i wish sunmi and red velvet had more traction these days tbh the world needs more surrealist art and color palettes and sexy men lured into elaborate traps and witchcraft and mystery sapphic mansions and unsettling concepts
What would RV do to avoid getting caught while having a quickie?
Guessing anon
Irene
You pin Irene against the bathroom sink, her red satin outfit hiked up, legs wrapped around your waist. The stage lights still glow in your mind from her performance, but now it's just the dim fluorescent bulb above. She bites her lip hard, trying to muffle the whimpers as you thrust deep and steady. Her nails dig into your shoulders through your shirt.
"Shh, baby."
You whisper against her neck, tasting her sweat and perfume. She nods, eyes fluttering, but the next roll of your hips pulls a soft, broken moan from her throat.
Three sharp knocks rattle the door.
"Irene-ssi! The van's waiting. Hurry up for makeup!"
The voice of her manager cuts through her gasps and sighs.
Irene's breath hitches. She clenches around you tighter, savoring the risk of almost getting caught.
"J-just a minute!"
You smirk, grinding deeper. She gasps, head falling back against the mirror, long dark hair spilling everywhere. Another knock.
"Irene?"
She grins wickedly, rocking her hips to meet yours, chasing the edge despite the interruption.
"Almost... ready."
She pants, the lie as smooth as her trembling body. The thrill makes her pussy wetter and hotter. You feel her pulse racing under your palm on her throat.
One final, hard thrust and she shatters quietly, teeth sunk into your shoulder to stay silent. She lingers, kissing you slow and lazy while the manager grumbles outside.
"Coming."
Seulgi
Seulgi straddles you on her bed, dress bunched around her waist as she rides you with frantic, needy rolls of her hips. Her manager said he needed to use her bathroom and she took you back to her bedroom, unable to hide how badly she wanted you the second you walked in.
You grip her ass, thrusting up hard to match her rhythm. She moans , head thrown back, then freezes when heavy footsteps approach down the hallway.
“Seulgi-ya? You in there? We’re leaving for the schedule in ten! Have you seen the camera man?”
Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t stop, just slows to deep, grinding circles that make you groan under your breath.
“Y-yeah! Just… finishing up something! Almost ready!”
She yells back, very aware that she didn't answer his second question.
You smirk, sliding a hand between you to rub tight circles over her clit. She slaps her palm over her mouth to muffle the whimper.
“You sound weird. Everything okay?”
The doorhandle moves. You see the pure horror in Seulgi's eyes as she realizes she forgot to lock the door.
“I’m fine! Stretching! It’s… intense! Don't come in!”
She bounces faster despite her fear of getting caught, chasing the edge, thighs trembling around you.
“Five minutes or I’m coming in.”
The manager warns and Seulgi exhales shakily, then rides you harder, breasts bouncing under the thin fabric of her dress.
“Fuck, so close..."
You flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head, pounding deep and fast. She arches, cuming with a bitten off cry just as the manager knocks again.
She laughs breathlessly after, pulling you down for a messy kiss.
“Next time… I’ll lock it. Maybe.”
She winks, already reaching for the hem of her dress to make herself presentable again.
Wendy
Wendy stands inside her vocal booth, headset on, phone hidden underneath her music sheet. Her teacher drones instructions through the speakers.
"Higher, Wendy. Support from the diaphragm, hit that A5 clean."
But all she thinks about is you. She texted you twenty minutes ago.
"I need you. Now. Quick."
You slip in quietly when he isn't looking. She spreads her legs without a word. You kneel, push her skirt up, and bury your face between her thighs. She bites her lip as your tongue flicks over her clit.
"Relax your throat...breathe."
Wendy inhales sharply as you suck harder. Her voice cracks into a perfect, effortless high note.
"Good! That's it! Keep it going!"
You slide two fingers inside her, curling them. She hits another note, clearer, stronger than ever. Her free hand grips your hair, hips rocking subtly.
"Again, from the top!"
She sings, voice soaring, while you thrust your fingers faster. Your tongue moves relentlessy with perfect rhythm. Her thighs tremble. The note wavers into a soft, hidden moan that blends into vibrato.
She cums suddenly, clenching around your fingers, voice breaking into the highest, purest run she's ever hit.
The teacher praises her.
"Perfect resonance today!"
Wendy exhales shakily, smiling dazedly as you stand, kissing her neck. as her teacher checks the recording.
"Thanks for the... warm up."
She whispers, still flushed. You slip out before the teacher looks up.
Joy
Joy sits on your lap as you sit in the passenger seat of her parked car, phone pressed to her ear, arguing with her boyfriend again.
"No, I told you I'm stuck in traffic."
Your hand is already under her skirt, fingers teasing her through soaked panties. She shoots you a frustrated glare that melts into need.
"Joy? You there?"
"Yeah...bad signal."
She lies, spreading her legs wider. You push her panties aside and slide your cock, wet with her spit from earlier, inside her. She gasps, covering it with a cough. You thrust shallowly, careful not to rock the car too much. Her free hand grips the door handle white knuckled.
"I miss you too."
She says flatly to the phone, but her eyes lock on yours as you go deeper. A whimper escapes. She bites her lip hard.
"You're acting weird. Everything okay?"
"Fine! Just... bumpy road."
She rocks her hips subtly, meeting your thrusts, chasing the pleasure while pretending to listen. You speed up, thumb on her clit. Her voice cracks.
"Gotta go-tunnel!"
She hangs up fast, tossing the phone.
"Fuck him."
She growls, now actively bouncing on your cock. She rides you hard, moaning freely now.
"Only you make me feel this good."
Yeri
Yeri drags you into the back of her van between takes, door barely shut.
"Filming's stressing me out."
She whines, already tugging your belt open after pulling her shorts down just enough to expose her pussy.
"Fix it."
The director's voice crackles over her walkie-talkie.
"Yeri-ssi, five minutes! We need you on set!"
She ignores it, shoving you onto the cushioned bench and climbing on top. Her long hair falls like a curtain as she sinks down onto your cock, sighing in relief.
You grip her hips, thrusting up. She rocks fast, needy, biting her lip to stay quiet.
"Yeri! Where are you?"
"Coming!"
She calls sweetly, voice trembling as you hit deep. She grinds harder, chasing her high, ignoring the schedule.
"Two minutes or we're behind!"
She laughs, leaning down to kiss you.
"They can wait. This is priority."
You flip her under you, pounding her into the bench now. Her nails rake your back. The van rocks slightly. She giggles, then moans as you angle just right. The walkie buzzes again. She slaps it off, focusing on you.
"Harder."
You give it to her, fast and rough until she arches, cuming with a muffled cry against your neck. You finish inside her, you both panting.
