” she said.
“Same.”
She sat up, sheet falling to her waist. “Shower first. Then mall. I want to walk around, eat junk food, maybe buy something pretty for tonight.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“Yeah.” She leaned over, kissed me quick. “You spoiled me last night. Now I want to wear something new… and let you take it off later.”
My cock twitched at the thought, even though we’d just finished.
“You’re gonna kill me,” I said.
“Good way to go.” She slid out of bed, naked, ass swaying as she walked toward the bathroom. “Come on. Shower. Then we’re going to the mall. I’m craving churros and boba. And maybe some new lingerie if you’re lucky.”
I watched her disappear through the door, heard the water turn on.
I lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling, grinning like an idiot.
Two years married, and she still made me feel like the luckiest bastard alive.
I got up, followed her into the steam.
She was already under the spray, head tipped back, letting water run down her body. I stepped in behind her, arms around her waist.
“Happy Saturday,” I said against her wet shoulder.
She turned in my arms, kissed me slow and deep.
“Happy Saturday, husband.”
We washed each other slow—hands everywhere, not rushing. Just touching. Kissing. Laughing when soap got in our eyes.
After, we dressed casual—her in tiny denim shorts and a cropped tee that showed a strip of stomach, me in jeans and a plain black shirt. She put on light makeup, left her hair down and wavy from the night before.
We walked out hand in hand.
The mall was already busy—weekend crowd, families, couples, teenagers everywhere. Air smelled like popcorn and perfume samples.
Yooyeon pulled me toward the food court first.
“Churros. Now.”
I laughed. “Bossy.”
“You love it.”
We got a big box—extra chocolate sauce. Sat on a bench, her legs over mine, feeding each other bites. She licked sugar off her thumb, eyes locked on me the whole time.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said. “We’re in public.”
“Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re trying not to get hard in the middle of the mall.”
I groaned. “Evil woman.”
She grinned, took another bite. “After this, lingerie store. Then maybe that bookstore you like. Then home. So you can see what I pick out.”
I leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth where chocolate lingered.
“Deal.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, watching people walk by.
“I love days like this,” she said quietly. “Just us. No plans. No pressure.”
“Me too.”
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you for last night. Really.”
“Anytime. Every time.”
She looked up at me, eyes soft. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
We finished the last bite of churro and wiped our hands on napkins.
Yooyeon licked a tiny smear of chocolate off her finger, eyes flicking to mine like she knew exactly what that did to me.
“Come on,” she said, hopping off the bench and grabbing my hand. “Ice cream. Brain freeze will cool me down after that churro sugar rush.”
I let her pull me toward the food court’s ice cream stall—the one with the soft-serve machines and the long line of kids and couples. She bounced a little as we walked, still in that cropped tee and tiny denim shorts that showed off her legs.
The line moved fast. When we got to the front, she leaned over the counter, reading the menu board like it was the most important decision of the day.
“Two cones,” she told the girl behind the counter. “One matcha with strawberry swirl, one chocolate with cookie bits. And extra napkins, please. We’re messy.”
The girl nodded, already scooping. Yooyeon turned back to me, grinning.
“Matcha’s for me. Chocolate cookie for you. You always steal bites of mine anyway, so fair trade.”
I wrapped my arm around her waist from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. “You know me too well.”
She leaned back into me, ass pressing just enough against my front to make me aware of it. “Mmm. I do.”
Our order came. She handed me the chocolate one and took a big lick of hers right away—green and pink swirl melting already in the mall AC. She moaned a little, dramatic.
“So good. Try.”
She held it up to my mouth. I took a bite. She watched my lips the whole time, then licked her own like she was tasting it secondhand.
We wandered while we ate, away from the food court toward the quieter end of the mall where the boutiques were. She kept stealing licks from my cone too, even though she had her own. By the time we were halfway through, her lips were sticky and her tongue was bright pink from the strawberry.
“Messy girl,” I teased, wiping a drop from her chin with my thumb.
She caught my thumb before I could pull it back, sucked it clean slow—eyes locked on mine.
“Oops,” she said, voice low. “Better?”
I felt my dick twitch in my jeans. “You’re playing dangerous games in public.”
She just smiled, innocent as hell, and kept walking.
We passed a few clothing stores, but she slowed when we got to the lingerie section— that one shop with the black and pink sign, windows full of lace and satin. She stopped right in front, tilting her head.
“This one,” she decided. “I’ve never gone in here with you before.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You sure? It’s kinda… exposed.”
“That’s the point.” She tugged my hand. “Come on. Help me pick.”
Inside smelled like vanilla and expensive perfume. Soft lighting, mirrors everywhere, music low and slow. A salesgirl in her twenties smiled at us from behind the counter but didn’t hover—good instinct.
Yooyeon went straight to the racks like she knew what she wanted. She pulled out a black lace set first—bra with thin straps, matching thong that was basically nothing.
“What do you think?” she asked, holding it against her body over her clothes.
I swallowed. “Dangerous.”
She laughed softly. “Good dangerous?”
“Very.”
She added it to her arm, then grabbed a red one—satin bra with little bows, garter belt attached, stockings clipped on display.
“Red’s bold,” I said.
“I’m feeling bold today.” She glanced around, then leaned close. “Imagine peeling this off me later. Slow. One clip at a time.”
My voice came out rough. “Keep talking like that and we’re not making it home.”
She bit her lip, pleased. “Promise?”
She kept going—picked up a white sheer babydoll thing that would hide nothing, then a green satin slip with slits up the sides.
“Too many?” she asked, looking at the pile on her arm.
“Nope. Try them on. I’ll wait.”
She disappeared into the fitting room. I leaned against the wall outside, trying to look casual while my mind ran through every piece she’d grabbed.
A few minutes later the curtain slid open just enough for her to peek out.
“Come here,” she whispered.
I checked—no one was looking. Slipped inside.
She’d put on the black lace first. Bra pushed her tits up perfectly, nipples dark through the sheer parts. Thong high on her hips, cutting across her ass in a way that made my mouth dry. She turned slow, showing me the back—two thin straps over her shoulders, ass cheeks framed like a gift.
“Like?” she asked, voice soft.
I stepped closer, hands sliding to her waist. “Fuck yes.”
She pressed back against me, grinding once—slow, deliberate. I was hard instantly.
“Shh,” she giggled. “Not here. But… soon.”
She changed quick—tried the red next. The garter belt hugged her thighs, stockings sheer black. She hooked one leg up on the little bench, posing.
“Red’s my favorite so far,” I admitted.
“Mine too.” She ran her hands down her sides. “Feels sexy. Powerful.”
Next was the white babydoll. Sheer enough I could see every curve, every freckle. She spun, fabric floating.
“Too innocent?” she asked.
“Not on you.” I pulled her in, kissed her neck. “You make innocent look filthy.”
She moaned quietly, head tilting to give me more skin.
Last one—the green satin slip. She slid it over her head, let it fall. It clung to her like water, slits showing flashes of thigh every time she moved.
“This one’s easy access,” she whispered, lifting the hem just enough to show she wasn’t wearing anything underneath in the fitting room.
I groaned low. “You’re killing me.”
She dropped the hem, turned to face me. “I’m buying all of them. But I’m wearing the red tonight. With the garters.”
I nodded, words gone.
She changed back into her normal clothes fast, handed me the pile. “You pay. I’ll wait outside. Don’t want the salesgirl thinking we were doing something naughty in there.”
I laughed. “Too late for that.”
At the counter, the girl rang everything up without blinking—black lace set, red with garters, white babydoll, green slip. Total made my wallet cry a little, but worth every cent.
Yooyeon waited by the door, swinging the bag when I came out.
“Thank you,” she said, kissing me quick—right there in the mall hallway.
“Anytime.”
We walked out slow, her arm looped through mine. The mall was still buzzing, but it felt like we were in our own bubble.
“Home now?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. But first… one more stop.”
She pulled me toward a small stand selling those giant soft ice creams on sticks—dipped in chocolate, covered in sprinkles.
“Last treat before we go,” she said. “Then you get to unwrap me like a present.”
I bought two—one for each of us. She took a big bite, chocolate smearing her lips.
“Race you to the car?” she teased, already walking backward.
I caught her waist, pulled her close.
“No racing. I want to take my time getting you home.”
She smiled against my mouth, tasting like chocolate and trouble.
“Good,” she whispered. “Because I want you to take your time taking everything off me too.”
We headed to the parking lot, her hand in mine, bag swinging between us.
We got home just as the sun was dipping low.
The drive back was quiet—her hand on my thigh the whole way, fingers tapping a slow rhythm like she was already thinking about what came next.
I parked in our spot, killed the engine. Yooyeon grabbed the bag before I could, swinging it like it weighed nothing.
“Wait in the bedroom,” she said, voice low and teasing. “Don’t peek. I want to surprise you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How long?”
“Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. Long enough for you to get hard just thinking about it.”
She laughed when she saw my face, then pushed me toward the hallway with both hands on my chest.
“Go. Shower if you want. But be on the bed when I come in.”
I didn’t argue.
I walked to our room, flipped on the small bedside lamp instead of the overhead light—kept it dim, cozy. Kicked off my shoes, pulled my shirt over my head, tossed it on the chair. Jeans next, then boxers. I lay back on the bed in just my skin, propped against the pillows, cock already half-hard from the way she’d been looking at me all afternoon.
The clock on the nightstand said 7:12. I stared at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of her moving around the apartment—water running in the bathroom, drawers opening and closing, soft footsteps on the wood floor. Every little noise made my pulse kick up.
At 7:28 the bathroom door clicked shut. Then quiet. Too quiet.
I waited.
The bedroom door opened slow.
Yooyeon stepped in.
Fuck.
She’d picked the red one.
The satin bra cupped her perfectly, pushing her breasts up high, little black bows sitting right on the center of each cup like they were begging to be untied. The matching garter belt hugged her waist, thin straps clipping to sheer black stockings that made her legs look a mile long. No panties—just smooth skin, bare pussy already glistening under the soft light. Her hair was down, loose waves framing her face, lips painted a deeper red than usual. She’d done smoky eyes too—made them look darker, hungrier.
She leaned against the doorframe for a second, one hand on her hip, the other trailing down her stomach, stopping just above her clit.
“Like what you see?” she asked, voice husky.
I sat up straighter, cock fully hard now, throbbing against my stomach. “Come here.”
She smiled slow, pushed off the frame, and walked toward the bed. Deliberate steps—hips swaying, stockings whispering with every move. When she reached the edge of the mattress she stopped, just out of reach.
“Not yet,” she said. “Look first.”
She turned slowly, showing me the back. The garter straps framed her ass perfectly, crisscrossing over her cheeks. She bent forward a little, hands on her knees, arching her back so I could see everything—pink folds already wet, clit peeking out.
“Jesus, Yooyeon…”
She straightened, turned back to face me. Climbed onto the bed on her knees, crawling toward me like a cat. The satin bra shifted with every move, nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric.
When she reached me she straddled my thighs, not sitting down yet—just hovering, heat from her pussy radiating against my cock.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
My hands went to her waist first, thumbs brushing the satin of the garter belt. Then up, cupping her breasts through the bra. Heavy, soft. I dragged my thumbs over her nipples—she gasped, hips jerking forward so her wet slit slid along my length.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “You’re soaked already.”
“Been wet since the fitting room,” she admitted, rocking slow. “Thought about you the whole time I was trying these on.”
I reached behind her, found the bra clasp. One flick—hooks undone. The red satin fell away. Her breasts spilled out, nipples dark and tight. I leaned in, took one in my mouth, sucked hard. She moaned loud, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
“Yes—like that—”
I switched to the other, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough. Her hips rolled faster, coating my cock in her slick.
“Want you inside,” she panted. “Now.”
She lifted up, reached between us, lined me up. Sank down slow this time—inch by inch, eyes locked on mine. We both groaned when she bottomed out, her ass flush against my thighs.
“So full,” she breathed. “Love how you stretch me.”
She started riding—slow at first, rolling her hips in that perfect circle. The garter straps pulled tight every time she lifted, stockings sliding against my skin. I grabbed her ass, helped her move—lifting her, slamming her back down.
“Harder,” she begged. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
I thrust up hard, meeting her halfway. The bed creaked. Her tits bounced with every slam, nipples brushing my chest. She leaned forward, kissed me messy—tongue deep, teeth clashing.
“Gonna come soon,” she whimpered against my mouth. “Touch my clit—please—”
I slid one hand between us, found her swollen clit with my thumb. Rubbed fast, firm circles. She jerked, whole body tensing.
“Right there—fuck—don’t stop—”
Her pussy clenched hard around me, fluttering. She cried out, loud and broken, nails digging into my shoulders. I felt her come—hot, wet pulses squeezing my cock, thighs shaking.
I didn’t stop thrusting—fucked her through it, drawing it out until she was trembling, gasping.
When she finally caught her breath she looked at me, eyes glassy.
“Your turn,” she said. “Come inside me. Fill me up with this on.”
She started riding again—faster now, chasing my orgasm. The sight of her in the red lingerie, garters taut, stockings still perfect, hair wild—it was too much.
“Fuck, baby—I’m close—”
“Do it,” she whispered, grinding down deep. “Come in your wife.”
I gripped her hips hard, thrust up once, twice—then buried deep and came. Groaned loud, spilling into her, pulse after pulse. She moaned at the feeling, rocking slow to milk every drop.
We stayed like that for a minute—her on top, me still inside, both breathing hard. She leaned down, kissed me soft this time. Sweaty forehead against mine.
“Worth every cent,” she murmured.
I laughed, breathless. “You’re gonna bankrupt me with more shopping trips like that.”
She kissed my nose. “I’ve got three more sets in the bag.”
She slid off me carefully, cum already starting to drip down her thigh. She didn’t bother wiping it—just lay beside me, one leg thrown over mine, head on my chest.
After a minute she lifted her head, chin on my shoulder, eyes soft but serious.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
She bit her lip, then smiled small. “I think I want a baby.”
I blinked. Turned my head to look at her properly. “Really? After all this time?”
“Yeah.” She traced my collarbone. “Her family’s been pushing forever, right? But I never wanted it because of them. I wanted it to be because of us. Tonight… wearing this, feeling you inside me, everything just clicked. I want our kid. With you.”
My heart did a weird flip. I pulled her closer, kissed her forehead. “You sure? We’ve been happy just us.”
“I’m sure.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “I’m 26 now. We’ve got the apartment, steady jobs. And I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I want to make a little person who looks like both of us. Who laughs like you when they’re sleepy.”
She paused, voice dropping. “We don’t have to rush. But… maybe we stop being careful tonight. Just see what happens.”
I searched her face. No doubt there. Just warmth. Want.
“Okay,” I said. “If you’re ready, I’m ready.”
Her smile got big. She rolled on top of me again, straddling my hips. The garters stretched tight across her thighs.
“Then let’s make sure,” she said, voice playful now. “One more round. Deep. No pulling out this time.”
I was already getting hard again just from her words. She felt it, grinned, reached down and stroked me slow.
“See? You want it too.”
She lifted up, guided me back inside her—still slick from before, warm and easy. We both sighed when I slid all the way in.
“Fuck, baby… you feel perfect,” I groaned.
She started moving, slow and deep this time. No rush. Hips rolling in that way she knows drives me crazy. Her hands on my chest, nails light.
“Imagine it,” she whispered, eyes half-closed. “Me getting round with our baby. You rubbing my belly. Us picking names in bed like this.”
I gripped her hips, thrust up gentle to meet her. “Boy or girl?”
“Doesn’t matter. As long as they’re ours.”
She leaned down, kissed me slow—tongue sliding against mine, breathing together. We rocked like that for long minutes, building steady. No loud moans this time. Just soft sounds, skin on skin, her breath in my ear.
“I love you,” she said against my mouth. “So much.”
“Love you more. Always.”
Her rhythm got a little faster. She clenched around me, close again.
“Come with me,” she breathed. “Inside. All the way.”
I held her tight, thrust deep, and let go. She came right after—quiet gasp, body shaking, milking me. I filled her again, pulse after pulse, imagining it taking root.
We stayed joined, her on my chest, breathing slow.
She kissed my jaw. “That felt different. Special.”
“Yeah.”
She smiled sleepy. “Maybe it worked. Maybe not. We’ll try again tomorrow if we have to.”
I laughed soft, wrapped my arms around her. “Every night. As many as it takes.”
She nuzzled closer, still in her red lingerie, garters tangled in the sheets.
Our future felt wide open now. Just us, plus maybe one more.
And I couldn’t wait.