Jae rarely saw his sister Miyeon anymore. Between their going to school in separate cities and busy schedules when they were home in the summer, it was rare if they spent more than an hour in each other's' company. He still always loved seeing her, though she and he both were changing as they followed their own paths. And, every time he saw her, it reminded him that she was a stunner. As they went through school, Jae knew she would be a beauty when she got prettier and prettier each year. However, it seemed that she never stopped; her breasts got bigger and bigger until they looked like they could fill Jae's hand and then some, or so he imagined. Her face was adorable, with a beautiful smile and that sexy way she bit her lip when she did something naughty. And her body…her workouts kept it so slender at the waist and yet her butt a spank-able little cushion. Topped off with her soft, brown hair flowing down to her shoulders, she was a picture of perfection.
It didn't matter, though, for all the torture he had to endure when she let her robe slip open as she lounged on the couch, revealing her bra and her taut stomach-- she was still his sister. He'd put up with the suggestive comment or two from guys at school and maybe stolen a peak at her cup size when she left a lacy number in the drier (it was 34C), but other than that, their interactions were mostly innocent. When they went to school, they drifted a bit further apart, but of course, whenever she came home, she seemed to have gotten hotter, more tan, better legs, etc.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Jae had gotten out of class early, so he decided to drive back home and drop in on his mom and dad for the weekend. He could use a break from the action at school. So, a few hours later he was pulling into his driveway. He arrived just as the mailman offered to bring the mail himself. He grabbed it and walked up to the front door, flipping through it as he climbed the steps to the front door. Something caught his eye, a manila envelope with a letterhead he recognized. Embarrassingly enough, after thinking about it for a few seconds, he placed it as a porn company he'd seen on one of those video streaming sites.
'What's this?' He thought to himself and paused at the front door.
Thinking quickly, he decided that whatever it was, his parents probably shouldn't be seeing it anyway, so he slipped it into his duffel and rang the doorbell. After exchanging hellos and sitting with his dad before he headed back to work, Jae headed upstairs to his room. The envelope in his bag had nagged at him while sitting with his dad and he intended to find out what it was about. He had only glanced at the envelope before stuffing it away, and looking at it now, he noticed that it was addressed to his sister. His heart spiked a bit at that. What the hell would a porn company want with Miyeon?
Ripping it open, he reached for a letter and a DVD. He'd have read the letter, but the DVD cover grabbed his attention for obvious reasons. It was a porno called "School's Out" with a beautiful young girl on the cover, but not just any beautiful girl, his sister. His jaw practically hit the floor. She was posing on the cover in a sexy schoolgirl outfit with the naughty look on her face that Jae had come to know so well. The caption beside her read that it was her first scene, and Jae was again speechless. The back had a few more pictures of her and other girls in the film, but nothing displaying what her part in the film was.
He walked over toward his bag to retrieve his laptop and sat down, waiting for it to power up before he took it in. His sister… in a porno… the very one he held in his hand? She looked so cute on the front cover, so innocent and yet so goddamn hot. How the hell had she become a pornstar? From what he knew, she was still in school and doing well.
'My God, porn?' He thought to himself.
In his haste he failed to even think that this was his sister he was about to see on his screen if he put that disc into his laptop. And not only that; she was going to be…presumably having sex with some random dude with a big dick. Christ, he hadn't even seen her naked in full before, and he was about to see a lot more than that. He hesitated as he stared at his desktop for a few seconds. Should he watch it…? Wow, it was like his dreams were coming true and he was simultaneously waking up.
'Maybe just a minute, to see if it's really true,' He rationalized as he slipped it into the drive and pulled up the menu.
The first scene wasn't her, or the second. It was as he suspected, the same type of story line he'd seen played out in plenty of scenes before. When his sister came on to the screen, it was a third shock in only a few minutes. She was wearing her sexy little school girl outfit with her breasts pushed up and short miniskirt cutting off close below her bubbly behind. She had a pierced belly button (man, did he love that on girls) and a touch of makeup. He watched in disbelief as she went through the motions with some guy, setting up the story of a sexy student trying to talk her way out of trouble. He had to admit, she was an adorable actress, and he found himself projecting himself into the role of the man being seduced by his student.
That was until she reached for the guy's belt buckle. He realized she really was going to sleep with the guy, and Jae covered his eyes with his hand. He couldn't watch this, could he? He peeked between his fingers and saw the guy reaching for his sister's breast. As he grasped it for a second, Jae found himself becoming angry with the actor for touching his sister that way. In a few more seconds, she had worked the guy's pants open and was holding his semi-erect penis. He wasn't all that much larger than Jae, he thought to himself happily.
And then the man worked Miyeon's breast out of its cotton sling, and he saw her nipple for the first time. It was utterly suckable, a big nub with a relatively tiny areola that his mouth watered at the sight of. She then started stroking his penis up and down in her tiny hand and kissing him in a way that he wished deeply to feel himself. Feeling his own cock begin to harden, a pang of guilt struck him for desiring his sister so.
He battled inwardly as the video played out, and his sister started to disrobe, and he decided to just click through. It wasn't as if he intended to see it, but the first click of the mouse brought him to a frame of his sister on her knees with a cock deep in her mouth. Even for the second he lingered he could see the side profile of his little sister and her rocking body. Bent at the knee as she was, he loved how the pads of her feet stretched to stabilize her, and her curves led from her toned legs to her taut, arched back. Oh no, he thought as she swallowed the cock a few times, and he averted his eyes. He haphazardly clicked forward into the video, and this time she wasn't on her knees but laid out on the bed with her pussy, which looked taut as hell, swallowing the man's shaft into her tiny frame. Piercing her over and over, the guy shoved himself into Miyeon, and Jae felt himself becoming angry, or was it jealous… either way, a few more times of watching his sister's quim stretch to accept the invading member, and he slammed his screen down, unable to watch it any further.
Her soft pants of pleasure rang in his ears, and it was as if he could see her wiggling beneath him as he shoved into her. His cock was completely stiff. He was reeling from what he just saw. Firstly, because he had just watched his little sister, the one who he'd walked with to school when they were little, wrestle in the backyard, do some different kind of wrestling altogether. Secondly, he could not believe how unbelievably attractive she was and how badly he wanted to be in the unnamed man's place. He felt all at once shocked about his relationship with the young girl he was just watching be fucked, and strange that he'd felt lust for her. After all, that's what she was there for, wasn't it? To be an icon for his desires, to arouse him enough to pleasure himself while watching her. Oh Lord, how would he face her now, knowing what he knew?
A sound woke him from his daze, and he got up to see who was making it. Looking over the railing as he left his room, he saw her standing in the doorway and shutting it behind her. It looked like he'd be facing her even sooner than he expected.
"Oppa!" she screamed as she dropped her things.
Bounding up the stairs, Miyeon's breasts bounced in her shirt, a deep v-neck sweater showing off plenty of them. The shirt was cut short of her belly button, and he could see the piercing that gleamed on her beautiful stomach. Below that, she had a set of distressed-looking low-rider jeans that could have been painted on for how tightly they held her beautiful legs. She practically jumped into his arms, and he prayed that she didn't feel his already stiffening erection.
With her body pressed up against his and her breasts, her soft, full breasts, mashed between them, Jae resigned himself to the fact that he'd never look at Miyeon the same again. Instead, he just wrapped her in his arms, returning the hug. Feeling her body against his, the warmth of it and the swell of her breasts resurrected the war between his brain and dick. She pushed off of him and looked at Jae deep in the eyes, a questioning look on her face. It was the same adorable face he remembered, and it caused him to snap out of his stupor and realize he'd not said a word to her yet.
"It's so good to see you, baby, sis. I didn't know you were coming home!" Jae managed.
One of his hands came to rest on the exposed portion of her back, warm and smooth. He thought about how it would feel to grab onto her there and about seeing that guy holding onto her waist as he plunged that big thing of his into Jae's little sister.
"Well, Jenna told me you were coming home, and I decided that I had some free time this weekend, so I'd join you. Are you happy to see me?"
Jenna was Miyeon's best friend in high school and now attended the same college as Jae. She was a year younger than him and almost as sexy as Jae's little sister was; he'd seen her walking home from class and mentioned he was going home for the weekend. Man, news travels fast, he thought to himself.
"Of course I'm happy to see you. This house can always use a little more action, right? especially a knockout like you, little sis. I swear you keep getting prettier every time I see you!" Jae said excitedly.
"Oh, stop it," Miyeon blushed, and then there was that look again -- her cheeks puffing up the way they did and that little nibble of her lip. The frame of Miyeon first being penetrated came into his memory and he shook it off. "When did you become such a charmer, huh? And while we're handing out compliments, you've been hitting the gym a little yourself haven't you?"
With a little free time here and there, now that he had gotten past the difficult years in school, he had tried to stay in shape. He was now a pretty lean 6'0" and 185 lbs.
"Well, I gotta look good for the ladies right? And speaking of Jenna, maybe I oughta look her up when I go back to school!" Jae said leadingly.
"You wouldn't dare! She's my best friend!" Miyeon screamed.
"I don't know Miyeon. She was lookin' mighty fine in that sundress today." Jae teased.
"Better than me?" Miyeon asked him. She stepped back, kicked her hips out to the side, and posed for comparison.
"Hmm… let me think… turn for me." Jae continued to joke with her, but she did spin around, showing him her great little booty and the rest of her backside. "It's a close one, I think I oughta sleep with her to find out."
"No way, mister, don't even think about it. And that wouldn't be fair. You'd have to sleep with me then, and I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to do that." Miyeon shot back at him.
Jae had to hesitate a second at that, had she just said that. He could hardly hold back the thoughts of bending her over the railing right there and taking her like the little pornstar she was.
'Get a hold of yourself,' Jae scolded himself. See her mock upset look? He said, "Oh, alright already, plus I don't think they have guys like me down at that school of yours. Little girls like you only go for the hipster-type guys with jeans tighter than yours and a personality disorder."
"Ha, got a pretty high opinion of yourself there, huh, sport." Miyeon joked. "I think it's me you couldn't handle. They don't make 'em like me in that winter wasteland you attend," Miyeon thrust her chest out while saying that, and Jae practically shot in his pants. She looked so god damned sexy, and she must have known it. "I bet the only girls you take home at that school have a bigger dick than you."
"I doubt that," Miyeon's eyes seemed to glint and shoot downward at that comment, but Jae continued, "But just ask your friend Jenna in a week or two and she'll tell you."
Miyeon gave up, "Ugh, you are relentless! Whatever, I'm gonna take a shower, will you please bring up my bags Mr. Manly Man?"
Jae watched her walk away, her beautiful hips swaying as she sauntered down the hall. What was happening! He had suddenly started talking sex with his little sister, and he had to reel himself back in. But he didn't want to; truth of the matter was, he was imagining himself in that shower with her, fucking her brains out. Holding on to those gorgeous titties of hers, he could just pound away at her from behind.
'She's your sister for god's sake.' Jae knew he'd really turned the corner with the way he looked at his little sister. 'But the way she played into my jokes…' He argued in his head, 'She'd never go for it… or would she.' He took a few minutes downstairs to process what was going on. Even if she wanted him to, could he really do it? He poured himself a glass of water and drained it before grabbing her bags and heading upstairs.
Approaching her room, he saw the door half open, and beyond it, his little sister was undressing. She peeled her sweater off and tossed it on the bed as he climbed the last stair. A few more steps toward her door and he could see her reaching for the button on her jeans and trying to wiggle out of their snug fit. Her breasts swayed back and forth and nearly spilling out of the confines of her bra, a simple white push-up. The curves of her smooth skin, sun-kissed by the California rays at her school, accentuated a flawless body. As soon as she had the jeans down to her feet, hopping once or twice adorably, she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, and Jae made a coughing sound to announce his presence.
"Eh, hhem," he interrupted.
Miyeon, still with the jeans caught around one foot, reached for her breasts as the bra straps fell from her shoulders. She covered herself as best she could, and Jae looked away to give her her privacy.
"Sorry sis, I was just bringing your things," He snuck a peak once or twice over his right shoulder.
"Ha-ha, I guess I gave you a bit of any eyeful huh?" She was rustling around behind him and then said, "okay, you can look now."
As he turned, he realized she wasn't all that better covered, she had a tiny towel covering the essentials, but the tops of her breasts and the very bottom of her butt were clearly peeking out on either side. He could do nothing to stop his cock from hardening in his shorts, and he could have sworn he saw Miyeon's eyes catch it once or twice.
"What's the matter Oppa, am I making you nervous?" She teased.
"No, you're just not wearing very much and your my sister," he responded
"Hmm…" was all she said, glancing clearly down toward her brother's crotch, if only for a second.
Jae left her alone for the time being; whether or not something would happen between them, Jae knew he needed to cool down and take things slowly. If he had only waited a few more seconds earlier he would have probably seen Miyeon strip fully nude and he wasn't sure he was ready to see that in person (even if he had seen her being stuffed full of cock in the video just before she arrived home herself)
Miyeon showered and he heard her ambling down the stairs to the living room while he was sitting and watching TV. He shouldn't have even been shocked when he saw that she was wearing only a tiny orange top that could have been a bathing suit and yoga pants, and yet his jaw nearly dropped seeing all that exposed skin.
"Jeez sis, you comfortable?"
"When did you become such a prude, huh? It's my own damn house and I just had a long drive, I would have gone naked but I couldn't risk mom or dad coming home early," Miyeon responded with some sass.
"Because it would be fine for you to be prancing around in the nude in front of me…" Jae questioned
"Like I said…" Miyeon said almost inaudibly, but not quite, "…prude."
Jae heard it and wasn't pleased to be accused again. "What's gotten into you, huh?"
"Oh nothing." Miyeon lied. She wasn't about to reveal that she was thinking about becoming a full-time adult film star, especially not to her brother.
So they just watched TV together like that, Miyeon lounging across the couch with her gorgeous tummy stretched just so and her breasts hugged in the strip of cloth across them. The yoga pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination; she was, put simply, an absolute knockout. She was way too pretty for porn, he thought to himself, wishing again he hadn't seen her being used by an unnamed actor. Although he was defenseless to her beauty, (he knew for a fact that every other man was anyway) Jae simply couldn't shove off the protective feelings he had toward Miyeon. He'd been looking out for her since they were little.
"Let's do something, I'm bored," Miyeon whined.
"Like what?"
There was a pause, and Jae watched her as she looked deep in thought. Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in her head, she sat up straight, causing her breasts to shake in the orange top and her abs to flex gorgeously.
"Oh shit… I just forgot," Miyeon trailed off, clearly deep in thought again.
"Earth to Miyeon!" Jae called out to her.
"I have to do something, I can't believe I forgot." Miyeon
"Umm… okay."
Miyeon hopped off the couch and took the stairs two at a time up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her before Jae could even enjoy the sight of her spandex-covered ass. He stayed where he was on the couch nonetheless, half enjoying the episode of one of those shows brain-dead he watched sometimes and half processing all of the information he'd taken in over the last hour or so.
Visions of Miyeon came in and out of his mind, some of them from the clip he'd just seen of her a short while ago. He dozed off a few times and was making peace with all of the chaos Miyeon had caused within him since he'd returned home when she quickly opened the door at the top of the stairs and walked out.
"So……." Miyeon said, walking to the stairs and looking down at him,
"So……." Jae questioned her.
"I have this thing I have to do, and I usually have my roommate at school help me with it, but she's not here now, and I forgot it was due tonight,"
"We're not exactly in the same program, Miyeon. I'm not sure I can help you with your homework," Jae replied.
"Yea… It's not that kind of thing."
"Ugh, okay. What is it?" Jae responded to her as he got up off the couch. "Well, that's the thing. I know I shouldn't be asking you, you being my brother and all, but I need your help." Miyeon had a guilty look, and Jae was still clueless.
"Well, what the hell is it already?" Jae asked, growing impatient.
"Just… can you come here, and I'll show you." This time, the look on her face was more naughty than anything else, and Jae liked it.
It was his turn to race up the stairs this time, but with Miyeon standing at the top, he tried to keep his cool. When he reached the top, he nearly ran into his sister and found himself standing a few inches from her. The scent of her body wash was faint yet exciting, and there was a moment of silence between them before Miyeon spoke.
"So… I didn't think I was going to need to tell you so soon…but…" she dragged this out.
"Oh God, just spit it out already."
"I NEED YOU TO TAKE PICTURES OF ME NAKED." She barely managed to form separate words.
It took a minute for Jae even to pick the words apart. "Uhh… WHAT?" This was a stretch, even after some of the thoughts he'd been having.
She was racing again, "I know it sounds weird, but I guess I kinda may have done some porn, and now I need to do a photo audition for a company that could give me a huge offer if I look good in it and I can't take the photos myself because I forgot my remote for the camera so I need you to do it and I know it will be weird, but I need you to so will you just please do it." She said it all in one breath.
"Whoa……." Jae didn't know how to respond just then.
Miyeon just looked up at him with eyes wide. They were pleading with him to agree.
"I don't know, Miyeon, this is out there." Sure, he'd wished to get inside her when he saw her on his computer screen, but didn't every guy imagine having sex with their favorite pornstars? If they were really in front of them, though, would a guy go through with it, maybe cheat on a girlfriend, risk getting her pregnant?
Fuck it, he didn't have a girlfriend. Thinking of getting Miyeon pregnant made him want to do more, and she hadn't even asked him to have sex with her, just see her naked.
"I guess if you need my help,"
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped into his arms, and he immediately felt his hands on that warm, taut abdomen he had drooled over before. 'God, she is so hot!' he screamed inwardly, and he rejoiced at the fact that he was about to see her naked.
"So I know this will be a bit weird for you, but if you just do as I say, we'll have the pictures we need in no time. I'll owe you so much." Her smile exuded sex now.
"Yeah, you bet you will," Jae said.
Miyeon took him by the hand and led him inside. She led him over to her dresser, where a pretty expensive-looking DSLR Camera and a few different lenses sat. On the bed was an outfit that he absolutely couldn't wait to see his little sister in, and when she picked it up and told him to wait as she put it on in the bathroom, he breathed heavily.
She walked out in an unbelievably sexy schoolgirl outfit. It had a blouse that was not much bigger than the plaid bra beneath and a miniskirt that couldn't even cover her pert little butt. She looked down at the floor and then up at Jae through the strands of brown hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.
She looked so beautiful, and Jae suddenly decided to snap a picture. He brought the camera up and quickly took a picture. He perfectly captured the innocence she was exuding and kept taking pictures as she scolded him:
"Stop! I'm not ready yet."
"Hey, I said I'd take pictures, but I'll take them whenever I want, " he said with a smile.
"FINE! Like I said, you're relentless."
She slowly walked toward the bed and made sure to give him plenty of time to take pictures. She put a knee up on the bed and looked back at him; the pose was flawless.
"Are you sure this is okay with you? I know I was calling you prude earlier, so I don't want you to feel like you have to prove something, " she said, really meaning it.
"No Miyeon, it's really okay, you need help, and you're my little sis, so I'll do it. Besides, you're not so hard on the eyes anyway." He complimented
She was positively beaming after his comment and she bit on the tip of her pinky finger in embarrassment. She continued her path onto the bed and showed him a bit of her ass as she bent over on her hands and knees with her back arched impressively. Her little butt stood proud in the air, he snapped a pic every few seconds, moving this way and that to get good angles. She might have needed his help, but he would certainly enjoy this if he had any say in it.
Then Miyeon laid down flat and played around with her legs. 'Click, click, click,' went the camera as he got shots of her long aiguille socks snaking their way up her toned legs. They were so smooth and so alluring. She rolled over, once again arching her back as her brother took more pictures.
"You're beautiful, little one, keep doing that," Miyeon smiled as her brother breathed the compliment quietly not sure whether he'd meant her to hear it or not. She quickly untied the blouse to reveal the plaid bra beneath. It was a tight-fitting piece that caused her breasts to spill out over the tops. Jae couldn't imagine something more perfect or more seductive. He took multiple pictures as she kneeled upright on the bed to remove the blouse, her tits pushed out as she snaked her arms out through the sleeves.
Laying back down and stretching out on the bed, she posed a few times before reaching for the ties where her plaid miniskirt connected on the left and quickly tugging at the laces with her hand. The miniskirt loosened, and she slid it off her waist. She smiled a great, big, gleaming smile at the camera and flung the skirt her brother's way. Jae couldn't be certain, but he thought he may have gotten a great shot of the skirt midair with his little sister perched behind it on the bed, now in only her bra and a matching pair of panties.
Jae could feel his body heating up, though the temperature in the room hadn't changed a degree. It wasn't all that was going up either, and Miyeon took notice of the bulge in her brother's pants that was snaking its way toward his waistband. She felt so aroused that her big brother found her good enough looking to get an erection. It encouraged her further. She started posing more sensuously and in more provocative poses: tossing this way and that, sexy looks flashed across her beautiful face and she imagined that her eyes were begging him to ravage her.
Jae couldn't believe his restraint as he took picture after picture. But finally, it was the moment of truth, and as Miyeon reached around her backside with nimble fingers, disconnecting the clasp of her bra, Jae knew he was in for the treat of a lifetime. Once again, she let the bra fall only a bit before covering it with her hands, and he kept clicking and clicking. More of her breasts were showing now, and he wanted more than anything to see the remaining hidden objects of his fantasy.
Miyeon teased him, though, for as soon as she let the bra fall, her hands were there to cover her nipples, which were hard as ever, she noted. She stood and walked toward him, getting dangerously close, and when only a few feet away, she covered both her breasts with one hand and reached down to shove off her tiny panties. Down and over her cute socks they went and Miyeon's free hand covered her pussy. He could tell she was shaven, and seeing his sister's exposed body made his heart begin to race.
Jae was rock hard by then, so when Miyeon came very close to him and then backed away slowly after whispering, "see something you like," and then glancing downward toward his enlarged manhood, Jae was positively swooning. He remembered to take pictures, however, and was finally coming back to earth when his sister dropped her hands and ran them over her body.
She had been so breathtaking in the vide,o but it did no justice to what she looked like in real life. It was like she'd been sculpted from marble. Her breasts hung in part teardrops, a full handful or more. Her pussy was so tiny, he wondered how in the world she fit anything into it. She'd certainly have a hard time taking him. 'Whoa there, fella,' he thought to himself, 'don't move too fast, you're only here to take pictures.'
The pictures continued for a few minutes like this, with Miyeon prancing around the room and taking up different positions: on the bed, on the chair, lying down, kneeling, etc. His favorites were as she stood against the wall; he could just imagine pinning her to the wall and lifting her off her feet with his thrusts. She was so exiting that he couldn't imagine what company would turn her down. She really was way too pretty for porn, he thought to himself.
Then Miyeon paused and stopped moving about on the bed.
"You've been so helpful. I wonder if I could ask… no… that's too much, and I've already asked so much. Never mind." She seemed conflicted but sincere about letting him off the hook.
"What is it Miyeon, I told you I'd help no matter what, and I meant it," Jae assured his sister.
"Okay, but don't freak out. Just say no if you think you can't handle it." The way she phrased that was a little bit of a dig, but he nodded his head in agreement.
"So, the shoot has a second part they say is optional but encouraged," she had a much guiltier look on her face this time. "It involves a guy, and they said they'd really like to see how I perform a little on camera.
"Oh no, are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" Jae was a little worried, was she suggesting that he… have sex with her? He felt light-headed.
"You'd just have to let me take it out and hold it a little bit while you snap pictures, you can pretend it's Jenna or someone else." His little sister looked down at the floor again.
"You're going to what, jerk me off or something." Jae couldn't tell whether he was scare or excited, or both.
"Just for a little bit, I promise I'll be quick about it, I just need to borrow your…" she paused, "you know, your thing for a minute or two."
"This is a little more than taking pictures, Miyeon. And what if Mom or Dad comes home?" Jae questioned her; it was a legitimate concern.
"I talked to Mom after I got off the plane. She said she was going to be late tonight, and Dad never gets home before 8 p.m. anyway. PLEAAASSSEEE Oppa, please!
"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day of innocent little Miyeon begging to hold my dick." Jae laughed as he said it, bringing a smile to his little sister's face. "Yea yeah, go ahead."
"Oh my God I can't thank you enough, once again she hugged him, except this time without anything but his t-shirt between them he could feel his sister's nipples poking into him and much more of the heat of her body as she pressed it against him.
Reaching down between them as she hugged him, she felt over his jeans the long strip along which his hard cock had adjusted to fit in his pants.
"Wow, it can't be that big, can it?" His sister looked up at him.
Jae only shrugged at her, and she dropped to her knees to remove his pants. He pointed the camera down at her and took a few pictures with it zoomed out as much as possible. Her fingers skillfully unbuttoned his jeans and released the zipper. In a few seconds she had him stepping out of his pants and standing before her in only his boxers.
She involuntarily stroked a few times, before pulling the boxers down as well. Out popped Jae's sizable erection.
"Wow Oppa, I never knew." His little sister looked up at him with wide eyes and he snapped a shot of her, it was gorgeous.
She pulled him over to the bed and got on all fours, encouraging him to sit down so she could get a better angle. He held the camera away while she took his shirt off of him and the two of them were naked on the bed together. His sister started stroking his cock, and he was tempted to say something about how she was going further then she'd said she would but the feeling of her tiny hand wrapped around his enormous member was just too good. Plus, she had said she was going to need to touch him, so he couldn't back out on her now. 'Click, click, click," he kept photographing the whole thing.
He held the camera away and attempted to get a more distant shot when he felt something he did not expect. Pushing the hair back around her ear, Miyeon lowered her mouth to the tip of her brother's penis. She popped the whole tip in her mouth before Jae could say anything.
"Miyeon," he said quietly so as not to embarrass her,
"Miyeon!" he repeated, this time with more urgency.
She looked up at him to acknowledge his call as she licked around his sensitive tip, and Jae managed to take a few more pictures. Her eyes searched him for what he was calling to her for, and he started to say.
"Miyeon, I thought you said we weren't going to…..ahhhh"
He couldn't finish the statement for the life of him, for as he tried to, his little sister had begun plunging her head onto his cock and taking it deep into her throat. Further and further she took it until she could take no more, and she pulled it out slowly, not taking her eyes off his for one second. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen a woman do, and it was his sister, for crying out loud.
Miyeon continued to suck him like that for a few minutes, and Jae was in heaven feeling her warm mouth and tongue wrap around him, washing away any feelings he may have had to stop what they were doing. She worked him with her mouth and hand, and he snapped photo after photo of his hot little pornstar sucking him for all he was worth. Slippery with her saliva, Miyeon slid her hand up and down in tandem with her warm mouth, flitting her tongue about and kissing Jae's tip as she reached it.
She slowed to a stop and then gingerly lay back on the bed. Her breasts laid proudly atop her chest, and her narrow waist looked like something he could take into his hands and grasp on to. He was standing a few feet away, and Miyeon reached out with her sock-covered soles, expertly grasping onto his erect cock and pulling it toward her.
"I said I'd only touch it, but if I want the job, the more intense the shots I send, the better the chance…" She made the sweetest puppy dog face she could muster,
" You've helped so much. But…"
"Miyeon, I hope you're not thinking what I think you are…" Jae knew he wanted it, but he also knew it was wrong. Once again, he was conflicted, and the rod that his little sister held in her hands snugly was turning him against himself.
It was as if Miyeon hadn't even heard him protesting, "I owe you so bad, I promise I'll make it up to you. I don't have anybody else!"
"Miyeon, you can't ask me," his voice pleaded as he trailed off. I won't be able to say no."
"Can you put it in, just a little, and take a few pictures?" Her voice rang sweetly in his head. How could he possibly say no? "I promise that's all. Just an inch, and then you can stop."
But Jae knew he wouldn't be able to stop, and he couldn't even respond but walk closer to her and adore her body with his eyes and the camera. He pointed it down at her, his little sister's body lain out for him just like she was in the video he saw. He felt her legs pull from behind as she wrapped them around him and the ridged cotton high-socks rubbed against his skin. It was intoxicating, but not so much as the feeling he experienced as the tip of his cock made contact with his little sister's pussy.
It was soaking wet, and the first push of his sister's heels caused the underside of his shaft to rub all the way up his Miyeon's wet quim. As it made contact with her clit she let out a sweet little moan, reaching for her brother subconsciously. Her fingertips scanned his muscular chest and she pulled him to her lips just after he caught a picture of the incestuous contact his cock was making with her slit.
"Thank you Oppa, you don't know how much this means to me." She kissed him passionately and trailed with more soft kisses to his lips. He could sense deeper meaning in her words regardless of the empty promises coming out of her mouth. He accepted them willingly and kissed her back, camera in one hand and the nape of her neck in the other. His member mashed against her mound harder, and Miyeon moaned into her brother's mouth.
"Anything for you, little one, just tell me what to do." He really loved her and wanted to help her in any way he could, and thoughts of the inappropriateness of their tryst began to eke out from his racing thoughts. He'd stop if she wanted to in a heartbeat; all she had to do was say the word.
"Okay…mmmh…" she cooed as he retreated, and his underside rubbed its way back along her slick outer lips, "just put the tip right there…uhh huh… right on the outside."
She reached down between them and guided it a bit more, and Jae got a fantastic shot of her holding his shaft and placing it in the perfect spot. 'Click, uhhhhh, Click the camera's frames were interrupted by the soft pants of his little sister preparing for him to press into her, only an inch as she'd promised.
"Just a little baby?" He asked her.
"Yeah, just….mmmm… just the tip of it," she said breathily.
He pressed in a bit, not even half of the tip of his cock entered into his sexy little pornstar before he realized he was fucking her. It was beyond his wildest dreams, and by the time he'd sunk only an inch of his pulsing rod into her, she was breathing and gasping heavily.
"Fuckkk……it's too big…..just hold it there….. mmmnghhh," she sounded so sweet, so erotic, "Oh god, take a picture before I cum."
They both giggled, but Miyeon wasn't kidding, his tip alone had her fired up and hornier than she'd ever been. The fact that it was her brother made it so much more naughty and so much more exciting!
'Click, click,' Jae snapped shots of her whole body with his cock only just entering his little sister, they were beautiful photos, he was sure, and the look on Miyeon's face was so genuine, so full of lust and enjoyment that she sold it flawlessly. Someone would be looking at these photos to judge his little sister's potential as a pornstar having no idea that it was the little brunette's brother with his cock lodged inside of her.
Jae felt her socks on his back again. They urged him forward, and he had nowhere to go but in. 'Click,' another half-inch disappeared into Miyeon's tiny frame.
"Miyeon, ohhh, that's more than an inch…." They both knew damn well that it was, but neither Jae or Miyeon planned to do anything about it.
She moaned exquisitely, and another inch deeper he went. Miyeon's toes spread in her schoolgirl knee-highs as his head forged its way into her, and her tunnel spread to accommodate it, and Jae couldn't help but let out a groan himself. 'Click' the camera caught his shaft halfway into his young sister, and the warmth and tightness of it was excruciatingly perfect.
"Oh God, Miyeon, you feel so good. Should I stop, I'm already halfway in!" He was trying desperately to keep taking pictures as he pierced her with his rock-solid staff.
"Just a little further, then you should…..oh god….fuckkkk….I feel like you're going to split me in half….. so big……so fucking good." Her dirty talk was so sexy, he couldn't believe his ears. Almost all the way in his sister now, Jae snapped a picture with one hand and reached out to grab her breast in the other. It filled his hand like it was meant to be and he could feel the upright nipple poking into his palm like a marble. He massaged her breast and took another picture like that as Miyeon reached down to guide in the last inch of his enormous dick.
"Then I should…ohh… what, Miyeon? Stop?" He would if she wanted to, but she felt so good he sincerely hoped he never had to leave.
"Uhh huh….. yeah, we should st…..ohhhh, it just feels so good." She was arching her back as she had in the photos before, and this time, Jae pointed the camera to get her doing it while skewered on his pole. He bottomed out inside of her and felt his balls press against her firm cheeks.
"I'm gonna pull out now, mmm, okay baby?" Jae could hardly say it; he felt so good because of his sister's unbelievably tight tunnel wrapping him up in warmth and wetness. She nodded in agreement as Jae withdrew from his baby sister's slick warmth. The friction created as his head rubbed along her insides made Miyeon's eyes roll back, and Jae grabbed firmly at her waist to ground himself from the pleasure. As Miyeon's lips gave way to his bulbous head and he withdrew that final inch, Jae looked down for some response from his sister.
"Maybe just one…..one more time…..ohhh god… oh fuckkk…. Just to make sure we got good photos….mmmh." She was now closing her eyes as Jae's hand wrapped around her side as he'd imagined grabbing it. It was pliable in his hands yet warm and firm. He took a picture of his fingers making an impression on her hip as he removed his cock from his sister's womb and then began plunging it in again. Miyeon reached out for him and held her hand over his as her other held his sensitive balls and caressed them with her fingers. She worshipped him with her hands and her moans as he sank his entire cock into Miyeon faster this time. Inch by inch ,he plummeted into her, and her insides could barely take him for all the tightness her pussy was displaying.
"Ohhhhh….shitttt…… again…" she gasped.
He pulled out and shoved back in, barely taking any pictures now. It was doubtful the camera was getting anything good. He simply couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of his cock buried in his little sister's quim.
"I think we got it all Miyeon…. Fuck that's tight…. what do you want now?" He savored the feeling of what could be his last time burying his cock inside his little sister.
"One… moruhhhhhh." She didn't finish what she was saying over her moans of ecstasy.
"What was that Miyeon? Fuck…so good…what do you want?"
"Ohhhhhhh…. Just shut up and…. Fuck….. fuck me already!"
Jae took a second to process what he'd just heard before Miyeon snatched the camera from his hand and quickly cast it onto the pillows beside them. Taking his hands in hers she guided them to her ample breasts and massaged them into herself, leaving them there and opting to put hers around his waist and encourage him inside of her. Jae obliged his sister, fucking her as she'd asked and picking up the speed at which he buried every inch of himself into her. He could see her squirm and flex beneath him, hoping he was not causing her pain as he extracted so much pleasure from her sex.
He took her waist with both hands and withdrew his cock from her perfect little pussy. It was hard to believe it fit inside her, the opening barely looked big enough for two fingers. But as he placed his tip back at her soft, wet hole, and pressed inside, it gave way to her slick channel and his cock found its home once again.
His hands mashed into her waist as he used it for leverage to begin fucking his sister harder little by little. She grabbed his wrists to hold on too and he began to withdraw and sink into her faster, her body pressing into the bed under the force of his thrusts.
"Oh my godd…. You are so fucking…..mghhhh…. huge… I love you…. And your cock!
"I love you too baby, I could do this forever." He really could, and his breaths became laden with effort and pleasure. He drove into her and upon withdrawal said: "My baby sister…" plunging once again… "I'm fucking my…. " Miyeon smiled as he withdrew and slammed her, finishing: "my hot….little….sister."
Jae watched his cock disappear into Miyeon, and he could nearly see her abdomen yielding to his invading shaft, expanding and contracting with the path of his rock-hard staff. She was so little compared to him, yet she fucked him right back and her breasts bounced joyfully as he fucked her with reckless abandon.
Reaching down now, he brought his lips to hers kissed her sensuously and lovingly, their tongues tangling and his hands exploring her body as he pressed his abdomen to hers and caressed as much of her body as he could get his hands on.
"Mmghhhh…. Baby… fuck me harder…" Miyeon shouted to him
Jae scooped his sister up in his arms and sat down on the bed, reversing their positions so they were both seated, and Miyeon could begin to fuck him herself. She kneeled on the bed and lifted herself up, and then down, again and again while bucking and howling her pleasure on top of her brother with his cock buried inside of her. Jae began meeting her thrusts with his own pelvis and a soft slapping sound accompanied their hips colliding and his cock becoming fully lodged in their incestuous romp time after time.
He lifted her up in that same position and began to bounce her on his cock a few times. She giggled in the middle of a moan and it came out sounding so adorably sexy that they both shared a smile and a laugh as Jae continued to fuck his sister, standing straight with her supported by his strong arms. He walked over to the wall, pinning her against it, still lifted off the ground and accepting full, powerful thrusts inside of her.
The coolness of the wall, together with the heat of their exchange, had Miyeon ready and oh-so willing to come. Beads of sweat formed liked freckles atop her rosy cheeks, and Jae buried himself in her neck, kissing and suckling at her smooth, sweet skin with his lips and eliciting further moans from the adorable pornstar he was fucking against the wall. A tiny drip of sweat formed on Miyeon's nose and she blew it away with pursed lips and a pre-orgasm gasp of air. Jae adjusted his approach angle just a bit, but it struck Miyeon in a spot that widened her eyes in shock and excruciating pleasure.
"Oh…..My…..God, FUCCKKK…..keep going right…….mnnnnhhh…. there!" She screamed as he worked the angle and stimulated her g-spot with his large rod plunge after plunge. Shocked that he had not yet climaxed into the tiny pornstar he had pinned against the wall, he was far from complaining as he pushed her closer to her own release. Another stroke and he could feel his sister gasping for air; he pulled back from kissing her neck and looked her in the eyes. The brilliant green irises of her pleading eyes begged him to push her over the edge, so, maintaining the way he was spearing her against the wall, Jae did just that.
"Uhhhhhhh…. Oppaaaa……Unnnnnggghhh," She begged him.
Thrust, gasp, thrust, Miyeon was so immersed in pleasure she thought she'd lose consciousness. One more burying of her brother's cock sent her into one of the most intense orgasms of her life. Her pussy flooded with the wetness of her climax and eased her brother's domination of her sweet tunnel. She stayed there, pinned and helpless to stop her cumming until she stopped, which took a while. When she her cunt finally stopped quaking around Jae's invading member, she could see that her brother was exhausted. She loved him so much for the orgasm he'd given her and wanted to pay him back tenfold. She kissed him hard, biting softly at his lower lip and said,
"Let me down stud, let me do a little of the work, huh?"
Jae smiled and let his beautiful sister slowly down to her outstretched toes, still firmly planted and completely hard inside of her. The motion of her sliding down the wall urged his shaft deeper into her, the residual effects of her orgasm and Jae's ever-approaching one causing them both to grasp at each other when they felt it.
Miyeon took hold of his hardness with one hand, and, standing back on her tip-toes, slid her brother's cock out of her pussy in one long and reluctant draw. The cool air made Jae want nothing more than to slam his sister against the wall once more, and Miyeon felt terrifyingly empty without her brother's huge cock filling her up, but she quickly pushed Jae back to the bed and jumped on top of him before either of them could complain but for a second's longing glance.
She squeezed his shaft between her pink lips and his own abdomen and wiggled there atop him. The contact made him anxious to be back inside her, but with his sister in control now, there was nothing he could do now but hope that she'd soon place him back home inside her. Miyeon grinned naughtily as she slid her hips seductively over his shaft and her strong, toned thighs straddled him, making as much contact between their two bodies as possible.
"Don't tease me anymore Miyeon. I can't take it," Jae complained,
"Ohhh, what's the matter big bro, I thought you said we couldn't do this."
Jae only gave her a displeased look; they were far passed considering the morality of the situation and he wanted only to be planted firmly back where he could savor the heat and snugness that Miyeon's pussy offered. "Say please… mmmhh," she was still rubbing her clit up and down the underside of her brother's shaft and stopping millimeters from the spot where he could slip inside before denying Jae the satisfaction.
"Ugggh," he gave in, now it was his turn to beg, "Please Miyeon…"
She leaned down on top of him, her luscious tits hanging down and then pressing firmly to his chest as she kissed him and reached down between them. She kissed him and took hold of his cock as she lifted up her hips to allow him entrance. Lingering just a moment, Miyeon opened her eyes long enough to meet Jae's and then sank down onto his cock as he'd asked.
They both gasped in sweet, sweet relief. It was just as good as the first time, and as his little sister picked up her hips to slide him almost entirely out of her, he took her hips in his firm hands and followed the path they took back down to meet his pelvis. He pawed at and worshipped her like the beautiful pornstar she was (or intended to be) and enjoyed the feeling of her tight pussy walls hugging his member.
"Oh God," Miyeon was cooing once again, glad to have her brother filling her up again, "I love your cock, uhhhhhh." Her voice was so sultry he could hardly take it. "You like fucking your….ohhhhh Oppa….your little sister……mmmmnhhh? Your little pornstar?"
"God yes," Jae greeted her with his affirmation and the upward thrust of his hips.
He was so deep in her now; every inch of his cock was being stimulated by the grasp of her tight quim. Jae was squeezing her hips, her ass, caressing her soft skin and delving into it with his fingers. Again and again he met her hips and she dropped down onto him. Her breasts bounced awesomely as she fucked him, and Jae watched as his little sister's body flexed and writhed above him.
At one point she ceased bouncing atop him instead opting to stay locked hip to hip with him, rotating her hips and adding a new kind of stimulation to their incestuous fucking. Moaning louder, Miyeon rubbed her clit against him hard, and Jae's cock pulsed and slid about inside of her pussy so amazingly that both brother and sister were headed to release fast. Pressing her to him with his hands and working her left and right, round and round, Jae held his sister and helped her to fuck him just the way she wanted.
"Cum for me Miyeon, God I love fucking you!"
"You first baby, ooohhhhhh," Miyeon was starting to lift her hips off her brother again and return to fucking him in earnest. "Cum inside me Oppa, fuck me and cum inside me."
Miyeon lunged forward and pressed her lips against her brother, rolling to the side as she did so with her brother's hard shaft still lodged inside of her. They lay there, facing each other when the little pornstar wrapped a leg over her brother's hips and pulled his pelvis closer to her, urging him to resume his conquest of her body. Jae got her message and began to slide his cock in and out of his sister once more, spurred on by the return thrusts of his sister.
Seconds from release now, Jae pressed a hand between them to admire with his hands her beautiful breasts, palming and caressing in rhythm their fucking. They exchanged exasperated kisses and together struggled to focus on anything but their incestuous coupling and the pleasure it was giving them. Jae could feel his young sister entering the throws of another orgasm, and Miyeon, through her haze could sense her brother there as well. She ran her hands through his hair just so, the way she had since they were young. Kissing him and pulling away to look in his eyes, Miyeon whispered:
"Cum in me baby, uhhhhhhh please…. Cum inside your naughty little sister's pussy."
Gazing eye to eye they thrust their hips against each other, laying side by side kissing, fucking and needing each other. Jae shook his head yes to assure his little sister he was going to give her what she wanted, to coat her insides with her brother's seed. Miyeon began to gasp; the rhythmic motion of her hips becoming less fluid. Jae picked up the slack, desperately ready to release into his little sister. As Miyeon's orgasm began to wrack her body, Jae held onto her frame and pulled his cock just a millimeter from entirely out of his little sister's pussy before pressing it into her for one last complete, incredible stroke.
Miyeon was nearly howling as she began squirming next to her brother and he began pumping his seed into his sister. She could feel it, warm and oh so amazing as her brother came in her tiny little pussy. Her quim clenched and encouraged him to continue, rope after rope straight into his baby sister's womb. They were both so immersed in the pleasure of each other's bodies that neither cared about the risk of Jae freely filling Miyeon with his semen nor that it was his own sister. They simply loved each other, loved fucking each other and continued to do so as Jae held his sister in his arms as she shuddered and whimpered through a mind-blowing orgasm. Jae pressed ever deeper into his little sister, seeking complete immersion of his staff in his Miyeon's loving tunnel.
They could feel the products of Jae's orgasm working its way through Miyeon's tight pussy and she only enjoyed it the more as her climax echoed through her beautiful body. They were wrapped tightly, legs entangled, hands searching and lips seeking each other's between attempts to regain breath. They remained so for an indiscriminate amount of time before finally both had extracted as much pleasure as was available from the other.
Jae slowly, reluctantly, slid his still semi-erect shaft from inside Miyeon and saw her eyes filled with distress and the afterglow of her orgasm. She pulled him closer when he was finally entirely removed from her, as if their closeness would somehow fill the void left in her empty quim. At least, it was mostly empty but for the thick, white semen peeking between her lips. Miyeon smiled and Jae saw and admired the look on her face as she buried her head in the nape of his neck. Lightly perspiring, freshly fucked and full of her brother's cum she was more beautiful than ever. Jae never wanted to let go. They simply lay there, holding each other and emanating love through their contact. Miyeon spoke first:
"Two times!" She was still obviously worn and breathing heavily from what she'd just been through. "I've never been fucked so well in my life." Miyeon was positively glowing, with a smile that would not soon leave her cute face.
"You were…..are….. so amazing, Miyeon. Thank you for…" Jae struggled with the words, and his little sister giggled into his neck; it tickled him. "For…..everything."
They both had smiles a mile wide when Miyeon spoke once again: "I hope it's not too strange for you finding out how I've been making a little extra money on the side. I've only done one scene and I knew the guy it was with." She had a hint of worry in her voice.
"Strange? Not; you are so gorgeous. I think the whole world would want to have you the way I just did. Though I am going to try and talk you into fucking only me from now on, that was incredible."
"Bad boy!" Miyeon was laughing sweetly then.
"I have something to confess, though," Jae started, "I saw an envelope in the mail before you got home, and I may have opened it. It was a copy of the DVD from the company that you did the scene for…." Jae thought she might be mad and awaited her response.
"Hmmm… very bad boy… you knew all along? Did you, you know, watch it?" She didn't sound angry at all, flattered actually.
"I may have, you know, flipped through the scene a little bit, just to see if it was true. God you were so beautiful! I just got too jealous I think that some other guy was… you know." Jae was sincere in complimenting her, and Miyeon hugged him closer.
"Awww…. Okay well as long as we're being honest…."
Miyeon pulled back a bit, and Jae's eyes searched hers for what she would say.
"So…. I may not have been straight with you when you took pictures earlier." She had half-guilty, half-naughty look on her face that Jae thought looked extraordinarily sexy.
"And….?" He questioned.
"I may have made you do more than they asked for," she revealed as Jae was starting to crack a smile, laughing then and unable even to pretend to be upset, "In fact, I didn't need a guy in the scene at all, I kinda tricked you into fucking me."
Laughing harder, Jae quickly retorted, "I've never lucked out so well after being tricked!"
"I just really wanted to fuck you, I kind of always have, and I have a feeling you might have wanted that at least a little too?" Her eyes were searching his now.
"You've got me there," Jae said back. Miyeon sighed a little in relief after her confession.
They giggled and held each other close, remarkably content and looking forward to the time ahead. Jae was far from being done with his sister and her gorgeous body, and Miyeon intended to fuck her brother as many times as she could from then on. If their first experience was any evidence for the future, they had much fun ahead of them.
(G-idle's Miyeon X Male Reader) Wordcount: 1256 words
You stand backstage. The crowd still echoes through the walls like a distant heartbeat. The air smells of sweat and stage smoke, mixed with the faint floral perfume that always clings to Miyeon. She's just finished her performance, her white dress shimmering under the dim lights - cheap chiffon layers ruffled like a forgotten wedding cake, studded with fake crystals that catch the glow from the equipment cases. The strapless top hugs her chest, pushing up her small, perky breasts, and the skirt flares out short, barely covering her thighs. Black boots climb her legs, and that silly leather hat perches on her head, her long black hair cascading down like ink. She looks like a doll, your doll, ready for whatever you want.
Miyeon spots you leaning against a flight case, her lips forming an excited smile. She saunters over, microphone still dangling from her hand.
"Oppa."
She purrs, her voice breathy from the performance, eyes wide and innocent even though you both know she's anything but. As your free use slut, she lives for this. Any time, any place, no questions. You own her body, and she thrives on it.
You don't waste words. Your hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist, pulling her close. She gasps softly, but her body melts against yours. The dress rustles as you press her back against the cold metal of the case. Her hat tilts, but she doesn't fix it. Instead, she tilts her head back, exposing her neck, waiting for your touch. You lean in, lips brushing her ear.
"On your knees.”
She obeys instantly, dropping down without hesitation. Her knees part slightly as she settles. The white skirt pools around her. Her hands reach for your belt, unbuckling it with ease. You watch her, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips, eyes locked on yours. She pulls down your zipper, freeing your cock, already hard from just looking at her in that ridiculous outfit.
Miyeon wraps her hand around your shaft, stroking slowly at first, her grip firm but teasing.
"You like me like this, don't you?"
Her voice is a mix of playfulness and need. You nod, threading your fingers through her hair, knocking the hat off, making it tumble to the floor. She leans forward, her mouth opening wide, tongue flat as she takes you in. The warmth envelops you, her lips stretching around your length. She bobs her head, sucking with that perfect rhythm she knows you love, her cheeks hollowing out. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, smearing her glossy lipstick, but she doesn't stop. You thrust gently, feeling the back of her throat, and she gags just a little, eyes watering, but she pushes deeper, eager to please. Miyeon's yours, her mouth a wet, tight heaven. You grip her hair tighter, guiding her pace faster now. She moans around your cock, the vibration sending jolts through your body. Her free hand slips under her skirt, touching herself, but you pull her head back sharply.
"No. That's mine too."
She whimpers, nodding, her hand dropping away. You pull out of her mouth, making her whine in disappointment. She looks up, waiting for what’s next. You haul her up by the arms, spinning her around to face the case. She braces herself, palms flat on the lid, ass pushing back toward you instinctively. The dress hikes up easily. It's so short, so cheap, perfect for this. Underneath, she's bare, no panties, just like you told her to be tonight.
You slide your hand between her thighs, finding her already soaked. Your fingers tease her folds, circling her clit, and she bucks against you, a soft cry escaping.
"Please…"
You don't make her wait. Positioning yourself, you thrust in, filling her in one smooth motion. She's tight, always so tight, her walls clenching around you like a vice. You grab her hips, the fabric bunching under your fingers, and start pounding.
Miyeon arches her back. Her head falls forward. The dress's layers flutter with each slap of skin on skin. You reach around, yanking down the top of her dress, exposing her breasts. They bounce with your rhythm, nipples hard in the cool air. You pinch one, rolling it between your fingers, and she moans louder, pushing back to meet your thrusts.
"Harder, oppa. Use me."
You do. Your pace quickens, the sound echoing in the dim space. Sweat beads on her skin, making the white fabric cling translucently. You slide a hand up her thigh, over the boot, then back to her ass, spanking lightly. She yelps, clenching tighter. The free use agreement means no limits. She's your toy, and tonight, in this backstage chaos, you take full advantage.
Pulling out suddenly, you turn her around again, lifting her onto the case. Her legs wrap around you, boots digging into your back. You enter her again, deeper this time, her arms around your neck, nails scratching your shoulders. Her face is close, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. You kiss her roughly, tasting her lust on her tongue, and she kisses back hungrily, like she's starving. You thrust up, hitting that spot inside her that makes her moan. She breaks the kiss, head thrown back, crying out.
"Oppa!”
She whines, body shaking. You feel her pulsate around you. It pushes you over the edge. You pull out just in time, stroking yourself, cuming onto her thigh and the white dress. The cum stains the fabric, marking her as yours, cheap and ruined.
Miyeon slumps against you, breathing heavy, a satisfied smile on her lips. She picks up her hat, placing it back on her head at a jaunty angle.
Later, in the green room, the rest of the group jokes around a little, but Miyeon's eyes keep flicking to you. You sit on the couch, patting your lap. She perches there without a word, her back to your chest. Under the skirt, your hand sneaks up, fingers dipping into her still wet pussy. She bites her lip, stifling a moan as you finger her slowly, thumb on her clit. The others don't notice. Or if they do, they pretend not to. She's yours, after all.
She grinds subtly, riding your fingers, her breath quickening. You add a second finger, curling them, and she grips your arm, nails digging in.
"Quiet."
She nods, but a small whimper escapes. You speed up, feeling her tighten again. She cums quietly, shuddering in your lap, juices coating your hand.
The drive home is tense. In the back of the van, tinted windows hiding you, she straddles you without prompting. The dress hikes up, and she sinks down onto your cock, riding you slow at first, then faster as the road bumps jostle you both. Her breasts bounce free again, and you suck on a nipple, biting gently. She gasps, hands on your shoulders, hips rolling. The van's motion adds to it, every turn pushing you deeper. You thrust up, meeting her, and she cums again, soaking your lap.
At home, the door barely closes before you bend her over the kitchen counter. The hat falls off again, rolling away. You flip up the skirt, spanking her ass red, then slide in from behind. She's exhausted but eager, pushing back.
"More."
She pleads.
You pound into her until you both collapse.
In bed, she curls against you, the stained dress discarded on the floor.
"Good night, oppa."
She murmurs, but even as she drifts off, her hand reaches for you, ready if you want more.
You pull up to the lake house in your beat-up SUV, tires crunching on the gravel driveway, and the second you step out, you’re hit with it—this place is way more stunning than the pics online. The air smells like pine and damp earth, and the lake stretches out in front of you, its surface flat and gray under a thick blanket of clouds. The house itself is this cozy, modern thing—wood and glass, with a big deck overlooking the lake. It’s got this vibe, like it’s begging you to chill out and forget the world for a while. You’re already thinking, Shit, if this week goes as good as it looks, maybe I’ll buy this place. Peace, quiet, and nature all around—perfect for your photography, which is the whole damn reason you’re here. And you’d bet your camera nobody’s around for miles—pure solitude, just how you like it—until you catch a faint wisp of smoke curling up from the chimney of that dark house across the lake, and now your solo trip’s got some unexpected company popping off.
You pop the trunk and grab your gear—camera bag slung over your shoulder, a duffel with clothes, and a cooler stuffed with groceries you snagged earlier. Your day job’s nothing special, just some remote gig doing data entry for a logistics company. It’s boring as hell—punching numbers into spreadsheets, tracking shipments, answering emails from people who can’t figure out their own schedules. Pays the bills, though, and it’s flexible enough to let you fuck off to places like this whenever you want. Photography’s where your heart’s at. You’ve been at it for years, lugging your Canon everywhere, chasing the perfect shot. Landscapes mostly—sunsets, forests, water, anything that moves you. You’re no pro, but you’re good, and you’ve got a decent following on Insta for it. This trip? It’s all about that—getting out, breathing, and nailing some killer shots.
The lake house sits on this little peninsula, surrounded by trees so thick you can barely see the dirt road you came in on. It’s isolated, yeah, but not too far out. There’s a small city—more like a big town, really—about twenty minutes back. You stopped there on the way in, hit up a grocery store for the basics: beer, burgers, some frozen pizzas, and a bag of apples ‘cause you’re trying to be healthy or whatever. They’ve got a coffee shop and a gas station too, so you’re not totally cut off. Still, out here, it’s just you, the water, and the woods. No traffic, no neighbors blasting music—pure silence, except for the occasional bird or ripple on the lake.
You haul your stuff inside, drop it on the hardwood floor, and take a sec to check the place out. Big windows everywhere, letting in that soft, cloudy light. The living room’s got a plush couch and a stone fireplace you’re already itching to use. Kitchen’s sleek, all stainless steel and granite, and the bedroom upstairs has a view that makes you wanna cry—straight across the lake. Speaking of which, you step out onto the deck, hands in your pockets, and squint through the gloom. On the far shore, maybe half a mile away, there's that other house. Two stories, painted some dark color—navy or black, hard to tell with the weather. It’s got these big windows too, glowing faintly, and there’s a car parked out front. A white sedan, nothing fancy. There's definitely someone there, you think, and it weirds you out a little. You weren’t expecting company out here, not this close. The mystery of it nags at you—who the hell are they? Vacationers? Locals? You shake it off for now, but your eyes keep drifting back to that house as you unpack.
The clouds hang low, heavy with the promise of rain, and the air’s got that cool, damp bite to it. You grab your camera—couldn’t resist—and step back outside, adjusting the lens. The lake’s like a mirror, reflecting the sky, and the trees are all moody greens and browns. You snap a few shots, playing with the exposure, already imagining how they’ll look edited. This spot’s a goldmine; you can feel it. But that house across the water—it’s still there in the corner of your frame, pulling your focus. You zoom in, just curious, but it’s too far to make out much. Still, you’ve got this itch now, this tiny spark of intrigue. Whoever’s over there, they’ve got no idea you’re watching.
You’re fiddling with your camera, trying to frame up a shot of some birds skimming the lake, when movement catches your eye. Two figures step out of that dark house across the water. Girls, both of them, and even from this distance, they stand out. One’s got silky brown hair that catches the dull light, flowing down her back like she just stepped out of a shampoo ad. The other’s got jet-black hair, shorter, framing her face. They’re dressed casual—leggings and hoodies, nothing fancy, just comfy vibes. The black-haired one’s got a phone pressed to her ear, pacing a little, while the brown-haired one hovers close, hands in her pockets. You freeze for a sec, then casually swing your camera away, pretending to focus on the lake, the trees, anything but them. Don’t be that guy, you tell yourself, heart picking up a bit. Last thing you need is them thinking some random dude’s creeping on them with a lens.
But your curiosity’s a bitch. After a minute, you sneak the camera back their way, zooming in just enough to see them better. And then—shit—they’re looking right at you. Like, right at you. Your stomach drops, and you yank the camera down, turning your head so fast you almost tweak your neck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can already hear the headlines: “Outsider Caught Stalking Innocent Girls With Telephoto Lens.” You’re not that guy, but try explaining that across a lake. Hoping they didn’t get a good look, you ditch the deck and hustle to your car, popping the trunk like you’ve got urgent business. You grab the cooler and a bag of groceries, hauling them inside, your pulse still thudding in your ears.
You’re not out there five minutes before you’ve gotta go back for the rest. Stepping onto the deck again, you freeze—they’re coming your way. Like, actually walking around the lake toward your side. Your brain scrambles. Bolting inside might look shady as hell, but standing here like a deer in headlights? Not much better. You opt to stay, fiddling with something in the trunk—your spare tire, maybe?—pretending you’re too busy to notice them closing in. Your palms are sweaty, and you’re half-braced for them to start yelling or waving a phone with 911 already dialed.
“Hey!” a voice calls out, bright and chill, not pissed. You glance up, and the black-haired girl’s waving at you, a little grin on her face. You wave back, tentative, still expecting the vibe to shift. “Didn’t know anyone was over here,” she says as they get closer, her tone all friendly-like. “This place was a total dump last year—falling apart, windows smashed, the works. Looks dope now, though. They fix it up?”
You nod, relaxing a bit. “Yeah, rented it for the week. Guess it got a glow-up since then.” Up close, she’s got this energy—outgoing, loud in a good way. She sticks out her hand. “I’m Miyeon. This is Sana.” She jerks her thumb at the brown-haired girl, who gives you a small smile and a nod, quieter, maybe shyer.
“Sana, hey,” you say your name as you shake Miyeon's hand, then glancing at Sana. “Yeah, I’m just crashing here for a bit. You guys local?”
“Nah,” Miyeon says, leaning against your car like she owns it. “This house over there? My parents’. Been coming here forever, usually with a crew of friends. It’s our spot.” She gestures across the lake, where that dark two-story looms.
“Friends?” you ask, glancing between them. “Where’s the rest of the squad?”
Miyeon’s face falls a little, and Sana looks down at her shoes. “Yeah, that’s the shitty part,” Miyeon says, voice dipping. “They just called me—like, right before we came over. There’s a fuckin’ landslide or something on the main road in. Rain’s been nuts, and it’s blocked off. They were driving up from a couple hours away, so they just turned back. Not worth the hassle.”
“Damn,” you say, genuinely feeling for them. “That sucks. So what’s the plan now?”
Miyeon shrugs, kicking a pebble. “Hang out, I guess. Wait for the road to clear, then head home. Not much else to do.”
Sana pipes up then, her voice softer but curious. “That camera,” she says, nodding at it slung over your shoulder. “You a photographer or something?”
“Nah, just a hobby,” you say, brushing it off. “I work some boring-ass data job—spreadsheets and shit. This is what keeps me sane. Love shooting nature, landscapes, whatever catches my eye.”
Miyeon perks up. “You got an Insta for it? Let’s see.” You hesitate, then rattle off your handle. She pulls out her phone, taps away, and Sana leans over her shoulder as they scroll. “Yo, these are good,” Miyeon says, legit impressed. “Like, really good. You’re underselling yourself, dude.”
“Yeah,” Sana adds, her shy edge melting a bit. “The lighting in this one? Wow.” She points at her screen, and you feel a dumb little rush of pride.
“Thanks,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m here to chill and snap some shots of the lake, the woods, you know. Recharge.”
“Smart move,” Miyeon says. “We were gonna swim out there—” she nods at the pier stretching into the lake—“but it’s freezing. Usually it’s warm enough this time of year, but not today.”
“Global warming’s fucking with everything,” you toss out, and they both nod like, yep, that tracks.
Then Miyeon tilts her head, grinning. “Hey, since you’re Mr. Camera Guy, how about you take a pic of us out on the pier? Something to remember this weird-ass trip by?”
You blink, caught off guard, but they’re both looking at you expectantly. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you say, slinging the camera off your shoulder. “Let’s do it.”
They lead the way to the pier, Miyeon strutting ahead like she’s on a mission, Sana trailing a step behind, sneaking little glances at you. You’re still buzzing from the fact they’re cool with you—more than cool, actually friendly. You follow the girls down to the pier, boots thudding against the weathered wooden planks. The lake stretches out around you, still as glass under the heavy, gray sky, and the air’s got that sharp, pre-rain chill. Miyeon’s practically bouncing as she strides to the end, her black hair swinging, while Sana trails a little slower, her silky brown locks catching the faint breeze. They stop at the edge, the water lapping gently below, and turn to face you. “Alright, camera guy,” Miyeon says with a grin, planting her hands on her hips. “Work your magic.”
You lift the Canon, squinting through the viewfinder, and—damn—they’re gorgeous. Like, unfairly photogenic. Miyeon’s all confidence, popping a playful pose, one leg bent, head tilted, flashing a smirk that’s equal parts goofy and charming. Sana’s quieter about it, crossing her arms and giving a shy smile, but there’s something striking in the way she stands, the way her hair frames her face. You snap a few shots—wide angles with the lake behind them, then some tighter ones, playing with the depth of field so the cloudy horizon blurs out. Miyeon keeps it lively, throwing out dumb poses—peace signs, a fake pout—while Sana giggles and follows her lead, loosening up bit by bit.
“Yo, let’s see!” Miyeon calls after a dozen clicks, jogging over with Sana in tow. You flip the camera around, scrolling through the shots on the screen, and their faces light up. “Holy shit, these are fire,” Miyeon says, leaning in so close her shoulder brushes yours. “You sure you’re not a pro?”
“They’re so good,” Sana adds, her voice softer but just as impressed. “Like, we actually look cool.” The pics are sharp, the girls popping against the moody backdrop, their colors—black hoodie, brown hair—standing out in the gloom. You nailed the focus, the composition, everything.
“Yeah, well, you guys make it easy,” you say, shrugging, though you’re secretly stoked they like them. “Wish the weather wasn’t so shitty, though. This light’s all flat and gray—makes it look like you’re in some creepy thriller flick or something.”
Miyeon’s grin falters for a sec, and she nudges you with her elbow. “Dude, don’t even joke about that. We’re already kinda freaked out being alone over there.”
You laugh, raising an eyebrow. “What, you think some axe murderer’s hiding in the woods? Any crimes around here I should know about?”
She shakes her head, smirking but with a little edge. “Not that I’ve heard of, thank God. Just… it’s quiet, you know? Too quiet sometimes.”
“Fair,” you say, glancing out at the lake, the stillness of it almost eerie now that she’s put the thought in your head. “Well, if you guys need anything—someone to fend off the boogeyman or whatever—just hit me up. I’m right across the water.”
Miyeon’s eyes spark up, and she pulls out her phone. “Bet. What’s your Insta again? I’ll follow you, and you can DM me those pics.” You give her the handle, and she taps it in, tossing you hers in return—@miyeonnotmignon, which makes you snort ‘cause it’s so her. “Send ‘em whenever,” she says. “I need these for the grid.”
Sana glances at the sky, tugging her hoodie tighter. “We should head back. Looks like rain’s coming soon.”
“Yeah, true,” Miyeon agrees, squinting up at the clouds, which are starting to clump thicker, darker. “Don’t wanna get stuck out here when it dumps.” She turns to you, flashing that big, easy grin. “Enjoy the place, dude. Don’t let the thriller vibes get to you.”
You smirk. “I’ll try. You guys stay safe over there. Don’t go summoning ghosts or anything.”
Sana giggles at that, and Miyeon just rolls her eyes, waving as they start back down the pier. “See ya, camera guy!” she calls over her shoulder. You wave back, watching them go—Miyeon’s loud laugh echoing faintly, Sana’s quieter figure beside her—until they hit the shore and start the trek around the lake. You linger a minute, camera still in hand, the pier creaking under your weight. The air’s heavier now, the first hint of rain prickling your skin. You glance at their house across the water, its dark shape fuzzing out in the haze, and that little spark of mystery flares up again. They’re cool, way cooler than you expected. And something about them—maybe Miyeon’s loud charm, maybe Sana’s shy warmth—sticks with you as you head back to your own place, the promise of rain rumbling in the distance.
—
It’s been a few hours since you got back from the pier, and the world outside’s turned into a damn monsoon. Rain’s hammering the windows like it’s pissed off, streaking down the glass in relentless sheets, and the wind’s howling through the trees, making the whole lake house groan. Inside, though, it’s cozy—borderline toasty, thanks to the heater humming away in the corner and the fireplace lit downstairs. You’re sprawled on the bed upstairs, legs kicked out, a half-empty beer sweating on the nightstand from dinner—frozen pizza and some chips, nothing fancy. The generator’s chugging along out back, but you’re keeping an eye on the lights, half-worried it’s gonna crap out from all the juice the heater’s pulling. Last thing you need is to freeze your ass off out here.
You’ve got your laptop propped on your thighs, scrolling through the shots you took earlier—the pier pics of Miyeon and Sana, plus some moody lake stuff before the sky opened up. The girls’ photos are gold, even with the flat light. Miyeon’s got this wild, carefree energy in every frame, while Sana’s softer, her shy smile sneaking through. You tweak a couple in Lightroom, bumping the contrast, and damn, they’re Instagram-worthy for sure.
Eventually, you shut the laptop and roll off the bed, stretching. You can’t help it—your eyes drift to the window. It’s pitch-black out there, the rain turning everything into a blurry void. You press your forehead to the cold glass, squinting across the lake. Their house is just a smudge in the dark, but the lights are on—warm little squares glowing through the storm. You wonder what they’re up to. Probably curled up on a couch, watching some cheesy rom-com or maybe a horror flick, given Miyeon’s half-joking about being spooked. Popcorn, blankets, the whole vibe. You picture it for a sec—Miyeon yapping over the movie, Sana giggling at her—and it’s kinda cute.
Then—blink—the lights across the lake go out. All of them, at once. You blink too, like maybe your eyes are screwing with you, but nope, it’s dark over there now. Weird as hell. Your first thought is they hit the sack, but it’s too sudden, too synchronized. No way they flipped every switch at the exact same second. A power outage? Maybe the storm fried something. You stare into the blackness, chewing your lip. Okay, maybe you’re overthinking it. You’ve been out here alone too long, and those two are the only blips of life in this wilderness. It’s not like you’re obsessed or anything—they’re just… there. Still, it bugs you. You shake it off, muttering “whatever” to yourself, and decide to crash. Bed’s calling, and the rain’s drumming hard enough to knock you out.
You’re halfway to brushing your teeth when—thump thump—a sound cuts through the storm. You freeze, toothbrush dangling, listening. Imagination, right? This place creaks all the time. But then it comes again, louder—THUMP THUMP THUMP—straight from the front door downstairs. Your heart kicks up, and you spit into the sink, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Could be a branch or some shit blowing around in the wind, but it sounded too deliberate. You grab your phone, thumb hovering over the flashlight app, and creep to the stairs, ears straining. The rain’s deafening, but there’s something else—a muffled voice maybe?
You pad down to the first floor, barefoot on the cold wood, nerves buzzing. The knocking’s real, no doubt now, and it’s insistent. “Who the fuck—” you mutter, snagging a jacket from the couch and shrugging it on. You’re half-expecting a drenched hiker or some rando stranded in the storm, but part of you—okay, a big part—wonders if it’s them. You flip on the porch light, yank the door open, and—bam—a flashlight beam hits you square in the face, blinding you for a sec.
“Shit, sorry!” a familiar voice says, and the light drops. It’s Miyeon, soaked to the bone, her black hair plastered to her face, hoodie clinging like a second skin. Sana’s right behind her, brown hair dripping, looking like a drowned kitten in her oversized sweater. They’re both shivering, rain streaming off them, pooling on your doorstep.
“Jesus, you guys okay?” you say, stepping back to let them in. “What the hell happened?”
Miyeon’s teeth are chattering, but she’s still got that spark. “Our generator fucking died, dude. No lights, no heat, nothing. We’ve got no clue what’s wrong, and it’s creepy as shit over there. Can you—please—come take a look?”
“Yeah, of course,” you say, already zipping up your jacket. You grab your boots from the mat, shoving them on while they hover by the door, dripping and miserable. “You sure you don’t wanna dry off first? You’re gonna catch pneumonia or something.”
Sana shakes her head, hugging herself. “We just wanna get it fixed. It’s freezing, and I swear I heard something moving in the dark.”
“Probably just the wind,” Miyeon says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “Still, let’s go. I’m not sleeping in a blackout.”
You snag a flashlight from the kitchen drawer—bigger than theirs, one of those heavy-duty ones—and flick it on. “Alright, lead the way. Let’s see if we can save your night.”
They nod, grateful, and you step out into the storm with them. The rain hits like needles, cold and relentless, soaking through your jeans in seconds. Miyeon’s ahead, power-walking around the lake, while Sana sticks closer, her flashlight beam jittering across the muddy path. You’re all hunched against the wind, shouting over the roar of the downpour—Miyeon bitching about how her parents need to upgrade their shit, Sana muttering about hating storms. It’s a slog, wet and miserable, but you can’t help feeling a little badass, trekking out here to play hero. The house looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the storm, and the second you step inside, the vibe hits you—cold, damp, and way too quiet without the hum of electronics. Miyeon flicks her flashlight around, leading the way through the living room—furniture shadowy lumps in the gloom—down a narrow hall to a back door. “Generator’s out here,” she says, shoving it open. The wind blasts in, spraying rain across your face, and you grimace as you follow them into a little shed attached to the house.
The generator sits there like a grumpy old beast, silent and useless. Sana holds her flashlight steady, the beam jittering a little from her shaky hands, while Miyeon aims hers at the control panel. “It just… stopped,” she says, kicking the base lightly. “No warning, no nothing.” You crouch down, popping the side panel open with a grunt, and peer inside. The smell of wet metal and fuel hits you, and you sweep your flashlight over the guts—wires, gauges, a fuel tank that’s still half-full. You’re no expert, but you’ve fucked around with enough random shit to spot trouble. And there it is: a busted fuel line, cracked clean through, leaking diesel into the housing. Probably shook loose from the storm’s vibration or just shitty luck. Either way, it’s toast—no quick fix tonight, not without a replacement part and better light to work in.
“Bad news,” you say, straightening up and wiping your wet hands on your jeans. “Fuel line’s fucked. It’s leaking everywhere, and I can’t patch it with what’s here. You’re outta power ‘til we get a new one.”
Miyeon’s face drops, and she lets out a loud, “Are you kidding me?!” She paces a little, flashlight beam swinging wildly. “This is some horror movie bullshit. What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
Sana’s quieter, but you can tell she’s freaked too—her arms are wrapped tight around herself, and her voice comes out small. “It’s so cold already. And dark. I don’t like this. I swear I keep hearing noises.”
You glance around the shed, the rain drumming on the tin roof like it’s trying to break in. The house beyond it looks like a black hole, swallowing every bit of light. “Yeah, no kidding,” you say, scratching your jaw. “Look, I’m not gonna leave you guys stranded out here. My place has power, heat, and light. Unfortunately there is only one room with a mattress because, well, I wasn't expecting guests. But you can crash there tonight if you don't mind sharing a bed. No point in freezing your asses off in this.”
They both freeze, turning to look at each other. Sana’s the first to speak, hesitant. “Are you sure? We don’t wanna, like, invade your space or anything.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” you say, waving it off. “I’ve got a nice couch. Beats sitting here waiting for the boogeyman to show up, right?”
Miyeon snorts, but there’s relief in it. “Okay, yeah, that sounds way better than this shitshow. Give us a sec to grab some stuff.” They dart back inside, flashlights bobbing, and you wait by the door, leaning against the frame, listening to the storm rage. You hear them rummaging around—drawers slamming, muffled chatter—before they reappear, each with a small duffel bag slung over their shoulder. Miyeon’s got a hoodie pulled tight over her head, and Sana’s clutching a blanket like it’s a lifeline, her wet hair still dripping.
“Ready,” Miyeon says, zipping her bag. “Let’s get the fuck outta here before something else breaks.”
The trek back is brutal—rain in your face, wind shoving you sideways, the girls huddled close like you’re some kinda human shield. By the time you stumble through your front door, you’re all drenched again, leaving a trail of puddles across the hardwood. You kick off your boots, shaking water out of your hair, and point down the hall. “Bathroom’s that way. Go change or whatever—I’ll grab some towels.”
“Thanks, dude,” Miyeon says, already peeling off her soaked hoodie right there in the living room, revealing a damp tee underneath. Sana scurries off, blanket dragging, and you head to the linen closet, snagging a couple of big fluffy towels. When you come back, Miyeon’s in dry sweatpants and a loose tank top, toweling her hair, while Sana emerges in an oversized hoodie and leggings, looking less like a drowned rat now.
“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Miyeon says, flopping onto your couch like she owns it. Sana nods, settling next to her, tucking her legs under. “Seriously, thank you. I was about to lose it over there.”
“No worries,” you say, tossing them the towels. “You guys warm enough? I can put more wood in the fireplace if you want.”
“It’s good,” Sana says, pulling the blanket over her lap. “This is already a million times better.”
You nod, feeling weirdly proud of your little rescue mission, and head to the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea or something. You guys just chill.” The kettle’s already half-full from earlier, so you flick it on, rummaging for some random herbal shit you bought ages ago—chamomile, maybe? Close enough. While it heats, you lean against the counter, listening to them talk on the couch. Miyeon’s voice carries, loud and animated—“I swear, if my parents don’t fix that generator, I’m never coming back”—while Sana’s softer, giggling at her rant.
When the kettle whistles, you pour three mugs, balancing them as you shuffle back. “Here,” you say, handing them over. Miyeon takes hers with a grin, Sana with a quiet “thanks,” and you plop into the armchair across from them, cradling your own. The steam curls up, warm against your face, and for a minute, it’s just the sound of rain on the roof and the three of you sipping.
Miyeon stretches out, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “So, what’s your deal, camera guy? Are you planning to buy this house or something?”
You laugh. “Nah, just a rental for the week. Needed a break from my boring-ass data job. From the city too. Figured I’d mess around with my camera, get some shots of the lake and stay close to nature.”
“Well, you’re stuck with us now,” she says, smirking. “Hope you don’t mind the company.”
Sana glances at you, a little smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you’re kinda our hero tonight.”
You shrug, playing it off, but your chest puffs up a bit anyway. “Hey, beats being alone in this storm. You guys can crash as long as you need.” They nod, settling deeper into the couch, and the vibe shifts—warm, easy, like you’ve known them longer than a day. The rain keeps pounding, but in here, it’s just you, them, and the crackling of the fireplace making everything feel alright.
“So, what’s your story?” you ask, blowing on your tea to cool it. “You guys come up here a lot, huh?”
Miyeon smirks, setting her mug on the coffee table with a little clink. “Yeah, like I said, it’s my parents’ place. Been dragging people up here since I was a kid. Used to be all family trips, but now it’s more for me and my crew to fuck around—swim, drink, whatever. This time it was supposed to be a big thing, but, well, landslide screwed that.”
“That sucks,” you say, leaning back. “You two stuck it out, though. Pretty badass.”
Sana giggles, peeking over her mug. “Barely. We were freaking out before you showed up. I’m not good with storms—or, like, anything going wrong.”
“She’s a spoiled city girl,” Miyeon teases, nudging Sana with her foot. “Needs her Wi-Fi and hot showers or she starts crying.”
“Shut up,” Sana fires back, but she’s laughing, swatting Miyeon’s leg. “You’re the one who screamed when the power went out.”
Miyeon shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah, ‘cause it was creepy as fuck. Point is, we’re here now, thanks to Mr. Hero over there.” She jerks her chin at you, grinning.
You snort. “Just doing my part. So, what’s the deal with you two? You’ve known each other forever or what?” You figure they’re tight—besties or something, the way they bounce off each other.
They exchange a look, quick but loaded, and Miyeon’s grin turns a little sly. “Not forever,” she says, stretching her arms over her head, tank top riding up a bit. “We’ve been together, what, two years now?”
“Two and a half,” Sana corrects, softer, her eyes flicking to Miyeon like she’s double-checking.
“Together?” you echo, tilting your head. “Like… roommates?”
Miyeon laughs, loud and sharp, while Sana hides a smile behind her mug. “Nah, dude,” Miyeon says, sitting up a little. “Like, together together. Girlfriends. Dating. You know?”
“Oh,” you say, blinking, then catch yourself quick. “Oh, shit, that’s cool. I just assumed—uh, never mind. Awesome.”
Sana’s cheeks go pink, but she’s giggling at your stumble. “It’s fine. People assume we’re just friends all the time. We’re used to it.”
“Yeah, we don’t exactly scream ‘couple,’” Miyeon adds, smirking. “I’m too loud, she’s too sweet. Throws people off.”
You laugh, easing up. “Nah, I get it now. You balance each other out. That’s dope.” You mean it—they’ve got this vibe, like they click without even trying. Miyeon’s all fire and Sana’s the calm, but together it works.
“What about you?” Sana asks, shifting the spotlight. “You got anyone back home?”
“Me? Nah,” you say, shaking your head. “Solo mission right now. Work’s too boring to drag someone else into it, and I spend most of my free time with my camera anyway. Not exactly boyfriend material.”
“Bullshit,” Miyeon says, pointing at you with her mug. “You’re chill, you’ve got a cool hobby, and you’re not a total asshole. You’d do fine.”
“High praise,” you deadpan, grinning. “I’ll put that on my dating profile: ‘Not a total asshole, says random lake girl.’”
They both crack up, and the room feels lighter, like the storm’s just background noise now. You keep chatting—little stuff at first. You tell them about your data gig, how it’s mind-numbing but pays the bills, and how you’ve been shooting photos since you were a teenager, chasing sunsets and storms like this one. Miyeon spills about her graphic design side hustle, how she’s always doodling on her iPad, while Sana admits she’s a barista at some trendy coffee shop, secretly loving the chaos of the morning rush.
“Hold up,” you say, setting your empty mug down. “You’re telling me you’re out here pulling espresso shots all day, and you’re still this chill? Respect.”
Sana shrugs, blushing a little. “It’s not that hard. I just smile and people tip me.”
“She’s lying,” Miyeon cuts in. “She’s a pro. Makes latte art and everything. I can barely pour cereal without fucking it up.”
“Stop it,” Sana mumbles, shoving her playfully, and you can’t help but laugh at how easy they are together. It’s cute—real, not forced.
The convo drifts, and you’re all a little looser, the tea warming you up from the inside. Miyeon yawns, stretching so hard her tank top rides up again, showing a sliver of stomach. “Man, this storm’s not letting up. What’s the plan tomorrow if it’s still like this?”
You glance out the window—still a wall of rain and dark. “Dunno. If it clears, I was gonna hike around, take some shots. If not, I’ve got a deck of cards and some beer. We could kill time.”
“Beer?” Miyeon perks up, eyes glinting. “Why didn’t you say that earlier? Let’s do drinks tomorrow night, storm or not. We’ll make it a thing.”
“Deal,” you say, nodding. “I’ve got some whiskey too, if we’re feeling fancy. You guys in?”
Sana hesitates, then smiles. “Yeah, okay. Sounds fun.”
“Sweet,” Miyeon says, clapping her hands once, like it’s settled. “Something to look forward to after this shitty day.”
You all sit there a minute longer, the mugs empty now, the fire crackling mixing with the rain. Sana yawns next, covering her mouth with the blanket edge. “I’m so tired,” she mumbles. “This whole thing wiped me out.”
“Yeah, same,” Miyeon agrees, rubbing her eyes. “We should crash. You really good with us stealing your bedroom?”
“Take it,” you say, standing up to stretch. “Bed’s made, pillows and shit are in the closet if you need extra. I’ll grab the couch.”
“Are you sure we're not—” Sana starts, but you wave her off.
“Nah, it’s fine. Couch is comfy enough. You guys get the room, no biggie.” You grab the mugs, stacking them to carry to the sink, and they shuffle off the couch, gathering their bags.
“Thanks again, dude,” Miyeon says, dragging her duffel over her shoulder. “You’re, like, our storm savior.”
“Anytime,” you say, smirking. “Night, you two.”
“Night,” Sana echoes, giving you a little wave as they head down the hall. You hear the spare room door click shut, some muffled giggles and whispers filtering through before it quiets down. You rinse the mugs in the kitchen, flick off the lights, and flop onto the couch, dragging a throw blanket over yourself. The rain’s still going hard outside, but inside it’s warm and peaceful. Tomorrow’s got drinks on deck, and with Miyeon and Sana around, it’s shaping up to be a hell of a night. You close your eyes, the storm lulling you off, and crash out with a dumb little smile tugging at your lips.
—
You blink awake on the couch, the blanket tangled around your legs, sunlight sneaking through the blinds in thin, golden stripes. The house is quiet—no rain, no wind, just the soft hum of the heater ticking down, the fireplace already out. You sit up, rubbing your face, and that’s when you smell it: coffee, faint but fresh, and something sweet lingering in the air. Stumbling to your feet, you shuffle to the kitchen and spot a little spread on the counter—toast stacked on a plate, a jar of jam open next to it, and a couple strips of bacon still warm under a paper towel. There’s a note scribbled in messy handwriting: “Thanks for last night! Enjoy – M & S.” You smirk, figuring it’s the girls’ doing. They’re not around, though—place feels empty without their chatter.
You scarf down the breakfast—crisp toast slathered with strawberry jam, bacon salty and perfect—then hit the shower, letting the hot water blast away the last of the sleep haze. By the time you’re dressed—jeans, a hoodie, sneakers—it’s pushing 9 a.m. You grab your camera bag, sling it over your shoulder, and step outside. Holy shit, it’s a different world. After yesterday’s apocalyptic downpour, the sun’s out, blazing in a sky so blue it looks photoshopped. The lake sparkles, all glassy and calm, and the air’s crisp but not freezing, a perfect late-morning vibe. You’re still marveling at it when a loud whoop cuts through the silence, followed by a splash.
Your head snaps toward the pier, and there’s Miyeon, mid-air, cannonballing into the water with a scream that’s half-laugh, half-battle cry. She’s in a red swimsuit, bright against the lake, and as she surfaces, shaking wet hair out of her face, you spot Sana on the pier, waving at you in a pink bikini that hugs her curves just right. They’re both stupidly gorgeous, and for a second, you’re just standing there, camera dangling, brain short-circuiting. Miyeon’s got a little more thickness to her—medium, perky breasts filling out that swimsuit top, a round ass that’s damn near hypnotizing as she climbs back onto the pier. Sana’s slimmer, all sleek lines and subtle curves, the bikini showing off her tiny waist and long legs. You snap out of it when they call you over, Miyeon’s voice carrying: “Yo, camera guy! Get your ass down here!”
You jog over, grinning as you hit the pier’s edge. “Morning, ladies,” you say, shielding your eyes from the sun. “You two look way too chipper after last night.”
“Slept like babies,” Miyeon says, wringing water out of her hair, droplets splattering the wood. “Your place is cozy as hell. How’d you hold up on that couch?”
“Good enough,” you say, shrugging. “Woke up to breakfast, though—that was clutch. Thanks for that.”
Sana beams, sitting cross-legged on the pier, her pink bikini practically glowing in the sunlight. “I made it. Miyeon can’t cook for shit, so I took over.”
“Facts,” Miyeon says, not even arguing. “She’s a wizard in the kitchen. That bacon? Her doing. I’d burn the house down trying.”
“Shit, well, it was awesome,” you say, nodding at Sana. “Seriously, thank you. Didn’t expect the VIP treatment.”
Sana blushes a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No biggie. Least we could do.”
Miyeon flops onto her back, stretching out like a cat in the sun. “Weather’s fuckin’ perfect today. Checked the forecast—sunny all day, but there’s another cold front rolling in tomorrow. Gotta soak this up while we can.” She props up on her elbows, eyeing you. “Come swim with us, dude. Water’s not even that cold.”
“Yeah, join us!” Sana chimes in, standing up and tugging at your arm. They’re both at it now, pulling you toward the edge, their wet hands slippery on your hoodie. Miyeon’s got that mischievous grin, and Sana’s giggling like she’s in on the plot.
You laugh, but it’s nervous, your feet planted. “Nah, I’ve got plans—gonna hike around, shoot some nature stuff. You know, trees, birds, all that shit.”
Miyeon sits up, crossing her arms under her chest, which—fuck, that swimsuit’s doing work. “Bro, we’re nature. Take pics of us instead. Way prettier than some random-ass tree.”
You smirk, caught off guard but not mad about it. “Can’t argue that. Alright, fine—photo shoot it is.”
Sana claps, bouncing a little. “Yes! These swimsuits are new, too. Gotta show ‘em off. Right, Miyeon?”
“Hell yeah,” Miyeon says, hopping to her feet. “Red’s my color, and pink’s hers. Perfect combo.”
You sling your camera out, adjusting the settings quick—bright sun, sharp focus. They start posing, and it’s like they were born for this. Miyeon’s all bold energy, leaning forward with a flirty smirk, then turning to show off that ass, one hand on her hip. Sana’s softer, tilting her head, letting her hair spill over her shoulder, giving you these quiet, sultry looks that hit harder than they should. Then they get together—arms around each other, laughing, pressing close like the girlfriends they are. Miyeon pulls Sana in for a playful kiss on the cheek, and Sana squeals, shoving her off, but they’re both cracking up. You’re snapping away, the shutter clicking like crazy, and every shot’s a banger—sunlight glinting off their skin, the lake shimmering behind them.
“Check these out,” you say, flipping the camera around. They crowd in, still dripping, Miyeon’s arm brushing yours as they ooh and ahh over the screen. “Holy shit, we look hot,” Miyeon says, zooming in on one where she’s tossing her hair back mid-laugh. Sana nods, pointing at another. “That one’s my favorite. The light’s perfect.”
“Glad you like ‘em,” you say, pocketing the camera. “I’ll send ‘em later with yesterday's photos.”
“Sweet,” Miyeon says, then glances at the lake. “You sure you won’t swim? Last chance before it’s all cold and shitty again.”
“Nah, I’m good,” you say, stepping back. “Gonna roam around, get some shots of the woods. Plus, I’ll swing by the city later—grab that fuel line part for your generator and fix it up.”
Sana’s eyes widen. “Wait, for real? You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s nothing,” you say, waving it off. “Hardware store’s not far, and I’ve got the tools. Beats you guys sitting in the dark again.”
Miyeon grins, big and genuine. “Dude, you’re too nice. Like, suspiciously nice. What’s your angle?”
You laugh. “No angle. Just don’t wanna see you stuck. Plus, I’m bored out here—gives me something to do.”
“Well, we owe you big time,” Sana says, hugging herself as a breeze kicks up. “Oh—can we charge our phones at your place? They’re basically dead, and we’ve got no juice over there.”
“Yeah, no problem,” you say, nodding toward your house. “Plenty of outlets. Leave ‘em as long as you need.”
“Sweet, thanks,” Miyeon says, already heading back to the pier’s edge. “We’ll catch you later then—drinks tonight, right?”
“Bet,” you say, giving them a mock salute. “Enjoy the sun, ladies.”
They wave as you head off, Miyeon shouting, “Don’t get lost in the woods, camera guy!” before cannonballing back into the water with another splash. You shake your head, smirking, and start down the path toward the trees, camera in hand. The day’s wide open, the girls are vibing, and you’ve got a solid plan—photos now, hero shit later, drinks to cap it off.
Not a bad way to spend a Saturday.
—
The sun’s dipping low now, painting the sky in lazy streaks of orange and pink as you roll back up to the lake house in your SUV. The gravel crunches under the tires, and you kill the engine, grabbing the plastic bag from the passenger seat—inside’s the new fuel line you snagged from the hardware store in town, plus a couple bags of chips, some salsa, and a pack of those sour gummy worms Miyeon seemed like she’d vibe with. You step out, the air cooler now that the afternoon’s winding down, and spot the girls on your porch, sprawled out like they’ve claimed the place.
Miyeon’s lounging in one of the wooden chairs, legs kicked up on the railing, scrolling her phone with one hand while the other toys with a strand of her damp hair—she’s still in that red swimsuit, a towel draped over her lap. Sana’s cross-legged on the floor next to her, phone plugged into an extension cord snaking through the open window, her pink bikini swapped for a loose tee and shorts. They look up as you approach, Miyeon tossing you a lazy wave while Sana gives a little smile, like they’ve been waiting for you to roll in.
“Yo, I’m back,” you say, holding up the bag. “Got the fuel line. And some snacks for later—figured we’d need something to munch on with the drinks.”
Miyeon drops her feet from the railing, sitting up with a grin. “You’re a fucking legend, dude. I’ll Venmo you later for the part—how much was it?”
“Like, twenty bucks,” you say, shrugging. “No rush.”
Sana tilts her head, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You sure you don’t need help with the generator? I’m useless with that stuff, but I can, like, hold a flashlight or something.”
“Nah, I got it,” you say, slinging your camera bag off your shoulder and setting it by the door. “Watched a couple YouTube vids earlier—think I can handle it solo. You guys just chill here.”
Miyeon laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, good call. We’d probably just fuck it up worse. I don’t even know what a fuel line is.”
“Same,” Sana adds, giggling. “You’re on your own, hero.”
“Cool,” you say, grabbing the bag with the part and heading off. “I’ll trek over there and sort it out. Be back in a bit.”
You make the short walk around the lake, the last of the sunlight glinting off the water, your boots sinking slightly into the still-damp ground. Their house looks less ominous now, just a quiet two-story sitting there in the evening glow. You head to the shed out back, popping it open with a creak, and there’s the generator—same sad, silent hunk of metal from last night. You drop to your knees, fishing the new fuel line out of the bag, and get to work.
The YouTube tutorials you skimmed earlier play back in your head—some dude with a thick accent walking through the steps like it’s no big deal. First, you kill the fuel switch, making sure no gas is leaking out, then unhook the old line—cracked and crusty, just like you thought. A little diesel dribbles onto your hands, stinking like hell, but you wipe it on your jeans and keep going. The new line’s a perfect fit, sliding into place with a satisfying click. You tighten the clamps with a screwdriver from their toolbox, double-checking everything’s snug. Then it’s just a matter of priming the fuel pump—couple quick pumps like the guy said—and flipping the switch. The generator sputters once, twice, then roars to life, a steady hum kicking in. You stand back, grinning like an idiot. Fixed. Lights flicker on in the house behind you, and you give yourself a mental high-five—DIY king shit.
You trudge back to your place, wiping your greasy hands on a rag you snagged from their shed. The girls spot you coming and perk up—Miyeon’s on her feet, Miyeon swapped her swimsuit for shorts and a tank top. Sana’s leaning forward, both of them looking hopeful. “Well?” Miyeon calls out, arms crossed.
“Done,” you say, tossing the rag onto the porch steps. “Generator’s purring like a kitten. You’ve got power again.”
Sana lets out this big, relieved sigh, clutching her phone to her chest. “Oh my God, thank you. I was legit stressed about that.”
Miyeon whoops, bounding over and throwing her arms around you in a quick, tight hug. “Dude, you’re the best! I owe you more than twenty bucks for this.”
You laugh, patting her back before she pulls away. “Nah, just keep the drinks flowing tonight, and we’re square.”
“Deal,” Sana says, standing up now, her whole vibe brighter. “Speaking of, let’s crack those beers. I’m way happier now that we’re not, like, pioneer women anymore.”
“Bet,” you say, heading inside to drop the snacks on the kitchen counter. The girls follow, Miyeon raiding your fridge for the beers while Sana digs into the chip bag already. You grab a deck of cards from a drawer, flipping it in your hand. “You guys play cards?”
Miyeon pops a beer open, foam hissing as she takes a sip. “I do. Poker, blackjack, whatever. I’m decent.”
Sana shrugs, munching a chip. “I’ve never played. Like, ever. I don’t even know the rules.”
“No shit?” you say, pulling out a chair at the table and motioning them over. “Alright, I’ll teach you. Easy stuff—let’s start with blackjack. You’ll pick it up quick.”
They settle in, Miyeon plopping down across from you with her beer, Sana sliding into the seat next to her, still clutching the chip bag like it’s a security blanket. You shuffle the deck, the cards snapping under your fingers, and deal out the first hand—two cards each. “Goal’s simple,” you say, tossing yourself a jack and a five. “Get as close to twenty-one as you can without going over. Face cards are ten, aces are one or eleven, whatever you need. You want another card, you say ‘hit.’ You’re good, you ‘stay.’ Bust, you lose.”
Sana stares at her cards—a seven and a three—furrowing her brow like it’s a math test. “Okay… hit?”
You flick her a nine, and she gasps. “Shit, that’s nineteen! I stay, right?”
“Yeah, smart call,” you say, grinning. “Miyeon?”
She’s got a queen and a four, smirking like she’s already won. “Hit.” You deal her a six—twenty. “Stay,” she says, leaning back with a cocky tilt to her head.
You flip your second card—a nine. “Dealer’s got nineteen,” you say, checking the deck. “Sana, you’re good. Miyeon wins, though—twenty’s closer.”
“Fuck yeah,” Miyeon says, fist-pumping. “Told you I’m good.”
Sana pouts, but she’s laughing. “Beginner’s luck doesn’t count, right?”
“Nope,” you say, gathering the cards. “Let’s go again. You’ll get the hang of it.”
The hours slip by like nothing, the table a mess of empty beer cans, crumpled chip bags, and a half-eaten pile of gummy worms stuck to the salsa lid. The cards are long forgotten, scattered across the table from your last sloppy round of blackjack—Sana kept busting and blaming the “stupid rules,” while Miyeon was raking in wins like she’d been hustling casinos her whole life. The drinks keep flowing, whiskey now in the mix, poured into mismatched mugs because you ran out of clean glasses. The room’s warm, a little hazy, the heater still chugging along as the night deepens outside, but there are no more stars in the sky, and you already know what's coming.
You’re slouched in your chair, one leg kicked up on the empty seat next to you, feeling the buzz settle into your bones. Across the table, Sana’s climbed into Miyeon’s lap at some point—nobody batted an eye, least of all you. They’re comfy like that, Sana’s head tucked against Miyeon’s shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Miyeon’s arm while Miyeon’s got one hand draped around Sana’s waist, the other nursing her whiskey mug. They’re drunk, giggling messes, and you’re not far behind, the room spinning just enough to make everything funnier than it should be.
“Alright, camera guy,” Miyeon says, her voice a little slurred but still sharp, cutting through the haze. “Spill it. When’s the last time you had a girlfriend? You’re too chill to be single forever.”
You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck, the whiskey loosening your tongue. “Uh, shit, like two years ago? She was cool, but it didn’t stick. Been flying solo since then—works better that way, you know? Just me and my camera, no drama.”
Sana tilts her head, her lips curling into a teasing little smile. “Two years? Damn, you’re basically a monk.”
“Monk with a lens,” Miyeon adds, smirking. “Bet you’ve got girls tripping over you and you just don’t notice.”
“Nah,” you say, waving it off, though the compliment lands nice. “I’m good on my own. Relationships are… a lot.”
They exchange a look then—quick, sneaky, like they’re in on some secret. Sana whispers something in Miyeon’s ear, her breath tickling Miyeon’s neck, and Miyeon snickers, her eyes flicking to you. They both start giggling, sloppy and loud, and you lean forward, squinting. “What? What’s so funny?”
Miyeon shakes her head, still laughing. “Nothing, nothing. Just—we’ve got this friend, Shuhua. She’s super chill, loves hiking, nature vibes, all that shit you’re into. You’d hit it off.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sana pipes up, sitting up a little straighter on Miyeon’s lap, her cheeks flushed from the booze. “And Tzuyu too! She’s, like, gorgeous and artsy. Total your type.”
Miyeon nods like it’s settled. “Yeah, Tzuyu’s got that quiet, mysterious thing going. You’d be obsessed.”
You snort, taking a sip of your whiskey, the burn sliding down easy. “What, you two playing matchmaker now? I said I’m good.”
Miyeon’s grin turns mischievous, her eyes glinting under the dim kitchen light. “Okay, fine, but let’s be real for a sec. Between me and Sana—” she tightens her grip on Sana’s waist, making her squirm and giggle—“who’d you pick? Like, if you had to. Be honest.”
Sana’s head snaps up, her face going red. “Miyeon! Don’t ask that, oh my God!” She swats at Miyeon’s hand, but she’s laughing too, hiding her face in Miyeon’s shoulder for a sec before peeking out at you, all shy and curious.
You freeze, the mug halfway to your lips, caught off guard. “Uh… what?” Your voice comes out higher than you mean it to, and you clear your throat, trying to play it cool. “I don’t—I mean, I can’t just… pick. I don’t know.”
Miyeon’s eyebrows shoot up, and she leans forward, dragging Sana with her. “Oh, come on! You’re dodging. You totally know, you’re just too chicken to say it.”
“Am not,” you shoot back, but your face is heating up, and the whiskey’s not helping. You glance between them—Miyeon’s got that bold, flirty edge, all confidence and heat, her lips quirked like she’s daring you to say something stupid. Sana’s softer, her blush spreading, but there’s this spark in her eyes now, playful and warm, like she’s testing you too. They’re both ridiculous, and it’s doing shit to your head.
“So what I’m hearing,” Miyeon says, dragging the words out, “is you’d take both of us. Greedy bastard.”
“What—no!” you sputter, nearly choking on your drink. “That’s not what I said! You’re twisting it!”
Sana bursts out laughing, her whole body shaking against Miyeon. “Oh my God, you’re so greedy! Wanting us both, huh?”
“Fuck off, I didn’t say that,” you protest, but you’re laughing too, the absurdity of it hitting you all at once. “You two are wasted. I’m not even dignifying this.”
Miyeon grins wider, leaning closer across the table, her voice dropping low and teasing. “Oh, please. You couldn’t handle us anyway. We’re a lot, you know. High maintenance.”
Sana nods, mock-serious. “So much work. You’d be crying in a week.”
“Yeah, right,” you fire back, the whiskey buzzing through you now, making you bold. “I’d keep up. You’d be the ones begging for a break.”
Miyeon’s eyes widen, and she lets out a loud, “Ooooh!” Sana gasps, covering her mouth, but she’s smiling like crazy behind her hand. “He’s got some fight in him,” Miyeon says, leaning back and fanning herself dramatically. “Sana, you hear that? He thinks he’s tough enough for us.”
“I’m just saying,” you mutter, sinking into your chair, “you’re the ones who’d tap out first.”
Sana giggles, sliding off Miyeon’s lap to grab another beer from the fridge, her shorts riding up as she bends over. She spins back around, popping the cap with a lighter she snagged off the table. “You’re funny,” she says, pointing at you. “And shy as hell right now. Look at you.”
“Shut up,” you say, but you’re grinning, your face burning under their stares. “You’re both too drunk. This convo’s going off the rails—I’m scared of where it’s headed.”
Miyeon laughs, loud and unfiltered, tipping her mug back for the last of her whiskey. “Scared? Good. You should be. We’re trouble, camera guy. Double trouble.”
“Triple, with the drinks,” Sana adds, sliding back onto Miyeon’s lap, beer in hand. She takes a sip, then offers it to Miyeon, who leans in close, their lips brushing for a second as she drinks. It’s casual, natural for them, but it hits you like a punch—subtle, hot, and gone too fast to process.
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “Yeah, I’m calling it. You two are a menace. I’m having way too much fun, though.”
“Same,” Sana says, her voice softer now, her head resting on Miyeon’s shoulder again. “You’re cool, you know that?”
“Very cool,” Miyeon agrees, her hand sliding up Sana’s back, casual but possessive. “We’ll let you off the hook for now. But don’t think we’re done messing with you.”
You laugh, raising your mug in a mock toast. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Night’s still young, right?”
They clink their drinks against yours, the three of you grinning like idiots, the flirtation simmering under the surface—light, playful, but with an edge that keeps you on your toes. You take a sip of your whiskey, the burn familiar now, and figure it’s your turn to flip the script. “Alright,” you say, setting the mug down with a little thud to get their attention. “You’ve been grilling me about my love life—or lack of it. What about you two? How’d you even end up together?”
Miyeon’s head tilts back as she laughs, her black hair spilling over her shoulders. “Oh, dude, it’s a story. We met at some shitty college party—like, the kind with warm beer and a playlist that’s just Top 40 on repeat. I was trashed, trying to shotgun a can, and Sana was there, all cute and quiet, holding a red cup she wasn’t even drinking from.”
Sana nods, her cheeks already pink from the booze. “She spilled beer all over me trying to show off. I was pissed, but then she started apologizing like a maniac, and… I don’t know, she was funny about it. We just clicked.”
“Clicked, huh?” you say, smirking. “That’s cute. So, what’s the secret? Two and a half years is solid—most people can’t keep a houseplant alive that long.”
Miyeon shrugs, her hand sliding idly up Sana’s back, fingers tracing the hem of her tee. “Dunno. We just vibe. She keeps me from doing dumb shit—like, most of the time—and I make sure she doesn’t stay in her shell forever. Balance, you know?”
“Yeah,” Sana adds, leaning into Miyeon’s touch, her voice soft. “She’s loud and I’m not. Works out.”
You nod, letting the moment settle, then push a little further, keeping it chill. “Ever have any big fights? Like, the kind where you’re slamming doors or sleeping on the couch?”
Sana giggles, shaking her head. “Not really. We argue sometimes—stupid stuff, like who forgot to buy milk—but Miyeon’s too lazy to storm out, and I hate sleeping alone.”
“Facts,” Miyeon says, grinning. “I’d rather just bitch for five minutes and then make out. Way easier.”
You laugh, the image of them bickering-then-kissing too good to not picture. “Smart move. Alright, let’s level up—any exes still lurking around? Old flames trying to slide back in?”
Miyeon’s eyes narrow playfully, like she’s onto your game, but she answers anyway. “Couple of mine tried. Dudes mostly—had a few boyfriends before Sana. They’d hit me up like, ‘Oh, you’re with a girl now? That’s hot.’ Blocked them so fast. Sana’s exes are too scared of me to try anything.”
Sana snorts, nudging Miyeon’s shoulder. “You’re not that scary. They’re just… I don’t know, they’re all girls anyway. Nobody’s dumb enough to mess with us now.”
“Fair,” you say, leaning forward, resting your elbows on the table. The whiskey’s got your tongue loose, and the vibe’s right, so you nudge the questions up a notch—still smooth, but with a little heat. “So, Miyeon, you’ve dated guys before, right? Sana—you ever been with one? Like, ever?”
They glance at each other quick, a flicker of something passing between them—Sana’s blush deepens, and Miyeon’s grin turns sly. “Me? Yeah,” Miyeon says, casual as hell. “I’m bi—guys, girls, whatever. If they’re hot and fun, I’m down. Dated a couple dudes before I figured out I liked girls just as much. No big deal.”
Sana shifts on Miyeon’s lap, her fingers tightening around her beer bottle. “I… no. Never been with a guy. Always just girls for me.” Her voice is quieter, a little shy, but she doesn’t look away.
Miyeon tilts her head, resting her chin on Sana’s shoulder, her eyes locked on you now. “She’s curious, though,” she says, dropping it like a bomb, her tone teasing but deliberate. “Always has been. Right, babe?”
Sana’s face flares red, and she swats at Miyeon’s arm, flustered. “Miyeon! Shut up, oh my God!” She buries her face in her hands for a sec, then peeks out, still giggling despite herself. “I mean… yeah, okay, I’ve thought about it. Like, wondered what it’d be like. But that’s it. Closest I’ve gotten is—” She stops, biting her lip, and Miyeon finishes for her.
“The strap,” Miyeon says, smirking like she’s proud of it. “I’ve got this one that’s, uh, pretty realistic. She loves it, but it’s still not the real deal, you know?”
Sana groans, dropping her forehead onto Miyeon’s shoulder. “You’re the worst. Why do you say shit like that?”
You laugh, holding up your hands. “Hey, no judgment here. We’re all adults—shit gets spicy sometimes. Sounds like you’ve got it figured out anyway.”
Miyeon’s still watching you, her smirk softening into something sharper, more curious. Sana lifts her head, her embarrassment fading into a playful little pout as she takes a swig of her beer. “Okay, but why’re you asking?” she says, her tone turning provocative, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “You digging for details, huh? What’s your deal?”
You freeze for a sec, caught off guard, the whiskey making your brain a little slow to catch up. “What? Nah, I’m just—curious, I guess. Making conversation. That’s all.”
Miyeon’s not buying it, her head tilting like she’s sizing you up. “Bullshit. You’re interested. I can see it. All these questions—you’re fishing for something, aren’t you?”
“Fishing?” you say, leaning back, trying to play it cool but feeling the heat creeping up your neck. “Come on, I’m just chilling. Anyone stuck out here with you two would be asking the same shit. You’re the only entertainment I’ve got.”
Sana giggles, her pout turning into a grin as she leans forward, elbows on the table now, her chin in her hands. “Oh, so we’re entertainment? That’s your excuse?”
“Yeah, exactly,” you say, grinning back, the tension easing but still simmering under the surface. “Two hot girls, drunk and spilling secrets? Who wouldn’t be into that?”
Miyeon laughs, loud and bright, tipping her head back. “Fair. You’ve got a point. We are hot.” She nudges Sana, who’s still blushing but clearly loving the vibe. “He’s not wrong, babe.”
“Still,” Sana says, her voice softer but with a teasing edge, “you’re digging pretty deep. What’s next, you gonna ask our favorite positions or something?”
You choke on your whiskey, coughing into your fist as Miyeon cackles. “Jesus, no,” you manage, wiping your mouth. “I’m not that drunk. Yet.”
“Yet,” Miyeon echoes, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Give it an hour. We’ll get you there.”
The room’s buzzing now, the flirtation weaving through the air like a quiet current—nothing overt, but it’s there, subtle and growing. You take another sip, letting it burn, and lean back in your chair, meeting Miyeon’s gaze for a second longer than you should. Sana’s watching too, her smile small but knowing, like she’s in on the game.
The conversation’s still humming along, the whiskey keeping the edges soft and the laughter loud. You’re mid-sentence, riffing on some dumb story about a camping trip gone wrong years ago, when a faint patter hits the deck outside. At first, you think it’s just the wind kicking up, but then it gets louder, steadier—rain, drumming hard against the wood. The temperature drops fast, a chill sneaking through the open window, cutting through the cozy haze of the kitchen. Miyeon shivers, rubbing her bare arms, and Sana pulls her tee tighter around herself, her beer bottle clinking against the table as she sets it down.
“Shit, there it goes again,” you say, standing up to slide the window shut. The cold’s biting now, the kind that makes your breath fog indoors if you’re not careful. “The couch is calling us.”
They nod, grabbing their drinks and stumbling after you, a little wobbly from the booze. You flick on the living room lamp, its warm glow spilling over the plush couch and the throw blankets piled on the armrest. The fireplace is out, but the heater’s still doing its thing, and the room feels like a bubble against the storm outside. You flop into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked under you, the whiskey mug warm in your hands. Miyeon and Sana collapse together on the other end, a tangle of limbs and giggles—Sana’s half-draped over Miyeon, her head lolling against Miyeon’s chest as Miyeon wraps an arm around her.
“Fuck, your place is so warm,” Miyeon sighs, kicking off her flip-flops and pulling her feet up onto the cushions. “Ours would be an icebox right now with that busted generator.”
“Perks of not slacking on maintenance,” you say, smirking as you take a sip. “You’re welcome to crash anytime it shits the bed.”
Sana hums, her eyes half-closed, nestled into Miyeon like she’s ready to doze off. “Good to know. You’re spoiling us.”
The rain’s pounding now, a steady roar against the roof, and for a while, you all just sit there, letting the sound fill the silence. It’s not awkward—more like a breather, the kind where everyone’s too buzzed and content to force more chatter. But then you catch it: the way they’re looking at you. Miyeon’s got this lazy, lidded gaze, her lips parted just enough to show a hint of teeth, and Sana’s peeking up from Miyeon’s chest, her eyes brighter than they should be for how drunk she is. They’re giggling to themselves, quiet little bursts, like they’re sharing some inside joke you’re not in on yet.
You lean back, resting your head against the couch, and glance out at the deck, rain streaking the glass doors. “Getting late,” you say, casual, testing the vibe. “This storm’s not letting up anytime soon.”
Sana stretches, her tee riding up to flash a sliver of stomach, and sits up a little. “Tonight was so fun, though. Way more than we thought it’d be, stuck out here alone.”
“Yeah,” Miyeon agrees, her hand lingering on Sana’s thigh, fingers tracing absent circles. “Didn’t expect to end up with a generator-fixing, blackjack-teaching hero. You’re full of surprises.”
You laugh, shrugging it off, but the compliment sticks. “Glad I could keep you entertained. We can run it back tomorrow—more drinks, more cards, whatever. Weather’s supposed to clear up.”
“Sweet,” Sana says, her voice soft but perky. Then Miyeon shifts, her eyes locking onto yours, and there’s something different in them now—sharper, bolder.
“Fun doesn’t have to end now, though,” she says, slow and deliberate, like she’s dropping a hint she knows you’ll catch.
You tilt your head, playing dumb but feeling the shift. “What’s that mean?”
She smirks, leaning forward just enough to close some distance, her arm sliding behind Sana on the couch. “What’re you doing later? After we’re done sitting here?”
“Uh, sleeping?” you say, half-laughing, though your pulse kicks up a notch. “That’s the plan, anyway.”
Miyeon’s grin widens, and she glances at Sana, who’s biting her lip like she’s holding back a laugh. “Yeah, well, me and Sana—we’re probably gonna fuck,” Miyeon says, blunt as hell, her tone light but her eyes steady on you. “We were supposed to last night, but, you know, generator drama killed the mood. So now we’re kinda pent up. Horny as shit, honestly.”
You choke on your whiskey, coughing into your sleeve as the words hit you like a freight train. “Jesus, warn a guy,” you mutter, wiping your mouth, your face hot. Sana’s giggling now, hiding half her face in Miyeon’s shoulder, but she’s not denying it.
“What?” Miyeon says, all fake innocence, leaning back and pulling Sana closer. “Just being real. You asked.”
“I literally didn't ask anything,” you say, but you’re laughing, the shock mixing with the buzz and turning into something else—something that’s got your stomach tightening.
Sana whispers something into Miyeon’s ear, her voice too low to catch, and Miyeon’s smirk softens into something… hungrier. She looks back at you. “It’s pouring out there,” she says, nodding toward the glass doors, where the rain’s still hammering down in sheets. “We’d get soaked going back. Mind if we crash here tonight?”
“Yeah, of course,” you say, automatic, trying to keep your cool. “The bed is yours, I'm getting used to the couch.”
Sana’s the one who pipes up now, her voice quiet but cutting through the tension. “Sleeping alone in this cold sucks, though. Don’t you think?”
You blink, caught off guard again, your brain scrambling. “Uh… yeah, I guess?”
Miyeon’s watching you close now, her hand sliding up Sana’s back again, possessive but gentle. “What if…” she starts, pausing just long enough to let it sink in, “you joined us? Like, all three of us. Together.”
Your mouth goes dry, the words landing heavy. “Wait, what—like, serious? Or are you just drunk and fucking with me?”
Miyeon doesn’t flinch. She leans forward instead, setting her mug on the table with a soft clink, then turns to Sana. Without breaking eye contact with you, she cups Sana’s face and kisses her—slow, deep, not some quick peck but a real, sensual thing. Lips parted, tongues meeting, the kind of kiss that’s got heat behind it. Sana melts into it, her hands clutching Miyeon’s tank top, and when they pull apart, breathless, they both turn to you. Sana’s flushed, her eyes glassy, and Miyeon’s got this smug, daring look.
“Does that look like we’re fucking with you?” Miyeon says, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.
Sana’s quieter, her voice a little shaky but steady enough. “You’re cool. And… kinda hot, honestly. We’ve been talking about it all night.”
“Yeah,” Miyeon adds, leaning into it now, her confidence dialed up. “I wanna see you fuck Sana. Like, I’d be there too—watching, helping, whatever. She’s curious, and I think you’d be perfect for her first time with a guy.”
Your head’s spinning, the room suddenly way too small, the air thick with something you can’t shake. Your dick twitches at the thought—Sana’s soft curves under you, Miyeon’s eyes on you, directing it all. It’s a lot, fast, and your heart’s pounding against your ribs. “Fuck,” you breathe, running a hand through your hair. “You’re not kidding.”
“Nope,” Miyeon says, popping the ‘p’ again, her smirk lethal. “So? What do you say?”
Sana’s staring at you now, bottom lip caught between her teeth, nervous but wanting, and Miyeon’s got that predatory edge, like she’s already decided how this is gonna go. The tension’s a live wire, humming between you, and you’re stuck, half-panicked, half-turned on, trying to process what the hell’s happening as the rain keeps drumming outside.
“Fuck it, I’m up for it.”
Miyeon’s grin stretches wide, victorious, and she slides off the couch, her bare feet hitting the hardwood with a soft thud. “Good answer,” she says, her voice low and sultry, like she’s been waiting for this all night. “Come closer, then.” She beckons you with a curl of her finger, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to hesitate.
You don’t. You push off the couch, the whiskey buzz making your steps feel loose, and cross the small gap to where she’s standing. Up close, she’s all heat and confidence—her tank top clings to her frame, her dark hair messy from the day, and she smells faintly of sunscreen and beer. She steps in, closing the distance, and grabs the front of your hoodie, pulling you down just enough to crash her lips into yours.
It’s sudden, rough, and you’re caught off guard—your hands hover for a split second, unsure where to land, before instinct kicks in. You kiss her back, tentative at first, lips brushing hers, tasting the sharp edge of whiskey and the faintest hint of her chapstick. Then she presses closer, her tongue flicking against your bottom lip, and you’re done holding back. You dive in, deepening the kiss, your hands finding her waist, sliding up the curve of her sides under her tank. Her skin’s warm, smooth, and she lets out this little hum against your mouth that sends a jolt straight down your spine.
Sana’s still on the couch, watching, her breath hitching audibly. You can feel her eyes on you, a quiet intensity in the way she’s perched there—legs tucked under her, hands gripping the blanket like it’s an anchor. Miyeon breaks the kiss for a second, her lips hovering an inch from yours, her breath hot against your skin. She glances over her shoulder at Sana, smirking. “Your turn, babe,” she says, her voice thick with promise.
Sana hesitates, her wide eyes darting between you and Miyeon, but there’s no mistaking the want there, the curiosity flickering behind her nerves. She slides off the couch slow, her bare feet padding across the floor, and stops just in front of you. Up close, she’s smaller than Miyeon—slimmer, softer, her oversized tee swallowing her frame, her shorts barely peeking out. Her lips glisten with gloss, and when she looks up at you, all shy and flushed, makes you breathless.
You don’t wait for her to make the first move. You step in, gentle but sure, cupping her face with one hand, your thumb brushing her cheek. “You good?” you murmur, giving her an out, but she just nods, quick and eager, her breath catching. Then you lean in, and her lips meet yours—soft, plush, addictive as hell. She tastes like gloss and the faint tang of beer, sweet and heady, and it’s different from Miyeon’s fire—slower, more tentative, but just as hungry. You kiss her deeper, letting her melt into it, your free hand settling on her hip, pulling her closer. She sighs into your mouth, a tiny, needy sound that lights you up.
Miyeon’s not sitting this out. She steps in behind Sana, her hands sliding over Sana’s shoulders, then down to her waist, guiding her closer to you. She’s watching, her lips parted, eyes dark with heat. Sana’s still kissing you, lost in it, when Miyeon takes her hand—small, trembling—and moves it, pressing it against the front of your jeans. You’re already hard, straining against the denim, and the second Sana’s fingers brush over you, your breath hitches.
“Fuck,” you mutter against Sana’s lips, and Miyeon laughs, low and throaty.
“Hot, right?” Miyeon says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She’s pressed up against Sana’s back now, her chin resting on Sana’s shoulder, watching you both like she’s directing this whole show. Sana’s hand trembles, but she doesn’t pull away—she squeezes, hesitant but curious, her warm palm cupping you through the fabric. It’s clumsy, unsure, but that only makes it hotter, the newness of it driving you wild.
“Jesus, this is insane,” you say, pulling back just enough to look at them—Sana’s blushing hard, her eyes wide and dazed, Miyeon’s grinning, all smug and turned on. Sana’s hand stays where it is, her fingers flexing slightly, like she’s testing how you feel, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to lose it right there.
Miyeon’s eyes flick down to where Sana’s touching you, then back up to your face. “She’s doing good, huh?” she teases, her hand sliding up Sana’s arm, encouraging her. “But fuck, I’m already soaked just watching this. Let’s take it to your room, yeah? This couch isn’t big enough for what I’ve got in mind.”
Sana finally pulls her hand back, her face half-hidden in Miyeon’s neck, embarrassed but buzzing with excitement. You nod, still half-dazed, the reality of it sinking in. “Yeah… yeah, let’s go,” you say, voice rough, your heart hammering as you lead the way.
The hallway’s a blur, your footsteps heavy, their bare feet padding behind you. You push open your bedroom door—messy bed, clothes tossed on the chair, the faint glow of a lamp in the corner—and step inside, the air cooler here but still thick with tension. You turn to face them, Miyeon moves first, her fingers hooking under the hem of her tank top. She peels it off slow, deliberate, letting it slide up her torso, exposing the smooth plane of her stomach, then the curve of her ribs, before tugging it over her head and tossing it aside. Her black bra clings to her, lacy and thin, her medium, perky breasts straining against it—she’s all confidence, hips cocked, watching your reaction.
Sana’s shyer, her hands trembling just a little as she grabs the bottom of her oversized tee. She lifts it up, inch by inch, revealing her slim waist, the faint dip of her navel, then higher until the pink bra comes into view—simple but cute, hugging her slighter, curvier frame. She hesitates for a second before pulling the shirt all the way off, her brown hair tumbling back over her shoulders, and when she drops it to the floor, she’s blushing hard but smiling, caught up in the moment.
They kick off their shorts next—Miyeon’s denim cutoffs hit the ground with a soft thud, leaving her in matching black panties that sit low on her hips, showing off the roundness of her ass. Sana’s shorts slide down her legs slower, pooling at her ankles, and she steps out, her pink panties a soft contrast to Miyeon’s darker set, clinging to her narrower hips. Standing there in just bras and panties, they’re a fucking vision—Miyeon’s thicker, all curves and bold energy, Sana’s slimmer but still lush, her skin glowing in the low light. It’s almost too much, the way they move together, like they’re perfectly in sync even now.
Miyeon steps forward, her bare feet silent on the hardwood, and nods at Sana. “You take the hoodie,” she says, her voice low and husky, thick with intent. “I’ve got the pants.”
Sana moves in, her hands tentative but eager, reaching for the hem of your hoodie. Her fingers brush your stomach as she lifts it, her touch light, almost ticklish, and you raise your arms to help her. She pulls it up and over, her breath catching as she gets a good look at your chest, her eyes flicking up to yours—nervous, excited, a little overwhelmed. The hoodie drops to the floor, and she steps back, biting her lip, like she’s sizing you up.
Miyeon’s not wasting time. She’s already at your waist, her hands deft and sure as she pops the button on your jeans. The zipper comes down with a quick, sharp sound, and she tugs them down, past your hips, letting them pool at your ankles. Her fingers hook into the waistband of your boxers next, and with one smooth pull, those are gone too, sliding down your legs until you’re bare in front of them. She’s kneeling now, right between your thighs as you sit back on the edge of the bed, her movements all purpose and hunger, no hesitation.
Sana joins her, dropping to her knees beside Miyeon, her eyes wide and fixed on your cock—hard, thick, standing up proud. It’s the first one she’s seen up close, and you can tell it’s hitting her all at once. “Holy shit,” she whispers, almost to herself, her hand hovering like she’s not sure what to do with it yet.
Miyeon’s already on it, her fingers wrapping around the base, stroking slow and light, her thumb brushing the underside. “Go on,” she says, glancing at Sana with a smirk. “Touch it.”
Sana reaches out, her small hand trembling just a bit as she lays it over Miyeon’s, following her lead. Her fingers slide up, tentative, tracing the shaft, feeling the weight of it—the heat. She runs her thumb over the tip, where a bead of precum’s already leaking out, and her breath hitches again. “It’s… big,” she says, her voice soft, awed. “And, like… really hot.”
You groan low in your throat, the sound slipping out as their hands work together—Sana’s delicate, curious grip mixing with Miyeon’s firmer, more practiced strokes. Your cock’s throbbing now, pulsing under their touch, and it’s driving you fucking insane. Sana’s fingers wander lower, brushing over the veins, then down to your balls, cupping them gently, rolling them in her palm like she’s figuring it all out. “This is wild,” she mutters, half-laughing, her eyes flicking up to yours for a second before darting back down.
“What do you think?” Miyeon asks her, her voice teasing but edged with her own arousal. She’s watching Sana explore, her own hand still moving, keeping the rhythm steady.
Sana bites her lip, her cheeks flushed deep red. “It’s… I don’t know, it’s kinda crazy how much I like it,” she admits, her fingers tightening slightly, testing the give. “Feels alive or something.”
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” you say, your voice rough, your head tipping back for a second as the sensation hits hard. Miyeon chuckles, low and dirty, and leans closer.
“Taste it,” she says, her eyes locked on Sana’s, pushing her just a little. “Go for it.”
Sana freezes, her hand stilling, but the curiosity’s there—bright and burning in her gaze. She leans in slow, hesitant, her breath warm against your skin as she presses a tiny kiss to the tip, barely grazing it. Then another, softer, her lips parting just enough to taste the salt of you. She pulls back, blinking like she’s surprised herself, then goes again—small licks this time, her tongue darting out, testing the waters. It’s clumsy, unsure, but the heat of her mouth, the wet flick of her tongue—it’s fucking electric.
Miyeon’s watching, her own breath ragged now, her hand slipping away to let Sana take over. “Good, right?” she murmurs, her voice thick. “Keep going.”
Sana gains confidence, her lips closing around the head, sucking gently—experimental, like she’s figuring out how it feels. Her tongue swirls once, twice, and you groan again, louder, your hands gripping the sheets to keep from grabbing her head and guiding her yourself. She pulls back, a thin string of spit connecting her lips to you, and looks up, dazed but grinning. “Okay, yeah,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s… a lot.”
Miyeon laughs, shifting to kneel closer, her shoulder brushing Sana’s. “Told you it’s hot. You’re doing good, babe.” She glances at you, her eyes dark. “He’s loving this shit.”
You nod, breathless, the sight of them there—half-naked, on their knees, Sana’s shy exploration and Miyeon’s hungry stare—burning into your brain.
Miyeon’s got your cock in her hand, her grip firm but teasing, her fingers curling around the base as she angles it toward Sana. “Go on, babe,” she says, her voice a low purr, her eyes flicking up to meet yours—dark, horny, locked in. “He’s all yours.”
Sana’s determination’s kicking in, the shy edge melting away as she leans forward. Her lips part, soft and wet, and she takes you in again—slower this time, more deliberate. The taste’s sinking into her now, the salt and heat, and you can see it in her eyes—she’s getting hooked. Her tongue flattens against the underside, sliding up, then curling around the tip, and you groan, low and rough, your head tipping back for a split second before you snap it forward again to watch. Miyeon’s staring too, her lips parted, her breath coming faster—she’s as turned on as you are, her thighs pressing together like she’s already feeling it.
Sana pushes further, her lips stretching around you, trying to take more. She slides down, her throat tightening, and then—she gags, a little choke that jerks her back. Her eyes water, and she pulls off, coughing into her hand, a flush creeping up her neck.
“Easy, babe,” Miyeon says, her tone soft but firm, one hand rubbing Sana’s back while the other still holds you steady. “Don’t rush it. Breathe.” She brushes Sana’s hair out of her face, gentle but with that edge of control—she’s done this before, knows the game.
Sana nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, catching her breath. “Okay,” she rasps, her voice shaky but eager. “I’m good.”
Miyeon smirks, then shifts her gaze to you. “My turn,” she says, and there’s no hesitation—she’s all in, sliding down to take Sana’s place. Her mouth’s on you in a heartbeat, hot and wet, her tongue moving like she’s mapped you out already. She’s not shy, not slow—she takes you deep right off the bat, her lips sealing tight as she sucks, hard and deliberate. Her hand works what her mouth can’t reach, stroking in sync, slick and fast. You groan louder, your hips twitching, and she hums around you, the vibration hitting you like a fucking freight train.
Sana’s watching, wide-eyed, her embarrassment replaced by something else—amazement, maybe a little envy. She’s seeing a side of Miyeon she didn’t know existed, this confident, dirty edge that’s got her girlfriend deep-throating you like it’s nothing. Miyeon’s eyes flick up to yours, locked in as she bobs her head, her cheeks hollowing out, spit slicking her lips. She pulls off slow, dragging her tongue along the underside one last time, leaving you dripping—your cock’s a mess now, glistening with her spit, throbbing hard.
“Wet enough for you, babe,” Miyeon says, wiping her chin with a smirk, her voice thick with pride. She glances at Sana, who’s still staring, her breath uneven. “Ready?”
They both stand, peeling off the last of their clothes with a slow, teasing grace that’s almost cruel. Miyeon unhooks her bra first, letting it fall to the floor—her breasts bounce free, full and perky, nipples already hard in the cool air. She shimmies out of her black panties next, kicking them aside, and she’s stark naked now, all smooth skin and curves, thick in the right places. Sana follows, quieter, her fingers fumbling with her bra clasp until it snaps open—her breasts are smaller, softer, but perfect, her nipples a faint pink that matches her blush. She slides her panties down her legs, stepping out delicately, and when they’re both bare in front of you, it’s like every dirty dream you’ve ever had coming to life.
Miyeon twirls once, playful but deliberate, her ass jiggling just enough to make your mouth dry. “What do you think?” she asks, hands on her hips, her voice dripping with that cocky flirtation she’s mastered. Sana spins too, a little clumsier, her hair swinging as she laughs through her nerves.
“Fuck,” you say, the word slipping out before you can stop it. “You’re the hottest girls I’ve ever seen. No contest.”
They grin—Miyeon smug, Sana shy—and climb onto the bed. The mattress dips under their weight, the sheets rustling as Sana lies back, stretching out on her back, her head resting on the pillows. Her legs part slightly, not blatant but enough to draw your eye, her body a soft, inviting curve against the dark fabric. Miyeon slides in beside her, propping herself up on one elbow, her naked body pressed close to Sana’s—her hand rests on Sana’s stomach, casual but possessive, her fingers splaying out like she’s staking a claim.
The rain’s still hammering outside, a dull roar that only amps up the tension in here. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, cock still hard and slick from their mouths, and the way they’re looking at you—Sana’s nervous excitement, Miyeon’s hungry confidence—it’s like they’re pulling you in without even moving.
You’re kneeling between Sana’s legs now, her thighs soft and trembling under your hands, her skin flushed pink from the booze and the buildup. She’s sprawled out beneath you, her chest rising and falling fast, her eyes locked on yours—wide, nervous, but burning with want.
You pause, reality cutting through the haze for a second, and clear your throat. “Uh, shit—girls, I don’t have a condom,” you say, voice rough, a little sheepish. “Wasn’t exactly planning on… this when I booked the lake house.”
Miyeon smirks, unfazed, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Sana’s skin. “It’s fine,” she says, her tone smooth, deliberate. “She needs to feel you—like, really feel you. No rubber bullshit. Right, babe?” She glances at Sana, squeezing her breast gently, her thumb brushing over a nipple that’s already pebbled and sensitive.
Sana bites her lip, her breath hitching, but she nods—small at first, then firmer. “Yeah… I want that,” she whispers, her voice shaky but sure, her eyes flicking down to where your cock’s resting against her thigh, hard and leaking. “I’ve never… you know. I wanna know what it’s like.”
You swallow hard, the weight of it hitting you—Sana’s first time with a guy, and it’s you, bare, with Miyeon watching, guiding. It’s a fucking rush, equal parts thrilling and insane. “Alright,” you say, voice low, steadying yourself. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”
Miyeon leans in, her lips brushing Sana’s in a kiss that’s soft but deep, all tongue and tenderness, her hand kneading Sana’s breast harder now, rolling the nipple between her fingers. Sana moans into it, her body arching slightly, and you take that as your cue. You shift, lining yourself up, the tip of your cock brushing her entrance—she’s soaked, slick from everything before, her folds glistening in the dim light. You press forward just enough to part her, the head nudging inside, and Sana gasps, her mouth breaking away from Miyeon’s, her hands clutching the sheets.
“Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes squeezing shut for a second, then fluttering open to look at you. It’s tight—hot, wet and tight as hell—and you freeze, letting her adjust, feeling her walls clench around you like they’re figuring you out.
“Slow,” Miyeon murmurs, her voice a soft command, her eyes flicking to yours. “Don’t hurt her, okay? She’s my girl.” There’s that edge of possession in her tone, but it’s laced with something romantic, something deep—she’s sharing Sana with you, but it’s all love, all care, and it’s fucking hot how she balances both.
“I got her,” you say, your hands sliding to Sana’s hips, gripping her gently, keeping her steady. “You good?” you ask, checking in, your voice tight with how bad you want to move.
Sana nods, her lips parting. “Yeah… keep going.”
You ease in, slow as fuck, inch by inch, watching her face—her brows furrow a little, her mouth opens wider, and then she sighs, a long, shaky sound that’s pure relief mixed with want. She’s so tight it’s unreal, her heat wrapping you, pulling you in, and you’re halfway there when she tenses, her thighs squeezing your hips. You stop, breathing hard, your fingers digging into her skin just enough to hold her still.
“Tell me when,” you say, your control hanging by a thread, the way Miyeon’s watching you both—eyes dark, lips wet—only making it worse.
Sana exhales, nodding again. “Now… more.”
You push deeper, careful but steady, until you’re all the way in, buried to the hilt, her walls fluttering around you like a fucking heartbeat. She’s full of you now, and you can feel it—every twitch, every pulse—and it’s driving you nuts. Sana’s head tips back, a low moan slipping out, and Miyeon’s right there, kissing her neck, whispering something soft you can’t catch, her hand still working Sana’s breast like she’s coaxing her through it.
“Goddamn,” you mutter, your voice breaking, because this—Miyeon giving her girl to you, Sana taking you raw, the love and the lust all twisted up—is some next-level shit. “You feel… fuck, unreal.”
Miyeon smirks at you, her hand sliding down Sana’s stomach now, teasing just above where you’re connected. “She’s perfect, right?” she says, then leans into Sana’s ear. “You like him inside you, babe?”
Sana whimpers, nodding fast. “Yeah… so much,” she breathes, her hips shifting like she’s testing the feel of you, and that’s all it takes—you start moving, slow pulls back, gentle thrusts in, letting her get used to it. Her moans are quiet at first, little gasps and sighs, but they build fast, her body responding, her legs spreading wider.
Miyeon’s eyes are on you now, hot and approving. “Faster,” she says, her voice cutting through the haze. “She can take it. Give it to her harder.”
You hesitate for a second, checking Sana’s face—she’s nodding, her hands reaching for your arms, pulling you closer—so you pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, the bed creaking under you. Sana’s moans turn sharp, her nails digging into your forearms, and Miyeon’s right there, kissing her through it, her hand slipping between Sana’s legs, fingers brushing her clit to push her higher.
“Fuck, yes,” Sana gasps, her voice trembling, her walls clenching tighter around you with every stroke. “Don’t stop.”
You don’t—can’t—your hips snapping harder now, the wet sound of skin on skin mixing with the rain outside, filthy and raw. Miyeon’s watching you like you’re putting on a show just for her, her lips parted, her breathing ragged, and it’s that—her gaze, Sana’s tight heat, the whole damn scene—that’s got you teetering on the edge already, every thrust pulling you deeper into the madness of it.
You’re buried deep in Sana, your hips driving into her with a steady, hard rhythm that’s got the headboard tapping the wall like a metronome. Her moans are loud now—sharp, desperate little cries that fill the room, her thin frame trembling beneath you. She’s so tight it’s unreal, her walls gripping you like a vise, slick and hot, pulling you in deeper with every thrust. You’ve got her legs spread wide, one hand hooked under her knee, holding her open, the other braced on the mattress as you lean into her.
Miyeon’s right there beside her, naked and sprawled out, her hand slipping between her own thighs. She’s touching herself, slow at first, her fingers circling her clit as she watches you fuck her girlfriend. Her eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, her breathing ragged—she’s so turned on it’s obscene, and she doesn’t hold back with the dirty talk. “Fuck, babe,” she says, her voice husky, glancing at Sana. “Is his cock better than my strap? Tell me.”
Sana’s head jerks back, a loud moan ripping from her throat as you hit a deep spot. “Yes—fuck, yes,” she gasps, her nails clawing at your arms, leaving little crescent marks. “So much better… it’s so fucking good.”
That’s like rocket fuel to you. You grin, sweat beading down your forehead, and double down, your thrusts picking up speed, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. Miyeon’s fingers move faster too, her other hand gripping the sheets as she watches, her pride flaring up. “Hear that?” she says, locking eyes with you, her voice dripping with heat. “You loving this? Fucking my girl senseless?”
“Shit, yeah,” you groan, your breath ragged, your cock throbbing inside Sana’s tight heat. “She’s so fucking tight, Miyeon. Like—Jesus, I can barely think straight.”
Miyeon smirks, smug and horny all at once, her fingers plunging into herself now, matching your pace. “Proud of her,” she purrs, her gaze flicking between your face and where you’re disappearing into Sana. “Bet you’d kill to feel that pussy all the time, huh? So hot, so tight, those sweet little moans—she’s a goddamn dream, right?”
You can’t even form words, just a low, needy moan that’s half-agreement, half-losing-your-shit. Sana’s whimpering now, her body rocking with every thrust, her skinny frame so delicate you can see the faint bulge of your cock stretching her out, pressing against her flat stomach. Miyeon’s mesmerized by it, her eyes glued to the sight, her own moans mixing with Sana’s as she fucks herself harder.
“Ruin her,” Miyeon says suddenly, her voice sharp, commanding, her fingers slick and fast. “Fucking pound that tight little pussy. She can take it.”
You go all out, pounding into Sana now, her skinny frame jolting beneath you with every thrust, her legs splayed wide—knees hooked over your arms, her pussy open and vulnerable, taking you deep. She’s a mess, her brown hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, her cheeks flushed a wild, desperate pink. Her moans are loud, unrestrained, spilling out in sharp bursts that cut through the steady slap of your hips against hers. You’ve got her pinned, driving hard, her tight little pussy gripping you like it’s trying to strangle your cock—hot, wet, and pulsing with every slam, and her walls are clenching tighter now, her breath hitching, and you can feel it—she’s teetering right on the edge, her body trembling like a live wire about to snap.
“Fuck—fuck, your cock,” Sana gasps, her voice breaking into a raw, filthy moan, her hands clawing at the sheets, ripping at them like she’s losing her goddamn mind. “It’s so fucking good—shit, I love it, I love your cock so much!” Her hips buck up to meet you, sloppy and wild, chasing the friction, her pussy soaking you, dripping down your thighs. She’s unhinged, her words tumbling out fast and dirty, no filter, just pure need. “Harder—fuck me harder, don’t stop, I need it, I fucking need it!”
You growl, the sound ripping from your chest, and give her what she wants—slamming into her with everything you’ve got, your cock stretching her out, hitting that deep, sweet spot that makes her scream. Her whole body locks up, her skinny frame arching off the bed, her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust. “Like that?” you snarl, gripping her hips so hard your fingers leave red marks, pulling her back onto you. “Fucking take it—cum all over this dick, Sana.”
Miyeon’s moaning now, her fingers plunging into her own pussy, her other hand tweaking her nipple as she watches, her voice a low, horny rasp. “Goddamn, babe—look at you,” she says, her eyes glued to where your cock’s disappearing into Sana’s dripping cunt. “You’re losing it—fucking love that cock, don’t you? So hot, so fucking slutty like this.” She’s panting, her thighs trembling as she fucks herself faster, turned on beyond reason by Sana’s unraveling. “Cum for him—fucking soak that dick, I wanna see it.”
Sana’s eyes roll back, her mouth open in a silent scream that turns into a loud, broken wail as the orgasm hits her like a goddamn freight train. “Fuck—oh fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her voice shattering, her pussy clamping down so hard around you it’s almost painful—spasming wildly, gushing wet heat that slicks your cock, her thighs, the sheets. She’s thrashing now, completely out of control, her skinny body jerking like she’s possessed, her hands flying to your arms, nails digging in deep enough to draw blood. “Your cock—shit, I love it, it’s so big, so fucking deep—don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”
You don’t—can’t—your hips slamming into her harder, faster, riding her through it as her pussy milks you, her cum dripping down your balls, pooling under her ass. She’s screaming, incoherent now—just raw, animal sounds, her head thrashing side to side, her hair sticking to her face. “Yes—fuck yes, keep fucking me—love it, love your cock—fuck!” Her voice is a mess, slurring into sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably, her orgasm stretching out, relentless, like it’s tearing her apart.
Miyeon’s losing her mind watching it, her hand a blur between her legs, her moans turning sharp and desperate. “Holy shit—look at her,” she gasps, her voice thick with lust, her pussy dripping onto the sheets as she rubs herself raw. “She’s cumming so fucking hard—so goddamn sexy, babe, you’re a fucking mess on that dick.” She’s panting, her eyes flicking between Sana’s wrecked face and the bulge of your cock stretching her girlfriend’s flat stomach with every thrust. “Keep going—fuck her stupid, she loves it, look at her fucking cum!”
Sana’s still going, her pussy pulsing like a heartbeat, her moans turning into whimpers as the pleasure overloads her—sensitive, raw, but she’s still pushing back against you, greedy for more. “Please—shit, please, keep fucking me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, trembling, her hands reaching for you like she’s drowning. “Your cock’s so good—so fucking good—I can’t stop cumming!”
You growl again, leaning over her, your chest heaving as you keep up the pace, your cock throbbing inside her, the wet, filthy sound of her pussy taking you over and over driving you wild. “You’re a fucking addict,” you mutter, your voice rough, dripping with heat. “Love this dick so much—cum again, Sana, let me feel that tight little pussy lose it.”
Miyeon’s moaning louder now, her fingers plunging deep, her hips bucking against her own hand. “She’s so fucking hot,” she says, her voice cracking, her eyes wide and wild. “Look at her—cumming like a slut on your cock. Fuck, I’m gonna cum just watching this—keep fucking her, make her scream!”
Sana’s beyond words now—just gasps and cries, her body convulsing, her pussy still spasming around you as the orgasm drags on, relentless, her cum soaking everything—your cock, your hips, the bed. She’s shaking so hard her thighs are quivering, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the last waves. “Fuck—fuck, I love it,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible, wrecked and raw. “Your cock—shit, it’s everything.”
You slow down, just enough to let her breathe, but you’re still buried deep, her pussy twitching around you, sensitive as hell. Miyeon’s panting, her hand slowing as she watches Sana come down, her own chest heaving. “Jesus Christ,” she mutters, licking her lips, her fingers still slick with her own arousal. “That was fucking insane—she’s never cum like that. You’re a goddamn beast.”
Sana’s eyes flutter open, glassy and dazed, a weak smile tugging at her lips as she looks up at you. “Fuck… that was…” She can’t finish, just shakes her head, her breath still shaky, her body limp beneath you. You pull out slow, your cock slick with her, and she whimpers at the loss, her pussy glistening, fucked-out and dripping with her cum. Miyeon’s still staring, horny and proud, her girlfriend a beautiful, shattered mess—and it’s all because of you.
Then, before you can react, Miyeon’s on you in a heartbeat, her hand wrapping around your shaft, stroking it as she leans in close. “Messy boy,” she teases, then lowers her mouth, licking you clean—long, slow swipes of her tongue that taste Sana all over you. She sucks the tip for a second, pulling a groan from your throat, before pulling back with a wet pop, her lips shiny.
You reach over, giving Miyeon’s ass a firm squeeze—round, perfect, begging for attention. “Your turn now,” you say, voice rough, still riding the high of fucking Sana senseless.
Miyeon grins, wicked and eager, and pushes you back onto the bed with a shove to your chest. You hit the mattress flat on your back, the sheets cool against your skin, your cock standing up hard and ready. “Lie down for me,” she says, climbing over you, her knees straddling your hips. She’s all curves and heat, her pussy already glistening as she hovers above you. Then she turns to Sana, who’s still catching her breath, propped up on her elbows. “Sit on his face, babe,” Miyeon says, her tone playful but firm. “He needs to taste you too—it’s fucking addictive.”
Sana hesitates for a second, still dazed, but the idea lights something in her eyes. She crawls up the bed, her slim frame moving slow, deliberate, until she’s kneeling over your head. You look up, and it’s a goddamn sight—her pussy right there, pink and wet from her orgasm, her thighs trembling just slightly as she lowers herself. “You sure?” she murmurs, glancing down at you, her voice soft but thick with want.
“Fuck yes,” you say, grabbing her hips and pulling her down. Her scent hits you first—sweet, musky, heady as hell—and then she’s on you, her folds slick against your lips. You groan into her, your tongue flicking out, tasting her—salty and tangy and so fucking good. She gasps, her hands bracing against the headboard, her body rocking slightly as you lick into her, slow and deep, savoring every inch.
Miyeon’s not waiting around. She lines herself up over your cock, her hands on your chest for balance, and sinks down—slow at first, just the tip, her pussy hot and tight around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head tipping back, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she takes you deeper, inch by inch. She’s thicker than Sana, her walls plush and soaking, and when she’s fully seated, her ass flush against your thighs, you’re gone—lost in the dual sensation of Miyeon riding you and Sana on your face.
“God, you’re big,” Miyeon says, her voice breathy, her hips rolling once, testing the stretch. “Feels so fucking good.”
Sana’s whimpering above you, her thighs clenching around your head as you suck on her clit, your tongue circling, then plunging inside her again. “Don’t stop,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “Please, don’t fucking stop.”
Miyeon starts moving, her hips lifting and dropping, slow at first, then faster, her hands digging into your chest. “Look at her,” she pants, glancing up at Sana. “She’s losing her mind up there. You like his tongue, babe?”
“Fuck—yes,” Sana chokes out, her hips grinding down now, smearing her wetness across your face. “So good… didn’t know it’d be this good.”
You groan into Sana, the vibration making her buck, and Miyeon laughs, low and dirty. “I knew,” she says, picking up the pace, her pussy slamming down on you harder now, wet and messy. “He’s a fucking natural.”
The room’s a mix of filth—Sana’s moans, Miyeon’s gasps, the slick sounds of skin and sex, all layered over the rain’s dull roar. You’re drowning in it—Sana’s taste flooding your mouth, Miyeon’s tight heat swallowing your cock, the insane push-pull of giving and taking. Your hands grip Sana’s hips harder, guiding her as you eat her out, your tongue relentless, and Miyeon’s riding you like she owns you, her nails leaving red trails on your skin.
“Fuck—don’t stop,” she gasps, then she shifts her gaze, looking up at Miyeon, and her voice turns filthy, wilder than you’ve heard all night. “God, babe, you look so fucking hot riding his cock like that. Bouncing on him—shit, it’s driving me crazy.”
Miyeon groans, her pace faltering for a second as Sana’s words hit her like a spark. She glances down, her dark hair swinging over her face, her lips curling into a horny smirk. “Yeah? You’re so fucking sexy like this, Sana—spread out, moaning on his face. Never seen you this slutty before.” Her hands slide up her own body, squeezing her tits through the motion, her nipples hard and poking against her palms.
Sana whimpers, her hips bucking against your mouth, and fires back, “You’re one to talk—look at you, fucking him like a pro. So hot, babe. Love watching you take that dick.”
The dirty talk’s like gasoline on a fire—Miyeon’s pussy clenches tighter around you, her thrusts turning sharper, more desperate, and you groan into Sana, the vibration making her jolt. “Keep sucking her,” Miyeon says, her voice rough, commanding, her eyes locked on yours through the haze. “Make her cum again. I wanna see her lose it.”
Sana’s already sensitive as hell—her last orgasm left her shaky, her clit throbbing under your tongue—but you don’t let up. You flatten your tongue against her, dragging it up slow, then circling fast, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. “Fuck—too much,” she whines, but her hips keep grinding, chasing it anyway, her body begging for more. You’re so caught up in it—Sana’s wet heat on your face, Miyeon’s tight grip riding you—that your own control’s slipping, your cock pulsing hard inside her with every filthy word they trade.
“Goddamn, you’re gonna make me cum just talking like that,” Miyeon moans, her hands gripping your thighs now, slamming down harder, her ass jiggling with every impact, her pussy’s dripping, soaking your hips. “Keep going, babe,” she tells Sana, her voice dripping with lust. “Tell me how much you love this.”
Sana’s panting, her words slurring into gasps as you push her closer. “Love it—fuck, love watching you ride him. So good… so fucking good,” she manages, her voice breaking as you suck her clit between your lips, flicking your tongue over it fast and relentless. Her thighs clamp around your head, her moans turning into sharp little screams, and you can feel it—she’s right there.
“Cum on his face,” Miyeon growls, her hips snapping down harder, her own breath hitching as she watches Sana unravel. “Fucking soak him.”
Sana loses it—her second orgasm crashes through her, her body seizing up as she cries out, high and raw. You keep your mouth on her, licking her through it, and then she’s shaking, her pussy pulsing hard against your tongue. She shifts, desperate now, and rubs herself over your face, her hand flying between her legs to work her clit faster. Then—holy shit—she squirts, little bursts of wet heat splashing across your chest, your neck, dripping down your jaw. It’s messy, wild, and you lap up what you can, groaning into her as she collapses forward, gasping for air.
“Holy fuck,” Miyeon says, slowing her ride for a second to watch, her eyes wide, her pussy clenching around you like she’s about to blow too. “That was insane. Now I need a taste.” She slides off you, your cock springing free, slick and throbbing, and you’re still catching your breath as she takes charge.
“69,” Miyeon says, decisive, pointing at the bed. “Sana, lie down—head at the edge. Let’s switch this up.”
Sana’s still dazed, her legs wobbly, but she does it—crawling onto the bed, stretching out on her back, her head hanging just off the mattress’ edge, her brown hair spilling down like a curtain. She’s panting, her skin glistening with sweat, her pussy still twitching from her release. Miyeon climbs over her, positioning herself on all fours—her knees bracketing Sana’s head, her ass sticking out toward you, round and perfect, her own pussy glistening and begging for attention.
You’re off the bed now, standing at the edge, your cock hard and slick with both of them, the room spinning with how fucking intense this is. Miyeon looks back at you over her shoulder, her eyes dark and commanding. “Fuck me,” she says, simple and raw, wiggling her ass just enough to make it clear what she wants. “And Sana’s gonna eat me out while you do it.”
Sana’s hands reach up, grabbing Miyeon’s thighs, pulling her down closer to her mouth, and you can hear the soft, wet sound of her tongue already working—Miyeon moans instantly, her body arching. You step up, gripping Miyeon’s hips, your cock brushing against her entrance, and the scene in front of you—Sana’s face buried between Miyeon’s legs, Miyeon’s ass up and waiting—is so filthy, so perfect, you can barely process it. The rain’s a distant hum, the world narrowed down to this bed, these girls, this moment.
And before you know it, you're already inside her
Your hands grab Miyeon’s cheeks, spreading them wide as you watch your cock slide in and out of her—glistening, thick, stretching her tight little hole with every thrust. Her pussy’s hypnotic, a vise of heat and wet that sucks you in deeper each time, her walls pulsing like they’re trying to milk you dry. She’s on all fours over Sana, her knees sinking into the mattress, her ass high and perfect, swaying with every pounding you give her.
Below, Sana’s lying flat, her head tilted off the edge, her slim throat exposed as she devours Miyeon’s pussy. Her tongue’s working hard, flicking over Miyeon’s clit, dipping into her folds, and you can hear the sloppy, wet noises—Sana’s eager, relentless, her mouth making these little sucking sounds that drive Miyeon wild. Miyeon’s trying to keep up, her face buried between Sana’s thighs, licking and sucking in return, but it’s a mess—she’s too fucked-out to focus, her moans vibrating against Sana’s skin every time you slam into her. Her dark hair’s plastered to her back with sweat, strands sticking to her neck, and her body’s trembling, caught between the dual assault of your cock and Sana’s tongue.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groan, your voice rough, hands digging into Miyeon’s flesh as you pull her back onto you, watching the way her pussy swallows your dick whole. “This shit’s unreal—look at you, taking it like a champ.”
Miyeon lifts her head just enough to gasp, her voice cracking with pleasure. “Goddamn—don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare. It’s too much—shit, I’m so close.” Her words slur together, half-muffled as she dives back into Sana’s pussy, but you can tell she’s struggling to keep it together—her tongue’s sloppy now, her focus shredded by the way you’re railing her.
Sana’s moaning too, her hips twitching up against Miyeon’s mouth, her hands clawing at Miyeon’s thighs to pull her closer. “Fuck, sweetie—your pussy’s so wet,” she whimpers, her voice high and needy, muffled against Miyeon’s clit. “He’s fucking you so good—I can taste it, babe, it’s dripping all over me.”
That sends a jolt through Miyeon—she groans into Sana, her hips bucking back against you harder, like she’s begging for more. “You like that, huh?” you say, smirking, spreading her wider, thrusting deeper until you’re hitting that spot that makes her whole body jolt. “Love hearing your girl talk dirty while I’m balls-deep in you?”
“Fuck—yes,” Miyeon chokes out, her ass jiggling with every slam, her voice shaking as Sana’s tongue flicks faster. “She’s—shit—she’s driving me insane down there. And you… you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
“Do it,” you growl, your grip tightening, your cock throbbing inside her as the tension builds. “Cum for me, Miyeon. Let me feel that pussy lose it.”
Sana pulls back just enough to gasp, her lips shiny with Miyeon’s juices, her eyes wide and wild. “Please, babe—cum all over his dick. I wanna taste it after, wanna lick it clean.” Her words are pure filth, her voice trembling with how horny she is, and it’s like a switch flips in Miyeon.
“Fuck—okay, I’m—fuck!” Miyeon’s voice cuts off, her body locking up, and you feel it—her pussy clamping down hard around you, spasming wildly as she hits her peak. She’s loud, screaming into Sana’s thighs, her whole frame shaking as the orgasm rips through her. You keep thrusting, riding it out with her, but it’s intense—her walls fluttering, squeezing you so tight it’s almost too much.
You pull out slow, your cock slick and dripping with her, and Miyeon’s still trembling, her ass quivering like she’s not done yet. “Sana—lube him up,” you say, voice hoarse, stepping closer to where Sana’s head hangs off the bed. Sana’s quick—she cranes her neck, her mouth open and eager, and takes you in deep. Her lips wrap around you, soft and warm, her tongue swirling as she sucks you clean, tasting Miyeon all over you. She moans around your cock, her eyes fluttering shut like it’s the best thing she’s ever had, her small hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer.
“Fuck, Sana,” you mutter, your hand tangling in her hair, guiding her as she bobs her head, sloppy and wet. “You’re so good at this—you're loving the taste of her on my cock, huh?”
She pulls off with a gasp, spit trailing from her lips to your tip, nodding fast. “Yeah—fuck, she’s so sweet. I could eat her all day, but this… this is hot as hell.” Her tongue darts out, licking you one more time, and you’re rock-hard, pulsing with need.
“Back in,” Miyeon pants, her voice raw, still on her knees over Sana. “Fuck me again—harder this time. I want it.”
You don’t hesitate. You step back behind her, grabbing her hips, spreading her ass again as you line up and thrust in—one smooth, deep push that has her screaming, her voice echoing off the walls. “Fuck—yes!” she cries, her hands fisting the sheets, her pussy still sensitive but greedy, sucking you in like it can’t get enough. You go hard, pounding into her with a force that makes her whole body shake, her ass bouncing with every brutal thrust.
“Take it—fucking take it,” you growl, slapping her ass sharp, the crack of skin on skin cutting through the room. The sting makes her yelp, her pussy clenching tighter, and you feel the heat building in your gut, the pressure coiling fast. “Cum again, Miyeon—cum for us.”
Sana’s still under her, her tongue working Miyeon’s clit in frantic little circles, and she’s begging now, her voice high and desperate. “Please, babe—cum again. I need it—need to feel you lose it on him. Cum all over that fat dick.”
Miyeon’s a wreck, her head thrashing, her moans turning into sobs as the pleasure overloads her. “Fuck—Sana—you’re—shit, I can’t—” She breaks, her pussy spasming hard around you again, wet and wild, her second orgasm hitting like a storm. She screams, her ass pushing back against you, and it’s too fucking much—her tightness, Sana’s filthy pleas, the whole damn scene.
“Gonna cum,” you moan, your voice breaking, your thrusts turning erratic as the pleasure blinds you. “Fuck—Miyeon, you’re too good—gonna blow.”
Sana’s quick, her head twisting up from under Miyeon. “I want it,” she says, breathless, her eyes glinting with something feral. “Wanna taste your cum—first time, fuck, give it to me.”
Miyeon’s slutty side flares—she’s still shaking, still clenching you, but she grins through it. “Yeah—give it to her,” she pants, her voice thick with lust. “She’s begging so nice, huh? Fucking coat her with it.”
That does it. You’re at the edge, your cock throbbing, and you pull out fast, one hand stroking yourself hard, the other gripping Miyeon’s ass for balance. “Fuck—here it comes,” you groan, aiming the tip at Miyeon’s pussy—still wet, warm, pulsing from her orgasm. You rub it against her entrance, slick, red and swollen from the pounding you gave her, and then you’re there—cumming, thick and hot, spilling over Miyeon’s entrance in heavy ropes—white streaks painting her folds, dripping down her slit, pooling in the creases where her pussy meets her thighs. It’s a fucking load, more than you expected, a messy testament to how long it’s been, and it smears across her skin, glossy and obscene in the dim light.
“Sana, now,” you rasp, voice hoarse, your chest heaving as the last of it drips from your tip. “Taste it.”
Miyeon’s still in position, her ass up, her pussy hovering over Sana’s face—she shifts her hips down closer, eager, her breath hitching with a horny little whimper. “Fuck, babe, go for it,” she urges, her voice thick with lust, her fingers digging into Sana’s thighs to hold her steady. “Lick it up—his cum’s all over me. Tell me how it feels.”
Sana’s beneath her, her slim frame pinned to the bed, her head tilted back off the edge—her brown hair a wild spill, her lips parted and trembling. She’s never done this before, never tasted a guy’s cum, and you can see it in her eyes—nervous excitement, a raw curiosity burning behind the flush on her cheeks. Her tongue darts out first, tentative, a soft little flick against Miyeon’s inner thigh where a bead of your cum’s trickled down. She pauses, tasting it—salty, bitter, warm on her tongue—and her breath catches, a tiny gasp slipping out.
“More,” Miyeon coaxes, lowering herself further, her pussy brushing Sana’s lips now, your cum streaking across her mouth. “Get it all, babe. I want you to feel him.”
Sana dives in, bolder now, her tongue sweeping up Miyeon’s slit in a slow, deliberate stroke—dragging through the sticky mess of your cum, thick and creamy, mixed with Miyeon’s own slickness. She moans, low and shaky, the sound vibrating against Miyeon’s pussy, and it’s like she’s tasting something forbidden—something filthy and new that’s lighting her up inside. Her lips close around Miyeon’s folds, sucking gently, pulling your cum into her mouth, and her eyes flutter shut, lost in it. It’s raw, messy—her chin’s wet with it now, smears of white clinging to her skin, and she’s licking harder, deeper, chasing every drop.
“Fuck, yes,” Miyeon groans, her hips rocking down, grinding herself against Sana’s tongue. She’s horny as hell, her voice dripping with it—proud and turned on, watching her girlfriend taste you off her wrecked cunt. “How is it, babe? How’s his cum taste? Tell me.”
Sana pulls back just enough to speak, her voice muffled, lips glossy and dripping—a mix of your cum and Miyeon’s juices shining on her like some lewd, natural gloss. “It’s—fuck, it’s intense,” she says, her words slurring with arousal, her tongue flicking out again to lap at a thick streak sliding down Miyeon’s slit. “Salty… hot… kinda bitter, but—shit, I love it.” She dives back in, her tongue plunging deeper, scooping up more, her moans louder now, needy and unrestrained. She’s sucking Miyeon clean, her lips smacking softly, wet and sloppy, and it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen—Sana’s first taste of cum, and she’s devouring it like it’s her new favorite drug.
Miyeon’s trembling above her, her thighs quaking, her fingers tightening on Sana’s legs as Sana’s tongue works her over. “Goddamn, babe—you’re so fucking dirty,” she pants, her eyes rolling back for a second before snapping to you, wild and gleaming. “Look at her—she’s eating your cum like she’s starving. So fucking hot.” She shifts, pressing her pussy harder against Sana’s mouth, smearing more of the mess across her lips, and Sana takes it—greedy, unashamed, her tongue swirling through it all, swallowing every bit she can get.
Sana’s hands slide up, gripping Miyeon’s ass now, pulling her down tighter, her nails digging into the soft flesh. She’s moaning into Miyeon’s pussy, the sound raw and desperate, muffled by the wet heat she’s buried in. “More,” she mumbles, barely audible, her tongue lashing across Miyeon’s clit where a last streak of your cum lingers—thick and clinging. She sucks it off, slow and deliberate, her lips closing around the sensitive bud, and Miyeon jolts, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.
“Fuck—Sana,” Miyeon gasps, her voice breaking, her body shuddering as Sana’s mouth pushes her toward overstimulation. She’s still horny, still buzzing, but this moment—it’s intimate, just them now, sharing something primal. So she moves, leaving the 69 position to sit facing Sana, because she needs to see her girlfriend's delicate and lovely face covered in pure lust, in pure pleasure, her fingers tangling in Sana’s hair, gentle but firm, holding her there. “How’s it feel? First time tasting him—tell me everything.”
Sana pulls back again, just enough to breathe, her face a wreck—chin dripping, lips swollen and shiny, your cum streaked across her mouth like war paint. She licks her lips slow, deliberate, tasting the last of you, and looks up at Miyeon with this dazed, lust-drunk grin. “It’s—so fucking good,” she whispers, her voice trembling with how much she means it. “Like… I didn’t know it’d be this thick, this warm. It’s—fuck, it’s everywhere, and I can’t stop wanting it.” She leans in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Miyeon’s pussy, her tongue darting out one last time to swipe through the mess—your cum, her spit, Miyeon’s slick—all blending together in a filthy, perfect mix.
Miyeon moans, soft and low, her body relaxing into it now, her horny edge softening into something tender. “You’re so fucking cute,” she murmurs, her hand stroking Sana’s hair, her thumb brushing her cheek where a smear of cum still clings. “My dirty girl—loving it, huh?”
Sana nods, her eyes bright, a little shy now but glowing with satisfaction. She crawls up slow, sliding off the bed to sit up, her lips still wet and glistening—your cum and Miyeon’s juices a slick sheen across her mouth and chin. Miyeon follows, shifting to kneel in front of her, their bodies close, intimate. She cups Sana’s face, her thumbs tracing the edges of her lips, smearing the mess a little more, and leans in—kissing her deep, slow, tasting you on her tongue. It’s raw, possessive, but soft too—their mouths moving together, sharing the aftermath, a quiet hum of pleasure passing between them.
You’re slumped beside them, chest still heaving, your cock twitching with the last echoes of your orgasm as you watch—mesmerized, spent, but still buzzing from the sight. Miyeon pulls back from the kiss, a thin string of spit and cum connecting their lips for a second before it snaps, and she licks it away, grinning. “Good, right?” she whispers, her eyes flicking to Sana’s.
“So good,” Sana breathes, her smile small but real, her first taste of you lingering on her tongue—intense, erotic, a memory she’s already savoring. They lean into each other again, foreheads touching, giggling softly in the afterglow.
“Glad you liked it,” you say, voice rough, still catching your breath. “Shit, that was intense.”
Miyeon turns to you, her hand resting on your thigh, casual but warm. “You liked it too, huh? We can do this again—anytime you’re up for it. You’re, like… officially our guy now.”
Sana giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, her lips soft and sticky. “Yeah, you’re stuck with us. Such a good friend—taking care of me like that.”
Miyeon follows, pressing a kiss to your other cheek, her touch lingering. “Thanks, dude. For real—for being so cool with Sana. Means a lot.”
You laugh, the sound tired but content, your hand running through your hair. “Anytime. Fucking honor, honestly.”
Miyeon stretches out, her body glistening with sweat, and yawns. “Okay, post-sex vibe check—we’re done fucking, right? Let’s crash here, all of us. Naked, cozy, whatever.”
“Works for me,” you say, settling back against the pillows, the mattress dipping as Sana curls up on one side, Miyeon on the other. Their skin’s warm against yours, their breaths slowing, and the rain outside lulls the room into a quiet, sated haze. You’re all wrecked, tangled, and happy as hell—ready to sleep it off, together.
—
The morning sun filters through the blinds, casting soft, golden stripes across the tangled mess of sheets and limbs on the bed. You wake up slow, your body heavy and warm, sandwiched between two soft, naked forms—Miyeon on your left, her arm draped lazily over your chest, her breath warm against your neck; Sana on your right, her legs tangled with yours, her head nestled into your shoulder. It’s a surreal fucking moment, the kind that makes you blink and wonder if last night was a dream. But the ache in your muscles, the faint sting of scratch marks on your arms, and the raw, vivid memory of their moans tell you it was real—insanely, mind-blowingly real. You shift slightly, trying to stretch without waking them, but your morning wood’s already making itself known, tenting the sheet that’s barely clinging to your hips. Damn, even after all that, your body’s still ready to go.
Miyeon stirs first, her eyes fluttering open, still heavy with sleep, a lazy smile tugging at her lips as she spots your hard-on. “Well, good morning to you too,” she mumbles, her voice low and raspy, thick with that post-sleep huskiness that’s sexy as hell. Her hand slides down your chest, slow and teasing, fingers brushing over your stomach before wrapping around your cock. She strokes you lightly, still half-asleep, her grip loose but deliberate, like she’s just playing with you for now. “Guess you’re not tapped out yet, huh?”
You groan softly, the touch sending a jolt through you, and turn your head to see Sana blinking awake too, her brown hair a messy halo around her face. She yawns, stretching her arms above her head, her small tits peeking out from under the sheet, then glances down at Miyeon’s hand on you. A sleepy grin spreads across her face. “Seriously? Already?” she says, her voice soft but amused, scooting closer to join in. Her hand slides under the sheet too, her fingers brushing against Miyeon’s as they both stroke you now—Sana’s touch gentler, curious, Miyeon’s firmer, knowing exactly what she’s doing. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“Blame you two,” you mutter, your voice rough, still waking up, your hips twitching involuntarily as their hands work you over. “Fucking waking up like this—who wouldn’t be hard?”
Sana giggles, her fingers tightening slightly, her thumb brushing over the tip where you’re already leaking a little. “Fair point,” she says, then sits up, the sheet falling away completely, leaving her bare and glowing in the morning light. “Come on—let’s take care of that in the shower. You, me, and Miyeon. Sound good?”
Miyeon’s already rolling out of bed, her round ass bouncing as she stands, stretching with a groan that’s half-tired, half-horny. “Hell yeah,” she says, tossing her hair back, her eyes flicking to you with a smirk. “Let’s clean up—and get dirty again.”
You don’t need convincing. The three of you stumble to the bathroom, naked and laughing, the hardwood cold under your feet. The shower’s big enough for all of you—glass walls, a rainfall head that pours hot water the second you turn it on. Steam starts fogging up the space as you step in, Miyeon right behind you, Sana trailing with a shy grin. The water hits your skin, hot and perfect, and Miyeon’s already pressing herself against your back, her tits soft and slick against you, her hands sliding around to your cock again. “Turn around,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear, and you do, pinning her against the tiles, the water streaming down her face as you kiss her hard, all tongue and heat.
Sana’s watching, her fingers trailing down her own stomach as she steps closer, the water soaking her hair, making it stick to her shoulders. “Fuck her first,” she says, her voice low, a little daring, her eyes locked on where Miyeon’s hand is guiding you between her legs. You don’t hesitate—lifting Miyeon’s thigh, hooking it over your hip, and sliding into her in one smooth thrust. She’s still tight, still wet from last night, and she moans loud, her head tipping back against the glass, the sound echoing in the steam.
“Goddamn, you feel so good,” you groan, thrusting slow at first, watching the way her pussy takes you, the water making everything slicker, louder. Miyeon’s hands grip your shoulders, her nails biting in, and she’s grinning through the pleasure, loving it.
Sana steps in closer, her fingers brushing Miyeon’s clit as you fuck her, making Miyeon gasp sharper. “Your turn next,” you say, glancing at Sana, and she nods, biting her lip, her hand slipping lower to touch herself as she waits. You pull out of Miyeon after a few more thrusts, spinning Sana around, bending her over so her hands brace against the wall, her ass up and perfect. You slide into her from behind, her pussy tight and dripping, and she whimpers, the sound soft but needy as you start pounding into her, the water splashing around you both.
“Fuck—yes,” Sana moans, her voice shaking, her skinny frame rocking with every thrust, her head bowing as the pleasure hits. Miyeon’s right there, kissing her neck, her hands roaming over Sana’s wet skin, squeezing her tits, making it a messy, horny tangle of bodies under the spray. You fuck Sana hard, then switch back to Miyeon, trading off until you’re all panting, the shower a blur of steam, moans, and slick, wet skin. You finish fast—pulling out, stroking yourself as they kneel under the water, mouths open, catching every drop as you cum, their tongues flicking out to taste you, giggling through it like it’s a game.
After, you’re all dripping and laughing, toweling off in a haze of post-sex glow, the bathroom mirror fogged to hell. Sana’s the first out, wrapping a towel around herself and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make breakfast,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice chipper despite the wild morning. You and Miyeon follow slower, still naked, flopping onto the couch to catch your breath, her head lolling against your shoulder.
The smell of coffee and bacon fills the house soon, and when Sana calls you over, you find her in full domestic mode—hair tied back, still in just a towel, flipping pancakes like she’s auditioning for a cooking show. She’s good, too—golden, fluffy stacks piling up on a plate, bacon sizzling crisp on the side, scrambled eggs fluffy and perfect. You all sit around the small kitchen table, naked under loosely draped towels, digging in like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The pancakes are sweet, dripping with syrup, the bacon’s salty crunch a perfect balance, and the coffee’s strong, cutting through the morning fog. It’s quiet for a bit, just the clink of forks and the occasional hum of satisfaction, everyone still waking up, still processing the insanity of last night and this morning.
Miyeon’s the one to break the silence, grabbing her phone from the counter mid-bite, syrup glistening on her lips. “Oh, shit,” she says, scrolling quick, her eyes lighting up. “Road’s fixed—traffic’s moving again. Guess the landslide’s cleared.”
You take a sip of coffee, the mug warm in your hands, and nod, glancing between them. “Guess that’s my cue, huh? It was a pleasure meeting you girls. Really.”
They both freeze, forks halfway to their mouths, then look at each other—Sana’s brows shoot up, Miyeon’s lips twitch—and they burst out laughing, loud and sudden, like you’ve just said the dumbest thing imaginable. “What?” you say, caught off guard, setting the mug down. “What’s so funny?”
Miyeon leans forward, still chuckling, wiping a tear from her eye. “Dude, no way. After last night? And this morning? We’re not going anywhere.”
Sana nods, her grin wide and bright, pushing a piece of bacon around her plate. “Yeah, like—we had so much fun. Leaving now would be stupid. We wanna stay the week with you.”
You blink, stunned, the words sinking in slow. “Wait—for real? The whole week?”
“Uh-huh,” Miyeon says, leaning back in her chair, stretching so the towel slips a little, showing off the curve of her chest. “This place just got a million times better with you here. You’re a fucking gem, dude—we’re not letting that go.”
Sana’s still smiling, softer now, her eyes warm as she looks at you. “It’s already special, you know? Memorable as hell. And it’s only been, what, a day? Imagine the rest of the week.”
You laugh, shaking your head, still processing. “Shit, I mean—I’d love that. Didn’t expect you’d wanna stick around, but hell yeah, I’m in.”
“Good,” Miyeon says, pointing her fork at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re a great find—fun, chill, and you fuck like a goddamn champ. We like having you as a friend.”
Sana nods, popping a piece of pancake in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah, you’re open-minded—know how to roll with it, enjoy shit without being a dick about it. And you’re respectful, which is huge. I mean, last night was wild, and you never made it weird.”
You grin, leaning back, the warmth of the coffee and their words settling in your chest. “You two are fucking unreal—the coolest couple I’ve ever met, hands down. I’m stoked you crashed into my trip like this.”
Miyeon laughs, finishing her bacon with a satisfied crunch. “Settled then—no one’s leaving. This lake house just became our little sex-and-breakfast paradise, and you’re stuck with us.”
“Couldn’t ask for better company,” you say, raising your mug in a mock toast, and they clink their coffee cups against it, laughing through the syrup-sticky mess. The road’s open, sure, but fuck going anywhere—this week’s already gold, and it’s only just started.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Miyeon snapped, backing toward her bed as the door slammed shut behind the third man.
They didn’t answer right away—just stared. Three of them. Broad. Tall. Hungry.
“We knocked,” one of them said, voice low, already stepping in close. “You didn’t answer.”
“Get out.” Her voice shook. “You can’t just come in here—”
“We’re not leaving.”
The second grabbed her wrist. The third kicked the chair behind her out of the way. Miyeon yanked her arm back, but he caught her other one, and suddenly she was pinned between them—one gripping her from behind, the other tugging at her tank top, dragging the thin fabric up and off.
“Wait—stop—what are you—”
Her tits bounced free, soft and full, nipples already hard from adrenaline or something worse.
“Fucking perfect,” the first muttered, cupping one in his palm. “Mid-size and tight. Exactly how I imagined.”
She twisted, but the third man had already dropped to his knees in front of her, mouth hot on her breast, sucking deep while the other hand yanked her shorts down.
“Don’t—don’t touch me—”
“Then why are you this wet already?” the one behind her said, sliding two fingers between her thighs and groaning. “Dripping through your panties, Miyeon. Don’t fucking lie.”
She opened her mouth to argue—then gasped as his fingers sank inside her.
“Stop—oh fuck—”
He curled them hard, fingers slick and deep, rubbing right against her spot while the one kneeling took her nipple between his teeth.
“You’re soaking my hand,” the man behind her growled into her ear. “And you’re still trying to act innocent?”
“I didn’t ask for this,” she breathed, legs shaking. “I didn’t—ah—fuck—”
Her hips jerked. She clenched. They didn’t let her fall.
“You’re coming,” one of them smirked. “You came just from fingers. Look at you.”
“I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t mean to—”
The third was already unzipping his pants. “Then show us you’re sorry.”
He grabbed her chin, pushed his cock against her lips.
“No—wait—”
“Open your mouth, Miyeon.”
She hesitated. One slap across her ass. Another squeeze to her breast. Then—obedience.
She opened. He shoved in.
Her lips stretched. Her throat gagged. The other two watched her suck, her cheeks hollowing, spit sliding down her chin as she moaned around him.
“Fuck, that mouth was made for cock.”
“Hold her head. I’m next.”
“Fuck—fuck, stop touching me—” Miyeon gasped, spit trailing down her chin as they pulled her off the cock just long enough to breathe.
But none of them stopped.
One man had her legs spread wide on the edge of the bed, two fingers deep inside her again, knuckles slamming against her soaked cunt, thumb grinding hard over her clit. Another sucked her tit like he owned it, tongue flicking her nipple while his other hand pinched the other tight. The third stood over her, stroking his cock, waiting for her mouth to open again.
“Every time you say ‘stop,’” the one between her legs said, “your pussy grips tighter.”
“I—I can’t—” Her back arched. “It’s too much—”
“Then fucking break.”
He curled his fingers hard and fast. Her breath caught. Her legs kicked. Her thighs clenched.
And she came.
Screaming. Shaking. Thrashing under their grip as her orgasm ripped through her.
They didn’t let up.
“She’s still going,” one laughed, slapping her pussy lightly as she convulsed. “Fucking mess.”
“Can’t even think anymore, can you?” another said, pulling her up by the hair. “Mouth open.”
Her lips parted on instinct. The third shoved his cock back in, deeper this time. Her moan vibrated around the shaft, eyes rolling back.
The one at her tits leaned close, whispering, “You came from just our hands, slut. What do you think happens when we all fuck you?”
Miyeon didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her body was jelly, wrecked, leaking down her thighs.
But her mouth stayed open. Her legs stayed spread.
And her pussy was still twitching.
“Move,” one of them barked, grabbing Miyeon by the hips and yanking her up onto all fours like a ragdoll.
She barely had time to gasp before his cock was shoved against her slit, slick from her last orgasm and dripping down her thighs.
“Gonna show you two how it’s fucking done,” he muttered, lining up. “Watch this pussy lose it.”
“Again?” she whimpered, arms trembling. “I just—fuck—I just came—”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still dripping.”
He rammed in.
No warning. No slow build. Just cock slamming into soaked, swollen pussy, hips smacking against her ass as the other two stood beside the bed, stroking themselves, watching her bounce.
“Look at that ass take him,” one of them muttered.
“She’s already shaking,” the other said. “Damn, he’s gonna make her scream.”
Miyeon’s mouth fell open, drool dripping down her chin as he fucked her hard, rough, deliberate.
Every thrust punched a sound out of her—gasps, sobs, broken whimpers.
“Fuck—too deep—he’s too fucking deep—”
“Shut up,” he growled, grabbing a fistful of her hair. “Take it. Show them how pretty you sound when you cum like a filthy bitch.”
He changed angles, shifting her hips higher, one hand slapping her ass hard before digging his thumb into her asshole.
She screamed. Loud.
Her arms gave out. Her face hit the bed. But her ass stayed up—her pussy clenching again, even tighter.
“*Fuck—fuck—*I’m gonna—” she sobbed.
“Yeah, you are,” he grunted. “Come all over my dick in front of your little audience.”
And she did.
Loud. Violent. Soaking the sheets beneath her. Her pussy spasmed around him, juice splattering down his balls.
“Holy shit,” one of them muttered, cock in hand. “You broke her.”
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her mouth hung open, eyes glassy, hips twitching as he kept fucking her through it, slower now, just to feel her walls flutter.
“Two down,” he said, pulling out with a wet smack. “Who's next?”
“Up.”
Miyeon barely had time to blink before strong arms hoisted her off the sheets and dropped her into his lap.
She landed straddling him, face-to-face, her legs shaking, pussy still raw and soaked from two orgasms.
“No—fuck—please, I can’t—”
“You can,” he growled, lining his cock up and guiding her slit down over it. “You will.”
He shoved in.
Her back arched. Her mouth opened in a broken moan as his cock filled her again—deep, thick, stretching her hole wide all over.
“Now ride,” he ordered, grabbing her ass and slamming her hips down harder. “Let them watch you bounce.”
The two men standing beside the bed didn’t wait. One grabbed her wrist, slapped his cock into her palm. The other stepped in and pressed the head of his dick against her lips.
“You’re not gonna just sit there,” one of them muttered. “Open that pretty mouth.”
She whimpered—then obeyed.
Her lips wrapped around the first cock while her hand stroked the second. Her body jolted with each thrust from below, bouncing on the thick length driving up into her soaked pussy.
“Fuck—look at her,” the man beneath her growled. “Milking me while she sucks both of you.”
“Filthy fucking girl,” one of the others said, fucking into her mouth slow and deep. “She wants this.”
Miyeon couldn’t speak. Her body took over—hips grinding, mouth working, spit and pre-cum leaking from her chin. Her tits bounced against his chest, nipples grazed by his skin as she moaned around the cock sliding past her tongue.
“She’s shaking again,” one said.
“Gonna cum on his cock while she’s got a mouth full of mine,” the other added.
Her eyes rolled back. Her body seized.
And she broke.
A third orgasm tore through her, sudden and violent. Her pussy clamped down, soaking the man beneath her, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.
He held her down, grinding deep. “That’s it. Fucking drown me.”
She gasped, still licking and stroking the other two as her body spasmed.
All three cocks slick, all three men groaning.
“You don’t stop now,” one said, grabbing her jaw. “We’re just getting started.”
“Keep her legs up,” the man on top growled, gripping Miyeon’s thighs and folding them tight to her chest. “I want to hit the back of this sloppy hole.”
Then he slammed in.
Balls-deep. Fast. Brutal. Her whole body jolted with every thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the dorm walls.
“Too deep—fuck—” she gasped, fingers scrabbling for the sheets. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”
“You don’t need to,” he snarled. “Let go. Make a fucking mess.”
The man straddling her chest dragged his cock across her tits again, smearing pre-cum over her flushed skin. “Hold those tits up for me, baby.”
She obeyed with shaking hands, sandwiching his cock between her soft mounds.
Another slid his cock back into her open mouth, hissing through his teeth. “Tongue out. Show us how much you love being wrecked.”
Her lips wrapped tight around him, even as her eyes rolled back.
Her whole body twitched.
Then it hit.
Miyeon screamed around the cock in her mouth, back arching hard as her pussy clenched violently—then gushed.
A hot jet of clear fluid burst from her, spraying the man fucking her deep. His thighs, his stomach—soaked.
“Holy fuck,” he groaned, thrusting faster. “She fucking squirted on me.”
“Dripping down my balls,” he muttered, pounding harder, chasing his own orgasm. “She’s gushing like a faucet.”
Her hips bucked uncontrollably, body convulsing beneath him as the squirt kept coming.
“Fuck yes,” the one on her tits moaned, jacking his cock through the mess. “That’s what I wanted.”
The one in her mouth grabbed her head. “Swallow it, slut. Don’t spill a drop.”
Miyeon lay flat on her back, legs spread, thighs trembling, eyes half-lidded and glassy. Her chest heaved, flushed and slick with sweat, spit, and cum. She barely blinked when one of them moved between her legs again.
“She’s not even trying to talk anymore,” he muttered, stroking himself over her soaked pussy. “Just lying there… waiting.”
“She’s still clenching,” another said, fingers brushing her inner thigh. “Her body’s begging even if her mouth’s done.”
The first lined up, guiding his cock through the slick mess between her legs—his own and theirs—and shoved in.
Miyeon’s body jolted.
A breathy whimper escaped her lips, her arms twitching weakly at her sides.
“Still tight,” he groaned, grinding into her slow, deep, dragging every inch out before slamming back in. “Like she’s starved for cock.”
The others stood at the sides, watching her take him. One dragged his fingers through the cum leaking from her and rubbed it over her nipples. The other grabbed her chin and tapped his cock against her parted lips.
“Open again,” he said softly. “Don’t sleep yet.”
She blinked slowly and let him in. Her mouth took him on reflex—lips closing, tongue barely moving.
The man fucking her grunted, picked up speed. Her legs bounced with every thrust.
“She’s squeezing,” he muttered. “Every time I bottom out.”
He came hard, buried deep, not even bothering to warn her. Miyeon gasped, her belly twitching as another thick load filled her already-flooded cunt.
He pulled out slow, watching it drip.
“Next.”
The second man was already there, spreading her legs wider. “She’s still leaking. Still open.”
He slid in easily.
She twitched again—soft gasp, unfocused eyes.
He fucked her slower—grinding in, dragging against her overstimulated walls. His hands pressed her knees down, folding her further, fucking her like she belonged to him.
“Gone,” he murmured. “Completely fucked out.”
He came deep again, groaning through his teeth as her pussy fluttered around him.
When he pulled out, the third took his place without a word.
Miyeon didn’t react—just lay there, legs limp, mouth slightly open, cunt dripping.
The last man slid into her used hole, slow and steady. She moaned—soft, broken.
And still took him.
The last man didn’t rush. He kept fucking her slow, deep strokes, watching Miyeon’s wrecked body tremble beneath him. Her legs hung open limply, thighs smeared with cum, eyes half-shut and unfocused.
“You still twitching for me, baby?” he muttered, thrusting in to the hilt. “Still holding on?”
She didn’t answer. Just a weak moan. Her hips lifted barely an inch, enough to let him sink deeper.
“Good girl.”
He leaned in, kissed her sweat-slick neck, and came inside her—thick, hot, slow spurts that pushed her further open, mixing with the others already leaking from her cunt.
He stayed in for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall, her lips parted. Then he pulled out.
A thick trail followed.
“Fuck, look at this mess,” one of them muttered, stepping closer with his phone out.
He snapped a photo—Miyeon spread wide, cum dripping from her hole, tits marked with spit and handprints, eyes barely able to stay open.
“Get the mouth too,” another said, lifting her chin and tapping his cock against her lips one last time. “She sucked like a whore. Gotta remember that.”
Click.
Flash.
Another angle. Cum on her thighs. Her ruined panties still bunched at one ankle.
“Fuck,” the last man said, zipping up. “She’s gonna feel this for days.”
They stood over her, all three silent now. Satisfied.
Miyeon blinked once. Breath shallow. Her body didn’t move.
“Let her sleep.”
The door clicked open.
They walked out.
And left her there—flooded, used, and still twitching.
Word Count: 18k+
Special thanks to @defmaybe for helping to draw out the best version of this fic.
(All the details? Really? Oh wow. Okay…)
(I’m gonna dissociate myself from this so… “you” is gonna appear a lot. Don’t sweat it cupcake—you’re not actually the one in this mess.
It’s just a bad habit of mine, that’s all.)
--
(You’re lucky. You get the sweet start to it all. For what it’s worth: sweetness is a fucking deceiving concept when you have rose-tinted lenses.)
“You know: out of all the men I’ve dated, you cook the best.”
You raise an eyebrow as you flip the grilled cheese in your skillet. Frankly, there’s nothing to be impressed about over grilled cheese and tomato soup. Cheese sandwiched between two evenly buttered slices of bread, grilled till golden brown and served with a side of hot tomato juice in a bowl. Literally everything has been prepared for you and packed neatly into some package in a grocery store. All you did was heat it up and add a few of your own ingredients.
“Is that a compliment or a flex?” you ask, turning your gaze away from your skillet momentarily to look at Miyeon as she replies. Her face isn’t gonna add value to her answer, but you just like looking at her. She is hot after all.
She scoffs and takes a sip of her coffee. “Jeez… Can’t a woman compliment her boyfriend in peace?”
You’ve had this conversation before, but you like to entertain her.
“This woman can’t,” you tell her, making sure she can see the smirk on your face as you turn back to the sandwich. You wave your spatula in the air as you speak, almost like you’re referring to PowerPoint slides. “She’s too weird about everything. Never take her seriously.”
“Oh, so we’re just gonna call me weird and neglect the fact you keep your butter in that?” she exclaims, pointing at the butter bell on top of your fridge. It was a Christmas gift from your mom last year, and even though you did think it was weird at first, you have not gone back to keeping your butter in blocks.
“You keep my fucking butter bell out of this,” you warn, and it’s half joking and half serious.
(No one fucks with your butter bell.)
Miyeon chortles. You don’t need to look at her to know that she’s raising her hands in the air when she says, “jeez man. Didn’t know you guys were tight like that…”
And it’s stupid exchanges like this that make you appreciate her company by bounds. It’s lonely in the apartment when she’s out being famous; really nice to have her around for the holidays, albeit for a short time. It’s been a while since she’s been back. There’s much to catch up on over an 11 am brunch. You don’t know why she’s up so damn early today, cause normally you guys sleep till the late afternoon, then go figure out what to eat for dinner before lazing around in the apartment.
So with cheese falling from the corner of her lip, she gives you the latest developments in her life. Then it’s your turn, and you're glad to say that nothing’s really of interest in either of your updates. That’s usually for the better: sometimes the news you give each other can be a little heart-attack-inducing, so it’s better that your lives are pretty bland.
“You know,” she says as she wipes her mouth. “I might just keep dating you for your food,” she tosses her tissue onto the dining table and lets out a sigh. “Fucking delicious.”
You scoff and sip on your coffee. “Bet you told that to all the guys,” you reply wryly. “Probably gets them real excited, huh?”
She grins. It’s cheeky, mischievous, maybe even a little naughty. “Not telling.”
“You don’t tell me a lot of things,” you chuckle, and you’re low-key unsurprised to hear a little bit of unintended bitterness in your voice. “Not that it matters or anything… I just value communication.”
Oh, you’re petty. So fucking petty that it makes your skin crawl a little.
Miyeon’s unfazed.
“Don’t get your tits in a tussle, pretty boy,” she muses. She folds her arms and leans into the table. “You’ll know more when I trust you more. For now: I’ll give you information as I please.”
And you kick yourself because you forget she can be a bit of a handful herself.
“Ugh, what will I ever do with this mysterious woman?” you smirk, resting your elbow against the table as you lean in as well. To be perfectly clear: you’re not mad at her. Her secrecy just bugs you out a little, and she knows it. “Such little knowledge on such a hardened beauty… must be tough to really crack her open and figure her out.”
You love her eyes, and you love to make them roll (in multiple contexts). They kinda gleam as she tilts her head. “Fine… I’ll give you something since you’re so damn desperate,” she drums her fingers against her cheek while her chin nestles itself into her palm. “What I’m about to give you is gonna change your life in so many ways. It’ll probably redefine your whole damn existence.”
You express your interest by leaning in a little more. Miyeon checks her six—like she isn’t in the comfort of her own home—before leaning in. She’s all clandestine. You have no idea what for.
“You ready?” she checks. And you know she isn’t expecting an answer, but you nod nonetheless. She checks her left and right for good measure. You never know: maybe your lamp is listening.
“I’m aching for cock right now.”
And you guys don’t even make it to the couch.
It’s on the floor next to your table where she has your face in her hands, and she’s kissing you aggressively. She’s properly kissing you, and it makes you knock the back of your head against the floor a little, but it’s really not too big of a deal.
She lifts her lips off yours and smirks. “For the record: it’s your fault that we aren’t fucking on the couch.”
“Yeah, and I actually paid rent early for once,” you shoot back sarcastically. “And would you mind helping me clean the yacht I most definitely own on my luxurious salary? Thanks a bunch, honey.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. She knows you’re full of shit, but she’s full of the same shit as you. Form a shit pile or something, maybe even a shit mountain if you feel like it. You could really go on for a while about how you two can talk for hours, but that’s not the main event.
The real deal comes when she has her hand beneath the waistband of your pants, slithering down to the very thing she aches for. She has that smile on her face, the one that kinda says “Oh I’m gonna love this” or “you’re gonna love this” or maybe even both. There are ways to distinguish the messages by looking at her eyes, but you’re a little too lazy to go figure it out right now. And before someone calls you a bum, you can’t help it: she has her hand on your cock and a piercing gaze trained on you. How about you try and focus on discerning implicit messages when there's a hot woman touching you in the right places?
“How are you hard already?” she asks, a hint of a giggle in her tone as she presses your shaft against your body. There’s barely any space down there, yet she makes it work so easily. “I didn’t even, like, do anything yet.”
“Well,” you hum, just as she starts to squeeze your member, appling that toe-curling pressure to your tip and smiling as you strain a little. “I can kinda see your tits through your shirt.”
Miyeon raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t even look at her shirt. “Oh?” and she starts to pump. “I didn’t notice that…”
“Totally,” you grunt. “Like how you don’t notice that your shorts are barely shorts?” you continue, but there’s something more bugging you. “And at least pull my pants down if you’re gonna jack me off, would you?”
Miyeon snorts, but compiles nonetheless. She gets your pants and boxers off with ease. It’s one swift motion (it’s practiced grace really), and she gets back to the task at hand before she was so rudely interrupted.
“What does seeing my tits have anything to do with you?” Her motions are languid and fluid, steady and flowing like a stream. She doesn’t need to look. She doesn't need to guess. She knows you like the back of her hand. “Does it turn you on? Excite you?”
You have it in you to roll your eyes before they shut. “Stop asking these fucking ridiculous questions.”
“It's a basic inquiry.” She laughs in this aloof tone that you know is paired with the most devious of smiles. “So you won’t let me compliment you and you won’t let me ask questions? Tsk. Chivalry is dead.”
Miyeon goes a little faster, adds a twist of her wrist. This is just her hand, mind you, and it’s already ruining you in a way that only she is capable of. The tender touch of Cho Miyeon is something no woman you’ve met could ever replicate, and it takes you to places that you can only visit with her. Those fingers are magic, that mouth is magic—hell, everything about her is magic.
“Please,” you manage to quip past the jolts of magic being sent through your system. “We both know that you have the answers to all the questions you just asked.”
She giggles—playfully, you might add. This is all a part of the game you play with her; this is the way Miyeon’s cookie crumbles. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Who cares?”
You care: not a lot, but enough to make this as humorous as you want it to be. You kinda only give two shits because it lets you be kinda petty with her, but not that you externalise it or anything. You just have it pent up in you for the fun of it.
“Anyway,” she muses, halting the strokes of her hand to your cock. “Have I told you about how much I wanted you to fill me while I was filming?”
You take a moment to breathe. “No… But do tell.”
And gets to that, but not before ridding herself of her shirt first. By technicality, it’s your shirt, but it shrunk in the dryer at some point, so it just became hers. She gets into the details, the nitty gritty; tells you exactly what she’s imagining during the filming of her Music Video all while you kind just sit there and ogle at her chest. She takes her time, covers the stuff that you don’t really need to know but it’s kinda hot to know — things like “ugh, I needed you to bend me over the hood of that car and just fuck me at that point…” — because you admittedly get off knowing that she ever thinks about you that way and… God, you’re rambling aren’t you? Still pretty fitting though: it’s the way Miyeon talks when she’s thinking nonsense.
“Ugh. Now I’m wet,” she mutters. She speaks as if it’s your fault that she went on rambling about her fantasies with you. “You know you make me like, really horny right?”
“Oh no… Whatever will I do?” you’re really just rolling with it. Not because you want to, but because you want to get this bit where you tease each other over and done with. It’s kinda like marinating meat in the way it makes the sex a little hotter. Truthfully: you’re aching for her. Really: you want nothing more than to just get her pinned beneath you and writhing on your wooden floor.
And frankly? You could do all of that right now.
So it’s with a bit of grace (and some dexterity) that you flip the positions: now you’re kneeling over her while she is the one that lies on the floor, if that makes any sense. Miyeon isn’t shocked by your sudden movements, more so delighted by the fact that you finally gave in to your carnal urges and just went for it. She smiles, knowing full well that she’s done something that's gonna give her that fuel she needs for the week. You know: sex that’s the opposite of soft; some shit that fulfills some wild thoughts.
“Gotta say, you’re quicker than usual,” she has that cocky smirk on her face. You wanna wipe it right off her face, and you know just how. “Normally you’re all talk, no– Oh…”
You like that it really only takes a finger pressed against her panties to shut her up. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make her shut her eyes and shut up for a moment. The spot you press on is damp, soaked in that sweet slick. Gently, you trace the outline of those swollen folds. “You were saying?”
She has it in her to laugh—a breathy chortle. “Fuck you.”
“I’m working on that,” you fire back. Your cock twitches a little when you see her jolt in response to your touch. Your finger pressed down on that one spot that makes her weak, and it really works wonders: an airy gasp slips past those thin, luscious lips. The number of times you’ve kissed those lips swollen is not a number countable with 10 fingers.
Miyeon sighs, and it’s a mix of pleasure and frustration in her breath that humors you. She relaxes into the floorboards, her hips rock, her cunt rubs against your fingers. She's searching for some friction — sweet release in lewd movements. You let her move for a bit, watch her shake like the bough of a willow tree as she pleases herself against your fingers.
“Enjoying yourself?” you quip.
“Yeah..” she hums. “Passing time while you’re still not taking these shorts off me.”
Of course… How could you be so forgetful?
You stop for a moment to help her wriggle out of her clothing. It isn’t one of her most graceful moments, but it quickly passes. The shorts join your pants on the floor. Her panties are pink — not that subtle shade of pink or even like a darker version of pink. It’s Barbie fucking Pink.
“So we’re feeling loud today, huh?” you ask, letting your finger trail the lacy parts of the fabric. Miyeon smiles.
“Sana gave them to me,” she explains, not the least bit sheepish that her damp spot is visibly darker than the rest of her underwear. “Hope this doesn’t affect you in your work or anything…”
You feel the corner of your lip turn up. “No, no… Of course not,” you assure her, all while you let your hand slip between the fabric and her skin. You can feel her shudder, then you feel the heat of her cunt at the tip of your fingers. “You caught me on the right day actually… Pink’s in my rotation of favourite colours this fine morning.”
“Right,” her voice has a lilt. It’s shuddering a little too. “I knew that… Definitely had that in mind.”
You laugh. Your index fingers slip between her folds. She moans.
You lower yourself, capture a swollen, taut nipple in your mouth. The sweet suction you deliver makes her gasp. Her hand finds itself in your head.
It’s all quite rhythmical, almost like a routine for the two of you. The way your bodies react to each other feels so natural that you think it might just be second nature at this point. You know her body: you’ve memorised the dips and curves and tender spots; the hot spots, the warm parts and the best parts. She knows you—the way you think, the way you talk; the way you play with her and the things you want to do with her. It would be safe to say that you guys practically have PhDs in the subject of each other, but that’s not a fair statement because you’re both a little more complicated than you let on. That keeps the sex exciting; it makes you crave each other a little more than last time.
“One or two?” you whisper, letting your finger dip in and out of her lips and getting it all wet in her slickness. She takes a moment to think, or maybe she’s taking a moment to really soak in the teasing. Either way: she takes some time to reply.
“Two,” she shifts herself a little lower, her clit pressing into the base of your middle finger. It makes her sigh — a low, kinda sonorous escape of air through her lips. “I hope you trimmed your nails this time.”
“That last time was a minor mishap,” you admit. You kinda want to pull your hands out to double-check, but you’re too mired in the moment to assuage your worries. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all under control.”
She beams like the damn sun. “Good. I like it when you’ve got the reins.”
And that makes you suck in some air through your teeth.
(God, does she know how to try you on.)
Your digits push themselves inside of her. They’re wrapped in her tight warmth, snug as a bug in a rug or whatever. You love the way her abs kinda flex as your fingers introduce themselves to her insides. It makes the best parts of her pop. Her chest rises a little more than the last time, her breaths becoming a little longer and more drawn out as your fingers explore her like always. The way she jolts when you get to that one spot at the roof of her pussy tells you that she has been primed and ready for this moment, loaded up like a shotgun and the trigger is really just any part of you that makes her cum. It could be your fingers, your tongue, your dick, your thigh—any part of you that can get her to that sweet high. Of course: you’re more than happy to assist. And so your mouth latches itself back onto her breast, tongue licking and swishing and flicking the swollen nipple atop her small yet generously sized breast. You relish the way it feels in your hand as you cup it—not too firmly and not too gently—and give it a squeeze, enjoying how the flesh spills out a little between your fingers but still fits in the palm of your hand.
“How do you only get better at this?” she hisses through her teeth. “I mean, I just saw you last week but… Oh god…”
You remove her nipple from your mouth. “Art is honed. This is art.”
She laughs, then throws her head back to let out a moan. “Well I’ll be damned,” her eyes close as she speaks, resting themselves for a bit so that she can enjoy the feel of your fingers in the best part of her slick. “Paint me like one of your French girls then.”
And you kinda have to kiss her after that. It’s a good line… and she’s, like, smoking hot right now.
You can’t track the exact moments where she starts to blue screen on you, but you can guess it's somewhere between you pinching her nipple and when you slide a third finger into her. The pressure, the stretching—it’s, like, everything she wants as of right now. She lets out this choked-up cry that you like to hear, the supple curve of her back growing more defined as she arches just a little more. She doesn't hold back, she never does. When you’re making her feel good, you can bet some good money that she’ll let you know. She’ll find her own way to express herself, be it through sound or action or words—sometimes a combination of all three.
The way she feels around your fingers—delicate squeezing and sweet pressure around your digits as they stretch her to new lengths—is nothing short of enthralling. You can feel her pulse around you, the dull throb of her heartbeat as it beats for the sole purpose of getting all that blood rushing into the right areas. Your hand is kinda messy, fingers coated down to your knuckles in the sweet substance from her heat. Miyeon starts to writhe, squirm. A whine leaves her mouth. It’s followed by another, and another, and another—keeps going till the whiny stream ends with a guttural moan.
Her legs close around your wrist. Her throat bobs.
“Mmph… baby…” her hand flails a bit as she tries to search for you. She catches your shoulder and her nails dig in. “Your mouth… I want your mouth on me.”
You always loved how forthcoming she is.
“Miyeon…” you drawl, and this next bit is really just for the fun of it. “What’s the magic word?”
She laughs softly through the pleasure, lets a smile grace your eyes. She doesn’t fight it; she wants it—wants you. She just wants you in any shape or form. Any version of you will do; she’ll take all the different sides of you in a heartbeat. All she needs is you. “Please.”
You’ve never found so much delight in hearing that word. Kinda makes you want to hear it again.
“I can’t hear you,” your thumb presses down onto her clit. Her thighs start to twitch.
“Please!” she yells that magic word in the form of a shout this time. Your cheeks hurt from how widely you’re beaming.
You retract your fingers. They come up to your mouth so you can taste her off of them. She’s nothing short of delicious, and you can kinda tell that she knows it because she’s smirking as she watches you clean off yourself.
“How are we feeling about the samples?” she has that proud gleam in her eye. “Pineapple’s been in my diet as of late… Just wondering if anything’s different.”
You smack your lips. “Picking up on a little tang here… Can’t be sure though.”
Her hands slide down to her hips, thumbs hooking into the band of her panties and pulling them down her thighs. “No worries. There’s more where it came from.”
The gall of this girl is insane, you’re thinking, smirking as you assist the journey of her underwear down her slim, milky legs. Like all your other clothing, it’s tossed aside.
Miyeon spreads thighs, bends her knees so that her feet are flat on the floor. You get in position, let your palms slide down her body with careful consideration: run your hands over the sensitive parts of the stomach, skim that one portion of her inner thigh that makes her shiver. She watches—waiting and anticipating while failing to keep her excitement off her face.
She is glistening, swollen and plump to your eyes, kinda far ahead considering that you just used your fingers. She’s eager, unashamed and more proud than embarrassed about her arousal. Her legs shift a bit. She looks at you, a fingernail between her teeth as she exhales sharply when your thumb traces the outline of her pussy, careful in its endeavor as you feel the muscles around her slick tense up in response. Oh she’s so damn impatient right now, but she lets you get away with all of this because it gets her off a little harder; the teasing is just part of the show and the climax will probably follow pretty soon, fast and hard
“You’ve been looking forward to this, huh?” you remark, watching as her eyelids flutter when you put a little pressure with the pad of your thumb.
“Mhm…” she replies. It’s a low hum, one that resonates in her throat rather pleasantly. “You have no idea…”
You laugh. Your eyes roll towards the ceiling then set themselves back on her. “Please… We both know I have some idea,” you stop your thumb on her clit, and you begin to draw small circles around it. “You did tell me” —and you have to pause for a bit to use your other hand to press down on her pelvic area, stopping her from jolting her hips up to get that sweet sensation of your thumb rubbing her swollen nub. She whines a little, a soft plea following suit— “about all the things you wanted to do with me.”
She desperately tries to shift herself, press herself a little more against you. The smooth wooden floor hinders her, the lack of friction failing to aid her. Her brows furrow. She’s frustrated. “Yeah, well, if you know what I want so much, why aren’t you fucking getting to it?”
You wink. “Relax. I’m just letting the meat tenderise.”
“Oh shut it you fucking— Mmmph!”
And the way you part her with your tongue, it’s like she’s butter and you’re a hot knife slicing her open. You're slow with it, and you don’t stop when Miyeon’s thigh stiffens against your palm, or when she squirms a little and almost got your tongue derailed from its track. You know what makes her tick, what makes her hit the octave and gets her nice and messy for you. If anything gets Miyeon going more than actually fucking—it’s definitely gotta be when you get your tongue on her folds.
“You’re never gonna let me finish my sentences, are you?” she laughs breathily. You watch her abdomen as it rises and falls together with the quick breaths she takes.
“Dunno…” you nuzzle your face in her folds for a little, giving her time to say whatever she wants for a bit. “You did say that chivalry is dead.”
From your bottom up view of her, you can tell that she just rolled her eyes. “No comment. You won’t let my finish it any— oh my fucking god.”
Now it’s the flat of your tongue against her clit that stops her dead in her tracks. Her juices have begun to lather your tongue in their addictive taste, drawing you into her just a little more with each lap of your tongue. You suck on one of her folds, then your tongue is inside her, and she moans, her hand finding a spot on the back of your head that she can grip on to. She calls you crazy, calls you baby, runs her fingers through your hair. Your tongue dips in, circles, laps; your nose brushes against all the right spots of her skin and it draws out these almost sob-like, quiet sounds from her chest and she’s… Fuck, she’s amazing.
“I might take a while,” she whispers to you. You call malarkey, but play along nonetheless.
“Fuck yes,” your tongue swipes the entirety of her in a long, broad stroke. “Please, by all means princess. Take your time,” you don’t think you could ever sound as enthusiastic as you did right now. She pushes you down a little harder onto her slit, and you delight in how she squirms when you push your tongue a little deeper between her folds.
Her nails start to dig into your scalp a bit, and she starts pushing you down onto her cunt a little more.
“You know,” she speaks with this half-whisper-half-gasp, the type of tone that tells you that she’s fighting to stay in control of her own body. “I— mmph… Sometimes I lock myself in the changing room and just get off to the thought of you eating me.”
You suck on the other fold that you neglected earlier. “Oh yeah?” and you get a finger inside of her. She cries out, abdomen flexing deliciously as she turns pliant under the pressure of your finger getting a hold of that sweet spot. You can feel the heat—it feels like your skin is gonna melt. “Bet you get off real hard to it, maybe even harder than you will in like, two minutes.”
“Two?” she tries to sound a little defiant, but her voice is cracking and it’s really not working out in her favour. Your finger is barely pushing up by the way, yet it seems like she’s got thousands of pascals of pleasure weighing down on every part of her being. “Don’t put yourself on a fucking pedestal… I am nowhere close.”
You hum in reply, saving your energy to suck on her clit. And it’s almost like she’s spring-loaded in the way her thighs clamp around your ears immediately after. Her fingers eat into your scalp, a light, searing pain growing across your head as you kiss her right fold, then her left. You can tell that there’s liquid burning heat running through her body, spilling all over her. Miyeon tries to hold on, tries to prolong this for a little more by getting her nails deep in your scalp. But she’s falling apart, coming undone with each second.
“Baby.”
“One minute left,” you put your lips back around her clit. Her head thumps against the floorboards.
“I—can’t.”
“Ugh. Hate it when you lie.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Just fucking cum.”
And she ruins herself. She loses sense of the world for a bit—convulsing and twitching on the floor while you continue to lick her. No cry leaves her mouth; a strained, choked up phonic gets caught in her throat and refuses to dislodge. Her back arches, her thighs flex. Her world fades for a bit.
Give or take: she takes a minute or so. When she gasps for air, you know she’s come back down to earth. You welcome her with a kiss to her abdomen as you rise up. Her cheeks are rubicund—flushed and making her glow as she smiles at you. She softly captures your cheeks in her hands.
“Okay,” she huffs, taking deep breaths as she strokes your face with her thumb. “Out of all the men I’ve dated: you can cook and eat the best.”
“Twenty dollars says that you’ve said that to at least four guys,” you muse. “Maybe five if I’m generous.”
She closes her eyes for a moment. Inhales. Exhales.
“Hand on my heart,” she uses one hand to push some hair out of her face. “I’ve only said this to you.”
Ignorance is bliss. Believing her is a sort of ignorance.
You willfully let yourself be blissful because you can.
--
(Then fast forward a little. Maybe like, three hours? Or however long it takes for you to have a nap and a shower to get ready to go out.)
“Are you seriously going out in that?”
And you have to stop at the door. You know that tone all too well.
“What is it this time?” you grumble, turning around to face the bed so that she can get a full biopsy of your outfit. It isn’t a bad outfit in your honest opinion, and you’re no stranger to horrible (unintentional) attempts at making fashion statements. Colour-blindness is a hereditary curse; it’s not your fault that you can’t tell that this shade of blue doesn’t work with that shade of grey and whatnot. “I swear I wore this a week ago and you said nothing.”
Miyeon slips out from under the covers. In your T-shirt, she saunters with purpose and urgency as she makes her way over. She stops in front of you and takes your tie into her hands. “It’s either you lose this tie or do something else to this already god-forsaken outfit.”
You consider the options for a hot minute. You’re kinda proud of this outfit—it took a lot of time and vetting through Miyeon to get it planned out and everything. The tie was kind of a staple piece—as important as the shirt or trousers. To hear that (in essence) you looked like shit admittedly dealt a blow to your ego, but why be petty when you can be cavalier?
“Whatever,” you reply, making no effort to stop her from trailing a nail up your shirt. “I couldn’t really care less about how this woman perceives me tonight. Not even into her anyway.”
Miyeon chuckles. The finger on your chest wraps itself around the top of your tie. “That’s an option as well,” she adjusts the knot, though it doesn’t look like she’s doing it to make you look better. “But can I give you one more alternative?”
“By all means, princess.”
She tugs on your tie, pulls you close. Your lips are just centimetres away from hers. You get a whiff of her scent. She’s using the shampoo you bought her.
“Stay home,” she makes sure that her voice is kinda breathy, tickles your face as she lets the phonics dissipate into warm air. “Skip the date. You have a smoking hot girlfriend to fuck anyway.”
Oh and it takes you just about everything to stop you from grabbing her by the face and just kissing her. It's so easy: reach forward, get her face (or waist) in your hands and just smash her lips against yours. You know she’s thinking the same thing; but she’s waiting on you, anticipating what you’re going to do next. It’s a sick little game the two of you play, but it’s fun as hell and really doesn’t get boring in the near future.
“You know what my mom would say…” you begin, and you know she’s gonna stop you.
“Say you're sick”—bingo motherfuckers. She owes you five bucks—“tell her that you got the cold and so you can’t show up.”
“Expended on that one… And the work emergency one too,” you regretfully inform her. “And no: I will not be telling them that we’re actually a thing—“
“Cause you want to protect me and blah blah…” she interjects yet again, her fingers moving up and down, closing against her thumb in mimicry of a mouth moving. It’s petty, kinda frustrating—but it’s Miyeon. She’s a handful to deal with at times, but at least she’s your handful to deal with. “Been running the same jig for a little too long, tiger. I know your game.”
“I know,” you admit. “I’m a one-trick Pony and my carrot is you. What’s new?”
She chortles at that, and you take that moment to really get a good look at her because by god is she beautiful. Head-turner, eye-widener, heart-racer — not to be a bore, but again: it’s Miyeon. There’s a lot more about her that you could synthesize into words, but you won’t (not because you don’t want to or anything; but it’s more about the fact that you probably don’t have enough time to get someone to understand her.)
Cause here’s the thing (about her, you and both of you): she’s just as human as anyone, and that means she’s just about as complicated as anyone. You’ve got a story, she’s got her’s, and the two cross somewhere to form a midpoint before they start running parallel to each other before meeting again and running together and… You get it, don’t you?
No? Fuck.
Okay. She may or may not be able to hold down a relationship; and you may or may not have been able to secure a relationship. You kinda get drunk with her over this revelation one night and you may or may not have joked over the fact that maybe you should get together. And then you may or may not have had the hottest sex you’ve had in years before you may or may not have realised that she’s the best thing to happen to you. It’s all kinda hypothetical to you cause you’re still processing the fact that this is all real. Still wondering if it’s a fling cause it’s only been about 3 months since this started.
(Calm down cupcake, no one likes a party pooper who prods on details in the midst of a story. It’s just… Ugh. The story behind how the two of you know each other is so boring and complicated—full of unnecessary exposition like this whole bit really. It hurts to retell it, so here’s a summary: she used to date your roommate, roommate moved out after they broke up, she stayed and hanged around you, here you are now. Fuck the details, there’s no room for it really. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.)
“Save the charisma,” she tells you, really putting on some breath behind her words. “I prefer it when you use it in bed.”
And you kinda have to kiss her after that. It’s a good line… and she’s, like, smoking hot right now.
The kiss kinda blurs the line between passionate and sweet (if there even was a line to begin with). It’s quite aggressive, a little tender but also a wee bit emotional. It makes you a little bitter, but don’t get it twisted: you love this girl with all your heart and you’d do anything to stay with her. It’s just that you’d love—more than anything—to lose the shirt and pants you’re wearing to make out with her, and then let things flow as they do. Unfortunately, your parents really want you to meet this girl, and you have to get going or you’ll probably get cut from the will or something.
She tries again. “Stay…”
“Miyeon—”
“I fucking need you… Please.”
It’s just so fucking tempting…. But there are only so many lines you can cross before you find yourself in trouble with border patrol. And if there's anything you hate more than lectures, it’s lectures from your mother.
Her lips graze yours, hovering just millimeters away. She wants to kiss you—bite your lower lip and pull you into an undoubtedly sloppy lip lock. That will end with your hand somewhere on her body that gets the ball rolling (and we all know where that ball goes). She has it in her to do it; she has the right, the means and the fucking autonomy (and audacity). She’s just waiting on you, seeing what happens when she plants the seed of an idea in your head and waters it a little.
Unfortunately for her, you’re too damn terrified of your parents to let that seed grow.
“I‘ll see you later,” you whisper, albeit a little reluctantly. “Call me if anything comes up.”
She understands that she’s lost. Doesn’t stop her from giving you that kiss though. “Don’t keep me waiting tonight… I love you.”
Ugh. She’s one hell of a woman, isn’t she?
--
So get this: this woman that your mother found for you is possibly the most boring person you’ll ever meet. She’s beautiful and all, but she has the personality that has just about the same amount of flavour as food in the west before spices.
She spends the meal talking about her job, and you kinda just fix her with a hundred yard stare and tune out. You couldn’t give a shit about computer security really—never was and never will be into that shit. It doesn’t help that your phone is kinda blowing up at the moment. It’s buzzing all over your thigh in your pocket. Pretty trippy, kinda makes you wonder if Miyeon had just slipped one of her vibrators into your pocket.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom at some point. You’re not sure how long she’s been yapping your ear off for, but it kinda doesn’t matter. All you’ve gotten from this meal is really just a handful of nonsense and a migraine.
Anyway: it’s in the confines of the bathroom store that you check on the ruckus in your pocket. The screen lights up and you find that the spasming of your phone was caused by a combination of posts from a news outlet and from Miyeon. She takes precedence over the news.
Miyeon//8:01 pm: I swear to you I have no idea what’s going on
Miyeon//8:01 pm: I’m getting this at the same time as you
Miyeon//8:02 pm: I don’t know what’s happening. Please come home.
And the way you open your news app almost instantly makes you feel like you’re all too familiar with this. It’s not a headline, but it might as well be from the way it makes your eyes widen and your breath stop for a second.
You blink. You blink again.
The words don’t change.
Suddenly, you have a valid reason to get out of this dinner.
(How you get home is a little fuzzy, but that’s not really the important part.
What? The headline? Oh you know it, don’t you cupcake? It was literally the only thing on people’s minds for some reason, as if an idol dating an actor is something unheard of.)
“What the fuck?” you ask when you step through your apartment door.
She sighs as you remove your coat and hang it behind your door. “Look… I’m just as confused as you are—”
“An actor?” you interject. You’ll admit that it’s a little rude, but you’re really just trying to make sense of this as fast as possible. “How long have you known this guy?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t,” she huffs. “I swear to you, hand on my heart and the other on the bible, I am not in love with that man.” She says. “I barely even know the fucker, never talked to him in my life.”
It’s a little hard to look at her right now. You have lots of things to say; lots of feelings and lots of thoughts. If you’re really gonna be honest with yourself: you’re scared, hurt and a little confused. Miyeon’s good at lying—a little too good for your liking. Pair that knowledge with your insecurities, and congrats: you’ve just given birth to multiple insecurities. They’re like little demons running amok in your chest. It’s suddenly hard to breathe.
You can’t do this with her now. Not when all this is all so fresh and new.
But she catches your arm as you try to walk past her. Her grip is firm, pleading.
“Please,” she utters, letting her hand slide down your arm to let her fingers wrap around your hand. “Trust me on this.”
You want to. You really want to. And so it hurts you to ask, “Am I just another fling?”
You can see it in her eyes when she realises the motivation behind the question. She doesn’t take long to come to the epiphany—just a little less than a second before her eyes soften and her lips part a little. Her expression scares you. You want to run from this all together and leave it to another day, but God knows that you won’t be getting any sleep with this weight in your head. It’s comical, almost hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that it’s your relationship with her on the line.
You like to think that she can’t express her answer into words, so she kisses you instead. You’ll never know why she chose to kiss you, but it's sweet and so powerful that you can kinda live with that gap in your knowledge. You may or may not have teared a little, and you may or may not have melted into her lips a little too quickly. What you can say for certain: when you find yourself back in those eyes, panting with your face between her hands—the words ‘I love you’ escape your mouth faster than you can think. You don’t say it for the sake of it; you say it cause you mean it. You want her to know that you’ll fight for this relationship, that you’ll fight for her.
And it makes her smile.
“I’m like, in love with your goofy ass,” she mutters, thumb tracing a path along your cheek. “So don’t you ever think that I’d drop you for some slick-back fuck face.”
That’s more than enough for you. Her smile is contagious as you hold her waist. “Crude. I love you, Miyeon.”
“Yeah. I heard you the first tim—”
Of course: you don’t wait for a finished reply to kiss her. It’s a practice, almost a common tongue at this point.
Miyeon lets her hands fall, gets her arms around your neck while you reacquaint your lips with hers. She’s lovely, fucking divine and maybe even a little addictive—straight up dangerous if you’re to sum it up. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being manipulated, and it’s really only for a second because she’s got her teeth in your bottom lip and she’s dragging them towards her. She wants more—more of you and less of this need to prove her love. She touches your chest, palm flat against your flesh as she deepens the kiss. Ignorance is bliss. Believing her is a sort of ignorance. Kissing her deepens that ignorance, makes you all the more blissful.
“I need you,” you breathe, unashamed by your blatant desire to have her right now. Really: you can’t get enough of her smell right now. “Please Miyeon… Let me be the only one.”
She smiles softly. She runs her fingers through your hair. “Baby, you already are.”
You press your forehead against hers. “I know. But can we just…”
You can’t really verbalise what you want out of this. You want Miyeon, but you don’t just want the idea and concept of her. You long for that connection with her, that union and that closure, not just some fleeting, superficial feelings. This woman is quite literally one of your dreams. It’s selfish to say this, but you want that security—something tangible to know that you’re really hers and she’s really yours, a piece of her that you can hold on to that helps rid your heart of those little demons. You hope she can understand this through your closed eyes.
And something about the way she fixes your hair tells you that she does.
“It’s okay,” she assures you, her other hand finding that one spot on your chest. It feels like it’s touching your heart directly, calming it. “I get it,” her fingers wrap around the knot of your tie, loosening it till it unravels completely. “You’re hurt and scared. Frankly, so am I.”
Miyeon wraps the tie up neatly in her fist. Her hands cross over each other as she reaches down to grab the hems of her shirt. It slips off her, a layer peeled away. Then the tie rolls down from her hand.
“I want you to know”—she drapes the tie around her shoulders, the thin portion ever so slightly shorter than the broader portion as they hang on either side of those perky mounds—“I will do everything I can to protect you and us.”
She tosses the smaller end across her body, cloth flying over her left shoulder and dangling behind her arm. The broader end is wrapped around her neck—once, twice.
Miyeon steps closer and takes your hand. The broad end of the tie gets slotted into your palm.
“And even though I might have to be seen with him,” she coos, and she’s a little clumsy as she reaches for the thin end behind her, but she gets it on her second or third try. “Even though I might have to hold his hand in public,” she slips it between her skin and the loop she’s made, ties it off. “You should know: I am yours.”
She shocks you into silence as always. You know what she’s insinuating. You know that she knows what she’s insinuating. Your eyes search her for consent, and you find that it’s the only thing you can make out behind the veneer of a tender gaze. She checks the makeshift leash she’s made. It’s not coming off anytime soon.
You wrap some of the tie around your hand. Your fingers close around the silky fabric.
(Just so we’re clear: the tie may look horrible on you, but she looks amazing in it.)
You pull.
And it’s just that.
Clothes come off, lips meet, sighs fly through the room. Her hands explore you, grab you, pump you; your kisses find the best parts of her, the parts you love the most and the parts she loves attention at. The tie never leaves your hand, and you give it a tug or two when you get your digits in her on the couch. You’ll never forget the way she looks when her head is forced up just after it whips back, the glassy look in her eye as she begs for you, keens for you. Never in your life has anything this debauched been so intimate. You’ve never heard sighs out of you and her so luscious.
“Princess,” you quite literally growl as you address her. It’s not necessary, but the squelching of your fingers in her slick brings out something in you—a part of you that’s wild and somewhat untamed. “I fucking love the way you moan.”
Miyeon bites down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. “Yeah? She husks, her eyes going half-lidded in pleasure when you get your fingers in the same, soft, tender spot on the roof of her pussy. “It’s all for you. Ngh— A-All yours…”
And you don’t know how you can not believe her at this point.
You pull at the tie. She almost straightens completely. You kiss her. Her moans send pleasant vibrations down your windpipe.
It’s all so perfect. And it somehow gets even more perfect when she cums—waves of heat burning through her system; eyes shut and mouth agape; hands around your neck and your name spilling from her lips in a mix of curses (that mostly contain the word ‘fuck’); body convulsing and twitching in ways that make a low grunt emerge from the depths of your chest as you watch her. She’s beautiful—your beautiful princess.
When it’s over, you let the tie go slack. She crashes against the couch, forcing air back into her lungs with deep breaths. There’s sweat on her face, her body. Your hand finds its place on her tummy as you place small kisses on the corner of her lip, her jaw. Her skin is moist and sticky.
“Have me,” and it’s more so of a demand than a request. “Take me. However you want, wherever you want,” she runs her hands through your hair, “You’re the only one I want.”
You let out a low hum. It lightly vibrates at the base of your throat as you catch her earlobe between your lips.
“Has anyone told you how fucking beautiful you are?” you can’t help but ask. She searches your face or a minute, then she chortles.
“About half the world,” she replies. “But it means the most coming from you.”
(Oh… That line really means the fucking world to you.)
You kiss her, hard. It’s messy, sloppy, and at some point you guys are scrambling to get on top of each other. She wins at one point, and so she rides you—dropping and rising hard and fast on your cock like a lewd merry-go-round carriage. She’s relentless, letting your cock fill her while she blanks out and just lets herself cry and moan like you don’t have thin walls in your apartment. You let her please herself, throw herself down onto your cock again and again till you decide that it’s your turn to have some fun. The tie is your friend, and you use it to pull her real close to not too kindly hiss your instructions into her ear.
You’d kill to see the look in her eyes again.
And so you have her against the nearest wall in less than a minute, her back flushed against it and one of her legs bent in the crook of your arm. She reaches between your bodies, grabs your throbbing shaft and rubs your tip against her slit. You feel the heat of her pussy—the desire and depravity that burn in her core. You can’t believe she’s yours.
“I’m gonna put this in me,” she narrates her course of action, all breathy and silky. “It’s gonna fill me, fuck me… Maybe even cum in me.”
“I wouldn’t get ahead of ourselves here,” you whisper, your hand wrapping itself back in the fabric of the tie. “That last part? I dunno… Seems a little optimistic, don’t you think?”
She pushes your head in between her folds—not all the way, but enough to part them. “And why is that?”
You pop your hips, push yourself in a little more. She inhales sharply.
“I only cum inside good girls.”
The smile that creeps its way onto her face is wicked.
“Trust me,” her hand finds purchase on your shoulder, pads of her fingers digging into the muscle. “I’ll be the best you ever get.”
She puts her weight onto the leg in your arm. You slide into her.
And you both take a moment to enjoy the unity—the feeling of the two of you being joined as one; your out of sync heartbeats that feel like pattering raindrops around your shaft. You want to say something witty, a quip that will get a nice chuckle out of her.
All you can really manage is, “Fuck.”
And in response: “Talk less. Fuck more.”
You draw back, push in. There’s the sopping sound of your shaft going in and out of her, wet pushing into warm flesh. You groan. She sighs.
Tight, hot, wet, divine.
And it goes without saying: when you pick up the pace, she lets you know that she loves the feeling—the stretching, the filling, the push and pull. It comes to you in the form of pure filth: words that have very little consideration for propriety and no room for decency, something along the lines of “I can’t believe you feel this good. I can’t believe this cock is mine” or “That’s it. Keep filling me. Keep fucking— Oh” or maybe even a mix of both. You can’t be certain, because between you and her, you both know that the undulating of your cock into her tight, creamy heat and the almost torturous pressure around your dick is taking you under by the second. It’s not hard to lose yourself in her when she’s basically a little piece of you.
Like always, she let her pleasure be known through desperate noises and choked up words. “Keep going, please, fuck—don't stop,” and it sounds like it hurts but you know it’s the other way around. Her pleasure coated tongue makes the lust in her words undeniable, her half-lidded eyes ruining the argument that she’s in any pain whatsoever. You yank on her tie, her body curves closer. You need a better look at that face.
(Trust me, it’s a face you don’t want to forget.
For lack of a better word: it’s porny as fuck.)
It's a blissful dance – the rhythmic, almost metronomical give of her thighs as you slide yourself home again and again steadily and firmly. The smacking of sweaty and sticky skins colliding is almost evenly paced, sighs and grunts filling the spaces between slaps. She follows your lead, rocks her hips accordingly, angles herself and adjusts so that she can feel you in the deepest parts of her cunt. You lift her leg a little higher, spear yourself a little deeper. You listen to your body, she listens to hers. You give in to your desires.
You don’t mean to blurt it. You don’t mean to make the sex more complicated than it already is. But it happens—it fucking happens and you can’t stop it.
“I love you,” your voice is nothing more than a rasp. She feels so fucking good around you — squeezing, pulsing and doing every little thing that makes your jaw tighten and you legs tense. “I fucking love you, Miyeon.”
She holds your gaze, then smiles, then nods. She nods vigorously, enthusiastically. “I know… It’s all I’ve ever known.”
Your hand on the tie releases it from your grasp. You catch a bouncing breast in your hand, squeeze the tight and taut nipple with your fingers. The tie shakes violently like a snake writhing, bouncing and swaying with each firm impact against Miyeon’s skin. She mewls, pulls you in, kisses you. She lets herself come undone with her chest flushed against you and your hearts aligned as she lets the cries transfer from your mouth to hers. You pump yourself faster, harder, faster, harder. Your finger digs into the flash near her knee. Your blood is boiling, molten metal spilling over and washing over you—gold rush, acid flux, saturating you in this bliss that numbs you out. You can’t tell where your thrusts start and end. They’re blurred by the heat washing over your eyes. You can’t get enough. The way you fuck her—it feels relentless, merciless, a fire that only burns brighter and can’t be put out, fuelled by the heat of Cho Miyeon flushed against you and the sublime squeeze of her slick heat. Everything about this is hot; everything about her is hot.
“Don’t you ever let me go,” she hisses. “Fuck— don’t ever leave. This cock is mine. You are mine.”
“Princess, I’d never,” you nuzzle yourself into the crook of her neck, pepper her nicely with kisses. “You. Only you.”
“Yeah,” and her breath is hot on the nape of your neck. “Cause I can’t ever fucking imagine anyone else filling me this fucking good. No one has ever filled me this good.”
And her fricatives feel like acid: Aqua Regia—melting straight through solid gold just to get to you. It makes you burn a little hotter, fuck her a little harder. Your heart burns at the thought of her; your brain melts at the sight of her—glassy-eyed and mouth agape while cock pumps her full of pleasure and want. She finds a spot on your shoulder, whispers her proclamation of love— “I love you I love you I love you— Fuck—”—before she buries her face into your shoulder blade. Her love is an animal call, cutting through the darkness and bouncing off the walls, reaching a soft spot in your heart that you hold for her. Nothing in this world is gonna stop you from turning her into a messy little fucktoy.
It’s hard to think. It’s hard to breathe. She’s become your world, the only thing you ever want to think about. Anything that isn’t her tight little pussy is irrelevant; what isn’t her thin lips pressed against your shoulder is invalid; no pair of eyes will ever match the glassy, lust-fogged ones that Cho Miyeon possesses. Your pulse is rushing, your head is reeling, your face is flushing. You want her—all of her. You suck hard on the milky skin you’ve caught between your lips, marking her, claiming her. She has no qualms nor worries; she tilts her neck to give you better access to that lovely patch of skin that becomes your canvas. She mewls, presses her forehead harder into your body, grounding herself in the sensation of her skin on yours.
“I’m gonna fucking fill you, Miyeon,” you drawl. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy and make a mess out of you,”
“Yeah, yes,” she’s barely holding it together at this point. “Please. Oh god please.”
Your hips move on their own now, taking liberties without signals from your fried brain as you pump yourself into Miyeon with the sole goal of piping her full of your hot seed. For long, wordless minutes, you're thrusting into her in a mindless, fervent fashion, giving in to your desires and your depravity and fucking her like she’s a doll. You relish the feel of her skin in your palms; the feel of her hands pressed against your chest; the sheer, strained phonetic atrocities that rise from the depths of her throat. Your shaft glistens in the light of the room, slick with her sweet juices as it slips in and out of her hot cunt, spearing into her with depth, making her legs weaker by the second. Miyeon cups your cheek, moans your name. You bury your nose deep in those silky locks of jet black hair. You need every last part of her to be close to you.
She's whimpering, eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; she’s a coiled up spring, a bundle of nerves waiting to be released. Her bottom lip is between her teeth, her throat bobs. She's coming undone, breaking a little more with each thrust of your cock. You know that she’s cumming before she announces it, and when you fuck her over the point of no return, it’s bliss.
Miyeon melts, head whips back and thumps against the wall, positively combusts on the spot and ceases to hold on to the last bits of herself. She lets herself fall through the pleasure, orgasm almost ripping through her system as she shakes in your grasp. She’s such a precious thing, yet she can look like lust itself when she’s busy cumming all over your cock and whining like her life depends on it. She’s tighter, wetter, even better to fuck.
She really is the best you’ll ever have.
“Miyeon–”
“Just fucking cum.”
Your line; same effect. You fill her, make a creamy mess of her cunt because you can. You fuck her through it, push your load deeper with each thrust. Your cock pulses, spasms, shoots load after load after load into her pussy till you can’t take it anymore and jitter to a halt, and there’s nothing left but a filthy mess flowing out at the base of your cock where her lips are splayed the widest. It’s a sight for sure.
(And there really isn’t a word for the moment that the two of you share in that wrinkle in time, that moment where it’s just all warm and fuzzy and you have your forehead pressed against hers.)
You cradle her in your arms, kiss her chest, her jaw, her lips. It’s tender, it’s gentle.
“We’ll figure this out,” she pants through closed eyes. “I promise you: you and me, we’re gonna figure this all out.”
Somehow, you don’t doubt it.
--
(Still here? Great. We’re getting to the good part. Get your special sock out or something.)
So the newest rage of the K-pop scene is the photo of Miyeon kissing him in a car.
It's a publicity stunt—the whole damn relationship. They are supposed to appear in love according to Miyeon, and it was his idea to kiss her. She never consented and he just did it. It’s a pretty lewd photo: up close and personal and all. You can see his lips on hers, his hand on her breast and they’re like, clearly getting it on in three. Pretty steamy if you do say so yourself,
(...)
Oh fucking hell. Who are you kidding describing this photo like you’re just viewing an artwork. It makes your blood boil, and speaking to her after seeing this photo feels like dancing to alarm bells when you feign ignorance and just talk with her like it’s a normal Wednesday. You’re gonna hurt yourself at this rate, but she really means too much.
She told you that he forced his lips on hers, you believe her to the best of your ability. You kiss her, tell her it’s okay, that she’s doing what she has to do to protect the two of you. She says she’s sorry, that she feels like she’s failed you. You kiss her again—albeit a little half-hearted—and assure her once more that it’s okay. You want to nurse her pain, but you also have your own problems to deal with.
And as if this fucking actor hasn’t interfered enough with your relationship, he has the audacity to call during the make up sex.
Her phone starts to ring when she’s on her hands and knees on your bed, and you’re fucking her into the mattress like she’s some pliant plaything. There's a rage inside you that hasn’t been quenched, and you don’t realise that it’s bringing out that dark side of you till you spank her ass a little harder than you intended to. It doesn’t help that you kinda twitch when you hear her yelp, and it really doesn’t help when she tightens after the second spank. The phone only continues to vibrate next to her head.
“Baby,” she rasps. “My phone…”
“Pick it up,” you hiss. “Pick it up and let whoever the fuck it is hear how you’re being fucked like a slut.”
Degradation has never really been a kink of yours, but you know she’s kinda into it. Even so, you’re not calling her a slut because you consciously want to. You feel like an asshole for being angry, kinda hate yourself a little for not being able to accept that she’s doing what she needs to do. And then you kinda hate her for making you hate yourself and— Ugh. It just gets more complicated the more you try and rationalise it. You can’t stop the hot blood from coursing through your system, fuelling your firm strokes into her tight heat like you’re trying to inject all the hate in your body into her.
Her hand that was once clawing at the sheets now reaches for her phone. You keep thrusting as she flips it over, keep thrusting as she shows you the caller ID, keep thrusting as she looks back at you with a gaze that says “are you sure?”. You hope she isn’t met by that dark look you often see when you look at yourself in the mirror after a new headline about them hits your screen. It’s funny how one person can flip the idea of make-up sex on its head—turn it from something so tender and beautiful to a spite-fuelled fuck fest that’s gonna make things more complicated. She hasn’t even picked up the fucking phone, but you can hear his sick voice in your head as you drive yourself deeper into her cunt, fuck her harder and faster than you knew you could. She’s in no state to answer the phone, yet her finger taps on the ‘accept call’ button.
(She would’ve rejected it if she could, but she got into some deep shit the last time that happened. Must’ve been threatened or something for her to pick up the phone while she’s getting fucked.)
“Hello?” she does her best to steady her voice, and she’s doing pretty well considering how loud the smacking of skin against skin is. She presses the phone a little tighter against her left ear. You don’t intend on stopping. Let him hear her being owned by you for all you care. “T-This is a bad… a bad time.”
Damn straight it is.
Your hand caresses the curve of her ass. You spank her again, making sure that it’s loud and it leaves a red patch on her smooth, creamy skin. She contacts around you, gasps a little as you bend down and pin her down with your weight on her back.
“W-What?”—and it feels like she’s talking to both of you. You hiss into her other ear. “I’m going to fuck you like this,” your voice is actually a snarl, a dark one. Your body is energized by the promise of taking and ravaging the helpless, prone woman beneath you, your words dripping with loathing and your thrusts brimming with spite. “I’m going to fuck you hard and rough, and you’re gonna keep him on the fucking line so he can hear it.”—“No I’m… Jogging.”
She’s terrible at lying. You let her know through each thrust—hard and deep, uncaring for her pleasure or her comfort or anything other than your need to bury yourself again and again inside her body. There’s the need to dominate her, the need to make her yours. You hope this guy can act like he doesn’t care that his supposed girlfriend is being prone-boned by another guy, act like he isn’t totally aware of the fact that Cho Miyeon’s body is never gonna belong to him at any point as long as you’re alive.
(Keep this between us: but with the way you're going down on her, it feels like the message is being transferred to her and not him.)
You hear indistinct chatter. Miyeon bites down on her lower lip, undoubtedly holding back the stream of cries and sighs and lyrical monstrosities that threaten to burst forth. With her eyes she begs, challenges you to do more. You could be reading her wrong by like, a hundred percent. Doesn't matter, not when you can take every liberty with her body because you couldn’t give more of a shit. There’s more indistinct chatter on the other end of the phone; Miyeon says something along the lines of “no. Don’t buy the choker for me”. You give her a choker—raise yourself up and reach around her to wrap your fingers around her throat. Her whole body tenses when you apply pressure around her windpipe. In no universe does this guy not know what’s going on right now.
Cause she’s there—right there, all choked up and struggling to breathe while the fucker keeps yap-yap-yapping away like he’s some fucking guard dog. It irritates the hell out of you. At some point, he kinda has to hear a squelch or smack or two, maybe even a moan or a cry as well. But he stays on the phone, and not once does Miyeon ever have to address the question of whether she’s being fucked on the other end of the call or not. You thought you were ignorant, but this guy is a whole new fucking level of blissfully ignorant. It feels like his sole purpose is to drive a wedge between the two of you, to make you hate her because you hate him. Again: it’s kinda complicated to say exactly what it feels like to be in this situation.
And you can imagine the moans she wants to let out. They’ll tumble out of her lips like water down a waterfall, and they’ll mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you lean back down to kiss her neck, stopping at one spot that you know will be good to mark her and sucking hard. It feels like getting back at her—doing all the things you want to do while she can't speak her mind freely (and you know how tortuous it is for her when she can’t moan while she’s being railed like this). You’re not sure why you would ever need to get back at her when she’s done nothing wrong, but I guess it helps to synthesise and dumb down the emotions you’re feeling at the moment.
“Tonight?” she asks. Then she buries her head into the sheets because she can’t hold back this moan that almost explodes from her chest. You’re not squeezing really hard around her throat, mind you—only enough to make her a little uncomfortable, like a tie has been wrapped around her neck. She's getting off on it though: her walls squeeze you a little tighter; her breaths become more ragged and short. Honestly, she's taking your cock so well, and you communicate this to her with a growl. It makes her shudder a hell lot.
Her other hand clutches the sheets, spasms. She’s pliant, she always is, but it feels like you can wrack her tiny body with so much more pleasure as you keep a hand around her throat and keep your dick pumping in and out of her. You wish you had a mirror to see that pretty face warping under the heat of her lust. You kinda forget that she’s still calling him when she speaks again, cause she follows up with, “I can’t— I can’t believe…”
And if that damn phone call wasn’t happening, she’d be saying something along the lines of “I can’t believe that you’re fucking me this good”.
“Sorry. I got cut off,” she pants. “Yeah… It’s harder to hear me when I’m running.”
Now she's talking to you. The reply is to him, but she’s addressing you. You take her up on it, and the slapping and squelching start to ricochet off the walls and ceiling. What you’re doing should be considered as a whole sin in itself. Technically, it’s adultery, but you’re not too sure if you can even classify this as something that simple. This is jealousy, hate and love mashed into one—a mix of things that kinda shouldn’t go together when you have a woman who’s quite literally like putty beneath you. It doesn’t help that she's this hot, this tight, this wet. She’s straining her moans, and it’s so cute that you want to choke her a little harder. You don’t do it (just clarifying some doubts here), but you almost do.
“R-Really?”—you’re almost certain that what comes next is gonna be addressed to you. You can imagine her signing your name off on it—”wow… That must be so fucking good.”
Bingo. Gotta say: she’s kinda smooth with it.
“I’m fine. Out… Out of breath” you don’t know how she manages to keep her voice steady. “Y-yeah… I’m gonna come… Don’t worry.”
You hope that she can hold on.
You don’t know how long more you fuck her for while she’s on the phone. It’s a blur; you kinda only see red and you’re still choking her out even after she hangs up. It’s only when she goes, “Oh, fuck, daddy—!” with this breathless, perverse, pleading tone and a voice that’s so loud; her body unable to do anything other than gasp and moan and urge you to really give it to her, and when she says “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” like you’re not doing just that (and only that) at the moment that she’s hung up on him. Now she has every facility available to focus on the rock hard meat she’s receiving. You feel filthy, like you’re doing something wrong.
But hey: the sex is hot and Miyeon’s kinda into it, so you keep going. You keep fucking her into the bed—the same way you would if you were fucking her against the wall or in the shower or against any flat surface, really. It’s twisted, it’s dark, it’s hot; the angle her body is at lets you drive yourself deeper and faster and harder into her wet, tight and hot pussy like you never have before. You’re experiencing a novelty, a new chapter.
(Caveat: is it kinda messed up that you call her a cocksleeve? Not really? Huh.)
“God Miyeon…” you feel like the voice that comes from your throat is not your own. “You’re such a good fucking cocksleeve for me,” and you may or may not be tightening the grip around her throat as you speak. “So tight and wet for me. You’re such a good fuck.”
“Oh daddy, fuck you’re so big and deep in me,” she gasps. She has lots to say, even though air is like a fucking luxury for her. She rarely calls you Daddy, yet she’s using her precious air to do so now. “Fuck, fuck me as hard as you can, daddy! Do whatever you want with me! Own me! Take me!”
You barely recognise the woman she’s become: depraved, sordid and one hell of a hot mess. You love it. It’s fantastic. Fucking fantastic.
And she falls apart under you not long after, writhing and moaning and twitching as this beautiful mess of a woman you’ve made out of her. You want to cum in her, really own her; but your thoughts are fueled too much by the hate in your heart that they're wilder than anything she can ever imagine.
You pull out of Miyeon, your shaft glistening in the dim light. You get off the bed, pull her away with you. Her mouth opens to say something. You kiss her—shut her up. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention.
“You’ve gotten enough loads inside your pussy,” you husk. “Get on your knees. I want your mouth.”
She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You push down firmly on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Miyeon on her knees with her pretty little princess face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you paint her face in a messy spray of cum.
And you know what? You’ll do just that.
Of course, Miyeon perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth, grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other. The pace she launches into is hard and fast; blurring her chocolate hair and your vision—taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with rapid urgency while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, the seal sublime; and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. She’s gorgeous, even more so when she’s got cock in her mouth.
Your hand finds a clump of her black, sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. You push her head down onto your cock, pop your hips and start thrusting with firm, slow strokes. She exceeds every expectation you ever had, adapting to you, changing to please you. Your eyes shut involuntarily. Your brain blocks out all sensations that aren’t the wet, hot cavern of Miyeon’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. The backstroke is somehow even better, that pretty little mouth endeavoring to suck you right back in when you draw yourself back out. It feels like time stands still, but Miyeon’s still in motion, and she’s the one making you feel like all the natural laws in the world are being defied.
A small part of you knows that you have to see it happening in order to truly believe it’s all real, so you force your eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Smoky eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you, watering, projecting perverse pleasure with a gaze; hollow cheeks and a seemingly unhinged jaw to accommodate your length; spit leaking from the corners of her mouth, dribbling down her chin.
“Fuck I—” is all you manage to say (or maybe ‘grunt’ is a better word) before your orgasm takes the reins to your body. It overwhelms your senses, but you force your eyes open to watch as you pull Miyeon off your dick just in time. Thick, glistening cum erupts from your tip to land on Miyeon’s face, on her cheeks and nose, painting her smoky features with pearlescent, warm ropes. You paint her face with your hot white seed, and it’s far from an elegant piece of art. She doesn’t look anything like one of the French girls she wanted to be painted like, but the look of utter lust on her needy features is still breathtaking—mouth open, tongue out, eyes closed in delight and bliss.
Ugh, she's one hell of a woman, isn’t she?
And when it’s all over, she takes your cock in her hand and licks off the drops that she’d been deprived of.
“If you ever do that again.” you love the raspy touch to her voice. The lilt in it is doing wonders too. “I’m gonna make sure that you’ll be calling your mom the next time I blow you.”
You roll your eyes and sigh. “Whatever you say, princess…”
The hate seems to fade. Your heartbeat slows.
Maybe this relationship is salvageable. Maybe you guys can last.
You talk to her about it afterwards and apologise sincerely. She says that she didn’t think much of it when it was happening. Then you guys are at peace again.
(What do you think? How long does the honeymoon last? A month more?
Two?
Generous.
Try one. Fucking. Week.)
--
“Okay. Hands down: this is the best Jjamppong I’ve eaten.”
The growing pile of clam shells beside her bowl tells you that you did something right. It’s the first time you've made this dish, and there’s always that lingering worry that you fucked up somewhere along the way when you eat it for the first time. The soup seasoning is a little off in some places (you don’t know where exactly), but it’s nothing a dash of fish sauce and some chilli flakes can’t fix.
“I mean,” Miyeon continues, speaking between small yet generous mouthfuls of noodles. “You only get better and better at cooking. I don't know how you do it.”
You give a half-hearted smile. Your noodles have kinda gone cold by now: you’ve been stirring them around with your chopsticks for the past five minutes or so. Appetite has become a luxury for you these days, and it’s one of those days where a new article about him and her comes out, one of those days where you both agreed to put a pin on it and just enjoy life. “Well… It’s a lot of love and care, I guess.”
“You can say that again,” she smiles. “Thank you for making dinner. No one cooks like you.”
“Thank you for cutting scallions,” you say. “No one cuts them like you do.”
She laughs and waves it off, then takes another slurp of her noodles. “I honestly don’t know if I like your tomato soup over this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My tomato soups have always been the peak of my cooking prowess.”
“I really don’t know!” she tells you, grabbing another clam from the centre of the table. “This stuff is all smoky and tasty… It just feels like home and I—”
You drop your chopsticks into your bowl. Soup splashes onto the table.
“How do I keep living like this, Miyeon?” you ask. There are only so many pins in your possession and you feel like you’ve used all of them. “I’d love to sit here and talk to you about how I made this meal like everything’s okay, and this is just Thursday and maybe we’ll get ice cream later… But it’s not like that right now.”
Miyeon takes your hand in hers.
“I can’t pretend like things are the same when everything’s… different,” you close your eyes, take a breath. “I love you, Miyeon. You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me and… I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
You can hear her take a breath to start speaking. You really want to let her, but there’s too much on your chest.
“I know you’re doing what you have to, for me, for us,” you want—oh so badly––to just bury your face in your hands right now. But once you do that, the tears will inevitably come and your ability to speak your mind will disappear faster than you can regain yourself. “But it hurts. It hurts to see you holding his hand, walking around and… and kissing him.”
Your heart stings when you see the tears welling in her eyes when you find it in you to look at her. The last thing you want is to see her in pain. This next bit hurts you even more to say, but you know that it’s better to tell her how you feel.
“I feel like I’m an open wound… and you're just pouring salt on me,” and you start to choke up a little. “I’m sorry to put it that way but—”
“No,” she interjects. “No. I get it… I-I understand.”
And for a moment, it feels like everything's okay for a bit.
Then she comes around the table to kiss you, and hell’s bells start ringing all over again. It hurts to kiss her, but it feels so right.
Miyeon leans into you. She kisses you. She pulls you close. She lets you run your hands across her body, down her back. You stand. Your tongue pokes into her mouth. One of you says I need you and you don’t know who it is.
And like when things were okay: you guys don’t make it to the couch.
You get naked. She gets naked. The sex isn’t about pleasure or thrill. It’s the aching within the both of you that drives your shaft into her cunt, rocks her hips as you fuck her. You quite literally make love with her, your strokes passionate and fervent; her cries are earnest and wanton, full of longing. For long moments when her chest is against yours, your hearts are aligned. You wish that you could fuse them together, take away the pain by making the two of you one singular person there on the floor. It feels possible when your dick is throbbing inside of her, pumping her slick with rock hard meat again and again and again.
But the thing that sucks the most is that you can’t do that. You’re two separate people with two separate problems that kinda overlap at the same point.
You have her bent over the counter, propped up on the kitchen sink—anywhere you could reach was a surface for you and her. And normally you’d be a bit of a party pooper about fucking on these surfaces, but today you really can’t give more of a shit. You want to feel like everything’s okay again, like you’re not fighting for your life to hold on to this relationship that’s being torn apart day by day, night by night.
And you may have pieces of each other deep within your souls, but they don’t seem to fit anymore.
When it’s all over and you’re panting against the dishwasher, reality hasn’t changed and you’re still torn. You have a wound that only you can heal through acceptance, yet you can’t find it in you to accept that this is the life you have to lead. You want to love her. You want it so bad. But you can’t find the will in you to love her when there’s another man in the picture, albeit that her love for him isn’t even minimally a concept. You can’t nurse her injuries either, and it hurts to know that as her delicate hands cradle your cheeks. Her touch is perfect, her breaths are soft on your skin. The two of you have tried so hard to make it work, yet you’ve only come so far. The solution to this problem is like thousands of hot fire pokers stabbing you simultaneously, and it only hurts because it’s the only way forward for the both of you.
“Miyeon,” you can’t quite believe what you’re about to say. The tears streaming down your cheeks aren’t making anything easier. “Let’s break up.”
(And this isn’t for pity: but you cry yourself to sleep after she leaves that night. Ain’t it fun being heartbroken? You would know how it feels, right cupcake?)
--
Three months, two weeks and one day (about 105 days if you really want to be fully accurate. Go write that down somewhere) pass uneventfully—and by that you mean, you never picked up any of the 138 calls that came from Miyeon. It would have been 140 calls if you hadn’t picked up two of them when you were drunk. But hey, she was drunk too. So it kinda cancels out… at least you like to think that it does. It does, doesn't it? Two negatives make a positive?
(No?)
Ah well. Anyway,
(Okay, caveat, again: you’re thankful that she hadn’t showed up to the apartment once throughout this period. You’ve been stuck between your anger and a blame that you can’t face because you don’t know if you blame yourself or her or him. Drinking doesn’t help to lighten the ache in your chest, so you tried exercising: running, swimming, even pilates; you tried to pick up music—bought a guitar and everything. Your fingers still hurt when you play chords, and you’re considering giving up at some point; you tried to learn how to make those pain in the ass French desserts, and now you have a fire extinguisher permanently installed in your kitchen because you somehow managed to set fire to macarons; and you tried to write. That didn’t go well. 5 Wattpad users politely asked you to kill yourself. Not fun.
One way or another, your thoughts would end up drifting back to Miyeon, and you’d have to sit in place and kinda stare into the distance for a little. And yes, you did question your choice to end things with her many times if anyone is asking. You kinda hate yourself a little for not trying to make things work, and you also kinda hate her for not insisting on staying to make things work.
It took two of the three months for you to realise that you were both kinda in the wrong. But it’s already too late by then.
You couldn’t get a grip of yourself and fight off your internal demons; she couldn’t stop doing what she thought was right to protect the two of you. Net-net: it’s a loss for the both of you in the business of love. Now you have to look for a way forward through this grey-area mess that you’ve made, learn to live with the fact that maybe you guys just weren't meant to be in the grand scheme of things.
The updates on Miyeon’s relationship with that damned actor kept coming, but it stopped as of late. But for a while, they were all the rage for gossip blogs. Every now and then, a shitty title like “Cho Miyeon stuns with her visuals on her date” would pop up, and you have to swipe away quickly before you accidentally tap on the notification and see her holding hands with him. You’ll admit that you opened some of the articles just to get a look at her face, then smile to yourself for a bit before you fight the urge to punch the spot next to her where Squid Game wannabe is smiling. You’ve succeeded so far.
You kept away from Jjampong and tomato soup with grilled cheese too. It’s hard to take your butter bell down from the fridge without tearing a little, and the fish sauce and chilli flake panacea for food doesn't apply to a broken heart by the way (it’s just really salty and spicy. You don’t know what you were thinking. Probably drunk. 0/10, please, please, please do not try). The two dishes are too homely; their tastes remind you of her.
Okay. Let’s ‘anyway’ for real this time.)
Yeah, so uh, remember how you said that sometimes the news you give each other can be a little heart-attack-inducing, so it’s better that your loves are pretty bland? Yep… Sad to say that the same confirmed hypothesis still stands, even when you guys are on day 106 of your break up.
This time the news comes in another headline—and you mean like front page, breaking news headline—on Tuesday night. Wonderwall isn’t treating you too well. You’re pretty sure that your finger tips might be turning purple. Your phone buzzes next to you like crazy, just like it did that night, and it’s like having an iPhone seizure. You don’t think too much when you put down the guitar and pick up your device.
And you only read the first six words to give yourself a valid reason to reset your miscall streak with Miyeon.
Idol Cho Miyeon Slapped In Public…
(The title was a lot longer than that. You should know it since you’re here in the first place.)
It’s in moments like this when you kinda wish that speed dial was still a thing. (I mean there's siri and all, but do you really have time for that right now?) In a blur of great clumsiness, you open your contacts and experience no difficulty in locating her number again. She’s on the top of your miscall list, so it really takes no wizard to figure this out.
You hate that she’s letting it ring for so long. Every brr brr makes you tremble a little more in your seat. If your mum could see you now, you’d probably get an earful for your bad habit of biting your nails.
She finally picks up the phone. It’s good to hear her voice. “Hey…”
Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Now you realise that in your hurry to check on her, you’ve yet to rehearse what to say to her. The debate between your head and gut almost tears you in two.
“You okay?” you finally manage to blurt after some struggle. “I saw the news… Just wanted to check if, you know, you’re still up and kicking…”
You hear that familiar scoff from the other side of the phone. “Please. You know that it takes more than that to take me down.”
If your ears don't deceive you, you can hear a bit of a strain in her voice. She hates it when you jump to conclusions though, so you leave it as it is for now. “That’s… That’s great.”
And it’s silent again. If you were in the business of losing her interest, you’d be making crazy profits right now. Okay, better end this fast.
“Well uh,” you begin, stopping for a second to swallow some saliva to soothe your semi parched throat. “I guess—”
“Can I come over?”
Like she always does, she shocks you into silence. Your throat dries up. Your mouth is the Sahara.
“I… I miss you… if my miss-calls weren't clear enough about that,” she chuckles. You swear you hear a sniffle. “I’d like to see you again,” and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, “for closure of course… and maybe tomato soup?”
Your heart joins the debate between your head and gut. It wins.
Minutes later, your butter bell is open, a knife scraping out the last bits of creamy butter out of it so that it can be used to evenly butter the other side of your bread. You’re moving on instinct, with glee and excitement. You’re not sure why you’re happy. You’re just happy—happy that you’re gonna see her; happy that you can prepare this dish again without the knowledge that you’re not gonna see her when you turn. It isn’t till the doorbell rings that the joy fades, and in its place comes that familiar tension of a two tonne weight wrapped around your chest.
You aren’t sure why she rings the door when you haven’t changed the passcode to the lock. If she’s trying to be polite? You appreciate it. If she just forgot the pin? Well… you wouldn’t put that past her either, really. Your gut, head and heart agree you that it’s most likely the latter, and you kinda have to remind yourself as you open the door that she's just as forgetful as anyone else.
“Hi,” you catch yourself staring at her. You don’t mean to look at her dress first, but it’s the first thing your eyes are drawn to; it's been a while since you’ve seen her in anything other than a t-shirt and shorts. The white dress she’s wearing is bedazzled out, the light that’s reflected off of it catching you and making you a deer in headlights for a bit. Then you snap out of it. Your gaze travels up to her face and… “You look… Fucking terrible.”
You love her eyes and you love to watch them roll. “Thanks. You look not bad yourself. Gained some weight?”
You try not to stare. You fail—horribly you might add.
But in your defence, it’s hard not to look at the purple spot on her milky skin.
Miyeon covers her cheek. She looks down at your feet like there's something really interesting about them. “Are you, you know, letting me in? Or are we just gonna keep standing here?”
You blink. “R-Right.”
And soon she’s settled into her usual seat, nibbling on some grilled cheese while you ladle out her tomato soup into a bowl. It feels like nothing has changed, but you know that’s not true. Both of you know that everything’s different, that you can’t just give her tomato soup and peck her on the cheek.
“So you play guitar now?” she catches you off guard as the bowl makes a small thunk against the table. It’s in the same spot she always places it, and you know because a woodring has formed in that area. You follow her gaze and see that she’s spotted your Fender on the couch.
“Sort of?” you reply, a little uncertain in how to rate your abilities. “Just basic stuff, you know?”
She smirks and picks up her spoon, starts chipping away at her soup “So you’re finally digging up the singer-songwriter in you… Good on you, man.”
Again, you find yourself staring at the bruise. It’s a deep shade of purple, splotchy and a sight for sore eyes. From the looks of it, he hit her hard. There’s a burning in your chest—a mix of grief, pity and anger as you watch her eat her food. You wish that you could’ve been there to stop it. You wished that you could’ve just dated her under different circumstances so that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve gotten that ending you wanted. You don’t know how she’s ever gonna cover that up when—
“If you’re gonna get something for this thing, go do it,” she mutters. “Chivalry hasn’t died completely, right?”
You nod and scuttle off. It’s easy to lose track of how long you’ve been staring when you’re lost in your thoughts. Is it scary how this feels like just another conversation between you two?
The ice pack from when she bought that ice cream cake was still in the freezer, and it’s chilly in your hands as you grab it and return to the table. She has finished her soup—not a single scrap left inside the bowl. She must be starving.
Her grilled cheese is half eaten in her hand; she stares into the distance as she chews.
(And she’s as beautiful as she can ever be, by the way. A lot of people haven’t seen her the way you see her, and you’re kinda glad that you get to witness that tender part of her that she rarely shows to cameras. It’s… It’s hard to describe what it means to know that someone like her finds it this easy to be herself around you, but you know it’s an honour and a blessing.
But when you're looking at her with your rose-tinted lenses stripped away from you, the notions you hold towards vulnerability become contradictory, because on one hand you know that she’ll never hurt you the way she did, but on the other you know that she’s not the same person when she’s not around you. So at the end of the day, you’re just kinda left figuring out which side of her is the real her. Do you believe what the Cho Miyeon you know tells you? Or do you believe what the Cho Miyeon the world knows? It gets confusing, makes you wonder why she ever has to put up two fronts in the first place.
Then again, it’s not exactly her fault: she does what she has to so she can stay afloat. No industry is free from dirt. Some are just filthier than others.
I guess what I’m getting at is that… she’s this contradiction in my mind. I want to believe her, but I can’t, yet I still love her like she’s just a regular human and our lives are just a little messy. I know there's this whole argument about the fact that idols are humans too and all, but I guess it’s kinda… undermined? Yeah—undermined by the fact that they can’t exactly lead ‘normal’ lives once they’re famous. Look at me, using these big words.
So I guess… I guess dating her was like the worst of all blessings and the best of all curses. Does that make sense?
…
Ugh. I’m blabbering.
Sorry cupcake, I’ll get back to it.)
And maybe you forget that she isn’t your girlfriend anymore, or maybe you just kinda blank out in the moment, or maybe you just wanted to do it. For whatever reason: you call her name, and when she turns, the ice pack in your hand is gently applied against her face. You don’t think much of it for like, three or four seconds. But when her wide eyes finally register in your head, there’s a moment where your breath is caught in your throat.
This is important, so you should know: the silence is fucking deafening.
She swallows the bit of sandwich in her mouth. “I refused to sleep with him, and he hit me like a girl. Fucking embarrassing on his part,” and there’s that smile on her face as she speaks, the same one that she loves to flash your way when she told you that she loved you. “Barely felt it. Light work.”
You can’t resist—your other hand cradles her unblemished cheek. “Miyeon…”
She closes her eyes. She knows that tone you’re using, the one that’s like ‘don’t lie to me’ or ‘it’s okay, you can tell me’. “Look: when the man that loved you the way no one else loved you breaks up with you, nothing can be more painful than that,” she whispers. Her throat bobs a little. She furrows her brows as her eyes squeezed themselves shut themselves a little tighter. “And that man is you by the way…” her voice cracks, her eyes open, “don’t know if I was clear enough.”
And you kinda have to kiss her after that. It’s a good line… and she’s, like, smoking hot right now. She always is.
The familiarity of her lips against yours almost makes you melt. The ice pack drops from your hand, your palm taking its place on her face. You kiss her like you used to. You kiss her like you want nothing else but her. You kiss her like you want nothing else but her because you want nothing else but her. She’s home – Jjamppong and Grilled Cheese with Tomato soup — and you don’t ever want her to leave again.
“I’m sorry,” she croaks, and you wipe the tear trailing down her cheek. “I should have never… We should have never—”
You shush her with your lips. She lets herself melt into you, her hands running through your hair the way she would sometimes when she called you crazy or baby. You don’t realise how much you’ve missed her touch till now.
“We were both wrong,” you tell her once you break away (rather reluctantly). “So how about we just call it a truce?”
She nods, and she does it enthusiastically. “If it’s cool with you…”
You scoff. “Why would it not be?” and your thumb gently caresses her bruise gently. You want to kill him, but you’ll save that for another time. “I’m the one who suggested it… Guess Chivalry is not all dead, huh?”
And it’s good to hear her laugh again.
“Come here you big idiot,” she giggles, and she kisses you again.
Then you dive down to her collarbone when you can’t take it anymore. And the rest is history repeating itself.
You know: it feels like you’ve been picked up from the ground. Miyeon has come to get you… she's come to get you.
Maybe everything’s okay after all.
--
(And uh… The media covers the rest. What was it? Like, two weeks later?
Ah whatever. You know what happens, don’t you? It’s pretty crazy, made headlines and all.
CUBE has some really good lawyers… And liars. Almost the same thing.)
--
“So that’s the story?”
Nursing your third bottle of cider, you chuckle. You’d thought by fleshing out whole smuts in verbal form would have chased her away by now, yet here she is. Then again: she is an old friend of yours, so you guessed that she’d be rather adjusted to your bullshit. “Are you sure you’re an investigative journalist?” you question her, “I thought you’d ask something more along the lines of ‘what happens after?’.”
From across the booth seat, Chou Tzuyu shoots you a smirk.
“The news covered it. Why should I pour salt into old wounds?” she admits. Her glass of wine swirls, manipulated expertly by her delicate fingers. “Anyway, I think I got… The main gist of it. Unless you have more information regarding the restraining order filed against you by CUBE, I have no further questions.”
You roll your eyes. No, you do not have any new information about why CUBE decided that you were a danger to Cho Miyeon, and you’ll never know if Miyeon knows either. She was out of town when it happened, and all she knows is what the news reported: you’re allegedly a stalker and hence a threat. You only know that she called and texted you frantically after, but…
You know what? Maybe you’ll think about this another time.
“You do know that, like, you're kinda bad at this right?” and you set your cider bottle aside, letting it join the almost empty whiskey bottle you bought yourself. You fold your hands and lean into the table. The world spins a little. “I don’t know why you’re prying, but I’m guessing that you heard something from the grapevine that you were itching to hear more about. Either that or you’re just… Could it be that you’re desperate to get something fresh, Miss Chou?”
She sips on her wine, leaves the question hanging in the air for a little as she swallows.
“Keep this between us: I can’t trust Shuhua sometimes,” she muses. “If I’m gonna write about this, I’m gonna have to make sure that all the information I’ve gotten from her can be corroborated,” she pushes a wisp of hair behind her ear. “And for the record: I am not bad. I do my research as thoroughly as anyone else would—enough to know that you are someone who tells the truth.”
“So you’re saying that you trust me as a source?” you can’t help but scoff. “Me, the very guy that got fucked over by CUBE? I could be bigoted and biased for all you know. Or even worse: I’m lying.”
She smiles knowingly. “Respectfully, you have too much… personal voice in this recount that I might as well write an autobiography on your behalf.”
And she stuns you into silence. It occurs to you that you're a little drunk, and you’re pretty sure that you called this woman ‘cupcake’ multiple times. You’re not too sure; you don’t even have half a mind to know what you’re doing or saying.
Tzuyu gulps down the rest of her wine before she rises from her seat.
“I best be going,” she opens her purse and fishes something out of it. She hands you a card, an address and a phone number handwritten onto it in what looks like a felt pen. “If you want your story to be heard, give me a call… Or a text. Whatever strikes your fancy. I’ll need a version of this that doesn’t include all the fucking and your drunk blabbering,” she shoulders her purse and smiles. “Can’t promise that I’ll buy you a drink to make you talk again, but I can treat you to some really good Chinese dumplings. Maybe we can catch up a little too. It’s been a while.”
You stare at the card, tracing the hooks and curves that form numbers and letters. Your eyes fix back on her. “Why are you doing this?”
She shrugs, and it’s not a “I dunno” type of shrug, but more like a “the proof’s in the pudding, open your fucking eyes” type of shrug.
“I want to report the truth, and I know you well enough to know that you want that too.”
That's right. Another series. I know I'm doing everything but finishing up Beats Me, and you can go cry a river in my asks if you want. Just kidding, I love all of you, but I want to write what I want to write. Let me have my fun, would you?
Also, for the record: I did not finish this 5 days after Beats Me 7. Beats Me 7 was finished before I vanished from tumblr for a bit. This has been brewing since December. You can thank long drives and Noah Kahnan for this.
Anyway, another big thank you to @defmaybe for being such a great sport and reading through the 39 page document that showed up in their discord DMs one fine day. This fic would have been full of typos and horrible grammatical errors if it weren't for them.