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Biggest Kinks: Everything About Anal, Squirt and Pee
Few Limits: Scat, Gore & Necrophelia
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It's April 5th, the second day of tripleS’ concert in Seoul was coming to an end. Soomin looked extra gorgeous today, her wavy black hair, the silver hoop earrings and bangle around her arm made her look mature and elegant. Which are things she's usually not described with, goofy and ‘why the fuck does she talk so much’ are more so the usual. Anyway, under that unusual front, there hides something deeper, something lewd. Everyone in the group knows about Yubin’s ‘Anal classes’ by now, Hayeon being the first student. Soomin, of course, heard from her same aged friend how incredible it was. “Soomin-ah, unnie stretched my butthole so carefully… made sure I wasn't in pain. Even ate out my pussy while fucking my butt with that dildo, and swallowed all my cum too. Yubin unnie is such a freak… in the best way!”
The thought of having her own lecture was on Soomin's mind 24/7 afterwards. Although never having indulged in the act of anal sex yet, she's been practicing with some toys by herself. A thin silicone dildo, which she picked up overseas on a little fun night out with the 07z. And Yubin’s gift for her 18th birthday, a crystal plug shaped in a heart, the gem tinted in her representative color. Soomin wore that plug almost every day for at least a couple hours, mostly during practice. She liked how it felt during dancing, how it moved inside her with every step. So naturally, she also was plugged during the whole duration of the concert. Her pussy was extremely wet by the end, a huge wet spot on her cute panties, luckily hidden by her loose pants. But her pussy wasn't the only hole that leaked, her plugged pucker also left a wet spot, although a lot smaller.
During the encore, Soomin shot a wink towards Yubin. She returned a knowing smile, pointing to her butt. Soomin smiled and nodded, wiggling her butt a little. Yubin gave her a thumbs up, the lesson set in stone. They gave the crowd a bow and left the stage, loud cheers and clapping echoes through the venue. Backstage most of the girls went straight to the snack bowl, munching away. Soomin on the other hand went to another room, waiting for her unnie. Yubin grabbed some “utensils” from her bag, always prepared for anal activities. She joined Soomin in the secluded room, smiling wide when opening the door. “Soomin-ah, you really couldn't wait until we're back in the dorms, huh?” Yubin chuckles, closing the door behind her and locking it. “Unnieeee, hehe… noooo, I'm too horny to wait.” she laughs, then biting her finger seductively. Yubin shakes her head, “Alright alright baby girl, what exactly do you want to learn today?” Soomin smiles mischievously, opening her legs and spreading them wide. “Well… Hayeon told me a lot about her last lesson with you aaaaaand… I want that, but more…” Yubin chuckles, “Ohhh, is that so? Are you sure you can handle that? Or better said, can that cute little butthole of yours handle that?” Soomin rolls her eyes, “Unnieeeee of course it can… also… I've come prepared, hehe.” Yubin raises one eyebrow, “Prepared? How so?” Soomin shuffles on the plush couch, shimmying down her black pants. “You remember what you gifted me on my 18th birthday?” Yubin nods, “Hehe, I had it in during the whole concert.”
Yubin’s eyes widened, smirking, “Oh did you, yea? You naughty girl…” Soomin giggles, her pants down to her ankles. She opened her legs again, the wet spot over her core unmistakable, “You weren't lying when you said you're too horny…” Yubin licked her lips while staring at the damp spot. Soomin scoots a little forward, angling her hips upwards. “That's not the only wet spot… hehehe.” Yubin gasps seeing the second spot, “Did you put too much lube in there orrrrr…” Soomin shakes her head, “Only a few little drops, that's all my juice, hehe” her hands wander down to her leaking holes, rubbing her clit through the soaked fabric and taking the base of the plug between her fingers, twisting and pulling it. “So eager… our little SoomSoom grew up so well.” Yubin gets on her knees before her, planting a soft kiss on Soomin's inner thigh. “Unnie… please train my hole nicely…” Yubin smirks and slowly nods, “Of course baby, but first let's get rid of these…” She hooks her fingers into the waistband of Soomin's panties, pulling them towards her ankles. One leg moves out of them, the drenched piece hanging around her right ankle. Yubin licks her lips, “Look at that… such a beautiful little pussy.” Soomin giggles shyly, “Manager-nim likes it too, hehehe.” Yubin’s finger trails down to the wet folds, softly grazing the outer lip. “Manager-him huh? No wonder he's always so happy seeing you. How often has he used this pretty thing? And did he fuck this hole too?” She grabs the plug, pressing it in further. Soomin moans, “mhmm… no… he hasn't… yet. That's why… I wanted… a lesson today… prepare me… for him.” Yubin lets out a soft chuckle, “Prepare you? Oh baby girl… say no more.”
Yubin leans in, her lips touching Soomin's dripping core. She kisses her engorged clit softly, then drags her tongue through the wet valley. Soomin whimpers and moans, “Oh fuck… unnie.” Her hands digging into the cushion, head falling back. “So delicious…” Yubin murmurs, still pulling and twisting on the plug. Then with a slow pull, the bulbous metal emerges. Soomin's pink ring stretched taut around it. With a wet pop, it plops out, leaving Soomin open and leaking. “Beautiful…” Yubin whispered before diving in tongue first, savoring the taste of Soomin's most private parts. Meanwhile Soomin already was on the verge of climax, “Unnie… I…I'm…I'm about to…c..cu..cum. “ Yubin smiles, reaching up to rub circles over her clit. “Cum for me, baby girl.” And so she did, her pussy clenched on nothing. A soft stream of clear fluid shooting out, hitting Yubin in the face. Once Soomin calmed down from her high, Yubin crawled up to her face. “Good girl…” she whispered, then crashed her slick covered lips on Soomin's. She melted into the kiss, tasting herself. Soomin broke off, “Unnie… that was… amazing.” Yubin laughs, “Oh baby, we haven't even started with the real training yet.” as she scoots off the couch, reaching for her bag. Yubin rummaged through her belongings, “Perfect!” She turned around, a pink 7 inch dildo in hand, around two fingers in girth. Soomin gasps, “Oh my… isn't that… big?” Yubin snorts, “Big? This? Oh no… this is tiny for me, but don't you worry, soon this will be nothing for you too.”
Yubin drags the silicone tip through Soomin's wet folds, slapping it softly against her clit. Soomin gasps, biting her lower lip. Once the dildo was nice and lubed up with Soomin's juices, Yubin pressed the tip against Soomin's pucker. “Are you ready, baby girl?” Soomin nods slowly, “Y..Yes, I think…” Yubin chuckles, applying more pressure. Soomin's rim still loosened from the plug, yields to the new intrusion easily. “Unnie, fuck…” she moans, toes curling. “Look at this greedy hole, swallowing this thing so eagerly.” With more pressure, another inch disappears into Soomin's depths. Yubin watches with a bright smile how the pink rubber stretches Soomin's ring of muscle. Meanwhile the younger girl is in bliss, eyes closed, mouth open, only faint moans to hear. “Doing so good, Manager-nim is gonna have so much fun with this hole.” Soomin smiles, “Yes… Daddy gonna breed my dirty hole… will be leaking his seed for days…” Yubin smirks, “Daddy, huh? I knew you'd be into that...” Soomin hides her face in embarrassment, “...but now let Mommy prepare you nicely.” and with that Yubin shoves the whole 7 inches into Soomin's colon. “Ahhhh, unn…” Yubin shushes her by putting her finger on her mouth, “Nuh uh, no more unnie. It's Mommy now!” Soomin nods, “oh.. oo.. ok, Mommy…”
Yubin removes her finger, trailing it down Soomin's chest between her petite breasts, then giving the soft globes a firm squeeze. With her left hand she's still pumping the dildo in a steady rhythm, making Soomin's pussy leak that delicious nectar. Yubin's right hand trails lower, over that cute tummy. Soomin giggles a little, “Unn… sorry, M.. Mo.. Mommy, that tickles!” Yubin locks eyes with her, “Still so cute even while getting your butt fucked… Daddy must go crazy with you, huh?” Soomin nods again, then her eyes roll back in her head when Yubin sucks her swollen clit into her mouth. “oh fuck… YES MOMMY!” Soomin yells, her fingers intertwining in Yubin's hair. “Mhmm… so delicious… fuck.” Yubin murmurs between sucks and slurps. Down below her movements grew faster, pumping the dildo in and out with more intensity. Soomin's legs began to shake, breathing becoming faster. “Mom… Mommy… I'm close…” Yubin moans, the vibrations sending pleasure through Soomin's spine. “Mhmmm, cum for Mommy, flood my mouth again!” Soomin's back arches like a bowstring, cupping her own breasts and pinching her nipples for more stimulation.
“I… I'M… I'M CUMMING, FUCKKK!!!” her body goes rigid as her pussy explodes into Yubin’s mouth. Her stuffed butthole flutters around the rubber cock before squeezing it out from the pressure of the intense climax. Yubin was too busy swallowing all of Soomin's girlcum as the dildo shoots out from her hole. The stretched rim throbs with each clench and breath of Soomin, leaking lube and her own juices onto the couch. After a minute of climaxing, Soomin finally began to calm down. Yubin releases her sensitive lips from her mouth with a wet pop. “Wow… that was a lot to swallow…” out of breath, Yubin licks her lips. Soomin laid limb on the couch, legs still twitching slightly. “Thank… you, Mommy…” she whispers, Yubin crawled up and pressed her lips on hers again. “No problem, baby girl, I'm here for you and the other girls, always happy to help with your anal needs.” Soomin giggles, “Oh, how does my butthole look? Is it ready for Daddy?” Yubin looks down at the still open and leaking hole, “Looks perfect, but you'll have to keep it plugged, don't want it to close again.” Soomin claps her hands and bounces up and down all happy, “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOUUUUU MOMMY!!!” Yubin gives her a snug hug, and whispers something into her ear, “Next time, we'll go bigger, okay?” Soomin freezes at the thought of her hole being stretched even further, but can't hide her excitement. “YESSSS! I can’t wait for Mommy to ruin my butthole more!” Yubin smiles, giving her ass a soft squeeze, “Good girl, now get freshened up before we head back to the dorms.” With that, Soomin quickly puts her clothes back on and leaves with a bright smile. “These girls are insane… my little anal fairies.” Yubin whispers to yourself while cleaning up the mess.
SYNOPSIS : I woke to my girl, Yooyeon, next to me while she was still a sleep. I realized it was Saturday, the start of our small 2 day vacation. Which made me recall what she said before, that if I ever caught her being lazy on her off day I could do anything I wanted. That's just how determine she was to achieve, and for me, I been having that ass on my mind.
MASTERLIST
1.6K WORDS
(P.S. Think of this as a tribute to, what I fear, this world has lost. Which is the beautiful ass of Kim Yooyeon, with her weight lost also there goes the perfect idol. The world has truly lost a gem🙏)
With a great opportunity to feed my carving for my girlfriends ass, I dove under the blankets. As I lifted the bottom of her shirt exposing the waistband of her pajamas pants. Knowing what's on the other side of this thin breathable material, made me excitedly slide my fingers behind the waistband, and careful slide her pants & panties down. As it exposed her stomach which I couldn't help but kiss it & throw in a few licks, while my hands were sliding her bottoms off. Once my hands took her bottoms off, I made my way down between her legs opening them very slowly;
Hoping not wake her up because if she does, she wouldn't let me enjoy. Since Yooyeon is the type to like to be in control but can act like she isn't; Gaslighting me for her own amusement & entertainment.
As I got her legs open, I got a strong scent of Yooyeon's musk. With it hitting my nose, I could feel my dick throbbing; While I started with kissing her inner thighs, so I went from smelling to tasting her musk as I made my way to her center. I kissed her clit and gave it a tongue flick, to show it acknowledgement but today is all about her ass. With the kiss, her legs adjusted making think she was awake. So I peeped my head out of the blankets to check.
ME : " hey bae, you awake?"
She didn't have the slightest response, so I took that as her body flinching. I went back to exploring her holes as I traced them with the tip of my tongue; While I made my way down to her asshole which held the strongest scent of her musk. Introducing her asshole to my tongue, as I moved it circular motions tracing outline of her rim, dipping in & out of the wrinkles on her tight muscle ring. Loosening it up for my tongue to spread it open, as I push it through having her muscle ring grip it. Which gave me enough room to also introduce a finger as I was working it in & out of her ass, having her asshole gape enough to replace my tongue with two more fingers. Making it three fingers in & out of her as, having it make wet gaping sounds as air went in & out while I was lick the stretched out rim. In the middle of this I felt her hands slowly make their way to the back of my head, trying hold it in place as her legs were slowly rising up. This made me realize she was awake this entire time. So I popped up out of the blankets sending them off of the bed, exposing her naked body to morning sun light. Seeing every beautiful inch of her body light up as I lean a little closer, making my dick line up perfectly with her gaping asshole with a rectum that has been primed to get filled.
ME : "So you been awake the entire time huh?"
All she did was look at me with puppy eyes and nod. This made just going in for a passionate morning kiss that turned into a make out. I finally pulled back to see Yooyeon's face.
ME : "Why are you smiling?"
YOOYEON : "Well I was too lazy to wash up after a long day, so I change into my pajamas and jumped into bed! I'm just impressed with myself! Because even though yesterday, I fell asleep in my own sweat and it's first thing in the morning! But my most nasty dirtiest place still taste good!!!"
ME : " OH! You a dirty nasty slut!!"
Yooyeon responded to that by pulling me in close, and whispering in my ear with a deep, seductive, commanding tone.
YOOYEON: "Don't act like a pervert like you doesn't like my nasty holes!!! I know you been craving this ass, I seen how you been staring at it these couple of days!!! So how about filling my ass with that big pervert cock of yours!!! After all I can feel how the tip is throbbing right on my asshole!!! How it wants to spread open my shit hole so badly!!! So if I'm a dirty nasty slut, what does that make you, who loves it?"
Hearing this put a smile on my face, as she pulled her head back with a sassy look on her face. Which quickly turn into a face that was corrupted by the guilty pleasure of suddenly getting her asshole spread open, and her ass filled with cock. As her mouth drops open with eyes widened like I took her breath away, with a single thrust of my hips. While I lowered my face just enough to have the tips of our nose touching.
ME : " That makes me the luckiest man in the world!!! To have such a beautiful, smart, dirt slut as my girlfriend!!!"
I was trying to fight the need to cum, and I guess Yooyeon saw that on my face. As her giggling caught my attention.
YOOYEON : " What is it too much for you? All that time spend wanting to fuck my ass! And yet you'll going to leave the cake half eaten! Is okay, go ahead cum in my ass already! It was fun while it lasted, because I guess it's too much for a little boy like you! I don't blame you, this ass would be too much for anybody!!"
As she had a big smirk on her face, while she smiled at me with her eyes. This facial expression had me frustrated, she was practically having a face that said "he, he, he, he"
ME : " Shut up slut!!! I don't know why you're so smug. I'm the one fucking you in the ass!!! Turn around I don't want to see that smug look!!!"
With that the frustration I was feeling made it easier not to cum, as I flipped her on to her stomach.
YOOYEON : "Somebody is mad! They can't handle my nasty little dirty shit hole? It's about to drain you dry isn't!? you nasty pervert cum inside something so dirty, especially when I have such nice tight clean shaven pussy!"
Now I was facing her ass, while I was fucking & spanking. Which had her burying her face into the pillow biting it, while gripping the sheets. Making it easy for her to muffle her moans, as I was thrusting into her ass feeling her warm tight rectum welcoming me in. Gripping my dick as if it didn't want me to leave it empty when I pulled out.
ME : "Yeah, that's what I thought what happened to the dirty overly smug slut? That was talking all big? Look at you! You are nothing more than anal bitch with the fattest ass I have see on idol..... it's do annoying why you have to act like a stuck up princess?"
She supported herself on my dick, and used for turning around as she pulled me into her. With Yooyeon having a serious facial expression, she looked directly into my eyes and spoke to me in a serious direct no bs tone.
YOOYEON : " Because you are mine! This dick is mine!!! You understand me??? You are nothing but mine!!! I can & will do anything I want to do to you..."
As she moved her mouth next to my ear, and whispered in a heavy deep tone.
YOOYEON : " And you are going to love it!!! Love every single touch, every breath that you feel on your body, every drop of my saliva that hits you!!!"
She paused to give one long lick to my cheek, and went back to my ear with the same tone; But this time it had a hint of happiness.
YOOYEON : " Because there's nothing you can do about it!!!"
Followed by her pushing me off, having me laying on my back; Next to her as she straddle me while slowly taking in my dick into her ass, causing her to fill up the room a dragged out moan that ended with a whimper. As she hanged her head while she was out breath; she gather her strength up and started to slam her hips down. To tease me more, she leaned back, opening her legs wide giving me a clear view of her pussy & asshole that was getting stretched out.
YOOYEON : "So go ahead and cum in this nasty dirty hole! Because that's all you can do!! You don't get this tight smooth pussy!!!"
As she reached down eagle spreading her pussy lips, making her throbbing clit pop out. With that I had enough, so in hopes of trying to take some control; I reached down getting two strong handfuls of her ass, and started to thrust upwards as I used my hold on her ass; To help her slam her ass down even harder while I picked up the pace of my thrusting. Which made the room get filled with the sound of sweaty, wet, gaping asshole being filled combine with Yooyeon's moaning. As she finally broke again, had her upper lean into me with her mouth next to my ear; While she kept slamming her ass down with my help, and trying to talk through her moans.
YOOYEON : "Oh!...my god...this dick...is amazing...I'm about... to cum... from getting...my ass fucked...this dick...is making me addicted... I don't want ... to leave... forget being... an ...idol... I wanna.... be yours...I'm sorry... I'm a slutty woman!!!"
It didn't take long before I filled her ass with my cum, which made her squirt all over me; As she collapse into me tired, sleepy, and out breath she softly whisper in my ear.
YOOYEON : "I love you!!! Please don't leave me for being a busy slutty woman"
or:
ELEGIES to forget all these metaphors for fucking
read on fanprose (better dividers)
7k words
sohyun x male reader
Your coffee, she says. Sliding it to you.
Spat in?
Of course.
And it's flawless, because she makes it flawless - which is the true cruelty of it.
You reply: for the record, I poison the food, trace amounts, bioaccumulative. you'll go quietly in your sleep the week before you become partner, and i'll be left to grieve into your half of a security deposit
we are never seeing that deposit again because you put your fist through the drywall demonstrating a rear naked choke
You said you felt unsafe walking to the subway
I feel unsafe walking to the kitchen, thank you very much. She turns a page she was reading - now drink your spit.
Gladly
You'd had this apartment since you were both broke - instant-noodle broke, splitting one metrocard broke, the sort of broke that's almost fun in the rearview because you survived it by the skin of your teeth.
Now she bills more in an hour than the rent. You do something with capital you've stopped trying to explain at parties - rather, take a middle distance, talk about all the publishing companies you've sponsored. exclaim books aren't dead after all! [1]
[1] of course, the irony of it is that they are, kind of dead
The radiator finds a new place to leak everyday, the second bathroom is a closet on account of all the pipe failures - and you have to pass by her bedroom to go to the bathroom. You'll take your grim - as she says - 4-in-1 facial cleanser, moisturizer, toner, window cleaner beside her 70 products to - as she says, to look like a porcelain cup. Either of you could leave tomorrow. But you don't.
I'm making you a tinder profile you say, taking her phone off the counter, sliding in the code to her phone.
I don't need a profile
You need a life. Or, at minimum, an orgasm that isn't self-induced.
She scoffs at the answer, still focused on the book -
You read aloud what you type in: emotionally available between the hours of never and also never.
Keep going. I'm aroused.
Lawyer, with three working holes
She sets the book down - this is how you know you've drawn blood - give me the phone
Make me
You had reserved a restaurant for the two of you, this new restaurant that was supposed to be great according to 15 google reviews who probably were the owner's extended family - doing their due diligence to make sure that this specific child doesn't become the family disappointment.
As always, the food comes out less than satisfactory; all the dishes are doused in butter; and the salad section was the most calorically dense section of the menu. You whisper about how much better you can make each of these dishes back home - and she'll agree, for once:
You ruined restaurants for me. I used to enjoy being disappointed by the $20 millennial man-bun burger. Now there's a douchebag at home who makes a great burger.
my pleasure with a smile.
She's scrolling tinder, still scrolling ever since the morning. Look at this, look at what's available to me. This one opened with the word 'yes'.
Atleast he's confident about it.
Oh please... she sighs, and this one wanted to know - whether i would rather have one thumb for a tongue or a tongue on every finger.
What did you land on. I think the tongue on every finger -
Nothing! It's so impractical, i'd rather think about - i don't know, vigorously masturbating.
You choke on some food you were actively chewing on, and she giggles - of course she does - and this one spelled 'pussy' wrong, this one wrote 'wyd 2nite' and I just have to scoff - how lazy do you have to be. It is ONE keystroke. T-O.
She drops the phone facedown, Who raised these men. Who looked at a child and thought: i will release this, unfinished, into the apps.
You'd know more about raising them, if you'd dated more than one person since the Pleistocene.
Atleast I committed, you - you just find anybody to fuck around with. She points at you, still chewing the complimentary bread - there was that one with the lululemon workout gear, said that's her sexpertise - she mimics a gag - then the DJ. The other DJ. Then I think there was another fucking DJ. I just genuinely -
Respect the hustle, Sohyun.
Respect the hustle? Your dick has commitment issues.
You laugh, and she's laughing too, the helpless one she hates, hand over her mouth, a soft cackle, perfect, uneven teeth showing - and you pay before she can fight you about it.
There's a dress shop two blocks down, on the way back to your apartment - and there's a green dress of something very expensive, to which she slows just a tad for -
You: Try it.
No thanks. It's ten thousand dollars with a tag.
So is everything you own. And then, you can't help it, it's right there - you lower your voice into something oily, shriveled, all menace, Let your uncle get it for you.
Absolutely not, strike it from the record
Uncle's had a very good quarter sweetheart. You pat a pocket. Uncle wants to see you in the green one.
I will call the actual police, I will have you locked up in maximum security - but, that laugh, she can't help herself, laughing into her hand - ...does uncle want to come in - watch me try it?
And for once, neither of you has the line to pull back.
...That got away from us, you manage, like something's lodged in your throat
That got away from you. She says. Buy me the dress, uncle. I've earned it.
Of course. You buy it.
The weekend arrives with the both of you brushing in the same bathroom, the only usable bathroom. She gargles, lets the foam clear away before slotting a length of floss between her teeth - By the way, I've a date today
With a... functioning human being?
His name is Mark. He used a semicolon correctly, nearly proposed on the spot.
So he's unemployed
He's a structural engineer, building the finest bridges.
Man who builds bridges and stays punctual - sounds like you matched with linkedin premium.
He's nice. Two long relationships, both ending kindly. Tips like he's apologizing for capitalism.
...So a serial killer?
He's just nice, man. She moves to throw the length of loss away.
Nobody's just nice. 4 months later the neighbors will find the crawlspace. You amble a comb through your hair. and then, I'll say I told you so.
She presses an index finger into your gut and you reflexively jolt - save this barking for later, uncle.
You move into the living room, waiting for Sohyun to get ready. You didn't get to see her in a green dress yet -
Uncle, I'm ready. She says, behind the door.
This uncle bit is getting old, Sohy - She comes out, the green dress skims her curves, the v-neck that presses her cleavage together, gleaming hair, glowing skin, plump lips -
Eyes up here mister.
Right. Get a hold of yourself - yeah, it looks great. Like, I don't know, it's like an accidentally sexy librarian.
Your eyes are fixed to my cleavage, I'm not even sure if you got the full view.
You did, you definitely did. This is, without a doubt, the hottest woman you've ever seen.
Now, help me zip up this thing.
There's the long bare reach of her back, you drag it up slowly, the zipper is small and your hands are big and you don't want to waste a moment of counting all the moles on her back.
I'm sorry but there won't be a person left in this city who hasn't looked down the front of that dress you say, pulling the zipper by parts.
Here I was, hoping the one exception was you.
Afraid not. You move some hairs away from her nape to get the zipper fully closed.
And she turns again, the dress comes out even more pressed to her curves, and that v-neck, god almighty. She steps into the heels -
I'm picturing it, you - a human - and this... linkedin premium.
God please no
I'm picturing it - two barbie dolls in the dark, knocking smooth plastic parts together. You say, vulgarity be damned.
Please stop talking - a familiar twitch to her mouth, god what you would do to continue living with her.
He won't get anywhere regardless, you add, holding out her coat unasked. Ten years with one man, a year of nothing since: there are cobwebs in there.
You know what's charming about the women you date? she says, taking the coat. How they all vanish after exactly one dinner. Like you're running a very tidy little murder operation
You know what's charming about the men you date? They don't exist. Mark is the first confirmed sighting. That's a million dollar sighting. Rarer than bigfoot.
Mark exists.
We'll see if he survives contact. Go easy on him, castrator
Don't need to go easy, dahmer. He's structurally sound. She slings a bag over her shoulder. Dont wait up.
You wait up, badly: lights off, a finance newsletter open on your phone that you're not reading, slouching on the couch like a man who is definitely not watching the door, ambling away the scalding minutes.
The lock turns at around eight PM. She comes in on the green dress and a drunk smile -
So, you say
So. She drops her shoes
How was Marco
Mark - she says, with emphasis - was wonderful.
And something about it feels wrong. Like swallowing something that's whole, cratering its path through your esophagus. Wonderful how, be specific, treat it as a deposition.
He's funny, actually funny, she pads into the kitchen, where you've already moved, filling two glasses of wine - we didn't stop talking. Three whole hours of talking, they flipped the chairs onto the tables around us.
Insufferable
There's a second date, a sip from the wine, a gentle smile on her. You wouldn't know the feeling.
Conversation's never been my deliverable.
No. I've seen your deliverable. It leaves before the coffee and changes its phone number
It leaves satisfied, you gesture, A courtesy Mark may never trouble you with
She hops up onto the counter, legs swinging in a gentle rhythm. And that dress - your dress, your genuinely terrible idea - pressed high to her thigh, all pretense of hem gone, riding clean all the way to the upper -
You'd buy it anyway. You'd buy it on leverage you don't have -
Oh please, monk of the orgasm temple. She scoffs. "Satisfied." Then tips her head, lowers the lashes, entering this little play that she imagines your women sing: I see you across the bar and - gosh (this emphasis on the trashiest possible gosh) - you really want me to put my tongue there!? I've never done that before. Sweet as a song. Does that play? On the book-illiterate?
Devastatingly so, you say. You should audition to be one of these... book-illiterates. I'm always casting.
No thanks. I've got a second date to look forward to.
Do you even get to the regular stuff, you ask, or do you have to bury the body first?
Now - she aims the empty glass at your sternum - you're trying to get me worked up.
You retrieve the glass, but up close she's all wine-warmth, hot perfume, the gentle trace of another man's cologne, and your body, traitorous as it is, gets worked up.
Oh my god. she says, looking down, radiant, with a ticking-time-bomb of a laugh - is that what I think it is?
Quickly, try to play it off - Don't flatter yourself, I was outside for a while and walked past alot of women - and she catches the lie like it's nothing, scoffing: You walked past, maybe, a leaking radiator.
The radiator's been forward lately. I haven't wanted to make it weird.
Should've seen it sooner, looks like we're arranging the date soon for the radiator fucker, she rules.
Oh, but I'm shy - an awful pitch to your voice.
And there's this soft silence, like nothing's wrong in the world - and Sohyun's grinning at you, wine marking her lips a tad darker, like you could just -
She tilts her head, openly appraising - I've always had a soft spot, she murmurs, for the small and the weak.
There's nothing small about me
You bring your dick up an awful lot. She slides off the counter and lands close. I wonder what that means.
It means you keep looking. I knew you would.
I wanted a visual, she says, It'll be giving me nightmares for weeks, thank you very much.
And then nothing's said. Kitchen too small, this green dress too close, the fact that you've got a hard-on to her and she... Fucking. Knows.
Goodnight, Dahmer she brushes past - because she has never once let you have the last move - and goes down the hall to her bedroom
And you're fine.
Completely fucking fine.
A month passes, Mark, the angel Sohyun's in love with has her busy on the weekends, letting her experience the city for what it's worth, letting her live a life she's missed out on for years.
He texts you on a Tuesday. Apparently I've been dating your roommate a month and never once bought her roommate a drink. Let me fix that - Friday? Sohyun's in, obviously.
You go to hate him - an agenda that Sohyun is already aware of. They're already there in the corner booth, two of them sitting next to eachother - and Mark rises to shake your hand. Tall and good-looking, how cliche - like he's never been escorted out of a holiday party by the shoulders.
You came. Mark says. Sohyun bet me twenty you'd bail.
I should have. I had a flawless evening of resenting you from across the city already booked. You slide in across from them.
So, you say. Bridges, tell me about the one that collapsed. The bodies, all the bodies.
None of mine have collapsed
That you know of.
He won an award, Sohyun interjected.
An award for a bridge that hasnt failed yet - committee's bold then. Waitress brings a beer, foam leaking at the top, and you take a sip - Personally, cantilevers - I say as a layman - overrated.
Overrated how. He gives a pleasant smile
The general load -
You don't know what a cantilever is.
I know it's a kind of bridge
It's mostly a kind of shelf. And he's kind about it, which is just unsufferable. You just came to find something wrong with me.
A felony. An ugly walk. An ugly way of chewing. Maybe you cheer for Arsenal. You reply, suavely.
Sorry to disappoint.
It's enraging. I keep waiting for you to mention the women in the well.
No well, he mock-sighs. HOA's strict.
It's the moment you tip - Has she told you what she actually does? She castrates men for a living. It's all framed back home.
And Sohyun - careful all night, porcelain-beautiful, hair curled to perfection - It's family law, castration for itemization. There's a huge difference.
Then she adds: Don't let him do the wounded act by the way. He's a "venture capitalist" and calls it a vocation.
I also keep a few dying publishers as pets, you tell Mark.
Sohyun, not missing a beat, There's a working theory. I won't bore you with the evidence but it has to do with organs.
There's no evidence. You point at her, then finally finishing the rest of the beer. It's all gone, mysteriously.
Mark interjects: They're not dying, though, the publishers. A little lost.
Oh, they're dying, you and Sohyun say, at the same time, in almost the same key - the both of you laugh.
That's the first time you feel him fall behind. He laughs too - but it's lagged, late.
You always look like you're one step off a knife fight, she tells you.
I'm delighted to be here, actually. Means I'm not off evicting some single mother from a shelter.
That was an accident.
Hmm.
There was a - Mark starts. - a shelter?
Long story, you and she say, in unison, and don't tell it.
He sits back a little.
You mention you came straight up from the office and she says she didn't realize they let people jaunt back and forth over the River Styx[2] like that, and you say there's a small toll, it's all very very very civilized, and Mark says the cross-town traffic this time of night is honestly murder -
[2] Sohyun's foul mouth comes up with a brilliant joke: that you are dead, but you still walk back and forth over the River Styx, which is the boundary from the living world and the underworld in greek mythology. Curse her!
and hears himself, and stops. Lays an arm along the booth behind her, losing the ability to time himself, and just watches. Like this girl was nothing like what he was looking at, something nearer to wonder, a man at the aquarium glass.
She laughs, turning mid-laugh to bring him in, asking isn't this funny, and finds him already looking at her, gone soft and far off, and the laugh snags in her throat.
Mark calls for the check - On me. Least I can do. For the floor show.
Laying -
drunk off my tits
the wine we spilt painting the ground
there's a barrier that jives around his warm face
And I notice then, you could
ruin my life
Chapter 2:
A day later,
You get home, you spot a bottle of something brown open, shining on the island. You're good at connecting dots. There were peonies scattered on the floor (Mark is the one to end things with flowers, pleasant as always).
And she's drunk enough to reach for the old shtick. So. Who's the lucky sixty-nine-year-old you've been ruining lately?
My aunt.
Your aunt's dead.
Which would explain why she's been so pleasantly quiet in bed.
She laughs, then she stares at the open window, ruminating:
I had someone. He left his contacts wilted on the bathroom counter, fossilized into half-globes. I'd come home and want to hear about his day - I mean I really wanted to, almost fetishistic, kiss what was left of the razor burn on his neck. He made the worst scrambled eggs. Rubbery, every morning, and I ate them every time. She turns around: ten years of rubber eggs.
What about you, she asks.
I had a woman. You take a sip of the brown she was drinking. She used to argue about the doneness of pancakes and then put her hands up my shirt and call the whole morning menial, and I'd ask: what purpose do we serve. The answer was always: I'm fine right here.
She sits, lets her head rest back against the cushion. Everyone wants somebody to understand their personality and their childhood and what each of those things has done to the other one. That's the scam of it. You show your pale underbelly, turn your ribs inside out, fashion your whole interiority for them and beg them closer, closer than that, even closer - and they get close enough, and then it's - they're already on the other side, and everything's over.
She picks up the bottle and sips. I feel like an alarm. Wailing. That's the humiliation of wanting. Capitalists fooled us into thinking wanting is shameless. Love takes you to shame two times over. 10 years. A scoff at the number.
You're not an alarm.
That's very funny. She stares past you, calculating the whole of you. A lawyer and a venture capitalist with Beckett on the shelf. He'd write us as two people in bins.
I once saw a pigeon on its back, she says. Alive but dying. It blinked at me, tire-smirched, blood-grizzled. I didn't do anything. I should've stepped on its brain. You know why that's sad? Pigeons know how to hurt but don't know how to sin. She drinks. I'm not sad about me. I get exactly what I deserve.
What do you deserve. You ask.
I don't know. Everything terrible. A man who makes bad eggs.
She's close enough now that you get the liquor and under it the her of her, the scalp, the skin, and you think of the skyscraper poem your ex wrote: how we overextend our necks staring at something enormous, like those mornings when someone's still asleep and their face is so calm and wantless and they're not even being a person yet and they're so perfect you want you want you want.
Do we ask the earth for permission? she says. Do we? There are little arachnids living on our eyelashes right now, clearing our pores and mating under the full moon, and their whole lives depend on us, and they never asked and we never asked - do, we, as arachnids, need permission from our earth?
No.
You press a hot hand to her stocking-clad thigh. She presses a flat hand to your chest, slips a whole hand in between the buttons of your shirt, spreads her fingers over the heartbeat.
Do you feel that, you say. Do you feel what you're doing to me.
You hold her hand there until the urge to kiss the fingertips wins - pen-worn hand, redness at the tips from gripping the legal pad all day, nails short and practical. You lift it, kiss one fingertip, and she makes a sound, this small mewl, and leans forward, mouth to your chest through the shirt, your neck, your jaw. You hold still. If you move you'll move wrong. You'll break whatever calculus she's built in her head to let this happen.
How am I supposed to not want you, you say.
What's the difference between you and other men. They're all horrible.
I'm horrible. But I'm here.
Don't be full of yourself. She pulls you in by the tie. You're preposterous
Her fingertips find a piece of twine protruding from a button and incise it. Your mouth on her shoulder. Her spine under your palm. The heft of her hair hooked left, more kisses, the tendon on her neck, the jaw, her mouth again, and she pulled you by the the tie, left and right, kissing whatever remained unkissed - a gesture so old, as old as the grandmother who named an ocean on her grandfather's wrist, who kissed each knuckle, who drew an island into his palm and told him which parts they would share and which they would leave alone - the open brown, the Francis Bacon print on the wall, and to think of her holding you down tugged up the wire of every species on this earth, not the electric inventions, something bigger, a fevered movement across the world, all the trees at once turning dewy -
nothing else matters at all.
stomach-churning pulses grinding through your intestines - and she's between your legs, pressing your legs apart, pulls off her dress shirt, her skirt, all that's remaining: nude bra and panties.
There's a soft unsteadiness in her, the alcohol, the need, the want all combining into this weak-knee'd unsteadiness - you hold her smallest fingers, steady her.
Did you jerk off thinking about me? she asks.
All the fucking time.
She smirks, sinking to her knees, hands bracketing the heat of your thighs. Her hands twist into your trousers.
I want to taste you, the weight of you on my tongue, the stretch. The heat of your cock.
She gently pulls down your trousers all the way, hands tracing the heat of your thighs - ignoring the obvious, the trapped heat.
She reaches up, still kneeling, finds the first button of your shirt, let's a hand go under to feel your warm abs as she unbuttons with one.
Did you do this with Mark, you say.
A smile on her - No, no I didn't. Are you glad?
You sigh with relief -
She grins, splays a hand on your chest, all the buttons off, the heartbeats -
do you feel it Sohyun - do you fucking feel it - you're driving me insane.
She takes a deep breath, breathing you in, the cologne melting off with your sweat, and you dot kisses on her scalp - that flowery shampoo, that smell that's hers, distinctively.
She's easing the lid open on you, finding the kinks in the armor. dotting kisses on your pecs, sitting up, still on her knees, pressing her fingers into soft spots and hard spots alike. She runs her palms down your thighs, closer to your cock, back up again.
You pull her hand into you, hand on her cheek, tilting her head up and pressing your lips onto hers, tonguing at her. Retaliation beckons: she palms your cock, rubs her palm over the heat, working the thin fabric for all it's worth.
She leans forward as she curls fingers over the band of your boxers, kissing the V of your waist, and she trails lower, closer to the heat. And you're pulsing, barely keeping it together and she lets your cock rest next to her neck -
it's so fucking hot
I know, please. you barely let out
please what?
stop fighting me, you're torturing me.
She presses a kiss on the first thick inch she sees:
You're granting me all this control - second inch, fingers curling on the base of your cock. kissing the inches, all the way - and the fingers - wrapped all the way around the thick of it.
it's hard to even close around it. And she's almost relieved.
It's hard to breathe, do you tell her that? Do you tell her that she's ruining you with just her hand staying static around your cock? That her little kisses are already taking you to that extreme?
You're twitching. A venom to her voice.
What do you want? your hands turning white gripping the couch.
I want you to fuck me. fuck my throat, turn me into a whore. I've all this control and it disgusts me.
But before you could process any of it, the sickening thrill of it: she grips harder, lets you throb in her hand, the burn of your cock; and leans forward, dragging her tongue flatly from base to tip in a wet line.
Your thighs tick forward.
And she mewls: I want more of that
She shifts higher, brings her mouth to the head of your cock and lets saliva drip along her tongue.
Pushing, letting it glance unevenly over the head - she flattens her tongue again, drags it over your cock, drags her fingers oh so soft. All this slick, the twist of her wrist, the second hand now closing in around the head of your cock, fist curving tighter over the sensitivity as it slips through all her spit.
And you're losing it: she's turning her wrist near the top, letting it meld into her soft tongue, letting your thick cock hit her tongue once or twice then not again and you can't fucking take it:
please
what?
please - what more can you say? She's trying to end you and it's all self-fulfilling.
you dig your palms into your eyes trying to process, you're already on the edge, twitching, weeping pre-cum onto her tongue and she's taking it all like it's everything to her. like the tears of weeping angels.
Another hip twitch -
this salty-sweet tang of your precum, you're so adorable. And she drags both fists up, spreading the remaining precum all over your cock -
Her mouth connects, sucking hard at the head, gripping tigher with her hands, lips stretched, mouth wide, as she sucks and tries to swallow more of you.
She pops off gently, getting breaths in, letting your weeping corded cock rest on her red-hot lips, before swallowing you back down, all the way until the head of yours bumps the back of her throat.
Relaxes - enough to breathe just a little, your cock still taking space in her throat - pulls your hand all the way to her hair, letting it entangle.
Sohyun's spit-slick, hand lands on top of your hand. And she presses down, like demonstration -
but you yank back, and a girlish yelp leaves her -
You finally coil enough power to get a turn. You pull her up by her armpits - and how light she is, like a fucking doll - you rip the stockings underneath her skirt, let two thick veiny fingers enter her sopping wet pussy.
clit rolling against your rough palm, the wet satin of her panties barely there.
And you scrape your teeth over her neck, sucking a mark onto her, as she bounces desperately over your fingers.
such a little thing, locking her waist into you as you push your fingers even deeper. two fingers trying to tear off her bra. two breasts pressed to your face, a nipple in your mouth.
made to fit me.
Cunt squelching on your palm, head dropping back. And you're sick with it, pulling her underwear to the side to watch her cunt weeping on your fingers.
Kissing all over chest, marking her up with your mouth.
On the bed, you think, sink inside her -
but you grab your cock anyway, dragging your head along the slippery pink of her pussy, and Sohyun moans - all sorts of needy that makes your cock throb, weep outside her.
sink on me, princess.
She sinks, forehead pressed to yours, and she's trying -
Feeling her, the wet and slick and tight - the spasm of her cunt, the clench, the leak of her arousal down your veiny cock.
You're fucking her raw, without a condom, rutting up into her, again and again, and she pushes back gently, trying to find a pace that doesn't utterly ruin her and you're chasing her, fucking her deeper, ruining her little pussy.
Until she presses a soft hand to your shoulder, leaning back, face flushed, nipples pink and hard, stomach tensed.
Stare at her - how fucking ruined she is: swollen lips from sucking your cock like it was made for her, sweat beading down her forehead - god is the sweat running down her face. You kiss the salt-worked forehead - a moment of softness.
Then she rolls gently, slipping a hand between her legs, past your thumb resting on her clit, onto the soaking mess of her, that hot pink mess that she's responsible for -
let me hear you, you growl, to her collar, kissing the blooming hickeys you left earlier.
grab at her hips, sit straighter, pull her into your body, let her wrap her hands around your shoulder - grasp at levity as this goddess is cock-drunk off you, still rolling, offering her clit to your thumb.
And she pants.
Clinging onto you.
letting her sopping cunt cling onto you like this was fucking prophecy - it's hot - sweat beading along your back, between your bodies, sticky - the wet noise of her cunt being excavated by a cock a smidge too large.
You're both close, these petty uncoordinated movements making the orgasm closer - sensitivities reaching an opus - only these little shifts of her hips - the urge to stretch this moment for as long as possible
And only then: the quietest orgasm, stuck to the top of her breasts, barely hanging in there, her waist locked between your thick forearms, cum spreading, filling in whatever was left between you.
poems for fucking:
romantic walks up your arm with my lips
dinner on your collarbones, a bottle of wine paper bagged
somewhere on your ribs
I want to see your city, and by don't take me home just yet
I really mean:
Let's share a whiskey, take the train over your city, spot the pennies lodged between the pavement - let's make sure every part of your skin's been kiss-bitten
and that'll take us a while
and if it means anything at all,
putting a stamp upside-down means I love you
and I would turn over every post office in the world
just to show you how much I care.
You wake to the cold half of the bed, and the rest of it makes a grim kind of sense: she's gone. Most of her stuff is still here, her shoes, but her daily shoes - gone.
You call, and it rings and rings until the call cancels - you text and the delivered stays there.
It's a Saturday. There's nowhere a person needs to be on a Saturday - but she's a workaholic - and the dots connect: you drive to her firm.
The weekend guard waves you up on account of being acquainted with Sohyun. And you get to the floor where she's usually working, and there she was, through the glass - neat-clothed, glasses on her, working hard on a case you'd never understand.
She looks up and clocks you, immediately bolting to the men's restroom - not toward the elevators or the stairs. And you go in after her -
Sohyun. I just want to talk
God, listen to you. "I just want to talk" Do you have any idea how many women have said that to your back while you looked for your shoes?
Yes. I'm aware of the irony, it's why I'm standing inside your firm at eight a.m instead of pretending you don't exist.
There's nothing to talk about. We were drunk, it was -
There was a shuffle outside the door - an employee? - but before you could look back, she pulled you by your tie into one of the stalls.
And you were dangerously close to her, her face, this face you've been in love with since forever. The one face that you cannot imagine living without - Listen, you try to say -
and she's off the tiles, fist in your tie, pulling you down, kissing you. Shut up.
You take her face in both hands, gently, and hold her back just far enough that the kiss can't keep doing the talking.
I'm not leaving. I'm going to be the worst thing that ever happened to your avoidance. Kiss me to keep me quiet all you like. I'll enjoy it, I'll still be here when you open your eyes.
Her hands press against your shirt, head pressed to your sternum. She stays there for a moment.
Starts kneeling -
Sohyun. You catch her hands. You dont have to -
I know. She looks up, Let me.
The Castrator, who has never once knelt to a man in her life, lowering herself to the tile of the worst room in the building.
You put a hand in her hair, to hold. The dots connect.
Daddy, she mewls.
Hands in your lap.
There's no sympathy for her. You're in this cramped bathroom with her, your groin pushed up to her face, and all she can say is: Daddy.
Open your mouth
Through the small opening in her mouth, you slot in a finger, trace the lower lip and upper lip - gather spit from the tip of her tongue to glaze her lips.
Wider. You say.
She's just sitting there, rubbing her thighs together - like she isn't so fucked and slippery in her underwear that just a small touch could make her cum - that you pressing a finger into her mouth - letting her throat close around that digit - wouldn't make her burst into decibels and let the whole town know that you are fucking her dumb.
She's staring at how you unbutton your pants. Button by button, all the way until your cock's out half-mast diagonal to her face and she's fucking drooling. Slowly moving forward and you pin her head to the wall of the bathroom stall.
How do you want this dick?
Like how you fucked all those other girls.
You think I'm not enjoying every moment with you? That day, we fucked like lovers. You cup her cheeks with one hand and her glazed lips point out duck-like. I'll show you what I like.
You bundle two fingers - index and ring - down her mouth, until her throat closes and she half-gags. Eyes fill with these tears and she tries to straighten herself. Fingers still down there, and it makes it hard for her breathe but -
She's fucking climaxing, barely keeping her hands on her lap. A breathless moan escapes her and you take this opportunity to let your fingers in deeper. Her chest jerks, a tear goes down her left cheek as your knuckles bump her teeth.
Roughly: good girl.
White-knuckled against her spit-trickled dress shirt that won her millions in lawsuits. Just then, you pull your fingers out, and she finally gets to swallow down.
You should be able to price anything. Be cutthroat about it, hedge your potential losses, then hedge on top of them - that's the only way to win. You've seen people go full-in, bet their futures on a life they so desperately deserve and by the end of it, they're lost souls, begging for the past. You thought it made you the only adult in the room. Then the day after that you came inside her and everything crumpled.
Your spit-slick fingers wrapped around your cock and you fisted it gently, just inches away from her mouth. She couldn't help but move forward, but you pin her head again and she's completely mindless - obeying any mechanic of hers that'll grant her a feather of stimulus. You tap your cock against her tongue. You could see the way her lips twitched to close, but she seemed to contextualize enough to know that anything that you didn't allow would be swiftly punished. And maybe now everything was dawning on her:
That you enjoyed sex with her rather than the opposite - that it's supposed to be as intimate as the day you came inside her.
Because this? This was heady, broken, and embarrassing - and all of it was happening in her own office bathroom that she shares with subordinates. One mistake and she's kicked off the ladder. And yet:
I want all of it. I want it. I want it.
You could see how her cloudy eyes mechanized - she was about to cum again - you let your tip on her tongue and she's already around the cycle again. You press the heft of your shaft into her mouth and push in gently. Push in gently because she already came, push in gently because you want to savor - for a few moments longer - how she crumples under you.
You're gentle with it, letting her set the pace, letting her get breaths between strokes. She anchors herself, and this control you give her makes her shiver - even the way her throat clenches when she goes too fucking deep.
She pulls back to breathe, a strand of saliva still connects your tip and her lower lip. And she's staring at the corded red-tipped shaft, speechless.
Stand up
She does, her skirt crumpled just a way's up. She's expectant, wanting something. But this wasn't a day for her wants.
You grab the waistbands of her panties and nylon, pull it down midway and her pussy's just glistening - all-pink, heady, musky, almost pulsing.
Hold your skirt up
And she does, further surrendering to your hand around her throat. And everything was a bit clearer:
You began fisting your spit-slick cock again, pointed down to her panties. Another embarrassing and heady position she can't seem to get enough of: Her eyes are full of will-you's and wants that she can't act on. You press a thumb over her pulse - grunting more hunch-backed trying to not spray your cum too early - and you tighten, tighten until she grips your forearms and loses her breath for just a second - then you release. There's this rush of inhales and exhales as she catches some air and you repeat the choke - until, just until, you press harder than you've done before - her legs going loose, eyes going to back of her head - and you cum all over her panties. Cloudy liquid dotting her skirt, the floor, the nylon , the front of her pussy, and all over the panties.
Fuck.
Is all she says, can say. You pin her jaw to the side so that she can't look at you, only the door, the cruel door that may open for a coworker - and you jolt closer, scooping a bit of your cum and letting two fingers enter her just then. And she's already climaxing, screaming in her own hand.
This is what happens when I do what I want.
Your nose is buried into her exposed throat and your fingers throttling her pussy. your callused hand scraping the hood of her clit, your hooked finger rubbing that spot that makes her legs splinter half-way. You take your fingers out and mash the front of her pussy with the heel of your palm before going into her again. She's rolling with how your cum-slicked fingers penetrate her.
Her body finally gives out and that's when you hug her, your fingers still slotted into her.
In truth, I can't fuck you the way I fucked these other girls. Your fingers finally slow their rolls. I want to enjoy my time with you, not treat you like trash.
And her reply, as best as it could be presented: a wet kiss, hands wrapped around you, grasping the hair behind your head.
Her kiss fluttered gently as you finally let her have one final climax.
which other member would be very prudish to their partner but let a random dirty pervert use their body
I think Xinyu would be prudish to her partner, not letting fuck her throat or ass. She wants to be treated as a princess, only vanilla stuff. Behind his back she meets up with way older and dirty perverted men, that use her body however they want.
You first met Yoon Seoyeon when you were both six years old, on a warm summer afternoon in the narrow alleyways behind your apartment complex in Daejeon. Your mother had taken you outside to play while she chatted with the neighbors, and there she was, a small girl with straight black hair tied in two neat pigtails, crouched beside a puddle and poking at a struggling beetle with a twig. When you wandered over curiously, she looked up at you with those large, dark eyes and declared matter-of-factly, “It’s hurt. We have to help it.” That was the beginning.
From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Your families lived in the same mid-rise building, yours on the fourth floor, hers on the fifth, and the stairwell became your private kingdom. You walked to elementary school together every morning, your small backpacks bouncing against your spines, sharing stolen pieces of tteok or the last sip of banana milk. Seoyeon was quieter than most kids, thoughtful in a way that made her seem older, but with you she laughed freely. She had a habit of humming old trot songs her grandmother taught her when she was happy, and you learned every note by heart just to hear her voice.
As the years passed through elementary school, your friendship deepened into something that felt like family, yet carried an undercurrent neither of you could name. You defended her when older boys teased her for being too shy in class. She stayed up late with you during exam week, drawing silly cartoons in the margins of your notebooks to make you smile when you got frustrated with math. Summers were spent at the riverside paths along the Gapcheon, splashing in the shallow water, building small stone towers that the current eventually washed away, or exploring the green hills near the apartment complex, collecting pretty stones and fallen leaves from the trees. Winters meant huddling under the same blanket in your living room, watching cartoons while your mothers cooked kimchi jjigae that filled the apartment with warmth.
By middle school, the bond had grown, more layered. Puberty began to stir awkward changes. You noticed how Seoyeon’s cheeks would flush when other girls teased her about “having a boyfriend”, and you felt an unfamiliar tightness in your chest whenever boys started glancing her way in the hallways. She had grown into a graceful girl but still short like a hamster, soft features, and a gentle smile that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t understand. She was your best friend, after all.
You shared everything, secrets, dreams, fears. Late at night, you would sneak onto the rooftop of your building and lie on an old blanket, staring at the city lights of Daejeon and the faint stars that managed to pierce through the haze. She confessed she wanted to become a writer one day, to capture the small, quiet moments of life that people usually overlooked. You admitted you dreamed of studying engineering, perhaps at KAIST right there in Daejeon or moving to Seoul, but the thought of leaving her behind always left a hollow feeling. Sometimes your hands would brush while reaching for the same snack, and you’d both pull away too quickly, hearts beating a little faster. You felt things, warm, fluttering things, when she leaned her head on your shoulder during those rooftop talks, her hair smelling of the coconut shampoo she used. But you never acted on them. She was Seoyeon. Your Seoyeon. Crossing that line felt impossible, like risking the only constant in your life.
The two of you advanced together through the ups and downs of adolescence. You celebrated each other’s birthdays with homemade cakes that always turned out slightly lopsided. You practiced for school festivals together, she helped you with your clumsy dance moves for the talent show, and you listened patiently while she read her short stories aloud, her voice soft and earnest. There were moments of jealousy too, quiet and buried. When she started getting closer to a guy in her art club, you felt an irrational sting. When a girl from your class confessed to you, you turned her down gently, your mind drifting to Seoyeon’s face instead. These feelings remained unspoken, simmering beneath the surface of your easy camaraderie. You hugged her often, quick, friendly hugs after good news or bad days, but you always held back from letting your arms linger, from breathing in the scent of her too deeply, from noticing how her developing body felt against yours during those innocent embraces.
Then came high school.
The three years of high school marked a slow, painful distancing that neither of you seemed able to stop. You both tested into the same competitive high school in Daejeon, but the new environment brought pressure, new social circles, and different paths. Seoyeon threw herself into literature clubs and writing competitions, staying late at school to edit the student magazine. You focused on science and math tracks, preparing rigorously for university entrance exams, joining study groups that kept you out until late evenings. The daily walks to school became less frequent as your schedules diverged. Texts grew shorter, replies slower. The rooftop meetings became rare, replaced by occasional weekend catch-ups at a café near the apartment complex that felt increasingly formal.
In your first year, you still sat together during lunch sometimes, sharing earphones to listen to music. By second year, those lunches happened maybe once a month. You watched from afar as she bloomed, more confident, more beautiful, with her hair grown longer and a quiet poise that drew quiet admiration from others. You felt that familiar twist in your chest whenever you saw her laughing with new friends in the hallways, but you told yourself it was natural. People grew apart. It was part of life. She seemed busier, more distant, focused on her future as a novelist. You buried yourself in textbooks and part-time tutoring, trying to ignore how empty the stairwell felt without her footsteps echoing behind yours.
The distancing wasn’t dramatic, no fights, no dramatic confessions. It was the quiet erosion of time and circumstance. By third year, you exchanged polite nods in the hallways, occasional “How have you been?” messages on KakaoTalk that went days without replies. The childhood closeness, the middle school warmth, the unacted-upon feelings, all of it seemed to fade into memory. You graduated separately, attending different after-parties with your respective groups. As you stood on the stage receiving your diploma, you caught a glimpse of her across the auditorium, her eyes meeting yours for a brief second before the crowd swallowed the moment.
That chapter ended with both of you stepping into adulthood, carrying the weight of what once was, and what was never said.
After graduation, the distance that had grown between you and Yoon Seoyeon in high school carried over into the start of university. Both of you were accepted into KAIST in Daejeon, your dream school for engineering, and a strong fit for Seoyeon’s literature and creative writing interests through their interdisciplinary programs. The campus, with its modern buildings nestled among green hills and the nearby Gapcheon river, felt both exciting and overwhelming. You moved into a dorm on the east side of campus with your assigned roommate, while Seoyeon settled into a different dormitory block closer to the humanities buildings. For the first semester, your paths rarely crossed. Occasional polite KakaoTalk messages “Did you settle in okay?” and the random sighting across the expansive central plaza were the extent of your interactions. The childhood warmth and middle-school closeness felt like echoes from another life.
That changed during the second semester of your first year.
A big freshman mixer party was organized by the student council at a large off-campus venue near the Yuseong-gu area, a lively night of music, cheap soju, snacks, and group games designed to help new students connect across departments. You attended with your growing circle of engineering friends: Kim Tae-sung, your loud and energetic roommate from Seoul who was studying mechanical engineering and always dragged you to social events, and Park Ji-hoon, a quiet but sharp-witted guy from your calculus study group. On Seoyeon’s side, she came with her literature-focused friends, Han Ji-eun, a bubbly short-story enthusiast who quickly became her closest friend, and Lee Min-kyung, a more reserved poetry major.
The mixer was chaotic and fun. Group icebreakers turned into team games, and as the night progressed with rounds of drinks and loud K-pop blasting, two couples unexpectedly formed. Tae-sung hit it off instantly with Ji-eun; their loud laughter and shared love for webtoons led to an impulsive kiss during a truth or dare segment. At the same time, Ji-hoon, usually so reserved, spent the entire evening in deep conversation with Min-kyung about philosophy and literature, and by the end of the night they exchanged numbers with shy smiles and plans for a study date.
This double pairing acted like glue. What started as two separate friend groups fused rapidly into one big, overlapping circle. Weekend gatherings, late-night study sessions at the 24-hour campus library, group trips to the nearby hot springs in Yuseong, and casual dorm parties became the new normal. Suddenly, Seoyeon was back in your daily orbit.
At first, the reconnection was tentative, wrapped in the safety of the larger group. You were both polite, almost formal. But the old familiarity was still there, like muscle memory. During a group dinner at a samgyeopsal restaurant near campus, when someone asked about childhood stories, Seoyeon glanced at you with a small, knowing smile and said, “Hyun-woo once tried to ‘rescue’ a pigeon that was perfectly fine and ended up chasing it around the rooftop for twenty minutes.” The table erupted in laughter, and for the first time in years, you felt that old, warm feeling in your chest as her eyes lingered on yours a second longer than necessary.
There was an easy trust between you two that the others noticed. Seoyeon would naturally sit near you during group study sessions in the library, and you’d slide her your notes on technical writing without her even asking, remembering how she struggled with structured essays. In return, she’d quietly bring you a can of coffee from the vending machine when she saw you pulling all-nighters for engineering projects, remembering your habit of drinking it black during stressful times. The group dynamic made it safe, there was always someone else around, so the rekindled closeness didn’t feel threatening. Yet you couldn’t ignore how your gaze would drift to her during group movie nights in someone’s dorm, watching the way the screen’s light played across her face: softer jawline, longer hair that she often tied back loosely, and the same gentle eyes that had once looked up at you from that puddle years ago.
Throughout the rest of the first year, this familiarity deepened without anyone addressing it directly. You trusted her implicitly. When you bombed your first major physics midterm and felt crushed, you found yourself texting her late at night instead of Tae-sung. She met you at a quiet bench by the Gapcheon river path, listening patiently as you vented, then sharing her own insecurities about whether her writing was “good enough” for the competitive KAIST environment. You walked her back to her dorm that night, the silence comfortable rather than awkward, your shoulders occasionally brushing. She trusted you too, confiding in you about how overwhelming the transition to university had been, how she sometimes missed the simplicity of your old rooftop talks at home.
By the start of your second year, the fused group was tight-knit. Tae-sung and Ji-eun were officially dating, often dragging everyone on couple-heavy outings that somehow still included the whole crew. Ji-hoon and Min-kyung moved slower but were clearly serious, studying together almost every evening. This created natural moments for you and Seoyeon to pair off within the group. During a group hiking trip to the nearby mountains in the fall of second year, you ended up walking beside her on the trail. The conversation flowed effortlessly, from complaining about professors to reminiscing about stealing tteok as kids. When she slipped on a loose rock, your hand instinctively shot out to steady her waist. The contact was brief, but you both froze for a heartbeat, her cheeks flushing the same way they had in middle school. You pulled away quickly, muttering “You need to be careful,” while your pulse raced.
In the later half of your second year, the evolution became more noticeable, at least to you. The trust had matured into something deeper and more intimate within the bounds of friendship. Late-night group study sessions often spilled into personal talks. You began to notice, and feel, things again: the way her laughter made the room feel brighter, how she unconsciously leaned toward you when tired, the subtle coconut scent of her shampoo that still hit you with nostalgia. During a rainy evening when the group was stuck in your dorm watching movies, she fell asleep against your shoulder. You didn’t move for two hours, hyper-aware of her warmth, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, and the way her hair spilled across your arm. Tae-sung looked at us and smirked but said nothing.
Seoyeon, for her part, seemed to seek your presence more. She asked you to review her short stories before submission, valuing your honest feedback because, as she said quietly one evening, “You’ve always understood the parts of me I don’t like to say out loud.” You helped her with presentation slides for her literature seminars, staying up until 3 a.m. in the common lounge, shoulders touching as you both hunched over the laptop. The unacted feelings simmered stronger now, the quiet jealousy when other male students approached her after class, the protective urge when she looked stressed, the flutter in your stomach when her hand brushed yours while passing snacks during group gatherings. But with all the friend group always around, and the fear of ruining this comfortable arrangement, neither of you crossed any lines. It remained a deep, trusting friendship layered with history and unspoken tension.
By the end of your second year at KAIST, the group had become family. You and Seoyeon existed in a space of profound familiarity and trust, able to read each other’s moods with a glance, share vulnerabilities the others didn’t see, and support one another through the intense academic pressure of KAIST. The childhood friends had become university companions again, closer than ever, yet still carefully balanced on the edge of something more.
By the start of your third year at KAIST, the friend group had become the anchor of your university life. The easy familiarity and deep trust between you and Seoyeon continued to grow in quiet, steady ways, but the unspoken tension underneath it all had begun to feel heavier. The group noticed it too, though they never said anything directly. Tae-sung would occasionally nudge you with a knowing smirk during group dinners, while Ji-eun would whisper something to Seoyeon that made her cheeks tint pink before changing the subject. Ji-hoon and Min-kyung, being the quieter pair, simply observed with soft smiles, content to let things unfold naturally.
The build-up to the turning point stretched across the third year and into the fourth. Academic pressure at KAIST was relentless, midterms, capstone projects, research presentations, but the group made time for each other. In the fall of third year, Tae-sung and Ji-eun organized a group trip to a small pension house near the mountains outside Daejeon to celebrate their one-year anniversary. The five-day stay was meant to be a break from being on campus: hiking during the day, barbecue and drinks at night, and a fire pit. It was during this trip that the tension between you and Seoyeon became impossible to ignore.
On the third night, after a long hike and too much soju, the group sat around the fire. Tae-sung, ever the loud one, started a game of “Never Have I Ever,” which quickly turned nostalgic. When he said, “Never have I ever had a childhood friend I secretly wanted more with,” Ji-eun elbowed him, but everyone’s eyes flicked toward you and Seoyeon. She laughed it off lightly, but you caught the way her gaze lingered on you across the flames, the firelight dancing in her dark eyes. Later that night, as the group dispersed to their rooms, Seoyeon stayed behind, poking at the dying embers. You sat with her in comfortable silence for a while before she spoke softly.
“Hyun-woo… do you ever think about how we drifted apart in high school?” Her voice was gentle, almost hesitant. “And how it feels like we found each other again.”
You nodded, heart beating faster. “Every day. It feels like we never really left, though. Like you were always there.” You wanted to say more, but the words caught in your throat. She smiled, a small, sad-sweet smile, and the moment passed. But it planted the seed.
Back on campus, the group continued to create spaces where you two were thrown together. Ji-hoon and Min-kyung, now deeply serious about their relationship, often paired up for couple activities and subtly invited you and Seoyeon as the “singles” to balance things out, study dates that turned into four person dinners, or movie nights in the dorm lounge where they conveniently left two spaces together. Tae-sung was less subtle; he once loudly announced during a group lunch, “You two have known each other forever. It’s kinda cute how you still finish each other’s sentences.” Seoyeon had blushed deeply that day, avoiding your eyes while you felt warmth spread through your chest.
As fourth year began, the weight of graduation and future plans added another layer. You were deep into your engineering thesis, spending long hours in the lab. Seoyeon was polishing her creative writing portfolio, hoping to publish a short story collection. The unacted feelings had become a constant undercurrent. You noticed everything about her now: the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when focused, how her voice softened when she spoke to you compared to others, the gentle curve of her smile that still made your stomach flutter after all these years. She seemed to seek you out more too than ever, texting you first to review her drafts, asking you to walk with her along the Gapcheon river path after evening classes because “it feels safer with you.”
The climax came on a quiet evening in late spring of your fourth year, just weeks before final exams and graduation preparations. The group had gathered at a small pojangmacha tent (those red tents from K-drama) near campus for dinner, grilled pork, cold beer, and endless side dishes. The mood was bittersweet; everyone was talking about post-graduation plans. Tae-sung and Ji-eun were planning to move to Seoul together. Ji-hoon and Min-kyung had applied to the same graduate program. When the conversation turned to you and Seoyeon, she grew unusually quiet.
After the meal, as the group began to split up, Seoyeon pulled you aside. “Can we talk? Just us?” Her voice was steady, but there was a nervous determination in her eyes. Tae-sung gave you a thumbs-up behind her back before Ji-eun dragged him away, leaving the two of you alone on the dimly lit path back toward the KAIST campus.
You walked in silence for a few minutes, the spring air cool and carrying the scent of blooming cherry blossoms. Finally, Seoyeon stopped under a streetlamp near the edge of campus, turning to face you. Her long hair swayed gently in the breeze, and her cheeks were flushed, not just from the soju earlier, but from something she had been waiting to say for some time already.
“Hyun-woo,” she began, her voice soft but clear, eyes locked on yours with a vulnerability you had rarely seen. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. About how we’ve known each other since we were six… how you were always there, even when we drifted in high school. How coming back together at KAIST felt like fate giving us another chance.” She took a small step closer, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her light cardigan. “All these years, I felt things for you. Warm feelings. Safe feelings. The kind that made my heart race when you smiled at me on the rooftop as kids, or when you steadied me on that hike. I never acted on them because I was scared of losing you. But I don’t want to graduate and wonder ‘what if’ anymore.”
Her confession hung in the air, raw and honest. Before you could respond, Seoyeon closed the remaining distance. She reached up slowly, her fingers lightly touching your arm, then sliding up to rest on your chest as if drawing courage from the steady beat of your heart. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft, achingly soft, her mouth warm and slightly trembling against yours. Her free hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin as she lingered there, pouring years of unspoken affection into that single, romantic moment. You could taste the faint sweetness of the strawberry soju she’d had earlier, feel the delicate press of her body as she leaned into you, not demanding, but offering.
When she pulled back after several long seconds, her eyes were shining, a mix of nervousness and relief on her face. “I love you, Hyun-woo. Not just as my oldest friend. As more. I have for a long time.”
The world felt still around you, the distant hum of campus life fading as you stood there, foreheads nearly touching. You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close in a warm, secure embrace, finally letting yourself sink into the feelings you had buried for so many years. The kiss had been romantic, full of tenderness and history, a beautiful release of all the pent-up emotions that had built from childhood through university.
From that night on, your relationship shifted. The friends celebrated quietly, Ji-eun squealing with excitement when Seoyeon told her the next day, Tae-sung clapping you on the back with a “Finally!”, but they gave you space as you and Seoyeon began navigating this new chapter together in your final weeks at KAIST.
The night Seoyeon kissed you under the streetlamp marked the beginning of everything you had quietly yearned for since childhood. In the days that followed, you made sure to be more vocal than you had ever been. The morning after, you met her outside her dorm with coffee in hand, black for you, with a touch of honey for her, and pulled her into a warm hug right there on the path.
“Seoyeon-ah,” you said softly against her hair, voice thick with emotion, “I want to say something so it’s clear. I’ve loved you for so long. Not just as my best friend. I loved the girl who saved beetles with me, the one who listened to all my stupid dreams on the rooftop, the woman you’ve become here at KAIST. I was scared too… but no more. I love you.”
She melted into your arms, and from then on, the two of you were official.
The last weeks of university were a whirlwind of bittersweet intensity. Final presentations, thesis defenses, and graduation rehearsals filled the days, but every spare moment belonged to each other. You walked her to classes, fingers intertwined, no longer hiding the affection you had suppressed for years. During late-night study sessions in the library, you would pull her onto your lap when no one was looking, kissing her temple and whispering, “I can’t believe I get to do this now.” Seoyeon would blush and bury her face in your neck, humming the old trot songs from your childhood.
Post-graduation plans became a frequent topic during quiet evenings by the Gapcheon river. You had secured a research engineer position at a semiconductor company in Daejeon, allowing you to stay close. Seoyeon had been accepted into a creative writing MFA program in Seoul but hesitated, worried about distance. One night, sitting on a bench with her head on your shoulder, you spoke firmly: “If Seoul is what you need for your writing, we’ll make it work. I’ll visit every weekend. Or… I can look for opportunities there too. I’m not letting distance pull us apart again. You’re my priority now, Seoyeon. Always.”
She kissed you deeply that night, tears in her eyes, murmuring how much your words meant to her.
The friend group, of course, was thrilled but insatiably curious. A week before graduation, Tae-sung organized one final big gathering at the pojangmacha near campus, the same place where Seoyeon had first confessed. The six of you filled a table with grilled meats, soju, and endless banchan. Laughter echoed as you reminisced about the mixer that had fused your groups years earlier.
At one point, the girls, Seoyeon, Ji-eun, and Min-kyung, excused themselves to the restroom together. The guys stayed at the table. Tae-sung immediately leaned in with a grin. “So, Hyun-woo… spill it. You two have been glued at the hip since the confession. How far have you gone? Don’t tell me you’re still acting like middle-schoolers.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, cheeks heating, but the soju loosened your tongue. “Just kissing,” you admitted with a shy laugh. “Lots of kissing. Holding each other. I want our first time to be… right. Special. After everything we’ve been through, it deserves to mean something.”
Tae-sung clapped you on the back while Ji-hoon nodded approvingly. “Respect, man. But don’t wait too long—graduation is basically tomorrow.”
Meanwhile, in the restroom, the girls surrounded Seoyeon. Ji-eun, ever the bold one, asked directly: “Unnie, be honest. Have you and Hyun-woo… you know?”
Seoyeon shook her head, smiling softly. “Only kissing. Deep, beautiful kissing. He’s been so patient and romantic. It makes me love him even more. We both want the first time to feel special after all these years.”
Ji-eun squealed while Min-kyung hugged her gently. The groups reunited with knowing looks but didn’t tease further, respecting the depth of your shared history.
Graduation came and went in a blur of gowns, photos, and tearful goodbyes. Two days later, with the campus emptying and your friends beginning their moves, you and Seoyeon finally had true privacy. Your parents had helped you rent a small, cozy apartment near the KAIST area for the summer transition, simple but yours. Seoyeon had decided to defer her MFA start by a semester to stay in Daejeon with you.
The evening arrived naturally. You had cooked a simple meal together, her favorite kimchi jjigae, and shared a bottle of wine on the small balcony overlooking the city lights. Conversation flowed easily, laced with years of memories and new affection.
“Hyun-woo,” she whispered later, standing in the living room with you, arms wrapped around your waist. “I’m ready. I want you. All of you.”
You cupped her face, heart pounding. “I want you too, Seoyeon. More than anything. I love you.”
You led her to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and tenderness. Clothes came off slowly, reverently. You peeled away her blouse, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin, her collarbones, the soft swell of her breasts, her stomach, whispering how beautiful she was, how you had dreamed of this. She trembled under your touch, her hands exploring your chest and shoulders with equal wonder, tracing the lines of muscle you had built from late-night gym sessions to clear your head during university stress.
When you were both bare, you laid her gently on the bed, covering her body with yours. The feeling of skin on skin was electric. You kissed her deeply, tongues dancing, as your hands roamed. Her breasts were full and soft, nipples hardening under your palms and then your mouth as you sucked one gently, then the other, drawing soft moans from her lips. “Hyun-woo…” she breathed, fingers threading through your hair.
You took your time exploring her. Your hand slid down her toned stomach, between her thighs, finding her already wet and warm. You circled her clit slowly, then dipped a finger inside her tight heat, then two, curling them as she gasped and arched. She was soaking, her walls clenching around your fingers while you kissed her neck and whispered, “You feel perfect. So wet for me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Seoyeon’s hand wrapped around your hard cock, stroking you with shy but eager movements, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head where precum had beaded. “I want you inside me,” she murmured, voice husky with need and love.
You positioned yourself between her spread legs, rubbing your throbbing length along her slick folds before pressing the head against her entrance. Looking into her eyes the entire time, you pushed in slowly. She was incredibly tight, her walls stretching around your thick shaft inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming, hot, velvety, perfect. She winced slightly at the fullness, so you paused, kissing her softly until she relaxed.
“I love you,” you groaned as you bottomed out, buried to the hilt inside her. The intimacy was profound, years of friendship, trust, and longing culminating in this union. You stayed still for a moment, savoring how her pussy pulsed around you, then began to thrust gently, building a slow, deep rhythm.
Seoyeon wrapped her legs around your waist, heels digging into your back as she met your movements. Her moans grew louder, sweeter, gasps of your name mixed with cries of pleasure. You made love to her with everything you had: long, deliberate strokes that hit deep, grinding against her clit with every thrust. Your hands held hers above her head, fingers interlaced, as you watched her face contort in ecstasy, flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with love and lust.
You switched positions so she could ride you, her hands on your chest for balance as she sank down onto your cock again. The sight of her above you, breasts bouncing, hair cascading, hips rolling, nearly undid you. You reached up to thumb her clit, feeling her tighten and tremble as her first orgasm washed over her. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around your shaft, juices coating you as she cried out.
Not long after, you flipped her onto her back again, thrusting harder but still filled with emotion. “Come with me, Seoyeon,” you panted. “I’m so close.”
She nodded, nails digging into your shoulders. Your pace quickened, the wet sounds of your bodies joining filling the room alongside your shared moans. With a deep groan, you buried yourself as far as possible and came hard, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside her welcoming heat. The feeling triggered her second climax, her walls milking every drop from you as she shook beneath you.
You collapsed together, sweaty and spent, holding each other tightly. You stayed inside her for a long time afterward, softening slowly while exchanging soft kisses and whispered “I love you”. Tears of overwhelming emotion slipped from both your eyes.
This was more than sex. It was the culmination of a lifetime of connection finally, complete surrender to each other.
In the quiet afterglow, wrapped in sheets and each other’s arms, you knew this was only the beginning of your forever.
Which members are most likely to get caught fucking staff members?
Hayeon always makes sure the male staff is stress free, but she also loves the risk of getting caught, so she's servicing the staff during breaks on set.
Naky is way too loud when she's getting fucked by staff, risking the members or other staff to walk in on her. Though she would just want them to join in.
