Tags: 7k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw
The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
“Are you ready for me? I hope you’re saving up for when I see you tomorrow 😘”
Minji attached a video. It was taken right before we were going to be separated for months. The video started on her face, scrunched up in pleasure, then scanned down her chest to her perky tits that were crowned by stiff nipples. The video kept going down, showing her taut, flat stomach and the perfectly smooth shaved pussy.
Further down, I could see her pussy lips welcoming my cock over and over again accompanied by a wet sound.
Behind the camera, I could hear myself saying in a low, gruff voice, “Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.”
“Just cum inside me,” Minji moaned. “Cum in me...”
The video shows me bottoming her out as far as possible, before emptying a week’s worth of cum into her pussy. Minji moaned off-camera as I pulled my cock from her grasping pussy, allowing the cum to spill out of her, it’s overflowing. I paused the video.
“Come on,” I typed back.
“That is not fair. You’re making it difficult for me to stick to our agreement.”
I must admit that quitting masturbation for weeks was more difficult than I expected. But the girlfriend was going to be out of town for that whole time, and I’d agreed to save it for her. Knowing the pent up passion will make my first time fucking her in weeks even better.
Our junior year of college ended three weeks ago, so our entire group of friends decided to take a vacation at Yejun’s family’s home in Jeju before starting our summer jobs, and Minji needed to visit family, so she was only coming for the last leg of the trip.
“Only 16 more hours,” Minji texted back. “I get in late tonight.”
“Wake me up when you do,” I replied.
“I’ve got a few ideas.” She attached another picture, this time of herself with two fingers buried inside her wet pussy.
“Too much teasing and it’s only 9 a.m. - I’m blocking you” I joked, before hearing a knock at the door.
“One sec.” I called out, before texting Minji: “Have to go, big day of hiking ahead.” I put my phone down, then yelled to the door “Come in!”
Haerin stepped through the door, looking alert and chipper in athletic attire. She took in the room, frowning.
“We’ve only been here one night and your room already look like garbage dump.”
Kang Haerin. My childhood friend grew up two houses from me. We both went to the same college, which was several states away from our hometown, and we remained good friends. However, I can’t say no one asked about me and Haerin, since we’re really that close.
She was undeniably beautiful. I wonder how she can be her while I’m just… me? God really has a favorite.
Though many of our friends say that Haerin has a cat-like personality. That’s right, ‘a cat’ as in small domestic animals covered with fur. See, I'm not sure where they got that idea.
Watching her grew into a stunning, willowy woman with a shapely ass and breasts that were on the smaller side but perfectly fit her short frame. I knew she was beautiful, but our relationship was never particularly romantic, which suited us perfectly. We worked too well as friends to risk anything. Besides, she had been the one to introduce me to Minji, and Haerin was dating Yejun.
“You know how I feel about putting clothes in drawers while on vacation. Besides, you don’t have to share my room,” I said.
I stealthily tucked my erection into my waistband and stood up, brushing past her to grab one of the shirts from the ground to put it on.
“You’re horrible,” Haerin said with a laugh. “Anyway, I was just coming to rouse you for breakfast. Everyone else is done eating.”
“Should I pack a hat?”
“I don’t know. Yejun said there was a chance of rain. Can I check the weather from your phone?”
“Sure.”
Haerin picked up my phone, then let out a yelp and dropped it. She blushed furiously “Waaaa, Sorry, Sorry!”
“What?” I crossed to the bed and picked up my phone. Minji had texted one last picture, this one a closeup of us having sex. The caption read: “Don’t tire yourself out too much.” Haerin had picked up my phone only to get an eyeful of my cock stretching out her friend’s pussy.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be up on my phone,” I said, embarrassed. “Minji’s been... sending me stuff in preparation for her arrival tonight.”
“Oh, yeah- no, I get it.” Haerin blushed even deeper, then paused. “I- I only looked for a second, so I barely saw anything.”
“No, of course.” I said.
She looked more flustered than I had seen her in a long time. Neither of us knew what to say.
“I- I’ll just check the weather on my phone,” Haerin said, rushing out of my room.
Given that she was dating Yejun, I assumed she had overcome her embarrassment and shame about sex, but she was still fairly innocent. However, she had just been surprised with a close-up photo of her two friends having sex, so who wouldn’t be embarrassed?
—
Despite the late start, a few cups of black coffee jolted me awake for the hike. Our other friends were experienced hikers who were glad to drag us along at their rapid pace, up trails with pine needles that covered treacherous rocks and roots. I spent the majority of the hike watching where I put my foot, expecting to twist my ankle at any second. When I did hike without my eyes glued to the ground, I found them drawn up perfect, toned, slender legs to Haerin’s ass in her tight athletic shorts. She was walking ahead of me, holding hands with Yejun.
I shake my head. Clearly, a combination of Minji’s teasing and the sexual frustration of the last few weeks had transformed me into a dog, slobbering over anything with the slightest female form.
We stopped for water at a clearing that looked out over the miles of trees below us. As I drank from my water bottle, Yejun pulled me aside.
“Can I ask you something? It’s about Haerin.”
“What’s up?” I thought Haerin had told him about the picture she’d seen of Minji and me and I was ready to apologize.
“Haerin and I have been dating for like eight months now, and...” he paused, a little awkward. “I know this is weird, since you guys have been friends forever, but I’m just gonna say it: I kinda thought we’d be doing more, sexually, by now. All we’ve done is dry humping, nothing below the clothes.”
Hearing that was surprising, but not completely unexpected. I don’t know how that made me feel. Part of me was bummed for my friends that they were missing out on all the great things sex had to offer, but another part of me, one I didn’t realize was there, felt a flash of... something. Not surprise, but maybe lust. I tried to kept my face straight as he went on.
“She’s said she’s waiting to actually have sex, which I totally understand, but do you think she’d want to do anything more than just make out and dry hump? Not just for me. I’d like to make her... finish, you know.”
“I haven’t talked with her about it, it’s not the sort of thing we discuss.” I said, truthfully.
“Do you know if she’s ever gone further than that with her previous boyfriends?” He asked.
“What previous boyfriends?”
Haerin had never dated anyone seriously before Yejun. Hell, the only reason I knew she was straight in high school was that she’d talk about having crushes on boys, but when I’d tell her to do something, she’d refuse.
“If I were you, I’d just let her lead the way. She does what she wants, but not before she’s ready.” I added.
On the way back down the mountain I watched Haerin with more curiosity. It certainly explained her reaction to the picture - she was totally inexperienced, so maybe it was more disgust at what she had seen. I felt bad for just leaving my phone open. I knew her well enough to know her reaction wouldn’t be one of judgment, but it had to make her uncomfortable. I resolved to apologize when I got the chance.
By the end of the hike, we were all soaked in sweat. Haerin pulled up her shirt to mop her flushed face, I could make out the tender curve of her breasts beneath her sports bra… I felt another pang somewhere in my stomach…surprisingly hard nipples. When she lowered the shirt she was looking right at me. I looked away, a little too late.
Damn, I thought, cursing the fact that Minji wouldn’t return for another eight or nine hours. I just needed to stop myself from getting horny for long enough not to do something stupid.
—
“Well, I’m gonna head to bed,” Yejun said, getting up. It was late at night and we’d put on a movie after the night of drinking had wound down. Just about everybody had drifted off from the movie and gone to sleep, save for me, Yejun, and Haerin, who’d seen it through to the end. We were all tired, dressed for bed.
“I’ll be right there,” Haerin said, as Yejun wandered off groggily. Then she turned to me, a small smile on her lips. “T minus two hours until Minji gets here. Are you excited?”
“Of course. I miss her a lot.”
“I mean, are you... excited?” Haerin said, gesturing down at my crotch.
“Hahaha,” I said sarcastically.
Haerin sat in a comfortable recliner across from me, her legs crossed under her. Without realizing it, my eyes drifted down her pajama-clad form and I saw with a start that she wasn’t wearing panties under her loose pajama shorts. I could make out a small dark bush and the tight cleft at the top of what seemed to be her beautiful innie pussy. Of course she wasn’t shaven, I thought, my cock beginning to thicken. She’d never even had sex.
“I guess she hasn’t been too far away, considering all those pictures,” Haerin said.
She shifted on the chair. I got an even better view of her small bush, and through it, her neat pussy lips.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t have to see that.” I tore my eyes away from the faint glimpse of her pussy.
“No, I liked it,” Haerin said. “The wifi’s terrible out here, so my porn has been taking forever to load. Easier to just get it off from the two of you.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I joked.
“Is there?”
I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was bluffing. We’d both had a lot to drink, but the several hours of the movie had sobered us up. She didn’t usually speak this brazenly.
“Yeah. Videos, too.”
Haerin’s face was now as flushed as mine, is she’s serious?
“Can I see it?”
“Should I airdrop them?”
Haerin stood up and walked across the room to mine. My heart started to beat fast. I couldn’t stand up, because I was so hard.
“Show me.”
I opened my phone, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I pulled up the picture she’d seen, the close-up of Minji’s pussy with my bare cock drilling into it.
“Really?” I asked.
Haerin nodded. She leaned down, and I caught the soft curve of her small breast down her sleep shirt. I hesitated, then thought, Fuck it. I turned the phone to her.
“I’ve already seen this one,” she whispered, sending a shiver up my spine. This was bad. I was too horny. I should lock my phone and get out of here. I swiped to the next one -- the video of me and Minji, paused with the cum trickling out of her pussy, her tits and face in the shot.
“Where are you?”
I rewound the video. The only sound in the room was the slick squishing noise of me and Minji fucking, then her moaning. Haerin’s mouth was half-open as she watched.
“Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.” At that, I quickly paused the video, returning to my senses. This was too much. Too personal. Minji wouldn’t want me showing intimate videos of us to one of our best friends. And did I really want Haerin to see my dick? I was more drunk than I thought. And so was she, if she allowed it.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t show you that.”
“No, it’s okay,” Haerin muttered. “It’s… hot. I have a thing for small dicks.”
I looked up at her. She was grinning. We both burst into laughter.
“Oh, you…” I said, leaping up to grab her. She shrieked and tried to make an escape, but I grabbed her and tackled her, tickling her, onto the couch. We were both laughing. Only when I paused for breath did I realize what a bad idea that had been. I was still completely hard, and was only wearing my boxers.
From beneath me, Haerin tickled me back, and I grabbed her arms, trying to keep her from tickling me.
The rest of it happened fast. I was on top of her, hard, and somewhere in the maneuvering, my cock must have slipped out of the hole in my boxers. I knew that reaching down to fix the situation would immediately make it clear to her what had happened, so I tried to keep her pinned, unable to look down. That was my undoing -- Haerin spread her legs, trying to get them around me for some reason.
All of a sudden, as she did, I felt my cock press up through the leg of her baggy shorts, against her mound. She gasped in surprise, moving her lower body back, but all that did was make my cock slip down, nestling into the hot wetness between her pussy lips. It happened so fast I didn’t even think about the fact that she was dripping wet.
“Is that your…” Haerin started to ask, trying to reposition herself.
Then I felt my cockhead slipped inside her opening. We both froze. I looked down. Her pussy lips were stretched around my cock. I didn’t even have time to think about how amazing her pussy looked -- how long I’d wondered what it would look like, what she’d feel like. Though I was only a few inches into her, it was almost too much for me.
“Y- You’re... inside me.” Her voice quavered.
It happened in such slow motion that the freeze-frame image of Haerin below me, looking down in open-mouth surprise at her shorts pulled to the side, her wet pussy clenching my bare cock is imprinted on my mind, though the moment only lasted a second or two.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to...”
“No… I- I wasn’t wearing panties, it’s my...” She trailed off, her breath ragged.
The moment felt like a dream. Neither of us was moving to pull apart. My cock throbbed inside her, and she gasped as I felt her pussy clench. She was getting wetter, somehow. Involuntarily, I pushed an inch further into her, my cock moving on its own to bury itself as deep into her scalding hot pussy as it could.
“Wait…” she said, her voice soft and strained.
“Don’t-” Then she was cut off by a gasp. Her body shuddered, and her legs which still around my back, pushed me deeper into her. I bottomed her out, God her pussy is sooo tight.
Haerin was small, but she could take my whole length buried snugly inside her. Then she came, hard, trying to stifle her own moans while her pussy clenched around my cock.
“Anhh- fuck I’m…cumming...” Haerin whimpered.
Her body jerked, and she wrapped her arms around mine, pushing our bodies together. Her pussy felt too tight. I wasn’t going to last, especially after three weeks of no sex or masturbation. I was bare inside of her, I couldn’t cum in her. With the last ounce of my willpower, I tried to pull out.
“Haerin, I’m gonna…”
I only made it halfway. Haerin, who was still shuddering in orgasm, firmly pulled me back into her. That feeling of sliding my entire length back into her tight pussy was the end of it. I felt my cock swelling up, before I came hard, deep inside her.
As my cock jerked, shooting cum against the back walls of her pussy, her eyes snapped open. She could feel my warmth splashing into her.
“No, no, I’m not…oohhh…”
She writhed in orgasm again, while I emptied weeks’ worth of cum into her. Any thought of trying to pull out was forgotten. All I wanted to do was bury into her and fill her up. I came and came. Each jerk of my cock within her drew another small moan from her. Her pussy squeezed my cock tighter than any I had ever experienced.
“Oh my god....” she moaned softly.
I slumped down on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck. We stayed like that for a while, until the last jerks of my cock and the last of her small shudders subsided, indicating that we’d ridden out our climaxes.
I lifted my head to look at her. She was beautiful- wide brown eyes, cheeks flushed, her hair a mess on her sweaty forehead. Through her white sleep shirt, I could see the outlines of her areolae and the tiny tents of her nipples. We looked at each other for quite a while, faces close together, then she shook her head in wonder.
“I can’t believe that just happened.”
Haerin looked down on our connection, where my cock was still buried inside her. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed love juice, dripping and creaming around my cock.
“You cum inside me…” she said, quietly.
“I- I’m so sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to-”
“No, I stopped you from pulling out. I... I’ve never cum that hard before. It was… really good, I didn’t want it to end.”
“Me neither,” I said, and she let out a small laugh. As she did, her pussy squeezed me, milking another drop of cum from me.
I breathed out and lifted myself up, pulling my cock out of Haerin with a soft squishing noise. My cum dripped out from between her legs, and she reached down to catch it with her fingers. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you always... cum this much? How does Minji take it all?”
The mere mention of Minji twisted my insides. “Oh, god…”
“Don’t feel bad. It was an accident.” Haerin was still on her back, legs spread, looking up at me, making no effort whatsoever to conceal her small, hairy, freshly fucked pussy. It was a beautiful sight.
“Yeah, An accident.” I said.
“No need to explain to either Minji or Yejun why you took your best friend’s virginity and pumped her pussy full of cum, especially when it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Oh fuck- Haerin, I…” In the rush of sensations, I had completely forgotten that I had taken her virginity.
She finally stood, barely reaching my collarbone. I couldn’t read her expression. Then she just pulled off her shirt, revealing her beautiful round, petite breasts that sat high on her chest, with brown nipples that looked perfect on her small tits. She slid her shorts down, revealing her pussy in all its glory. A line of cum is dripping down her legs.
“I’m going to need to shower.” She looked dead serious.
I couldn’t tell if she was angry, confused, sad, or… I was horrified to think I’d just ruined one of my longest friendships.
“Haerin, I…”
“Come join me.”
She took a step toward me and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. In my dazed state, I hadn’t tucked my cock back into my boxers, and it was pressing into her mound. I was still wet from our combined juices. Haerin looked up at me. Tentatively as if we hadn’t just fucked, I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips met in a spark of passion, we kissed with an open mouth as our tongues probing hungrily for each other, And as if it had been forever. Finally, we broke apart.
“Losing virginity to your best friend, that was the best way to lose my virginity I could have ever asked for.”
Haerin took my hand and led us to the bathroom before locking the door behind us.
“Never know when Yejun will be back,” she said softly.
Haerin turned on the shower. Undressing myself as I watched her outline in the mirror, her incredible ass, tight and perfect for her frame, and that pristine lips between her legs. She shivered after splashing water on her breasts to test their warmth.
“This place takes forever to turn on the hot water,” Haerin said.
I was zooning out, naked, half-hard, staring at her. “What?”
“Oh- just trying to figure out where we’re going from here.” I added.
“Don’t overthinking it. We will always love each other. One accident won’t change that. Besides, there’s something poetic about losing your virginity to the same person you had your first kiss with. Someone you can really trust.”
As she spoke, she stood close to me in this small bathroom. It was surreal having this conversation with your best friend, not to mention that both of us naked, having just fucked, cum still dripping out of her pussy. I started to get hard again, cursing myself for being this horny.
“Wow,” she said, looking down at my crotch.
“Already? You are insatiable.”
“I’ve just been wondering how you look naked, and here you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
Haerin grabbed my cock with her slender hand.
“Why do you think I wanted to shower with you?”
She got down on her knees, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and her small mouth half-open. Slowly but surely, she reached out her tongue to lick my tip. A strand of our mixed juice trailed from her tongue.
“Haerin…”
“I’ve never given a blowjob, either,” she said thoughtfully, working her hands up and down my shaft. She circled the tip with her tongue.
“I assumed it would happen before I had sex. I definitely didn’t think I’d be licking my own cum off a cock that had just finished inside me,” she said.
She parted her lips and enveloped my cock in the warm wetness of her mouth. She bobbed up and down on my shaft several times, cleaning her pussy juices and mine off with her tongue. Then she pulled back, looking up at me while continued to jerk my cock.
“I can’t tell if this is you or me, but wow, we taste really good together.”
Before I could answer, she closed her lips around me again, gradually finding a rhythm as she sucked me. I stroked her hair, looking down at the beautiful sight before me, Haerin’s hair is a mess, sucking her best friend cock, her nipples protruded proudly from her pert breast. Her mouth felt almost as amazing as her pussy, and I soon found myself swelling with anticipation. She clearly felt it too as she took me out of her mouth and asked…
“Would you rather cum in my mouth or in my pussy?”
It was strange to hear her, the innocent, sweet, nerdy Haerin, talk like this.
“I didn’t realize you liked talking dirty.”
“You know me,” she said, smiling. “I’m a detail-oriented person.” She continued on sucking, demonstrating a surprising skill despite the fact that it’s her first time giving a blowjob.
She looked up at me and repeated her question.
“So, in my mouth or in my pussy?”
“Honestly I want to do both, but you know me, always indecisive… and God… it’s hard to think with your mouth is on me.”
Haerin stood up as the bathroom started to steam up.
“Think the water’s warm enough?” She asked, grinning.
She pulled me into the shower and our bodies intertwined under the water. I grabbed and kissed her hungrily, working my hands down her breasts, to her side, to her tight ass, pulling her close to me and pressing my cock against her. She lifted her leg onto the side of the bathtub, spreading herself to me. I got down on my knees and pressed my lips against her slit. She moaned in pleasure, but she turned my head, forcing me to look up at her.
“You don’t have to. I… I haven’t shaved.”
“I don’t care about that. Besides, Minji isn’t either.”
“Yeah,” Haerin said, inhaling as I planted a kiss on her nether lips. “I’ve seen the evidence…anhhh” Small moan escapes her lips.
“I want to taste you…”
That was the last word I said before I sank my tongue into her folds, working my way up to her clit and then back down, slowly. I slid a finger into her, pumping slowly in and out as I sucked and licked her clit. I’ve always loved the taste of pussy, and Haerin’s was no exception. As I finger-fucked her, I switched the up and down motion with my tongue to a circular motion, right on her clit.
“Enhhh god, please… just like that,” she whimpered.
“You’re gonna make me cum again... ahhh”
I kept up exactly like that, furiously tonguing her clit and driving my finger in and out of her. Her breath became heavier, and she pushed herself towards me, grinding hard against my mouth. I savored the taste of her tangy opening as she approached her second orgasm of the day.
Finally, with a great heaving sigh and a jerk of her body, she came. While her first orgasms had been hard and all-consuming, but relatively short, this one lasted longer, crashing like a slow wave. I held my mouth to her pussy and continued what I was doing until she stopped thrashing. She lifted me up and kissed me passionately.
“So, what do I taste like?” She asked smilingly.
“Hmm, you taste really good Haerin”
“Have you ever tried lemon zest?” I added.
“Mmm”
“You taste just like that,” I said, grinning.
She stood there for a moment, thinking about what I had just said, then she slapped my hand playfully, and we both burst out laughing.
I kissed her again, silencing her protest. She felt my cock nuzzled at her opening. She reached down and pump it up and down, stroking it up and down in a slow motion, we broke our embrace and she looked up at me. Water cascading down her breasts and dripping off her nipples.
“You didn’t cum in my mouth, and it seems that your dick made the choice for you. In my pussy it is.”
“Haerin. Once is an accident, twice is a choice,”
“Just for tonight, kay? I need you in me.” She said softly.
I slowly began to push in through her tight pussy lips, a thought crossed my mind and I looked at her.
“You’re not on birth control, are you?” She shook her head, kissing me again and spread her legs wider so I could go deeper into her. And deeper it went, I began to push deeper, faster, and harder over and over again as her pussy stretching to accommodate its intruder.
“I could have sworn you got bigger just now,” she whispered, a small moan escapes her lips with every thrust.
“Maybe I like cumming inside you without protection.”
“Ehm yeah? maybe I like that, too… Ahh”
I looked down at our connection, how her perfect lips split open by my grith. She was so unbelievably silky and wet, the perfect pussy that I would ravage forever if I had the chance. And I was bare inside her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her pussy or her petite breasts, barely moving as I bottomed out in her again and again.
“Can I ask you something?” she panted between strokes.
“What?”
“Who... who feels better? Who do you like fucking more? Me or Minji?”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “Look who I’m inside of right now.”
Talking about Minji while fucking Haerin emphasized the forbidden feeling of it all. I could feel another orgasm rushing on, so I closed my eyes and tried to delay it.
“But if you had to say. And you can be honest.” She said.
“When I fuck Minji,” I said, slowing down my frantic thrusting.
“It’s amazing. She has the most incredible body, experienced, and knows exactly what to do to get me to cum. Sometimes I just enjoy burying myself in her pussy and feeling all of her around me”
“God, Haerin, you are so tight…” I stopped, holding my throbbing cock as far into her as it would go. Her eyes were mostly closed, savoring the feeling.
“Sometimes when I finish in her, she’ll reach down and taste me. Which just gets me going again. I have filled her up every different way. Just about every time you’ve seen her, she’s been full of me.” Haerin moaned at this, clenching me inside her.
“But you… it’s a whole different thing, fuck…” I growled.
I started to build up the pace, gripping her tighter as I pound her faster. Haerin wanted to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
We froze.
“Haerin? Are you in there?”
It was Yejun. He sounded tired. Haerin looked at me, unsure what to do.
“Nghh…yeah,” she called out. “I’m almost done.”
“Why are you showering this late?”
I could hear the wet squelch of her pussy even over the rushing water of the shower as I slid my cock in and out of her. She struggled to maintain her voice even as she responded.
“I- I was feeling… a little dirty…mmhh”
“Are you okay babe?” Yejun asked.
“Hmm… yeah… I- I just need a moment- nghh…”
I couldn’t hold out much longer. I whispered in her ear as I thrust into her “I’m going to cum.”
“Don’t cum too much,” Haerin warned in a low voice, pausing to gasp as I bottomed out in her. “You’re still going to need some for Minji tonight.”
“I’d rather use it all up in you.”
“Alright, I’m going to sleep,” Yejun said from outside.
He had no idea I was fucking his girlfriend for the second time ever, readying to burst my cum into her unprotected pussy, again. Haerin maintained eye contact with me as I sank deeper into her.
“I’ll come soon,” Haerin shouted to him, in a voice that I was sure sounded like she was being fucked. I looked down at her naked body, taking in the sight of her pink ravaged pussy and her firm tits, my thrusts increasing in intensity.
“Haerin…” That was all I could groan out before I pulled her tightly as I buried my cock as deep as it could go into her and burst my second load, painting her wall white as far as it could reach. I’m sure her womb is full of those small tadpoles by now.
Last time had been incredible for its novelty, but it had all happened so fast that I didn’t take it all in. This time, I looked down at her, eyes wide open in pleasure as she felt the warm of cum quickly filling her up. I pulled out halfway and pushed in again, watching, satisfied, as a glob of cum was pushed out around my cock, painting her lips white.
Haerin held me hard, flinching as she came down from her orgasm, while I fucked my last drops of cum into her. I was as far up her pussy as I could go and there was nothing between us. I looked down at her cum-filled pussy split open as I pulled out. Cum poured out of her and onto the floor of the shower.
She inserted two fingers into herself and pulled them out, covered in cum. She brought her fingers to her mouth and let me watch as she licked them clean.
“Better than Minji?” She asked with a low voice. In response, I leaned in to kiss her, our two tastes mingling as our lips met.
We toweled off quickly and went our separate ways after one last kiss. The last thing I thought before falling asleep was “I hope we did a good enough job washing each other off and -- out of ourselves.
—
I woke up the next morning, groggily taking in my surroundings, it was sunny in my room. Minji’s bag was on the desk. I realized Minji must have gotten in and not woke me up, or worse, she’d tried to wake me up and I’d been too tired. Then I felt a warm, wet mouth wrap around my cock, which was rapidly hardening. I Recognize Minji’s incredible lips as she looked up at me, smiling around my cock.
“Good morning!” She was topless, her breasts hanging down enticingly.
“I’m so sorry, I was really sleepy last night” I said.
Minji ran her tongue up the length of my cock, slowly and thoughtfully. “You know you talk in your sleep, right?”
“What?” I asked.
“Well, usually you don’t, but you must have been very tired.” She punctuated her sentences with slow licks on my cock. “See, when I came in and got naked and tried to wake you up, you said the darnedest thing.”
Minji buried my cock in her mouth, deepthroating me until her nose was pressed against my pubic bone before pulling back out, lines of spit connecting her mouth to my shaft. I looked down at her, puzzled.
“Right around the time I got you into my mouth, you looked at me and said, A third time in one night.” As she said that, my stomach clenched
She climbed up the bed, angling my cock in between her folds. “I didn’t know what that meant, but then you said, If we keep this up, Haerin, I’ll have no cum left for Minji.” She sat down on my still-wet cock, letting me bury myself into her velvety pussy.
“At first, I thought it might just be a wet dream. But then I tasted your cock and wouldn’t you know it, I could swear you tasted... different.” She lifted off of me, angling my cock into her for maximum tightness, then slowly inched back down. My head was filled with competing emotions; I was turned on, guilty, horrified, and excited all at once.
“Minji…”
“Did you fuck Haerin?”
I didn’t know what to do or say, besides… “I’m sorry...”
She sped up on top of me, working my cock inside her as only she knew how. “I thought she was a virgin.”
“She... she was. The first time was an accident,” I regretted and cursed myself. After these words left my mouth. Why the hell did I have to say ‘the first time?’
“The first time was an accident huh...and the second?”
“It was- less of an accident…” This was crazy. What was going one? She didn’t seem to be mad, asking the questions in a matter-of-fact tone, as if we were having a simple conversation while I was fucking her.
“I’m guessing you didn’t wear a condom based on the taste she left on you.” I shook my head slowly. “Lucky her. She loses her virginity by having raw sex with her best friend. Did you cum inside her?”
I nodded. My cock throbbed inside Minji, edging closer to orgasm. We both felt it. She kept her pace, sliding her perfect pussy up and down my cock.
“She got three weeks’ worth of your cum. Was her pussy... overflowing?” she asked, again.
All I could do was nod, getting closer to my own orgasm, what the hell with all these questions anyway?
“Are you thinking about it right now? Picturing how she looked?”
“It’s- hard not to, when you asking about it… nghh fuck Minji”
“Are you gonna cum in me while thinking about Haerin?
In response, I pushed all the way into Minji and emptied the cum I had left up her pulsing canal. She moaned louder, grinding her clit hard against mine, and she cummed too. I held Minji close as my cock emptying itself inside her.
I noticed a movement near the door.
Haerin stood in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the spot where Minji and I were joined: Minji on top in a cowgirl position, legs spread, my cock splitting her open with her ass facing the door. Haerin could see our connection where I was bottoming out deep insider her friend.
Minji saw where I was looking and turned around to see Haerin. Haerin flushed and backed away from the doorway, but Minji called out to her, “You can come in.” After a brief moment, Haerin’s head reappeared, beet-red.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Mean to what?” Minji cut her off.
I was still hard inside Minji and I could feel drops of our cum running down creaming my shaft. Haerin tried hard not to look at it, but failed, miserably.
“You didn’t mean to watch, or you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and take all his cum like a little slut?”
Haerin said nothing, mortified. I didn’t know what to say, either. Minji beckoned Haerin over to the bed, and she came hesitantly. She was wearing the same sleep shirt as last night, and her stiff nipples were clearly visible through it, maybe aroused by this all.
“Did you like watching us?” Minji asked and Haerin just nodded.
“Say it.”
“I liked watching,” Haerin said timidly.
“You liked watching what?”
Haerin swallowed nervously. “All of it. I liked... watching you... suck him off. I liked watching your pussy being pounded by him. I liked- watching… his cumming inside you.”
I was surprised to hear Haerin say that. The submissive side of her had taken over.
“Come here, you little slut.” Minji commanded.
Haerin got onto the bed, following her order. “Now I want you to taste our connection.” Haerin looked confused, so Minji clarified “Taste the place where he’s entering me.”
I was still rock-hard between Minji's lips. Haerin slid between my legs, looking directly at Minji's supple, round ass cheeks and her trimmed pussy around my cock. She tentatively reach oud her tongue to the underside of my cock. Slowly, she ran it up my shaft, gathering cum and Minji's cream on her tongue before reaching Minji's stretched pussy lips. She licked them up and around my cock, allowing me to feel her tongue on every pass. Minji breathed out slowly, clearly enjoying it.
“Now I want you to take him out of me and clean him off,” Minji said.
Haerin slowly reached out to grab my cock, which was slick with Minji's juices and my cum, and withdrew it from Minji with a soft squish. More of cum dripped on my cock. Haerin opened her mouth and leaned down take me in her mouth.
“Don’t swallow,” Minji said. “Keep it in your mouth.”
Haerin bobbed her head up and down, deliberately licking and sucking the wetness off my cock. Directly in front of her nose was Minji’s opening with cum dripping out slowly.
“Now put your mouth on my pussy and put it back in me.”
Haerin couldn’t reply, her mouth full, she looked hesitant. Minji rolled over, spreading her legs in front of Haerin.
“Haven’t you gotten enough of it? Put his cum back inside me.”
I was certain Haerin wouldn’t do it. Fucking me was one thing, eating Minji’s pussy was another. Would this new, submissive Haerin go for it? Still, she was holding the excess cum in her mouth, not swallowing it. She looked caught.
Minji absentmindedly rubbed her clit while waiting. Then, to my surprise, Haerin darted her mouth toward Minji's pussy, pressing her lips against it and reaching out her tongue to let the cum in her mouth dribble back into Minji's waiting hole. Minji moaned in pleasure.
“Keep going... make sure you get it all in...”
Haerin used her tongue to push the cum that had dribbled out of Minji’s pussy back in. She began to fuck Minji with her tongue, in and out of her sopping hole, tasting my cum every time she reached deeper into Minji. Minji closed her eyes, rubbing her nipples with one hand and using the other to press Haerin’s face into her womanhood.
I was rock hard again. Haerin was eating the cum out of Minji’s pussy, or, I guess, putting it back in. Was this a dream?
Minji writhed on the bed as Haerin continued lapping at her, bringing her tongue from the bottom of her pussy, where the cum had pooled, to the top, hungrily licking her clit. Minji gasped, her body rocked with waves of orgasm, and still Haerin kept going. I had never seen Minji orgasm from this angle, normally I was part of the process, and it was hot to see her body constrict in pleasure, tits bouncing, eyes screwed shut. It was even hotter watching Haerin eat her out.
Finally, Minji pulled Haerin's face away from her, which was wet with spit and our mixed juices. Both girls were panting.
“Have you ever gone down on a girl before?” Minji asked. Haerin shook her head, wiping off her mouth. She looked dazed but horny. “You’re good at it.”
Minji looked over at me, at my cock, which was standing upright. “And after all that, he’s still ready.”
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” was all I could manage to say.
Minji sat up and pushed Haerin down onto the bed, on her back. Under the sleep shirt, Haerin was wearing a pair of grey panties that were fully soaked through. Minji pulled the panties down, revealing Haerin’s wet, drenched pussy. As Haerin spread her legs, I watched her pussy lips come unglued from each other, revealing pink folds inside.
Minji reached down, into her own pussy, scooping my cum onto her fingers. She reached over and sank those fingers into Haerin’s. She moaned, writhing on the bed.
“You don’t need the extra lubrication,” Minji said, reaching down to spread her wetness over my cock. “But it’ll get you started.”
Minji pulled my cock to Haerin’s opening. I adjusted myself on the bed, getting up so I was supporting myself over Haerin. Minji slowly rubbed my tip up and down Haerin’s sopping lips, before putting me between them. Haerin cooed in pleasure.
“Show me how you fucked her.”
As I sank into Haerin for the third time, I looked over at Minji. My girlfriend was watching with rapt attention as I bottomed out in Haerin’s pussy. Then I looked at Haerin, who stared up at me with wide eyes. My longtime best friend, the girl I adored, was open beneath me.
“Fill me up again,” Haerin whispered.
“Once is an accident, twice is a choice, but three times?” I asked.
Two in the hand. Four on the table. Two pairs—jacks and sevens—and the look on her face just tells you she knows you're holding something. So when she bets big on the river, you call the bluff. It's a risk, it always is. The cards on the table don't offer a lot, but if she's sat on a pocket pair, she could have you beat. Or two clubs maybe, with two on the table, a fifth in the river would spell disaster.
But Yuqi has been bluffing all night, and you've got her dialled in, that rules out the pair.
Everyone else's cards are on the table, this is a game between you and her. If Yuqi has you, you die on your sword. If you read her correctly, you'll take her everything. The entire game.
The dealer makes it five cards on the table. Jack of clubs.
There's a flicker in Yuqi's eye, the same one as a few hands ago when the river gifted her a third king. Why does she make this so easy? And the poor woman is so blissfully unaware. She drags her eyes up from the table to give you a look. Pure arrogance and hubris.
"All in."
A few hours of play and it all comes down to this. Yuqi stares at you, head tilted forward, dark eyes beneath thick eyelashes, a smile hanging off those berry-red lips. She pushes every chip she has into the middle of the table.
"You have been waiting for this all night, haven't you? A chance to put me down?" you ask her, hesitating to call.
"Mhm." That devilish smirk on Yuqi's face drives the heart right out of your chest and sends it racing. "Call, or fold."
"Raise." A single word to take her breath away. "Everything I have on the table, plus my car."
It's a crazy bet, truly insane, but toying with this girl every time you find yourself at the same table in this place has become something of a secret pleasure. What can she call with only what she has on the table?
"Sir, you can only bet with chips," says the croupier but Yuqi is quick to accept.
"No. It's fine. If he wants to hand me everything he has, I'll call the bet."
"With?" you ask. Yuqi fidgets her necklace between her thumb and index finger and smirks at you.
"I've nothing physical at the table but myself..." Yuqi purses her lips and runs the tip of her tongue along the underside of her teeth. "One night. All night. With me. I'm putting myself on the table."
This girl absolutely refuses to back down and it's going to be her undoing.
"Miss, this is highly irregular—"
"I'll take the bet," you interrupt. "Though I must say, Miss Song, isn't it? Awfully foolish of you to put yourself on the line with a flush."
Yuqi's eyes open wide, her poker face gone completely. Everyone around the table knows you've got her. "How?" Just a single word before she drops her queen and nine of clubs on the table.
"Flush, clubs," the dealer declares.
"Sevens in jacks," you say as you throw them on the table to a gasp from the other players.
The utter despair in Yuqi's eyes gives way to a visceral hatred. Not because she just lost her final hand of the night, but because she put literally everything on the line.
"Full house, sevens in jacks," the dealer confirms before declaring the hand yours.
"I'd like to cash out, take my winnings," you finish that sentence looking across the table at her. She's no longer that dominant temptress who was teasing you with the same smug grin every time you'd come to her table, instead, her bottom lip quivers in anger, and before she has an outburst, she takes her purse and leaves the table.
A clerk arrives to take your signature and sign over your winnings to be paid to your account. As you scrawl your name over a check, the dealer collects up the cards and chips, sets aside your car keys for you, and packs up his shuffling machine.
You excuse yourself and follow Yuqi across the floor. She's headed right for the bar, and when she sits down you catch up and pull a stool out beside her and take a seat.
"That was an awfully bold bet you made back there," you comment.
"No shit," Yuqi replies. "You got lucky."
"You played the river more than I did."
She spins the barstool around to you and props her head up with a loose fist to her face and an elbow on the bar. "A bet's a bet. Tonight, I'm yours. Tell me when."
"I'd like an answer first," you say. "Why do you go through that charade of flustering and provoking the men around the table every night?"
"People make mistakes when they get worked up. Lose themselves in the heat of the moment," Yuqi says, before looking you up and down. "Most of them anyway, and then I get to bleed them dry."
"Overconfident, aren't you?"
"Haven't met anyone yet who could keep pace with me when I decide to go all in."
"Me neither." You give her a mischievous grin. "Not until I met you anyway." Yuqi can't hide the smirk creeping across her face, the momentary glimmer of light in those devilishly deep brown eyes. "Nothing better than getting one over on a woman with a taste for power."
"Careful," she retorts.
"Careful never got me anywhere interesting."
"Where are we going, then?" Yuqi asks, putting her hand on your knee as she leans close enough to kiss you.
"My room, we'll open a bottle of red, something rich and spicy. Just like you," you say, tracing the backs of your fingers along her arm.
"So, how will I suffer this humiliation, sir?" Yuqi asks in a sickly sweet, melodious tone. Her hand shifts higher along the inside of your leg, now on your thigh. "Perhaps by getting on my knees?"
"Wait and see, Miss Song."
~~~
"Biggest win?" you ask. You're both on half-empty, final glasses of that bottle of red, sitting in an armchair by the window of your hotel room, listening to some classical number.
"There was a Chinese businessman. Once he realised I spoke his language and I showed him a nice low neckline in that little black number I wore, he gave up his tell in his first few hands and was out six figures in two hours. Though that was barely a drop in the ocean for him, I suspect," Yuqi replies before downing the remainder of her wine and reaching out for the empty bottle.
"You're the worst," you say, before finishing your own glass.
"I'm not the one going to take advantage of a pretty woman and her overzealous attitude." She laughs. "Looks like we're out of wine."
"You know you're free to leave, right? You could have walked out of this place right after the hand and I wouldn't have chased after you."
"Oh, I know. But I wouldn't have put my body on the line if I wasn't prepared for you to take it."
You set your glass down on the glass-top end table and clasp Yuqi's hand, before placing a soft kiss on the top of her hand. "How about you show me my winnings?" you ask, sending a chill running along her arm as you speak, leaving a wave of goosebumps in its wake.
Yuqi stands from the armchair. She looks down at you and says, "With pleasure."
To the sound of the low melancholy violin, Yuqi sways her hips, the music seemingly coursing through her body and providing a rhythm. You lean back into the seat and relax as Yuqi runs a hand down the side of her neck, skimming over the contours of her collarbone before brushing away a couple of wayward strands of hair. Down her body she goes, over curves, each of them as alluring and attractive as the one that came before it, a smooth gradient of peaks and troughs as she holds your gaze and moves like she was born to draw your eyes.
A long low note rings out and with it, Yuqi bends and turns away, spinning with elegance and presenting you with her ass. Hands on her cheeks and her fingers sunk into flesh, she arches her back and rocks her hips to and fro unmistakably and tantalisingly.
She rights herself and looks at you over her shoulder, biting down on the corner of her lips, then her finger catches on her dress's zip and tugs it lower and lower as the music rises with the crescendo until, like the clash of symbols at its peak, her dress drops to the floor revealing the lingerie she's wearing underneath.
Red lace taut around her body, matching suspenders holding up stockings that she pulls and releases with an audible snap. But it's the sight of the sheer desire in Yuqi's gaze that sets your pulse racing. A slight tilt of her head, her eyelids droop and her eyes take on a seductive shape. There's no doubt you'd agree to anything right now as she closes the distance between the two of you in long, confident strides.
Yuqi braces her knees on either side of you, one and then the next before she lays her body into yours. Her tits press against the front of your shirt while your hands instinctively take the purchase of her ass. The swaying motion she was so captivating in before has her grinding and moving her hips as she hums with the violins, each utterance sending an equally maddening vibrato into you through her whole body.
"And there it goes. All your resistance, every bit of self-control," Yuqi purrs into your ear. "I would own you at the table right now. Drain you for everything you have. Break you under my heel."
"God, you're unbearable," you reply as you snake a hand up her leg, "So arrogant. So insufferable."
"Mmm," Yuqi hums as her head dips down, kissing you on your neck.
"Privileged. Entitled. Exasperating," you groan, forcing yourself to be patient even as Yuqi presses a trail of soft kisses up your jawline.
"Sounds like you want to do something about that," Yuqi breathes hot words into your ear before teasingly biting your earlobe.
You take hold of her, a hand on her ass and one on the small of her back, and climb from the chair with her, quickly depositing her on the bed. The music is still playing in the background, as you step away from her and loosen your tie and pop open a few buttons of your shirt. Her hungry eyes fix on your torso as you throw off your tie and open a few more buttons.
She climbs further onto the bed, crawling backwards, enticing you towards her.
"You're a vain creature, Miss Song," you say before tugging your shirt off and tossing it to the side. You remove the watch you have on, and then your belt as you approach the foot of the bed. "Very vain."
Yuqi continues backwards until she reaches the pillows, her chest heaving with heavy breaths, nipples taut as peaks, dark blush on her cheeks.
"Your ego's going to get the better of you." You slip a finger into the waistband of your trousers and pop the top button. "Over-confidence. Arrogance," you continue while you grab Yuqi's ankle. "Come here."
You pull her back down to the foot of the bed with a hard tug and she squeals with surprise. In a second, she's sat upright and the two of you are locked in a hungry, frenzied kiss, tongues desperately meeting, twisting and chasing. Yuqi pulls down your trousers while you unclasp the back of her bra to free her tits.
"Teach me a lesson," she exhales, breaking away from your kiss and throwing herself back against the sheets. Her hair splays against the silk and she keeps her hands above her head. Those perky little tits rise and fall with each quick, excited breath she takes. She brings a foot up to your chest and runs it down to your hip.
"I know exactly what you need. To be taught what losing control feels like. What it is to have no power or influence, to have it torn away and find yourself at the whims of someone else." You tell her and Yuqi whines at the thought as her toes slide across your leg and brush up against the tent in your boxers.
"You can try but..."
You force Yuqi's leg aside and move up the bed between her thighs, brushing a finger against her panties. Even through the fabric, she's soaked. "Look at that," you tell her. She bites down on her bottom lip and pulls her head back slightly. "It's not about beating you at a game. This isn't a battle of wills," you explain as you rub your thumb over her clit and watch the tension building in her muscles. "This is about your total and utter surrender."
"Do your worst." She tilts her hips forward, dragging her wet panty-clad pussy across your hand, craving even the most paltry pleasure.
"First, rules. Safeword?"
"I don't need one," Yuqi grins.
"Now, you're not allowed to cum until I give you permission."
Yuqi can't help but smirk at your instruction. "Don't flatter yourself. I can and will cum however many times I want, whenever I want."
"We'll see about that." With that, you hitch her panties to the side and drive a couple of fingers right into her. It's obvious she wants to fight you, to counter every single move but your digits are inside her before she has a chance to think, and you just leave them there, let her writhe and squirm and buck her hips, all of it.
"Finger me already," Yuqi demands in a gasp as a trembling shakes her body.
"Ask me nicely. Beg if you have to," you reply, still just staring at her.
Yuqi drops her hand between her legs and moves her fingers into herself in lieu of yours and you swat her away, pulling your hand back and watching the frustration mounting in the creasing around her eyes and the slack in her mouth.
"Tell me, do the men at the tables get a finger fucking too when you beat them?" Yuqi mocks you and then laughs at you and starts to turn over. You stop her with a sharp, open-palmed slap right to her thigh, and that sends Yuqi into silence, and then you pin her wide and spread her.
"Beg."
Yuqi screws her eyes tight and her breathing intensifies. She shakes her head side-to-side, hair plastering itself to her face with sweat, and then you ease a finger inside her. Not roughly. Not carelessly or deliberately but gently and softly. As much to tease her, rather than to satisfy her, and that draws a pleading whine from Yuqi as she arcs her back upwards. With barely a whisper, she says "Please."
A second finger with the first and a firmer movement this time. A precise pumping. In and out. Twists of the wrist to stroke every spot within her, and those noises from her become increasingly indecent. Each second, the flush on her skin intensifies, spreading and rising. She raises a leg into the air, her toes flex and then curls tight. And with every stroke of your hand, her moans raise in pitch.
She puts a hand on her own thigh, then draws her leg against her body, wraps her arms around her own leg and reaches down between them to where your fingers penetrate her. Yuqi gives a muffled shriek as she hooks a finger around the lace band and draws her panties further to the side.
"Harder! Faster," she cries out, but you don't change a thing.
"No," you tell her so calmly as you continue with the same leisurely tempo.
She whimpers in desperation, digging her other hand into the bed sheets and scrunching them in her hand. The faint tremble in her leg becomes a noticeable shake, and her eyes plead to you as she glares, bottom lip hanging loose. Her leg is hoisted ever higher. Tensed and pulled taught. She squeezes tight. Tries to roll her hips into the motions of your hand, anything for any amount more.
She's getting closer, even if you are just walking her to the edge rather than running. Those heart-stopping, brain-shorting-out moments, she's getting near. She starts to let out a long moan, and it's at that point you pull your fingers out of her, slick and dripping.
"No! Fuck, why did you stop?" Yuqi slams both her fists into the bed and lets her leg fall back against the bed. "I was just going to..." Her fingers sink into the sheet, her nails rip, and she struggles to catch her breath, let alone her words. "Put them in, you fuck. Keep going."
"Stop telling me what to do," you snap, grabbing her ankle in a tight grasp. "Or I'll bring you to the edge again and again," you say, tapping your fingers along the length of her leg to punctuate the word as she watches you with an intense and ever more incensed gaze.
You bury your other hand into her this time, another two fingers pushed into her soaked pussy, this time hard and fast like how you think she usually likes it. And just when her voice starts to reach a crescendo and the bliss begins to dawn in her eyes, you stop and just withdraw them again, wiping off your hand in her inner thigh as she bites her own knuckle in a desperate effort.
Yuqi's breasts quickly move with each furious breath. Her body shakes and tenses. A few errant strands of her hair have stuck to the side of her neck. "You're a real asshole," Yuqi says and then she spits out a few curses in a language you don't understand. She reaches for her own cunt, and you grab her by the wrist, force her hand against the bed and stop her once more.
She's blushing now. Violently, thoroughly, absolutely blushing. The look she's giving you is venomous, her pupils have narrowed to tiny dots. But now she's getting the picture.
"How would you like it?" Yuqi asks in a mocking, sarcastic tone. "If I left you out to dry as you start to get close."
"I wouldn't. That's the point," you grunt as you turn her over, putting her face down into the sheets and sitting on the back of her legs. Your cock grinds right against the cleft of her ass as you slip your hands underneath her, reaching up beneath her belly, up her stomach, and finding her breasts to squeeze and pinch her nipples until Yuqi cries out again.
Yuqi humps the bedsheets, bucks her ass against you in an attempt to draw you in, and you're almost tempted. Fuck her hard and rough, tear her to pieces as you pound her from behind. Tempting, but...
"You're an asshole!" she shouts into the bed, and your response is to slap her tight ass hard enough for the loud clap of flesh on flesh to drown out her expletives for a moment. Then you stand and lean over her, first, you plant a kiss on the spot you spanked, before you run the flat of your tongue over her skin, slowly lapping across to the dimple of her spine as she cranes her neck to look at what's happening. "Fuck, okay, just finger me. Please."
"Asked so politely," you whisper to Yuqi as you smile, your breath kisses her ass. "That's more like it," you add, taking her underwear and peeling it away from her, pulling them along the length of her legs to drop them off to the side.
Spread wide open for you, sopping wet, flushed pink, twitching as she struggles to cope with her state of absolute need. You enter her again, three stretching fingers, curling inside her. The room is filled with her sobbing groans as you lick up her thigh, savouring her body's taste. She grows ever more tense as you pump harder and harder into her pussy.
She arches into the bed, presenting that cute ass to you. What a snack. Burying your head between her cheeks, the first taste is just divine. Just the briefest flicker and press of your tongue on her asshole has Yuqi pushing back against you. More, it tells you. "Oh god!" she breathes, you flick across her with the tip of your tongue and Yuqi grips tighter with the sheets in both hands, panting and moaning without any words to offer you.
You deny her again. For the third time. Slipping out of her cunt but continuing to tease her ass with the occasional dart of the tongue. Yuqi twists on the bed, struggling under you with tears in her eyes as a roar rips from her throat. "You think this is funny!?" she snarls, teeth clenched, reddened eyes glaring.
"Does it amuse me to have an otherwise smug, beautiful woman beneath me desperate for release? Why yes, it does." You smile at her, keeping a hand pressed to the small of her back to keep her in place while she seethes with impotence. "But you could have ended this at any time."
You lay another stinging, slapping blow against her ass, this time as she bucks her body in a violent shock, you delve your three fingers in deep and work her again. You don't go slow either, and it's in the span of a few heartbeats that her body locks tight. You stop again and she screams out, fingers clawed into the bed, eyes wide and open-mouthed, throat convulsing as she wails.
"All you have to do is break down, beg me to let you cum. I don't think it's difficult." You drive into her again. Hard. Deep. Your free hand slaps a palm down on her ass while the fingers of the other force their way back and forth, hard enough her muscles are shaking to your touch.
She's so close. Her tongue is just lolled out. She's drooling against the sheets and wracked with pleasured agony as you stare at her face, wanting to hear those words, ready to finally put this woman out of her misery. So you pull out of her again, and she almost sobs. You take her by the hips and turn her back over. You dive in with your lips to her nipples, and she can't stop herself from moaning, holding you close.
Yuqi tries to hook her hands between her thighs, but you won't let her, grasping her wrists as she whines and weeps from the lack of your touch.
"Now beg, Yuqi," you purr the words, making them a sing-song melody. "Tell me you want me, want my fingers."
"Fuck me, fuck," Yuqi says. You watch her eyes screw shut again, and her back arch, trying to rub her cunt on the bedsheets or something, and it takes everything to deny her still.
You gently kiss along the curve of her tits. Yuqi bites down hard on her lip and shivers in anticipation.
"Want to cum."
You just run your thumb across her cheek. Kiss her nose then her forehead. Watch the frustrated anguish of a girl so thoroughly undone in such a short time. It must hurt not getting to finish. The want is burning and tearing through her. You lean over Yuqi, grinding your bare cock against her wet slit. "Yeah? Want to cum? Beg for it. Or I'll edge you until the sun comes up."
"I— I," she gasps, unable to believe what you just threatened her with. Yuqi catches her bottom lip in a bite, letting it go with a huff before looking back up at you with desperation and pure, total surrender. "Please. Please let me cum. Please just fuck me. Oh please."
"Wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Please."
Her begging makes your cock ache. With her completely at your mercy, there's little else to do besides the most satisfying act imaginable. You slide inside Yuqi until her back arches and her breathing turns ragged as she loses control. It's so easy, she's just so fucking wet that it slips right in.
"Please," Yuqi begs once again. "Mhmm."
Those gasps and whimpers turn to breathy sighs of pleasure as you begin moving. Thrust after thrust, each one getting quicker, your whole body tense and burning, slamming inside her. You're merciless. Your palms dig into her thighs and draw her legs wider as she turns into jelly, melting into the bed.
Yuqi's entire body is shaking, and each time you hit the deepest and most sensitive points, her muscles tremble. "Yes! Don't stop. Please don't stop!" she gasps, the words quickened into a senseless babble. "Oh god, I can't. Too good. I'm going to—!"
"No," you command her. "Not until I say so."
She starts shaking her head wildly, tossing her hair all over the place, hands clawing into the sheets as her cunt squeezes even tighter around your cock. You slow your movements and lean in to kiss her body, trailing kisses across her while she whines in frustration, "Why!? Why can't you just let me cum?"
You wrap an arm underneath her, and roll onto your side, holding her as your little spoon. You take hold of her leg and hold it in the air, and then bury it in her but not moving. "Because," you whisper into her ear. "I want to teach you a lesson."
"Please, I give in, okay, I submit." The word makes you push harder back into her, burying every inch and grinding it deeper still as her mouth hangs open and a trembling moan escapes from deep within her chest. Yuqi rolls her head back into you, eyes staring upward, face flush and sweat glistening on her forehead. You start moving again.
Yuqi whines as your hand drops to her clit, toying and teasing as the pad of your index finger makes her body come alight. Her back presses tight to your chest, each subtle movement is met with a change in the pitch of her breathing and every hard, forceful one makes her eyes clamp shut and forces her teeth down on her bottom lip. She's so helplessly yours, the rush is like ecstasy, nothing else can compare.
You use her, pumping inside her until you're as hard and needy for release as she is, and when she asks once more to climax, you deny her again. She reaches back and pulls at your thigh, desperate for you to fuck her, to drive it inside and bring her what she needs, but each time you move, you come as close to stopping as you do to actually finish. You toy and play with her, back and forth from the edge for you both.
The tiniest shift. The slightest motion and she whimpers to the heavens. Asking. Begging for forgiveness and release. There is no pride or hubris any longer. Yuqi is a slave to her own desires.
You're climbing over her now, pinning her on her back, with her hands above her head, her thighs hooked up over your arms and her feet suspended in the air as she squirms and groans with ecstasy.
"Please. Yes, like that," she pleads, crying, unable to hold back, tears leaking from her eyes, unable to cope any longer with the strain and the pleasure that she's denied.
Her tightness is like a vice around your cock, and finally, the pressure starts to overwhelm you. All her little whimpers, the way she moves her body, the way her chest heaves with breath, the desperate begging and the look in her eyes is too much.
"You're going to cum for me now, Yuqi."
"Fuck yes, make me. Oh please," Yuqi pleads.
It's over. Your tempo is harsh, and hard. Unrelenting as Yuqi can do nothing, a helpless mess, the two of you locked together and grunting and moaning, bodies lost in the pure heat and lust between the two of you.
And as her pussy convulses around you and her body snaps tight, she moans out, "Yes! Thank you. Fuck! Faster. Yes! Yes. Yes, please!"
She's gone utterly limp beneath you, lost in the throes of her climax, back arching and limbs seizing in spasms, muscles trembling violently, body consumed. The climax overtakes Yuqi. This orgasm shatters her in a way she's probably never experienced. She can't do anything to help as her voice dissolves into mindless animalistic sounds and a torrent of cum surges from inside her and out across your shaft.
But you carry on, drilling into her, forcing her body into absolute rapture. Over and over her body locks up in release, wave after wave and your stamina runs dry, and with a few last driving pushes into her body, you surrender to the reality that you need to cum too. On her face. On her body. Anywhere. So you pull out and Yuqi twitches uncontrollably on the bed and looks utterly debauched, not even fully aware that you're climbing over her, straddling her slender body. She realises once you take a handful of her hair and force her to meet your gaze.
"Do it. Yes, please," Yuqi says as a dazed but delighted smile spreads across her lips.
You jerk yourself at her her pretty, sweaty face and she keeps those deep brown eyes open. Your balls clench, and every muscle in your abdomen seizes. And with a final grunt, you explode over her features. Painting her soft face as she just beams back at you, almost entirely lost to the dopamine rushing around her head. Yuqi makes a show of opening her mouth, licking her lips, and sticking out her tongue as you deposit your thick cum right onto her.
"Ah! Give it all," Yuqi moans, rolling her tongue around her lips to collect all she can.
"Clean me up," you ask of Yuqi as you softly pet her cheek. She nods and wraps a hand around the back of your cock, holding tight as she raises her head off the bed and slips your spent dick between her lips. "You're so much more bearable like this," you purr as she slides up and down, tongue pressed firm and moving so very slowly. She pulls off of your cock and just smiles back up, kissing the very tip.
"God, I hate you," she says, throwing her head back on the bed in exasperation and making a half-hearted attempt at wiping away the seed you splattered over her. "Next time, we'll be playing with my rules."
"You will have to win first," you smirk, laying down beside her and placing an arm over her midriff.
"Can't wait to take all your money and your dignity," she whispers.
You've heard about Hirai Momo before you ever meet her. Everybody has. She's the girl who allegedly crashed the campus WiFi because too many guys were looking her up at the same time. The girl who got asked out fourteen times during freshman orientation. The girl whose communications professor once stopped mid-lecture because she walked in late and he lost his train of thought.
She's also the girl who's failing three out of five classes and needs a tutor.
That's you. Wednesday afternoons, fifty bucks an hour, private study room in the library basement. You need the money. She needs a miracle.
You're about to need one too.
• • •
The clock on the wall reads 4:22 PM. Twenty-two minutes past the agreed time. You've reorganized the flashcards twice, reread the chapter summaries you typed up last night at one in the morning, and now you're just sitting here, staring at the study room, waiting for her.
You need this gig. Fifty bucks an hour to teach rich kids things they'll immediately forget. It pays for your half of rent, your ramen budget, and occasionally a beer that you drink alone while rereading Freud. You're living the dream.
The door swings open at 4:23. Hirai Momo walks in like she's arriving at a party instead of an academic intervention. She's got her hair down today, long and dark and shiny. Her skin has this warm golden glow to it, probably because she’s out in the open more than she is stuck in air-conditioned study rooms. Large brown eyes spaced just enough to give her that harmless, slightly airheaded innocence. Full lips glossed in something pink and slightly sticky-looking.
And then there's... the rest of her. Momo is built like every heterosexual man's fever dream compressed into five-foot-four of absolute structural devastation. She's wearing a cropped white top that sits tight across her chest - and her chest is, to use a clinical term, ridiculous. The fabric stretches across her breasts, and printed right there, right across the fullest part where your eyes absolutely should not be lingering, is the word THICC in sparkly pink letters. Like a label. Like a declaration. Like a challenge from God to test your professionalism.
Below that, a pleated miniskirt that looks more like a belt. Her thighs are thick and toned (she dances. You’ve definitely come across some of her TikToks, and don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Blame the algorithm), and she's wearing white sneakers with little platform soles that make her legs look even longer than they already do.
She drops her bag on the table with a thud and collapses into the chair across from you.
"Sorry I'm late," she chirps. "I was getting boba and the line was so long. Oh my God, you should've seen it."
"Fascinating." You slide the stack of flashcards toward her. "Chapter seven. Behavioral conditioning. We talked about this last week."
"Right. Yeah. Totally." She picks one up, squints at it, then puts it back down. "I remember. It's the thing with the dogs."
"Pavlov. Yes."
"Love that for him."
This is your life. You went through three years of a psychology program to sit in a windowless study room explaining Pavlov to a girl who once asked you if Sigmund Freud was "that guy from the Avengers."
(He is not. You checked, just to be sure, because Momo has a way of making you doubt your own reality.)
"Okay," you push on, pointing to the first section in the textbook. "So classical conditioning. The basic framework is stimulus, response, reinforcement. You need to understand the difference between positive and negative reinforcement for the exam."
Momo nods along. Her eyes are pointed at the book. Her pen is in her hand. For about forty-five seconds, you almost believe she's paying attention.
Then you notice she's drawing little hearts in the margin of her notebook. Pink ink. Tiny, loopy hearts with even tinier smiley faces inside them.
"Momo."
"Hm?"
"The book is here." You tap the page. "The hearts can wait."
"Sorry! I'm listening, I swear." She straightens up, tucks her hair behind one ear. Her earring catches the fluorescent light and you notice it's shaped like a peach. You're not surprised. "Okay, so. Positive reinforcement is like... when you give someone a treat for being good?"
"Broadly, yes."
"And negative is when you punish them?"
"No. That's punishment. Negative reinforcement is the removal of an aversive stimulus to increase behavior."
She stares at you blankly for a solid four seconds. "Say that again but in human."
You take a slow breath. "If you have a headache and you take an aspirin and the headache goes away, you're more likely to take aspirin next time. The removal of the pain reinforces the behavior."
"Oh! That makes sense." She beams like you've just unlocked the secrets of the universe for her. Then she looks down at her notebook, writes something, and turns it toward you. She's written: asprin = no more ouchie = do it again.
It's misspelled. The i in aspirin is missing. But the concept is correct, and despite everything, you feel a flicker of something that might be professional satisfaction.
"Good enough," you concede.
"Yay!" She claps her hands together. Her chest bounces with the motion and you look at the ceiling like there's something extremely important up there.
You keep going, working through the chapter section by section. Momo's attention span lasts about three to four minutes at a stretch before she starts fidgeting, playing with her hair, checking her phone under the table (she thinks you can't tell, but you can), or asking questions that have nothing to do with the material.
"Do you think pigeons have feelings?"
"Momo, we're talking about operant conditioning."
"Yeah, but Skinner used pigeons, right? That's sad. What if the pigeons didn't want to be in the experiment?"
"The pigeons didn't file a complaint."
"Maybe they couldn't. Maybe that's the real tragedy."
You are so tired.
After another ten minutes of this, Momo lets out a long, dramatic sigh. She pushes the textbook away from her and drops her pen. Leans back in her chair and stares at you with those big, ridiculous eyes.
"I'm not doing this," she declares, gesturing at the carefully organized spread of materials in front of her. The flashcards, the chapter summaries, the color-coded study guide you spent two hours on. "Can't you just, like, write my paper for me?"
"That's not what tutoring is, Momo."
"But it could be."
"It literally cannot."
"You're really smart, though. You could write it in like an hour, probably. And it would be good. I've seen your notes. They're, like, annoyingly organized."
You set your pen down with the slow, measured patience of a man who has considered several career changes in the last hour alone. "Momo. The whole point of me being here is to help you learn the material yourself. That's what your parents are paying for. I'm supposed to guide you through the concepts so that you can—"
"What if I let you fuck me?"
"What?"
"Like, I'll have sex with you if you do my homework." She leans forward, chin in her hands, elbows on the table. The motion pushes her breasts together and the word THICC warps slightly across the compressed fabric. "That's fair, right?"
You choke. Literally choke. There is no liquid in your mouth and you still manage to choke on nothing but oxygen and sheer disbelief. Your face goes hot, a full-body flush that starts at your neck and crawls up to your ears.
"That's— you can't just— Momo, that is not—" You're gesturing with both hands. You don't know what the gestures mean. Neither does she.
"What?" She blinks, tilting her head to one side. Her hair falls over her shoulder and she looks at you with total, unbothered confusion. "Is that a no?"
"It's a— I'm your tutor. There's a professional— there are boundaries, and ethical considerations, and—"
"Are you gay?"
"WHAT?"
"It's totally cool if you are!" She holds her hands up, palms out. "My friend Sana is gay. Well, she says she's 'exploring,' but she literally only talks about this girl Mina, so I think she's figured it out. Anyway, no judgment."
"I'm not gay, Momo!"
"Then what's the problem?" She's not teasing. She's not playing coy. She genuinely, truly, fundamentally does not understand why you're sitting here looking like you've been electrocuted. "This is how I've gotten through school. Guys do stuff for me and I do stuff for them. It's, like, an exchange. I need passing grades. You probably need... I don't know, what do you need?"
"Therapy, apparently."
"Is that expensive? Because I could also pay you, but I already spent my allowance on boba and these earrings." She flicks the peach-shaped earring. "They were on sale, though."
You sit there for a long, long moment. Somewhere in the library, someone is printing something. The world continues to function normally while yours tilts on its axis.
She watches you, patient and curious. Her lips are slightly parted, the gloss catching the light. Her legs are crossed under the table and one sneaker bobs up and down rhythmically. She doesn't look seductive on purpose. That's the worst part. She's just sitting there, being Momo, and it's devastating in a way that intentional seduction could never be.
"This is..." You rub your hands over your face. "This is really how you've been passing your classes?"
"I mean, some guys just wanted nudes. Which is way easier, honestly. But yeah." She shrugs, one shoulder lifting and dropping. "Everybody wins."
Nobody wins, you think. That's not what winning looks like. But you don't say that because you're too busy losing an argument with your own conscience.
"I can't."
"You keep saying that but you also keep looking at my boobs, so."
(Yeah. She's not wrong.)
"Momo, if anyone found out—"
"Who's gonna find out? I'm not gonna tell anyone." She rolls her eyes. "I'm not stupid."
(Debatable, but you keep that thought internal.)
She leans forward again, and the smell of her hits you. Sweet, peach and warmth. Her eyes are steady on yours and for the first time today, she looks completely focused.
"Look. You write my papers. I come over, we hook up, everyone's happy. I get to stay enrolled, you get to..." She gestures at you, all of you, with one hand. "Have fun. You look like you haven't had fun in, like, years. No offense."
"Some taken."
"I'm just being honest." She taps her pen against her lower lip. "So? Deal?"
The smart thing to do is say no. The right thing to do is say no. The professional, ethical, morally responsible thing to do is to stand up, pack your bag, and report this conversation to the tutoring center coordinator.
You look at Momo. She tilts her head, that little confused-puppy tilt that she does. The light catches her cheekbone. The word THICC glitters on her chest.
"Not in the library," you murmur.
She blinks. Then her face breaks into a grin so wide and bright it actually hurts to look at. "Wait, really? Oh my God, yay!"
"Do not 'yay' this. This is not a 'yay' situation."
"It's totally a yay situation." She's already pulling out her phone, typing something. "Okay so when do you want to— oh wait, should I shave first? Some guys are weird about that."
"Momo. Please stop talking."
"Right. Okay. So mysterious." She mimes zipping her lips, then immediately unzips them. "But seriously, when? Because I have a paper due Thursday."
You start packing up the textbooks. The flashcards you spent an hour making. The color-coded study guide that no one will ever use. "I'll text you," you mutter.
"Cool." She stands up, slings her bag over one shoulder. Pauses at the door, looks back at you with those enormous brown eyes, and hits you with a smile that has probably ended lesser men. "Thanks. You're, like, really nice. Most tutors are super boring."
She leaves. The door clicks shut behind her. The room keeps the scent of peach and bad decisions. You sit there for a full minute, staring at the wall. Then you pull out your phone and open the campus job board, just to see what else is available. Data entry. Cafeteria dishwasher. Overnight security at the rec center.
None of them pay fifty an hour. None of them come with a Hirai Momo attached.
You close the app, grab your bag, and walk out into the sad afternoon light, already hating yourself a little. Your phone buzzes before you reach the parking lot:
hiii its momo!! 🍑 ur place thursday?? ill bring snackssss
You stare at the screen. Three S's. A peach emoji. This is your life now.
You type back: Thursday works. And it's "you're," not "ur."
lol ok nerd 😘
You pocket your phone, adjust your bag on your shoulder, and keep walking.
• • •
You finish writing the last line of Momo's media ethics essay. Two thousand words on the moral responsibilities of mass communication in the digital age. You reread the thesis statement, check the citations, adjust a comma. It's solid B+ work - good enough to pass, not so good that anyone would suspect she didn't write it.
Media ethics. You just wrote a paper about media ethics so you could get laid. The irony doesn't just burn. It cremates.
You save the file, close your laptop, and look around your apartment.
It's bad. Not dirty, exactly, but aggressively neglected. The couch has a dent in the shape of your body. There's a coffee mug on the counter from two days ago with a brown ring at the bottom. Your bookshelf is the only thing that looks maintained - alphabetized, organized by subject - and you realize that says something about you that you'd rather not examine.
You spend the next forty minutes doing a speed-clean that borders on psychotic. Dishes in the dishwasher. Counters wiped. Bathroom scrubbed with a focus on the toilet and sink because you have priorities, if questionable ones. You change your sheets (when did you last change your sheets? don't answer that), shove the pile of laundry into the closet, and light a candle that you bought six months ago and never used. It smells like "coastal breeze," which smells like nothing found in nature.
The knock comes at 6:14. You open the door and there she is: hair pulled into a high ponytail, hoop earrings, a tight pink top that and denim shorts that could double as underwear. She's holding a paper bag.
"Hi! I brought snacks." She lifts the bag. "Gummy bears, Hot Cheetos, and those chocolate things that look like mushrooms? I forget what they're called."
"Chocorooms."
"Yes! Those." She walks in past you and looks around your apartment the way someone looks at a museum exhibit they don't understand. Her eyes move from the bare walls to the second-hand couch to the single lamp on the floor that you never bought a table for. "This is where you live?"
"Last time I checked."
"It's so..." She searches for the word. "Empty. Do you not have, like, stuff?"
"I have stuff. I have books."
"Books aren't stuff. Books are the worst invention of mankind." She sets the snack bag on the counter, then turns to you with her hands on her hips. "Where are your posters? Your plants? A rug, at least?"
“I don't need a rug.”
She shakes her head with the genuine pity of someone whose parents probably furnished her apartment with a decorator. "We need to get you things. This is sad."
"I appreciate your concern for my interior design."
"You're welcome!"
(She missed the sarcasm. She always misses the sarcasm.)
There's a beat of silence where the reality of why she's here settles between you. Momo, apparently operating on a script she's run before, reaches down and grabs the hem of her top and starts pulling it up over her stomach, over her ribs, the fabric catching on the swell of her chest before she tugs it higher - and you see her bra, pale pink with a tiny bow between the cups, her breasts pushed up and pressed together, full and round and straining against the lace.
"Whoa, wait." You step forward and catch her hands, stopping the shirt halfway over her head. She's standing in your living room with her arms up and her stomach bare, looking at you through a gap in the bunched fabric.
"What? Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Yes, but—" You pull her shirt back down for her, smoothing it over her waist and feeling like a complete idiot for stopping the hottest girl on campus from undressing in your apartment. "Can we at least pretend this isn't a business transaction?"
She blinks. Drops her arms. Tilts her head with that look she gets when you use words with more than three syllables. "Okay? How do we do that?"
"I don't know. Normal things. I'll get you a drink. We'll talk. Like humans."
"We are humans."
"I'm aware. Thank you."
You open the fridge. The options are water, orange juice that might be expired, and a six-pack of cheap beer. She picks the orange juice. You pour it into the one clean glass you have and hand it to her. She takes a sip and doesn't comment on the taste, which either means it's fine or her palate is as undiscriminating as her academic standards.
You grab a beer for yourself. Take a long pull. Momo leans against the counter, ankles crossed, sipping juice and watching you.
"So," she starts. "Do we, like, talk about our feelings now? Is that the pretending part?"
"It's not pretending if it's real conversation, Momo."
"Okay." She nods seriously. "Um. I feel like gummy bears. Can I open the gummy bears?"
Close enough.
She eats gummy bears on your couch while telling you about her dance practice and a girl in her class who keeps copying her outfits. You sit next to her, nursing your beer, half-listening and half-watching the way she talks with her hands, the way she tucks her feet under herself, the way she licks sugar off her fingers without any awareness of what that looks like.
This entire situation is a textbook case of operant conditioning (there it is, the irony again) combined with what any psych professor would call instrumentalized intimacy. Momo has been taught, through years of reinforcement, that her body is currency. That sex is a transaction. That her value to other people is directly proportional to what she's willing to do with her clothes off. It's a conditioned behavioral pattern rooted in objectification, and she doesn't even see it because it's been normalized for her entire adult life.
She's eating gummy bears and talking about dance practice and she has no idea that she's a case study.
"You're staring at me," she observes.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I'm hot." She grins. "Are you ready, or do we need more pretending?"
"It's not—" You exhale. "Yeah. Okay."
You stand up. She stands up. You lead her down the short hallway to your bedroom and push the door open. Momo walks in and does a slow rotation, taking in the full-size bed with its freshly changed sheets, the desk buried in textbooks, the single framed photo of a mountain you bought at a thrift store because the wall felt too bare.
"You literally live like a monk," she announces.
"Monks take vows of celibacy, so not for long."
"What's celibacy?"
"Not having sex."
"Oh." A pause. "That sounds terrible."
She sits on the edge of your bed, bouncing once to test the mattress, and looks up at you. The light from the window catches her face, the slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips, those wide dark eyes. She's waiting for you. Patient. Practiced. Ready to go through the motions she's gone through with however many guys came before you.
And it makes you irrationally angry.
You sit next to her. Cup her face with one hand, thumb resting against her cheekbone. She blinks, not used to this part. You can tell.
"What are you doing?" she murmurs.
"Being a human."
You kiss her. Slow. Not the let's-get-this-over-with kind she's probably expecting. You take your time with it, learning the shape of her mouth, the softness of her lower lip. She tenses for a second, then melts into it, her hand coming up to rest on your chest. She tastes like orange juice and gummy bears.
When you pull back, her eyes are a little glazed. "Oh," she breathes. "You're, like, a good kisser."
"Thanks."
"Most guys just shove their tongue in. Like a washing machine."
"That's the least sexy comparison anyone has ever made."
"I'm just saying!" She laughs.
You kiss her again. Your hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers threading into the base of her ponytail. She hums against your mouth and shifts, and then she's climbing into your lap, her thighs bracketing your hips, her weight settling onto you. The denim of her shorts is rough against your legs. Her arms loop around your neck.
She's so warm. Her body is pressed against yours and you can feel every curve, every inch of her. Your hands find her waist, grip the swell of her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just above the waistband of her shorts.
"Can I take this off now?" She tugs at her own shirt, grinning. "Or do you want to do more pretending first?"
"Go ahead."
She pulls the top over her head in one motion and drops it on the floor. The pink bra again, pale lace barely containing her. Her breasts are full and heavy, pushed up by the cups, skin golden-warm in the late afternoon light. Her stomach is toned (the dancing, you remind yourself), defined lines of muscle running beneath smooth skin, and there, right at her navel, a small silver barbell glints. A belly button piercing. Of course.
"Your turn," she says, plucking at the front of your t-shirt.
You pull it off. She looks at your chest with an appraising tilt of her head.
"Not bad. You should work out more, though."
"Thank you for the unsolicited feedback."
"You're welcome!" (Again. Sarcasm-proof.)
You unclip her bra. She shrugs it off her shoulders and lets it fall, and the full weight of her breasts settles free, round and heavy, dark nipples already stiff from the friction of the fabric. They're perfect. Not the word you'd normally use, because nothing's perfect and you're a realist, but - they're perfect. Big and soft and real and right there.
She catches you staring. "You can touch them. That's, like, allowed."
"I know it's allowed. I'm appreciating the view."
"Weirdo."
You lay her down on the bed. She goes easily, hair fanning across your pillow, ponytail loose and coming undone. You unbutton her shorts, peel them down over the thick curve of her hips, her thighs - God, her thighs, full and firm, the kind that press together even when she's lying flat. Her ass lifts off the mattress to help you slide the denim free. Pink underwear underneath (she has a theme, apparently), stretched tight across the wide round swell of her butt.
You pull those down too. She kicks them off one ankle without ceremony.
And there she is. Hirai Momo. Fully naked on your bed, in your sad monk apartment, looking at you with those beautiful, deceptively innocent brown eyes. Her body laid out in front of you is almost absurd: the heavy breasts, the toned stomach with its silver piercing catching light, the flare of her hips into those thick thighs, the neat strip of dark hair between her legs.
(Any qualified psychologist would diagnose you with acute cognitive dissonance right now. Your brain is simultaneously screaming that this is ethically catastrophic and that she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. Both are true.)
You take off your jeans, leaving just your boxers. She tracks your movement with lazy, half-lidded eyes.
"Aren't you going to take those off too?"
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because I'm doing something else first."
You settle onto the bed, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Then lower. The slope of her breast. The flat plane of her stomach. The warm skin beside her navel, the cool metal of the piercing against your lip. Her muscles twitch under your mouth.
"What are you—" She props up on her elbows, watching you move down her body. "Wait. Are you going to...?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." She sounds genuinely surprised. "Most guys don't do that."
"Most guys are selfish."
"I thought that was just, like, a thing. That guys don't."
"It's not a thing." You settle between her thighs, hands on her knees, gently pressing them apart. Her legs fall open, and the sight of her, all of her, laid out beneath you, bare and exposed and looking at you with those big confused eyes - it makes your body respond before you can think. "It's just laziness."
"Huh," she manages, right before your mouth finds her.
Your lips press against her and the first thing you register is warmth. Wet, slick warmth, her body already responding before you've done anything intentional. You start slow because there's no reason not to, because she's not going anywhere, because you want to learn her before you take her apart.
Your tongue drags flat and wide from the bottom of her slit all the way up, one long exploratory stroke that makes her thighs twitch against the sides of your head. She tastes clean, faintly sweet, the salt of skin underneath. You do it again, just as slow, just as calculated. Getting the lay of the land.
You settle in, hands curled around the tops of her thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft creases where her legs meet her hips. The skin there is impossibly smooth. You keep your pace unhurried - long, flat strokes with the full width of your tongue, covering everything, mapping the terrain without zeroing in on anything specific yet. Her outer lips are swollen and slick, parting easily under the pressure of your mouth. You trace along the edges, slow and methodical, learning the shape of her.
Her breathing picks up. One of her hands finds the top of your head, fingers resting lightly in your hair. You drag your tongue along the left side of her slit, then the right, calculated strokes that go everywhere except where she probably wants you. Teasing, but not cruelly. Building something. Her clit is swollen and visible, peeking out from its hood, and you can feel the tension in her thighs every time your tongue passes close without making contact.
"You're really taking your time," she observes, impressed and impatient.
You pull back just enough to answer, lips brushing against her when you talk. "Is that a complaint?"
"No! No, it's just... different."
Different from what, you don't ask. You already know the answer and it would make you angry, so you let it go and press your mouth back to her. This time you use the tip of your tongue. Pointed, precise, tracing the delicate folds of her inner lips. She's pink and glistening, every ridge and contour distinct against your tongue. You follow the natural lines of her body, dragging upward along the left side, circling wide around her clit without touching it, then trailing back down the right. A loop. Patient. Thorough.
Momo's abs flex. You can feel the muscles tighten under the hand you've rested on her lower stomach, the little silver barbell of her piercing cool against your wrist. Her hips roll once, a small involuntary grind, and you press them back down gently with both hands.
"Stay still."
"I'm trying." Her fingers tighten in your hair. "It's hard when you're doing... that."
You reward her with the first direct contact. Your tongue finds her clit with a soft, barely-there flick. Just the tip. Just once. Her whole body jolts and a sharp breath punches out of her.
"Oh. Okay. That."
You do it again. Another light flick, this time with a little more pressure, and her thigh presses against the side of your head. You flatten your tongue and cover her clit completely, holding there for a beat, letting her feel the warm, wet pressure without movement. Then you pulse - a gentle rocking of your tongue that pushes against her in slow, rhythmic waves.
"How are you so good at this?" Momo props herself up on one elbow, looking down at you with bewilderment on her face. Her cheeks are flushed, ponytail completely wrecked, dark hair sticking to the side of her neck. "I literally thought you were a virgin."
You stop. Look up at her from between her thighs. "You thought I was a virgin."
"Yeah! You're all, like, books and flashcards and boring apartment. I figured you hadn't... you know. Done stuff."
"I've had a girlfriend, Momo."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, really? What happened?"
"We broke up."
"Well yeah, obviously, but like—" She seems to catch herself, registering the context of this conversation. She's naked on your bed. Your face is between her legs. And she's asking about your ex. "Sorry, that's probably not the right time."
"Probably not."
"But whoever she was?" Momo drops back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling. "Lucky girl. If you ate her pussy like this every time? God."
"Can you stop talking about my ex while I'm going down on you?"
"Right. Yeah. Sorry. Continue."
She waves her hand in a little "carry on" gesture, and despite the absurdity of this arrangement, this girl, this entire situation, something at the corner of your mouth twitches. You lower your head and seal your lips around her clit, sucking gently. Momo's hand slams flat against the mattress.
"Fuck."
The reaction tells you everything you need to know. You increase the suction slightly, pulling her clit into your mouth with a soft, steady pressure, your tongue working against the underside in slow circles. Her hips try to buck upward but your hands are firm on her thighs, holding her in place, keeping her pinned while you work.
She's wet. Obscenely so. You can feel it on your chin, on your lips, the slickness spreading every time you adjust your angle. Her inner thighs are damp against your cheeks. Every time you pull your mouth away to breathe, you can see the shine on her pussy, swollen and flushed dark pink, her clit exposed and throbbing.
You alternate. Suck her clit for a ten count, then release, then trace around it with your tongue in wide lazy circles. Suck again, a little harder, hold it longer. Release, press flat, pulse. She's starting to figure out the pattern (or rather, her body is) and you can feel her tensing in anticipation each time you close your lips around her.
"That— right there." Both hands are in your hair now, not pushing, but holding on. "Don't stop doing that."
You keep the suction steady, tongue curling against her clit in a rhythm you've settled into - slow, conscious, consistent. Her thighs are trembling. Not the full-body shaking of an imminent orgasm, but the low-frequency tremor of sustained stimulation. She's building, and you can read it in every twitch and flex of her body.
(This is the operant conditioning she never paid attention to in class. Stimulus, response, reinforcement. You're reinforcing every sound she makes, every shift of her hips, by repeating whatever just caused it. Pavlov would be proud. Or horrified. Who knows.)
You pull off her clit and drag your tongue down, pushing into her opening. She clenches around you immediately, hot and tight, her inner walls pulsing against the intrusion. You fuck her with your tongue, slow shallow thrusts, and she whines, high and thin, and grinds down against your mouth.
"Nobody does this," she pants. "I'm— this is— nobody takes this long."
"Their loss," you murmur against her, and the vibration of your speech makes her gasp.
You push deeper, as far as your tongue will reach, and curl upward. Her hips jerk hard enough that you have to brace your forearm across her lower belly to keep her down. You can taste her fully now, that salt-sweet tang, and the way she's gripping your hair tells you she's not thinking about assignments or transactions or any of the bullshit that brought her to your bed. She's just here. Just feeling.
You return to her clit. She's so swollen now that you barely have to search. The bud is prominent and hard, a tight knot of nerve endings begging for contact. You cover it with your mouth, suck firmly, and flick the tip of your tongue across it in quick, rhythmic strokes. Fast enough to build, slow enough to sustain.
"Oh God." Her back arches off the mattress. "Oh my God, that feels so good."
Her thighs clamp against your ears. You can barely hear anything except the rush of your own blood and the muffled, distant sound of her breathing going ragged. You don't slow down. Don't change technique. You've found what works and you commit to it. Momo is unraveling above you. Her stomach is heaving. Her hands alternate between gripping your hair and fisting the sheets. Her head is thrown back, throat exposed, tendons standing out in her neck. Every few seconds her hips stutter against your mouth, trying to grind, trying to get more friction, and every time you hold her down and give her exactly what you're already giving her. Consistent. Relentless. Patient.
"I'm..." She swallows hard. "I'm getting close. I think. I don't—" A ragged exhale. "I don't usually finish from this."
She doesn't usually finish from this.
Because the guys she's been with didn't care enough to learn what she needed. Because they treated her mouth, her body, her willingness as a service rendered and never thought to return the favor properly.
You press your tongue flat against her clit, applying firm, steady pressure, and suck. Her body goes rigid.
"Don't stop." Her grip in your hair tightens to the point of pain. "Please. Don't stop. Please, please—"
You double down, working her clit with focused, unwavering attention. Tongue circling, lips sealed around her, suction steady. Her thighs are shaking violently now, the thick muscles quivering against your temples. Her abs are clenched so tight you can see every defined line, the piercing catching light with each heaving breath. Her pussy is soaked, dripping onto the sheets beneath her.
You feel the sudden clench of her whole body, every muscle locking at once, her thighs squeezing your head, her fingers yanking your hair. Then her hips buck upward against your mouth, hard, and she comes with a long, shattered moan that fills your sad little bedroom. Her clit pulses against your tongue. You can feel the contractions, rhythmic and strong, her pussy clenching around nothing, her body riding out the peak. You soften your mouth, easing up the pressure but keeping contact, giving her something to grind against as the orgasm rolls through her. Her hips rock in small, helpless circles, abs spasming with each aftershock.
"Oh my God." Her grip loosens in your hair. Her legs fall open, thighs twitching. "Oh my God."
You ease off slowly, pulling back from her oversensitive clit with careful, gentle movements. A few last soft kisses pressed against the crease of her thigh. She's gasping, chest heaving, her eyes are closed and her lips are parted and her entire body has gone boneless against your sheets.
You press one more kiss to the inside of her thigh. Right there, where the skin is softest, where you can feel her pulse hammering against your lips. You let your mouth linger, then lift your head to look at her.
She's a mess. The most gorgeous mess you've ever seen. Flushed from her chest to her cheeks, hair everywhere, a thin sheen of sweat on her stomach making the piercing glitter. Her eyes flutter open, dazed, pupils blown wide.
"You're beautiful when you come," you tell her. Quiet. Simple. Factual.
A change ripples through her gaze. Shock flashes, then hesitation, then a softness she immediately tries to bury. Her lower lip wobbles for a split second. "You're weird," she whispers.
“I thought you’d have something better to say after I made you cum with my mouth.”
Your thumb traces a slow circle on the inside of her thigh, and she shivers beneath your touch. Suddenly she extends her arm and her hand reaches your face. Her fingers trail along your jaw, thumb dragging through the slickness on your chin.
"That was insane," she murmurs. "Like, genuinely insane. No guy has ever made me finish from just... that."
"From oral?"
"Yeah." She says it plainly, without embarrassment. Just a fact. "Usually they go down for like thirty seconds and then give up. Or they're so bad at it I just fake it so they'll stop."
"That's depressing, Momo."
"Is it? I thought it was normal." She shrugs one bare shoulder, then pushes herself up to sitting. Her breasts sway with the movement. "Okay. Your turn."
"My turn?"
"Yeah. Fair's fair." She reaches for the waistband of your boxers, fingertips hooking under the elastic. "Lie down."
There's a part of you (the analytical, overthinking, perpetually exhausted part) that wants to protest, to tell her this doesn't have to be transactional, that she doesn't owe you reciprocity just because you went down on her. But Momo's already tugging at your waistband with a determined little furrow between her brows, and the part of you that's been hard since approximately the moment she walked through your front door tells the analytical part to shut up and lie back.
You lie back.
Momo kneels beside you, ponytail completely destroyed, dark hair falling around her face in messy strands. She pulls your boxers down with both hands, lifting the elastic over you carefully, and slides them down your thighs, your knees, off your ankles. Tosses them somewhere behind her without looking.
Her eyes drop to your cock. Hard, flushed, curving slightly upward against your stomach. She looks at it the way she looks at most things: with open, uncomplicated appraisal. No shyness.
"Nice," she declares.
"Thanks. I grew it myself."
She snorts. "You're so weird." Then she wraps her hand around the base, and the laugh dies in your throat.
Her grip is firm. Confident. She gives you one slow stroke, base to tip, her fingers snug around your shaft, and you feel the calluses on her palm (from dancing, you realize, from gripping bars and catching herself on hardwood floors) and the heat of her skin.
"Okay, get comfy." She's adjusting her position, settling between your legs on her stomach, and the view is— God. Her back curves down from her shoulders to the deep arch of her spine, and her ass rounds upward behind her, full and heavy. Her breasts press flat against the mattress between your thighs. She braces one hand on your hip and holds your cock steady with the other, angling it toward her mouth.
She licks the tip. One quick, testing pass of her tongue across the head, collecting the bead of precum that's gathered there. Then she looks up at you through her lashes, those enormous brown eyes, and takes you into her mouth.
Warm. Wet. insanely soft. Her lips seal around the head and she sucks, gentle at first, her tongue circling the underside of the ridge in slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation shoots straight down through the base of your cock and into the pit of your stomach.
You exhale. Controlled. Measured. Barely.
She takes you deeper. Her lips sliding down your shaft, her mouth stretching around the thickness of you. Her tongue presses flat against the underside, maintaining contact the whole way down, a continuous wet drag that makes your toes curl against the sheets. She gets about two-thirds of the way before pulling back, and the suction on the retreat is perfect - tight, steady, the kind that makes your fingers grip the sheets.
"Good?" she asks, pulling off with a soft, wet, sound, her hand replacing her mouth in slow strokes.
"Yeah." you admit in a whisper. “Yeah, that's good."
She smiles. Pleased with herself in that unselfconscious way she has. Then she dips her head and takes you in again, and this time she doesn't tease.
(This fact about Momo is honestly kind of funny… if not a little sad: she's terrible at academics. She can't spell "necessary." She thinks Freud was in the Avengers. She draws hearts in the margins of textbooks she's never read. But she is, as it turns out, phenomenally, almost aggressively good at giving head.)
Her technique is varied in a way that speaks to experience, but more than that, to genuine attentiveness. She doesn't just bob her head in a steady rhythm and call it a day. She reads your reactions - the hitch in your breathing when she swirls her tongue around the head, the tension in your thigh when she sucks hard on the upstroke, the way your stomach clenches when she takes you deep enough to nudge the back of her throat.
She pulls off, drags her tongue flat up the entire length of your shaft, base to tip, slow and wet. Then back down. Then up again, this time tracing the thick vein on the underside with the pointed tip of her tongue, following it like a road map. Your cock twitches against her lips and she hums, pleased.
"You're sensitive here." She presses the flat of her tongue against the spot just below the head, the frenulum, and holds it there with steady pressure. Your hips jerk. Just barely, just a fraction, but she notices.
"Yep. There it is." She sounds smug. She should be.
Her hand works the base in slow, twisting strokes while her mouth focuses on the upper half. The combination is devastating: the tight ring of her fingers, the wet heat of her tongue, the soft suction of her lips. She finds a rhythm that works, a coordinated push-pull between hand and mouth, and commits to it with the same single-minded focus she brings to dance practice and absolutely nothing academic.
Your hand finds her hair. You gather the messy strands, the ruined ponytail, and hold them back from her face in a loose grip at the crown of her head. She glances up at you.
"Thanks," she says, your cock resting against her lower lip, her breath warm against the wet skin. "I hate when it gets in the way. One time I almost choked because my hair got stuck in my mouth and the guy's—" She catches the look on your face. "Not the right time for that story?"
"Not the right time."
"Got it." She winks, then swallows you down again.
Deeper this time. She relaxes her jaw, opens her throat, and pushes forward until her lips meet her own fist at the base. You feel the head of your cock press against the tight constriction of her throat and the sensation wrings a low groan out of you that you couldn't suppress if you tried. She holds there for a beat, swallows around you (and the pressure of that, the rhythmic squeeze, is enough to make your vision go slightly white at the edges), then pulls back with a gasp.
Spit and precum stretch in a thin line from her lip to the head of your cock. She doesn't wipe it away. She just licks her lips, breathing hard, and goes back in.
"You're really good at this," you manage. The line lands flat, almost accusatory, like you're annoyed about it.
"I know, right?" She grins around you, which is a facial expression that shouldn't be possible with a cock in her mouth, but Momo makes it work. "It's like my one talent."
"You can dance."
"Okay, my two talents." She laps at the head, kitten-quick flicks of her tongue that make your abs clench. "Three if you count being hot."
You feel that twitch at the corner of your mouth again. She's ridiculous. She's absolutely ridiculous and you're lying naked on your bed letting her give you the best head of your life while she counts her talents on a mental list.
She refocuses, and the playfulness drops away. Her brow furrows slightly. She takes you in her mouth again, working a steady rhythm now, and her free hand drops to cup your balls, rolling them gently in her palm, fingers careful and warm. The dual sensation of her mouth sliding wet and tight along your shaft and her hand kneading the sensitive skin beneath draws a sound out of your chest that you'd be embarrassed about in any other context.
Her jaw must be getting tired, but she doesn't let up. She pulls off to breathe, keeps her hand moving in long slick strokes (your cock is coated now, shining with spit and precum from the base to the tip), and presses her open mouth against the side of your shaft. Wet, sloppy kisses along the length of you, her tongue tracing shapes against the skin. She mouths at the base, nuzzles lower, drags her tongue across your balls with a flat, firm pressure that makes your hips shift restlessly on the mattress.
"Stay still," she echoes, throwing your own words back at you with a grin pressed into your inner thigh.
"Easier said than done."
"See? Now you get it."
She takes the head back into her mouth, and the suction is tighter now, more focused, her cheeks hollowing as she works. Her hand twists on every upstroke, a corkscrew motion around your shaft that sends sparks up your spine. She's thorough, almost methodical, covering every inch of you - tongue swirling the head, lips tight on the shaft, hand firm at the base, the other still gently rolling your balls. Your cock is soaked, absolutely dripping, spit running down to her fingers and pooling warm against your skin.
(You're a psychology major. You know about the halo effect - the cognitive bias that makes people assume attractive individuals are also competent, kind, intelligent. You've always been skeptical of it. But right now, with Momo's mouth wrapped around you, you're willing to concede that the halo effect, while scientifically questionable, is at minimum emotionally persuasive.)
She takes you deep one more time, holds it, swallows. Your grip tightens in her hair and she makes a small, satisfied sound around you that vibrates through the shaft and directly into the base of your skull. Then she pulls off, gasping softly, and wraps both hands around your cock, stroking in long, fluid movements from base to tip. The whole length of you is slick, glistening, thoroughly worked over.
She surveys her handiwork with obvious pride, her lips swollen and pink, her chin wet. She swipes the back of her hand across her mouth and sits back on her heels between your legs, knees pressing into the mattress, those thick thighs folded beneath her.
"There." She gives your cock one last slow stroke, her thumb circling the head, spreading the wetness around. "All ready."
She's looking at you with that grin, bright and unguarded, her hair a disaster and her lips puffy and her eyes still a little glazed from her own orgasm. Your cock throbs in her hand, slick and hard and aching, every nerve ending lit up from thirty minutes of her undivided attention.
Momo releases her grip and leans forward, planting both hands on your chest, her breasts pressing soft and heavy against your stomach and her face hovers above yours.
"So," she breathes, her hips settling down against yours, the wet heat of her pressing against the underside of your cock. "How do you want me?”
You stare at her. It's a mistake. You know it's a mistake the moment you do it, because looking at Hirai Momo when she's hovering above you, naked and flushed and grinning with swollen lips, is the kind of thing that makes rational thought pack its bags and leave the building.
The late afternoon light falls across her collarbones, the slope of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts hanging heavy above your chest. Her hair is a mess, dark strands stuck to her neck, and her eyes are soft and warm and looking right at you with an attentiveness you would never expect from her.
And your brain, your stupid overworked psychology-major brain, does the worst possible thing it could do in this moment.
It starts to feel.
Not just arousal. Not just the obvious biological response to having a beautiful naked woman pressed against you. Something more dangerous, something in the back of your ribs that aches when she smiles at you like that. You're cataloging her features without meaning to — the tiny mole near lower lip, the way her nose scrunches when she grins, the faint indentation on her earlobe where she took out her earring.
You're almost falling in love with her. The thought surfaces fully formed and you shove it down with both hands.
She's here because you wrote her media ethics paper. She's in your bed because of a transaction. You are a service she's paying for with her body, or she's a service you're paying for with your GPA. Either way, this is commerce. It has terms. It has an expiration date. You do not catch feelings for commerce.
You sit up abruptly, and Momo slides off your chest with a surprised little "oh."
"Where are you going?"
"Condom." You swing your legs off the bed and cross to the nightstand. Bottom drawer, behind a textbook on cognitive behavioral therapy (because that's where you keep them, and yes, you're aware of the symbolism). You pull one out, tear the wrapper.
"Good thinking," Momo says from the bed. She's lying on her back now, one knee bent, watching you. "This one guy in my comm class never wanted to use one and I was like, dude, I'm dumb but I'm not that dumb."
"Compelling anecdote."
"I thought so."
You roll the condom on, smoothing it down your shaft with practiced efficiency, and turn back to the bed. Momo is stretched out against your sheets like she was sculpted there, all golden skin and curves and that silver piercing catching light on her stomach. Her thighs are slightly parted, and between them she's still wet, glistening from the orgasm you gave her.
You climb back onto the bed, settling on your knees between her legs. She spreads them wider to make room, casual as anything, and hooks one ankle behind your thigh.
"How do you want to do this?" she asks.
"Missionary."
She raises both eyebrows. "Really? That's so vanilla."
"I want to see your face."
You don’t catch the words in time. Too open. Too blunt. Momo’s look shifts, a brief shimmer in her gaze you can’t decode, and a slow smile unfolds across her lips.
"That's kind of romantic," she murmurs.
You reach for the first deflection you can find: "Also, I want to watch your tits bounce."
She bursts out laughing. "There it is. I was like, who is this guy? Being all sweet." She cups her own breasts, lifts them, lets them drop. "They do bounce pretty good."
"I've noticed."
"Everyone notices." Momo says it without vanity, just fact. She pulls out the hair tie and the messy ponytail comes undone. She settles back into the pillow with her arms above her head, hair fanned out, body open and waiting. "Okay, come on. Show me what you've got."
You brace one hand beside her head. The other grips the base of your cock, guiding yourself to her entrance. She's so wet that the head slides against her easily, skating through the slickness, and you position yourself at her opening. Press forward. Just the tip, just barely parting her, and the heat is immediate and intense.
Momo's breath catches. Her eyes are on yours, wide and focused. You push in. Slow, controlled, feeding yourself into her inch by inch. Her body resists for just a second, that initial tightness, and then she relaxes around you and you slide deeper, feeling her stretch to accommodate you. Warm. Wet. Tight enough that the pressure registers along every nerve in your shaft.
"Oh, fuck," she exhales. Her hands come down to grip your forearms. "Go slow."
"I am going slow."
"Slower."
You stop halfway, holding still, letting her adjust. Her inner walls pulse around you in soft, rhythmic contractions, her body figuring you out. She's breathing through her mouth, chest rising and falling, and those gorgeous breasts shift with each inhale.
"Okay," she whispers. "More."
You press the rest of the way in. Her pelvis meets yours, your hips flush against the insides of her thighs, and you're fully seated inside her. The feeling is… a lot. She's clenching around you, intentionally or not, and the squeeze is tight enough that you have to hold still and take a measured breath through your nose.
"You feel really good," Momo tells you. Plainly. "Like, filling? In a good way."
"I'll put that on my résumé."
"You should. Under special skills."
You pull back, a slow drag that makes her grip tighten on your forearms, then push back in. Steady. Unhurried. Letting both of you feel every inch of the stroke. Her pussy grips you on the outstroke, like her body doesn't want to let go, and the wet friction on the re-entry sends heat pooling at the base of your spine.
You find a rhythm. Deep, full strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in. Your hips meet hers with a soft, wet sound each time, and her body rocks beneath you. And there they go - her breasts, heavy and round, swaying with each thrust. They move in opposite rhythm to your strokes, rolling upward when you push in, settling back when you pull out. Hypnotic. You weren't lying about wanting to watch.
"Enjoying the view?" She catches you staring.
"Immensely."
She grins, then gasps when you angle your hips slightly, changing the trajectory. The head of your cock drags against the front wall of her pussy on the upstroke and her whole body reacts - abs clenching, thighs squeezing your sides, a sharp inhale through her teeth.
"That," she breathes. "Whatever that was, do that again."
You do it again. And again. Finding the angle that makes her gasp and committing to it with methodical precision. Each stroke pushes against that swollen spot inside her, and you can feel the difference in her reactions. Her moans get louder, less performative, more involuntary.
"Fuck." Her head presses back into the pillow, throat arched. "This is so much better than I expected."
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know, like..." She gasps when you thrust particularly deep. "Three minutes and a pat on the head."
"You've been sleeping with the wrong people."
"Obviously!" She laughs, and the sound breaks into a moan when you pick up the pace.
You shift your weight to one arm and bring your free hand to her breast, palming the heavy swell, thumb finding her nipple. You roll it under the pad of your thumb, firm circles, and she arches into the touch. Her skin is hot under your hand, slightly damp with sweat.
The rhythm settles into something insistent. Faster now, your hips working in steady, driving strokes, and the bed frame is tapping quietly against the wall with each thrust. Momo's legs wrap around your waist, her heels pressing into the small of your back, pulling you deeper. Her pussy is soaked, the sounds between your bodies obscene and wet, and you can feel her clenching around you in rhythmic pulses, tighter each time.
"That angle." Her nails drag down your forearms. "Right there. Don't move, don't change anything."
You maintain it. Same depth, same angle, same pace. Her body starts to tense beneath you, a gradual tightening that begins in her thighs and spreads upward through her stomach, her chest, her shoulders.
Her eyes are getting hazy. Her mouth is open, breathing ragged. Her breasts are bouncing with each thrust, nipples hard, and the silver piercing on her stomach flashes in the fading light.
"I think I'm..." She swallows. "Oh my God, I think I'm going to—"
You bring your hand down between your bodies. Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and slick, and you press against it firmly. She jolts beneath you.
"Fuck!" Her hands fly to your shoulders, nails biting in. "Oh, fuck."
You rub her. Tight, fast circles against her clit, your thumb sliding easily through the wetness, while your hips keep their rhythm. The dual stimulation hits her hard, you can see it happening, feel it in the way her pussy clamps down around your cock, the way her thighs start trembling violently against your ribs.
"Don't stop,” she moans “Please, please, don't stop, right there—"
You press harder, rub faster, and thrust deep. Her body goes rigid beneath you. Every muscle locks, her back arching clean off the mattress, her breasts pressing against your chest. Her pussy clamps around you in a vise grip, pulsing hard, and her eyes roll back, literally roll back, the brown disappearing under fluttering lids as her mouth falls open in a silent scream that takes a full second to find its voice.
The sound she makes is raw and broken. Long, shuddering, her whole body convulsing around you. Her legs lock behind your back, pulling you in as deep as you can go, and her hips buck in erratic, helpless circles against your thumb. You feel every contraction, every pulse of her orgasm gripping your cock in tight, rhythmic waves.
You ease up on her clit but keep your thumb resting there, light pressure, while the aftershocks roll through her. Her thighs are shaking uncontrollably, the thick muscles twitching and jumping. Her stomach spasms, the piercing shivering with each involuntary clench of her abs. She's gasping, each breath a ragged, broken thing, and there are tears at the corners of her eyes; not from sadness, just from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it.
"Oh my God." Her grip on your shoulders loosens. Her eyes refocus, glazed and stunned. "Oh my God."
You stay still inside her, letting her come down, feeling the last contractions pulse weakly around your shaft.
"No guy has ever..." She blinks. Swallows. Tries again: "No guy has ever made me cum like that. Not even close. What the fuck."
You look down at her. Wrecked, trembling, tear-streaked, the most beautiful mess you've ever seen in your life. Flushed from her hairline to her chest, hair plastered to her neck, lips bitten red.
"I'm full of surprises," you tell her, and brush a damp strand of hair off her forehead, your thumb tracing the edge of her jaw before you can stop yourself from being tender about it.
You lean down and kiss her. It's unhurried, almost lazy, your mouth moving against hers while she's still trembling from the aftershocks. Her hand comes up to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and for a moment it's just this - mouths and breath and the quiet of your apartment settling around you.
She pulls back first, blinking up at you with those glazed, enormous eyes. Her gaze drops between your bodies, to where you're still hard inside her, and her brows knit together in confusion.
"How have you not cum yet?"
"Willpower."
"Seriously, though." She shifts her hips experimentally and you grit your teeth at the sensation, her pussy still clenching in residual spasms around your shaft. "Most guys would've finished like twenty minutes ago."
You pull out slowly, the drag of her swollen walls along your cock enough to make you exhale. "It's been a while since I've had sex. I wanted to make it last."
"How long is a while?"
"Long enough that I'm not going to rush through this."
She studies you quietly, tipping her head to the side the way she always does when she’s thinking. Something flickers behind her eyes. Then a grin creeps over her warm cheeks, unhurried and just a little bit wicked.
"Okay," she says. "Then I'm going to reward you." She pushes herself up, rolls onto her stomach, and gets on all fours.
And you understand. Immediately, viscerally, with every single neuron in your overworked brain, you understand why every guy likes this position.
Momo on all fours is a religious experience.
Her back slopes downward from her shoulders in a smooth arch, the line of her spine dipping deep before curving up into her ass. And her ass. God, her ass. It's right there, round and full and heavy. Her cheeks are thick and smooth with just enough softness that they bounce slightly as she adjusts her knees on the mattress. From this angle, the curve of each cheek swells outward in a perfect crescent, the cleft between them deep and shadowed. Below, between her spread thighs, her pussy is swollen and glistening, pink and wet from two orgasms.
She looks back at you over her shoulder. That grin again. "You're staring."
"I'm processing."
"Take a picture, it lasts longer." She wiggles her hips. Actually wiggles them, a small side-to-side sway that makes her ass jiggle, and your brain short-circuits for a full second.
"Don't tempt me."
"You could. I don't mind."
"Momo."
"What! I'm just saying. Anyway." She faces forward again, drops to her elbows, and the new angle pushes her ass up higher, the arch of her back deepening. Her breasts hang heavy beneath her, swaying slightly. "You can go hard now. Like, intense. I can take it."
Her wish is an order. You position yourself behind her. One hand on her hip, the other guiding your cock to her entrance. She's so wet that the head slips against her twice before you line up, the slick heat smearing across the inside of her thigh. You press forward, and her body opens for you easily this time, her pussy stretching around you in one smooth, continuous glide.
She moans into the pillow. Low, throaty, muffled by the cotton. Her walls grip you differently in this position - tighter, the angle pushing you against the front wall, and you can feel every ridge and texture of her insides as you bottom out.
"Oh, that's deep," she gasps, fingers curling into the sheets. "That's really, really deep."
You pull back and push in again. Harder this time. The impact of your hips meeting her ass produces a dull, fleshy sound that fills the quiet room, and her whole body rocks forward with the force of it. Her ass ripples on contact.
"Harder," she tells you, and there's no hesitation in it. "Come on. I told you I can take it."
So you give her harder.
Your grip tightens on her hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, and you set a pace that's consistent and firm. Each thrust drives deep, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room alongside her breathing. Her ass bounces with every stroke, the heavy cheeks absorbing the impact and jiggling in a way that's honestly pretty distracting.
You spread her. Both hands on her cheeks, thumbs pressing into the yielding flesh, pulling them apart. And there it is: the full, explicit view of your cock disappearing into her pussy. Her lips are stretched tight around your shaft, flushed dark pink, clinging to you on every outstroke. The slickness between you catches the light, obscene and glistening. You watch yourself sink in, watch her swallow every inch, watch the way her entrance flutters and grips.
"Fuck," you mutter.
"Good view?" She's breathless, cheek pressed against the pillow, one eye looking back at you.
"Incredible."
"Told you this position is the best." Her words dissolve into a sharp gasp when you thrust particularly deep, your hips flush against her ass. "Oh, God. Right there."
You hold her cheeks apart and keep going, eyes fixed on the place where your bodies connect. The visual feedback is devastating - watching yourself fuck her, seeing every detail of it, the way her pussy grips and releases, the wetness that coats your shaft and strings between you on every outstroke. You pick up the pace and her moans get louder, less controlled.
"You fuck so good," she pants. Her elbows slide on the sheets and she drops lower, chest against the mattress, ass pushed up even higher. The angle shifts and you sink deeper. "Like, seriously, what the fuck. Where did you learn this?"
"Practice quiz."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Her laughter turns into a moan when you snap your hips forward hard enough to make her whole body jolt. You're finding a groove now, a relentless rhythm that has the bed frame knocking steadily against the wall. Your hands alternate between gripping her hips for leverage and spreading her cheeks for the view. Each time you pull them apart and watch your cock plunge into her.
"You're so fucking wet," you tell her.
"That's your fault." She fists the pillow, burying her face in it for a second before coming back up for air. "You and your stupid mouth and your stupid tongue and your stupid—" A particularly hard thrust cuts her off. "Oh, fuck. Keep doing that."
You lean forward, changing the angle, one hand braced on the mattress beside her ribs. The new position lets you drive downward into her, each stroke grinding against the front wall, and her reaction is immediate. Her back arches sharper, her toes curl against the sheets, and a sound comes out of her that's rawer than anything you've heard tonight.
You maintain the angle and the pace, each thrust deep and grinding, your hips meeting her ass with a steady slap that punctuates every stroke. Sweat is beading along her spine, collecting in the small of her back, and her whole body is trembling.
"I'm gonna cum again." She says it with a note of disbelief. "How am I going to cum again? I never cum this many times."
"Just let it happen."
"I'm—" Her fingers twist in the sheets. "Oh my God, I'm really close."
You reach underneath her. Your fingers find her clit, swollen and slippery, and you press firmly, rubbing in fast circles while your hips keep their punishing rhythm. The combined assault of your cock driving deep and your fingers working her clit tears a sound out of her that's almost a scream, muffled into the pillow she's biting.
You feel the orgasm ripping through Momo, her inner walls seizing in hard, rhythmic contractions that grip your cock in waves. Her thighs are shaking violently, her whole body convulsing, and her back arches so severely that her ass presses hard against your hips. Her toes curl, uncurl, curl again. She's gone, completely gone, riding it out in helpless, full-body shudders with broken and incoherent moans against the pillow.
You slow your thrusts, letting her feel every pulse, and ease your fingers off her clit as the peak crests and begins to recede. She's trembling so hard the mattress vibrates.
"Oh my God." It's barely audible. Her legs give out and she collapses flat onto her stomach, your cock slipping out of her in the process. She lies there, face down, panting, absolutely destroyed. "Oh my God."
She turns her head to the side. One glassy eye finds you. "No guy," she whispers, "has ever made me cum like that. Not once. Not ever. What the actual fuck are you."
"Full of surprises." Your hand runs down the curve of her spine, a slow, gentle sweep over the sweat-damp skin. "I did say that."
She lets out a weak, breathless laugh. "You're unreal." She's still catching her breath, but she rolls her head to look at you properly, reading the strain on your face. "Where do you want to cum? I can tell you're close."
You look at her. The mess of her hair, the flush on her cheeks, the sheen of sweat across her shoulders. And her breasts, pressed flat against the mattress, spilling to the sides.
"Your tits."
"Good choice." She grins, lazy and satisfied, and rolls over onto her back. Her breasts settle heavy on her chest, full and round, nipples dark and stiff. She stretches her arms above her head, arching slightly, presenting them to you. "All yours."
You straddle her, knees on either side of her ribcage, and strip the condom off. Your cock is painfully hard, slick from her. You wrap your hand around yourself and start stroking, fast and tight, and the relief of direct friction after all that teasing, after her mouth, after her pussy, is overwhelming.
Momo watches you from below with eyes half-lidded, that lazy grin still curving her lips. "That's hot," she murmurs. "Watching you jerk off over me. I like it." Your hand moves faster. The tension in your gut coils tighter, tighter, every muscle in your core bracing for it. "Come on," she encourages, licking her lips. "Give it to me."
Your cock pulses hard in your fist, the tension that's been building for the last hour finally snapping, and the first thick rope of cum shoots out of you in a heavy arc that lands across her left breast. A white streak, dense and warm, splattering across the full round swell of it and dripping down toward her nipple in a slow, obscene trail.
"Yeah," Momo breathes beneath you, her eyes locked on your cock. "Give me all of it."
Your hips jerk forward, your hand keeps moving in tight, fast strokes, and the second shot follows - just as thick, just as heavy, this one catching her right breast dead center. It lands with a wet sound against her skin, a long white stripe that pools in the crease where her breast meets her chest before overflowing, sliding down into the valley between them.
"Fuck." The word grinds out of you through clenched teeth, your abs clenching with each contraction.
"God, there's so much." She's staring down at her own chest, watching your cum paint her tits, and her tongue drags across her lower lip. "Keep going, don't stop."
A third pulse. This one hits the upper slope of her left breast and her collarbone, a messy splatter that streaks across her skin in thick white lines. Her nipple is coated now, cum clinging to the stiff peak, dripping off the sides in slow rivulets that trace the curve of her breast before soaking into the sheets beneath her.
"All over my tits," she murmurs, her breasts shifting with each breath and smearing the mess further. "That's so fucking hot. You're making such a mess of me."
The fourth shot is weaker but still thick, landing in the valley between her breasts, adding to the pool that's already gathered there. The cum slides in both directions, trickling down the inner slope of each breast. Your cock throbs in your grip, each pulse wringing another load out of you, and a fifth spurt hits her right nipple directly, coating the dark bud in a thick white glaze that drips down onto the swell beneath.
"Look at me," she says, and you do. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted and wet. "You came so hard. That's all because of me, right?"
"Yeah,” you murmur weakly. "All you."
"Good." She grins, watching the last of it drip from the tip of your cock. Thick droplets fall onto her sternum, her chest, her stomach (one lands just above the silver glint of her belly button piercing). "I love watching you cum. Your face gets all tense and serious. It's cute."
You're still dripping. The final weak pulses leave thin trails of cum that roll down your shaft and over your knuckles, and you stroke through them, milking out the very last of it. A translucent string stretches between the tip of your cock and the wet mess on her chest before breaking, landing on the inner curve of her breast.
Her tits are covered. Streaked and splattered in thick white ropes, glistening under the fading light. The cum has pooled in every dip and crease - between her breasts, around her nipples, in the soft hollow of her collarbone. Some of it has started to slide down her ribs, thin trails running over the sides of her breasts toward the sheets.
You let go of yourself. Your thighs are trembling against her ribs. Below you, Momo looks down at her own chest with an expression of amused assessment.
"Wow. You really did save up.”
"Told you it'd been a while."
She brings both hands to her breasts. Her fingers spread through the mess, smearing your cum across her skin in slow circles. She rubs it over the swell of each breast, across her nipples, coating herself in it with an unhurried thoroughness that makes your spent cock twitch against your thigh. The white streaks thin and spread under her palms, turning her chest slick and shiny.
Then she lifts one hand to her mouth and slides two fingers between her lips.
She licks them clean. Eyes on yours the entire time, those big brown irises holding your gaze while her tongue curls around her fingertips, collecting every trace. She pulls them out, goes back for more, scooping a thick smear from the curve of her breast and bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue catches the glob off her index finger, and she swallows without breaking eye contact.
"Salty," she announces, like she's providing a Yelp review.
You stare at her. Hirai Momo, lying on your bed, covered in your cum, licking it off her own fingers with the same casual ease she'd bring to eating gummy bears.
She takes your cock in her hand, soft and spent, and leans down. Her full lips press against the tip in a gentle, deliberate kiss. Not sexual, exactly. Tender. The kind of gesture that doesn't fit the arrangement you've agreed to. Her mouth is warm and soft against the oversensitive head, and your stomach does something complicated that you refuse to examine.
"Do you do this with everyone who cums on your tits?"
She pulls back, still holding you loosely, and looks up. "No." She says it simply, without performance. "Only you. You deserve it."
You lie side by side on the bed. The sheets are wrecked, tangled at the foot of the mattress, the light has gone from gold to amber to the thin blue-gray of early evening. Momo is on her back, one arm draped across her stomach, the other extended above her head. Her breasts rise and fall with each slowing breath, still faintly glossy. Your cum is drying on her skin in thin, translucent streaks that she hasn't bothered to wipe off.
You're on your back too, staring at the ceiling, acutely aware of the warmth of her body beside yours. Your shoulders are almost touching.
"Can I use your shower?" She turns her head to look at you. "I have a party tonight."
"Of course you do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Bathroom's through there." You gesture toward the door.
She rolls off the bed with a bounce that shouldn't be possible for someone who just had three orgasms, and pads across your room barefoot. Naked. Completely, unselfconsciously, magnificently naked. Her ass sways with each step, the full heavy curve of it shifting left and right, and the light from the window traces the contour of her waist, the dimples above her tailbone.
She pauses in the doorway to look back at you. "Do you have a towel that isn't sad?"
"All my towels are sad. It's a matching set."
"You need a girlfriend." She disappears into the bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water start.
Hirai Momo is naked in your apartment. Using your shower. After having sex with you in exchange for a media ethics essay. You lie there on your wrecked sheets, staring at the ceiling, and try to pinpoint the exact moment your life became a bad college movie.
She comes back ten minutes later, wrapped in your sad towel, hair damp, skin dewy. She gets dressed in front of you without a shred of modesty - stepping into her underwear, clasping her bra, pulling the top back over her head. She checks her reflection in your laptop screen, fluffs her wet hair, and deems herself acceptable.
"Okay, I'm going. My paper's due Thursday, right?"
“It’s already finished. I’ll send it to you later.”
"You're the best." She blows you a kiss from the doorway. "Bye!"
The door closes. The apartment is quiet. You lie there for another full minute, then get up, strip the sheets, and start a load of laundry.
• • •
You told yourself it would only be once.
It is not once. Momo keeps showing up. She has a talent for finding you on campus - in the library, in the psych building, in the cafeteria where you eat lunch alone with a textbook propped against the napkin dispenser. She materializes beside you like she has a GPS tracker on your location.
"I have another paper due," she announces one Tuesday, sliding into the seat across from you at the library. She's wearing a cropped hoodie, no bra underneath (you can tell, you can always tell now, and you hate yourself for always checking), and those same tiny denim shorts.
"What class?"
"Intro to Sociology."
"When's it due?"
"Tomorrow."
"Momo. It's Monday night."
"I know! That's why I came to find you." She leans forward, elbows on the table. "I'll make it worth your while."
She bites her lip. Not seductively; she's just chewing on it the way she does when she's thinking. But the effect is the same, and your resolve, which was already the structural integrity of wet cardboard, collapses entirely.
"Fine. Two thousand words on social stratification?"
"Is that the one about rich people and poor people?"
"Close enough."
"You're amazing." She reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.
You write the paper. She comes over the next evening. The cycle repeats.
More assignments, more sex. Her communications midterm prep (you write the study guide; she rides you on the couch). A group project presentation that her partners are too starstruck by her face to complain she contributed nothing (you build her slides; she blows you in the kitchen while the coffee brews). A reflection paper on gender dynamics in media (the irony continues to cremate itself; she lets you bend her over the desk).
The tutoring sessions become a formality. You really try to maintain some semblance of academic purpose. You print out practice questions, prepare vocabulary lists, bring flashcards. Momo sits across from you, pen in hand, notebook open, and lasts approximately four and a half minutes before the fidgeting starts.
"Okay, but what if Maslow's hierarchy of needs, but for snacks?" she proposes during one session, her feet in your lap under the table. "Like, the base level is water, then chips, then gummy bears, and the top is boba."
"That's not how Maslow works."
"It should be. His version is boring."
She doodles in the margins. She mispronounces "epistemology" so badly it sounds like a skin condition. She asks you if Karl Marx and Groucho Marx are related (they are not). She spends ten minutes trying to understand the concept of cognitive dissonance before declaring, "That's literally just being a Gemini."
And yet. She tries. In her own scattered, easily distracted, fundamentally Momo way, she tries. She reads the chapters you assign her - slowly, with her finger tracing each line, mouthing the words. She attempts the practice questions, and even when she gets them wrong, she furrows her brow and asks why. She texts you at midnight with questions that are sometimes insightful and often unhinged ("if everyone is socialized by their environment, does that mean I'm the product of K-pop and TikTok? because that tracks honestly").
She's never late for the sex. Not once. The girl who showed up twenty minutes late to your first tutoring session with boba in hand arrives at your apartment with military precision when there's an orgasm on the line. You'd find this insulting if it weren't so on-brand.
Her grades improve. Nothing dramatic. She inches from failing to passing, from D-territory into low C's. Her sociology professor emails her a "nice improvement" note and she screenshots it and sends it to you with seventeen exclamation marks and a string of emojis that includes, for reasons unclear, a lobster.
"I'm basically a genius now," she tells you one afternoon, lying on your bed in just her underwear after a session that stopped being academic approximately ninety seconds in.
"You got a C minus, Momo."
"That's passing! That's literally passing! I've never passed sociology before."
"You've taken it before?"
"Twice." She holds up two fingers. "Third time's the charm."
"That's not the flex you think it is."
"Everything is a flex if you believe in yourself."
The arrangement works. It's simple, clean, mutually beneficial. You write, she fucks, everyone wins. That's what you tell yourself every time she shows up at your door.
But today, things don’t go according to the usual setup
The sex is good. It's been good for almost two months. You've figured each other out by now. You know which angle makes her toes curl. She knows how to squeeze around you at exactly the right moment to make your brain go blank. You get each other off. Every time. No fumbling, no guesswork.
But tonight, after she comes (hard, gasping, her nails leaving fresh red trails down your forearms), something different happens.
She doesn't get up. She doesn't reach for her phone. She doesn't ask to use the shower, doesn't mention a party or a dinner or a friend she's meeting. Instead, she rolls onto her side, tucks herself against you, and lays her head on your chest.
Her cheek presses against your skin, right over your heartbeat. Her arm drapes across your stomach, her fingers curling loosely against your ribs. Her hair fans across your chest, dark and damp at the temples, smelling like your shampoo from the last time she showered here.
She doesn't say anything. Her breathing slows. Her body gets heavier against yours.
"Momo."
Nothing.
"Momo, don't you have somewhere to be?"
Her response is a small, sleepy mumble that contains no actual words. Her fingers twitch against your ribs and then go still.
"Momo." You nudge her shoulder gently. "Hey."
She's asleep. Fully, completely asleep. On your chest, in your bed, in your sad monk apartment. Her lips are slightly parted, her breath coming in slow, even puffs against your skin. One of her legs has tangled with yours under the sheets.
Wake her up. That's the move. Shake her shoulder, find her shirt, get her dressed, get her out, get your head straight. You know this. You know the rules because you made the rules. No sleepovers. No cuddling. No stroking her hair like you're doing right now, slow and careful from her forehead to the crown of her head, like she's something fragile, like she's something yours. When did your hand start doing that? You don't remember deciding to. Doesn't matter. You're not stopping.
Her hair is soft. You already knew that. You've grabbed fistfuls of it while she sucked your cock, pulled it while you fucked her from behind. But that was different. That was part of the arrangement. This is you touching her because you want to. Because she's warm, close and sleeping on your chest like she trusts you, and you don't have the guts to stop.
At some point the sun went down and you didn't bother turning on a light because that would require moving and Momo is asleep on you and you'd rather die than disturb that.
Momo burrows into your neck in her sleep and makes this little noise, barely there, and her arm squeezes tighter around your stomach. Your hand has been running through her hair on autopilot for the last ten minutes. Very normal behavior. Nothing to unpack there.
You're looking at the ceiling because it's the only safe place to look. The crack in the plaster is still there. Still shaped like a question mark. Still annoyingly relevant.
You have two options for dealing with what's happening inside you right now: you can dress it up in clinical language. Pair bonding. Oxytocin release. Attachment formation through repeated intimate contact. You can write yourself a whole paper on it, cite sources, get a decent grade.
Or you can just admit you're in love with Hirai Momo and deal with the consequences.
She mumbles something in her sleep and nuzzles deeper into your neck. Your hand pauses. Her face scrunches. You start stroking again immediately, like a trained animal. Pavlov would be so proud.
"I'm fucked," you inform the ceiling.
The ceiling doesn't respond. Momo sleeps on, warm and trusting, her hand curled against your ribs, completely unaware that she just ruined your life in the best possible way.
Y/N's hand was still slick with her juices as he opened the door of the sleek black sedan and practically threw Yunjin into the apartment, her bare body glistening in the stark light of the hallway. She stumbled, the cool air of the building a stark contrast to the sticky heat of their recent encounter. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing through the quiet space, and she looked up to find the crew manager standing there, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Yunjin is right here," Y/N said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that made her skin crawl. He gestured to her, naked and trembling, and the crewman's jaw dropped. The other man looked at her with a mix of shock and hunger, his gaze lingering on the wetness between her legs.
The first three men didn't waste a second. They descended upon her like ravenous beasts, each claiming a piece of her body for their own twisted delight. One buried his face in her armpit, his tongue flicking and lapping at her sweaty skin with a hunger that made her stomach twist. Another grabbed her by the neck, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip, drawing blood. The third man dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving hers as he buried his face between her legs, his tongue immediately seeking out her clit and bringing her to the edge of another squirt.
The other three men circled them, cameras rolling, capturing every intimate detail. The flashes were blinding, the sound of the recording devices a constant reminder that this was not a private moment. She could feel the eyes of her group members, her manager, and the entire crew on her, watching, judging, lusting after her exposed form. Her cheeks burned with humiliation, but she was too far gone to protest, her body responding to the relentless onslaught of pleasure.
One of the cameramen stepped closer, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "You're so beautiful when you squirt." The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and she found herself pushing her hips against the man's face, silently begging for more. Her pussy was a slick mess, the sound of his mouth sucking and licking echoing through the room. The other two men held her in place, their hands rough as they groped and squeezed her breasts, their fingers pinching her nipples until she was sure they'd leave marks.
With a final, triumphant lick, the man at her pussy pulled away, his face shiny with her juices. He grinned up at her, and she could see the excitement in his eyes as he unbuckled his belt. The fabric of his pants fell away, revealing his cock, thick and hard with anticipation. She knew what was coming, and a mix of fear and excitement curled in her belly. This was it; there was no turning back now.
The man who had been kissing her neck moved to her side, his cock jutting out in front of her face. He didn't have to ask; she knew what he wanted, and she leaned in, her mouth opening wide to take him in. The taste of her own arousal was faint on his skin, a reminder of the power she held in her own sexuality. She sucked eagerly, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper. His hand tightened in her hair, guiding her movements, and she could feel the first stirrings of another orgasm building deep within her.
The third man, the one who had been watching with such intensity, stepped forward. He was the biggest of them all, and she felt a momentary pang of doubt as she saw the size of his cock. But the hunger in his eyes was undeniable, and she found herself spreading her legs wider, welcoming him. He positioned himself at her ass, and she felt a moment of resistance before he pushed inside, his cock stretching her wide.
The moment all three cocks entered her simultaneously, she felt like she was being split apart, filled to the brim with their lust. The sensation was overwhelming, and she let out a muffled scream around the cock in her mouth. They moved in sync, their rhythm a well-oiled machine of desire that had her body writhing in pleasure. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, the pressure in her pussy and ass building until she couldn't take it anymore.
Her squirt was like a geyser, soaking the men and the floor beneath them. The sound of her moan was lost in the cacophony of their grunts and the slap of skin on skin. She felt so alive, so powerful, as she took them all. The room was a blur of bodies and cameras, a kaleidoscope of lust that left her breathless. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the men pounded into her, their strokes growing more erratic with their own approaching climaxes.
The man in her pussy grunted, his grip on her waist tightening as he shot his load deep inside her, filling her with his hot cum. The feeling of him filling her up triggered another orgasm, and she squirted even more, her body bucking with the force of it. The man filming her face leaned in, eager to capture her reaction, and she could see the excitement in his eyes. He was close, his cock twitching with the need to release.
The one in her mouth pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva. He jerked himself off, the head bobbing in front of her face. She watched, mesmerized, as he painted her with ropes of cum, covering her cheeks and nose. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant, and she found herself leaning in to lick a droplet from her upper lip. He groaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise, and she felt a thrill run through her.
The last man, the one in her ass, was pumping faster now, his breath coming in harsh pants. She could feel his cock thickening, and she pushed back onto him, eager to milk him dry. He gripped her hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he grunted, his teeth clenched. And then, with a roar, he came, his cum joining the mess already pooling in her pussy. She squirted again, the feeling of his hot seed in her ass pushing her over the edge.
Yunjin collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The men hovered around her, their eyes glued to the screen as they watched the replay of their depraved performance. Her pussy was still pulsing, the warmth of their cum seeping out of her, a sticky reminder of their shared release. She couldn't help the smile that curled her lips; she had never felt so desired, so alive.
The other three man who filming at first round start their turn.
Yunjin's pussy was still quivering from the previous assault when the next three crewmen stepped forward. They looked at her with hungry eyes, their cocks already erect and gleaming with anticipation. She could see the excitement in their faces, the way they licked their lips as they approached. The thought of two cocks filling her up was overwhelming, and she felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over her.
The first man knelt between her legs, his cock bobbing eagerly as he lined it up with her dripping entrance. He pushed inside her, his girth stretching her to the limit, and she gasped at the sensation. The second man followed suit, his cock sliding in alongside the first with surprising ease. She was so wet, so open, that she could feel their shafts rubbing together, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.
The third man leaned over her, his cock brushing her cheek as he whispered in her ear, "You're going to love this." He didn't wait for a response before he pushed the tip past her lips, filling her mouth to the brim. She choked slightly, her eyes watering, but she took it, her tongue swirling around him as she struggled to breathe through her nose. The taste of their combined arousal was overpowering, a musky, salty flavor that she found herself craving more of.
The rhythm began again, the two cocks inside her moving in tandem as the man in her mouth began to fuck her face. She could feel their excitement growing, their breaths quickening as they watched the screen, her body contorting in pleasure. The cameramen had switched places, capturing every angle of her being used and enjoyed.
Their thrusts grew more frenzied, their moans and grunts filling the room. Yunjin's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt herself climbing towards another peak. Her body was a whirlwind of sensation, a symphony of pain and pleasure that had her teetering on the edge.
And then it was too much. The two cocks inside her pushed her over the edge, and she squirted once more, the force of it spraying against their stomachs. The man in her mouth pulled out, his cock shiny with her saliva and the juices that leaked from her pussy. He stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, and she knew what was coming next.
With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his cum painting her face and neck in thick ropes. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she swallowed, the taste of him mixing with the remnants of the others' cum still coating her tongue. It was a heady mix, one that had her pussy clenching around the two cocks still buried inside her.
The other two didn't last much longer, their bodies tensing as they reached their own climaxes. They filled her up, their cum mixing with the others' until she was drenched in it. Her pussy was a slick mess, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasms.
The crewmen pulled out of her, their cocks glistening with her juices. They stepped back, panting, their eyes never leaving her. Yunjin could feel their gaze like a physical touch, a reminder of the power she wielded over them.
The next round of men approached, their excitement palpable. She was spread out on the bed like a feast, her limbs trembling from the relentless assault of pleasure. One man claimed her mouth, his cock pushing past her lips as she took him deep. His taste was different, a new flavor to add to the cocktail of desire that already filled her. She moaned around him, her tongue swirling as she sucked him off with newfound enthusiasm.
Her pussy was the target of the second man, his cock pushing into her with ease. She was so wet, so loose from the constant pounding, that she could feel every inch of him as he filled her up. And the third? He didn't wait for an invitation, plunging straight into her ass without preamble. The pain was sharp, but she was too lost in the haze of pleasure to care. Her body was no longer her own, a mere receptacle for their lust.
They fucked her like this for what felt like hours, the room a blur of bodies and sweat. Each time she thought she couldn't take anymore, she'd squirt again, her body betraying her with its insatiable hunger for more. She could feel their hands everywhere, groping her breasts, her thighs, her ass. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had her writhing on the bed.
And when they were done, they'd pull out, their cum dripping from her.
The day of the gangbang continued, and with each round, Yunjin found herself craving the feeling of being completely filled. The two cocks inside her pussy brought a new level of fullness she never knew existed, stretching her to her limits. The third cock in her mouth was a constant reminder of her role in this depraved dance, a silent conductor keeping her in tune with their desires. And she squirted, time and time again, her body's involuntary response to the relentless onslaught of pleasure.
The men took turns, a never-ending line of eager participants ready to claim their share of the idol. The bed beneath her grew slick with a mix of her juices and their cum, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air. Yet she remained unfazed, her body a canvas for their lust, her pussy a fountain that never ran dry. The men marveled at her ability to keep going, her squirts growing more powerful with each new cock that filled her.
The cameramen circled like vultures, capturing every moment in high definition. They zoomed in on her gaping pussy, the way her ass cheeks clenched around the dick pumping in and out of her, the droplets of cum that adorned her face like a macabre necklace. Her moans grew louder, her squirts more intense, and the room echoed with the slap of flesh and the wet sounds of sex.
Yunjin's mind was a whirlwind of sensation, a delirious mix of pain and pleasure that blurred the lines of reality. She could feel herself slipping away, becoming nothing more than a collection of nerve endings and orgasms. And yet, she couldn't stop. Her body responded to their touch like a marionette to their master's strings, her pussy clenching around them, her mouth eagerly taking them in, her eyes never leaving the camera lens that bore into her soul. She was a goddess of desire, a queen of lust, and she reveled in every moment of it.
The day dragged on, a never-ending procession of cocks and cum. Two men claimed her ass, their thick rods stretching her to the point of pain. She could feel their excitement, their hunger for her body. Her moans grew deeper, her voice hoarse from screaming, as they pounded into her with an unbridled fury that seemed to resonate through the very core of her being. And yet, she never stopped squirting. Her pussy was a geyser, a fountain of pleasure that seemed to have no end.
Her throat was raw from swallowing their seed, her mouth a cavern of saliva and cum. The taste lingered on her tongue, a reminder of her complete submission to their will. But she didn't care. She craved it, craved the feeling of being used, of being the center of their lust. Her body was their plaything, and she was more than happy to oblige.
The room was a cacophony of grunts and slaps, of flesh on flesh, of wet squelches and guttural moans. The men took her in every position imaginable, pushing her to her limits and beyond. Her pussy was stretched and filled, her ass pummeled until she was sure she could take no more. And yet, she kept going, her body responding to their touch with a ferocity that surprised even her. With each squirt, she felt a surge of power, a sense of control that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Her eyes remained locked on the camera, the red light a beacon in the sea of sweat and semen. She knew that her groupmates were watching, knew that they were waiting for their turn. The thought of it only made her wetter, her squirts more intense. She was the star of this show, the prize to be claimed, and she loved every second of it. Her body was theirs, and she would give them everything they wanted and more.
As the final spurts of cum painted her face and chest, the men withdrew, their cocks glistening with her juices. They were spent, their chests heaving with exhaustion. But Yunjin was insatiable. She licked her lips, tasting the salt and musk, and felt a new wave of arousal crash over her. Her pussy was still pulsing, begging for more.
"Now," she purred, "it's time for your golden shower." The men looked at each other, grinning like hyenas that had just found a fresh kill. They lined up, their cocks still hard, and began to piss on her. The warmth of their urine was surprisingly soothing against her over-sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the fiery lust that had consumed her moments ago. She closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the streams wash over her, filling her mouth and running down her throat.
Her body was a canvas, a masterpiece of depravity and desire. The piss rained down on her, her skin shimmering under the fluorescent lights. She felt the warm liquid pooling in her belly button, running down her sides to drench the couch beneath her. Her hair was matted to her forehead, and her makeup had long ago been washed away, leaving her bare and exposed in a way she had never been before. Yet, she had never felt more alive.
As the last of the men zipped up and left the room, she lay there, panting and trembling, a mess of sticky cum and piss. The room was silent except for the sound of her own breathing and the drip-drip-drip of their seed slowly leaving her body. But she wasn't done yet. Her pussy was still swollen, still begging for release.
With a wicked smile, she reached down to touch herself, her fingers slipping easily into her soaked hole. She began to masturbate, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving the camera. The director had told her to keep filming, to show everyone what a good little slut she could be. And she was going to give him a show.
Her hand moved faster, her hips bucking as she chased the elusive high of another orgasm. The room grew hotter, the scent of sex and bodily fluids thick in the air. She could feel it building, the pressure in her belly growing until it was all she could focus on. And when it hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over her and leaving her gasping for air.
Her body convulsed, her pussy spasming around her hand as she squirted once more, the final release a testament to her endurance. The camera kept rolling, capturing every second of her descent into carnality. And when she was finally spent, she collapsed against the couch, a sigh of pure contentment escaping her lips.
The director's voice broke through the silence. "Good girl," he said, his tone one of admiration and possession. "You've done well. But don't think it's over yet. You're going to need to clean up before the next round." And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving her alone in the apartment, her body aching and her mind racing with anticipation for what was to come.
Sometimes, you just have to say the thought that lingers in your mind out loud. Maybe it’s a form of resistance, standing up for yourself. Maybe it’s a proclamation of love. In your case, it’s something that’s going to lighten someone’s day up.
A tongue click. “Looking spicy today, boss. I’m burning because of ya.”
She glances back, not wavered by your words. Her strides remain calm, walking towards her office with a lethal poise. A smirk appears on her face. A scoff is heard from her lips. And she just looks away.
Maybe you can ramp it up next time.
—
The work day plays out as usual—emails, messing around with Figma, interviewing users. You put in your best like you’ve always been doing. It’s exhausting, surely, but you take some pride in giving your all like this. You’re proud of yourself.
In a heartbeat, the short clock hand teases the number five. The sun casts orange hue all over the office, gleaming it with the tranquil of the evening, ready to collapse under the weight of workers heading home. You sit in your seat, analyzing your customer’s answers from the morning. Your questions are clever, you’ve been told. Extracting users’ needs is your expertise, and you couldn’t be more–
A Slack notification appears.
Myoi Mina
Meet me in my office before you go home. I’ll clock you in for overtime.
Damn, another late evening.
You let out a sigh, leaning back against the chair. Your eyes glance towards her office. She remains fixated on her computer, typing out something. Her posture remains as confident as ever, even in her chair—straightened back, determined eyes. She’s just untouchable.
Oh, to make her crumble under your body.
—
“So, you do know the reason you’re in here, right?” Mina asks, tapping her Caran d’Ache on the table—steady, expressionless. You sit in your seat, raising your eyebrows. It’s probably nothing much. You know her.
You take a careless guess, “Extra prep for tomorrow’s interviews?” putting one leg on top of the other. Your hand thrums restlessly on your thigh, foot tapping on the floor.
“No interviews tomorrow. I’ve pushed it to Wednesday in case you become too,” she says, tilting her head slightly, “drained.”
You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms together on your chest. “Come on, boss, you know I never get tired. I once did twenty interviews in a day!”
Mina scoffs, a small smile escapes her lips. “And I admire that. Still, I’m certain that this is going to be the new extreme for you.”
You raise your eyebrows. This is intriguing. Maybe this will get you a promotion. “Well, whatever it is, I’m ready.”
Mina nods approvingly, with a slight upturn on her lips. “You have a lot of tangible qualities. We’d be pleased to have more employees like you, really.”
Safe to say that lights up a smile on your face. “I’m flattered, boss.”
“I’m happy that we’ve come to this conclusion. Now, let’s get back to our topic.”
She rises from her chair, sauntering around the table. Her motion is reserved. Every step is careful. She settles in the space between you and her wooden table before setting herself on it.
She looks down at you, smirking. Her flowery scent hits your nose. Heat builds up within your body. You stare into her eyes, and you’re sure that she’s inviting your gaze—the fire in her eyes, the slightly louder breathing than usual, the upturn of her lips, so you let your eyes wander. That slightly creased white shirt is so tempting, a deep neckline that’s just begging for you to rip it apart. Her belt, leather black, it’d sure look good on her wrists while you ruin her. The black skirt drapes over her legs nicely. If it would be just a few inches shorter.
You just can’t resist the temptations anymore. Your cock is fucking straining in your pants.
“God, you’re just smoking hot, Mina.”
It finally slips out.
Mina chuckles, covering her mouth. She leans forward just a little, enough to reveal the curves of her bra-clad cleavage. Oh, to rip it off and feast on her nipples while she moans like a slut under you. You reach out to her neckline, teasing it gently—cotton. Your fingers slide towards that top button, ready to undo it and free her from the confines of her clothes. Just imagine fucking her senseless in her own office, pressing her face against the table while you rut into her tight ass like you’ve always wished. You just have all the power in the world right now.
“Tell me,” Mina says, tilting your chin up, her body shivering slightly at your teasing. You’re affecting her, “what have you been wanting to do to me?”
You look into her eyes. They’re burning, and you can’t just contain your ferocity anymore.
“I’ve always wanted to take you, especially in this room, baby. Every time you walk past me, I just want to rip whatever you’re wearing and bury myself in your ass. God, you’re just begging to be fucked with it. I wanna know how that tight ass feels around my cock, and I’m going to cum inside while you’re just my little slut.”
Mina chuckles as the first button comes off, showing more of the breathtaking curves of her tits. You trail lower for the second, with a scorching need to expose every inch of her porcelain skin.
“That’s rather … explicit, don’t you think?” Mina says coyly, scratching your chin gently with her fingers. More buttons slowly come off with your hand. She’s just letting you do anything. You’re the one in control here.
“Your orders, baby,” you reply, smirking all assuredly. You lean closer towards her chest, taking in that flowery scent of her body. Your hand undoes the last button of her shirt, and the edge of it falls along with the gravity. She’s exposed, all for you to touch.
Mina smiles, satisfied with your assertions. “Would you mind taking my skirt off first? There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.”
Oh, to finally see her ass after years of ogling on it, wishing to clap it against your thighs.
Your hand glides down towards her belt, undoing it with ease, as if it’s a practiced move. She lets out a pleased hum as the belt comes off—another layer of obstruction gone. You then reach for the zipper of her skirt, eager to pull it down. The air is thick with tension, ready to snap at any second. You couldn’t be more prepared to make her your cumdump.
“Come on, baby. Don’t you wanna see the surprise?” Mina huffs, hand trembling under your chin.
You chuckle. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Your fingers find her zipper, before pulling it down gently. The sound of it just almost breaks you—so intense, so irresistible.
Until it reaches the bottom stop. The clicking sound elicits a smile from the two of you.
“What are you waiting for?” Mina quips.
Without another word, you grab the waistband of her frustratingly long skirt. Fucking finally. Her ass is yours.
And you pull it down.
What the fuck?
It’s a fucking strap-on.
Your mouth hangs open in shock. Strange? Peculiar? Bizarre? Those words cannot describe the sheer astonishment you feel on what’s under her skirt. You try to say something, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your body freezes, unable to make sense of the black cock poking into your face, only shivering with what you’re unable to process. You’re supposed to be the one using a cock here!
Mina runs her hand in your hair, playing with locks and curls on your head. You hear a soft giggle from above, but your focus remains on her throbbing plastic cock. Images of what she could do with it flash into your head. You’re pinned against the door, defenseless, as her cock drills into your ass rhythmically. Wet clapping sounds echo through the room—might even leak out to the main office. Lube drips down your thighs onto the floor. The room reeks of sweat, sex, and your perfumes blended together. She gives your ass a slap, and your moan becomes a melody for the entire floor.
And more.
Your face is pressed onto her stack of documents on the table, body shaking with her cock splitting you open. A pool of cum sits at the door. You’re oversensitive from your first orgasm, but she keeps attacking your prostate with an unmatched precision. Sweat drips down your forehead, ruining the papers with your mark of submission. “Oh, you’re ruining the next meeting’s plans!” Mina chides, without any signs of halting her barrage. She’s just wasting papers printing these out.
And more. This is just embarrassing, staring at her cock and imagining how it could ruin you into a slut.
Your leg is raised in the air. It’s for easier access, Mina said—should’ve kept yourself more flexible. Another pool of cum sits under her desk, not as much as the one at the door, sadly. Mina thrusts into you relentlessly, nails digging into your skin. Your face is pressed against the window, all visible for the workers going home to see. It creaks slightly with her motion. “I’m going to clean my window with your cum, well, if you’re not drained yet at this point.”
You’re fucked.
“Do you think black fits me? I’m pretty bad with colors, so I’d like some external inputs.”
And why the fuck are you still hard?
You look up at her, finding a smile so full of kindness—the kind of smile parents use to assure their children. It’s supposed to be warm. It’s supposed to be calming, but you’re fucking certain that there’s nothing but sin in her heart—lust with a tinge of pride, to be more specific.
“I’ll take that as a yes, glad that you love it,” Mina says, ruffling your hair softly. You just can’t process this anymore—so foolish with human dynamics. Your control is demolished the instant that her cock springs free, imagining the ways she can ruin you—against the door, on the table (on top of that, her meeting documents), against the window, cock dangling pathetically and giving everybody below a free show.
Suddenly, she grips a handful of your hair, not harsh, but effectively locking your eyes on hers. She leans in a little closer. You can see the small wrinkles under her eyes, the small pimples on her forehead, the streak on her lips. Her minty breaths brush against your face. It makes her more human, less of a Hel. Somehow, though, that just makes her more terrifying.
Humans shouldn’t be capable of wielding this kind of terror.
“So, I have lube under my desk, just for cases like this. Off-document disciplinary sessions, you know?” Mina says with a chuckle, eyes so full of faux-compassion. “Although I’m in the mood for trying something new.”
You can only gulp. Mind races with the possibilities of how she’ll make your ass ready for her cock. Honey? Vaseline? Condensed milk? A bead of sweat falls down from your forehead. Your body trembles in her hold. The scent of her body overwhelms you. You can’t think straight anymore.
“I did say that you possess a lot of tangible qualities, right?”
You sheepishly nod, barely prepared for her next words. It’s just all dread, no room for any levity.
“Well, there’s one thing that has been an ongoing problem with you” — and she leans closer to your ears, still on the desk — “you just don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
The realization hits.
You are a bitch. All this time, you’ve been a foul-mouthed fucker who’s practically begging to be put in his place. Everybody has grown tired of you, but no one dared to take any action. Those boundary breaches, those uncalled-for teases, those flirty incitements, they were tabbed. And now, it’s time for you to pay it up.
“Therefore, you and your mouth need to be taught a lesson, one that’s going to stick.”
Mina gets down from her table, standing up straight—resolute. Her white top hangs open, all unbuttoned, but still as classy as always. Her black, artificial cock stands tall, ready to take on your fuckholes without any mercy.
“Kneel, please.”
Trembling, you get up from the chair. You’re a little taller than her, but that means nothing with her having everything in her hand like this. You feel reluctant to get down; a part of you hasn’t given up yet.
But an order is an order.
You sink to your knees, her throbbing cock in your face. It’s so close. The scent of her perfume and sweat wafts into your nose. Your hands tremble. Your body shakes with dread. Your stomach churns.
You’re hard, though.
“Open your mouth.”
Your lips part slightly, barely ready for her relentless violation. She grabs a handful of your hair with one hand, the other aiming her cock towards your mouth. Your mouth quivers in fear. The air is thick with anticipation—the way she’s going to feel in your mouth, the way it’s going to hit the back of your throat, the way that you might cum pitifully from sucking her cock alone.
You flinch at the first touch of her tip on your lips. It’s so cold, so synthetic. Mina pushes it inside further, parting you more. Your body writhes as her width spreads your mouth out. It’s so big. Too big. The air becomes her—her sweat, her perfume, her cock. You feel nauseous from the revolting taste of plastic. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever savored. Consider it a new experience. She pushes more, and it’s starting to trigger your gag reflex. You spasm uncontrollably, making retching sounds in your throat. This is too much for you, but there’s still a few centimeters left. She drills it in, and her cock begins to stretch out the back of your throat. She’s just too big for you. Your hands seek grips by your side. You settle on her thighs. Your eyes flutter. You can’t breathe. Fuck. And with one final push, she’s at the hilt. Your throat is fucking ruined. The sound of your breath against her body rings in your ears.
Fuck.
You’re just a toy for her now.
“How was it?” Mina scoffs, running her fingers through your hair. You try to focus on her eyes, but her cock is buried so deep in your mouth it robbed a handful of your senses away—vision included. So, you just give her thighs a few squeezes.
Mina giggles, relishing in the scene of her employee getting his mouth fucked out like this. “Oh, I don’t know morse code, baby. I think you’ll have to use your mouth.”
Of course, she presses you harder into her cock.
Your body writhes violently in her hold. You can’t breathe on her hips. Your eyes are fluttering, and they’re getting all teary. You’re just a lump of flesh, begging to be used and abused.
Suddenly, she lets go. Your head springs off, nape landing on the chair’s edge. It stings, but that can’t compare to the happiness you feel when a puff of air hits your lungs again. A relieved smile escapes your lips. You look up into Mina’s eyes. She smirks, and they’re still gleaming with feigned compassion. Drool falls off your lips onto your clothes, onto the floor. You’re a mess. It’s all dirty, but that’s the last of your priorities.
“Sorry, didn’t see my cock in your mouth earlier,” she says, smiling shyly.
You say nothing, still trying to catch your breath. Your heart races in your chest. Your body aches with humiliation. The synthetic taste of her cock lingers in your mouth, and you’re sure that you’re going to remember this for a long time.
Mina squats down, hand reaching out for your lips. You can only smile wearily against the chair, mind all scattered. She wipes the mess on your lips away, cleaning your face with her delicate hand. For one second, it feels so soothing, and you think that it’d be better if this is genuine. You can feel your smile widening, face shifting closer towards her fingers, nuzzling against them. It’s just so affectionate that you forget how she fucked your face mere seconds ago.
You hear Mina chuckle. It’s probably amusing her to see her boytoy loving her touches like this. She continues to wipe the remnants of spit off your face like a baby. No chastising. No mocking. Just pure warmth. Each stroke only makes you sink deeper into comfort that you forget you’re going to be facefucked by her in just a minute. You just try to cling on to something, and there’s nothing wrong with it.
Oh, she just broke you into pieces.
Finally, she lets go of your face, leaving you cold on the floor again. Your head rests against the chair—spent. Your spasms subside as your body finally finds its rhythm once more. Your breathing comes back to normal.
Mina smiles, before asking, “What do good boys say after they get something?”
“Thank you.” It slips off your debauched lips so easily.
“Thank you, who?” She presses into the tip of your nose lightly with a smile that just makes you melt.
“Thank you, Miss Myoi!”
The answer brings out a chuckle from Mina’s lips. She just looks so happy. “Ah, you’re close! Again, thank you, who?”
This isn’t just a quick patch, it’s a whole revamp on your brain.
“Thank you, mommy!”
It plagues your veins. It’s buried in your heart. It’s tattooed on your skin—permanent.
“Good boy.” She smiles, and you earn another ruffle in your hair.
There’s no coming back from this.
“Now, I’m going to stand up, alright? Don’t worry, mommy’s not going anywhere,” Mina says, cupping your cheek.
“Yes, mommy,” you reply, nuzzling and whimpering against her palm.
The comfort on your face is short-lived as she stands up, and you can only whine in disappointment. She towers over you once more. Her cock dangles just a few centimeters away from your face, so slick with your filthy drool. It wants you to suck again, suck on it until your mommy cums, and you’re ready to have your breath taken away for her pleasure.
Voice still honeyed, Mina says, “Time to get up, baby boy. Time to put that mouth to use.”
In a haste, you get up to your knees again. The synthetic smell of her cock hits your nose, but you don’t feel so disgusted by it like you did mere minutes ago. Instead, you part your lips instinctively, becoming a willing boytoy for her. Your eyes look up into Mina’s eyes, begging her to bury her cock in your mouth.
“Aw, I’m so proud of you. You’re such a perfect slut for mommy, ready to suck my cock like this,” Mina praises, pushing herself forward. A smile escapes your eager lips. You’re so close to feeling her again.
She grabs a handful of your hair, a little lighter than last time, and she guides you towards her cock. You stretch your mouth wider, readying yourself for her crushing width. Your throat relaxes. You’re going to take all of her in your mouth like a good little slut.
“Say ah,” Mina tells you.
“Ah …”
Your body doesn’t jolt the instant her tip touches your lips. You’re doing better. Her cock invades more and more of your mouth, filling it with its plastic taste, poking the back of your throat. Your body begins to shake as your breathing becomes difficult. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. The scent of her perfume and her cock fill your nostrils. And in a heartbeat, you take all of her.
At the hilt, you can barely breathe. Your eyes flutter with the overwhelming size of her cock. You can only cling on to her thighs pathetically. Her nails bury deep in your hair. The feeling, though, it’s neither rejection nor disdain. It’s acceptance and pride. You’re at peace with how your body was made for her cock. You’re at peace with how you were born to be her slut.
And you couldn’t be happier.
Suddenly, the grip in your hair tightens, making you wince around her cock in pain. Your toe curls at the nerve-snapping sensation. Your fingers dig into her thighs. She begins to grind her hips against your face. Your throat makes guttural, animalistic sounds as her tip grinds the back of it. You’ve never heard that before. Your eyes quiver with the rolling of her hips. Everything is so blurry now. Tears form in your eyes. Your nose gets squished on her waist as she moves. Your lungs are begging for air, but it's so hard to breathe. It’s suffocating. You panic.
“What’s the matter, baby boy? Can’t breathe?” Mina asks, voice so fucking full of smugness. The answer is up for your grasp, if not for the black plastic cock stuffing your mouth like this.
She continues to grind her hips against your mouth, fucking your face at a tempo only she can hear. Your breathing remains lacking in any kind of rhythm.
Someone’s probably into it.
But not you.
Oh, and she just moaned for the first time in the evening. She grinds herself deeper, having that G-spot pleasured at a little cost of silencing that trigger-happy mouth.
“Your lack of manners won’t be tolerated, baby boy. You don’t let the adults do the talking alone.” Mina scolds, but her hips remain pressed against your ruined, spit-soaked face. She moans again, finally getting the insides of her properly fucked. The scents of her and plastic consume you like a hypnosis. She’s fucking your face, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Thankfully, she pushes your head back, leaving just her tip resting inside your mouth, and you know damn well enough to take a deep breath. It smells disgusting, blighting your lungs and blood vessels with a scorching plague, but it’s better than suffocation. Spit coats her cock, glistening it under the evening sunlight. It drips down to the floor—the first mark of filth in this office. Your eyes shoot up to Mina, who’s still giving you an infuriatingly warm smile.
She just won’t let you go so easily.
Mina laughs, still manages to keep that kind-and-loving façade after fucking your mouth open.
Twice.
She squints as she smiles, pulling your cheeks lovingly like you’re a child. Your body is still spasming, throat fucked-out. Your vision is all blurry with your tears. Your lips quiver against the head of her cock. Though, if she revels in having you like this, who are you to argue?
“That was so great, baby. Mommy’s gonna cum if you keep this up,” Mina praises, ruffling your hair fondly. You can feel warmth glowing around her body again. You know it’s a devious manipulation. You’re not supposed to fall for it, but your heart has already yielded, “and you’re going to be a cock-drunk mess by the time we’re done. How does that sound? Do you wanna make mommy cum?”
Your breathing slowly stabilizes. Your sight becomes clearer. It’s coming back. It’s your brief reprieve, and you’re cherishing every second of it, knowing how Mina can just rob it in a matter of seconds. She meets your gaze, anticipating an answer. The thought of your throat being used vigorously shouldn’t entice you this much. But with your cock twitching in your pants like this, you can only do the best you can—a whimper.
“Aw, you’re so cute!” Mina says, pouting, pulling on your cheeks again. It’s so affectionate, so blissful, and suddenly, you feel safe with her once more. You nuzzle against her soft palm feebly, letting out a string of whimpers against the tip of her cock. The smell of the office’s hand soap fills your nostrils. Your toes are still twitching softly in the aftershocks. The remnants of her skull-fucking linger in your bones, reminding you of the woman you belong to.
“Now, say the magic word first, and I’ll fuck that mouth of yours.” Mina coos, hand cupping your cheeks. Her skin still feels so smooth against your face, so warm.
Your mind blanks against her cock. What’s the magic word?
Mina seems to notice, letting out a soft chuckle as your brain goes into request timeout. “When good boys want something, what do they say?”
Oh, that word.
“Please?”
“Please, who?” she presses. She needs you to say it. It is just overkill at this point, but you’re too broken for any kind of resistance.
“Please, mommy!”
Mina’s smile grows, satisfied with you. “Good boy!” she says, and she lets her hand run through the locks and curls of your hair. She feels how your hair brushes against her skin. She feels your warmth in her hand. She feels how you’re awfully, utterly fucking hers.
And here comes another afterlife-teasing session.
She grabs your hair—not painful, not nerve-snapping, but enough to yank your head back and forth. Your mouth is stretched open by her cock, as she ravishes your throat again. You’re pushed against her hips, forehead pressing on her taut stomach, hands gripping on her thighs. Your body convulses, fighting for air as your nose inhales nothing but the synthetic smell of her cock. Your toes curl in your shoes. Your knees hurt. Your eyes flutter. It’s a physical struggle.
But a mental nirvana.
With her cock, it’s not an immediate fondness. The shock of seeing that strap for the first time still lingers in your head, if faintly. But with how she just slowly breaks you down from that point, it’s calculated. It’s masterful. Your brain fully knows that it’s a manipulation, a slow, torturous one, but your heart just can’t resist. The way she takes control of your head, the way her cock stabs the back of your throat, the way she praises you and degrades you, they’re just irresistible.
In short, you’re her nasty little slut.
“So hungry for mommy’s cock, aren’t you?” Mina asks, pressing you firmly against her leather. Her cock is already poking the back of your throat. It’s activating your gag reflex over and over. You make bestial, pornographic noises from your vocal chords. They echo in your ears, displacing the silence in the room, and it just fills you with an insurmountable amount of dread.
And she pulls back, leaving just the tip resting between your swollen lips. More drool falls to the floor. Your body trembles. Your toe curls. Your stomach churns.
“Look up here. I wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you.”
You struggle to meet her eyes, still fluttering in the mind-breaking sensations, so she tips your chin up slightly. And when you find her gaze, it’s still so full of that deceitful kindness. There’s comfort to it, just that her actions are a tad violent.
“Making eye contact with the people you talk to is important, you know? It would show that you’re giving your attention to them,” Mina says, and you just whimper feebly as a response.
“Oh, yes, fucking your mouth. Totally forgot about that.”
She plunges her length into you, stretching those cock-craving lips open. You flinch slightly. No throat poking this time, and you don’t gag as much as you did. Your grips on her thighs relax, not digging so deep as before. And she pulls back. Breathing becomes easier like this, small margin, but anything is better than suffocation. You do your absolute best to keep your eyes on hers. Another thrust, another recoil, and Mina begins to moan.
Your mouth can be used for good, after all.
She probably finds that it would be a little bullshit to start slow, considering that she pressed your face against her waist more than twice. That’s the tempo. She yanks your head back and forth around her cock, and she’ll moan every time it stretches your mouth open—so raw, so guttural.
You wince every time she thrusts her length into your pesky mouth, but you’re adjusting to it. It’s like you have a choice, after all. You’re living with it. You place your tongue on the underside of her cock, trying not to resist, trying to make it easy for the two of you. Your hands slide up her thighs, making her moans grow louder.
“Should’ve known how to shut your fucking mouth earlier, because, god, you’re such a perfect cocksleeve,” Mina says, voice cracking a little. She’s getting weaker. She’s getting lost in pleasure, but you just can’t do shit about that—too busy sucking fake dick overtime, at least you get money for this. “Two birds with one stone, you know? Just one cock for you to shut the fuck up and for me to cum.”
You whimper weakly against her length, attempting to keep that precious eye contact. It’s hard, though, when she just keeps yanking your head back and forth like this. Your hands slide towards her backside, finding that plump, muscular ass you were dying to clap your thighs against (well, before an executive decision says that your mouth looks better when fucked).
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. I do jump squats,” Mina huffs between the filthy moans. Your spit is out of control at this point. An entire pool forms in the suffocating space between you and her—a mark of your submission. You make desperate gagging sounds against her length. The plastic taste of it fills your mouth. Your air is her. Just her—her sweat, her plastic cock, her perfume. You fight through your tears to look her in the eyes. Oh, and it’s fucking beautiful.
Everything is fucking beautiful.
Mina’s moans begin to climb the scale. Her grip on your hair tightens, yanking you harsher than ever. Her ass clenches in your palms. Her breathing quickens. A bead of sweat falls on your head. This is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for—from the first moment you see her strap, from the first throat fucking, from the first utterance of ‘mommy’. Myoi Mina, your boss, your mommy, your fucking everything, is going to cum from fucking your face.
Put it in your résumé: Myoi Mina’s whore.
It begins with how her body stiffens, with a loud, guttural groan that escapes her mouth. You are at the tip of her cock, and you should’ve expected her to push you onto her hips, to feel her rhythm, her trembling, her unravelling. Air is knocked out of your lungs at the instant your nose is pressed against the leather. Her body arches, half-collapsing onto the edge of her desk. She can barely hold it together. Your lips are stretched around the base of her strap, savoring that disgusting plastic taste. Her ass tightens in your hands. Your gagging sounds blend with her moans. Everything is exploding.
A fracture appears. Mina’s eyes flutter in the wake of her ecstasy. Her head falls backwards as she buries herself in your face through her high. She’s lost. She’s lost in the pleasure, succumbing to the sweetness of her orgasm. It’s a reminder of her mortality. She’s not a goddess. She’s vulnerable. She can break, just like you.
But god, you would trade everything if it means that you are hers. Plus, two jobs at a single company—UI designer and your boss’ slut.
HRs love it.
It abates, eventually. Mina catches her breath quickly, gazing down at you to watch her own destruction. Your face remains stuck to her hips, head tilting to the side just a little to gather that treasured air into your lungs. You shake, aftershocks linger. Your hands are pressed between her ass and the table. She looks at you, smiling, so proud of you. Her hands run through your hair one last time, feeling the mess she made, before dragging you off her cock. Spit falls to the ground, but you’re too exhausted to care. You get a good look at her—her eyes, her smile. She’s satisfied. She’s fulfilled. All because of you.
“You did so well for mommy,” Mina says, voice cracking a little. She cups your face lovingly, and you can’t help but to nuzzle against her palm, letting out a soft whimper. She just feels so warm, and you figure you must cling to her. You must cling to her for your dear life. “We’re halfway there already.”
counts: ~4,300 words
tags: fluff, passionate, cowgirl, standing sex, oral play, missionary, etc.
You come home after a long, shitty day at work. Your boss yelled at you for no reason, the traffic was a nightmare, and your head is pounding like a drum.
You slam the door a bit too hard, tossing your keys on the table. The apartment smells like fresh food—Chaeyeon must be cooking again. She's always doing that, trying to make things better for you.
"Hey, babe," her voice calls from the kitchen. It's soft and warm, like a hug. You walk in and there she is, your girlfriend Chaeyeon, stirring something on the stove.
She's wearing a tight tank top that hugs her big, busty chest, and those short shorts that show off her curvy hips and thick thighs. Her long black hair is tied back, and she turns to you with that bright smile. "Rough day? You look like you need to unwind."
You nod, dropping into a chair. "Yeah, it sucked. Everything went wrong. I just want to forget about it."
She turns off the stove and comes over, her hips swaying as she walks. Chaeyeon's body is all curves—big tits that strain against her top, a round ass that you can't keep your eyes off, and that soft belly that feels so good when you hold her.
She slides onto your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck. Her warmth presses against you, and you can feel her heavy breasts against your chest. "Tell me about it," she says, kissing your forehead. "I'm here for you. Let it all out."
You sigh, your hands automatically going to her waist. "The meeting was a disaster. My ideas got shot down, and then the client called screaming. I feel like quitting."
"Aw, baby," she murmurs, her fingers running through your hair. "You're so smart and hardworking. They don't deserve you. But you know what? You're home now. With me. Let me help you relax." She shifts on your lap, grinding a little, and you feel yourself getting hard already.
Chaeyeon notices and giggles. "See? Your body's already unwinding."
You chuckle weakly. "You're too good to me, Chae."
She leans in, her lips brushing your ear. "That's what girlfriends are for. Now, come on. Dinner can wait. Let's go to the bedroom." She stands up, taking your hand, and pulls you along. Her ass bounces with each step, and you follow like a puppy.
In the bedroom, she pushes you onto the bed gently. "Lie down," she says. "Let me take care of you." You do as she says, watching as she peels off her tank top.
Her massive tits spill out, nipples already hard and pink. They're so full and heavy, jiggling as she moves. "Like what you see?" she teases, cupping them in her hands.
"Fuck yes," you say, your voice rough. "You're perfect."
She smiles and climbs onto the bed, straddling you. Her curvy body hovers over yours, and she starts unbuttoning your shirt. "I love making you feel better. Remember last week when you were stressed? I sucked you off until you forgot your own name." Her hands slide down to your pants, unzipping them. "Want that again?"
You groan as she pulls out your cock, already throbbing. "God, Chae, yes. But I want more. I want all of you."
She strokes you slowly, her soft hand gripping tight. "Mmm, tell me what you need. Use your words, babe."
"I need to fuck you," you say, reaching up to squeeze her tits. They're so soft, overflowing in your palms. "I need to bury myself in your pussy and forget everything."
Chaeyeon moans softly at your touch. "Yeah? You want this wet pussy? It's all yours." She stands up briefly, shimmying out of her shorts. No panties underneath—her shaved pussy is glistening, lips puffy and ready. Her thighs are thick, rubbing together as she moves. "See how wet I am for you? Just thinking about helping you unwind gets me like this."
She climbs back on, positioning herself over your cock. "Ready?" she asks, her eyes locked on yours.
You nod.
She sinks down slowly, her tight heat enveloping you inch by inch. "Oh fuck, you're so big," she gasps, her big tits bouncing as she adjusts. "Fills me up perfect." She starts moving, up and down, her curvy ass slapping against your thighs. The room fills with wet sounds and her moans.
You grab her hips, thrusting up to meet her. "That's it, Chae. Fuck, you feel amazing."
"Tell me more," she pants, grinding her clit against you. "What else happened today? Let it out while I fuck you."
You laugh breathlessly. "The traffic... ah, shit... some idiot cut me off. Almost crashed."
"Poor baby," she coos, leaning down so her tits press against your chest. She kisses you deep, tongue sliding in. "But now you're inside me. Doesn't that feel better?"
"Hell yes," you say, flipping her over suddenly. Now you're on top, pounding into her. Her legs wrap around you, her curvy body jiggling with each thrust. "You're my everything, Chae. Always there for me."
She arches her back, moaning loud. "Yes, yes! Fuck me harder. Use me to unwind. Cum inside me if you want."
You speed up, the bed creaking. Her pussy clenches around you, so wet and hot. "I'm close," you warn.
"Me too," she whimpers. "Oh god, right there. Your cock is hitting my spot."
You reach down, rubbing her clit. "Cum for me, baby."
She screams your name, her body shaking as she orgasms. Her tits heave, and her pussy milks you tight. That's all it takes—you explode inside her, filling her up with hot cum.
You collapse beside her, both panting. She cuddles into you, her soft curves molding against your body. "Feel better?" she asks, tracing circles on your chest.
"Yeah," you say, kissing her forehead. "You always know how to fix me."
But the night isn't over. After a few minutes, Chaeyeon sits up, her tits still flushed. "Want a shower? I can wash you... and maybe more."
You grin. "Lead the way."
In the bathroom, steam fills the air as the water runs hot. Chaeyeon steps under the spray first, her body glistening. Water runs down her big breasts, over her curvy belly, and between her thighs. "Come in," she says, beckoning.
You join her, pulling her close. "You're insatiable."
"For you? Always." She grabs the soap, lathering up her hands. "Let me clean you." She starts with your chest, then lower, stroking your cock until it's hard again. "Oops," she says innocently. "Look what happened."
You push her against the wall, lifting one of her thick legs. "My turn to take control."
She gasps as you slide back into her. "Yes, fuck me standing. Pound my pussy."
The water makes everything slippery, her ass pressing back against you as you thrust deep. "You love this, don't you?" you growl.
"I love you," she moans. "Love being your slutty girlfriend. Use me anytime."
You fuck her harder, her tits slapping wetly. Dialog flows between thrusts: "Tell me you're mine," you say.
"All yours," she replies. "My big tits, my ass, my tight cunt—yours to unwind with."
You cum again, this time pulling out to shoot on her belly. She rubs it in, smiling. "Mmm, love your cum."
After the shower, you both dry off and head back to bed. Chaeyeon curls up naked beside you, her head on your chest. "Talk to me," she says softly. "What's really bothering you? Work's not everything."
You open up more, telling her about your fears of failing, of not being good enough. She listens, nodding. "Babe, you're amazing. I've seen you overcome so much. Remember when you lost that job last year? You bounced back stronger. And I'll always be here, supporting you. Through the bad days and the good."
Her words warm you inside. "What did I do to deserve you?"
She laughs. "Just be you. Now, let's plan something fun. Weekend getaway? Just us, no stress."
You talk late into the night, her curvy body pressed close. She shares her day too—how she missed you, thought about you while shopping for lingerie. "Want to see?" she asks, jumping up to model a new set. It's red lace, barely containing her busty figure.
"Damn, Chae," you say. "You're killing me."
She poses, twirling. "For you to unwind in. Anytime."
The night ends with slow, gentle sex—missionary, face to face, lots of kisses and whispers. "I love you," you say as you cum together.
"I love you too," she replies, holding you tight.
As you drift off, you feel truly unwound. Chaeyeon's always there, your rock, your lover, your everything. Tomorrow will be better because of her.
You come home late one night, the weight of the world crushing you. Work was a total shitshow—deadlines missed, arguments with coworkers, and your boss dumping more crap on your plate. Your mind's racing, muscles tense like steel cables. You need release, something to drown out the noise.
Chaeyeon greets you at the door, her curvy body wrapped in a loose robe that barely hides her big tits and thick hips. Her long hair's down, framing her pretty face, and she pulls you into a hug right away.
"Babe, you look wrecked," she says, her voice full of concern. She presses her busty chest against you, soft and warm. "What happened? Tell me everything."
You bury your face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. "Just... everything. I can't even think straight. I need you, Chae. Badly."
She tilts your chin up, her eyes searching yours. "I'm here. Always. What do you need? A massage? Food? Or..." She smiles knowingly, her hand sliding down to your crotch, feeling the tension there. "Something more intimate?"
You grab her hand, guiding it firmer. "I want to eat you out. Lose myself in you. Taste every part of your pussy until I forget my name."
Her cheeks flush, but she nods eagerly. "Mmm, yeah? You wanna devour me? I'm all yours. Let's go to the couch—more room to spread out." She leads you to the living room, shedding her robe on the way.
Naked now, her body on full display: massive breasts swaying, nipples perky from the cool air, her curvy waist leading to wide hips and that plump ass you love grabbing. Between her thick thighs, her pussy peeks out—shaved smooth, lips already a bit swollen from anticipation.
You push her gently onto the couch, her legs parting as she leans back against the cushions. "Lie back, baby," you say, your voice rough with need. "Let me see all of you."
Chaeyeon bites her lip, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy opens up like a flower, pink and glistening. The outer lips are full and puffy, framing the inner folds that are slick with her arousal.
You kneel between her thighs, your hands on her knees, pushing them farther apart. "God, look at you," you murmur. "So wet already. I haven't even touched you."
She giggles softly, her big tits rising with her breath. "Thinking about you stressing out... it turns me on, knowing I can fix it. Touch me, babe. Play with my pussy. Make it yours."
You lean in closer, your breath hot on her skin. Her scent hits you—musky and sweet, making your mouth water. You start slow, your fingers tracing the outer lips first. They're soft, plump, yielding under your touch as you spread them gently. "These folds... so perfect," you say, your voice low. "I love how they hide your secrets."
Chaeyeon moans, her hips shifting. "Tease me more. Describe it. I love hearing you talk dirty."
You oblige, your thumb circling the hood of her clit without touching it yet. It's swollen, peeking out like a little pearl. "Your outer lips are so thick, Chae. They feel like velvet. And inside..." You dip a finger along the inner folds, slick with her juices.
They're delicate, ruffled edges quivering as you stroke them up and down. "These inner ones are all pink and wavy, like petals. Wet as fuck. I can see your hole clenching already, begging for attention."
"Oh shit," she whispers, her hand reaching down to tangle in your hair. "Keep going. Eat me now. I need your tongue."
You can't wait anymore. You dive in, your tongue flat and broad, licking from her entrance up to her clit in one long stroke. Her taste explodes—tangy, salty-sweet, coating your mouth. "Fuck, you taste amazing," you groan against her. "Like honey mixed with sin."
Chaeyeon arches her back, her curvy body trembling. "Yes! Lick my folds, babe. Every one."
You focus on the details, savoring her. Your tongue traces the outer lips first, lapping at the smooth skin, sucking gently on one side then the other. They puff up more under your attention, warm and slick. Then you move inward, flicking along the ruffled inner folds. They're so sensitive—she gasps each time you swirl around them, teasing the edges where they meet her entrance. You spread her wider with your fingers, exposing every crease, every hidden spot. "These little folds here," you say between licks, "they're so responsive. Twitching when I touch them."
"Mmm, don't stop," she pants, her thick thighs squeezing your head lightly. "Play with my clit too. Suck it."
You obey, your lips closing around her clit. It's hard now, throbbing as you suckle it gently, then harder. Your tongue flicks the tip while your fingers explore lower, dipping into her hole just enough to feel it pulse.
Juices drip down your chin, and you lap them up greedily, tracing back along her perineum before returning to her folds. You use your fingers to part the inner lips fully, revealing the glossy pink inside, and you tongue-fuck her shallowly, feeling the walls clench.
Chaeyeon’s moans fill the room, raw and needy. "Babe, that’s it! Finger me while you eat. Stretch my pussy."
You slide two fingers in, curling them against her G-spot as your mouth works her clit and folds. Her body jiggles—big tits bouncing, curvy belly quivering. "You’re so tight," you say, pulling back for a breath. "These walls gripping me. And your folds... I could play with them all night." You nibble lightly on the inner ones, tugging with your lips, then soothe with long licks.
She grabs her own breasts, squeezing them hard. "I’m close already. Your mouth feels so good. Tell me how much you love it."
"I fucking love your pussy, Chae," you growl, diving back in. "Every fold, every drop. It’s my escape." You alternate: sucking her clit, tracing folds with your tongue, fingering deep. Her hips buck, grinding against your face.
"Yes, yes! Eat it raw, babe. Make me cum on your tongue."
You intensify, your free hand playing with her outer lips, pinching and rubbing while your mouth devours the inner ones. She cries out, her body convulsing as orgasm hits. Juices flood your mouth, sweet and abundant, and you drink it all, licking every fold clean as she shakes.
After, she pulls you up, kissing you deeply, tasting herself. "Holy shit, that was intense," she says, breathless. "You really needed that, huh? Feel better?"
You nod, still hard and aching. "A bit. But I’m not done with you yet."
She smiles wickedly, her curvy form glistening with sweat. "Good. Because I want you inside me now. Fuck the stress out."
You flip her onto her hands and knees, her plump ass up, pussy still dripping. "Look at that view," you say, spanking her lightly. "Ass so round, pussy still swollen from my mouth."
Chaeyeon wiggles back. "Take it. Pound me until you’re empty."
You thrust in deep, her heat enveloping you. The rhythm builds—hard, fast, her moans mixing with yours. "Tell me about your day," she says between thrusts. "Let it out while you fuck me."
You do, ranting about the bullshit at work as you grip her hips, watching her tits swing. She listens, encouraging: "That’s right, babe. Use my body. I’m your stress reliever."
It goes on—positions change: her riding you, tits in your face; then missionary, legs over your shoulders. Dialog flows: "Deeper," she begs. "Fill me up." You cum hard inside her, collapsing together.
Later, cuddled naked, she strokes your back. "Better now?" she asks softly.
"Yeah," you admit. "You always know how to unwind me."
She kisses you. "That’s what I’m here for. Anytime you need to eat me out or anything else—I’m yours."
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on Chaeyeon's curvy body curled up against you. You wake up groggy, the stress from yesterday still lingering like a bad aftertaste. Your mind's already racing—emails to answer, meetings to prep for.
But Chaeyeon stirs, her warm, busty frame pressed tight against your side, one thick thigh draped over yours. Her big tits are squished against your arm, soft and heavy, and her hand lazily traces your chest.
"Morning, babe," she mumbles, her voice husky with sleep. She notices the tension in your jaw and props herself up on one elbow, her breasts swaying slightly. "You're still stressed, aren't you? I can tell." Her hand slides lower, grazing your stomach, then further down, finding you half-hard already. "Let me fix that before you face the day."
You groan softly, already feeling the heat building. "Chae, you don't have to—"
"Shh," she cuts you off, her lips curling into a naughty smile. "I want to. You need this." She shifts, her naked body sliding down the bed until her face is level with your cock. Her hair spills over your thighs, tickling your skin. "Look at you, already getting hard for me," she teases, her breath hot against you. "I love how your body reacts."
She starts with a kiss, soft lips pressing against the tip. "Mmm, morning wood's the best," she says, her tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up your shaft. You twitch, and she giggles. "Sensitive already? Good." Her hand wraps around the base, stroking gently as her mouth works the head, sucking lightly. Her big eyes lock onto yours, watching your reaction. "Tell me how it feels," she murmurs, her lips brushing your skin.
"Fuck, Chae, it's so good," you manage, your voice rough. "Your mouth's so warm."
She hums in approval, taking you deeper. Her lips stretch around you, wet and tight, as she bobs her head slowly. Her tongue swirls along the underside, teasing every inch. "I love sucking you off," she says, pulling back for a moment, a string of spit connecting her lips to your cock. "Makes me wet just hearing you moan." Her hand keeps stroking, slow and firm, while she talks. "You want me to keep going or switch things up?"
"Keep going," you say, gripping the sheets. "But I want your hands too. And… your tits."
Her eyes light up. "Oh, you're greedy this morning." She shifts, sitting up slightly, her massive breasts bouncing as she moves. She spits on her hand, slicking it up, and starts jerking you off with a steady rhythm. Her grip is perfect—tight but not too much, twisting slightly at the top. "Like this?" she asks, her thumb rubbing over the tip, spreading precum.
"Yeah, just like that," you groan, watching her curvy body in motion. Her tits jiggle with each stroke, and you can't take your eyes off them—full, round, with pink nipples hard from arousal.
She notices your stare and smirks. "You want these too, huh?" She leans forward, letting her breasts hang over your cock. "Let me give you a proper titjob." She presses her big tits together, trapping your cock between them. The softness is unreal, like sinking into warm pillows. She starts moving, sliding them up and down, her cleavage swallowing you whole. "Fuck, your cock looks so good between my tits," she says, her voice low and dirty. "So hard, all slick from my mouth."
You thrust up slightly, meeting her movements. "Goddamn, Chae, you're killing me. They're so soft."
"Thought you'd like that," she says, squeezing her breasts tighter around you. She sticks out her tongue, licking the tip of your cock each time it peeks out from her cleavage. "Tell me what's stressing you out. Let it go while I make you feel good."
You exhale hard, trying to focus. "Just… work again. Another deadline today. My team's slacking, and I'm carrying it all."
She slows her titjob, her hands still working your shaft between her breasts. "Babe, you're too good at your job to let this break you. You'll crush that deadline. And your team? They're lucky to have you." She speeds up again, her tits bouncing now, making wet sounds as they rub against your slick cock. "But right now, you're mine. Focus on me."
You do, your eyes locked on her body—her curvy waist, the way her thighs press together as she kneels over you, probably getting wetter by the second. "Chae, I need your mouth again," you say, voice strained.
She grins, releasing her tits and diving back down. Her lips wrap around you, sucking hard this time, her hand still jerking the base. She's messy now, spit dripping down your balls, her tongue working every sensitive spot. "Mmm, you taste so good," she slurs between sucks. "Cum in my mouth, babe. I want it."
You're close, the combination of her hand, her lips, and the memory of her tits pushing you to the edge. "Chae, I'm gonna—"
"Do it," she urges, pulling back just enough to stroke you fast, her lips parted, tongue out. "Cum all over my face if you want."
That sends you over. You explode, the first shot hitting her tongue, then more spilling across her lips and chin. She moans, pumping you through it, milking every drop. "Fuck, yes," she says, licking her lips clean, swallowing what she caught. "So much cum for me."
You collapse back, panting, the stress already fading. Chaeyeon crawls up, her busty body pressing against you as she kisses you softly. You taste yourself on her lips, and it's filthy but perfect. "Better now?" she asks, nuzzling your neck.
"Much," you say, pulling her close. Her big tits squash against your chest, and you feel her heartbeat. "You're too good to me."
"Nah," she says, tracing your jaw. "I just love you. And I love making you cum like that." She giggles, her hand drifting back down. "Want another round? I can ride you this time."
You laugh, already feeling your cock twitch again. "Give me five minutes. Then I'm fucking you senseless."
She grins, rolling onto her back, her curvy body spread out invitingly. "Deal. But don't keep me waiting too long."
You talk more as you catch your breath, her supportive words easing your mind. She tells you about her morning—how she was thinking of you while picking out a new bra, one she'll model for you later. "It's lacy and barely holds these," she says, cupping her tits playfully. "You'll love it."
The stress melts away, replaced by her warmth, her dirty talk, her love. Chaeyeon's your escape, your everything, and this morning proves it again.
It's finally your day off, a rare Saturday with no work, no emails, no bullshit. The stress of the past week is still there, but Chaeyeon's made it her mission to erase it entirely. You wake up to her soft lips kissing your neck, her curvy body already pressed against you, naked and warm under the sheets. Her big tits are squashed against your chest, her thick thighs tangled with yours. "Morning, babe," she whispers, her hand already teasing your cock, stroking slow. "No work today. That means I get you all day."
You grin, already hard. "All day? You sure?"
She laughs, climbing on top, her heavy breasts swaying. "Oh, I'll show you." She slides down onto you, her tight pussy taking you in one smooth motion. "Fuck, you're so hard already," she moans, starting to ride you, her ass bouncing against your thighs. "We're gonna fuck all day, babe."
And you do. The morning kicks off with her riding you until you both cum, her tits jiggling wildly, her dirty talk filling the air. "Fill my pussy," she begs, and you do, groaning as she milks you dry. After a quick breakfast—her in nothing but an apron, teasing you with flashes of her curvy ass—you bend her over the kitchen counter, fucking her hard while she grips the edge, moaning your name. "Harder, babe! Make me your slut all day!"
By noon, you're in the shower, her soapy tits pressed against you as she jerks you off, then drops to her knees for another blowjob, water cascading over her busty frame. "Cum on my face again," she says, and you paint her lips and chin, watching her lick it off with a grin.
The afternoon's a blur—doggy style on the couch, her thick thighs spread wide as you pound her, then missionary on the floor, her legs over your shoulders. "You love this pussy, don't you?" she pants, her folds glistening as you tease her clit between thrusts. "It's all yours." You lose count of how many times you cum, but she's insatiable, always ready for more, her curvy body your playground.
By evening, you're both spent, sprawled on the bed. She's cuddled against you, her big tits pressed to your side, one hand lazily stroking your softened cock. "Feel better now?" she asks, kissing your cheek. 'No stress left, right?"
You nod, pulling her closer. "You're fucking amazing, Chae. I don't know what I'd do without you."
She smiles, her eyes soft. "You don't have to find out. I'm here, always. Ready to fuck you silly or just hold you when you need it." She kisses you deeply, her tongue slow and sweet. "Today was perfect. Let's do it again tomorrow."
You laugh, already feeling lighter than you have in weeks. Chaeyeon's your everything—your lover, your escape, your home. The day ends with her in your arms, the stress long gone, replaced by her warmth and love.
You step out onto the balcony, the cool morning air brushing your skin.
Xinyu's already there, leaning against the railing, framed by the soft glow of the rising sun.
The city sprawls below, a quiet hum of life just waking up. She's wearing that thin, knotted creamy-white top, the one that clings just enough to hint at the curves beneath, her hair slightly messy from sleep.
She glances over her shoulder, catching your eye. "Morning, babe..." Her voice is low, a little husky, like she's still shaking off the night.
You squint, the sunlight sharp as it cuts through the horizon, and take a few steps toward her.
She's sipping coffee from a chipped mug, her lips curling into a small, lazy smile as you get closer.
"View's nice here," she says, nodding toward the skyline. Her eyes flick back to you, "Better now that you're up."
You lean on the railing next to her, close enough to feel her arm brushing against yours.
The city's waking up slow, cars crowding through distant streets. Up here, though, it's just the two of you.
"Could say the same," you murmur, glancing at her.
She's got that look, the one that makes your pulse kick up a notch, like she's daring you to make the next move.
Her fingers tap lightly on the mug, and you notice the way her nails are chipped, painted a white dope that's starting to fade.
She turns her body toward you, just enough that her hip grazes yours. "You gonna stand there squinting all morning, or you got something else in mind?" she is teasing you, testing the waters, seeing how far you'll push.
You smirk, stepping in closer, your hand finding the small of her back. Her top is freaky thin, and you can feel the heat of her skin underneath.
"Depends," you say, "What's on your mind?"
Her laugh is soft, almost a hum, and she sets the mug down on the railing, turning to face you fully. Her eyes lock on yours, and fuck, there's something in them, something that makes your blood hum.
"You know me..." she says, her fingers brushing against your chest, "I'm just enjoying the view... but I could be persuaded to enjoy something else."
Your hand slides lower, resting on her hip, and she doesn't pull away. Instead, she steps closer, her body pressing against yours, "We might not make it back inside," you say, your lips close to her ear.
She tilts her head, her breath warm against your neck. "Who says I want to go inside?"
Her fingers slip under your shirt, grazing your skin, and it's like a match striking. "Plenty of room out here, babe."
You pull her closer, and her lips crash into yours, hot, hungry, tasting faintly of coffee. She's not gentle, and neither are you, hands roaming, tugging at clothes, the railing digging into your back as she presses herself against you, your hands find the bare skin under her shirt.
"Fuck," she whispers, her voice rough as she pulls back just enough to look at you. "You're gonna get us in trouble."
You grin, your hands slipping lower, tugging at the waistband of her shorts. "You scared?"
Her laugh is sharp, almost a challenge, and she's kissing you again, harder this time, like she's trying to prove a point.
She pulls back just enough to look down, her hand brushing over the front of your pants, "My little man already hard down here?" she low teases glinting with mischiefs, her fingers graze your bulge, makes your breath catch.
You let out a low chuckle, trying to keep your cool, but it hard to think straight, "You'll find out just how hard he is right now,"
She laughs, that same sharp, daring sound, and her hand presses a little firmer, just enough to make you grit your teeth.
"Oh, bet," she murmurs, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.
She's close now, her body pressed against you, your hands move fast, one sliding up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, the other gripping her hip, pulling her tight against you.
"You're playing dirty," you say, lips brushing her ear, and you feel her shiver, just a little, before she leans into it.
"You like dirty work," she whispers back. Her fingers work at your belt now, slow and teasing. The metal clinks softly as she gets it undone, her nails scrape lightly against your skin as she tugs your pants down just enough.
You don't waste time either. Your hand slips under her shorts, finding smooth skin and the edge of her underwear. She gasps, soft but sharp, when your fingers brush against her, and her grip on you tightens.
"Fuck," she mutters, her voice breaking just a little, and you can tell she's not as in control as she's pretending to be.
"Thought you wanted to stay quiet," you taunt, your fingers moving slow, watching the way her eyes flutter half-closed, her lips parting as she tries to keep it together.
She bites her lip, "Shut it," and leans in, kissing you rough, all teeth and tongue. Her hands are on you now, no hesitation, stroking you through your pants, and it's your turn to groan into her mouth, she's pressing more herself against you like she can't get close enough.
"Fuck the quiet," she pants, pulling back just enough to look at you, her cheeks flushed, eyes wild. "You gonna fuck me out here or what?"
You don't need to be told twice. You spin her around, her hands bracing against the railing, her body arched just enough to make your head spin. Her shorts are down in a second, and you're right there with her, one hand on her hip, the other guiding yourself as she pushes back against you.
The first thrust makes her gasp, loud enough that you're half-sure someone below might hear, but you don't care. Not when she feels this good, tight and hot, her breath hitching with every move.
"Fuck, babe," she moans, her voice low and shaky, her hands gripping the railing so hard her knuckles are white.
You lean in, lips against her ear, "Thought you wanted this, didn't you? Out here where anyone could see?"
She laughs, breathless, and pushes back harder. "Fuck, yes," she says, her voice thick with want, "Don't stop," she breathes.
Her head tilts back, hair spilling over her shoulder, and you catch a glimpse of her face, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, a flush creeping down her neck. She looks wrecked in the best way, and it's got you burning hotter than you thought possible.
Your hand slides up her spine, fingers curling around the back of her neck, holding her steady as you pick up the pace.
"Fuck! fuck! yes! fuck me!" her moans louder now, reckless.
"You're gonna wake the whole damn city," you mutter, your lips brushing the shell of her ear, but there's no real warning in it, just hunger, because fuck, you love the way she sounds.
"Let 'em hear," she gasps, pushing back harder, her nails digging into the railing. "Let 'em know how good you're fucking me."
Her words fueling something, "Fuck... Xinyu!" you groan, low and rough, your grip tightening on her hip.
Your free hand slips around her front, finding her clit, and she jolts like she's been shocked, a sharp little cry escaping her lips.
"Fuck, yes! right there," she pants, her voice breaking as your fingers move, circling just the way she likes.
Her legs tremble, and you can feel her starting to unravel, her breaths coming faster, more uneven. "I'm so close, babe, don't you dare fucking stop."
You don't. You wouldn't even if the world was watching. Your thrusts get harder, faster, matching the desperate edge in her voice. The railing shakes under her grip, and for a split second, you wonder if it'll hold, "Fuck babe!!" but then she's moaning your name, loud and broken, and nothing else matters.
Her body tenses, a shudder running through her as she comes, "Fuck, I'm coming! I'm coming! fuck!!!" her walls tightening around you so hard, her cry echoes into the morning air, and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face. She's fucking shameless, and you love it.
You slow just enough to let her catch her breath, ride the pleasure, but you're not done. Your hand slides up to her chest, pulling her back against you, her body still trembling. "You good?" you murmur, your lips grazing her neck, tasting the salt of her skin.
She laughs, breathless and shaky, turning her head just enough to glance at you over her shoulder. "Fuck, I'm seeing stars, babe," she says, her voice hoarse.
"Good, I'm not coming yet," you say, and you're moving again, slower this time, dragging it out, making her feel every inch.
She whimpers, "Shit, oh my God..." she's oversensitive but still pushing back against you, like she can't get enough.
Your hands roam, one cupping her breast through her top, the other keeping her pinned against you, and she's melting into it, her body soft but still so fucking eager.
The sun's higher now, painting the sky in streaks of gold and pink, and you can see the sweat glistening on her skin, the way her chest heaves with every thrust. It's too much, the way she feels, the way she looks, the way she’s still talking dirty under her breath, urging you on like she's daring you to break her.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me come again," she moans, her voice slurring with pleasure, and you can feel it building in you too, that tight coil in your gut ready to snap.
You lean in, kissing her hard, messy, swallowing her moans as you push deeper, chasing that edge.
When it hits, it's like a fucking freight train. You bury yourself in her, groaning into her neck, "Fuckkk..." you come, spill inside her, your hands gripping her hips to keep you both steady.
She's right there with you, her body shaking through another wave, her nails scraping against the railing.
You both stay, panting, her body slumped against yours, the railing holding you both up. The city's louder now, horns, voices, the hum of life, but it's still just background noise.
She turns her head, catching your eye, and that lazy, satisfied smile spreads across her face, "Fuck," she says, still catching her breath. "That was worth waking up for."
You laugh, low and rough, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Yeah? You say that like we're done."
Xinyu's still catching her breath, her body pressed close, skin slick with sweat, her smile turns sly as she sinks to her knees on the balcony floor.
Her hands are on you before you can say a word, fingers wrapping around your still sensitive cock, slick from the both of you.
"Messy," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Let me clean you up, babe."
You lean back against the railing, the cool metal grounding you, she doesn't rush, her tongue darting out first, slow, licking along your length with a kind of focus that makes your knees weak.
"Fuck," you mutter, your hand instinctively finding her hair, fingers threading through the messy strands.
She hums, her lips close around the tip, sucking gently. Her tongue swirls, catching every bit of you, every trace of what you both just did.
It's intense, almost too much, the way she works you over, her eyes never leaving yours, like she's putting on a show just for you. Her hands grip your thighs, nails digging in just enough to keep you on edge.
"Goddamn, Xinyu," you groan, your voice rough, and she smirks around you, taking you deeper for a moment before pulling back, licking her lips like she's savoring the taste.
"Gotta make sure you're nice and clean," she says, her tone playful but laced with heat.
She runs her tongue along you one more time, slow, dragging it out, before she kisses the tip, and sits back on her heels. "There. All better."
You're still catching your breath, heart pounding, as she stands, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
She steps close again, her body brushing yours, and leans in, her lips grazing your ear. "Guess we should continue inside," she murmurs.
"Yeah," you're stealing one last moment with her against the railing.
Finally, she turns, grabbing her mug from the railing, and you follow her back inside, the door clicking shut behind you.
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