The Concert After Party - Rose and Lisa
OC X ROSE X LISA
KOFI - LINK PATREON - LINK {DO NOT USE APPLEPAY}
The roar of the crowd was still a phantom vibration in their bones, a deafening echo that had only just begun to fade. Backstage at the Olympic Gymnastics Arena in Seoul was a chaotic whirlwind of celebration. Crew members hugged, managers breathed sighs of profound relief, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, champagne, and triumph. BLACKPINK had just shattered another record, another sold-out night, another testament to their global domination.
In the heart of the storm, Lisa and Rose clung to each other, laughing breathlessly. Adrenaline was a potent drug, but something else was coursing through their veins, something warmer, more insidious. A well-meaning, if overly enthusiastic, catering manager had pressed fancy, neon-colored cocktails into their hands after they came off stage. "A new energy drink prototype for athletes and performers!" he'd gushed. "Very potent! Very exclusive!"
They'd drained the glasses, thirsty and euphoric. Now, twenty minutes later, the initial cool refreshment had given way to a deep, internal heat. It started as a pleasant warmth in their stomachs but had quickly spread, coiling like a serpent through their limbs, settling with a throbbing, insistent pressure between their legs. It was more than post-performance adrenaline. It was a chemical fire, a need that was rapidly burning away all rational thought.
"Unnie... do you feel... hot?" Rose asked, her voice a little slurred. She fanned her face, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Her skin felt hypersensitive; the brush of her own stage outfit against her nipples sent jolts of electricity straight to her core.
Lisa nodded, her usually sharp, playful eyes now glazed with a hazy desire. "Yeah. Really... really warm. I feel... weird." She shifted her weight, trying to subtly press her thighs together. The slickness she felt there was undeniable. It wasn't normal. The tight, sequined shorts she wore felt like they were strangling the aching heat that was building within her.
They made their excuses, brushing off Jisoo's concerned look and Jennie's offer to join the after-party. They needed to get back to the hotel. They needed to be alone. The short car ride was a special kind of torture. Every bump in the road sent shocks through their overly sensitized bodies.
They sat apart, hands clenched in their laps, stealing glances at each other, each seeing their own desperate hunger reflected in the other's eyes. A strange, tense electricity crackled between them, something that had always simmered under the surface of their fierce friendship but was now being pushed to a boiling point by the mysterious concoction in their systems.
They stumbled out of the car, barely acknowledging their security, and practically ran for the private elevator to their shared penthouse suite. The silence between them was heavy, charged with unspoken need. The doors slid open into their lavish living area, all soft lighting and panoramic views of the Seoul skyline. They didn't see any of it.
The moment the hotel suite door clicked shut, locking them away from the world, the last vestiges of their control shattered.
A ragged, desperate gasp escaped Rose's lips. She leaned back against the door, her legs trembling so violently she could barely stand. Her hands, of their own volition, flew to her own body. One palm cupped her breast through her top, squeezing roughly, while the other hand pressed hard against the aching heat between her legs.
"Lisa... I... I can't..." she whimpered, her eyes screwed shut in a mixture of agony and ecstasy.
Lisa was in no better state. She stood in the middle of the room, her body arched, her head thrown back. "Fuck... what was in that drink?" she moaned, her voice husky and raw. Her own hands were roaming, one pinching and twisting her own nipple through the fabric of her crop top, the other sliding down the front of her shorts. Her hips began to move in a slow, involuntary grind against her own fingers. "It feels... I need... I need to..."
It was a mirror of desperation. They were both lost to the same overwhelming, chemical-induced lust. There was no hesitation, no shame, only a primal, all-consuming need for release.
Rose's fingers frantically worked the zipper of her leather pants, shoving them down her thighs along with her underwear. She sank to the plush carpet, her back still against the door, her legs falling open in a lewd, inviting V. Her right hand dove between her slick folds without preamble.
Two slender fingers plunged into her soaking wet pussy, a cry of relief and frustration tearing from her throat. "Oh God, yes..." she chanted, her fingers pistoning in and out of her own heat, her thumb circling her swollen, throbbing clit. The sight was utterly debauched: the elegant, fairy-like Rose, spread eagle on the floor, fucking herself with frantic abandon. 🌹🔥
Lisa watched, her own need magnified by the lewd display. With a guttural sound, she ripped her shorts and panties down in one violent motion, kicking them away. She didn't even make it to the surface. She simply bent over, bracing her hands on her knees, and reached behind herself. Her arm worked between her legs, her fingers finding her own drenched slit.
She was even less gentle than Rose, fucking herself with three fingers, the wet, squelching sounds loud in the quiet room. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she grunted, her ass shaking with the force of her own thrusts. Her other hand reached back to spread her own cheek, offering herself to the empty room, her dark eyes wild with need. 💃🔥
They were a symphony of sin. Their moans, gasps, and cries intertwined, rising in pitch and desperation. They were so lost in their self-induced pleasure, so consumed by the fire in their blood, that they didn't hear the soft, almost silent footsteps in the hallway outside. They didn't hear the gentle rattle of a cleaning cart.
An old man, Mr. Kim, moved slowly down the corridor. He was in his late sixties, his face a roadmap of a hard-lived life, his body thin and slightly stooped from decades of thankless work. His job was to do a final check of the vacated suites, empty trash bins, and ensure everything was in order for the next day. He was a ghost in this world of luxury and fame, invisible to the beautiful people who stayed here.
He paused outside the door to the penthouse suite. He knew who was staying there. Everyone on staff did. The sounds he heard from within made him freeze. It wasn't the TV. They were... moans. Female moans. Desperate, hungry, and unmistakably real. His heart, old and tired, began to hammer against his ribs. A flush crept up his neck. This was wrong. He should walk away.
But he couldn't.
His feet were rooted to the spot. He leaned closer, his ear almost touching the rich, polished wood of the door. The sounds were clearer now. He could hear the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. He could hear their voices.
"Harder... oh, yes, right there..." Rose's voice, melodic even in its ecstasy.
"Fuck myself... so deep..." Lisa's guttural, Thai-accented groan.
Mr. Kim's hand trembled as he reached for the master keycard in his pocket. It was a profound violation of trust, a fireable offense, a crime. But the images his mind conjured, fueled by those sounds, were too powerful to resist. With a shaking hand, he silently swiped the card. The lock disengaged with a soft, almost inaudible click. He didn't open the door. No, he just pushed it open the tiniest fraction, just enough to create a slim sliver of a view.
The sight that met his eyes stole the breath from his lungs.
He saw Rose first, on the floor, her body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her beautiful face contorted in pleasure as she finger-fucked her dripping pussy. Then his eyes found Lisa, bent over, her incredible, toned ass on full display, her own hand a blur between her legs. The room smelled of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable, musky scent of female arousal.
It was the most erotic, most forbidden thing he had ever witnessed. Two of the most famous, most desirable women on the planet, reduced to animals of pure need, pleasuring themselves mere feet from him.
A low groan escaped his lips. His own neglected cock, which hadn't been stirred in years, thickened and hardened with an almost painful urgency against the rough fabric of his work pants. Without conscious thought, his hand fumbled for his own zipper. He pulled out his cock. It was, to his own surprise and to the shock that would have awaited the women had they been in their right minds, impressively thick and long, standing proud and hard despite his age, a testament to a virility that time had not completely erased. His gnarled, aged hand wrapped around his shaft, and he began to stroke himself, his eyes glued to the crack in the door, his jack-off session a frantic, desperate mimicry of the actions inside the room. 👴🍆
He was so engrossed, so lost in his voyeuristic pleasure, that he didn't realize the sounds inside the room had changed. The frantic self-pleasuring had slowed. A new tension had entered the air.
Lisa's hypersensitive hearing, honed by years of performance, had caught the faint, ragged breathing from the hallway. Her head snapped up, her eyes, still clouded with lust, narrowing. She turned her head towards the door.
And she saw him.
She saw the old, weathered face, the eyes wide with shock and desire, the hand desperately pumping his cock. A normal person would have screamed. A normal person would have been horrified.
But Lisa was not normal. Not tonight. The drug in her system twisted the shock, the violation, into something else entirely. It fed the hunger. Another participant. A cock. A real, thick, hard cock to replace her fingers.
A slow, predatory smile spread across her sweat-slicked face. "Well, hello there," she purred, her voice dripping with a dark, seductive promise.
Rose followed her gaze. She saw the old man. A jolt went through her, but it wasn't fear. It was a fresh wave of blinding, consuming need. Her eyes zeroed in on his cock, large and erect in his hand. Her mouth actually watered.
The old man, Mr. Kim, froze in utter terror. He tried to shove his cock back into his pants, to run, to apologize, but he was paralyzed.
He was too slow.
In a movement faster than he could process, Lisa was at the door. She yanked it open. Before he could even form a word, two pairs of strong, young hands grabbed him. Rose and Lisa, moving with a unified, desperate strength, pulled him into the room. The door swung shut behind him, locking him in their den of iniquity.
He stumbled, falling to his knees on the carpet between them. He expected anger, screams, and security. He expected to be arrested.
He did not expect what happened next.
Rose dropped to her knees in front of him. Her delicate hands, which had just been inside herself, now reached for his cock. She stroked it, a look of awe on her face. "So big," she whispered, her voice breathy. "So hard for us..."
Lisa knelt behind him, her hands sliding over his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his back. She nibbled on his ear. "Don't be scared," she whispered, her tongue tracing the shell of his ear. "We saw you watching. Did you like the show? Do you want to be in it?"
Mr. Kim could only moan, his mind short-circuiting. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.
Rose decided to show him it was. She leaned forward, her pink lips parting, and she took the head of his cock into her mouth.
The sensation was so intense, so wet and hot and perfect, that Mr. Kim cried out. Rose's tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, licking up the drop of precum that had beaded there. She moaned around him, the vibration traveling straight to his balls.
Lisa's hands roamed over his chest, pinching his nipples through his uniform, her hips grinding against his back. "That's it, Rosie," she encouraged, her own breath hitching. "Taste him. He tastes good, doesn't he?"
Rose sank deeper, taking more of his length into her mouth, her head beginning to bob. She was a natural, her suction perfect, her tongue working miracles. But she wasn't alone for long.
Lisa moved around to his side. "My turn," she said, her voice a husky command. She pushed Rose's head aside gently and took over, swallowing his cock with an eager hunger that made his eyes roll back in his head. Lisa's technique was different—more aggressive, more voracious. She deep-throated him with a shocking ease, her nose buried in his pubic hair, her throat muscles fluttering around the head of his dick.
They traded off, a perfectly synchronized team of pleasure. Rose would lick and suck his balls, running her tongue along the sensitive seam underneath, while Lisa devoured his shaft. Then Lisa would kiss and bite his inner thighs while Rose took him deep into her throat. It was a double blowjob from heaven, or perhaps hell, a relentless, wet, messy onslaught of sensation. The sounds of their sucking, their moans, their whispered, filthy encouragement filled the room. They were like two starving women presented with a feast, and they were determined to devour every last inch of him. 👅👅🍆
"Your cock is so perfect for our mouths," Rose gasped, coming up for air, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening shaft.
"Fuck our faces," Lisa demanded, grabbing his hands and placing them on the backs of their heads. "Use us. We're your sluts tonight."
Mr. Kim, emboldened by their utter depravity, by the impossible reality of the situation, did as he was told. His hips began to thrust upward, and his hands pressed down, guiding their mouths onto his cock. He fucked Rose's mouth, then Lisa's, then both together, their tongues lashing his length. The sight was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed: Blackpink's Lisa and Rose, on their knees, sharing his cock, their beautiful faces slick with spit and desire.
He felt his orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure. "I'm... I'm going to cum!" he warned them, his voice a strangled rasp.
They didn't pull away. They doubled down. Lisa took him deep into her throat again, holding him there, while Rose fondled his balls, urging him on.
"Give it to us!" Rose begged. "We want it!"
With a roar that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, Mr. Kim came. Jets of hot, thick cum erupted into Lisa's waiting mouth. She swallowed greedily, her throat working, but there was too much. It spilled from her lips, dripping down her chin onto her chest. Rose quickly leaned in, lapping up the spillage from Lisa's skin, kissing her, sharing his taste between them.
He collapsed back, spent, expecting it to be over. He was an old man. He should be done.
But the drug in their systems was relentless. Their need was barely scratched. And to his own amazement, his cock, slick with their saliva, remained rock hard, throbbing with a vitality he hadn't known in decades.
Lisa saw it. Her eyes lit up with feral glee. "Oh, no, you don't," she said, pushing him onto his back on the carpet. "You're not done. You've only just begun."
She straddled him in one fluid motion, her knees on either side of his hips. She reached down, guiding his miraculously persistent cock to her sopping wet entrance. "You're going to fill me up now," she declared, and then she sank onto him, impaling herself on his entire length in one smooth, devastating motion.
"YES! FUCK!" Lisa screamed, her head thrown back, her body shuddering as he stretched her, filled her completely. She began to ride him, a wild, untamed rhythm, her hips grinding down on him, her hands braced on his chest. Her tight, muscular pussy was a velvet vise around his cock, milking him, demanding more.
Rose watched, her own need spiking again. She crawled over to them, her mouth attaching to Lisa's breast, sucking and biting her nipple through her top. Her hand found Lisa's clit, rubbing frantic circles as Lisa fucked their old janitor.
"Harder!" Rose moaned against Lisa's skin. "Fuck his cock harder, Lisa! Make yourself cum on him!"
Lisa obeyed, her pace becoming frantic, her screams louder. Mr. Kim could only hold on, his hands gripping her hips, watching the stunning woman bounce on his dick. He thrust up to meet her, driving even deeper. The sight, the feel, the sounds—it was too much. He felt another orgasm building, but he fought it back, clenching his muscles, determined to last. This was a miracle, and he wouldn't let it end.
Lisa's orgasm hit her like a freight train. She screamed, a raw, broken sound, and her pussy clenched around him in a series of violent, rhythmic spasms. She ground down on him, milking him dry, but still, he didn't cum. He held on, his stamina seemingly supernatural.
As Lisa collapsed forward, gasping, Rose was already moving. "My turn!" she panted, pushing Lisa off him. She was less aggressive than Lisa, more sensual. She lay on her back next to him, pulling him on top of her, wrapping her long, slender legs around his waist. "Please," she begged, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes that belied the filth she was begging for. "Please fuck me. I need to feel you."
Mr. Kim needed no further encouragement. He positioned himself between her legs and pushed into her. Rose was tighter than Lisa, her warmth a silken, clinging glove around his cock. She was incredibly wet, and he slid in easily. He fucked her with deep, long, powerful strokes, his age and frail appearance completely deceptive. He was a machine of pure lust.
Rose wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him deeper, meeting every thrust with a lift of her hips. "Yes! Oh God, yes! Right there! You're so deep! You feel so good inside me!" she chanted, her voice a high-pitched melody of pleasure.
Lisa recovered quickly, her own need returning.
Lisa’s recovery was swift, a testament to the unnatural fire still burning in her veins. As the old man, Mr. Kim, drove into Rose with a stamina that defied his age and frame, Lisa’s eyes—dark with renewed hunger—scanned the scene. She wasn’t content to watch. The shared energy, the raw carnality of it, was a catalyst, pushing her need to an even higher, more desperate peak.
She moved behind Mr. Kim, her body pressing against his sweat-slicked back. Her hands slid over his bony shoulders, down his trembling sides, coming to rest on his hips. She could feel the powerful, rhythmic motion of his thrusts into Rose.
“That’s it,” Lisa purred into his ear, her voice a low, throaty growl. “Fuck our Rosie. Fill her up.” But her intentions were not merely observational. One of her hands slipped down, past his thrusting abdomen, her fingers seeking the place where his body joined Rose’s. She found Rose’s swollen, slippery clit and began to rub it in tight, frantic circles, matching the pace of his pounding.
Rose’s reaction was instantaneous. Her back arched off the carpet, a scream ripped from her throat that was half agony, half divine ecstasy. “LISA! YES! DON’T STOP! OH, FUCK, DON’T STOP!” Her internal muscles clamped down on Mr. Kim’s cock like a vice, the dual stimulation pushing her rapidly toward another shattering climax.
Lisa’s other hand continued its work on herself. She was fingering her own drenched pussy furiously, her hips grinding against the man’s back, using the friction of his skin and the sight before her to stoke her own pleasure. She was a maestro of debauchery, orchestrating everyone’s pleasure—his, Rose’s, and her own—in a filthy, perfect symphony.
Mr. Kim, overwhelmed by the sensations—the tight, clutching heat of Rose beneath him, the wicked skill of Lisa’s fingers on Rose’s clit, the feel of Lisa’s body writhing against his back—could hold back no longer. With a guttural, animalistic roar that seemed to tear from the very core of his being, he came. His thrusts became erratic, powerful jerks as he emptied what felt like a limitless supply of cum deep into Rose’s welcoming depths.
Rose’s second orgasm crashed over her simultaneously, triggered by his final, pulsing thrusts and Lisa’s relentless fingers. She convulsed beneath him, her cries muffled against his chest, her body shaking uncontrollably as she was filled.
But it wasn't over. The drug, his own shocking virility, and the sheer insanity of the situation refused to let it end. His cock, still buried inside a trembling Rose, remained hard.
Lisa saw her opening. Literally, she pushed him off of Rose, not with malice, but with a desperate urgency. Rose collapsed onto her side, gasping, a glistening trickle of his cum already seeping from her well-used pussy onto the carpet.
“My turn again,” Lisa breathed, her voice husky with intent. She didn’t wait for him to move. She pushed him onto his hands and knees. “Stay there.”
Mr. Kim obeyed, dazed and magnificent on all fours. Lisa positioned herself behind him. But she didn’t mount him. Instead, she looked at Rose, who was struggling to push herself up on wobbly arms, her eyes glazed but still burning with need.
“Rosie… come here,” Lisa commanded softly.
Rose crawled over, a beautiful, broken mess. Lisa guided her, positioning her on her hands and knees directly beneath Mr. Kim, so his rock-hard, cum-slicked cock was dangling just above Rose’s face.
“Clean him,” Lisa whispered. “Get him ready for me.”
Rose didn’t hesitate. She leaned up, her tongue snaking out, and began to lick him clean. She lapped up their combined juices from his shaft and balls with a soft, kitten-like devotion, her eyes locked on his. The sensation made him shudder, a low moan escaping his lips.
While Rose serviced him from below, Lisa moved into position behind him. She spat into her hand, slicking his shaft further, then guided him to her own entrance. As Rose’s mouth worked his length, Lisa sank down onto him, sheathing him fully inside her from behind.
The sensation was unbelievable for all of them. Mr. Kim was being sucked and licked by one world-famous superstar while fucking another from behind. Lisa began to move, setting a brutal, punishing pace. She rode him like a woman possessed, her hands gripping his hips for leverage, her nails digging into his skin. Each downward thrust was a statement of pure, unadulterated lust.
“You feel that?” she grunted, her voice strained. “You feel how deep you are in me? This is your cock now. It belongs to us.”
Rose, invigorated by the taste of them and the sight of Lisa taking him, increased her efforts. She took his balls into her mouth, sucking gently, then deep-throated him again, her head bobbing in counter-rhythm to Lisa’s thrusts.
The position was untenable, the pleasure too extreme. Mr. Kim’s arms gave out. He collapsed forward onto Rose, who was now pinned beneath him. His cock slipped from Lisa’s grasp for a moment, but she was on him in an instant.
“No, you don’t,” she snarled playfully. She rolled him over onto his back. Rose, now free, scrambled to straddle his face without a word being exchanged, lowering her dripping, cum-filled pussy onto his mouth. “Eat her,” Lisa ordered. “Eat your cum out of her.”
As his tongue delved into Rose’s sensitive folds, lapping at his own release, Lisa mounted him again. She slammed down onto his cock, cowgirl style, but leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest. She began to fuck him with a savage, unrelenting intensity, her breasts swaying in his face.
“Suck them,” she demanded, and he obeyed, tearing his mouth from Rose’s cunt to take a nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking as she rode him.
Rose, her head thrown back in pleasure from his tongue, reached behind herself. Her hand found his cock, guiding it into Lisa’s pounding pussy with each downward stroke, ensuring it hit the deepest, most sensitive spots.
They were a tangled, sweaty, moaning heap of limbs and orifices, a perfect machine of mutual gratification. The room was filled with the sounds of slapping skin, wet, sucking noises, and a constant, overlapping chorus of moans, grunts, and filthy, encouraging words.
It couldn’t last. The human body, even one fueled by a mysterious aphrodisiac, has its limits.
Mr. Kim came first, his third explosive orgasm triggering a chain reaction. His cry was muffled against Rose’s pussy as his hips bucked wildly upwards, pumping another massive load into Lisa’s clutching depths.
Lisa’s orgasm followed a split second later, triggered by the feel of his hot cum flooding her. She screamed, a raw, broken sound, and her body seized up, her back arching dramatically before she collapsed forward onto his chest, spasming uncontrollably.
The sensation of Lisa’s internal contractions around his oversensitive cock and the feel of Rose climaxing on his face was the final push for Mr. Kim. A final, weaker pulse of cum left him as he truly, finally spent. His body went limp, completely and utterly drained.
Rose fell off him, landing on the carpet beside them with a soft thud. She didn’t move. She couldn’t.
The three of them lay there in a broken heap amidst the ruins of the room and their own dignity. The only sound was their ragged, synced breathing. The chemical fire had finally, blessedly, burned itself out, leaving behind a profound, bone-deep exhaustion and the overwhelming evidence of their activities.
Slowly, languidly, moving as if through deep water, Rose stirred. She didn’t look at the old man with disgust or horror. The drug had forged a primal, intimate bond. She simply saw the source of her immense, world-shattering pleasure. She nudged Lisa, who grunted in response.
With a strength born of pure instinct, not energy, they both shifted. Lisa rolled off the man’s chest, and together, they curled into him. Rose nestled against one side, Lisa the other. They were all naked, covered in a glossy sheen of sweat, saliva, and multiple layers of his drying cum. The musky, sexual scent of their union was thick in the air.
They hugged him. Rose lay her head on his chest, listening to his racing heart slow to a steady, tired rhythm. Lisa threw a leg over his, her arm across his stomach, her face buried in his neck. They held him tightly, not as a lover, but as a cherished, integral part of the most intense experience of their lives. He was their conduit, their unexpected god of fuck, and in this post-coital, drugged haze, he was theirs to hold.
Within moments, the exhaustion claimed them completely. They fell into a deep, motionless, dreamless sleep, a tangled triad of spent bodies, the old janitor embraced by the two most famous women in the world, all of them too fucked-out to even twitch. 💤🌌🍆💦🌹💃👴