It wasn't something I planned. I'd swear that to myself later, again and again. When I look back, it wasn't as if I should have anticipated it all along. It justā¦ happened. Okay, part of it, a large part of it, was my doing but I swear she started it. My head is still all mixed up about exactly how we got here. I guess I'll just start from the beginning:
My little sister Tzuyu was cute, hot even. Sure I've occasionally gotten excited upon seeing her scantily clad about the house, but we were truly normal siblings. Tzuyu and I fought, played, loved and hated each other the way most brothers and sisters do. She had her friends; I had mine. Sometimes we saw each other out on a Friday or Saturday night, but other than to try and hit on her friends, I pretty much stayed out of the way. It wasn't one sided either, as I had to deal with friends hitting on my little sis too.
Admittedly, she was the best looking of her friends, many of which I tried and occasionally succeeded in taking home with me. So, I just sucked it up and accepted that people were going to gawk at her wherever she went, even if she was my little sister and they were my own damned buddies.
Tzuyu was eighteen - pretty young for already having her first semester under her belt in college. She was on the volleyball team, had a steady boyfriend, and seemed to be popular in her circles. She was a pretty confident and independent girl, but I still looked out for her whenever she needed it. She had a fake ID too, and that combined with her 110 lbs. or so and inexperience with alcohol established the watchful eye I kept on her.
Like I said, she was cute. She had warm brown hair that she wore in all kinds of ways; I thought it looked best in a ponytail. Her body was athletic, but she had amazing, shapely breasts that looked like a fun handful to play with. She was almost 5'-7," and toned every inch of it - most volleyball girls were. It wasn't like I'd been fixated on her young body, but the uniforms volleyball players wore, with the tight little shorts and topsā¦ I couldn't help but notice how enticing she'd become. Her adorable smile and deep blue eyes were just the cherry on top; I admired them often growing up.
Sure, being raised under the same roof we'd caught each other changing or coming out of the shower once or twice. Tzuyu had definitely been the first girl whose pussy I'd seen. There was that one time when I'd accidentally walked into her room while she was bottomless and bending over to pull on that damned uniform. I learned quickly that not all of them were so small and hidden between puffy little lips the way hers wasā¦though I wished they were.
I imagine mine were the first male parts Tzuyu had seen. I was admittedly proud to see her reaction and glad she caught me soon after waking up when my morning wood had just begun to fade. Hey, that she was my sister doesn't mean I minded her seeing me at decent size; I thought maybe she'd even tell one of her friends. Then again, who was I kidding, the last thing I was going to do is tell my buddies that Tzuyu's was as perfect and sexy as they all thought she would be when naked.
All of this might make it sound like I had the hots for my sister, but I swear I did everything a brother could to not to make her an object of my fantasies. Living with such a hottie I didn't always succeed, but I did my best. I simply hoped that I got a shot with a girl as attractive;- Tzuyu definitely set the bar high.
And then, in one fateful moment things justā¦ unraveled.
It was a pretty standard routine for us. Every couple of weeks when Tzuyu and I got antsy, or it was a holiday like this time, we'd make the long drive home. I did most of the driving and the little princess slept when it suited her. We made good time on this trip home for the semester break but I was still beat when we got back and needed to sleep of the road's monotony.
I was minding my business, taking a nap, when I found myself lying next to my little sister in her bed. I'd simply gone in there to lie down after a long drive home, no other reason. Her bedroom was closer than mine and always colder - far better for a much needed nap. Fuck if I was going to walk twenty more steps to my door. She must have wanted the same thing and came in later after chatting with our parents downstairs.
It wasn't uncommon, but ultimately my laziness had caused a small problem. As usual whenever I wake up, I had a rock hard erection. And with a pretty, slumbering teenager asleep next to me in her bed, my mind was soon racing with thoughts of taboo and risk. I hadn't intended it, I just couldn't prohibit my mind from putting two and two together: my arousal and my hot little sister.
My eyes wandered; I needed to 'examine the situation'. The covers were pulled over her so I couldn't see what she was wearing, but she was cuddled close enough that I could feel her bare legs against mine. She must have taken her jeans off and gotten in bed with me after I'd fallen asleep. Her hair was pushed back and I could see that second piercing on top of her ear I always liked.
'Oh no,' I thought. 'Please tell me she's asleep and has no idea.' It wouldn't have worried me if Tzuyu hadn't snuggled up so close. My erection was dangerously close to my eighteen-year-old sister and I would die if I had to explain myself because she woke up. It was likely a total accident, but I didn't know what to do; any movement could stir her awake and who knew what she might think or say.
My cock betrayed me. I heard her slow breathing, I felt her warm skin, and my hardness swelled with want that hadn't even consulted my conscious brain. It nudged against her butt, poking directly into a tender cheek. I held my breath, hopingā¦praying that she hadn't woken up. When I thought the coast was clear I lifted my hips and slid backward as slowly as possible, doing my best not to shake the bed or call any more attention to the forbidden contact I was making with Tzuyu's ass.
I settled about half a foot backward on the bed, listening to my little sister breathe and thinking I might have avoided a very awkward situation. Just after I came to rest, I heard a loud creak from her bed. I cursed inwardly, thinking I was done for. At least I wasn't still poking into her with an erection she could easily take the wrong way.
It was then I realized I was mistaken. It was my little sister that had caused the sound as she'd rolled my direction, bringing her hand behind her to the place where I'd touched her. And she didn't take my hard cock the wrong way, she took it in her hand. Without saying a word she wrapped her fingers around it over my thin athletic shorts.
I didn't just roll her over and fuck her or something. No way, this was my little sis and it could be a total accident that she had me in her hand. She might even have been asleep.
She simply stayed still with her fingers wrapped fully around me. It seemed like she was testing me, seeing if I would be the first to pull away. I didn't move an inch, but again my hardness gave me away. It throbbed in Tzuyu's hand, telling her how good it was to feel her holding on to her brother's cock. She maneuvered her palm to my head, extending all of her fingers and then closing them down over my shaft before drawing away and stimulating my tip wonderfully.
At first I'd wanted to believe that she was sleeping. Surely my little sis had just grabbed for something in her slumber and I just happened to be in the right place. But after a moment or so, I could feel her fingers searching and stroking. She was sliding her hand up and down the length of my shaft. People don't just do that; I knew Tzuyu had to be awake and touching me purposefully.
Even through my shorts I couldn't help but growl in approval. I didn't know what had gotten into her, but Tzuyu's hand felt so good I couldn't fathom stopping her. Did she suddenly decide she wanted to fool around with me? Was it a problem with her boyfriend? What could make her act this way with seemingly no warning? All those thoughts crowded my mind, still planted firmly in her hand.
And she didn't stop there either. I laid there anxiously as Tzuyu put her hand on my abdomen, both of us knowing what she intended to do.
Her fingers halted. The pause was long enough to make we wonder if the naughty eighteen-year-old had changed her mind or realized what she was doing. I was nervous and yet craving my sister's touch again.
I had been looking at the back of her head, with hair behind her delicate ear, and I watched as she slowly turned toward me. She looked directly into my eyes. I knew there hadn't been a mistake; she knew exactly what she was doing. I knew it better when she slid her fingers under my waistband and once again brought them to my now bare member. Her eyes were locked into mine the whole time.
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't fathom what I had done to deserve my beautiful little sister's daring hand stroking me as she began to move it up and down. I tried so hard to hold her gaze but once or twice my eyes rolled in response to a strong grasp of my sister's soft palm.
Maybe I should have questioned her. Maybe I should have asked if something was wrong and she was acting out. The doubts crossed my mind for one last second when I watched my little sister do something entirely new.
Still staring into my eyes, she brought her hand out of my pants and quickly pulled my waistband down and over my bulging cock. Then, with a kind of mischievous confidence, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked a path up her palm before sinking two fingers at a time past her wet lips.
I was speechless - as I had been the entire time. I was seeing the hottest girl I knew do the sexiest thing I'd ever witnessed, awestruck as she lowered her hand back to my painfully hard staff.
Her hand slid easily over my shaft before she paid incredible attention to my sensitive tip. My hips thrust involuntarily toward her, and I finally saw Tzuyu crack a grin in pride. She rewarded me with a quickened pace, slipping her hand over my head and all the way down my shaft over and over again. Too soon I felt I was going to cum.
I reached out for her body. I simply had to feel her, to get my hands on her soft breasts or that toned midsection I'd seen too many times before. Now was my chance, the way I was spooning her gave me plenty of access to her perfect little body.
With her hand back the way it was, her chest was poised proudly for my admiration. I started with my hand on her thigh before guiding it up over the gentle curve of her hip. I was careful not to go under her shirt as I neared her ribcage, not wanting to push my luck. It was a thin cotton top, with a small spaghetti strap I could see just above the covers on her smooth, tanned shoulder.
Tzuyu purred quietly when I grasped her tit in my hand. They'd always looked so soft and squeezable and now I had proof as I cupped it carefully. Where before I hadn't even allowed the thought of feeling up my little sister beyond a quiet daydream, now that I had her, I couldn't get enough. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of her, and soon I worked my fingers under the hem of her shirt.
She didn't protest as I daringly climbed higher, feeling the bottom of her ribcage again, this time without the shirt atop it. She inhaled deeply when my fingers finally reached her breast, and I took her nipple quickly in between my thumb and forefinger. Pinching it, I heard my little sister moan. Grasping her, I felt her hips writhe beneath the covers. I pushed her shirt up swiftly and threw the covers off of us in one motion, I wanted to see her.
All this while, we hadn't said a word, and she kept stroking me below. Her head was still turned in my direction and her eyes held mine,, though occasionally we broke when pleasure got the better of us. With the blankets thrown off, I gazed down at my sister's beautiful frame. Her shirt was bunched above her breasts where I'd shoved it, and our hips had drawn closer. Now and again I could feel my tip brush against her bottoms, sending a shiver up my spine.
I continued massaging her breasts and midsection, and the look in her eyes told me she loved it. Tzuyu licked her hand a second time to wet it and once again placed it on my cock. Watching her hand descend my eyes stopped on her underwear - a wide pink band of lace wrapped around her cute hips and butt with a strip of white between her legs connecting and covering what I knew would be a tight little pussy.
The thought inspired me, I wanted to know what it would feel like if I got my fingers to Tzuyu's mound. Was she enjoying this as much as me? Would she be warm and wet like I imagined? I motioned toward my sister's panty line with the hand that had been playing with her tits, hearing her sigh regrettably that I'd left them alone.
As soon as my fingers brushed the band of pink lace around her hips, Tzuyu reached for the bottoms and pushed them down around her pert butt. As she shimmied to remove them, my head contacted dangerously close to her most forbidden place which I had yet to touch. Her willingness to take off her panties both excited and confused me, almost as much as the gentle prod to the gap between her thighs.
I was eager, I couldn't help it. I grasped her hips and thrust forward. I don't know what I was thinking. The haste at which we'd stepped into this exciting and yet frightening bout of incest had me doing before considering any kind of consequences.
Tzuyu flinched when she felt my cock between her legs. I was spooning her perfectly so if I played my cards right I could soon be fucking my little sister. Minutes ago the thought would have made me chastise myself back to reality, but now that I had the chance I wanted nothing more than to take it. I shoved my hips against Tzuyu's backside. She reached back quickly and held me off.
"Nuhh uhhh," she huffed, freezing me in place.
I wanted to so badly, my little sister was right there for the taking. Seeing her body laid out on the bed, her full tits holding in place and her abs flexing as she ground her hips against me - I wanted to simply pin her against the bed and push into her quim where my member lingered so frighteningly close.
But it was those hips and her beautifully soft butt gyrating against me that caused me to reconsider. She was trying hard to make it pleasurable for me despite being unwilling to go further.; Tzuyu was a good girl and would not tease her brother without reward, apparently.
I was close now, and though disappointed I would not be able to take Tzuyu's inner temperature with my own pulsing hot shaft, when I felt her hips rolling impressively around my cock, my regret subsided. I leaned toward my hot little teen sibling, and she back toward me.
At first I let Tzuyu continue to rotate her hips around so my cock slid beneath her lips without my moving a muscle. I had my answer to my baby sister's arousal, she was so wet I could hear the slick sound of our act below. Eventually I began to return her efforts with thrusts of my own. I was holding on to her hip and forcing my pulsing staff between her legs.
It was obvious I was doing right by Tzuyu as well, because within a moment or two her breaths were labored and quiet moans escaped her mouth between them. Each time I pushed against her, I sensed my cock rubbing her clit. She was completely bare and smooth. Her skin was soft and silky the way an eighteen-year-old's should be.
I reached my hand down between her legs from the front, wanting to bring her to an orgasm as I was so desperately near mine. I quickly found her clit, pressuring it while continuing to thrust between her legs. I think it was too much for her, like the building sensation and taboo were more than she was prepared to handle because her hand shot to mine after only a few pushes against her button.
She stopped my hand, but she was unable to stop my hips. I couldn't help grunting with each thrust between my teenage sister's gap, and Tzuyu was beyond trying to conceal her enjoyment so she was moaning and gasping louder now. I worried our parents would hear; they were probably in the kitchen getting dinner ready and not far enough to be so careless. But none of that was enough to stop chasing our climaxes.
I hadn't had a chance to think about what we were doing. One thing had simply led to another and I knew that I was willingly along for the ride. Tzuyu had started it, surely, but I wanted her badly and with my hands holding her tight I wasn't going to let go until we had both finished. I loved Tzuyu so much, and what we were doing was crazy and impulsive and wrong, but I didn't care. As I slid my cock between her thighs the only thought I had was if I would get the chance to fuck my incredibly hot little sister. Tzuyu had unlocked me, for now, into unleashed desire for her and realization that she was every bit as beautiful and seductive as my buddies said. I'd always known but I'd buried it deep, until now when she was naked in bed with me and unthinkably approving of the way my cock was gliding between her legs.
Her hand started to encourage mine in circles over her clit again, and once or twice my head took a slightly different angle, just barely prying her lips apart and threatening entry. I think it got Tzuyu even hotter because of it.
Then, suddenly she was shaking. Her hand was clenched around mine and forcing it roughly against her mound. I watched as my little sister turned to muffle herself against the bed.
"Oh fuck fuck fuckā¦ " she said into the pillow. It was too much for me.
I felt the familiar feeling of semen rising from deep inside of me. Withdrawing so my head was just within the diamond shaped opening between her thighs I spurted out what would be an incredible amount of cum onto my little sister. Still I urged my cock between, not wanting to let the wonderful feeling of her legs hugging me go away.
She was a mess, quivering and panting while I coated her with my forbidden sperm all over the place a brother was never supposed to see, let alone touch. When it was all done, and I could feel she had ridden out her orgasm, I began to take in my surroundings.
What we just did, whatever it was, had to have been as erotic a scene as I would ever experience. Tzuyu, my little sister, lay there with her shirt bunched up and panties around one ankle. She looked beautiful with a light sheen of sweat and that incredible chest of hers still rising and falling with each panting breath. And Tzuyu's tiny opening was utterly smeared with the result of our "nap."
After all, that was how it had all begun. An innocent nap on my sister's bed had ended with me pumping generously all over her young mound. God it was so wrong and simultaneously so unfathomably hot:: her little pink pussy coated in my cum and the way she was purring because of it. I desperately needed to know what she was thought of it all.
She finally turned toward me, surveying my emotions, and with raise of an eyebrow and a sideways little glance, I knew she was with me. What had happened, whatever it was, was okay with both of us. In fact I was still hard and I had not even gotten the chance to make love to my baby sister. Where it hadn't been before, now all I could think about was fucking Tzuyu, making her athletic little body squirm ā¦ and soon.
It didn't seem she was going to allow it. She rolled off the bed and stood up from it gracefully.
"Whā¦where are you goingā¦?"
She looked at me curiously from above.
"Wellā¦" she said, reaching for her shirt and pulling it up over her head right in front of me. "I have my brother's cum all over my pussy, and I'm not on any birth control right now sooooā¦ I should probably take a shower and wash it off."
I was stunnedā¦ I had been the entire time. Looking at my naked little sister and admiring the body I'd just had my hands all over, I still couldn't believe what we'd just done. She looked down at the mess we had made and I did too. She was right, there was gleaming white spunk all over her and her inner thighs were shining with her own fluids as well.
As she turned to walk toward the bathroom I called after her,
"Waittā¦ Tzuyuā¦ Iā¦" but I couldn't say any more. My brain was spinning in circles and whatever I'd thought to tell her was gone.
"Oh shush," she said casually, "We were just having a bit of fun. Thanks for making me cum by the way Oppa!"
With that, she smiled and closed the door to the bathroom behind her. I wondered if she meant for me to follow her in, but I heard the door lock instead.
All I could think wasā¦ 'whatā¦theā¦fuckā¦just happened?'
My mind may have been racing, but as I heard the shower running I kept envisioning one thing definitively: Tzuyu's naked little body pelted with warm streams of water. I imagined her nipples were hard and she was slowly washing away our sticky remnants from between her legs. I laid there for a few more moments before slowly pulling myself up, putting my shorts back on and going to my own room to shower as well.
It was all I thought about. In the showerā¦later at the dinner table with our parentsā¦ as we sat and watched TVā¦ Tzuyu didn't show anything that might give us away. Before she had come into the room there had been no indication we would be fooling around any time soon, and as I looked at her, totally casual in a tight tank top showing her stomach and grey sweatpants beneath, I believed for a moment nothing had changed.
'Fuck,' I thought, creating a scene in my head where I tore her clothes off and ravished her on the couch with no regard for our parents sitting there. I was just to the part where I had pulled her pants and underwear down at once and was about to finally line up andā¦
"I'm gonna go to bed," Tzuyu announced to us. My mom and dad said goodnight, and I mumbled the same. As my sister walked by I watched closely. She smiled at me and raised her eyebrows. That lookā¦ it was as if everything Tzuyu did turned me on. Did she want me to follow her? Maybe I would get to have another go with her after all.
Watching her saunter off, I decided I would wait an appropriate amount of time before heading upstairs after her. I was a man possessed. My hot sister had given me a little and I wanted it all. And I'm not selfish, she looked so cute as she was cumming in my arms earlier that I absolutely wanted to see it again. I would kiss her and lick her, worship her, for hours if that's what it took, especially if it meant I could sink into her afterwards and fuck her tiny pussy until she screamed.
I reached her door, mouth watering, and seeing it open I walked near to look inside. She was in the bathroom, and when she came out she was wearing a t-shirt that just barely covered her bottom and concealed her tantalizing parts beneath. She saw me in the doorway, frozen once again, and walked toward me purposefully.
I was leaning in to the room when she reached the door, and she outstretched a hand to my chest. Cocking her hips to the side she addressed me,
"Soā¦ you're here for more or something?" she said with attitude.
"Iā¦Iā¦" I stammered. I was usually never at a loss for words, but Tzuyu had me.
"Look, I'm not sorry about what happened todayā¦" she paused, "but it doesn't mean you can just come up here and expect to get in bed with me."
I didn't have an answer for her. That was exactly what I had come upstairs for.
"Mom and Dad are right downstairs, they'll be up to say goodnight soonā¦ or didn't you think about that?"
Nope, I hadn't considered that either. Tzuyu read the answer on my face and giggled, which made me feel only slightly better. She smiled at me; I couldn't help but look disappointed which obviously entertained her. I was hard, rock solid, and I desperately wanted to get in bed and play with her.
She used the hand that she'd placed on my chest and pushed me out of the way of the door. Slowly shutting it she looked down before it finally closed, seeing the tent in my pants and then back up at me.
"It's pretty bigā¦ by the wayā¦ That's why I wanted to feel it. Goodnight OPPA." She spoke with a smirk, and shut the door.
Again - 'whatā¦ theā¦ fuckā¦is going on here,' I said to myself. I felt cheated, and horny, and desiring my little sister more than ever now that she'd denied me. I limped back to my room with a hurt pride and a throbbing problem. All I wanted was to feel Tzuyu's tiny hand wrapped around my shaft again and she'd unfalteringly told me no. I hated being so helpless.
I must have gotten myself off three times that night thinking of her. I knew it was wrong, but I was past the point of caring. I was merely worried that I'd never get my hands on her perfect breasts or feel that pert little ass of Tzuyu's rubbing up against me again. I schemed ways I would be able to get her alone in the next few days.
And thenā¦ nothing.
None of my schemes were possible the next day, I only saw Tzuyu for a moment or two and she locked her door that night. It was Tuesday night that we'd woken up together and by Saturday I still hadn't gotten more than a moment or two alone with her. I prayed that she was just biding her time, and when we were together she was normal as can be - which meant cute, bubbly and talkative as she always was with me. I don't know how I hadn't been drawn to her like this beforeā¦
I'd never felt doubt and uncertainty like I did in those few days. Did Tzuyu know the effect she was having on me? She would avert her eyes if they met mine for too long, but then she'd brush by me and touch my arm as we did dishes in the kitchen after dinner. She smiled affectionately and laid down next to me on the couch with her long legs across my lap on Friday and Saturday morning, but with my parents there I didn't dare touch.
She must have known. I concluded that Tzuyu was playing hard-to-get perfectly, but even believing that didn't cause me to want her less. By the time our family had come over on Saturday afternoon for our little cousin Ren's birthday party and a sort-of family reunion, I was so confused I had trouble focusing on anything.
'Ohā¦ Myā¦ Godā¦" I thought as I watched Tzuyu step out onto the deck to help prepare for the gathering. She looked so amazing in her bathing suit that I practically fell in the pool instead of skimming it.
It was dark blueā¦ wonderfully simple, and yet fit so well it looked like it was made for her. On each hip there was a gold hoop connecting the bottoms, and one atop both triangles over her tits. The bikini top held her breasts snugly in place, with enough skin showing to remind me just how ample they'd been in my hands. When she ambled down the steps both wonderful globes jiggled in place. And finally, her beautiful face glowed tan, with a hint of makeup and framed by brown hair which was full, tussled and wavy.
Part of it was my recent decision to let my eyes wander and mind free to dream up all of the things I wanted to do to her. But mostly, I think Tzuyu had finally become the absolute beauty I always knew she'd be growing up. At eighteen, I don't think she could have gotten any hotter than she was walking around in that snug two-piece, and if not I was in trouble. I tried so hard not to stare, but I knew she saw me. As my little sister approached me she blushed, and I quickly looked down like I hadn't been undressing her with my eyes.
"Do you need help?" She asked sweetly. Girls that looked the way Tzuyu did weren't supposed to be so kind or loving. It would have made things easier for me at least.
I flicked my eyes up at her and tried not to stare anywhere, like her bare, flat stomach and the tiny jewel she'd begged my mom for when she was fourteen. "Yā¦yeahā¦ I still gotta vacuum the bottom, think you could grab it from the shed?"
"Sure!" She agreed with a pretty smile before turning around and walking away.
How could she be so cruel to me, I thought. It wasn't fair that she could look so gorgeous and parade around the house like she was, dangling herself in front of me.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as the petite brown-haired beauty sauntered over to the shed in our backyard. Her bottoms weren't a thong or anything, but they left enough bare cheek for a flashback to thrusting against Tzuyu's backside in her bed.
"NO No no no noā¦" I heard my little sister say frantically from across the yard. "There is no way I'm reaching under there to get that!" She called to me.
I laughed. I should have known a few cobwebs would make Tzuyu squeal; she could be such a baby. I quickly set down my skimmer and walked back to the shed.
"Please Oppa,?" She yelled, still standing in the doorway and looking in. When she turned around I was already there.
"Ohh," she gasped, giggling a bit and looking up at me. She hadn't expected me right behind her. "Do you think you couldā¦umā¦" Tzuyu was a little flustered, and I thought I saw her eyes wander over my bare chest. "Can you get it for me?"
She didn't step back, and neither did I. For the first time since Tuesday, I kind of felt like I was in control of the situation. I could have reached out and touched her, maybe taking hold of her hips. I think both of us expected something. Nobody was around, nobody would see, perhaps just a touchā¦ I could hear Tzuyu inhaling deeply through her nose; her body language begged me to act.
What little distance there was between us, Tzuyu attempted to close it. With her back arched to show off her wonderful boobs to me, and her mound covered in only the fabric of her suit, I could have lifted up her tiny body and pinned her against the shed.
I wanted to. Actually, I wanted to lay her in the grass right there and fuck her senseless. I wanted to rip off what little bit of clothing she was wearing. Seeing the faint outline of her nipple through its fabric I wanted to tear the top from her and free her perfect breasts.
But I didn't. Knowing I might curse myself for it later, I reached out,ā¦hearing Tzuyu inhale sharplyā¦ I touched her on the shoulder, and with enough force to surprise her I pushed her aside.
I didn't bother to look at her; the little gasp she emitted said it all. I had shunned my little sister who, despite her best efforts, had expected me to bend to her every will. It was no match for that time in her bed, but it felt good.
During the party I would replay the event in my head between visions of what had been, and what could have been. Sometimes I caught Tzuyu looking my way when she thought I didn't know. Giving my cousin Jin too much attention seemed to buy me her watchful eye.
Tzuyu gained the upper hand again when we were playing a game with the younger cousins. I'd ended up wrestling her in the deep end and couldn't avoid my hands finding their way to her butt. Whether her thigh ended up between mine and rubbed against my crotch intentionally or not, it was my little sister who pushed away first. That quick interaction left me unable to get out of the pool for over ten minutes.
As I soaked in the water, waiting for my arousal to subside before getting out, Tzuyu stood nearby drying off. Something seemed different, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but her eyes seemed suggest she was scheming. Her hands were over her head, drying off that mane of hair, and her body was on display for my hungry eyes.
It was strange having this secret between us. My other cousins probably noticed how phenomenal my sister looked in that blue number, or how alluring it was to watch her use both hands to adjust each breast in the top. But the exchanged glances, and the unknown feelings and urges we were having toward each other were uniquely our own.
Everyone was getting their food out on the patio and sitting down about the yard when I finally got out of the pool. Tzuyu had left my sight just long enough for my blood pressure to drop back to a normal level.
I walked inside and immediately the cool air in the house made goosebumps appear on my skin. I knew Tzuyu was inside too; I guess I just wanted to be nearer to her. She smiled at me as I walked in and grabbed a glass from the cabinet nearby, filling it with iced tea. I stood against the countertop and looked at her, leant over the sink and washing a few dishes. The silenceā¦ the tensionā¦ it was palpable.
Tzuyu looked in my direction with a mischievous smile. She knew I would be watching her, and this time she didn't seem inclined to pretend I wasn't - everybody else was outside and she could see them safely through the window.
Our gaze met for the umpteenth time that day. It wasn't as if we were too scared to talk, our eyes simply said more. Tzuyu looked toward her backside, she was obviously bending an extra bit to show it off. My eyes followed hers and I watched as she shook her butt deliberately. It jiggled ever so little, and fuck was it sexy to watch.
"Tzuyuā¦" I breathed. I didn't even know I'd said it until she smiled wide upon seeing my reaction. She bit her lower lip, I must have made her feel truly sexy.
"Come here," she called to me.
I moved toward her, entranced. My feet carried me so I was right behind her. When I was close enough she reached behind for my hand and pulled me in tight, placing my palm on her tummy. I felt like a child as she showed me what to do. The unknown territory and the absolute puzzle of teasing and withholding she'd drawn me into had my intentions drawn up in knots.
"You want me, huh?" she asked quietly, leaning back as I wrapped around her a bit tighter. I found my voice.
"Is it that obvious?" I asked. She giggled adorably, and my cock throbbed between us. She wasn't moving her hips, but I could feel her cute ass pressing against me with only a few layers of fabric between us.
Now full and hard, my erection had made its way up to my waistband. My little sister could feel it there, I knew it because she eventually began to wiggle her hips up and down on me, standing on tiptoe to do so.
"God you're big," she whispered to me, both my ego and my cock inflated in response. I reached in front of her and brought my fingers to her mound. I knew we had to be extra careful with so many family members near but I had to feel her, to make her squirm.
"Tzuyu?"
"ā¦unhhhā¦ what Oppa?" She huffed as I pressed my fingers against her clit.
"I can't help itā¦" I started, feeling her squeeze me between the cleft in her cheeks as I spoke, "you're just so fucking gorgeousā¦I wantā¦" I paused, afraid how she'd take what I wanted to say.
Tzuyu pushed me back with her backside, turning in my arms.
"I know what you want Oppaā¦" she said sweetly, looking right at me as she did before kissing my chest.
"I know you've been thinking about it, because I have tooā¦" she kissed my neckā¦ "I know how bad you want itā¦" Finally, she kissed my lips. We hadn't yet done that, and the feeling of her, warm and softā¦ I wished it would never end.
"We justā¦ can'tā¦" she said, with true remorse in her voice. I looked at her, and we stood there in silence. The yelling of our cousins and the boisterous laughter of our aunts and uncles came through the sliding door. Looking deeply at me, she spoke again.
"It's too riskyā¦ look at how we're acting right now!"
Sure, she had a point, but hadn't she initiated this very embrace? It seemed to me that despite her games, she wanted it as badly as I did. Instead of arguing with her, I did what my body told me to and pushed my hips against her, hoisting her slightly against the edge of the counter. I was hard, very hard, and I know she felt it against her because she inhaled sharply.
"You have to stopā¦" she demanded.
But I didn't want to stop, I liked having my little sister's waist in my hands and the undeniable feelings we were both having, despite her protest. I knew that this might be my last chance to be with Tzuyu now that she'd stated her case.
A few days before we had just been loving brother and sister. Indeed, lust had gotten the better of me. Tzuyu, in her infinite beauty, had me pining to touch her more, feel her, take herā¦ But the pure ferocity of my desires was fueled by that long-standing love and affection we'd shared; I knew that much. Now, with my beautiful little sibling ripe for the taking, I badly wanted to make love to her and discover her more deeply as a sister and a lover. Pinned against the counter and with all the signs of her physically allowing my actions, I grew bolder.
I slid my hands down a few inches and took her bottoms with them. Tzuyu let me, and looked over her shoulder through the window to ensure nobody was going to catch us in the act. I don't know why she let me do it, maybe she didn't know what I intended to do.
I looked down below us, at the bare skin above Tzuyu's slit. Even from this angle I could see she was very wet. I reached down with my palm upward. My sister caught my wrist, but not before my finger could land perfectly over her clit and positioned just right for me to urge into her.
I did just that, after teasing around her opening for a few seconds. Her grip tightened on my arm as I slipped my middle finger into her. My god was she tight. Only one finger inside and I knew that my little sis was as snug as they come.
"Fuuuucckā¦" she hissed as I wiggled it inside of her. Though Tzuyu was resistant to having sex with me she certainly wasn't making any moves to stop me fingering her.
My little sister reached back and braced herself with a hand on the countertop. As she nervously glanced through the window to the party outside, we both felt the exhilaration of our forbidden actions with imminent discovery only a frighteningly close distance away.
I began plunging my finger inside of Tzuyu faster and pressuring her mound as much as possible with the palm of my hand. Watching her writhe, her gorgeous body half on and half off of the countertop, I found myself urging my hips against her as well. I was hard for her, so incredibly filled with lust that it couldn't be helped.
"Oppaā¦ seriouslyā¦ uhhhhā¦ Oppa!"
I knew if I kept going, I would make my beautiful little sister cum. It was obvious that my hand was caressing her insides just right, but the tone of Tzuyu's voice was probably spurred by something else. Whether she meant to or not, my little sister's hand had found its way over my shorts and to the long path of my hard cock beneath. I simply reached down and tugged at the waistband to free the velcro and drawstring that had kept my erection within.
Now that my shorts were open, Tzuyu's hand was on bare skin, and I don't think she expected it. Either that, or the fact that seconds later my tip was precariously close to her dripping wet lips, but my little sister was not happy. I knew it was a risky situation, and that we could be found committing incest by any one of our nearby relatives with little notice. I could hear my dad laughing and my uncle finishing another one of his stupid jokes through the open door, but I didn't care. Yet, my middle finger was still immersed in my sister's tight, teenage pussy and I wanted nothing more than to replace it with my cock.
"Don'tā¦ don'tā¦ ohhhhhā¦ dooooon'tā¦please Oppaā¦fuckkā¦" I really shoved my finger up into her then; Tzuyu was going to cum. I massaged her, with a finger inside and a hand under the triangle of cloth over her breast.
I wanted to, but I simply couldn't fuck my little sister without her permission. It felt good enough that Tzuyu had my shaft pinned against her thigh and was stroking me to the best of her ability as orgasm approached and overtook her. Her other hand was haphazardly scanning my body, grabbing at the arm which was reaching down below, or at my chest and shoulder so she could simply feel me.
Her breasts felt incredible, her body felt incredible, and when our lips touched as Tzuyu was trembling through the remainder of her orgasm, that felt incredible too. We'd hardly more than peck each other's lips yet, and my little sister might not have allowed the darting of our tongues if she hadn't been shivering through a wonderful climax. We were lucky that nobody had decided to step inside at that moment, because neither of us intended to part, at least until the beautiful brunette in front of me had given me leave.
Slowly, I withdrew my finger from Tzuyu's tunnel. Her walls objected with gentle suction until my fingertip brushed finally over the hood of her clitoris, causing Tzuyu to shudder in such a way that my cock bobbed against my little sis with arousal.
Our foreheads were pressed together, and my little sister had her delicate hand still wrapped convincingly around my shaft. I wondered what she was thinking, for her body language spoke a message utterly apart from the words she had spoken. She whispered to me, as if someone might overhear.
"God you're such a jerk," we both laughed, Tzuyu between shortened breaths, "why did you do that to me?"
"Because I know you wanted me toā¦" I told her. She was still sliding her hand up and down my shaft, the feeling of her thigh and fingers driving me wild. "Come on Tzuyu, why did you let me?"
She rolled her eyes, annoyed, but with a smile so I knew my question wasn't entirely unfounded. And still she was holding on to my hard staff. She must have meant to, because below us my little sister was playing with my tip and it was lingering but an inch from her opening. Between her thighs and in her hand she held me, her bikini bottoms hastily pushed down to the floor and my trunks open just enough for her access.
At first I was watching her hand and agonizingly wondering what she planned to do. When I looked up I could see that she, instead, had been watching me. I think it excited her, my uncertainty and simultaneous desire for her. I could have come then if I didn't think I might be inside of the gorgeous little teenager in a moment or two.
"This is as far as I'm gonna let us go, Oppa, I'm serious." She said when our eyes locked.
Damnit, I thought, she wasn't going to give in. The little tease. I'd just made her moan and shiver herself into a huge climax on our kitchen counter and she was still withholding. The depressing thought that I'd never make love to her was a real possibility that entered my mind.
I tested her anyway, urging my hips forward so my cock was sent between her legs. Tzuyu shook her head no. And though I could feel her jump when my tip was sent skirting her clit and the lips I so desperately desired to open to me, she prevented it with a push of her hand.
"It's not gonna happen Oppaā¦"
It didn't seem fair. I hadn't started all of this. It was Tzuyu who had caused the evolution of my thoughts and the final acceptance of how undeniably gorgeous and seductive my little sister was. It was Tzuyu who had flaunted her body and delivered those mischievous glances and touches in the last few days. Sure, I had jumped at every opportunity, but I wanted to consummate what she'd been hinting at all along.
I grabbed her hips tight, feeling her hipbones beneath. I felt her grip on my cock loosen as she sensed what I was doing. If she let go I could just shove forward and bury myself into her, ending this stupid game and breaking through the wall that stood between us.
"Don't you dare," Tzuyu said.
I pushed, she wasn't strong enough to stop me. My cockhead mashed against her clit, and Tzuyu's head swiveled in response. I thought I could feel her lips parting as my tip found them. My little sister had her hand on my cock so she was unfortunately still in control. Though I tried to angle correctly, she swiftly guided me so when my hips met hers I was snug between her thighs again. I'd felt that already; I wanted more.
I think my little sister knew by the time she looked into my eyes that I didn't intend to give up. She glared at me, then down to where she was holding me tediously close to sinking inside of herā¦ then through the window again. It suggested to me that she wasn't entirely committed to stopping me; my heart was pounding in my chest at the possibility.
I was holding my breath and feeling incredibly nervous. I wondered if Tzuyu could tell. I was about to fuck my little sister on the kitchen counter; would she blame me for being so brazen? It seemed as if I had wanted her forever. Now was my chance. I took hold of her wrist; inches from my grasp she had her fingers wrapped around my hard cock. And inches from that was my tip, the head of her own brother's cock, prodding at her tiny opening and begging her to allow me to lock us together in incest.
I tugged at her wrist strongly. She could have stopped me. She could have put up a fight, but I knew her heart wasn't in it when I felt her willingly let go of my rod and allow me to guide her hand to the counter on which she sat and hold her there. She was going to let me fuck her.
One hand on her left wrist and the other on her right, she still feigned to resist me. I watched her bite her lip, felt her stand on her toes. She wiggled in front of me, halfheartedly trying to free her hands.
I think I could have angled just right to follow through with it, she was just so damn wet. My head urged at her outer lips, and quickly slid enticingly up her slit, missing her entrance. Tzuyu opened her mouth a little bit; I could feel her tremble.
I wish I had done it: finally pushed my cock into my little sister's pussyā¦ filled her up with every inch of me. I wish I had because that's when my mom called from the patioā¦
"Kids!" we heard through that open door.
'God damnit!' I thought. We both stood in silence. My cock was shoved between us against Tzuyu as we listened for our mother's next words.
"What are you doing in there, can't you come out?"
Tzuyu and I looked at each other, my intentions were unchanged but she looked as if she'd changed her mind. I was still going to go for it, and withdrew from her in order to try again. If I just hurried I could take herā¦ I pointed my cock back toward her entrance. 'Please just let this temptation end,' I thought.
This time she actually did stop me, slipping her hands from beneath mine on the counter and shoving me away.
I was dumbfounded. My mouth hung open in disbelief.
She quickly reached for her bottoms and pulled them up, lucky that they were still wet from the pool. The sheen of her arousal was apparent to me on her mound as I watched until she lifted the blue bottoms to cover it. I thought she might just walk out without saying anything, but she then walked up close to me.
She reached down; I had no words. She grabbed my cock and shoved it into my trunks. It didn't fit well, still sticking up and out of my waistband.
"I told you we couldn't do this. See what I mean?" She had this smug grin on her face that I thought still looked sexy.
"You might want to wait to come out until you're not soā¦" she began, lacing up my shorts deliberately "ā¦large." An inch or two of me was still showing above the bow she tied, she tenderly slid her fingers around me and pushed my cock to the side.
I was still speechless. I watched her spin hastily towards the door, seeing her breasts and butt jiggle beautifully. I knew she was smirking, though I couldn't see it as she walked away without another word.
'Again!' I screamed inwardly. I hated Tzuyu for depriving me after she'd so clearly teased me into a sexually starved frenzy. There were other girls I could have, some even that were only a quick text message away. But I wanted this one. I wanted my little sister. I wanted to strip her, manhandle her and then, finally, fuck her like she'd been begging and teasing for.
It took me a few minutes before I could even walk outside, mostly because I was fuming and partly because my cock refused to forget the sight and feeling of my hot little sister bottomless on the kitchen counter.
Tzuyu didn't even avoid my gaze when we were both seated outside. When my eyes pointed in her direction, whether to glare angrily or stare at her perfect breasts in that bikini top, she looked back unapologetically. I saw her bite her lip once when she felt me look down at her chest. I had to focus on eating just to withhold my animal instinct to pounce across the table and lay Tzuyu out in front of the entire familyā¦ even that thought made my trunks stir.
The rest of the night went pretty much the same way. God was I mad at her. I couldn't understand why she would initiate everything and then just go cold on me at her convenience. She had to know what she'd started and that I'd want more now that she'd granted me a sample of the fantasies of her that had often as I slept.
Tzuyu may have sensed it, but she didn't steer clear of me. I allowed the sympathetic thought that she might have been as fixated on thoughts of me as I was her and that was drawing her close. I lightened up by the time it was getting dark. When she came to sit close to me around the bonfire later that night I could feel my frustration begin to eek away, replaced instead by her presence as she wrapped around my arm.
She was making little effort, in my opinion, to hide that there was something going on between us. I kept looking around nervously to determine whether someone around the bonfire could tell. I guess they didn't know that my little sister and I had gotten each other off in her bed a few days ago, or in the kitchen as they ate, so they didn't see her affection as out of the ordinary.
I knew I wasn't going to get a chance to do anything more than squeeze my fingers against Tzuyu's side as we sat together that night. I was so distracted. Feeling her next to me, the warmth of her body and that subtle vanilla smell I think came from her conditioner, most of the night was a blur. I did have a good time; hanging out with my extended family and putting back a few beers always proved fun. I could tell Tzuyu was getting a bit drunk off her intake because she leaned more and more into me as the fire burned down. I would never tire of the feeling of her breast squished against me; she was probably doing it intentionally.
Tzuyu and I were both going to have roommates that night as we had little cousins littered about the house while their parents, my aunts and uncles that had a few too many drinks that night, slept it off until the morning. Something about the way Tzuyu had looked at me when she knew what I planned to do on the kitchen counter had me drifting off to sleep that night with a glimmer of hope.
But before I got in bed, with our cousins chattering in each of our rooms and my little sister and I preparing for bed, I found myself alone in the hallway. Tzuyu stopped me on her way to the bathroom. I was walking sleepily toward my door and before I reached it I felt a hand on my chest. Next thing I knew my little sister had pushed me into the darkened laundry room and was pinning me against the door.
Her lithe little body was pressed against mine and I felt no inclination to move as I took her in. She was wearing a pretty simple flannel PJ set with low riding pants cinched around her tiny waist. She must have 'accidentally ' forgotten to button up the top because it was hanging open and she'd changed into a light purple bra that snugly held her tits in place.
She was silent at first. The only sounds I could hear were the giggling of my nearby cousins and my little sister's quiet breathing. For a few moments she seemed content just to let me look at her, and her at me. Then she looked as if she was going to say something, but decided against it. Instead she stood slowly on her tiptoes to level her eyes with mine.
Her eyes were fixed on mine and her lips so close. My hands moved on their own to my baby sister's sides. They slipped easily past her open nightshirt and found her bare skin. She was so fit I could feel her core muscles flexing as she stretched to stand as tall as me. As soon as she felt me holding her she gained some confidence and kissed me.
At first I just let her. I wanted her so badly, but playing directly into her game hadn't worked out so well for me yet. She fidgeted, seemingly hoping I would move my hands around on her stomach. When I did, I guess I just melted. I couldn't touch her like and feel her lips hungry for me to kiss her back without doing so. It felt dangerous, so close to our own cousins and kissing like we hadn't a care in the world.
I eventually gave into her entirely, and before long I was fully hard and pushing out my hips into Tzuyu. She was grinding against me, and every so often I could feel my cock wedging between her thighs. We were making out unabashedly, my hands were roughly handling her and palming her breasts over the bra. I'm not sure I've ever been so passionate with a girl besides her before or since.
I wondered if it was because Tzuyu had been drinking. After all, she was only a tiny eighteen-year-old and I'd seen her toss quite a few back. Or maybe it was because we'd been so close to the real thing before. She had protested convincingly, but once again I was utterly confused by her behavior. I suppose this unknown territory we were traversing had both my little sister and I acting unpredictably at every step.
I remember I was moving my hands down beneath the waistband of her PJs when we heard the bathroom door close.
"Holy shit!" my little sis whispered. She leaned into me as close as possible and peeked out the door.
Had someone seen us? Had someone walked by when we were caught up making out in the room right next door. I looked around us, we were obscured in darkness in the tiny room and only the light from beneath the bathroom door was casting a pale light into the hallway. I hoped we were safe, but couldn't know for sure.
Seconds later someone was brushing their teeth in the bathroom and Tzuyu and I breathed a little easier. If we had been seen, whichever one of our cousins that had walked by probably wouldn't have just moved on and gone about their routine. Regardless, Tzuyu still spoke very softly.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked sweetly. Her big blue eyes looked up at me nervously.
I wanted to say yes. I was pissed, at some point in the evening, that she was denying me what I thought we both wanted. I guess I had kind of forgotten for a while that I was her big brother, that I should have been able to keep my composure and not anger so easily at her withholding.
It was for that reason that I told her "No, I'm sorry I was so pissed for a while there."
"I could tell," she responded, "you were being kind of a dick."
I didn't really like hearing that, and she must have noticed because as soon as she saw my glare she continued. "You were going to fuck me, right on the kitchen counter. I said no and you were still going to do it!" Again, I was not pleased. She was right, but I could feel her riling me up. "I bet you'd fuck me right now if I let you!" She was whispering as quietly as possible while still gazing at me wide-eyed and with plenty of attitude.
It was all incredibly confusing. Here I was with a hard-on for my little sis, which was still pinned between us and my hands still in her flannel PJs on her pert little ass, but I was getting scolding for wanting to bang my younger sister. Not to mention she kept saying "fuck me" and her language was arousing me like none other.
"Tzuyu, come on!" I complained. I had to catch myself so I wasn't too loud. "I won't blame you for what I want to do with you, but please don't pretend you're innocent."
I could tell that she was actually listening to me, for a change.
"One day we're fooling around in bed and the next morning it's like you've completely forgotten." She scoffed as I said it. I continued anyway, "and you looked fucking gorgeous in your swimsuitā¦ you look fucking gorgeous right now, You keep teasing me too; what do you want me to do? "I could tell she liked hearing me praise her, but she was way too stubborn to give in so easily.
"Look," she answered, "I'm not saying I don't want it as badly as you do, because I do. I've had dreams about you since I was fifteen, and then you were in my bed, and then I felt you poking my butt with your big cock and I got horny and then I just kind of acted without thinking."
She was racing through the explanation, probably because we heard our cousin stop brushing their teeth in the room next door. "But you can't just fuck me. First of all, you're really big and I can't just take you on the kitchen counter. Which you were GOING TO DO."
"Second, look at us. We could get in so much trouble. What if whoever is in the bathroom had seen us?"
"Hey," I interrupted, "you stopped me and kissed me!" I was still reeling from hearing that she had fantasies about me. I'd definitely thought about her before, but until she was stroking me in her bed I'd never been bold enough to do anything about it.
"Ugh," she sounded, "whatever."
We were silent for a moment. We were both feeling argumentative, turned on, and confused. The combination made it hard to fire back at each other. Even so, the little tease was still moving her hips around. I don't know if it was just to screw with me or, more likely, she was doing it to make herself feel good.
I ran my hands firmly from her hips all the way up to her breasts, massaging her roughly as I did. Despite her attitude and the words coming out of her mouth, I could feel her breathe deeply and writhe in my hands. I wanted her to just give in to the desires she was clearly feeling and stop posturing herself.
But I knew she wouldn't, especially not tonight. Before my cousin could come out and pass us again Tzuyu pushed away from me and walked, no strutted, back to her room. I backed further into the laundry room and waited for my cousin Chao to pass. He clearly had no idea we had been in there.
I went to bed that night frustrated and still completely turned on. The hour or so it took me to fall asleep my mind raced between visions of my bottomless little sis in the kitchen, or in that cute bra in the hallway, and then the anger I felt about her teasing. A selfish part of me hoped that she would be brooding just the same in the room down the hall.
The next day most of our extended family left. To my dismay, my Aunt Cheng and Uncle Wei hadn't booked a flight out for another two days. They always pulled shit like that: overstaying their welcome, in my opinion. And this time we'd be stuck with little ones sleeping in mine and Tzuyu's bedrooms for two more nights. I was utterly depressed. If only I had a little privacy, where perhaps I could slip into Tzuyu's room and lay with her for a little while until she snuggled up to me like she'd done before. Sadly, I'd not get the chance.
And yet, the next morning, more inexplicable behavior from my sister. I was brushing my teeth in the same bathroom we'd made out and then argued next to the night before. Tzuyu came in wearing some ridiculous workout outfit. Her top was not much more than a light blue sports bra and her shorts a tiny pair of black spandex material with white trim. Her tube socks that matched the top and a pair of new sneakers rounded off the whole thing and made her appear beyond adorable. The eighteen-year-old looked incredibly tan and lean, and showing so much skin that I was practically drooling as I watched her in the mirror.
I expected to get nothing from her after our disagreement the night before. I was wrong. Maybe having cousins in her bedroom for the night had kept her from taking care of some of the sexual tension I'd felt between us in the laundry room. Whatever it was, I watched in disbelief as Tzuyu came up behind me and I could feel her breasts pressing against my back. Holding my gaze in the mirror she slid her arms, slowly but determinedly , to my front and over the shorts I'd worn to bed.
"Are you always hard?" she asked innocently.
"That must be difficult for you." She continued, sounding snide.
Her hands were both, one after the other, caressing the length of my shaft through my shorts. I had been somewhat hard as I usually was in the morning, and more so when I saw my little sister in that damned running outfit. But after feeling the teenager's hands rubbing me, I was positively pining for relief.
I'd stopped brushing my teeth, so my hand hung there suspended in my disbelief. With my other hand I had to brace myself on the vanity because Tzuyu's touch was so amazing that my knees were feeling weak. She was holding tightly to me from behind so I could feel all of her tiny frame and still she was leaning to look at me in the eye.
It felt incredible, though I wanted to get my hands on some of the exposed stomach of my little sister's or the tight material that made her butt look so graspable. I was content to let her continue rubbing me for another minute or so, but thinking about how hot she looked in her outfit made me excited to seat her on the vanity like we had in the kitchen the day before.
I was glad I waited because a few seconds later Tzuyu pulled back the elastic of my shorts and shoved her hand in to grab my cock. She took it firmly in her hand and encircled it with her fingers.
"Holy crap," she exclaimed with big eyes, "I guess I keep forgetting how big you are."
She gently ran her fingers from base to tip and back before grabbing me firmly again. I knew my little sister hadn't had more than a boyfriend or maybe two so her experience was limited, but it was if everything she did was just perfectly sexy. I could never tire of the taboo behavior we had been acting out in the last few days.
And thenā¦ it was over.
No warning, no cause like a relative walking by or our parents calling; she just stopped.
"I gotta go for a run," said the beautiful brunette.
She pulled her hand out of my pants and the waistband returned with a 'snap' against my skin. Tzuyu put her hands on my sides and squeezed gently, giving me a jolt before saying "See ya later alligator!" and heading for the door.
"Tzuyu, what the fuā¦" I called after her. But she was gone, and for the umpteenth time that week I felt totally cheated. I'd let my little sister completely screw with my mind and now my desire and arousal. She wasn't just teasing me innocently or playfully; she was stringing me along for her own evil enjoyment.
It took a full fifteen minutes before the damned sexually starved frenzy my teasing, baby sister had left me in subsided, and when I sat down I was fixated on the image of Tzuyu in her outfit. Someone asked me a question at breakfast and think I actually asked them to repeat it three times before I was able to answer; I was that bound up.
I had to do something. I had to stop fantasizing about Tzuyu and letting her prey on me the way she had been. She was not going to end her torment; that much was clear. But she was also not going to let me call the shots.
I was thinking about how I might sit her down and talk to her, or tease her right back, when she returned from the run. She was glistening from the exercise, her skin shiny but only just. She walked past the six of us seated at the table. I could tell that every one of us guys, even my youngest cousin of around thirteen, had noticed her. I remember thinking how funny they looked, pretending not to watch her as she filled a glass of water and tipped it up in front of the sink. A few drops of condensation landed on the tops of her breasts, and I watched them roll down into her top in the wonderful cleft between each breast.
Then I realized that I probably looked no less pathetic than my cousins, my dad or my uncle. I was as bendable to Tzuyu's will as they were, and I felt the familiar anger at my helplessness climb into my brain.
"Have a good run honey?" My dad asked.
"Yeah!" Tzuyu said, "but it was really hot out there and now I'm all sweaty."
She sort of stuck out her abs and looked at the shining surface of her skin as she said it. My relatives got to talking about their workout routines and such. I was pretty much zoned out, thinking about Tzuyu, what I wanted to do to her and watching her as she walked around the kitchen. At one point, Tzuyu even got competitive, talking about how she thought she could probably beat me in any workout.
"You are really BIG," Tzuyu emphasized. She raised her eyebrows at me as she said it. I knew what she meant even if our family didn't, "but I think I could take you!"
My cousins both laughed, thinking she was issuing a dare. And as I remember, it was then that I decided to take her up on it and to put an end to Tzuyu's teasing. Watching her, with the tight spandex hugging her breasts that I longed to see bouncing up and down as I fucked her, with the taut midsection I would hold on to as I thrustedā¦ the miniature shorts that cradled her pussy so I could just make out her mound and lipsā¦ And again she was just dangling herself in front of me like there was nothing I could do.
Well, I could do something, and I was going to. Tzuyu told us that she was going upstairs to shower, and I just nodded my head. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of shooting me another naughty look.
I sat in silence at the table for a few moments. My heart started to pound. I was too fed up, and I was going to explode if I waited until the next moment that Tzuyu and I were alone, whenever that would be. Would I be able to pull it off? What would Tzuyu do? Could I be caught?
Throwing caution to the wind, I mumbled a few words, excused myself and headed upstairs. With each step, my heart pounded harder. I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest.
Thump
Thump
Thump
It was like my heartbeat was at my inner ear and the door handle to Tzuyu's bedroom was a million miles away. It was probably only a few seconds but my head was pounding to the fall of each step until I reached her door.
I heard her turn the shower on within. There was a bathroom in her room actually, so the fact that she was out in the hall the night before meant she had intended to run into me. All the more reason I had to keep pushing ahead with my plan.
I reached her door and listened. I imagined that inside my little sister was peeling her clothes off If I went in now I might be treated to the sight of the teenager bent over as she stepped out of her shorts. Tempting as it was, I had to wait.
It was the longest thirty seconds of my life. Standing there, knowing my naked little sis was just feet away, and knowing what I intended to doā¦ I was indescribably tense.
Finally I heard the sound of the bathroom door close and shortly thereafter the shower door sliding shut. I took a deep breath and turned the handle to her bedroom as quietly as possible. Peeking in, I saw that the coast was clear. I could hear Tzuyu in the shower, probably just beginning to cool off after her run.
I closed her bedroom door behind me, and then stood at the bathroom door: the final threshold between me and the naked teenager who had been teasing me into submission and plaguing my thoughts and dreams. It was with that realization that I opened the door swiftly and silently, slipping in without making a noise.
Tzuyu was turned away from me; I was thankful for that. I could see her through the clear shower door. Her workout clothes were in a heap on the bathmat and she was running her fingers through her hair. She had no idea I was inside or that my hungry eyes were upon her.
Her hair was dark and wet, and even from behind Tzuyu was stunning, drawing me closer. I hadn't yet had the chance to see my little sister fully naked and standing up, stretching to thread her fingers through her hair. The swell of her breasts from the side and the slender and youthful nature of her frame reeled me step by step toward the shower.
My heart was beating incredibly fast and my hands were shaking. At the last minute, I looked up and down my little sister's body. She was absolutely gorgeous, wet and unspeakably alluring. I recalled the desire I felt for her and the way she'd driven me to it and found my confidence. In seconds I tossed off my shirt, shoved my shorts to the floor and grabbed the handle of the shower door.
Quickly, I cast the door to the side and stepped inside. Tzuyu finally heard me and was attempting to wipe the water from her eyes and turn, but she was too late. I'd already shut the door and pinned my little sister against the tile wall of the shower before she could stop me.
"What the fuck Oppa!"
I had been hard from the second I stepped into her bedroom. I had been waiting for this moment since I'd first felt Tzuyu's little backside against me in her bed.
She knew 'what the fuck' was going on because I had her hands pinned against the wall with mine and my cock was planted between her legs. Her chest was pressed against the tile too, and her face turned sideways. I could see the mounded flesh of her tit spilling out to the side of her.
"Oppa, I'm warning you!" She said.
"You're warning me what?" I asked, "What Tzuyu? That you're going to just fuck with me all you want and then just walk away like you own me?"
She didn't answer, but I swear I felt her hips move. The water was only on my legs, but I could see steam rising up between us. I tested her by moving my hips backward and sliding my cock, which had been tucked into the gap between her thighs, against her pussy lips. Then, right away, I pushed it back. Her soft ass stopped me as I forcefully thrust against it. I intentionally missed entering her, but I got so close that I know it got Tzuyu's attention. My brain was positively spinning; I withdrew and set my head at just the right spot where I'd finally push into my little sister's pussy and wiggled it there against her lips.
Tzuyu tensed and her body writhed perceptively. I couldn't be certain, but it didn't seem like she was trying to muscle out of my grasp but that she'd unintentionally responded to the suggestive movement of my hips. For all her denial, for all her teasing and refusal, her body wanted me as much as I did hers. It wasn't just the shower, my little sister was wet and I couldn't wait any longer. She opened her mouth to speak,
"Fuck you Oppaā¦uhhhā¦ooouwwhhhhh."
I'll never forget the sound she made when I first felt my cock slip into my little sister's pussy. I don't think she believed that I was actually going to do it. But as I watched Tzuyu's head roll and felt her stand on her tiptoes to slow my entry, she obviously knew what was happening. And the feeling of Tzuyu's teen pussy wrapping around my cockhead was like nothing I'd ever felt before in my life.
It was so wrong, so taboo and so incredibly risky. My hard cock was finally inside my little sister. She had been asking for it long enough, but this time she'd thought I was too chicken to oblige. My hands were wrapped around her wrists at her sides, close enough to still squeeze her hips with my thumb and forefinger.
I grabbed right above her butt, depressing into the soft cheeks and I pushed her down from her toes. She came to rest with her feet flat on the tile floor and my tip an inch deeper inside of her.
I'm not cruel, I knew that she would need to adjust to me as she'd warned before and her wide eyes told me so again. This time, Tzuyu knew that I was in control. Yet, I was content to stand there, unmoving, as we both accepted the reality that we were finally committing the incest we'd been dancing around for days.
I wasn't going to speak first; whoever spoke first would lose this standoff.
I gripped Tzuyu's hips and arms at her sides. Slowly I forced her to bend more and take another inch and another inch of my cock into her tiny pussy.
"Ouuuwwwwā¦Fuck Oppaā¦stopā¦ oh it's too bigā¦ please."
I know it's awful, but for once I liked hearing her beg. With her whimpering as motivation, I stood up taller and continued the thrust into my naked and wet little sister. Her pussy was incredibly tight. It resisted me every bit of the way, but there was no mistaking that she was aroused. By the time I was ready to bottom out inside Tzuyu, she was putting up little resistance to keep me from bringing her backside lower so I could be buried inside her.
I thought I might climax immediately. Every inch of my penis was being snugly sheathed by Tzuyu's pussy. The thought that I was fucking her completely unprotected made me throb inside of her. I remembered her saying that she wasn't on birth control, and the added risk was only more motivation. The fact that she'd denied me so many times and now I was finally getting what she'd teased without her permission was even better. I wanted to simply fuck her, cum inside her and break all of the rules at once.
It was then that Tzuyu revealed the last, unknown piece of the puzzle.
"Fuā¦fuā¦ fuuuuck Ke..Oppa." She cried with wavering words, "I'm aā¦ ouhhhhhaaā¦ virgin."
I couldn't believe it.
I knew she'd had boyfriends before, and all the teasing and playingā¦ I'd just assumed she was a seasoned seductress. Now I wasn't just fucking my fertile little sister without her consent, I was taking her virginity too. I knew that nobody in the world had ever been so lucky, so aroused and so ready to fuck their little sister in earnest as I was at that moment.
It all made sense now, why Tzuyu wasn't on birth control, why she kept talking about how big I was despite that I'm certainly no pornstar, and why she'd teetered so close to the edge without letting us go as far as we now were.
"Is that why you wouldn't let me fuck you Tzuyu?" I asked her, she turned her face away.
Slowly I removed a few inches of my cock from inside her before steadily sliding it back in. "Ouuuuuwahhhhhā¦ fuckk Oppaā¦ fuck youā¦you're fuckingā¦ ughhhā¦raping me."
"You knew you were doing this Tzuyuā¦" I argued, "And you just kept teasing and teasing."
Ever so slightly, I felt her little butt jiggle against me. Perhaps it was a reaction to feeling her first cock inside of her. Her hands were no longer fighting to be free of my grasp, though I didn't risk letting them go.
"Try not to be so tense sis, you'll make it hurt.."
I didn't expect my little sister to comply, but in a few seconds I could feel her insides loosen their grip on me. It truly seemed like she was going to allow me to continue.
Again I fucked her from behind. She felt absolutely wonderful like that. Her height, the smoothness of her skin, the way her back arched just right so that when my hips met her; she was every bit as perfect as I'd dreamed. As I once again shoved my cock into her, hard, I met resistance and knew I was all the way buried to her cervix.
"Fucking dickā¦ uhhhh fuckā¦oh my Godā¦ you're such a fuuuuhhcking asshole!" she said through my next two thrusts.
"What's that Tzuyu," I asked sarcastically, "you want it in your ass?"
I know I saw a smile across her face at my humor, but she quickly concealed it. I had no intention of being anywhere but my little sister's virgin pussy at the moment, but I loved seeing her adorable smile amongst her insults.
I chanced to let go of my little sister's hands; knowing that she might use her newfound freedom to escape. I guess I just thought that I'd already done enough and she deserved to at least have some dignity back. When I let go, I could see her thinking hard about what she would do. I immediately grabbed her hips to hold on tight and keep fucking her as it might have been the end of my chance to do so.
But what happened next was absolutely amazing. My hips slapped against her pretty butt and I watched in awe as Tzuyu slowly lifted her hands to the wall. She pushed away from it, but only enough so her breasts hung free and her head was able to move as she pleased. My little sister was going to willingly let me fuck her from behind. I depressed my thumbs into those tantalizing dimples she had in her back and humped her like I'd only dreamed of doing.
And that wasn't all. After a few thrusts I finally got my hands on her perfect chest. I cradled each breast and then squeezed them firmly against her to continue to fuck her as I had been. My fingers found her nipples and I pinched them, hearing her moan immediately. I guess that was a lot for Tzuyu, and the feelings of having me inside of her for the first time were bringing her to new heights.
No way. No way was I going to stop. I only held her tighter. She was holding herself from the wall with one hand and trying to fend me off with the other. She was hopelessly uncoordinated in her attempt, and each thrust only made her motions more desperate.
"Oppa don'tā¦ohfuckkkkā¦ Oppaā¦ Oppaā¦ pleaseā¦" she said. Tzuyu didn't know what she was begging for; I knew she'd never felt anything like she was about to. I couldn't stop. She had to experience what I had built up inside of her.
"Ohhh please brotherā¦pleaaaase.. oooOOOUUUW."
She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes upon in that moment. I held her as best I could because I could see her knees giving out beneath her. My hands wrapped around her chest and midsection; my hips continued grinding into her.
My little sister quaked and tensed in my arms. Tears formed in her eyes as she was overcome with feeling. She grabbed at my encircling arms and held them tight. Her nails dug into me until it hurt. Her head lolled back, her graceful neck so close to me that I could smell the remnants of her perfume. Her lungs were filled with the breath she had taken and been unable to expel until the numbing climax released its hold on her. I held on to that beautiful young girl so tight that our bodies were melded together in passion.
Her tunnel squeezed my cock with such ferocity it was almost painful. I could feel her walls rippling as her body revealed to her for the first time what made sex something she'd never be able to go without. And still I just held her. I'd gotten into the shower, penetrated her for the first time and even fucked her into a mind-numbing orgasm without her permission, but I would keep her in my arms, despairingly hopeful that she might forgive me when she came backā¦ that it would all have been worth it.
She did, eventually, regain herself. I could feel strength returning to her limbs. Her panting breaths got deeper, and her nails finally disengaged from me. I'd stopped moving my hips because once she had reached the height of her orgasm I knew she would be incredibly sensitive; Yet, I was lodged as deep as her tiny frame would allow.
The only sound at that point was the constant drone of cascading water. I could feel Tzuyu's little body struggling to take enough breaths to fully recover; her vulnerability was adorable. I didn't mind either, because I took the opportunity to continue lightly massaging her breasts. The first reaction I heard from my little sister was a giggle when I took both her breasts in my hands from behind her and playfully jiggled them against each other. They were simply the perfect size, and I wanted to duplicate the motion I'd seen so many times when they'd been hidden from me in one of her push-up bras. I couldn't help myself, and my little sis seemed to appreciate my admiration.
To my dismay, Tzuyu reached back and put her palms on my hips. With considerable effort, she pushed me away and stood up as tall as she could, sliding my swollen cock from her slowly. Each exposed inch felt cold and uncomfortable when not secured snugly inside my teenage sister. I worried, as my cockhead finally emerged from Tzuyu's tiny opening with the faintest sound of suction, that I'd never get back in.
Now it was my turn to hold my breath. I was hard, longing to finish our incestuous tryst inside my little sister and anxious about what she might say when she turned toward me. At first she didn't look at my face, only down where my staff was pressed against her abs as she turned. It was as if she was staring in wonder at the culprit of her wonderful orgasm, her brother's cock that had invaded her untouched pussy and forced a climax on her.
When she did finally look up, I saw on her face no blame or disappointment. She could have said something to confirm it but when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss me I knew that she'd embraced what we'd just shared. Tzuyu's hands were more aggressive than ever as she reached out for some way to hold on to me as her lips and mine were joined. I felt my cock slip into the incredibly wet cleft between her legs.
"You bastardā¦" she said with a smile as I tried to prolong our kiss when she pulled away.
"What?" I asked with feigned innocence.
"I can't believe you just did that!" my little sister continued.
"Did what?"
"Well, for starters you took my virginity, and you fucked me without a condom onā¦" she said with raised eyebrows. "Not to mention you basically forced yourself on your little sister when the rest of our family is like 50 feet away."
"The door's locked," I said with a shrug, "I thinkā¦"
Tzuyu hit me on the chest hard and laughed aloud, "You are the worst!"
She looked so pretty, naked with the shower running on her taut little butt and leaning against me. I pulled her tight and could see that her face was still flush from her orgasm minutes before.
"What's the matter, are you worried they heard your big brother "force" you to cum?" I asked while making the quotes motion sarcastically.
"Oh fuck you," she said and then she surprised me with another hungry kiss. The sudden motion pushed me back so that the tiled ledge behind us took out my legs and I fell with a soft 'thud' to a seat there. Without missing a beat, my little sister was straddling me with her back arched athletically.
"I guess I knew you'd snap eventually," she said quietly, in between kisses, "I just didn't think it would be like thisā¦"
I felt Tzuyu searching with her hips slowly for the path of my member, and finding it she whispered, "I'm glad it was."
I was enraptured by the little brunette. My conscious brain was still struggling to accept that I'd just fucked my little sister and watched her cum during her first time. It was far more difficult with the petite eighteen-year-old slowly grinding on my cock. I wanted to beg Tzuyu to take me back inside her, but she wouldn't release my lips yet. Feeling her slit and the opening to her young quim so close was torturous. When she finally did stop to look into my eyes I said,
"Soā¦are you going to show me what all that tight workout gear has been for," my little sister's mouth was already agape as she listened, "or are you gonna just pretend to fuck me while you're up there?"
I knew Tzuyu too well; she could never resist a challenge.
She quickly lifted her hips to position herself, but I could see she was nervous as she held me right at her opening. I lifted my hips up toward her without thinking, causing my tip to prod and then enter her before she could react. Her body jolted and she lifted higher to remove my head from inside her.
"It's really big," she said with big eyes pleading for approval. "I didn't have time to worry about it before."
So I decided to help herā¦ a little. I grabbed Tzuyu's hips firmly and pushed her downward. She must have allowed it, to some degree, because I was able to get her to take almost half of my cock into her tiny channel with one steady push.
"Ohhhh fuckā¦" she cried, her hands scrambling to mine upon her hips, "God damnit, I shouldaā¦ughhā¦shoulda known you'd do that."
Her face was absolutely beautiful as I watched her come to rest with me buried fully inside her. I hope to never forget the way she gasped when I was as deep as I could go.
"You feel so good sis," I told her as I pushed my hips firmly against her, "you are so incredible Tzuyuā¦mnnnhhā¦ and so freaking tight."
She smiled through a scrunched, focused face and hugged me, kissing my neck when she got close enough. She was still adjusting, which made sense having been a virgin only minutes before. I was content to hold her and feel her body against mine until she lifted her hips off and tried again.
"Godā¦mnnhhhhhā¦ I can't believe it fits in me." Her voice was mesmerizing to me. "You can't cum in me, okay?"
"Why not?" I asked, hoping she'd change her mind.
"Because," she said without much conviction, "because I could get pregnant."
I'm not sure why exactly, but the thought of cumming inside my little sister made me more aroused than ever. I grasped her hips as firmly as I could and helped her along the path of my cock. To my surprise. Tzuyu began rotating her hips in small, front-to-back circles like she'd done it a million times before. I don't know why I was so shocked; I guess with her indescribable sexiness came a natural affinity for being the perfect little plaything.
"Fuuuck Tzuyuā¦" I said as her hips rotated into mine again.
"Hmmmā¦ what's wrong Oppa?" my little sister asked with a giggle.
"uhhh, unnghhhhā¦does that feel good big brother?" She was really exerting herself as she said it, moving her hips amazingly up and down on me. Both of us stared in disbelief as my cock disappeared into her over and over.
My hands wandered all over her, fingers spreading as I touched her flat stomach and felt the bottom of her ribcage. Tzuyu had an arm around my neck to steady herself as she kept her hips moving and her other hand guided me to her youthful breasts. They were so soft and perky; her nipples were stiff and the perfect shade of pink to my eyes and plying fingers. I don't know if all teenage girls have a chest like my little sister's but in that moment I thought that Tzuyu's were the most beautiful tits I'd ever see. A couple times I cupped one and lightly licked her nipple. She tried to help me access her, lifting up until my cock was almost out of her. Tzuyu clearly liked it because she arched her back to help me take her puffy little nub in my mouth.
Tzuyu and I were both breathing heavily and she was quietly moaning into my ear as I held her breast and lapped at it. She took my chin aggressively in her hand and kissed me; her forwardness made me throb with desire. I couldn't believe how well my little sister was doing for her first time, and I only wanted more.
I think Tzuyu could tell by the look on my face that I was really affected by the way she was grinding on top of me. She slowed.
"Are you getting close Oppa?"
I didn't want to change anything about the way we were fucking each other. I lifted my hips to maintain the speed she had established with her own. "Ohhh Oppaā¦ fuck that feelsā¦uhā¦uhhā¦good! Are you gonna cum soon?"
"Yesā¦ keep going Tzuyu!"
"Unhh uh," she denied me.
Even though I tried to hold my little sister on top of me, her skin was slippery and slid from my grasp as she gracefully lifted herself from me and my cock abruptly popped from her quim. I cursed as she got to her feet and left me sitting there, deprived of my orgasm.
Again she could tell from the look on my face that I was disappointed. She tried to console me as she stood up and leaned in to kiss my cheek and the corner of my mouth.
"You know we shouldn't Oppa, I told you I wasn't on birth control and we could get in so much trouble." She said with those pleading eyes I loved seeing so much.
"I know Tzuyu," I said, placing both hands on her hips and forcing her to lean against me "and I still want to."
If she was intent on subduing my desire to continue with our incestuous sex and fully consummate the act, she wasn't doing a great job. Even as she tried to talk me out of it, Tzuyu had taken me in her hand and was using the fluids that she'd left on me to slide up and down on my cock. I flinched because I was still close to my climax
"That's bad Oppaā¦ I'm in the middle of my cycle and you still wanna come in my pussyā¦ in your little sister's pussy?"
I only moaned in response.
"I wonder what it feels like," she said, working her hand on my tip and leaning in so I could feel her breath on my ear. "I wonder what it would feel like if you squirted all your sticky cum inside me?"
"Fuck Tzuyu," I swore as she teased me.
"But we can'tā¦" she said, never stopping the movement of her hand, "if you didā¦ if you picked me up and fucked me right nowā¦ until your big cock squirted all your sperm in meā¦"
"Tzuyu, stopā¦"
"You could get me pregnant, you can't get your little sister pregnantā¦" she said unrelentingly, "what would mom and dad do?"
I couldn't take it much longer. My naked, teenage little sister was too tempting and her words were giving me visions of her belly showing the signs of our incest.
"If they knew my big brother had cum in my pussy, without any protectionā¦
Oh God that would be so naughty," she whispered while her hips thrust her needy mound against my thigh. "fuck, uhhhh."
It was the adorable sound she made as she spoke that forced me to act.
I grabbed her, hard, standing up from my seat and wrapping an arm around her like a naughty child. I swiftly shouldered the shower door and brought her out into the room. On the floor was a furry looking bath mat: the place where I was going to finish with my little sister.
"Whaā¦what are you doing!?" she asked as if she didn't already know.
"You know what I'm gonna do Tzuyuā¦" I said with hungry eyes as I laid her on the ground with a thud. I watched her beautiful tits shake and marveled at her young body laid out for the taking beneath me.
"I'm gonna fuck you like you've been asking forā¦" I was bound by an animalistic drive, "and then I'm gonna cum in that tight little pussy of yours."
"Noā¦ Oppaā¦ I" she stuttered, she looked nervous and cute and I was a million miles away from stopping. "I was just being meanā¦ I didn't think you really wouuOOUUUuHHWWW"
I had kneeled at her entrance and pushed my tip into the tiny slit between her lips before she had even begun to protest. There was no chance her words could reach me now.
"Ouhhhh fuuuck Oppa," she tried to yell, but I covered her mouth with my hand. I didn't want our family to interrupt this last thing I had to do if they heard us.
Tzuyu tried and failed to push me off with both hands on my chest as I slid my cock into her in one steady stroke. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a muffled cry into my hand. I took both of her tiny hands over her head in one of my large ones and weighed down on them as I leaned over her.
Her look was a combined one of dismay and pleasure simultaneously. She tried to wiggle free but only succeeded in stimulating my buried member further. I released my hand from her mouth, her eyes begged me to let her speak.
"Ughhhhā¦ fuck you!" she spat as I thrust into her roughly. Her petite body below me was mesmerizing to watch shake each time our hips connected, "Fuuuuckā¦ ouuhhh owwwā¦ I hate you!"
I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea, but I leaned in close to kiss her. Tzuyu let my lips connect for a second and then bit my lip. I tried to pull back but she wouldn't let me go. So I forced my hips even harder against her; my tip found my little sister's cervix and prodded it roughly.
She released her hold on my sore bottom lip and gasped. "Ohhh goooddd," she breathed, "Uhhhfuuuckā¦"
I daringly darted my tongue to flick her lip as she was distracted. She didn't pull away. I slid my cock out and back into her again, and she let me press my lips to hers. She kept them pursed at first, resisting. So I thrust into her again and felt her jaw loosen. Twice more and she opened her mouthā¦ and then we were making out, forcefully.
It was the hottest, angriest sex I'd ever had, and I was very near cumming in my little sister. I left her hands where they were, restrained above her head and grabbed on to her hips. I needed to hold her tiny pelvis as I prepared to climax.
Her hands stayed above her head for a moment, I could tell she was overcome by the feeling of being so roughly handled by her brother and still dealing with the relentless thrusts I was delivering into her. She looked up at me,
"Don't," she warned, her eyes fierce.
"I won'tā¦ughā¦" I said, "If you won't."
I had no idea if I could hold my end, but I was pretty sure that by the way my little sister's body was writhing and squirming in my hands that she would soon be helpless to stop herself cumming.
She darted her hands to my back and dug in, scratching me as I pounded her teenage pussy and desperately tried to withhold until she was overcome. As her fingers raked my skin I knew she'd leave a mark. It only made me fuck her harder, deeper. Her legs we wide and her hair was splayed out on the ground. With each drive, her whole body shook and she could do nothing to prevent her whining as I watched my little sister reach the edge and teeter with wide eyes upon me before she finally toppled.
"Ouuuuuuwhhhh oouuuhhhā¦" she howled, gasping for breath
Her thighs clenched around my waist and I could feel her heels on my buttocks. Instead of nails, I felt her tiny fingers holding onto my upper arms for dear life.
And thenā¦ blackness. I saw stars as I rolled my eyes back and buried into my little sister's vulnerable little pussy. I was glad she was holding me so tight because it grounded me as I began the most prolonged orgasm of my life. I felt my cock swell inside her, and my balls tightened to release the first flood of cum into the warm entrenchment of my little sister's quim. I listened to her squeal, knowing she sensed in as each rope of semen splashed her insides and searched to find the perfect path to her womb.
"Ohmygodā¦ughhhā¦I can feelā¦," my little sister breathed through her orgasm, I could hear the strain in her voice, "I can feel you cumming in me!"
I groaned with excruciating sensation as I withdrew a fraction of an inch and then mashed my hips against Tzuyu again, spouting yet another torrent of sperm into her fertile young pussy. Each time I did, I felt my little sister's body tense and her hands squeeze tightly. Seeing her climax was almost as rewarding as having emptied an incredible amount of seed inside of her.
I still held onto her body tight; the shower still ran relentlessly behind us, and for a few seconds my cock refused to stop emitting its incestuous contents into my baby sister. Even then, I knew that if there was any truth to what Tzuyu had told me, she could be pregnant by the very load that now threatened to seep out of her.
I had collapsed on top of her, still trying to hold myself up so I didn't crush my petite little sister. Her breaths were labored, and mine equally so. I could feel her hands gently draped on my back, and her breasts and midsection hot, damp and mashed against me.
It was an indiscriminate amount of time before Tzuyu rolled us over. I tried to help, but she did most of the work. My cock had refused to soften, so it stayed lodged inside of her as she came to straddle me in the middle of the bathroom floor.
Again, silence. Tzuyu halted in a prominent position, knees bent and surrounding my hips tightly. Her eyes were, at first, focused on the place where my cock remained stuffed into her teenage pussy. Our fluids were eking out of the tautly split lips at her opening. Slowly, my little sister lifted her beautiful blue eyes to me. I watched her intently and met her gaze without a blink or a word.
I knew that look; I'd seen it a million times before. She squinted at me and furrowed her brows, looking angry. I didn't flinch. She tried to glare more intently. But slowly, surely, her pursed lips gave way. She did this when she was trying to pretend she was mad at me but knew she was simply acting.
I took hold of her hips; her eyes following my hands. I could probably fuck the little brunette again right then, but I just wanted to give her a jolt. She was small enough that I could urge her up an inch on my cock before dropping her back onto me. I watched as her whole body cringed.
And then she broke out into a full, gorgeous smile before giggling, though she was trying hard not to.
"Youā¦" she said with her big blues, "are a JERK!"
I laughed outright, "What did I do?" I asked with a drawl.
"Ha!" she scoffed, "Are you fucking serious?"
I just smiled at her. Tzuyu directed her eyes between us to where my manhood stuck proudly up into her channel. I was dreading the moment, but as we watched she began to lift herself up and off of my cock. It felt like it took forever, but when she reached my tip, she paused and looked at me again, knowing what we were about to see.
She freed my head from inside of her, and after a second or two, the white gleam of my sperm showed between her recovering pussy lips. After all the cum I had shot deep into her that was surely now making its way to impregnate her, there was still plenty left that dripped out onto my head and shaft which lingered just below.
"Ohā¦ myā¦ God!" she complained. "Areā¦ youā¦FUCKINGā¦SERIOUS?!"
Again, that adorable look on her face. I knew she'd be mad, but she couldn't hide her smirk. Some of her had to know that she'd been teasing me into a situation just like this.
"Do you always cum this much?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
"Hmmmā¦" I pondered, "nahhā¦ only when my little sister's been a cock-tease for about a week."
"Fuck you!" She snapped back, "I should just tell mom and dad that you fucked meā¦ no raped me in the shower and then came in my pussy without a condom or anything!"
"Ha-ha you go ahead, but don't leave out the part where you jerked your brother off while he was taking a nap, or the part where youā¦"
"Oh shut up!" Tzuyu interrupted, "I'm not gonna tell them anything, because then I'd have to tell them how I'm not gonna take the morning after pill either."
"Whaā¦" I started, unable to find words. I hadn't thought it through, I might have been turned on by the thought of getting my little sister pregnant, but I thought for sure she'd be against it. I'd filled Tzuyu up with cum without really considering it.
"You heard me, it's, like, terrible for your whole body and I'm not fucking taking it." She said confidently. Then her face changed a little; she bit the corner of her lip and spoke more softly.
"Plus, it makes me really horny thinking about my big brother getting me pregnantā¦"
My mouth was agape, I must have looked silly.
"You can close that mouth of yours big brother. You are the one who wanted to cum inside me so badly, now deal with it."
And she was right. I had fucked my little sister and spurted my cum into her with full understanding of the risks only minutes ago. And now that I really thought about it, I would do it again.
"Well, you little slutā¦" Tzuyu gasped and slapped me, I responded slapping her ass with both hands and leaving them there..
"I guess you won't mind then if I fuck you again!"
"Waitā¦ Iā¦noā¦" She attempted to say as I quickly grasped her and lined up her entrance with my cock. Before she could utter another word I lifted my hips and brought her down so my cock, covered in my overflown cum, was once again buried at home in the eighteen-year-old's pussy
I was overcome by lust, fueled by the thought of filling up my baby sister again, and roused by her defiant attitude and willingness to risk pregnancy. I sat up, bent my knees below me, and cradled Tzuyu's soft little ass in my hands.
She resisted at first, probably sore from the pummeling of moments before. But her walls were coated in our fluids and my cock slid more easily between them. Before long, Tzuyu was moaning again and complementing my strenuous effort to make love to her. I couldn't drive as deeply into her, but I loved how the two of us worked together to fuck each other like long-lost lovers.
"God I love the way you fuck me," Tzuyu told me.
"I could do this forever sis," I said as we stared into each other's eyes.
"Well how about you just fill me up againā¦ uhhh fuckā¦ for nowā¦ouhhhhā¦I wanna feel you cum inside me again!"
Like before, we kissed and then made out arduously. My palms stayed locked onto her plump backside, I could tell she was too weak to stay up on her own. And fortunately, before long, I felt the familiar tightening deep within my groin and the following jolt of sensation that would couple my orgasm.
I don't remember if Tzuyu came. I think she did, because I remember her whimpering, practically sobbing as I urged my cock snugly inside of her. As if I had not already done enough, I began adding yet another surge of my forbidden semen to my little sister's laden pussy. It gushed forth and Tzuyu whined as she felt it splatter deep within. I came so hard for the second time that it hurt, and when I was done I nearly tossed my little toy aside for I could hold her no more.
She panted and laughed at the same time, and I watched her as she laid out on the floor. Her opening, outer lips, and the tiny channel within were soon shining with the unruly cum I'd spent into her. Her beautiful body shimmered with sweat and her breasts heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath.
I heard Tzuyu laughing; she was as shocked at the whole experience as I.
My little sisterā¦ laid outā¦ untouched until I'd gotten in the shower with herā¦ and now, if fate would have it, filled twice and made pregnant by her older brother's semenā¦
I struggled to catch my breath too, and eventually I laid down beside her and took her in my arms. I have no idea how we got so lucky that nobody had come to find us. I'd later find out that our family had been in the pool and nobody was willing to get out and call us down. For if they had, the state they would have found us in would have beenā¦ dramatic
"Well that wasā¦ interesting." she said when she'd finally come to.
"Just interesting?" I asked
"It was a lot of things Oppa," she continued, "a lot of things I'd like to do again."
I leaned in and kissed her, long and slow.
"Whatever you want little sis, though, maybe we ought to be a little more careful next time."
"Where's the fun in that?" She asked with a naughty smirk.
After that we showered together, playing and touching each other and watching as my cum leaked down my little sister's leg. A couple times she tried to hold the fluid inside of her that kept making its way out, but it was no use. I told her I would love to fuck her again, but she begged me not to as she was too sore from the first two times I had. Instead I simply played with her entire body and we stayed within inches of each other for the duration of the shower.
When we were done, Tzuyu wrapped a towel around herself and peeked out of the bathroom. She checked up and down the hall before whispering to me that the coast was clear. She didn't have an extra towel so I was stark naked, and before I sidled out into the hall, I snagged the towel from her and pinned her against the wall at the entrance to her bedroom.
I kissed her, and she kissed me right back. I held her tight, and she grasped me like she'd never let go. My erection threatened to go right back where it belonged as it poked between us, and she giggled as it prodded her below.
"Get out of here!" she warned.
"Alright alright," I said regretfully.
Of course, I pinned her one last time against the wall and put a hand on her breast and one on her butt while stealing one last kiss. I held her tight as I took her in for the last time in however long it would take to be back at her side. Her tongue lingered beyond her lips as I pulled away and left her wanting at the door.
Just as I made it to my room I heard our father call. "Kids! What the heck are you doing?"
I yelled something about being right down, and he just assumed we'd been texting in our rooms or something of the like. Before I went in the door, I saw Tzuyu step halfway out of her door, daringly, and put one arm over her breasts while biting her finger and one over her pussy. The pose was something out of a dream, and I'd spend every minute of that day remembering it until I found myself once again fucking my little sister senseless.
When we came back downstairs, our family was none the wiser. I watched my little sister swim around playfully and chat with our family, knowing that her little pussy was still filled with my cum, her big brother's cum, even though she was still acting like her usual, innocent self.
"What were you two doing up there?" my mother asked.
"Just taking a quick nap and a shower," Tzuyu answered, smiling my direction when she knew nobody could see "I needed to rest up and get ready to take my big brother like I said I would."
I couldn't believe my ears. I just nodded and acted disinterested; how Tzuyu was able to lie like that, knowing the truth and hiding it perfectly, I just do not understand.
"Think you're up to the challenge after dinner Oppa?" she asked me, "cuz' I'll be ready for you."
I mumbled something and flashed her a very concerned look when she stopped egging me on. She smiled and gave me that naughty look again, knowing that I'd be fucking her senseless just like she was asking me to right in front of our family like it was no big deal.
If only they knew.
I have no idea how long our secret can stay hidden, but I can't help myself around Tzuyu anymore. She's even more insatiable than me, and our dangerous behavior has only gotten worse since we first started up. But, I don't regret one bit the day I decided to be lazy and take a nap in my little sister's room rather than mine. I love Tzuyu more than anything else in the world, and I know we're both glad that we finally became more than just brother and sister on that day. Someday, maybe soon, we both know what might happen: I'll sit by her side and help explain how happy my little sister and I are together, and why we're so excited to be adding another member to the familyā¦when that time comes.
Until then, I'll be spending every minute I can finding out just how naughty my little sister Tzuyu can beā¦ All because of a nap.
The security breach at the Mnet recording studio had been minor ā a sasaeng who'd slipped past the first cordon, made it as far as the green room hallway before security tackled him ā but management wasn't taking chances. Not with NewJeans. Not when every comeback meant another tier of fame, another layer of threat.
That's where Y/N came in.
He stood six-foot-four with shoulders that filled doorframes and hands that could wrap around a basketball with fingers to spare. The suit was custom, black, cut to accommodate the thickness of his chest, the width of his back. His skin was deep brown, close-shaved head, a jaw that looked carved from something harder than bone. When he walked into a room, conversations didn't stop ā they hushed. People felt him before they saw him.
The girls had been briefed: Y/N, former special operations, private security contractor, nine years of experience. He'd be on the overnight rotation, dormitory security, 10 PM to 6 AM. His presence was non-negotiable.
He took his position in the living room of the dorm ā a sprawling seventh-floor apartment in Gangnam with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Han River. The rest of the security detail worked rotations outside, but he was the static presence. The last line.
Hanni and Haerin had gone to bed by eleven. Danielle and Hyein followed by midnight, leaving only the glow of the city through the glass and the occasional creak of the building settling.
And Minji.
She came out of her bedroom at 1:47 AM wearing silk pajamas ā a pale lavender camisole and shorts that rode high on her thighs. Her hair was down, dark and straight, falling past her shoulders. She was twenty-two, the leader of the biggest girl group in Asia, and she moved like she knew exactly what every line of her body did to a room.
"You're still here," she said, padding barefoot into the kitchen. Her voice was soft, casual, like she'd just noticed him. She let out a small sigh as she opened the refrigerator, the sound deliberate, theatrical.
"I'm always here," Y/N said from his position by the window. His voice was low, a bass rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor. "That's the point."
She opened the refrigerator, bent over to look inside. The shorts rode up. The curve of her ass pressed against the silk, and she took her time straightening, a bottle of water in her hand. She twisted the cap off slowly, let the cold plastic touch her lips.
"I couldn't sleep," she said, twisting the cap. "Too much energy."
"Then you should rest."
"I don't want to rest." She walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. Close enough that he could smell her ā coconut and shea butter, clean skin, something floral underneath. "What do you do all night, just stand here?"
"Watch."
"Watch what?"
He turned his head, looked down at her. His eyes were dark, unreadable. "Everything."
Minji felt something curl in her stomach. A heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the apartment. Her boyfriend of two years ā a producer at ADOR, soft-handed and careful, always asking permission ā hadn't looked at her like that in months. Hadn't looked at her like she was something to be taken.
"What do you see?" she asked, her voice thinner than she wanted.
Y/N didn't answer. He just watched her, his gaze traveling from her eyes to her mouth to the line of her throat, slow and deliberate. She felt it like a touch.
"You should go back to bed," he said finally.
"Or what?"
A pause. His jaw tightened.
"Or nothing. I'm not here to tell you what to do. I'm here to keep you safe."
Minji wet her lips. "And what if I don't want to be safe?"
The words hung between them. She saw something flicker in those dark eyes ā interest, hunger, control held in check.
"Go to bed, Minji."
It was the first time he'd said her name. Just her name, no honorific, no formality. Like she was anyone. Like she was his.
She went.
But she didn't sleep. She lay in her bed, thighs pressed together, thinking about the way his voice dropped when he said her name. Thinking about those hands. Thinking about what they could do. She pressed her palm between her legs and sighed into the darkness, imagining those thick fingers instead of her own.
A week passed. Minji found excuses.
Late-night water runs. Forgotten phone chargers. A glass of wine she nursed for an hour while sitting on the living room couch, wearing less and less each night. She'd sigh loudly when she stretched, let the sounds carry across the room.
He never approached. Never initiated. But his eyes tracked her ā she felt them like a brand. When she bent to pick up a dropped earring, when she stretched in the kitchen with her arms above her head, when she crossed and uncrossed her legs on the couch, the silk of her shorts doing nothing to hide the shape of her thighs.
He was a statue. Patient. Waiting.
On the eighth night, she came out wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. No shorts. No bra. The shirt fell to mid-thigh, and the nipples of her medium breasts pressed against the thin cotton. She'd put on lip gloss and a touch of perfume. She'd brushed her hair until it shone.
She walked straight to him.
"I want to know," she said, stopping inches away. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "What you think about. When you watch me."
Y/N looked down at her. His hands were clasped behind his back ā military posture, controlled. "You don't want to know that."
"Yes, I do."
"It's not appropriate."
"I don't care about appropriate." Her voice cracked. "I have a boyfriend who touches me like I'm made of glass. Who asks if it's okay before he kisses me. Who finishes in thirty seconds and rolls over and goes to sleep." She was shaking now, the words spilling out. "I don't want gentle. I wantā"
She stopped. Couldn't say it.
"What do you want, Minji?"
"Someone to take what they want from me."
The silence stretched. She could hear her own heartbeat. She heard his breathing ā slow, controlled, measured.
Then Y/N moved.
His hand came up, caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His grip was iron. He tilted her face up, made her look at him.
"You don't know what you're asking for."
"Then show me."
He studied her for a long moment. His thumb traced across her lower lip, pressing just enough to part her mouth.
"If we do this," he said, his voice a low growl, "we do it my way. You don't tell anyone. You don't say no. And when I'm done with you, you crawl back to that boyfriend and pretend nothing happened. You understand?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I understand."
"Good girl."
The praise hit her like a shock. Her knees went weak. A soft sigh escaped her lips ā the sound of surrender.
He released her chin, stepped back. "Your room. Now. Lock the door behind us."
She led him down the hall, heart hammering. Her bedroom was dark, lit only by the city glow through the curtains. She heard the door click shut, heard the lock turn.
Then she heard his belt unbuckle. The sound of metal sliding through leather. She sucked in a breath.
"Turn around."
She faced him. He stood between her and the door, a shadow against the dim light. His jacket was off. The white dress shirt stretched across his chest, the top two buttons undone. His forearms were thick, veins visible.
"Take off the shirt."
Her fingers fumbled at the hem. She pulled it over her head, stood naked in front of him.
He looked at her. Took his time. His eyes moved from her breasts ā medium, full, nipples hard ā down the flat plane of her stomach to the dark patch between her thighs.
"On your knees."
She dropped.
The hardwood was cold against her knees. She looked up at him, waiting. Her breath came in shallow pants.
He unbuttoned his pants, pushed them down. His boxer briefs strained against the length of him ā a thick, heavy bulge that made her mouth go dry. She could see the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric, the sheer size of it making her thighs clench.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed his briefs down.
His cock sprang free, and she gasped.
It was massive. Twenty centimeters, dark as the rest of him, thick as her wrist. The head was broad and flared, already slick with precum that glistened in the dim light. A thick vein ran along the underside, pulsing. It stood heavy and hard, pointing toward her face like a weapon, like a threat.
"Haaah..." The sigh escaped her before she could stop it. A sound of pure awe.
"You like what you see?"
"Yes," she whispered. "God, yes."
"Open your mouth."
She did. Her jaw dropped, her tongue extended slightly, waiting.
He stepped closer, took himself in his hand, and slapped his cock against her cheek.
The impact was sharp, wet. The thick shaft connected with her skin, leaving a trail of precum across her cheekbone. She moaned.
"That's what you wanted, isn't it? A man who treats you like a hole."
He slapped her other cheek with it, the sound cracking through the quiet room. Her head turned with the impact. She moaned again, louder this time.
"Say it."
"Yes," she breathed.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good fucking girl."
He drew his arm back and slapped her face with his cock again ā harder this time, the thick shaft landing across her lips and nose. The impact stung, and she felt her eyes water, but between her legs, her pussy clenched around nothing.
"Look at you," he said, his voice a low growl. "Getting wet from getting your face slapped with a cock."
He did it again. And again. Each slap landed across her cheeks, her lips, her chin. He used the full length of his shaft, from the thick base to the flared head, smearing precum across her face until her skin glistened.
"You love this, don't you?"
"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, sir, I love it."
"Tell me what you love."
"Your cock. Slapping my face with your cock. Making me your ā your whore."
"Whose whore?"
"Yours. Y/N's whore."
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Her face was tilted up toward the ceiling, her throat exposed. Her cheeks were wet with tears and precum.
"Open wider."
She dropped her jaw as far as it would go. He guided the head of his cock to her lips, pushed past them. The taste hit her tongue ā salt and musk, male, overwhelming. He didn't wait for her to adjust. He thrust forward, filling her mouth in one smooth motion.
She gagged. Her hands flew up to his thighs, but she didn't push. She held on, fingers digging into the muscle as his cock slid deeper, stretching her throat, cutting off her air.
"That's it," he grunted. "Take it. Take all of it."
He pulled back, let her breathe for half a second, then thrust again, deeper this time. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she felt her eyes water, drool spilling from the corners of her stretched lips.
"Look at you. Minji the idol, drooling on her knees for a cock. What would your fans think?"
She couldn't answer. Couldn't do anything but take it, her throat convulsing around his length as he fucked her face in steady, brutal strokes. The drool ran down her chin, dripped onto her breasts. The sounds she made ā guttural, animal, wet ā filled the room.
"Your boyfriend ever fuck your throat like this?" He pulled out, let her gasp for air. His cock was slick with her saliva, glistening in the dim light. "Answer me."
"No," she choked, coughing. "He neverā"
"No. He doesn't know what to do with a woman like you." He grabbed her hair, twisted his fist in the dark strands, and yanked her head back. "You need a real man. A man who isn't afraid to hurt you."
"Yes," she whimpered. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck my throat."
He didn't give her time to prepare. He grabbed the base of his cock and shoved it back into her mouth, but this time he kept going ā past her throat, past the point where she'd ever taken anything before. The sheer size of him stretched her esophagus wide, the thick shaft forcing its way deeper than she thought possible. Her eyes flew open, tears spilling down her cheeks before she even understood she was crying.
"Take it," he growled, his voice a low rumble above her. "Take every fucking inch."
She tried. Her throat rebelled against the intrusion, convulsing around the massive length buried inside her. His cock was too thick, too long, and her throat wasn't built for something this size. She gagged violently, her hands flying up to his thighs, nails digging into his skin as her body fought to reject him. But he held her there, one hand fisted in her hair, keeping her locked in place. The tears came faster now, streaming down her face, mixing with the drool that poured from the corners of her stretched lips. "Haaaah... nngh... please..." The sounds were barely human, muffled by the flesh filling her throat.
"You're crying," he said, and there was dark satisfaction in his voice. "Crying because my cock is too big for your little throat. Look at you ā Minji, the perfect idol, crying on her knees because she can't handle a real man's size." She nodded frantically, tears and saliva coating her chin, her nose pressed against his pelvis. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All she could do was feel ā the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness of having his entire twenty-centimeter length buried in her throat. "But you're going to take it anyway, aren't you?" Another desperate nod. More tears. "That's my girl."
He held her there for fifteen more seconds, letting her struggle, letting her cry, letting her feel every pulsing millimeter of his cock in her throat. Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred. And still he kept her there, buried to the hilt, until she was completely broken. Then he pulled out slowly, letting her feel every ridge, every vein on the way out. She collapsed forward, gasping, coughing, tears and drool and snot covering her face. Her throat burned. Her jaw ached. And between her legs, her pussy was soaking. He grabbed her chin, forced her to look up at him. "Good girl. You took all of it. I knew you could."
He shoved his cock back into her mouth, deeper than before. Her nose pressed against his pelvis, his balls against her chin. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Her throat stretched around him, and she heard herself making sounds she'd never made before ā desperate, pleading sounds ā as he held her there, buried to the hilt.
He stayed. Let her struggle. Let her lungs burn. Her hands beat weakly against his thighs.
Then he pulled out, and she collapsed forward, coughing, gasping, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his cock.
"On the bed. Face down."
She crawled to the bed, climbed on, settled on her stomach. She heard him moving behind her, felt the mattress dip with his weight. His hands found her hips, pulled her up onto her knees. Her ass was in the air, her pussy exposed, dripping.
"Pretty pussy," he muttered. He ran a finger through her folds, and she bucked at the contact. She was soaking ā her slick coated his finger, glistened in the dim light. "So wet for me. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?"
"All week," she admitted. "Every night. I couldn't ā I kept thinking about you. About your hands. Aboutā"
"About my cock."
"Yes. Fuck, yes."
"All week." He pushed two fingers into her without warning, and she cried out, her back arching. "Should have taken you the first night. Bent you over that counter and filled you up."
"Yes," she sobbed. "Yes, please, I needā"
"Need what?"
"Your cock. Please, sir, I need your cock inside me."
He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the head of his cock. He didn't push in. He just pressed, the broad head stretching her entrance, teasing her. She could feel how wide he was, how much he was going to stretch her.
"Beg."
"Please. Please, sir, fuck me. I need your cock inside my pussy. I need you to fill me up. I needā"
He thrust forward in one brutal motion, burying himself to the hilt.
She screamed.
The stretch was incredible ā a burning fullness that pushed at the walls of her pussy, spreading her wider than she'd ever been. She felt him in her stomach, an impossible pressure that made her gasp and moan and claw at the sheets. Her eyes rolled back.
"Fuck," he growled. "Tight little thing. Squeezing me already."
"Haaaah... fuck... oh fuck..." The sighs poured out of her, breathy and broken.
He didn't give her time to adjust. He started moving, long deep strokes that pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust pushed her forward on the bed, her breasts swinging, her moans turning into wordless cries.
He reached under her, grabbed her throat, and pulled her up against his chest. The change in angle made his cock reach deeper, and she felt the head press against something inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes.
"That's your spot, isn't it?" He tightened his grip on her throat, cutting off her air. "Right there."
She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. She just nodded frantically as he fucked into that spot over and over, his hips slapping against her ass, the sound wet and obscene.
He released her throat, shoved her back down onto the bed. His hand came down on her ass ā a hard, open-palmed slap that echoed through the room. The sting radiated through her flesh, and she moaned into the pillow.
"Count."
"One."
Slap. Her ass cheek jiggled from the impact.
"Two."
Slap.
"Three."
He spanked her rhythmically, alternating cheeks, the impacts landing sharp and precise. Her ass burned. Her pussy clenched around him. She was counting through moans, losing track, starting over.
"Please," she begged. "Harder."
He obliged. His hand came down harder, faster, turning her ass crimson. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face, but she'd never felt more alive. Each slap sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her clit.
"Such a dirty slut," he said, his voice a growl against her ear. "Getting off on being treated like garbage."
"Yes," she sobbed. "I'm your dirty slut. I'm yourāyour whore. Please don't stop."
He grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, his pace punishing. The bedframe slammed against the wall. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle her screams, but she could still hear the sounds ā the wet slap of his cock driving into her, his grunts, her own desperate pleas.
"I'm going to fill this pussy," he said. "I'm going to pump you so full of my cum it drips out of you for a week."
"Please. Please, I want it."
"Too bad." He pulled out abruptly, and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness. "Turn over."
She rolled onto her back. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was swollen, glistening, the lips parted and pink from the abuse. Her slick ran down her thighs.
He climbed over her, positioned himself between her thighs, and drove back in.
This angle was different ā deeper, more intense. He leaned forward, his weight pressing her into the mattress, and wrapped his hand around her throat.
"Look at me."
She met his eyes. The dark expanse of him filled her vision ā broad shoulders blocking the light, sweat glistening on his skin. She could feel his heartbeat through his palm on her neck.
"You're mine," he said. "When I want you, you come. When I tell you to open, you open. When I tell you to cumā"
He thrust hard, grinding against her clit.
"āyou cum."
"Yes," she breathed.
His hand moved from her throat to her stomach. He pressed down, his palm flat against her lower belly.
"Feel that?"
She did. She felt the hard ridge of his cock through the wall of her stomach, a visible bulge that moved with each thrust. The sight of it ā the proof of how deep he was inside her ā made her moan. Her hand flew down to touch it, to feel the shape of him through her own skin.
"That's me. Right there. You feel how deep I am?"
"Yes. Yes, I feel you."
"Good." He pressed harder, pushing against his own cock through her body. "I want you to remember this. Remember what it feels like to have a real man inside you."
"Fuck... haaaaaah..." The sigh was long and ragged. "I'll never forget. Never."
He fucked her slowly now, each thrust deliberate, grinding against her cervix. The bulge in her stomach moved with him, and she watched it, transfixed, her hands gripping his forearms. She could see the outline of his cock sliding in and out of her body, a constant visible reminder of how completely he owned her.
"Touch yourself."
Her hand moved between her legs. Her clit was swollen, sensitive, and the moment her fingers made contact, she gasped. She circled it frantically, already so close.
"Cum for me."
She didn't need to be told twice. The orgasm crashed through her, her body convulsing, her pussy clenching around him in waves. She cried out his name, the sound torn from her throat. He kept fucking her through it, driving deeper, harder, chasing his own release.
"I'm going to cum in your mouth," he said. "Open."
He pulled out, his cock slick and glistening with her juices. He moved up her body, straddled her chest, and pressed the head against her lips. She tasted herself on him ā her slick, her cum, the salt of his skin.
"Open wide."
She parted her lips. He pushed past them, and she tasted everything. He thrust into her mouth, fucking her face as his hips jerked, his breathing ragged.
"Cum for me, sir," she said as best she could around his cock.
He groaned, a deep animal sound, and she felt his release hit the back of her throat ā thick and hot, pulsing in waves. She swallowed, took every drop, her tongue working his shaft as he emptied himself into her mouth. His cum coated her throat, and she swallowed again and again.
When he pulled out, she kept her mouth open, showing him she'd swallowed it all. A string of cum connected her lower lip to the head of his cock.
"Good girl."
She smiled, drowsy and content. He moved off the bed, found her discarded shirt, and tossed it at her.
Over the next three weeks, Minji learned what it meant to belong to someone.
They met every night. Sometimes in her room. Sometimes in the storage closet off the practice studio. Once, in the back of his blacked-out SUV, parked in an underground lot while cameras swept the floors above.
He taught her things she'd never known about her own body. How much she could take. How much she could beg for.
She learned to kneel without being told. To keep her eyes down unless he commanded otherwise. To present herself ā spread, exposed, ready ā the moment he walked through the door.
He tied her wrists to the headboard with silk scarves. Bound her ankles to the footboard, spread so wide her hips ached. Blindfolded her with a strip of black satin, leaving her in darkness, vulnerable, every nerve alive and waiting.
"You don't know what I'm going to do," he said, his voice coming from somewhere to her left. "You don't know if I'm going to fuck you or hurt you or leave you here."
"Please," she said, her voice small. She could hear her own heartbeat in the darkness.
"Please what?"
"Please do something. Anything. I can't ā I hate not knowing."
"I am. I'm making you wait."
She heard his footsteps circle the bed. The creak of the floorboards told her where he was. She felt the breeze when he moved past. Smelled his skin ā cedar and musk and something darker. Her breath came faster.
When he finally touched her, her whole body jerked. His hand on her thigh, callused and warm, sliding up to her hip. She gasped.
"You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Thinking about my cock."
"Yes."
"Thinking about me filling your throat. Your pussy. Making you cum until you can't move."
"God, yes."
His hand cupped her pussy, his fingers sliding through her slick folds. "You're soaked. Just from my voice."
"Because I know what you can do to me. Haaaaah... I know what you're going toā"
"You know what I'm going to do tonight?"
"No," she gasped.
"I'm going to make you forget your own name. I'm going to fuck you until the only word you remember is mine."
He pulled his fingers out, and she heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, his pants dropping. Then the head of his cock pressed against her lips, and she opened for him without being told.
"Good girl. You're learning."
He fucked her mouth while she was still blindfolded, his hands gripping her hair, guiding her pace. She couldn't see how much she was drooling, but she felt it ā the wetness running down her chin, pooling in the hollow of her throat. She tasted herself on him, tasted the precum leaking from the head.
When he came, it was down her throat, and she swallowed every drop. Then he untied her, flipped her onto her stomach, and fucked her until she screamed his name into the pillow.
Those first weeks were a blur of pleasure and pain. He introduced her to things she'd only read about in dark corners of the internet. He made her say degrading things and found that they made her wetter. He spanked her until she couldn't sit comfortably during recording sessions, and she loved the secret ache.
One night, he didn't fuck her immediately. He laid her out on the bed, spread her legs wide, and knelt between them. The air was cool against her wet skin, her pussy already glistening from anticipation.
"I want to watch you fall apart from my fingers first," he said, his voice low. "Before I put my cock in you. I want to see what your pussy does when I touch it just right."
"Yes, sir," she breathed, her thighs trembling.
He pushed two thick fingers into her pussy without warning, curling them upward immediately, searching. She gasped as he found the rough patch on her front wall ā a spot that made electricity shoot through her entire body. Her back arched off the bed.
"Right there," he said, his voice full of dark satisfaction. "I felt that. Your pussy just clenched around my fingers."
"Haaaah... yes... right there..."
He worked his fingers in and out, pressing hard against that spot with each stroke, his palm grinding against her clit. The sounds were wet and obscene ā her slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist. Her hips bucked against his fingers, chasing the pressure.
"Please," she gasped. "Please, sir, I'm ā I'm close ā"
"I know you are. I can feel you tightening."
He curled his fingers harder, pressing deep into her g-spot with relentless precision. His thumb pressed down on her clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. She felt the pressure building ā that strange dam about to burst, different from a normal orgasm, deeper and more terrifying.
"Let go," he commanded. "Squirt for me, Minji. Show me what my fingers can do to you."
She screamed as the pressure released. A hot stream shot from her pussy, soaking his hand, his forearm, the sheets beneath her. Her body convulsed as wave after wave poured out of her ā not cum, but something else, something clear and hot that kept coming. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, milking them, as the fluid sprayed across his skin.
"Fuck, yes," he growled, watching the fluid cascade down his wrist. "Look at you. My fingers made you squirt. These two fingers right here." He curled them again, pressing into her g-spot, and another wave shot out of her. She sobbed, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
"Haaaah... please... I can't ā"
"You can. One more."
He pressed harder, faster, his fingers a blur inside her. Her third orgasm hit before she was ready, another gush of fluid soaking the bed, dripping down her ass, pooling beneath her hips. She collapsed, trembling, her pussy still clenching around nothing, her thighs soaked.
He pulled his slick fingers out slowly, letting her watch the strings of fluid connect his skin to hers. Then he brought them to her mouth.
"Taste yourself."
She opened her lips and sucked his fingers clean, tasting her own sweetness mixed with his skin, her eyes never leaving his.
"That's my girl," he said, stroking her hair. "Now I'm going to fuck that sensitive little pussy until you forget your own name."
"Stand against the wall," he said one night. "Arms up. Palms flat."
She obeyed. The plaster was cool against her naked breasts. She heard him moving behind her.
"You've been a good slut tonight."
"Thank you, sir."
"I think you deserve a reward."
He grabbed her hips, positioned himself, and slid into her from behind. She moaned, pressing her forehead against the wall.
"But first ā repeat after me."
"Anything."
"I am Y/N's personal whore."
"I am Y/N's personal whore."
"I exist to serve his cock."
"I exist to serve his cock."
"My pussy belongs to him."
"My pussy belongs to him." She was crying now, but she meant every word.
"Good girl."
He fucked her against the wall until she came, her legs shaking, her palms sliding down the plaster.
Minji's boyfriend called every night around eleven.
This had been true before Y/N. It remained true after. The phone would ring, and she'd answer, and they'd talk about his day, his work, his frustrations with the new girl group he was producing. He never asked about hers. Never noticed the rasp in her voice, the way she kept her answers short. The way she'd sigh when he talked about himself for too long.
Tonight, Y/N was behind her before the call connected.
She was on her knees on the bed, facing the wall, her phone propped against a pillow. The screen glowed with her boyfriend's face ā soft features, tired eyes, the same sweater he'd worn in every call for a month. Behind her, Y/N's hands gripped her hips, his cock pressed against her wet entrance, the head sliding through her slick folds.
"Hey, baby," Minji said, and her voice was steady. The trick was keeping it steady.
"Hey. You look tired."
She was. But not for the reasons he thought. She felt the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet. Just letting her feel the threat of it, the promise.
"Long practice," she managed. "The new choreography is killing me."
"I told you, you work too hard. You should rest."
Behind her, Y/N pushed in ā just the head. She bit her lip, hard enough to taste blood. His cock stretched her slowly, inch by inch, and she had to concentrate on keeping her face neutral, her voice even.
"It's just ā haaaah ā" The sigh escaped before she could stop it. She covered quickly. "Just exhausting. The practices go so late."
"Are you okay? You sound out of breath."
"Fine. Just tired. Haaaaah..." Another sigh. She couldn't help it. Y/N was pushing deeper now, his thickness spreading her walls apart, and every inch made her want to moan.
"You keep sighing," her boyfriend said, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." Her voice pitched higher as Y/N buried himself to the hilt. She gripped the sheets, her knuckles white. "Just ā haaaah ā relaxing. Finally sitting down."
"Your mom asked about you," he said, thankfully changing the subject. "She wants to know if you're coming to the family dinner next week."
"Tell her... tell her I'll try." Y/N pulled back slightly, then forward, a slow deep stroke that pushed the air from her lungs. "I have ā haaaah ā schedules. I don't know if I can."
"Again? You missed the last three."
"I know. I'm ā haaaah ā sorry. I'll try harder."
Y/N started moving in earnest, his thrusts slow and deep, designed to push the air from her lungs without letting her cry out. Her mouth opened in a silent moan. She forced her eyes to stay on the screen, to keep her face neutral.
"Why do you keep sighing like that?" her boyfriend asked, his eyes narrowing. "You sound... I don't know. Distracted."
"Just ā haaaah ā tired, baby. Really tired. The practices are ā ah ā intense."
"It sounds like more than tired."
Y/N fucked harder, his hips slapping against her ass with wet, muffled impacts. The sound was obscene, and she knew ā she knew ā he could hear it through the phone if he was listening closely. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple.
"I'm fine," she said, and it came out as a gasp. "Just ā haaaah ā really hot in here. The AC is broken."
"You said that last time. Maybe you should see a doctor."
"Maybe. Haaaaah..."
The rhythm was punishing now. Y/N's cock drove into her g-spot with every thrust, and she felt her face starting to contort. Her eyes wanted to roll back. Her tongue wanted to loll out. The ahegao was coming, and she couldn't stop it.
"Minji? Your face looks weird. Are you okay?"
"Fine!" The word came out too sharp, too fast. She forced a smile, but her pupils were disappearing, rolling up into her skull. "Just ā haaaah ā stretching. You know how ā haaaah ā stiff I get after practice."
"I guess. You sure you're not sick? You look flushed."
"I'm ā haaaah ā I'm sure."
Her jaw went slack. Drool started to escape the corner of her mouth. She caught it with her tongue, but more followed. Her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, her face a perfect mask of mind-breaking pleasure. She was barely holding on.
"I need to ā haaaah ā I have to go. Early call tomorrow."
"Already? We've only been talking for ā what was that sound?"
"What sound?"
"That... wet sound. Like slapping."
Her heart stopped. "Nothing. Just ā haaaah ā the fan. Old fan. Haaaaah..."
"It sounded like ā"
"I really have to go. I love you. Bye."
She ended the call before he could respond.
The moment the screen went black, she dropped the phone and screamed. Her face snapped into full ahegao ā eyes rolled back, tongue lolling, drool running down her chin ā as Y/N grabbed her by the hair and fucked her into the mattress.
"That was beautiful," he growled, yanking her head back. "Talking to your boyfriend with my cock in your pussy. All those sighs. Did he know? Did he fucking know?"
"No," she sobbed. "He didn't ā he couldn't ā"
"I think he did. I think he heard every wet slap. I think he knows his girlfriend is a slut for a thick black cock."
"Yes," she cried. "I'm a slut. I'm your slut."
"Say his name."
"Who?"
"The boyfriend. Say his name while I fuck you."
"J-Jungho," she choked out, her face still twisted in ahegao, drool pooling on the pillow.
"And whose pussy is this?"
"Yours. Fuck ā yours, sir."
"Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she sobbed. "I belong to you, Y/N."
He pulled her up, wrapped his hand around her throat from behind, and fucked her harder, deeper. Her face was fully contorted now ā ahegao, eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, tongue lolling out, drool running down her chin and dripping onto the sheets. She was a mess. She was beautiful.
"You're going to cum for me, and you're going to call my name while your boyfriend's picture watches."
"Iā"
"Cum. Now."
The orgasm ripped through her, violent and total. She screamed, a raw sound torn from her throat ā not his name, not any word, just a primal cry of release. She felt his hand tighten on her neck, felt his cock pulse inside her as he came, hot and thick, filling her pussy with rope after rope of cum.
When he pulled out, his cum dripped down her thighs in thick white streams. He pushed two fingers into her, scooping it up, and brought it to her lips.
"Clean."
She opened her mouth, sucked his fingers clean, tasting both of them together. Her eyes stayed on the phone screen, on her boyfriend's smiling face.
"Good girl," Y/N said, stroking her hair. "You did so well."
The missionary sessions became her favorite.
She didn't know why ā maybe because she could see him. The full weight of him, the dark expanse of his chest, the concentration on his face as he fucked her. She could watch his muscles work, watch the sweat bead on his skin, watch his jaw tighten when he was close. She could see the want in his eyes.
He had her on her back, legs hooked over his shoulders. His cock drove into her at an angle that made her see stars, the head pressing against her deepest, most sensitive places. Each thrust made her gasp.
His hand found her throat.
"Look down," he said.
She did. She saw the bulge in her stomach, the hard outline of his cock moving beneath her skin. It was unmistakable ā a ridged shape that rose and fell with each stroke. He pressed his palm against it, pushing down, and the pressure made her gasp.
"That's how deep I am. You see that?"
"Yes," she breathed. "Oh god, yes."
"This is what a real man feels like."
Her hand moved down, pressing against his, feeling the shape of him through her own body. The intimacy of it ā the proof of how completely he filled her, how he reached places inside her she didn't know existed ā made her sob. She could feel the head of his cock through her own belly, could trace its outline with her fingertips.
"You're going to feel this tomorrow," he said, his hips moving in slow, brutal thrusts. "Walking around with your members. Smiling for cameras. And you're going to remember my cock inside you."
"Yes."
"And you're going to smile wider, because you know something they don't."
"Yes."
He reached down, found her clit, and pinched it between his fingers. Hard. She gasped and bucked.
"Cum for me."
She did, her orgasm crashing through her like a wave. Her pussy clamped down on him, and he followed her over the edge, his cum flooding her, dripping out around his cock.
But he didn't stop.
He kept fucking her, even as she whimpered from oversensitivity, even as his cum turned to white froth around his shaft. He fucked her until he was hard again, until he was ready to fill her a second time.
"You said you wanted to feel it," he said. "So feel it."
He fucked her for two hours. Made her cum seven times. Filled her pussy, her mouth, the space between her breasts. When he was done, she couldn't walk. Could hardly speak. Her legs were jelly, her throat raw, her pussy aching and full.
She lay in the center of the bed, covered in sweat and cum, her body marked with fingerprints, her ass still red from spanking, her throat bruised from his grip. She was a masterpiece of use.
But this time, something different happened. As her pussy clamped down on him and her orgasm crested, she felt a pressure building ā a new kind of sensation, deeper than any climax she'd had before, like a dam about to burst. Her body tensed, her back arching off the bed. "Please," she gasped, her voice high and panicked. "Something's ā I don't know what ā"
"Let it go," he said, his voice low and commanding. He thrust harder, his cock driving into her g-spot with brutal precision. "Let it go, Minji. Don't hold back."
She screamed as the pressure released. A hot stream of fluid shot from her pussy, soaking his stomach, the sheets, her own thighs. She squirted ā hard and uncontrollable, her body convulsing as wave after wave of liquid poured out of her. She'd never done that before. Never even knew she could. The fluid ran down her ass, pooled beneath her hips, soaked the bed in a dark wet patch. "Holy fuck," he growled, watching the liquid cascade down his abs. "Look at you. Squirting all over my cock like a good little slut. Did your boyfriend ever make you do that?"
She couldn't answer. Couldn't do anything but lie there, trembling, as the last waves of fluid dripped from her swollen pussy. Her thighs were soaked. The sheets were ruined. She shook her head slowly, tears of overstimulation running down her temples. "N-no," she managed. "Never." He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "That's my girl. My perfect little squirter. Only I can make you do that."
He stood over her, still hard, his cock coated in a mixture of their fluids. It glistened in the dim light, thick and dark and utterly spent-looking, yet still erect.
"You need one more."
She looked up at him, exhausted but hungry. Her eyes were glassy, her lips swollen. "Please."
He climbed back on the bed, straddled her chest. His cock hung heavy above her face, thick and dark and still slick from her pussy. She could smell herself on him.
"Open."
She opened her mouth. He pressed the head against her tongue, and she tasted everything ā his cum, hers, the salt of his skin. Her eyes fluttered closed.
"Look at me."
He pulled out slowly, and she felt his cum leaking out of her immediately ā thick white streams running down her inner thighs, pooling on the sheets beneath her. He knelt between her legs, watching it drip out of her swollen, reddened pussy. The sight of his seed spilling from her body made him hard again instantly.
"Look at that," he said. He pushed two fingers into her, scooping up a generous amount of his cum, and brought it to her lips. "Open."
She parted her lips, and he pushed his fingers inside. She tasted herself and him together, the mixture warm and salty and intimate. She sucked his fingers clean, her eyes never leaving his. "That's what a real man leaves inside you," he said. "Not that boyfriend of yours who finishes in thirty seconds and rolls over."
She swallowed, her tongue working the last traces of his cum from her lips. "I want more," she whispered. "I want to feel it dripping out of me tomorrow. I want to walk on stage and know I'm full of your cum. I want everyone to know ā even if they don't ā that I'm yours."
She opened them. Met his gaze.
"Deepthroat yourself," he said. "Show me you want it."
She grabbed the base of his cock with both hands and guided it into her mouth, pushing past her gag reflex, taking him until her lips met her fingers. She held him there, her throat convulsing around him, tears streaming from her eyes. She didn't fight it. She let it happen. Let him fill her completely.
He let her stay. Let her struggle. Let her prove herself.
Then he came, hot down her throat, and she swallowed it all. Her throat worked around him, milking every drop.
"Good girl," he said, pulling out. He stroked her hair, a gesture that was almost tender. "You did well."
She smiled, drunk on endorphins and exhaustion and the feeling of being owned. Her hand found his, squeezed it.
"Tomorrow?" she asked.
"Tomorrow."
The affair continued through the next comeback, through the music show wins, through the variety show appearances, through the international flight to Tokyo.
Y/N went wherever NewJeans went. He stood in the shadows of concert venues, watched her from backstage, his eyes tracking her through every performance. In the daylight, he was professional, distant, the perfect bodyguard. No one suspected.
And every night, she came to him.
The dynamic deepened. He learned her limits ā and pushed them. She learned his tells ā and tested them. They developed a rhythm, a language of dominance and submission that required no words.
Sometimes he made her crawl across the hotel room to him. She'd get on her hands and knees and cross the carpet, her breasts swaying, her eyes on the floor. She'd stop at his feet and wait.
"Good girl. Now worship."
She'd take his cock in her mouth without being told how, and she'd do it until he was satisfied.
Sometimes he made her stand against the wall, arms above her head, and wait while he decided what to do with her. She'd stand there for ten minutes, twenty, her muscles trembling, her pussy dripping onto the floor. He'd walk past her, ignore her, make her wait longer.
"Please," she'd whisper.
"Please what?"
"Please touch me. Use me. Anything."
Sometimes he made her repeat degrading phrases ā "I'm Y/N's personal whore," "I exist to serve his cock," "My pussy belongs to him" ā until she believed them.
And she did believe them.
Because he'd shown her what she was. What she needed. The part of herself she'd buried under years of idol training, public smiles, and the careful, gentle hands of a boyfriend who didn't understand what she really wanted.
She was a woman who needed to be broken before she could feel whole.
And Y/N was the only man strong enough to do it.
One night in Tokyo, he had her on her knees in front of the hotel window. The Tokyo skyline spread out below them, a million lights glittering in the dark.
"Look at that," he said, standing behind her. "All those people down there. They have no idea that NewJeans' leader is on her knees, naked, waiting for my cock."
"Haaaaah... no, sir. They don't."
"Touch yourself."
She reached between her legs. Her fingers found her clit, and she moaned.
"Show me how wet you are."
She pulled her fingers away, held them up. They glistened with her slick, strings of it connecting her fingers.
"Good fucking girl. Now open your mouth."
She did. He leaned forward and slapped her face with his cock ā once, twice, three times. The thick shaft connected with her cheek, her lips, her chin. She moaned with each impact.
"You love being my little cock-sleeve, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then prove it."
She opened her mouth wide, and he thrust inside. She took him down her throat without hesitation, without gagging. She'd learned. She'd become what he needed her to be.
She stood on stage in front of 30,000 fans, the lights so bright she could barely see past the first row. Her body moved through the choreography automatically, sunbaes and gestures and smiles that she'd practiced a thousand times.
Under her skirt, she wore nothing.
Y/N's cum dripped down her thigh.
She'd knelt for him before the show, in her dressing room, the door locked, the clock counting down. He'd fucked her throat, filled her mouth, made her swallow. Then he'd pushed more into her pussy, pulled her skirt down, and sent her to perform.
"You're going to be on that stage," he'd said, "smiling at your fans. And every time you move, you're going to feel me dripping out of you. You're going to remember who you belong to."
She hit the final pose, the crowd roaring. The lights were hot on her skin, the sound deafening.
Her smile was radiant.
And inside, where no one could see, she was his.
She thought of his hands. His voice. The way he said her name. The way he took from her exactly what she needed to give.
The incense is sandalwood today. It's Minnie's favorite for afternoon sessions, its warm, earthy scent grounding the room and quieting the mind. Outside, it's a bright, sunny afternoon. Inside, every corner is overflowing with greenery: a sprawling monstera, pothos vines cascading from a high shelf, and a fiddle-leaf fig she occasionally catches herself talking to when no one's around.
For Minnie, yoga isn't just exercise. It's ritual. Discipline. A way of holding the world's endless noise at a comfortable distance. This room is her sanctuary, the one place where she can breathe, think, and simply exist in peace.
Well... almost.
Because on the other side of that door is Miyeon, her best friend and a walking, talking anxiety attack.
Minnie moves through her flow with the ease that comes from years of practice. Her dark hair is pulled into a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. Tanned skin gleams with a light sheen of sweat as she transitions from downward dog into a forward fold, reaching her palms flat to the mat. Her fitted black leggings hug the toned lines of her legs, and her cropped grey tank rides up with each stretch, exposing the flat plane of her stomach. She breathes in through her nose, slow and measured. Holds. Releases. The quietness in the room is total.
And it lasts exactly three more seconds.
The door swings inward with enough force to bounce the handle against the wall and Minnie's left eyebrow lifts a fraction of an inch before the rest of her face acknowledges the intrusion. She holds her plank. Controlled. Unbothered. The woman standing in the doorway does not share that quality.
"Okay, so I need to talk to you and I need you to not judge me and I need you to be honest and I need you to maybe also solve my entire problem because I am losing my mind."
Miyeon stands in the doorway, breathing hard as if she sprinted up the stairs. Her blonde hair is slightly messy, the soft waves tumbling around her face, and her cheeks are already flushed pink. She is wearing denim shorts that cut off mid-thigh, a white tank top, and an unbuttoned blue flannel shirt that she is currently gripping at the collar with both hands, twisting the fabric tight.
Minnie does not open her eyes. "Take your shoes off."
"I'm serious, Minnie."
"I can hear that you're serious. Shoes."
Miyeon kicks off her sneakers without untying them and starts pacing the length of the room, stepping around the yoga mat with careful footwork. Her hands migrate from the flannel to her own hair, raking through it, tugging at the ends. She cannot sit still. She cannot even stand in one place.
Minnie rises into mountain pose, pressing her palms together at her chest. "You're going to knock over my peace lily."
"I'm going to knock over a lot more than that if you don't help me." Miyeon stops, turns, starts pacing the other direction. "Okay. So. You know my new boyfriend, right?ā
"The guy from the group dinner?"
"Yeah, the one with the, you know, the shoulders. We've been texting for like three weeks. We went out twice. It's going really well. Really, really well. He's sweet and he's funny and we have this trip planned for the weekend, his friend has a place in Sokcho and we're going and it's going to be very romantic and I'm very excited about that part."
Minnie shifts her weight, stepping back into warrior one. Her front knee bends deep, arms rising overhead. "Okay."
"And he's very..." Miyeon searches the ceiling for the right word. Her cheeks darken another shade. "He's experienced. Not in a gross way, just in a way where he knows what he likes and he communicates about it, which I actually appreciate because at least he's upfront."
"That sounds healthy."
"It IS healthy. That's not the problem."
Minnie extends her arms in warrior two, gaze steady over her front fingertips. "So what's the problem?"
Miyeon stops pacing. She faces the window, then turns back. Then faces the window again. Her hands are back on the flannel, twisting. "He's really into swallowing."
Silence settles over the room. The incense gives a tiny crackle..
Minnie blinks once, then smoothly transitions into Reverse Warrior, one hand sliding down her back leg as the other reaches overhead. "Okay.ā
"Okay? That's it? Okay?!"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know, something more than okay! I'm telling you I've never done that and I'm supposed to just... do it this weekend and I don't know what I'm doing, Minnie. I've never even tasted it before. Not once. Not even a little. Every guy I've been with before was always using condoms or pulling out or I just... redirected somewhere else. And now I'm going to Sokcho with this beautiful man who expects it and I'm going to gag or my face is going to do something weird or I'm going to hate it and I'll end up making this face and he'll think I'm immature and the whole weekend will be ruined."
She delivers this entire speech to a potted fern, because apparently looking at her friend during a confession is too much.
Minnie straightens up from her pose, pressing into her lower back with both hands. "First of all, take a breath."
"I am breathing."
"You're hyperventilating. Please breathe, sweetheart." She waits. Miyeon inhales, holds it, lets it out. Her shoulders drop about half an inch. "Good. Now. What exactly are you afraid of?"
"I TOLD you!! The gagging. The face. The taste. What if it's disgusting? People always joke about it tasting bad and I've read things online that say it's salty or bitter or metallic and some people say it makes them nauseous and I have a sensitive stomach, Minnie, you know I do. I threw up that one time from the smell of the fish market and that wasn't even in my mouth."
Minnie lowers herself onto the mat, crossing her legs into a seated position. She rests her hands on her knees, palms up, thumbs and index fingers touching. Utter composure. "I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to actually hear it."
Miyeon's doe eyes are wide, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She nods.
"It's not a big deal," Minnie says. "I've tasted plenty. More than plenty. Different guys, different diets, different results. And yeah, some of them were a little bitter, some were salty, one was genuinely awful and I made him start drinking more water because I refused to put my mouth anywhere near him again. But overall? It's really not the horror show that the internet makes it out to be. It's a taste. You experience it for about five seconds and then it's gone."
"Just five seconds?"
"If you swallow right away, yeah. The whole dramatic buildup in your head is way worse than the actual thing."
"So you're saying I should just... go for it? This weekend. With no practice. Just wing it with a mouthful of something I've never tasted before and hope for the best?"
Minnie tilts her head, considering this. She uncrosses her legs and stretches one out in front of her, reaching for her toes with a slow fold. "No. I'm saying you should practice before this weekend so you actually know what to expect and you can go to Sokcho feeling confident."
"Taste some first," she repeats disdainfully. "Where would I evenā Minnie, I can't exactly go to the store and buy a sample pack.ā
Minnie sits up, rolling her shoulders. "You know who lives in this apartment."
At first, the words don't seem to mean anything.
Then they do.
The thought takes shape slowly, horribly, and then all at once. Her hands fly to her mouth. "NO! No, no, noā You mean yourā"
"I want you to feel prepared." Minnie switches legs, reaching for the other foot. "And he's been on a regimen for a while now, so the timing is actually perfect."
"A regimen?"
"Pineapple juice every morning. Celery sticks with his lunch. Zinc supplements with dinner. I started making him smoothies too, kiwi and banana and a little honey. The results have been... significant."
Miyeon's expression slowly empties. "You... You gave your boyfriend a cum diet?ā
"I improved his nutrition. The side effects just happen to be useful for me. For us, potentially." Minnie pulls her other knee in, wrapping her arms around it. "Trust me. I've optimized him. The volume alone is impressive and the taste is genuinely good. I wouldn't say that if it wasn't true."
Miyeon makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat. She sinks onto the floor across from Minnie, legs folded under her, the blue flannel pooling around her hips. Her face is the color of a ripe peach.
"You can't just optimize a person like aā like a lawn mower! That's not a thing people do!"
"I can and I did."
"That's genuinely insane, Minnie. You burned so much incense you gave yourself brain damage."
Minnie reaches for her water bottle, taking a slow sip. "Look. You came to me because you trust me. You're spiraling about something that doesn't need to be a crisis. I'm offering you a solution that lets you walk into this weekend with zero anxiety. When does that ever happen?"
Miyeon pulls at the hem of her denim shorts, picking at a loose thread. Her doe eyes drop to the floor. "I'd feel weird."
"Why?"
"Because it's your boyfriend..."
"He'd be fine with it."
"You haven't even asked him!"
Minnie's expression does not waver. "I know him. He'll be fine with it."
"You cannot possibly know that."
"I've been with him long enough to know what he says yes to." She pauses. "Which, honestly, is most things. I've trained him well."
"Oh my god, stop it." Miyeon covers her face with both hands.
Minnie smiles. "I'm kidding." Miyeon peeks at her through her fingers. "Mostly.ā
Miyeon groans, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. "This is crazy. This is absolutely certifiably crazy. I'm sitting on your yoga mat discussing whether I should blow your boyfriend so I can learn what semen tastes like before my trip. This is a new low. This is rock bottom."
"It's not a low. It's practical. And you know what? I want you to feel confident this weekend. Let me help you. That's what friends do."
Minnie is looking at her now; sitting there, completely still, meeting her gaze with warm brown eyes that somehow manage to be teasing and reassuring at the same time.
Miyeon feels her resolve begin to crumble.
Annoyingly enough, Minnie's argument makes perfect sense. Better to know than spend weeks imagining the worst. Better to practice than completely embarrass herself when the moment finally comes.
"...Fine," she mumbles into her hands. "Okay. I'm in."
Minnie's lips curve into that knowing smile. She stretches her arms overhead, rolls her wrists, and rises from the mat in one fluid motion.
"Good. Finish freaking out and then come find me in his room in ten minutes."
She says it with the same casual tone someone might use to remind a friend to take the trash out. Miyeon stays exactly where she is, sitting cross-legged on the floor with burning cheeks and a pulse that refuses to slow, trying to figure out how she'd somehow let herself agree to this.
ā
The thing about living with Minnie is that you learn to stop questioning her. Three months into the relationship, you stopped asking why there was always a carton of pineapple juice in the fridge. Four months in, you stopped wondering why she started packing celery sticks into your lunch. Five months in, she handed you a bottle of zinc supplements and told you they were for your immune system and you just took them, because that is what you do when Minnie decides something is happening. You nod, you comply, and somehow your life improves in ways you cannot fully explain.
You're sprawled across the bed, your laptop balanced on your stomach as a video about restoring a rusted '67 Mustang drones in the background. You're only half paying attention.
The bedroom reflects both of you in equal measure. Your side is clean and practical: a neatly organized desk with your PC setup, headphones hanging from a stand, and a small stack of books that rarely strays out of place. Everything serves a purpose.
Minnie's presence softens the rest of the room. A couple of trailing plants spill over a bookshelf, crystals and tiny ceramic trinkets sit beside neatly stacked books on mindfulness and philosophy, and a woven basket in the corner holds rolled-up yoga mats and resistance bands. A woven throw blanket lies folded at the foot of the bed you both share, while a couple of oversized cushions rest beneath the window, forming the quiet reading nook she insisted the apartment needed.
Today it's' the kind of slow, lazy afternoon that makes doing absolutely nothing feel like the most productive thing in the world.
Footsteps in the hallway. Two sets. One calm and measured. One quick and uneven.
You look up from your laptop screen and there they are, filling your doorframe. Minnie stands with one hand on the frame and the other on her hip, her dark hair now loose around her shoulders, still wearing her fitted black leggings and cropped grey tank from yoga. She looks like she just finished a photoshoot for some wellness brand, tanned skin glowing, warm brown eyes finding yours with absolute composure.
Behind her, half-hidden by Minnie's shoulder, is Miyeon. You can see the blue flannel first, then the edge of her face as she peeks around her friend. Her blonde hair falls in soft waves around her cheeks, which are currently the deepest shade of pink you have ever seen on a human person. Her doe eyes find yours for exactly one second before darting away to study the wall behind you with sudden intense fascination.
"Hey babe," Minnie says.
"Hey," you reply. You glance between them. "Everything okay?"
"Totally fine. I need to ask you something." She steps into the room. "Miyeon, come in. Stand somewhere. Stop hovering."
Miyeon shuffles in and plants herself near your desk chair, arms crossed tight over her chest, eyes fixed on the floor. She pulls the flannel tighter around herself as if she is cold, which she is not, because it is warm in here and her neck is blotchy red.
Minnie sits on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs underneath her. "So," she begins. "Miyeon has a situation." You look at Miyeon. Miyeon looks at the ceiling. "She's going on a trip this weekend with that guy she's been seeing. The one with the shoulders."
"Right. Yeah. Nice guy."
"He's great. Very communicative. Very open about what he likes." Minnie pauses, smoothing down a crease in her leggings. "He happens to be very into finishing in a girl's mouth, and Miyeon has never dealt with that before, so she came to me for advice because she's nervous about it. Understandably."
You look at Miyeon, who has now turned her entire body to face your bookshelf, examining titles she cannot possibly be reading because her eyes are unfocused and glassy. The flush has spread from her cheeks down to her neck, creeping past the collar of her tank top.
"And I suggested," Minnie continues, her tone as light and easy as if she is telling you about a sale at the grocery store, "that she practice beforehand so she knows what to expect. Get comfortable with the taste, the texture, all of that. Remove the mystery. And since you've been on my little health plan for a while now, the results have been pretty fantastic, so I told her you'd be happy to help."
The room falls silent. Only the voice from your laptop fills the air, some guy rambling about carburetors while your mind struggles to process what Minnie just said. Every thought grinding to a halt like a computer freezing. Then it reboots, slowly, one process at a time, loading information in fragments.
Practice. Her mouth. You. The thing that Minnie does. But Miyeon. Your girlfriend's friend. Your girlfriend is sitting on the bed telling you that her friend needs to practice swallowing cum and you are the designated practice dummy.
"Wait," you say. "Seriously?"
Minnie tilts her head. "Do I sound like I'm joking?"
"You never sound like you're joking. That's what makes it hard to tell."
Miyeon makes a small sound. Something between a cough and a whimper. "Can we maybe not call it a health plan out loud? Can we not describe it like that in front of him?"
"Why not? He should know what goes into his own body." Minnie gestures toward you casually. "You've been drinking pineapple juice every single morning for six weeks. Celery with lunch. Zinc with dinner. I blend you a smoothie three times a week with kiwi and banana and raw honey. Your loads have been thick, abundant, and genuinely tasty. I did that. On purpose."
"Oh my god," Miyeon whispers to the bookshelf.
"She's not wrong," you admit, because it is true and also because your brain has not fully caught up to the situation and is operating on autopilot. "The smoothies are really good."
"The smoothies are not the point," Minnie says with a slight eye roll. "The point is that I have spent considerable time and effort making sure that what comes out of you is actually pleasant to put in a mouth. And right now, Miyeon is terrified of something that she doesn't need to be terrified of, and I want to fix that. I'm asking you to be a good boyfriend and a good friend and just let her try it."
You look at Miyeon again. She has given up on the bookshelf and is now staring at her own feet, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her flannel. Her shoulders are hunched up near her ears. Everything about her posture screams discomfort, but she has not left the room. She has not said no. She is still here, standing by your desk chair, breathing a little too fast.
"Miyeon," you say.
She finally looks up, meeting your eyes.
There's so much embarrassment written across her face that you almost feel guilty for her. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" you ask gently. "I mean... actually okay. Not just because Minnie managed to talk you into it."
Miyeon fidgets with the hem of her shirt, avoiding your gaze for a second before looking back.
"I-I think so? Or... I thought I was. Back in the yoga room it sounded... I don't know, kind of logical? B-But now I'm actually standing here and..." She lets out a tiny, breathless laugh. "...it suddenly feels very real." She rubs the back of her neck, cheeks burning. "I swear, this is exactly how I feel right before getting a shot at the doctor's office. Like I know I'll survive, but my brain is still screaming, 'Run.'ā
"You're not getting a shot," Minnie says. "You're going to put a dick in your mouth. It's way more fun than a shot."
"You're really not helping," Miyeon mutters.
"I know." Minnie doesn't sound remotely apologetic. "I'm trying to keep you from spiraling."
Miyeon shoots her a look that says it's not working.
Minnie only smiles before turning to you. The teasing slipping away. She isn't pleading - Minnie doesn't do pleading - but there's a sincerity in her eyes that's hard to miss. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think this was the right call," she says. "She's my best friend. She's tying herself in knots over something that's completely fixable." She tilts her head ever so slightly. "You know that.ā
You do know that. You know Minnie well enough to understand that when she presents a solution, she has already considered the alternatives and found them lacking. She does not waste effort on bad plans. If she is standing in your room asking this, she means it.
Your gaze moves from Miyeon's flushed cheeks and the blonde hair falling across them to Minnie's tanned skin and the patient curve of her lips, and somewhere in the back of your skull a small, rational voice is trying to remind you that this is the kind of situation that should require careful thought. Moral deliberation. At least a token moment of internal conflict.
Two of the most beautiful women you have ever seen are standing in your bedroom. One of them is your girlfriend. The other is her best friend. Your girlfriend is calmly, pleasantly asking if her best friend can put your dick in her mouth. For practice.
The whole thing is so far past absurd that it has circled back around to almost reasonable, the way things tend to when Minnie is involved. She has a gift for making the insane feel logical.
"Okay," you say.
Minnie's smile widens by a fraction. She lets out a pleased hum, the kind she makes when you finish your smoothie without being reminded. "Good boy. Thank you."
"Okay," Miyeon repeats. She exhales hard through her mouth, blowing a strand of hair off her face. "Okay. We're doing this. This is happening. I'm doing this."
"You're doing great already," Minnie says, rising from the bed.
You nod. Slowly, then with more certainty. "Yeah. I mean, if it helps, then yeah. I'm happy to help." You look at Miyeon, who is still examining the floor as if it contains the secrets of the universe. "You're in good hands. Seriously. Minnie knows more about sex than anyone I've ever met. She's basically a scholar. You couldn't have a better mentor for this."
"But isn't this... I don't know." Miyeon shifts her weight from one foot to the other, tugging at the hem of her flannel. "Isn't this kind of cheating? On both sides? You're her boyfriend and I'd be doing... that... to him. And Minnie's just standing there watching. That's weird, right? That has to be weird."
Minnie sighs. Not a frustrated sigh, more the gentle exhale of someone who has already anticipated this objection and prepared a response. She sits back down on the edge of your bed, folding one leg beneath her.
"That is exactly the problem with you two," she says. "You always focus on the physical act and never on what it represents."
"What-it-represents," Miyeon repeats flatly. "What's that even supposed to mean, Minnie?"
"Think about what you're actually doing here, Miyeon. You're not sneaking around behind anyone's back for fun. You're preparing. You're taking time out of your week to learn how to please a man you really like because you want him to have a good experience. That's thoughtful. Honestly, that might be the most considerate thing a girlfriend could do. You care enough about this guy to get it right."
She pauses, letting that settle.
"He gets a girlfriend who knows what she's doing and feels confident instead of panicking. You get to actually enjoy the weekend instead of dreading it. Where exactly is the harm?"
Miyeon brow furrows as the logic works its way through her anxiety.
"You don't agree?" Minnie asks.
"I mean... not at all, no. But I really want to do it right. So I guess it's better this way." She swallows hard. "He can never know about this. Ever. This goes to the grave."
"Fine, whatever." Minnie waves a hand dismissively. "Now start taking off your clothes."
Miyeon blinks. "Why do I need to take off my clothes? I only need my mouth for this."
"Because things tend to get messy and I'd rather not explain to your boyfriend why your favorite tank top has another man's dried cum on it. That would be a very different conversation than the one we're having right now." Minnie pulls her cropped grey tank over her head in one clean motion, tossing it onto your desk chair. Her torso is bare, tanned, still faintly glossy with sweat from her yoga session. The lines of her body are lean and toned, her stomach flat, her skin a warm golden brown under the bedroom light. "See? Easy. Now you."
Miyeon stares at the ceiling, her jaw working. Then she shrugs off the blue flannel, letting it drop onto the desk chair next to Minnie's tank. She pulls the white tank top over her head with a wince, like she is ripping off a bandage. Her denim shorts stay on. She stands there in her bra, arms crossed, looking like she wants to dissolve into the floor.
"Miyeon," Minnie says. "The bra too."
Miyeon's head snaps up. "W-Why?ā
"Because you have beautiful breasts. Full, nice shape. Don't be shy about it, we're all among friends here."
"Have you been looking at my boobs?ā Miyeon asks, caught off guard.
"Sometimes. Always respectfully, of course." Minnie's lips twitch. "Off. Come on."
Miyeon reaches behind her back and fumbles with the clasp, fingers slipping twice before she manages to unhook it. The bra slides down her arms, straps dragging along her skin, and she drops it onto the floor. Her breasts sit high on her chest, round and full, the pale skin of them almost luminous in the afternoon light. Her areolas are a soft dusty pink, puffy and delicate, each one a perfect circle framing nipples already stiff from the air, small and tight and flushed a deeper rose. They have a natural fullness that gives them weight without losing their shape, the kind that move softly with each nervous shift of her shoulders.
She immediately tries to cover them with her arms, crossing tight over her chest, shoulders hunched up near her ears.
And you have to side with Minnie on this one. Miyeon really does have beautiful breasts.
"Arms down," Minnie instructs gently. "There you go. Good."
She turns to you. "Sit on the edge of the bed."
You comply, shifting to the edge of the mattress, feet flat on the floor. Minnie kneels beside you first, then pats the floor on your other side. Miyeon lowers herself down awkwardly, folding her legs under her, still half-covering her chest with one arm.
Minnie reaches for your waistband with practiced hands, undoing the button and pulling your pants and underwear down in a single unhurried motion. You lift your hips to help her and she slides everything off, tossing them aside. Your cock rests against your thigh, half-hard already, which is understandable given the circumstances.
"Okay," Minnie says, wrapping her fingers loosely around your shaft. "How are you at giving head?"
Miyeon stares. "I don't... I don't know. Average, I think?"
"Right." Minnie strokes you slowly, her grip warm and familiar, and you feel yourself hardening further under her touch. "Then we're going to fix that. I'm going to teach you a few things so you can go to Sokcho and absolutely wreck this man. He's going to fall deeper in love with your mouth than he already is with the rest of you."
She turns to you, then back to Miyeon. "Watch my hand first. See how I'm not squeezing too hard? You want a firm hold but you don't want to choke it. Like you're holding a thick marker. Not a stress ball."
Miyeon nods, her doe eyes fixed on Minnie's hand moving along your length. Her lower lip is caught between her teeth again.
"Now, the head is the most sensitive part. Especially right here." Minnie runs her thumb across the underside of your tip, and your stomach tightens. "That's the sweet spot. You spend time there, you use your tongue, you don't ignore it. Most girls just try to take the whole thing immediately and that's fine, but if you want to drive him crazy, you start slow. Tongue first. Lips second. Then you take him deeper."
Miyeon leans forward slightly, watching with the intense concentration of someone taking notes for an exam.
"Open your mouth, sweetheart. Tongue out."
Miyeon obeys. Her jaw drops, her tongue extending past her plump lower lip, and she trembles visibly. Minnie angles your cock toward Miyeon's waiting mouth, guiding you with steady fingers until your tip brushes against Miyeon's tongue.
The first touch is electric. Miyeon's mouth is warm and wet, and the tentative press of her tongue against your slit sends a jolt up your spine. She freezes, blinks once, and you can see the exact moment surprise registers on her face. Her brow relaxes. Her eyes soften.
"Not bad, right?" Minnie says, watching her reaction with amusement. "Breathe through your nose. Relax your jaw. Don't clench. Good girl, just like that."
Miyeon takes more of you. Her lips close around your head, soft and pillowy, and she sucks gently, experimentally. The sensation draws a sharp breath from your lungs.
"That's it. Use your tongue while you suck. Circle the tip, then flatten it and lick the underside. He likes that. Don't you?" Minnie glances up at you.
"Yeah," you manage. "That feels really good."
Miyeon's eyes flick up to yours, wide and searching, and you watch something shift in them. The nervousness is still there but layered underneath it is a spark of determination. She wants to get this right. She hollows her cheeks and takes another inch, her lips stretching around your shaft.
"See, you're a natural," Minnie tells her, still gripping the base of your cock, stroking the part Miyeon can't reach. "Now take a little more. Slowly. Don't force it, just let your mouth get used to the thickness."
Miyeon sinks deeper. The wet heat of her mouth envelops you inch by inch, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of your shaft as she goes. She pulls back, takes a breath through her nose, then goes again. Deeper this time. A soft, muffled sound hums in her throat and the vibration travels straight through you.
"How does she feel, babe?" Minnie asks you, her tone conversational.
"Incredible. Her mouth is so tight, and her lips are..." You trail off, trying to find the right words while your brain is melting. "Really soft. She's doing really well."
Miyeon makes a small pleased sound around you, and the vibration sends another pulse of heat through your groin. Her head bobs with growing confidence, finding a rhythm that is uneven but enthusiastic. Saliva gathers at the corners of her mouth, slicking your shaft, making each stroke smoother than the last.
"Good. Keep that pace." Minnie shifts closer, her bare shoulder brushing Miyeon's. "Now, when you pull back, drag your lips along the underside. Like you're tracing a line. And when you get to the tip, give it a little suck before you go back down. Guys lose their minds over that."
Miyeon follows the instructions perfectly. Her mouth glides up your length, lips dragging, and when she reaches the head she sucks with a gentle pressure that makes your fingers curl into the bedsheet. Then back down, deeper, her tongue working in slow circles.
"Holy shit," you breathe.
Minnie smiles. "See? I told you. Natural talent." She looks up at you. "She's doing well?"
"Really well. Her mouth is so warm, and the way she's using her tongue right now is..." You inhale sharply as Miyeon does the thing Minnie just taught her, sucking at your tip with perfect pressure. "Really, really well."
Miyeon's eyes are closed now, her blonde hair swaying with each movement of her head. The flush on her cheeks has spread down her neck and across the upper swell of her breasts. Her nipples are hard, pressing against the air, and she has stopped trying to cover herself entirely. Her hands rest on your thighs, fingers curled lightly against your skin.
"Don't forget to use your hands too," Minnie coaches. "Wrap one around the base. Squeeze gently while you suck. That way your mouth doesn't have to do everything at once."
Miyeon lifts her right hand and wraps her fingers around your shaft below where her mouth is working, mirroring the grip Minnie demonstrated earlier. She strokes in time with her mouth, hand and lips moving together, and the dual sensation makes your hips twitch involuntarily.
"Sorry," Miyeon mumbles around you, pulling back slightly.
"Don't apologize. He loved that." Minnie squeezes your thigh reassuringly. "You can use your other hand too. Play with him a little. He's sensitive right under the head, I already showed you, but also try lower. Cup him gently."
Miyeon's left hand moves up, her fingers finding you tentatively. Instead of going lower like Minnie suggested, her thumb drifts upward and settles directly against your frenulum, that small ridge of skin just beneath the head where the nerve endings cluster so densely that even the lightest contact registers like a current. She traces across it with her thumb pad, slow and curious, exploring the texture, and your entire body locks up. Your breath catches mid inhale and your stomach muscles clench hard, every fiber of attention in your body narrowing to that single point of contact where her fingertip is drawing tiny circles against the most sensitive skin you possess.
She looks up at you through her lashes, checking your reaction, and your jaw is so tight you cannot form a coherent response. She takes your silence as encouragement and does it again, pressing slightly firmer, rolling the pad of her thumb across the ridge in a slow, deliberate arc that sends a pulse of pleasure straight through your groin. Her mouth is still working your tip, lips sealed around the head, and the combination of her warm wet tongue sliding across the top while her thumb tortures the underside creates a dual sensation that makes your vision swim.
"Yeah, there you go," Minnie murmurs. "You found his weakness, keep going.ā
"She's a fast learner," you tell Minnie, and Miyeon's eyes shine at the compliment.
"Of course she is. She has a good teacher." Minnie shifts her position slightly, watching Miyeon work with the critical eye of a master appraising a promising student. "Now try taking him deeper. As far as you can comfortably go. If you feel like you're going to gag, slow down and breathe. There's no rush."
Miyeon lowers her mouth onto you again, taking more this time. Her lips stretch wider, the tight ring of her mouth sliding down your shaft until she has taken most of you. A small gag catches in her throat and she pauses, eyes watering, breathing hard through her nose.
"Breathe," Minnie reminds her. "Hold there for a second. Let your throat adjust."
Miyeon holds. The tight clench of her throat around your tip is almost unbearable, hot and squeezing and so impossibly wet. She swallows once, reflexively, and the rippling sensation makes your head drop back.
"Good girl," Minnie murmurs. "Now pull back slow."
Miyeon slides up, gasping when your cock leaves her mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting her lower lip to your tip. She wipes her chin with the back of her hand, chest heaving.
"How am I doing?" she asks, looking between you and Minnie with swollen lips and messy hair.
"So good," you tell her, and it's the absolute truth.
"You're doing beautifully," Minnie confirms. "Keep going. Same rhythm. Mix it up between deep and shallow, keep him guessing."
Miyeon dives back in. She finds a pattern now, three shallow strokes followed by one deep, her tongue swirling across your head each time she pulls back. Her hand works the base in a twisting motion that Minnie must have taught her through osmosis because it is devastating. Her other hand cups and rolls your balls with a gentle curiosity that keeps your entire body thrumming.
Your hips begin to move on their own, small involuntary thrusts upward that meet her mouth halfway. Miyeon takes them without complaint, adjusting her angle, opening her throat to accommodate you. Drool spills down your shaft, pooling at the base where her fingers work, slicking every inch.
Minnie watches the two of you with sharp, attentive eyes. She reads the tension in your thighs, the way your stomach muscles are clenching, the subtle shift in your breathing. She knows your body better than you do.
"Okay, Miyeon." Minnie's hand comes to rest on the back of your thigh, her thumb tracing a slow circle. "He's getting close.ā
Minnie shifts beside Miyeon, her tanned shoulder pressing against Miyeon's pale one. The contrast is striking in the afternoon light, golden brown against porcelain. "Keep going," Minnie tells her. "But focus on the tip now. Just the head. Use your tongue in little circles right underneath where it's most sensitive."
Miyeon pulls back until only your tip rests between her lips. Her tongue moves exactly as instructed, tracing tight, wet circles across the underside of your head, and the concentrated sensation makes your thigh muscles flex hard.
"Good. Don't stop cupping his balls. Yeah, just like that.ā
Miyeon makes a soft sound of acknowledgment around your cock, her eyes widening. She squeezes gently, rolling her fingers, and the ache that has been building in your pelvis intensifies to something urgent and throbbing.
āFeel how heavy he is?ā Minnie asks, watching Miyeonās fingers explore you. āIāve spent weeks filling him with water, fruit, zinc, everything his body needs to make thick, sweet loads. Then I drain his balls myself often enough to keep him producing plenty. All that weight in your hand is fresh cum, sweetheart, and heās about to pump every drop of it into your mouth.ā
"You're talking about me like I'm livestock," you manage, your jaw tight.
"Hush. She needs to understand what she's working with." Minnie looks at Miyeon, whose mouth is still wrapped around your head, sucking with slow, careful pressure. "When he finishes, it's going to be a lot. More than you're expecting. Just hold still, keep your mouth open, and let it happen. Don't try to swallow right away. Let it sit on your tongue so you can actually taste it."
Miyeon pulls off you just long enough to breathe, "Okay," before sinking back down.
Your hips are moving now, small grinding thrusts into the wet heat of her mouth. Miyeon takes them, her plump lips sealed tight around your shaft, her tongue still working that devastating pattern against your frenulum. Her hand massages you below, fingers gentle but curious, squeezing and rolling your balls in a rhythm she seems to be discovering on her own.
The pressure is building low in your stomach, a heavy tightness that spreads through your groin and down into your thighs. Your breathing has gone ragged. Your hands grip the edge of the mattress, knuckles white.
Minnie sees it before you say anything. She reads the tension in your body the way she reads a yoga pose, identifying every strained muscle and held breath. Her hand comes to rest on your inner thigh, her thumb pressing into the tense muscle there.
"He's almost there," she tells Miyeon. Her tone drops, softer, coaxing. "Keep your mouth open. I want you to taste all of it."
Miyeon releases your cock from her lips and tilts her head back, mouth open wide, tongue extended. Her doe eyes look up at you, glassy and nervous and so impossibly pretty. Minnie wraps her fingers around your shaft and aims you directly at Miyeon's waiting tongue, stroking with a firm, steady grip.
The first wave hits you all at once. Your orgasm tears through your body, your hips jolting as your cock throbs violently in Minnie's hand. The first rope of cum is thick and heavy, a solid stripe of white that lands across the center of Miyeon's tongue and pools at the back of her mouth. Miyeon flinches, her eyes squeezing shut for a fraction of a second, but she holds her position. Minnie keeps stroking, squeezing upward, and the second spasm hits even harder than the first. Another thick rope, this one landing across Miyeon's lower lip and the front of her tongue, warm and dense, coating her tastebuds in a heavy layer.
"Stay open," Minnie murmurs. "Good girl."
The third spasm pumps out a long, viscous strand that collects on Miyeon's tongue and immediately begins spreading, warm and thick, mixing with the saliva already pooling there. Miyeon's cheeks flush a deep crimson as her mouth fills, the warm fluid settling across every surface, coating the inside of her cheeks, pooling beneath her tongue. A small amount escapes the corner of her lips, trailing down her chin in a slow, heavy drip.
Minnie milks you through every pulse, her thumb pressing along the underside of your shaft from base to tip, coaxing out each spasm with practiced efficiency. The fourth and fifth spurts are shorter but still substantial, adding to the growing warmth in Miyeon's mouth. Your cum sits on her tongue in a thick, opaque pool, warm and slightly sweet from weeks of pineapple and celery and zinc, the texture dense and silky. Miyeon holds it all, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she tries to contain the volume.
The last few pulses are weaker, just thin streams that Minnie wrings from you with slow, careful strokes. She squeezes from the very base upward, dragging her grip along your entire length, and catches the final bead of cum on her thumb before it can escape. She wipes it across Miyeon's lower lip.
"There you go," Minnie says softly. "All of it. Don't swallow yet. Close your mouth and taste it."
Miyeon's lips close slowly. Her eyes are still wide, still shocked by the sheer amount, but she doesn't pull away. She holds your cum in her mouth, her tongue moving tentatively through the thick fluid, and you watch her expression shift. The furrow in her brow smooths out. Her eyes lose some of their frantic edge. She blinks once, twice, and something like quiet surprise crosses her flushed features.
"Well?" Minnie asks, watching her closely.
Miyeon parts her lips, and you can see the white still pooling on her tongue, thick and warm. "Itsh..." She catches herself, closes her mouth, swishes the cum gently between her cheeks like she's sampling wine. "warhm. Anā sho thick. Buh id doeshn tash bad ad all. Idāsh kinda shweet... noā like shuggar. Jush... good."
"Told you." Minnie's lips curve. "But don't swallow all of it. Save some for me."
Miyeon's eyes go wide. A muffled sound escapes her throat, something between a question and a squeak. Her cheeks are bulging slightly, still full.
Minnie rises from her knees and moves in front of Miyeon. She cups Miyeon's jaw with one hand, tilting her chin upward, and leans in. Miyeon makes a strangled noise of surprise but doesn't pull back. Minnie's lips meet hers, soft and unhurried, and the kiss deepens as Minnie's mouth opens against Miyeon's.
The transfer happens slowly. Minnie's tongue slides between Miyeon's lips, meticulous and probing, and you can see the moment the cum passes between them. Miyeon's throat works, a small gulp, and then she opens wider, sharing the thick fluid back and forth. Their tongues move together, slick and messy, coated in the heavy white cum that strings between their mouths each time they shift angles. Minnie's hand stays firm on Miyeon's jaw, holding her steady, controlling the pace. Some of the cum escapes during the exchange, trailing down Miyeon's chin, dripping onto the swell of her bare breast.
They pull apart after a long, suspended moment. A thick, glistening string of mixed saliva and cum connects their lower lips, stretching before it snaps and lands on Miyeon's thigh. Both girls swallow at almost the same time, throats bobbing, and Minnie licks the remaining trace from her upper lip.
"See?" Minnie says, her breathing only slightly elevated. "Nothing to be scared of."
Miyeon sits back on her heels, chest heaving, her lips swollen and glistening. Her entire face is flushed, from her cheeks down to her collarbones, and her blonde hair is messy where her hands have raked through it. "That was... a lot. That was really a lot."
"You handled it perfectly."
"No, I mean... the amount." Miyeon blinks, still sounding dazed. "There was so much. How is there that much? What have you been feeding him?"
Minnie lets out a quiet laugh. "Enough, apparently." She tilts her head. "More importantly... what did you think of the taste? The verdict.ā
Miyeon runs her tongue over her lower lip, gathering the last trace of flavor with an unhurried curiosity. Her wide eyes settle on you again, the earlier uncertainty giving way to open interest and a quiet eagerness she no longer seems able to hide.
"I liked it. I really liked it." She pauses, seeming almost embarrassed to admit the next part. "Damn, it's really fucking good. It's kind of addictive. That sounds insane, right? I was so scared and now I want more. That's insane."
"It's not insane. It means my regimen works." Minnie looks entirely too satisfied with herself.
Miyeon's gaze drops to your lap. You are still hard, your cock glistening with saliva and the slick residue of your orgasm, resting against your thigh. She stares at it for a long beat, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
āCan we do that again?ā She pauses to wet her lips, her attention lingering between Minnie and your cock. āI mean properly this time, with both of us taking turns on him. I want to see what it feels like when we do it together.ā
Minnie's laugh is delighted, bright and genuine. "Look at you. One taste and you're hooked."
Miyeon's face burns red all over again, but she does not deny it. Her eyes stay fixed on you, on your cock, and her tongue slips out to wet her lips one more time.
"Lucky boy," Minnie says to you, her fingers wrapping around your still-wet shaft. She gives you a slow stroke, almost absent-minded. "Round two."
You laugh, the sound coming out breathless and shaky because your body has not fully recovered from the first orgasm and already she is handling you again. "You two don't even care about me, do you? I'm just a training dummy."
"Yep," Minnie says.
"Basically," Miyeon adds, and then covers her mouth, shocked at her own boldness.
They both smirk at you. Identical expressions of amusement on completely different faces.
"Feel free to practice on my dick until she's confident enough," you tell them. "I'll manage somehow."
"Oh, you'll manage." Minnie squeezes you and your cock twitches in her grip, already filling out again, the refractory period of a man who has been nutritionally optimized by his girlfriend whether he asked for it or not. She leans down and runs her tongue along the underside of your shaft, base to tip, cleaning the residue from the first round. "Miyeon, get down here. You wanted the full experience."
She positions herself on your left and Minnie takes the right, their bare shoulders pressing together. Two mouths at your disposal. The visual alone is enough to restart your heart.
Miyeon goes first. She leans in and takes your head into her mouth, sinking down with a hunger that was not there ten minutes ago. Her lips stretch around your girth and she moans around you, a soft, genuine sound that vibrates through your entire cock. Her enthusiasm is messy and artless, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth, her head bobbing at an uneven pace, taking you deep and then pulling off too far before sinking back down. She is making up for her lack of technique with sheer effort, sucking hard, her tongue moving in frantic circles.
"Slow down a little," Minnie coaches, pressing her lips against the base of your shaft and dragging them upward along the side. "Enjoy it. You don't have to race."
Miyeon adjusts, finding a steadier rhythm, and Minnie mirrors her on the opposite side. Their tongues meet along the sensitive underside of your shaft, both wet and warm and moving in different directions, Miyeon's broad and flat, Minnie's pointed and precise. The sensation is staggering. Two different textures of heat sliding against your skin, overlapping, tangling.
"Fuck," you hiss through your teeth.
Minnie pulls back, a strand of saliva connecting her lower lip to your cock. "You taste like my smoothies," she observes, almost to herself. She looks up at you with those calm brown eyes and takes your entire length into her mouth in one smooth, controlled motion. No gag, no hesitation. Her lips press flush against the base of your cock and her throat tightens around your head, and she holds there, breathing steadily through her nose, before pulling back just as slowly. The tightness of her throat dragging along your shaft makes your vision blur.
Miyeon watches with her lips parted, eyes wide. "How did you... how do you just do that?"
"Practice. Lots of it." Minnie wipes her chin and gestures toward you. "Try it. Breathe in deep first, then go down and don't stop. If you feel your throat closing up, swallow instead of pulling back. That opens it up."
Miyeon squares her shoulders, blows out a breath, and lowers her mouth onto you. She takes the first few inches easily, her technique already improved from earlier. Then she pushes further, past where she stopped before, and you feel the tight ring of her throat press against your tip. She gags, her whole body jerking, eyes watering. But she does not pull off. She swallows hard, exactly as Minnie instructed, and her throat opens enough to let your head slip through. A strangled moan escapes her, muffled around your cock, and tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
"Good," Minnie murmurs, running her hand along Miyeon's bare back. "Hold it. Three seconds."
Miyeon holds. Three seconds. Then she pulls back gasping, coughing, drool hanging from her chin in long strings. Her face is a mess of saliva and tears and she is smiling. Actually smiling.
"I did it," she says, breathless and proud.
"You did it." Minnie kisses her shoulder. "Your boyfriend is going to lose his entire mind."
They fall into a shared rhythm after that. No more instruction, no more correction. Miyeon takes you deep while Minnie's tongue works the base, then they switch. Miyeon sucks your tip while Minnie engulfs the rest. Their lips brush against each other constantly, meeting at the midpoint of your shaft, tongues sliding together over your skin. The sounds are obscene, wet and slick and sloppy, mixed with Miyeon's muffled moaning and Minnie's controlled breathing.
Your hands find their hair. Your right hand sinks into Minnie's dark locks, gripping at the root, and your left tangles in Miyeon's blonde waves. You hold them both, steering gently, and they let you. Miyeon whimpers when your fingers tighten in her hair, pushing herself harder onto you in response. Minnie hums with approval, the vibration traveling straight to your core.
Both mouths descend on your shaft simultaneously, one on each side, lips pressed together with your cock between them. They move up and down in unison, their tongues meeting across the top of your shaft, kissing around you, moaning into each other's mouths. The heat is unbearable. Wet, slick, squeezing, two chins dripping with mixed saliva, four eyes looking up at you from below.
Minnie pulls back, catching her breath. She wraps her hand around you, stroking slowly, and looks at Miyeon. "One more thing. A guy who likes a girl who swallows naturally also likes to see her covered in cum. It's basically the rule. You should know that going in."
Miyeon blinks. "Covered? Like... on my face?"
"On your face. On your lips. Dripping down your chin. Guys are visual, Miyeon. He wants to see what you did for him. He wants to look at you and know that you took everything he gave you and wore it." Minnie strokes you with a firm grip, her thumb rubbing circles under your head. "So this time, you're going to get cum on your pretty little face. Both of us are. Consider it the final exam."
The pressure is building again, heavier this time, a deep ache that radiates from your pelvis through your thighs. Both girls are looking up at you, Miyeon's blonde hair tangled around your fingers, Minnie's dark hair gripped in your other fist. Their faces are flushed, lips swollen and shining, cheeks wet with spit. They are pressed shoulder to shoulder, faces tilted upward, mouths open and waiting.
"I'm close," you warn them.
Minnie takes your cock from her stroking hand and aims it directly at their faces. "Stay right there," she tells Miyeon. "Don't move. Keep your eyes open if you can."
The second orgasm tears through you harder than the first. Your cock pulses violently in Minnie's grip and the first thick rope of cum launches across Miyeon's left cheek, a heavy white stripe that stretches from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. She flinches but holds steady, her doe eyes widening as the warmth hits her skin. The second spasm is just as strong, a thick glob that lands on Miyeon's lower lip and tongue, pooling there before dripping down her chin. She gasps, her breath hitching, and the next rope catches her across the bridge of her nose, painting a line of white across her flushed, pretty face.
Minnie angles you toward herself. The fourth spasm streaks across her forehead, a long viscous strand that drips down between her eyebrows. The fifth catches her nose and upper lip, thick and heavy, coating her full lips in a layer of opaque white. She keeps her eyes open, watching your cock twitch and spasm with that same calm, analytical gaze, even as her face gets painted. The sixth spasm is weaker but still substantial, a glob that lands on her chin and immediately begins dripping down onto her tanned chest.
You groan through the final pulses, your hips jerking forward as the last thick beads ooze from your tip. Minnie milks them out with slow, firm strokes, directing the remaining cum onto Miyeon's waiting tongue. The last strand stretches from your slit to Miyeon's lower lip before breaking and settling on her chin.
Both girls kneel before you, faces upturned and glazed. The volume is staggering, thick ropes of white streaking across Miyeon's cheeks, her nose, her lips, her chin. Cum on Minnie's forehead, her nose, her lips, dripping from her chin in slow, heavy drops. They are gasping, blinking through the mess, and then Miyeon starts giggling. A breathless, disbelieving sound that makes Minnie laugh too.
"Oh my god," Miyeon says, touching her cum-covered cheek with her fingertips. The thick fluid smears under her touch, warm and slippery. She pulls her fingers away and a string of white stretches between them. "Oh my god, there's so much. It's everywhere."
Minnie runs her tongue across her upper lip, gathering the cum that has pooled there, and swallows. "Told you. Optimized."
"You're actually insane and I love you."
Minnie turns to face Miyeon. Both of them are a mess, faces shining and streaked. She reaches out and cups Miyeon's jaw, tilting her face. "Hold still."
She leans in and drags her tongue across Miyeon's left cheek, collecting a thick stripe of cum in one long, slow lick from jaw to cheekbone. Miyeon exhales sharply, her eyes fluttering shut. The sensation of Minnie's warm wet tongue sliding across her skin sends a visible shiver through her body. Minnie swallows and licks again, this time across Miyeon's chin, gathering the cum that has dripped there, her tongue pressing firm and thorough against Miyeon's skin.
Miyeon lets out a shaky breath and says, "That's really fucking kinky."
"Good kinky or bad kinky?" Minnie asks.
Miyeon's cheeks burn beneath the thin layer of saliva Minnie has left behind. "Really, really good kinky.ā
Minnie kisses the corner of Miyeon's mouth, where a thick glob of cum has collected, and sucks it clean. Then she pulls back and waits. Miyeon gets the message. She leans forward and runs her tongue across Minnie's forehead, licking up the long strand of white that has been slowly dripping down between Minnie's eyebrows. The taste hits her again, warm and thick and sweet, and she moans softly before swallowing. She licks across Minnie's nose, gathering the cum pooled there, then down to Minnie's lips, where their tongues meet again in a messy, slow kiss that mixes saliva and cum between them.
They clean each other's faces with lazy, thorough strokes of their tongues. Minnie licks a trail down Miyeon's cheek to her jaw. Miyeon returns the favor, dragging her tongue along the edge of Minnie's chin where cum has dripped onto her tanned neck. They are savoring it, taking their time, swallowing each collected taste with soft sounds of satisfaction. When they finish, their faces are glistening with saliva but the cum is gone, eaten, shared between them.
Miyeon turns to Minnie, her lips still glistening, her cheeks still burning. "So... could we maybe do this again? Like, one more time before I leave on Saturday?"
Minnie grins, lazy and fulfilled. She wraps her fingers around your spent cock and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your tip. "I'll double his pineapple intake tonight." She tilts her head to look up at you. "Thanks for being a good sport, baby. Knew you'd come through."
Miyeon looks at you too, face flushed and warm, blonde hair an absolute wreck, doe eyes bright with gratitude. "Seriously, thank you. I actually feel ready for once. Like I know what I'm doing now."
You lean back on your elbows, completely spent, cock softening against your thigh. "Anytime. Honestly, the pleasure was mine. You're going to do great with your boyfriend. He has no idea what's about to hit him.ā
The villa sat on a secluded hillside overlooking the Mediterranean, white stucco walls catching the last orange light of the sunset. Bougainvillea climbed trellises along the terrace, and the salt breeze carried the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below.
Kwon Eunbi stepped out of the rental SUV, stretching her arms above her head. Her white sundress pulled tight across her chest, the fabric straining. At thirty, she moved with the easy confidence of a woman who knew exactly what her body could do. Behind her, Kim Minju emerged more slowly, blinking at the view through slightly glassy eyes.
"Wine's already in the car," Minju said, holding up a bottle by the neck. "I told you we should have stopped twice."
"You told me we should have stopped three times," Eunbi said, laughing. "We'd still be in Naples."
Their fathers had driven separately. Mr. Kwon ā Jungsoo, fifty-seven, silver at the temples, still broad-shouldered from a youth spent in construction ā parked the sedan and began unloading luggage. Mr. Kim ā Hyunshik, fifty-four, leaner, quieter, with the careful hands of a man who restored furniture for a living ā carried the boxes of provisions toward the villa's heavy wooden door.
"Girls, help with the bags," Jungsoo called.
"In a minute," Eunbi said, already heading for the terrace. "We're admiring the view."
Minju followed, bare feet slapping against the warm stone tiles. They dropped onto the cushioned loungers, and Eunbi twisted the cork from the wine bottle with practiced ease. No glasses. She drank first, then handed it over.
"We earned this," Eunbi said. "The drama wrapped. Your audition's done. Three days of nothing."
"Nothing except our fathers," Minju said, but she was smiling. She took a long swallow, the wine staining her lips red.
"They'll fish and drink and leave us alone. You'll see."
They didn't know yet. They couldn't have known.
---
Dinner was grilled fish and vegetables, bread dipped in olive oil, and bottle after bottle of the local red. The terrace lights cast amber pools across the table. Cicadas buzzed in the darkness beyond.
Minju was on her fourth glass, maybe her fifth. She'd lost count. The wine made everything soft at the edges ā her father's laugh, Eunbi's hand on her knee, the way the stars seemed to sway overhead.
"To finishing the shoot," Hyunshik said, raising his glass.
"To getting cast in something good," Minju corrected, and they all drank.
Eunbi was matching her glass for glass. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair coming loose from its clip. She'd kicked her sandals off under the table and her dress strap had slipped down one shoulder.
"Remember debut," Eunbi said, her words starting to blur. "Remember that first showcase. We were so scared."
"We were babies," Minju said. "Actual babies."
Jungsoo watched them both, his glass half-empty. He hadn't been drinking as fast. Neither had Hyunshik. They exchanged a look ā the kind of look men shared when they were thinking the same thing and hadn't said it yet.
"More wine," Eunbi declared, reaching for the bottle. Her hand missed twice before she grabbed it.
"I think that's enough," Hyunshik said gently.
"It's vacation." Eunbi poured, sloshing wine across the table. "Vacation means ā means no rules."
"Your mother would kill me," Jungsoo said, but he was smiling.
"Mother's not here."
The words hung in the air longer than they should have.
Minju finished her glass and let it tip sideways on the table. "I'm drunk," she announced, as if discovering something new. "Really, really drunk."
"Me too," Eunbi said. They looked at each other and burst into laughter, the kind of laughter that came from nowhere and wouldn't stop.
Hyunshik stood, gathering plates. "Time to get you both to bed."
"No," Minju said, but she didn't move. The world had started tilting gently, and if she closed her eyes, it would probably tilt right off its axis.
"I'll take Minju," Hyunshik said, reaching for his daughter's arm.
Minju let herself be pulled up. The terrace spun. She leaned into her father, her head against his chest. "I'm gonna be sick," she murmured.
"Bathroom's inside. Come on."
He guided her through the villa's dark hallway to the guest bathroom, where she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and retched. Hyunshik held her hair back, rubbing circles on her back.
"You're okay," he said. "You're okay."
When she was done, he helped her to the bedroom at the end of the hall ā the smaller one with the twin bed and the window facing the garden. She fell onto the mattress fully dressed, her skirt riding up her thighs.
"Sleep," Hyunshik said, pulling a blanket over her. "I'll check on you later."
She was already gone, her breathing deep and even.
---
Outside, Eunbi had made it to the lounger on the terrace but no further. She lay sprawled, her dress bunched around her hips, her underwear visible ā pale pink lace. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted.
Jungsoo stood over her, a glass of water in his hand that he'd intended for her to drink. "Eunbi. Wake up. Drink this."
She didn't stir.
He set the glass down and crouched beside her. Her breathing was slow and heavy ā passed out, not sleeping. He touched her shoulder, shook gently. Nothing.
"She's out," Hyunshik said, coming up behind him.
"Both of them?"
"Minju's unconscious. Won't wake up until morning, at least."
Jungsoo stood, looking down at his daughter's exposed body. The terrace light caught the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts beneath the thin cotton. He felt something tighten in his chest ā something he'd felt before, on other nights, in other rooms, when he'd watched her change or step out of the shower or dance too close at a family wedding.
The same thing Hyunshik felt, probably. The same thing neither of them had ever said aloud.
"Let's get her inside," Jungsoo said.
They carried her together ā Jungsoo at the shoulders, Hyunshik at the feet ā and laid her on the bed in the master bedroom. The one Jungsoo was supposed to share with his daughter, the one with the king-sized mattress and the doors that opened onto the private terrace.
Eunbi didn't move when they set her down. Didn't stir when her father pulled her dress up to cover her thighs, though his hands lingered a moment too long.
They stood in the doorway, looking at her.
"It's been a long time," Jungsoo said quietly, "since I've seen a woman that beautiful."
Hyunshik said nothing. But his eyes didn't leave Eunbi's sleeping form.
---
They sat at the kitchen table, the last bottle of wine between them. The terrace doors were open, and they could hear the ocean, the cicadas, nothing else.
"She looks just like her mother," Jungsoo said, staring into his glass. "At that age. Exactly like her."
"You still think about her?"
"Every day." He drank. "Some things don't go away. Some things you carry until you die."
Hyunshik nodded slowly. "Minju has her mother's hands. The same fingers. The same way of holding a cup."
They were both widowers. Jungsoo's wife had died when Eunbi was fifteen ā cancer, quick and brutal. Hyunshik's wife had left when Minju was twelve, walked out one morning and never came back. They'd raised their daughters alone. They'd watched them grow, watched them become women, watched them go out into the world and come back older, harder, more beautiful than they'd left.
And they'd wanted things. Things they'd never said.
"I think about it," Jungsoo said. "More than I should."
"Think about what?"
"You know what."
The silence stretched.
"She's your daughter," Hyunshik said.
"I know what she is."
"Then why are you saying this?"
Jungsoo set his glass down. His hands were steady. "Because she'll never know. Because she's drunk and she's sleeping and she'll never remember a thing. Because I've spent fifteen years wanting something I can't have, and tonight ā tonight I don't care anymore."
Hyunshik's jaw tightened. "That's not ā "
"Don't pretend you haven't thought about Minju the same way."
The words landed like a slap. Hyunshik's face went pale. Then red. Then pale again.
"That's different," he said, but his voice cracked.
"Is it?"
They stared at each other across the table. Two men who had raised their daughters alone. Two men who had watched their daughters grow into women they'd wanted in ways a father shouldn't want.
"Let's make a deal," Jungsoo said. "We swap. Just for tonight. You take Eunbi. I take Minju. In the morning, they won't know anything. They'll just wake up sore and hungover and blame the wine."
Hyunshik didn't answer. But he didn't get up and leave. He didn't say no.
"She's beautiful," Hyunshik said finally. "Your daughter. She's ā "
"I know."
"I've looked at her sometimes. At dinner. At holidays. And I've thought ā "
"I know."
Hyunshik closed his eyes. "What happens after?"
"After tonight? We never talk about it. We never mention it. It didn't happen."
"And our daughters?"
"They'll never know." Jungsoo's voice was hard. "And if they ever suspect, we deny it. Swear on our lives."
Hyunshik emptied his glass in one swallow. Then he stood.
"One condition," he said.
"Name it."
"Tomorrow night. We do it again. But with our own daughters." He met Jungsoo's eyes. "If we're going to damn ourselves, we do it all the way."
Jungsoo smiled ā a dark, hungry smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."
---
The bedroom was dark except for the sliver of moonlight through the curtains. Jungsoo stood in the doorway, watching Minju sleep. She'd shifted in her unconsciousness ā her skirt was twisted, her blouse had come untucked, and her lips were slightly parted.
She was beautiful. He'd always thought so. At family gatherings, at her debut performance on television, at every awkward dinner where she sat across from him and laughed at his jokes. He'd wanted her then, and he wanted her now.
He closed the door behind him.
The lock clicked.
He crossed to the bed and sat beside her, one hand on the mattress. She didn't stir. He reached out and touched her cheek ā soft, warm, slack with sleep.
"Minju," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"
Nothing.
He traced his finger down her cheek, along her jaw, to her neck. Her pulse beat steadily beneath his fingertip. He slipped his hand lower, to the collar of her blouse, and undid the first button. Then the second. Then the third.
Her bra was white, simple, cotton. He could see the curve of her breasts beneath the fabric, the rise and fall with each breath.
He undid the rest of the buttons and pushed the blouse open. Her stomach was flat, her skin pale in the moonlight. He bent and pressed his mouth to her navel, tasting salt and warmth. She didn't move.
He unhooked her bra. Her breasts fell free ā medium, full, with nipples the color of rose petals. He took one in his mouth, sucking gently, rolling his tongue over the hardening bud.
Minju made a small sound ā not quite a moan, not quite conscious ā and shifted her head to the side. That was all.
He sucked harder, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. His hand found her other breast, squeezing, kneading, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
He pulled back, saliva glistening on her skin. "Beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."
He slid her skirt down, lifting her hips to work it past her ass. She was wearing white panties ā the same set as the bra, practical and sweet. He pressed his palm against the damp spot at the center.
Already wet. Her body was responding even if her mind was gone.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled her panties down her thighs, past her knees, off her feet. She lay naked before him, legs slightly parted, the dark thatch of hair between them glistening.
He spread her legs wider. Her pussy was pink and wet, the lips swollen, the clit a small pearl hidden in its hood. He lowered his head and licked ā a long, slow stroke from her entrance to her clit.
Minju gasped. Her hips twitched. But her eyes stayed closed.
He ate her like a starving man. Lapping at her folds, circling her clit, dipping his tongue into her opening to taste the wetness gathering there. He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, over and over, until her legs trembled and her breathing quickened.
He pushed two fingers inside her. She was tight, hot, gripping his fingers as he curled them up, searching for that spot. When he found it, her whole body jerked.
"Yes," he whispered against her thigh. "Come for me. Come in your sleep."
He pressed his mouth to her clit and sucked hard, fingers fucking her in a steady rhythm, and she came ā a soft cry, her hips rising off the bed, her pussy clenching around his fingers. He drank every drop, licking her through the aftershocks until she stilled.
Then he stood and undressed.
His cock was hard, thick, the head flushed dark. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs, the tip pressing against her wet entrance.
He pushed in.
The sound Minju made ā caught between a moan and a question ā made his balls tighten. He pushed deeper, her walls stretching around him, and buried himself to the hilt.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You feel ā "
She was tight. Hot. Perfect.
He began to move. Slow at first, long strokes that pulled almost all the way out before driving back in. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. Her head lolled to the side.
He grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the bed creaking beneath them, the headboard knocking against the wall. Her pussy gripped him with each stroke, slick and wet and desperate.
"Take it," he grunted. "Take your uncle's cock."
He flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up until she was on her knees, her face buried in the pillow. The pose was obscene ā her ass in the air, her pussy spread open, the pink lips glistening in the moonlight.
He pushed into her from behind, and she moaned ā a low, helpless sound.
"That's it." He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her clit. "That's my good girl."
He reached around and found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her. She came again ā he felt her clench around him, heard her cry into the pillow ā and that pushed him over the edge.
He pulled out and turned her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. He stroked his cock twice, three times, and came on her stomach ā thick ropes of cum painting her skin white.
He sat there, breathing hard, looking at what he'd done. Minju lay beneath him, still unconscious, cum cooling on her belly.
He cleaned her with a towel from the bathroom. Kissed her forehead. Pulled the blanket up to her chin.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered.
And he went back to the kitchen, where Hyunshik was waiting.
---
Eunbi lay spread across the king-sized bed like she'd been dropped from a height. Her dress was hiked up, her hair wild, one arm flung over her head. She was snoring softly.
Hyunshik watched her from the doorway for a long time.
She was more woman than Minju ā fuller, curvier, with breasts that strained against her dress and hips that promised a man could hold on tight. She was thirty years old, and she looked like every fantasy he'd ever had.
He closed the door.
He crossed to the bed and knelt beside her, close enough to smell the wine on her breath. He touched her face ā she didn't react. He traced the line of her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist.
"Eunbi," he said quietly. "I'm going to take care of you tonight."
He pulled her dress up and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra ā her breasts fell free, huge and heavy, the nipples already tight. He cupped them in his hands, feeling their weight.
"Jesus," he breathed.
He bent and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking deep, drawing as much of her breast as he could between his lips. She was so soft, so warm. He moved to the other, licking, biting, sucking until both nipples were wet and swollen.
Her pussy was shaved bare, smooth and pink, the lips puffy and parted. He spread her legs and stared ā at her clit, her entrance, the way her body seemed to open for him.
He licked her. He couldn't help it. He pressed his face into her cunt and licked from bottom to top, tasting her, smelling her. She was already wet ā her body preparing itself even without her awareness.
He licked her clit in quick, hard strokes. He pushed his tongue inside her. He sucked her lips into his mouth and released them with a pop.
Her hips began to move ā involuntary, instinctive. Her hands fisted in the sheets.
"That's it," he said against her. "Let yourself feel it."
He slid two fingers into her cunt and kept licking her clit, fast and steady, building her up. Her breathing changed ā shorter, faster, catching in her throat.
She came with a cry, her back arching, her thighs clamping around his head. He didn't stop. He licked her through it, drinking her cum, lapping at her sensitive clit until she went limp.
Then he stripped.
His cock was long, not as thick as Jungsoo's, but curved slightly upward. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and she was so wet that he slid in to the hilt in one smooth motion.
Eunbi gasped. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open.
"Shh," he said, his forehead against hers. "It's okay. Just relax."
He began to move ā slow, deep strokes that made her breasts sway. He watched them, mesmerized, and reached down to squeeze them, to roll her nipples between his fingers.
Her pussy was incredible ā tight and hot, gripping his cock with each thrust. He fucked her in a steady rhythm, building speed, driving deeper.
"You like that," he said. "You like your uncle's cock."
He pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, lifting her hips. Her ass was round and perfect, her pussy visible from behind, still wet and open. He pushed back in, and she moaned ā long and low.
He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, until she came again ā a shuddering orgasm that made her whole body shake.
He kept going.
He reached around to find her clit, rubbing as he fucked her, and she came again almost immediately, crying out, her pussy clenching so hard he could barely move.
That was enough. He pulled out and came on her ass ā thick stripes of cum that dripped down between her cheeks.
He cleaned her up, kissing her back, her shoulders, the nape of her neck.
"Sleep well," he whispered. "Tomorrow's going to be interesting."
---
Minju woke with a headache like a spike behind her eyes.
She was in her bed, naked under the blanket, her clothes folded neatly on the chair. She remembered drinking. She remembered laughing with Eunbi. She remembered her father helping her inside.
Everything after that was blank.
She felt strange ā sore between her legs, tender in a way that suggested she'd had sex. But that was impossible. She'd passed out alone.
She chalked it up to the wine and stumbled to the kitchen, where Eunbi was already sitting at the table, wearing an oversized t-shirt, holding a glass of water like it was the antidote to poison.
"Morning," Eunbi croaked.
"Morning."
They looked at each other. Something passed between them ā a flicker of recognition that neither of them could name.
"Did you sleep okay?" Minju asked.
"Fine. Weird dreams." Eunbi took a sip of water. "You?"
"Same."
Their fathers came in from the terrace, carrying fresh bread and fruit from the market. They were smiling ā relaxed, satisfied in a way Minju hadn't seen in years.
"Feel like I died," Eunbi said. "Is there coffee?"
"Coming right up."
Hyunshik caught Minju's eye and held it for a moment too long. She felt a shiver run down her spine ā not cold, exactly. Something else.
"You look good today," he said.
She flushed. "I look like a corpse."
"You look beautiful."
Eunbi looked up at that, her gaze sharp. But she said nothing.
---
The plan was simple. More wine, more drinking, more passing out. Only this time, they'd finish what they started ā each man with his own daughter.
Eunbi was suspicious. Minju was oblivious. But the wine flowed, and the night grew warm, and by eleven o'clock both girls were unconscious again.
Jungsoo carried Eunbi to her bed ā the master bedroom this time, the big bed. She was heavy in his arms, her head lolling, her breath warm against his neck.
He laid her down gently and stood over her.
This was different. This was his daughter.
He'd seen her as a baby, as a toddler, as a gangly teenager with braces and dreams of being a singer. He'd watched her debut, watched her win awards, watched her become a woman men would kill for.
And tonight, she was his.
He undressed her slowly, savoring each inch of skin revealed. Her dress, her bra, her panties. She lay naked beneath him, and he let himself look.
Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples pink and erect. Her waist curved into hips that flared wide. Her pussy was shaved, the lips swollen, a thin line of moisture visible at her entrance.
He undressed and climbed onto the bed.
He started with her breasts ā sucking, licking, biting. He pulled her nipples between his teeth and tugged, watching them stretch before releasing them with a pop. Her back arched, and she moaned in her sleep.
"I know you can feel it," he whispered. "Some part of you knows."
He kissed down her stomach, over her navel, to the soft mound of her pussy. He spread her legs wide and pressed his face into her, inhaling her scent ā his daughter's scent.
He licked her with long, flat strokes. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue. He pushed his tongue inside her and tasted her, drank from her, devoured her.
She came with a sharp cry, her hips bucking against his face, her cum coating his tongue.
He didn't stop. He kept licking, kept sucking, until she came again, her body shaking, her moans filling the room.
Then he positioned himself between her legs.
His cock was aching, dripping, the head pressed against her entrance. He looked at her face ā so peaceful, so unaware ā and pushed inside.
Eunbi gasped. Her eyes flew open ā unfocused, glassy, confused.
"Dadā?"
"Shh." He stroked her hair, still buried inside her. "It's okay. Just relax."
Her eyes closed again. Her body relaxed. And he began to move.
He fucked her slow, deep, each stroke reaching places no man had touched before. Her pussy gripped him, wet and hot, and he watched his cock disappear into his own daughter's body.
"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so fucking good, Eunbi. So tight. So perfect."
He picked up speed, fucking her harder, the bed creaking beneath them. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. Her mouth fell open, small sounds escaping with each impact.
He pulled out and flipped her over, pulling her onto her hands and knees. Her ass was perfect ā round, firm, spread open for him. He could see her pussy from behind, wet and inviting, and the tight pucker of her asshole just above it.
He pushed into her cunt from behind, and she cried out, her face buried in the pillow.
"That's it," he grunted, grabbing her hips. "Take your daddy's cock."
He fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her clit, her ass rippling with each thrust. He reached around and found her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and she came ā screaming into the pillow, her whole body convulsing.
He pulled out and pushed a finger into her ass. She whimpered but didn't resist. He worked his finger in and out, coating it in her wetness, then added a second.
"Bet you've never had anything here," he said. "Tonight, you will."
He positioned himself at her asshole, the head of his cock pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He pushed ā slowly, steadily ā and watched his cock disappear into her ass.
Eunbi screamed. But her body pushed back against him, taking him deeper.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Your ass is so tight."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her body adjust. Her moans were a mix of pain and pleasure, her fingers gripping the sheets. He reached beneath her and rubbed her clit, and her body relaxed, taking him deeper.
He fucked her ass until she came again, her body shuddering, her ass clenching around his cock. Then he pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and pushed back into her pussy.
He fucked her hard and fast, the headboard knocking against the wall. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
"I'm going to come inside you," he said. "I'm going to fill you up."
"Please," she whimpered ā not conscious, not awake, but not entirely asleep either.
He drove into her one last time and came, his cum flooding her pussy, filling her, dripping out around his cock. He kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm, painting her insides white.
He pulled out and watched his cum leak from her swollen pussy. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, feeling her body accept it.
Then he lowered his mouth to her cunt and licked her clean ā tasting his own cum mixed with hers, eating it, swallowing it.
She was his. Completely his.
---
Minju woke to the feeling of a tongue between her legs.
She was in her bed, her legs spread, someone's face buried in her pussy. She was too drunk to be afraid, too drunk to understand. Her body responded before her mind did ā hips lifting, moans escaping, hands fisting in the sheets.
"Good girl," her father's voice said. "Let me taste you."
"Daddyā?"
"Shh. Just feel."
His tongue circled her clit, fast and hard, and she came ā a weak, surprised orgasm that made her legs shake. He kept licking, drawing it out, and she came again, her body trembling.
He lifted his head, his chin wet with her. "You're so beautiful," he said. "I've wanted this for so long."
He climbed over her, his cock hard against her thigh. She could feel it ā hot, thick, pressing against her.
"This is wrong," she murmured.
"I know." He kissed her. "But I don't care anymore."
He pushed inside her.
Minju cried out ā the feeling of being filled, of her father's cock inside her, was too much. He was thick, stretching her, and she felt every inch as he buried himself to the hilt.
"You feel that?" he whispered. "My cock inside my little girl."
"Pleaseā"
"Please what? Please more? Please harder?"
He fucked her slow and deep, his hips grinding against hers. His hands found her breasts, squeezing, pinching her nipples. His mouth found her neck, her collarbone, her lips.
"I've watched you," he said between thrusts. "At every family dinner. At every holiday. I've watched you grow up, and I've wanted you."
She was crying ā tears streaming down her cheeks. But her hips were moving with him, her body betraying her. Her pussy was gripping his cock, sucking him deeper, and she hated how good it felt.
He pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. She heard him spit, heard him slick his cock, and then he pushed into her ass.
"Fuck!" She screamed, her body arching.
"Shh, shh. Take it. Take all of it."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her adjust. His fingers found her clit, rubbing in circles, and pleasure mixed with pain until she couldn't tell them apart. She came ā a violent orgasm that left her gasping ā and he kept going.
He fucked her ass for a long time, building up to a rhythm that made her cry out with every thrust. Her pussy was dripping, her ass stretched around his cock, and she was coming again and again, each orgasm weaker than the last but no less intense.
"Where do you want it?" he asked. "Pussy or ass?"
"Pussy," she gasped. "Please, daddy, come in my pussy."
He pulled out of her ass and pushed into her cunt in one smooth motion. He fucked her hard, fast, desperate ā his breathing ragged, his hands gripping her hips.
"I'm coming," he groaned. "I'm coming inside my daughter."
He drove deep and came, his cum flooding her pussy, hot and thick. She felt it ā felt him fill her, felt his cock pulsing inside her ā and she came too, her body clamping down on him, milking him dry.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them covered in sweat.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair.
She didn't say it back.
---
He fucked her again an hour later.
This time she was more awake, more aware. She could see his face as he pushed into her, could see the hunger in his eyes. She watched him as he rode her, his expression twisted with pleasure, his mouth open, his breathing ragged.
"Tell me you want it," he said.
"I want it."
"Tell me you want your daddy's cock."
"I want your cock. Please. Fuck me."
He fucked her in missionary, her legs on his shoulders, his cock hitting spots that made her see stars. He fucked her in doggy, her face in the pillow, his hands on her hips. He fucked her on top, her riding him, her breasts bouncing in his face as he sucked them.
And when he came inside her the third time, she came with him, her body finally accepting what her mind couldn't ā that she wanted this. That some part of her had always wanted this.
---
The sun rose over the Mediterranean, pink and gold, painting the villa in soft light.
The four of them sat at the breakfast table ā the two fathers, the two daughters ā eating bread and drinking coffee like it was any other morning.
Minju couldn't meet her father's eyes. Eunbi couldn't stop looking at hers.
"Sleep okay?" Jungsoo asked, the picture of innocence.
"Fine," Eunbi said. Her voice was flat. "You?"
"Best night I've had in years."
Something passed between them ā father and daughter, man and woman ā and Minju felt it, felt the shift in the air.
"Minju," Hyunshik said. "Walk with me."
She followed him down to the beach, her bare feet sinking into the cold sand. The waves crashed and retreated, crashed and retreated. The water was turquoise under the morning sun, the cliffs rising white and sheer on either side.
"Do you remember anything?" he asked.
"Some things." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Enough."
"Are you angry?"
She thought about it. His hands on her. His mouth. His cock inside her while she floated in that half-conscious haze. The way her body had responded even when her mind was gone. She thought about how she'd woken up aching and empty and somehow hungry for more.
"I should be," she said. "But I'm not."
Hyunshik stopped walking. He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers.
"I've wanted you for a long time," he said. "Since before you were a woman. Since before you knew what wanting meant."
"That's sick."
"Yes." He touched her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But it's true. And you're not running."
She wasn't. She should have been. Every instinct told her to run back to the villa, pack her bags, call a taxi, get as far from this place as possible. But her feet stayed rooted in the sand, and her body leaned into his touch like a flower turning toward the sun.
"I felt you," she whispered. "Last night. I couldn't move, couldn't wake up, but I felt everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Your cock inside me." She swallowed. "And I liked it."
The words hung in the salt air.
"Say it again," he said.
"I liked it, daddy. I liked your cock inside me."
He kissed her then ā deep, hungry, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She moaned against him, her hands finding his chest, gripping his shirt. His hand slid down her back, over the curve of her ass, pulling her hips against his.
"There's more," he said against her lips. "Tonight. If you want it."
"What kind of more?"
"Everything."
---
They returned to the villa to find Eunbi and Jungsoo sitting close on the terrace, their shoulders touching, a bottle of wine already open between them. Eunbi's hand rested on her father's thigh, her fingers tracing lazy circles through the fabric of his pants.
"Starting early?" Minju asked.
"Hair of the dog," Eunbi said. But her smile was different now ā knowing, hungry. Her eyes traveled over Minju's body in a way they never had before. "You two have a good walk?"
"Informative," Minju said.
She sat down across from them, and Hyunshik settled beside her, his hand finding her knee under the table. The touch sent electricity through her thighs.
Eunbi watched them, then looked at her father. "They know."
"I figured." Jungsoo poured wine for everyone. "Makes things simpler."
"Simpler?" Minju's voice cracked.
"No more pretending." Jungsoo's eyes met hers across the table, dark and steady. "No more wondering what you remember, what you liked, what you want. You're adults. We're adults. And we've all been wanting things we shouldn't want."
"Speak for yourself," Eunbi said. But her hand was sliding higher up her father's thigh.
"You too," Jungsoo said, not looking at her. "I felt you push back against me last night. Heard you moan when I called you a good girl. You wanted it before you were even awake."
Eunbi's cheeks flushed. She didn't deny it.
"So what now?" Minju asked. Her heart was pounding. Her thighs pressed together under the table, the ache between them growing.
"Now," Hyunshik said, his hand squeezing her knee, "we finish what we started. All of us. Together."
---
The afternoon passed in a haze of wine and anticipation. They swam in the sea, the cold water doing nothing to cool the heat building under their skin. Eunbi's white bikini clung to her curves, water beading on her stomach, her breasts, her thighs. Minju wore a black one-piece that cut high on her hips, and she caught both fathers watching her as she walked up the beach.
By sunset, the energy in the villa had shifted. The air itself felt charged, thick with something unspoken.
Dinner was a quiet affair ā cold cuts, cheese, bread, more wine. The four of them sat around the table, and the conversation was halting, loaded. Every glance lingered too long. Every accidental touch sparked.
Minju's foot found Eunbi's under the table. Eunbi pressed back.
"I think it's time," Jungsoo said finally, pushing his chair back. "Unless anyone wants to wait."
Nobody spoke.
"Good." He stood and offered his hand to Eunbi. "Coming, princess?"
She took his hand, and he led her inside.
Hyunshik stood and offered his hand to Minju. "Your turn, baby."
She took it.
---
They met in the master bedroom ā the big one with the king bed and the doors open to the terrace, the Mediterranean glimmering silver under the rising moon.
The four of them stood in the dim light, looking at each other.
Jungsoo moved first. He crossed to Eunbi and pulled her into a kiss ā hard, claiming, his hands cupping her face. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck, and Minju watched her father's hands slide down Eunbi's back, over her ass, gripping hard.
"Daddy," Eunbi breathed against his mouth.
"That's right," he said. "You're my good girl tonight."
Minju felt Hyunshik step behind her, his chest pressing against her back, his hands settling on her hips. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, the spot behind her ear that made her shiver.
"Look at them," he whispered. "Look at what we're going to do to each other."
She watched her father undress Eunbi ā the dress falling away, the bra unhooked, the panties sliding down her thighs. Eunbi stood naked before them all, her large breasts heavy and perfect, her nipples already hard, the dark triangle of hair between her legs glistening with moisture.
"Beautiful," Jungsoo said, and bent to take her nipple in his mouth.
Eunbi moaned, her head falling back. Her hands found his head, pressing him against her breast. "Yes," she gasped. "Suck me, daddy."
Minju's clothes came off next ā Hyunshik undressing her slowly, reverently, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed. When she was naked, he turned her to face the bed, positioning her so she could see everything.
"Watch," he said. "Watch what happens when fathers take what belongs to them."
Jungsoo had guided Eunbi onto the bed, onto her back, her legs spread wide. He knelt between them, his face already buried in her pussy, his tongue working her clit in long, flat strokes. Her moans filled the room ā loud, unashamed, desperate.
"Oh fuck, yes," she cried. "Right there, daddy. Don't stop."
Hyunshik pressed Minju forward until her hands were on the mattress, her face close to Eunbi's. She could see everything ā the way Jungsoo's tongue circled Eunbi's clit, the way her pussy lips were swollen and pink, the way her hips bucked against his mouth.
"Taste her," Hyunshik said. "Taste your friend while my friend eats her."
Minju lowered her head. Her tongue touched Eunbi's clit ā soft, exploratory. Eunbi gasped, her hand finding Minju's hair.
"Yes," Eunbi moaned. "Lick me, Minju. Lick my pussy while his tongue ā oh god ā "
Minju licked harder, her tongue circling Eunbi's clit in counterpoint to Jungsoo's rhythm. The taste was sharp and sweet, the scent filling her nostrils. She felt powerful suddenly, watching Eunbi come apart beneath her.
"That's it," Jungsoo said, pulling back. His chin was wet with her. "Make her come with your mouth while I watch."
Minju took Eunbi's clit between her lips and sucked, her tongue flicking across the tip. Eunbi screamed, her body arching off the bed, her cum flooding Minju's mouth.
She swallowed, and the taste of her best friend coated her tongue.
"My turn," Hyunshik said, and pulled Minju onto the bed.
He laid her beside Eunbi, both of them naked, both of them soaked and trembling. He spread Minju's legs and lowered his head between them, his tongue finding her clit immediately. But before she could lose herself in it, she felt Eunbi's hand slide between her thighs, felt Eunbi's fingers parting her folds.
"Let me help," Eunbi said, her voice low and thick. "You ate me. Let me eat you."
And then Eunbi's mouth was on her pussy, tongue pressing into her, and Minju cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets. Her father's tongue and her best friend's tongue working together, her father's fingers and Eunbi's fingers ā all of them on her, in her, taking her apart.
"Please," she begged. "Please, I'm going to ā "
"Come," her father said against her clit. "Come on our mouths, baby. Let us taste you."
She came with a scream, her body convulsing, her cum spilling onto their tongues. They didn't stop ā they licked her through it, drawing out every wave, drinking every drop.
When she could breathe again, she looked up and saw Jungsoo standing over them, his cock in his hand, hard and thick and dripping. He was stroking himself slowly, watching the two girls on the bed.
"Beautiful," he said. "My daughter and her best friend, both spread open and wet. Ready for us."
"Ready," Eunbi echoed. She sat up and crawled toward him, her breasts swinging. "I want your cock, daddy. I want it in my mouth."
She took him into her mouth without waiting, her lips stretching around his thickness. She bobbed her head, taking him deep, her tongue working the underside of his shaft. Jungsoo groaned, his hands in her hair.
"That's it," he said. "Suck your daddy's cock. Get it wet for your pussy."
Hyunshik pulled Minju to the edge of the bed, positioning her so her head was near Eunbi's ass. He guided his cock to her lips. "Open," he said. "I want to fuck that pretty face while your friend sucks mine."
Minju opened her mouth, and he pushed inside. The taste of her own pussy was still on him ā he'd licked her clean, and now she tasted herself on his cock. She moaned around him, her tongue swirling, her hands gripping his thighs.
The room filled with the sounds of wet sucking and desperate moans. Eunbi gagging on Jungsoo's cock. Minju slurping on Hyunshik's. The two fathers standing side by side, fucking their daughters' faces, watching each other's daughters take them down their throats.
"Look at them," Hyunshik said, his voice strained. "Perfect little cocksuckers."
"My daughter's got a talented mouth," Jungsoo said, thrusting deeper into Eunbi's throat. "Takes it all the way. Don't you, princess?"
Eunbi moaned in response, her nose pressing against his pubic bone.
"Trade you," Hyunshik said.
Jungsoo pulled out of Eunbi's mouth. She gasped, drool and precum stringing from her lips. Hyunshik pulled out of Minju's. They swapped positions ā Jungsoo in front of Minju, Hyunshik in front of Eunbi.
"Open up for your uncle," Jungsoo said, tapping his cock against Minju's lips.
She opened, and he pushed in. His cock was thicker than her father's, stretching her mouth wider. She relaxed her throat and took him deeper, her eyes watering, her hands gripping his hips.
Beside her, Eunbi was moaning around Hyunshik's cock, her eyes closed, her face a picture of pure pleasure.
"We should've done this years ago," Eunbi said when she came up for air. "Traded daddies."
"We're trading more than that tonight," Jungsoo said. He pulled Minju off his cock and pushed her onto her back, spreading her legs. "I want to feel this tight little pussy again. And I want my daughter to watch."
He positioned himself between Minju's legs and pushed inside her in one smooth stroke. She gasped, her back arching, her hands finding his shoulders. He was so thick, so deep, hitting spots that made her see stars.
"Oh fuck," she cried. "Uncle ā "
"Call me daddy," he said, thrusting hard. "I'm your daddy tonight."
"Daddy!" she screamed, and he fucked her harder, his hips slapping against hers, the sound of wet flesh filling the room.
Eunbi watched from the side, her hand between her own legs, fingers working her clit as her father fucked her best friend. "Fuck her, daddy," she moaned. "Fuck that tight little cunt."
Hyunshik knelt behind Eunbi, his cock pressing against her ass. "You want it here?" he asked. "Or in your pussy?"
"Both," she said, pushing back against him. "I want everything."
He pushed into her ass, and she cried out, her body shuddering. "Fuck, yes. Stretch me open."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her adjust, while Jungsoo fucked Minju's pussy in a steady rhythm. The bed creaked beneath them, the sounds of sex echoing off the walls.
"Harder," Minju begged. "Please, daddy, harder."
Jungsoo obliged, driving into her with renewed force. His balls slapped against her ass with each thrust, and she felt her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly.
"I'm going to come," she gasped. "I'm going to come on your cock, daddy."
"Come for me," he said. "Come all over your uncle's cock while my daughter watches."
She came screaming, her pussy clenching around him, her whole body shaking. He kept fucking her through it, riding out her orgasm, and then he pulled out and crawled up to her face, his cock slick with her cum.
"Clean it," he said. "Taste yourself on my cock."
She opened her mouth and took him in, licking her own juices off his shaft, tasting the mix of them on her tongue.
Behind her, Hyunshik was pounding Eunbi's ass in earnest, his hands gripping her hips, his breath ragged. "You like that?" he grunted. "You like your uncle's cock in your ass?"
"Yes!" Eunbi cried. "Fuck my ass, uncle. Fuck it hard."
"Call me daddy."
"Daddy! Fuck my ass, daddy! Make me come!"
His hand found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her ass, and she came ā a violent, shuddering orgasm that made her collapse onto the bed. He followed right after, pulling out and coming on her ass, thick ropes of cum painting her skin.
---
They took a break. Water was passed around. They lay tangled on the bed, sweating and breathing hard, the moonlight painting their bodies silver.
Eunbi was the first to recover. She sat up, looking at Minju, then at the fathers.
"I want to ride my daddy's cock," she said. "And I want Minju to watch. And then I want to watch her ride hers."
"Fair enough," Hyunshik said.
Jungsoo lay back on the bed, his cock already hardening again. Eunbi straddled him, positioning herself over his shaft, and lowered herself slowly. They both moaned as she sank onto him, her pussy swallowing him inch by inch.
"Fuck, princess," he groaned. "You feel so good."
"I know." She began to move, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips. Her breasts bounced in his face, and he reached up to suck them, pulling her nipples between his teeth.
Minju watched, mesmerized. Her friend was fucking her father ā and it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Eunbi's head thrown back, her mouth open, her hands braced on his chest. Jungsoo's hands on her hips, guiding her rhythm.
"She's so good at that," Hyunshik said, pressing against Minju's back. "Think you can ride me like that?"
"Better," Minju said.
He laughed and pulled her onto her back, spreading her legs. "Show me."
She crawled on top of him, taking his cock in her hand and guiding it to her entrance. She was so wet that he slid in easily, and she gasped as he filled her.
"Oh, daddy," she breathed.
"That's it," he said. "Ride me, baby."
She rode him hard, her hips moving in a desperate rhythm, her breasts swaying. Beside them, Eunbi was riding Jungsoo just as hard, their moans mixing, their bodies glistening with sweat.
"I love watching you fuck your father," Eunbi said, her voice strained with pleasure.
"I love watching you fuck mine," Minju replied.
The two fathers looked at each other over their daughters' heads ā and smiled.
"We created beautiful women," Jungsoo said.
"We did," Hyunshik agreed.
"And now they're ours."
"All ours."
Eunbi came first ā screaming, her body convulsing on Jungsoo's cock. Minju followed a moment later, her orgasm triggered by the sound of her friend's climax, by the sight of her father's face twisted in pleasure beneath her.
Both fathers came inside their daughters, filling them, claiming them.
And when it was done, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, the four of them tangled together, cum leaking from both girls' pussies onto the sheets.
---
An hour later, Hyunshik woke Minju with his tongue between her legs.
"Again," he said. "I need to taste you again."
He ate her until she came twice, her hips bucking against his face, her cries waking Eunbi, who watched with hooded eyes from across the bed.
When Minju was limp and trembling, Eunbi crawled over and lowered her mouth to Minju's pussy, licking her father's cum from her folds, sharing the taste with her friend.
"Delicious," Eunbi said, her chin wet. "You taste like my daddy and yours."
Minju pulled her up and kissed her ā tasting herself, tasting both fathers, tasting everything they'd done together.
Jungsoo woke and found Eunbi's ass pressed against his hip. He positioned himself and pushed into her from behind, still half-asleep, fucking her in a slow, dreamy rhythm while she kept kissing Minju.
"Mmm," Eunbi moaned against Minju's lips. "Daddy's inside me again."
"Good," Minju whispered. "Take it."
Hyunshik moved behind Minju, his cock pressing against her pussy, still slick with his cum. He pushed in, and she gasped, breaking the kiss.
"Both of us," she breathed. "Fucking us at the same time."
The fathers fucked them in tandem, matching rhythms, the bed rocking beneath them. Eunbi and Minju faced each other, their foreheads touching, their hands intertwined.
"We're their whores now," Eunbi whispered.
"I know," Minju said. "And I love it."
"Me too."
They kissed again, tongues tangling, as their fathers fucked them toward another climax.
---
The final round started with Eunbi on her knees, her face in the pillow, her ass in the air. Jungsoo knelt behind her, fucking her pussy from behind, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.
"Look at your daughter," Hyunshik said to Minju. "She's beautiful like this."
Minju watched her friend being fucked, watched the way Eunbi's ass rippled with each impact, watched the way her pussy gripped Jungsoo's cock as he pulled out and pushed back in.
"Your turn," Hyunshik said. He guided Minju to her hands and knees beside Eunbi, so the two girls were side by side, their asses in the air.
Hyunshik knelt behind his daughter and pushed into her pussy. The two fathers fucked their daughters side by side, their strokes synchronized, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room.
"Harder," Eunbi begged. "Fuck me harder, daddy."
"You want it harder?" Jungsoo grunted. He pulled out of her pussy and positioned himself at her ass. "You want it here?"
"Yes! Fuck my ass, daddy!"
He pushed into her ass, and she screamed, her fingers clawing at the sheets. He fucked her ass hard, pounding into her while Hyunshik fucked Minju's pussy beside them.
"I want her mouth," Jungsoo said. "Let's swap them."
They pulled out of the girls' asses and pussies and guided them into a new position ā Eunbi on her back at the edge of the bed, Minju on her knees in front of her, facing her father.
"Suck his cock while I fuck your face," Jungsoo said to Minju.
He pushed into Minju's mouth, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Eunbi spread her legs, and Hyunshik knelt between them, pushing into her pussy.
The three of them moved together ā Hyunshik fucking Eunbi, Jungsoo fucking Minju's face, Minju sucking desperately, her hands on his thighs.
"I'm going to come down her throat," Jungsoo said.
"Do it," Hyunshik said. "Fill her up."
Jungsoo came with a groan, his cum shooting down Minju's throat. She swallowed, taking every drop, her eyes watering, her throat working.
Hyunshik wasn't far behind. He fucked Eunbi harder, faster, chasing his release.
"Where?" he gasped.
"Inside," Eunbi said. "Come inside me, daddy. Fill your little girl's pussy."
He came with a roar, his cum flooding her, pumping into her depths.
When it was done, they collapsed again, the four of them a pile of sweaty, cum-soaked limbs.
---
The sun rose over the Mediterranean, painting the room in shades of gold and pink.
Minju woke first, tangled between Eunbi and her father. Her body ached in a way that made her smile. She was sore, stretched, filled ā and she wanted more.
Eunbi stirred beside her. "Morning," she murmured.
"Morning."
They looked at each other, and Minju saw the same hunger in Eunbi's eyes that she felt in her own.
"Last night," Eunbi said.
"Was incredible."
"I know." Eunbi's hand found hers under the sheet. "I don't feel guilty anymore."
"Neither do I."
Their fathers woke slowly, their hands finding their daughters' bodies, pulling them close.
"Good morning," Jungsoo said, his voice rough with sleep.
"Good morning, daddy," Eunbi said.
Hyunshik kissed Minju's forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Perfect," she said. And she meant it.
They stayed in bed for another hour, touching, kissing, exploring. The fathers took turns eating their daughters out, cleaning the cum from the night before with their tongues. The girls returned the favor, taking their fathers' cocks in their mouths, waking them with pleasure.
When they finally rose for breakfast, they sat on the terrace in the morning sun ā the four of them, no longer pretending, no longer hiding.
Minju looked across the table at Eunbi, at Jungsoo, at her own father. She thought about the weekend ahead, about the nights still to come, about everything they'd already done and everything they hadn't tried yet.
"What happens now?" she asked.
Eunbi smiled, her hand finding her father's under the table. "Now we enjoy the rest of our vacation."
"And after?"
"After," Hyunshik said, his hand squeezing Minju's thigh, "we figure out how to make this work. If you want that."
"I do," Minju said. "I want that."
"Me too," Eunbi said.
The two fathers exchanged a look ā the same look they'd shared on the first night, but different now. Not hungry. Not desperate. Satisfied.
"Then we'll make it work," Jungsoo said.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the waves, the sun climbing higher over the Mediterranean.
"One more night before we leave," Eunbi said, a smile playing on her lips. "We should make it count."
"Oh, we will," Jungsoo said.
And Minju knew, with absolute certainty, that this was only the beginning.
The vintage clock on the bedside table had a habit of skipping a beat every thirty seconds, a rhythmic hiccup that usually annoyed the neighbors through the thin walls of the apartment. Yuna, however, was currently focused on the sensation of her own heartbeat thumping in her ears, her muscles feeling like overcooked noodles. She tried to lift her arm to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, but her limb felt heavy, as if it had been replaced by wet cement.
"I don't have any power," she murmured, her voice sounding small and breathless. She wasn't talking about the electricity in the room, which was humming steadily from the bedside lamp, but the sheer, physical capacity to move a single finger.
You let out a soft laugh and pulled her closer, the fabric of the sheets damp and clinging to your skin. The air in the room was warm, smelling of salt and skin. "It's okay, baby," you whispered, kissing the crown of her head. "I'll take care of you."
She let out a long, shuddering exhale, sinking further into the mattress. The aftermath of the last few hours had left her completely spent, her body still buzzing from the repeated squirt that had left her gasping and shaking. She looked up at you, her eyes slightly glazed but full of a quiet, contented warmth, leaning into your chest as if trying to merge her heartbeat with yours.
As the silence settled back into the room, punctuated only by that clicking clock, you shifted slightly to get more comfortable. "Babe," you said, your voice grazing her ear, "next month is our anniversary. What do you want?"
Yuna didnāt answer immediately; she simply pressed her forehead against your collarbone, her breath hitching in a way that suggested she was still recovering from the peaks of the last few hours. The silence stretched, not out of hesitation, but because the weight of her contentment was so heavy it felt physical. When she finally spoke, her voice was a fragile thread, barely audible over the rhythmic hiccup of the clock.
"A dinner with you," she whispered, the words trembling. "And shopping. I just want to spend the day... just us."
You felt a small, knowing smile tug at the corner of your mouth. You knew her preferencesāthe way she loved the ritual of getting dressed up, the quiet thrill of picking out something small and meaningful to keep as a memento of a specific day. You shifted your leg, feeling the lingering dampness of the sheets, and tightened your hold on her. "That's the easy part," you murmured, kissing her temple. "What else?"
She shifted then, her body sliding against yours with a slow, languid friction. She looked up at you, her eyes searching yours with a sudden, focused intensity that cut through her physical exhaustion. "I want you to do something special for me," she said, her voice regaining a bit of its strength, though still shaky. "Something youāve never done before. Something that... surprises me."
The first time Anna threw a drink at him, Y/N sat in the driver's seat for a full minute with bourbon dripping off his jaw before he reached for the glove compartment and pulled out a napkin.
She watched him in the rearview mirror, waiting. Looking for the flinch. The crack. The thing that would make this interesting.
He wiped his face, folded the napkin precisely, and asked if she'd like him to drive her home.
"I'd like you to remember your place," she said, and the click of her compact closing was the period at the end of the sentence.
That was eighteen months ago.
---
The Anna mansion sat on three acres in the richest district of Tokyo, a modernist monument of glass and steel that looked like a spaceship had mated with a museum. Y/N parked the black Lexus in the circular drive every morning at seven, and every morning he waited. Sometimes fifteen minutes. Sometimes an hour. Anna was never on time because time was something other people kept for her.
She emerged on this particular morning in a cream silk blouse and a black pencil skirt that stopped just above the knee. Her hair was cut sharp as broken glass, dark angles framing a face that would have been beautiful if it ever did anything except sneer. She was small ā barely five-two in heels ā and her body was the kind of narrow that designers built samples for. Small breasts, no hips to speak of, a waist you could almost circle with two hands. Rich girls starved themselves into these shapes, Y/N knew. They called it discipline.
"Open the door," she said, not a question.
He opened the door.
She slid in without looking at him. Her phone was already in her hand, her attention already elsewhere. Y/N closed the door, walked around the hood, settled into the driver's seat. The leather was cold. November in Tokyo smelled like wet concrete and coal smoke.
"Anna Tower. And don't take the Ginza line. The traffic yesterday was inexcusable."
"The expressway had an accident, Miss Anna."
"I didn't ask for an explanation. I asked for results."
He pulled out of the drive. In the rearview mirror, her face was a pale oval in the gray morning light, bent over her phone. She'd been like this since he started ā contemptuous, dismissive, cruel in the casual way of someone who had never been told no. At first he'd thought it was an act. A rich girl performing superiority because she didn't know any other way to be. He'd watched her with waitstaff, with the mansion's housekeeper, with the security guards at her father's building. She treated everyone the same: like furniture that occasionally talked back.
But over time he'd learned to read the patterns. The cruelty was worse on days when her parents called. Worse on anniversaries of things she never mentioned. Worse when she was hungover, or lonely, or had spent another weekend in her cavernous house with no one to talk to except the staff she paid to tolerate her.
None of that made it easier to swallow.
"You're driving too slow."
"The speed limit on this road is forty kilometers, Miss Anna."
"I'm aware of the speed limit. I'm telling you to exceed it."
"That would be unsafe."
She laughed ā a short, flat sound with no humor in it. "Unsafe. That's rich, coming from a man who drives a hundred thousand dollar car for a living. You must feel very important behind that wheel. Big strong man in his little black uniform. Tell me ā do you jerk off in here when I'm not around? Is that why the seat's always warm?"
Y/N's hands tightened on the wheel. One rotation. Two. Then he relaxed them.
"No, Miss Anna."
"Pity. You could use a hobby."
He drove her to Anna Tower. He opened her door. She walked past him into the glass atrium without a word of thanks. He watched her go ā the sharp shoulders, the expensive shoes, the small tight ass in that pencil skirt ā and told himself the job paid for his mother's dialysis. Told himself that was the only number that mattered.
---
The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and wilting chrysanthemums. His mother was propped against two pillows, her thin hands folded over a paperback romance novel she'd read four times already. She smiled when he walked in, and the smile made him ache because it was the same smile she'd given him when he was seven years old and scraped his knee and she'd held him until he stopped crying. She was smaller now. Frailer. Her dark hair had gone gray in patches, and the skin around her eyes had creased into a permanent softness that looked nothing like defeat but something close to it.
"You look tired," she said.
"I'm fine."
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
She patted the bed beside him. He sat. The mattress was thin and the pillowcase had a faint yellow stain that the hospital laundry couldn't get out.
"How was work?"
"Work is work."
"Does she still...?"
"Don't worry about it."
His mother's hand found his. Her fingers were cold, the nails brittle from months of medication. "I worry about you more than I worry about me. That's my job. That's been my job since the day you were born."
"Then do your job and rest."
"Rest. That's all I do." She laughed, and it turned into a cough, and he held her hand through it and felt the small tremors run up her arm into his chest. "I was thinking about your father today."
"You don't have to think about him."
"I know. But I was remembering the way he used to hold you. Big hands, and you were so small. He'd lift you up and you'd laugh ā that baby laugh, the real one ā and he'd look at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. Before he left. Before he... stopped looking at us at all."
"He was a coward."
"He was a man who couldn't handle what life gave him. You're not like that. You're the strongest person I know."
Y/N looked at their joined hands. His mother's wedding ring was loose on her finger now. She'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose.
"I'm going to get you better," he said.
"I know."
"I mean it. I'll do whatever it takes."
She squeezed his hand. "I know you will. That's what scares me."
---
Three days later, the pattern escalated.
It happened on a Tuesday, after she'd spent the morning at a board meeting she'd been forced to attend. Her father had called at six AM, barking orders through the speakerphone while Anna held the device away from her ear, her face a mask of cold fury. She hadn't spoken a word during the drive.
When they reached Anna Tower, she didn't get out immediately. She sat in the back seat, her hands folded in her lap, staring at the back of his head.
"You know what he said to me?" she asked, her voice flat. "He said I embarrassed him in front of the board. I didn't say a single word the entire meeting. I sat there in my expensive suit and smiled at old men who've been fucking the company since before I was born. And that embarrassed him."
Y/N said nothing.
"I asked him to remember my birthday next week. Do you know what he said?"
"No, Miss Anna."
"He said he'd have his assistant send a gift. His assistant." She laughed, the sound hollow and sharp. "I'm his daughter and he's outsourcing my birthday to a woman who doesn't know my middle name."
The silence stretched. Y/N kept his hands on the wheel, his eyes forward.
"I hope you don't have children," she said, her voice dropping. "I hope you never bring a child into this world just to abandon them. But you probably will. Men like you always do. You'll get some girl pregnant, promise her the world, and then disappear when it gets hard. You're all the same."
"That's not true."
The words came out before he could stop them. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, Miss Anna."
"No, no. You said something. Say it again."
"I said that's not true."
"Prove it."
"I don't have to prove anything to you."
She smiled ā a thin, mean smile. "You're right. You don't. Because you're my driver. And drivers don't talk back. Drivers sit in their little seats and do what they're told. You forgot your place."
She opened her purse, pulled out a bronze paperweight she'd taken from the boardroom ā a heavy thing shaped like a bull. She held it up.
"Open your mouth."
"What?"
"Open your mouth. I want to see how much you can take before you break."
He stared at her. Her eyes were bright, hard, cruel. She was testing a new game.
"Miss Anna, I don't thinkā"
"You don't think. That's the problem. Open your mouth or I'll have you fired today."
He opened his mouth.
She pressed the bull against his cheek, grinding the metal into his skin. The edge bit. He tasted blood.
"See?" she said, her voice soft. "You can take it. You can always take it." She pulled the paperweight away, examined the small smear of red on its edge, and dropped it back in her purse. "Drive me to the boutique. I need a dress for a party I don't want to attend."
He drove. The blood dried on his cheek. She didn't mention it.
---
The hospital bills arrived on Thursday. Y/N sat in his small kitchen, the papers spread across the table like a map of his failures. The dialysis was helping ā his mother was stronger this week, her color better, her laugh less wheezy ā but the cost was a number that grew no matter how much he paid.
He worked the math three times. Each time, the result was the same.
At this rate, he'd be in debt for the next fifteen years.
He folded the bills, put them in the drawer, and drove to the Anna mansion to pick up Anna for a dinner party in Roppongi.
She was wearing red. A dress that clung to her narrow frame like paint, showing off the sharp lines of her collarbones and the small curve of her breasts. Her heels were high enough to make her legs look endless. Her makeup was flawless. She looked like a painting of a woman who had never been touched by anything ugly.
"Don't embarrass me tonight," she said, sliding into the car. "Park where I tell you. Wait where I tell you. Don't talk to anyone."
"Yes, Miss Anna."
"And if my father calls, tell him I'm not available."
"If your father calls, I'll transfer him to your phone."
She looked at him in the rearview mirror, her eyes narrow. "Did I stutter?"
"Your father owns the company I work for, Miss Anna. I can't refuse his calls."
She laughed, the sound brittle. "You're afraid of my father. That's precious. You should be more afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of either of you."
The words hung in the air. She stared at him, her expression unreadable.
"Good," she said finally. "Fear is boring."
---
The dinner party lasted four hours. Y/N waited in the car, scrolling through his phone, reading about new treatments for kidney disease he couldn't afford. The November air seeped through the window seals, carrying the smell of rain and exhaust. He drank coffee from a convenience store cup and watched the restaurant's entrance.
When she finally emerged, she was drunk. Not the playful kind of drunk ā the mean kind. Her heels clicked unevenly on the pavement, and her escort ā a man in an expensive suit who looked like he'd been carved from marble and self-regard ā had his hand on her elbow, guiding her toward the car.
"Here she is," the man said, his voice smooth and condescending. "Your charge. Try to keep her upright."
He handed Anna to Y/N like she was a package. She stumbled, caught herself on Y/N's chest, and looked up at him with eyes that didn't quite focus.
"Kenji," she said, the name dripping with contempt. "He's been trying to get in my panties for six months. Tonight he finally got to touch my elbow. Progress."
"Goodnight, Anna." Kenji walked away without looking back.
She watched him go, her expression unreadable. Then she turned to Y/N.
"Drive me home. I need to vomit."
He opened the door. She climbed in.
---
She didn't vomit. Instead, she sat in the back seat with her head against the window, her breath fogging the glass, her mood cycling through anger and self-pity like a weather system with no center.
"My mother called," she said. "She's not coming to Tokyo for Christmas. Something about a merger. She's been saying that for four years. The merger that never ends."
Y/N said nothing.
"I asked her if she remembered what I looked like. She said she had a picture on her desk. A picture. Not me. A picture."
"You're talking to me, Miss Anna. Why?"
The question slipped out. She looked at him in the rearview, her eyes sharpening.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you have friends. You have people who get paid to listen to you. Why are you telling this to your driver?"
She was quiet for a long moment. The car hummed through the wet streets.
"Because you don't want anything from me," she said finally. "Everyone else wants something. Money, connections, my body, my name. You just want to survive. There's something clean about that."
"Clean."
"Dirty, then. But honest. You hate me, and you don't try to hide it. That's more than I get from most people."
"I don't hate you."
"Liar."
He pulled up to the mansion gate. The driver's window rolled down, and the security guard nodded, recognizing the car. The gate swung open.
"You're not what I expected," she said, as they rolled up the drive.
"What did you expect?"
"Someone who would quit. Someone who would hit me back. Someone who would prove me right about men." She laughed, the sound hollow. "But you just take it. Like a saint. Or a fool."
"Maybe I'm both."
"Maybe you are." She opened the door before he could get out. "Seven tomorrow. Don't be late."
She walked inside. The door closed.
Y/N sat in the car, his hands on the wheel, and thought about the bottle in his glove compartment.
---
Three nights later, she went too far.
It happened at eleven PM, after a charity gala where she'd spent six hours drinking champagne and making the catering staff cry. He'd waited in the garage of Anna Tower, scrolling through hospital bills on his phone, calculating numbers that never quite added up.
She stumbled out of the elevator with her heels in one hand and her phone in the other, her hair disheveled, her mascara smudged at the edges. Drunk. Not the first time.
He got out, opened the door. She ignored him, climbed in, and dropped her phone on the seat. Then she looked up and her eyes focused on him with the particular clarity of someone who had been looking for a fight all night and finally found a target.
"You're late," she said.
"I've been here since six, Miss Anna."
"Then you should have come inside and gotten me. I was bored. Do you know how boring those things are? A hundred rich people jerking each other off about how generous they are. And my father couldn't even show up. Sent a check. Like that makes up for it. Like anything makes up for it."
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry. You're always sorry. It's your favorite word, isn't it? Sorry, Miss Anna. Sorry for breathing. Sorry for existing." She leaned forward, and the champagne smell was thick on her breath. "You know what I think? I think you're not sorry at all. I think you sit in this car every day and hate me. I think you imagine all the things you'd like to do to me. I can see it in your eyes. That quiet little hate. It's pathetic."
He said nothing.
"Drive me home. And try not to fantasize about crashing the car and killing us both. Though I suppose that would be the most excitement I'd get all month."
He pulled out of the garage. The streets were wet with a fine mist that hung in the headlights like static. Anna leaned her head against the window, her breath fogging the glass.
"My mother called today," she said, to no one. "She's extending her trip. Again. Says the London office needs her. She's been saying that for four years now. You know what I think? I think she just doesn't want to come home. I think she and my father built this whole empire so they'd have an excuse to never see each other. And I'm the inconvenient byproduct they forgot to write off."
Y/N said nothing.
"I'm talking to you. Answer me."
"What would you like me to say, Miss Anna?"
"I don't know. Something interesting. Something that isn't 'yes Miss Anna,' 'no Miss Anna,' 'sorry Miss Anna.' You're a person, aren't you? You must have thoughts. Opinions. Tell me something I don't know."
He checked the rearview. She was watching him, her chin propped on her hand, her eyes glassy and mean.
"My mother is dying," he said.
The words came out flat. He hadn't planned to say them. They just... arrived.
Anna blinked. For a moment, something flickered in her face. Something almost human.
Then she laughed.
"Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you? Everyone's mother dies. It's the most boring tragedy in the world. Do you think you're special because you've got a dying parent? Welcome to the club. We don't get T-shirts, but we do get to watch them rot in hospital beds while we go to work and pretend everything's fine."
The car slowed at a red light. Y/N's hands were white on the wheel.
"You know what your problem is?" she continued, warming to her theme. "You think suffering makes you interesting. It doesn't. Suffering just makes you weak. And weak people bore me. You've been boring me for eighteen months. Every single day, you sit in that seat and take it, and I keep waiting for you to do something ā anything ā that proves you're alive. But you never do. You just take it. Like a dog. A pathetic, obedient dog."
The light turned green.
"I'm not going to cry for your mother," Anna said, settling back in her seat. "I hope she dies in pain. I hope you watch her go and there's nothing you can do about it. Maybe then you'll finally grow a spine."
Y/N drove.
He drove through the gate of the Anna mansion. He parked in the circular drive. He got out, walked around the car, and opened her door.
"Same time tomorrow," she said, stepping past him. "Don't be late."
She walked inside without looking back. The door closed. The lights in the mansion's foyer flicked on, then off.
Y/N stood beside the car in the misting rain for a long time.
Then he got back in the driver's seat, opened the glove compartment, and looked at the small bottle he'd been keeping there for two months.
Midazolam. He'd gotten it from a friend who worked in veterinary medicine. Liquid, fast-acting, undetectable in alcohol. He'd bought it the same week Anna had thrown a fountain pen at his head, catching him above the eyebrow, leaving a cut that bled for twenty minutes. He'd sat in this car with blood running down his face and thought about his mother. Her hospital bills. Her soft hands. Her faith in him.
He'd told himself the midazolam was insurance. Something to have. Something to hold. He'd never planned to use it.
He held the bottle now, and his hands were steady.
---
The next morning, he picked her up at seven. She was in a worse mood than usual ā he could tell by the way she slammed the door, by the way she didn't even bother to look at him. Her phone buzzed constantly. She ignored it.
"Mother again," she said at one point, holding up the screen. "Seven missed calls. You'd think she was planning my funeral."
He drove. The city moved past the windows in sheets of gray and neon. Rain streaked the glass.
At the boutique, she spent forty-five minutes trying on clothes while sales assistants hovered nervously. She bought nothing. She complained about the quality, the service, the lighting. She walked out without tipping the girl who'd brought her seven dresses.
"Pathetic," she said, sliding into the car. "Everything in this city is pathetic."
He drove her to lunch at a members-only restaurant in Roppongi. She drank three glasses of wine with her salad. By the time she came out, her balance was unsteady and her eyes had that blurred edge.
"Take me home," she said. "I'm tired."
"Yes, Miss Anna."
He took the longer route. Not to the mansion ā to his house. She didn't notice. Her head was lolling against the window, her eyes half-closed. The wine had made her sleepy. She wasn't watching where they were going.
"I hate him," she said, suddenly. "My father. I hate him more than anyone in the world."
Y/N said nothing.
"Do you hear me? I said I hate him."
"I heard you."
"He doesn't even know me. He doesn't know anything about me. He thinks he can just... send money and that makes up for it. Like I'm a bill. Like I'm an invoice he pays once a month." She laughed, the sound wet and bitter. "I'm twenty years old and I've never even..." She stopped. Shook her head. "Never mind."
"You've never what?"
The question slipped out. She looked at him in the rearview, her eyes narrowing.
"Never had anyone who actually wanted me," she said, the words slurring at the edges. "Not for me. Just for the name. The money. The fucking trust fund. Do you know how many men have tried to get in my pants? Hundreds. Every party, every gala, every charity event. And not one of them wanted Anna. They wanted the Anna name. They wanted the corporation, the inheritance, the legacy." She laughed again. "At least you don't want anything from me. You just take the abuse and show up the next day like a good little dog."
The car turned onto a street she didn't recognize.
"Where are we going?"
"A shortcut."
"There are no shortcuts to the mansion from here. Turn around."
"Just relax, Miss Anna. I know what I'm doing."
She sat up straighter, her eyes sharpening with suspicion. "Turn the car around. Now."
"We're almost there."
"I said turn aroundā"
He pressed a button. The child locks clicked.
Anna's face went still. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing you didn't ask for."
"I didn't ask for anything. I'm telling you to stop this car."
"Eighteen months," he said quietly. "Eighteen months of your bullshit. The drinks. The pens. The insults. My mother is dying and you ā" His voice cracked, just a little. He steadied it. "You said you hoped she died in pain."
Anna's hand was on the door handle, pulling. The lock held.
"Let me out. Right now. I'll have you fired. I'll have you arrested. I'll ruin you."
"You can't ruin someone who's already at the bottom."
He pulled into the driveway of his house ā a small, weathered structure in a neighborhood of similar small, weathered structures. The porch light was off. The curtains were drawn.
Anna was screaming now. Her voice was high and thin, the voice of someone who had never in her life been genuinely afraid.
He parked, turned off the engine, and sat for a moment with his hands on the wheel.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But you asked me to do something interesting."
He opened the bottle of midazolam, and he turned around.
---
She fought. He'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was how easy it was to overpower her. She was ninety-five pounds soaking wet, and the alcohol had made her clumsy. Her fists beat against his chest, his shoulders, his face. He caught her wrists, twisted them behind her back, and held her while she screamed into the leather seat.
"Please ā please don't ā I'll do anything, I'll give you anything, my father will pay you ā"
"I don't want your father's money."
"Then what do you want?"
He didn't answer. He found the vein in her neck ā thin and blue and pulsing ā and pressed the needle in.
She convulsed. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened and closed twice, like a fish gasping on dry land.
Then she went limp.
He carried her inside. She was lighter than he'd expected. Her small body fit against his chest like something fragile, something that could break if he held too tight. He laid her on his bed ā a twin mattress on a metal frame, sheets his mother had bought three years ago at a department store sale.
He bound her wrists to the headboard with rope he'd bought two months ago. Her ankles to the footboard. He did it methodically, carefully, checking each knot twice.
Then he sat in the chair beside the bed and waited.
The clock on his nightstand ticked. 11:47 PM. 11:48. 11:49.
Anna's chest rose and fell. Her makeup was smudged from the tears and the struggle. Without the sneer, without the contempt, she looked young. She looked like a girl who had never been held.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a second vial.
Aphrodisiac. He'd researched it carefully ā a compound that increased blood flow, heightened sensitivity, pushed the body into a state of arousal it couldn't control. The effects would last hours. She would feel everything. She would want everything, even as she hated everything.
He filled the syringe. Calculated the dose.
Her eyes fluttered.
He pressed the needle into her arm and pushed the plunger home.
---
Anna woke to heat.
It was the first thing she registered ā before the pain in her wrists, before the confusion of the unfamiliar ceiling, before the terror ā the heat. It bloomed in her stomach, low and deep, spreading outward through her thighs, her chest, her face. Her skin felt too tight. Her clothes felt like sandpaper.
She tried to move and couldn't.
The ropes bit into her wrists. She pulled against them, and her hips arched off the mattress involuntarily as the movement sent a spike of something ā pleasure? ā through her core.
"What did you do to me?"
Her voice was hoarse. Her throat was dry.
Y/N sat in the corner, watching. A small camera was set up on a tripod beside him, its red light blinking.
"I gave you something," he said. "Something that will make this easier for both of us."
"Untie me. Right now. If you touch me, I'll ā"
"You'll what?" He stood. Walked toward the bed. "You'll call the police? You'll have me fired? You've already done all of that, Anna. You've done everything you could to me. Now it's my turn."
"My father willā"
"Your father isn't here. Your father is never here. I know more about you than he does, Anna. I've been watching you for eighteen months. I know you eat the crusts off your sandwiches. I know you cry in the car when you think I'm not looking. I know you're a virgin."
Her breath caught. The heat in her stomach intensified, coiling, demanding.
"How do youā"
"I can see it in the way you move. The way you flinch when someone touches you. The way you talk about men like they're predators." He sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped. "You're twenty years old and no one has ever touched you. Isn't that right?"
She didn't answer. Her jaw was clenched so tight her teeth ached.
"I'm going to touch you now," he said. "And you're going to hate it. And you're going to love it. And I'm going to record every second."
His hand landed on her knee.
She flinched like she'd been burned. But beneath the flinch ā beneath the fear and the fury ā her body leaned into the touch. The aphrodisiac was already working, flooding her system, turning every nerve ending into a raw wire.
"No," she whispered. "Please. Don't."
He pushed her skirt up. Her thighs were pale and smooth, slightly parted. The heat between them was visible ā a flush that spread from her knees to the crease of her hip.
"I know you don't mean that," he said. "Your body is already saying yes."
She squeezed her eyes shut. A tear escaped, tracking down her temple into her hair.
"I hate you," she said.
"I know." His hand slid higher. "But that's not going to stop this."
---
He took his time undressing her. Not because he wanted to be gentle ā but because he wanted her to feel every second of it. The slow unbuttoning of her blouse. The revelation of her small breasts, her pink nipples hard and tight from the cold and the drug and the fear. The way her breath quickened when he pulled her panties down her thighs.
She was perfect in the way expensive things are perfect ā polished, curated, untouched. Her body was slim and smooth and hairless, the body of a woman who had never had to work for anything and had never wanted anything enough to reach for it.
Her pussy was bare, the lips pink and swollen. Wet. The aphrodisiac had done its work ā she was already slick, already ready, her body betraying her in ways her mind couldn't control.
"Look at you," he said. "So wet. And I haven't even touched you yet."
"Fuck you."
"That's the idea."
He positioned the camera closer, adjusting the angle to capture her face, her body, the spread of her thighs. She turned her head away, but he caught her chin, forced her to look.
"I want you to watch," he said. "I want you to remember this."
He pushed her legs apart, baring her completely. His thumb found her clit ā small, tight, hidden beneath its hood. He pressed.
A sound escaped her. A high, thin cry that was half protest and half need. Her breath caught, and then a low moan slipped past her lips ā a sound she couldn't stop, a sound that made her cheeks burn with shame even as her hips tilted upward, searching for more of his touch.
"That's it," he murmured. "Let it happen."
He worked her slowly, circling the tiny nub with his thumb while his fingers explored the wet heat of her entrance. She was tight. So tight he could barely slide one finger inside. She gasped, her back arching, her bound hands clenching into fists. Another moan escaped her ā louder this time, a trembling, broken sound that vibrated in her throat.
"You've never had anything inside you," he said. "Not even a finger."
"I s-said fuck youā" But her voice cracked on the last word, dissolving into a helpless whimper as his finger pushed deeper.
"Your body says something different."
He added a second finger, stretching her. She cried out ā a sharp, keening sound that turned into a long, shaking moan as the stretch sent waves of heat through her pelvis. Her hips bucked, caught between the instinct to escape and the instinct to push into the sensation. The aphrodisiac was burning through her now, turning every touch into pleasure, every thrust into a desperate, building need that made her moan without permission.
He fucked her with his fingers until she was dripping ā until her slick ran down his hand, wetting the sheets beneath her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale carrying a soft moan, her head thrown back, her throat exposed. Her eyes were half-lidded, glassy, lost somewhere between resistance and surrender. A low, guttural sound rolled out of her chest ā ahhh, ahhh, ahhh ā in rhythm with his fingers.
"Please," she said, and he couldn't tell if she was begging him to stop or to continue. Her voice was wrecked, raw, thick with a need she'd never known.
He pulled his fingers out. She whimpered at the loss ā a desperate, animal sound that made her bite her lip in shame.
"Not yet," he said. "We're just getting started."
He stood and unbuttoned his pants. His cock was hard, thick, the head flushed dark. He wrapped his hand around it, once, slowly, letting her see.
"I'm going to take your virginity now," he said. "And I'm going to record it. And afterward, you're going to remember who did this to you. Every time you close your eyes. Every time you touch yourself. You're going to remember me."
She shook her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks. But between her legs, her body was open and waiting, slick and glistening and hungry. A small moan escaped her lips, unbidden.
He positioned himself between her thighs. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, nudging at the tight ring of muscle.
"Look at me."
She wouldn't. She couldn't.
He grabbed her chin, forced her gaze to his.
"Look at me, Anna."
Her eyes met his. They were terrified and hateful and full of something she didn't understand.
"Good girl."
He pushed.
The sound she made was not human. It was raw and animal, a cry that tore out of her chest as his cock forced its way into her body. She was so tight that every inch was a battle ā her virgin walls clenching against him, resisting, even as the aphrodisiac made her cream around the invasion. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, and then a long, sobbing moan poured out of her ā oh god oh god oh god ā her voice breaking on every syllable.
"Fuck," he breathed. "So tight. So fucking tight."
He sank all the way in, his pelvis pressing against her thighs, and held still.
She was shaking. Her whole body trembled, tears running in rivers down her temples, her breath coming in small, broken gasps that were half sob and half moan.
"I-I can feel... I can feel you inside me..."
"Yes." He pulled back, then thrust forward. "You can feel me."
The motion was slow, deliberate. He watched her face as he moved ā the way her eyes went wide, the way her mouth fell open, the way her body began to respond despite everything. The aphrodisiac was relentless, turning the pain into heat, turning the violation into a terrible, undeniable pleasure. A low moan built in her chest, rising in pitch with each thrust.
Her hips began to move. Small, involuntary rolls, meeting his thrusts. Her moans grew louder, more desperate ā nnnnh, yesss, ohhh ā the words slipping out before she could stop them.
"That's it," he breathed. "That's it. Let yourself feel it. Let me hear you."
"Noā I don'tā I can'tā" But even as she denied it, a long, shuddering moan rolled out of her, her voice climbing higher, her body betraying every word.
But she could. Her pussy was clenching around him, milking him, pulling him deeper. Her bound hands pulled at the ropes above her head, but she wasn't trying to escape anymore ā she was bracing, holding on, riding the wave of sensation she couldn't control. Her moans turned rhythmic, matching his thrusts ā ah-ah-ah-ah-ah ā her voice rising and falling with each stroke.
He increased his pace. The bed creaked beneath them. The camera's red light blinked, recording everything. Her moans became cries ā sharp, broken sounds that filled the small room.
"I'm going to cum inside you," he said. "I'm going to fill this tight little rich-girl pussy with my cum. And you're going to take it."
She shook her head frantically. "Noā you can'tā it's my first timeā"
"I know. That's the point."
He drove into her harder, faster, his rhythm breaking as the pressure built in his balls. She was crying openly now, but her hips were meeting his thrust for thrust, her body chasing a climax it hadn't asked for. Her moans were incoherent ā a stream of pleasepleaseplease oh god yes don't stop that poured from her lips without her permission.
"Pleaseā" she sobbed. "Please I'mā I'm going toā I can't stop itā"
"Don't stop it. Let go."
She came with a scream that shattered against the walls of his small bedroom ā a high, keening wail that went on and on, her voice cracking and breaking as her body convulsed around him. Her pussy clamped down in rhythmic pulses that pulled him over the edge with her. He groaned, his hips slamming forward, and emptied himself inside her ā hot, thick ropes of cum flooding her virgin womb. His own groan mingled with her scream, a guttural, animal sound of release.
She trembled beneath him, her chest heaving, her eyes staring at the ceiling with an expression he couldn't read. A final, soft moan escaped her lips ā a trembling exhalation that sounded almost like relief.
He stayed inside her for a long moment, catching his breath. Then he pulled out. His cum was already leaking from her, a white trail running down her thigh onto the sheet.
"The camera got all of that," he said.
She didn't respond. Her chest was still heaving, small aftershock moans pulsing through her throat.
He switched positions, turning her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. She was limp, unresisting ā the fight drained out of her, replaced by the chemical heat that still burned in her blood.
"Open your mouth."
"No."
He grabbed her hair, pulled her head back. "Open. Your. Mouth."
She opened it.
He guided his cock ā still wet with her arousal and his cum ā past her lips. She gagged immediately. Her eyes watered. Her hands, still bound, beat against the mattress. But as he held there, a strange, muffled moan vibrated around his shaft ā her body's involuntary response to having him fill her throat.
"Relax your throat," he said. "Breathe through your nose."
She couldn't. The length of him filled her mouth, pressed against the back of her throat. He held there, letting her struggle, letting her choke. But beneath the gagging, he could hear it ā a desperate, humming moan that she couldn't suppress, her hips grinding against the mattress as the aphrodisiac kept her burning.
"You wanted interesting," he said. "Here's interesting."
He fucked her mouth. Slow and deep, each thrust hitting the back of her throat, forcing her to take all of him. Saliva ran down her chin, mixed with tears and the slick of his previous release. The sounds she made were wet and desperate ā gurgling moans that vibrated around his cock, her throat working to accommodate him.
He came down her throat with a groan, holding her head in place while she swallowed convulsively. A long, muffled moan escaped her as she swallowed, her throat muscles milking his release. She coughed when he pulled out, gasping for air, her face a wreck of tears and spit and cum. Even through the coughs, a low, broken moan escaped her.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Good girl. One more round."
He laid her on her side, lifted her top leg, and pressed his cock against her other hole ā the tight, forbidden ring of her ass.
"No," she said, the word barely a whisper. "Please. Not there."
"Beg me."
"...Please."
"I don't think you mean it."
He pushed. Her body fought him, her muscles clenching desperately against the intrusion. She screamed ā a raw, broken sound ā as he forced his way into her, the tight heat of her ass gripping him like a vise. The scream dissolved into a long, shuddering moan as the aphrodisiac transformed even this violation into something her nerves coded as pleasure.
"God, you're tight everywhere," he muttered. "Little rich girl, taking it in every hole."
He fucked her ass the same way he'd fucked her cunt ā slow at first, then faster, building toward another release. She was sobbing into the mattress, her body wracked with involuntary shudders as the aphrodisiac turned even this into something her nerves couldn't distinguish from pleasure. Her moans were muffled by the pillow, but he could hear them ā desperate, keening sounds that climbed in pitch with every thrust.
Her face ā when he turned it toward the camera ā was the face of someone who had left her body behind. Eyes rolled back. Mouth slack. Tongue lolling. The ahegao of complete psychological surrender. A low, constant moan poured from her open mouth ā unnnnhhhh ā a sound of pure, mindless sensation.
He emptied himself inside her ass, filling her a second time. Her body jerked with each pulse, a sharp cry escaping her lips. Then a third creampie in her pussy, still dripping from the first. She moaned through it all ā long, helpless sounds that filled the room.
By the time he finished, she was a wreck. Rope burns on her wrists. Cum running down her thighs. Mascara tracking black rivers down her cheeks. And still the heat burned in her blood, keeping her trapped in a state of aching, endless need. A soft, keening moan escaped her even as she lay still.
He untied her.
She didn't move.
He put a blanket over her body ā a small mercy ā and sat in the chair beside the bed, watching her breathe.
The camera was still recording.
---
She woke at dawn.
The first thing she registered was the pain ā a deep, bruised ache between her legs, in her throat, at her wrists. The second thing was the weight of the blanket, and the unfamiliar smell of the pillow, and the sound of someone breathing beside her.
She turned her head.
Y/N sat in the chair, watching her. A laptop balanced on his knees.
"Good morning," he said.
She tried to speak, but her voice was gone. Her throat was raw.
He turned the laptop toward her. The screen showed a video file, paused on a frame of her face ā mouth open, eyes rolled back, cum running down her chin.
"You're very photogenic," he said.
Her stomach dropped. The terror she'd been too drugged to feel the night before crashed into her now, cold and sharp and absolute.
"What are you going to do with that?"
"Whatever I want." He closed the laptop. "You're mine now, Anna. And here's how this is going to work."
She listened, and the world went small around her.
He told her the terms simply, clearly, without cruelty and without kindness. She would continue to be his. She would come when he called. She would do what he asked. If she refused, the video went to her father, to the press, to every news outlet in Tokyo. The Anna Corporation had enemies. The Anna heiress being fucked like a cheap whore by her driver would be a very profitable leak.
"You'll keep your job," he said. "You'll keep your life. Nobody has to know. But when I want you, you come. Understand?"
She stared at him. Her body was a ruin. Her mind was a blur of heat and shame.
"Understand?"
"...Yes."
"Good girl." He stood. "Now get dressed. I'll drive you home."
She sat up slowly, holding the blanket to her chest. Her thighs were sticky with his release. The marks on her wrists were darkening to bruises.
"You're a monster," she said.
"Maybe." He picked up her blouse from the floor and handed it to her. "But I'm the monster who knows all your secrets now."
She took the blouse. Her hands were shaking.
For the first time in her life, Anna had nothing to say.
---
The first week passed like a wound healing wrong.
She showed up for work every morning at seven. He opened her door. She slid in. They drove in silence through the wet Tokyo streets. At the end of the day, he drove her home. She got out. She didn't say thank you. She didn't say anything.
But on Friday night, his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number ā her personal line.
What do you want from me tonight?
He stared at the screen for a long moment. Then he typed back: My house. One hour. Wear a skirt.
She arrived at eight. She was wearing a gray wool skirt that hit just above the knee and a white blouse buttoned to the collar. Her hair was pulled back. Her face was bare ā no makeup, no armor.
She stood in his doorway, shivering in the November cold, and looked at him with eyes that were hard and terrified at the same time.
"I'm here," she said. "What now?"
He stepped aside. She walked past him into the small house, her heels clicking on the worn floorboards. She looked around at the sparse furniture, the faded wallpaper, the single photograph of his mother on the shelf.
"This is where you live," she said, not a question.
"This is where I live."
"It's small."
"It's mine."
She turned to face him. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her knuckles white.
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"I'm going to use you. Whether it hurts depends on you."
She nodded slowly, as if she'd expected that answer. Then she reached up and unbuttoned her blouse, one button at a time, her eyes never leaving his.
"Is this what you want?"
He crossed the room, took her chin in his hand, and tilted her face up.
"This is what you owe me," he said. "Every time you opened your mouth, every time you threw something at me, every time you made me feel like I was less than human ā this is the payment. And you're going to pay until I tell you to stop."
A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away.
"Kiss me," he said.
She blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Kiss me."
She stared at him. Her lips parted. She leaned forward, hesitant, and pressed her mouth against his.
It was stiff, awkward, a closed-lipped press of flesh against flesh.
He pulled back. "That's not a kiss. That's a surrender. Try again."
She swallowed. Her hands were shaking. She leaned in again, and this time she opened her mouth, her tongue touching his lower lip, tentative and terrified.
He grabbed the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, and kissed her back ā hard, deep, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She made a small sound, a muffled protest, but he held her there, taking what she offered, taking more than she offered. His tongue swept against hers, demanding a response, and slowly ā hesitantly ā she gave it. A soft moan vibrated against his lips as her tongue touched his.
When he pulled back, she was gasping, her lips red and swollen, her eyes wet.
"Better," he said. "Now get on your knees."
---
She dropped to her knees on the worn floorboards. The posture came naturally, as if her body had been waiting for someone to tell her where to put it. Her hands rested on her thighs. Her head was bowed.
He unbuttoned his pants. His cock was already hard, thick and aching from watching her submit.
"Open your mouth. Wide."
She opened. Her tongue was pink, her lips wet. She looked up at him with eyes that were full of hatred and something else ā something that looked almost like anticipation.
He guided his cock into her mouth, feeling the heat of her tongue, the scrape of her teeth as she tried to adjust. He held still, letting her get used to the weight of him, the taste.
"This is what your mouth is for now," he said. "Not insults. Not cruelty. My cock. Understand?"
She made a sound ā a muffled, submissive moan that vibrated around his shaft. He couldn't tell if it was agreement or protest. He didn't care.
He fucked her mouth slow and deep, watching her struggle, watching her eyes water, watching her throat work as she tried not to gag. Spit ran down her chin. Her hands gripped her own thighs, nails digging into the fabric of her skirt. But beneath the struggle, he could hear it ā a low, desperate moan that she couldn't suppress, her body responding to the invasion with a traitorous pleasure.
He came with a groan, filling her mouth, watching her swallow because she didn't have a choice. A soft, defeated moan escaped her as she swallowed, her throat working around his release.
"Clean me," he said, holding his cock in front of her face.
She leaned forward, her tongue swiping along the shaft, lapping up her own spit and his release. Her eyes were glassy. Her cheeks were flushed. A quiet moan hummed against his skin as she cleaned him.
"Good girl. Now take off your clothes and get on the bed."
---
He took her three more times that night. Each time, she resisted less. Each time, her body responded faster, the heat building in her chest, her pussy wet and ready before he even touched her. Her moans grew louder with each round ā more desperate, less ashamed.
The first time, he laid her on the bed and fucked her slow and deep, watching her face contort with reluctant pleasure. Her breathy moans filled the small room ā ohhh, ahhh, yes ā her hips rising to meet his thrusts.
The second time, he bent her over the edge of the mattress, driving into her from behind while she pressed her face into the sheets. Her moans were muffled but unmistakable ā long, trembling sounds that vibrated through the mattress.
The third time, he pushed her against the wall, lifted her leg, and fucked her standing up. Her back scraped against the cheap wallpaper. Her ankles locked around his waist. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her moans were loud, unrestrained, bouncing off the walls ā yes yes yes oh god yes ā her voice climbing higher with each stroke.
"Cum," he ordered. "Cum on my cock, right now."
She came with a sob, her body clenching around him, her head falling back against the wall. Her moan stretched into a scream that broke and cracked and dissolved into helpless, shuddering gasps. He followed a second later, pumping into her, filling her again.
He pulled out and watched his cum drip down her thigh.
"You're not on birth control," he said.
She shook her head, still breathless, still trembling from the aftershocks.
"Good."
Her eyes went wide. "You can'tā"
"I can do whatever I want. That was the deal."
She stared at him, her face pale. But she didn't argue. She didn't fight. She just stood there, cum running down her leg, and looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
---
The second week, he made her come to his house during her lunch break.
She arrived in her corporate clothes ā a black blazer, a white blouse, a pencil skirt that stopped at the knee. She looked like she was there for a business meeting. He met her at the door, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her inside.
"I don't have long," she said. "I have a meeting at two."
"You have an hour. I'll use it well."
He bent her over the kitchen table, pushed her skirt up, pulled her panties down, and fucked her from behind. She gripped the table's edges, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that quickly turned into moans.
He reached around and found her clit, rubbing hard circles while he thrust into her.
"Cum," he said. "Cum for me."
"I can'tā not like thisā" But her body was already winding tight, her moans quickening, her voice climbing.
"You can. You will."
She came with a cry that she muffled against her own arm, her body shuddering, her pussy clenching around him. The moan was bitten off, swallowed, but it escaped anyway ā a high, keening sound that she couldn't contain. He followed, filling her again, pressing deep to keep his cum inside.
He pulled out, grabbed her chin, and kissed her hard ā a messy, open-mouthed kiss that tasted of salt and sex and submission. She moaned into his mouth, her body still quivering.
"You taste like me," he said against her lips.
She didn't answer. She just stood there, her skirt bunched around her waist, his cum leaking down her thigh, and let him look at her.
---
The third week, she started to change.
It was subtle at first. She stopped flinching when he touched her. She stopped crying during sex. Her body began to lean into him instead of away.
He was fucking her on his bed, her legs over his shoulders, his cock buried deep inside her. Her face was flushed, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open. Her moans were different now ā not forced, not reluctant. They were hungry. Hungry and desperate and real.
"You like this," he said. It wasn't a question.
She didn't answer.
"Tell me you like this."
"No."
He slowed his pace, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, agonizingly slow.
"Tell me."
"Iā" Her breath hitched. A long, shaking moan escaped her. "I don'tā"
He pushed harder, hitting a spot that made her gasp, her moan spiking into a cry.
"Tell me the truth."
"Yes," she said, the word torn out of her. "Yes, I like it. I fucking hate you and I like it." Her voice broke on the last word, dissolving into a moan that was almost a sob.
He kissed her ā deep and brutal ā and she kissed him back. Her tongue met his. Her hands tangled in his hair. Her moans poured into his mouth. For one moment, they weren't captor and captive. They were just two bodies, hungry and desperate and lost.
He came inside her, and she held him there, her legs wrapped around his waist, not letting him go. A long, satisfied moan rolled through her as she felt him pulse inside her.
---
The first time he slapped her, it was for talking back.
They were in his living room. She was kneeling on the floor, her skirt pooled around her hips, his cock in her mouth. She'd been doing well ā taking him deep, breathing through her nose, keeping her hands clasped behind her back the way he'd taught her. Soft moans hummed around his shaft as she worked.
Then she pulled off, looked up at him, and said, "Is this all you've got? My father fucks me harder than this, and he doesn't even know I exist."
The words landed like a blade.
His hand moved before he thought about it. The slap caught her across the cheek, sharp and loud in the small room. Her head snapped to the side. Her hair flew across her face.
She turned back slowly. Her cheek was red, her eyes wide and wet. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek.
He grabbed her jaw, forced her to look at him.
"You don't talk about your father. You don't talk about anyone. When you're on your knees, you belong to me. Understand?"
She stared at him. Her lip was trembling. But something else flickered in her eyes ā something that looked almost like relief.
"Understand?" he repeated, his voice harder.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Good girl." He wiped the blood from her lip with his thumb. "Now open your mouth."
She opened. He slid back inside, and she took him without a sound, her eyes never leaving his. A low, submissive moan vibrated around his cock as she began to move, her tongue working him with a new intensity.
---
That night, after he'd sent her home, he sat in his kitchen and stared at his hands.
He'd never hit a woman before. He'd never wanted to. But when she'd said those words ā my father fucks me harder than this ā something had snapped. Not at her. At the thought of her father. At the thought of all the men who had failed her, used her, abandoned her.
He was one of them now. He'd joined their ranks.
The thought should have bothered him more than it did.
---
The fourth week, he drove her home after a session, and she didn't get out of the car immediately.
She sat in the passenger seat, her hands in her lap, her body still loose and warm from his touch.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Ask."
"Why do you keep your mother's photograph on your shelf? She's dying. Doesn't it hurt to look at her?"
He was quiet for a moment. "It hurts more not to."
She nodded slowly. Then she reached over and put her hand on his. Just for a second. Then she pulled away, got out of the car, and walked inside without looking back.
He watched her go, and something in his chest shifted.
---
The fifth week, he fucked her in the car.
It was late. They were parked in the garage of the Anna mansion, the engine off, the windows fogged. She was straddling him in the driver's seat, his cock buried inside her, her small breasts pressed against his chest.
She was riding him ā slowly, deliberately, her hips rolling in a rhythm she'd learned from him. Her head was thrown back, her throat exposed, her breath coming in soft gasps that built into moans. Her voice echoed in the enclosed space, bouncing off the windows.
"You're going to cum," he said. "And then you're going home to your empty house, and you're going to think about me."
"I always think about you," she said, and the words sounded surprised, as if she hadn't meant to say them. Her moans quickened, her rhythm breaking.
He grabbed her hips, drove up into her hard, and came with a groan. She followed a moment later, her body clenching around him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her moan was long and loud, filling the car, fogging the windows further.
She stayed on top of him, her forehead resting against his, their breath mingling in the dark.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered.
He didn't answer. He didn't know how.
---
The sixth week, he fucked her in her own house.
It was the first time he'd been inside the mansion since the night he'd abducted her. She led him through the darkened hallways, past rooms full of art he couldn't name, up a staircase that curved like a spine.
Her bedroom was enormous ā a king-sized bed with white linens, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a walk-in closet the size of his entire apartment.
She stood in the center of the room, looking small and lost among all that luxury.
"I've never brought anyone here," she said. "You're the first."
"Does that scare you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He crossed the room, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. She melted into him, her body soft and yielding, her mouth open and hungry. A soft moan escaped her as his tongue found hers.
He fucked her on the king-sized bed, her legs wrapped around his waist, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. Her moans were different here ā louder, freer, unafraid of who might hear. She cried out with each thrust, her voice filling the vast room. He came inside her, and she held him there, her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips against his ear.
Kim Dahyun stepped through the front door of her family home, the exhaustion from the world tour melting away as the familiar scent of her childhood wrapped around her. At 24, she was the radiant center of Twice, but here, she was just Dahyunāeager for a quiet night in her own space. Her birthday loomed in a few days, but she had no idea about the surprise her father had meticulously prepared in her room upstairs. Balloons floated silently against the ceiling, a cake sat hidden in the mini-fridge he'd installed just for this, and soft lights twinkled from strings he'd draped across the walls. He wanted it perfect for his little girl, a celebration of her return and her special day.
Dahyun kicked off her shoes in the hallway, her tight black dress clinging to her slender frame like a second skin. The fabric hugged her small breasts, accentuating the gentle curve of her hips, and rode up just enough to tease the smooth skin of her thighs. Tour life had been non-stopāperformances, interviews, the constant eyes on herābut now, alone at last, a familiar heat stirred low in her belly. She padded up the stairs, her bare feet silent on the carpet, humming a melody from their latest setlist.
Her father, Mr. Kim, had heard the door click open from his spot in the adjacent study. He'd finished the setup earlier that afternoon, heart swelling with pride for his daughter. Slipping into the shadows of her walk-in closet, door cracked just enough, he waited to spring the surprise when she entered. But as Dahyun pushed open her bedroom door, the room's festive glow caught her eye. She paused, a smile tugging at her lips, but the weight of the tour's pent-up desires hit her harder than expected. The bed looked so inviting, sheets fresh and crisp, and without a second thought, she crossed to it, letting the door swing mostly shut behind her.
Dahyun sank onto the edge of the mattress, her tight dress bunching up around her waist as she leaned back on her elbows. The surprise decorations flickered softly, but her mind wandered elsewhereāto the thrill of the stage, the anonymous fantasies that had kept her up on those long bus rides. Her hand trailed down her neck, fingers brushing over the thin strap of her dress before dipping lower. She tugged the neckline down, exposing one pert breast, her nipple hardening instantly in the cool air. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pinched it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it firmly.
From his hiding spot, her father froze, breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected thisānot his sweet Dahyun, so bold and unfiltered in her own sanctuary. The closet door offered a perfect, unobstructed view through the slight gap, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. She was beautiful, his daughter, her pale skin glowing under the string lights, the tight dress now a rumpled invitation around her hips.
Emboldened by solitude, Dahyun spread her legs wider, the dress hiking up to reveal her black lace panties. She hooked her fingers into the waistband and slid them down her thighs, kicking them aside with a flick of her foot. Her pussy was already slick, lips puffy and pink from the building ache. She traced a finger along her slit, gathering the wetness there, then brought it to her mouth, sucking it clean with a quiet moan. The taste of herself fueled the fire, and she delved back in, circling her clit with deliberate strokes.
Her father's cock twitched in his pants, straining against the fabric as he watched her hips buck slightly off the bed. He knew he should reveal himself, shout surprise and shatter the moment, but the sight held him captive. Dahyun's free hand kneaded her exposed breast, twisting the nipple harder now, while her other hand plunged two fingers inside her tight pussy, pumping them in and out with wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room.
Dahyun's breaths came faster, her head falling back against the pillows, blonde hair splaying out like a halo. 'Fuck,' she whispered to the empty room, her voice husky from disuse. She added a third finger, stretching herself, imagining it was something thicker, someone filling her completely. Her thumb pressed down on her clit, rubbing in tight circles as her walls clenched around her fingers. Juices coated her hand, dripping onto the sheets below.
Hidden, her father palmed his erection through his jeans, guilt warring with the raw lust surging through him. She'd grown into such a womanāconfident, sensual, her body arching in pleasure he never dreamed he'd witness. He bit his lip to stay silent, eyes locked on the way her pussy lips parted around her thrusting fingers, her moans growing louder, more desperate.
Dahyun's pace quickened, her thighs trembling as she chased release. She pinched her nipple sharply, the sting sending sparks straight to her core. 'Yes... oh god, yes,' she gasped, fingers curling inside to hit that sensitive spot. Her orgasm built like a wave, crashing over her suddenlyāher pussy spasming, gushing a little as she cried out, body shuddering on the bed. She rode it out, fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out every aftershock until she slumped, spent and glowing.
In the closet, her father stifled a groan, his own release soaking his underwear as he came untouched, the taboo thrill overwhelming him. Dahyun lay there catching her breath, oblivious, a satisfied smile on her face amid the birthday surprises waiting to be unveiled. The night was young, and secrets lingered in the air.
Thereās a message in a bottle, and it has your name on it. You could probably open it if you tried. You werenāt the one that hid it, all you did was find it.
Now, you could break it. Burn it. Get rid of the whole thing altogether. But you canāt bring yourself to read it.
For now, you just leave it where it is.
ā
Early June, and summer is off to a head start. The sun is beating down on you relentlessly. Chaeryeong doesnāt seem to notice, skipping ahead like the earth isnāt turning fast enough for her.
āCan you slow down? Itās way too hot for you to be this energetic right now,ā you call out in a failed attempt to keep her near you.
āAbsolutely not. Can you speed up, instead?ā she retorts, and you canāt blame her. Turning twenty-one and no longer having to sneak around to get drunk is a big milestone, after all. Nothing past your first sip the day you celebrated your birthday made it into the permanent memory bank.
Go figure sheās brimming with the same kind of anticipation, the kind that makes her shine. Blonde hair swaying in the wind like rays of the sun itself as she turns to look at you with mock anger. You. The one who promised to treat her to a drink of choice, after all.
āIf I die of heatstroke, I canāt buy you anything,ā you grunt.Ā
āI could just take your wallet off of your body if you die.ā
Sheās always been like this. Sharp, faster and more deadly with a comeback than you could ever beāwhen sheās paying attention. Relentless in her teasing, and most certainly one of those weirdos that has ragebaiting as their lovelanguage.
By the time you reach the liquor store, youāre drenched in sweat. But thatās just you. Chaeryeongāunlike youālooks pristine, like sheās made out of porcelain, like sweating is below her, but still chooses to wrap her arms around one of yours like she doesnāt care about any of those observations, sheās just happy to usher you inside.
āSo, what are we looking for?ā you ask as you browse the seemingly endless shelves. Chaeryeong is scanning each shelf, her pace significantly slower, like sheās in no rush to decide. A joke is begging to burst out of you, but you keep it locked up, lest you speed up her process and waste precious, air-controlled minutes inside.
She hums as her eyes scan up and down, thinking it over until she brings you up to speed. āIunno,ā is all she gives, though.
āWhat do you mean, you donāt know?ā you ask, kind of incredulously.
āI donāt know. What? Canāt a girl pick her first drink based on vibes?ā she asks back.
āI donāt know. I guess? I knew what I wanted my first drink to be long before I got to it.ā
She stops walking, holding you in place with her as she turns her gaze away from the endless bottles towards you. āReally? What did you get, again?ā
āWhiskey,ā you answer with a misguided sense of pride, like itās supposed to be a cool answer. āYou know, like, a real manās drink.ā
She just stares at you, one corner of her lip curling upwards into a smirk, and she doesnāt need to waste any words on mocking you.
āI just figured I would find a nice bottle of something screaming at me,ā she teases, poking you in the side with a finger, the rest of her hand still wrapped around your arm. āAnd if itās expensive, thatās your problem.ā
āYour plan is to let the bottle choose you?ā you question, again.
āWorked out fine with you.ā
That gets you. A chuckle escapes you, and she looks up at you, proud of herself. Worst part is that sheās completely right. She gave you shit for weeks for how long you waited to ask her out.
āBrat,ā you sigh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She adjusts the black bow tied into her hair like sheās checking to see if you didnāt boorishly ruin her pristine sense of style, shrugs her shoulders when sheās satisfied with its current fit and smiles up at you. The intent is all too clear. She gracefully accepts your admission of defeat.
Finding something that suits Chaeryeong's taste might prove impossible. Sheās got high standards for her likes to clear. Nothing really seemed to strike a chord with her, that is, until you reached the wine department.
Itās just north of a hundred dollars, a lot more expensive than the cheap forty dollar whiskey you celebrated your coming of age ceremony with, but that thought gets shoved down the moment you see the joy on her face.
āIt suits you,ā you say as you take the bottle in your hands.Ā
āYou think?ā she questions back, and you just nod to answer.
Bottle in one hand, her hand in the other, you head towards the register, making good on your promise. A fine bottle of champagne for an even finer girl. She kisses you on the cheek the moment the cashier hands you back the bottle.
Three years have you had it like this. Three years since she vanished from your lifeāand, as far as you can tell, hers as well.Ā
Three years since youāve worked together on turning that bottle from full to empty.Ā
Looking at it makes the taste linger on your tongue.
ā
"It's so fucking good," Chaeryeong practically moans. "It tastes like the world's most expensive cherry is making love to fizzy grapes on a bed of flowers, somehow?"
The shade of her favorite red lipstick paints the edge of her paper cupācourtesy of the room and wildly unfit for the quality of the drinkāand she hands it to you. Thereās still some champagne left at the bottom. You press your lips to the edge, already tasting a small hint of cherry from where Chaeryeongās lips left a stain, and finally take a sip.
The fizz tickles your nose, teasing floral notes, a sharp contrast to your first drink, which could only be described as sandpaper fucking mudwater on a bed of burnt wood.
āWell?ā she asks, tilting her head. Sheās already claimed the center of the bed, lounging back on her elbows with a light grace that makes the room feel classier than it has any right to. āDid I pick the perfect drink or what?ā
āItās alright,ā you lie, obviously, even though youāre already making a mental note to buy this exact bottle for every future celebration. You take another sip, finishing the paper cup, crinkle it in your fist and throw it in the trash can.
āLiar,ā she chirps, kicking out a leg. Her foot, encased in a soft, ivory-colored wool thigh-high sock, pokes you right in the chest. āYou canāt try to act nonchalant while also going for a second sip.ā
You catch her ankle, the fabric soft and surprisingly warm against your palm. You don't let go. She doesnāt want you to, either. Itās obvious in the way her pupils are as big as theyāre allowed to be, unwaveringly fixated on you. Every inch your hand slides up her leg causes another twitch in her calves.
She knows exactly what sheās doing. She's known ever since she wore this exact pair for the first time and you both lost your virginities. She wore these specifically because she fucking knows they turn your brain into mush, that seeing the little stretch of skin on her thigh between where the sock ends and her miniskirt begins makes you simply obsessed.
āYouāre doing this on purpose,ā you mutter without making eye contact, gaze fixed at her legs. Throw her a smirk, and pull her closer to the edge of the bed.
Sheās won, celebrating her birthday with all the right beats. She hooks one of those wool-clad legs over your shoulder, the texture dragging against your neck, pulling you closer into her, into the mattress she reigns over.
āYouāre so pathetic when Iām wearing these,ā she whispers. Her tongue pushes through her lips, wets them, and leaves her mouth just slightly agape long enough for you to nearly close the distance. Those cherry covered lips should be on you, but instead they continue to taunt. āI wore them in a heatwave just toāā she huffs, smiling when your grip tightens, āāsee you look at me like this. Like a dog waiting for permission to eat.ā
āYouāre a brat, you know that?ā you growl, but youāre already leaning in, your hands sliding up the back of those socks to the soft, squeezed skin of her upper thighs. āA horny, attention-seeking brat.ā
āIām your princess,ā she corrects, her eyes beaming with contradictory hunger. She reaches down, her fingers brushing against your knuckles before she pushes your hands away so she can take over. āAnd princesses get what they want. Right now, I want to see how much of a mess Iāve made you.ā
A sly smile plays on your lips as you slide her leg off of your shoulder, and steal the bottle of champagne out of her other hand, taking control of the pace.
āNot so fast, princess. Iāve paid for three hours off this room, we can take our time,ā you retort in a competitive growl. She watches you with wide, surprised eyes as you take a long, deliberate swig, letting fruits dance on your tongue. Swallowing would be a waste now.
No. You reach out and snag the black bow in her hair alongside some of her silken strands, and grab a nice fistful.
With a firm tug on it, just enough to jerk her head back, you force her gaze off of your straining bulge and onto your face. Her mouth falls open inĀ a small gasp of shock, corners of her lips going up into a defiant smile. The distance between you two melts away with reverent intention until you press your lips against hers. You let the sparkling liquid seep into her mouth, sweet and fizzy flooding her mouth and catching her off-guard.
She scrambles for purchase on your shoulders, tongue mixing with yours as she takes all you can give, letting out a muffled and desperate sound as she swallows the mouthful youāve gifted her.
āIām going to cry if you donāt take your pants off soon,ā she moans as drops of champagne that you couldnāt quite get into her mouth spill down her chin. No time is wasted licking them up from collarbone to jaw. āIām making you buy a new bottle and doing this every birthday I have from now on.ā
That earns her a muffled laugh against her skin.
āEvery birthday?ā
āEvery single one,ā she answers without a drop of hesitation. āEven yours.ā
ā
Thereās an empty bottle that still faintly smells of cherry, grapes and spring flowers.
Itās also the last bottle you bought her.
The note inside is still there. Itās impossible not to think about, and what it has to say, why it has your name on it.
If you open it, the memory of that June afternoon finally breaks. The memory of the wool against your skin and the cherry on your tongue will have to face whatever reality she wrote down.
For now, you just leave it where it is. Because as long as the bottle is sealed, sheās still in that love hotel room, smiling up at you, waiting for her next drink.
Despite all that, you still had to learn how to live without her.
Youāre not good at it.Ā
Not when youāre losing her over and over again. See, the thing about a person vanishing from your life without an explanationāor, in your case, an explanation you donāt think you can deal withāis that itās not a one time thing.
Sure, you lost Chaeryeong the morning she didnāt come back to your place. Then, you lost her again the first time you saw a funny video and wanted to share it with her. Again when you found a strand of her dyed blonde hair on your winter coat.
Youāve been constantly losing her in small increments. Three years of small losses, compounding interest, your mind begging you to keep her memory intact.
Itās not as oppressive during the day. Itās the nights that are the most silent. It makes sense, those were your favorite times as a couple. You still canāt bring yourself to sit in her spot on the couch.
So, nights require distractions now. Hobbies that donāt stick, endless scrolling of short-form content to beat your brain to death with, midnight snack and alcohol runs.
Tonight isnāt one of the worst nights. Tonight is just a Tuesday in late May, and you need milk for your coffee tomorrow morning, and the only convenience store still open is a 7-Eleven on a forty minute walk away. The distance doesnāt bother you, it fills time that way. Earbuds in, a nice long walk, and check out a undoubtedly similar store to all of their other locations, but it keeps you occupied all the same.
Meditation, you call it. Obsession is what your friends call it. The way you spend every moment youāre not occupied thinking about what youād say to her. Itās all painted on the inside of your skull, flashing before you the moment you close your eyes.
The way you wouldnāt give an inch. Ask her to explain herself. The way youād hold yourself when you asked it, having practiced the exact beats for āwhere did you goā and ādid it ever occur to you how I felt.ā
But most importantly, you practiced not letting her know that all she had to do was ask and youād forgive her like nothing happened.
Youāre so lost in it again you almost miss her entirely.
Sheās crouched at the bottom shelf of the snack aisle, picking out different cans of pringles, examining them and putting them back one by one. Her hair is black now, shielding her line of sight from you. Her lips peek through, a similar shade of midnight, not something youāve ever seen her entertain.
You have about ten seconds to walk away and she would never know. You stand there, three years of questions disappearing in the span of two seconds.
She shifts her weight, the hem of her coat rides up, and you see the nail in your coffin.
Black lace. Same strip of skin at the top of her thigh. A floral pattern engraved. Three years clearly not enough to erase a decade of habits.
āYou trying to find a snack thatās just screaming at you?ā
She freezes.
Her head turns slowly, eyes finally meeting yours, trembling in place like sheās seen a ghost.
āOh,ā she breathes. Her fingers clench and then unclench around the canned snack. āItāsāhi.ā
āHey,ā you respond, arms now crossed. Just like that, three years of questions, righteous anger and rehearsed confrontations evaporate into stale air.
āI didn'tā" she starts, then stops to fidget with the hem of her coat. Itās a nervous habit of hers, once sheās had since she was little. You instantly pick up on it like youād stumbled over a tripwire youād laid for yourself years ago.Ā āYou shop here now?ā
āNo, I donāt,ā you respond curtly. She canāt meet your eyes when you say it. āBut the one we used to shop at is being renovated. And I needed some milk for my coffee tomorrow morning.ā
She nods, gaze flickering between your face and the floor. āThat makes sense.ā
None of this makes sense if you think about it. Has she always been here? Just out of reach, less than an hour walking from your normal life? Justāwhat? Living her life without you?
It only raises more questions you never rehearsed. Also stretches a silence between you, filled only with the humming of refrigerators and flickering of fluorescent lights. All you manage to do is blurt out something mundane.
āYou stopped dyeing your hair.ā
Her hand reflexively touches the ends off her hair draped over her shoulder. āYeah. Do you, ehm, you like it?ā
Any color Chaeryeong has ever had has instantly become your favorite color, only occasionally dethroned by the shade of her lipstick. Telling her was never a problem when you were still intertwined, but what if this is just temporary? A stroke of misfortune for her, a blip on the radar, and all youād accomplish was making her uncomfortable.
āYeah,ā is most you can start with. āI like it.ā
The black color of her lips contrasting against her pale skin helps you spot the faintest of smiles, disappearing as fast as it came.
She shifts her weight around and looks down at the can in her hand like sheās forgotten why sheās even picked it up. It couldnāt be more clear, whatever brought her here tonight did not account for seeing you again.
You both go through the motions, asking how youāve been, and you lie that youāve been good. Maybe her āIām doing okay,ā the truth, maybe it's a lie, and both would sting just the same. Where youāre working now, if you still live in the same place, and how nothing has changed and youāre practically been frozen in time since she left.
Itās not the same for her, obviously. She looks like you could never have even begun to imagine her.
She shifts again, her coat follows the movement, and you just canāt help but catch another glimpse of those fucking black lace stockings. Some things never change. Stop yourself from wondering why that detail hasnāt. If you do, you might get a lump in your throat so big no more words could come out.
Thankfully, she breaks the mold. āUm,ā she starts, then stops. Takes a breath, and her shoulders stiffen up. āCan I ask you something stupid?ā
āSure,ā you answer, impossibly bracing yourself.
āDo you remember that champagne bottle we shared on my birthday?ā
Of course you remember. The champagne bottle with a message in it. But sheās not asking about the message, the note.Ā
She takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes properly for the first time, brow knitted together. āI was just wondering if you still had it. I liked the way it tasted.ā
āIām not sure,ā you lie. āMaybe? I could check when Iām home.ā
Thereās something you canāt quite make out playing across her face, not with everything new about it. Is it relief? Disappointment? Itās gone before she nods again.
āNo, thatās okay. You donāt have to go through the trouble,ā she assures you.
You nod. There isn't much else you know to do.
āYeah,ā you say, even though thereās nothing to agree with. āIf you say so.ā
The silence that follows is different this time. Itās about as obvious as the void in your chest when you look at her. Thereās no awkwardness or sensitivity to it. Itās merely there to kill a story.
She swaps the can from one hand to the other, forcing her focus to change, to do anything to not drown. āI should probably, yāknow,ā she gestures the can towards the register. āPay for this.ā
āRight,ā you answer. āYeah.ā
You stand there frozen, unmoving, freezing her with you.
For a second, itās almost like one of you is supposed to say something else. Like youāre missing the pop-up for another dialogue option, like thereās a version of this reunion that ends with you and her in each other's arms but you just canāt see the bridge that connects the now to that.
And it fades, gone as soon as it arrives, draining through your fingers like water.
She nods to herself, more than to you, and steps around you. Not too close. Not too far either. Just, around you.
Her scent gets trapped in your nose.
Itās hard to snap out of the scene, and you linger longer than you can respect yourself for. Just staring at the spot she just was now isnāt, before reluctantly moving on to what you came for.
Milk.
Stupid fucking milk, that you just grab any carton of, whichever comes first, and just rush with towards the register in the most delusional hope of catching up to her.
By the time you reach the register, sheās already left the store.
Itās when you step outside she surprises you again.
Chaeryeong hasnāt left.Ā
Sheās standing just past the automatic doors, under a particularly strong lamp, scanning the horizon. She looks at you the moment the doors hiss shut.
āFound your milk?ā she asks, squeezing together her lips.
āYep,ā you blurt out without much thought spent on what to say next. She fills in the void pretty quickly.
āWhich way are you headed?ā
āSame as always.ā
She nods slowly. Clicks her tongue, her eyes dart up and down, hoping you figure something out without having to spell it out for you. She speaks when you donāt.
āItās really late,ā she says, and the tone of her voice is the same one she used when she really wanted you to get up from the couch and go grab her a snack.
āIs your new place far from here?ā you ask, and you pray you donāt come off as a creep.
āItās not super far,ā she answers in the same tone.
You sigh. āWill you make it home safe?ā
āIād feel safer if you walked me.ā
You agree like youāve always agreed to anything Chaeryeong asked of you. Old habits dying hard, or maybe itās you forcing them alive despite the weathering of time. Itās all the same in the end, a simple excuse to talk some more to her.
āWhich way are we headed?ā you ask.Ā
She tilts her head left, and you fall in beside her.
For the first couple of hundred meters, nobody says anything that made it into your practiced conversations. It used to be so easy and comfortable to be in silence together, and now it feels like youāre both asking permission for just that. Some light conversation does happen. Chaeryeong asks if youāre still working the same job, which you are. You ask the same, which she obviously isnāt, youād have found her. She works in childcare now, and you tell her it suits her.
It takes a while for the first thing you can latch on to surfaces. Chaeryeong asking if you still have the same phone number. She asks it carefully too, like sheās bracing herself for a lie from you.
āYeah,ā is all you say.
She slows down half a step, grabbing her phone from her coat pocket. She fiddles with it, and you feel your phone buzz as she stashes her away again.
āNow you have mine,ā she smiles, and skips once or twice to catch up to you.
You donāt grab your phone to read what she sent, trusting itās not as important as just making sure you have her number. Youād rather be here, on this street, in this fragile thing, hoping she tells you she made a mistake and wants you back.
She notices. Itās obvious in the way she looks at the pocket youāve kept your phone in since you were fifteen for a second longer than necessary, and then back at the road ahead. Thereās no figuring out Chaeryeong when she has an idea or what that entailed, but it was never a secret from you whenever she had one.
Thatās when the conversation starts to move. It almost tricks you, moving the way it used to, simple thoughts flowing from one into another.
But itās not the same.
It flows the way a river flows when a natural catastrophe has changed the lay of the land, quietly rerouting, touching different banks.
You can feel yourself swim against the current, trying to close the distance with a reference only she would getāsomething about how sheād totally zone out any time you started talking about your dayāand she smiles, she gets it, she even picks it up and runs with it for a sentence or two. But then it trails off. Lands somewhere just shy of where it would have, three years ago. Where she would have grabbed your arm, leaned into you, kept teasing you until you were so annoyed youād stop her from talking by kissing her.
Instead, she just smiles, and looks ahead.
You do the same.
Her phone lights up in her hand. She glances at it briefly, types something without breaking stride, and pockets it again. You notice. You donāt say anything about it. Itās the second time since you left the store.
By the time you turn onto her street, youāve both made peace with the gaps. Or youāve both agreed, silently, to pretend you have.
The building she stops in front of is narrow and clean, a row of small potted plants lined up outside the entrance like she had a hand in that. Itās nice to believe she did.
She stops, turns to face you. Pulls her coat tighter. Her eyes shine , but itās soft and careful, like sheās been working up to what sheās about to say a few times over.
āIām glad I ran into you,ā she says, and you believe her. Thatās not the problem. āAnd Iāā a small pause, āāI hope we can talk again sometime. If you want.ā
If you want.
The words land somewhere low in your chest and turn upside down.
Three years of losing her in pieces, of practicing what youād say, of sitting on the side of the couch that was always yours because you couldnāt bring yourself to take hers, of carrying a bottle you canāt open because opening it means itās real. She has the audacity to stand here, putting it in your hands. Like it was ever up to you. Like you were the one who needed convincing.
āIf I want,ā you repeat, and you hear the edge in your own voice before youāve decided to put it there.
She blinks, takes a step back. āI didnātāā
āNo, I justāā you interrupt. Stop to collect your thoughts, resurface the script youāve practiced over and over. Start again. āI just donāt think thatās fair of you to say. Not after everything.ā
She doesnāt move. Her expression has gone still in the way it does only when she doesnāt know what to say, and you know sheās not going to fight you on it, which somehow makes it worse.
Already stepping back, already putting distance between you and the bottom step and her face, which is doing something complicated that you canāt afford to look at for very long before your lungs are ready to work again. āIām glad youāre okay. I am.ā You shake your head. āIām not.ā
You donāt wait for her to respond. Thereās a final āGoodnightā you throw out hastily after you turn, walking away, and the night air hits you cold and immediate and you donāt look back. Your hands find your pockets. Everything blurs, your feet keeping your pace even, controlled, the same way youāve controlled everything since she left, and you keep walking.
You donāt stop. Not until youāre back in your building, up your stairs, through your door and in your bedroom.
Sheās on your mind until exhaustion finally lets you drift away.
ā
Itās the morning after seeing Chaeryeong for the first time in three years. Youāve got three messages on your phone. Chaeryeong sent them to you.
All from yesterday evening.
The first: āi hope you dont mind me having kept your number lolā
Itās unfair to open with that, as if her having kept your number isnāt cause for celebration, to open a fancy bottle of champagne. You save her to your contacts and leave the bottle closed for now.
The second, sent maybe ten minutes after the first: āthanks for walking me home btw, im not usually out this late and it makes me feel a lot more at ease to have you hereā
You stare at the screen. The time gap between the second and final message proves the last one is from just after you stormed off yesterday. It reads as follows: āim not good at this. i understand if you dont reply to thisā
Eventually, the screen dims. You put the phone down on your chest and look at the ceiling for a while. From where you're lying you can see the bottle on the shelf where you keep it. Black and pink, the ribbons etched into the glass catching the flat morning light. The note still inside it, rolled tight, a different kind of taunting aura now. It holds your gaze for a long time. Then you look back at your phone.
There's a version of you that opens the bottle today. That finally breaks the seal and reads whatever she couldn't say to your face and lets that be the thing that decides it.Ā
You pick up your phone instead. Stare at the messages she sent you. Sit with the blank text field for a moment, write a couple of words that donāt feel right, delete them, stare at that stupid fucking bottle again and almost put your phone away. Thereās a million questions you want to ask her, but thereās no point in even pondering them if you canāt even ask the simplest question first.
āCan I see you?ā
You put the phone face-down on the mattress and go make coffee, because you need something to do with your hands, something to distract you from checking your phone every two seconds to see if she answered.Ā
Youāve barely picked out a cup when your phone rings.
ānow?ā
Itās conveniently inconvenient. The timing alone is enough to spike your heartbeat for the rest of the morning. A response thatās way too fast for someone thatās supposed to be a closed door, so fucking fast that you realize you wonāt be able to put your phone down the moment you figure out how to respond.
Because thereās an even more annoying question being asked back to you now. What the fuck does she mean? Just that, no further context, infuriatingly drives you to consider two totally opposite possibilities, two divergent interpretations.
But thatās the trick of it. It doesnāt matter. Itās been three years. It is that urgent. A second without her or at least a resolution longer is one too many. So you just take a chance on it being the second choice, and fire back.
āWhenever you canā
You send another text almost instantly, correcting yourself.
āNow, actually, if thats not too weirdāĀ
You hover over the send button, delete āif thats not too weirdā and just send the first part.
She doesnāt take much longer to respond. Says sheāll be over in an hour, if thatās not too weird. You instantly respond to her, letting her know it isnāt.
What follows is not an hour of pacing, not an hour of relaxed waiting, casually preparing. No. Itās an hour of the worst kind of anticipation, with every minute making your heart beat faster like it still could accelerate, driving your anxiety to a point it makes you feel like youāre going to shit all your organs out on the floor and die there.
See, running into her unexpectedly is one thing, but doing the inverseāmeeting with her at an agreed upon timeāis far worse.Ā
Itās an hour of cleaning everything in your apartmentāor at least the part you expect to host her and her apology. Any sign that could give away a hint that you are not in control has to be eliminated. All of the conversations you planned start flowing again, and you try to force them away knowing damn well none of them will matter the moment she shows up at your door.
You buzz her in almost exactly an hour after her last text.
Yesterdayās black was not an accident. Sheās still all winged liner, smoky eyes and inky black lipstick. Your eyes zip down once and spot the same poison as yesterday. A single strip of skin, with a floral pattern slightly further down. You donāt ask. You canāt manage much more than a āhiā anyways.
You let her in.
She knows your place blind. Like a cat who just returned from her evening stroll, she walks straight to the couch and sits, knees together to the side and feet half tucked under her, hand clutching her phone. Itās far too familiar how she sinks in.
Before any of the conversational explosions that have their fuses lit in your chest come out, you make your way to the kitchen, pouring both of you coffee. You speak loudly, letting her know that you happen to have some milk, if she still takes her coffee the same way she used to, which she lets you know she does.
You pour your own and join her, but on the opposite end of the couch. You fit into the memory better there, after all. Now that sheās here, you donāt even know where to start, or how to even explain without sounding desperate why you invited her over.
She puts her cup down, turns to you and says, āI want to apologize again for last night. I wasāIām really bad at this. I didnāt mean to make you feel like shit.ā
You donāt turn. āI donāt think Iāve ever heard you apologize to me before.ā Take another sip of your coffee, then put it down. āThe sound of it is just all wrong.ā
She blinks. āIām sorry?ā
āYeah, no, please stop,ā you say, your whole face tightening with cringe. āItās like hearing a cat bark or something.ā
āShut up?ā she responds just a bit too much like she used too.
āChaeryeong.ā
āEw?ā she responds in instant and total disgust.
āWhat do you mean, āewā?ā
āDonāt say my name like that.ā
āLike what? Chaeryeong?ā You turn to face her properly for the first time since you sat down.
āPlease fucking stop,ā she says, recoiling and scrunching her nose as if you just mentioned hating puppies. āItās horrible.ā
āIām literally just saying your name.ā
āI know, and itās horrible, and I hate it.ā She shifts on the couch, pulling her knees tighter to her body. āYou never used to say my name. I literally think the last time I heard you say my name, we might have been like, I donāt know, eleven years old?ā
āChaeryeong,ā you say with a smirk.
āIām going to punch you.ā
āFor saying your name?ā
āYes! You used to call me princess.ā She physically winces at the sound replaying in her head. āHearing you say my name just makes it sound like youāre so upset with me.ā
You face her head on with a smile you canāt seem to stuff down. āI am upset with you!ā
āI already tried to apologize!ā
āIām upset because of you apologizing, idiot.ā
āYou know what, actually? Call me an idiot. Thatās much better. I prefer it over you saying my name.ā
You stare at her for a long moment.
āYouāre actually an idiot,ā you say, flatly, because some things never change.
āThank you.ā
You shake your head, pivot back toward the conversation before it escapes you entirely. āMy point isāyou donāt apologize to me. Thatās not a thing you do. You apologized to your dance instructor for being late when your subway literally broke down. You apologize to delivery guys when theyāre late becauseāā you raise your fingers to form air quotes. āItās not their fault we live so far away.ā
She tries to stop you, but you raise your finger like youāre scolding her and continue: āYouāve apologized to your mom for weed Chaeyeon hid in a cookie jar. Iāve watched you do it. Youāve never smoked in your life.ā You gesture vaguely in her direction. āYou apologize to everyone. Everyone except me. Orāā you catch yourself, measured, āāat least, never with words.ā
A beat passes. Then she laughs. Not the polite kind, not the deflective kind sheās been deploying since yesterday like a smoke screen. The real one. The one that starts low and tips forward and makes her press a hand over her mouth when it gets too loud, the one that used to make you feel like youād won something.
āIāll make you a deal,ā she says, riding out the coattail of her chuckle, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. āI wonāt apologize for yesterday if you tell me why you really invited me over. Clearly, it wasnāt to hear me say sorry.ā
You take a long sip of your coffee. āI wanted to talk.ā
āYou wanted to talk,ā she repeats, flat.
āCatch up.ā
āCatch up.ā
She watches you, waiting, eyes taunting you to start ācatching upā. You set your cup down on the coffee table, link your hands together, and decide to just walk straight into it.
āYeah, catch up,ā you start carefully. āLike, for example, ask you questions likeāā you pause, roll your eyes trying to think of an easy transition into the barrage youāve prepare, āāever since we broke upāā
āWait,ā she interrupts you, holding up a hand and furrowing her brow with theatrical precision. āWe broke up?ā
All you can do is stare. Blankly. Itās so utterly tactless, shot straight from the hip and missing its mark by a mile.
āIām just saying,ā she continues, utterly oblivious to how unable you are to laugh this joke away, āI donāt remember a breakup conversation happening. Technically.ā
āChaeryeong.ā
āThere it is again,ā she mutters, scrunching her nose.
āYou disappeared,ā you say, and the word lands heavier than you intend it to. āFor three years. Thatās the conversation.ā
āIām sorry,ā she scrunches her mouth, and looks away. āAnd you said my name just now so weāre even for me apologizing.ā
You exhale through your nose, letting out a single chuckle in hopes of preserving some of the earlier momentum. āIdiot.ā You look back at her, and she can feel it, turning to meet your gaze. āAs I was saying, ever since we broke up, have you been seeing anyone?ā
Itās not the first question you wanted to ask. It mostly just slipped out, some kind of honest response to her eyes connecting with yours. Itās the question youāre stuck with now, forced to to face whatever answer she gives.
She tilts her head, wiggles her toes. āHave you?ā
You should have known she would never answer before you. āYouāre unbelievable,ā you say as you tilt your head towards the ceiling, hands dragging down your face.
āItās payback. I deserve an answer first,ā she says simply, and before you can even question itābecause she knows you willāshe already continues, ābecause you called me an idiot.ā
A big sigh escapes your lungs. Thereās no point in arguing with her. At this point, the only outcomes are nobody answering, or you answering first, so you do. āNo,ā you say. āI havenāt been seeing anyone.ā
Her gaze burns on the side of your face like it always has when sheās going to ask you a barrage of questions you canāt avoid. You resist turning towards it.
āNo one?ā she asks.
āNo one.ā
A short pause. āNot even like, a one night thing? Someone you met at a bar, charmed your way into her pants and then never have to talk to her again?ā
āWhat? No.ā
āDidnāt pay anyone?ā She says it carefully, measuring it. āLike, even just forāā
āNo.ā You say it before she can finish. āNo.ā
āNot even a kiss? Holding hands?ā
You finally turn back to her. āNot even that. Not once. Nothing.ā
She sits with that for a moment. The apartment is very still around you. You fear to move, lest the couch makes a sound and ruins this fragile moment you donāt know what to do with.
āDonāt you miss it?ā she asks, and her voice has lost the teasing edge. Itās just a question now, plain and without judgement.
And the thing is, the word āitā is doing a tremendous amount of heavy lifting. She might be asking about the abstract concept of physical intimacy or the general act of human contact.
But you canāt help but be hit by a flood of āitsā. Itās the wool against your palm. Itās the cherry on your tongue. Itās a black bow coming loose in your fist and sifting through your fingers like sand only for strands of blonde to remain. Itās legs hooked over your shoulder like an anchor you never got tired of keeping steady. Itās the wiggle of toes anytime anything exciting happened. Itās countless nights spent whispering that you still think sheās the prettiest girl in the world.
You miss it the way youād miss breathing.
You donāt say any of that.
You donāt say anything for long enough that the silence becomes its own kind of answer.
She watches you. Then, softly, she offers you an exit: āYou probably donāt miss having a girlfriend that never apologizes, right?ā
Itās a joke. Itās meant to be a joke. Sheās giving you the out, the laugh, the reset.
The bad ending.
āI miss all of it,ā you say, and it comes out with so little air, quiet and meek. Like something youāve been keeping in a locked room for three years that just walked out on its own while you were still figuring out if it could stand.
She goes very still in response.
Not the kind of stillness sheād couple with contorted faces to buy her more time to think of something clever. A kind youād never seen before. One that starts in her eyes and slowly creeps all over her body.
You catch yourself staring at her, but itās impossible to stop. She blinks onceāno, twiceāand then shifts, chuckles, breaks the silence.
āAll of it,ā she repeats, hollow. Like sheās not allowing herself to taste the words. She shakes her head, looks down at her cup and smiles softly. āIām sure you could go without a lot of it.ā
Thatās when you see it. Clear as day, eyes wide open. The next hour, the next week, the next three years. The whole thing passing you by like the trail of a bullet that barely missed.
It goes like this: You donāt say anything meaningful to respond. She doesnāt dare push. You try one more safe attempt to reach out, and it doesnāt connect, the conversation swerving to something safer, more mundane, decidedly not dangerous. Youāll finish your coffee first, and sheāll check the time on her phone and say something along the lines of her needing to get going. Youāll walk her to the door, and sheāll say it was really good to see you, and sheāll mean it, and youāll mean it back, and sheāll leave, and youāll close the door, and youāll stand in your kitchen for a while staring at her cup before eventually deciding to wash it, and youāll sit on the couch wondering what the message inside the bottle is and not opening it, and nothing will have changed. The weeks pass. Maybe she texts, maybe you do, and it wonāt matter who does, because all it will be is something simple and dismissible, a meme she thinks youād like or a check-in when a song on the radio reminds you of her.
But the door between then and now stays shut, and the time between texts grows, and youāre losing her again like you did over the past years except this time you watch it happen and choose it anyways because the bridge looked too burned to cross.
And thatās the current trajectory of the reality youāre allowing to come to pass.
So you reject reality.
You close the distance.
Itās not graceful. Itās fucking desperate, moving too fast, the cushion shifting under you, and she turns at the movement, shifts back slightly but doesnāt move further than that, holds her breath with her mouth open, clutches her hand into a fist and you blink andā
You stop.
A centimeter. Maybe less.
Thatās the full distance left between your faces the second the bottleāengraved on the inside of your eyelidsāfreezes you in place. What if her answer was no, and still is no?
āWhy did you stop?ā
You look down. You canāt look her in the eyes, because frankly, thereās not an answer you can give her after boldly lunging at her only to stop right before impact. Your eyes land where they always do. The strip of skin left untouched, like a line stopped before completion to make sure you know she still can stop wherever she wants. The floral pattern woven with near equal artistry to the squish of her thigh where the hem of the sock bites into her skin.
āWhy are you wearing those?ā you ask.
Sheās quiet for a moment. Long enough for you to let your eyes find hers.
āBecause you like them,ā she says.
You close the distance, and your lips find hers.
It lands a little off-center, your nose bumping hers, and she makes a small sound of surprise that dissolves almost immediately. Itās compounded interest all paid back at once, your hand finding the side of her face and her hand finding the front of your shirt, and the taste of her is coffee now instead of champagne but the mechanics of it are so familiar.
You pull back just far enough to look at her. Her eyes are still closed for half a second longer than yours, and when they open theyāre darker than usual, a little undone, intently focused on you. The black lipstick has migrated, a small smear at the corner of her mouth, and you have the absurd, overwhelming urge to fix it and ruin it further at the same time.
Her other hand comes up and finds your jaw, thumb tracing the edge of it, the same way she used to when she was in a particular mood, a quietly possessive habit sheād never have admitted to.
āAre you sure about this?ā Her thumb has stopped moving. Her voice quieter, barely audible over your own heartbeat.
You look at her, and she doesnāt look at you.
āI was gone for so long,ā she continues, and she tucks some hair behind her ear, then fixes it immediately. āI donāt want you to regretāā
āYouāre here now.ā
Itās unbelievably trite, and the Chaeryeong you knew would have wasted no time at all giving you shit for it, but itās also completely, undeniably true and that makes the instant lack of response that much scarier.
She blinks, her surprise barely masked before she bursts into a laugh thatās mostly exhale, then leans in so her forehead rests against yours. āThatās genuinely the corniest thing you have ever said to me, and I still remember the poem you wrote for me in high school.ā
āThank god,ā you respond with an embarrassed smile, āI was worried that I might have had another Chaeryeong in my home if you didnāt make fun of me for that.ā
āI had to, no matter how sweet it was,ā she whispers, and before you can feel any more stupid about it sheās swinging a leg over you and settling into your lap in one fluid motion, and then her lips part and so do yours again. Her mouth is on yours, open and needy, tongueās clashing unlike the first one and beneath the coffee there isāabsurdlyāthe faintest taste of cherry coating her.
How dare she.
You level the playing field. Hands finding her hips, planting themselves there, keeping a firm grip on her, and you can feel the way she melts into it, her spine relaxing as she sinks slightly forward. She shifts again when your hands slide up. Her waist first, then onto her ribs, accompanied by the small jump of muscle she always has when you graze a particularly sensitive spot just beneath her ribcage, your thumb pressing into flesh.
Thereās a fast rise and fall to it, and you let it linger, stopping there, causing her to look down at you after breaking the kiss, hair falling over her face.
āYou stopped again.ā
āLook,ā you say, and it starts deadly serious. āThereās a lot we havenāt talked about yet. I know thatālike, itās bad,ā you stop, and she pulls back ever so slightly, her hands drifting. āAnd, I want to talk. I do.ā You stop to breathe. She holds her breath.
āBut right now, I just reallyāreally want to fuck you.ā She exhales, and you donāt stop. āLike, desperately. Thatās kind of where Iām at.ā
She looks weirdly relieved at that. Then she smiles, her eyes narrowing but staying focused on you.
āI donāt mind not talking right now,ā she says. āIāve been thinking about not talking ever since you lunged at me the first time. So.ā
"You sound pent up."
She doesnāt bother denying it. Instead, she turns, shifts her whole weight around in your lap like she's decided its time for you to drown in troubled watersāalthough theyāre only thigh-highāand settles her back against your chest. Your arms close around her, and her head tilts back over your shoulder so sheās looking up at you from below, her eyes looking even more dark and enticing with the long line of her throat exposed.
She grinds her hips into you, your hands dig into her skin, and she exhales into your neck.
"You also feel pent up," you say.
"I havenāt fucked in three years," she says simply, finally answering your earlier question youāve already long exposed yourself to. You tighten around her waist, slightly squeeze the air out of her, and pull her as close as she can possibly be. "Keep that in mind, because I am going to beā" she pauses, eyes hooded and looking up at youā"sensitive. Everywhere. I will probably cum embarrassingly quickly."
Her head tilts, and her mouth finds your neck. She speaks into your flesh. "Thatās not a warning, by the way."
She lightly nibbles on your skin, teeth teasing but never with any pressure.
"No?" you ask.
She settles back against you. Completely at ease.
"I'm bragging."
You move your hands carefully around all the safe spots. It might be you savoring the moment, or maybe youāre just asking permission. Either way, she can tell, and after a moment slides her hands over yours.
āYou can touch whatever you want,ā she says, and then her hands are moving yours, guiding them up and under the hem of her top. āI wonāt stop you.ā
She looks forward again. Shifts, making herself easier to reach, accommodating in a way that feels almost pointed. Sheās exactly the same as you remember, which is to say, still a perfect handful, her hands resting atop yours, perfectly cooperative.
"You're being very good about this," you say.
"I know," she says with a smirk, like you havenāt yet figured out the price youāre going to pay for this. A soft moan escapes her as you find her nipples still fit perfectly in between your digits. "I'm very well behaved when I want to be."
"And when you want to be isā"
"Right now," she says. "Obviously." Her fingers press down lightly over yours, guiding without urgency. "You should take advantage of that."
āYouāre just making excuses. I think youāre just being needy for my fingers to curl inside of you.ā
She doesnāt dignify that with a verbal response just yet. Instead, her fingers interlace with yours, dragging the combination downwards. Off her ribs, past the soft give of her stomach, lower still, until the hem of her skirt glides under your fingertips, not stopping until she lets your palms rest on that strip of skin right between the hem of her socks and theāif the sensation of lace against your thumb is correctāsame material panties.
She presses your hands down, makes sure you feel how much they still mold to your grip.
āOkay,ā she says with a smile, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. āSo what if I am needy?ā
She spreads her legs a little, her hands letting go off yours. Her right arm wraps around and her hand finds an anchor point on the back of your neck, keeping her steady as she slides ever so slightly down. Her left hand bunches up the damp fabric of her underwear to the side.
āSo what?ā you chuckle once with disbelief. āI told you I wanted to properly fuck you, not just give you princess treatment in my lap,ā you correct her, and push your hips forward once, letting her feel what her provocations have done to you. Thereās no way she can miss it, the way your cock is straining against her ass, pressing up into her.
She grinds back, riding the pressure, exposing your own sensitivity. āYou think I couldnāt tell how hard you already are?ā She rolls her hips again, slower, more precise, like sheās making a promise for later.
āI know what you want,ā she says. āI want that too, especially if you keep calling me princess.ā
āI didnāt call youāā
āBut Iāve imagined your hands on me again and again and again,ā she continues. āEvery time I closed my eyes.ā Her hips shift. āYesterday, too. You crossed your arms and I justāā She moans. She fucking moans, right in your ear. āI came so fucking hard, thinking of them on everywhere. My waist. My throat.ā Her left hand finds yours again, slides it up until you can feel her pussy press against your palm. āHere.ā
Sheās absolutely soaked.
āChaeryeong.ā
āDonāt say my name like that,ā she protests, whiny, and bites your neck in retribution.
āOkay, princess,ā you smirk and sheās already shaking. Two of your fingers push in, slow, your palm pressed against her clit and her precious little spine curves, her lower back getting pushed away. Her hands hang on tight, like they need the stability.
āFuck I missedāā she pushes through an inhale, a small moan follows out, and after an exhale she manages to say the rest. āAll of that.ā
"You can have this one," you say, unhurried. "You're going to remind me how much after Iām done with you."
Sheās writhing in your lap now, hands clutching your flesh and youāre sure sheās going to leave a mark, pulling your head to hers so she can bite your lip between words. āI told youāā she pants, and you want to tell her to go ahead, but she beats you to itāshudders, legs kicking out, and clamps around your fingers so tight you think youāll never get them back.
āEmbarrassingly fast.ā
You keep going. Not nice, not considerate, not gentle. You want every ounce of her, want her to lose herself, and the more you work her, the more she gives.
Her spine curves further, impossibly. Sheās so small against you like this, tucked in and shaking, and you push both fingers fully in her and she jolts, her breathing going shallow, bitemarks being made in your neck, your thighs getting battered by her heels.
āTell me when,ā you say quietly.
āWhen,ā she says immediately, and you waste no time using the base of your palm to press down on her above her cunt, fingers trying to curl back into your hand inside of her, holding her through her tremors. You can feel it in your own chest, your ribs quaking like a second heartbeat overlapping yours. She looks beautiful. She always did, but itās easy to miss this; the way she falls apart fully, the way she whimpers your name, the way she smiles after like a radiant goddess.
Her orgasm mellows out eventually, and sheās breathing hard, lifeless limbs hanging against you, and you keep her steady. Let her come down at her pace. You let fingers glide out slowly, slipping free, and she mewls involuntarily, whimpers something pathetic about the loss of your touch.
She lays there, slumped into you, and youāre staring at her lips.
Not just because sheās smiling, or theyāre black, or that their hue is clearly infinite with how perfectly coated the still are despite the many traces sheās left on your body. No, youāre just staring because sheās got you so worked up that youāre lost in the memory of her lips wrapped around your cock, back when her lipstick was a shade of red or nude, and those never left any marks.
āYouāre staring,ā she says, hopelessly out of breath.
āJust thinking that I like the color.ā
āI doubt thatās the full extent of it.ā There is no chance Chaeryeong lets you off the hook. āYouāre staring at my mouth like you want to fuck it.ā
Nobody could ever come close to knowing you like she does. Call it a side-effect of growing up together. Thereās no point in denying it. Itās harder to find a way to confirm her observation without feeling like youād waste the chance, but apparently staring at her does the trick.
āYou want your dick in my mouth so bad youāre not even pretending to listen to me.ā Her hand draws tiny circles on your wrist, limp fingers brushing skin lightly.
āIām listening, Iām just visualizing all the ways I can appreciate your lipstick. Itās a beautiful shade,ā you say, eyes drifting towards the ceiling in mock consideration.
she lifts your hand by the wrist to kiss your knuckles, the slightest stain of black remaining on you. āYou want to see what it looks like on your cock?ā she asks and you look down at the disgusting sincerity she brings it with.
āCan I?ā
āSure,ā she muses. āYou can mark your territory, or whatever. I donāt mind.ā
She doesnāt let you consider it. Thatās the thing with Chaeryeong. Thereās no pleasing her if sheās not teasing you. She needs you to know that itās her choice when she slides down out of your lap, onto the floor, splitting your legs and staying there, head tipping back at the edge of the couch to look at you as she delivers the sucker punch.
āSeems like you need it.ā
You chuckle wryly, bend over forwards and plant a kiss on her forehead. "I hope you know I'm not stopping until there's a black ring around the base of my cock."
āGood.ā She smirks. You stand up, walking around the coffee table, savoring the moment. āIād prefer you doing all the work right now.ā
āYouāre really going to just sit there and let me fuck your mouth?ā you tease back, stopping to loom over her.
āAre you complaining?ā she pouts, flutters her eyelashes. āItās not my fault you fingered the fine motor controls right out of me.ā
You put your hands on your hips, cock your head and bend slightly forwards, over her. āStill a brat, huh?ā
āYep!ā she responds, gleefully, proud with a smile, tilting her head. āWhich means that this offer expires soon. Whip out your cock youāve been harassing my ass with, or Iām keeping my mouth shut until Iāve cummed on your face.ā
It canāt be overstated how fast you switch up and wrestle with your belt, trying to maintain a facade of composure. āI thought you were supposed to be a princess?ā
She opens her eyes, shrugs, and drifts her eyes towards your belt. āPrincesses have to eat.ā She lets her head hang back, opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. Itās like sheās asking you to lose control.
Your cock is out before either of you even process it, stiff and aching, veins bulging like never before, as if ready to explode.
āJesus,ā she says with reverence bordering on worship, no intent of hiding her awe, āI forgot how hot your dick is.ā She stays perfectly still, leaning back against the couch, hands slack next to her on the carpet, the very picture of defiance and submission contradicting herself with minimal effort. āI might actually cum just from choking on it.ā
āI forgot how much you talk,ā you reply, and admittedly, its a bit snarky. But you know Chaeryeong, and that gambling with a line like this always has a payout.
āThen make me shut up.ā
You answer by pressing your cock to her lips, pale pink to her beckoning black. She opens, wide and compliant, her tongue flat and eager, and you glide in. Itās impossible to play this cool, not with her on the floor and your pulse ticking in your ears, not when the black of her lipstick makes her mouth look like a void designed to swallow you whole.
The first pass into her is slow. Her lips slip easily over your cockhead, soft and cold on her lips and then suddenly impossible warm inside. You steady yourself with a hand on the couch cushion behind her, fully leaning over her and sheādespite years of proving to you she couldnāt let a single opportunity to take control over you go unchallengedājust lays there, letting you push at your pace. Sheās making sure her lips are pressed to the full circumference of your cock, every inch of skin covered, spare the sides she just canāt help but skipācourtesy of the smile pulling the corners of her mouth up.
āYou look so fucking good with my dick in your mouth,ā you groan, making sure to put extra emphasis on how possessive you sound. Her eyes do a slow half-blink, satisfied.
You hold her there, cock halfway buried in her, hips already shaking, and pull out slowly. You want to watch the lipstick smear, the drag of her color a tangible scar tracing your shaft. Her eyes squint as she figures out what youāre doing, lips sucking tighter around you, and she hollows out her cheeks.
The black sticks, two perfect half-moons adorning your cockās top- and underside, stretching in different intensities across your shaft.
āGood fucking girl,ā you hiss, twitch in her mouth, and her eyes close, her eyebrows getting that little wrinkle in pleasure. Itās hard to know whether thatās from the praise, the sight of you losing it or both. And normally, youād find pleasure in the current state of affairs. Itād be enough, feeling your cock halfway down her throat and seeing her enjoying herself.
But right now, thereās a combination of something you canāt deny and a reckless streak that allows you to explore it. She doesnāt gag. Not yet, at least, but you want to see if you can make her; you want to see how much sheāll let you take, how far youāre allowed to conquer.
So, deeper you push; past the first point of resistance, past the point where she looks up at you with eyes that are looking for something carrying tears in the corner, past her limp hands choosing to grip the fibers of the carpet instead. Itās all too much, sheās right there with you, neither of you able to think straight each time you slide back into her mouth, fucking her face like you need it to survive, Chaeryeong totally passive and not resisting.
Not helping, just letting you help yourself.
āYou can take it, right, babygirl?ā you ask, but you donāt care to let her answer. She tries to, though, bobbing her head ever so slightly, letting out a throaty, gurgling sound about as close to a yes as she can manage.
You bottom out, cock fully enveloped by her tight throat, tears running black down her cheeks, and she takes it with a focus thatās almost meditative, eyes drooped and drunk on your pleasure, drowning together with you in desperation.
And thatās when you feel it, the heat in your core, the jolt up your spine, the embarrassing and traitorous tingle of only managing one pump deep down her mouth before you too succumb to your sensitivity. You try to slow, try to savor just a couple seconds more, and she looks up at you like sheās asking if sheās doing something wrong and her throat contracts as if to push you out despite her head staying perfectly still, consciously fighting the subconscious to hold herself open for you.
How could you not comfort her, give in to what you both want by rutting into her face?
Itās inevitable at this point, and when the first shock of it hits you, you try to pull away, try to get ready to paint her face white and see how it mixes, but she holds you, moves for the first time since hitting the floor and dives deeper, nose pressed against your stomach, hands flying up to grip the back of your thighs, swallowing the first spurt like sheās starving.
āYou fuckingāā you grunt, hands finding the back of her head and tangling her hair into a fist, āslut!ā
You yank her off forcibly, she gasps and you hold her there. Sheās got this look in her eyes like sheās won a prize off of you, easily wiped out when the second rope of cum hits her in the cheek, across her lips, then down her collarbone and finally a weak spurt dripping out of your cock onto the squish of her thighs, perfect white streaks against her tear-shed mascara, smudged lipstick and porcelain skin.
āGood to know you still cum like a firehose,ā she says, accompanied with a smirk, unbothered by the mess.
āYou always knew how to bring out the worst in me.ā
She pushes you down into the couch. Turns around with her stomach against the couch cushion and drapes her arms over your legs, cheek resting against your thigh. āThe worst of you tastes pretty good,ā she muses, licks her lips, and brings a hand to your cock. āYou want me to clean you up?ā
You can barely breathe, so a nod must suffice.
She leans in, laps at the slit of your cockhead, down the shaft for any stray drops, then her own wrist, her thumb, and finally the gooey mess she scooped onto her hands from her thighs. The rest of her face stays as is, wearing your cum like jewelry.
āMmmh, like, so fucking good,ā she moans, excessively.
āThereās something wrong with you,ā you shoot back, and it lands in her chest, a laugh joining her.
āDid you miss that too?ā she teases. She climbs up, into your lap again and burrows her nose into the crevice between your neck and your shoulder.
āAll of it,ā you reaffirm with a long exhale, reality dawning back on you now that the heat of the fuck-fever subsides.
She stays that way for a while, snuggling closer to you, silently just making herself small on top of you.
āHey,ā you whisper, fingers twirling with strands of her hair, soft strokes matching her breathing. āYouāre getting cum all over my shirt.ā
āDonāt care.ā
Itās kind of cruel. Not what she says, no, thatās just Chaeryeong like you know her. Itās how it reminds you of the Chaeryeong you donāt know. And it shouldnāt bother you, not with the world outside collapsed into a void and her wrecked against you and the warmth you both share. It should be enough.
But thereās a message in a bottle, and it undeniably has your name on it. Or she wouldnāt have asked yesterday. And you could try to ignore it, and just throw it away when sheās not looking and act like you know no better and you never find out why she left and let it eat at you every single day and let it ruin your fuckingā
āAre you going to tell me why you left?ā you ask, stopping the idle patterns you were tracing on her thigh, going dead still.
She freezes too.
āDid you read the message I left?ā she asks, voice thin.
āThe one in the bottle?ā
āI knew you were lying,ā she answers, with only half a smile. She gets up from your lap, turns your back towards you and starts walking towards your bathroom. āGive me a minute. Iām not having this conversation with cum on my face.ā
You donāt try to stop her. You just wait for her, find your pants and get somewhat dressed again, settling back into the couch when you hear the faucet stop running and the door open again.
She emerges eventually, her skin wiped clean, any trace of the revelation you just shot onto her face removed. She sits down, next to you instead of on top of you, a little further tucked into the corner than before.
āSo? Did you read it?ā she asks again, staring blankly ahead, undecipherable.
You stop looking at her. Sigh, rub your eyes. āNo.ā
āWhy not?ā she follows up, her voice breaking a little. Itās hard to stop yourself from derailing the conversation.
You think about lying, and then about the consequences of instantly being caught lying, because Chaeryeong could always tell and the truth comes out easier than you expected it to anyways. āI wasnāt sure if I could still believe youād ever return if I read it,ā you say, shaking your head. āI donāt think I could handle that.ā
You turn slightly towards her.
She nods. Pulls her knees up to her torso, and rests her cheek on them, turning towards you. āCan it stay that way?ā
Itās the kind of question that needs time to think about. What exactly is the question asking, what is the full context, what happens if āitā does not stay āthatā way?
When the silence stretches past a point she can bear, she starts to retreat.
āYou know what, never mind,ā she crumbles. āThatās an insane thing to ask, obviously it canāt,ā she rambles, unfolding like sheās about to give up, obvious in the fake smile youāve managed to see through ever since first learning about it. She unfolds slightly like sheās about to bolt for the doorāthe nuclear option. āYou can read it, obviously youād want toāā
āCan you just chill the fuck out for a moment?ā you intervene. You grab her wrist. Itās cliche, but youād rather be cliche and hold her here now then let her walk out.
She stops.
āWhat happens if I read it?ā You look at her, grip unwavering.
She canāt meet your gaze. She tries, but she canāt. She just mumbles a couple of words. āIāll probably cry again.ā
Itās a simple reason, one that doesnāt really let you know anything specific, but when it comes to Chaeryeong, do you really need more to listen to her?
āWhy?ā
Her eyes manage to reach yours. āI donāt want you to see that version of me,ā she answers. āBecause once you do, thatās all Iām afraid youāll see.ā
The room is very still around you. You swallow the questions coming up in your throat, the parts of you that want to pry anyway, and allow the truth to stay in her chest for now.
She trembles in your wrist, you sigh and release your grip. She doesnāt move away.
āIām not asking you to justālet it go forever,ā she says, hands clutched to her chest. āI just need it to come from me. Not who I was. When Iām ready, if you can wait for me.ā
A single laughābreathy and pushed through your noseāescapes you, and itās almost a cosmic joke. If you can wait for her. You look at her, this idiot of a woman you've been losing in small increments for three years, who showed up in a convenience store at midnight and walked back into your life like she'd only stepped out for a moment, who is sitting here trembling with her hands clutched to her chest asking if you can wait for her like she genuinely doesn't know the answer.
āIdiot.ā
She looks genuinely staggered by this. āWhat?ā
āI have kept the one thing that could give me closure on you locked away for three yearsāmaybe would have been locked away until the day I fucking died if you hadnāt shown upāonly to be able to hope that I could see you again one day,ā you ramble, voice growing as you stand up and face her.
She blinks, searching across your face, something fragile inside of her breaking.
This could be temporary. A mistake, a pattern that might repeat itself, a karmic miscalculation that will cause you to be locked in an endless repeating chase of losing and finding and losing and finding her again. Thereās a real chance hurt is waiting on the other side of the door, and thereās no way of knowing until you figure out why she even left in the first place.
But that doesnāt matter. Itās worth it, for the moments where Chaeryeong fits into your arms, however fleeting or forever.
āWhat makes you think I canāt wait for you to be ready to tell me, you idiot?ā
She looks at you like sheās experiencing every possible emotion all at once with just a slight tinge of disbelief heavier in the mix, eyebrows pinching together upwards.
A laugh gets stifled by her, then resurfaces louder, and she lovingly calls you an asshole. Then, as if genuinely blindsided by it, her eyes fill and stray tears slowly fall down her face, blinking like she canāt quite account for where they came from, hands scurrying to her cheeks to wipe them away with yet another laugh and even more shocked āWhat the fuck?ā
You let it all happen. The laughing, the crying, the attempts to get it under control. She succeeds, eventually. Mostly succeeds. Thereās still evidence of it in both the corners of her eyes as well as the corners of her lips, and when she finally looks back up at you, she looks slightly mortified and slightly luminous, entirely a wreck.
āDonāt you dare,ā she says, her eyebrows furrowed at you and her head tilting downwards mockingly.
āExcuse me?ā
āYou did this.ā
āI did?ā
She drops her hands. Looks at you with wet eyes and the most unguarded expression you've ever seen on her face in twenty something years of knowing her.
One of your hands wraps around her waist, the other grabs her hand. You close the distance. Not urgent, not desperate, nothing like when three years came crashing down at once. Just your hands finding her, and you kissing her slowly. Like you have the time for it now. She doesnāt let you pull back the first time you try, just pushing further into your space.
When you eventually do end up separate, the first couple of minutes is just spent staring into each other's eyes, even as you move back to sitting on the couch, her making her comfortable in your lap for a third time.
She bites back a laugh and speaks first: āOkay, so, since weāre already just saying embarrassing shit,ā she says, stops, bites her bottom lip with a full smile and her eyes filled with the same joy. āI have a confession to make.ā
āOkay?ā you say, hesitantly. This could go anywhere.
āI actually could have arrived here like half an hour earlier.ā She stops to twist her mouth, eyes flickering everywhere and back at you rapidly. āBut when you asked to see me, I went home first. I literally changed outfits because I thought it'd be smart to wear these.ā She flexes her thighs, places her hands on them, drawing your full focus to the fabric taut on her pale thighs. āI didnāt think jeans would be of much assistance.ā
You choke out a laugh. āYou were already out and went back home just to change for me?ā
āI saw the way you looked at me yesterday,ā she retorts, but her fingers find your chin and pull you back to her mouth before you can comment.
She nips your lower lip, laugh muffled. āYouād be less assertive if I wore jeans, is what Iām saying. Probably wouldnāt find the courage to fuck my face like you did.ā
You consider the counterfactual. Thereās no universe where you donāt want her, but the comparison of both images in your head, side by side, has you inclined to agree.
āYou might be on to something,ā you agree with a slight smirk.
āThank god I still have what it takes to make you pathetic,ā she preens, twisting her shoulders to show off. āIn factāā she tugs at your shirt, pulling you in until you are close enough to count her lashes, āI think we should see exactly how much these new socks help you lose composure.ā
You try to kiss her, but she stops you with one finger. Instead, she stands up, not bothering to fix her skirt thatās been riding up. āIām going to your bedroom,ā she says, walking around the coffee table swaying her hips, knowing damn well where youād look. āIām going to take off everything except these socks. You can join me after youāve cleaned up here.ā She stops right before stepping into the hallway, looks over at you and speaks a final time: āDonāt make me start by myself, because I will.ā
Thereās no point to bothering with the facade of taking your time or doing this of your own volition. You sweep the half-empty coffee cups, pick up your phone, trash some scattered napkins and try your best to remove any already dried up cum that made it onto your furniture.
You realize it, then. This is just part of her play. The game. You are never, ever more adored by her than when sheās dangling a reward in front of you and watching to see how fast you shower her in attention for it.
Itās intoxicating.
You make your way to your bedroom door as fast as you possibly can, leaving a trail of stripped off clothing behind, your underwear last to fall. Everything must go, because youāre not the main character in her script unless youāre showing up naked and a little bit desperate.
You swing open the door, and the room is painted in the diffused sunlight of early afternoon, a lazy brightness youāve never really been around for, not until it snuck in here to illuminate her.
Sheās sat against the headrest of your bed, propped up by a pillow, naked except for what she promised to keep on. Reapplied black lipstick and a black choker thrown in as a bonus. One hand between her legs, you can see it barely through the gap in her shins, idly teasing herself, the other hand cupping her tits and rolling them slowly. Sheās playing with herself, her pride and your arousal all at the same time.
āWow,ā she says, in that deadpan, smug way of hers, ānot even going to let me undress you, huh? That eager to rail me?ā
Itās not long before you are on top of her, wrists in one hand and cunt cupped in the other. āYouāre going to help me get what I want,ā you say, and she looks smug, way too smug for someone with slick running down her thighs staining your bed.
She curves her spine at your touch. You drift your hands down to the hollow of her knees, soft mesh squeezing under your grip, and you press up until sheās almost folded in half, thighās pressed to her chest.
Youāve got her in checkmate, a press to match it and properly breed her, and you slide in so frictionless that you almost forget youāve both spent years molding yourselves to each other.
With a single measure thrust, you bury yourself fully in her, pushing her further up the bed, and her head rocks back into the pillow with a thunk. She curses, which turns immediately into a moan.
You can feel her thighs-socked and shakingāthe rough texture digging into the sides of your chest.
Thereās nothing gentle about your rhythm. Itās desperate, same as her sounds. The bed creaks to complete the symphony. Her tits bounce with every thrust, black-painted nails holding and digging into them, doing the job you canāt as you hold your steady above and next to her head.
She tries to say something, but it comes out as a punched-out āfuckā!ā that loses coherence as soon as you bottom out again. You donāt bother pretending like your sounds are any better.
She breaks firstāstill embarrassingly sensitiveāhands flying to your shoulders, nails digging in and pressing half moons into your skin, her voice cracking as she begs for more, for harder, for anything you can still give her. āPlease,ā she whimpers pathetically, āInsideāā and you realize sheās asking for something she never has before.
āYeah? Inside?ā you taunt back through your own nearing doom.
āMmmhm,ā she nods, giving up on words entirely.
āWant me to fill you up, princess?ā you continue, smacking into her harder, surely bruising something. All she can do is throw her head back and look at you like sheās hoping youāve somehow learned how to read minds. āIām going to make you walk around full of me for the rest of the day.ā
She almost sobs as she cums, a sudden and sharp gasp accompanies her whole body shaking; the vibrations and the begging for you to finish with her causing you to chase her through it, losing your own composure, your strength, your vision.
You collapse on top of her, she lets her legs wrap across your waist, holding onto you as you ride out the aftershocks. Sweat sticks together, and once you think youāve found the strength to roll off and pull out, she tightens her legs around you, keeping you in place.
āDonāt move,ā she whispers against the shell of your ear, a hand playing with the hair on your head. āStay inside me until youāre hard again so you can fuck another load into me.ā
You donāt talk about much except the feeling of your cock going soft inside her, the smell of her perfume, the lack of proper interior decoration youāve done in the time she was gone, and then the feeling of your cock slowly stiffening up inside her again.
She rolls her hips when she feels it, speeding the process along. āI want lots of kissing this time,ā she clarifies. Itās a simple order. Itās so soft, and normal, and mundane you donāt realize nobody has even said it until after youād let it slip.
āI love you, princess.ā
Her head falls back into the pillow, she bites her fingertip, and smiles like she was waiting for that.
āI love you, too,ā she hums, kisses you with lots of tongue, and rocks her hips into you to make sure youāre as connected as physics would allow.
Itās hard not to oblige, taking her breath away as you restart with a softer pace.
ā
Thereās a message in a bottle, and it has your name on it. Itās gone largely ignored for a week now. Youāve made plans with Chaeryeong to throw it outāor at least, just the message insideātoday.
Sheās been with you every day for the past week, effortlessly slotting back into your life, and you into her new one. The make-up stays dark most days of the week, but some days she lets you see her in red.
A lot of time has been spent on making up for any of it youāve lost, though. Itās impossible to keep your hands off of each other.
One day, she wakes you up with your cock in her mouth, hoping to have a slow morning, only to find out you canāt skip work and ends up being so frustrated for the rest of the day that she canāt stop herself from spending her entire lunch break in a disgusting bathroom sending you videos of herself dripping, making sure you know youāre expected to get even.
On another day, she texts you that sheās got her nails done, and asks if you want to see only to send a video of her playing with her pussy from the back. You showed her you still have the handcuffs she bought you that evening.
All she cares about is making sure you still are infatuated with her.
Hard to deny, considering the events. So, today, you text her the moment you leave work to let her know youāre on your way. If all is well, sheāll have taken care of things.
Sheās already waiting for you when you get home to your little lover's nest. Sheās got her hands behind her back, holding something.
As soon as you step inside, she plants a kiss on your cheek, and reveals her little secret.
Thereās a present in her hands, with your name on it.
āI wrapped it in a way I thought youād like,ā she says. Green, with blue ribbons on it, shaped like a bottle.
You take it from her hands and start unwrapping itārevealing a bottle of whiskey you told her about.
She stays quiet while you read the label, connecting the dots, and then she tucks herself under your arm, her favorite spot. She always did prefer watching you discover things she already knew youād love, and says: āI found it screaming at me.ā
There is a kind of silence in this house that isn't peace; itās a waiting game. A dense, almost liquid silence that clings to my skin like dirty oil every time he is in the same room. I am in the kitchen right now, pretending to be interested in the cup of tea Iām holding between my hands, but my fingers are trembling just enough for the water to ripple on the surface. It isn't cold; itās that static electricity running down the back of my neck every time I feel Mr. Parkās presence behind me.
I can feel him. I donāt need to turn around to know exactly where he is standing. I can smell him: that scent of sandalwood and cold tobacco that, a long time ago, seemed elegant, but now provokes a visceral nauseaāa knot in my throat that prevents me from swallowing. My body has its own memory, a treacherous memory that reacts before my mind can process the danger. I feel the hairs on my arms stand up and a slow shiver descend my spine, sliding down like a drop of ice until it anchors itself at the base of my pelvis.
"You seem distracted today, Chaeyeon," his voice reaches me as a low purr, a vibration that seems to cut through the air and hit me directly in my pores.
I feel a violent lurch in my chest; my heart begins to hammer against my ribs with a dull forceāa bum-bum... bum-bum that echoes in my ears and drowns out any other sound. I grip the cup tighter, feeling the heat of the porcelain, but the warmth is insufficient to fight the cold invading my feet. I donāt dare look at him. I know that if I do, Iāll find those dark eyes scanning my body, stripping me layer by layer, searching for any trace of the weakness he himself planted in me.
Suddenly, I feel his hand on my shoulder. It is a light touch, almost accidental, but to me, itās as if a red-hot brand touched my skin. The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my blouse causes my nipples to harden instantly, projecting themselves with a painful tension against the clothes. I hate my body for this; I hate that it reacts with this nervous, suffocating arousal toward the man who has turned me into his toy. I feel dirty, as if there were an invisible stain spreading from my chest to my assāa mark of ownership that only he can see.
He leans in a bit more, just enough for the heat of his breath to brush the curve of my ear. He says nothing else, but that silence is the cruelest tool of all. It is a reminder of everything we keep quiet, of the nightly agreements and the humiliation I accept day after day so that the rest of the world keeps believing I am the perfect daughter.
"What are you thinking about, dear?" he whispers, and his voice vibrates on my skin like a forbidden caress.
I close my eyes tight. In that instant, the sound of the kitchen vanishes. The scent of tea merges with the rancid smell of that hotel, and the warm afternoon light is replaced by the suffocating dimness of a memory I cannot erase. I feel the floor disappear beneath my feet and find myself sucked backward, back to the exact moment where my life fractured.
I feel the wetness on my thighs again, the pressure of strange bodies against mine, and that electric fear that paralyzed me for the first time. I go back to the beginning. Back to the first time I understood that my body no longer belonged to me, but was instead the price of a secret that was consuming me alive.
The cold early-morning air hit my face as soon as I closed the taxi door, but it wasn't enough to put out the fire I still felt beneath my skin. I walked toward the entrance of the house feeling like an intruder in my own life, my steps clumsy and my breathing heavy. I felt dirty; I smelled of tobacco, other people's perfumes, and that raw, animal scent of shared sex that seemed to have leaked into my pores. But as I moved through the dark hallway, an electric and treacherous sensation began to run down my spine, making me trembleānot from fear, but from a residual desire that felt suffocating.
I entered the house in silence, avoiding any noise that might alert my mother or my stepfather. But the silence only served to amplify what was happening inside my body. Every time I took a step, I felt the rub of my thighs and the friction of the clothes against my skin, and that simple contact was like an electric shock.
My tits were hypersensitive, almost painful. My nipples were so erect and tense that every time the fabric of my blouse brushed the tips, I let out a short, muffled gasp. It was an unbearable sensation: I hated myself for having sold my body, but at the same time, the memory of those hands squeezing my tits hard, molding them to their whim while I moaned, made a liquid heat begin to flow down my belly. I felt like a hypocrite; I told myself I was disgusted, but my body kept vibrating on the frequency of pleasure.
I reached my room and closed the door with my heart hammering against my ribs: bum-bum... bum-bum. I leaned against the cold wood and closed my eyes, and that was when the image of the threesome returned with violent clarity. I remembered the weight of the bodies on top of me, the feeling of being open and exposed, and the way my ass felt right now: hot, throbbing with a dull heaviness that reminded me I had been possessed without mercy. I could still feel the viscous trail between my legs, that residual wetness that made me feel marked, as if the seal of those men were still stuck to my pussy.
I put my hand in my pocket and touched the bills. The paper money was dry and cold, but touching it sent a wave of forbidden excitement through my entire body. It was the adrenaline of risk, the euphoria of having done something so degrading and having been paid for it. I felt dirty, yes, but it was a dirtiness that ignited my nerves.
I let myself slide down the door until I was sitting on the floor, legs open and breathing erratic. I brought a hand to my neck, touching the skin where someone had left a wet, strong kiss. Touching that mark, I let out a moan that echoed in the empty walls of my room. God, it was so disgusting to think that I had become an object, but at the same time, the idea of being desired with such voracityāof being the center of that carnal chaosāproduced an electric shock that left me breathless.
I stayed there in the dim light, fighting against myself. I hated the submission, but I loved the feeling of power that came from knowing I could seduce and charge for it. My body was a battlefield where disgust and lust fought violently. As I stared at the dark ceiling, I felt my pussy pulsing with a dull urgency, claiming more of what had just happened. I was broken, I was stained, but I was more alive and aroused than ever in my life.
I didn't know that this same arousal, this secret hunger for the forbidden, would be the leash Mr. Park would use to drag me into the abyss. In that moment, I could only feel the heat of my own legs and the echo of the moans still resonating in my head like a sinful song.
The following days were a slow and delicious torture. I moved through the house like a ghost, inhabiting a body that still felt electric. Every morning, the act of dressing was a ritual of self-torture; I slid garments over my skin and felt how the fabric rubbed against my tits, which remained sensitive, almost inflamed, from the games of the trio. Sometimes I would stare at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror, observing the curve of my ass and wondering if anyone else could see the invisible mark that act had left on me. I felt powerful, charged with a forbidden energy that made my steps slower, my hips heavier, while I kept the stack of bills like an amulet of filth under my mattress.
But then, the atmosphere of the house began to change. The air became dense, almost viscous, and I started to feel that I was no longer alone in my secret.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when I felt the first prick of reality. I was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, when I heard Mr. Park's footsteps approaching. It wasn't the usual walk of a stepfather; it was a paused, deliberate rhythmāthe step of someone who knows exactly where his prey is. I froze, glass half-full, feeling the back of my neck prickle violently.
"You smell different today, Chaeyeon," his voice arrived as a glacial whisper right behind my ear.
The impact was physical. I felt an electric shock shoot down my spine and end in an involuntary spasm between my legs. I turned slowly, heart hammering against my ribs: bum-bum... bum-bum. He was inches away from me, leaning against the counter, looking at me with dark eyes that didn't see the "good girl," but instead scanned my body with an obscene slowness. His pupils were dilated, fixed on the movement of my throat as I swallowed with difficulty.
"What do you mean?" I managed to articulate, though my voice sounded broken, a thread of sound that betrayed my panic.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he moved one millimeter closer, invading my personal space until I could smell the sandalwood and cold tobacco mixing with my own scent. He cast a fleeting glance downward, toward my tits which were rising and falling agitatedly under the blouse, and then returned to my eyes with a smile that didn't reach his pupils.
"You smell like that cheap soap from the downtown hotels," he commented with a terrifying calmness. "That aroma of chlorine and damp sheets... itās curious how it clings to the skin, isn't it? Especially when one gives themselves over with such... passion."
I felt the floor disappear beneath my feet. The world became blurred and a dull buzzing filled my ears. The mention of the hotel wasn't a guess; it was a sentence. I ran out of air, feeling my larynx close as panic flooded my nervous system. But the most disgusting part was my body's reaction: in the face of pure terror and the humiliation of being discovered, I felt my pussy pulsing with a violent urgency. The adrenaline of fear mixed with residual arousal, creating a toxic cocktail that left me trembling on the spot.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, though I knew it was useless. My voice was a pathetic whisper.
Mr. Park let out a dry chuckle and slowly walked away, but before leaving the kitchen, he brushed his hand against my hipāa fleeting touch that made my legs buckle.
"There's no need to lie, dear. I prefer it when you're honest about your... appetites," he whispered, and the sound of his footsteps receding left a suffocating void in the room.
I stayed there, leaning against the counter, legs open and breathing broken. I was terrified, yes, but I also felt an electric spark running through my thighs. I felt naked, exposed, as if Mr. Park had ripped off my clothes with just his words and left me there, exhibiting my tits and ass to his judgment. Paranoia installed itself in me like a parasite: now I knew that every time I passed him, he was imagining how I was in that hotel, how I moaned, and how my skin felt.
I was no longer the hunter of the secret; I was the prey. And worst of all was knowing that while fear consumed me, a dark part of me was starting to wish he would finish closing the trap.
When I heard my name echo from the hallway, I felt the air thicken, becoming almost solid around my lungs. "Chaeyeon, come to the study for a moment." Mr. Park's voice wasn't a request; it was a command wrapped in velvet, a low frequency that made every hair on my body stand up. My first reaction was pure panic; I felt an electric shock shoot down my spine, leaving my legs trembling and my mind blank. I knew this moment would come. Since that day at the hotel, I felt as if I were walking on thin glass, and now, finally, I heard it shattering beneath my feet.
I walked toward the office with slow, heavy steps, as if dragging an invisible chain tied to my neck. As I moved through the hallway, my internal monologue was a chaos of voices: "Don't go in," "Run now while you can," "What if he already told Mom?". But beyond the fear, there was a dull anguish thinking about Chaeryeong. We knew we had crossed a line together; we shared that stain, that secret that bound us in a dark and desperate complicity. Thinking that he could use this to separate us or destroy us both caused a visceral nausea.
Upon opening the door, the scent of sandalwood and cold tobacco hit my face with suffocating force. The study was in dim light; the closed blinds let through only a few threads of white light that cut the room into strips, as if I were already entering a cell. I saw Mr. Park leaning against his oak desk, observing me with a predatory calm that made me feel small, insignificant, almost transparent.
And then, the sound happened that finally broke me. Click.
The lock closed. That small metallic noise resonated in my ears like the fall of a guillotine. I froze in the middle of the room, arms pressed to my body and pupils dilated by animal terror. The silence that followed was dense, interrupted only by the erratic rhythm of my own breathing: short inhalations... forced pauses... exhalations that sounded like contained sobs.
He didn't move immediately. He took his time to look at meāa slow and obscene scan that started at my feet and climbed slowly up my legs, pausing on the curve of my ass before moving toward my chest. I felt his eyes stripping me, tearing away my clothes with a single gaze. He knew exactly what he was seeing: not the perfect daughter, but the girl who had enjoyed carnal chaos alongside her sister.
"You look so scared, Chaeyeon," he whispered, starting to walk toward me with calculated slowness. "Itās fascinating how your body reacts when you know you no longer have anywhere to hide."
He stopped right behind me, invading my personal space until I could feel the heat of his chest against my back. He didn't touch me, but the pressure of his presence was so strong that I felt my knees give way. He forced me to remain trapped between him and the edge of the desk, leaving me with no exit.
"Let's talk about that little trip you two took," he continued, leaning in so his warm breath brushed my ear. "That hotel... those white sheets that got so dirty. I wonder if your sister feels the same urgency as you right now to keep the silence."
The indirect mention of us was like a lash. I felt the world spin and my heart hit my ribs with brute force: bum-bum... bum-bum. But then the worst happened: while horror consumed me, I felt an electric shock of forbidden arousal running through my pelvis. My pussy pulsed violently against the fabric of my pants; the humiliation of knowing he had seen us both, that he knew exactly how we moaned and how we surrendered, triggered a treacherous somatic response. I hated myself for this; I hated that fear and degradation ignited a fire in my gut that I couldn't put out.
"You're trembling," he murmured, and this time he did touch me. He slid a hand around my waist, squeezing the flesh of my hip with possessive force. "And you're wet, aren't you? I love that your body is so honest, even though your mouth wants to pretend innocence."
I closed my eyes tight, letting out a broken gasp. I was totally annihilated. There was no longer any room for negotiation. Mr. Park didn't just possess the secret of that trio; now he possessed my nerves and my physical reactions. I felt like a porcelain doll that he had just broken to see how it looked inside.
"Now," he decreed, his voice becoming a glacial mandate, "let's see how obedient a girl can be when she has so much to lose."
I stayed there, trapped between the cold wood of the desk and the suffocating heat of Mr. Parkās body. My breathing was a disaster; short gasps that made my chest rise and fall with an erratic speed, hitting the fabric of my blouse. I could feel his gaze nailed to me, not as a caress, but as a scalpel opening me up, analyzing every corner of my fear. The silence of the study was so dense I could hear the dull throb of my own heart hammering in my ears: bum-bum... bum-bum.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered. His voice wasn't a shout; it was a glacial whisper, an administrative and dry instruction that left me frozen.
The world seemed to stop for an instant. My mind screamed in protestāa visceral reaction of rejection that made me shrink into myself. This can't be happening, I thought, while a wave of panic ran down my spine. But then I remembered Chaeryeongās gaze, the shared secret and the possibility of him letting it all out. That idea acted as an anchor; the fear for my sister was stronger than the disgust for myself.
With fingers trembling violently, I brought my hands to the buttons of my blouse. The first button resisted; my nails slipped on the fabric due to the cold sweat that had begun to bead on my palms. I let out a muffled moanāa mix of frustration and terrorāwhile feeling Mr. Park's gaze fixed on my hands. He said nothing, but his silence was an unbearable pressure forcing me to hurry.
Finally, the button gave way. Then the second. And the third.
As the fabric opened, the cold air of the study hit my skin, provoking a shiver that made me arch my back. I slid the blouse off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a dull soundāalmost imperceptible, but to me, it sounded like the fall of a guillotine. I stood there in only my bra, exposing my arms and stomach to the raw light of the blinds. I felt the air burning me, but what burned more was knowing he was enjoying every second of my humiliation.
"Slower, Chaeyeon," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my neck. "I want to see how you strip away everything. I want to see the expression on your face when you realize you no longer have anything to hide."
I turned slightly, heart galloping in my throat, and reached for the back closure of my bra. The click of the hook releasing was the loudest sound in the room. When I let the garment drop, my tits were exposed to the glacial air of the office. They were small, firm, and pale under the white light; I felt my nipples harden instantly from the cold and fear, projecting forward like two pink, tense pearls. I felt grotesque and vulnerable, an animal stripped naked before its hunter.
But the worst was yet to come. My hands moved down to the waist of my pants. The touch of my own fingers against my skin provoked an electric shiver that ended in a sting of wetness between my legs. I hated myself. I hated that while terror consumed me, my pussy reacted with a treacherous lubrication before the authority of the man.
I slid the pants down with torturous slowness. The fabric stuck to my thighs because of the cold sweat, creating a friction that made me gasp. When the garment hit the floor, I was left in only a small strip of lace that barely covered the essentials. I stood sideways in front of the study mirror, forced by his gaze to observe my own body.
I saw my assāround and massive, extending in a white and voluptuous curve that contrasted violently with the fragility of my waist. It was a fleshy, firm ass that swayed slightly as I trembled. I felt like an object, a piece of meat displayed in a showcase. I knew Mr. Park was devouring that image with his eyes, savoring the roundness of my cheeks and the tension of my skin.
"Now, the last garment," he decreed, his voice becoming a dark mandate. "I want to see you totally open. Right now."
I stood there, naked of everything except a thread of fabric, with hardened tits and an exposed ass, feeling the air of the study wrap around me like a cold shroud. I was broken, stripped of all dignity, and as I looked at Mr. Park, I knew the real hell had just begun.
The silence that followed my stripping was heavier than the clothes I had just dropped on the floor. I stood there, trembling in the center of the study, skin prickling and nipples so tense I felt any touch would make me scream. The cold air of the office hit my tits and stomach, but I could only feel the heat radiating from Mr. Parkās body. He didn't move immediately; he stayed watching me with a predatory calm, enjoying the image of my total vulnerability while I felt myself shrink under his scrutiny.
Then, he took the first step.
It wasn't a hug or a soft caress. It was an invasion. I felt his hand close around my hip with brute force that left me breathless. His fingers sank into my flesh, squeezing the curve of my waist with a possessiveness that made me let out a broken gasp. The thermal contrast was violent: his palm was burning, almost searing my skin which was cold and damp from the sweat of panic.
"Look at you..." he whispered, coming so close that his hot breath clashed against my neck. "So scared, so broken. But your body doesn't lie, does it, Chaeyeon?"
Without warning, he slid his other hand up, trapping one of my tits in a brusque and possessive grip. He forced me to arch my back, and I felt how he squeezed my tit against his palm, molding it with an aggressiveness that made me let out a moan oscillating between pain and a forbidden arousal. His fingers squeezed my nipple hard, twisting it slightly, provoking an electric shock that shot down my spine to anchor itself at the base of my pelvis.
"I wonder if you moaned like this in that hotel," he murmured, his voice becoming a dirty purr. "I wonder if you liked feeling like a whore while you collected the money."
The word "whore" resonated in my ears like a lash, but the humiliation acted as a trigger. I felt my pussy pulse violently against the thin strip of lace of my underwear; lubrication began to flow, thick and hot, betraying me before the man who was degrading me. I hated myself for this; I hated that fear and shame were igniting a fire in my gut that I couldn't put out.
Suddenly, he turned me with a sharp movement, forcing me to be backed up against him. I felt the hard rub of his belt and the pressure of his erection against my assāa solid, hot mass that made my legs tremble. Mr. Park didn't waste time; he brought his hands down to my cheeks and delivered a dry blow, a loud slap that resonated in the silence of the study.
"Ah!" I let out a muffled scream, feeling the skin of my ass burn instantly.
The impact left me breathless, but the pain was immediately followed by a wave of dark, visceral pleasure. I felt his hands grip my cheeks hard, sinking into the fleshy part of my rear, squeezing it as if he wanted to leave permanent marks on me. I felt like an animal, an object of pleasure without will, while he forced me to lean over the desk, exposing my ass completely to the air and his gaze.
"Look what an ass you have, Chaeyeon," he whispered, his voice now charged with animal lust. "An ass made to be used. I wonder how much longer you can pretend to be the good girl while I have you like thisāopen and ready for me."
I felt his hand descend, sliding along the curve of my thigh until reaching the edge of the lace. His fingers brushed the wet fold of my intimacyāa fleeting but electric touch that made me arch my back and let out a long, broken moan. The touch was dirty, deliberate; he was testing my moisture, ensuring I was as ready as he desired.
In that moment, the world was reduced to that contact: the pressure of his body against my back, the burn of my slapped ass, and the suffocating feeling of knowing there was no turning back. I was totally surrendered to the predator's game, and while my tears fell silently onto the wood of the desk, my body screamed for the culmination of that torment.
I was there, bent over the oak desk, arms trembling as they held my own weight and my face sunken into the cold wood. I felt the pressure of Mr. Parkās body pressed against my backāa mass of suffocating heat that made me feel as if the air had run out. Then, I felt his fingers hook the thin lace strap of my underwear. There was no subtlety; he pulled it with a dry, abrupt movement that made me let out a muffled whimper.
The sound of fabric sliding down my thighs was the prelude to the void. Suddenly, I felt the glacial air of the office hit my pussy, leaving me totally exposed, open and vulnerable. I shrank instinctively, trying to close my legs, but he gripped my thighs with brute force, forcing me to keep them open, exhibiting my intimacy to the air and his judgment.
"Look how you tremble," he whispered, and I could feel his dark chuckle against my neck. "You're so wet I can almost smell you from here. I wonder if you'd get this turned on for any stranger who paid you, or if it's only because you know that now you belong to me."
Before I could respond, I felt his hot breath brushing the sensitive skin of my thighs. And then, it happened. The first contact of his tongue against my clitoris was like a high-voltage electric shock that ripped through my entire body. I let out a muffled scream into the wood of the desk, arching my back violently. It wasn't a tender caress; it was an aggressive, wet and deliberate lick.
Slurp... glup...
The sound of his tongue working in my intimacy filled the silence of the studyāa viscous and obscene noise that made me feel like the filthiest creature in the world. Mr. Park wasn't seeking my pleasure; he was seeking to mark me. His lips sucked my skin hard, leaving marks that I knew would take days to fade. Every time his tongue pressed into the center of my pleasure, I felt my will disintegrate.
"You are such an obedient whore, Chaeyeon," he murmured between laps, his voice sounding wet and raspy. "I imagine you love feeling like this, don't you? Knowing your stepfather has you bent over his desk while he licks your pussy as if you were an animal in heat."
The words were psychological whips, but my body reacted with an obscene betrayal. Despite the disgust and humiliation, I felt my nipples harden against the wood and lubrication flow in hot waves, soaking everything where his tongue worked. I was in a state of total hyperesthesia; every movement of his mouth provoked involuntary spasms in my thighs. I felt fragmented: my mind screamed that this was an aberration, but my pussy pulsed with animal urgency, claiming the culmination of that torment.
Suddenly, he pulled away abruptly. The sudden vacuum left me panting, feeling incomplete and exposed. I heard the sound of his pants' zipper going downāa metallic zip that sounded like a final sentence.
"You've had enough pampering," he decreed, his voice becoming glacial and dominant. "Now let's see how much you can take."
I felt him grip my hips with a force that left imprints on my skin. Without any preamble, without any lubrication other than the moisture of fear and desire, he pushed his erection against the entrance of my pussy. The first impact was dry and violent.
"Ahhh!" I screamed, sinking my fingers into the wood of the desk as he buried himself in me in a single thrust, filling me completely.
The initial pain was acuteāa massive pressure that seemed to want to split me in twoābut it was immediately followed by a sensation of suffocating fullness. The rhythm that followed was animal; there was no tenderness, only physical power and possessiveness.
Clap... clap... clap...
The sound of his balls hitting my ass resonated in the room like an obscene percussion. Each thrust pushed me harder against the desk, making my tits bounce against the wood and my head shake violently. I felt how he possessed me with blind fury, using my body as a vessel for his lust and power.
"Tell me who your owner is, whore," he growed in my ear, while his hands squeezed my cheeks so hard I felt the flesh deform. "Tell me while I break you from the inside!"
I couldn't articulate words; I only let out broken moans and desperate gasps. I was lost in a whirlwind of fluids, wet sounds, and a sensation of total annihilation. I felt like an objectāa thing that existed only to be usedāand as the climax approached, I felt my identity vanish, merging with the will of the man who was destroying me.
Silence returned to the study abruptly, a silence so heavy it could almost be felt physically on my shoulders. Mr. Park withdrew from me with the same brusqueness with which he had possessed me, leaving me there, collapsed over the desk, trembling and empty. I felt the draft of cold air hit my sweaty skin, provoking a violent shiver that ran down my back and made me let out a broken sigh.
I stayed motionless for several minutes, face sunken in the cold wood and hair stuck to my forehead by sweat. I could feel the residual moisture sliding slowly down my thighsāa viscous trail that reminded me every second that I had just been used as an object. My pussy throbbed with a dull heaviness, irritated and sensitive; I felt the pressure of the semen cooling inside me, a physical mark of my submission that made me feel anchored to the floor by pure shame.
I heard the metallic sound of his pants' zipper going upāa dry zip that marked the return to normality. The man who was now in front of me was no longer the animal beast who had destroyed me moments ago; he was once again Mr. Park, the impeccable and cordial stepfather. That transition was more terrifying than the act itself: the ease with which he could move from brute lust to the coldness of a controller.
"Clean up this mess," he decreed, his voice regaining that neutral and authoritative tone. "I don't want a single trace of what happened here when you leave this room."
I forced myself to move. My muscles were numb, my legs trembling so much I almost fell while trying to stand up. As I searched for my clothes on the floor, I felt Mr. Park's gaze nailed to my ass, observing the red skin marked by his hands. I felt fragmented; I looked at my own hands and didn't recognize them. My body was still there, pulsing and hot, but my mind had retreated to a distant and dark place to avoid feeling the weight of the humiliation.
When I finished dressing, with clumsy fingers and clouded eyes, I stood in front of the study mirror. I saw myself and felt a visceral nausea. My tits were still sensitive, my lips were swollen, and my pupils were dilated from the emotional shock. I looked like the same person as always, but I knew something had broken irremediably inside me. I was no longer the girl who returned home with money in her pocket and a spark of excitement; now I was someone who belonged to the man standing behind me.
"Listen carefully, Chaeyeon," he said, approaching and placing a hand on my shoulder, squeezing the flesh with possessive firmness. "What happened today is the new order of this house. You know what you have to do so that your secret remains a secret."
I felt a knot tighten in my throat. The fear for myself was unbearable, but then the image of Chaeryeong emerged. I remembered her laughter, her apparent innocence, and the bond that united us. An obsessive idea began to take root in my mind: if I accepted this, if I became Mr. Parkās pressure valve, perhaps he would leave my sister alone. Perhaps I could buy this man's silence with my own flesh.
"If you are an obedient girl... if you do everything I ask without protest," he continued, his voice becoming a glacial whisper in my ear, "your sister will never have to go through this. She can keep smiling and believing she is pure, while you and I take care of the filth."
That promise was the final nail in my coffin. Martyrdom felt like the only dignified way out. I closed my eyes and nodded slightly, accepting the invisible pact. In that moment, Mr. Park had not only taken my body; he had taken my will and transformed it into a shield to protect Chaeryeong.
I left the office with my heart beating slow and heavy, feeling the wet trail between my legs like a chain tying me to the man I had just left behind. As I walked down the hallway toward my room, I knew my life had been divided in two: the facade I would show the world and my sister, and the visceral darkness I would now share exclusively with Mr. Park. I was broken, I was stained, but as long as Chaeryeong was safe, I was willing to let him consume me inch by inch.
Summary : A fan finds out that a guy in the crowd beside him stole Jihyo's ring when she came down to greet the fans. Jihyo finds it interesting when that fan puts the ring on her finger by himself, rather than just returning it, so she calls him back to her dressing room and unveils her biggest fantasy to him.
Jihyo X Myself
11k words.
I got the tickets for the TWICE Berlin concert. This was for their world tour, and somehow, miraculously, I managed to secure front row seats. For weeks leading up to the show, I hoped, really hoped, that the members would come down from the stage and greet the fans up close. I'd seen videos from other tour stops where they interacted with the crowd, and I prayed Berlin would be no different.
The Mercedes-Benz Arena was electric, pulsating with energy from thousands of ONCEs. The concert had been everything I dreamed of, explosive performances, stunning visuals, and the girls looking more beautiful in person than any screen could capture. Now, as the night wore on, the concert was almost nearing its end. Only one hour was left before the final bows.
Then it happened.
Jihyo, the leader, the powerhouse vocalist, the woman whose presence commanded every inch of that stage, decided to step down and greet the fans. She ran along the barricade, her smile radiant, giving high fives to everyone within reach. My heart hammered against my ribs as she approached. When her hand met mine, the contact was brief but electric, warm, soft, real. But as she moved past me toward the next section of fans, I noticed something that made my blood boil.
The guy beside me, some tall, lanky man with greedy eyes, had held onto her hand for far too long. Not just that, but as she pulled away, I watched in disbelief as he slipped his fingers around hers and removed her ring. He brought it close to his face, turning it over, examining it like some trophy he'd won.
"Hey!" I snapped, grabbing his wrist hard. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He startled, trying to pull away. "I-I was just looking-"
"Just looking?" I cut him off, my voice rising above the music. "You stole her ring! Are you insane? That's not a souvenir, you creep! That's her personal property! She trusted us enough to come down here and you repay that by stealing from her?"
"Give it back," he muttered, shoving the ring toward me.
I snatched it from his palm, my fingers trembling with anger. "Get out of here before I call security myself. You're disgusting."
He slinked away into the crowd as I closed my fist around the delicate band. It was beautiful, simple but elegant, probably with sentimental value. I looked up toward the stage, wondering if I should try to signal someone, but the music was still pounding and the lights were flashing.
Then I saw her.
Jihyo had returned to the stage, but something was wrong. She was looking down at her hand, then patting her pockets, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm. She approached the edge of the stage, standing right above where I was, and held up her hand. She pointed to her ring finger, the empty space where the band should have been, and looked out at the crowd with questioning eyes.
My heart stopped. I immediately waved both hands above my head, jumping slightly to catch her attention. When her eyes locked onto me, I slowly opened my palm to reveal the ring glinting under the stage lights. I pointed at it, then gestured toward her, mouthing "Should I throw it?"
She shook her head vigorously, signaling no. Then, to my astonishment, she moved toward the stairs at the side of the stage and came back down.
The crowd around me erupted in excited whispers as she approached. My hand shook as I held out the ring, expecting her to simply take it from my palm. But as she reached me, something came over me, some boldness I didn't know I possessed. Instead of dropping it into her hand, I reached out and gently took her left hand in mine.
Her eyes widened, dark and luminous, as I carefully slid the ring onto her finger. The touch of her skin against mine was soft, warm, impossibly intimate. I adjusted the band until it sat perfectly in place, my thumb brushing over her knuckle before I let go.
She was stunned, I could see it in the parting of her lips, the slight hitch in her breath, but she didn't stop me. She let me finish, let me hold her hand for that suspended moment in time. When I finally released her, she didn't immediately pull away. Instead, she held my gaze, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that made the world around us disappear.
It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime moment. I couldn't breathe. My lungs seemed to forget how to function as Jihyo maintained that eye contact, her expression softening into something I couldn't quite read, gratitude mixed with curiosity, perhaps. My heart hammered so hard I was certain she could hear it over the music.
Then she turned and spoke quickly to a security woman standing nearby, a stern-looking German woman with a headset. Jihyo gestured toward me, said something I couldn't hear, and then hurried back to the stage to continue the concert.
The security woman stared at me. Her eyes were cold, assessing, making me feel like I'd done something wrong even though I'd only returned what was stolen. She maintained that gaze throughout the remaining hour of the concert, never looking away, never smiling.
When the final song ended and the girls took their bows, I was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Sadness that the concert was over, that the magic was dissipating. But happiness, pure, radiant happiness, that the moment with Jihyo had happened at all. That I'd touched her hand, looked into her eyes, placed a ring on her finger like some scene from a dream.
I filed out with the crowd, my mind still replaying that eye contact, the softness of her skin. But as I reached the exit corridor, a hand grabbed my arm.
It was the same security woman from before.
"Come with me," she said in accented English, her tone leaving no room for argument.
My stomach dropped. I thought I'd done something wrong by keeping the ring instead of immediately throwing it, or perhaps Jihyo was angry about how intimate the moment had become. Maybe the company staff had called me in to give me a warning, or worse, ban me from future events.
My thoughts raced as she led me through corridors I didn't know existed, past staff-only doors, deeper into the backstage area. Finally, she stopped in front of a door with a paper sign taped to it that simply read "Jihyo" in handwritten Hangul.
"Go in," the security woman said, pointing.
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. Every instinct told me to run, that this was a mistake. But curiosity and something else, hope, maybe, pushed me forward. I turned the handle and stepped inside.
The room was warm, lit by soft vanity lights. And there she was, Park Jihyo, no longer the idol on stage but a woman removing her jewelry piece by piece, wiping makeup from her face with cotton pads. She looked smaller somehow, more human, more real. She looked up as I entered, and my heart stopped all over again.
"Close the door," she said softly, her voice carrying that distinctive tone I knew from interviews, warm, slightly husky, melodious even in simple speech.
I pushed the door shut behind me, the click of the latch echoing in the small room.
"Sit," she gestured to a chair near her vanity. "Please."
I sat, my hands clammy, my mind screaming that this couldn't be real.
She turned to face me fully, her face half-bare now, makeup removed from one cheek. Without the stage cosmetics, she looked younger, more vulnerable, but no less beautiful. If anything, the naturalness of her skin, the slight redness where she'd been rubbing, made her more stunning.
"I wanted to thank you," she said, her English careful but clear. "For the ring. It was... a very important gift from my mother."
I nodded, finding my voice. "I-I saw that guy take it. I couldn't just let him keep it."
"You were angry," she observed, a small smile playing at her lips. "I saw you yelling at him. Even from the stage, I could see your face was red."
"He had no right to touch you like that," I said, the indignation rising again even now. "To steal from you. You were kind enough to come down to us, and he repaid that by..."
"By stealing," she finished. "Yes."
She stood up and walked closer, her concert outfit still on, a sparkling top and skirt that caught the light. "Fans touch me all the time," she said quietly. "High fives, handshakes, sometimes they try to grab. It is part of the job. But tonight... when you held my hand to put the ring on..." She paused, her eyes meeting mine. "It felt different."
My breath caught. "Different how?"
"Like..." She searched for words, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Like a fantasy come true. The way you did it, so gentle, so careful. Looking into my eyes. It felt unreal. Like something from a drama."
The air in the room seemed to thicken. I could smell her perfume, something floral and warm, mixed now with the scent of sweat from performing, which somehow made it more intimate.
"I have another fantasy," she said, her voice dropping lower, taking on a quality that made my skin prickle with heat. "One I've never told anyone."
I swallowed hard. "What is it?"
Her eyes darkened, becoming heavy-lidded, seductive. She reached up and slowly began unclipping her earrings, one by one, her gaze never leaving mine. "I've always wondered," she said, setting the earrings on her vanity with deliberate slowness, "what it would be like to have a fan watch me change. To see me... completely."
My mouth went dry. "Jihyo..."
"Don't speak," she whispered, her fingers moving to the zipper at the side of her skirt. "Just watch."
She slowly pulled the zipper down, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet room. The skirt loosened and she let it fall, stepping out of it with a grace that made my chest ache. She was wearing stockings underneath, attached to a garter, and simple black underwear that contrasted sharply with her fair skin.
"You look shocked," she teased, her voice breathy now. "Have you never imagined this? All those times you watched me on stage, on screen... did you never wonder what was underneath?"
"I... yes," I admitted, my voice rough. "I've imagined."
"Good," she purred, reaching for the hem of her top. She pulled it up slowly, revealing her toned stomach, the curve of her ribs, and finally, her breasts, encased in a delicate lace bra. She tossed the top aside and reached behind her, unhooking the bra with practiced ease.
When it fell away, I couldn't suppress the groan that escaped me. Her breasts were perfect, full, with dark nipples that hardened slightly in the cool air of the room. She saw me looking and smiled, a knowing, seductive smile.
"You like what you see?" she asked, cupping them slightly, lifting them as if offering them to my gaze.
"You're beautiful," I managed. "More than I ever imagined."
She laughed softly, a throaty sound. "Still so polite. Even now." She hooked her thumbs into her underwear and pushed them down, stepping out of them completely. Now she stood before me naked, unashamed, her body lit by the warm vanity lights, every curve, every secret place exposed.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the chair I sat in.
I nodded, unable to speak.
She approached slowly, her hips swaying, her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me dizzy. She placed her hands on my knees, spreading them slightly to make room for herself. Then she leaned forward, her bare chest pressing against my clothed one, her face inches from mine. I could feel her heat through the fabric, could smell the sweetness of her breath.
"Is this okay?" she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.
"Yes," I breathed. "God, yes."
She pulled back slightly, her hands sliding up my thighs, her breasts pressing harder against my chest. We were so close now, our mouths almost touching, her eyes half-closed with desire,
A sharp knock at the door made us both jump.
Jihyo's eyes went wide with panic. "Hide!" she whispered urgently, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "Quickly! Behind the outfit rack!"
She pushed me toward a rolling clothing rack filled with costumes and stage outfits. I squeezed behind it, crouching down as she grabbed whatever clothes she could find, a oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, and threw them on haphazardly.
"Coming!" she called out, her voice miraculously steady.
The door opened. "Jihyo-unnie?" It was Momo's voice, recognizable anywhere. "Have you seen the manager? My phone isn't working and I need to call my family."
"Ah, no, I haven't seen him," Jihyo replied, her voice slightly breathless but controlled. "Maybe check the catering area?"
"Okay, thanks. Sorry to bother you while you're changing."
"It's fine, Momo. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, unnie."
After Momo left, Jihyo breathed, a long, shaky exhale that seemed to release the panic from her body. She leaned her forehead against the door, her hand still gripping the handle, her chest heaving beneath the oversized t-shirt she'd thrown on.
"That was too close," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She almost caught us. She would have known, she would have seen..."
I stepped out from behind the clothing rack, my heart still hammering from the near-miss. "But she didn't," I said softly. "We're safe."
Jihyo turned to face me, her eyes wide and dark, still flushed with adrenaline. "I can't believe I just did that. I've never... I've never hidden a man in my dressing room before."
I slowly approached her, my movements deliberate, giving her space to back away if she wanted to. But she didn't move. She watched me come closer, her lips parted, her breath quickening again, for a different reason now. When I reached her, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against me. Her hands immediately interlocked behind my neck, her fingers threading through my hair, gripping tight.
I let my hands slide down, cupping her thighs, lifting her slightly so she could feel all of me. My erection was hard against her stomach, impossible to hide, pressing insistently through my jeans. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt it, her body arching into mine.
"You're so hard," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "You really want me that much?"
"More than anything," I growled.
I kissed her slowly, the way they do in the Korean dramas she starred in, the first touch was just a slight brush of lips, tentative and soft, testing the waters. But then I dove right in, capturing her mouth fully, my tongue sweeping across her lower lip until she opened for me. Our tongues met, sliding against each other in a wet, heated dance. I explored her mouth thoroughly, tasting the mint from her backstage breath freshener mixed with something uniquely her. The kiss deepened, our heads tilting, mouths opening wider, tongues stroking and curling together in a rhythm that mimicked what we both desperately wanted.
I walked her backward until her back hit the door with a solid thud. The sound echoed in the small room, but I didn't stop. I pushed her harder against the wood, pinning her there with my body while my hands found the hem of her t-shirt and shoved it up above her tits. They bounced free, heavy and perfect, nipples already tight and begging for my mouth.
I bent my head and licked them, starting with the underside, tracing the swell of each breast with my tongue before circling closer to the center. I laved attention on her left nipple, sucking it deep into my mouth, rolling it against my tongue, feeling it harden even more. She moaned, her head falling back against the door with a soft knock. I moved to the right, giving it the same treatment, sucking, licking, grazing my teeth gently over the sensitive peak until she was squirming against me, her hips bucking involuntarily.
"Please," she whimpered. "Don't stop."
I turned her around, spinning her to face the door. Her tits pressed against the cool wood, her cheek turned to rest against the surface, her breath fogging the painted metal. I kept her shirt bunched up above her breasts, leaving them pinned against the door as I reached down and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her sweatpants. I pulled them down in one swift motion, taking her underwear with them, exposing her completely from the waist down.
She was beautiful, her ass round and firm, the cleft between her cheeks shadowed and inviting. I dropped to my knees behind her, spreading her legs wider, and buried my face between her ass cheeks. I licked upward, dragging my tongue from her sensitive perineum all the way to the small of her back, then back down again. I found her pussy, already wet and swollen, and dove in, lapping at her folds with broad strokes of my tongue. I circled her entrance, teasing her, before pushing my tongue inside, feeling her muscles clench around me. I moved up to her clit, sucking it gently, flicking it rapidly with the tip of my tongue while she ground back against my face, her moans muffled against her arm.
"Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her hips bucking. "Right there, please, right there..."
I spun her around again, her back hitting the door now, her face flushed and desperate. I attacked her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin where her pulse hammered, leaving marks that would be hidden by stage makeup tomorrow. She was moaning loudly now, her hands gripping my hair, her thighs trembling.
But then she bit her lip, hard, her teeth sinking into the plush flesh, her eyes showing a flicker of reason through the haze of lust. "Wait," she gasped, even as I dropped my mouth to her tits again, sucking one nipple deep while my hand rolled the other between my fingers. "We... we have to stop. We can't... not here, not now..."
She pulled me up by my hair, her grip surprisingly strong, and captured my mouth in a fierce kiss. When we broke apart, both panting, she looked at me with dark, hungry eyes, her lip still bearing the indentations of her teeth.
"I love how horny you are for me," she whispered, her hand sliding down to palm my erection through my jeans, making me groan. "I can feel how much you want me. It's driving me crazy. But if we get caught... if anyone finds out..." She kissed me again, softer this time. "I want you. God, I want you so much. But not like this, not rushed, not terrified."
She pulled her shirt down, covering her breasts, then bent to pull her pants up, her movements quick and efficient. I watched, bereft, as she hid the body I'd just been worshipping. Then she placed her hands on my chest and pushed me backward. I stumbled and sat hard in the chair I'd occupied earlier.
Jihyo walked to her vanity mirror, adjusting her clothes, smoothing her hair, wiping at her swollen lips with the back of her hand. She met my eyes in the reflection, her gaze heated and promising.
"Instead," she said, her voice steady now with resolve, "I can get you a job. On my personal staff. A fake resume, something related to makeup, styling. You could travel with me, be with me all the time. In hotel rooms. In private. Where we won't be interrupted." She turned to face me fully. "Would you want that?"
"Yes," I said, my voice hoarse. "Yes, I want that."
"Good," she whispered.
She crossed the room to me, her hips swaying with renewed confidence. She stopped in front of my chair, then climbed onto my lap, straddling my hips, her thighs gripping me tight. She reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up slowly, inch by inch, until her breasts were exposed once more, right in front of my face, heavy, perfect, the nipples still wet from my mouth, glistening in the vanity light.
"For now," she said, her voice a seductive promise as she pressed her chest toward my mouth, offering herself completely, "let's seal the deal."
Edit : Sorry to abruptly end the story at the peak, I promise I'm thinking of writing the next parts for it, so stay patient.
A/N: Thanks for waiting!~ (More A/N at the end of the smut)
āI...amā¦ so... so... sorryā¦ā Dahyun enunciated. Making sure you heard every ounce of regret behind each word. The moment you entered the home you two built, she ran to you. Worriedly telling you about what happened earlier with John; the man who had his way with the woman of your dreams while you sat back, and stroked your cock in the tiny cube your company had the guts to call an office.
The windows were spotlights. Her spotlight. The afternoon's sun painting her golden like her confession was some best selling novel instead of betrayal.
She had on fresh clothes. The clothes that probably smelled like their shared scent were gone. She probably burned them. Ridding you the chance to know how she smelled like getting fucked by a real man. Good riddance.
"I- I promise it was a mistake" she said that like she were begging. Begging you to hear her out. Begging you to stay. Begging you to stop making that unreadable face.
Begging you to stop being so far away from her like she was strapped with a bomb. But there was no bomb. Just remorse, and truth.
Your silence makes her go for broke. Leaping at you to close the gap in your relationship, making you crash against the door, ringing steel and oak that cuts through the peace of the apartment complex.
Dahyun buries her face on your neck, wetting it with her sob. Unable to look you straight in the eye as she pleads with skin, with warmth, with her lithe figure that she knows you know fit perfectly in your frame like a puzzle piece.
She was practically molding her flesh with your work clothes. Her thighs on yours. Head on your neck. Arms on your chest. And crotch on...
"John was a mistake. A mistake that..." Her sin gets stuck in her throat.
"A mistake that wont ever---" She backs her midriff off your crotch
"Wont ever----" The sentence dies off.
Your lungs deflate like Exodus as she suddenly grabs your cock.
Your eyebrows furrow, and you were about to scold her for thinking that sexual favor would get her out of this.
But you didn't. For her eyes held curiosity laced with accusation. She finally looks up at you, showing you puffed eyes. Peering like she studied the windows to your soul.
Then she looked down to what her hand felt. Hardness.
Her eyes narrow as she feels the outline of your member. The cogs in her brain start to work, and so does her hand. Tentatively pumping you in shallow closed-fist strokes.
"John... he- he used me."
Pulse
"Took advantage of me"
Pulse
"Baby... he made me cum..."
That was your limit, and your zipper knew it too, clinking. Faint. Struggling to contain what new length you've reached.
The remorse starts leaving her face. Replaced with shock. Each pulse, each truth your body revealed dropped her jaw lower. Discovering what pleasure you found from her sin.
You had nothing. Absolutely nothing. For you knew that your body spoke louder than whatever words you could put together.
Dahyun closes the gape in her mouth. And with calculated movement, she brings your hand to her face. Slowly. Akin to testing waters. Cupping it with closed eyes. Cupping it so dearly you'd think you were holy. She smells your knuckles. Her forehead wrinkles at the smell of fax machine ink and an honest day's work. Seconds entailed. Ones that she stretched. Pausing time so she could hear what truth pulses on your wrist.
The agony in her face had long since past, replaced with duty, and a determination you've only seen backstage when TWICE was still active.
Dahyun guides you to the bedroom. Getting on her knees to trek the duvet as she pulls you to lay.
No more words. No more tears. Just duty.
You've never seen your sweet little tofu like this before. The girl who giggled everytime you kissed her. Your pillow princess that always felt the need to ask permission to be the little spoon.
No.
This was a different girl.
Confident.
Evident by her spreading your legs so she could use your thigh as her seat.
She undoes your zipper. Taking her time with each tooth. Click, click, click.
With her off hand, she grabs your chin. Demanding your gaze as she fishes for your cock.
"Tell me how you feel... about your woman being taken"
You look away. Clinging to what pride you had left, until she uses her thumb to trace your crown. Practically purple. Longing for her touch ever since this afternoon.
Your face contorts to the friction of soft thumb on rigid flesh.
Yet. Still no reply on your end.
"Baby" she drags her manicure on your tender cock to get your attention. Making you hiss, and return her gaze, witnessing her knowing smirk.
"I promise never to do something like that ever again..." Dahyun said that like she didn't regret it, all the while taking her time to drag the soft of her hand across your length. From the very tip of your engorged head, to the deepest depth that the fat of your base allowed her to push down on. "but something tells me you don't want that..."
"That you don't want me to be your pure Tofu" stroke
"monogamous..." stroke
"only yours..." stroke
"You want to share me, dont you?"
You've been made. You cuck.
She revealed more of the afternoon to you in excruciating detail while jerking you off. As hot as it was, you can't help but shift expressions. From frustration of her soft handjob, to a face that's starting to realize that she didn't know about your front row seat via the doggy cam.
She picks up on that. You see it in her face. Doubt mixing with the fear of losing someone she loved... The same face she had finding out some members were leaving JYPE way back when.
So she doubles down. Stroking you with a close grip. Harder. Almost desperate. While the other hand kneads your balls.
āThis is still my favorite cock, Y/N oppa... Not John's who made me cum" your heart skips a beat
"Nor the landlord who lowers our rent... nor the janitors' who turn a blind eye for association dues..." full pause went your pulse.
This woman... not only did she admit further promiscuity, but she broke your word as a manāeffectively nulling your promise to pay for every single cent of this place.
Never in your wildest dreams nightmares did you think that your wallet would ever work together with your girlfriend's holes to pay for this place. The broken promise. The treachery.
Your guts tighten, tugging your dick to stand acute. Almost flat on your belly. To which her hand never disconnects from your cock.
She spent hours jerking you off as she spat molten words of treachery that should've pushed you out the door. Not cum like a fucking fire hose.
-----
Under the refuge of the night. You lay in bed. Still.
Sifting through her hair like it untangled your feelings. Your heartstrings play dissonant chords while you allow even the moon to touch your lady laying on top of you, painting silver trimmings on her body.
"Dahyun... I'm so lost..." you told the lady laying atop you. She finished drawing nothing on your chest by sealing it with a kiss. Dahyun looks up to meet your eyes. And finds your hand without even a glance. Cupping it. Locking it. Like a promise.
She waited. Savoring the seconds it took for your heart to settle.
"I'll guide you through this" she simply said.
You chose to believe her. As she had nothing but adoration behind those tight peepers of hers.
"Did... did you... really fuck the Janitors?... And the Landlord?..." you looked away. This was all too new for you after all. "Is that why they keep staring at your ass when you're not looking?"
She didn't answer that. Making you drop your gaze and see her blushing. Hiding behind balled fist.
"N-no... DO THEY REALLY CHECK ME OUT? I ONLY SAID THAT TO GET YOU TO CUM." she was nervously giggling.
"How did you even kn--"
She traps your query with a kiss.
"Because your heart spoke to me" and there she goes again replacing the sun with that smile. That wide one that makes her look like a bean.
She hits your chest "Yah. I am not a bean" Dahyun stays her hand. Feeling the thump of your heart.
She then lay the side of her head on your chest like every thump of it was a language only she could decipher...
"Baby?... I don't want YOU to pay for everything around here." she gets up on her elbows "I want US to pay for everything. Together."
You were about to go on another one of your spiels. 'I want to treat you like royalty' 'I want to keep my promise' this that and the other thing, to which she seals your rant with a finger on your lips. Stopping you before you could start.
She lifts her eyebrows. Hinting at the possibilities. You start putting two in two together.
"What were you thinking?" you asked. Your new-found fetish beating out your principles as a man.
"Well? Remember that promotion they didn't give you last week?" she shows that idol smirkāthe one you thought was reserved for freakishly spotting cameras, shining like it'll spot yet another. Soon. Very soon.
"You willing to bet your boss is a ONCE?"
--------------------------------
The next morning was like any other. Teeth brushed. Body bathed. Clothes picked out. But this time around? You were the one staying home, and she was the one going to the office.
"Okay baby, let's go through the plan one last time." you said as you helped her dry her hair.
She clears her throat. "My man" God, that phrase made your shoulders feel weightless. She smiled at that; you being all too easy to read.
"My man... THAT I LOVE... has been passed over for a promotion time and time again. And just last week, the position he's yearned for was filled by some outside hireāwho knows nothing about the company despite being an up and coming prodigy scouted by all the headhunters in Seoul---" you cut her off.
"Yeah, maybe don't remind my boss about the credentials I'm up agaisnt."
"Babe, do you really think your boss will notice a word when I'm wearing THIS?" she gets up and turns, letting her free-flowing skirt give you a flash of her white panties. Easily. It was practically a belt. It wasn't clothing, it was sexual harassment waiting to happen. And the idea of it stirs your loins.
"Can't forget about this, right babe?" she said, wearing glasses that reads RayBan at the side of the frame.
-------------------------------
You counted the minutes before she got back. She was late. And every second made you think of all the possible reasons as to why. An hour, maybe two, passed before she finally got home.
"MISSION COMPLETE, BABY" Dahyun ran to you in a hug, letting you smell her after-sweat mixing with someone else's perfume. Before you could let a word out, she leads you to the bedroom with tons of kisses on your face. She pushes you to sit on the bed while she navigates her phone to open up the Meta Glasses app. She hands you her phone and sits beside you so you could watch together.
"He was so easy to get hard. So so easy. So so fastā¦" Your boss's age comes to mind. And her words nibble at the feet of a brewing fear..
"He was so excited. So raw. With a cock barely bigger than my hands" her gentle words tie around your neck like a noose. Dahyun kept gnawing at your ear while her hands fiddle to press play.
Her heels click and clack the floors you've trudged through a million times already. The stains, the cracks, the dirt trapped between the lines that separates the tiles. Never did you think you'd view them through her eyes. Walking toward the goal of fucking another man to get you the promotion you claim you deserve.
It wasn't hard to distinguish where your boss's office was. Only a select few was valued in your company. And management made sure the difference between the likes of you and the likes of them were distinct. The upper management's offices all look the same. Heck, even the door. Everything seemed normal at this point.
Dahyun lets herself in to get a scope of the landscape. And you peer at the familiar room layout. Wide area, grand windows, carpeted floors, and a cherry wood table at the center of it all. Fat and scotch brown, adorning curves that didn't need to prove itself as fine craftsmanship.
'Wait a minute...' you thought.
Dahyun explores with slow curiosity. The camera panning with every turn of her head. This is truly the office layout of your dreams... too much like it, in fact....
The voice in your head gets interrupted by her shaky camera work
Dahyun gets on her tippy toes to sit atop the cherry wood table. She grabs the glasses and lets you see what your boss will see once he enters. All of her. Soft cotton long sleeves up top. And below? Practically nothing. Panties barely covered by her flowy skirt. Nothing else. Not even shame. "Let's hope he's a ONCE, baby"
Click went the door. Sounding like the pin of a grenade.
"Fuck." your boss said, followed by heels of shoes sounding faster and stronger and closer to your girl.
She bites her lips at the sight of him, while the glasses were still angled for you to see her instead of your boss.
A clearer background shows. And you notice the bookshelves, hollow. The walls, clearly repainted. The floors, all too clean for your boss's nervous pacings.
Your gut tells you something was wrong, but your cock blocks it out. Add Dahyun's hand tracing the pipe-shaped hardness behind your house shorts.
"I'm happy that that's your reac--mHPPh" he lunges, causing her to drops the glasses on the table, not letting you see anything past her hips up. Hips and thighs that your boss was already busy kneading. Mandhandling.
You didn't didn't need visuals to know that your boss was devouring your woman like he was trying to suck out her soul.
His lust was immediate, you could tell from the audio alone. You didnt need to see it. But God did you want to.
Dahyun kissed your cheek with equal frenzy as you tune into the video on her phone. "By the way? Your boss was ONCE." She smiled agaisnt your skin.
"What the hell is a ONCE." he said in a hurry. Then unbuckled his pants in a hurry. Spread your girlfriend's legs. In. A. Hurry. As he works his pants off, he crouches, finally revealing his face. Smug. Young. Definitely not your boss's. Your thumb presses pause so hard and so fast that you almost cracked the screen.
"BABY..." Your world flips. This wasn't your boss.
"bABY!... YOU FUCKED THE WRONG GUY... I TOLD YOU WHICH OFFICE RIGHT?!" you raised your voice in panic. You weren't mad. Maybe your cock was, sure, but you more so concerned. All her efforts poured down the drain.
"Yes you did... but your boss said that firing this clown would cost your company an arm. And promoting you would cost a leg. Baby I threw everything at your boss, but he said if he agreed to our terms, there would be no more company for you to supervise... so..."
"You made Keith quit"
She bites your earlobe softly. And she slowly drags her teeth away from it. "Exactly."
It made sense.
But sound logic didn't make you the stop feeling like shit.
Because first he took your promotion. And now, your girl.
Dahyun's smile twitched like she was fighting for it to not crook. Like she knew this twist would make this sweet all the more bitter. More interesting.
With deft hands, she resumes the video and takes off your shorts and boxers. Fast. Scrunching, and scratching courtesy of her manicure. The one she told you she had gotten done so she looks prettier for your boss. A treat reaped by the man you hate the most in the office.
"Ooh myyy, babyyy" she purred. Seeing your cock. So wet and fat and constantly streaming precum. Begging for attention. She moaned with every bead of arousal you leaked. "Ooohhh my my my~"
You were about to whine with how she merely stared at your erect cock, until she looks back at the video.
Dahyun strokes Keith's cock. Harder and harder she went. Not because he was hotāhe was. This wunderkind doesn't shut up about his gym sessionsābut because he was... not gifted... Her strokes were not ones to please a lover. No. It goading. And expectant. Like she was demanding more, but was far too polite to ask 'this was it?' outright.
Like on queue, she palms your heated balls with her frigid hands. Dragging up and down on sync with the way she gave Keith a handjob. She palmed you so hard that your cock stuck to your belly. So hard that your pubes tugged and hitched and "Fuckkk"
She treated your words like the gun that starts a race. Making a fucking mess on your cock. Her fist closed around your tip and recklessly spread friction and precum all across your shaft. Up and down. She abandons video Dahyun's pace. Her handjob rung squelch noises across the room. Each stroke more uncaring of the filth she's making than the last.
You notice her eyes peeking sideways, checking the video yet again.
"Mmmhh now the nipples, slut"
Your blood burns at his derogation, but it reaches boiling point once she follows his instruction.
Both in the video. And onto you.
Keith was tall. Taller than you. So Dahyun didn't need to hunch so awkwardly to have her tongue play with his hairy nipples, all the while the love of your life never forgot to keep jerking this jerk's cock.
Actions she bring to life by making you experience it first hand.
"NnGHHHH" came your whining, as this was your first time with this sensation. You felt so sensitive. Your flesh crawls into goosebumps. Your short hairs stand as your Dubu introduces you to a new realm of pleasure thanks to your rival Keith.
Keith... Your mind was blendered at this point. Brain stem tugged at every which way. Not knowing if you should thank the rat bastard or shove his ass to the ground. Your eyes cross. But here goes the video again pulling you back to Earth.
Slap slap slap slap slap went his cock on her entrance. Giving you a hint of how wet the both of them were. Your girl, and your rival.
She gets on top of you like a good cowgirl. Slowly descending. Your wetness mixing with hers as you part her innie pussy. She moans. And your lungs rattle anger. For right now, she sounded exactly like she did in the video. Hinting that her satisfaction with you only equaled her satisfaction with Keith.
"Can you feel it?" once fully bottomed out, she rocks her hips in small circles. "Can you feel the indentation his cock left inside me?"
"Feel it baby, feel how much deeper you can reach compared to his crooked cock" she fucking worshipped your length, but the face she made said otherwise. Her legs quiver with hardship as she ascends.
"Feel the details of his cock etched into me... Feel how... You're bigger. And yet he STILL got to fuck me." she slammed herself down. Your balls hitting her thick tofu thighs.
Keith had the upper hand, for in the video, your girl was letting him rut and rut and rut like a fucking dog burying a bone.
She ascends yet again.
"Totally not embarrassing, right?" slam, then up again
"That someone so inferior is treating me like you would" slam.
"Or maybe, like John would" that was the last straw. Before the former TWICE member could slam back down, you hold the swell of her hip to stop her. And you fucking impale your cock inside her.
She moaned.
Or at least she tried.
For all she could procure was a soundless scream as you claim her.
"Like I would" you reaffirm. Accepting that John absolutely wrecked your girl yesteday. It lit a fire inside you. A fire that aims to to cauterize John's indelible name off her mouth.
You angle, making sure that you pierce that 'indent' that she claims Keith left. "Keep those legs steady baby" you said through grit teeth, as you rub and rub and rub Keith's claim in her insides.
Her cries of pleasure bounce off the walls of your room, drowning out the sounds of Keith railing your beloved.
"MY LEGS ARE ON FIRE" she screamed. And she was right. You see her legs spasming as they were hooked on Keith's elbow and shoulder.
"THEY WERE. THEY REALLY WERE, BABY, I'M SO SORR--" her legs give out, the sear of lactic acid on her thighs and quads were all too much, causing her to spear herself on your cock. The unguided descent made her spine quake like it threatened to crumble, as your cock threatened to pierce her cervix right through.
While you? Your heart tinged. For her legs had strength for Keith, but only enough for Keith. Like he had drained her strength and left you with nothing.
That didn't sit right with you, so without undoing your connection, you flip her. Missionary, like in the video. Two can play this game. You place the phone next to her head and you roll your hips like you've never before. Exploring her sex like you've never before. Making her pleasure your mission like you've never before.
Your ass cheeks tighten with the way you hoist every enter. Digging through her floor and ending it with a cock flat on her cervix. "nnGHH, NNGHHH"
Your exits weren't reprieve, they were extensions of your intention. To pleasure. To love. To mark every inch of her sex like you were branding her. Rather than pulling back, you were widening your legs. Squishing her perineum using your base. Physics did the work, as the cramped hole caused your cock to scrape her roof. "FUCKK"
Dahyun cussed with your every repeating motion. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK."
"I'M YOUR MAN, KIM DAHYUN" you said that like she didn't know. Like you didn't say it every time you bed her. You were right to do so though, as this pottymouth wasn't the same Catholic woman you fell for. And you made sure to introduce your new self to her new self.
"fUCK... FUCK FUCK FUUh----" her insides shut around you so tight that it felt like she's squeezing you out. Making you pump all that much harder. The noises she made weren't hers anymore. It was satisfying violence. Like glass shattering. Similar to the image you thought you've accurately painted of her.
She gripped the sheets at first, then the pillows, then the headboard. Anything to root her onto reality. Her hands looked like they were swatting the air violently, unknowing what to use as an anchorāfor each of your hurried thrusts caused beautiful ripples onto her pudgy white thighs. Heavenly turbulent.
"H- H- H- " she had nothing left but tentative huffs of air rid of profanities, saving her breath to stay conscious. "Where, baby?
"Where can I cum?"
"Where can I cum?"
You ask the same question as the phone. Making you finally look up at it again after what felt like hours of rutting your girl.
Dahyun puts a hand on Keith's defined abs to stop his pumpings.
An action she mimics on your less-chiseled tummy. The only difference was her face... or rather... mask...
In the video, she had on the same mask she wore yesterday. You remember, right? The mask she wore as John turned her into his toy. One of concern, but with eyes so epicly dilated that its curving into hearts.
But you weren't Keith. So you hold her down. And ;ock her hips around your waist, so you can freely piston her to chase your ending. Your panting mixed with laughter cause you are a petty petty man. You wanted to experience something Keith never will.
You were almost there "I'm gONNA fUCKING PAINT YOUR INSIDES KIM DAHY--"
"w-WAIT!" you heard her video self protest, to which Keith replies by swatting your girlfriend's hand away and grab her hips. Same as you were doing right now, but without warning. Without the need to verbalize your claim on her body. There was no pettiness. He just took what he wanted the same way he did your job. Rocking his hips as he deposits his seed deep inside your Kim Dahyun.
His conservative length led to his cum leaking out so easily. So fast. You mightve wanted to paint her insides, but Keith? Keith painted her thighs with the way his spunk dripped down on them. Like some sick perk of having a small cock.
That visual didn't push you off the edge, it SHOVED you to oblivion. Straining your balls so hard that the line between pain and pleasure began to fade, and you cum ropes, strings, and fireworks inside your girlfriend. Cock pressing hard to push inside her limit. Until her insides tell you that this was as deep as her biology went. Cock pressing like you're coping that 'at least Keith's small cock never got to taste her womb.'
But you knew.
You knew that you'll have to 'experience something Keith never will' another day. Cause tonight, you are on equal footing with himācreampie-ing the love of your life. Despite how much longer your cock was.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The video ends. Frozen at the last frame.
The room only sounds chased breaths.
You still had your softening cock deep inside her. Locking your offsprings in this former idol.
Dahyun had on the most whimsical face. Proud. And satisfied. Like she asked for everything and got everything.
None of the footages ever showed this. All of her snow white self in the most wrecked of ways. Hands up. Sweat shining sheens on her pits and tits and tummy and oh God you've never seen her look so willingly vulnerable. Unguarded, by choice. To you. And only you.
You feel butterflies mob your stomach. Like this was the first time you've seen Kim Dahyun. The real Kim Dahyun.
With locked hips, you bend down. Gently. Shy. Like this was the first time you two ever had sex. First time to have her face to face. Your lips travel around. Chin, cheek, temple, forehead.
She giggles at the suddenly shy stance that her stud took tonight. So she takes initiative. Grabbing you by the shoulders and kissing you to seal the night.
Your slumber had tough competition tonight.
For this Dahyun was surreal reality. One that you never knew you dreamed of.
I wrote this a lot longer than my past smuts since I feel like I owe that to all the people whoāafter all this timeāare STILL waiting for part 2š¤£
TMI: I was actually on the heels of doing something so irritatingly convoluted and complex until I realized that I should erase everything and write something that would satisfy me, not scrutiny.
I hope this was worth the 2 years, 10 weeks, and 2 days wait!
P.S. Thank you for all the words and all the "definitely not cucks" in my inbox. The words you left thereāalthough never replied toātruly did make a difference upon writing this piece.
A/N: Thanks for waiting!~ (More A/N at the end of the smut)
<- Previous episode
āI...amā¦ so... so... sorryā¦ā Dahyun enunciated. Making sure you heard every ounce of regret behind each word. The moment you entered the home you two built, she ran to you. Worriedly telling you about what happened earlier with John; the man who had his way with the woman of your dreams while you sat back, and stroked your cock in the tiny cube your company had the guts to call an office.
The windows were spotlights. Her spotlight. The afternoon's sun painting her golden like her confession was some best selling novel instead of betrayal.
She had on fresh clothes. The clothes that probably smelled like their shared scent were gone. She probably burned them. Ridding you the chance to know how she smelled like getting fucked by a real man. Good riddance.
"I- I promise it was a mistake" she said that like she were begging. Begging you to hear her out. Begging you to stay. Begging you to stop making that unreadable face.
Begging you to stop being so far away from her like she was strapped with a bomb. But there was no bomb. Just remorse, and truth.
Your silence makes her go for broke. Leaping at you to close the gap in your relationship, making you crash against the door, ringing steel and oak that cuts through the peace of the apartment complex.
Dahyun buries her face on your neck, wetting it with her sob. Unable to look you straight in the eye as she pleads with skin, with warmth, with her lithe figure that she knows you know fit perfectly in your frame like a puzzle piece.
She was practically molding her flesh with your work clothes. Her thighs on yours. Head on your neck. Arms on your chest. And crotch on...
"John was a mistake. A mistake that..." Her sin gets stuck in her throat.
"A mistake that wont ever---" She backs her midriff off your crotch
"Wont ever----" The sentence dies off.
Your lungs deflate like Exodus as she suddenly grabs your cock.
Your eyebrows furrow, and you were about to scold her for thinking that sexual favor would get her out of this.
But you didn't. For her eyes held curiosity laced with accusation. She finally looks up at you, showing you puffed eyes. Peering like she studied the windows to your soul.
Then she looked down to what her hand felt. Hardness.
Her eyes narrow as she feels the outline of your member. The cogs in her brain start to work, and so does her hand. Tentatively pumping you in shallow closed-fist strokes.
"John... he- he used me."
Pulse
"Took advantage of me"
Pulse
"Baby... he made me cum..."
That was your limit, and your zipper knew it too, clinking. Faint. Struggling to contain what new length you've reached.
The remorse starts leaving her face. Replaced with shock. Each pulse, each truth your body revealed dropped her jaw lower. Discovering what pleasure you found from her sin.
You had nothing. Absolutely nothing. For you knew that your body spoke louder than whatever words you could put together.
Dahyun closes the gape in her mouth. And with calculated movement, she brings your hand to her face. Slowly. Akin to testing waters. Cupping it with closed eyes. Cupping it so dearly you'd think you were holy. She smells your knuckles. Her forehead wrinkles at the smell of fax machine ink and an honest day's work. Seconds entailed. Ones that she stretched. Pausing time so she could hear what truth pulses on your wrist.
The agony in her face had long since past, replaced with duty, and a determination you've only seen backstage when TWICE was still active.
Dahyun guides you to the bedroom. Getting on her knees to trek the duvet as she pulls you to lay.
No more words. No more tears. Just duty.
You've never seen your sweet little tofu like this before. The girl who giggled everytime you kissed her. Your pillow princess that always felt the need to ask permission to be the little spoon.
No.
This was a different girl.
Confident.
Evident by her spreading your legs so she could use your thigh as her seat.
She undoes your zipper. Taking her time with each tooth. Click, click, click.
With her off hand, she grabs your chin. Demanding your gaze as she fishes for your cock.
"Tell me how you feel... about your woman being taken"
You look away. Clinging to what pride you had left, until she uses her thumb to trace your crown. Practically purple. Longing for her touch ever since this afternoon.
Your face contorts to the friction of soft thumb on rigid flesh.
Yet. Still no reply on your end.
"Baby" she drags her manicure on your tender cock to get your attention. Making you hiss, and return her gaze, witnessing her knowing smirk.
"I promise never to do something like that ever again..." Dahyun said that like she didn't regret it, all the while taking her time to drag the soft of her hand across your length. From the very tip of your engorged head, to the deepest depth that the fat of your base allowed her to push down on. "but something tells me you don't want that..."
"That you don't want me to be your pure Tofu" stroke
"monogamous..." stroke
"only yours..." stroke
"You want to share me, dont you?"
You've been made. You cuck.
She revealed more of the afternoon to you in excruciating detail while jerking you off. As hot as it was, you can't help but shift expressions. From frustration of her soft handjob, to a face that's starting to realize that she didn't know about your front row seat via the doggy cam.
She picks up on that. You see it in her face. Doubt mixing with the fear of losing someone she loved... The same face she had finding out some members were leaving JYPE way back when.
So she doubles down. Stroking you with a close grip. Harder. Almost desperate. While the other hand kneads your balls.
āThis is still my favorite cock, Y/N oppa... Not John's who made me cum" your heart skips a beat
"Nor the landlord who lowers our rent... nor the janitors' who turn a blind eye for association dues..." full pause went your pulse.
This woman... not only did she admit further promiscuity, but she broke your word as a manāeffectively nulling your promise to pay for every single cent of this place.
Never in your wildest dreams nightmares did you think that your wallet would ever work together with your girlfriend's holes to pay for this place. The broken promise. The treachery.
Your guts tighten, tugging your dick to stand acute. Almost flat on your belly. To which her hand never disconnects from your cock.
She spent hours jerking you off as she spat molten words of treachery that should've pushed you out the door. Not cum like a fucking fire hose.
-----
Under the refuge of the night. You lay in bed. Still.
Sifting through her hair like it untangled your feelings. Your heartstrings play dissonant chords while you allow even the moon to touch your lady laying on top of you, painting silver trimmings on her body.
"Dahyun... I'm so lost..." you told the lady laying atop you. She finished drawing nothing on your chest by sealing it with a kiss. Dahyun looks up to meet your eyes. And finds your hand without even a glance. Cupping it. Locking it. Like a promise.
She waited. Savoring the seconds it took for your heart to settle.
"I'll guide you through this" she simply said.
You chose to believe her. As she had nothing but adoration behind those tight peepers of hers.
"Did... did you... really fuck the Janitors?... And the Landlord?..." you looked away. This was all too new for you after all. "Is that why they keep staring at your ass when you're not looking?"
She didn't answer that. Making you drop your gaze and see her blushing. Hiding behind balled fist.
"N-no... DO THEY REALLY CHECK ME OUT? I ONLY SAID THAT TO GET YOU TO CUM." she was nervously giggling.
"How did you even kn--"
She traps your query with a kiss.
"Because your heart spoke to me" and there she goes again replacing the sun with that smile. That wide one that makes her look like a bean.
She hits your chest "Yah. I am not a bean" Dahyun stays her hand. Feeling the thump of your heart.
She then lay the side of her head on your chest like every thump of it was a language only she could decipher...
"Baby?... I don't want YOU to pay for everything around here." she gets up on her elbows "I want US to pay for everything. Together."
You were about to go on another one of your spiels. 'I want to treat you like royalty' 'I want to keep my promise' this that and the other thing, to which she seals your rant with a finger on your lips. Stopping you before you could start.
She lifts her eyebrows. Hinting at the possibilities. You start putting two in two together.
"What were you thinking?" you asked. Your new-found fetish beating out your principles as a man.
"Well? Remember that promotion they didn't give you last week?" she shows that idol smirkāthe one you thought was reserved for freakishly spotting cameras, shining like it'll spot yet another. Soon. Very soon.
"You willing to bet your boss is a ONCE?"
--------------------------------
The next morning was like any other. Teeth brushed. Body bathed. Clothes picked out. But this time around? You were the one staying home, and she was the one going to the office.
"Okay baby, let's go through the plan one last time." you said as you helped her dry her hair.
She clears her throat. "My man" God, that phrase made your shoulders feel weightless. She smiled at that; you being all too easy to read.
"My man... THAT I LOVE... has been passed over for a promotion time and time again. And just last week, the position he's yearned for was filled by some outside hireāwho knows nothing about the company despite being an up and coming prodigy scouted by all the headhunters in Seoul---" you cut her off.
"Yeah, maybe don't remind my boss about the credentials I'm up agaisnt."
"Babe, do you really think your boss will notice a word when I'm wearing THIS?" she gets up and turns, letting her free-flowing skirt give you a flash of her white panties. Easily. It was practically a belt. It wasn't clothing, it was sexual harassment waiting to happen. And the idea of it stirs your loins.
"Can't forget about this, right babe?" she said, wearing glasses that reads RayBan at the side of the frame.
-------------------------------
You counted the minutes before she got back. She was late. And every second made you think of all the possible reasons as to why. An hour, maybe two, passed before she finally got home.
"MISSION COMPLETE, BABY" Dahyun ran to you in a hug, letting you smell her after-sweat mixing with someone else's perfume. Before you could let a word out, she leads you to the bedroom with tons of kisses on your face. She pushes you to sit on the bed while she navigates her phone to open up the Meta Glasses app. She hands you her phone and sits beside you so you could watch together.
"He was so easy to get hard. So so easy. So so fastā¦" Your boss's age comes to mind. And her words nibble at the feet of a brewing fear..
"He was so excited. So raw. With a cock barely bigger than my hands" her gentle words tie around your neck like a noose. Dahyun kept gnawing at your ear while her hands fiddle to press play.
Her heels click and clack the floors you've trudged through a million times already. The stains, the cracks, the dirt trapped between the lines that separates the tiles. Never did you think you'd view them through her eyes. Walking toward the goal of fucking another man to get you the promotion you claim you deserve.
It wasn't hard to distinguish where your boss's office was. Only a select few was valued in your company. And management made sure the difference between the likes of you and the likes of them were distinct. The upper management's offices all look the same. Heck, even the door. Everything seemed normal at this point.
Dahyun lets herself in to get a scope of the landscape. And you peer at the familiar room layout. Wide area, grand windows, carpeted floors, and a cherry wood table at the center of it all. Fat and scotch brown, adorning curves that didn't need to prove itself as fine craftsmanship.
'Wait a minute...' you thought.
Dahyun explores with slow curiosity. The camera panning with every turn of her head. This is truly the office layout of your dreams... too much like it, in fact....
The voice in your head gets interrupted by her shaky camera work
Dahyun gets on her tippy toes to sit atop the cherry wood table. She grabs the glasses and lets you see what your boss will see once he enters. All of her. Soft cotton long sleeves up top. And below? Practically nothing. Panties barely covered by her flowy skirt. Nothing else. Not even shame. "Let's hope he's a ONCE, baby"
Click went the door. Sounding like the pin of a grenade.
"Fuck." your boss said, followed by heels of shoes sounding faster and stronger and closer to your girl.
She bites her lips at the sight of him, while the glasses were still angled for you to see her instead of your boss.
A clearer background shows. And you notice the bookshelves, hollow. The walls, clearly repainted. The floors, all too clean for your boss's nervous pacings.
Your gut tells you something was wrong, but your cock blocks it out. Add Dahyun's hand tracing the pipe-shaped hardness behind your house shorts.
"I'm happy that that's your reac--mHPPh" he lunges, causing her to drops the glasses on the table, not letting you see anything past her hips up. Hips and thighs that your boss was already busy kneading. Mandhandling.
You didn't didn't need visuals to know that your boss was devouring your woman like he was trying to suck out her soul.
His lust was immediate, you could tell from the audio alone. You didnt need to see it. But God did you want to.
Dahyun kissed your cheek with equal frenzy as you tune into the video on her phone. "By the way? Your boss was ONCE." She smiled agaisnt your skin.
"What the hell is a ONCE." he said in a hurry. Then unbuckled his pants in a hurry. Spread your girlfriend's legs. In. A. Hurry. As he works his pants off, he crouches, finally revealing his face. Smug. Young. Definitely not your boss's. Your thumb presses pause so hard and so fast that you almost cracked the screen.
"BABY..." Your world flips. This wasn't your boss.
"bABY!... YOU FUCKED THE WRONG GUY... I TOLD YOU WHICH OFFICE RIGHT?!" you raised your voice in panic. You weren't mad. Maybe your cock was, sure, but you more so concerned. All her efforts poured down the drain.
"Yes you did... but your boss said that firing this clown would cost your company an arm. And promoting you would cost a leg. Baby I threw everything at your boss, but he said if he agreed to our terms, there would be no more company for you to supervise... so..."
"You made Keith quit"
She bites your earlobe softly. And she slowly drags her teeth away from it. "Exactly."
It made sense.
But sound logic didn't make you the stop feeling like shit.
Because first he took your promotion. And now, your girl.
Dahyun's smile twitched like she was fighting for it to not crook. Like she knew this twist would make this sweet all the more bitter. More interesting.
With deft hands, she resumes the video and takes off your shorts and boxers. Fast. Scrunching, and scratching courtesy of her manicure. The one she told you she had gotten done so she looks prettier for your boss. A treat reaped by the man you hate the most in the office.
"Ooh myyy, babyyy" she purred. Seeing your cock. So wet and fat and constantly streaming precum. Begging for attention. She moaned with every bead of arousal you leaked. "Ooohhh my my my~"
You were about to whine with how she merely stared at your erect cock, until she looks back at the video.
Dahyun strokes Keith's cock. Harder and harder she went. Not because he was hotāhe was. This wunderkind doesn't shut up about his gym sessionsābut because he was... not gifted... Her strokes were not ones to please a lover. No. It goading. And expectant. Like she was demanding more, but was far too polite to ask 'this was it?' outright.
Like on queue, she palms your heated balls with her frigid hands. Dragging up and down on sync with the way she gave Keith a handjob. She palmed you so hard that your cock stuck to your belly. So hard that your pubes tugged and hitched and "Fuckkk"
She treated your words like the gun that starts a race. Making a fucking mess on your cock. Her fist closed around your tip and recklessly spread friction and precum all across your shaft. Up and down. She abandons video Dahyun's pace. Her handjob rung squelch noises across the room. Each stroke more uncaring of the filth she's making than the last.
You notice her eyes peeking sideways, checking the video yet again.
"Mmmhh now the nipples, slut"
Your blood burns at his derogation, but it reaches boiling point once she follows his instruction.
Both in the video. And onto you.
Keith was tall. Taller than you. So Dahyun didn't need to hunch so awkwardly to have her tongue play with his hairy nipples, all the while the love of your life never forgot to keep jerking this jerk's cock.
Actions she bring to life by making you experience it first hand.
"NnGHHHH" came your whining, as this was your first time with this sensation. You felt so sensitive. Your flesh crawls into goosebumps. Your short hairs stand as your Dubu introduces you to a new realm of pleasure thanks to your rival Keith.
Keith... Your mind was blendered at this point. Brain stem tugged at every which way. Not knowing if you should thank the rat bastard or shove his ass to the ground. Your eyes cross. But here goes the video again pulling you back to Earth.
Slap slap slap slap slap went his cock on her entrance. Giving you a hint of how wet the both of them were. Your girl, and your rival.
She gets on top of you like a good cowgirl. Slowly descending. Your wetness mixing with hers as you part her innie pussy. She moans. And your lungs rattle anger. For right now, she sounded exactly like she did in the video. Hinting that her satisfaction with you only equaled her satisfaction with Keith.
"Can you feel it?" once fully bottomed out, she rocks her hips in small circles. "Can you feel the indentation his cock left inside me?"
"Feel it baby, feel how much deeper you can reach compared to his crooked cock" she fucking worshipped your length, but the face she made said otherwise. Her legs quiver with hardship as she ascends.
"Feel the details of his cock etched into me... Feel how... You're bigger. And yet he STILL got to fuck me." she slammed herself down. Your balls hitting her thick tofu thighs.
Keith had the upper hand, for in the video, your girl was letting him rut and rut and rut like a fucking dog burying a bone.
She ascends yet again.
"Totally not embarrassing, right?" slam, then up again
"That someone so inferior is treating me like you would" slam.
"Or maybe, like John would" that was the last straw. Before the former TWICE member could slam back down, you hold the swell of her hip to stop her. And you fucking impale your cock inside her.
She moaned.
Or at least she tried.
For all she could procure was a soundless scream as you claim her.
"Like I would" you reaffirm. Accepting that John absolutely wrecked your girl yesteday. It lit a fire inside you. A fire that aims to to cauterize John's indelible name off her mouth.
You angle, making sure that you pierce that 'indent' that she claims Keith left. "Keep those legs steady baby" you said through grit teeth, as you rub and rub and rub Keith's claim in her insides.
Her cries of pleasure bounce off the walls of your room, drowning out the sounds of Keith railing your beloved.
"MY LEGS ARE ON FIRE" she screamed. And she was right. You see her legs spasming as they were hooked on Keith's elbow and shoulder.
"THEY WERE. THEY REALLY WERE, BABY, I'M SO SORR--" her legs give out, the sear of lactic acid on her thighs and quads were all too much, causing her to spear herself on your cock. The unguided descent made her spine quake like it threatened to crumble, as your cock threatened to pierce her cervix right through.
While you? Your heart tinged. For her legs had strength for Keith, but only enough for Keith. Like he had drained her strength and left you with nothing.
That didn't sit right with you, so without undoing your connection, you flip her. Missionary, like in the video. Two can play this game. You place the phone next to her head and you roll your hips like you've never before. Exploring her sex like you've never before. Making her pleasure your mission like you've never before.
Your ass cheeks tighten with the way you hoist every enter. Digging through her floor and ending it with a cock flat on her cervix. "nnGHH, NNGHHH"
Your exits weren't reprieve, they were extensions of your intention. To pleasure. To love. To mark every inch of her sex like you were branding her. Rather than pulling back, you were widening your legs. Squishing her perineum using your base. Physics did the work, as the cramped hole caused your cock to scrape her roof. "FUCKK"
Dahyun cussed with your every repeating motion. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK."
"I'M YOUR MAN, KIM DAHYUN" you said that like she didn't know. Like you didn't say it every time you bed her. You were right to do so though, as this pottymouth wasn't the same Catholic woman you fell for. And you made sure to introduce your new self to her new self.
"fUCK... FUCK FUCK FUUh----" her insides shut around you so tight that it felt like she's squeezing you out. Making you pump all that much harder. The noises she made weren't hers anymore. It was satisfying violence. Like glass shattering. Similar to the image you thought you've accurately painted of her.
She gripped the sheets at first, then the pillows, then the headboard. Anything to root her onto reality. Her hands looked like they were swatting the air violently, unknowing what to use as an anchorāfor each of your hurried thrusts caused beautiful ripples onto her pudgy white thighs. Heavenly turbulent.
"H- H- H- " she had nothing left but tentative huffs of air rid of profanities, saving her breath to stay conscious. "Where, baby?
"Where can I cum?"
"Where can I cum?"
You ask the same question as the phone. Making you finally look up at it again after what felt like hours of rutting your girl.
Dahyun puts a hand on Keith's defined abs to stop his pumpings.
An action she mimics on your less-chiseled tummy. The only difference was her face... or rather... mask...
In the video, she had on the same mask she wore yesterday. You remember, right? The mask she wore as John turned her into his toy. One of concern, but with eyes so epicly dilated that its curving into hearts.
But you weren't Keith. So you hold her down. And ;ock her hips around your waist, so you can freely piston her to chase your ending. Your panting mixed with laughter cause you are a petty petty man. You wanted to experience something Keith never will.
You were almost there "I'm gONNA fUCKING PAINT YOUR INSIDES KIM DAHY--"
"w-WAIT!" you heard her video self protest, to which Keith replies by swatting your girlfriend's hand away and grab her hips. Same as you were doing right now, but without warning. Without the need to verbalize your claim on her body. There was no pettiness. He just took what he wanted the same way he did your job. Rocking his hips as he deposits his seed deep inside your Kim Dahyun.
His conservative length led to his cum leaking out so easily. So fast. You mightve wanted to paint her insides, but Keith? Keith painted her thighs with the way his spunk dripped down on them. Like some sick perk of having a small cock.
That visual didn't push you off the edge, it SHOVED you to oblivion. Straining your balls so hard that the line between pain and pleasure began to fade, and you cum ropes, strings, and fireworks inside your girlfriend. Cock pressing hard to push inside her limit. Until her insides tell you that this was as deep as her biology went. Cock pressing like you're coping that 'at least Keith's small cock never got to taste her womb.'
But you knew.
You knew that you'll have to 'experience something Keith never will' another day. Cause tonight, you are on equal footing with himācreampie-ing the love of your life. Despite how much longer your cock was.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The video ends. Frozen at the last frame.
The room only sounds chased breaths.
You still had your softening cock deep inside her. Locking your offsprings in this former idol.
Dahyun had on the most whimsical face. Proud. And satisfied. Like she asked for everything and got everything.
None of the footages ever showed this. All of her snow white self in the most wrecked of ways. Hands up. Sweat shining sheens on her pits and tits and tummy and oh God you've never seen her look so willingly vulnerable. Unguarded, by choice. To you. And only you.
You feel butterflies mob your stomach. Like this was the first time you've seen Kim Dahyun. The real Kim Dahyun.
With locked hips, you bend down. Gently. Shy. Like this was the first time you two ever had sex. First time to have her face to face. Your lips travel around. Chin, cheek, temple, forehead.
She giggles at the suddenly shy stance that her stud took tonight. So she takes initiative. Grabbing you by the shoulders and kissing you to seal the night.
Your slumber had tough competition tonight.
For this Dahyun was surreal reality. One that you never knew you dreamed of.
I wrote this a lot longer than my past smuts since I feel like I owe that to all the people whoāafter all this timeāare STILL waiting for part 2š¤£
TMI: I was actually on the heels of doing something so irritatingly convoluted and complex until I realized that I should erase everything and write something that would satisfy me, not scrutiny.
I hope this was worth the 2 years, 10 weeks, and 2 days wait!
P.S. Thank you for all the words and all the "definitely not cucks" in my inbox. The words you left thereāalthough never replied toātruly did make a difference upon writing this piece.
Jae was again awake in the middle of the night; it was becoming common. He would wake up and find it impossible to get back to sleep without at least getting himself a drink of water. The hard-on he awoke with also suggested he might need to relieve himself in their master bathroom before he rejoined his wife in bed.
He quietly rolled off the bed and threw on his robe. The forty-three year old didn't bother to close it because, frankly, nobody would be awake and it was his damn house - he could walk around naked if he pleased. It was a bit of a funny sight, Jae thought, looking down at his erection as it stood proudly between the flaps of the white robe. He knew he had little to worry about in the size department. His wife certainly didn't complain, not that she'd slept with him in over a month.
That was probably what had him waking up almost every night. His wife always seemed to find an excuse not to have sex, and Jae was tiring of being rejected. Until he figured out what was wrong, a quick jerk would have to do, and he'd be able to fall back asleep, somewhat satisfied. He tried not to allow the thought that someone in his wife's tennis club was taking his spot in bed, but it wouldn't have surprised him all that much.
Jae closed the door behind him silently and sidled out into the hall. Everybody else would be fast asleep. His daughter Da-ah was in her junior year of college; her door was closed and 300 miles away until the summer. Jinwoo, his twenty-three-year-old son, stayed home for a while as he saved money to move out on his own. The boy slept like a rock and could be heard snoring through his half-open door.
The room before the stairs was Wonyoung's, his youngest daughter, and the bright spot in his life. Jae's dark-haired teenager took after her mother, thankfully only in her looks. She also played tennis in high school and competed at a pretty high level. Jae loved Wonyoung with all his heart and spoiled her every chance. On her eighteenth birthday a few weeks ago, he'd bought her a costly tennis racket and made her swear not to tell her mother. Wonyoung readily agreed, holding the racquet against her chest and squeezing it tight as promised.
At an age when most of her friends complained about their fathers, how strict they were, or the intolerable grounding they had to endure, Wonyoung felt completely contrary. Every minute she could, she spent with her dad. She tried to take an interest in the things he liked: cars, electronics, and such. And he did such a fantastic job being a part of her interests that many of her friends were jealous that her dad spent so much time with her.
But Jae worried about Wonyoung sometimes. His daughter was getting prettier and prettier every day, and she didn't seem to understand how that changed how men and boys looked at her. Her older sister Da-ah certainly didn't set a great example, and now some of the outfits that Da-ah brought home from college were also starting to show up in Wonyoung's repertoire.
His teenage daughter was 5'8" with black hair and big brown eyes. Tennis had slimmed her body, and her affinity for lying out in the backyard had tanned her skin wonderfully, despite his protests for her to take it easy. From all the times he'd carried her to bed at night, he knew she weighed less than 100 lbs. When he started to worry about her was a few years ago when her breasts developed. Now she was sporting a C-cup, even larger than her mother's and impossible not to notice. Since she'd begun imitating her older sister, the tight cotton tank tops and V-necks constantly reminded him that he should keep his eye on her.
Not that he mindedā¦ as Jae reached the bottom of the stairs he realized all the thoughts of his baby had made his cock grow to its full length. He needed a glass of milk, a cookie or two, and then maybe a hot shower while he took care of his not-so-little problem. He'd try his hardest not to think of Wonyoung while he stroked, but knew from experience that it wasn't such an easy feat.
They were very close, Wonyoung and her father. Though he didn't like to admit it, Wonyoung had been a source of comfort while the intimacy with his wife had been dying down. Having his beautiful daughter snuggled up to him on the couch as they watched TV or shared a long conversation about nothing during a car ride made things far easier, and he loved her for it. If only Wonyoung shared his bed every night, he'd have a perfect relationship. The thought of Wonyoung in place of his wife, making love to herā¦Jae shivered.
From time to time, there was tension between Jae and his teenage daughter. He prayed that Wonyoung didn't see it as sexual, but he knew better. Just last week, she had been lying with him on the couch wearing very little. He'd tried to explain to her why she shouldn't wear clothing like that, but it was more difficult to say so without telling the innocent little brunette that it was he she had to be more decent around.
Her tube socks that day, a tiny pair of cotton shorts, and a shirt that, no matter how many times he tried to fix, kept slipping down over her shoulder and dominated his thoughts as they watched TV together. The exposed skin was already too much for him, but when Wonyoung had tried to move around on the couch, she had unknowingly brushed her hand right against his crotch. It was enough to make his cock jump to attention and, terrified that his daughter would discover it, he abruptly got up and walked out of the room. Even when he returned, he had to keep his daughter at a distance, though she quickly tried to cuddle up with him without the slightest concern for how she might be affecting him.
Sometimes his affection and the resulting thoughts he had about his teenager made him feel guilty. But Jae felt turned on when a pretty cashier touched his hand as they exchanged bills, or he heard a sexy voice on the phone; he resolved to stop beating himself up over it. Occasionally, his mind was going to places he hadn't asked it to, like right now when he remembered his daughter in her bathing suit as he passed it hanging on the railing to dry. God, did she have an unbelievable body, if only he could get his hands on herā¦ all over herā¦ He buried the thought and reminded himself that his cock was thinking for him at the moment. He reasoned that he'd probably hump a wall in his state right then.
To Wonyoung, her father was also the best part of her day. He just understood her better than everyone else. Despite what he said, everyone in the family knew she was his favorite. He never seemed to yell at her like he did with her other two siblings. Especially Jinwoo, they sometimes got in some screaming matches that scared her.
Her dad was a big and strong man, with hair that showed just a hint of gray with his age. All her friends swooned over him. Whenever they knew her dad would be around, her friends always seemed to put extra care into their appearance. Wonyoung frequently had to endure her friends flirting with her father or bending over at the car window when he came to pick her up so he could see down their shirts.
"Hi, Mr. Jang," they'd say in a sing-songy voice. Especially Yujin! Though she was Wonyoung's best friend, Yujin always turned gaga whenever Wonyoung's father was around.
"He's hot, Wonyoung. Any one of us would love to have him all over us like he is with you. Get over it!" Yujin would say whenever Wonyoung complained.
Wonyoung didn't ever agree out loud, but there was no denying some of the things they said. Of course, she knew he was a good-looking man; she was the one who spent so much time around him. He had a broad chest, and she could feel it when she laid her hand and head against him on the couch at night. He worked out often, and she knew that because he would chase her around the house when he came home, all gross and sweaty from the gym. His handsome face did little to reveal his age: forty-three with the spirit of a younger man.
He was the only boy, wellā¦ man, who gave her attention simply because he loved her. The boys at school only came near her when they were trying to touch her butt or put their hands on her boobs. Even her male teachers would leer at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Ughā¦ she often came home and ran to her daddy's arms to feel something real for once.
Wonyoung was a good girl and daughter, but her friends' words sometimes made her thinkā¦ Every once in a while, she noticed her dad looking at her lovingly, making her feel tingly. She didn't mind having his eyes on her, though perhaps she should have, and occasionally she sought it out by wearing things that she thought made her look sexy or even a little slutty. She hoped her father didn't think less of her for it, but sometimes she just couldn't help around him.
That night, Wonyoung had stayed up late binge-watching a TV show on her computer. Hours after everyone had gone to sleep, she was still awake. A racy scene in the show made her fingers practically guide themselves under the covers to her panties. It wasn't very graphic, but as she heard the female character panting and watched the couple having 'sex' on screen, she knew she was getting turned on.
Wonyoung had never had sex before, and she didn't think she'd know how to properly. The pretty brunette had only ever kissed a boy, and she let one other touch her breasts over her shirt. But both boys had turned into super-jerks shortly afterward, telling everyone about their accomplishments with Wonyoung and making her the talk of the rumor mill at school for a few days each time. Of course, her father had been there to make her feel better when she got home, but she'd decided to keep boys her age at a distance since then.
So as Wonyoung's fingers found her panty-line and pried underneath, she did so without much knowledge of how to make herself feel good. A couple times, when she was turned on, Wonyoung had been able to rub the outside of her pussy until she had a short but rewarding orgasm. Last week, she had done so after a long night of cuddling with her dad, and had felt guilty afterwards knowing that he had played a part in her arousal. This time, after she had tried unsuccessfully for a few minutes, Wonyoung decided to try something new.
Yujin had told her that she should try using a vegetable. Wonyoung knew that was how sex worked, but for a long time she had felt guilty even touching herself, let alone sticking one of her mom's cucumbers up there! But now she was just too horny and very curious so she decided to take a look in the fridge.
The cute brunette walked on tiptoes to her door and opened it as quietly as possible. She wore a pair of cotton underwear when she'd gone to bed, but she had pushed them off in her heated frustration. Now all she had on was a white cotton tank-top, and though she considered going back to her bed to find her panties, Wonyoung felt sure she would be alone for as long as it took to get to the kitchen and back.
So she closed the bedroom door behind her and tiptoed down the stairs toward the kitchen. Wonyoung listened closely to the quiet of the house and, hearing nothing, went as quickly as possible to the fridge. It was dark in the house, with only the light from the clock on the microwave to illuminate the nearby space. Wonyoung almost knocked a vase to the ground, but steadied it before it fell.
'Phew,' she thought, shivering with a little chill as she felt the cool night air on her naked bottom. She had been so wet that her inner thighs were damp; had thinking about her daddy made her so horny like that? Wonyoung didn't always feel guilty when her father entered her thoughts inappropriately. Occasionally, she told herself that fantasizing about him wasn't wrong; she couldn't act out her thoughts. Plus, there was no way her father would ever reciprocate, even if she wanted him to.
Her little pussy felt even colder when she bent over to look in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. From behind the tiny brunette would have looked incredible, her legs held together and bending at the waist, naked bottom and her cute, bare pussy where anyone could see.
Still groggy as he walked down the stairs, Jae rubbed his eyes and yawned. But no matter how tired he felt, Jae knew he'd have trouble sleeping until he carried out this frustrating nighttime routine. He barely opened his eyes, knowing the house backwards and forwards as he did. When he finally came to the fridge, it didn't appear odd that it was already open. He was half awake and only had one thing on his mind: to take a big swig directly from the milk carton like his wife hated. Jae simply grabbed the handle of the open fridge and swung himself around it lazily, precisely the way he scolded his son for, to get a look inside.
Wonyoung was rummaging deep in the drawer when her fingers finally found what she was looking for, it was the perfectly sizedā¦ ughhhHHH
Bent at the waist the way Wonyoung was, her tiny young pussy couldn't have been in a more perfect spot.
As her father came around with one hand on the door and the other rubbing an eye, his erection couldn't have pointed any more directly.
He hadn't seen her thereā¦ he hadn't been looking for anyone there, but as soon as Jae's feet squared off toward the open fridge, he felt her. There was no mistaking that he had just come to a halt with his cockhead securely inside a wonderfully warm and tight pussy.
"Ouuuuuuwwwahhhhā¦" Wonyoung whined. She couldn't make sense of what had just happened and couldn't form words to protest. One second, she was searching in the fridge, and the next, she felt very intense pressure from the very spot she had been touching minutes ago. She could feel pain there, too, and it had happened all at once.
Jae's mind was still foggy, and the sudden change in sensation to his hard member made him throb, and his mind lost its place in time. The very intimate position in which he now found himself made him assume he simply hadn't checked to see if his wife was asleep when he got out of bed, and now he was finally getting the relief she'd deprived him of.
He hadn't been inside her in far too long, and seeing that she had yet to complain about the surprise sex, he made an impulsive decision to give in to his desires. Jae reached down and wrapped his hands around her bare hips; it wasn't like her to sleep bottomless, or with the sexy little tank top she now wore, but he wasn't going to complain. With a gentle push of his hips, Jae sank further into her.
"Noooooā¦owwwfuuuuck!" Wonyoung cried.
"Bab,y pleaseā¦it was an accident, I promiseā¦but we haven't had sex in weeks." Jae pleaded
Wonyoung froze, her father could feel her go stiff through his palms, which were needily feeling her hips and tiny butt. Suddenly, she realized what had happened. Her father had accidentally put his penis inside her and now he thought Wonyoung was her mother. What's worse, Wonyoung could feel that her little pussy was so wet her father had slid into it easily.
She didn't know what to say. Her father had paused after pleading to continue, and Wonyoung was speechless. When she had been quiet for a few seconds, still bent over with her hair obscuring her face from his view, Jae took her silence as enough consent for him to finish his plunge into her.
"Nooooā¦ stoppp," Wonyoung begged. Her father only did so when he'd sunk his entire cock into his daughter's young sheath. She felt so tight bent over like that; Jae made a mental note to fuck her in this position more often.
"But honeyā¦ You feel so goodā¦ I'll be quick, I promise." Jae continued. He was nearly buried in her. Hoping to convince her to submit, Jae pushed hard against her backside and forced his head to seek just a bit deeper.
Wonyoung felt him shove further and her untouched pussy throbbed with pain and unknown feelings as a result of being stuffed full of her daddy's cock.
Jae had only been half listening. The broken words coming out of her mouth hadn't registered, but the unfamiliar tightness of her pussy and the smaller, more toned nature of her backside was further confusing his addled brain. Jae withdrew his cock from his daughter's tight quim and was about to penetrate her for the second time when he heard:
"No daddy, pleaaassse!" Wonyoung muttered, her voice betrayed by the feelings her father's cock was causing her. "You can't, Daddyā¦ It's meā¦ your daughter."
Jae heard her this time, but he couldn't have heard right. Then again, something hadn't felt quite right when he first entered her, and her skin was smoother, her body more youthful. He reached down, palming the vicinity of Wonyoung's breast and lifting her upright so he could see her face. He didn't dare remove himself from inside of her; he couldn't bring himself to do so, regardless of the truth.
He hadn't misheard her. As he lifted his teenage daughter so that her hair fell around her shoulders, he recognized her face immediately. Suddenly the fact that her pussy had felt twenty years younger and her body more lean and seductive made sense. He had, only in unspoken fantasies, imagined what it would be like to make love to his beautiful daughter. Now, in the lone light of the open refrigerator, he was mistakenly penetrating her as he'd only dreamed.
Jae had stopped pulling out of her so that his tip now pulsed with excitement just beyond her pink lips. Wonyoung could feel her daddy there, a wider part of his manhood holding her quim open to him. She prayed he would remove himself and then explain to her, as he always did, that everything would be okay.
With his hand upon Wonyoung's pert breast and his other on her naked hip, it simply wasn't an option to stop. He was already committing incest. Jae had been buried inside his little eighteen-year-old once; what difference did it make in doing so again? Holding tight to his baby girl, he buried his waiting cock in one slow but steady thrust.
"MMmmmmphhā¦ no Daddy, no!" Wonyoung pleaded as she felt her father fucking her again. "Daddy, I'm a virgin, you have to stopā¦ooouuuuw!"
"Oh Wonyoung, Daddy didn't mean toā¦ ughhh," he sighed as his pelvis once again met his daughter's petite backside, "it was an accident babyā¦ I didn'tā¦ ughhhā¦ see you there."
Wonyoung felt her father pull out halfway and then shove back into her as he spoke. Jae knew what he was doing was wrong, but his morals were being battled by the warm entrenchment of his rod inside Wonyoung's teen pussy.
"It's okay, Daddyā¦ I know you didn't mean to, but you have take your penis out of meā¦ mmmhhā¦ before you take my virginity."
Jae looked down between them at where his cock was halfway inside Wonyoung. He could see a small amount of blood from when he'd first encountered resistance at his daughter's hymen. Her years of tennis had probably made it so her cherry wasn't entirely obstructing her entrance, but there was no doubt that when he'd first entered her, he had taken his youngest daughter's virginity.
"Honey, you aren't a virgin anymore now," he told her definitively. He let the words sink in and couldn't help himself moving as slowly and imperceptibly as possible so he could feel the walls of Wonyoung's unclaimed pussy stimulating his cock.
Wonyoung cooed, she could feel her daddy's penis still moving inside her, "Oh no Daddyā¦ did you take my virginity, are you sure?"
"Yes, baby, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
The evidence of Wonyoung's virginity wasn't the only thing that Jae had noticed as he looked down at their incestuous connection. It was also hard to miss that his pretty teenager was soaking wet. Her juices had coated his rod thoroughly and were dripping down around his full balls. The realization surprised him and again he thrust upward into Wonyoung's quim in lust.
"If you're sorry dadā¦ oooouummphā¦ why do you keep fucking me? You're cock is too big daddyā¦ooooooā¦ it hurts me"
Her father was surprised to hear Wonyoung say those dirty words, but far from chastising her. Jae was getting less and less subtle about continuing to chase the pleasure his tiny daughter's quim was giving him.
"Wonyoung, your little pussy makes my cock feel very goodā¦ ohhhā¦ it won't hurt as much if I just fuck you a little more honey" his hips slapped against her buttocks and Wonyoung could feel her father prodding her deep enough to encounter resistance inside her.
His hands started to wander around Wonyoung's chest. The friction his fingers were causing by rubbing his fingers over her nipple with the cotton tank top between made her shiver involuntarily.
"But you can put your thing in mommy's pussyā¦ ohhh shiiiitā¦ You can't put it in mine. You could get me pregnant, Daddy!"
Jae stood his daughter up straight and slid his hand from her hip to the hem of her shirt. He didn't want to ignore the pleading of his baby girl; he hadn't even dreamt of deflowering her. But now that he had, Jae couldn't help himself. He could still feel his daughter's opening leaking with desire, and it gave him hope that he might win her over.
"Your mom doesn't let me anymore honey, and you are so much more beautiful than she isā¦" he told her truthfully, "you can only get pregnant if I cum inside you honeyā¦ ouhhhhā¦ I promise I won't!"
Wonyoung felt him shoving his big cock into her again. She'd lost count of how many times he'd plunged into her now, but she was tingling from the inside out between that and the sweet compliment he'd paid her.
She could feel her father's hands getting bolder. One of them had found its way under her shirt and was moving its way up her flat stomach to her boobies. When he reached there, he hesitated with his thumb and forefinger, making a half-circle under her breast. As Wonyoung held her breath she felt her father move his hand so he was cupping her tit fully and testing its weight. Finally, he took her nipple between his fingers and squeezed gently; Wonyoung mewwed in response.
"Oh God, Daddyā¦" Wonyoung moaned as she felt her father urging his cock in and out of her.
She felt bad for him that her mother had not allowed her wonderful father any relief for many weeks. He was desperate enough to seek it from his daughter, though he may have mistakenly done so initially.
As Wonyoung's father was fucking her as gently as he could stand from behind, she could feel the shock and pain of losing her virginity to her father begin to subside just as he had promised. It was being replaced by something she had never felt before: a building pressure each time her father sank into her.
"Mnnnhhhā¦ what if someone seesā¦ unnnhhhā¦" Wonyoung complained, "you should stop now, you shouldn't fuck me anymore daddyā¦ oooumpphā¦" No matter what she said, Wonyoung's pussy was drenched and her moans indicated to her father that if he continued she was going to experience her first orgasm by penetration.
His hands were roaming around, one on her tit and the other massaging the soft flesh around her hip. Her daddy was manhandling her, much different from how he usually held her as they fell asleep watching TV.
Twenty minutes ago, her father had crossed her mind more than once as she touched herself in the quiet darkness of her room. She had been thinking of him when she reached into the vegetable drawer in the fridge. She'd wondered what vegetable would be most similar to her father. Now that he was fucking her, she was pretty sure that nothing in the fridge was large enough to match him.
Wonyoung knew it was wrong; she knew she should push her father off and stop the incest they were committing right away. Why did she stay? Wonyoung wondered what her friend Yujin would say. She was always talking about how hot her daddy was and how bad she wanted him. Did Wonyoung want him too? Is that why she was starting to excitedly anticipate each time his cock would again be snugly thrust inside of her after withdrawal?
"Fuck daddy! You're cock is hugeā¦" he was increasing the vigor of his thrusts, grasping her hip tightly and making sure he was into her before pulling back out. "Be careful dad pleaseā¦ unnhhhhā¦ it hurts more when you fuck me harder!"
"Is this okay, baby?" Jae asked his daughter. He slowed down the pace but still savored the feeling of filling the tiny brunette completely again and again.
"Yes daaaadā¦ uhhhh uhhhhā¦ that feels much better."
He was surprised to hear his little girl finally yielding, and her wet pink pussy was still easing his repeated entry. The sounds of the house were always soothing to Jae: the drone of the fridge compressor, the click of the air conditioner turning on, or the breathing of his sleeping family. But the sounds coming from his teenage daughter were more wonderful to him than anything he'd ever heardā¦ her labored breathsā¦ the swishing of her tight pussy as it accepted his pistoning cock and the quiet whimpering as she felt a man's cock inside her for the first time.
Jae had been there for all of Wonyoung's firsts: her first steps, her first words, her first day at school. He'd held her when she got hurt or when she got a bad grade or whenever he felt his wife was being too harsh with his little girl. He had been there for Wonyoung's first break-up, even when she bought her first bra. Now Jae was always going to be his daughter's first time with a man, and the knowledge that he was claiming her bare, untouched pussy by reaching places with each thrust into her that no man had ever been beforeā¦ the truth of it was the amazing beyond words.
For years, he'd looked on as Wonyoung became the beautiful girl she was today. In the dressing room, she'd asked how multiple bras looked when he took her to the mall to try them on. He shouldn't have been looking at his young daughter, but with her perfect globes nestled inside the supportive cups, even then, her body was a sight to behold. The thought that she would become such a gorgeous young daughter scared himā¦ He loved her completely, beyond compare, and only dreamed that a man would be deserving enough to have her someday.
Now as he looked down, the dimples in her back where he'd pushed up her shirt and curve of her hipsā¦ he gaspedā¦ he couldn't believe he was the man fucking his daughter.
"Ohhh fuckā¦ Daddy keep fucking meā¦ ohgodā¦" she was forgetting to resist now, "you feel so good in my pussy dad."
Jae had felt so guilty when he realized for sure that it was his daughter whom he'd buried his cock into. Even more so when he discovered that he'd taken her virginity as well. But nowā¦ now that she was asking him to continue.. she wanted him to keep fucking herā¦
Jae established a good rhythm and could feel his little girl leaning backward to help him. In short order, he could tell that his teenage daughter was going to have an orgasm. She was breathing more heavily, crying out more needily.
"Ohh fuckā¦ I feel strangeā¦ ouuuhhhā¦ wai,t Daddyā¦ hold onā¦"
But Jae knew what to do, and soon his little girl would be cumming on his cock just the way he wanted her to. He continued to push into her folds and prod her deep within.
"Ohh fuckkkā¦ oh Daaadā¦ "
Wonyoung's knees went weak. Her father supported her while continuing his unrelenting thrusts into her pussy. Her mind was suddenly white, and she felt pins and needles in all of her extremities. She howled
"Ohhhhhh Daaaaaaaaddyyyy."
It was like nothing Wonyoung had ever felt before. Her father had shoved into her and stayed there as she rode out her newly discovered orgasm. She felt so incredibly full. Her body seemed to conduct electricity through thin wires stretching from her fingers to the tips of her toes and all leading back to the apex point of pleasure behind her eyes.
Jae's cock throbbed as his little girl curled her toes against the hardwood floor and reached back clumsily for some kind of hold on him. He loved watching his daughter climax and simply savored the sight of her quaking in front of him, not to mention the way her virgin walls were clenching him as she did. Though her father's cock fit perfectly inside Wonyoung, she was even wetter than before and her juices were dripping from within her.
For the first time, Jae decided to remove himself from his daughter's drenched tunnel. She stood, but only with the support her father gave her. He turned Wonyoung towards him, her head hung low. With a finger at her chin, Jae lifted his daughter's head to look into her eyes.
She looked so pretty, a light sheen of sweat on her brow and flushed cheeks. Wonyoung kept her eyes closed for a moment, but they weren't angry when she finally opened them. They weren't hurt or sad or anything he had expected. Wonyoung had pleaded with him to stop, but as she came back to the world from an earth-shaking orgasm, Wonyoung was glad her father had kept fucking her.
She only looked a little embarrassed, like she hadn't expected to see so much pleasure from having her virginity taken by her father.
"I love you, baby," he told her.
Wonyoung looked at him closely, her big brown eyes holding his gaze for long enough that he was desperate to know what she was thinking.
"I love you, too, Dad."
He kissed her on the cheek, right next to her lips, and lingered there. Wonyoung felt him hesitate and brought her lips close enough to kiss him. Simultaneously, they closed the gap between them and brought their mouths together. Wonyoung kissed her father hungrily, thanking him for the beautiful feelings he'd shown her.
Each peck, each explorative placement of his lips on hers, Wonyoung understood why she wasn't upset with her daddy for continuing to fuck her when he did. Wonyoung's friends seemed to love her father and didn't know him half as well as she did. He was the best father a girl could have, and he was handsome to boot. So many times she had thought of him, alone in her bed at night, but she didn't ever know how he could make her feel. The tingling surface of her skin and her sensitive pussy was more than she had ever dreamt of. Now that she had the chance, why shouldn't she willingly accept her father? Nobody had to knowā¦ Wonyoung shivered at the taboo thoughts.
Their tongues darted out to meet each other. Wonyoung didn't have much experience kissing boys, but she loved kissing and making out with her dad. Jae felt like a teenager again and found his hands moving of their own volition to feel the tiny frame of the teenager in his arms. He wanted to be inside her again, but only if she chose to this time.
When her father's hands once again found her perky breasts under the shirt, Wonyoung knew he wanted her to take it off. She readily lifted her arms above her head, surprising her father with her willingness. He quickly obliged her, pulling the shirt off and revealing her young tits to him.
God, she was so gorgeous and irresistible, and her breasts were more prominent and shapelier than her mother's. Jae put his hands on her, and Wonyoung watched closely as they roamed all over her.
"You're so beautiful, Wonyoung," he told her, "and you made me feel wonderful, honey."
As Wonyoung was looking down she caught a glimpse of her father's cock again. It WAS large, and it was silvery with all the wetness she must have covered him in. It was sticking straight upward, and she could feel it bobbing against her leg at a pace that must have been his heartbeat.
"Why is it still so big, Dad?"
"Because I am so turned on looking at you. I'm thinking about making love to you, sweetheart."
Wonyoung shrugged with embarrassment. In doing so, she looked adorable, and her teardrop breasts shook with the motion of her shoulders.
"You want to fuck me again don't you daddy?"
Jae felt guilty. Hearing the naughty words from his little girl's mouth made the deed very real. Still, he shook his head, 'Yes.'
Wonyoung may have been inexperienced, but she knew how dangerous it would be for them to have sex again. In class at her high school, the book showed her how to find out when her period would come and when she was most likely to become pregnant. If she was doing it right, she was right at the best time for her daddy's sperm to find her egg and make her pregnant. And the book had also said always to use protection, like a condom or birth control, and she wasn't using either one.
"What if I just put my mouth on it?" Wonyoung suggested. She felt his penis throb perceptively when she did.
"You like that idea, don't you, Daddy?"
Wonyoung proceeded to get down on her knees and gingerly take her father's erection in her hand. She could still feel her stickiness on him, and she knew more was coming from deep within her.
Wonyoung tested the head of his cock at her lips, looking up at him with her pretty eyes and hoping she did a good job. Slowly she opened her mouth and took in the head of her cock. She sucked on it gently, not minding at all that she could taste herself on him.
The little brunette tried to emulate what her father might have felt when he had his big penis inside of her; she encircled his shaft with both hands and moved them up and down while she lapped at his tip. Her father moaned.
"Oh, honey, you're doing wonderful," he said as he tossed his head back.
Wonyoung sucked on him and tried her best to take more into her mouth. She knew that some girls could take the whole thing, but hard as Wonyoung tried she could get less than half of her father's cock in her mouth. She wondered what it would taste like if he squirted his white stuff into her mouth.
Wonyoung sucked and stroked and like an angel she praised her father with her mouth. He did his best to watch her, though she made him feel so wonderful that he could barely stand at a few points. When he did look at her, the image of her perched in front of him with his cock in her mouth and looking up at her with her soulful, innocent brown eyesā¦it would be burned in his mind forever. He told her that his daughter was doing a wonderful job for her first time. But hard as she tried, and beautiful as she looked kneeling, Jae had one thing on his mind.
"Baby," he beckoned her, "stand up, let me see you again."
She obeyed him, arising so that her breasts brushed against his abdomen as she did. After admiring her for a few more seconds, Jae wasted no time lifting his daughter onto the island and she knew immediately by the proximity of his cockhead to her entrance what his intentions were.
"Daddy," she warned, "I don't think you should fuck me anymore, it's too risky."
"I promise, sweetie," her father sounded desperate again. I'll be very careful. If I'm very careful, you won't get pregnant. Cross my heart."
"I don't know, Daddy," she continued to protest, "I don't think we should, it's too dangerous right now for my fertility cycle. We'd be in so much trouble!"
"I know, honey, how about I just put the tip in you for a minute?" Jae negotiated. He was already prodding his daughter's mound with his large head, and Wonyoung was beginning to wish he would press harder and keep making her feel good. For a brief moment, the thought of her father's penis shooting his warm sperm into her pussy entered Wonyoung's conflicted brain. She knew it was even more wrong than having an orgasm or sucking her daddy's cock, but what would it feel like? Wonyoung loved her father more than anybody, even her mom; what if he did get her pregnant? She was so confused and wasn't supposed to want it, but this night was unlocking feelings she'd never conceived of before.
"Okay, but only for a minute, right?" Wonyoung relented. She didn't want to sound as eager as her body felt.
Jae didn't respond with words. The waiting had nearly driven him to madness. He pushed his tip against Wonyoung's still very wet lips. They parted and allowed his head to pop into her entry. Once again Jae had the thought that he'd never feel something so good as being inside his daughter's little pussy.
"Ouuwwh, Daddy!" she cried, feeling him inside her again. Her father's tip alone felt bigger in their new position. It hurt a little, but still she watched intently as he withdrew his tip and pushed it into her again. Both gasped as he did so, listening to each other and feeling everything from their incestuous connection between them.
Jae removed and replaced his tip in his teenager's pussy enough times that she lost count. He had gone on longer than promised but wasn't done yet.
"Ohhh fuck Dad," she whimpered, "it feels terrific now!"
Wonyoung's mouth had brought him close, but Jae needed to come more than he ever had before in his life. He dared push his cock a little further into his daughter. She noticed immediately, but assumed it was only an accident.
When he did it again, Wonyoung called him out.
"ā¦Fuuckk," she blurted, "Daddy, you promised."
"I know baby, just a little more!"
Maybe Jae had intended to keep his word, but once he felt her tiny channel more deeply wrapped around his cock, his promises began to evaporate.
He pushed into his daughter again, and then deeper, and then withdrew, and then thrust back in. In a few moments he was fucking his youngest daughter along the full length of his cock. Wonyoung, for all her protest, could not hide how much pleasure it was giving her,
"Oooohhhh Dadā¦ mnnnh fuckā¦ It's so bigā¦"
She certainly didn't sound like she wanted him to stop, and Wonyoung's feet were wrapped around her father's tight core. His abs rippled as he fucked her deeply and ever so gently her heels were pulling him in. She watched in wonder as the tip of her father's penis would peek out from between her lips and then the whole thing disappear entirely into her. She couldn't believe it fit. She lost track of time, but when she looked back at Jae's face, she could see him cringing and focusing hard.
"Okay, Daddy, shouldn't you stop now?"
Instead, she felt him grab on tightly to her hips and squeeze. Wonyoung put her hands on his strong chest, not knowing whether she wanted to push him away or hold on tight. He was much too strong for her; she could do nothing but accept the deliberate thrusts of her father into her. Her hands felt his manly chest instead, the hair upon his pecs and the dampness of sweat from fucking her so well. Did he know how badly she wanted him to continue? Should she keep protesting?
As he held on tightly, Jae could feel his orgasm building. He watched the soft spot between her hips mounding as he buried his cock in her fully before removing it. Her melodic panting and moaning were beginning to be too much for him.
"I'm almost there, sweetheart."
"Alright, dad, pleaseā¦ ouuumphhā¦ It's too risky!"
Wonyoung felt her father pick up speed for a few more thrusts until he squeezed her hips tight and began to tense.
Then she knew what was happening.
"Daddy, no!"
Jae went stiff as soon as he was buried in his young daughter's pussy. He gladly released a first, powerful jet of sperm into Wonyoung's womb. It immediately gave his daughter a jolt. Then another, and another; his tip painted the little girl's walls, her cervix and everywhere it could with his forbidden cum. Whether he had promised to or not, the intensity filling the beautiful teenager felt unquestionably right.
Wonyoung tried to be mad at him, but before she could scold him or yell or even try to push him off, the hot, forbidden sensation of what she knew was her father's semen made her quake from the inside out. Like before, Wonyoung's body trembled, her skin crawled and her insides squeezed more cum from her father's buried cock. It was the most wonderful feeling, and her second orgasm rocked her more powerfully than the first. It was so wrong that her daddy's cum squirting into her was making her quake with so much pleasure.
Jae shakily withdrew an inch of his embedded member from his daughter's insides and then roughly pushed it back in. His cock emitted another rope into her fertile and unprotected womb.
He had never felt so invigorated and so satisfied, and Jae was quite certain that he'd never cum so much in his life as he just had inside his daughter. Wonyoung wrapped her arms around his neck when her orgasm had struck her and was, willingly or not, still quivering as the last bit of her father's seed dribbled from his head and topped off her overfilled pussy.
His daughter held onto him, overwhelmed by the climax she hadn't expected and the incestuous load she now carried inside her. The sheer amount of it, and the feeling of her father's cum was unlike anything she'd ever felt and still his hard cock was filling her the rest of the way.
"Daddyā¦you promised," Wonyoung pouted as she met his eyes with hers.
"I know, baby, you were just too sexyā¦ I had to!" Her father reasoned.
She was still mad, though his tactics to win her weren't completely lost.
"You lied to me! You said you wouldn't cum inside my pussy and then you came so much!"
Wonyoung was right; he could feel his semen all over his buried rod. He knew that if Wonyoung had been telling the truth, his little swimmers would soon make their way even deeper into his daughter, and she could conceive his child. He looked down to see it.
Jae pulled his cock, still hard, from within his daughter's sensitive hole, watching her tremble as he did so. As soon as his head was revealed, white, milky cum pushed its way around him. As he fully disengaged, his load cascaded from within her deflowered pussy.
Wonyoung's eyes went wide.
"Oh my God, Daaaad! There's sooo much!" She sounded more amazed than upset.
"Quick, daddy, get it out before I get pregnant!" Wonyoung cried, reaching down to where his cum was dripping from within her.
Jae took his daughter's hand tenderly instead, "It's too late for that, honey."
Wonyoung felt so conflicted. She was worried, but only because people like her mother and that awful teacher in her sex education class told her she should be. Yet her daddy didn't look worried at all. As he took her hand and pulled her up toward him, Wonyoung was already feeling much better. They kissed lovingly, neither fully believing the wonderful, forbidden, and life-changing thing they'd just shared.
"What should we do, Daddy?"
Jae looked down at his daughter's young and freshly-fucked opening. Seeing that his cum was about to flow onto the granite countertop, Jae made a quick decision. He'd only once accomplished it with his wife, but he thought his odds were better with a beautiful girl whom he loved far more. Could he fuck his daughter again while his defiant member bobbed, still rock hard, tantalizingly close to Wonyoung's cute little slit?
Jae dared to scoop up the stream of his cum that had leaked out with his cock head and push it back into his daughter's pussy. He was too turned on to stop fucking his beautiful little girl yet. She shrieked with sensitivity.
Usually, even the faintest touch would send a shiver up Jae's spine, and it did, but he kept fucking her. Feeling the lubrication of his fresh cum easing his path into his daughter he decided to press on.
"Ohhhhh Daddyā¦ ohhh pleaaaseā¦ It's too sensitiveā¦ fuckkkkk!" his little girl cried.
Jae had been here before, and his desire to follow through prevailed. He cringed and he bucked, but he was determined to fuck his little Wonyoung until he was utterly spent. It was not long until he could feel his balls, unbelievably, building toward a second consecutive orgasm.
Wonyoung had been so overwhelmed by her father's actions that she hadn't the chance to look, but when she finally did she could tell that her daddy was going to cum inside her again, and so soon after he just had the first time!
"Ohhhh fuck daddyā¦ twice?" Wonyoung was about ready to pass out. "You can't cum in my pussy again!"
He didn't answer, with a labored series of grunts and moans, Jae once more buried his cock as deep as it would go and unloaded another sizable amount of semen into his little girl. Jet after jet, he added his cum to her already charged insides. He held her tight and Wonyoung watched him intently as he came. Though he was doing exactly what he'd promised not to, seeing her father so wholly give himself into his desires, and knowing that she had been his lover through it all, warmed her more than the multiple loads of her father's seed she now held within her.
Before he allowed his whole body to go limp, Jae lifted his baby off the kitchen counter and lay down on the nearby area rug with her on top of him. He didn't pull out of her. He didn't want to ever again.
Wonyoung and her father lay in the dark for an untold time. As they drank each other in, the teen's soft breasts pressed against Jae, and he felt her breathing deeply. She seemed tinier when draped over him as she was. His baby girlā¦ completely naked and still with his softening cock inside of herā¦ the thought was incredible to behold.
The young brunette propped her head up on her hands, the hairs on her father's chest tickling her palms. She looked up at him. She could tell he was utterly drained, and she could feel his cum slowly making its way out of her sore pussy.
"You're bad, daddy!" Wonyoung said.
Jae opened his eyes and peered down at her. Expecting her to be upset, or sad, or something of the like, he was surprised to see a naughty grin on his pretty daughter's face. Confused, Jae furrowed his brow and replied:
"You're not mad at me?," hoping she wasn't.
"Wellllllllllā¦" she teased him, tilting her head and making him wait for her answer, "you did take my virginity, daddyā¦"
"I know, baby, I had no ideaā¦ I didn't even know it was youā¦ I never would haveā¦"
"Hmmmph!" Wonyoung interrupted, "You never would have? You seemed like you liked fucking me Dadā¦"
She was goading him now. That girl he knew was a little rambunctious, definitely with a naughty streak.
"I see the way you look at me sometimes. I'm not stupid, Daddy." He didn't know what to say to his little girl, but she was right. "I think about you sometimes, too, Dadā¦"
Jaee raised his eyebrows, "You do?"
"Every once in a whileā¦ when I'm in bed and can't fall asleep. My friends talk about you all the time, I can't help it!" she told him. Knowing that his daughter thought about him that way made the fact that he'd just fucked her seem a little better. "But I never thought you would put your big thing in me when I was just looking in the refrigerator, like totally out of the blue!" she exclaimed.
"I swear it was an accident, sweetheart, I didn't mean to startle you," Jae reiterated
"And what about all this cum daddy? It's dripping out 'cause you put so much in me! Was it an accident when you came in my pussyā¦? TWICE!?" He could tell now that she was just playing with him. She reached between them where it was seeping out of her. Jae watched, incredulous, as she took a finger and swept some of it from the stream that had made its way out from her tight little tunnel. Without hesitation, she brought it up, looked at it curiously, and then popped her finger in her mouth, tasting it and swallowing his excess semen like it was no big deal.
Jae looked at her sideways, "Okay, maybe that wasn't an accidentā¦" he admitted, "but you don't look so upset, baby."
Wonyoung smiled, licking her lips. "ā¦maybe because I'm not."
Her father smiled too. He slid her little body up so her lips could meet his, and they kissed. Firs,t Wonyoung just pecked at him, but shortly thereafter, they were making out again and playfully dancing their tongues about. When they broke apart, Wonyoung laid her head next to her father's.
"You know I'm not on birth control, right, Daddy?"
"Yes, I know." Jae said with an 'oops' look on his face.
Wonyoung giggled, "And you still squirted all that sperm in me, even when I told you how easily I could get pregnant?"
"Yeaaahā¦ I did, didn't I?" Jae replied playfully.
"Hmmmā¦" his little girl sighed, "That would be so naughty, wouldn't it, Dad? You could have gotten me pregnant already!"
The possibility didn't scare him like he thought it would. An image of Wonyoung, his favorite daughter, with her beautiful black hair and brown eyes staring at him, the bulge of his child in her belly. She would look so lovely with that tiny body and his baby inside of her.
"We can go to the store tomorrow if you want, sweetie. We can get a pill that makes sure you don't get pregnant."
"Oh," Wonyoung said, sounding disappointed. Orā¦? " she asked nervously.
"Or what, honey?" Jae asked, totally confused.
"What if I don't take the pill?" Wonyoung said with an embarrassed shrug. She hoped her father wouldn't be mad at her suggestion.
Wonyoung thought he looked surprised, but then his eyes were full of love. "Wellā¦I don't knowā¦ I mean Iā¦" Jae stuttered, feeling smitten that his daughter would suggest something he'd only fantasized about.
Wonyoung thought it was cute that her dad was trying to pretend when she could so clearly tell that the thought appealed to him. "I guess we'd wait a little while. You'd miss your period, your belly would grow, and then we'd know you're carrying your daddy's baby."
Wonyoung's brown eyes were opened wide, waiting for him to say more. The corners of her mouth turned upward, and she looked adorably curious. Jae could hardly say no to his little girl, but this was entirely different. Thoughts were racing through his head, not least of which how wonderful it felt to have his naked little daughter draped over him as they spoke; that he'd never have another child with his wife; that he fully intended on fucking Wonyoung every chance she allowed him. If she was willing, she'd be perfectly fertile and healthy to make a baby with him.
"Do you think you might want that Wonyoung?" he paused, "I know you'd look so pretty with our baby growing in your belly."
Wonyoung giggled and bit the tip of her finger. "I think I might, Daddy, but I don't know for sure. It makes me so happy thinking about it that I'm tingling, butā¦" She was obviously working hard to wrap her head around it.
"You don't have to decide no,w honey, and nobody would know for a few months," Jae assured her.
Wonyoung knew that she loved her father more than life itself. For month,s she had been taking on her mother's role in his life, and she did so knowingly. He had confided in her, held her like a lover when she was down, even taken her out on dates. She was now awakened to the thought that she could truly be her daddy's forever. Her mom couldn't have her father's babies anymore, but she certainly could. Wonyoung was starting to allow the thought that she wanted to, badly.
"I graduate soon, daddy," she reasoned, "would anybody at school have to know?"
"No, sweetie. It could be our secret." He couldn't believe he was considering it.
"And then what?" Wonyoung continued.
"And thenā¦ wellā¦" her father looked deep in thought. I don't have it all figured out yet, Wonyoung, but I'd do anything for you, no matter what."
Wonyoung felt so completely enveloped in his love that she ached for him. Her little pussy was much too sore to accept him again that night, but Wonyoung had never felt such desire for a man before then. It was as if their little accident had brought out a part of her she never knew existed, locked in tight by her virginity: the part that wanted her daddy to be her lover, to be his again and again, and to become pregnant with his child whether the world said she could or not.
"How about we talk about it more in the morning?" Jae suggested.
"Okay, daddy, but we'll have to be extra careful." Wonyoung was very surprised and felt lucky nobody had heard them making love. Most of her family were heavy sleepers, but she had certainly been making a lot of noise as her father impaled her in the kitchen. It was also funny to Wonyoung that she suggested being careful when so much good had come from her father not being careful, cumming in her vulnerable little pussy with no condom.
They kissed again. It was a long one, and different than before. They both intended to build upon an unspoken promise of more, a deeper love. Wonyoung knew she wasn't supposed to feel that way about her father, and Jae about his little girl, but neither cared. Taking their relationship to such heights had primarily been by accident. But the sexual tension between them had been broken by the forbidden seed Wonyoung carried inside her, and they kissed with an unhinged passion most could never know.
Jae picked up his daughter easily. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and he slowly carried the cute brunette up the stairs toward her room. They could both feel his cum seeping from Wonyoung, telling definitively of their act. Their naked bodies holding each other tight and the looks they exchanged were evidence enough.
Jae gently sat his daughter on the bed, and she held on tight, not wanting him to leave her. She watched lovingly as her father pulled the covers back and slipped into bed with her.
"I love you so much, Daddy," she told him sincerely. I was nervous at first, but I don't regret anything that happened."
"I love you, too, baby, and I want you to know that I will be here to ensure everything turns out okay."
"I know you will," Wonyoung said adorably, holding her father tight as she drifted off to sleep.
Not long into her slumber, she felt her father leave quietly. Feeling hurt, she reasoned that he probably needed to return to her mother's bed so they wouldn't get found out. Still, she felt jealous, wanting him only for herself.
But the door to her room opened again, and back came her father.
He saw her eyes open and hurt. " You thought I was leaving you, didn't you, sweetie?"
"I know you need to, I just don't want to sleep without you tonight," she admitted.
"I had to clean up our little mess," he explained, holding up their discarded clothing. "ā¦probably not a good thing for your mother to see our clothes all over the floor or how wet you made the kitchen table, right?"
Wonyoung smiled guiltily, "Definitely not! I suppose I shouldn't tell her that daddy came in my pussy without a condom on TWO times tomorrow at breakfast?"
"No, you probably shouldn't mention that," Jae laughed. He wrapped his arm around his naked daughter and pulled her tight to him. "Now get some sleep, honey."
Wonyoung cuddled up to him with the biggest smile on her face. A naughty little part of her hoped that he meant to get some sleep because she would need it. Her recently filled pussy was still recovering, but Wonyoung knew she'd want her daddy to fuck her again before too long.
Jae had fallen asleep deep in thought, planning what to do next. With his beautiful daughter nuzzled against him, he felt certain that everything would be different. They had a whole new life ahead of them.
As they drifted off, Wonyoung's young womb was also striving to make a new life. By morning, she could already have conceived her father's child. For now, it was enough that the beautiful teenager could fall asleep, cradled in the arms of her loving father. Tomorrow was another day; they could spend it and many more tomorrows falling more deeply in love. Wonyoung was so young that it could be many months before her belly showed evidence of the night they had sharedā¦ or those to come.
A few days later, Y/N steps into the kitchen and freezes.
J and Jiheon are already seated at the table, matching smiles painted across their faces. Jās legs are crossed high, her skirt riding up. Jiheonās leaning forward, elbows on the wood, chin in her palms. Theyāve been waiting.
āMorning, oppa,ā Jiheon purrs.
Y/N can do nothing but grab a granola bar from the pantry. Donāt make eye contact. Don't make eye contact he keeps telling himself, the granola bar crinkles in his grip.
āYouāve been avoiding us,ā J says, her voice a pout. āAfter everything we shared.ā
She lets the last word hang. His jaw tightens.
āI have plans.ā Y/N replies
Jiheon laughs, light and sharp. āPlans? With that Ahyeon girl? Please. She doesnāt know you like we do.ā
He suddenly turns to face his step-sister āShe knows enough. Don't you worry about her.ā
J uncrosses her legs, stands, steps closer. Her hand lands on his chest, fingers playing with the collar of his blue shirt. āDoes she know how you taste when youāre nervous? How your breath catches right beforeāā
Y/N steps back. Her hand falls.
āEnough of this. Iām leaving for school.ā
And he's out the door before they can respond. The granola bar unopened in his pocket.
The sci-fi club meets every week in room 204, after last period. Poster of a nebula on the door. A dented model starship on the shelf. And Ahyeon, sitting at the back table, flipping through a worn paperback.
She looks up when Y/N walks in. Her hair is pulled back with a clip, loose strands framing her face. The afternoon light catches her cheekbones. She looks absolutely gorgeous.
āYouāre early.ā she says
He swallows trying to find a little bit of courage, his mouth starts to dry up.
āI need to ask you something.ā
She closes the book. Sets it down. Her eyes are dark, patient, curious.
Y/N crosses the room and stops in front of her.
āI really like you Ahyeon-ah. Have liked you for a while. So will you go to prom with me?ā
The words come out rougher than he had intended. Unrehearsed. Clearly he didn't think about what he was going to say if she laughed.
She doesnāt laugh.
A small smile spreads across her mouth. She stands. Now weāre close enough that I can smell her shampooāsomething floral, clean.
āIāve been waiting for you to ask,ā she says. āYes, of course i'll go to prom with you, Y/N.ā
The air leaves his lungs. Relief. Joy. Something that feels like a punch.
He grins. She laughs. And then she kisses him, right there in the sci-fi club, her lips warm and sure.
The two become the talk of the school by Tuesday.
āYou and Ahyeon? Seriously?ā My friend Mark claps my shoulder in the hallway. āSheās out of your league, man.ā
I donāt argue. She is.
We eat lunch together. She holds my hand under the table, thumb tracing circles on my palm. People stare. I donāt care.
She visits my house after school on Thursday.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I hear footsteps from the living room. J and Jiheon, summoned like bloodhounds.
Ahyeonās hand is still in mine. I squeeze, a warning.
āSo this is where you live,ā she says, glancing around. āCute. Cozy.ā
J appears first, leaning against the archway. āY/N, you didnāt tell us you were having company.ā
Jiheon drifts in behind her, arms crossed. āWe couldāve helped you prepare.ā
The word helped drips with implication.
Ahyeonās eyes flick between them. She doesnāt flinch.
āIām sure you could,ā she says, her voice sweet and sharp as a blade. āBut I think Iāve got handling Y/N down.ā
Jās smile tightens. āOh, do you? He has particular tastes.ā
Ahyeon tilts her head. Lets the silence stretch. Then she laughs, light and dismissive.
āMaybe. But I donāt share.ā
She turns to me, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the stairs. āYour room. Now.ā
I follow. Behind me, I hear Jiheon hiss something. J shushes her.
The door clicks shut. Ahyeon pushes me onto the bed, stands over me, her chest rising and falling.
āTheyāre trying to get under my skin,ā she says, but sheās smiling. A dangerous smile.
āTheyāre jealous.ā
āGood.ā She climbs onto the bed, straddles my hips. Her skirt rides up. I can feel the heat of her thighs through my jeans.
āIām going to give you something to remember,ā she says, her voice low. āSomething they canāt touch.ā
Her hands find my belt buckle.
My head tips back as her mouth finds me. Sheās slow at first, deliberateāa tease. Her tongue traces a line, circles, retreats. My fingers dig into the sheets.
Then she takes me deeper.
Thereās a rhythm she sets, confident, hungry. She knows what sheās doing. Every flick of her tongue, every hollow of her cheek, is a statement.
Iām better. Iām the one.
I canāt help the sound that escapes my throat. A groan, low and ragged.
She pauses. Looks up at me, eyes glinting.
āLet them hear,ā she whispers.
Then she resumes, faster now, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. The pleasure builds, tightens, coiling low in my gut.
I grip her hair. She moans around me, the vibration sending a shudder up my spine.
āAhyeonāIām closeāā
She doubles down. No hesitation. No mercy.
I come with a gasp that turns into a long, shuddering exhalation. My body arches. She doesnāt pull away. Takes everything, holds still as the last pulse fades.
Then she lifts her head.
Her lips are slick. A trail of white runs from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. She doesnāt wipe it.
She smiles up at me, breathless and triumphant.
From somewhere downstairs, I hear a door slam.
They heard.
The house feels heavier after Ahyeon walks out the front door. J and Jiheon waste no time. They corner Y/N in the hallway, bodies pressed close, voices low and sticky with intent.
"She left you all worked up," J murmurs, fingers tracing the line of his shirt collar. "We saw how she looked at you. We can finish what she started."
Jiheon slides a hand down his chest, stopping just above his belt. "We won't stop at a lousy blowjob this time. We'll ride you until you forget her name. Both of us. At the same time."
Y/N steps back, jaw set. "I'm not interested. She's my girlfriend. That's it."
J laughs, but it cracks at the edges. "Come on, oppa. We know what you like. We can do things she never will."
He shakes his head, already turning away. "Nothing you say changes anything. I'm done with this."
They keep pushing for another minute, voices turning sharp, but he keeps walking until the door to his room shuts behind him. Their footsteps fade, leaving only silence.
Prom night arrives like a held breath. Y/N stands in front of the mirror in a fitted black tuxedo, the fabric sharp against his frame. The tie sits straight. His hair is combed back. He looks ready.
J and Jiheon wait in the living room wearing the sluttiest outfits they could assemble. J's top is a tiny black crop that barely covers the underside of her breasts, the fabric stretched thin enough to show the hard points of her nipples. Her shorts ride so high the lower curve of her ass cheeks peeks out with every step. Jiheon's version is even bolder: a sheer white tank top with no bra underneath, the material clinging to every curve, and cutoff denim shorts so short they function more like underwear. Both girls move with deliberate sway, hips rolling as they block the hallway.
"Don't go," J says, voice thick. She steps in close, pressing her chest against his arm. "Stay here. We'll make it worth it. You can fuck us all night. Any position you want."
Jiheon drops to her knees right there on the carpet, looking up with wide eyes. "We can start now. Pull your cock out and let us suck it together. We'll swallow every single drop."
Y/N sidesteps them without a word. He grabs his keys, checks his phone for Ahyeon's text, and heads for the door. Their calls follow him down the driveway, but he doesn't look back.
The prom venue glows under soft lights. Ahyeon waits near the entrance in a flowing red dress that hugs her waist and flares at the hips. When she sees him, her face lights up. They move inside together, hands linked.
They dance slowly to the music, bodies swaying in time. Her head rests on his shoulder. Friends from the sci-fi club wave them over between songs. They laugh, share stories, drink punch that tastes too sweet. The night stretches easy and warm. Y/N forgets everything else while Ahyeon stays close, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his palm.
Later, Ahyeon pulls him outside and whispers against his ear. "My parents are gone all week. Come home with me."
The drive back to Ahyeonās house was a blur of electric tension, the air in the car thick with the scent of her perfume and the unspoken promise of what was to come. Every time she shifted in her seat, the red fabric of her dress brushed against Y/N, sending jolts of heat through him. By the time the engine cut out in the driveway, the silence was heavy, charged with a hunger that had been building all night.
The moment the front door clicked shut behind them, the pretense of patience vanished. Ahyeon turned to him, her eyes dark and dilated, shimmering with a predatory kind of desire. Without a word, she reached behind her back, the metallic slide of the zipper echoing in the quiet hallway. The red dress didn't just fall; it cascaded, sliding down the curves of her hips and pooling around her ankles in a shimmering heap of crimson silk.
She stood before him in a matching set of black laceāa bra that struggled to contain her breasts and panties that left very little to the imagination. She stepped into his space, the heat radiating off her skin. Her mouth crashed against his, her tongue sliding deep, tasting of lip gloss and longing. Her hands were frantic, working his jacket off his shoulders and then tearing at his shirt. A button popped, pinging off the wall, as she shoved the fabric aside to feel his bare chest.
Y/N groaned into the kiss, his hands finding the swell of her hips. Below, his cock was a rigid iron bar pressing against the denim of his pants. Ahyeon felt it; she let out a low, humming moan against his lips and reached down, palming him through the fabric. She squeezed him firmly, her fingers tracing the length and girth of him, making him gasp.
As they stumbled toward the bedroom, a sound drifted through the house. It was faint at firstāa soft, breathy whimperābut as they entered the room, it became clear. The wall shared a boundary with Asaās room, and the sounds filtering through were unmistakable.
"Ahhā¦ fuckā¦ right thereā¦ oh godā¦" Asaās voice was a broken melody of pleasure, echoing through the drywall.
Y/N's dick twitches harder at the sound. He pictures Ahyeon's sister on the other side of the wall, two classmates stripping her down, hands on her tits, mouths on her neck. The image makes his balls tighten.
Ahyeon paused, a playful, wicked smirk crossing her lips. She didn't seem bothered; if anything, the sound of her sisterās ecstasy acted like an aphrodisiac. She pushed Y/N back onto the bed, crawling over him with a slow, sensual grace. She leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest, her nipples stiff and poking through the lace.
"Sounds like Asa is having a very busy night," Ahyeon whispered, her breath hot against his ear. She began to grind her hips against his lap, the friction of the lace against his pants driving him wild. "But I don't want to share. I want you all to myself."
She pushes him backward onto the bed. Her fingers make quick work of his belt. Pants and boxers hit the floor. His cock springs free, thick and veined, already leaking at the tip. She climbs on top, straddling his hips. One hand reaches between them, grips his shaft, and rubs the head along her soaked slit. She sinks down in one slow motion, pussy stretching around him until her ass meets his thighs.
"Ohhh fuck," she moans, voice loud and clear. "Your cock feels so good inside me."
She began to bounce, her tits jiggling violently in the lace bra. Hips roll in steady circles, then lift and drop. Each descent takes him deeper. Wet sounds fill the room as her pussy grips and slides along his length. "Ahhā¦ ahhā¦ yesā¦ deeperā¦ fuck me harderā¦", rhythm slow at first but as the sounds from the next room intensified, so did her pace.
Through the wall, Asaās moans grew frantic, bordering on screams. "Yes! Fuck my pussy! Harder! Oh god, your cock is so big! I can'tāahh! Right there!"
The sound of Asa's pleasure pushed Ahyeon over the edge. She reached back, unhooking her bra with a quick snap and tossing it across the room. Her bare breasts swayed as she slammed her hips down harder, her pussy gripping Y/N with every descent.
Y/N grips her hips, thrusting up to meet her. His cock drives into her soaked heat again and again. The head nudges her cervix with every deep stroke. "Fuck, Ahyeonā¦ your pussy is squeezing me so tight."
Ahyeon let out a loud, piercing moan, her eyes rolling back. "Ahhh! Yes! Right there! Pound my cunt! Make me scream louder than my sister!"
Next door, the audio shifted. The sounds of shifting bodies and heavy breathing indicated a change in position. Asa was now riding one classmate while a second pushed into her from behind. Her voice cracked, a mixture of shock and pure bliss.
"Ohhh shit! Both holes! You're stretching my ass so wide! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
The double penetration makes her scream. The classmate under her thrusts up into her pussy while the one behind grips her waist and drives into her ass. Skin slaps against skin. Wet squelching noises mix with her cries. "Ahhh! I'm so full! Don't stop! Cum inside me!"
Ahyeon hears every word. She rides Y/N even harder, ass slapping against his thighs. Her pussy clenches and flutters around his thick cock. "Listen to her getting double-teamed. Two cocks ruining her at once. But you're mine. This dick belongs to me."
She grinds down in tight circles, clit rubbing against his pubic bone. "Ahhā¦ ahhā¦ I'm getting closeā¦ your big cock is hitting so deepā¦ fuckā¦ fuckā¦"
Y/N's hands slide up to squeeze her tits. He pinches her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She moans louder. "Yes! Play with my tits while you fuck me!"
The race intensifies. Ahyeon slams down with everything she has, pussy dripping down his shaft and onto his balls. Each thrust makes obscene wet sounds. "Ahhh! Yes! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Cum with me!"
Next door, Asa is losing it. "Oh my god! I'm cumming! Both cocks are making me cum so hard! Ahhh! Fill my holes!"
Her screams peak, raw and desperate. The two classmates grunt and thrust harder, one flooding her pussy while the other pumps cum into her ass. Asa shakes between them, voice hoarse. "Yes! Yes! So much cum!"
Ahyeon hears her sister's orgasm and it pushes her over. She rides Y/N at a frantic pace, hips snapping. "Ahhh! I'm cumming! Your cock is making me cum!"
Her pussy spasms around him, walls pulsing and milking. Y/N groans, hips jerking up as he erupts inside her. Thick ropes of cum shoot deep, filling her until it leaks out around his shaft with every bounce. "Fuckā¦ Ahyeonā¦"
She keeps moving through both their orgasms, slower now but still grinding, drawing every drop. "Mmmā¦ so much cumā¦ I can feel it pumping into me."
They stay locked together, breathing hard. Through the wall, Asa's moans soften into satisfied whimpers as the three of them collapse. Ahyeon leans down, kisses Y/N slow and deep, then whispers against his lips. "Best night ever."
Y/N holds her close, cock still twitching inside her soaked pussy. The sounds from next door fade, but the memory lingers, making the afterglow even sweeter. He strokes her back, content, completely hers.
Later that night as Y/N arrived home after giving his girlfriend a couple more orgasms, his relentless step-sisters were waiting for him by the kitchen table.
"So, how was she, Y/N?" Jiheon asks
"Was it everything you hoped for?" J sarcastically adds
"I'm not talking about this with my sisters. Plus it's none of your business. You should worry about your own boyfriend, Jiheon-ah." he says with a smirk knowingly
"What's that supposed to mean? she asks
"Oh, i don't know. Maybe the fact that i haven't seen him around in over a month." I'm sure you did something to upset him. Or did he think you were a bad fuck and left you for someone better?"
"What the fuck did you just say to me? Last week you were begging me to swallow your cum, now you've got a girlfriend and you suddenly think you're above it all?" Jiheon replies furiously as she gets up from the table, almost screaming at Y/N
"Maybe i did. Or maybe i just got tired of letting you two play games with me. All of this teasing and flirting after making fun of me for years for liking your older members. And now you're trying to fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to me." "If you care about me, then just stay the fuck out of my life." Y/N says as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room.
"Looks like little bro finally grew some balls." J says "What are we gonna do about this? We can't just let him walk away after everything that happened."
"Oh, he's not walking away i can promise you that. And since we can't just threaten to expose him to that slut girlfriend of his, we'll have to make it impossible for him to resist us." Jiheon replies
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A few days later, Y/N steps into the kitchen and freezes.
J and Jiheon are already seated at the table, matching smiles painted across their faces. Jās legs are crossed high, her skirt riding up. Jiheonās leaning forward, elbows on the wood, chin in her palms. Theyāve been waiting.
āMorning, oppa,ā Jiheon purrs.
Y/N can do nothing but grab a granola bar from the pantry. Donāt make eye contact. Don't make eye contact he keeps telling himself, the granola bar crinkles in his grip.
āYouāve been avoiding us,ā J says, her voice a pout. āAfter everything we shared.ā
She lets the last word hang. His jaw tightens.
āI have plans.ā Y/N replies
Jiheon laughs, light and sharp. āPlans? With that Ahyeon girl? Please. She doesnāt know you like we do.ā
He suddenly turns to face his step-sister āShe knows enough. Don't you worry about her.ā
J uncrosses her legs, stands, steps closer. Her hand lands on his chest, fingers playing with the collar of his blue shirt. āDoes she know how you taste when youāre nervous? How your breath catches right beforeāā
Y/N steps back. Her hand falls.
āEnough of this. Iām leaving for school.ā
And he's out the door before they can respond. The granola bar unopened in his pocket.
The sci-fi club meets every week in room 204, after last period. Poster of a nebula on the door. A dented model starship on the shelf. And Ahyeon, sitting at the back table, flipping through a worn paperback.
She looks up when Y/N walks in. Her hair is pulled back with a clip, loose strands framing her face. The afternoon light catches her cheekbones. She looks absolutely gorgeous.
āYouāre early.ā she says
He swallows trying to find a little bit of courage, his mouth starts to dry up.
āI need to ask you something.ā
She closes the book. Sets it down. Her eyes are dark, patient, curious.
Y/N crosses the room and stops in front of her.
āI really like you Ahyeon-ah. Have liked you for a while. So will you go to prom with me?ā
The words come out rougher than he had intended. Unrehearsed. Clearly he didn't think about what he was going to say if she laughed.
She doesnāt laugh.
A small smile spreads across her mouth. She stands. Now weāre close enough that I can smell her shampooāsomething floral, clean.
āIāve been waiting for you to ask,ā she says. āYes, of course i'll go to prom with you, Y/N.ā
The air leaves his lungs. Relief. Joy. Something that feels like a punch.
He grins. She laughs. And then she kisses him, right there in the sci-fi club, her lips warm and sure.
The two become the talk of the school by Tuesday.
āYou and Ahyeon? Seriously?ā My friend Mark claps my shoulder in the hallway. āSheās out of your league, man.ā
I donāt argue. She is.
We eat lunch together. She holds my hand under the table, thumb tracing circles on my palm. People stare. I donāt care.
She visits my house after school on Thursday.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I hear footsteps from the living room. J and Jiheon, summoned like bloodhounds.
Ahyeonās hand is still in mine. I squeeze, a warning.
āSo this is where you live,ā she says, glancing around. āCute. Cozy.ā
J appears first, leaning against the archway. āY/N, you didnāt tell us you were having company.ā
Jiheon drifts in behind her, arms crossed. āWe couldāve helped you prepare.ā
The word helped drips with implication.
Ahyeonās eyes flick between them. She doesnāt flinch.
āIām sure you could,ā she says, her voice sweet and sharp as a blade. āBut I think Iāve got handling Y/N down.ā
Jās smile tightens. āOh, do you? He has particular tastes.ā
Ahyeon tilts her head. Lets the silence stretch. Then she laughs, light and dismissive.
āMaybe. But I donāt share.ā
She turns to me, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the stairs. āYour room. Now.ā
I follow. Behind me, I hear Jiheon hiss something. J shushes her.
The door clicks shut. Ahyeon pushes me onto the bed, stands over me, her chest rising and falling.
āTheyāre trying to get under my skin,ā she says, but sheās smiling. A dangerous smile.
āTheyāre jealous.ā
āGood.ā She climbs onto the bed, straddles my hips. Her skirt rides up. I can feel the heat of her thighs through my jeans.
āIām going to give you something to remember,ā she says, her voice low. āSomething they canāt touch.ā
Her hands find my belt buckle.
My head tips back as her mouth finds me. Sheās slow at first, deliberateāa tease. Her tongue traces a line, circles, retreats. My fingers dig into the sheets.
Then she takes me deeper.
Thereās a rhythm she sets, confident, hungry. She knows what sheās doing. Every flick of her tongue, every hollow of her cheek, is a statement.
Iām better. Iām the one.
I canāt help the sound that escapes my throat. A groan, low and ragged.
She pauses. Looks up at me, eyes glinting.
āLet them hear,ā she whispers.
Then she resumes, faster now, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. The pleasure builds, tightens, coiling low in my gut.
I grip her hair. She moans around me, the vibration sending a shudder up my spine.
āAhyeonāIām closeāā
She doubles down. No hesitation. No mercy.
I come with a gasp that turns into a long, shuddering exhalation. My body arches. She doesnāt pull away. Takes everything, holds still as the last pulse fades.
Then she lifts her head.
Her lips are slick. A trail of white runs from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. She doesnāt wipe it.
She smiles up at me, breathless and triumphant.
From somewhere downstairs, I hear a door slam.
They heard.
The house feels heavier after Ahyeon walks out the front door. J and Jiheon waste no time. They corner Y/N in the hallway, bodies pressed close, voices low and sticky with intent.
"She left you all worked up," J murmurs, fingers tracing the line of his shirt collar. "We saw how she looked at you. We can finish what she started."
Jiheon slides a hand down his chest, stopping just above his belt. "We won't stop at a lousy blowjob this time. We'll ride you until you forget her name. Both of us. At the same time."
Y/N steps back, jaw set. "I'm not interested. She's my girlfriend. That's it."
J laughs, but it cracks at the edges. "Come on, oppa. We know what you like. We can do things she never will."
He shakes his head, already turning away. "Nothing you say changes anything. I'm done with this."
They keep pushing for another minute, voices turning sharp, but he keeps walking until the door to his room shuts behind him. Their footsteps fade, leaving only silence.
Prom night arrives like a held breath. Y/N stands in front of the mirror in a fitted black tuxedo, the fabric sharp against his frame. The tie sits straight. His hair is combed back. He looks ready.
J and Jiheon wait in the living room wearing the sluttiest outfits they could assemble. J's top is a tiny black crop that barely covers the underside of her breasts, the fabric stretched thin enough to show the hard points of her nipples. Her shorts ride so high the lower curve of her ass cheeks peeks out with every step. Jiheon's version is even bolder: a sheer white tank top with no bra underneath, the material clinging to every curve, and cutoff denim shorts so short they function more like underwear. Both girls move with deliberate sway, hips rolling as they block the hallway.
"Don't go," J says, voice thick. She steps in close, pressing her chest against his arm. "Stay here. We'll make it worth it. You can fuck us all night. Any position you want."
Jiheon drops to her knees right there on the carpet, looking up with wide eyes. "We can start now. Pull your cock out and let us suck it together. We'll swallow every single drop."
Y/N sidesteps them without a word. He grabs his keys, checks his phone for Ahyeon's text, and heads for the door. Their calls follow him down the driveway, but he doesn't look back.
The prom venue glows under soft lights. Ahyeon waits near the entrance in a flowing red dress that hugs her waist and flares at the hips. When she sees him, her face lights up. They move inside together, hands linked.
They dance slowly to the music, bodies swaying in time. Her head rests on his shoulder. Friends from the sci-fi club wave them over between songs. They laugh, share stories, drink punch that tastes too sweet. The night stretches easy and warm. Y/N forgets everything else while Ahyeon stays close, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his palm.
Later, Ahyeon pulls him outside and whispers against his ear. "My parents are gone all week. Come home with me."
The drive back to Ahyeonās house was a blur of electric tension, the air in the car thick with the scent of her perfume and the unspoken promise of what was to come. Every time she shifted in her seat, the red fabric of her dress brushed against Y/N, sending jolts of heat through him. By the time the engine cut out in the driveway, the silence was heavy, charged with a hunger that had been building all night.
The moment the front door clicked shut behind them, the pretense of patience vanished. Ahyeon turned to him, her eyes dark and dilated, shimmering with a predatory kind of desire. Without a word, she reached behind her back, the metallic slide of the zipper echoing in the quiet hallway. The red dress didn't just fall; it cascaded, sliding down the curves of her hips and pooling around her ankles in a shimmering heap of crimson silk.
She stood before him in a matching set of black laceāa bra that struggled to contain her breasts and panties that left very little to the imagination. She stepped into his space, the heat radiating off her skin. Her mouth crashed against his, her tongue sliding deep, tasting of lip gloss and longing. Her hands were frantic, working his jacket off his shoulders and then tearing at his shirt. A button popped, pinging off the wall, as she shoved the fabric aside to feel his bare chest.
Y/N groaned into the kiss, his hands finding the swell of her hips. Below, his cock was a rigid iron bar pressing against the denim of his pants. Ahyeon felt it; she let out a low, humming moan against his lips and reached down, palming him through the fabric. She squeezed him firmly, her fingers tracing the length and girth of him, making him gasp.
As they stumbled toward the bedroom, a sound drifted through the house. It was faint at firstāa soft, breathy whimperābut as they entered the room, it became clear. The wall shared a boundary with Asaās room, and the sounds filtering through were unmistakable.
"Ahhā¦ fuckā¦ right thereā¦ oh godā¦" Asaās voice was a broken melody of pleasure, echoing through the drywall.
Y/N's dick twitches harder at the sound. He pictures Ahyeon's sister on the other side of the wall, two classmates stripping her down, hands on her tits, mouths on her neck. The image makes his balls tighten.
Ahyeon paused, a playful, wicked smirk crossing her lips. She didn't seem bothered; if anything, the sound of her sisterās ecstasy acted like an aphrodisiac. She pushed Y/N back onto the bed, crawling over him with a slow, sensual grace. She leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest, her nipples stiff and poking through the lace.
"Sounds like Asa is having a very busy night," Ahyeon whispered, her breath hot against his ear. She began to grind her hips against his lap, the friction of the lace against his pants driving him wild. "But I don't want to share. I want you all to myself."
She pushes him backward onto the bed. Her fingers make quick work of his belt. Pants and boxers hit the floor. His cock springs free, thick and veined, already leaking at the tip. She climbs on top, straddling his hips. One hand reaches between them, grips his shaft, and rubs the head along her soaked slit. She sinks down in one slow motion, pussy stretching around him until her ass meets his thighs.
"Ohhh fuck," she moans, voice loud and clear. "Your cock feels so good inside me."
She began to bounce, her tits jiggling violently in the lace bra. Hips roll in steady circles, then lift and drop. Each descent takes him deeper. Wet sounds fill the room as her pussy grips and slides along his length. "Ahhā¦ ahhā¦ yesā¦ deeperā¦ fuck me harderā¦", rhythm slow at first but as the sounds from the next room intensified, so did her pace.
Through the wall, Asaās moans grew frantic, bordering on screams. "Yes! Fuck my pussy! Harder! Oh god, your cock is so big! I can'tāahh! Right there!"
The sound of Asa's pleasure pushed Ahyeon over the edge. She reached back, unhooking her bra with a quick snap and tossing it across the room. Her bare breasts swayed as she slammed her hips down harder, her pussy gripping Y/N with every descent.
Y/N grips her hips, thrusting up to meet her. His cock drives into her soaked heat again and again. The head nudges her cervix with every deep stroke. "Fuck, Ahyeonā¦ your pussy is squeezing me so tight."
Ahyeon let out a loud, piercing moan, her eyes rolling back. "Ahhh! Yes! Right there! Pound my cunt! Make me scream louder than my sister!"
Next door, the audio shifted. The sounds of shifting bodies and heavy breathing indicated a change in position. Asa was now riding one classmate while a second pushed into her from behind. Her voice cracked, a mixture of shock and pure bliss.
"Ohhh shit! Both holes! You're stretching my ass so wide! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
The double penetration makes her scream. The classmate under her thrusts up into her pussy while the one behind grips her waist and drives into her ass. Skin slaps against skin. Wet squelching noises mix with her cries. "Ahhh! I'm so full! Don't stop! Cum inside me!"
Ahyeon hears every word. She rides Y/N even harder, ass slapping against his thighs. Her pussy clenches and flutters around his thick cock. "Listen to her getting double-teamed. Two cocks ruining her at once. But you're mine. This dick belongs to me."
She grinds down in tight circles, clit rubbing against his pubic bone. "Ahhā¦ ahhā¦ I'm getting closeā¦ your big cock is hitting so deepā¦ fuckā¦ fuckā¦"
Y/N's hands slide up to squeeze her tits. He pinches her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She moans louder. "Yes! Play with my tits while you fuck me!"
The race intensifies. Ahyeon slams down with everything she has, pussy dripping down his shaft and onto his balls. Each thrust makes obscene wet sounds. "Ahhh! Yes! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Cum with me!"
Next door, Asa is losing it. "Oh my god! I'm cumming! Both cocks are making me cum so hard! Ahhh! Fill my holes!"
Her screams peak, raw and desperate. The two classmates grunt and thrust harder, one flooding her pussy while the other pumps cum into her ass. Asa shakes between them, voice hoarse. "Yes! Yes! So much cum!"
Ahyeon hears her sister's orgasm and it pushes her over. She rides Y/N at a frantic pace, hips snapping. "Ahhh! I'm cumming! Your cock is making me cum!"
Her pussy spasms around him, walls pulsing and milking. Y/N groans, hips jerking up as he erupts inside her. Thick ropes of cum shoot deep, filling her until it leaks out around his shaft with every bounce. "Fuckā¦ Ahyeonā¦"
She keeps moving through both their orgasms, slower now but still grinding, drawing every drop. "Mmmā¦ so much cumā¦ I can feel it pumping into me."
They stay locked together, breathing hard. Through the wall, Asa's moans soften into satisfied whimpers as the three of them collapse. Ahyeon leans down, kisses Y/N slow and deep, then whispers against his lips. "Best night ever."
Y/N holds her close, cock still twitching inside her soaked pussy. The sounds from next door fade, but the memory lingers, making the afterglow even sweeter. He strokes her back, content, completely hers.
Later that night as Y/N arrived home after giving his girlfriend a couple more orgasms, his relentless step-sisters were waiting for him by the kitchen table.
"So, how was she, Y/N?" Jiheon asks
"Was it everything you hoped for?" J sarcastically adds
"I'm not talking about this with my sisters. Plus it's none of your business. You should worry about your own boyfriend, Jiheon-ah." he says with a smirk knowingly
"What's that supposed to mean? she asks
"Oh, i don't know. Maybe the fact that i haven't seen him around in over a month." I'm sure you did something to upset him. Or did he think you were a bad fuck and left you for someone better?"
"What the fuck did you just say to me? Last week you were begging me to swallow your cum, now you've got a girlfriend and you suddenly think you're above it all?" Jiheon replies furiously as she gets up from the table, almost screaming at Y/N
"Maybe i did. Or maybe i just got tired of letting you two play games with me. All of this teasing and flirting after making fun of me for years for liking your older members. And now you're trying to fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to me." "If you care about me, then just stay the fuck out of my life." Y/N says as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room.
"Looks like little bro finally grew some balls." J says "What are we gonna do about this? We can't just let him walk away after everything that happened."
"Oh, he's not walking away i can promise you that. And since we can't just threaten to expose him to that slut girlfriend of his, we'll have to make it impossible for him to resist us." Jiheon replies
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