“Don’t talk to me like I’m the problem here!” Yuna groaned, rolling her eyes as she languished on the bed.
“You are, quite literally, the problem.” Her sister in sin, Lia, told the young woman. “How do you expect anyone to go out and enjoy themselves when you’re out there sucking the life out of everyone you talk to? And I mean sucking, we can all tell when someone dies from a blowjob.” Lia stood by the young succubus’s head, taking a deep breath as she stared down at Yuna. Yuna returned the stare with a pout, trying to prey on Lia’s weakness toward her. “No, I’m not helping you this time. You figure out your own way out.” Yuna kicked her feet against the bed. There was absolutely no way she’d be able to get out of the hellhole that was their home. The others constantly watched the entrances. If Yuna tried to walk out, she’d be stopped before she even got out of bed.
Yuna’s pout turned into a frown. She stayed still, staring back at Lia. “Yuna is angry.”
“Stop acting like a kid. You’re how old now?”
“Three hundred…” Yuna murmured.
“Exactly. It’s your own damned fault you’re in here. What kind of succubus in their right mind sucks the souls out of six people in one night…at the same place!”
Yuna’s cheeks puff out, “A good one,” she whispers. Lia manages to hear Yuna and inhales deeply, balling her fists in frustration before sighing. “It’s not my fault they all wanted me.”
“It is again, quite literally, your fault. You. Control. Your. Pheromones.” Lia was growing frustrated with the young woman. She rubbed her temples, a headache forming from talking with Yuna so much. “Just take the punishment. Stay in your room for the next 3 weeks. I have to go, I need an aspirin.” Lia stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her and leaving the young succubus alone. Yuna waited a moment, waiting until she couldn’t hear Lia’s footsteps anymore, before throwing a tantrum. She threw her pillows across the room, pounded against the bed before finally screaming into the mattress. Yuna wasn’t the problem; she was doing nothing wrong by sucking perverted men dry. It wasn’t her fault that they all thought her petite form was alluring and sexy. They came to her, and therefore, it was their fault they were drained. So what if Yuna had killed over thirty men in the past two weeks by draining them of their life essence? “I’ll show them. I can do whatever I want. I’m not a baby.” Yuna grumbled, putting on a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a crop top.
The young succubus peered through her window, spotting Lia and the others outside. She couldn’t use that way to escape. Yuna cracked the door to her room open, looking through the small opening to see if anyone was outside. “What are we going to do with this girl?” Yuna recognized the voice; Jihyo was standing guard outside. Yuna bit her thumb. The elder succubus wouldn’t let her take so much as a step out of her room.
Yuna waited by the door, hoping that Jihyo at some point would step away to go to the bathroom or something, but after an hour, that had proven to be more troublesome than Yuna wanted. She sat on the floor mulling over what she could do when an idea hit her. She gathered pillows, creating a dummy that she placed in her bed and covered with a blanket. “They’ll probably check to see if I’m here at some point.” Yuna waited under her bed until nightfall. When Jihyo came in to check on her and saw the sleeping dummy, Yuna overheard her say that they could relax a little more. The young succubus saw Lia and the others heading inside and waiting a moment before opening the window and stepping out onto the roof. She sneaked onto the lattice panels on the side of the house and climbed down as quickly as she could before scurrying off into the night.
Yuna smiled to herself, pleased that her escape had gone smoothly. She would do whatever she wanted, and upon hearing of a costume house party nearby, she had a new plan. She might not have had a costume per se, but she did have something she could work with. Yuna called upon her powers, transforming her form into that of a stereotypical succubus. Most of Yuna’s body was bare, with only small parts covered. It would’ve looked like she only had on a pair of black panties and a bikini top. It left nothing to the imagination; her perky breasts were held up by the top, nipples barely covered. Her panties, if you could even call them that, only covered her slit and asshole. A heart-shaped marking appeared over her crotch, and the finishing pieces were some devil horns and wings. Yuna was sure this look would drive the men wild.
Now set, she flew along rooftops until she found the house party. She floated down nearby and made sure to walk in, leaving both men and women gawking at her figure. Yuna loved the attention; it made her body grow hotter. She eyed every man, memories of the six men from before in her mind. She had loved fucking them. She could do the same here. The question for Yuna was who she would choose.
Yuna walked around the party searching for the perfect targets when she spotted a lonely cowboy sipping on her drink in the corner all alone. “Aw, so pitiful.” Yuna thought to herself, deciding that you would be one of the perfect targets. She walked over to you, “Why are you all alone?”
You peer up to see the sexy young woman talking to you. You gulp, stunned by her. “I-um, I don’t know anyone here.” You admit shyly. “I’m not really…” You quiet down, too embarrassed to complete your sentence. Seeing your overall patheticness, Yuna thought that you might be a good warm-up. She’d take pity on you and at least give you something to be happy about before she drained you dry.
She took a step closer to you and whispered in your ear, “Why don’t you and I go upstairs. I know there’s an open room.” Yuna had no clue if there was, but she’d make one to get through this. You blush at her invitation, but agree, it wasn’t every day a beautiful woman came to you. Yuna leads you through the crowd and to the upstairs of the house, finding a room for the two of you.
She locks the door behind you and pushes you onto the bed. “Strip for me,” Yuna orders. You rush to complete the task, figuring that if you didn’t, she’d just leave. Being able to control her form, Yuna took off everything, baring her bare body to you. Your cock springs to life at the sight of her petite body. Yuna chuckles as you try to cover yourself. “Lie back,” she tells you. The succubus climbs between your legs and nudges your hands. “Come on, don’t be shy.” She has to force your hands apart, but once your cock is out in the open, you let her do as she wishes.
Yuna grabs your shaft, stroking it slowly. “Why would you cover yourself? Is this your first time?” Yuna teased you, her soft hand moving up and down your shaft, causing precum to leak from the tip.
You nod quickly, “Yes,” you mumble.
“Really?” Yuna says, a smile growing on her face. The thought of fucking a virgin dry excited her.
“...yeah,” you admit. “C-could you lead?” You ask earnestly. The question tugs at Yuna’s heart. You were so pitiful, it was making her rethink things.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she said, pumping your cock slowly. “I’ll make sure you feel really good.” Yuna pressed her lips against the head of your cock, letting them sit there for a moment, “mwah. I’ll treat you well.” Yuna let saliva gather in her mouth, dripping it onto the tip and using it as lube as she continued to jerk you off. She watched you squirm as you struggled to hold it together. The pleasure from her soft hand was becoming too much; more precum gathered on the tip. You moan loudly as Yuna rubs the tip with her finger, gathering your precum.
Yuna licked her finger, a greedy smile forming on her lips as the salty liquid hit her tongue. Her body shook; the taste was just what she needed. She crawled over you, squatting just above your twitching shaft. Yuna could feel the heat coming off of you, her body shivering with anticipation. She brought her fingers down between her legs, rubbing her puffy lips. The young woman cocked her head to the side, “Are you sure you want this?” She asked, tapping her wet slit.
“Yes, yes, I’ll give anything.” You groan; her fellatio is not enough to satisfy you.
“Anything?” Yuna chirped. “Then I want you to be mine.”
“Deal, deal.” You repeat, not quite hearing what she said, but agreeing nonetheless. Yuna bit the tip of her fingernail. She wanted to tease you a little bit longer; she thought you were cute with your desperation. “Maybe I can keep this one alive…just a little bit longer,” Yuna thought to herself. She grabbed your cock, rubbing the sensitive head between her folds, coating it in her sweet nectar before she moved lower. Yuna engulfed the head, her warm walls squeezing you tightly from the beginning. You grip the bedsheets, moaning her name as she continues to lower herself. It felt like she was massaging you all over. You wouldn’t last very long with her. Yuna knew this, too. She relaxed her muscles as she landed squarely on your lap, your cock fully embedded inside her.
The young succubus placed her hand on the heart tattoo on her crotch, “You’re right here,” she moaned softly. Yuna leaned back, placing her hands on your thighs, dragging your cock out of her perfect cunt before sinking back onto it. The sight of your manhood disappearing in her was erotic and intoxicating. When Yuna took you inside, your eyes met that heart tattoo.
You wouldn’t be able to look at it much longer as Yuna sped up. She leaned forward to meet your eyes, however. Staring at you with a devious smile as she rides you quickly. You moan lustfully, shutting your eyes as you near your climax. Yuna felt your cock throb inside of her and slowed down. She didn’t want you to cum just yet. The succubus ran her hands up your side until she reached your chest. Her fingers flicked your nipples, watching for a reaction. When you squirmed, she smiled. It was just what she wanted. “Do you like me playing with them?” Yuna flicked both your nipples again before you could answer. “I think you do.” Yuna giggled as she continued to flick your nipples. She added to the pleasure you felt by leaning over you and running her tongue around it as she bounced on your cock.
Watching you squirm made her laugh. She continued riding you, barely noticing how close you were to cumming because of how focused she was on your reaction. Her eyes shot open as she felt your warm cum shooting into her as she bounced on your cock. She sat up straight and slowed down, coming to a complete stop. She glanced down before looking at you. You cover your face, breathing heavily, “I’m s-sorry. It just felt so good. You’re amazing,”
Yuna smiled, leaning down to kiss your cheek, rubbing it gently. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay,” she giggles. The young succubus found it a little pathetic that you came so quickly despite her efforts to keep you going. She saw you almost like a toy; it was endearing to see you cover your face in shame. She thought it would be better to keep you as a pet to play with. She didn’t want to drain you dry. Yuna let your cock soften, allowing it to plop out of you on its own. Your cum oozed out of her slit, painting her lips white as she rubbed it into her skin. “I think I like you,” Yuna moaned. She lay back between your legs, running her fingertip along the middle of your shaft, granting you some of her power and reinvigorating you. Yuna slides her fingers along your cock, coating them in your semen before gripping your shaft. She strokes your cock, eyeing you as you harden in her hand.
“I think it’s about time you did the work.” Yuna pushed more of her energy into you, wanting you at full strength when you fucked her. She brought her head down to the tip of your cock, swirling her tongue around it at an agonizingly slow rate. “You can keep going, right?”
“Yes!” You groan, eager to please the beautiful succubus.
The way you answer makes her giggle again. “Alright, don’t let me down.” Yuna nudges you to the side and lies down in the center of the bed. She watches you eagerly as you get between her legs. Yuna spread them a little further apart and spread her lips apart, giving you a shy look as you grab your cock, stroking it mere inches from her perfect cunt. You look at Yuna nervously, unsure when to begin. Yuna blushes slightly, the confused expression on your face too cute.
“L-let me help you.” Yuna scooches closer to you and grabs your cock, aligning it with her entrance. “Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Yuna took a deep breath and waited, feeling you slowly push past her slick folds and inside her. She moans softly, letting herself enjoy the experience. A small part of her wants to make you go wild. She stays patient, though, somewhat enjoying the difference in how you were handling her. You gripped her waist softly and made small thrusts, slowly pushing more of your cock inside.
“C-can I kiss you?”
Yuna pursed her lips, blushing at the innocent question. “Sure,” she eeked out. You lean in and press your lips against hers, enjoying the softness as your lips lock. Yuna moans into the kiss; the intimacy of your sex makes her heart beat faster. The young woman wraps her arms and legs around you, keeping you close as you continue to kiss her. The softness of your lovemaking was odd to Yuna. She felt strange at her core. She bit your bottom lip, planting you with more of her energy, wanting to change the flow. You feel a rush of energy coursing through you and a new hunger rising within you. You begin thrusting faster, and your grip moves down to Yuna’s thighs. You squeeze them tightly as you slip your tongue into her mouth.
Yuna moans, enjoying the increased energy. This was more her style. You use her body roughly, driving your cock deeper into Yuna. The petite woman squeals, the pleasure she feels growing stronger.
You break the kiss and shift to her neck, sucking on it and marking Yuna’s pristine skin. Yuna throws her head back, moaning loudly while her legs lock tightly behind you. “Harder, keep going,” she whispers into your ear. You follow her instructions to a T. She moans louder as you drive her into the bed, your left hand wanders to her perky tit, squeezing the small mound. Yuna whines as you begin to push her to her climax. Her walls squeeze down on your cock. The fact that you hadn’t cum yet surprised both of you. Sweat connects your bodies, making your bodies slick. Yuna’s hair sticks to her forehead; the sight of the petite woman going through the throes of pleasure in such a state fuels your desire for her. You push yourself to do more, thrusting faster. You watch the hypnotic bounce of her tits, slowly coming closer to her hard nipples until you nibble on them. Yuna arches her back, pushing her chest out as the tightness in her core keeps coiling.
The succubus begins to whine. She bites her lip, trying to contain herself. Your continued thrusts push her over the edge. You orgasm together. Yuna’s body is shaking as you spill your seed into her. Yuna’s walls clamp down on your cock, squeezing you tightly, milking you for every drop left in your balls. You moan loudly, all your energy leaving you as you leave everything to Yuna. Her feet push you deeper, like she was desperate for your cum. Even while her mind was racked by pleasure, Yuna gained enough clarity to stop herself from killing you. It was tough on the succubus, but she had grown to like you. She caressed your hair as you remained buried inside her. She kept your legs locked around your waist, refusing to give you up. You passed out in Yuna’s arms, exhausted from all your orgasms.
Yuna kept holding you minutes after you finished cumming, the warmth from your body oddly satisfying to her. “So this is where you were.” The words make Yuna jump. She looks toward the direction the voice came from, spotting Lia in the window. “I should have guessed you came here. It would be easy to target someone from here. I’m surprised you only got one person. Not hot enough?”
“Shh!” Yuna held her finger to her lips, glancing at your sleeping form before looking back at Lia. “For your information, I could have had all the guys if I wanted to,” the succubus glances at you again. “I just thought this one was cute,” she mumbles, a little embarrassed to admit how she felt. Lia covers her face and laughs. “Come on, it’s not funny!”
“It’s just I never expected you to fall in love with a human. I always thought it would be Chaeryeong.” Lia says, continuing to try to stifle her laugh. The older woman was nearly falling from the window frame.
Yuna pouts, “I’m not in love.”
“So says the succubus cuddling her lover,” Lia says, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Is he even alive?”
“Yeah, I made sure to stop.”
“So you do love him?” Lia replies. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have spared him.”
“I- shut up.” Yuna looks away from the older woman. “He’s my pet, is all,” Yuna said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.
“Mm, well, whatever you say. At least there isn’t a dead body this time.” Lia turned to jump out the window, but not before giving Yuna a final message. “I’m kind of impressed. Not with falling in love with a human, but with managing not to kill someone. I’ll try to leave out that first detail when I tell the others.” Lia jumps out the window, disappearing into the night.
“No wait!” Yuna shouted, reaching out for the now-gone demon. She lay her head back against the bed. Yuna just knew the tongue-lashing she would get when she got home would be a terrible one. She couldn’t even enjoy having you sleep on her chest anymore…well, as much. “I didn’t even kill him. I’m not the problem,” Yuna mumbled to herself, enjoying her last moments of freedom for a while.
You closed the book you were reading. "Great, just give me a..."
Gaeul walked to her dresser in a full set of black lingerie: a lacey babydoll bra that clung to her petite chest, barely draping her slim waist, and a pair of knickers that hugged her hips and exposed her lean thighs.
If your jaw could physically fall on the floor, it would have that very instant.
"Give you a what?," she asked nonchalantly.
"You... I... uh...," you fumbled, stuck in a moment of awe. Even if your eyes were plastered to her body, you were too distracted to notice walking towards you, until her barely exposed bellybutton was in front of you.
She pulled your chin up and lightly patted the side of your face. "Focus, baby. You were saying?," she said with a mischievous smile.
"I was gonna, uh, say I will... take a bath now...," you muttered, immediately running to the bathroom. Gaeul laughed as you scrambled away.
You've seen Gaeul in all manner of clothing – nothing at all included – but this was its own masterpiece.
When you got out of the bathroom, Gaeul lay on the bed scrolling through her phone. Her legs were crossed, smooth, waxed, and in full view, and her babydoll now falling to her sides, exposing her toned abdomen. But the real kicker were her half-moon reading glasses – a pair you've never seen before – that completed her seductive look.
Your erection pressed against the towel draped around your waist, fully visible. You tried to hide it behind your hands, though you weren't quite sure she hadn't noticed the reaction already.
You inhaled through your teeth. "Okay, what's all this?"
"What's what, honey?," she asked innocently.
"I've literally never seen you wear that."
Gaeul closed her book and sat on the side of the bed, crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on the bed. The black lace accentuated the porcelain skin on her shoulders, midriff, and thighs.
"Now you are," she replied.
You walked up to her and dropped your towel in a single motion, flicking off your dick as it pooled on the floor.
"Already?," she cooed.
"Ever seen me sleep in this?," you taunted. She bit her lip and leaned forward, head in her hands.
"Not enough," she purred, sliding a single finger under your shaft. You shivered and buckled your knees at the arousal – and Gaeul giggled approvingly, kissing your tip. You shivered as she tenderly wrapped her lips around your tip.
She let go of you with a string of saliva tethered to her lip. "You sleep like this around me, I'm gonna buy more lingerie to sleep in."
"Deal," you challenged. She stood up to meet your lips, her fingertips lightly brushing around your shaft.
"Maybe it'd even be fun to not fuck you if I did," she teased. "Just feel you get hard to me. Feel your erection on my skin."
You pushed her back on the bed aggressively, making her splay wide open on the bed. You grabbed the bottle of lube on a bedside table and tossed it beside her. "Try that and I'll rip the pair you're wearing on the spot," you growled.
Gaeul shot a scowl at you, protectively covering her chest. "Hey! These things cost a lot more than you think."
You flinched. "Okay, rewind." You crawled on top of her, pinning her wrists down to the mattress. "Try that and I'll... oh, whatever."
You made out with Gaeul with gusto, cold saliva pooling on the sides of your lips, dripping down to hers.
"You're fucking eager," Gaeul purred.
"God, of course, how could I not when you look so fucking hot," you confessed. Gaeul smirked, worming her wrists from under your grasp. She grabbed the bottle you tossed and rubbed her hands generously with it, slowly dragging her hands down your chest.
"Keep talking," she replied, pulling your chin down to push your foreheads together. She slid her hands downward, wrapping her slender fingers around your dangling length and jerking upwards. You instinctively started bucking your hips, humping her hands. "Don't let me distract you."
"You look so fucking good, babe," you groaned, her stroking just slow enough to have you begging for more with your breath. "Do you... like wearing it?"
She chuckled. "Hell yes. You're so fucking easy and I love it."
"Thanks? Sounds like you're making fu–"
Gaeul stroked harder, with a firmer grasp and a faster pace. "Keep going."
You gritted your teeth. "Have I ever... told you how much I love your... legs?," you said nonchalantly.
Gaeul's ongoing attempt to seduce you completely broke down into laughter. "Hon, what the actual fuck," she chortled. "You're making this so hard!"
"Don't let me distract you," you mocked in a singsong voice. Gaeul rolled her eyes and made out with you again, likely an endearing way of saying "shut the fuck up."
You sat up and slid your hands down to her hips, trying to find a hem to undo. A fair 10 seconds of failed attempts later, Gaeul yet again broke into laughter.
"Hon, I swear, you're making me regret wearing this," she whined.
"You said it was expensive!," you rebutted. "I'm trying my best here."
"Just play with my clit through the fabric, will you?"
"That doesn't sound very hygienic."
"I'll clean it," she growled.
You rammed your middle finger into her clit, the fabric warm and damp to the touch. Gaeul's annoyance quickly shifted to pleasure, taking a deep, moaned breath in and out as you began to stimulate her.
"Oh yeah," she moaned. "That feels different."
"Different bad?"
"Different good," she furrowed her brows. "Stop ruining the moment."
You adjusted your position such that you locked Gaeul between your thighs. Being significantly bigger, you loomed over her frame. It was almost fun to handle her.
Just like now, as you grabbed her chest with your other hand. You searched for her nipple – very easy to feel through the lace – and began toying with the tender node between your fingers.
Gaeul, formerly in control, was now entirely in your grasp. She squirmed, craving for your finger to go in deeper, for your gentle flicking around to be more aggressive.
Last nail in the coffin was diving in to suck her other nipple with your tongue. You wet the fabric easily with spit (how could you not, Gaeul looking like an absolute work of art had you salivating), flicking your tongue just enough to break her demeanor.
"Fuck this," she exclaimed, gathering the strength to flip you over. She sat firmly on your erection, feeling the moistness permeate through the fabric. "You gonna tease me like that? I'll show you a tease."
She turned around, to reveal what you just now realized you hadn't seen: the babydoll and her lingerie exposed most of her lower back, low enough that you could see the dip leading down to her ass.
"Touch me and the deal's off."
"Okay," you whimpered.
Gaeul slid off the strap of her babydoll on the left, then the right, rolling her shoulders to let them fall onto your belly. She rubbed her hands up her waist, feeling up her skin and spreading more of the lube over her.
She shifted her legs to half-squat on the bed, swaying her hips as she slowly removed her knickers, forcing out a moan from you as she ground on your cock. Gaeul giggled as she finally removed the last pieces of clothing on her skin. She looked over with low, sultry eyes, smirking behind her shoulder.
"How about I stroke you like this?," she taunted. "Not so fun now, huh?"
"You'd be getting me off to your ass. And your back and your shoulders. Not a problem."
"I know, but– okay, yeah, but like– oh, for fucks' sake," she scoffed, slapping your erection fully.
"Ow! What the fuck?!," you yelped.
Gaeul turned around, her bare tits pushed up by her crossed arms. She had a scowl on her face, but your eyes strayed downwards to her toned abs, her cute bellybutton, and the very light tuft above her pussy. Whatever she slapped out of you came right back up your shaft just by ogling at her. This was not something she caught, pushing you back down onto the bed when you tried to sit up to kiss her.
"Babe, please," you chuckled.
"No. What's the point of trying to seduce you if you just make fun of me?," she complained.
You sat yourself up again, leaning on your hands. "Because, babe, you don't even have to try when you make me famished just be looking at you and you're a whole damn meal."
Gaeul's cheeks flushed. She broke her stare into your unwavering gaze, visibly flustered by the comment. "Shut up," she purred, "and lie down."
Gaeul pulled you in for a deep, sloppy kiss, her tongue frantically pushing up on yours, any and all inhibitions thrown aside. Without warning, she let go of your lips and hovered her clearly drenched panties over your head.
"I'm afraid that you might actually kill me, Gaeul," you warned. You imagined her rolling her eyes as she removed her panties, exposing her moist, glistening folds before your eyes.
When she finally sat on your face, she let out a chesty hum, vibrating throughout her as you urged every muscle on your face to fully devour her pussy.
"Mmm, your tongue feels so fucking good," she purred.
"Mmm-mmm mmm mmm mmm–" you attempted to retort, only making Gaeul laugh.
"Hon!," she squealed, tickled by your mumbling and freeing your mouth to deliver your response.
You licked your lips. "Delicious. Even more than when I call you hot?"
She pinched your cheek aggressively. "Definitely more." She rode you again, bickering now set aside for a single goal: get her juices in your mouth, and get her to cum as hard as you could make her.
"Oh fuck, yes, that feels so good, don't you fucking stop," Gaeul moaned, whining your name with every lick and suck you made. All you could do was moan into her core, your cock painfully erect from hearing – and tasting – her pleasure. And that was no challenge at all, gladly helping yourself to her folds and slit, letting all her juices flow down your cheeks. She moaned and groaned, and still you were left there, cock begging for stimulation.
"Fuck this," you said, pushing her of your mouth. "I wanna fuck you so bad."
Gaeul smirked, rubbing her still damp core over your chin, chest, and belly, until she sat on top of your throbbing shaft. The heat and the slick was one thing, but Gaeul swaying her hips side to side and in circles over your cock was another, more unbearable thing.
"Let's try this again, shall we?," she smiled, lubing her hands up once again. She massaged her breasts, fingers impressed into both mounds. She moved her hands slowly down her abdomen and her navel – arguably your favorite part of her – down to her womb. With a single finger, she rubbed the underside of your tip, keeping the slit sensitive.
You felt yourself try to thrust, humping into nothing, and Gaeul prolonged her torment, even leaning back entirely to tighten the waist she knew you loved so much.
"Say it again," she commanded.
"I wanna fuck you so bad."
She reached around and massaged your balls. "So heavy. Say it again, baby."
"Stop fucking teasing," you groaned, teeth gritted.
Gaeul leaned into your ear. "Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh!," she moaned exaggeratedly, the erotic tone of her voice only keeping you rock hard. "God, hon, you're so easy."
In one go, Gaeul took your entire length, and the sensory overload might as well have been an out-of-body experience. You loudly gasped for air, making Gaeul laugh hard. Even in a candid moment, just the view of her petite breasts jiggling against her smooth abdomen kept you turned on.
You were just about ready to get up and toss her onto the bed before she started riding you aggressively. And she meant business, hammering herself into your hips loud, wet plaps that kept every inch of your cock wrapped in her tight yet slippery grip. This time, the moans were real.
"Fuck, the things I'd do for this dick," she laughed, hair swaying about as she leaned over you. "Make me wear lingerie for this dick, keep myself waiting for this dick–"
"Laugh at my jokes for this dick?," you joked, still gritting your teeth to mask your pleasure. Gaeul squealed with a nod.
You moved your hands to her hips, attempting to guide her speed; yet no matter how much you tried, she was determined to wring every last ounce of ecstasy out of you, and far too many times were you merely throwing your head back, hands grabbing the sheets, groaning as you fought back every urge to release.
"You're so fucking hot, Gaeul," you stared into her. "So perfect and so good."
"Fuck, I love you", she gasped, "love this cock, love your lame jokes, love how stupid you make me feel about you– fuck, I wanna cum so bad!"
"Cum for me, Gaeul," you groaned. "Cum all over me. Don't hold back–"
"No– fuck– cum together– please!"
Shockingly, the request was almost instantaneous. You felt your hips raise on their own, your shaft slowly run with fluid, before bursting into Gaeul – which all came out on your shaft thanks to her own wet orgasm.
The both of you twitched and groaned, tossing and turning at the shared stimulation. By the end of it, Gaeul laid on top you, collapsed with your length still very much inside her. You tried to reach over slowly to pull it out, but Gaeul suddenly swayed her hips again. Instinctively you bucked forward and she yelped, gripping on your arms by her nails. The sudden pain made you toss her off to the side, still giggling at your finale.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," you laughed weakly. "So fucking in love with you."
Gaeul's chest rose and fall as she stared up into the ceiling with you. "I love you too, hon."
Laying down in the silence, Gaeul turned to you, eyes twinkling. "Guess what, hon."
"Yeah?"
"I have three more pairs ready," she teased, a mischievous grin hidden as she bit her lip. "And I kinda wanna give you a lapdance next time." You felt your cock twitch, tuckered out but still very excited.
"Maybe tomorrow," you sighed. "No promises I won't motorboat you if you do though."
Even if you shielded against her annoyed slap, it still stung.
A/N: Prompt for @kwilquib. Thank you so much for hosting!
Enjoy.
This was quite possibly the dumbest idea you’ve ever agreed to.
You’ve been staring at mahogany for the past three minutes, fidgeting with the box of air that you call the pizza box in your hand and tugging at the collar of your shirt.
It’s a door. Your door. The one that came with the house you bought. Leading to your home. To your wife. Your Chaeryeong, your Chaery, the love of your life who just so happens to be at the other end of it, waiting for you to knock. You’ve done the action of opening it, closing it, locking it, so on and so forth so many times and yet, knocking is what throws you off.
Seriously, why bother knocking when you own the damn place, but here you are. Forced to knock for the sake of satisfying her curiosity.
And you’ll do anything for your wife.
Even at the cost of your dignity.
You sigh, your hand knocking on the wood. One, two—
“You sure took your time getting here.” The door opens to reveal your wife, dressed in a camisole that you knew was a size smaller and a pair of shorts that showed off those thighs you simply adored. She leans against the doorframe, hair over one shoulder and her lips curled in a smirk.
“Hi. I-uh, yo-your-uh,” you cough, swallow, avoid contact for a second before looking straight back at her, avoiding looking anywhere near down. Trying to get into character, as she so eloquently told you earlier. “Your pizza’s here. It’s uh, it’s fifteen bucks in total–”
“Oh no!” she gasps like the drama queen she’s trying to be. “I forgot to get my wallet!”
“I can wait here–”
“You should come in, please.” Her finger starts tapping her chin before slipping between her teeth, a grin spreading across her face.
“And it’s late too!” she adds, her hand clutching your arms. “It’s dangerous to drive back all alone, and you must be so tired from driving so far out just for me.”
It was two in the afternoon. And you live here.
She’s enjoying this way too much.
“Just, you know, doing my job,” you chuckle meekly, clutching the empty cardboard in your hands like some teenager on his first job. “All you need to do is–”
“Let this big, strong pizza delivery boy come inside,” she finishes for you, giving your arms a squeeze before taking the pizza box from your hands, making sure to brush her fingers against yours, and stepping to the side, grin still on her face with a little bite of her lip to ‘sell’ the entire thing. “I insist.”
You do an awkward shuffle, lips fighting back against the grin that threatens to betray the show you two are performing.
“I-I wouldn’t want to-uhm, intrude so late in the night.”
Her laugh gets you. You don’t know if it’s for keeping the act up or because she genuinely finds you hilarious doing this whole shtick with her. She puts a hand on her cheek, tilting her head like she’s swooning at how adorably stupid you must look right now.
“It’s no problem. Gotta pay for the food anyway,” she teases, a giggle managing to escape from her lips. “Maybe even a nice, thick tip for being so brave delivering pizzas.”
Yeah, definitely too much.
Before you can ‘think’ of another excuse, you’ve been pulled inside to your living room. The same place where you two have Friday movie nights, the same place where you had pepperoni pizza for lunch, and the same place where this entire idea was born out of boredom.
“Sorry for the mess.” She goes ahead and places the empty box down on the coffee table, pushing some empty glasses and plates to the side. “I had some friends earlier and forgot to clean up.”
You can’t tell if that was a jab at you or not.
She makes sure to bend over right there in front of you, giving you a free view of her ass. The very ass that you’ve buried your face into countless times while her thighs wraps around your head.
She takes her time straightening up, giving a little twirl to face you and stretches her arms above her head, that camisole riding up to show her midriff, her breasts straining the top. She adds an over the top moan that was totally unnecessary and places her hands behind her back to give a little (a lot) more emphasis to her chest before walking up to you.
Now, your wife is hot—that’s simply facts. Years of sleeping next to her and with her has made you memorize every single inch of her body as if it was the back of your hand. You’ve seen her in the skimpiest clothing and had the pleasure of peeling it off her one by one. Especially stockings off of her thighs.
That fucks you up more than anything.
But somehow, the casual fit she has on is frying your brain. The hints of skin showing underneath the top, her chest making the fabric rise for god’s sake, those damn shorts that accentuate the curve of her ass and showing off the pillows you call her thighs—you’ve slept on them before—and it is unfair how she looks better in this than most of the things she’s worn.
Maybe this is a good idea after all.
“How much do I owe you again?” She leans forward, the neckline of her top dipping, her cleavage in full view. Combine that with the smell of musky vanilla and you are hooked.
God what the fuck—
“F-fifteen for the pizza,” you answer, not hiding the fact that you’re staring at her tits anymore.
She’s leering, eyeing you up and down before easing back and smiling with mock innocence. “Okay!”
She slips past you, making sure to get really close, chest almost smothering your arm and her fingers brushing against yours as she gets to the kitchen counter to get your ‘payment’. You don’t really know if she’ll actually give you cash since your eyes are glued to the sway of her hips, the jiggle of her thighs, the–
“Payment for the manly delivery boy.” She hands you tissue paper. Four, to be exact. You can’t help but let stare at them for a moment before letting a sigh out of your lips. Really?
“With a little extra. Think I can get your tip next?”
Alright, now she's laying it on a bit too thick. But this was getting a bit too entertaining to put a stop to.
“My boss will kill me if I don’t get back–”
“You shouldn't leave! It’s so late and it started raining!”
The skies were clear, you're pretty sure you heard birds chirping outside before you came in, and she’s undeniably bullshitting.
“Damn, it did start raining.” You play along, looking annoyed at the ‘rain’ that was pouring over the windows. “I guess I should stay here for now then.”
“You definitely should,” she nods, very enthusiastic about it all. A grin featured on her face, her eyebrows are wagging, and she’s bouncing on her toes. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
“I think the couch is good enough for me,” you say, giving her a sheepish smile. Still ‘in character’ even if you’ve wanted to drop the act since you knocked on your door.
Chaeryeong doesn’t care. Or at least, she can’t be asked to since she’s pretty adamant on getting you in bed rather than the couch. She gives you another half-assed excuse (something about hospitality) to get you to the bedroom, hands grabbing your wrists, tugging you gently towards your room with a grin on her face.
“I’d be such a bad hostess if I let you sleep on the couch,” she says, taking you upstairs.
Admittedly, the couch was comfortable enough to sleep on. It survived worse. Such as when you and her fuck on it.
It’s only when you hear the creaking of a door opening that you realize that she’s brought you to your bedroom. “After such a long, hard drive you should be sleeping on the bed–”
She pauses, eyes darting between you and the bed like you did something to it (you made the bed this morning). She even takes a step back from you, letting go of your ‘big, strong’ arms—her words, not yours—and in comes another act.
“Oh no!” she gasps, a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and staring straight at you with such a scandalized expression your lips twitch. You try your damnedest to prevent yourself from laughing at how absurdly cringe she’s acting right now. “There’s only one bed! Whatever will we do?”
The guest room was right next door. She knows this. You know this. You also know she’s mixing up the tropes for the fun of it.
Not like it matters anymore when you’re so close to being able to strip away this delivery boy act. But alas, you must carry on.
“Really, the couch is fine. I’m used to it.” You scratch the back of your head. You’ve stopped pretending at this point, and you’re just running out of things to say.
“Is there any way I can convince you to stay?” She’s back to pressing up against you, eyes looking up at yours, hands resting at your belt, all with that smirk on her face.
It’s funny how she can make up more excuses that no longer make sense to the narrative that you started with. And you can’t lie, she’s doing a pretty good job at acting.
She keeps up with the shocked expressions, the exaggerated gasps, the wide eyes, yet her hands are still sending waves of pleasure down your crotch, her tongue comes out to lick her lips, and her chest is really fucking distracting.
The entire thing is so ridiculously stupid it’s crazy how you haven’t broken down in laughter since the beginning. Though she makes it really hard not to when she’s been teasing you with the peeks of skin and palming your cock.
Chaeryeong leans in, close enough for your noses to touch. She gives you her best set of ‘fuck me’ eyes, bites her lip, and gives you a squeeze.
Then she asks you one question, because of course she had to pull that line out.
“Is that sausage for me?”
You smile, let a chuckle leave your mouth before you rein it back in, your hands taking hold of her waist. You can tell she was cringing at the words that left her mouth when she closed her eyes and pursed her lips to stop herself from doing the same thing.
“Shut it,” she mutters, a hand momentarily leaving your pants to pinch your arm.
“It was kinda funny,” you reply, leaning down to give her a peck on the lips.
She leans into the kiss, deepening it when her tongue slides against your lips for a quick taste before pulling away. “No, it wasn’t.”
The smile on her face says otherwise, but you’ll roll with it.
She walks backward, fingers hooked around your belt to bring you along until she drops back on the bed, resting her hands on your thighs and looking up to you with a tilt of her head.
“Are you gonna give me your sausage now, mister delivery boy?”
You don’t get a chance to reply since she’s already unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants. Her excitement shows now, outshining the persona she’s all but given up on when her eyes light up, her thighs press together and she starts wetting her lips because the only thing left between her and what she’s been longing for was a single button.
And when she finally pops it open and drags your pants and underwear down in one go, her gaze drops down to your cock, hard and throbbing and oh fuck she’s already on you.
Chaeryeong wasn’t one for pleasantries anymore; even with your hands running through her locks she’s ravenous, bobbing up and down your length. She’s sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing as her hands pump at whatever’s left of your cock that isn’t inside her mouth.
“Fuck, Chaery–”
It’s taking everything you can not to buck your hips, to lose control and hold her in place while you use her throat. She’d love it too, yet she doesn’t give you the option when she tries to take you deep in her throat.
Keyword: tries.
She struggles, sputters all over your cock, drooling as she braces her hands on your thighs, her wet mouth almost enveloping your entire length before her gag reflex kicks in and forces her back with a gasp. Spit connects her lips to your tip, and you watch it drip down her chin and fall to her chest, seeping into her top.
“I think that’s enough foreplay,” she says, leaning back and hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She’s still making a show of it, stretching her legs upward, shimmying her shorts off. The fabric peels off her thighs, over her knees, reaching her ankles where she gives it a little flick away. “I needed this cock in me ever since we started.”
“You were the one who suggested this whole thing.” You fumble with your pants, toeing off your shoes, before you pause. Her panties had a damp patch right in the center. The sight alone makes you twitch and strip faster.
“And while I adored having my delivery boy come in,” she teases, legs spreading, giving you a clear idea of how wet she actually is. “I would love it more if my husband would fuck me already.”
As tempting as that sounds, you wanted a little foreplay of your own.
You get on your knees, taking a hold of her thighs and pulling her towards you, her frame bouncing lightly off the bed. Your hand starts to caress one of them, loving how it flexes under your touch. Another comes down to give that wet patch a little rub, and a little whimper comes out of her.
“Please,” she says, her thighs flexing under your touch. “Need it, need you–”
You take hold of the soaked fabric and ease it down her thighs, her hips lifting up to help you. It slides down so smoothly, so quickly past her knees, her feet. You shrug it off one, letting it hang off one ankle before it falls down her leg.
“Patience, princess.” She positively preens whenever she hears you call her that, sinking down the mattress. “You can wait like the good girl I know you are.”
She lets out another whimper, all that confidence, that bravado she had earlier slowly cracking with a few simple words that turns her into putty in your hands. She bites her lip, stopping herself from saying something that would make her come apart completely. “Can I get my reward for being a good girl?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Your fingers trace her lips, rubbing her clit slowly, licking your lips at how her pussy glistens with her juices. Her scent is intoxicating, your own lips getting wet from how much you want to have a taste. “Have you earned it yet?”
The nickname sends a shiver this time, chest rising and falling shakily. You know her composure’s fallen when she starts to roll her hips at you and starts to mutter something under her breath.
You hum, pushing a digit inside her and the cry she lets out is heavenly. “Speak louder, princess.”
“I have!” Chaeryeong lets out, hands reaching out to grip the sheets. She uses it to push herself up, a strap falling down her shoulder as wide eyes stare straight at you. “I earned it! Stop teasing already, I want you inside me, please please I want it, I want it, Iwantit–”
“Look at you,” you smile, pressing your thumb down on her clit while your finger pumps slowly inside her. “So eager already. You don’t want to have a little more fun first?”
You add a second finger in, her wet heat so tight around them. She’s grinding against you now, desperate for you, your fingers, your cock.
“But I was so good earlier–” she cries, “I did so well, did my best. I deserve it, don’t I? Please, let me have your cock, pound me right here on the bed and fill me up. I’ll take it all, take you like a good girl would. Please, daddy, please!”
It’s that one damn word that gets you. Daddy. She only ever calls you that on special occasions, and every time she says it it makes you want to fuck her the way she wants to be ruined.
And you’ll do anything for your wife.
You slip your fingers out of her, the wet schlick making her whine. Her walls clench around nothing, her arousal running down her folds.
“Open up, princess,” you tell her, bringing your fingers closer to her mouth. “And suck.”
Chaeryeong obeys, darting her tongue out to have a lick before her mouth wraps around them, sucking needily. Her eyes never left yours, pleading, begging you for more praise.
“That’s a good girl,” you flatter, popping your fingers away and giving them a quick lick of your own, tasting whatever was left of her juices on them.
It’s the sight that gets you. That tight shirt straining her chest, straps falling down her shoulders, her tits spilling out of them, waiting to be squeezed and sucked on. Her legs part wider for you before she crawls backward onto the bed. Not to escape you, but to bring you right where she wants it, where she wants you to be.
Your shirt comes off before you crawl onto the bed, meeting her before she reaches the pillows. She’s right underneath you now, and her parted legs welcome you. Your cock presses up against her core, and gasps fill the air. Yours, hers, the heat was already too much, too inviting. You don’t think she knows her hips have started grinding against your length.
“Please give me your cock.” Oh, she definitely knows. “Please, daddy–”
You lift her legs higher, making her panties fall down to her thigh before spreading her wide. You have half a mind to take it off her and shove it in her mouth. Imagining how she’d let out these muted cries while you rail her.
Yet the dirty words that flow out of her mouth are like music to your ears. ‘Please’, ‘daddy’, ‘cock’—three different words all repeated like a mantra, combining with all the ways she tells you how much she wants it, reminding you that she’s a good girl. Your good girl.
She’s panting, trembling, begging for you to fill her up. She’s almost willing it into existence when you line yourself up, your cockhead grinding against her soaked entrance, her juices smearing your tip.
“Is this what you want?” you tease, flicking up and down her folds, her mewls chipping away at your patience, the urge to debase her growing higher and higher.
Chaeryeong nods, humming her agreement. eyes closed and lips biting back her moans. Her shirt, that damn shirt, is sticking to her like skin, neckline dipped down from the fallen strap that one good tug at it would reveal those beautiful tits.
But you can't have her like that. Not quietly writhing under you. You want her loud, pleading. You want your needy princess back, so you let her simmer a bit more.
“Let me hear you say it, Chaery. Let me hear you beg for it one more time.” You give a little push, her lips taking you in, ending when your tip disappears inside her. And holy shit was she so wet you were trying damn hard not to go all the way.
“Fuck, d-daddy, please fuck me. I-it’s not enough, I want more, want all of it in me, p-please, please. I’ll be your good little girl, your good little princess to use–” She’s trying her best to take your length in herself, her hand coming down to your shaft to urge you deeper. “Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease–”
When she realizes she can’t, she gives you these quick pumps to convince you instead. Every stroke was frantic, messy, her own attempts to get you to lose control both a success and a failure at the same time.
And when you finally, finally, push forward, she lets out this drawn out cry of relief. You push inside her slowly, letting her heat consume you bit by bit, her walls pulsing around your shaft. Her hands shoot out to grip the sheets, her head rolling back in pleasure.
“God, daddy, you’re so fucking big,” she says, eyes closing, reveling in the the way you fill her.
“All for you, princess,” you say, bottoming out inside her. You let go of her thighs, using your body to trap her instead, hands cupping her cheeks, and you're so close to her. You take a minute to look at her, her almost angelic features transfixed in this state of need, of ecstasy, and suddenly you lose all other thoughts.
You stop moving altogether to watch her slowly open her eyes, full of desire that simmers when a moment of clarity hits her. “Daddy?”
“You’re so beautiful, Chaery.” You didn’t even mean to say it right then and there, yet the words come out anyway. There was no lie in them, not when words fail to express how radiant she looks beneath you.
Desire gets overtaken with this fondness for a moment, a loving smile on her face as she reaches a hand up and caresses your cheek. “Thanks, love.”
Chaeryeong gives you a kiss that tells you everything. Her lust, her love for you. Her playful appreciation for going along with her joke of an acting scene. You give it all back with the same intensity, crashing it all down into her.
She pulls away from you, that fondness gone from her irises, perversion coming back in full force as she licks her lips and whispers a singular word. “More.”
Your hands move by themselves, pulling the straps of her top down her arms, slipping lower and lower until the fabric slides down enough for you to pull it down. Her breasts spill free, soft and succulent and perfect that you let yourself have a rough squeeze.
She gasps, a curse coming out of her lips as you knead her flesh, giving her nipple a quick pinch before giving it a slap. Moans begin to spill out of her as the pain of the slaps settle in, coupled with how you’ve been throbbing inside her for god knows how long and she’s beginning to lose herself once again to your hold.
You shift upwards, giving her breast a final grope before it comes back down to hook around her thighs. With a press forward, you plant your hands back on either side of her head, and she’s almost folded in half. Your weight pins her to the mattress, her pussy clenching around you, completely helpless at the position she’s in.
She mewls, hands clawing at the sheets, loving how deep you’ve buried yourself inside of her at this new angle. “So fucking deep, daddy–”
You thrust slow, deep, her pussy so snug around you. So wet, so tight, so welcoming that each stroke makes you groan. The vanilla scent gets stronger, overwhelming you. You lean further down her neck, and give a small lick.
“You smell so fucking good, princess.” You move to kiss her lips hard. Biting her lip, shoving your tongue down her throat, all while you slowly ramp up the pace of your thrusts. And she takes it all like the good girl that she is. “New lotion?”
“P-Perfume, daddy. I-I thought–oh, fuck–” she gasps, almost crying at the way you bottom out inside her again and again and again. “Thought you-you would like it.”
“I love it.” You do. The muskiness of it, the overpowering vanilla with a hint of juniper berries mixed in. God, you just found your favorite scent on her. Or ever. But you can’t focus on that right now because you–“Love how tight this pussy is more.”
“And it’s all yours daddy,” she cries, her head lolling back on the bed. “Your little cockwarmer, all yours to use whenever you want–fuck!”
You’re pounding her down on the bed so hard you’d think it would leave an imprint afterwards. Your body sticks flush against hers now, her hard nubs rubbing against your chest. The harsh slaps of flesh get louder, and you can feel her legs tremble every time you drive inside her. It makes her blabber on, crying, screaming. She’s lost, utterly possessed with euphoria.
It is addicting having her like this, all delirious and fucked stupid on your cock. That ditzy smile on her face as she replaces the grip on her sheets to your shoulders. Never has she been so gone from being taken before, and this new side of her that’s appeared is captivating, intoxicating.
And to think all you had to do was be a pizza delivery man for a few minutes.
Her walls never stop clenching around you, seemingly getting tighter by the second. She’s gushing, the sheets below you two stained with her arousal. You’re not complaining, of course. It makes it so much more easier to fuck the shit out of Chaeryeong.
“I’m so close daddy!” she screams, her voice cracking. “Please don’t stop, please! I’m so so close!”
“Yeah?” you growl, leaning down to kiss her another rough kiss on the lips. “My princess wants to cum on my cock?”
“Yes! Yes, your little cumdump is so close please–” But you don’t want her to yet. You want to tease her a little bit more, wanting this to last because who knows when you’ll have her like this again—underneath you and crazy for your cock. She always has been, but she’s downright feral for it today.
So you slow down, painfully so for you both, back to deep, slow thrusts that make her whine.
“Daddy! I wanna cum!” she whines, trying to roll her hips at you to no avail.
“Good girls can hold it in for a little longer.” The chuckle you let out sounded cruel even to you, but the desperate sounds she’s making when you bottom out and grind your hips sounds too good for you to stop.
Chaeryeong’s trembling under your hold, whining and sobbing about how much she needs to cum. She’s pulsing around your shaft, and there’s no denying that she was so close to being undone.
She’s biting her lip, eyes wide open with this yearning. Her deep breaths accentuate her breasts, and honest to god you need to appreciate them more.
That top she wore did wonders in that front.
It wasn’t until you realized she was muttering something under her breath that you leaned in, fragments of words tangling with her shaky breathing.
“–eed me.”
“Did you say something princess?” you ask, tilting your head.
“Please breed me!” she cries out, the words bursting out of her mouth, finally having enough of your teasing. “I’ll take all of it, every drop of cum inside my pussy. Fucking breed me, use me, just–just make me cum. God just please let me cum!”
She’s keeps going, on and on and on about her sheer need to cum, insisting you to fuck her as much as you want until you blow your load inside of her. She’s barely lucid, doing anything she can to keep you close and moving again. Leaving scratches on your back, pulling you in. Promising to be the goodest girl, to drain you of all of your cum and not spill a single drop.
Though, she didn’t have to.
You were a goner the moment she said the word ‘breed’.
Your hips were moving on its own, picking up a merciless pace, thrusting into her balls deep and not letting up for anything. Using her like she wants as an outlet for your own pleasure. One that is quickly approaching its peak when you feel that tightness in your loins.
She cums first, predictably, inevitably. It’s what she’s been craving for so much that her eyes roll back from the climax. The neighbours can probably hear her screams but it’s not like you two care right now.
“Daddy, I’m cumming! I’m cumming–”
Throughout it all you’re hammering into her, her walls convulsing around your cock. Her juices are everywhere, getting you, her, the sheets messy. Yet you won’t stop even for a moment for a reprieve, your own peak so damn close that her words are the catalyst that sets you off.
“I want your cum inside my pussy daddy. Fill me up till I fucking leak, until you breed me–”
With a groan you bury your length deep, your cum spilling inside her. Every thrust you add sends another spurt of your load painting her walls, each moan she lets out a wordless encouragement for more, until you no longer can.
Breathing fills the silence, and you take one last whiff of vanilla before you give her a kiss and praise her, telling her that she’s been such a good girl for you, that your princess did so well. And she giggles, her fingers lazily circling around your nape, a shy smile appearing on her lips.
“I’m so sore.”
“You’re fault for calling me daddy.”
“You love it.”
You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. You’re convinced that’s the end of it—Chaeryeong too fucked out to do another round with you. Until she grins and drops a bombshell of a question that sends you spiraling.
"She told me we had too many things in common," you say in disbelief, taking a large sip of your cocktail.
"Uh-huh."
"I mean—who says that? Sorry, we'd be too good together. I'm sure we'd have a lot of fun, but we're just too much alike."
Xiaoting is just sitting with her back against the booth, enjoying her beer without much to say. The silence too amusing for her as you let it all spill out.
"Maybe I'm just destined to be alone for life. Yeseo never responded to those text messages I sent after I slept with her. Never heard from her since then. Same thing with Mashiro, "you start, finishing off the rest of your drink.
Another sigh and you sink back, looking right at Xiaoting as she shakes her head a little.
"If it's any consolation, I haven't been laid in like three months," Xiaoting chimes in, wiping a bit of foam from her lips.
"That—does not make me feel any better, no. Also, you're lying. There's no way that's possible. Have you even looked in the mirror lately? No guy in his right mind would skip a chance with you."
"Appreciate that, but I'm not lying. Three months. Also the last person wasn't a guy, I'll have you know." Xiaoting can't help but laugh and lean forward, crossing her arms.
"Right. Forgot you'll sleep with just about anyone, really."
Xiaoting takes a quick swig of her beer, and puts it down with an empty thud, letting out a satisfied little smile. "Hey—I just like having a bit of variety. Sometimes it's nice staring into the eyes of a cute girl while she goes down on you. Sometimes it's nice to have a big, strong man pin you down."
That smirk grows as she shifts, raising an arm to catch the waiter's attention from afar. She knows how flushed you get when talking about all this, especially given her shameless nature. "Anyway, if neither of those girls came back for more, that's the real loss. They have no idea what they're missing."
It's almost dizzying how Xiaoting swaps from shameless to flirtatious, and back again if she needs to be.
"Or maybe they're in their right mind, and maybe I'm the problem. Rejected by three girls in a few weeks isn't exactly the best track record," you say, putting your empty glass down and switching over to the one left from the waiter, something a little less pink, and a little stronger.
"Oh, shut up. We are not doing the whole pity thing. So what if you fucked a model and she never returned a message? Who cares. Next. Find a hotter girl with bigger tits, a bigger ass, I dunno—you'll find another one. It's not the end of the world."
And as much as you want to believe otherwise, Xiaoting is telling the truth, the two or three drinks in your system working against you. There's no doubt in that brilliant, pretty head of hers, as those eyes catch your attention and gaze at you a little too long. "Next girl will make you forget about the previous one, trust me."
"Be hard to find a girl with a bigger ass than Yeseo," you say, breaking away from Xiaoting's captivating stare for the moment, although unable to do it for very long. "Girl was built like a fucking goddess, Ting. Thighs like you wouldn't believe. She could crush a watermelon."
She can't help but giggle a little and stare up. "You're such an idiot. You'll find a girl with the same if not better thighs, who doesn't break your heart and pretend you don't exist after hooking up once."
That's the perspective you really needed, Xiaoting's view on things. Someone not looking through the lens of their own lust. She's right.
"This is why I bring you here. To pull my dumbass back to reality. Would be lost without you," you reply, the slightest of smiles creeping across your lips while the alcohol is definitely getting the better of you.
Xiaoting tries to remain as demure as possible, but can't help but burst into smile at that remark. "Who else will look out for your dumbass if not me? And also buy me drinks. And chicken wings. Those are mandatory, by the way."
"As long as I don't have to eat the spicy ones again," you groan, recalling the time Xiaoting made you suffer through that agony.
"Sure, you big baby. I'll save your weak stomach, you poor thing," she says and rolls her eyes, looking far too pretty under the dim lighting.
The thought crosses your mind then, just for a second, when the look in Xiaoting's eyes lingers for just a few seconds longer than normal, a touch of blush to her face that doesn't go unnoticed. Until that glass finds its way to her lips and takes a sip to ease the tension.
"But anyway, are we going to get shitfaced and try to find someone to take home and fuck? I know I didn't get dolled up to just listen to you mope all night long."
A sound idea. But not exactly appealing as you're not looking to get rejected a fourth time—
"Honestly, Ting. I'm fine with getting shitfaced, but without the hookup part," you say, easing back against the booth cushion and relaxing, enjoying the buzz running through your body.
Eyebrows raised, she's studying your features, puzzled about what she's hearing. "That's a first. But I get it—we'll just drink, order more chicken wings, whatever you want. No stress, no rush, no hookups. Just us two having a good time."
You could use that right now, more than anything.
"Yeah. Thanks, Ting. You're the best."
"Damn right I am. Aren't you lucky to have met me?" Xiaoting can't help but reply, grabbing another wing. Here's to us," she toasts, holding up her beer bottle to your glass to clink against it before downing what remains.
✦ ✦
A little after 1 am is when the two of you stumble out of a taxi and right back into the familiar apartment, both a little unsteady with the weight of the alcohol flowing through.
"Did you really tip him twenty bucks? That's like, two orders of chicken wings," Xiaoting mutters, nearly toppling over trying to take her heels off, giggling immediately after.
"You were so loud and drunk in his cab, he earned those extra bills," you say, helping to steady Xiaoting against your body for balance so she can toss her stilettos free.
"I'm not even that drunk," Xiaoting tries to counter, but quickly laughs it off when her words come out a little too slurred and she almost falls again. "Okay, fine, I'm a little drunk. But whatever. You are too. Took you like three times to open the front door."
You ignore the ridiculous statement, already on your way to the couch to collapse with a heavy flop. As soon as your head hits the cushions, Xiaoting plops herself right on you, still all giggly as that fit body collapses on top of yours, her weight a most welcome addition.
"There's a chair like, ten feet to your left," you mumble, defeated already by the comfort of her body sinking so perfectly against yours. "Who invited you to hog all my space on the couch?"
"It's comfy," she offers as a response, burying her face in your chest and nuzzling close. "Also, you're warm—you make a nice pillow. It would be rude to make me get up and go lay in bed alone."
You're inclined to agree, or maybe the alcohol has something to do with it. But either way, it's a nice end to the night—in some ways, the perfect ending. "Fine, but if you start snoring, you're kicked off."
"I don't snore, thank you very much," Xiaoting replies, a playful pout following. "How dare you insinuate such a thing."
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Ting."
Then it's dead quiet as the two of you stay sprawled across the couch, enjoying the silence, the closeness, the warmth of each other right now. An almost sobering moment.
"You know," Xiaoting starts, breaking that fleeting serenity. "It's not so bad just like this. Not on some conquest to get dicked down. Just taking the week off and getting drunk together. Kind of nice."
"God, you really are drunk," you answer back, hand trailing down her shoulder and resting there.
"Hey—shut up. I meant that. You really needed that tonight. I don't want you wallowing around thinking about girls that you're too good for anyway."
"Too good for? You're overestimating my value, Ting."
"Oh fuck off, you are. All these hot girls, the model, that one runner girl, the fucking yoga teacher, oh my god—with the huge tits. They're the dumbasses for passing you up."
"If they're too good for me, who's left in that case?" you ask, rather rhetorically. But there's this pause, this silent contemplation for a few seconds. The way she gazes at you seems a little different, until it settles right back into her usual demeanor.
"Well—" Xiaoting says, still pressed up nice and close. "Me, obviously."
You're half expecting it to come with some sarcastic response, to deflate that genuine response and play it off. But nothing comes, just the look of curiosity, as if she expects your answer. There's nothing that slips out of your lips. Not right away. Because what exactly are you supposed to say in return to that?
"I really am too fucking drunk," she mumbles, almost embarrassed when she lifts her body a little and gets off you, wobbling over to the kitchen. "Well, better get some water in me and some painkillers if we don't want hangovers tomorrow. Time for bed."
And before you can think of anything to say, she's halfway across the room, looking back over her shoulder. "Really though—thanks for a great night. I had fun."
Nothing else. You're not even entirely sure you heard her correctly. Then again, you've probably just had a little too much to drink, and exhaustion is setting in, with Xiaoting off to wash her face and get ready for bed.
So you'll do the same, heeding her advice and downing a glass of water yourself with some painkillers before brushing your teeth, and hopping into that comfy bed of yours. Alone, while Xiaoting is surely doing the same on the other side of the apartment. It's the first first thing you linger on when you gaze up at the ceiling, in need of a good night's rest.
✦ ✦
No matter how comfortable your bed may be, how warm the sheets might feel, morning can never be avoided, whether you want it or not. It comes faster than expected, and always feels far too early for your tastes. A bit of sunlight sneaking through the window curtains a most uninvited alarm.
The blankets feel like a ton of bricks, still needing far more time to recover from last night's antics. No combination of sleep and aspirin can dull that awful pounding headache. But eventually, you get up with a loud sigh and the heavy duvet tossed aside, with your feet touching the carpet as the blur eventually fades.
You struggle with every step you take, following the smell of fresh, brewed coffee, hoping you're not imagining things. The kitchen light on in the distance that only fuels your hopes.
When you saunter on in, Xiaoting is right there, with hair a mess and only a large, oversized black tee, just standing near the coffee pot as she waits for it to brew.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Xiaoting manages, no makeup or attempt to be even the slightest bit presentable, her feet bare and her legs just an endless sight. "How's your head treating you?"
"Terrible," you answer, a raspy sort of reply. "Remind me never to go drinking with you again, Ting."
She laughs a little at that, pouring some freshly made coffee into a cup and sliding it your way as you muster enough energy to take a seat. "How many times have I heard you say that by now, and you never learn. Here, some coffee might help."
It helps more than anything ever could, and you sigh a bit from the first sip that just warms everything. The morning feels a little more like morning, despite it being far past that, early afternoon at least.
"Why are you so much more functional in the morning than I am? Making coffee and everything. You're not hungover?"
Xiaoting looks your way and shakes her head, amused at the state she's seeing you in. "Dunno. Got a good night's sleep. Plenty of water before going to bed. Feeling pretty okay so far."
"Lucky you. I feel like death. Debating sleeping for the entire day."
"Poor baby," Xiaoting responds, coming closer and ruffling up your hair a bit. "You got up to get coffee, that's a start. And to see me. Even better."
"You must still be drunk."
"Rude," she grumbles, shooting you a little look of fake disappointment. "Not everyone gets to wake up and look at such a gorgeous face. The fact you get the luxury and just complain is heartbreaking."
You sigh and roll your eyes, sipping some more of your coffee. "Please, Ting."
"What? It's true," she answers, not quite as convincing this time. "Anyway, you want pancakes? Waffles? French toast? Your call."
The fact she's even considering cooking in her current state seems absurd. "All of those seem a little heavy. Maybe just eggs, something simple. If you don't mind."
"Gotcha—scrambled eggs coming right up," she smiles, moving towards the fridge to get started. "Then maybe a nap after if you don't feel any better."
"Yeah, definitely gonna need one. Maybe sleep until the next week."
There's not much you can offer other than sitting there, watching a rather energetic Xiaoting prepare food, trying not to stare too much, feeling more coherent after some caffeine. But those legs—you're not even the littlest bit ashamed how those creamy, long legs catch your attention and can't really let you stop looking.
And you swear she bends over a little deeper than necessary each time. To get the egg carton, some milk, reaching up to get a pan from the cabinet above, almost unbearable how that oversized shirt rides up a little each time. You snap out of it, averting your gaze as to stop intruding on her body, despite her all too welcoming curves, roommate or otherwise.
"Want anything else? Anything special on your eggs today, besides a dash of love?"
It would sound corny if anyone else said those words, but from Xiaoting's lips, those words carry some weight to them. "Just plain eggs would be fine. Thanks."
"Toast?" she asks next as she sets up a small frying pan. "There's bagels here. Or even English muffins. Plain, sourdough, cinnamon sugar, oh and blueberry—"
As much as those choices are tempting on any other occasion, you're not sure you can handle so much carb. "Don't really think my stomach can handle bread so early. Really, eggs are all I need."
A quick nod, a few minutes later, and a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs gets placed down, just waiting to be devoured, along with a fork and a bottle of ketchup.
"Thanks, Ting. What would I do without you? Really, I appreciate this so much," you say, grabbing the ketchup bottle and squeezing a little before diving right in.
"Perish, probably," she teases, taking a seat to keep you company with a toasted bagel slathered in cream cheese for her to enjoy. That infectious laugh of Xiaoting does a lot for this morning, almost enough to forget the headache you woke up with.
"God, you're so cute when you're all hungover and pathetic like this."
Not really the compliment you were expecting, but it'll do. And in the end, having someone like Xiaoting there, smiling and laughing at your suffering, that's really the best hangover cure you could ask for. Also the eggs. Definitely the eggs.
✦ ✦
"We should get more beer at some point. We're all out," Xiaoting says as sits down next to you on the couch and flips a movie on, sitting close. "What's pizza without beer to go with?"
"Need something strong to go with this terrible movie, that's for sure," you answer, glancing her way as you grab another slice.
"Don't be ridiculous, it's a classic. This movie is a treasure. They'll be showing it in museums as art one day," Xiaoting claims, smiling big as she steals a bit of a pepperoni slice from your own, chewing it with delight.
"Uh-huh. We talking about the same movie, Ting?"
"Don't get it twisted, it's not just any ordinary horror film," she says as she scoots herself a bit closer, legs tucked underneath her. "They don't make them like this anymore."
"Thank god. I've seen better acting in porn. There's no way you actually think this movie is any good."
"How dare you," Xiaoting chuckles, finishing her slice and setting her plate down on the coffee table. "Also, thanks to admitting you watch porn. Duly noted, pervert."
You're left without words in that regard, shaking your head instead. "I'm not admitting anything. And don't act like you don't live on those sites. I bet your browsing history is wild, Ting."
The smile on her lips is far too obvious when the accusation hits, no denial whatsoever, and a shameless laugh. "Feel free to head right into my room and check my laptop. I think you'd be interested in what's there. Maybe you'd learn a thing or two."
Xiaoting is never one to be defeated or one-upped, always with the double down. Even if it comes at her own expense.
"I'll pass, thanks."
"Afraid you'll see something we're both into? Or maybe a bit too curious to know what your roommate gets off to when you're not around?"
That catches you off guard a little more than expected, with no comeback in sight.
"Contrary to your beliefs, I don't care what you get off to. Can't imagine what perverted filth is on your phone these days. How many camgirls you've got on a subscription."
There's a silence in the air then, Xiaoting moving against you a little and staring right back. "I don't pay for them. Not unless the show is really worth it. Also didn't you just sleep with one?"
"She wasn't a camgirl, she was an erotic model. Big difference."
Xiaoting can't contain herself, bursting into laughter. "Whatever. Close enough, right? You got to see her ass in person."
"Don't remind me how bad that ended up. I'm trying to forget."
She doesn't push on that one, instead turning her attention back to the television, sitting a little closer with that same smile lingering.
"Sorry," she mutters, giving your thigh a squeeze, hand resting right on top.
"Nothing to be sorry for. Except for how atrocious this movie is. Why are we still watching this, again?"
"I told you why!" Xiaoting says, holding a finger up. "It's art."
"Ting—"
"Listen, shut up. We're watching this. No more talking, just enjoy."
So that's what you do, silent once again, with no protest to be found. Nothing but the sounds of screams and shrieks and awful acting playing from the television while Xiaoting just inches herself a little bit closer by the moment.
"See, isn't this better?" she asks, glancing at you briefly.
"Better than what? A root canal without anesthesia? Yes."
The frustration on Xiaoting's face is obvious as she rolls her eyes, sinking back and scooting even nearer. "No. Better than chasing some stupid girls that don't appreciate you. Girls that will never see how great you are. Which means I get you to myself."
"Starting to think you care more about them rejecting me than me," you point out, starting on your third slice of pizza as you glance her way.
"Oh my god—don't be so dramatic. I just want you to get laid once in awhile," Xiaoting protests, scooting back to her original spot and sighing.
"I appreciate the effort, Ting. But I don't need to think about it right now. Honestly."
"I have to look out for you," she says with that stern look. "But maybe you've just been looking in the wrong places. With the wrong girls."
It's not as subtle this time around, when Xiaoting looks away, running a hand through her messy hair.
"Wrong places?" you ask, tearing your focus away from the horrific film playing and onto her, seeing that look in those eyes change ever so slightly. "Where should I be looking, then?"
There's this lingering tension in the air, this striking pause when you wait for her to speak up again. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the the couch is a good place to start. Like someone sitting right next to you, maybe."
You look around, trying to find any stray beer bottles that you must have missed. But they're nowhere to be found. "Shit, I'm still drunk aren't I? Because I swear I—"
"Or for fuck's sake, it's me. Me, you dumbass," Xiaoting says, leaning over, and before you can even process anything, her lips press right against yours without any chance for a response to time to spill out. It's brief, sweet, and a hell of a way to snap you awake.
"Now will you shut up and let me do it again?"
Like hell you're going to say no. And the second time, Xiaoting pulls you even deeper in, until your lips clash together, tasting her again, lips so soft, warm, welcoming—everything you've been missing.
The surprise is evident across your features, frozen as Xiaoting looks at you with those eyes, feeling rather sheepish. She looks like she can't really believe what she did just did, the movie on the television continuing to play in the background as you take it all in.
"Say something," Xiaoting pleads, hand softly placed against your cheeks. "Please. Anything."
And you don't, not when those eyes have been looking right at you all along, staring at her features while you pick up up exactly where you left off, diving into those lips that steal your breath all over again. "Ting—"
"What?"
"Please tell me I'm not imagining this. That I'm not still shitfaced from last night, and that this is real."
Xiaoting hesitates for a moment, drinking in that moment of silence before sliding over to straddle your lap, to cup your face in the most delicate manner, staring intently.
"It's very real. Promise."
It's all the convincing you really need before your hands are wandering, finding their way all across the curve of Xiaoting's hips and lower back, clinging tight. And from there, her tongue slides deep between your lips, giving you so much more of answer.
Her lips are softer, sweeter than you ever expected, her body so tight and warm and pressed so close, your hands traveling all over the curves of her petite frame. "We're really doing this, Ting?"
You watch her respond with a nod, a chuckle following as her forehead comes to meet yours.
"You mean fucking?" she blurts out without an ounce of embarrassment, so direct that it doesn't feel out of character. "If that's what you want. I promise I'm a lot more fun than just a random girl."
You just go silent then, running fingers through her silky hair as the thoughts swim around. "Bit of a leap from kissing to—that, isn't it?"
"What can I say," she continues, lifting her head. "I have a bad habit of jumping right in."
There's some sort of meaning behind that statement, behind the tone in her voice when she says the words, leaning forward and pushing you back onto the couch. "Also that I'm fucking horny and it's been three months, and I have been thinking about fucking you since the moment you told me about that hot little redhead."
Your head is spinning with everything that's happened in the last few minutes. Not even a chance to take a breath. "You've been thinking about this that long?"
A blush taints Xiaoting's face, clearly getting a kick out of how it all spills free, her bold, blunt nature exposed. "Of course I do. Your mind is always in the gutter, so don't even pretend like you've never jerked off thinking about me."
You can't help but smile at that. "Not every day."
"Such a lying bastard," Xiaoting giggles, leaning into to kiss the side of your mouth. "Come on, admit it. We both want this, and there's no reason not to."
She's not wrong. Not by a longshot, especially not when you let those lips linger again, tangling yourselves together. "Alright, fine. But not here. At least somewhere away from this fucking movie," you say, lifting her up effortlessly and carrying her away.
"Upstairs, obviously," Xiaoting tells you, arms wrapped so tightly around. "Your room. So we don't have to change the sheets on my bed."
With nothing else to add, your lips just capture hers once more, and you can't ignore the way her frame clings to yours, body so light in your grasp. Her skin feels so soft as you trail fingers along the curve of her back, so warm as you enter your bedroom and fall atop her onto the mattress.
"What are you going to do to me? What have you been fantasizing about when you think of me?" Xiaoting falls back to the pillows and looks up at you, smiling ear to ear.
"Dunno yet. Might just kiss you the entire night. We'll see," you respond, diving right back into Xiaoting's neck and enjoying little moans she makes in the process.
It all feels surreal— the two of you there in your bed, your arms wrapped tightly around her body as your lips latch to that sensitive skin, finding the right spots as she whimpers, those delicate noises leaving her pretty lips.
"At least get me naked if you're planning on doing this for the whole night," Xiaoting says as the fabric of her shirt rides up when she shifts to expose more of that creamy flesh. It doesn't even require a single thought, as you mark up that toned abdomen with kisses that trail a path up her body.
"My pleasure."
You lift her shirt up, her tits all too noticeable through the thin black fabric of her bra as it comes off in one fluid motion. Skin so flawless while you continue those kisses all over that milky skin of hers, running your hands all along her fit frame.
"We have all the time in the world," you assure her, fingers going underneath the fabric of that bra and unfastening it with a snap. It's not so far-fetched either, being able to spend hours worshipping her beautiful body—just like you've even done so countless times before in that imagination of yours.
But here she is, lying right beneath you, arms lifting above her head as you pull her bra off and toss it aside. Those perky tits exposed for the first time look even better than you thought, nipples so pretty and craving your touch. Which you don't hold back on, your lips quickly latching to her nipple, making her back arch a little and groaning.
"So much for kissing me all night," Xiaoting moans while your lips surround her hard bud, teasing it with a swirl of your tongue.
"Would you prefer I stop? Go back to watching that awful movie?"
"Fuck no—I've wanted this forever, just shut up and keep going," Xiaoting says as that laugh quickly dissolves into a whine the moment your lips catch her nipple again, fingers going into your hair as the desperation shows. "As if I'd want you to stop when you're already getting my nipples so hard."
There's just something incredibly arousing about pulling off with a loud pop, and seeing your saliva glisten off it while she stares up. You give the same treatment to the other one, your lips surrounding her bud and flicking the tip of that nipple with your tongue, enjoying how the noises coming from her mouth increase by the second.
"Shit—your mouth feels so good on my tits," Xiaoting groans out as you suck hard, lips sealed around each sensitive nipple, alternating between the left and the right while she writhes underneath you.
There are these slight bites, those teasing nips that catch Xiaoting completely off-guard while you just hold her down by the hips, her back arching hard. And when she can't take the teasing anymore, pushing your head down further, to drag your tongue down her stomach as the path descends down, you know exactly where you're headed.
"If your nipples are this sensitive—" you say, unbuttoning the front of her skirt while your tongue still swipes across her lower abdomen. "Can't wait to see how the rest of you is."
You stop your exploration and just glance up at your roommate, and how she stares back at you. No bra. Shirtless, and a skirt half undone. A stark contrast to downstairs before.
"What? Why did you stop? Come on."
"Don't be so impatient. Can't I just look at how pretty you are first, Ting?" Xiaoting blushes, her eyes diverting in such a moment of hesitation.
"You can do both," she suggests, rolling her hips so you'll get the hint and continue undressing her. And how can you say no when she looks up with that piercing gaze, until soon enough, the only thing left is those sheer black panties she wears as you pull off her skirt.
Your eyes scan the deadly curves of her body, just studying that physique—how good she looks in nothing but a pair of panties, the rest bare for you. So lost in every bare inch that Xiaoting almost does the deed herself before her patience starts wearing a bit thin.
"Pull them off already, don't stare. I know I'm not the first girl you've seen naked."
You don't do it just yet, fingers tracing over the fabric of her panties, running over the thin material as it seems to leave nothing to the imagination. "No, but you might be the first girl to look this good naked."
Xiaoting doesn't shy away like before, spreading her legs open wide and leaning up as she looks down. "You already have me in your bed. No need to keep sweet talking me."
"Can't help myself, Ting. You're just too gorgeous."
Xiaoting shoots a quick smile at that, and that's when you can't resist, peeling off those panties so her bare pussy is on full display. Pretty and smooth shaven, and whatever word you can use to describe, already glistening with arousal, unable to tear your attention away. That's when you really stare.
"See something you like?" Xiaoting asks, spreading her legs even wider as an invite.
"I really, really do."
That pretty slit seems to glisten just a little more at the comment. "Then don't just stare. And take off your own clothes too. Would be rude to be the only one."
It takes but a few moments to get down to your underwear, from there everything tossed aside and scattered across the room with no regards. Now there's no clothes to hide behind, her eyes can freely wander and take in your body in the same manner as you return the favor.
You get right down to the important task, and dive between the apex of her thighs, kissing all around, feeling the heat from her pretty cunt. The anticipation grows by the second, before that first tentative lick with your tongue, slowly swiping over her dripping slit.
"Fucking—god," Xiaoting lets out, as you taste just how aroused she is from that one lick, swirling the tip of your tongue along her wet folds while she stares and grips the bedsheets tightly. The way she tastes so sweet makes it impossible to stop, taking more greedy licks at that delicious center.
And when your lips close around her throbbing clit and suck, the noises that leaves her mouth is pure bliss, enough to seek out more of that sweet flavor.
"G-god, who knew my roommate could eat pussy like this?" Xiaoting groans, thighs trembling when they clamp against your head.
"And who knew my roommate had such a delicious pussy," you tease, tongue swiping down to part those pink, slick folds, gathering the nectar up without pause. "You taste so fucking good, Ting. So goddamn good."
As the strokes of your tongue go deeper, Xiaoting is already whimpering, with one hand balled into a tight fist around the sheets, the other clamped on the back of your head while your tongue traces slow circles around her needy clit.
"Fucking god, you're too good at this," Xiaoting mutters with her hips bucking against you. "If they won't come back when you're this good with your mouth, then they're all fucking idiots."
The praise and encouragement goes right to your head, so you move in and spread her wet slit apart with the tip of your tongue, gathering up more taste of her all over your lips, dripping down your chin.
"Glad you think so, Ting. Such a pretty fucking pussy deserves to be devoured like this," you say, watching her face contort up in and pleasure, those creamy thighs trembling around you, keeping your face tight against her dripping cunt.
"God, yes, eat my fucking pussy. Make me cum all over your cute face," is her only reply, biting down on that lower lip of hers. "It's been so long, and I already feel so close from your fucking tongue."
"Don't worry, I'm doing this every single day now. Eat you out just like this when I get home from work. In the morning when you wake up, and when you go to bed. Everywhere else, really."
That gets Xiaoting really going, grabbing the back of your head with both hands now, so her aroma lingers right where you want it to. "Don't promise things you can't keep. Just make me cum with your tongue so you can fuck me."
There's only so much she can handle with your head buried between her creamy thighs, that clit so engorged when you seal your lips around it once more.
"Oh my god," Xiaoting says in a desperate voice, her toes curling at the slurps that make her melt. Your tongue gets so coated while it travels through her folds, flicking at her clit, slurping on it harshly for a few beats, toying with it between your lips.
"Th-that's it, right there, please, don't stop, don't—"
It only takes one more long suck before Xiaoting is shaking, tugging at your hair and thighs threatening to suffocate you as they squeeze tight. She convulses in your sheets, lips parted so all the sinful sounds can escape, so all you can do is breathe her in when your mouth fills with her sweet nectar.
Xiaoting holds you there, trembling with each little slurp, just coaxing everything she has out onto your tongue. And you just down every single drop, sucking hard, those slick juices never stopping.
"Jesus, fuck—" Xiaoting cries out, her fingers entangling themselves in your hair, breathing hard after, thighs still so shaky. "Your mouth is fucking crazy."
"Only crazy for that delicious pussy of yours, Ting."
She's groaning for a completely different reason now. But the eyeroll you get doesn't matter when the taste of her cunt lingers in your mouth. When the sweat on her thighs is so close to your lips, still panting, when her thighs shake so violently.
"Now you know what three months without a real orgasm tastes like," Xiaoting breathes out, finally letting your head go as you manage to escape and catch a breath of fresh air.
"Tastes pretty fucking good then."
"Come here," she orders without hesitation, and you obey, crawling up her body until she welcomes you with a taste of her kiss. Xiaoting grabs tight at your body and pulls you back on top of her, never breaking eye contact while her taste on your tongue spreads. "Tell me you're going to put that dick of yours inside of me, or I swear—"
"Dunno. Might tease you more," you say, a grin forming that she wipes off fast by squeezing your cock through the fabric of your underwear.
"God, you feel so thick and hard," she coos, wrapping her fingers around what she can. "Please tell me I'm not making this all up in my head. That my hot roommate is packing something like that."
"Only one way for you to find out," you respond, a playful glint in the eyes of your roommate, a smile that follows while Xiaoting scurries over to slide down your boxers.
"Holy—shit," she utters with that grin of hers, finding herself quite taken away as soon as the fabric comes down far enough to see every detail. The shape of your shaft, the weighty thickness to it, the length when it drops down. "That is fucking ridiculous. Please tell me I can put this thing inside me."
"Kind of need to at this point. Got all worked up just eating you out, no backing down now."
There are no second thoughts after Xiaoting begins stroking your cock, feeling every bit of you, thumb going over the swollen tip as precum seeps out. She seems so drawn to your shaft, her eyes fixated on what's between your legs, the stiffness only increasing in the process.
"God, please—gotta feel that thing. Fuck, your dick is just...fuck," she mumbles, pulling away to give herself plenty of room to have her fun. Her naked body right under you, spreading those thighs nice and wide. It's such a beautiful sight.
"No going back. Gonna have you for myself now," Xiaoting says, keeping a hand wrapped around your cock while you move into position.
Your swollen cockhead teases at her slit, smearing all those juices over while you ready yourself, watching the reaction in her eyes. There's nothing you want more, to see what she's really got in store for you—to be inside of Xiaoting, finally after these months of wondering.
And with one push, you feel that hot, dripping wetness of her tight cunt swallow the tip of your shaft, sinking in deeper to feel that slippery flesh surround.
"Oh my fucking god, that thing is going to ruin me," Xiaoting cries out, gasping the moment those walls clench hard. "Shit. Now why haven't we been doing this a long time ago?"
"Good fucking question," you answer her back while slipping inside even deeper, getting a good look at how your cock disappears so beautifully.
"Could have had this nice, thick dick buried deep inside me, instead of my fingers for so long. Instead of all the one night stands we could have saved each other from."
That's all forgotten now, when you slide out, to take a glance at the shiny mess of her juices that coat your shaft, then shove much deeper, earning the prettiest little sound you've heard from her lips so far.
"There we go. No need to ease it all in—just fucking put it in, all at once, right to the fucking—oh shit," Xiaoting moans, legs quickly spreading more and sinking even further against the softness of the mattress.
All at once, every inch plunges, slides right up into that tight, dripping pussy and stretches her all out. Xiaoting throws her head back, getting two fistfuls of the sheets and staring at the ceiling while her eyes almost roll back. "I can't—fucking shit, your dick is so good. So big, just stay there, don't move yet."
There's hardly a need to do such a thing, your eyes focused on the sight of your shaft deep inside, how goddamn wet and warm she feels, squeezing around you tight to hold you buried in place. The way she looks up, completely overwhelmed yet loving the sensation so much, the stretch, the way you fill her.
"Alright—go," she lets out, taking a couple breaths to catch up, processing and adjusting herself. "Pull out and shove it right back in—want you to fuck me good. Really give it to me. Three fucking months since the last time anyone made me cum."
"Three fucking months," you repeat, getting a good grip on her small, little waist and slowly easing out, until your hips are in motion, pulling your cock almost all the way, only to let her have every inch again.
Xiaoting takes each set of thrusts, legs spread, pussy already gripping hard and demanding you to stay buried. It's slow at first, getting to know what she likes, and what she can take, savoring how tight she is with every second that passes.
"That's it, oh fuck," Xiaoting sighs, lips parted, looking up at you and burning the image of how you're spreading her with that thick cock into her memory. "Just keep fucking me—go as hard as you want. I can take it. I swear."
There's no doubt, seeing how your entire cock sinks inside her glistening cunt, seeing the wetness spill out whenever you withdraw, how those greedy lips grip so tight with every thrust. So you follow, hips snapping forward while you piston into her wet heat, losing yourself in the moment, in the bliss, in the warm, heavenly sensations of how her pussy feels.
"H-hey," she stutters, trying to compose herself so she can shift her body a little. "You've gone speechless on me now. Something wrong, or are you just enjoying yourself?"
"Sorry—hard not to when this is happening," you reply, leaning forward while still moving your hips and plowing deeper. "You feel so incredible, Ting. I've been missing out on so much. This amazing body, this gorgeous fucking pussy. All these curves, god."
There's a blush that covers her face in an instant, cheeks pink and so flustered while her eyes widen. "Don't worry about it now—just keep fucking me. Keep that cock deep inside me, just where it belongs."
You have no reason to do otherwise, pulling back enough and then slamming forward to watch her take it all again, her petite frame jolting while the headboard knocks into the wall. Xiaoting smiles wide, sitting a little more up as she stares right at you, eyes locked, feeling all of it, as deep as possible with the sheets balled into her fists.
"Just like that," she gasps as the sweat begins to form on her skin. "Fuck me harder, if you want—don't have to hold anything back."
And that's when you do exactly that, grab her thighs and dig fingertips into flesh as the snap of your hips echo through the room. Xiaoting looks at the sight of you hammering your thick cock right between those soaked, pink lips, falling apart so easily.
"Better than everyone you've fucked so far, right? Better than that runner girl and that stupid model?" Xiaoting pants, struggling to catch her breath with each word coming out.
"So much fucking better," you let out, groaning as that wet cunt grips so much tighter the harder you go, picking up pace and seeing those tits of hers bouncing with each plunge of your hard cock. "Don't give a fuck about anyone else now that I'm inside you."
Her smile is just too much, looking right at you with this smug satisfaction. "At least you're starting to realize. My pussy is a lot more satisfying," she brags, eyes darting down and watching your cock impale her on repeat.
"No objections here, Ting. You're perfect," you grunt, feeling the wet heat of her pussy intensify as that need begins to rise. Those little noises she makes are the perfect encouragement, her juices flooding out with every movement, keeping that wetness coating you entirely.
"You're the one who feels perfect. God, you feel so fucking—"
That's what interrupts Xiaoting in the best way possible, because the force of each snap forward just is too much for her to finish that sentence. Instead, she gives in, mouth agape as her fingers clutch so hard onto the sheets below, before everything falls apart.
"O-oh my—god, yes," Xiaoting gasps as you give her what she wants, what she's needed all these months without relief. And the way she whimpers, toes curling in an instant, the grip on your cock just unbelievable the second she tenses into climax, legs trembling, entire body shuddering underneath, makes it easy for her to bring you closer to the edge with her.
The look on Xiaoting's face when her pussy squeezes so tight around you, unable to contain herself, a desperate look of utter bliss, with no choice but to fall apart completely, leaves your cock so stiff, wanting that same satisfaction.
You don't relent for a single second, fucking that orgasmic bliss all the way through for her, bringing Xiaoting over the peak right away again as soon as that last pulse of pleasure dissipates.
"Holy f-fuck," she lets out, voice ragged, nothing more than a shaky, whimpering mess right. "I'm—going to cum again, oh my god, don't you dare slow down."
The pace doesn't slow, nor does your own need decrease, just determined to give her that, for that flood of her arousal to continue without an end in sight.
Your hard cock slams even deeper, a perfect opportunity to feel Xiaoting convulse beneath you, the entirety of her body quivering. And after three months with nothing, one can only imagine the force of that blissful orgasm to leave her shaken, a soaking, breathless mess left on the bed, glistening with sweat when it hits.
She gets so tight with when that climax arrives, back arched high, slippery and warm and gushing over your cock while you just fuck her through it.
Xiaoting's never looked more beautiful, and those moans eventually fade, trailing off into nothingness and pants of exhaustion. The rest just words and curses and nothing more. Your own need seems even stronger, pumping all your strength and energy into that tight cunt of hers, chasing what you've been wanting ever since the kiss you shared on the couch.
And that's when you have to give in, the clench of her slick walls squeezing so tight as her entire frame melts and writhes.
So much so that you have to pull out, powerless to fight that urge, the throbs of your cock too much to handle. Xiaoting gasps the second you blast it all out across her flat, toned stomach in a splatter of white, one thick shot right over her belly button, each one that stains her beautiful creamy skin more intense than the last, leaving a glazed mess all across her fit frame.
The feeling of relief is undeniable as you stroke it all out over her, decorating her body in your hot cum with not a second thought. There's hardly a protest on Xiaoting's part either, watching it all unload all over her body, a devilish grin creeping at her lips.
"Jesus, you really covered me. All that pent-up frustration put to good use, isn't it?" she sighs and laughs a little, her eyes focused as the tip of your still twitching cock spills the last remnants of your load. "Bet that felt real good. Jerking off all over my naked body instead of into a tissue. Nothing beats the real thing, huh?"
You couldn't be more happy to see the results, those abs covered in a glistening mess of your cum, using her body like a canvas to unleash every bit you have. "I'd say so. Felt fucking amazing."
"Good," Xiaoting murmurs, her gaze lingering on the pearly white streaks all over her sweaty body. "Shame it's not inside me, though. That's always better."
It's impossible to not hesitate upon hearing that, watching your own load cling to her curves like that, and how Xiaoting leans forward to scoop some of the strands onto her finger and right up into her mouth.
"Didn't exactly have time to think about it, Ting. Had to cum somewhere. Wasn't sure you'd be okay with me doing it inside."
She can't get enough, cleaning off her finger before repeating the process, enjoying how your eyes follow her every move.
"Delicious," Xiaoting replies without any delay. "And now you know where your next load is going, so you don't have to hesitate next time."
You have to take a moment to catch your breath at that, having to digest such a concept. "Next time?"
"Yes, next time. You didn't think this was a one time deal, did you? You're stuck with me now," Xiaoting announces. "Cock this big—I'll get on my knees and beg if I need to. Especially when it's this good."
"Jesus, Ting," you laugh a bit, still in awe of what just happened. "No need. I'm pretty sure I should be the one begging at this point. Your pussy felt too good the second I slid in—"
Xiaoting cuts you off, pulling you on top, no hesitation the second that mouth latches to yours while her arms wrap tightly around you. "Just kiss me more and we'll worry about the semantics of this later. I think we might be meant for each other. No more one night stands. No more horrible dates. This is so much better for you. And me."
There's not much room for arguments in the situation, or any complaints for that matter, and the sweet taste of her tongue has you sold anyway. Her warm, naked body wrapped around your own leaves no question at all.
"You owe me new sheets," is all you're able to blurt out as the two of you fall right onto the pillows.
"Oh my god, you are not serious," Xiaoting laughs, placing a hand against your chest. "You're the one who made me cum so hard. Half of that mess is your fault. That was the most insane fucking orgasm I've ever had. In my life."
"Guess we better buy them in bulk, then. Because there's a lot more where that came from."
Xiaoting blushes yet again, the same way that she always does when she gets the most embarrassed and flustered. "Guess we better hire a maid service before you start fucking me all over the apartment too, pervert."
The look on her face tells it all. A hint of amusement, a hint of the reality to the statement. And you just stay there, marveling at her pretty face, and the exhaustion, the aching for more despite all that.
"Pervert? Didn't you just say you would beg for my cock?"
"No, that doesn't sound like me," she teases, with one last squeeze to the base of your shaft before letting go. "But just wait until i wrap my lips around this thing. You'll be the one begging by then."
You don't doubt that, not for a single second. And that's something to look forward to, this scenario repeated many times in the weeks to come.
✦ ✦
Nobody can deliver a promise better than Xiaoting does.
On her knees, in front of the couch with your pants and underwear down to your ankles, your cock disappears down her throat as if it's all that she lives for. No gags, no struggle, she does it with practiced perfection, bobbing her head, all wet and sloppy with the most sinful slurps with her nose pressed flushed against your abdomen. If that wasn't enough to test your sanity, the way those sultry eyes stare up and trap you as her soft lips seal tight around your length surely does.
The warmth of her throat, the way her tongue rolls against your shaft—her hunger can't be beaten, nor can the trail of spit that follows every motion.
"Told you," she starts to say, spitting onto your cock and stroking with a heavy sigh as she pulls back and lets her tongue swirl along the head. "Nobody gives better head than me. One of the benefits of being my roommate. Your dick belongs in my mouth."
Just like that, your cock slides in again, filling her throat until you can't even think straight. All the heat around you, the feeling of that tongue working, the loud sucking that follows—everything feels too good. And the look in her eyes drives you further when those pretty lips sink, almost in slow motion, down to your base before pulling off and doing it all over again.
"Oh god, fuck, Ting," you moan, unable to take your eyes off her as she watches you from below. "Can't believe I've been living with someone so good at this."
She pulls off with a messy pop, spit stringing from her plump lips that connects to your sensitive cockhead. "Aren't you glad then? Now I can suck you off whenever I want. Anytime we have free time..."
Xiaoting goes back to devouring your cock, her slurps louder than ever, lips drooling with every bob. Every inch that disappears down her throat feels so perfect, just her working her magic, slobbering all over your dick, getting you more and more desperate. She keeps stroking when her mouth isn't on your length, those gorgeous eyes never looking away even for a second while she lets that saliva drip and coat everything it can.
"Look at you," she praises. "It feels so good, doesn't it? My lips wrapped around your pretty cock, your balls ready to pump my belly full."
No words. None that you could manage. Xiaoting does this again—just swallows your dick down, humming on your length, breathing from her nose the whole time it plunges down her throat. All while you struggle to maintain control, not wanting to bust your load down her throat too soon. Her hands squeezing your thighs already making that difficult.
You really can't think, though—the pleasure has taken over, and her mouth feels too amazing. "My throat loves your cock," she says, sinking deep and slobbering around your thick length when she goes for another stroke down to the base. "Loves tasting you, feeling your cock throbbing between my lips. It's so big. Fills my throat all the way up."
She knows you're losing it. The entire length inside her mouth covered in her spit, soaked to the hilt. And it gets worse—or better, if that's possible, when her tongue flattens, running slowly from your balls up the underside of your cockhead to tease and flick there. The combination drives you insane, and it shows. Especially the way she laughs when she pulls off.
"Can't imagine you'll last much longer like this, not with how much you're throbbing. Sounds like you want to dump all that thick, sticky cum right down the back of my throat. How does that sound?"
You groan in desperation. The urge builds too quickly, even more so now that her lips kiss all over, wet and sloppy around every sensitive spot that makes you ache for release.
"Are you ready for me to drain those heavy, cum-filled balls? I want to swallow it all, right from the source." Like that, she has you down her throat again, stuffed right where it should be. It gets overwhelming quickly, with how warm and wet and fucking messy everything is—the slobbering from her mouth and how hard her lips suck.
"God, Ting—your mouth feels so good. Gonna fucking cum if you keep that up, jesus."
She purses those lips, humming with approval, and with her eyes still staring, it feels like you've lost every semblance of control. Everything hits you too fast. The arousal, the tightness in your balls, the way she watches you fall apart when her tongue runs over the slit of your cockhead before taking the length again, all the way down and not pulling off.
Grab the back of her head and force her down—that's all you can do. Barely hold yourself together as her throat finishes you off, feeling it right where you need it, her nose squishing flat into your stomach as you erupt. Down her throat, into her stomach, eyes widening when spurts of thick, hot cum fires from the tip of your throbbing cock into her mouth.
With her gaze locked with your whole length buried inside her mouth, you keep a tight grip as the spurts don't stop—cum pumping down her throat, violent throbs while that wet heat empties your ballls.
There's nothing but satisfaction on her face as she keeps watching, and it only makes you throb even harder with every hot spurt that she swallows down, gulping it all without spilling a drop. You hold her there even after it's all done, savoring the high, the throbs that never cease with her eyes locked to catch every move you make.
When your grip eases off and her lips slide off slowly, tongue lavishing against the underside one last time, her mouth opens up with her tongue sticking out, showing you just how empty she's managed to leave your balls.
"God, that's delicious," Xiaoting says, licking her lips and cleaning your length off with her tongue.
Your chest heaves, struggling to come down from all the pleasure. Xiaoting strokes even after your orgasm ends, trying to wring every bit she can from you, kissing at the underside to make you groan with sensitivity.
"S-so good, fucking hell, Ting."
Her tongue slithers beneath, teasing your overstimulated cock with swirls while she strokes slowly. "With how good you were with your mouth on my pussy last night, I guess we're just destined to be together. Roommates with—benefits."
"Y-yeah, something like that."
Xiaoting seems satisfied when her pouty, wet lips kiss the tip again, getting one last throb out of you. "If you cum this hard in my mouth, then imagine all the cum you'll shoot in other places. My tight little ass. My wet, dripping pussy..." She gives a few more teasing kisses, keeping her gaze stuck to you as she smiles.
"Jesus, Ting," you groan out, as she finally lets your sensitive cock go. "Are you always this forward?"
"Absolutely. Get used to it, because this is a regular thing now," she says, giggling the way you get flustered. "Maybe I'll start your day the same way—wake you up with my mouth around your big, throbbing cock. End the night the same too. Bet you'd like that. No more jerking off alone in bed at night when you have me here."
There's nothing to deny, you both know it. You look down as Xiaoting comes up and straddles you, arms around your neck, smirking wide. "Yeah. Wouldn't mind that at all."
Xiaoting rests her head against your shoulder, giggling into your skin.
"Didn't think you'd say no. And now that I've gotten a taste," she says, kissing her way along your neck. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."
✦ ✦
The next morning, a mountain of bacon rests on a nearby plate while Xiaoting scrambles some eggs on the stove in just her underwear as the some toast pops in the corner.
No pants, no bra, just a little apron to protect the bare essentials from getting splattered. It all starts when she bends over to plate the food, that perfect, delicious round ass barely covered in a cute little black thong that does nothing to keep those cheeks contained. And it ends after a couple slices of bacon shared between you both, a messy kiss, and then that little thong gets pulled to the side so you can bury your entire length deep into her tight cunt and pound her against the kitchen counter.
The eggs will get cold, but that’s of no concern when you have her tight cunt to keep your cock warm, long forgotten by the time she's moaning your name. A hand crashing on her ass, the other in a rough handful of hair. She's clenching hard, your hips are moving, and this doesn't last long at all—just a quick little fuck that gets you both what you need, your cock covered with Xiaoting’s messy juices.
Then you're cumming inside her, so much that it's dripping back out onto the kitchen tile, filling her up so well as her pussy spasms around you for a second climax that matches the one in the shower.
After you slide out, you finish off the rest of the bacon, with your cum dripping down those creamy thighs while Xiaoting feeds you cold eggs with a fork dangling between her fingers, washing it down with a glass of orange juice. She’s glowing, sweat glistening on her toned midriff, a bite mark left on her neck, and a faint blush on her cheeks. And this, you realize, is just the perfect start to your weekend.
Breakfast finished, dishes washed, and now you're both off to an afternoon grocery run. Which turns out to be rather distracting to pick up what you need, when Xiaoting is in nothing but a flimsy tank top and a ridiculously tight pair of yoga pants—without underwear. Those pants hug all the right places, that tight ass especially, not even hiding the outline of her cunt underneath the thin material.
How one person can manage to be so devastatingly attractive, is anyone's guess.
But you manage to fill the cart up with essentials, XIaoting with that annoying smirk, knowing exactly what she's doing the whole time while she bends over to grab something on the bottom shelf. So in the midst of crossing off the shopping list: a new cereal, a bag of chips and toilet paper, a new case of beer thrown in for fun—Xiaoting decides to toss in a bottle of lube in as well, while you're right beside her.
"You know we still have that other one in the nightstand," you point out, trying to not keep your voice too loud.
"It'll be empty by the time the night is done," she answers with a cheeky grin that grows a bit wider the more you give that expression—like it only encourages her. She pushes the cart down the aisle, passing by boxes of condoms without breaking her pace. "Good thing we'd never need these. Imagine if you couldn't cum inside me raw, every single time? I think I'd be so devastated."
Discretion is clearly not a trail she possesses. Despite there not being anyone in close proximity, you're not exactly wanting to be open about this very topic. "Can you just be a little more subtle, Ting?"
"But where's the fun in that?" Xiaoting answers, shoving in a tube of toothpaste in moments later. "My mouth, my ass, my tight little pussy—we both know those are all your favorite places to cum when you're not blasting a load across my face. It would be so boring if you had to pull out. Really a travesty."
"Ting," you snap back, but her lips are quick to shut you up, stopping right in the middle of this aisle to grab you, wrap her arms around your neck, and crush her pouty, plump lips, tongue swiping across.
"We're in a grocery store, not a church," she reminds when you get the chance to breathe, pulling back with a satisfied smile that stays plastered to her face. "We're not the only ones here who have dirty, raw, rough sex, you know?"
"Alright, fine, maybe they sell handcuffs somewhere, and blindfolds—"
"Now you're speaking my language. Let's see what we can find."
✦ ✦
Back home, Xiaoting lazes around the couch, flat on her stomach with those sinful black yoga pants just begging to be ripped right off. And as much as she likes to play innocent, looking over her shoulder as you lie on top, it would be criminal not to indulge, getting two perfect handfuls of her delicious ass to grope while she turns the TV on to something mindless.
"Maybe one day we'll actually finish a movie," Xiaoting purrs, watching you squeeze her ass to your heart’s desire underneath that tight, sheer fabric that can barely contain anything. "Or get past the first twenty minutes."
"Movies are overrated, so are these pants that need to fucking come off,” you say, and that’s something Xiaoting can definitely agree with, offering no objections when you peel those pants off her hips, until they hang off her bare ass. Which you get a little greedy with—slapping to make it jiggle, nice and slow until the slaps get a little faster, a little louder, putting a little red on those pale cheeks just the way she likes.
"What would a movie be without a little snack?" she grins back, face flushed, knowing just what's coming when you spread her ass and run your wet tongue all over. That's just to tease Xiaoting, easing inside between those cheeks as your face buries between them, driving all inside her puckered hole and swirling to hear her gasp.
"Mhm. You must be starving, you poor thing. My ass really does taste the best, right?"
"No arguments there,” you say with the saliva smeared around her tight little asshole, as your fingers dig into her asscheeks and pry her apart to make the experience that much more delicious. And that's the exact thing she craves most, giving out a loud groan when the tip of your tongue gets as deep as possible, squeezing a pillow underneath her chest. "Nothing beats my tongue in your ass..."
With Xiaoting focused on the screen again, you swirl your tongue over her pretty little hole, plunging deep for a few swipes before looking at your handiwork. A mess of saliva glistens, one that you plan on improving on. That's why your tongue sinks all the way inside her hot, greedy asshole, lapping with enthusiasm with such delight.
“Right where it belongs," Xiaoting says with a loud sigh, your tongue keeping her tight hole so wet. The more attention you shower, the more she finds it harder and harder to focus on the screen, giving in.
All prone, she's helpless while you tongue-fuck her asshole, flicking back and forth as spit falls from between your lips, making your pants feel unbelievably tight the whole time. Xiaoting only pulls away for a fleeting moment, so she can slide those yoga pants the rest of the way off and sit that plump ass right against your face, returning the favor by devouring your hard cock at the same time.
She makes it so easy for you to get your tongue deep inside her ass, with the heat of her mouth that surrounds your shaft, with every inch finding its place in the back of her throat with ease. Her wet lips seal so tight, bobbing her head so effortlessly and only coming up for air when necessary.
It’s the perfect encouragement to return to worshiping her ass with your tongue buried deep, while Xiaoting only works faster, every sloppy suck matching the wet, frantic licks of your tongue between her cheeks.
Xiaoting can’t help herself when she puts all her weight down, so those heavenly cheeks can grind against your face—until she's cumming again, this time even harder with your tongue fucking her little asshole. And then it's your turn, squeezing the pale flesh of her deliciously round ass, nails digging deep as your cock spills another load of cum straight down that hungry throat.
"All that money we just spent on groceries and you just wanna eat my ass," Xiaoting pants out when her mouth lifts from your throbbing tip, fingers cradling your balls, a messy sheen of saliva connecting them to her lips.
“Forget the groceries,” you mutter, dipping in to devour her once more. “I’d rather have this ass for every meal every day of the week."
✦ ✦
Now that you're all tuckered out, Xiaoting curls up against you in bed, hooking a leg right over your waist and resting there. She moves close enough so you can kiss her again, noses bumping as you pull her close. "Could use a nap now, after that, don't you think?”
You're more interested in just a few lazy kisses and being close like this, peppering her skin with your lips, nuzzling your face right against her neck. "Yeah, a nap sounds good. Just a quick little cat nap, then maybe—"
"Maybe what?" Xiaoting asks in this innocent voice, too innocent, that doesn't fool you for a second.
"A nap, and then maybe another round in your ass. See what the mood is like." You plant another kiss at the base of her neck, lips lingering a little more this time before parting.
"Not going anywhere. I'll be here when you wake up," Xiaoting says, running a hand through your hair. "Until then, you can just dream about all the different ways you can destroy my ass."
✦ ✦
To no surprise, a cat nap turns out to be a long slumber, waking to something wet and warm between your legs. When you manage to pry your eyes open, Xiaoting is back at work underneath the sheets, those lips wrapped perfectly around your cock again.
"Hey, you’re awake—this looked painful, so I figured you'd want me to do something about it.” That's all she has to say while she plants a firm kiss on your swollen head, lifting the sheets enough so you can have a clearer view.
"God, you spoil me too much, Ting."
Lips down to your base in no time, you barely have time to take a breath. There's nothing to do except just watch, groaning as that eager mouth takes you down faster than ever. "Nonsense. Your cock deserves to be spoiled whenever possible. Now what do you say we finish off that bottle of lube?”
Well, she’s already made you hard as a rock, so that gets your attention in no time. The sheets get thrown aside, Xiaoting gets flat on her back with those long legs folded up against her chest as she holds them in place. And then there's nothing else left to do but sink right in, every slick inch disappearing into her tight, little welcoming asshole.
"Fucking hell, Ting, nothing beats this tight ass," you groan, driving your whole length in while she whimpers at the feel of you stretching her out. "Absolutely nothing. So goddamn tight."
"Only way to start a weekend, fuck—stretch my tight little hole with this huge cock," Xiaoting responds, gasping when your hips pick up speed, the initial resistance dissipating more and more each thrust you drive in.
"So fucking tight," you can't help repeating over and over as that clenching hole envelops your cock with ease.
Xiaoting hugs her legs tight, keeping them in place so you can plow deep in her ass at whatever pace you like. Every plunge into that delicious hole feels like heaven, all this warmth and tightness suffocating your thick shaft, while a wide, satisfied grin stays etched all over her face. "Feels so good being in your ass, Ting. Love being this deep. Love being inside you."
There's not a single shred of hesitation while she watches you get deep, always the most expressive when you're splitting her ass open. "Fuck me just like that, keep fucking this ass, oh my god—"
You'll happily oblige that request, more than content to keep slamming deep in her, every thrust feeling better than the one before while you watch the bliss extend on her face. From the way she bites down on her lip, to the loud, ragged moans you drive out. Nothing could be better. Nothing can compare—not a goddamn thing.
"Need to fucking cum," you warn with the mounting pressure that comes sooner than expected. Xiaoting starts working her fingers furiously between her legs while you drive yourself as deep as you can, no chance to fight the urge taking control.
“Then do it, baby—cum, cum for me, please. Give me all of it,” she whimpers, desperate for your release. That tightness around your cock gets to be too much, and you just lose all rational thought as the moment quickly approaches. And as good as it feels in her ass, you can't stop looking at her flushed features, imagining how good she’ll look with that hot load emptied all over her.
So at the last second, you pull out and straddle Xiaoting's chest, unloading everything with a grunt all over her lips and pretty face. Every shot blasts across her beautiful features in heavy spurts, leaving a smile with her tongue out to capture what drips down. A near endless amount, your cock throbbing with every burst, until she looks like a fucking mess. The beautiful sort.
Once you've emptied everything, stroking the last bit out directly on her tongue, Xiaoting just stares through all the mess with such a look of elation, nothing left to do than give a kiss to the tip once there’s nothing left to empty.
“You're so gorgeous, Ting," is all you manage, panting as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Covering me in your cum will do that,” Xiaoting says as she sighs with such content, your cock twitching with every lingering kiss, swirling her tongue around the swollen, sensitive head. "Still lots left to empty, too. Right? Good thing we bought extra lube.”
"Might need a whole case at this point," you gasp out, still out of breath.
"And you didn't even fill my ass with cum yet," Xiaoting remarks, gently kissing the underside of your spent cock. She licks your length clean, slowly moving from top to bottom to get every last drop, looking so messy the entire time.
"Don't you worry, there's plenty left in me for that later.”
✦ ✦
Dinner comes in a bag, despite the fridge and pantry full of groceries. You both decide on delivery, neither with enough energy to put much effort in making anything. A few beers and Chinese food is the perfect remedy, eating on the floor in front of the TV as Xiaoting wears little but a long shirt that just barely covers her ass.
"This movie is so bad, Ting. Why do I let you keep picking again?" you ask, mouth still stuffed with noodles, offering her a share from your container.
"But they're the right type of bad," Xiaoting reasons, slurping away. "They're supposed to be terrible."
You sigh, trying to swipe some food from hers, but she's far more dexterous, blocking you with a quick jab of chopsticks. "Hey, those are mine. No stealing."
"So you'll take my food but expect me not to steal yours?" you shoot back.
Xiaoting gives it some thought and offers no apologies, opting for a quick kiss instead. "Exactly. What's yours is mine. Like your dumplings. And your cock. Both delicious."
An eye roll is all you can offer, going back to your food and washing it down with a huge sip of beer. You both sit quietly with only the low rumble of the movie, Xiaoting planting little kisses here and there until she falls asleep on your shoulder.
✦ ✦
Chinese food devoured, movie forgotten, and now you've moved from the floor back to the couch, where Xiaoting is all stretched comfortably across, her bare feet resting in your lap while you massage them. A pile of shuffled cards sits on the coffee table, empty bottles of beer piling up on either end. Your focus is on watching Xiaoting fall apart between hands of poker, fingers kneading deeper into the sole of her foot.
"Pretty sure you're cheating," Xiaoting complains, getting the last swig of beer and putting the empty bottle on the coffee table with the others. "There's no way you could win three games in a row unless you're playing dirty."
"Or maybe you're really bad at poker, Ting. Just like you're bad at picking movies," you reply, pressing your thumbs deep into the arch of her foot, hearing a long, content sigh spill right out.
"No, that's definitely cheating. Distracting me definitely counts as cheating," Xiaoting pouts with this little whine, leaning her head back and relaxing.
"Fine, no more cheating then." And that's when you move her foot away from your lap, back to the couch as the pout remains.
"Hey, I didn't say to stop. My feet deserve more attention, and I was enjoying that," she says, moving her other foot on your lap so you’ll get the message. "Go back to what you were doing. Come on, keep going."
You shake your head and sigh, before digging your thumbs into the ball of her foot, getting in deep and making the smile return.
"Thought you said not to distract you. Saying that and then telling me not to stop are two different things," you argue, continuing the massage.
"I'm not distracted," she shoots back, curling her toes as you grip her foot nice and tight in your hands.
"Of course not."
"I'm not. Can't a girl just enjoy a foot massage without accusations?"
"No. Now play your cards."
She sighs dramatically, adjusting her foot in your lap before peeking at what she has. "Fine, then. Since you want to keep cheating—it's time for a little bet."
A curious glance lands on your face as your gaze drifts upwards. "What kind of a bet?"
"Whoever loses the next game, the other person gets whatever they want," Xiaoting offers, trying her best to stay serious, in contrast to that giggly little smile that creeps up.
“Like what?”
"If you win this round, I'll stop picking the movies we watch on Friday nights."
"That's it?"
"And you get to fuck my ass. Here, the bedroom, the balcony, I don't care."
"How is that a bet? How is that anything different to every night?" you argue, although, the idea of getting her ass anywhere isn't exactly a negative in the slightest.
"Okay, fine, whatever. Sorry for wanting to make things interesting, you ass," she retorts. “Ugh. Then—if you win this round, I'll wear whatever you want next time we fuck. Pick the clothes. Dresses, skirts, stockings, heels—anything. I'll wear a maid outfit if you want."
"You have a maid outfit?"
"Maybe. I might. Anyway, that's not important, because I won't be wearing it, so—now what do I get?"
"What do you want? Your ass will still get fucked whether I lose or win. So pick whatever you want. Something different."
"How about, if I win—I get to tie your hands together and blindfold you. And I get to ride you at the same time. What do you say?"
That's an answer that you didn't expect, especially given how often Xiaoting prefers a hand around her throat, or arms pinned behind her back. But the visual is incredibly appealing and hard to turn down.
"Deal."
✦ ✦
"Three aces? Oh, looks like you won, Ting," you say, tossing the cards down and faking your best smile when you see what Xiaoting has. "Lucky you."
But Xiaoting doesn't look exactly like the winner in this situation, narrowing her eyes in response, immediately suspicious.
"Something's not right," she says, pausing to gander at the discarded pile of cards on the coffee table. "You were winning all this time and then suddenly your cards go to shit?"
"That's just how the wind blows sometimes. Win some, lose some, you know."
"You can just say that you threw the game, loser," Xiaoting huffs out with an exaggerated sigh. "You wanted me to win and tie you up. Just be honest."
"Look, I get all the sex with you already. Why would I need to resort to something like a game of poker just to have my pretty girlfriend tie me up while she's riding me? Honestly, Ting."
"Oh shut up. Just meet me in the bedroom in like, five minutes. I'm gonna ride the fuck out of you, and there's nothing you can do about it," she says in her most playful tone, hopping from the couch and ruffling your hair on the way as she gathers up all the beer bottles to clean up.
✦ ✦
Five minutes turns into twenty after you're handcuffed to the headboard, naked and spread across the bed as Xiaoting crawls back on the bed.
"Sorry, took me forever to find something to blindfold you with," she says, straddling you in just her pink thong, leaning down with a kiss while a black strip of cloth goes over your eyes. "There, I found your old necktie, should work until we get something better."
Everything's dark, but you don't feel an ounce of fear or anxiety. Xiaoting isn't exactly the dominant type, or typically the one who pulls the reigns in, not that you're exactly the bossy type either. Sure, there are nights where it's good to bend her over the kitchen counter, a palm ready to spank that tight little ass, but most times, both of you are very keen on just taking turns being on the giving end, until you've both collapsed on the bed all satisfied.
"You have to tell me if you can see me," Xiaoting whispers, the anticipation hitting hard. "No cheating this time. Tell me if you can."
"Nope, can't see a damn thing."
"Good," she says, and there's an eagerness in the way her breath tickles the surface of your ear, something about not being able to see or touch her, relying on every other sense to perceive what's around you. The loss of both adding an extra element of surprise that feels almost entirely new when the first drop of her hips makes her silky cunt swallow you up, the first bounce so much sweeter.
"Jesus, fuck," you mutter out with such a helpless groan, at how incredible that wet cunt feels, impossibly tighter, if that were at all possible.
And without your hands to control her motions or encourage, there's the faintest bit of desperation, wanting to grab any part of her you can as she picks the pace up. Xiaoting, on the other hand, doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, her fingers digging into your chest as the bed creaks every time her thighs come down, the squelch of her cunt a clear indication as to just how wet she is for you right now.
“Just relax. I got you. Let me do the work this time, baby," she says, slamming that ass down harder on you, to make you far more sensitive, everything heightened, every tight squeeze making your head spin.
You're still reeling from the start, and now the heat enveloping your shaft is making every sensation that much more intense, with how your shaft gets so deep inside her tight walls. The constant clench and roll of her hips has you throbbing hard, the weight of her naked body pinning you against the bed while she rides you like never before.
"Your cock always feels so fucking good," she moans out, hands roaming and nails scratching along your chest, while each slow lift of her hips threatens to force you right out before it slips right back in.
"So does your pussy, fuck—love when it squeezes me like that, just like your tight little asshole," you say, gritting your teeth to withstand the cold steel wrapped tight on your wrists as Xiaoting quickens, bouncing her whole body faster and faster.
"Can't believe you let me win, fuck—you get my tight pussy and you don't even have to do anything. Just lie there while I bounce this ass on your thick cock. Your lucky day."
"Luckiest fucking guy alive.”
✦ ✦
"Slow down, seriously, oh god—I can't cum again, you made me cum so many times. Give me a break—"
"Like you said. I can't get enough of you."
Xiaoting cries out this beautiful whimper when the overstimulation gets too much, grabbing your head to force you away from between her delicious, dripping wet cunt, breathing all uneven. The sheets are already a disaster from how many times you’ve used this bed, an overabundance of sex and sweat and fluids, and whatever else.
But that fucked-out look, Xiaoting completely worn out and gasping for air is priceless, so is the slick on your fingers when you dip back in one more time.
"I’m serious, you have all this energy and I'm tapped out," Xiaoting sighs, shifting over on her side as her breathing is slow to become normal again. "Don't think I can cum any more tonight."
You look at the clock, sliding over and peppering Xiaoting with kisses. "Almost 1 am. Which means it's a new day. Timer goes back to zero, I'd say."
A heavy sigh leaves her mouth as her eyes shut for a few seconds. "Are you trying to kill me? Did you take something before the night started or something? Your dick can't still be hard. It can't be."
"When you're around me, yeah—you’re the pill the keeps my dick hard, Ting."
Xiaoting can't help but giggle and cover her mouth, cheeks reddening. "You're so fucking corny, I can't take it. That is awful. God, just awful."
"Now you know how I feel during all those movies you made me sit through."
"Oh fuck you, they're amazing," Xiaoting says, half-heartedly throwing a punch that just bounces right off your chest. "But no more for the night. At least not right now. My cunt needs some time to recover. After how hard you fucked me out there on the couch, then in the shower. I didn't even know my legs could fold like that."
"Weren't you a gymnast? So you must be very flexible."
"I didn't get fucked senseless while doing that! And that was a long time ago. I didn't make that part of my routine, thank you."
"I mean you could make that a routine if you really want. Early morning mating press. Or nighttime if you want."
"Listen—ugh, I can't deal with you right now. Come here and kiss me, you dumbass."
✦ ✦
Far after midnight, you find yourself out on the balcony, watching the sweat glisten off Xiaoting's naked body under the stars, with your hands roaming all over every inch of her sinful curves. She looks back over her shoulder while you fuck her ass, all bent over the railing, those delicious cheeks smacking back against your hips with every rough thrust.
"Can't believe we're fucking on the balcony again," Xiaoting groans as she grips the railing harder, peering down at the world below before shifting her gaze back to you. "This loud, this late. There's no way the neighbors don't hear this, how good you're splitting my ass open."
"No better way to end the night,” you answer, hips smacking harder against Xiaoting's body, that tight ass that jiggles so deliciously from the impact. “Besides, always gotta leave room for dessert."
A giggle spills from her lips with a little quiver. "Is your cock in my ass what you're calling dessert now? God, I swear it's your favorite thing to eat, so that seems fitting."
You hold Xiaoting's hips tighter and plunge inside deep enough that those satisfied groans unabated, balls slapping against her cunt every thrust, stretching her greedy hole. "You say that like your ass doesn't love swallowing my cock so much. So tight, so fucking tight, never letting go."
"Just shut up and keep pounding my ass. Keep that thick cock all the way inside, god—" Xiaoting pleads, fingers clenching as she clings onto the balcony, head hanging low. “Until I can't even fucking walk straight."
Then there's nothing left but the sounds of your cock slamming into her ass, those pretty cries and moans in the dead of night.
And you give and give, as much as Xiaoting can handle, as much as you can. Which is clearly more than ever before, the harsh clench of her ass begging for you to keep pumping into her, your hips smacking hard against those pale cheeks with every thrust.
"My ass needs your fat fucking load, god, fill me already," Xiaoting demands, pushing back onto your throbbing shaft so you can get even deeper. Won’t be long now, with how her back arches, how the sweat drips down her body, how she looks back at you so desperately—
You have only enough left to slam into her a few more times, with your greedy hands gripping hard, hips on repeat until the final moments.
"Don’t worry, gonna fill this tight little asshole, Ting, god—“
That’s your only warning as she can feel every twitch, every desperate throb, knowing exactly what to expect next. And then you unload right in her ass, that grip so tight around every inch of your cock as you cum inside her, flooding her stretched hole while you pump it all deep.
"Should have done this first thing,” you say, groaning as your cock throbs and your balls empty inside. “After those goddamn yoga pants you made me stare at.”
Xiaoting only laughs, grinding her hips back, milking the last drops from your aching balls. "Poor, poor you. My ass is just too irresistible for you. Just need to put on a tight little pair of pants to drive you completely fucking crazy?”
"Hey, don't make it sound like it’s my fault. You're the one that didn’t wear panties. You know exactly what you were doing."
"That was an innocent mistake," Xiaoting defends, unable to fight back that giggle. "Sometimes a girl forgets and does her laundry later at night. Honest."
Your spent shaft slips from her ruined hole, resting on her ass while watching a thick stream trickle down her thighs. "There's not a goddamn thing innocent about you, Ting."
"Yeah, maybe not. Not like you have room to talk. How many times did you blow a load inside me tonight? Or across my face? Or all over my ass? Go on, tell me."
"Not as many times as you came from getting your little tight asshole ruined," you counter, moving aside and falling back in the nearest chair to catch your breath.
She laughs, legs weak while hobbling over, straddling your lap with that sticky warmth spreading between her thighs. “Whatever, not my fault my ass is amazing and you can't stop filling it.”
Your hand finds its way up her back, fingers roaming through the sweat before you tug her in close, sharing in that languid kiss that you have just enough energy for. “Really picked the right person to live with, I guess. Lucky me."
Xiaoting just keeps those lips pressed against yours, slow and gentle until she pulls away. "Mhm. You got very lucky. Isn't this much better than bringing random girls from the bar home, anyway? I think I'm far better than some girl who does erotic photography for strangers..."
"Much better. But you would make a killer model," you say, leaning back into the chair and just basking in the affection Xiaoting gives.
"What, you want people to watch my ass being pounded? As if you haven't already given everyone on the balcony a show for free? Wait, don't answer that. Pervert."
"As much as you love showing off your body, no thanks," you respond.
"True, this body is only for your eyes, no matter how good the paycheck is. Nobody but you, my love," Xiaoting starts, cupping your face in her hands and staring at you with those devastating eyes. And then a smirk comes with that look. "Although, I am willing to play with other girls if you're feeling a bit generous. Because I know you'll like the results."
That snaps your attention right back. "Come again? And here I thought I had a monopoly on this ass of yours."
"Oh, you do. You always do. But don't you think I'd look pretty eating out a friend of yours while you pound my asshole? Come on, there's gotta be someone who catches your eye. Name the lucky girl and I'll do anything to make you happy."
"Okay, who the hell are you, and what have you done with my Ting?"
She lets out the softest, sweetest laughter, kissing your forehead. "Who was that one girl you slept with a while back? With the huge tits and the red hair?"
"No idea. Her name must have slipped my mind."
"Hey, don't be selfish. Tell me, you ass. I know you remember, you wouldn't forget a girl with tits like that. Nobody would—I bet that titfuck alone was amazing.”
Now you’re blushing more than ever expected while Xiaoting awaits a response. "Who said we did that? Maybe we just cuddled."
"Oh, fuck off. I'd fuck her tits if I could, too. Now come on—spit it out."
"Chaehyun," you sigh out, completely defeated. "Her name was Chaehyun. Red hair. Huge tits, thick thighs, pretty face. Also short."
"See? Knew you'd remember, just didn't want to share. You're so predictable," Xiaoting chuckles, pulling herself a little closer. "Call her. Tell her to wear some nice lingerie and we'll have some fun."
"What happened to your body is only for me?"
"For you and pretty girls. With nice tits. Fuck it, call her—I wanna see her tits wrapped around your cock while I sit on your face."
"Jesus, Ting. Not even a dinner invitation first?"
Xiaoting presses a few kisses down the side of your neck, nipping a little here and there. "There's no fun in that. We can have a nice dinner afterwards, maybe take her to a fancy hotel or something. Fuck her silly and feed her a nice big bowl of noodles after."
"You're so romantic."
"Always. Now go on—call her in the morning. First thing when you're up. Pretty please?"
Hard to argue with those pleading eyes, and those pouty lips. "What if she's not up for it? Maybe she has a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Whatever floats her boat."
"Girls who put out on the first date don't want relationships," she fires back, trying to ignore your reticent gaze. "They just wanna get railed by some hot guy. And then make him cum all over her massive, bouncy tits."
"How are you more obsessed with her tits than I am? And you've never even met the girl."
Xiaoting stalls, pouting while she steals another quick peck on your lips. "Everyone has their vices. Yours is my ass, and mine is having a big dick tear up my asshole while I play with her tits. Don't be shy. Call her already so we can get this going. Maybe make it a regular thing.”
Again, nothing left to do but sigh. "Alright, fine. First thing in the morning."
"Promise?" Xiaoting asks, offering up her pinky to swear upon, just in case.
"Promise."
And with that sealed pinky promise, she wraps her arms around you, burying her head against your shoulder. "Okay. Good. And one more thing—"
"Yes, love?"
“Promise me we’ll never fuck this many times ever again. I've never been so worn out and exhausted in my life,” she groans, her hot breath right in your ear. “My body hurts and my pussy will never recover at this point—it was incredible, but oh my god."
You can't help but laugh at Xiaoting's ridiculousness as she's wrapped up against your chest. "Promise, Ting. Promise.”
"You might have to carry me into the shower. Pretty sure I'm past the point of useless," she says, barely getting out another laugh. "I'm like jello."
"Serves you right. Maybe now you'll think twice about those yoga pants," you reply with an eyebrow raised.
"Nope. Don't regret them one bit. They make my ass look so fucking good and it really gets to you."
You lift Xiaoting right up, depositing her on the wooden flooring of the balcony. "Well, then have fun limping to the bathroom. I'll go get the water running. Might be cold by the time you get there."
"Wait—no, no," Xiaoting stammers, unable to even hold herself upright against the balcony railing. "You got my asshole all stretched and full of cum, and now you're really just going to leave me out here on my own?"
"You'll survive. Just hang on the railing or something. Maybe you could try crawling to the shower," you offer in response, barely managing to not smile as you start heading for the sliding glass door.
"You ass—come back here and carry me. You fuck a girl that hard you can carry her!" Xiaoting demands, scrambling on wobbly feet after you, catching a hand on the door.
"Don't be so dramatic, Ting. God, fine, get over here. Maybe a bath would be easier anyway."
"With that new bubble bath I just bought—and candles. Lots of candles and bubbles."
And that's when you offer up your back to her, which she immediately climbs onto as you hoist her up and away from the balcony. "My poor useless, Ting. Begged me to pound her asshole so hard and then expects me to pamper her like a queen."
"Just shut up and walk. Bubbles await."
Extra bubbles it is. Because there's nothing better at 2am than a bubble bath with Xiaoting as she rests back against you—candles, bubbles, and a fresh bottle of wine as the night comes to an end.
Nothing better.
---
A/N:
This was written as a prompt led by @usedpidemo, reworked into a more full fledged fic. So apologies if the pacing might seem a little off, and it ended up as a little front-loaded.
It really should take a lot more work to land yourself between Gaeul's gloriously creamy thighs.
At least something that's a little harder than sending a borderline brain-dead, minutes-to-midnight text message; one that would typically get you blocked, or at least slapped, or even more likely—get your shit set on fire again.
But, because you're you, and she's well aware of what that means, all it takes is:
annyeonghaseyo, fine shyt.
—
"You know that you're an asshole, right?"—is the welcome you get when Gaeul lets you past the threshold of her front door.
Making it known she's pissed—greeting you with a huff and that dangerously cute pout. As if she’s not absolutely delighted to see you (at least that’s what you assume).
But any complaints she has are dropped the moment she lets you get your hands on her soft curves—lets you press your thumbs into that absurdly tight, little waist and navigate her around her own apartment.
Her fault really—opening the door looking like that.
Your Gaeul, in all her unreasonable gorgeousness; with that curtain of blonde, silky hair and those impractically tiny shorts that cut off at the top of her thighs. That t-shirt that's a couple sizes too small, feeding into her apparent need to always have her midriff on display. Not that you're complaining because really, who could blame her, considering you could build entire stadiums on those abs.
And in a way, she has.
But, amazingly-sculpted abs aside, Gaeul chooses to shove down her annoyance for now, as things end up at the same place they always do—you, her, and her back pressed up against something hard and firm.
In this case, it’s the fridge.
It's very rare that you ever even make it past the kitchen.
"Good evening to you too," you say and Gaeul just exhales, exasperated, whatever answer she had locked and loaded gets filed away for the next time you arrive on her doorstep all horned up and half-cut.
For now, she just looks up at you.
A ghost of a smile in the corners of her pretty mouth giving her away; the thrill that's hiding there, barely masking the real reason for her irritation.
It has been a whole week.
You meet her gaze. Check the defiance in her eyes—no, it's a challenge staring up at you.
Gaeul doesn’t blink. Neither do you.
She goes on the attack, swipes her tongue ever-so-slowly over her lips, takes a deep breath that makes her chest heave, stretching out the single word plastered across her t-shirt.
Your eyes venture downwards.
You lose the contest.
Gasp, indeed.
And there's her grin now, sugary-sweet, like whipped cream and strawberries—the usual flavour she wears on her lips whenever you come around. You let her have her little victory.
Taking your time, opting to dare a quick glance away from her—across the kitchen, to address the weird feeling that's been scratching at the back of your mind ever since you stepped foot inside.
The suspiciously clean surfaces, wiped-down counters, and—did she actually mop?
Gone are the grocery bags she's usually too lazy to put away, the dishes piling up next to her sink, the takeout containers littering the countertops.
And in their place is just clean marble; closer to a display kitchen than an actual lived-in home, complete with the composed framing of two near-full wineglasses, a barely touched bottle of red, and a bouquet of flowers teetering on the corner.
Correction—roses.
There's a bouquet of roses.
Gaeul hates roses.
"You had a guest," you say, flatly.
She treats it as an accusation. "So?"
"Hot date?" You're asking, not really expecting an honest response. Just something to tease her with—other than the fingers that skate under the hem of her top, over the tightness of her stomach; or your lips drifting down behind her lobe, her cheek, further onto her chin. The usual motions that make her body hum. "Did it go well?
That hot, tiny exhale into your ear when you suck a mark into her neck is your answer.
Christ.
"What do you think?" Gaeul gets out, shaking her head, "yeah it went amazing—he's in the bedroom, waiting for his turn."
"Might be waiting a while then," and you're laughing and being evil because now you have one hand heading north, rising beneath her top and higher and higher along her stomach, while your other travels even further south, engaging in battle with her unnecessarily tight pair of denim shorts. She must have sprayed them on to get it to fit around her peachy ass.
Never mind.
Only a matter of time before they're hurtling closer to their destiny of eventual ruin.
You settle with just getting a handful of her.
Well, two.
Her breast spilling through your fingers. Her plump ass cheek filling your palm.
A thought occurs to you as she lets out her first, true, honest noise of the night.
A lovely little moan.
You pause.
"Wait, you brought him up here for a drink? On the first date?" Your words come quick. Not that you’re hurt. Just a tad incredulous. "Damn, I hope he appreciated it. It took me like... well, it felt like a lot?"
"Please." Gaeul rolls her eyes. Not the last time you'll make them do that. Your fingers tug at her waistband, attempting to loosen a particularly stubborn button keeping her shorts fastened. "We haven't even been on a first date yet."
You blink. Now you're actually hurt. "What do you call these visits?"
Gaeul tilts her head. Raises an eyebrow.
Gives you a second to get lost in her eyes. The setting of her jaw. Her lips.
She's far too distractingly pretty for her own good.
Your question goes forgotten.
Ah.
Her button pops open.
You let out a little cheer.
She surrenders a smile.
"You're not jealous, are you?"
You feign offence. "Of this guy? Of course not. Just pitying his bad luck."
"Too bad for him, then."
"And all the better for me."
And you're back at it.
Lifting her top over her head—only, leaving it at her wrists. Makeshift bindings to keep her hands pinned above. Stretch her out a little; leave her there in her slowly sagging shorts, her unfortunately boring cotton bra.
But yet, the promise of the firmness of her body; the frame, the posture—those long, dancer's legs and that toned, perfect ass. The tight nubs of her nipples poking through the fabric, pointing like a compass towards your tongue—needing to find their home again so they can be rolled, teased, sucked on between your lips.
And the flush in her cheeks, the sweat that's started to slide down her neck, pooling in her collarbones. The inability to disguise the fact that she's always so willing, always allowed you to have your way with her, never said no, just looked up at you with a challenge and some fire and that locked-in stare filled with anticipation.
The—‘let's get past all the banter and the games and the badly concealed jealousy whenever she goes on dates that lead to nowhere and you come over smelling of alcohol and a faux-expensive perfume that couldn't possibly be yours’, and you both get to the part where you're creating a whole, genuine mess in her kitchen.
Returning it to its proper state of fucked-out bliss—a crime-scene filled with damning evidence that someone was well and truly brought to tears here. Tits mashed into the cold tiles, ass cheeks pressed flush against the countertops.
Cunt made to gush so excessively the apartment below thinks there’s a leak in their ceiling.
So, yeah.
That.
You reach out. Brush a curl of blonde out from her face.
She leans her cheek into your palm.
You kiss her.
That's always a good place to start.
Her heels lift to meet you, you're too tall for her. Or maybe she's just so much smaller, and it's all by design, that need that's built into her. That thing that triggers the primal urge to hoist her up, throw her over your shoulder, or across the room and onto the nearest bed.
Do whatever you want to her, as long as it's somewhat along the lines of having each and every worry that exists outside the bounds of your presence fucked out of her pretty little head.
She bites into your lip when you try to slip your tongue past hers.
Laughs down your throat.
She never said she wasn't trying to fuck you up too.
"Oh, your date must have sucked," you say, managing to escape her teeth before she can draw blood. "You probably wet yourself when you saw my message come through."
"That's—" Gaeul tries, but her eyes dart to the forgotten bottle of wine for just a moment. You press yourself into her to take back her attention. "He was nice."
"Boring."
"Actually wanted to get to know me."
"Damn—double boring"
She repeats, "He was nice."
“And I’m not?"
She stops. Eyes look up at her trapped wrists. Then down at her waist, her body. All at your mercy.
You shrug.
Squeeze an ass cheek for good measure.
"Fair point."
"He wanted to stay, but—"
"You couldn't wait to get him the fuck out of here."
Gaeul sighs.
"So you could get me back in here."
Hands still pinned above, and yet. She pushes her hips off the fridge, wraps a leg around the back of yours to pull you in closer. Grinds you into her—pressing that engorging bulge tearing a hole through your pants into her. Making sure that you know that she knows she’s not the only one in need here.
Her neck cranes, and she catches your lips, forcing her own tongue into your mouth.
And there's that fire, that classic Gaeul inclination to burn everything down that's good and nice just so she can feel a little bit of that heat. Just so she can get real, actual warmth only you can provide.
"I really fucking couldn't."
"That's why I messaged," you reply. "I have a sixth sense for shit like this. Damsels in distresses, that kind of thing."
"Is that what I am?"
"A certain kind," you say, unhooking her leg from yours, and at last managing to shimmy her shorts far enough over her cheeks, letting them rest just beneath. Her panties, coral pink and tied off with a bow—a lot cuter than her other choice of underwear—are far easier to navigate.
You slip a finger, two, down, bristling over the light traces of hair. And then—tellingly—hot.
Wet.
"See," you tease, pressing a finger up against the heat, and there’s that deafening sound; the soft squelch as her lips fold around your index, and it's getting sticky. "Distressed."
"Unfortunately," she sighs, or moans again, either way her voice goes all soft and she's starting to melt, sinking herself onto you, cuffing your wrist between her thighs. "Really, fucking distressed."
"I could’ve told your friend. Could've saved him the cheap bouquet," you're saying, surprised at how much more talking you're doing than usual. But maybe it’s the mood. Maybe it's something to prove. "Could've told him he's wasting his time with you because he never had a chance coming up here with good intentions."
Maybe it's the effect that hearing your voice seems to have on her. Hearing you tell it like it really is, treating her like she really likes to be treated—in ways that you just can't tell someone on a first date that you need to be.
"Because all a slut like you really needs is a little bit of pressure in just the right place and—"
"Oh, fuck," she shivers, and your fingers push up and into her. Curling just right, palm pressing just so. Her moans pitch high as you hold her steady, just the weight of your body against her, your grip the only thing keeping her upright.
She's half your weight probably, so you can support her even when she goes all boneless, when she’s too busy finding new and exciting ways to whisper your name back to you, or finding a new place for her teeth along your ear, your neck.
Impossible for her to ever get close to hurting you.
But very easy for her to make you laugh.
You give her the small mercy of letting go of her wrists.
Her bra does a disappearing act quickly after.
"Bet he didn't even get close to doing anything like this." And it's your turn to put teeth to skin; dark, caramel nipples landing between your lips, sugar right on your tongue.
"God, no." Her hands thread through your hair, pulling you into her, muffling your scant thoughts with her tits. "It was the first date."
You get a bit rough. A bit mean. Definitely not coming from a place of insecurity. You sink your teeth in, jab your fingers up. Make her squeal a little. "As if there'll be a second."
"What makes you think there won't?" Gaeul asks, the sound that follows sounding uncharacteristically cruel. "I liked him."
You brush it off. "Not like you like me though."
Her eyes flicker open. Her lips curl into a smile. The fire keeps burning. "Who said I like you? I just like how you—"
"Make you feel," you tell her, not needing your so-called sixth sense. No, you can read her mind well enough—feel it in the way she's flooding her panties. Letting you stretch out the cotton while your fingers do the same on her cunt—picking up their pace.
It's always the same thoughts running through her mind anyway.
I hate you. I need you. Just shut up and make me cum.
What was a careful, sweet science deteriorates, builds. You're kissing into her chest, these tender graces against her heartbeat, but it's more for you then for her.
Because that's what everyone else will naturally do, what happens whenever any mere mortal is put in the vicinity of someone like her—someone as pretty as her.
They worship.
Worship the marvel of toned muscles, her flawless, soft skin. The curves and dips, the tiny, tiny quakes and quivers against your lips.
But stopping there is for losers with red wine and roses.
You know full well she really needs.
Fingers in and out, making her leak. Making her head bang against the metal door behind her, making her ass thump against the fridge. Muscles tighten, thighs clamp down, each one of her tight, ridged abs expand and contract and—oh God.
"I like how you treat me," she's confirming, sputtering really. Because the honesty means she's close, because you both know it's only when she's right on the edge, right when she's undeniably gushing, burning up and all over you, and unable to hide the fact that it's all really just for you, that there's no point in telling anything but the truth.
"Oh?" You're smiling, kissing, heading lower and lower down to the promised land.
Pale white skin prickling as it's subjected to your tongue, leaving behind a trail, a glistening sign that you were here, that this territory is yours.
Her chest is heaving, your fingers right at the trigger, and there's that stray thought of is she really that sensitive—or is it just you.
When you get down to your knees—down to her waist—kiss just at the top of her mound, yank down her panties and pull her by her cunt closer to your lips, you decide to test your theory.
"And how do I treat you?"
Her hips buck again. Clit grinds onto your tongue and she's showing the first signs of cracking, of falling to pieces. Fingers into claws, scraping at your scalp.
Ten minutes ago she wouldn't have dreamed of admitting it.
But you always get her there, anyway.
"Don't make me say it," she says.
You scoff. "I don’t make you do anything. Except, well—"
Lips fasten over her clit. You suck.
She's starting to melt.
"You treat me like a, like a—" She pushes the words through her teeth, singing them into your ears. "Like a slut."
You flick your tongue—once, twice, tried and true steps to oblivion. "A slut?"
"Yours," she breathes. "Fucking yours."
"Is that all?" Your question rumbles into her cunt, your tempo quickening, building until the up-down lapping of your tongue is at pace with the in-out of your now three fingers.
Not long now.
It was always going to come quick. Hitting her hard and fast. After all, she's been soaking ever since your name flashed across her phone screen.
She'll be soaking long after.
"Just mine?" A long, generous lick from bottom to top. "Just my slut?"
"Your whore, your toy, fuck what else do you want from me?" Desperate, panting breaths, pleas. You can't see it clearly from down between her thighs but you can see the traces: red flushing across her cheeks, tears beginning to bud in the corners of her clenched eyes. Throat bulging as she swallows, body rising off the cold fridge door, thrusting her chest out, her stiffened nipples pointing to the sky and it's just about time for you to tell her—
"I want you to prove it."
"I'll—"
"Cum," you tell her. Command her—through her cunt, shoot the word through her body so it reaches up her spine and snatches her whole. And the final push, into her ears, the unlocking of everything she's let build and get bottled up while she went looking for someone nice: "Slut."
"Gah—fucking—"
Gaeul's eyes snap open, going all glassy and dazed.
Greedy—the both of you.
You, sucking out the juices that rush onto your tongue, slipping out the corners of your mouth and leaking down your chin. Getting messy on her, letting her make a mess of you. Pure heat, these shivers against your face, the forceful grinds against your mouth as you go to work against her gasping hole.
And her, in tatters, coming apart. Trying to ride it out for as long as she can—this feeling. Holding you by your hair, keeping you fastened to her, sandwiching your ears with her thighs, burying your nose into her mound, feeding you her delicious cunt.
So, so hot that you already want to skip to the next part—the one where you're cock's flooding her cunt and she's reeling from the fact that no one can make her feel as complete as you, but you're not quite there yet.
"Too much, too much, God—baby—fuck!"
And she's gone—back arching, her voice, her body, all high and pretty and there's the beginnings of a mess returning to her kitchen—going back to its natural state, back to being both hers and yours.
"I can't—can't believe—I can't stand—"
Gaeul goes limp, thighs let go, she slumps forward, and you reposition yourself just in time to catch her as she slides down to the ground with you, falling into your arms.
Still leaking out of her cunt, shorts hanging surreptitiously off one ankle.
You admire your work, take the beat to appreciate her.
Your cute pyromaniac—even with next to no control over her own limbs, still somehow gifting you with the downright irresistible angles of her dilated, fucked-out eyes, the dip of her cleavage into her budding breasts, the sweat now shiny against her abs—glistening with where your tongue was moments ago.
Cunt burning up, cradled against your fingers.
You want to laugh.
Remind yourself that it's only been a week since you last fucked her.
She makes it seem like an eternity.
"You're still such an asshole," she reaffirms between laboured, heavy breaths.
"At least I don't waste your time with shit you don't even like," you tilt your head to the bouquet, the wine. A far cry from crotchless panties and Soju body-shots. "Getting you straight to the part you need."
Gaeul gets her second wind—fistfuls of your t-shirt in her hands and she's both shutting you up and tasting herself on your tongue.
Making herself familiar with the slick left on your chin; licking your face clean, satiating herself with samples of her own flavour.
And now she's sliding her own fingers down, finding you well and truly and obviously hard for her.
She bites your lip again. Sucks on it between her teeth.
You let her linger.
She lets go. Bats her eyelashes. It's so unnecessary. "Do I even need to ask?"
And there's the sparks there, yet another fire she's starting, and you can't help but get all poetic and mushy as you see it in her eyes—she's the flame, the kindle, she's the whole fucking city that you're going to burn down.
Oh, this is going to be a long night of arson.
"There's nothing more I'd rather hear you say."
"Get those clothes off," she says it like a threat, kissing your face, your chin, anywhere she can get her lips. Lifting up your shirt, letting it get lost on a stray pile. "Take out that devastatingly big, hard cock."
You let her have her way, shift around the tiles so she can make quick work of your sweatpants, so she can scrape her nails across your body, mapping you out like you've done to her so many times.
Takes her time drinking in your body, let's her fingers dance around your cock.
Something so innocent in the way she toys with it, in the deep breath she takes while she gathers her words, herself. In her eyes when she refocuses on you and says:
"Give it to me, fill me with it, just really—use my cunt with that beautiful cock until I split in two. And then keep going."
"Is that all?" you say, straightening your posture.
Gaeul nods. Her voice already starting to crack when she answers, "It's a start."
"Right here?" You're asking, but you both already know.
"Do you see any other hard surfaces to fuck me into?"
Your cock stands tall. Free.
You flex it.
She's hypnotised.
"Maybe next time we'll make it to the bedroom."
"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" She teases, but she's already chewing on her lip, trying to keep herself contained.
Habit has her falling into this pose. Leaning back just so. Letting her thighs part. Putting it all on full display—hot lips puffy and pulsing, pretty pink waiting to be taken.
It's all so ridiculous.
And she's still dripping.
You exhale. You're just as insane for her as she clearly is for you.
Her smile turns wicked, telling you, "Hurry up now. If you're not quick enough I might have to call back my date."
"Gaeul," you answer, your voice turning low and firm. Dangerous. You take her by the wrist, pull her forward.
Make her bow before you.
"Let's not get confused about why I'm here and he's not."
Your hand finds its way back between her legs. Fingers returning to her heat.
A light touch.
She shivers.
Your point proven.
But Gaeul's all smiles, and you give her the space to climb on top of you, to straddle your hips, slink her body up and against yours, level her vulnerable pussy-lips with your head, to make first, agonisingly slow contact with your cock.
Let her slide her cunt down your shaft, lather your length in her. Get it all lubricated and throbbing and ready.
You can't help the involuntary twitch of your cock tapping against her pussy. Nor can you hold back the groaned, "Gaeul," she so clearly relishes.
"Yes," she groans right back, delirious, joyful, reaching her hand down between her legs, rubbing her palm against her wetness so she can spread it further down.
Wrapping slick fingers around you, pumping the wetness up and down, around and over your length.
Once, twice—too fucking much.
And sure, the warmth of her touch is nice, the wetness making you start to bead from your tip. But yet, it's now you bucking your hips, bumping your head up and towards her entrance.
Needing a touch of that heat on your cockhead.
She grinds her teeth and makes a noise as you get close to pushing in—past her palm and into her pussy proper.
But she holds firm.
You let her have her way, at least for now.
There’ll be plenty of time to have yours.
"You're right," she tells you, before kissing you again, looping her tongue around yours. "I really needed you."
And for a moment, it's warm.
It's sweet.
Having her on top, holding her like this.
The idea of something different floats through your mind. This long, loving, tender kind of sex.
Nah.
That's not you, that's not her.
At least, maybe not now.
Hands back on her hips, lifting her up.
Gaeul squeals in delight. She knows she doesn't have a choice but to follow.
A gasp—"Ah—yes. That's how you treat your slut."
Oh, she's going to get wrecked.
But first—lifted off your own hips, spun around, bent over.
Ass to the sky, cheek pressed down against the tiles.
"My slut," you say, as you push her down, "my toy," kneeling behind her, levelling your cock with her cunt, "my whore—right?"
You take your time with each word, each well-earned moniker that makes her mewl in delight, whimper back joyful affirmations.
Presenting herself to you, and you're almost succumbing to the temptation of diving face first into her little, gaping cunt again.
Just tasting it once more.
Getting knuckle-deep inside her, maybe a thumb in that perfect rosebud of her asshole and pushing your digits into her until she's drenched the palm of your hand.
Maybe later.
"Please, don't make me wait any longer."
"It's only been a week."
"Yeah," Gaeul admits, and she's closing her eyes, bracing herself. "I can't believe you made me wait a whole fucking week."
And again, your thoughts get in the way. "You could have messaged me first."
"That's not how this works."
You reach forward, running your palm down from the base of her spine over the fine slope of her ass.
You draw your hand back.
Slap hard.
Your name bounces off the walls once more.
"No, I guess it's not."
You inhale. Deeply.
Your reunion is as unceremonious as it is sudden—one moment your cock is hanging just outside of her sopping cunt; feeling the whispers of her lips on your tip.
The next: it's all the way in, swallowed up inside.
A single, harsh, quick, brutal thrust.
Pushing her into the tiles, pushing your weight onto her, making her go from empty to far more whole than she can handle, and if it weren't for your hand on her ludicrously tight waist holding her still—she'd likely fall right through the Earth.
"God—fuck!" She's trembling, barely holding herself together as you keep your cock buried within her.
Only one thrust and she's back to her natural state. Completely submissive, through and through.
You keep your cock warm, let it pulse against her walls.
Deal with how unfairly tight she is. How much of a perfect cocksleeve she is. How completely, utterly fucked of a hold her cunt has on you.
Let the heat sink into your skin, keep your fingertips on her creamy thighs, muscles firming up beneath. Stamp your thumbs onto her cheeks, mark familiar patterns into the dimples of her ass.
Leaning forward to press a kiss between her shoulder blades, a last show of kindness before the rapid descent into filth and undoings so final that no revolving door of first dates with nice, boring guys could ever bring her back from.
God, for someone like her—with her beauty, the whole picture so precious and pristine. Not just how she looks but who she is.
The idol, the centre of attention, the woman literally factory-perfected to be loved, worshipped, to move entire economies.
Now stripped naked and laying her flawless form at your feet, all for your taking.
"Keep going," she's saying, and you're envious at how blissful she sounds. So happy, so satisfied.
Exactly where she wants to be. Treated exactly as she wants.
"More. Harder." And the cherry on top, "You know I can take it."
And the implication—you know no one else can.
You give yourself a last glance at her, the dreamy look on her face, the way her mouth opens in this pleasant, perfect little circle as you begin to draw your hips back and slowly sap away any ability she ever had to think straight, rational thoughts.
At least thoughts that weren't wholly consumed with how mercilessly you're stretching her out.
"Then take it," you say—and your hand comes down again. A hard, sharp spank that turns her cheek crimson.
A starting gun for the both of you.
Your cock sinks back in.
She cries out your name again.
And there's no build up—she's had enough of that.
You've let herself wade into the waters on your fingers, atop your chin, get herself nice and loose and really prepare her—even though nothing quite could—for your particular brand of fucking.
The next thrust comes faster, harder.
You always forget how much Gaeul likes to scream.
Like she has something to prove—like hey, where else will you find someone so perfect, that cares so little about whether or not anyone else can hear. Fuck, she wants it to be known just how desperately needy she is for your cock, how she'd probably die if you ever left her cunt empty again.
Wants it to be known that it's just her that's built for this, built to take this—the spankings, the tears, the curses, the ‘oh fucks' and ‘don't stop, whatever you fucking do, don't fucking stop'.
Only her, only your Gaeul that'll grin through it all and still have the gall to say, "Make me feel it."
"Jesus Christ."
Really brings out the worst in you, your Gaeul.
And you her, but that goes without saying.
You punish her—reward her—with a crash of your hips into hers.
"Jesus—fucking—Christ," she echoes back, and she's fucking herself back into you, hips syncing to yours.
Gaeul, as she always is. Taunting, screaming, leaking everywhere.
"Every time you—fuck—fuck me. Fuck me all up. Make me feel it. Baby, I—"
Building a steady, hard rhythm. In and out, thrust—thrust—fuck—fuck—fuck.
"Meant for this—meant for me. Right? Your cock, my cunt. Perfect fucking fit—no one else—"
And it's unhealthy, this thing. Ruining each other for everyone else, making sure that if they can't tell by the marks you leave across each other's skin, or the smell of your cum in her hair or her juices sticking to your clothes, they'll know by the fact that nothing else—nothing vanilla—will ever get close to turning either of you on like this.
Nothing like it—nothing like this fire. The white-hot heat of her cunt, pulsing and gripping around your cock. Her walls collapsing in on you, begging you to never leave her, desperate to never let your cock go.
Nothing like the sound—not just the whines, the screams, the song of whispers of your name from her lips; but the echo of your hips against her ass, the smack of your balls against her clit, the slick wet tune her cunt makes when it's filled so quickly and completely by your cock.
When your body drops into her and she's so hot, so tight, and you're not sure if your hands on her hips are for her or for you—but you still grab at them, dig your fingers in and pull her closer so you can fuck her raw.
Deliriously smiling, chanting, "God—fuck—just—don't—fuck—", some variations of the same barely audible, tiny vocabulary of words that she has left, and you're fast burning through her lexicon.
It'll continue—won't stop—even after you've made her cum for the second, third, fourth time.
Even after her cunt's overflowing, after you've shot ropes across those cute tits, buried yourself in her throat and filled her stomach with you; hell, ruined the glossy lipstick, the smoky eyeliner, those peroxide-blonde locks.
Even after she's thanked you for doing it all.
Maybe then you might make it past the kitchen.
"Fuck me," she says into the tiles below. Simple, easy.
"That all?"
"Yeah," she manages. Nodding feverishly.
You answer her with a particularly hard thrust. Another spank. Basically—'what the fuck do you think I've been doing?'
And like she's reading your mind, "I need you to fuck me. My pussy needs you to fuck me. Harder. Like you said you would. Like you promised—" even though you don't remember making any such promises (at least tonight), and yet—"Like a slut, a whore, a toy."
"I get it, Gaeul," you say, and you reach forward, carelessly tangling bunches of hair between your fingers until your hand’s buried in blonde. "I'll fuck you like you belong to me."
"I do belong to you. So take me already. All of you, fucking all of me. Until I can't feel anything else."
You pull back, make her body curve so nicely. Reach forward, take a handful of tit into your palm, feel its pebbled peaks.
Make her gasp, cry, make her cunt grip your cock like it's a fucking lifeline—the only thing that can save her.
And the more you think about it, she's right.
You kiss her neck.
She screams when you fill her all over again.
"Just like fucking—that—just do—fuck—whatever you want," she says, blinking through her eyelashes, gasping through tears, through the raspy, fucked-up breaths that she's struggling to take, "just make me cum."
And by habit, your hand drifts from her hair, and your arm wraps around her throat.
Not tight, not suffocating.
Just to hold her against you.
Just to make her feel you.
It nearly makes her cum then and there.
Whatever restraint you had left evaporates, and all your thoughts are just consumed with Gaeul.
How hot she feels, how right she feels.
How her tits feel like heaven in your hand.
How her cunt threatens to tear your cock right off.
How—fuck—you don't know what it is, but something about fucking her as a blonde just drives you insane.
Her back muscles tense against your chest, her abs are working overtime, and with every push into her body, her pussy opens up to you like an invitation.
"Gaeul," is your warning, and her cunt thrumming around your cock is her reply.
Your grip around her neck tightens just a touch, a cough from her throat, and you’re kissing her face, her cheek, the corners of her lips.
Some comfort, if any.
Amongst the rapid-fire fucking, and whatever art you were going for, whatever subtle rhythm of strokes in and out of her cunt—it's all gone.
Using her like she desperately begged to be, like a thing, fucking into her as fast as you can, maniacally, just chasing that feeling, that intensity.
Because you're going to cum soon and you've already fucked her through half a dozen tiny little quakes and it's about time for her to hit the big one—to fucking scream in a way that stretches her vocal cords longer than any performance on a stage could and so—
"Baby—God—you're going to—"
But she doesn't even need to tell you, you don't even need the signal, because you can feel it in the wonderful clench when she shudders and suddenly seizes.
"Pump my cunt full—make me—"
Make her eternally, undeniably yours.
Leading her to the second—followed by the third—or maybe it's just one long, drawn out climax.
One crumbling release that has her limbless; nothing more than a vibrating fuckdoll in your arms, unable to do anything but repeat the same praises that make it past the grip you have on her stomach and around her throat.
"So good—I can't—can’t fucking believe it," she stutters, feeling every wave of her orgasm buzz right through her, igniting her every nerve ending—lighting all of her on fire. "Can't believe how good this fucking feels. How perfect this feels," and despite the fact that she’s still gasping, so fucking delirious, she’s still heaping it on, "How perfect you are. Nobody else, nobody else—"
She trails off, and you know you have the same words for her.
Nobody else could take it like her, nobody else could take you like her.
Could sink down on your cock, could sing through the spankings, the chokings.
Could make you so fucking hard and throbbing and ready to explode—zero to a hundred until you're right at the finish line.
Could twist a gorgeous, angelic face—turn the picturesque features; the cover-model blush and girl-next-door wide eyes into something so filthily fucked up as a simple cum-drunk grin when she takes a hold of your wrist to make your grip on her rougher.
Until it gets hard for her to breathe.
God, the fact that it’s her. Nothing better than a fuck this fantastic.
And she starts begging.
"Please, baby, please, your turn—you haven't used me until you've cum in me—so please," And there's the pleading, the whining, the final push you need, even as she's crashing through another—or, once again you're wonder if it's still the same—orgasm.
"Fucking hell," and you're not even sure your words are reaching her, so you slip in things that you otherwise wouldn't say, admissions too honest for someone like her. Like, "You're fucking incredible, Gaeul, you know that? Such an unbelievably tight cocksleeve. So fucking perfect for me—every part of you—my dirty little slut. Your cunt is just—"
"Show me then," she coos, cries. Working her muscles against you now. Her goal crystalised, determination setting on those sharp, high cheekbones. "Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much better I am than anyone else. Show me why there's no one else you want to fuck in the middle of the night. No other pussy that can make you feel as good as mine."
And she gets the reaction that she wants—that she needs.
Her throat bulges against the crook of your elbow.
You choke her.
Seize her tits.
Fucking her all the way up and into her guys.
She knows.
She fucking knows.
"God—yes—just like that!"
It's wave after wave.
Gagging, stilted moans from her lips—cries, gasps, tears, all of it.
The hottest thing you'll ever see, you know this absolutely: Gaeul's impossibly blown-out pupils all glazed over, and fuck the way her mouth looks when it's slack jawed and open wide and she's just drooling at all of it. The sensations, the overstimulation, the thought of your oncoming orgasm.
It's unreal.
"Fill me—please!"
You pump. You release.
Messy.
So fucking messy inside of her.
Hot ropes of cum—the other burn that she loves—searing against her womb until it's pooling and rushing out the sides of her cunt, escaping the tight seal it has around your cock.
The chokehold you have on her only makes her pussy squeeze you tighter, have her screams turn to hot, hacking moans that makes the hairs on your skin rise and you're just filling her.
Making her convulse, making her body shake, making her rock on top of you as you unleash every single filthy fibre of your being into her.
You're so, so swollen inside her, and it doesn't seem like it'll end—like you'll be stuck here, throbbing angrily between her walls forever, locked in this fucked up loving embrace where you're in a feedback loop of cum and orgasms and—
"Fuck!"
She chokes.
Cums fountains down your cock, your thighs.
Gurgles a final scream and for a moment all either of you can see is the same blinding white flash as you call each other's name.
"Fucking love it when you make me—"
The words never make it out of her bruised throat.
She taps your wrist.
You let her go.
Collapse on top of each other.
Gasping for breath, blonde hair spilling onto your face.
You stays nestled inside her, pulsing, throbbing—whether it's her cunt or your cock, you can't quite tell.
"Christ," she says, and any worry you had of her being anything short of stupidly satisfied is gone. "And I just mopped these floors too."
You hack out a chuckle, between shallow breaths, feeling her body steaming against yours. It feels right. "You good?"
She laughs back. Leans her head just enough so she can manage a clumsy kiss against your cheek.
You realise your arms are still wrapped around her. Not as tight. Just careful, holding your girl still, lightly massaging her spent body.
Whatever kind of affection you can manage.
"What do you think?" And she's still laughing, still kind of sobbing, still trembling, body still living through the aftermath of the kind of fucking and orgasms only you can give her.
Her body tenses, working, trying to loosen the kinks out that locked and knotted themselves when her frame seized in pleasure.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ sometimes I don't even know why I bother with anyone else," she admits, and it's far too obvious, and you know it's all just part of a badly-disguised ploy to get you to make her feel exactly the same way again.
But you'll play along. "Because you want someone nice, remember?"
"Nice doesn't make me cum."
"Sure doesn't," you say. "Not in the way you need to."
And you watch as her eyes drift close, and her lips rest into this copacetic smirk on her face. The feeling of getting everything she wanted—everything she needed.
You want to take a photo of her.
Seeing her all stunning and fucked to oblivion. Covered in sweat, tears, saliva, cum. Still drooling and yet completely, shamelessly, glowing in exhaustion and that sheen of angelic glitter that seems to rest over her after she's been fucked right.
Yeah, you really should capture it.
Add it to the collection.
"Thank you," she whispers, and it comes out like something of a prayer.
You would normally have a quip to make her feel bad for being so honest, but you let it lie for now.
Instead, you roll her, lay her back gently down onto the kitchen floor below.
She keeps her eyes closed, but lets her lips part just a little.
Gaeul knows what you’re about to do.
Spreads her thighs for your fingers, rests her hands around your neck.
You're kissing her again, carrying her back up that mountain, fuelling that fire that will never truly go out while you’re around.
"God—yes. You're really going to ruin me tonight, aren't you?"
"Of course I am," you chuckle, ducking your head to return a nipple to your teeth. It feels so right. You bite. "Again and again until you can't take it anymore—and then we’ll see whether you can ever go back to nice and boring again."
"Good," Gaeul agrees, and you take a final look at your perfect little fuckdoll, just waiting to be picked up and used all over again.
You take a deep breath. Your cock twitches.
Gaeul licks her lips, "You always fuck me harder when you're jealous."
It’s Mina’s birthday and she’s made one very specific request. Her birthday cake is sitting proudly on the coffee table. Mina kneels on the carpet in front of you. She’s wearing her brown beanie with the small bear ears on her head after the two of you went out to buy the cake. The sight of her in it makes your chest tighten. She’s cute and almost innocent.
Almost. Because her lips are already wrapped around your cock: Her eyes are wide and glittering as she looks up at you. Her cheeks hollow with each eager suck. Drool coats her chin before it runs down to her throat, but she doesn’t care. She pulls back with a pleased gasp and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. Then she grins up at you.
“You know what I want, right?”
Her voice is sultry and teasing. Something you rarely experience with your girlfriend. And it doesn’t match her current appearance at all.
You glance at the cake, then back at her.
“You’re serious about this?”
Mina giggles.
“Dead serious. Best birthday present ever.”
Before you can reply, she leans forward again. Her tongue traces up your shaft before she swallows your entire cock. She gags lightly as her throat opens. Her hands stroke what her mouth can’t take. Her moans vibrate around you. Every sound of hers drips with need. Mina’s gaze locks on yours again and it’s full of mischief and lust. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s giving it her all, because she wants her cake decorated with you.
Mina presses a kiss to your tip after retreating again. She’s playful at first, then lets her tongue circle it slowly. She hums as though savoring the taste already. Her hands grip your thighs for leverage as she takes you deeper this time. The sound is wet and lewd as it fills the quiet of the apartment. When she pulls back, spit strings between her lips like small spiderwebs.
“I’ve missed this taste all day.”
Before you can answer, she wraps both hands around your shaft and strokes slowly as her tongue teases the underside of your length, dragging all the way to the base. She licks like she’s savoring ice cream. She’s moaning low in her throat as her eyes flutter closed with each pass. Then she switches. One hand pumps your shaft, the other cups your balls. While her mouth works your tip with sloppy, greedy kisses, her lips pop and smack with every move. Her moans are muffled, sending constant vibrations shooting straight through you.
Your head tips back.
“Mina-”
She pulls off with a teasing grin playing around her lips.
“Don’t hold back. It’s my birthday, remember? I want everything.”
And then she swallows your cock down again. She bobs her head faster. Spit spills down her chin as her throat flexes around you. She moans with each thrust, gagging lightly, but never stopping. If anything, the messier it gets, the more she seems to love it. Her pace quickens. Her hand twists in time with her mouth. Her eyes are locked on you as though daring you to give her the present she’s been begging for.
Mina slows her pace, pulling off you with a soft gasp. Her lips are glistening with spit. Instead of taking you back into her mouth, she presses a gentle kiss to your tip. Then another along the side of your shaft. Her beanie slips slightly as she tilts her head. The floppy bear ears bounce with every little kiss she plants. She trails her lips lower, kissing your length like it’s something she adores. Her tongue follows, slow and wet, dragging along your skin before she presses her mouth to you again.
She pulls back just far enough to whisper with her breath hot on your cock.
“I love this…”
She places another kiss just beneath your tip.
“I love you…”
She kisses again, lower this time.
“…and I really, really love your cum.”
Her cheeks burn red, but the words spill out like a confession. She flicks her tongue across your slit, humming at the taste before licking the bead of precum that’s gathered there. Her eyes flutter shut as she is savoring it. Then she looks up at you again with a shy, needy smile.
“I could do this forever.”
She kisses along your shaft like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I could live on just this. You don’t know how happy it makes me.”
Her tongue glides back down. Her lips worship every inch of your cock as she strokes you lazily with one hand. She presses her cheek against your dick for a moment, sighing contently, before planting another long kiss. Then, more daring this time, she wraps her lips around your tip and whispers around you, muffled but clear enough.
“Please… give me all of it. I want to taste you again and again.”
Mina kisses your tip once more, soft and careful, before lowering her mouth to pepper kisses all along your shaft. Each press of her lips is tender at first, but she lingers longer each time, letting her lips part just enough for her tongue to dart out and taste you. Her hand strokes you slowly, barely even moving. She’s just holding you steady so she can worship you properly. She drags her tongue from the base all the way up to the tip, humming as she does it. When she reaches the top again, she presses her lips against it and whispers.
“So perfect…”
Then she kisses you deeply, her mouth sealing over your tip like she’s leaving a mark. She sighs happily, her tongue tracing lazy circles against your skin. Her eyes flick up at you, wide and sparkling.
“I don’t know what it is…”
She speaks between kisses.
“Every time I taste you, I just… I feel like I need more.”
She presses another kiss lower.
“I love it so much.”
Another kiss higher.
“I love you so much.”
She wraps her lips around your tip for only a second this time. Not sucking. Just letting her mouth rest there. When she pulls off again, a string of spit connects her lips to your tip. With her cheeks flushed and her breath unsteady, Mina lowers her head. She presses her tongue flat along your cock, dragging it upward until the head rests against her lips again. She kisses it gently.
“I’ll never get tired of this.”
She strokes you slowly while her lips leave another mark of devotion.
“Never.”
Mina’s kisses turn needier the longer she goes. Her lips leave wet trails along your shaft. Her tongue slides over every ridge and vein. Her breath is hot and shaky against your skin. She doesn’t suck. She doesn’t rush. She just adores you with her mouth. Her free hand rests against your thigh with her nails pressing into your skin whenever she moans at the taste. The other strokes you lazily in rhythm with her lips, spreading her spit over your cock until it shines.
You groan in your throat, your hips twitching. Mina feels it instantly. The way your body tenses. The faint throb under her hand. She pulls back just far enough to look up at you, her lips parting in a soft smile.
“You’re close, aren’t you?”
Her voice is sweet but dripping with excitement. She strokes you faster now, her tongue darting out to flick against your tip between words.
“It’s okay… it’s my birthday. Give it to me.”
Her eyes flick sideways, toward the small cake waiting on the table. A single candle is already placed in the center. Mina pulls the plate closer with her free hand, positioning it just right while she keeps stroking you with the other.
“Paint it for me… my perfect birthday cake.”
Your breath hitches and your body jerks.
Hot ropes spill from you in thick spurts. They land across the white icing. Mina gasps softly as her eyes widen. She strokes you through every wave, guiding each messy spatter onto the cake. Icing mixes with your cum, white streaks cutting through the light frosting.
By the time you’re finished, the cake is ruined.
Mina giggles, her cheeks red as she sets your cock down gently and leans over the plate. She grabs the fork lying next to it and moves a bite toward her lips. You see your cum glistening on top of the icing. Until it disappears through Mina’s parted lips.
The restaurant is one of those sleek, expensive places tucked into a skyscraper. You sit across from Mina, your wife, dressed in a pale silk blouse that clings to her slight frame like it was molded for her. Mina’s always had that poised elegance about her, like she’s just stepped out of a magazine shoot without trying, and yet her body - soft curves at her chest and hips that show through the fabric despite her modest style - carries a quiet sensuality that makes it hard not to stare. Her long legs are crossed under the table, the edge of her pleated skirt climbing just enough to tease your imagination each time she shifts slightly in her seat.
The waiter fills up your glass, sets the bottle on the stand beside you, and leaves. You lean back, exhaling, the weight of months of sixty-hour weeks heavy in the slump of your shoulders. The endless meetings, reports, and late nights in the office have burned grooves into the rhythm of your life. Every day bleeds into the next; marketing projections, sales targets, scattered meals alone at home, an empty bed waiting until Mina slips in after midnight, too exhausted from practice, photoshoots, or flights to do more than curl into the warmth of the sheets.
Your whole existence has become a cycle: work until your body feels numb, come home to a silent apartment, repeat until you can’t tell the difference between weekdays and weekends. Sitting here tonight, just seeing Mina in front of you, reminds you of how much you’ve been needing a break.
"I’ve been thinking," you start, picking up your glass and swirling the wine before taking a slow sip. "I need to take some time off. Just one week. No calls, no endless charts and budgets, nothing. Just me and you. I want to relax properly, do things together like we used to. No work, no travel, just us."
Mina pauses with her fork halfway to her lips, eyes softening as she watches you. "You look tired," she says finally, calm and smooth as ever, carrying that gentle steadiness she’s always had. "Like you’ve been grinding yourself into the ground again."
"I am," you admit, resting the glass down. "And I don’t want to keep going like this. What’s the point of hustling all the time if I barely get to spend any of it with my wife? So… I was thinking this week. Just us. Dates, maybe a trip somewhere, maybe even just staying home and shutting the world out for a while. Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you."
Her lips part slightly, hesitating, and you watch her set down her utensil and intertwine her delicate fingers in front of her plate. There’s a tension in the small movement, an indicator you’ve seen before, especially when she’s about to tell you something she’s been holding back.
"There’s something I need to tell you," she murmurs, gaze dipping down for a second before lifting back to meet yours. "I’ll be in Japan next week. MISAMO has group activities. It’s a full schedule; rehearsals, promotions, shooting. I won’t be able to be here."
You tighten your grip around the stem of your glass, swallowing the flash of disappointment that surges through you. You’ve spent weeks imagining this break, craving it, telling yourself Mina would be the one thing to bring color back into the blur your life has become. And now…
"So the week I finally take off," you say slowly, forcing your tone steady though there’s sharpness under it, "is the same week you’re gone?"
She tilts her head slightly, a hint of guilt in her expression, though she holds herself with that same graceful composure. "I know it’s bad timing," she says softly. "But you know how it is. I don’t always get to choose. And once everything is confirmed, it’s impossible to back out."
This is exactly what it feels like to be married to an idol, you think bitterly. The dates cut short, the dinners interrupted by late-night calls, the long weeks where your house feels more like a hotel lobby than a home. You love her - it isn’t even a question - but you sometimes wonder if she’s more married to her career than she is to you.
"You promised you'd try to make more time for us," you remind her.
Mina leans forward slightly, her gentle gaze not wavering. "I didn’t forget. And I don’t want you to think I don’t care that you’re exhausted. I’ve been thinking about you too… that’s why I came up with something."
You raise a brow, skepticism heavy. "If I can’t be there to help you relax myself," she says, slipping her hand subtly across the table to brush against your wrist, "then I’ll arrange for someone who can."
You stare at her, confused. "Someone?"
A small, restrained smile forms on her lips. "Not just someone. Two people, actually. People I trust. They’ll take care of you while I’m gone. The week’s too important to let you burn out on your own."
Her calmness, her unshaken delivery, throws you off more than anything. You lean in a little closer, searching her expression for a sign she’s joking, but she doesn’t flinch.
"Mina," you murmur, baffled. "You’re seriously telling me you want to set me up with... other women while you’re in Japan?"
She doesn’t deny it, doesn’t falter under your stare. Her lips twitch almost imperceptibly, and those glossy dark eyes hold your attention steady.
"Yes," she says simply. "I’ve already talked to them. They agreed."
Silence sits between you for a moment, the hum of diners in the background blurring into nothing. You try to process the mental picture she’s planting in your head, the absurdity of it all. Mina, your elegant idol wife, handing you the keys to something so dangerous, so tempting, like it was just another dinner plan arranged by her manager.
"Why would you even…" your tone trails off, mind racing with scenarios.
Mina places her chin gently in her hand and finally lets her smile widen. "Because I know you, and I know you won’t let yourself breathe if you don’t have someone to push that stress out of you. And because I can’t stand thinking about you suffocating alone when I can’t be there."
You can’t decide if she’s serious, teasing, or both. Either way, that soft confidence in her expression makes one thing clear: she’s already set it in motion, and she’s not taking it back.
"Be more specific," you say with suspicion. "Because right now it sounds like you’re… offering me other women. And if that’s what you mean, you’d better tell me who the hell you’re talking about."
Mina doesn’t flinch. In fact, she leans back in her chair with that graceful composure that never leaves her, eyes glimmering under the low light. She takes a sip of wine, presses her lips together softly, then meets your gaze.
"Asa Anami and Kazuha Nakamura." The words slip out steady, deliberate. "They’ll be yours for the week. Do whatever you want with them. No rules, no strings attached."
You stare, almost laughing in disbelief, waiting for her to crack, for her lips to twitch like she’s playing some elaborate joke.
"Mina…" you mutter, leaning closer, making sure you heard right. "You’re joking. You can’t be serious. Is this some kind of prank?"
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, lips curving into the faintest smirk as though she’s amused by your disbelief. "I’ve already mentioned you to both of them. They’ve agreed," she answers, measured but confident, like this insane plan has already been ironed out. Then her tone lowers, her elegance cracked just enough to show a more mischievous side. " The timing is perfect: they're both off this month. Honestly, they’ve been harassing me for months about you… asking when I’ll finally share my husband. Asa teases me all the time. Kazuha, too. They’re young. They’re eager. They’ll be great for you."
For a long second you can only breathe out a laugh, shaking your head, still trying to catch up with her insane calmness. "You’re really telling me my wife, the refined, perfect Mina, the woman I married, is setting me up to… sleep around with Asa from Babymonsters and Kazuha from Le Sserafim while you’re gone?"
"Not sleep around," she corrects gently, her expression never wavering as she crosses her legs again under the table. "It's sex without commitment. That's the difference. I trust you, and I trust them. This isn’t about replacing me; it’s about taking care of you. I want you to get rid of all that stress in the most… effective way possible."
It’s fucking surreal, hearing something so outrageous spill from her lips with such calm rationality. You lean back in your chair, staring at her, forcing yourself to test her conviction. "And what about you?" you ask. "I’m supposed to be spending time with my wife, and now you’re sending me to Japan to get taken care of by two girls younger than me instead?"
Mina sets her wine glass down slowly, deliberate in the gesture. "When I have time," she says, "I’ll join you. We’ll make it a game. It’ll be fun. You’ll rent a house, somewhere discreet. I know you. You won’t do it here, too risky. But in Japan? They are already there waiting for you. They’ll know exactly how to keep you entertained until I can come. And then…" she smiles faintly, tilting her head, "then we’ll take care of them together."
The casualness with which she says it is more shocking than the suggestion itself. She doesn’t lower her gaze, doesn’t break eye contact, waiting for you to process it.
This woman is insane, you think, though the tightness in your chest betrays how much the idea excites you.
"You think that’s what I wanted?" you ask her flatly, trying to cling to some measure of control. "To just… get handed two idols like they’re toys?"
"Isn’t it?" she presses, leaning forward slightly with that same intimidating calm. "Don’t tell me you never thought about it, not even once. You’re too honest for your own good."
You exhale hard through your nose, palms flexing against your thighs, weighing the firestorm she’s presenting. "Not exactly," you admit grudgingly. "But…" Your lips twitch into a crooked grin despite yourself. "It might work."
Her expression softens, pleased, and she reaches across the table again, brushing two fingers against your hand. "It will work. Trust me. You’re stressed, you’re burned out, and I can’t be here. Asa and Kazuha are goddesses, and they’ll devote themselves to you. This really is a win-win situation."
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, something warm stirs in your chest, some twisted combination of relief and arousal, the thrill of knowing that maybe Mina isn’t the quiet saint everyone imagines her to be but a woman who wants to feed a darker, hotter part of your life together. You can’t fight the temptation of it; you can already see it unfolding in your mind, the discreet house, Asa and Kazuha waiting like obedient pets, your wife slipping in when she finally can, that elegant smile promising ruin.
"You really are full of surprises," you say, a low laugh spilling out of you as you take another sip of wine. "I never knew you were this open-minded."
Her breasts rise subtly with her next breath, her blouse pressing faintly around her curves as she tilts her head, her dark hair spilling across her shoulder. "You never asked," she says simply. "But maybe you should from now on. You’ll like the answers."
There’s nothing to say to that except acceptance, and you both raise your glasses. The sound of crystal clinking together fills the silence between you.
And suddenly the heaviness that dragged you to this dinner starts to fade. The loneliness of long nights, the burnout echoing in your bones, even the emptiness of knowing Mina’s career will always own her time - all of it feels lighter, replaced by a hunger you hadn’t felt in months. You cut into your steak, biting into it with genuine satisfaction.
Mina watches you, content, elegant as ever, chewing slowly before asking, "How’s the food?"
You glance up at her, savoring both the meal and the unexpected thrill of her newfound wickedness. "Everything’s delicious," you say, and now you really mean it.
—
Tokyo hits you with that familiar rush the second you step off the plane; the sheer size of it, the electronic billboards plastering faces ten stories high, the world humming with too many people in too little space. You pass through the terminal and catch massive walls of MISAMO advertisements; Mina, standing poised and radiant on the displays, lips parted faintly in that elegant way that makes headlines swoon. Seeing her name, her image larger than life, drives home again what kind of life you’re tangled in… this strange marriage balancing between boardrooms, fame, long absences, and now, apparently, two beautiful Japanese strangers about to walk into the house you just rented.
The place you picked out isn’t flashy by chaebol standards, but it’s private, tucked into a quiet Tokyo neighborhood where neighbors don’t ask questions. A plain exterior, an open interior that’s modern with clean hardwood floors, tall windows shaded by gauzy curtains that let in the gray light of a cloudy afternoon. There’s a heaviness to the weather, humidity clinging in the air, the sky stretching pale as if it’s about to break into rain any second.
Two hours after you settle into the house, the doorbell rings, but it’s not the girls; it’s the groceries you ordered for delivery, the ones you hope will last you through the week. After bringing them in, you put everything away in the fridge and cabinets. Food, cleaning products, alcohol (lots of alcohol), the basics for human survival.
Your stomach finally growls. You change clothes, something more comfortable than your travel clothes, and head to the kitchen, filling the kettle and tearing the foil lid off a styrofoam cup of ramen, half distracted by the silence pressing in on you.
The steam fogs your face as you watch the noodles soften, the smell salty and comforting. You catch yourself chewing the inside of your cheek, restless. You don’t even know Asa or Kazuha. You’ve seen them on stage, on screens, their performances clipped into reels your younger cousins play obsessively at family dinners, but you don’t know them. Not in any real way. You don’t know how they’ll act, how bold they’ll be, how much of Mina’s insane scheme was forced versus mutual. You don’t know what the hell you’re supposed to do the second they walk through the door.
The kettle clicks off. You pour, watch the noodles swell, pick up your chopsticks just as the doorbell rings. It must be them.
Crossing the living room, you grip the handle, swing the door open, and there they are. Two women standing in the cool gray light of the hallway, faces hidden behind oversized masks and big designer sunglasses. Both in casual but stylish streetwear: Asa in a baggy black hoodie tucked into denim shorts that show smooth pale thighs, chunky sneakers on her feet, hair spilling loose under a cap pulled low. Kazuha in a fitted cropped cardigan over a tank top.She is also wearing high-waisted jeans, her figure lean, sculpted from endless training and pilates. Elegant even in disguise, one hand clasped around the strap of the backpack hanging off her shoulder.
Their identical, practiced discretion fades the second you wave them inside. They step across the threshold quickly, drop their bags by the entryway tiles, and peel off their shades and masks as if finally exhaling. Kazuha’s hair shimmers under the light, long, falling to her chest. Her features are cut from symmetry that would make a sculptor weep: sharp chin, full lips, wide brown eyes blending softness into poise. Asa by comparison is mischief embodied, her mouth tugging up immediately into a cocky half-smile, her dark eyes catching yours with no hesitation, no shyness; just a girl who already owns the room without asking permission.
(Of course, Mina is still the most beautiful woman you’ll ever know - your mind insists on it. But denying the sheer beauty standing in your rented home would be like denying fire burns.)
Kazuha is the first to speak, low but clear as her lips curve politely. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you."
Asa smirks, stepping forward a little, more casual, bold without reservation. "Mina’s already talked a lot about you."
That makes you blink. "You two are actually close to Mina? I didn’t… I didn’t know that."
They exchange a glance before Kazuha tilts her head, lips twitching faintly as though she wants to tease. "There’s a lot you don’t know."
Before you can press her, Asa strolls straight into the kitchen space as if she’s lived there for weeks already. She rests her palm on the counter, twists the instant noodles toward her with zero concern, and without a second thought, steals your chopsticks and slurps down a mouthful. Her lips shine from the steam, her laugh soft, playful. "Don’t look so stiff. You’re acting like this is some big deal. Relax, babe. What did you think this was going to be?"
You rub your hand across the back of your neck, the tension knotting between your shoulders, trying not to show how far beneath the surface your nerves really go. "Forgive me if I find this just a bit absurd," you mutter. "Two idols showing up at a stranger’s door because my wife decided they’d keep me company…? You don’t think that’s insane?"
Kazuha steps closer, perching against the side of the counter, watching you with patient warmth. "Stop overthinking," she says simply, cutting through the static in your head. "Maybe that’s your whole problem. Maybe that’s why you’re so stressed all the time. You think yourself into knots until you can’t breathe."
Your gaze flickers between them. The ramen steam curls between you as you cross your arms and lean against the counter opposite them. "How much did Mina even tell you about me?" you ask.
Asa looks at you over the rim of the bowl as she steals another bite, her grin turning sharper, mischievous.
"She only told us the important things: what you like, what you don’t, and…" she pauses for obscene effect, tongue darting across her lower lip, "how you fuck. That’s the part that caught our attention."
Your breath catches at that, the bluntness of it colliding with the ridiculousness of this entire setup. You have to ask, it spills out before you can restrain yourself. "Why the hell would you both agree to this?"
The question earns you an immediate look from them as if what you said is borderline stupid. Asa lowers the bowl, planting it on the counter, then leans closer toward you.
"Because do you have any idea how hard it is for us to get laid in this industry?" she states flatly. "We can’t just go out there. We can’t trust anyone. Everyone wants to brag, or expose, or use us. So yeah, we want it, but we can’t risk it. Mina knows that. So being here? With you? Her husband? That solves everything. You’re safe. You won’t run your mouth, you know the industry, you’re already breaking the rules by even considering it. So who better than you?"
Kazuha shifts in closer, her presence quieter but heavier than Asa’s, drawing you in like gravity. Her eyes travel down to your chest before she lifts her chin, leveling her gaze back up at you. "Come here," she orders softly.
You obey, an invisible pull tightening in your core until the space between you is nothing. She presses both of her soft hands against your blouse, pouting at you with lips that could undo kingdoms.
"Here’s how this week will go. Asa and I are yours. Your pets. Your whores. We’ll wake up naked, we’ll go to sleep naked. Our breakfast? Your cum. Every time you feel stress, every time you feel pressure - we’ll take it from you, with our holes, our mouths, our bodies. All week long."
Her hands run down the front of your torso, brushing faintly against your belt as she leans closer. "And save some energy for when Mina arrives. Because when your wife comes, we’re hers too. Understand?"
You barely have time to process before Asa is stepping even closer, confidence blazing in her smirk as she leans her shoulder lightly into yours.
Kazuha tilts her face upward, closing those perfect lips over yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, a claiming that tastes like the beginning of something irreversible. Warmth spreads across your tongue, her softness lingering before she pulls away just enough for her heavy-lidded eyes to lock yours.
Asa slides in next, stealing her turn immediately, her kiss messy, tasting like chili and steam from the ramen she stole. Her lips press harder, spicier, her tongue teasing against yours and retreating with that cocky grin back in place.
Now that the ice has been broken, the bottles don’t take long to appear. Asa rummages like she already owns the place, crouching low, tugging at cupboards and drawers until she pulls out a couple of decent bottles tucked above the microwave, the drinks you had bought earlier. She holds them up with a grin, like a kid who just found treasure. Kazuha laughs under her breath, shaking her head but not stopping her, and soon enough you’re all pouring drinks into mismatched glasses, cutting the edge off the awkwardness with alcohol.
The first few sips hit smooth, burning just enough to chase away the leftover nerves sitting in your shoulders. By the time the fourth (or maybe the fifth) round is gone, the atmosphere shifts… lighter, warmer, strands of inhibition burning away in the back of your throat. You catch Asa watching you between gulps, her elbow leaned casually across the counter as if she’s trying to read you just from the way you drink. Kazuha sits closer to you, glass balanced in her hand, her hair shining against her pale cardigan as she tips her head back to swallow the liquor.
Asa exhales, dragging her palm across her forehead theatrically. "It’s hot in here," she sighs, slumping against the counter with an exaggerated groan.
Kazuha sets her glass down quietly, looking at Asa and then at you. "Maybe we should change clothes," she suggests, smooth, unhurried, as if she’s already made the decision.
Asa smirks, straightening, tugging at the hem of her hoodie. "You—," she points at you and laughs softly, "stay here. Don’t you dare peek. You’ll see soon enough."
They sling their backpacks over their shoulders before you can even offer directions toward the bedrooms. You raise a hand, about to point them down the hall, but Kazuha cuts you off, her lips pressing faintly into a knowing smile. "We can find them," she says simply, pulling her bag tight against her side before gliding down the corridor.
The house feels impossibly quiet once they disappear. You’re alone again in the living room, glass half full, heart pacing weirdly at the thought of what the hell they’re pulling from those bags. There’s pressure building in your chest, excitement and nerves woven together. You set the glass down.
Maybe you should check in on Mina.
Maybe this is crossing over into a new level of insanity you can’t do without hearing her voice steady you.
You pull out your phone, thumb hovering for a second before placing the call. For a moment, no answer, and you’re about to hang up when the connection clicks on the other end.
"Hey," Mina breathes. "How are you? Did the girls arrive?"
You sink down on the couch, dragging your hand through your hair as if releasing some of the tension. "Yeah," you admit. "They’re here. Just… unpacking or something. I miss you."
There’s a pause, but her breath lingers, soothing and present. "I’ll be there soon," she says. "Don’t sound so weighed down already. This is meant to help you."
You close your eyes, the liquor making your chest feel warmer, looser. "I love you," you say without hesitation.
On the line, you hear her soft laugh; gentle, like she can see through you even though she’s across the sea. "You’re drunk already," she observes. "But I love you too."
You barely register the sound behind you until it’s too late. A presence moves close, warm breath brushing along your shoulder as a hand slips into your grip, pulling the phone effortlessly from your fingers. You snap your eyes open, turning sharply, only to be hit by a sight that knocks the air out of you.
Asa stands there beside you, your phone pressed to her ear, her lips pulled wide into an excited grin. She’s stripped down to black lingerie, lace hugging her curves, her skin soft and glowing under the dim ceiling light. Her bra lifts her small but perfect chest, straps sliding just enough to tease, while her matching panties ride high on her hips, cut scandalously thin at the sides. Her confidence radiates; she’s something untamed posing as casual.
And at her side: Kazuha, kneeling already on the couch, her hands gliding high up your thighs as if they belong there. The cardigan and jeans are gone, set aside somewhere in the bedroom, and she’s left in delicate silvery lingerie, the thin material almost translucent as it presses against her skin like it’s barely hanging on. Her cleavage rounds tightly under the delicate cups of her bra, her toned stomach faintly flexing as she moves. Her hair tumbles forward over her shoulders as her gaze lifts to meet yours, her pout carrying something devastatingly sexy…
An innocence wrapped around pure intent.
"Hi Mina," Asa chirps into the phone brightly, eyes glittering with amusement as she glances at you. "Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll take care of your husband. We promise he won’t be missing you too much tonight."
Your mouth opens in disbelief, but no sound finds its way out. Kazuha presses closer between your knees, her fingers dragging slowly along your belt, teasing the buckle open like she’s savoring every moment of unwrapping a forbidden gift. She whispers carefully, her lips brushing across your stomach through the fabric of your shirt.
"Relax. She wants this as much as we do."
From the phone, you hear Mina’s restrained laugh, controlled even as the sound drips indulgence. "I’m giving you both total freedom," she says smoothly. "Make sure he’s very, very satisfied. He needs it. Don’t hold back."
Your throat tightens as Kazuha’s fingers finally pop the buckle, spreading your belt aside, sliding your zipper painfully slow. Asa covers the mouthpiece briefly and bites down a chuckle before focusing again. "We’ll make sure of it," she promises dreamily. "He’s in good hands. And we’ll be waiting for you here when you come. Can't wait to have fun together." Then she ends the call with a quick goodbye and tosses your phone onto the couch cushions, turning her full attention back to you.
Kazuha pulls at your waistband, tugging the denim of your pants down your thighs until she frees you. Asa kneels gracefully on the floor next to Kazuha. Then they see it: your cock springing free, thick, much larger than they expected. Their surprise is painted plain across their faces, Kazuha’s eyes widening before a pleased pout curves into a wicked little smile, Asa’s jaw slack before splitting into a grin of pure delight.
"Holy shit," Asa mutters, hand already reaching, wrapping around the base with curious excitement, measuring you with a slow slide of her fist. "Mina didn’t exaggerate. You’re… fuck… you’re huge."
Kazuha swallows, eyes glittering as her delicate fingers join Asa’s, circling your length, stroking you slowly as she gasps quietly. "Bigger than I imagined," she murmurs, gaze fixed on the way your shaft twitches at their touch. "Perfect."
Asa leans closer, her breath teasing the head as her lips curve sly. She flicks her tongue once, quick, teasing, before making eye contact with you, whispering. "No more overthinking, hm? Just let us handle you."
Your body stiffens under their touch. The heat of liquor, the surreal reality of Mina’s scheme playing out right here, and the beauty of these two idols kneeling at your feet, stripping you of hesitation, it hits hard and deep. Asa is the first to lean down fully, enveloping your cockhead in the heat of her mouth, lips stretching wide around you as she lowers herself half-way, drawing a moan you didn’t expect to fall out of you so raw.
Kazuha holds your shaft at the base, stroking steadily with practiced rhythm as she watches Asa’s cheeks hollow. Then her pout deepens, and she leans in from the other side, tongue dragging up the thick underside of your shaft where Asa can’t reach, her lips pressing wet trails along sensitive skin. Their movements together merge into perfect chaos; one sucking, throat working to take more of you down, the other lapping, teasing, marveling at the sheer size filling her tongue.
They pull back just far enough to meet each other's gaze, exchanging a wordless understanding before both lean in simultaneously. Asa spits first, her saliva dripping warm down your shaft in thick strands that catch the light. Kazuha follows, adding her own wetness to yours, the slick heat coating your length as their hands return to work together. Their fingers slide easier now, gliding along your skin with practiced rhythm, both gripping you from different angles, twisting slightly as they stroke.
"Finally," Asa breathes, her fist pumping slowly from base to tip, eyes locked on your face. "A real man to take care of. Do you know how long we've been wanting this? Someone who can actually satisfy us?"
Kazuha's grip complements Asa's perfectly, her delicate fingers working the head while Asa handles your shaft, both maintaining that deliberate, torturous pace that keeps you teetering on the edge of desperation. "This cock will be more than enough to satisfy us all week long," she murmurs, thumb circling your tip before spreading more wetness down your length. "Mina chose well."
The way they work together is mesmerizing – no competition, no jealousy, just two beautiful women focused entirely on your pleasure. Asa leans down again, her mouth returning to envelope your cockhead, lips stretching wide around your girth as she takes you deeper than before. Her throat contracts around you, struggling slightly with your size but never stopping.
Kazuha positions herself lower, her tongue working the sensitive underside of your shaft where it disappears into Asa's mouth. She laps at the base, sucking gently on your balls while maintaining her stroking rhythm with one hand.
"Look at us," Asa gasps when she pulls off momentarily, saliva connecting her lips to your tip in glistening threads. "Look how beautiful we look serving you like this."
Yeah, they do look incredible: Asa with her hair mussed, lips swollen and glistening, the black lace of her lingerie contrasting against her pale skin. Kazuha beside her, silver lingerie clinging to her perfect curves, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she continues lavishing attention on your shaft with her tongue.
"Tell us," Kazuha whispers against your skin. "Tell us how beautiful we are like this, on our knees for you."
You hesitate, some part of you still processing the surreal reality of having two of the most desired idols in the world worshipping your cock. But as Asa takes you back into her mouth, deeper this time, her throat working to swallow around your girth, the words begin spilling out despite yourself.
"Fuck," you breathe. "You're both... incredible. So fucking beautiful."
They moan in unison at your praise, the vibrations from Asa's throat sending shockwaves through your body. Kazuha's stroking intensifies slightly, encouraged by your response.
"More," she demands softly, lips brushing against your balls before sucking one into her mouth. "Tell us more."
Asa switches positions with Kazuha now, letting her friendl take your cock into her mouth while she focuses on stroking your shaft. Kazuha's technique is different; more delicate, her tongue swirling around your head in intricate patterns that make your toes curl. She takes you slowly, savoring every inch, her cheeks hollowing as she applies gentle suction that has you gripping the couch cushions.
"You look like goddesses," you manage, watching Kazuha's silver lingerie shift as she bobs her head, taking more of you with each descent. "Perfect fucking goddesses worshipping my cock."
Asa grins wickedly at your words, her fist twisting around your base as she watches Kazuha work. "That's exactly what we are," she purrs. "Your goddesses. We want to be your whores completely."
Kazuha pulls off with a wet sound, immediately switching back to Asa, creating a rhythm where your cock never lacks attention from at least one eager mouth.
"We've been dreaming about this," Kazuha admits, her hand joining Asa's in stroking your shaft while Asa focuses on sucking your tip. "About having a man who could really take control, really use us properly."
"Keep sucking like that," you growl, hips lifting slightly to meet Asa's descending mouth, "and you'll both be mine soon enough."
The promise makes them both moan, their enthusiasm doubling as they work together to bring you closer to the edge. But they maintain that perfect, torturous pace that keeps you from falling over, drawing out every second of pleasure until you're trembling with need, completely at their mercy despite being the one they claim to serve.
Kazuha takes the lead next, her silver lingerie shifting against her perfect body as she positions herself better between your legs. She opens her mouth wide, relaxing her jaw as she slides your cock deeper, deeper, until her lips press flush against your base, her throat enveloping you completely in tight, wet heat. The sensation is mind-blowing; her muscles contracting around your shaft, squeezing you like a vice made of velvet, while she holds herself there for seconds that stretch into eternity, eyes watering but never breaking contact with yours. She pulls back slowly, gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your glistening length before she dives back in, taking you to the hilt again with practiced ease.
"Fuck, your throat feels amazing," you groan, watching her work, her cheeks hollowing as she bobs her head, throat bulging slightly with each deep thrust.
Asa watches intently, her hand never stopping its steady stroking of whatever part of your cock isn't buried in Kazuha's mouth.
"My turn," she demands after a few more deep swallows from Kazuha, practically shoving her aside. Asa wastes no time, wrapping her lips around your tip and pushing forward aggressively, forcing your length down her throat until her nose presses against your abdomen. Her gag reflex kicks in briefly, but she powers through, throat convulsing around you in hot waves. She's rougher than Kazuha, more insistent, her black lace bra heaving with each labored breath as she holds you deep, humming vibrations that make your balls tighten.
And that's how they create a rhythm of teamwork. Kazuha's turn smooth and deliberate, savoring every inch as she deepthroats you with elegant control, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of your shaft while her throat milks you rhythmically. Then Asa, aggressive and hungry, slamming her face down onto your cock, taking you balls-deep in one fluid motion, her throat clenching so tight it almost hurts. Saliva drips everywhere, coating your thighs, their chins, pooling on the couch as they switch back and forth, each trying to outdo the other in how deep they can take you.
"Goddamn, you two are incredible," you mutter, hips twitching upward involuntarily each time one of them bottoms out.
Kazuha pulls off with a wet gasp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before grinning at you. "We know. But we want more. Use us properly."
Asa nods eagerly, still stroking your slick shaft as she positions herself for another round. "Yeah, don't hold back. Use me like the slut I am. Grab my head and fuck my throat raw."
You reach down, tangling your fingers in her dark hair, gripping firmly as you guide her mouth back onto your cock. She opens wide, ready, and you don't disappoint, thrusting your hips up while pulling her head down, burying yourself deep in her throat in one forceful motion. She chokes immediately, a guttural sound escaping around your shaft as her body convulses, but she doesn't pull away; instead, she relaxes into it, letting you set the pace.
You start slow at first, building rhythm, fucking her face with steady thrusts that make her gag and sputter, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth in thick rivulets that drip down your balls and soak into the couch. Her eyes water, mascara starting to run in black streaks down her cheeks, but the look she gives you is pure bliss, hungry, submissive, begging for more without saying a word.
Kazuha kneels beside her, watching with rapt attention, her hand slipping between Asa's thighs to rub her through her lace panties. "That's it," she encourages, words directed at you. "Use this whore. Fuck her throat like you own it. She loves choking on big cocks like yours."
Asa moans around your length in agreement as you pick up speed, slamming into her mouth harder now, your grip tightening in her hair to hold her steady. Each thrust bottoms out, her nose smashing against your pelvis, throat bulging obscenely as it stretches to take your girth. She gags repeatedly, wet choking sounds filling the room combined with the obscene slurping of her mouth working overtime, drool bubbling out and coating everything in messy shine.
"Take it," you growl, lost in the sensation of her tight throat convulsing around you, the way she submits completely to your control. "Fucking choke on it, you dirty slut."
She does, her body trembling as you use her relentlessly, but her hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you deeper if that's even possible, encouraging the rough treatment. Kazuha leans in, licking at the drool spilling from Asa's mouth, cleaning your shaft between thrusts.
"Harder," Kazuha demands, her fingers now slipping inside Asa's panties, making hel whimper around your cock. "Make her throat yours. She's been dying for a real man to destroy her like this."
You oblige, yanking Asa's head down while bucking up sharply, fucking her face with abandon now. Drool pours from her stretched lips, soaking your pants still bunched at your knees, her face is a ruined mess of saliva and tears, but she takes it all, her throat an incredible sleeve of heat and pressure that squeezes you perfectly with every brutal thrust.
"Don't stop," Asa manages to gasp when you pull out briefly to let her breathe, her chest heaving, lips swollen and red. "Fuck my throat until I can't speak. Use me like your personal fucktoy."
You dive back in immediately, silencing her with your cock, pounding away as Kazuha watches with gleaming eyes, fingering Asa faster now, the two of them moaning in tandem with your grunts. The intensity builds, your control slipping as the pleasure mounts, but you hold back, not ready to end this yet, savoring every second of dominating Asa's willing throat while Kazuha eggs you on.
You don't let up on Asa, your grip firm in her dark hair as you drive your cock relentlessly into her willing throat, each thrust bottoming out with a wet slap against her lips. Her gags come in rhythmic bursts, muffled around your girth, her body trembling as she takes the punishment like it's her sole purpose. She's a mess already, but you push harder, faster, feeling her throat clench and spasm around you, milking every inch as you use her like the eager slut she begged to be. Her hands clutch at your thighs, nails digging in not to stop you but to pull you deeper, her black lace lingerie shifting with each forceful movement, her small breasts is heaving as she struggles for air between thrusts.
"Fuck, take it all," you growl, hips snapping forward with brutal precision, watching her eyes water and roll back slightly from the intensity. "You're my perfect little throat whore, aren't you? Choking on this dick like you were made for it."
She moans around you in response, the vibration shooting straight to your core, but you can feel her starting to falter, her breaths coming in desperate gasps when you pull back briefly. Finally, you ease off, yanking her head up by the hair with a sharp tug, giving her the break she needs but doesn't ask for. Asa gasps loudly, coughing as strings of drool hang from her swollen lips, her makeup utterly ruined; black mascara streaking down her cheeks in dark rivers, lipstick smeared across her chin like warpaint from the battlefield of your cock. Her mouth hangs open, panting, saliva dripping in long threads onto her chest, making the lace of her bra cling wetly to her skin. She looks destroyed, beautiful in her debasement, her eyes is glassy but burning with satisfaction.
Kazuha watches the whole thing with hungry eyes, her silver lingerie accentuating the flush creeping up her neck. She licks her lips, shifting on her knees. "My turn now," she says. "I want you to wreck me just like that."
Asa, still panting heavily, her chest rising and falling in quick bursts, crawls closer to you on the couch, her movements sluggish from the exertion but determined. She places a shaky hand on your shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as she looks up at you with those smeared, pleading eyes.
"Make yourself more comfortable," she murmurs. "Let me help you out of this."
You comply without a word, lifting your arms as she tugs the shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Now shirtless, exposed, you feel the cool air of the room against your heated skin, but Asa doesn't give you a moment to adjust. She leans in immediately, her tongue darting out to circle one of your nipples, teasing it with light flicks before sucking it into her mouth.
Beside her, Kazuha positions herself perfectly between your legs, her hands sliding up your thighs as she takes hold of your throbbing shaft, guiding it to her waiting mouth.
You waste no time. Your hands weave into her long hair, gripping tight at the roots, and you pull her down while thrusting up, burying yourself deep in her throat in one swift motion. She gags instantly, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through you, but she relaxes into it, her throat opening up to take you fully, tighter and hotter than before.
You start fucking her mouth hard, no buildup, just raw intensity, pulling her head down to meet every upward snap of your hips, your cock slamming into the back of her throat over and over. The resistance is delicious, her muscles are contracting wildly around you, squeezing like she's trying to wring every drop of pleasure from your body. Saliva spills from her lips in waves, coating your length and dripping down her chin. Her face is turning red from the effort, cheeks flushing deep crimson as she struggles to breathe around your relentless pace.
"Oh fuck, yes," you moan, your hips moving on their own now. "Take it, Kazuha. Take every fucking inch down that tight throat."
Asa keeps up her assault on your nipple, sucking harder now, her tongue swirling in wet circles while her free hand pinches and twists the other one, amplifying every sensation. She moans against your skin, the sound muffled but encouraging, her body pressing close to yours as she grinds subtly against the couch, clearly aroused by the scene. "Give it to her," she mumbles around your nipple, popping off briefly to speak. "Fuck her face until she can't think straight. She's loving it, look at how red she's getting, how she's choking for you."
Kazuha's eyes water, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the drool that cascades from her stretched lips. Her throat bulges with each deep thrust, the outline of your cock visible against her neck as you pound away, her gags turning into wet, desperate glurks that fill the room. But she doesn't pull back; instead, she pushes forward, meeting your movements, her hands gripping your hips to steady herself as you use her like a toy.
The combination is overwhelming: Kazuha's incredible throat clenching around you, Asa's mouth and hands working your sensitive nipples, making you grow louder, hips stuttering as the edge approaches, the tension is coiling tight in your abdomen.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum," you announce, not slowing down even as the words leave your mouth. "Gonna fill that pretty throat up."
Kazuha's face is beet red now, veins standing out on her neck from the strain, but her eyes lock onto yours with pure submission, urging you on without words. Asa switches to your other nipple, sucking greedily, her fingers digging into your chest as she whispers hotly against your skin.
"Do it. Cum down her throat. Make her swallow every drop like the good whore she is."
You're almost there, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, your thrusts becoming erratic but no less forceful. You don't stop (can't stop) pounding into Kazuha's mouth with everything you have, her throat convulsing around you in perfect, rhythmic squeezes that push you over the brink. Finally, with a guttural groan, you cum, erupting deep in her throat, hot spurts flooding her directly as you hold her head down firmly, nose pressed against your pelvis, ensuring she takes it all.
She swallows desperately, her throat working visibly under your gaze, muscles contracting again and again to gulp down your load, no choice but to accept every thick rope you pump into her. You and Asa watch it happen: her neck bobbing with each swallow, a faint bulge moving as she forces it all down, her face somehow flushing even redder, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Drool and cum bubble at the corners of her mouth, but you keep her pinned, emptying yourself completely until there's nothing left, your cock twitching in the tight confines of her throat.
Only when you're spent do you release your grip, pulling out slowly, a trail of saliva and cum connecting her lips to your tip. Kazuha gasps for air, coughing lightly, her chest heaving as she wipes at her mouth, but there's a satisfied, hazy smile on her ruined face.
Asa mumbles from beside you, her expression is something between envy and arousal.
"Damn, I wanted some too," she says, pouting playfully before leaning in toward Kazuha. Without hesitation, she captures her friend’s mouth in a deep kiss, sucking on her tongue greedily, tasting the remnants of your cum mixed with saliva. Their lips move together sloppily, tongues tangling in a messy exchange, soft moans escape as Asa chases every last trace of you from Kazuha's mouth.
Your hand wraps around your spent cock, still slick from their throats and your cum, and you start stroking slowly, lazily, as you watch Asa devour Kazuha's mouth. She's aggressive about it, her tongue plunging deep, sucking on Kazuha's like she's trying to extract every last trace of your seed from her friend's depths.
Their lips smack wetly, messy and unapologetic, saliva mixing with the remnants of your load as they explore each other in the dirtiest way possible; tongues twisting, probing, no boundaries left between them. Asa's hands roam freely over Kazuha's body, sliding up her sides to cup her breasts through the silver lingerie, thumbs circling her hardening nipples until Kazuha arches into the touch with a needy whimper.
Kazuha returns the favor, her fingers dipping between Asa's thighs, rubbing slow circles over the damp lace of her panties, making Asa buck slightly and moan into the kiss like a whore in heat.
"Fuck, that feels good," Kazuha gasps when they break for air, her head falling back as Asa's mouth trails down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin while her hand slips inside Kazuha's bra to pinch a nipple hard. "You're such a tease, making me wet like this."
Asa chuckles against her skin, grinding her hips against Kazuha's exploring fingers. "You love it, you little slut. Moan for me. Let him hear how much you want it." Their bodies press closer, hands everywhere now, Asa gripping Kazuha's ass and squeezing, Kazuha sliding her palm flat against Asa's stomach before dipping lower to finger her through the fabric, both of them panting and whining like they're putting on a show just for you.
You pump your fist faster, feeling yourself harden again under your own touch, the sight of them too intoxicating to ignore. Your cock twitches back to life, thickening in your grip as you stroke from base to tip, imagining burying yourself in that tangled mess of limbs and lust.
Asa finally pulls away from Kazuha's mouth with a final, deep suck on her tongue, both of them gasping, lips swollen and glistening. She turns her head toward you, eyes lighting up when she sees your hand working your shaft, already rigid and ready again. A satisfied grin spreads across her face.
"Look at that," she purrs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hard again already? Good boy. Watching us got you all worked up, huh?"
Kazuha glances over too, her cheeks still flushed from the throat-fucking, and she bites her lip at the sight. "Fuck, he's huge even when he's stroking himself. Makes me want more."
Asa stands up slowly, her body on full display as she hooks her thumbs into the straps of her black lace bra, sliding them down her arms with deliberate slowness. The fabric peels away, revealing her small perky breasts, nipples already hard, her skin smooth and flushed from the earlier exertion. She doesn't stop there; her fingers trail down to her panties, pushing them over her hips and letting them drop to the floor, stepping out of them gracefully.
Completely naked now, she stands in front of you, confident, her smooth, shaved pussy already glistening with arousal, lips puffy and inviting. She turns slightly, giving you a full view of her tight ass and the curves that make her look like sin personified.
"Like what you see?" Asa teases, running her hands over her own body, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples before sliding one hand down to part her folds briefly, showing you how wet she is. "All this for you."
Kazuha, still kneeling on the floor, reaches out and delivers a sharp slap to Asa's ass, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. The flesh jiggles slightly, a red handprint blooming on her pale skin, and Asa yelps in surprise before dissolving into giggles. "You're so hot," Kazuha says, eyes fixed on the spot she just marked. "That ass is fucking perfect - tight and ready to be wrecked."
Still on her knees, Kazuha leans forward, pressing her lips to the reddened skin of Asa's ass in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, her tongue darting out to trace the curve before nipping gently with her teeth. Asa moans softly, pushing back into the touch, her body arching as Kazuha worships her from below.
Asa giggles again, the sound light and naughty, twisting her head to look down at her friend. "Aw, you really know how to make a girl feel special," she says playfully, wiggling her ass against Kazuha's face. "But if you keep kissing it like that, I might just sit on your face instead of his cock. Though... why choose? We can do both later."
Kazuha pulls back with a smirk, giving Asa's ass one more squeeze. "Tempting, but he's waiting. Go ride him! Make him forget his own name."
Asa doesn't need more encouragement. She saunters over to you on the couch, her naked body moving with hypnotic grace, and climbs onto your lap without hesitation, straddling your thighs. Her heat radiates against you, her pink pussy brushing your skin as she positions herself, one hand reaching down to grip your hard cock, still slick from your stroking and their earlier attention. She strokes you a few times, teasing the head against her wet folds, coating you in her arousal before lining you up at her entrance.
"Fuck, I've been wanting this," Asa murmurs, her eyes locked on yours as she starts to lower herself slowly. The tip breaches her, and she's incredibly tight - her walls gripping you like a vice, stretching around your thickness with delicious resistance. Inch by inch, she sinks down, her smooth, shaved pussy swallowing you up, the lack of hair making every sensation more intense, every fold and ripple of her inner walls pressing against you vividly. You can feel her pulsing around you, hot and soaked, her body adjusting to your size with tiny gasps escaping her lips.
You moan at the feeling, your hands instinctively grabbing her hips, but a fleeting thought cuts through the haze. "Wait- condoms," you manage to groan, even as she keeps descending, her tightness making it hard to think straight. "We should... fuck, we need one."
Asa pauses halfway down, her pussy clenching around you teasingly, but she doesn't stop. She shakes her head, leaning in closer, her small breasts pressing against your chest. "I don't like them," she whispers, her breath hot against your neck. "Feels better raw. I want to feel every inch of you, no barriers. Besides, Mina said total freedom… I'm on the pill, you're safe. Just fuck me like this."
Before you can protest further, she sinks the rest of the way down, taking your entire dick inside her in one smooth motion, her ass settling against your thighs as she bottoms out. The sensation is overwhelming: her tight heat enveloping you completely, walls fluttering around your full length, so snug it's like she was made for you. She rolls her hips experimentally, grinding down to feel you deep inside, and you both moan at the friction.
"God, yes," Asa breathes, her hands on your shoulders for leverage as she starts to move. She leans in and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss, lips crashing against yours, tongue invading with the same aggression she used on Kazuha. It's messy, passionate, her taste still lingering with hints of your cum and Kazuha's essence. She breaks the kiss to trail her mouth to your ear, nipping at the lobe before biting down gently, just enough to sting.
Her hips pick up pace, riding you slowly but deeply, each downward thrust burying you to the hilt in her perfect pussy. She whispers right against your ear: "Your cock is so thick and big," she murmurs. "Stretching me out just right. Perfect; fucking perfect for ruining my tight little hole."
You groan in response, your hands sliding up to grip her ass, helping guide her movements as she bounces on you, her tightness milking every inch. Kazuha watches from the floor, her hand slipping between her own thighs, rubbing herself as she enjoys the show, moaning softly. "Ride him harder," she encourages. "Make that pussy take all of him."
Asa obliges, picking up speed, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her moans growing louder as she chases her pleasure on your cock. You thrust up to meet her, driving deeper, losing yourself in the raw, condom-free heat of her body, the risk only heightening the thrill.
Asa grips your shoulders for balance, nails grazing your skin, her back arching just enough to push her chest out, breasts brushing against you with each teasing grind of her tight, wet pussy around your cock. She sinks down to swallow you whole, every inch of your cock stretching her raw heat, then rises achingly slow, letting you drag against every ripple of her snug walls. It’s torture; pure, exquisite torture. Each time she pulls off of you halfway, your tip throbbing and desperate, she sinks back down again with a soft groan, her pussy sucking you deeper, wetter, clutching you like she never wants to let you leave her.
"You like that?" Asa teases, her breath ragged but her smile playful, devilish. "Being edged like this, feeling me milk your cock and take my time? Hm? I bet if I keep doing this you'll cum pretty quickly, won't you?" She confidently challenges you, her hips circling in lazy figure-eights as her slickness coats you, dripping down onto the tops of your thighs, the sound of it adding with her moans and the obscene slaps of her ass kissing your lap each time she sinks back onto you.
Your grip tightens on her hips, your teeth gritted against the need to pound into her. "Fuck, Asa… stop teasing," you growl, thrusting your hips up sharply once in protest, making her squeak and laugh before she steadies herself.
Kazuha shifts beside you then, the silvery lingerie now undone and her panties sliding off in one smooth motion. She sits down flush against your side on the couch, her thigh pressing against yours, and then she leans back into the cushions. Her legs unfold slowly like opening petals, spreading wide until her trimmed, delicate pussy is exposed under the dim lighting, glistening from arousal. She rests one foot up against the couch cushions, the other on the floor, putting herself fully on display, leaving nothing hidden.
"You’re so lucky," she breathes, her hand sliding down, two fingers slipping between her folds to part them for you. "Watching her ride you like that… soaking up that huge cock… it’s enough to make me soak the couch." She gently runs her fingers over her clit, circling slowly as her chest rises and falls in quick bursts. Her dark eyes stay locked on yours, her mouth parting in tiny gasps as she touches herself openly, shamelessly, giving you the kind of view no man in the world should ever be allowed to see.
Asa laughs breathlessly at her friend’s comment, her hair falling in messy strands around her face as she continues grinding on your cock. "He is lucky," she pants, lowering herself deeper, biting her lip as her inner walls flutter tight around you. "He’s so… fucking thick. I feel every beat of him inside me." She leans forward suddenly, kissing you hard, her tongue slipping past your lips. She breaks the kiss only to bite your bottom lip playfully before whispering against it, "And this cock… it’s mine right now."
Your eyes flick from Asa bouncing slowly in your lap to Kazuha sprawled next to you, her legs wide, her fingers plunging inside herself now, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the space as she moans openly. She watches you and Asa like it’s her own private fantasy, her thumb flicking over her clit as her fingers curl inside her, head tilting back slightly as she shudders with every movement.
"Shit, the way you stretch her," Kazuha whimpers, her other hand coming up to squeeze one of her own breasts, kneading it roughly as her hips buck against her fingers. "Just imagine when it’s me. When that cock is buried in me raw, splitting me open… I’ll cum just from the first thrust. I know I will."
Asa moans louder at Kazuha’s words, tightening herself around you intentionally, grinding down harder as if to emphasize the fantasy. "Don’t tell him that," she purrs, eyes half-lidded as she rides you in deep, measured strokes. "He’ll lose his mind. He already can’t control himself. Look at him: holding in everything while my pussy strangles his cock."
You groan, hips lifting to meet her movements, driving into her with more force, feeling her tighten in shock before quickly adapting, her moans turning shameless, high-pitched as she lets you take a little control back.
"Christ, Asa, you don’t even know," you grit out, sweat forming at your temples as your cock slides snugly inside her, stretching her with each plunge. "You’re gonna make me lose it if you keep clenching like that."
"I want you on edge," Asa pants, bouncing slightly faster now, subtle slaps of her ass cheeks against your thighs echoing louder in the room. "I want you desperate, hungry, ruined."
Beside you, Kazuha’s pace quickens, her fingers diving in and out of her slick pussy faster, thumb rubbing circles at her swollen clit as wetness coats her hand. She spreads her lips wide with her other hand, showing you everything; the pink, needy insides stretching around her fingers, glistening in the dim light. "Do you see me?" she asks between gasps. "Do you see how wet I am watching you? I’m dripping for that cock, too. Oh, god..." Her moan breaks high-pitched as her body shivers, rolling her hips down against her own hand.
Your head spins with overstimulation. Asa’s tight pussy squeezing you like a vice as she rides slow and deep, Kazuha fingering herself beside you, her lewd display too much and yet not enough. You can smell the sex in the air, taste it on your tongue each time Asa leans in to kiss you again, the room soaked in the sound of wet flesh, ragged panting, moans spilling freely.
Asa bites your ear again, her breath hot, her pussy fluttering around you. "Say it," she whispers, hips grinding down to crush against yours. "Say how much you love watching us like this. Say how much you need us."
"You’re driving me insane. Both of you - so perfect, so fucking filthy."
Beside you, Kazuha has two of her fingers plunging in and out of her soaked pussy as she watches Asa bounce on you. Her other hand toys with her breast, pinching and tugging needily as she pants. "Fuck, you two look so hot together," she moans, biting her lip. "Watching his thick cock fuck you, hearing you moan... fuck!” Her fingers pick up speed, her hips rolling up into her hand as she drowns in the sight of Asa being filled.
You grab Kazuha suddenly, pulling her by the neck and crashing your lips onto hers. She gasps into your mouth, her body arching as your tongue pushes past her lips, exploring her greedily. She moans with you, her hand never stopping between her legs, the squelch of her fingers working her soaked slit loud in your ears as your kiss deepens. Asa watches, tilting her head back with a cry as she rides harder, the sight of you making out with Kazuha while she slides up and down your cock electrifying her.
"Oh my god, he’s so thick," Asa moans breathlessly, bouncing harder now, her breasts jiggling with each slam of her hips down onto you. Her pussy spasms wildly around your cock, clenching as though it’s trying to milk you already. "He’s stretching me so good, it’s gonna make me cum… it’s gonna make me cum so fast..."
Your head falls back against the couch, your hands flying to grab her ass, squeezing the soft flesh as you stare up at her ruined, desperate face. "Do you want me to make you cum, Asa?" you grunt lowly, guiding her down harder onto you, enjoying the slutty moans spilling out of her with each bounce.
Her body shudders, her movements faltering as her expression shifts, lips curling, pouting with obscene, filthy need. Her eyes glaze over, her tongue peeks out against her swollen bottom lip, and she nods with a desperate whimper. "Yes... yes, daddy," she moans, rolling her hips in fuck-drunk circles. "Please, daddy, I want you to make me cum… I need it."
You are amazed at how light it is.
That single plea wrecks the last bit of restraint you had. You reach up under her ass, gripping her tiny waist in both hands (you are amazed at how light she is, like lifting a doll) and you lift her with ease. She gasps in surprise as her body leaves your lap, her tight pussy still wrapped around your cock as you reposition her.
You flip her onto her back on the couch in one quick motion, spreading her flat against the cushions with her legs up in the air, splayed wide just for you.
As you loom over her, standing at the edge of the couch, you grab her thighs and spread them wider, bending her soft, toned legs back until her knees nearly touch her shoulders. Her pussy opens up perfectly, wet and swollen around your thickness, your cock sinking into her raw, tight warmth like it was made for you.
Her scream tears through the room the second you start fucking her in earnest. You pound into her with relentless force, every thrust slamming your cock deep into her womb, her tiny body rocking with the impact. She’s moaning helplessly, writhing under you, her hips bucking upward to meet every thrust, desperate to take as much of you as possible.
Kazuha has one hand holding her own soaked pussy open with her fingers still working furiously, the other reaching out to rub Asa’s clit, mercilessly circling it as she encourages both of you. "Yes, daddy," she moans. "Fuck her harder, she’s your little whore. Pound her tight cunt until she screams."
Asa whines, grabbing the cushions helplessly as you rail her, drool sliding down the side of her cheek, her tits bouncing violently with each impact. "I-I can’t—" her words break, her head tossing. "I can’t take it! Daddy, it’s too thick- Oh fuck, it’s splitting me open!"
"You begged for this," you snarl in response, slamming into her harder, your hips pistoning as the wet, loud clap of your bodies fills the room. "Now take it. Take every inch, Asa."
Kazuha’s fingers blur at her clit as she moans loudly, watching her friend get destroyed. "Fill her up!" she gasps desperately. "She’s your cumdump, daddy - paint her womb white, she’s begging for it."
Asa’s eyes gloss with tears, her face twisted beautifully in raw, slutty pleasure. "Yes! Yes, fuck me harder! Please cum inside me!" Her body shakes violently as your cock pummels her g-spot, the pressure overwhelming her. "Feed me your cum, daddy, please, I want your seed inside me! Fill up my pussy, I need it!"
You’re right at the edge now, hips thrusting harder, faster, the slap of skin deafening as you lose control. "I’m close," you grunt through clenched teeth, sweat dripping from your forehead as your cock throbs deep inside her soaked cunt.
"Me too!" Asa screams, her nails clawing helplessly at your arms as her body bucks wildly against you, her pussy convulsing uncontrollably. "Give it to me, cum inside, YES! Cum with me, daddy - please, please cum in my womb!"
"Do it!" Kazuha cries out, fingering herself ruthlessly now, on the verge of her climax, eyes trained on Asa’s ruined pussy taking every brutal thrust of your cock. "Pump your load in her, make her overflow. She needs it, she’s your little cumslut, daddy!"
That’s all it takes. With one final, deep thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in Asa’s convulsing pussy and the orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave. You groan wildly, gripping her thighs tight to keep her pinned as your cock erupts inside her, blasting hot, thick ropes of cum straight into her womb. Shot after shot pours into her, your balls tightening with every spasm, your shaft pulsing violently as you flood her completely.
Asa screams out, her body arching violently off the couch as her orgasm tears through her, her pussy clamping down like a vice, milking your cock for every drop you have to give. Her legs tremble uncontrollably against your hands, her stomach spasming as she cums hard, juices squirting messily around your cock as you stuff her full of your seed.
Kazuha comes at the same time, moaning through gritted teeth as her whole body seizes, her hips jerking against her own fingers. She watches intently, her climax fueled by the sight of your cock shooting thick into Asa. "Fuck! Watching you breed her... oh god, I’m cumming-ahhh!" She screams your name, fingers buried deep, soaking her thighs as she squirts too.
You don’t stop. Even as you cum, you keep thrusting into Asa’s spasming pussy, pounding her through her orgasm, forcing your cum deeper until it starts to spill back out around your shaft, dripping down to the couch beneath her ass. She squirms, shaking uncontrollably, babbling filth through her pleasure. "So much cum… so hot, you’re filling me- Oh god, daddy, I love it, you’re breeding me, it feels so good!!!"
Finally, when your orgasm drains, you pull out slowly, your cock glistening, coated in her juices and your seed. Asa collapses back, panting, her thighs shaking, her body covered in sweat and drool and lust. Her pussy gapes open, your thick cum already leaking out in messy streams down her folds, dripping onto the couch.
"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, chest heaving as you stare at the mess you’ve made.
Asa stares down between her trembling legs. "Look… I can feel it dripping." She spreads her pussy wider with shaky fingers, showing you the thick white cream spilling out, her own juices mixed in.
Before you can respond, Kazuha is already dropping to her knees on the floor beside the couch, her long hair falling forward as she leans in. Without hesitation, she presses her mouth to Asa’s swollen slit, licking hungrily, her tongue scooping up the drooling cum as if it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever tasted. Asa moans long and loud, shaking as her friend devours the hot load dripping out of her wrecked pussy, begging softly. "Fuck yes, Zuha, clean me up… eat daddy’s cum out of me..."
You lean back against the sofa, still panting, your cock twitching as you watch Kazuha’s tongue work. She parts Asa’s folds with her fingers and slurps loudly at the cum-filled pussy, groaning as she tastes you raw. Your seed drips down her chin as she laps harder, desperate to swallow every drop.
Asa giggles weakly through her exhaustion, watching her friend lap her clean. "Good girl…" she moans, stroking her hair. "Don’t waste a single drop. Daddy worked so hard to fill me up."
"You two are fucking insane," you mutter, half-laughing yourself, eyes glued to Kazuha's tongue as it works meticulously, lapping up every thick glob of your seed that's leaking from Asa's stretched pussy. She swirls it around her folds, sucking gently on her clit to draw out more, her cheeks hollowing as she collects it all in her mouth, not spilling a single bit.
"Delicious," Kazuha purrs, licking her lips clean as she climbs up Asa's body, straddling her lap with her knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side. "Tastes like pure sex; your cum mixed with her pussy... fuck, it's addicting." Asa grins up at her, still catching her breath, and reaches up to pull her down.
"Gimme a taste," Asa demands, and Kazuha obliges, leaning in for a deep, sloppy kiss. Their tongues tangle immediately, swirling together in a messy exchange, moans muffled between them as they share the remnants of your load, lips smacking wetly, saliva and cum swapping back and forth in the dirtiest way possible.
Kazuha finally pulls back, sitting fully on Asa's lap now, their naked bodies pressed together, skin flushed and glistening.
"That was a hell of a way for us to get to know each other," she says with a smile, grinding her hips down lightly against Asa, who squirms and laughs softly. Asa nods, wrapping her arms around Kazuha's waist, her eyes flicking to you.
"Yeah, and I hope daddy isn't so shy now," she teases, biting her lip as she watches you. "You've got two eager sluts here ready to please you all week. Don't hold back anymore."
You lean back a smirk tugging at your lips as the post-orgasm haze settles. "After this? I think I can get pretty used to you both," you admit, your gaze roaming over their tangled, satisfied bodies. "Hell, I might not let you leave."
The three of you eventually untangle and head to the bathroom. The shower runs hot, steam filling the space as you step under the spray with them, their naked bodies pressing close, water cascading over their curves. Asa soaps up first, rubbing suds over her breasts playfully, while Kazuha presses against your back, her hands sliding down to stroke your cock, which hardens almost immediately at their touch and, inevitably, the bath ends in a second round of sex.
After drying off, they slip into fluffy robes from the bathroom closet, tying them loosely so hints of their bodies peek through, and slump onto the kitchen stools, complaining about how starving they are.
"I'm dying here," Asa whines, resting her head on the counter. "All that fucking worked up an appetite. Feed us, daddy!"
Kazuha nods. "Yeah, something quick and yummy. We've earned it."
You rummage through the kitchen, whipping up a simple late-night meal; stir-fried veggies with rice and some grilled chicken you bought, seasoning it generously. They dig in immediately, moaning around mouthfuls.
"Mmm, this is amazing," Asa says between bites. "Mina's so lucky to have you. Cooking like this after railing us? Husband material."
You chuckle, sitting with them. "Nah, I'm the lucky one to have her."
Kazuha swallows a bite. "Do you miss her? Mina, I mean."
You nod without hesitation, poking at your food. "Yeah, I do. A lot."
Asa reaches over, squeezing your hand. "She'll be here soon. Promise. Just a few days."
Kazuha smirks, leaning in. "And when she is, you and her can fuck us both really good. Tag team us until we can't walk."
You laugh, but there's heat in your cheeks as you confess: "Honestly? I'm looking forward to it. Sounds like the perfect end to the week."
Dinner winds down, exhaustion finally creeping in after the wild evening. You lead them down the hall, showing off the guest rooms with fresh sheets and all the basics.
"Here, pick whichever you want," you say, but Asa shakes her head immediately, crossing her arms with a pout. "No way. I want to sleep with daddy tonight." Before you can argue, Kazuha darts past you into your bedroom, jumping onto the king-sized bed with a gleeful bounce, the mattress creaking under her.
"Looks like you'll have to share with us," she declares, patting the space beside her.
Asa grins and launches herself at your back, wrapping her arms around your neck and legs around your waist like a koala, her robe slipping open slightly.
"Better not snore, or we'll kick you out," she teases, nuzzling into your neck. You try to protest, but their laughter and insistence make it clear: you're not changing their minds.
Resigned, you carry Asa to the bed, dumping her gently onto the pillows as Kazuha pulls back the covers.
The three of you slide under the sheets, the bed plenty big but feeling intimate with them pressing close. Asa curls up immediately, resting her head on your chest.
"Cuddle me," she murmurs sleepily, and you oblige, running your fingers through her strands, stroking gently as she sighs contentedly. Kazuha snuggles in on your other side, her body warm against yours, one leg draping over yours as she nestles her face into your shoulder.
"Just relax," she whispers, her breath soft.
"We've got you." They both smell incredible; like fresh soap and a hint of their natural sweetness, floral and inviting, their bodies so gentle now compared to the wildness earlier.
Asa hums happily, tracing lazy patterns on your chest, while Kazuha's hand finds yours under the covers, intertwining fingers. It's surprisingly tender, this quiet moment, and you realize this week is going to be way better than you ever expected.
—
The next morning, the sun filters through the curtains, soft and gentle, warming the room where the three of you fell asleep tangled together. You wake first, feeling the weight of Asa’s head on your chest and Kazuha’s leg draped across your thigh. For a second, it almost feels domestic… they look so peaceful like this, their steady breathing in sync, their fragrances still clinging to your sheets. You slip out gently to not wake them, padding your way to the kitchen. By the time the bacon sizzles in the pan and coffee steam fills the little rental, the rustle of footsteps behind you announces them wandering in - robes tied loosely, hair a bit messy, masks of sleep still in their eyes.
“You made us breakfast?” Asa asks, rubbing her eyes.
You nod at the sizzling plates. “Yeah. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast. Something simple.”
Kazuha leans against the counter, arms crossed, a soft smile curled onto her lips. “That’s... nice.” She pads closer, balancing herself on her tiptoes to watch the pan.
Asa flops lazily into a chair, robe riding up her legs, and mutters: “I could get used to this. Daddy in the kitchen.”
You smirk, plating the food and sliding them breakfast. Asa devours hers like she hasn’t eaten in days, Kazuha chewing slower but humming happily at every bite. For once, there’s actual conversation; light, easy chatter about nothing.
Afterward, you suggest taking a walk, stretching your legs, showing them around the neighborhood. They brighten immediately. They trade the robes for casual clothes, pulling caps low and masks back on, sunglasses covering enough of their faces to blend in. Out there, under the cloudy Tokyo morning, they cling to your sides like shadows. Asa tugs your arm when she spots a shop, Kazuha stops to point out flowers, little things neither of them normally gets to do without cameras following.
You buy them silly shit they ask for. Stuffed animals. A handful of snacks at a convenience store. A cute headband Asa insists you must see her in, even though Kazuha teases her endlessly about how childish she looks.
"Shut up," Asa gripes, hugging her plushie close as if it’s the best thing she owns. "It’s cute, and he thinks so!" She looks at you for confirmation until you nod, making her beam smugly.
Lunch happens at a tucked-away ramen place, quiet and discreet, where you laugh too loud with them, share bites across the table, wipe stray broth from Asa’s chin while she blushes only to cover it with a giggle. Kazuha is calmer, steady, but you notice even she leans a little closer to you in public than she has before, her hand brushing yours like she doesn’t care for once who might see. For a fleeting moment, it hits you: you needed this. But so did they. Not fame, not schedules, not performance. Just being normal.
Back home in the late afternoon, shopping bags litter the floor like trophies, and the three of you collapse onto the couch. Drinks appear again: beer cans and a bottle of whiskey. The alcohol loosens them even more, their bodies draped against you on either side, kissing your neck, whispering teases, hands already wandering under your shirt. Their laughter bubbles every time someone tips clumsily into a clumsy kiss, their giggles melting into moans as fingers graze skin too tightly.
By nightfall you’re buzzed, warm, draped between them as they exchange looks over your chest. They whisper to each other, giggling like conspirators. Before you can question, they get up, tugging your hands until you follow them into the bedroom.
“Close your eyes,” Asa orders, shoving you playfully onto the bed.
“What is this?” you mutter, amused, but you comply, sinking back against the pillows. Their footsteps shuffle, little giggles, the rustle of bags and fabric.
Time stretches until they finally tell you. “Okay. Open,” they say together.
You do - and take a sharp inhale.
They’re standing at the foot of the bed in new lingerie, pure sin transformed from lace and elastic. Asa wears crimson straps crisscrossing her petite frame, sheer panels that leave nothing to the imagination, her nipples pressing through the fabric, and garter clips left undone but swaying against her thighs. There’s a boldness in her smirk, her playful mischief amplified by how utterly indecent the lingerie is. Her hand twists a bottle of lubricant casually, shiny under the lamp.
Next to her, Kazuha is a contrast: fragile elegance turned obscene. Sheer white lace, almost translucent around her breasts, and a thong that sits scandalously high on her hips to show off the sculpture of her body. She looks like she came out of a bridal fantasy, but the way she bites her finger and arches one leg to make the lace shift is anything but innocent.
“Well?” Asa grins, cocking her head, tilting the bottle of lube between her fingers. “Surprised?”
Kazuha steps forward slowly, her gaze pinned on you. “We wanted to end today perfectly. You spoiled us all day, now… let us spoil you.”
Asa licks her lips theatrically, walking closer to the bed, twisting the cap off the lube. “Daddy,” she whispers with a mock pout, “you didn’t think you’d just get to play tourist today and relax, right?”
Kazuha slides onto the mattress beside you, pressing close, her lingerie brushing against your bare arm. She leans into your ear, her breath hot. “Close your eyes again if you want. Or watch us. Either way, tonight… we’re making sure you can’t forget how badly we want you.”
“Jesus Christ,” you breathe. “Where the hell did you buy those outfits? You trying to give me a heart attack?”
Asa laughs, a throaty, delighted sound. She twirls the bottle of lubricant between her fingers, her crimson thong doing little to hide the curve of her ass as she turns slightly. “Amazon, of course,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Where else does a girl get next-day delivery on slutty essentials? We had to be prepared for daddy, didn’t we?”
Kazuha steps closer, her movements graceful and deliberate. She kneels on the edge of the bed, the sheer lace of her bra doing little to conceal her hardening nipples. “We also did some research,” she says. “Mina told us a few things… little secrets.”
“Secrets? What kind of secrets?”
Asa’s grin widens, her eyes glittering with pure mischief. “She told us you have a little fantasy. Something you wanted to try with her, but the timing was never right… something about wanting to feel how tight she could be in a place she’s never been fucked before.”
As if on cue, Kazuha turns around on the bed, presenting her ass to you. She gets onto her hands and knees, arching her back perfectly, the sheer white thong cutting deep into the valley of her cheeks, framing her perfect, round ass like a masterpiece. It’s flawless - smooth, pale skin, with a gentle curve that begs to be grabbed, squeezed, and marked.
Asa lets out a wolf whistle, crawling onto the bed behind her friend. “Look at that, daddy. Isn’t it perfect?” She delivers a sharp, stinging slap to Kazuha’s left cheek, the sound cracking loudly in the room. A bright red handprint blooms instantly on the pale skin, and Kazuha lets out a surprised yelp, her hips bucking slightly. Asa laughs, grabbing both of Kazuha’s ass cheeks and jiggling them vigorously, making them wobble and ripple. “This little whore right here,” Asa says with playful cruelty, “she really wants to do anal. She’s been talking about it all day when you weren't around, wondering what your big cock would feel like stretching her tight little asshole for the first time.”
Kazuha buries her face in the pillows. “Asa… stop…” But she doesn’t move away, her ass still held high.
“Oh, she’s a virgin back there, by the way,” Asa adds. “Her ass is completely untouched. So you’ll have to be gentle… at first.” She leans in and whispers right next to your ear, breath hot and promising. “Then you can break her in properly. Wreck that tight little hole until she can’t walk straight. It’s what she wants.”
The combination of Kazuha’s perfect, offered ass, the bright red mark from Asa’s slap, and the knowledge that she’s a virgin is too much. Your cock, already hard from their lingerie display, twitches violently, aching with a sudden, desperate need.
You don’t say a word. You simply stand up and start tearing off your clothes, your eyes never leaving Kazuha’s trembling, offered form. Your shirt comes off, then your pants, until you’re completely naked, your cock pointing at them like a weapon. You climb onto the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and crawl towards them.
“Before we do anything,” you say, “that perfect ass needs to be prepared. I want it wet. Soaking.” You look directly at Asa, your gaze hard and commanding. “I want you to eat her ass, Asa. Lick it, suck it, get your tongue deep in that tight little hole until she’s begging me to fuck her. Make her ready for me.”
Asa’s eyes widen with delight. She looks like you’ve just offered her the greatest gift in the world. “With pleasure, daddy,” she purrs, crawling eagerly behind Kazuha, her crimson lingerie contrasting with Kazuha’s white.
Asa positions herself behind Kazuha, grabbing her hips to hold her steady. She pulls Kazuha's panties aside then parts her ass cheeks with both hands, exposing the delicate, pink, puckered rosebud of her virgin asshole. Kazuha shivers violently, a choked sob escaping her lips as she feels the cool air hit her most intimate, untouched flesh. Asa leans in, her hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin before her tongue darts out, tracing a slow, wet line up the crack of Kazuha’s ass.
Kazuha screams into the pillow, her whole body convulsing. “Oh my god… Asa…”
Asa doesn’t stop. She licks with devotion, her tongue working its way down, lavishing attention on the soft skin of Kazuha’s cheeks before finally zeroing in on her target. She presses her lips to Kazuha’s asshole and sucks gently, making Kazuha cry out again, her hips bucking. Then, Asa’s tongue pushes forward, probing the tight, closed-off entrance. She flicks it, circles it, teases it, until Kazuha is a writhing, moaning mess, her pussy, untouched, leaking juices onto the bedsheets.
“That’s it, baby,” Asa murmurs against her skin. “Relax for me. Open up that sweet little hole for my tongue.” She pushes her tongue harder, forcing the tip just inside the tight ring of muscle. Kazuha gasps, her body tensing for a second before a long, shuddering sigh escapes her, her muscles relaxing as a wave of unexpected pleasure washes over her.
Asa takes the opportunity, sinking her tongue deeper, rimming her with a debauched enthusiasm that is both disgusting and incredibly arousing. She groans with pleasure, clearly savoring the taste of her friend.
You watch, completely mesmerized, stroking your throbbing cock as Asa eats Kazuha’s ass with a religious fervor. Asa’s hands aren’t idle either; one hand grips Kazuha’s hip, while the other sneaks around to the front, her fingers finding Kazuha’s wet pussy and slipping inside, fingering her in time with the rhythm of her tongue. Kazuha is lost, her mind shattered by the dual assault, her moans turning into a continuous, high-pitched keen of pleasure. Her pussy floods the bed, her hips grinding back against Asa’s face, begging for more.
“Fuck… Asa, please…” Kazuha whimpers. “It feels… so good… so weird…”
“I know, baby, I know,” Asa coos, pulling back for a second, a string of saliva connecting her lips to Kazuha’s glistening asshole. “You’re so tight, so tasty. Daddy’s gonna love fucking this ass.”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of the most depraved foreplay you’ve ever witnessed, Asa pulls back, leaving Kazuha a trembling, panting wreck. Her asshole is now red, wet, and visibly looser, glistening with saliva. Asa grabs the bottle of lubricant, a wicked grin on her face. She squeezes a generous amount onto her palm, the clear, thick liquid shimmering under the lamp light.
First, she rubs it all over Kazuha’s ass cheeks, coating them in a slick, shiny sheen, making the red handprint from her earlier slap stand out even more. Then, she focuses on the main event, gooping a large dollop of lube directly onto Kazuha’s asshole. Kazuha gasps as the cool liquid hits her, but Asa is already working it in, her fingers circling the entrance before she gently pushes one lubricated finger inside.
Kazuha cries out, her body tensing, but Asa soothes her, whispering dirty encouragements as she slowly works her finger in and out, stretching the tight ring of muscle. She adds a second finger, and Kazuha whimpers, but the pleasure is starting to override the discomfort, her hips starting to rock into the stretch.
Once Kazuha is thoroughly lubed and stretched, Asa turns her attention to you. She crawls over, the lube on her hands making her movements slick and silent, and takes your hard cock in her hand. She pours the lubricant directly onto you, the cool gel a shocking contrast to the heat of your skin, and begins to stroke you, coating you from base to tip in the slippery substance.
“There,” she says as she gives you one last slow, torturous stroke. “All ready for you, daddy. Her virgin ass is lubed up and waiting for you to claim it.”
You don’t need any more encouragement. You move behind Kazuha, who is still on all fours, her ass held high, glistening with spit and lube, her body trembling with fear and desperate anticipation. You grab her hips, positioning yourself, and press the thick, blunt head of your cock against her tight, waiting hole.
The sensation is insane. Even with all the preparation, she’s incredibly tight. Your cock head pushes against the puckered entrance, and she lets out a pained whimper, her body flinching.
“Shhh, baby, relax,” Asa whispers, moving to kneel in front of Kazuha, holding her hands and letting her squeeze. “You can take it. You want this.”
You push forward, slowly but firmly, ignoring Kazuha’s soft pleas. The tip of your cock breaches her, stretching the virgin ring of muscle. It’s a tight, searing heat, a resistance that feels both like a barrier and an invitation. Kazuha screams, a sound of pain and shocking pleasure as you slowly, painstakingly, inch your way inside her. It takes all your control to go slow, to let her body adjust to your thickness, but the feeling of her virgin walls stretching and yielding around you is one of the most intensely erotic things you’ve ever felt.
Finally, with one last, firm push, you’re all the way in, your balls pressing against her slick perineum. You’re buried to the hilt in her ass. You both groan, a symphony of relief and overwhelming sensation. Her insides are so hot, so tight, clinging to your cock like a velvet glove lined with fire. Her round, juicy ass, still held high on all fours, is perfect, the sight of your cock disappearing into her driving you wild.
You stay still for a moment, letting her get used to the feeling of being so completely filled. Then, you begin to move, starting with slow, deep thrusts. Each movement is a revelation, her tight inner walls squeezing and massaging your shaft with an intensity her pussy could never match. Kazuha’s pained whimpers slowly transform into gasps of pleasure, her hips starting to move with you, tentatively at first, then with more confidence.
Asa watches the whole thing with gleaming eyes, a twisted smile on her face. “That’s it, Kazuha,” she encourages. “Take daddy’s big cock. Show him how good his little anal slut can be.” She leans in and kisses you, a quick, hungry peck, her tongue darting into your mouth before she pulls back to watch.
You increase the pace, your thrusts becoming harder, faster. The initial gentleness is gone, replaced by a need to conquer, to own this tight, virgin space. You grab a handful of Kazuha’s long, dark hair, yanking her head back as you pound into her, the sound of your flesh slapping against her slick ass echoing through the room. She screams, loud and unrestrained.
“Oh my god, daddy! It hurts… it hurts so good! Please, don’t stop!”
You don’t. You fuck her mercilessly, your hips a blur of motion, each thrust slamming your cock deep into her guts. You start slapping her ass, your open palm connecting with her cheeks, leaving angry red marks that layer over the first one. She screams with every slap, her body bucking wildly, but she pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts, taking the punishment like a seasoned whore.
Asa is a whirlwind of debauchery, her presence heightening the scene to an almost unbearable level. She crawls around, kissing you deeply one moment, then moving to lick the sweat that’s beading on Kazuha’s back the next, her tongue tracing patterns on her friend’s trembling skin. “Fuck her harder, daddy!” she shrieks with manic glee. “Ruin her! Make her scream your name! She loves it, look at her, she’s so wet for you even though you’re not even touching her pussy!”
It’s true. A glance down shows Kazuha’s pussy is a mess, juices dripping freely onto the bed, her clit swollen and red, her body so overwhelmed by the anal stimulation that she’s on the verge of a hands-free orgasm. The sight pushes you closer to the edge. Your thrusts become frantic, desperate, your balls aching with the need to release.
“I’m going to cum, Kazuha,” you gasp. “I’m going to fill your ass up.”
“Yes!” she screams. “Please, daddy, cum inside me! Fill my ass with your hot cum! Breed my ass!”
That’s all the permission you need. With a final, guttural roar, you drive your cock as deep as it will go and your orgasm rips through you. You erupt inside her, blasting load after load of hot, thick seed into her tight rectum. Your cock pulses violently, flooding her with your essence, the sensation of cumming inside her ass so intense it’s almost painful.
Kazuha transcends. As your hot cum fills her, her body seizes in a violent, shuddering orgasm. She screams your name, her pussy contracting wildly, squirting her own juices onto the bed as she comes harder than she ever has before, all from the raw, brutal fucking of her ass.
You keep thrusting even as you finish, milking every last drop out of yourself, pounding your softening cock into her as she shakes and whimpers, completely broken and remade by the experience. Finally, spent, you collapse on top of her, your bodies slick with sweat, lube, and spit.
After a moment, you pull out slowly, the sound a wet, obscene squelch. You get off the bed and stand in front of her, breathing heavily. “Kazuha,” you say. “Show me. Show me what I did to you.”
Still trembling, she obeys. She reaches back, grabs her own ass cheeks, and pulls them apart, spreading herself wide for you. Then, with a grunt of effort, she flexes her ass muscles, pushing. Your cum, thick and white, begins to ooze out of her red, swollen, stretched-out asshole, dripping down onto the sheets.
Asa is on it in an instant. She kneels down, a look of pure, primal hunger on her face, and latches her mouth onto Kazuha’s asshole, licking up every drop of your cum as it spills out.
Her tongue works with a frantic energy, darting into Kazuha’s stretched, ruined asshole to scoop out every last drop. Kazuha is a trembling, shuddering mess beneath her, her body still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm, whimpering every time Asa’s tongue probes the tender, raw flesh of her freshly-fucked hole. It is undoubtedly an image that will remain etched in your memory forever: one beautiful idol eating another’s ass clean after you bred it, her face buried between cheeks that are still bright red and marked from your hand.
“Mmm, so good,” Asa murmurs. She pulls back for a second, a thick glob of your seed on the tip of her tongue, and she licks her lips, savoring it before diving back in. “Don’t worry, Zuha, I’ll get every last drop. Can’t let any of daddy’s perfect cum go to waste.”
She’s meticulous, a true connoisseur of depravity. She uses her fingers to hold Kazuha’s ass cheeks spread wide, giving her tongue full access, and she slurps loudly, cleaning not just the entrance but the surrounding skin, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in her wake. Kazuha groans witg pain and a new, flickering wave of pleasure. The cool wetness of Asa’s tongue is a strange sort of balm on her burning, swollen asshole, even as the probing motion makes her wince.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of the most obscene cleanup imaginable, Asa finishes. She gives Kazuha’s asshole one last, long, lingering lick, then pulls back, her face a mess. Her lips are swollen, glistening with your cum and Kazuha’s essence, a triumphant, satisfied smirk plastered on her face. She looks up at you, her eyes gleaming, and proudly declares: “All clean, daddy. Not a drop wasted.”
She then crawls up Kazuha’s trembling body, her crimson lingerie stark against her friend’s pale, sweat-slicked skin. Kazuha pushes herself up weakly onto her elbows, her face buried in the pillows, still catching her breath. Asa leans over her, grabs her face, and pulls her into a deep, filthy kiss. Their mouths crash together, and Asa’s tongue, still coated in the taste of your cum, plunges into Kazuha’s mouth. Kazuha moans into the kiss, accepting it without hesitation, her own tongue meeting Asa’s in a sloppy, wet dance. They share the flavor, swapping spit and the lingering taste of you, their moans a testament to their shared satisfaction.
When they finally break apart, a string of saliva connects their lips. Kazuha collapses back onto the bed, her body boneless, completely spent. She tries to shift, to find a more comfortable position, but a sharp, searing pain makes her cry out, her body tensing. She reaches back, her hand hovering over her ass, her face contorting in a pained grimace.
“Fuck,” she whispers. “It burns… it’s burning so much.”
Asa just laughs, a cruel, delighted sound. She crawls over and pokes one of Kazuha’s red, swollen ass cheeks, making her yelp again. “What did you expect, idiot?” she teases, her smile wicked. “Daddy has a huge cock, and he just destroyed your virgin ass. You won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
But despite the pain, a hazy, blissed-out smile spreads across Kazuha’s face. She looks at you, her eyes shining with something between adoration and pure, slutty pride.
“I don’t care,” she says. “It hurts, but… fuck, it was worth it. Thank you, daddy.” She reaches a trembling hand out to you, her fingers brushing against your leg. “Thank you for destroying me. For breaking me in. I loved it.”
You look at them both, your mind reeling. Kazuha, lying there, a beautiful, ruined mess, her ass stretched and marked and filled, so happy in her pain. And Asa, the instigator, the gleeful accomplice, perched beside her friend like a adorable succubus.
Your girls. Fucking perfect.
—
A routine forms, a beautiful, depraved rhythm that takes over the house. The days bleed into one another, marked not by the calendar but by the cycle of fucking, eating, and sleeping, all tangled together in a haze of lust. Mornings start with you waking up sandwiched between them, their naked bodies warm and pliant against yours, their hair smelling of shampoo and sex. You cook breakfast while they lounge in your shirts, their legs bare, covered in the faint, fading marks of the previous night’s activities. They’re no longer shy; they’re possessive, constantly touching you, kissing you, their hands wandering under the table while you eat, a silent competition to see who can make you hard first.
The days are a strange combination of domesticity and debauchery. You’ll be on the couch, watching a movie, and Asa will just crawl into your lap, pull your cock out, and start sucking it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Kazuha will watch, fingering herself openly. You fuck everywhere: on the kitchen counter while dinner is cooking, against the wall in the hallway, in the shower until the water runs cold. The lines blur until there is no separation between normal life and the constant, simmering state of arousal that has become your new reality.
And with each passing day, they become more submissive, more eager to please, more desperate for your approval and your punishment. The playful teasing gives way to a deeper, more serious devotion. They start calling you “Daddy” or “Sir” without prompting, their eyes wide and pleading when they ask for things.
The marks become a part of their daily attire. You brand them with your mouth, leaving dark purple hickeys on their necks, their breasts, the inside of their thighs; little trophies that declare your ownership. You bite them during sex, hard enough to leave teeth marks on their asses and shoulders, and they cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, begging you to do it again, to leave a mark that will last for days.
The slapping escalates. It starts with their asses, which you paddle until they’re bright red and stinging, the sound echoing through the house as they scream and buck. But soon, it’s not enough. During a particularly rough fuck, with Kazuha pinned beneath you, her eyes rolling back in her head, you slap her across the face. Not hard, but enough to shock her, to leave a faint red print on her cheek. Her eyes snap open, wide with a stunned, wild arousal, and a broken, grateful sob escapes her lips. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispers, and from then on, face slapping becomes part of the ritual. You do it to silence them when their moans get too loud, to punish them for some imagined slight, or simply to see that look of beautiful, broken submission on their faces. Asa loves it even more, leaning into the slaps, a crazed, ecstatic smile on her face as you mark her.
You find your belt one afternoon, and their eyes light up with a sick, eager curiosity.
“What are you going to do with that, Daddy?” Asa asks. You don’t answer. You make them kneel side-by-side, their asses presented to you like offerings. You fold the leather belt in half, and the first crack against Kazuha’s ass makes her scream, a sharp, piercing sound that is pure pain. You don’t stop. You whip them both, alternating cheeks, leaving angry red welts that crisscross their perfect skin.
They cry, they beg, they plead, but they don’t move. They take it, their bodies trembling, their pussies flooding with arousal, until you decide they’ve had enough. Afterward, they crawl to you, their faces tear-streaked, and kiss your feet, thanking you for the punishment, for the marks they’ll carry for days.
The choking becomes their favorite. They beg for it, their hands guiding yours to their throats as you fuck them.
“Please, Sir, make me forget how to breathe,” Kazuha will gasp, her eyes wide and trusting as your hand closes around her delicate neck. You squeeze, cutting off her air, and watch as her body goes limp beneath you, her moans turning into muffled, desperate gurgles. You fuck her in that state of blissful hypoxia, her body completely pliant, completely yours, only releasing your grip at the last possible second.
She comes back to life with a shuddering gasp, her orgasm ripping through her as oxygen floods her brain, her eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy. Asa is the same, her body thrashing wildly as you suffocate her, her muffled screams of pleasure the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard.
You cum several times a day, your balls constantly aching, your body a machine designed for their pleasure and their degradation. You cum in their mouths, on their faces, across their tits, and deep inside them, both pussy and ass. They swallow it greedily, lick it off each other’s bodies, and beg for more, their hunger for your seed seemingly insatiable. They are your whores, your pets, your girls, and they have given themselves to you so completely that their idol personas have all but vanished, replaced by these two beautiful, broken creatures who exist only to serve you.
And so the week passes in sweat, sex, and submission.
Until Friday afternoon.
A fragile peace settles over the house. You’re on the couch, watching some mindless TV show, a beer in your hand. Asa is curled up on your lap, her head resting on your chest, wearing nothing but one of your old t-shirts, her legs covered in faint, yellowing bruises from the belt.
Kazuha is lying on the floor, her head resting on your knee, also in one of your shirts, idly tracing the welts on Asa’s thigh, a sleepy, contented look on her face. They are both marked, tired, and completely at ease.
Then, the doorbell rings.
All three of you freeze. Asa lifts her head from your chest, her eyes wide. Kazuha sits up, a flicker of something (maybe apprehension, maybe excitement) in her gaze. They both look at you, then at the door.
You get up slowly. You walk to the door, every step feeling deliberate, heavy. You pull it open, and there she is.
Mina.
She looks like a goddess, an ethereal being from another world. She’s dressed in a simple, elegant black dress, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her makeup flawless. She looks rested, poised, and utterly in control, a shocking contrast to the beautiful, bruised, half-naked mess you left on the couch. A small, overnight bag is at her feet.
She doesn’t say anything at first. Her eyes meet yours for a brief, intense moment. Then, her gaze drifts past you, into the living room, to where Asa and Kazuha are now sitting up, watching her with wide, reverent eyes. They look like two guilty children caught by their mother, but there’s no fear in their expressions, only a raw, eager submission.
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Mina’s perfect lips. She looks at the marks on their skin, the sleepy, fucked-out haze in their eyes, the way they’re dressed in your clothes, and her smile widens. She surveys the scene, the beautiful chaos she orchestrated, and she is pleased.
She finally looks back at you.
“Well,” she says. “It looks like you all had fun while I was away.” She steps inside, closing the door behind her.
You pull her into your arms, pressing your lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss that speaks of days of longing and separation. She melts against you, her body soft and familiar, her perfume a welcome contrast to the heavy musk of sex that has filled the house for days. When you pull back, your hands frame her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones.
"Fuck, I missed you," you breathe against her lips. "Every day. Every single day."
Her eyes soften, genuine warmth replacing the calculating look she'd given the room moments before. "I missed you too," she murmurs, her fingers threading through your hair. "More than you know."
Behind you, Asa and Kazuha have scrambled to their feet, suddenly self-conscious in nothing but your oversized t-shirts. They approach cautiously, like cats unsure of their welcome. Asa speaks first, her usual confidence tempered with an odd shyness.
"Hi, Mina," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Welcome back."
Kazuha nods, her hands fidgeting with the hem of the shirt. "Yeah, welcome back. We... we took good care of him for you."
Mina laughs, a genuine, delighted sound that fills the space. She releases you and moves toward them, pulling each girl into a warm hug. "I can see that," she says, her eyes taking in the fading marks on their necks, the satisfied exhaustion in their postures. "You both look... well-used." The words should sound insulting, but coming from her, they're praise, and both girls beam under her approval.
"Let me cook for all of you," you say, needing to ground yourself in something normal. "Celebrate properly."
The kitchen becomes a warm, bustling space as you prepare a proper meal - nothing fancy, but better than the quick fixes you've been surviving on all week. Mina perches on a stool, elegant even in casual clothes, while Asa and Kazuha hover nearby, stealing glances between her and you like they're trying to figure out the dynamic. The conversation flows easily, surprisingly normal given the circumstances.
"How was the MISAMO tour?" you ask as you stir sauce, genuinely curious. Despite everything that's happened this week, you've still been following her career, proud of her success.
Mina's face lights up. "Exhausting but amazing. The crowds were incredible - bigger than we expected in some cities. Sana got food poisoning in Osaka, which was a disaster, but Momo stepped up and covered her parts perfectly." She pauses, watching you cook with fond eyes. "But I kept thinking about coming back here. About what you were up to with these two troublemakers."
Asa grins, stealing a piece of vegetables from your cutting board. "We kept him very busy. Very relaxed. Right, Daddy?"
The casual use of the name makes Mina's eyebrows raise slightly, an amused smirk playing at her lips. "Daddy, hmm? You really did break them in properly."
Kazuha blushes but doesn't deny it. "He was... thorough. We learned a lot about ourselves this week."
When dinner is ready, you all gather around the small dining table. The conversation flows between light gossip about the industry, stories from the tour, and careful questions about how the week went. You notice how Mina watches the girls, observing their body language, the way they automatically defer to you, how they wince slightly when they sit down.
"And you?" Mina asks, cutting into her food. "Have you been relaxing? You look... different. Less stressed."
You consider the question, looking at Asa and Kazuha, both of whom are watching you with expectant eyes. "Yeah, I have been. More than I expected. They've been... incredible company." You meet each of their gazes in turn. "Perfect, actually."
The compliment makes both girls glow with pride. Asa reaches over to squeeze your hand briefly. "We aim to please."
"And from what I can see," Mina says, "you've been very pleased indeed. I can see the marks from here, girls. He really did a number on you both."
Kazuha touches her neck self-consciously where a particularly dark hickey is still visible. "We asked for it. Begged for it, actually."
"Good," Mina says simply. "That's exactly what I hoped would happen."
As dinner winds down and the dishes are cleared, a different energy begins to build in the room. The casual, domestic atmosphere starts to give way to something more charged, more purposeful. Mina stands, smoothing her dress, and looks at the three of you with that calculating expression returning.
"Well," she says. "I think it's time the real fun finally begins, don't you?" Asa and Kazuha exchange excited glances, their exhaustion from the week suddenly forgotten. You feel your pulse quicken, anticipation and arousal beginning to build again despite having been thoroughly drained by days of constant sex. "Bedroom," Mina says simply. "All of you. Now."
The migration to the bedroom feels like a procession. Mina leads the way, her hips swaying with deliberate sensuality, while you and the girls follow like eager disciples. The bedroom still bears the evidence of your week together - rumpled sheets that have been changed multiple times but still carry the scent of sex, discarded lingerie in various corners, the bottle of lube still sitting openly on the nightstand.
Mina sets her overnight bag on the dresser and turns to face the three of you. Asa and Kazuha sit on the edge of the bed, still in your t-shirts, their legs bare, watching her with rapt attention. You stand beside them.
"I brought something special," Mina says, her fingers working at the zipper of her bag with deliberate slowness. "Something I've been thinking about using on these two beautiful sluts all week while I was performing." She pauses, her hand still in the bag, and looks directly at Asa and Kazuha. "You are my sluts now too, aren't you? Not just his?"
"Yes!" they both respond immediately.
"Good." Mina's smile is cruel as she slowly withdraws her surprise. It's a strap-on harness, black leather with silver buckles, and attached is a substantial dildo - not as large as you, but impressive in its own right, with a slight curve designed for maximum impact. The sight of it in her delicate hands is both shocking and incredibly arousing.
Asa gasps, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh my god, Mina!"
Kazuha's reaction is more subdued but no less intense. She bites her lip, her thighs pressing together as arousal visibly floods through her. "Are you going to... to fuck us with that?"
Mina weighs the strap-on in her hands, testing its heft. "Oh, I'm going to do much more than that," she purrs. "I'm going to show you both what it really means to be owned. By both of us." She looks at you. "We're going to break you completely tonight. Together."
Asa reaches out tentatively to touch the dildo, her fingers tracing its length with obvious fascination. "It's perfect," she whispers.
"It will be," Mina agrees, beginning to unfasten her dress. "By the time we're done with you two, you won't remember your own names. You'll only remember ours, and how good it feels to be our perfect little fucktoys."
As Mina's dress pools at her feet, revealing the elegant black lingerie beneath, you realize this night is going to surpass every fantasy you've ever had. Now the real destruction begins.
steps out of her dress like a goddess ascending from shadow, the black fabric pooling around her feet like spilled ink. The lingerie beneath is stunning: delicate black lace that hugs her familiar curves, a bra that pushes her breasts together in a way that makes your mouth water, matching panties that sit high on her hips. But it's the confidence she radiates that truly takes your breath away. She moves with predatory grace, every step deliberate as she approaches the strap-on harness, her fingers working the buckles with practiced efficiency.
"Strip," she commands without looking at any of you, her attention focused on adjusting the harness around her slim waist. "I want you all naked. Now."
The authority in her voice is absolute, and you find yourself obeying without question, pulling your shirt over your head and stepping out of your pants and underwear. Beside you on the bed, Asa and Kazuha scramble to remove your t-shirts, their movements eager but clumsy in their haste. Soon all three of you are naked, your bodies bearing the evidence of the week's activities; fading marks, lingering bruises, the kind of satisfied exhaustion that comes from constant, thorough use.
Mina turns to face you, now wearing the strap-on, the black dildo jutting from her hips with obscene pride. The contrast is staggering: her ethereal beauty, the elegant set of her shoulders, the graceful line of her neck, all paired with this crude instrument of dominance. She looks like a dark angel, beautiful and terrible in equal measure.
"Look at you three," she purrs, her eyes roaming over your bodies with obvious satisfaction. "My husband, relaxed and satisfied. And these two beautiful whores, marked and claimed." She approaches the bed slowly, the dildo swaying slightly with each step. "But we're not done yet. Not even close."
Asa and Kazuha watch her approach with wide eyes, their bodies trembling with anticipation. The week has changed them, stripped away their inhibitions and left them raw, desperate for more. They reach for each other unconsciously, fingers intertwining as they prepare for whatever Mina has planned.
"Asa," Mina says. "On your back. Legs spread. I want to see what he's done to you this week."
Asa complies immediately, falling back onto the bed and spreading her legs wide. Her pussy is visibly swollen from days of use, her lips puffy and pink, glistening with arousal despite having been thoroughly fucked just hours ago. Mina climbs onto the bed, positioning herself between Asa's thighs, the tip of the strap-on pressing against her entrance.
"And you," Mina looks at Kazuha, then at you. "I want her mouth busy while I fuck this slut. But first..." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, powerful-looking vibrator. "This is for me. I want to cum too."
She positions the vibrator against her clit, trapped between the strap-on and the panties, her breath hitching as she turns it on. The soft buzzing fills the room, mixing with Asa's whimpers as Mina begins to push the dildo into her wet pussy.
"Kazuha," you say, your own arousal building rapidly at the scene unfolding before you. "Come here. I want that mouth."
Kazuha crawls to you eagerly, her movements fluid despite the lingering soreness in her ass. She positions herself on her knees beside the bed, her mouth level with your rapidly hardening cock. Without hesitation, she takes you between her lips, her tongue swirling around the head as she begins to work you back to full hardness.
Mina starts slow with Asa, the dildo sliding in and out of her pussy with deliberate precision. Asa's moans fill the room, her back arching as Mina hits spots that have been neglected during your week of focus on anal play and rough use. The dildo is curved just right, designed to hit her g-spot with every thrust, and Asa is already trembling on the edge of orgasm.
"Fuck, Mina!" Asa gasps, her hands clutching at the sheets. "It feels so good! I forgot... I forgot how amazing it is to be fucked properly in my pussy!"
Mina smiles wickedly, increasing her pace slightly. The vibrator against her clit has her breathing heavily, her movements becoming more aggressive as her own pleasure builds. "That's right, slut. Let me remind you how it feels to be owned by a woman. By someone who knows exactly how to make you scream."
Meanwhile, Kazuha is working your cock with renewed enthusiasm, her mouth sliding up and down your length with practiced skill. She's learned your preferences over the week, knows exactly how much pressure to apply, where to focus her attention. Her tongue works the underside of your shaft while her lips form a tight seal, creating the perfect combination of suction and friction.
You thread your fingers through Kazuha's hair, not to control her movements but simply to feel connected to her as she services you. Her eyes look up at you occasionally, checking your reaction, making sure she's pleasing you the way she's been trained to do all week.
"Good girl," you murmur, and she moans around your cock. "Such a perfect little cocksucker. You've learned so well."
The praise makes her work harder, her head bobbing faster, taking you deeper into her throat. She's mastered the art of suppressing her gag reflex, learned to relax and let you slide all the way down her throat until her nose presses against your pubic bone.
On the bed, Mina has found her rhythm, the strap-on pistoning in and out of Asa's dripping pussy with increasing force. Mina's own breathing is getting ragged, the vibrator doing its work as she approaches her first climax of the evening.
"I'm close," Asa pants, her legs wrapping around Mina's waist, trying to pull her deeper. "Please, Mina, make me cum! I need it so bad!"
Mina responds by angling her hips differently, making sure the curved dildo hits Asa's g-spot with every thrust. "Cum for me then, whore," she says. "Show me how much you love being fucked by your mistress!"
As Asa's orgasm hits her, her body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over her. She screams your wife's name, her pussy clenching around the dildo as she comes harder than she has all week. The sight of her climax pushes Mina over the edge, and she cries out as her own orgasm rips through her, the vibrator buzzing against her clit as she grinds against the base of the strap-on.
The visual of both women coming together is almost too much for you to handle. Your cock twitches in Kazuha's mouth, and you have to gently pull her off to prevent yourself from cumming too early.
"Switch," you say breathlessly. "Kazuha, I want you on the bed. Asa, come here."
The girls comply without question. Kazuha spreads herself on the bed, her pussy already wet from watching the show, while Asa crawls to you, her face still flushed from her recent orgasm.
Mina moves to position herself over Kazuha, the tip of the strap-on pressing against her entrance. "Your turn, beautiful," she purrs. "Let's see if you can handle what your friend just took."
As Mina begins to work the dildo into Kazuha's tight pussy, you guide Asa's mouth to your cock. She's eager, her tongue immediately going to work on your shaft, licking and sucking with the desperation of someone who's been thoroughly broken and remade for your pleasure.
Kazuha's reaction to being fucked by Mina is different from Asa's. Where Asa was loud and dramatic, Kazuha is more controlled, her pleasure manifesting in soft gasps and the way her body undulates beneath Mina's thrusts. Her training as a dancer shows in the way she moves, her hips rolling to meet each thrust, creating a rhythm that's almost hypnotic to watch.
"Such a good girl," Mina murmurs, her own arousal building again as she works the dildo in and out of Kazuha's gripping pussy. "So responsive, so perfect. I can see why he enjoyed you so much this week."
You're torn between watching your wife fuck Kazuha and enjoying the incredible sensations of Asa's mouth on your cock. She's gotten so good at reading your body, knowing when to slow down to prolong your pleasure and when to increase intensity to bring you closer to the edge.
The vibrator is still buzzing against Mina's clit, and you can see she's building toward another orgasm. Her movements are becoming more erratic, more desperate, as she chases her release while simultaneously driving Kazuha toward hers.
"I have an idea," you say. "Something that will show these sluts exactly who owns them now."
Mina raises an eyebrow, looking at you but still fucking Kazuha fiercely. "What did you have in mind, baby?"
You gesture toward the bed. "Both of you, on all fours on the bed. Face each other. I want you close enough to kiss while we fuck you from behind."
Asa's eyes light up immediately. "Yes, daddy! That sounds perfect!" She scrambles onto the bed, positioning herself on her hands and knees, her perfect ass raised high, still bearing the faint marks from your belt earlier in the week.
Mina slowly takes the strap out of Kazuha, who follows eagerly, crawling onto the bed and positioning herself mirror-image to Asa, their faces only inches apart. Her own ass, slightly more marked from the brutal anal session days ago, presents itself beautifully to Mina. Both girls arch their backs perfectly, a pose they've perfected from their dance training, showing off the smooth curves of their spines and the inviting roundness of their asses.
"Beautiful," Mina purrs, climbing onto the bed behind Kazuha. She positions the strap-on at Kazuha's dripping entrance, teasing her with just the tip. "Such perfect positioning. Like they were made to be fucked by us."
You take your position behind Asa, your hands immediately going to her hips, feeling the familiar softness of her skin under your palms. Your cock throbs with need as you press it against her soaked pussy, not entering yet, just letting her feel your heat. "Look at each other," you say. "I want you kissing while we destroy you. Show us how much you love being our sluts."
Without hesitation, Asa and Kazuha lean forward, their lips meeting in a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues dance together, soft moans escaping as they taste each other, their bodies trembling with anticipation of what's to come.
"Now," Mina says, carrying absolute authority. "Let's show these whores what it means to be owned by both mommy and daddy."
With that, you both push forward simultaneously. Your cock slides into Asa's tight, wet heat while Mina drives the strap-on deep into Kazuha's equally desperate pussy. Both girls scream into each other's mouths, the sound muffled but no less intense, their bodies jerking forward from the sudden penetration.
"Fuck!" Asa gasps against Kazuha's lips, her eyes rolling back as you fill her completely. "Daddy's so thick! So fucking big!"
Kazuha moans in response, her body adjusting to Mina's aggressive pace. "Mommy's fucking me so good! The angle... oh god, it's hitting everything!"
You establish a rhythm quickly, your hips snapping forward with controlled force, driving your cock deep into Asa's pussy with each thrust. The week of constant fucking has taught you exactly how she likes it: hard enough to make her gasp, deep enough to hit her cervix, fast enough to keep her constantly on edge.
Beside you, Mina is equally relentless with Kazuha. The strap-on pistons in and out of her pussy with mechanical precision, each thrust accompanied by Mina's soft grunts of effort and pleasure. The vibrator pressed against her clit ensures she's getting as much pleasure as she's giving, her own arousal building with each movement.
"Kiss deeper," you say, your hand coming down hard on Asa's ass with a sharp crack. The sound echoes through the room, followed immediately by her muffled scream of pleasure-pain. "I want to see those tongues working."
The girls comply immediately, their kiss becoming more desperate, more pornographic. Their tongues wrestle and dance, saliva mixing and dripping down their chins as they lose themselves in the sensation of being fucked from behind while tasting each other.
Mina follows your lead, her own hand coming down on Kazuha's ass with a satisfying slap. "That's right, sluts," she pants, her movements becoming more aggressive. "Show us how much you love being used by your owners."
The synchronized fucking continues, both of you finding a complementary rhythm. When you thrust forward into Asa, Mina pulls back from Kazuha, creating a seesaw motion that keeps both girls constantly stimulated, never allowing them a moment's rest.
"Harder, daddy!" Asa begs against Kazuha's mouth, her hips pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Spank me harder! I've been such a bad girl this week!"
You oblige, your hand raining down a series of sharp slaps across both her ass cheeks, turning them a beautiful pink that matches the marks already fading from earlier sessions. Each slap makes her pussy clench around your cock, adding to your pleasure as you continue pounding into her.
"Don't forget about me, mommy," Kazuha whimpers, looking back at Mina with pleading eyes. "My ass needs attention too!"
Mina grins wickedly, her hand coming down repeatedly on Kazuha's upturned ass, leaving bright red handprints on her pale skin. "Such a greedy little whore," she says, punctuating each word with another spank. "Always wanting more pain, more pleasure, more attention!"
You vary your technique, sometimes focusing on deep, slow strokes that make Asa feel every inch of your cock, other times switching to rapid, shallow thrusts that stimulate her most sensitive areas. Your free hand grabs a handful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly, breaking her kiss with Kazuha momentarily.
"Tell me how much you love this," you growl in her ear, your hips never stopping their relentless motion. "Tell me how much you love being daddy's personal fucktoy."
"I love it so much!" Asa screams. "I love being your fucktoy, daddy! I love how you use me, how you hurt me, how you make me feel like nothing but a hole for your pleasure!"
Satisfied with her response, you release her hair, allowing her to return to kissing Kazuha, who has been receiving similar treatment from Mina. Your wife has been whispering filthy encouragements in Kazuha's ear, telling her what a perfect slut she is, how beautifully she takes the strap-on, how much she loves watching her be destroyed.
The pace intensifies as both you and Mina chase your approaching orgasms. Your balls slap against Asa's clit with each thrust, the additional stimulation making her body quake with approaching climax. Her pussy is getting tighter, more desperate, clutching at your cock like she never wants to let you go.
Mina is equally close, the vibrator against her clit and the base of the strap-on creating a perfect storm of friction. Her movements become more erratic, more desperate, as she pounds into Kazuha with increasing fury.
"I'm getting close," you warn. "These sluts are going to get what they've been begging for all week."
"Me too," Mina gasps, her face flushed with exertion and arousal. "I want to cover them in our cum. Mark them as ours completely."
The girls hear your words and their kissing becomes even more frantic, more desperate. They know what's coming, and they want it more than anything. Their bodies are trembling with their own approaching orgasms, held back only by their training to wait for permission.
"Please, daddy, mommy," Asa begs between kisses. "Let us cum with you! We've been such good girls!"
"Such perfect sluts," Kazuha adds. "We deserve to cum while you mark us!"
But you're not ready to give them that satisfaction yet. Instead, you pull out of Asa abruptly, your cock glistening with her juices, throbbing with the need for release. Mina follows suit, the strap-on sliding out of Kazuha with a wet sound that makes both girls whimper at the sudden emptiness.
"On your knees," you command, stepping back from the bed. "On the floor. Now."
The girls scramble to comply, sliding off the bed and dropping to their knees on the hardwood floor. They position themselves side by side, their faces upturned, mouths open, tongues extended like perfect little cum sluts waiting for their reward.
Mina quickly removes the strap-on, and puts her panties aside, her pussy visibly wet and swollen. She positions herself next to you, the vibrator still buzzing against her clit, her other hand between her legs, fingers working her soaked folds.
"Look at them," she pants, her eyes locked on the girls' eager faces. "So perfect, so ready to be marked by their owners."
You stroke your cock frantically, the sight of Asa and Kazuha kneeling before you, desperate for your cum, pushing you rapidly toward the edge. Your balls are tight, your shaft throbbing with each stroke, the week of constant use having built up a massive load that's ready to explode.
"Please, daddy," Asa begs, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. "Cover us in your cum. We need it so bad!"
"Paint us with it," Kazuha adds, her own tongue extended, ready to catch whatever you give her. "Show us how much you love using us!"
The desperate begging pushes you over the edge. With a guttural roar, your orgasm explodes from you, thick ropes of cum shooting across both girls' faces. The first blast catches Asa across the nose and cheek, the second hits Kazuha's forehead and hair. You continue stroking, milking every drop from your aching balls, painting their eager faces with your seed.
"Yes!" Asa screams as your cum hits her, her own orgasm triggered by the feeling of being marked. "Thank you, daddy! Thank you for covering me!"
Simultaneously, Mina cries out in ecstasy beside you. But instead of just cumming, she squirts, her pussy contracting violently as a stream of her juices sprays across both girls' faces, mixing with your thick cum.
"Fuck yes!" Mina screams as she squirts, her body convulsing with the intensity of her climax. "Take it all, you beautiful sluts! Wear our cum like the perfect whores you are!"
Kazuha's own orgasm hits as Mina's juices splash across her face, her body shaking violently as waves of pleasure crash over her The combination of your cum and Mina's squirt coating her skin is enough to send her into orbit, her screams of pleasure filling the room.
Both girls are covered now, their faces glistening with the evidence of your dominance. Your thick, white cum mixes with Mina's clear, sweet-smelling juices, creating patterns across their cheeks, noses, and lips that mark them completely as yours.
They turn to each other immediately, their tongues darting out to clean each other's faces, sharing the mixture of your seed and Mina's juices in deep, messy kisses. They moan as they taste you both, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, lost in the bliss of being so thoroughly used and marked.
"Perfect," you breathe, collapsing back onto the bed as your orgasm subsides, your cock still twitching with aftershocks. "Absolutely fucking perfect."
Mina sinks down beside you, the vibrator finally silent, her body still trembling from the intensity of her squirting orgasm. "Look at them," she says as she watches the girls clean each other. "They're so beautiful like this. Covered in us, marked as ours."
Asa and Kazuha remain on their knees, their faces still glistening despite their cleaning efforts. They look like debauched angels, beautiful and broken and completely, utterly yours.
"Thank you," Kazuha whispers, voice a little hoarse from screaming. "Thank you for using us, for marking us, for making us yours."
Asa nods eagerly, cum still visible in her hair and on her chin. "We're yours forever," she says with genuine devotion. "Daddy's and mommy's perfect little sluts."
As the four of you catch your breath, the reality of what just happened settles over the room. The girls have been completely broken and remade, transformed from independent idols into willing, devoted sluts who exist solely for your pleasure and Mina's dominance. Your wife looks at you and smiles, wiping some sweat from her forehead as she catches her breath, she asks: "Now that’s a warm-up, don’t you think, darling? This weekend’s gonna be really intense."
“Oh, don't even get me started,” you say. “I've been warming up all week for this moment.”
“Oh, really?” Mina raises an eyebrow, amused by your audacity. “Let's see if you live up to your words then.”
—
And just as expected, the weekend unfolds like a perfect dream, the kind of experience that feels too intense and too good to be real. Having Mina back transforms the dynamic completely; where the week had been raw exploration and breaking boundaries, the weekend becomes something more sophisticated, more complete.
Saturday morning starts with all four of you tangled in the king-sized bed, limbs intertwined in ways that would be impossible to untangle without waking someone. Asa is curled against your chest, her hair tickling your chin, while Kazuha has somehow ended up with her leg thrown over Mina's hip. Your wife's arm is draped across your waist, her fingers intertwined with yours even in sleep. It's cramped, almost ridiculously so, but the warmth is incredible.
You wake first, as you have all week, but instead of slipping away to make breakfast, you just lie there, savoring the moment. The soft breathing of the three women around you, the way the morning light filters through the curtains to highlight the peaceful expressions on their faces. For the first time in months, maybe years, you feel completely relaxed.
"Good morning," Mina whispers, her eyes opening to meet yours. She doesn't move, doesn't disturb the girls, just smiles at you with that knowing look that says she's thinking the same thing you are.
"Best morning ever," you whisper back, and she laughs softly.
The girls wake gradually, stretching like cats, their bodies arching in ways that would be pornographic if not for the innocent sleepiness in their expressions. Asa nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your throat, while Kazuha does the same to Mina.
"Don't want to get up," Asa mumbles against your skin. "Too comfortable. Too perfect."
"We have to eventually," Mina says practically, but she's smiling, her fingers still playing with yours. "But not yet. Not for a while yet."
The sex that follows is different from the intense, brutal fucking of the night before. It's slower, more exploratory, filled with soft kisses and gentle touches. You and Mina work together like a team that's been playing together for years, which in a way, you have. She knows exactly how to touch you to drive you wild, and you know all her favorite spots, the places that make her arch and moan.
The girls watch in fascination as you and Mina make out, your mouths moving together with the familiarity of long practice, your hands roaming each other's bodies with confident ownership. There's something powerful about displaying your connection, your marriage, in front of them. It reminds everyone of the hierarchy, but it also shows them what genuine love and lust combined looks like.
"You two are so hot together," Kazuha breathes, her hand between her legs as she watches you kiss your wife deeply. "The way you know exactly what she wants... it's incredible."
Asa nods, equally mesmerized. "It makes us want to be part of it even more. Like we want to learn to fit into what you have instead of being separate from it."
That becomes the theme of the weekend: integration rather than domination. Sensory deprivation becomes a key element in your games too. Blindfolds and ball gags are introduced, leaving them completely at your mercy as you and Mina explore their bodies. You take turns with low-temperature wax, dripping hot patterns onto their backs and asses, their muffled screams turning to moans as the sensation shifts from pain to pleasure. You'll trace the wax patterns with ice cubes, making them gasp and shudder, their senses overwhelmed, their bodies belonging entirely to the whims of their owners.
But for every moment of intense pain or humiliation, there's an equal and opposite moment of profound tenderness. This is where the true integration happens. Saturday night finds both girls bound with silk ties to the headboard while you and Mina take turns with various toys, driving them to the edge of orgasm again and again without letting them cum. Their desperate pleas and the way they strain against their bonds is intoxicating, but what makes it special is the aftercare; the gentle touches, the soft words, the way you and Mina work together to bring them back down from subspace with kisses and compliments and warm washcloths. It's in these moments of care, juxtaposed against the brutality of the play, that they truly break and reform.
"Such good girls," Mina murmurs as she unties Kazuha's wrists, massaging the circulation back into her hands. "You took that so beautifully. We're so proud of you."
"So proud," you echo, doing the same for Asa, who melts into your touch like she's starved for gentleness after the intensity. "You're both perfect."
Sunday morning brings a different kind of adventure. The girls want to go out, to experience Tokyo together like normal people rather than celebrities or sex slaves. They bundle up in masks and sunglasses again, but this time it feels less like hiding and more like playing dress-up. You and Mina each take one of their arms as you stroll through a quiet district, window shopping and ducking into small cafes.
At dinner, in a private booth at an upscale restaurant, the conversation flows as easily as the wine. The girls are relaxed, genuinely happy, their laughter frequent and unguarded. They lean into you and Mina constantly, casual touches that speak of comfort and affection rather than just lust.
"This is surreal," Kazuha says, her head resting on Mina's shoulder as she speaks. "A week ago, we were just... acquaintances, really. Colleagues. And now..."
"Now we're a weird little family," Asa finishes, grinning as she steals a piece of food from your plate. "The most dysfunctional, kinky family ever."
"I like it," Mina says simply, her arm around Kazuha tightening slightly. "I like having you both around. Everything feels more alive with you in it."
"You should just adopt us," Asa says with a laugh, but there's something serious in her eyes. "Keep us as your personal sluts forever. We promise we'll be good."
"Most of the time," Kazuha adds with a grin. "We'll be bratty sometimes because you both love putting us back in our place."
You and Mina exchange glances, and you can see she's thinking the same thing you are.
"We'll see," Mina says diplomatically, but her smile suggests she's not opposed to the idea. "Let's see how we all feel when the real world intrudes again."
That night, the four of you make love with an intensity born of knowing it might be your last night together for a while. There's desperation in the way Asa and Kazuha cling to you and Mina, in the way they kiss you with everything they have. You and your wife work together to give them experiences they'll remember, taking turns fucking them, holding them, making them scream with pleasure until all four of you collapse in an exhausted, satisfied heap.
Monday morning arrives too quickly, bringing with it the harsh reality of schedules and commitments and the outside world. The girls' managers will be expecting them back, your own work is waiting, and Mina has TWICE obligations that can't be ignored forever.
The sadness is palpable as you all move through the motions of packing and preparing to leave. Asa keeps wiping her eyes, trying to hide tears behind her sunglasses. Kazuha is quieter than usual, clinging to Mina's hand like she's afraid to let go.
Finally, standing in the entryway with their bags packed and a car waiting outside, you feel compelled to address what's happening, what all of this has meant.
"I need to say something," you begin, looking at each of them in turn. "This week... this weekend... it's been the best of my life. All of you: Mina, for orchestrating this insane plan and trusting me with it. Asa and Kazuha, for giving yourselves so completely, for being everything I needed and more than I ever imagined." Your voice catches slightly as you continue. "I'm more relaxed than I've been in years. The stress, the burnout, all of it… it's gone. And if I ever went too far, if I ever hurt you in ways you didn't want—"
"Stop," Asa interrupts firmly, stepping forward to cup your face in her hands. "You were perfect. Every single thing you did to us, we wanted. We begged for it. You gave us exactly what we needed too."
Kazuha nods eagerly. "You never crossed a line we didn't want you to cross. You paid attention to us, learned what we liked, what we could handle. That's not something we get often in this industry; someone who actually cares about our pleasure and our limits."
"Besides," Mina adds with a sly smile, "I know you very well. You were exactly the man I married: strong and dominant, but caring and attentive. I'm proud of you."
The girls are tearing up again, but Mina's smile is growing wider. "And you don't need to be sad," she tells them. "This was so much better than I imagined it would be. There will definitely be other opportunities. We're not losing touch. This isn't goodbye."
Asa's face lights up immediately. "Really? You mean it?"
"We mean it," you confirm, pulling both girls into a group hug with Mina. "This isn't a one-time thing. We're... we're a family now, I guess. A very unconventional family."
"You two are the most incredible couple we've ever met," Kazuha says. "The chemistry between you, the way you complement each other, the way you made room for us in it... it's beautiful."
"The trust you have," Asa adds. "The way Mina could give us to you knowing you'd take care of us, the way you could accept her gift knowing she'd be part of it... that's real love. That's the kind of relationship we want someday."
You look at Mina, seeing your own thoughts reflected in her eyes. They're right. What you have together is special, and somehow, instead of threatening it, this week has made it stronger.
"They're right," you tell her, and she nods.
"Completely right," she agrees. "We make a good team."
The goodbye is emotional but not final. There are promises to stay in touch, plans made tentatively for future meetings, exchanges of private contact information. As the car pulls away with Asa and Kazuha inside, both of them pressing their faces to the windows to wave at you and Mina, you feel a complex combination of sadness and satisfaction.
"So," Mina says, taking your hand as you watch the car disappear around a corner. "How do you feel about your stress relief program?"
You laugh, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. "I think it worked better than advertised. Though I have a feeling I'm going to need regular maintenance sessions."
"I think that can be arranged," she says with a smile that promises many more adventures to come. "After all, we wouldn't want you getting stressed again. Now let's finish packing our bags. We have to go too."
As you walk back into the house together, already planning your next encounter with your beautiful, willing sluts, you realize that this week has changed everything. You're not just more relaxed; you're happier, more connected to Mina, more aware of what you want and need. And somehow, impossibly, you've gained two little sluts in the process.
counts: ~3,300 words
tags: age gap, smut, angst
synopsis: You watch your older girlfriend Saerom move through yoga, her body stiff but still intoxicating. One glance turns into relentless passion that carries you from the bedroom to the kitchen and into the shower. Even sore and aching, she can't resist the force of your young energy driving her again.
You sit on the couch, half-distracted with your phone, but your eyes keep drifting back to her. Saerom is on the mat, hair tied back, sports bra barely holding her in, leggings hugging every curve of her thighs and ass. She's stretching into a downward dog, her spine long and stiff, muscles trembling under her own weight.
"Mm," she exhales, holding the pose. "This one always makes my back feel alive."
Your eyes linger where her ass curves up, the leggings riding high. You chuckle. "Makes my dick feel alive too."
She twists her neck just enough to give you a look. "Pervert." Her lips curl into a grin, though. She likes it when you stare. She likes that energy you bring, like you're always ready to pounce on her no matter what she's doing.
She shifts into cobra pose, arching her chest upward, her breasts pushing tight against the thin fabric. Sweat is already glistening along her collarbone. "You're not even trying to hide it, huh?"
"Why would I? You're sexy as fuck like this." You set your phone down, leaning forward. "Almost forty, but still built like a goddess."
She laughs softly through her nose. "Almost forty, my body stiff, hips crack when I move… not exactly a goddess."
"You kidding? Look at you." You stand and walk over, squatting by her side. She stays in position, smirking at your attention. Your hand trails down her side, feeling the sweat on her skin, the tightness of her waist. "Curves like this don't just disappear. They get better."
Saerom holds the pose, her breath hitching when your palm slides lower, over the swell of her hip, the curve of her ass in those leggings. "You're distracting me."
"That's the point." You press closer, your crotch brushing her thigh as you lean over. "You feel how hard I am just watching you?"
Her lips part, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye. "Young boys… always full of energy."
You kiss her shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat. "You love it."
She finally lets her body drop onto the mat, rolling onto her back. Her chest rises and falls, heavy breaths from both yoga and your teasing. "Show me then. Show me this… energy."
You don't need more invitation. You climb over her, pinning her wrists against the mat, your body hovering above hers. She grins wide, teeth showing. "God, you're eager. Always eager."
"Because you drive me crazy," you growl against her lips before kissing her hard. She kisses back with equal hunger, tongue sliding into your mouth, mixing spit. Her hips shift beneath you, already grinding against the bulge in your shorts.
"Take them off," she murmurs, tugging at your waistband with her free hand. "I want to feel you."
You push your shorts down, your cock springing free, thick and already dripping at the tip. Her eyes widen a little, and she lets out a low whistle. "Mm… young cock. Always so ready."
You yank her leggings down, struggling a bit as the sweat makes them stick to her skin. She giggles at your impatience, lifting her hips so you can peel them off. Beneath, her panties are damp, a dark patch showing her arousal. You tug those aside, and her pussy glistens in the light.
"Fuck…" you whisper, running two fingers along her slit. She gasps, her body jerking.
"Don't just tease me," she pants. "Put it in. I've been stretching, I'm ready for you."
You line yourself up, the tip pressing against her wet entrance. She moans when you slide the head in, her walls clenching immediately. "Oh—fuck, yes."
The heat of her body wraps around you as you push deeper. Her hands claw at your back, nails dragging lines down your skin. "God, you're so thick. Every time… it feels like the first time."
You groan, bottoming out inside her, your hips flush against hers. "You're so fucking tight, Saerom-ah."
She bites her lip, staring up at you. "That's what happens when you fuck a woman who knows what she wants."
You pull back and thrust into her, hard enough to make her gasp. She wraps her legs around you, locking you in place. "Yes, just like that—don't hold back. Give me that energy."
Your hips pound against her, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room. Sweat drips from your forehead onto her chest. She moans louder with every thrust, her head tossing side to side on the mat.
"Fuck me harder," she begs, voice raw. "I can take it. Don't treat me like I'm fragile."
You grab her wrists again, pinning them above her head, and slam into her with reckless force. Her pussy squeezes you tight, wetness spilling down your shaft.
"Ahh—yes! God, yes!" she screams, her body arching under yours. "That's it! That's what I wanted!"
You kiss her again, sloppy and desperate, both of you panting into each other's mouths. She pulls back, gasping, "You're gonna make me cum—fuck—I'm so close!"
Her whole body trembles beneath you as her orgasm crashes. Her pussy clamps down, milking your cock, her legs squeezing around your waist. She cries out your name, nails raking across your shoulders.
The sensation pushes you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you bury yourself deep inside her, hot spurts of cum flooding her. She gasps at the warmth, her eyes rolling back as she feels you fill her up.
For a long moment, you just stay there, breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat, still connected.
Finally, she chuckles weakly, brushing your hair back from your face. "God… that young energy. You're gonna kill me one day."
You grin, kissing her neck. "Or keep you young forever."
She laughs, pulling you tighter against her chest. "Mm. Maybe that's why I can't quit you."
Later that night, the room is dim, only the bedside lamp throwing a soft glow across her skin. Saerom lies on her side, blanket pulled up to her chest. Her breathing is steady, but you notice the little wince when she shifts her hips.
"Mm," she groans, rubbing at her thigh. "You wore me out, kid. My joints are screaming."
You smirk, sliding closer behind her, spooning her body. "That's because you can't keep up with me."
She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Cocky brat. You don't know what it's like when the body starts getting stiff like this. Almost forty, remember? I don't bounce back like you do."
Your hand slips under the blanket, finding her stomach, then lower, resting just above her mound. "That doesn't mean you don't still need it."
Her breath catches. "Ahh… really? After what we did earlier?"
You nuzzle into her neck, your cock already hard and pressing against her ass through the thin sheet. "I'm still not done with you. You drive me crazy, Saerom. Every stretch, every moan—you think I can just let it stop there?"
She bites her lip, turning her head slightly toward you. "You're relentless."
"Say you don't want it, and I'll stop," you whisper, fingers brushing her folds, already damp again.
Her hips twitch involuntarily, betraying her. She exhales sharply. "Fuck… see? My body betrays me. Even sore, I still want it."
You slide two fingers inside her, slow but deep. She whimpers, clenching around you. "Oh, god… you're insane."
"I told you—I've got too much energy for one round."
Her hand reaches back, blindly grabbing your thigh. "Then… at least be gentle this time. Don't break me."
You chuckle low, kissing her shoulder. "Gentle… but deep. You'll feel every inch."
Shoving the blanket aside, you guide yourself against her entrance, pushing in from behind. Her mouth opens wide in a silent cry as your cock stretches her again.
"Fuck, fuck—" she gasps, gripping the sheets tight. "So full… oh my god."
You move slowly, savoring her tightness. The wet sounds fill the room, her body squeezing you like it hasn't had you just hours ago. You kiss her neck, murmuring, "Still tight. Still perfect. You think age changed that?"
She moans, voice trembling. "No… god, no. You make me feel… like I'm still in my twenties."
You thrust deeper, her ass pressing against your hips. Each push makes her cry out louder, her body caught between sore tension and throbbing pleasure.
"Take it, Saerom," you groan in her ear. "Let me fuck you again. Let me remind you you're still mine."
Her body shudders, and she pushes back against you, despite her soreness. "Yes… yes, I want it! Use me again, I don't care if I can't walk tomorrow!"
Your pace quickens, your cock driving into her soaked pussy, the sounds wet and shameless. She screams into the pillow, her nails clawing at the mattress.
"Ahhh—fuck, yes! Harder! God, I love it when you don't let me rest!"
Her walls tighten, pulsing around you as another orgasm rips through her. She trembles violently, tears stinging her eyes from the overwhelming sensation.
You slam into her a few more times before groaning loud, spilling hot inside her again. She feels every pulse, her pussy milking every drop out of you.
When it's done, you collapse against her back, both of you sweaty and trembling. She's gasping for air, laughing between breaths.
"You… animal," she whispers, voice hoarse. "You're gonna fuck me into an early grave."
You grin against her neck, still buried deep inside. "Then I'll die right after you. Can't stop anyway."
She shakes her head, still smiling despite her exhaustion. "Young boys… dangerous. But addictive."
The next morning, sunlight spills through the blinds. You're already awake, scrolling idly on your phone. Saerom stirs beside you, groaning like every muscle in her body is protesting.
"Ughhh…" she mutters, throwing an arm over her eyes. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."
You grin, sliding the phone aside. "Not a truck. Just my cock."
She peeks at you through her fingers, hair a mess, eyes puffy with exhaustion. "You think that's funny? My hips are killing me. My thighs are sore. Even my arms—how the hell did you make my arms sore?"
You laugh, rolling closer, kissing her cheek. "Maybe it's the yoga. Maybe it's me pinning you down like a maniac."
Her lips twitch into a smirk. "You were supposed to take it easy on me last night, remember? What part of pounding me like a jackhammer was 'gentle'?"
"You didn't complain when you were screaming into the pillow."
Her face flushes, and she smacks your chest weakly. "Shut up."
You pull the blanket down, exposing her bare body. Her breasts spill free, nipples still sensitive from how rough your mouth had been. Between her legs, a mess lingers—your cum, dried against her thighs, the faint redness of being used twice in a row.
"God, look at you," you murmur, trailing your fingers down her stomach. "So sore… but so sexy."
She squirms, covering herself. "Don't look! I'm disgusting right now."
"Disgusting? No. This is the hottest sight I've ever seen. You look like a woman who got fucked properly."
Her eyes flicker with something between embarrassment and pride. She lowers her arm. "You're impossible."
You lean down, kissing her neck softly this time. "I could make it better, though. Loosen you up."
Her body stiffens. "Better not mean what I think it means."
Your hand slips lower, over her mound, two fingers teasing her slit. She gasps, already twitching.
"Stop—stop, I'm too sore!" she protests, but her hips tilt up on their own.
"Your mouth says stop," you whisper, brushing her clit in lazy circles. "But your body… it's begging for me."
She bites her lip, hiding her face in the pillow. "Goddammit. You're insatiable."
You kiss down her spine, sliding lower until your face is between her thighs. The smell of sex from last night lingers, musky and raw. You spread her legs, licking through the mess. She whimpers, gripping the sheets.
"Ahhh—no, no, don't—oh god."
You lap at her slowly, savoring the taste of her mixed with your cum, licking her folds clean. Her whole body shivers, torn between soreness and the flood of new pleasure.
"Fuck! You're crazy—who eats pussy after fucking me raw twice?" she cries, voice breaking.
"Someone who can't get enough of you," you answer against her pussy, your tongue pushing deep.
Her moans rise again, muffled by the pillow she buries her face into. "I hate you… I hate that you make me this wet when I swore I was done…"
You work her until her thighs tremble uncontrollably, until she's clutching the pillow like a lifeline. Finally, she breaks, cumming again, soaking your mouth.
When you crawl back up, her chest is heaving, hair damp with sweat. She looks at you with dazed eyes. "I'm ruined. You've ruined me."
You kiss her forehead, grinning. "You'll be fine. You just need breakfast."
She laughs weakly. "Breakfast? I won't even be able to walk to the kitchen."
"Then I'll carry you."
"You'd better," she murmurs, curling against you. Then, softer: "Still… I don't know if it's the sex or your energy, but… I feel alive. Younger, even."
You squeeze her tight. "Told you. I'll keep you young forever."
She smirks, eyes closing again. "At this rate, you'll also keep me limping forever."
By late morning you finally drag her out of bed. Saerom shuffles behind you like her bones are eighty instead of almost forty, wearing nothing but one of your shirts.
"Don't you dare laugh," she warns, gripping the doorframe as she eases into the kitchen. "My legs feel like jelly. This is your fault."
You bite your lip, trying not to grin. "I warned you last night."
She shoots you a glare, but it softens when you guide her to a chair. "Sit. I'll cook."
She plops down with a groan, spreading her thighs unconsciously as she adjusts in the chair. The sight makes your cock stir again, especially when you notice the faint bruises on her hips where you'd held her too hard.
"You're staring again," she mutters, resting her chin on her hand.
"Can't help it. You're glowing."
"Glowing? More like wrecked," she says, but she smirks when you step closer.
You set the pan aside, lean down, and kiss her lips, slow but hungry. She pulls you in, her tongue teasing yours. Then she breaks away, breathless. "You're not really going to make me eat before you fuck me again, are you?"
You chuckle. "You said you couldn't walk."
Her eyes glint. "Maybe I just need another reason to get on my feet."
In one swift motion, you yank her up from the chair and lift her onto the counter. She gasps, wrapping her legs around your waist.
"Fuck, you're insane," she says, but her hands are already tugging your shorts down. "We're gonna burn the kitchen down."
"Breakfast can wait," you murmur, pulling her shirt up and sucking her nipple into your mouth. She cries out, arching into you, her pussy rubbing against your cock.
"Put it in," she begs, nails digging into your shoulders. "Don't tease me, just fuck me."
You line yourself up and thrust into her in one deep push. Her head falls back, mouth wide in a scream. "Ohhh—god, yes!"
The counter creaks under her as you slam into her, each thrust making utensils rattle. She clings to you desperately, sweat dripping down her neck.
"You're dripping all over the counter," you groan, pounding harder.
"Then—fuck—clean me up in the shower," she pants, her voice breaking with each thrust.
Her orgasm comes fast, violent, her whole body shaking as she milks your cock. You grab her hips and grind deep, spilling inside her again, cum leaking down her thighs onto the counter.
She collapses forward, gasping against your chest. "Shower. Now. Or I'm gonna faint."
You carry her straight to the bathroom, both of you still sticky. The hot water steams around you as you pin her to the wall, lips crushing hers.
"You don't rest, do you?" she moans, water dripping down her breasts.
"Not when you're this irresistible."
You drop to your knees, spreading her legs, the spray hitting your back as you bury your face in her pussy. She cries out, clutching your hair, her thighs trembling against your shoulders.
"God—ahh, you're drinking me—ohhh!"
You lick and suck until she's screaming, her juices mixing with the water running down her body. When she cums again, her legs nearly give out, and you have to hold her steady.
Before she can catch her breath, you stand and push inside her under the spray. The water makes every thrust slippery, every slap of skin louder.
"Fuck, yes, yes, yes!" she cries, clawing at your back.
You pound her against the wall, her breasts bouncing, water streaming off her nipples. Her body clenches around you, another orgasm tearing through her.
You bury yourself deep, growling into her ear as you cum hard again, filling her until it spills out, washed down the drain.
When it's over, you hold her up, both of you gasping under the spray. She laughs weakly, head on your shoulder.
"You're… a monster," she whispers. "A beautiful, young monster."
You kiss her temple, smirking. "And you're addicted."
She chuckles, too tired to argue. "Yeah. God help me, I am."
By the time the two of you stumble back into the bedroom, your bodies are squeaky clean but absolutely spent. Saerom collapses face-first onto the mattress, her damp hair spilling across the pillow. She doesn't even bother with clothes, just spreads out, breathing hard.
You flop down beside her, smirking at the sight of her bare ass rising and falling with each breath. "You're wrecked."
She groans into the pillow. "That's an understatement."
You trail your fingers lazily down her spine, feeling the little twitches under her skin. She hisses. "Careful. Sensitive."
"Sensitive good?" you ask, leaning closer to kiss her shoulder.
She turns her head just enough for you to catch the faint smile on her lips. "Good… but also bad. My body feels like it's been through war."
You chuckle. "Yoga plus me. Rough combo."
"Mm," she hums, rolling onto her back slowly, like she's eighty. The sheets stick to her damp skin, her breasts bouncing gently as she settles. She stares at the ceiling, half-smiling, half-aching. "My back—" she winces.
You slide over her, kissing her collarbone, whispering, "Want me to make it better?"
Her laugh is low, raspy, but warm. "No, no, don't you dare. If you put that thing in me again, I might never stand upright."
"Worth it," you tease, kissing up her neck.
She smacks your chest weakly. "I'm serious. You've had your fun, energizer boy. Let this poor woman rest."
You grin, nestling against her side, hand cupping her breast gently this time, no urgency. "Fine. But don't blame me if you wake up wanting more."
Her eyes close, a satisfied sigh slipping out. "I already want more… that's the problem."
You hold her tighter, both of you sinking into the mattress, her sore body melting against yours. The air is heavy with sex, sweat, and warmth, but there's no rush anymore—just the quiet throb of what you've done together.
As she drifts toward sleep, she murmurs one last time, voice soft but amused: "Young boys and their energy… you'll be the death of me."
You smile against her skin, whispering, "Or the reason you stay alive."
And then the bedroom falls silent, nothing but the sound of her steady breathing, your bodies tangled, her sore back pressing into the mattress while your hand rests over her heart.
Jiwon had met him at a club, her friends had finally pulled her out for one night, and she had dressed as plainly as she could, in a blouse and jeans. And yet through the crowd they both stood out to one another—to her he was hard to miss; to him she was the most understated person at the club, her outfit quiet but the lines contained within screamed out, and he had to talk to her.
"Hi, can I buy you a drink?"
Jiwon turned around, and then had to look up. He towered over her, almost a whole head taller. He had stood out to Jiwon quite literally earlier, peeking out over the crowd waiting to get in the club, and now that he was up close, the difference was even more startling. Good looking too, Jiwon added to herself.
"Sure, why not, surprise me."
He gets her a mojito, the cocktail glass seemingly small in his hand, and yet when he passes it to her, it magically grows to a normal size. They get to talking, the friends who brought her out seemingly forgotten and disappeared into the human mass on the dance floor. He cocks his head that way.
"Wanna dance?"
Dance they do, the anonymity of being in the crowd letting both of them be more daring. His hands find her hips, marveling at her figure, and she finds his arms, feeling them up as she grinds against him. Jiwon's temporarily startled when she feels something else, and the next grind against him is more insistent, searching and confirming—he's big. A small groan floats into her ear, the grip on her hips tightening.
"What's your name?"
"Jiwon."
"How about we take this somewhere more private, Jiwon?" It doesn't take long for Jiwon to come up with an answer—it had been a while since her last fling, and living with her members doesn't make it any easier. She grabs the large opportunity with both hands.
"Your place?"
They pull their own disappearing act, reappearing at his apartment with a loud crash of the door. Jiwon jumps into his hands as soon as appropriate, which is when the door closes, and she moans into the kiss while he brings them to the bedroom, large hands squeezing her ass the whole way.
"Eager?"
"You're one to talk," she chides him, feeling him pressing against her insistently. Still in his arms she unbuttons her blouse, delighting in his throb against her when she discards the piece of clothing. Jiwon is tossed to the bed as he pulls his shirt off, and Jiwon can't help but bite her lower lip, ready for what is to come. He curses softly as she wriggles out of her jeans, admiring her figure—he had truly gotten lucky tonight.
"You're so fucking hot," he murmurs, kissing her as he reaches behind to undo her bra. It comes off without resistance, and while her arm automatically goes to cover herself, Jiwon pulls it away quickly, letting him take her in as she runs a hand across his chest, feeling how fit and muscular he is.
"Make me feel hotter." A request that he would happily fulfill. His hand seems to cover her belly, pausing right above her panties. A silent nod later it dives under, two thick fingers coated almost instantly in slick. Jiwon groans at the stretch, even this was more than she was accustomed to. His fingers are long too, seeming to tickle right at the base of her spine when he curls them.
"Oh! That's—" she quickly covers her mouth. Maybe it has been a little too long, but Jiwon leans into the stretch, her back arching off the bed to try and drive herself deeper on to him, she's so close already!
"You're way too hot for just fingers." Jiwon backs away from the edge, and when her eyes are open again she's staring at it, no him, no, it, straight in the face—it's big, longer than the toys she's tried, certainly thicker, and she definitely wants it inside her. Her mouth is already open before she realizes what she's doing, and she lets herself do it, stuffing her mouth with his meat. "Oh fuck, that's good." Jiwon can only let out a huff in reply—he looks big and feels bigger, and she has to stretch her jaw stretch to accommodate him, her teeth lightly grazing his shaft. She settles for his head, tongue swiping across it, tasting his saltiness. She tries to go deeper, but she's still some way from his hips when she can feel her gag reflex kicking in, and with a gasp has to let him go. Maybe some other time she'll try again, but she knows one way she can take him without gagging.
"Wait, let me get a condom," he says, and Jiwon blinks, as if in a trance, panties already halfway down her legs. How could she forget? She was ready to just take him raw! She gives a slight nod of embarrassment, but her eyes are glued to his cock as he stretches a rubber over it. As soon as it's on she's on him as well, hand barely fitting around him as she points it cuntward.
"Hnngk!" Jiwon feels the stretch immediately, her entrance shoved open by the sink of her hips.
"Slowly, you look so hot." Taking my cock, he adds internally, watching the beautiful girl he just met at a club bite her lip and sink a little more on to him. She's tight, her walls rubbing against his tip as she keeps going down, small bolts of pleasure going through him despite the rubber. Soon Jiwon's on her knees, having taken a few inches and with more to go.
"Do you want me to be on top?"
"No, it feels good like this..." She gyrates her hips, trying to screw herself quite literally on to him. Jiwon braces her hands on his chest, leaning forward more and more as she pushes herself down. A small shift of his hips, and Jiwon yelps into his mouth as the last inch is hilted inside her.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, you're just really big," she mumbles into his neck, and he was going to tell her to take her time, but—
"And I fucking love it." There's an audible clap of flesh as Jiwon slams her hips back down on him, making him moan and her cry out. She tries to clench around him, but her muscles don't move, like there's no give to the hard rod of meat inside of her, her walls so overwhelmingly stretched and pushed apart. A low "Fuuuck..." of relish is all she can muster, her mind barely able to handle the pleasure he is giving her. Jiwon's hips move with a mind of their own, and that's good because her pussy's fully preoccupied with him inside her, especially when he begins to thrust upwards, hands on her waist easily moving her up and down his shaft.
"You feel incredible," he gasps, marveling at how incredible she looked as well—Jiwon's hair is flying as she begins to bounce harder on him, adjusting to his size better now. Her tits move too, her entire body alternating between arching her back when she's jammed full of cock, and curving forward, letting her brace on him as he pulls out. Jiwon's so light that he can push his hips up in the air, letting gravity help fuck her even harder, making her scream on this spine-tingling rollercoaster.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck you're going to make me cum, you're going to— Ahhh!" Jiwon collapses on top of him, screaming into his chest as her orgasm slams through her. She feels an arm wrap around her waist, pressing her against him belly to belly, and the cock pounding into her begins throbbing, prolonging her peak as he's arriving at his.
"Shit Jiwon, argh!" She's so stretched she feels every pulse inside her, a sudden bulb of warmness felt as the condom is filled, his last few thrusts finally growing weak and coming to a rest. There's a dull buzz in her head, as if to say Yes, now we're satisfied! She lays on his chest for a few moments, before a different kind of dull buzz brings her back to reality.
"Where's my phone?" Jiwon scrambles off his body, finding her purse and fishing out her phone. "What is it?"
"Unnie where are you! It's almost curfew!"
"I'll be a little late, make up something for me." She hangs up and whirls around, finding him holding up her clothing.
"I guess a round 2 is out of the question? Who still has a curfew though?"
"I-I'm an idol, so... Yeah." His eyes widen, suddenly understanding how she found her way to his place.
"That explains things. Must be hard to find some time for yourself in a dorm."
"No I don't— You felt big and—" Jiwon shuts her mouth immediately, ignoring his beam and trying to get dressed quickly.
"You felt good too, so much so that I want to see you again. How about it? Would be easier than trying to find you at a club next time."
"Yes! I mean, yeah, that works for me. I'll let you know." Jiwon tries to play it off, but the spark when he touches her hand to pass her phone back is undeniable.
"Sure, you're the busy one, hope to see you on TV."
"Yeah um, see you soon." She hurries back to the dorms, and she's grateful that he didn't leave any marks or hickeys earlier, but he did leave his mark in her. That night Jiwon felt a good kind of sore, not from working out too much or going too hard in dance practice, but from a good thorough fuck. She never got that from her fingers or her toys, neither of which are big enough to quite satisfy her. She slept better that night than she ever had, and she woke up the next morning with one thing on her mind.
She'd have to see him again.
So she does, several times, each time leaving his place sore and happy. He was accommodating—when she needed a quickie, he'd let her bounce on him, his fingers rubbing her clit to help her along. A bottle of water and a kiss, and she was on her way out, toeing the line between casual and efficient. On days she knew she had the next day off, Jiwon let him have his way with her, delightfully screaming her head off as he fucked her silly, using her as an additional wrapper to the condom around his cock. Nights where her feet spent more time in the air than on any bed or floor were the best, stretching her to her limits as she's either pounded into the bed, wall, or door; or carried and bounced haplessly on his cock, cumming the whole time. She's often bed-ridden the next day, hips sore and walking funny when she had to move, but otherwise just ordering takeout and sighing as she remembers the previous night. She's taken to returning to the dorms in his oversized clothes, just to hide the marks left from the night, and so far she's managed to pass it off as her changing fashion sense; if she has to take a bit of flak from her members, so be it.
*Are you free tonight?* This was looking like one of those nights, as Jiwon checked her schedule for tomorrow and cheered internally when she found it blank.
*Yeah but it'll have to be outside, friend is sleeping over at my place*
*Drunk friend* he follows up, quelling the unexpected jealousy in Jiwon's chest. She figures out the next best solution, a love hotel in between the two of them, far enough that no one in the area would recognize her going in, but close enough that she could get back before anyone notices.
*Meet me here at midnight* Nervously Jiwon waits for her members to fall asleep or sneak out themselves, and when she arrives fifteen minutes late she's thankful to see his big form still there.
"Sorry, took a while to get out." She pulls her mask down to smile at him before slipping it back on, maintaining her cover.
"No problem, this the place?"
"Yeah." The two of them head into the love hotel.
"Welcome, how many hours?" The guy at the desk drawls, not even looking up, until he doesn't hear any response. "Hm?" The two of them fidget—this never came up before, how much time would they spend "together"? This felt more official all of a sudden, a young couple stealing away for some privacy.
"Er, one night?" Jiwon offers nervously.
"70,000 won."
"Here." He takes the money and slides a keycard and some toiletries to them without a second glance.
"Have a good night."
They are silent as they walk down the corridor to their room, ears unconsciously perked to see if they can hear anything, both excited and nervous.
"This is us."
"Uh huh." The two of them sit on the bed, neither making a move just yet.
"This is awkward," he offers. "Should we just try another time?"
"No! I mean, you already spent the money for this place." Jiwon swings her legs across him, getting in his lap. "Do you want to do this?"
"Yeah." His arms wrap around her waist, hands already slipping under her t-shirt.
"Okay, then let's not think too much." She lets her weight sink down on him, planting herself there as they make out. "I want your big buddy."
"And I want your tight body."
"You have it, gotta get our money's worth okay?"
"Yeah, we will." Tops are pulled off, bra undone, underwear removed, and then— "Condom." She rummages through what was given and finds some, but they don't fit right on him, only one of the sizes offered barely fitting.
"Does it hurt?" Jiwon asks, watching the rubber stretched tight around him.
"No, tighter than usual but it's fine, I think." Without another word she slides on to him, a soft moan leaving both of them.
"I missed this, uff the stretch..."
"Tight as always, fuck!" Wordlessly she grinds her hips down on his lap, letting herself be slowly stretched just the way she likes it. His hands react to her movements, going from her waist to her ass, squeezing and spreading them as she moves, as if trying to get deeper in her. She locks her feet around his lower back, willing herself to slam harder and faster on him. Her waist is held once more, and he's now pushing and pulling her on his dick, making Jiwon move faster against him.
"Faster, harder! I'm gonna cum!" She yells into the kiss, muffling herself against his lips. A firm squeeze of her hips, and a rough jam on to his cock, and both of them finish together, moans of relief as the awkwardness of doing it in a love hotel fades—this is sex as they were familiar with. Jiwon eyes the filled condom curiously—the load looks bigger in the smaller rubber, or maybe he hadn't done it in a while?
"It's been a bit since we last met," he confirms a little sheepishly.
"Yeah, I was busy." She tears open another condom, stroking him until she can roll it on again. "But we have to make the most of our money right?"
"I have plenty left."
"Good," Jiwon lays on the bed, legs spread and inviting. He doesn't need a second invitation, and she gasps as he enters her a little too quickly—she's missed this feeling!
"We're here to fuck. So, fuck me." He understands the task perfectly, and immediately they're testing the bed's integrity and finding it wanting, the loud creaking of the springs only adding to the moans she begins to let out.
"Oh fuck, just like that, stretch me out, you're getting so deep!" Jiwon's getting so close, her breaths cutting short on every thrust, he makes her cum so damn fast sometimes—
He stops. She opens her eyes, only to see him roll her over, their faces pressed together and into the pillows. He slides in her again, and this time with the pillow acting as a proper muffler Jiwon screams, his cock rubbing at her g-spot and then going far past it. He's humping her incessantly, the poor bed crying out as Jiwon screams into it, she's so tight, so fuckable, so... wet?
"Don't stop, don't stop! Hnngh!" Jiwon's legs kick up when he halts abruptly. "No I'm so close, keep going!"
"Fuck wait, Jiwon wait! The condom ripped." He grunts through gritted teeth—feeling her raw was something else, his sensitive tip being squeezed by her slippery walls directly. He can feel her contracting erratically, even if he's staying still, they're both so close!
"No, don't stop!" They're spooning now, Jiwon keeping him inside her when he tries to roll off. Her arm is on his neck, and a leg is hooked back against his hip, trying to keep him as close to her is possible. "Please keep fucking me, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!"
"Nngh fuck, are you sure, I should pull out!" But he's getting even deeper in Jiwon in the new position, and she drags his hand over her mons. The blood's pounding in his head, and he can feel himself ramming deep into Jiwon. Curled against him she's wracked by spasms, pre-orgasmic sparks before she combusts. She should probably let him pull out, but Jiwon's so close to her peak, and right now good-looking, fit, and tall, not to mention big is checking all the boxes in her lizard brain to being bred by him. He's literally at her door, she should just let him in and—
"Hnngh!"
A blushing couple walks by the room outside, hearing the lovemaking a little too clearly. They hear Jiwon begging to cum and his protests mixed with moans and grunts. The girl's jealous of Jiwon—she never feels that good during sex; The guy's jealous of Jiwon's partner because—
"Just cum in me, cum in me!"
Unaware of their unexpecting eavesdroppers Jiwon's scream matches her lover's moan in volume, an illicit wave of pleasure rushing through her as his thick seed surges into her for the first time. She has always felt the condom tip fill when he's blowing deep inside her, vaguely wondering if it'll ever pop, but this time she feels all of it, every single drop that was stored in his balls, pouring into her womb.
"Unngh yes!" "Fuck it feels so good!" Both of them gasp at the feeling of cumming raw together, bodies trembling and sweating. He slips out of her, the condom tattered and torn over his shaft, much like their mental faculties.
"Ahh!" Jiwon feels two fingers shoved into her, moving the cum around, digging. He removes what's left of the condom from inside her, his digits creamy and covered in his own cum. She cleans it off gratefully, and the two of them just lay there, processing what happened before reality hits.
"Damn, I'm sorry, I should have pulled out, should have stopped," he buries his face in her neck, kissing her lightly in apology.
"No, it's fine, I got carried away too. I'm safe, I'll take a pill tomorrow too just in case. You're clean right?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Yes, you're the only one I have sex with." The words slip out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
"Same." He wraps his arms around her, spooning her fully.
"Really? Since when?" she asks quietly.
"I forget, since we met?"
"Thought you would be picking up girls left and right in the club regularly with that big thing of yours."
"They're not as hot, or tight."
Jiwon chooses her next words carefully.
"I can't date right now, but if you're willing to keep things exclusive physically, I think we can forego the condoms." Try as he might to restrain himself Jiwon can feel him tremble, his cock stiffening already between her thighs.
"What if you're not safe?"
"Just try to pull out, and you stock up on morning after pills, at least your cock won't rip a pill up."
"Yes ma'am." With that out of the way, Jiwon turns to face him, kissing him and stroking his shaft slowly.
"Now let's continue making the most of our time here, hm?" He tops her easily, pushing into her raw for the first time. "Oh fuck, it's so hot inside me!"
"You're so wet!" he gasps, the sensation of her walls gripping him utterly exquisite. He feels the load from earlier—Jiwon's downright creamy from being filled up, and there's nothing he wants to do more in the world than to top her off right now.
"Haah! Harder, fuck me harder!" They might be in a seedy love hotel, but Jiwon's in heaven, feeling every throb and pulse of him spearing her open. His tip brushing over her walls like nothing's in between them, because there was nothing in between them. She wraps her legs around his hips, biting her lip to stifle her cries—she screamed just now because she wanted to cum so badly, this time she might scream because she's going to cum so hard.
"Oh shit..." The sight of Jiwon's lip bite is fatal, instantly ending his stamina and swiftly topping her womb off with his cum. The additional heat sends a bolt up her spine, and she's cumming with him, a scream screeching through her teeth as she milks him for every last drop. "Fuck, I came too fast—"
He looks at Jiwon, grabbing her stomach and wincing. "What happened? Did I go too hard? Are you hurt?"
"No, ah! Cramping—" she hisses through her teeth. "Came too hard!" Unsure what to do he places his hand on her flat tummy, massaging it and praying it helps. Jiwon takes deep breaths, willing herself to relax as she continues to twitch in soreness. As she relaxes his load comes dripping out, continuously leaking on to hastily placed tissues.
"Fuck... That was a first," she mutters. "I feel so sore."
"You keep gripping me too tight, that's why."
"Can't help it, you're too fucking big! But don't be sorry," Jiwon assures him she's fine. "Big things are good in small doses."
"Everything in moderation eh? We should just go back and rest then, would be better to sleep in your own bed to recover, this bed sucks."
"I— Yeah you're right. Let's just shower quickly, I can't smell like this when I go back." The two of them share a playful shower, one with no finish as they tease each other for the next encounter.
"Let me see you back to the dorm, just in case."
"No, someone might see us!"
"No one's up this late at night."
"Precisely why I can find my way back myself."
"Precisely what anyone that's still up this late would want! I'll go with you until you're one block away?" Jiwon reluctantly agrees, and as the two of them exit the love hotel they realize they could hear quite a bit going on.
"Do you think people heard us?" Jiwon wonders.
"Probably."
"Ugh, we'll need to pick a different one next time."
"I won't have drunk friends staying over any more from now on, promise. Don't forget to take the pill."
"I won't, just make sure you have some when I come over."
"Mmhmm, see you soon." He leaves a chaste peck on her forehead, causing Jiwon to blush harder than ever.
"Go!"
The next day three boxes of unopened condoms are left out for anyone to take, they read: XL, XL, XL.
Who wants it?
A/N: Always found E.Ji extremely pretty (and hot) and their latest comeback XL (Extra Love) is very nice, so thought about making it about being a bit of a size queen/liking big cocks, or a size difference at least lol. Of course I took too long to write it so their comeback is done already, but do check out the song, and thanks for reading!
counts: ~5000 words
tags: smut, angst, fluff, creampie
synopsis: Your gamer girlfriend, Nagyung, swears nothing can pull her from her matches, but you prove otherwise. You distract her with fingers, mouth, and relentless teasing until she melts. She flips the script, riding you raw, leaving you ruined. Even over noodles, you can’t resist pushing her back into bed again
You come home late, sliding your bag off your shoulder, already knowing what you'll find. The glow of the monitor spills out of the bedroom before you even turn the corner.
Nagyung is there, curled up in her chair, headset on, legs tucked under her, eyes glued to the screen. Her fingers dance over the keys and mouse, quick and sharp, mouth slightly open as she mutters into the mic.
"Push mid, push mid—don't feed, idiot!" she barks at some poor teammate, her voice sharp with focus. She doesn't even glance when you walk in.
You lean on the doorframe, watching. "Hey."
No response.
"Nagyung."
Still nothing. Her character on screen is sprinting across the map, shooting, dodging. Her tongue slips out to wet her lips, totally lost in the game.
You sigh, stepping closer, sliding a hand down her shoulder. She jerks, shrugging you off without looking. "Busy."
That word has become her shield. Busy. Always busy when she's gaming.
"You've been on for hours," you murmur.
"Match is almost done," she shoots back, eyes never leaving the screen. Her hand slaps keys, mouse clicks rapid-fire. "Don't distract me."
But that's exactly what you want.
You circle behind her chair, slipping your arms around her waist. She squirms once, annoyed. "Yah—seriously, stop."
Her voice is sharp, but her body is warm under your hands. You press closer, lips brushing her ear. "Can't help it. You look too good like this."
"Later," she says quickly, headset slipping as she tilts her head away. "Let me finish this round."
You chuckle softly, sliding your hands lower. Her oversized T-shirt rides up easily. She freezes for half a second when your fingers graze bare thigh, then forces her focus back to the screen.
"Don't. Distract. Me," she repeats, firmer.
Your grin widens. Challenge accepted.
You crouch beside her chair, eyes level with her lap, and slowly push the shirt higher. Her thighs shift, squeezing together. "You really gonna ignore me?" you ask quietly.
Her breath hitches—just once—but she's stubborn. "If I die, it's your fault."
"Mm. Worth it."
You lean in, lips pressing against the inside of her thigh. She squirms, pressing her knees tighter, but you pry them open with gentle persistence. Her eyes flicker toward you for a split second, then back to the monitor.
"Nnh—seriously, babe…" Her voice is softer now, but her fingers are still on the mouse and keys.
You don't stop. Your mouth trails higher, tongue teasing. By the time you press a kiss against the heat beneath her panties, her breath is shaky.
"God, you're such an ass," she whispers, headset slipping around her neck.
"Just playing my own game," you murmur, sliding the thin fabric aside.
She tries to hold it together. Her eyes are wide, locked on the screen, but her hips twitch when your tongue finds her.
"F-fuck—wait—" Her voice cracks, louder than she means, mic picking it up. On the other end, someone yells, "Nagyung? You okay?"
She slaps the mute button instantly, cheeks flushing. "Shut up," she hisses at you, hand fumbling at her controls.
You smirk against her, savoring the way she's struggling to keep composure. Her thighs are trembling already, her focus split between the chaotic fight on-screen and the one you're waging between her legs.
"You're wet," you tease, tongue sliding slow.
"Shhh—shut up—don't—ah—" She bites down hard on her lip, muffling the sounds threatening to escape. Her free hand grips the desk edge tight, knuckles white.
You speed up, tongue and lips working her until she's rocking forward in her chair, little gasps breaking past her control. Her character on screen is running aimlessly now, forgotten.
"I—I can't—fuck—" she whimpers, finally dropping the mouse.
You pull back just enough to meet her eyes. They're glassy, desperate, her stubborn gamer focus completely shattered.
"Told you I'd distract you," you whisper.
Her jaw clenches. "Bed. Now."
You grin, helping her out of the chair. Her headset tumbles to the desk, forgotten as she grabs your hand and drags you toward the bed. The monitor still glows behind you, game running without her, but she doesn't care anymore.
She shoves you down, climbing onto your lap, kissing you hard—messy, urgent. Her taste is still fresh on your tongue, and she moans into your mouth, grinding against your growing hardness.
"You couldn't wait, huh?" you tease, hands gripping her hips.
She glares, cheeks flushed. "Shut up and fuck me."
Her bluntness makes you groan. You flip her easily, pressing her down into the sheets, tugging her shirt over her head. She's bare underneath, nipples hard, skin flushed. She arches into you, fingers pulling at your clothes, impatient.
"Now," she pants, spreading her legs wide, needy.
You push into her in one hard stroke, and she cries out, clinging to your shoulders. Her body is hot, dripping, tight around you.
"God—yes—" she gasps, nails raking your back.
You thrust deep, steady at first, then harder as her moans grow louder. She's no longer the sharp-tongued gamer glued to her screen; she's undone, begging, losing herself completely.
"Harder—fuck, please—" she whimpers, wrapping her legs tight around your waist.
You pound into her, the bed creaking under the force, her voice rising with each thrust. She's loud now, shameless, the kind of noises her teammates would never believe come from her.
Her body tenses suddenly, nails digging deep. "I'm—fuck—I'm coming—"
You don't let up, driving her over the edge. She shudders violently, crying out your name, wetness flooding around you. Her whole body shakes as the orgasm tears through her, leaving her limp beneath you, gasping.
You don't stop.
Her eyes widen as you keep moving, relentless. "W-wait—too much—" she whines, squirming, but her body betrays her, clenching around you, begging for more even as she protests.
You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "You said shut up and fuck you. So that's what I'm doing."
Her moan is broken, desperate. "God—yes—don't stop—"
You thrust harder, faster, until you're right at the edge, and then you let go, spilling deep inside her with a groan. Her legs tighten around you, holding you in as if she doesn't want to let a drop escape.
For a moment, the room is nothing but ragged breathing and the faint hum of her abandoned game.
She finally exhales, hair sticking to her sweaty face, lips swollen. "You're… unbelievable."
You grin, kissing her softly this time. "Still think nothing can distract you?"
Her laugh is weak, breathless. "Shut up."
But the smile tugging her lips tells you she's already forgiven you for making her lose her match.
She suddenly shifts beneath you, rolling you onto your back. Her hair sticks to her flushed cheeks, but her eyes have that sharp glint again—the same focus she gets in front of her monitor, only now it's aimed at you.
"You think you're the only one who can 'distract' someone?" she murmurs, straddling your hips.
Before you can answer, she slides down, lips brushing across your chest, slow and deliberate. Her tongue flicks a line over your skin, leaving wet trails as she moves lower. Your cock twitches against your stomach, still hard from how tight she was.
She smirks when she sees it. "Mm. Guess you're not done."
Her hand wraps around you, firm but teasing, stroking just enough to make your breath catch. Then she leans in and presses a soft kiss to the tip. Another. Then a long, wet lick from base to head, slow enough to make you groan.
"Fuck, Nagyung…"
She grins at the way your voice cracks. "Already falling apart?"
Her mouth slides over the tip, warm and slick, tongue swirling as she sinks lower, taking more of you in. You arch back, gripping the sheets. She bobs her head, rhythm steady, her lips tight around you. Each time she pulls back, she strokes you with her hand, saliva glistening.
Her eyes stay locked on yours, daring you to look away.
"You taste… good," she mumbles around your length, voice muffled. Then she dives deeper, gagging softly but pushing through, her throat tightening around you.
The sound makes your hips buck. She pulls back with a wet pop, wiping spit from her chin, laughing breathlessly. "Don't be greedy. Let me set the pace."
She goes down again, faster this time, messy on purpose. Spit drips from her lips onto your balls, her hand twisting around the base while she sucks you hard. Each slurp echoes in the room, shameless and filthy.
You groan, grabbing her hair, not to force her—just to hold on. "God, you're—too good at this."
Her eyes sparkle with pride, and she hums around you, the vibration making you curse. She takes you deep again, nose pressing against your stomach, throat working as she swallows.
You feel yourself getting close, body tensing. "Nagyung—I'm gonna—"
She doesn't pull away. She only sucks harder, stroking what she can't take, tongue flicking, determined to finish what she started.
The heat builds fast, too much to hold back. You groan her name as you spill into her mouth, hot and heavy. She swallows everything, not wasting a drop, and then slowly pulls off, licking her lips clean.
Her grin is wicked. "Still think you're the only one who can ruin someone's game?"
You're panting, half-laughing, half-dazed. "Yeah… you win that round."
She flops onto your chest, smug and satisfied, whispering, "Next time, don't underestimate me."
Nagyung sprawls across your chest for a few minutes, catching her breath. Then, with that restless gamer energy, she props herself up, hair sticking out in messy strands.
"Alright," she sighs, patting your stomach. "I really need to get back. My rank is dropping if I stay AFK."
You raise a brow. "Seriously? After all that?"
She grins, already half-turning toward her chair. "What? You think I can't handle both?"
Before she can slide off the bed, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her back down. She lets out a sharp gasp, landing on top of you, her legs kicking weakly.
"Yah—what are you doing?" she huffs, squirming.
You tighten your grip, locking her arms to her sides with your embrace. "Not letting you escape this time."
Her cheeks flush, half-annoyed, half-excited. "You're ridiculous. The game—"
"The game can wait," you cut her off, pressing your mouth to her neck. She shivers, her mock protest softening into a shaky sigh.
Her body wriggles against you, not really trying to get free. She feels too good in your arms, her thighs brushing yours, her chest heaving against your ribs.
"You're impossible," she whispers, but her tone has already shifted—less resistance, more heat.
You slide one hand lower, sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt, fingers tracing along her stomach before slipping down between her legs. She stiffens, eyes wide.
"Wait—no, I'm not—"
But the words melt into a gasp as your fingers press against her, finding how wet she still is.
"See? You're not going anywhere," you murmur.
Her forehead drops to your chest, muffling a whimper as your fingers slide past her folds. You circle slow at first, teasing, until her hips start twitching.
"F-fuck—you're… you're mean," she pants, clutching at your arm.
You laugh softly. "Mean? You're soaked for someone who wanted to go back to her game."
She groans, face buried against you, body betraying her with every roll of her hips against your hand. You slip two fingers inside, curling them deep. Her walls clench hard, pulling you in.
"Ahh—oh god—" she cries out, nails digging into your skin.
You keep your other arm tight around her, holding her close as if you'll never let her go. Each thrust of your fingers makes her tremble harder, her thighs squeezing yours, her breath breaking into sob-like moans.
"Look at you," you whisper against her ear. "Melting in my arms. You really think you're going back to that desk after this?"
Her answer is a choked whine, her body rocking helplessly. You pick up the pace, knuckles pressing deep, thumb rubbing hard against her clit.
Her whole body tenses suddenly, back arching. "I—fuck—I'm—"
She shatters in your arms, crying out as the orgasm rips through her. Her legs shake violently, her pussy squeezing your fingers so tight you feel her dripping all over your hand.
You hold her through it, kissing the side of her face, whispering her name while she trembles and moans into your chest.
When she finally slumps, boneless and gasping, you slowly pull your fingers free. She winces from the sensitivity, grabbing your wrist weakly.
"…you bastard," she whispers, voice shaky.
You grin, licking her wetness off your fingers while she watches, dazed. "Still thinking about that game?"
She hides her face in your neck, too flustered to answer. But the way she clings tighter to you says everything.
"You…" she pants, pointing a trembling finger at you. "You locked me down like I'm your hostage. You think you can just do that?"
You smirk, half-teasing. "Worked, didn't it?"
Her jaw tightens. Without warning, she shoves at your shoulder, forcing you flat on the mattress. You grunt in surprise as she straddles you, legs spread wide over your hips, her eyes blazing.
"Fine," she hisses, pinning your wrists against the sheets. "Let's see how you like being the one who can't move."
Before you can retort, she leans down and sinks her teeth lightly into your neck. You groan, tilting your head as her lips follow the bite with a hot, wet kiss.
"Still cocky?" she taunts, moving lower, her mouth dragging across your collarbone.
She nips again, harder this time, and you gasp. "Fuck—Nagyung…"
Her grin is wicked. "What? Sensitive?"
Her tongue flicks your nipple suddenly, then she closes her lips around it, sucking hard. Your back arches before you can stop it, a guttural sound tearing out of your throat.
"Shit—"
She laughs softly against your chest, the vibration teasing even more. "Ohh… you're losing it already. You make fun of me for being distracted, but look at you."
Her teeth graze over the other nipple, biting just enough to sting. Your whole body jerks, hands flexing in her grip, but she doesn't let go.
"Ah—fuck—"
She lifts her head just enough to look at you, her lips shiny, her breath hot against your skin. "You're mine right now. Got it?"
You nod, desperate, breathless. "Yeah… I'm yours."
Her expression softens for a split second—then she grinds her hips down against your cock, the thin fabric between you both soaked from how wet she still is. You groan, helpless under her.
Nagyung smirks, licking a slow path back up your chest, biting here and there until your skin blooms red under her teeth. By the time she reaches your throat again, you're already trembling with restraint, hips bucking up against her.
She bites your jawline this time, whispering against your ear, "Say you give up."
You growl, half-crazed. "Never."
Her laugh is low, dangerous. "Then I'll just break you until you do."
And with that, she drags her nails down your chest, mouth finding your nipple again, sucking so hard it, her hips grinding harder against your cock with every movement. You can feel the slick heat soaking through her panties, dragging across you in maddening friction.
"Fuck—Nag…" Your voice cracks, your wrists still trapped in her grip.
She lifts her head, her hair wild, eyes dark. "You still think you're in charge?"
You shake your head, breath ragged. "Not right now."
Her smirk curves slow, wicked. "Good answer."
She shifts back, releasing your wrists just long enough to hook her fingers into her panties and drag them aside. Then she lowers herself, sinking down on you in one slow, merciless slide.
The stretch steals your breath. You groan, head thrown back, every muscle tight.
"Ohhh…" Nagyung moans, sinking all the way until she's seated deep on your cock. She shivers, chest rising and falling fast. "So fucking thick…"
Her hands return to your shoulders, pinning you as she starts to move. She rolls her hips first, testing, then sets a brutal rhythm, bouncing hard on you. The slap of her ass against your thighs fills the room, wet and loud.
You grip her hips, trying to match her, but she smacks your hands away. "No," she growls, grinding harder. "You don't get to move unless I say so."
Your control unravels quick. Each thrust has you groaning, cursing, your body straining under her. She leans down, biting your lip, then your jaw, then your neck again, leaving marks everywhere.
"You sound so desperate," she pants against your ear, her breath hot. "All that teasing earlier, and now you're begging without even saying it."
You're close, too close, but she doesn't slow. Her pussy clenches around you, soaked and messy, milking every inch.
"Fuck—I'm gonna—" you groan.
Her nails dig into your chest, her hips grinding down hard, holding you deep inside her. "Not yet," she whispers, biting your ear. "You don't cum until I do."
The command has you trembling, teeth gritted, every nerve on fire. She rides you faster, moaning louder, her body shaking.
"Oh god—yes—yes—" she gasps, her walls fluttering tight around you. "I'm—fuck—I'm cumming—"
She slams down on you one last time, crying out as her orgasm rips through her. Her body convulses, clenching and dripping all over you. The sight, the sound, the feel—it's too much.
You lose it. With a raw groan, you explode inside her, spilling deep as she shudders around you, still grinding to milk every drop.
The two of you collapse together, sweaty, trembling, hearts racing. She lies on your chest, breathless laughter bubbling out.
"Guess you finally shut up," she teases weakly.
You manage a laugh, voice hoarse. "Yeah… you win. No contest."
Her smile is lazy, smug. "Damn right I do."
Nagyung lies across your chest for a few minutes, heart still racing, hair plastered to her skin. When she finally moves, she groans, rolling off you and fumbling for her abandoned headset on the desk.
"I have to log back in," she mutters, voice hoarse, legs still trembling. She tries to stand, but the moment her feet hit the floor, her knees buckle. She curses softly, catching herself on the chair.
You prop yourself on an elbow, grinning. "You sure you're ready for round three in that game? You can barely walk."
"Shut up," she shoots back, cheeks flushed. "They'll kick me from the squad if I don't come back."
You watch her climb into the chair, her oversized shirt hanging loose, thighs still glistening where you've left her dripping. The glow of the monitor lights her up again, and she slides the headset on like she never left.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm back," she says into the mic, voice steadier than her body feels.
But you don't let her get away with it. You crawl off the bed, moving behind her, hands sliding over her shoulders, down her arms. She stiffens instantly.
"Don't," she hisses under her breath. "I'm serious this time. If you make me die again—"
You ignore her warning, lips brushing her ear. "You're still leaking."
Her breath stutters, her voice sharp into the mic. "I—uh—cover top lane."
Your hand slips under her shirt, cupping her breast. She inhales sharply, trying to mask it with a cough.
"Stop it," she whispers harshly, swatting at you with her free hand. But she doesn't push hard enough to make you leave.
You smirk, fingers teasing her nipple until it's hard under your touch. Her in-game character moves clumsily, bumping into walls.
Her teammates notice. "Nagyung, what are you doing?" someone complains in her headset.
She grits her teeth, trying to straighten her aim. "I'm—uh—lagging."
You bite her neck softly, and she gasps, slamming the mute button again. "You're the worst," she growls, writhing in the chair as your other hand trails down between her thighs.
Her body betrays her, already wet again, slickness clinging to your fingers as you slide them over her folds. She clamps her legs together, squirming. "Babe, please—"
You chuckle low against her skin. "Please what? Stop? Or more?"
Her hand shakes on the mouse, her character standing idle on-screen. She groans, frustrated, head falling back against your chest.
"You're gonna ruin my rank," she whines.
"Mm," you murmur, slipping a finger inside her, slow. "Guess I'll just have to make you climb my leaderboard instead."
Her laugh is broken, breathless. "God—you're impossible."
But she spreads her legs anyway, hips rocking against your hand while her teammates shout into the headset, completely unaware of what's really got her distracted.
Her chair squeaks as she squirms, headset slipping while you spread her thighs wider. On-screen, her character is running straight into a wall.
"Nagyung! Focus!" someone yells through her headset.
"I—uh—lag spike," she stammers, her voice trembling as your fingers curl deep inside her.
You smirk against her neck, whispering, "That's not lag. That's me."
She bites her lip hard, trying to muffle the moan that wants to spill. Her hips grind against your hand anyway, her body betraying her.
Her teammate curses. "We're in a teamfight, where the hell are you?"
She slaps the unmute button and forces her voice steady. "On my way—just—just hold!"
But her voice cracks halfway through, a shaky little whimper bleeding into comms. You thrust your fingers faster, thumb circling her clit, relentless.
"Ah—fuck—" she gasps, then slams mute again, glaring back at you with desperate eyes. "Stop—please—"
You grin, lips brushing her ear. "You don't sound like you want me to."
Her head drops forward, hair falling into her face as she clutches the mouse with both hands, trying to play through it. Her character stumbles into the fight, shooting wildly, her movements jerky.
Her teammates groan. "What the hell, Nagyung? You're feeding!"
You curl your fingers just right, and her body jolts, legs trembling. She slaps a hand over her mouth, muffling the loud cry that escapes.
"You're dripping all over the chair," you murmur, dragging your soaked fingers out just long enough to show her the shine before pushing them back inside. "How are you supposed to win like this?"
Her eyes squeeze shut, her voice cracking as she whispers, "I—I can't—fuck—I'm gonna—"
You pin her tighter to the seat, working her faster, merciless, until her body seizes up. Her legs kick against the desk, toes curling, her headset slipping completely as she explodes around your fingers.
She sobs your name into her palm, muffled, her pussy clenching so hard you feel every pulse. Her whole body shakes, hips rocking helplessly as you keep fingering her through it, the wet sounds loud over the frantic game noises from her headset.
Her character dies on-screen. Her teammates scream. She doesn't even care.
When she finally collapses back against you, gasping, thighs soaked and trembling, you lick her ear and whisper, "Game over."
Her laugh is broken, breathless, dripping with defeat. "You asshole… I just lost my rank."
You kiss her jaw, grinning. "You won something better."
Nagyung slumps forward in her chair, headset hanging around her neck, hair damp against her flushed cheeks. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, still catching her breath.
After a long silence, she groans. "Ugh… I'm starving."
You grin, leaning on the desk beside her. "After all that? Not surprised. You burned more energy than your whole team."
She rolls her eyes, smirking faintly. "Don't joke. I need actual food. My stomach's eating itself."
You glance down at her, cock still half-hard, resting heavy against your thigh. "You could always eat me."
The joke slips out casual, teasing. But she lifts her head, eyes narrowing at your crotch, lips twitching. For a second, you think she's going to laugh it off—but instead, she licks her lips.
"…Don't tempt me," she says, her voice low, almost dangerous.
You freeze. "Wait—you're serious?"
She smirks, sliding her chair back a little. "I mean… protein's protein."
The sight of her staring hungrily at your cock sends a jolt straight through you. You clear your throat, forcing a laugh. "You're insane."
"Mm. Maybe." She reaches out, brushing her fingers over your shaft with deliberate slowness. "But don't act like you wouldn't let me."
You groan under your breath, grabbing her wrist gently before she can go further. "If you start, we'll never stop. And you'll still be hungry after."
Her pout is dramatic, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "So what? I like snacks before dinner."
You chuckle, kissing the top of her messy hair. "No. You'll pass out if I let you keep going. I'll make you noodles."
She sighs, leaning back in her chair, feigning defeat. "Fine… but hurry. Or I'll eat something else." Her eyes drop meaningfully back to your cock, making you laugh as you head to the kitchen.
The sound of her game booting back up follows you, mixed with the faintest growl of her stomach. You shake your head, grabbing the instant noodles, muttering, "My girlfriend's a menace."
Steam rises from the pot as the water boils. You can hear her yelling at teammates in the other room again, just like nothing happened—except you know the marks on your chest, the ache in your cock, and the wet stain on her chair prove it's anything but ordinary.
You bring the steaming bowl to her desk, setting it down with a pair of chopsticks. She glances up, headset half-cocked, face lighting up.
"You're the best," she says quickly, already reaching for the noodles.
You grin, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Eat up. You'll need the energy for later."
Her chopsticks pause midair, a flush creeping over her face. "…You're unbelievable."
"Maybe," you shrug, kissing her cheek. "But you love it."
She slurps a noodle noisily, glaring sideways at you with a mouth full of broth. "Shut up."
She devours the noodles like she hasn't eaten in days, head bent over the bowl, broth splattering on her shirt. You lean against the desk, just watching. Every slurp makes you grin wider.
When she finally drops the chopsticks with a satisfied sigh, she pats her stomach and mutters, "Okay. Now I'm alive again."
"Barely," you tease, brushing your thumb across the red bite marks still visible on her neck. "You look like I drained you more than fed you."
Her cheeks flush, but she shoves your hand away, snorting. "Shut up. Back to work."
She swings her chair toward the monitor, headset sliding back on, fingers flying over the keyboard like nothing happened. Her eyes lock on the screen again, sharp and focused.
You plop down on the bed, arms behind your head, watching her from across the room. The glow of the monitor paints her face in blue light, her lips parted slightly, jaw tense.
After a moment, you can't resist. "You know, the way you slurp noodles… exactly the way you sucked my cock earlier."
Her mouse jerks. "Yah—!" She glares back at you, cheeks crimson.
You smirk lazily. "Loud. Messy. Like you didn't care who heard you."
"Shut. Up." She hisses through her teeth, trying to refocus on the game.
You roll onto your side, voice low and steady. "Bet your team doesn't know their precious DPS queen is dripping down her thighs while pretending to carry them."
Her shoulders tense, but she doesn't turn. "I'm ignoring you," she mutters, more to herself than you.
"Mm. Go ahead. Ignore me. But you're clenching your legs right now, aren't you?"
She slams her mouse down. "Goddamn it!" Her character dies instantly on-screen. Teammates yell through her headset, but she rips it off, tossing it onto the desk.
"Happy? You ruined it again!" she snaps, standing so suddenly the chair spins behind her.
You sit up, raising an eyebrow. "Me? Or your imagination?"
Her glare is molten, fists balled at her sides. For a beat, you think she'll actually try to go back to the match. But then she growls, stomps across the room, and shoves you down onto the bed.
"Fine," she spits, climbing over you, straddling your hips. "If you won't let me play, then you're not sleeping either."
Her hands yank your shirt up, her teeth sinking into your chest again, harder this time. You hiss, gripping her thighs as she bites, licks, and sucks her way down your torso with furious energy.
"You wanted my attention?" she pants against your stomach. "Now you're getting all of it."
You groan, cock already stiffening under her. "Oh, I've got no complaints."
She glares up at you, lips swollen, hair wild. "Good. Because I'm not stopping until you're begging me."
Nagyung didn't let up. She bit and sucked and rode you until your voice broke, until you were the one trembling under her, begging her to slow down. By the time she finally collapsed beside you, both of you were drenched, sheets ruined, the glow of her abandoned monitor still flickering across the room.
Neither of you moved for a long time. She just curled against your chest, hair sticking to her forehead, breathing soft and uneven. You stroked her back in slow circles, lips brushing her temple.
"Guess my rank really is fucked now," she whispered, half-asleep already.
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to her messy hair. "Yeah. But so are we."
She laughed weakly at that, the sound muffled against your skin, and then she let herself drift, tangled in your arms.
The game could wait. Tonight, she'd already lost—and won—something better.
kinda disappointed that the burst film outfits aren't gonna be used for promotions...
You were never supposed to be famous.
Not like the other Vixen male stars — the ones with their manicured stubble, scripted groans, timed thrusts. They fucked like they were in a perfume ad. Smooth. Predictable. Safe.
But you?
You were raw. Unruly. Dangerous, even.
You didn’t just shoot scenes — you made the scenes bleed. You ruined takes by moaning too loud. You broke character to whisper real things in your co-star’s ear. You used spit when they expected lube, kept the camera rolling when others would've cut, stared down the lens like it owed you something.
You were a headache. A risk. But you were real. For the love of the game, this generation would say.
The clip that changed everything wasn’t even part of the official cut — it was a leaked behind-the-scenes moment, you wiping sweat off a girl’s back and whispering, “Keep breathing, baby, we’re still rolling.”
Comments flooded in.
Who is this guy?Why does this feel like a fucking movie?Finally. Someone who feels.
So Vixen gave you the reins.
They stopped giving you scripts. Then they let you choose your co-stars. Then your location. Your crew. Your angles. Your vision. The script.
They let you make art out of fucking.
And now? They just give you a budget and tell you not to get arrested.
And so you sat with it — the money, the freedom, the pressure.
You thought long and hard about your next scene. It couldn’t just be wild. That was too easy.
It couldn’t just be beautiful. That was expected. You wanted something hot. Intimate. Erotic. Sensual. A scene that lingered. That made people breathe differently.
You didn’t want noise. You wanted slow burn. Heat under the skin. The kind of tension that makes the audience forget to blink.
So you tapped into your greatest tool — not your cock, not your camera. Your charisma.
You reached out, carefully, quietly. No agents. No casting calls. Just personal messages — subtle, respectful, honest.
And somehow... you got a reply.
Then another.
Two names that used to break the internet with every stage performance. Two women who used to stand under spotlights, adored but untouchable. Two idols turned silent — inactive, but never irrelevant.
Karina and Winter of now-defunct aespa.
You didn’t pitch them a porno. You pitched them an experience. A story. A revival not of their fame, but their fire.
They didn’t say yes immediately. But they didn’t say no, either. It was a few days of deliberation at least.
You knew if you could get them to show up — just once — to see the heat you were crafting, the lens you’d built your legend through…
You’d make something that burns. Something unforgettable. Something that fucks the world up. All you had to do was make them believe.
-
They agreed.
You didn’t ask for rehearsals. You didn’t send a script. You told them to come one hour before call time, meet the crew, get dressed, and let the rest happen on camera.
You wanted authenticity. You wanted them raw.
So when you walk into the shaded prep tent — just off the edge of a dried-out highway, golden hour simmering in the dust — you’re not sure what to expect.
But what you get? Stops you cold.
Winter is the first thing you see. Or rather — her legs. Long, pale, impossibly smooth, kicked up on a folding chair like she owns the place. The red fur wrap clings to her shoulders, barely hanging on. She’s sucking on a cherry popsicle like it’s the only thing keeping her from exploding.
She glances at you and smirks. “You’re late.”
You aren’t. But you let her have it.
Then you hear the click of heels — deliberate, slow, rehearsed — and turn your head just in time to see Karina walk in from behind the dressing screen.
Leathers and skin. That’s all she’s wearing.
A black micro-bodysuit with slits down the side so deep it may as well be lingerie. Her thighs sculpted from whatever gods used to carve desire. Her chest practically spilling out — not by accident, but by design. Hair styled like a diva, eyes like she’s already watching you undress her with your gaze.
She doesn’t smirk. She doesn’t flirt. She just holds your stare and says, flatly:
“So we just fuck? Like this?”
You pause. Not because you’re unsure — but because it hits you, all at once:
What they’re wearing. What they’re not wearing. How much skin they’re showing.
These weren’t just pornstars. Not yet. They were ex-idols — girls who once danced for cameras that demanded purity. Girls whose managers would’ve had heart attacks at even a bare shoulder.
And now?
Now Winter's spread out like a summer fantasy in boots and fur. Now Karina’s practically leaking confidence down her thighs in leather too tight for TV. Now both of them are dressed exactly how you imagined… or maybe better.
You exhale, slow. Then grin.
“Yeah,” you say. “Just like that.”
And in that moment — you’re not thinking about direction, or cameras, or angles. You’re just thinking one thing:
Fuck. This scene’s gonna ruin people.
-
They’re both staring at you now.
Winter, sprawled like a brat in heat, legs parted lazily over the arm of her chair. Karina, standing like a goddess forged from arrogance and polish, arms folded, hips cocked just slightly.
You can feel their eyes on you — curious, skeptical, a little hungry. You decide to give them the story.
You clear your throat and walk to the folding table, where your only “script” is a wrinkled napkin with a single line on it: ‘two girls. one mechanic. desert heat.’
You tap it twice.
“Here’s the plot.”
They lean in — a little.
“Simple. Sexy. Cinematic.”
You gesture toward the empty road just outside the tent, sun still burning in its final hour.
“You two — ex-idols, now just gorgeous strangers — are riding across Morocco. One bike. Two girls. Tight leather. Legs for days.”
Winter licks her lips. “That’s accurate so far.”
You smirk. “You break down in the middle of nowhere. No signal. No help. Nothing but a busted engine, a dry mouth, and the desert sun beating down on your backs.”
Then you pause — take a step closer. Let your voice drop.
“And then… you find me.”
They say nothing, but you see it — the slight shift in Karina’s jaw. The interest behind Winter’s smirk.
“I’m a mechanic. T-shirt clinging to my chest. Grease on my fingers. Living out here alone. No distractions. Just... parts, engines, and long days.”
You hold their gaze. You let them feel the weight of what’s not being said.
“And when a fine fucking mechanic in the middle of nowhere meets two dangerously hot women, dressed like they’ve forgotten what shame feels like…”
You grin.
“…you know shit’s about to go down.”
Winter chuckles. “That’s your pitch?”
Karina raises a brow. “No dialogue?”
You shrug. “Only if it feels earned.”
They glance at each other. They don’t smile. But they don’t say no.
Then Winter stretches, standing up, her fur barely clinging to her chest now. She walks over and taps your chest with a red-nailed finger.
“Better not waste my time, mechanic.”
Karina follows, slow, poised, her leather creaking softly as she passes by — whispering just loud enough for only you to hear:
“Cinematic, right? Make sure you don’t blink.”
And just like that, you know: This isn’t going to be a scene. It’s going to be a fucking event.
-
The camera rolls.
No words. No sound yet. Just the heavy hum of desert heat and the kind of sexual tension that makes skin itch — and throats dry.
She walks into frame.
Winter.
Drenched in sunlight. Draped in nothing but a whisper of red fur, wrapped low around her arms and across her chest like she stole it from a fashion shoot and decided she’d rather fuck in it than pose.
It’s not clothing. It’s decoration. And it’s barely holding on.
The fur clings to her neck, dips across her bare tits — no bra, no tape, not even a pastie. Just soft, round breasts pressing beneath the fabric, nipples hard and obvious, brushing up against the lining with every lazy sway of her hips. The fur shifts when she walks, threatening to fall. Teasing it. She wants you to pray for a gust of wind. She wants you frustrated.
Her bare stomach is tight and glistening — soft abs flexing with every slow, measured step. Her belly looks kissable. Lickable. Like it would twitch under a tongue. A black leather belt rides just above her hipbones, slung low over her barely-there shorts, which might as well be fabric strips stitched together by horniness.
The waistband? Twisted. The zipper? Tugged halfway down.
Her pussy lips aren’t visible yet, but they will be. The shorts are that tight.
Her thighs press together with every step, sweat glistening between them. Long, toned, lickable legs, wrapped in knee-high black boots that catch the light like polished sin. Her calves flex. Her ass peeks out just beneath the edge of the shorts — the underside round and begging to be grabbed.
The camera lingers. Tracks every bounce.
She stops. Spreads her stance. Hands on her hips, elbows out.
Her tactical gloves are glossy black leather — the kind that look good wrapped around a throat or a cock. Her lips are parted, tongue barely visible, wet with spit and suggestion. She breathes like she just got fucked in the heat and needs it again.
She looks into the camera. Then through it. Like she knows who’s watching. Like she knows how hard you are.
She turns her body slightly — side profile, one tit nearly exposed, her arm pressing against the fur to keep it from falling. But just when you think she’s going to adjust it…
She lets it slip.
Half an inch. Then an inch more.
A full sideboob flashes — the curve, the under, the peek of a pink, stiff nipple, visible for a heartbeat before the fur catches on her elbow and stops sliding. Her mouth curls into the ghost of a smirk, as if she’s disappointed it didn’t fall farther.
She shifts her weight. Her thighs press tighter. Her shorts crease right over her pussy, fabric straining against swollen lips that must be soaked already.
She bites her bottom lip. Lets it go. Spit glistens on her mouth.
She turns her head to the side — just slightly.
She’s waiting.
Not for a cue. Not for a line.
For you. The mechanic. The one who’s going to break her on camera.
But not yet. Not just yet.
She holds the frame. Lets the audience ache. Lets them burn.
-
The frame cuts. Then a soft pan. The wind stirs the dust, heatwaves blurring the edges of the horizon like the world itself is starting to sweat.
And then— Karina.
Laid the fuck out on a matte-black Yamaha like it was custom-built to carry nothing but pussy and power.
Her spine curves over the seat with feline grace — not posed, not stiff. Just liquid and confident, like she belongs to the machine and the sun is lucky to shine on her. One arm hangs lazily above her head. The other coils around the bike’s side mirror like she might snap it off if someone tells her to wait.
She’s not in a rush. She’s already won.
Her crop top is more suggestion than garment — rugged, fur-trimmed, collar popped, and wide open across the front. Not pulled tight. Not clipped shut. Just hanging there. And what it reveals is criminal.
Her tits are massive, round, full — the top curves completely exposed. Her nipples poke through the fabric, dark and hard, made harder by the sweat dripping between them, gathering in the valley of her chest. The sun devours her body, and she lets it — her waist glistens, her abs soft but sculpted, the gentle swell of her belly rising with each slow, sultry breath.
She looks fuckable. Edible even. A sweaty meal you would relish with great joy.
Her shorts are tighter than skin — black leather, slippery with heat, clinging to her hips like they’re the only thing holding her together. A silver chain droops low across her pelvis, swinging slightly with each shift of her hips. The zipper’s down a notch — enough to hint, enough to hope.
She shifts just enough for the camera to catch the press of her pussy lips against the inside seam — her fat, glossy mound shaping the leather like it’s trying to escape.
Her boot plants against the asphalt. The other leg is bent, wide — her inner thigh exposed, smooth and gleaming, pointing directly to where her shorts are working overtime.
Her ass peeks just beyond the edge of the bike seat — fat, round, jiggling slightly as the wind passes.
She turns her head.
Hair tousled from heat and movement. Eyes half-lidded, lashes heavy. Lips parted, soft and wet like she just woke from a dream and got fucked in it.
She doesn’t look at the camera. She doesn’t need to. The camera begs to look at her.
There’s no act. No seduction.
This is female arrogance. Sex made still. Power without apology.
She taps the mirror with gloved fingers. Slow. Then again. A silent countdown.
Her boot drags across the gas tank — a squeak of leather against metal. She rolls her hips once, slow, and the creak of her shorts is like a moan waiting to happen.
Her hand slides over her thigh. Higher. Brushes the meat of her pussy through the shorts. Once. Just enough to twitch.
She sighs — like she’s already wet, already full, and she’s just being polite by letting you watch.
The frame holds. No zoom. No cuts. It doesn’t need to.
She draws the viewer in like gravity. Like scent. Like the memory of a pussy you were never allowed to touch but will never forget.
And you, behind the lens, behind the cock aching in your jeans, say nothing. You just breathe.
Because you’ve filmed a thousand asses. A million tits.
But this? This is iconography. This is the reason Vixen still exists.
-
The camera shifts. A sudden cut to sky.
A drone glides overhead, high above the Moroccan expanse. The land is cracked and golden, flat for miles, split only by a single ribbon of asphalt snaking through the middle of nowhere. Heat shimmers off the road in waves. The sun hangs low — late afternoon, merciless and perfect.
Then, in the distance. A roar.
Two girls. One machine.
A jet-black Yamaha eats the highway, its engine low and guttural like an animal held on a leash. Karina drives — hunched forward, eyes locked ahead, leather glinting under the sun. Her thighs grip the bike with effortless control. Wind lashes her hair, but nothing shakes her posture. She rides like she was born to command.
Behind her— Winter, pillion. Arms wrapped loosely around Karina’s waist, red fur billowing behind her like a flag of lust and rebellion. Her chin rests against Karina’s shoulder, eyes half-closed beneath tinted shades. The pose is intimate. Casual. Erotic by accident, and maybe on purpose. Her legs spread wide on either side of the seat, teasing glimpses of skin with every bump in the road.
The drone pulls wide. They slice through the stillness like sin on wheels.
Dust kicks up in their wake. The tail of Winter’s fur streams behind them, tangled with her hair. Karina’s boot taps the gear pedal — calculated, exact.
There’s no music. Just wind, engine, and silence.
Cut to a closer aerial shot — the bike banking slightly as the road curves. Winter leans with Karina, bodies in sync. One entity. One intent.
Then— A small, rusty building appears on the horizon. Lonely. Out of place. A garage. Your garage.
They slow. Kickstand down. Boots crunch gravel.
The bike settles. The dust hangs. The heat holds its breath.
They’ve arrived.
And you — just out of frame, inside, unaware — are seconds away from the moment everything changes.
-
The sound of an engine cuts through the stillness. Low. Approaching. Hungry.
You’re crouched beside an old oil drum outside your garage, hands slick with grease, sleeves rolled, chest glistening with sweat under the weight of a sun that refuses to quit. There's a wrench in your hand, a cigarette in your mouth, and a whole lot of nothing to look forward to.
Until you hear the bike. Then the tires. Then… them.
You don’t look right away. You feel them arrive.
You wipe your hands on a rag. Stand slowly. Stretch. And when you finally lift your head—
You see her first.
Karina. One leg over the bike, leather shorts creaking as she dismounts in one smooth, almost lazy motion. She doesn’t look at you. Not yet. She takes her time removing her gloves, finger by finger, slow and rhythmic. Her boots plant firm on the cracked ground, stance wide, spine tall. She drips authority — even as the sun tries to melt it off her.
Then, behind her— Winter. The red fur’s still on. Barely. Slung across one shoulder, the other completely bare. Her thighs swing around the bike like a dancer exiting the stage. She adjusts her shorts with one tug, lets her fingers trail the seat for no reason but to tease. She squints against the sun, eyes behind tinted glasses, her lips parted like she’s trying to remember how to breathe.
You take them both in.
One dark. One bright. One leather. One fur. Both fire.
They say nothing. Neither do you.
You don’t break character. None of you do. The camera’s rolling somewhere in the distance, catching every flicker of body language, every molecule of heat rising between you.
Karina lifts her head and finally meets your eyes.
Winter drapes the fur tighter across her chest and smirks.
You spit the cigarette out. Let it drop to the sand. Step forward.
And the world slows.
Three strangers. One desert. No words. Only lust coiling beneath the surface — pretending it isn’t.
But everyone watching? They know.
You step forward, slow and measured, every movement soaked in the kind of stillness that hurts to break. The heat presses down like a hand on the back of your neck.
You stop a few feet away, sweat rolling down your jaw, eyes dragging over the busted Yamaha they just rolled in on. You don’t look at them — not directly. Not yet.
Then Karina speaks.
Her voice is low, dry, almost amused. Like this whole situation is beneath her… or exactly where she wants to be.
"We broke down."
You nod once, slow.
“No shit.”
You crouch beside the bike, fingers brushing the metal, feigning curiosity — but your eyes cut to Winter as she shifts her weight, red fur dragging across her stomach like an invitation. Her lips glisten.
She’s the next to speak, tossing her glasses aside, voice light and teasing:
“No signal. No help.”
She leans against the wall, one leg bent, eyes on you like she already knows what you’ll say next.
You don’t look up. You don’t have to.
“And no water either, huh?”
Karina unzips the top of her vest — just slightly. A sheen of sweat clings to her chest.
“Just the sun.” She pauses, then adds — “And you.”
That makes you stand.
Your full height. Towering in the heat. Shirt stained with oil, chest rising. You finally meet their eyes — both of them. One sultry. One smug.
And you smile. Crooked. Dangerous.
“Well.”
You drop the rag from your hand.
“Let’s see what I can fix first.”
You disappear inside the garage, the tension still clinging to your shoulders like sweat-soaked cloth.
The sound of the fridge opening is the only thing cutting through the still air. You grab two bottles — cold, wet, fresh. And when you step back out into the sun, the condensation’s already racing down the plastic like it knows where it wants to end up.
You toss one to each girl. No words. Just heat and implication.
Winter catches hers one-handed.
She doesn’t open it right away. She just presses the cold bottle to her exposed stomach — right at the crease above her shorts. The hiss she lets out is soft, almost inaudible, but the way her abs tighten? The camera catches everything.
She finally unscrews the cap and drinks — slow, messy, sinful.
Her lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle like it’s something else entirely. She gulps once, then tips it higher — and that’s when it happens:
The water misses her mouth on purpose.
It spills down her chin, rolls over her collarbone, and then slides… straight down the center of her bare midriff. Over every dip and ridge of her abs, trailing over that tight line that disappears into her shorts.
She doesn’t wipe it away. She lets it glisten.
Karina, meanwhile, doesn’t even drink.
Not at first. She opens the bottle, lifts it over her head — and pours.
A cold stream spills directly onto her chest, splashing across her cleavage and soaking the low-cut top that barely covers her. The fabric clings to her skin now, transparent in places, the fur-lined vest gaping open with every breath she takes.
The water trails between her breasts like it belongs there — like it knows that’s where every eye is locked. She finally takes a sip, mouth parted, eyes locked on yours.
She lowers the bottle slowly, droplets clinging to her lips before falling — one landing on the curve of her breast, catching the light like glass.
You haven’t moved. Neither has the camera. No one breathes.
The heat of the day is brutal. But this? This is fucking cruel.
And they know what they’re doing. They’re not just hydrating. They’re performing.
For you. For the lens. For the fantasy they’ve already started turning into reality.
And you?
You grip your wrench tighter. Because suddenly, fixing the bike is the last thing on your mind.
You drop your gaze to the Yamaha. Finally — something to touch that won’t make your cock twitch. Or so you hope.
You kneel beside the engine, resting one palm on the sun-warmed metal, the other gripping your wrench. You run through the motions. Belts. Chain. Fuel line. You could fix this in twenty minutes if you really tried — but you won’t. Not now.
Not with them watching you like that.
Karina’s eyes are on your arms. Winter’s licking condensation off her bottle cap.
You grunt, wipe a streak of grease on your forearm, and stand up slow.
“It’s fixable,” you say, wiping your hands on the rag.
“But it’s gonna take a while.”
You pause — let the tension stretch.
“Gonna be some waiting involved.”
You say it casually, not even looking at them. And then Karina speaks, voice low, steady, laced with amused danger:
“Good.”
You glance up. She tilts her head just slightly, chest still glistening from the water, leather sticking to her curves like it’s afraid to let go.
“We’ve got nothing but time.”
You raise a brow. “That so?”
She nods, steps closer. Just one pace — enough for you to smell the sun on her skin. Her voice dips.
“Besides... waiting can be fun. If the company’s good.”
Winter chuckles, lounging back against a tool bench, twirling her bottle like it’s a cocktail.
“You don’t mind us hanging around, do you?”
You shrug, fighting the smirk rising at the corners of your mouth.
“Garage is open. Just don’t touch anything you can’t handle.”
Winter’s mouth parts in mock offense. “Oh, please. I can handle plenty.”
Karina runs a finger down her collarbone, dragging a droplet with it, eyes locked on yours.
“The question is, can you?”
Silence.
You toss the rag aside, hands on your hips.Your shirt’s clinging now — soaked at the chest, dirt at the hem, arms veined and flexed from holding yourself back.
You’re the mechanic. They’re the clients. But the way they’re circling you? You’re the one about to be stripped down.
-
You’re wiping your hands again, pretending to care about the chain tension, when Winter breaks the silence.
She’s poking around your workbench now, bent slightly at the waist, that red fur barely hanging on. Her ass sways with every step. She leans over to inspect a rusted bolt like she’s got a degree in mechanics.
“Hey,” she says, turning back to Karina with a sudden pout, “you got the cash?”
Karina, sitting sideways on a stool, licking a water droplet from her wrist, frowns.
“What? I thought you had it.”
Winter blinks. Shrugs.
They stare at each other. Then at you.
Karina crosses her legs, slow and smooth. The leather shorts creak.
“Shit,” Winter says with a grin, “we didn’t bring anything, huh?”
You straighten up. Toss the rag onto the bench.
“Nothing?”
Karina leans back. “Nothing that folds.”
Then: “Nothing you’d accept, probably.”
Winter’s eyes sparkle.
“Unless you take... alternative payments.”
You meet her gaze. Then Karina’s. Neither girl breaks eye contact. Neither girl looks sorry. The way they say it, it’s not an apology — it’s a proposal.
You scoff, half-laughing.
“So let me get this straight…”
You step closer. Not enough to crowd them — just enough to feel the heat radiating off Winter’s bare midriff.
“…You roll into my shop, broken down, no money, dressed like a fucking dream…”
Your eyes drag down Winter’s body. Up to Karina’s soaked top.
“…and now you want me to fix your bike… for what? A thank you?”
Winter’s lip catches between her teeth. Karina doesn’t blink.
“We’ll make it worth your time.”
You raise an eyebrow.
Winter steps forward, finally closing the space. Her bottle dangles from her fingers now, nearly empty. She lifts it slightly, trails the tip along your chest.
“We’re really… good at showing gratitude.”
Karina stands, stretching slow. Her top shifts. Her tits shift with it. She walks until she’s behind you, close enough for her breath to brush your neck.
“And you…” she murmurs, “look like someone who’s been alone out here for far too long.”
You grin, hands falling to your belt automatically.
“Well then…” You look between them. “…you’d better pay in full.”
There’s a beat. A silence so thick it feels like it wants to be broken.
Karina’s still behind you, body heat pressing faint against your back. Winter’s standing in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your belt buckle now, as if testing whether you’ll stop her — you won’t.
Then Winter tilts her head, glancing around the dusty garage.
“So…” she purrs, finger teasing your waistband, “…you got somewhere a little more…”
She leans in, whispers the last part just inches from your mouth—
“…fitting of the occasion?”
You open your mouth to answer, but you never get the chance.
Karina’s lips find your neck. Soft. Wet. Deliberate.
And at the same time— Winter kisses you. Hard.
Tongue before teeth. Her hand fists your shirt, dragging you down just enough to devour your mouth like she’s waited all damn day. Her kiss is messy, eager, soaked with teasing confidence. She kisses like she fucks — demanding.
Karina doesn’t wait. She steps around you, sliding her hand into your hair, and joins in.
It’s seamless. Natural. Like they’ve done this before. Like you were the only one who didn’t know the scene had already started.
Karina’s lips crash into the side of yours, tangling with Winter’s, all three of you pressed together now. Tongues clash, teeth graze, moans melt into each other.
Hands roam. Fur slides off. Leather creaks.
You taste sweetness on Winter’s tongue. Cold water on Karina’s lips.
Their bodies press into yours — Winter’s bare midriff grinding against your abs, Karina’s soaked chest flattening against your shoulder as her breath hitches into your mouth.
You groan into the kiss — low, real.
The tools. The bike. The desert. All of it vanishes.
You’re just a man. Caught between two former idols dressed like sex itself. And all three of you know — you’re not going to stop.
Karina pulls back first, lips flushed and swollen, breath warm on your cheek.
“So?” she says again, voice husky, glancing toward the back of your shop.
“Where’s the fucking bed?”
-
The door slams shut behind you.
Your boots hit the floor with a low thud. The silence inside your backroom is thick — save for the hum of a rattling fan, the whir of heat-stung electricity, and three breaths that sound nothing short of needy.
You drop onto the edge of the bed — wide, sun-drenched, the sheets still warm from the last time you lay there alone. Not today.
Winter’s already pulling off her boots. Karina’s hands are on the zipper of her top. You don’t speak. You just lean back on your elbows, spreading your legs slightly. Watching.
Winter steps forward first.
She peels the fur from her shoulders with a single shrug, letting it fall behind her like a dropped secret. Her skin is flushed from the sun, glistening — sweat tracing the delicate dip between her ribs. She pulls her crop top over her head, and when it lifts, her petite, tight frame is revealed in full.
She’s flat-stomached, hips narrow, no bra. Her breasts are small, firm, tipped with nipples already perked from the heat and anticipation. Her fingers hook into the waistband of those sinful little shorts. She eases them down slowly, letting the tight fabric resist — then give.
And beneath? Nothing. Clean-shaven. Slick with heat.
The kind of body that doesn’t need to be loud to be obscene. The kind that makes you grip the sheets for control.
She kicks the shorts aside and stands there — nude, bare feet on concrete, sweat dripping between her thighs, waiting for your reaction like it’s part of her job.
But you can’t speak yet. Because Karina is moving.
Karina unzips her vest slow.
She’s all curve and confidence — hips that roll with every step, breasts too big for modesty, and a stare that makes you feel like you’re the one being undressed.
When the zipper parts, her chest spills forward — heavy, glistening, freckled with sweat. Her nipples are thick, flushed, begging for lips. Her tits bounce softly as she shrugs the vest off, letting it slide down her arms with lazy grace.
No bra. No rush.
She undoes her shorts and lets them fall. No panties. Just a thick, trimmed strip of dark hair above her slit — a little triangle, tasteful but raw. Something that says: real woman. Untouched by shame.
Winter’s clean. Minimal. Drenched. Karina’s plush. Voluptuous. Dripping. Both naked. Both sweaty. Both staring at you now.
You take in every inch. Winter’s thighs glistening. Karina’s breasts rising with her breath. The heat. The scent. The pure fucking weight of this moment.
And then Winter speaks — soft, smug.
“Well?”
She steps closer, fingers grazing your knee.
“We’ve stripped. Your turn, mechanic.”
You don’t move. You just sit there, bare-chested, boots still on, jeans still clinging to your thighs — but ready. Your cock’s already stiffening beneath the denim, throbbing, straining. It won’t be subtle. You know that. And you know they’re about to find out.
Karina kneels on the bed behind you first, lips brushing your neck, her tits pressing hot against your shoulders as she whispers:
“Let us.”
And Winter is already crouching between your legs, palms dragging up your thighs, knuckles grazing the shape of your cock through the fabric. Her tongue peeks out over her bottom lip.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, “I can feel it pulsing.”
Your shirt goes first. Karina peels it off with slow reverence, her fingertips dragging along your abs as she lifts it over your head. She pauses only to kiss your spine — soft, wet — before tossing it to the floor. Winter pops the button on your jeans, tugging the zipper down with agonizing slowness. The head of your cock jumps under the fabric.
She grins.
“He’s ready.”
They slide the jeans down together — Karina from behind, Winter tugging from the front, both hands gliding along your thighs as the denim peels away.
And then — Your cock springs free.
Heavy. Thick. Leaking.
It slaps against Winter’s cheek with a wet, meaty smack. The contact echoes in the tiny room. She jerks back slightly — eyes wide, mouth parting.
Karina looks over your shoulder.
They both go silent.
Winter’s hand flies up to catch it — fingers wrapping around the base instinctively. She exhales — sharp, shaky — and looks up at you like she just saw the devil.
“Holy fuck,” she whispers. Your cock throbs in her grip. She strokes once, slow. Her eyes glaze. “It’s so… heavy.”
Karina slides around, settling beside her now, one hand resting on your thigh. Her voice is low, reverent.
She leans in and inhales. Moans.
“It smells like you haven’t cum in days.”
Winter brings her other hand up to your shaft, lifting it slightly, thumbing under the head, watching it twitch.
“It’s hot.” She drags her palm along the length. “Veiny. Fucking beautiful.”
Karina moves closer — her tits pressing against your side again, sweat beading along her cleavage.
“It’s perfect,” she murmurs. Then, right into your ear. “And we haven’t even tasted it yet.”
You sit there, cock pulsing in their hands, watching two ex-idols — naked, dripping — in awe of your dick like it’s something holy.
You smirk.
“You sure you can handle it?”
Winter kisses the tip once, smearing precum across her lips.
“You’re about to find out.”
Karina moves first.
She lowers herself slowly between your spread legs, her tits brushing your thighs as she slides into position. Her hair sticks to her flushed skin, sweat glistening along her collarbones, but her eyes never leave your cock.
Winter shifts beside her — the contrast striking. Where Karina’s all plush curves and dripping confidence, Winter’s tight, lithe, buzzing with restrained hunger. Her lips are already parted, tongue flicking against the air like she can taste your precum without even touching it.
Karina licks the underside of your cock first — one long, slow stripe from base to tip. Her tongue is warm, wide, practiced. She moans quietly as she finishes the stroke, savoring your taste like she’s just taken the first bite of something forbidden.
Winter’s mouth wraps around your head. No warning. No hesitation.
Just a wet, obscene suck — her lips sealing tight, tongue swirling the sensitive ridge. She makes a sound the moment you hit the roof of her mouth, something between a whimper and a moan, eyes fluttering shut like your cock soothes her.
You exhale. Hard.
Karina kisses the base. Then your balls. Then lower. Her tongue is everywhere, warm and wet, tracing your veins like a roadmap. She nuzzles against you, moaning as her cheek brushes your shaft, her tits squished between your thighs now as she licks underneath while Winter sinks deeper.
Winter bobs her head slowly, her lips stretching tight, jaw trembling as more of your cock fills her mouth. Spit leaks out the corners of her lips, dribbling down your length — onto Karina’s tongue.
Karina moans at the mess. She licks it up. Keeps eye contact.
Winter gags slightly as your cock taps the back of her throat, but she doesn’t pull back — she pushes deeper, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as her fingers grip your thighs tight for leverage.
You groan, hands fisting in the sheets.
They’re working together. Like they’ve done this before. Like they planned it.
Karina sucks one of your balls into her mouth, tongue swirling, moaning at the taste. Winter pulls back slowly, your cock drenched in spit, a string trailing from her lips to your tip.
“Fuck,” she pants, stroking you twice, eyes wide. “It’s even bigger in my throat.”
Karina wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then leans forward.
“Let me see what it tastes like with her spit on it.”
She kisses the tip, licking up the remaining drool, and then pushes you past her lips — slow, tight, warm.
Winter licks her lips beside her, moaning as she watches Karina’s lips stretch wide, your cock vanishing between those heavy tits.
Two idols. One cock. One shared hunger. You don’t move. You just let them worship.
What starts clean, controlled, shared, sacred. Now becomes fucking filthy.
Winter’s mouth dives back onto your cock, cheeks hollowing out as she bobs faster, deeper, spit leaking freely around the seal of her lips. Her tongue flattens underneath your shaft, pressing hard as she sucks like you’re feeding her oxygen. She moans into it — low and guttural — her throat tightening every time your tip taps the back.
Karina’s not waiting anymore.
She’s licking everything Winter can’t reach. Tongue dragging along your spit-slicked base, balls, even your thighs — tasting the mess, making the mess. Her hair clings to her sweat-damp face, and her tits hang heavy beneath her, swaying with every breath. Her moans grow louder — not for show, but because she wants this.
Winter gags. Once. Then again. She doesn’t stop.
Your cock is soaked now. Shiny. Veiny. Twitching.
Drool runs down your shaft in strings, dripping off your balls and pooling at the base. The entire lower half of your body is wet — with their spit, their need.
Karina pushes Winter’s head lower. Winter grunts, eyes squeezing shut as your cock buries in her throat.
Karina kisses your shaft right beside her lips. Then your balls. Then Winter’s cheek.
You groan — loudly.
“Fuck—just like that…”
Winter pulls off with a gasp, saliva connecting her lips to your cock in thick strands. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then laughs.
“God, you taste so good it’s making me stupid.”
Karina smiles, takes over without a word — and spits on your cock before she swallows it halfway. No buildup. Just greed.
The room echoes with wet, disgusting sounds — gagging, moaning, kissing, slurping — like a symphony of ruin. You can barely see your own cock anymore through the shine of spit and lips.
Karina sucks you off deep, slowly twisting her mouth as her hand jerks the base.
Winter licks your balls again, kissing them, whispering into your skin:
“Give it to us… come on…”
They're not in control anymore. Not with the way they’re fighting for your cock now. Not with the way Winter’s grinding her bare pussy into the bed between your legs. Not with Karina drooling as your head pops out of her mouth, lips glossy, tits heaving, a string of spit connecting her chin to your shaft.
You reach for both of them — one hand on the back of each head. Stroking their heads, a nod to how well they're sucking you off.
You can’t take it anymore. All that spit. All that heat. All that fucking begging.
You reach down, one hand fisting into Winter’s hair, the other gripping Karina’s soaked strands. You pull them both back from your cock — not roughly, but with purpose. Their mouths are open, their faces glazed with arousal and saliva. Lips swollen. Breathing uneven.
“Up,” you growl, voice rough and low.
They obey.
You guide them up onto the bed — Karina first, then Winter, both crawling, sweaty and naked, moving like they’re hypnotized. Like the taste of your cock only made them hungrier.
Karina settles back against the headboard, legs parted slightly, tits rising with every shaky breath. Her chest is soaked — water, sweat, spit — it doesn’t matter. Her nipples are hard, begging to be sucked. Her trimmed pussy glistens in the half-light, lips swollen, glistening with heat.
Winter kneels beside her, smaller, tighter, eyes half-lidded as she looks at you like she needs to be used. Her thighs are sticky with sweat. Her pussy’s bare, soft folds flushed pink and twitching with every breath. A single bead of slick drips down as she spreads her knees wider — an invitation.
You crawl between them. Predator mode.
You don’t ask. You just take.
You go to Winter first.
Push her back gently, her body arching for you. You lower your mouth, slow, your breath hot on her inner thighs. She shivers — not from cold, but from tension, from the hunger finally crashing over the edge.
Your tongue flicks against her folds — one quick, precise stroke.
She moans, high and breathy. “F-fuck—”
Then you feast.
You dive in, dragging your tongue through her pussy like it’s your first drink after days in the desert. Her taste is clean, sweet, but laced with heat and sweat and raw want. You flatten your tongue against her clit, then suck, slow and deep. Her hips jerk. Her fingers tangle in your hair.
She whimpers, rolls her hips against your face, her thighs shaking already — and you don’t stop. You devour her.
Karina watches. Breathing harder. Hand slipping between her own thighs now, her fingers spreading herself open for you as you wreck Winter’s cunt.
“God, the way you’re eating her…” she moans, “…you’re fucking addicted.”
You are.
Winter’s thighs clamp against your ears. She squirms, gasping your name, eyes wide, lips trembling. You only stop when her hips start jerking too much to ride — and even then, you press a final kiss to her clit and grin.
Then you crawl toward Karina. She’s waiting.
Her thighs are parted. Her hand is already working slow circles over her clit. Her tits are heavy and slick, rising with every breath. Her eyes lock with yours.
“Come on,” she whispers, “taste a real fucking woman.”
You don’t hesitate. You bury your face in her pussy like it’s your mission. Her moan hits instantly — deep, rich, from her gut. She smells like sex. Tastes like want. A little sweat. A little perfume. And pure fucking heat.
Her bush is soft, trimmed just enough to feel natural. Your tongue pushes past her folds, lapping up everything she gives you. Your nose presses into her mound, and you groan into her — so deep her thighs shiver around your ears.
Winter watches this time. “That’s it, Karina… let him ruin you…”
Karina arches her back, shoves your face in deeper. “Eat it. Fucking eat it.”
You moan into her pussy, shaking your head, slapping your tongue over her clit like you’re starving — and the sound of your mouth on her is obscene.
You’re not careful. You’re not polite. You feast like you deserve this. Because you do.
She’s lounging back on the bed, legs slightly parted, still catching her breath from how deep you had just been, her huge tits rising and falling like waves of heat.
You crawl toward her, eyes locked on the massive, sweat-drenched mounds of flesh that bounce slightly with every shift of the mattress. Her top had been torn away earlier, and now the full view of her breasts — round, heavy, flushed pink at the tips — sits before you like a sacred offering.
“Fuck… these tits, Karina,” you mutter, voice low, hoarse with need, “they were made to be worshipped. Fucking pillows of pure lust.”
She smirks, chest heaving. “Then get to it, director. Make the scene worth watching.”
You don’t waste a second.
Your hands cradle the weight of her breasts — warm, soft, full, heavy enough to overflow in your palms. You squeeze them slowly, letting your fingers sink into the pliant flesh as she gasps, arching slightly, offering more. You lower your head and drag your tongue along the bottom curve, up to her nipple, flicking it with slow, teasing laps.
“Fuck—” she hisses through her teeth, “do it rougher. You know I love it.”
You obey. You latch on. Your lips wrap around her nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking wildly now, and her body jolts beneath you. Your spit starts to gloss the curves, and soon your mouth is moving between both tits — slurping, kissing, nipping. You bury your face between them, groaning into her cleavage, your hands still squeezing, kneading, worshipping like she’s your goddess.
And maybe she is. Right now, both of them are.
You glance to the side, and Winter is watching. Cheeks flushed. Mouth parted. Waiting.
You crawl over to her, slower this time. She’s lying back, legs pulled up, arms behind her head like she’s waiting to be tasted again. Her chest is smaller than Karina’s — but just as perfect. Perky. Tight. Sensitive as hell.
You hover over her, lips just above the swell of her left breast.
“You want your turn, baby?” you whisper, breath brushing her skin.
She nods, biting her lip. “Been wanting your mouth on me all day.”
You lower yourself and suck her nipple in one slow motion, pulling it deep into your mouth. She gasps. Your tongue circles, traces the delicate pink tip, then drags downward along her taut skin, leaving a wet trail of spit down to her ribs.
She moans louder. You switch to the other breast, grazing it with your teeth this time before sucking gently. Your hand slides up to cup her chest, pressing the soft weight against your palm as your lips move with purpose — slow, wet kisses, teasing, praising, taking your time.
Karina watches, stroking her inner thigh, whispering filth with a smirk.
“You like that don’t you? His mouth on your perky little tits, nibbling like its candy?”
“God — fuck! Yes!”
Your cock is beyond hard now — it’s furious, angry with need. Slick from their mouths, red with lust, twitching so hard the tip jerks in the air like it’s got a heartbeat of its own. You’re panting, chest glistening, veins popping, and every inch of you screams for the ruin of Karina’s body.
You crawl behind her.
“On your stomach,” you rasp.
Karina turns her head with a smirk, already moving. “Mmm… yes, sir. Use me.”
She flips over slowly, deliberately — her hips rolling like syrup, spine arching so her tits sway heavy and loose before she plants herself down, ass up, knees wide, pussy spread and glistening. The curve of her back is carved like a sculpture, sweat dripping along her spine, sliding down her crack. Her lips are swollen, glistening, pulsing.
“Holy fuck,” you groan, voice deep and hungry. “Look at that wet fucking hole. You’re begging for cock, aren’t you?”
“Been begging since I walked in,” Karina huffs, pushing back slightly, letting her pussy kiss the underside of your shaft. “You gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna talk about it, daddy?”
You slap her ass — hard — and she jerks, a moan spilling from her mouth.
Winter moans beside you, her fingers between her legs again, watching with lust-drowned eyes. “Fuck, fuck… she’s dripping down her thighs. She wants that cum. Stuff her.”
You grip Karina’s hips, line your cock up with her entrance, and just rest the head there — thick, flushed, leaking — smearing her folds.
She shudders. “Don’t tease. Put that big fucking cock in me now. Fuck me stupid.”
You press in.
Hot. Wet. Tight. A perfect fucking grip. Her cunt stretches open with resistance — then sucks you in greedily. Inch by inch, her walls cling, swallowing your cock like she doesn’t want to give it back.
Her back arches more. Her pussy flutters around you.
You bury all the way in. Balls slapping against her soaked clit. The room fills with a loud, filthy squelch.
“Oh my god… it’s all in. It’s all fucking in.”
Winter bites her lip, watching. “Shit… she’s gripping you like she wants to milk your cock dry.”
You lean forward, growl in Karina’s ear. “This pussy’s gonna remember me. You hear me? I’m gonna fuck you so deep your brain’s gonna leak out your pussy.”
“Yes—yes—fuck me dumb, please, just fucking ruin me—”
You pull back. Then slam forward. The sound is animalistic — slap, slap, slap — as your hips collide with her soaked, bouncing ass.
“Take it. Take that fat fucking cock, you cum-hungry bitch.”
Karina moans into the mattress. Loud. Sloppy. Worshipful.
Winter rubs herself furiously, watching your cock disappear into Karina again and again. “Breed her. You hear me? Fill her up till she’s leaking. I wanna watch your cum pour out of her ruined cunt.”
You fuck her harder. But with the same slow, patient pace.
“You want that? Huh? Want me to pump you full, fuck it so deep it shoots up into your belly?”
“Yes! Yes, please! Fuck, I want your cum!” Karina sobs, her legs trembling.
Your cock pistons in and out, coated in slick, Karina’s walls fluttering around you like she’s already on the edge.
You grope her heavy tits, pull her back by the throat, spit in her mouth.
“Good girl. Fucking perfect slut.”
Winter kneels beside you now, fingers soaked, eyes wild. “Can I cum while you fuck her? Please, let me. Watching you split her open is making me gush.”
“Get on my face next. Gonna make both of you cum. One with my cock, one with my mouth. You greedy fucktoys ready for that?”
“Yes, please—please, please, I’m gonna cum—” Karina chokes, her voice lost in moans.
Karina moans into the sheets, her hips rocking back into your slow, deep thrusts, her pussy choking your cock like it’s never letting you go. Every time you bottom out, she gasps, back arching, her cunt dripping so much you can feel it sliding down your balls.
“F-fuck… daddy… your cock’s so deep—fucking my womb—fuck, fuck—!”
She’s babbling. Drenched. You can feel her pussy flutter around you with every thrust, clenching like it’s begging to be ruined.
Then— Movement. Above you.
Winter.
Climbing over your face, thighs already slick, pussy practically steaming as she straddles you. Her scent slams into you like heat — sharp, needy, addictive. She looks down at you with a smirk, eyes half-lidded, flushed and feral.
“Eat me till I scream. Please” she whispers, cunt hovering just above your mouth. “Fucking mean it.”
You just open your mouth. And she drops.
Her bare, dripping cunt mashes down onto your face, and she moans. Loud. Desperate. Instantly grinding, her pussy smearing itself across your tongue, wet enough to flood your mouth.
“Ohhh fuck yes—yes, that’s it—eat it, you fucking perv—suck my pussy—don’t fucking stop—”
You devour her. Tongue deep in her slit, lips wrapped around her clit. Your nose buried in her wetness, chin soaked. Every lick makes her twitch. Every suck makes her whimper.
Below, Karina gasps when your hips slam harder — deeper — your rhythm shifting as your face gets fucked. She glances back, hair wild, sweat dripping, watching Winter ride your mouth with abandon.
“Fuck… fuck… are you really getting your face sat on while your cock’s still stretching me open?” she breathes. “God, you’re such a slut for us…”
Winter laughs breathlessly, grinding her hips. “He loves it. He lives for it. Look at him — fucking choking on my pussy while he pumps your tight little cunt full…”
“Feels like he’s gonna cum,” Karina moans, cunt clenching again. “I can feel him twitching inside…”
Winter leans forward, pressing down harder, her clit rubbing your nose raw. “Don’t you fucking dare cum yet,” she growls, gasping through her teeth. “You hold it. You hold it until my pussy explodes on your face.”
Karina throws her head back. “God—yes—keep him edged. Make him earn that load. Make him beg to breed us—”
You moan into Winter’s cunt — tongue swirling, sucking, desperate. You’re drowning in pussy. Your cock’s buried. Your mouth’s buried. You’re nothing but their toy now — their fuckmachine.
Winter’s moans hit a fever pitch.
“FUCK—yes—tongue my hole—you filthy little freak, make me cum all over that pretty face—”
Karina’s voice is a trembling gasp. “Breed me—fuck me full while you tongue her. Fucking knock me up—make me drip—”
And you? You’re gone. Devouring cunt. Plowing cunt. Moaning like a beast.
Because their holes were made to ruin you. And you were made to be ruined.
Winter is riding your face like it’s her only salvation — her pussy slick and twitching against your tongue, thighs quivering around your head, her moans getting higher.
Karina’s moaning beneath you, your cock still deep inside her, slow strokes keeping her wide open, stretched and stuffed full while your mouth ruins the girl above her.
And then it happens—
Their hands find each other. Winter leans forward. Karina tilts her head. Their lips meet. Wet. Open. Desperate.
Their kiss is messy — spit-slick and tongue-heavy. You hear it even beneath Winter’s moans, the slurping of two girls making out while one rides your tongue and the other takes your cock. Karina's fingers slip into Winter’s hair, tugging. Winter whimpers into her mouth, grinding harder into your face.
“He’s so fucking good with his mouth,” Karina breathes into Winter’s lips. “Feel that tongue? He’s not even using his fingers yet.”
“I c-can’t…” Winter stutters, her breath shaking. “He’s gonna make me—”
You pull her hips down harder. Suck her clit into your mouth. Flatten your tongue and start flicking—fast, precise, cruel.
Winter screams.
“FUCK—right there, yes—oh my fucking god—”
Her thighs clamp tight around your head. You don’t let up. You want her to break. You want to own her orgasm.
Karina’s still kissing her, whispering into her gasps now:
“Come on, baby. Give it to him.”
“Be a good girl and soak his fucking face.”
“He’s hungry. Can’t you feel it?”
You moan into Winter’s cunt in response — and she shakes.
“He’s… he’s eating me like he needs it—fuck, fuck—don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”
Your tongue swirls. Your lips close in. You suck. Then flick again — relentless, expert, merciless.
And you growl against her clit:
“Come for me.”
“Messy little idol cunt on my face. Now.”
That’s all it takes. Winter explodes.
Her body convulses above you, thighs trembling violently, pussy grinding into your mouth as her orgasm hits hard. She cries out, her voice cracking mid-moan, hands gripping Karina’s hair as she sobs out her climax into her best friend’s mouth.
“YES—YES—I’m fucking cumming—oh my god—”
You drink it all in. Every drop. Every twitch. Every broken whimper.
Karina kisses her through it, moaning softly as she strokes her shaking body.
You pull back — face soaked, chin dripping. You smirk. You speak.
“One down.”
You slam your cock back into Karina.
“Who's next?”
Karina smirks.
“Sweet of you to treat her so well…” she purrs, voice low and teasing, breathless from being edged and ignored. She spreads her legs wider under you, grinding her slick pussy up your shaft, milking you with every subtle twitch. “…but I haven’t fucking cum yet.”
You look down at her. Her body’s glowing — tits heaving, nipples stiff and flushed, her cunt clinging to your cock like it’s starving. The smirk on her lips is cocky, but her eyes? Her eyes are begging.
You lean in close — lips brushing hers, voice deep and thick with lust. “Then let’s fix that.”
Your hands grip her thighs. Hard. Possessive. You push them back — folding her completely — her knees pinned against her shoulders, ankles hooked by your hands, her drenched pussy spread wide around your shaft. Everything exposed. Everything yours.
A full mating press. Breeding position. No escape.
“F-fuck—!” she gasps, voice pitchy as the new angle buries you deeper than before.
You don’t move yet. You just stay there — cock fully stuffed inside her, throbbing. Her walls clamp around you in pulses. She’s twitching already. Her tits jiggle with every micro-movement, nipples so hard they ache.
Then— Winter appears beside you, her lips wet, her cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with lust. She smirks.
“Let me help,” she whispers.
One hand slides between Karina’s thighs — her fingers slick, confident — and finds her clit instantly.
Karina screams. A high, cracked moan that rips from her throat.
You start to thrust. Slow. Deep. Deliberate. Each stroke fucks her deeper than she’s ever taken. Your pelvis grinds into Winter’s fingers on every stroke, the double stimulation making Karina’s legs shake in your grip.
“F-fuck—fuck—GOD—don’t stop—oh my god, don’t fucking stop—”
Winter leans in, kisses her neck. “Feel that?” she purrs. “You’re being used, baby. Fucked so deep you’re drooling.”
Her other hand grabs a tit, squeezing it tight, rubbing her thumb over Karina’s hard nipple. You growl into Karina’s ear, panting. “You thought I forgot this tight little slutty cunt?”
Thrust — deep, hard. “You thought I wasn’t gonna wreck you in front of her?”
Thrust — sharper, louder. “You’re gonna fucking cum on this cock like the good cumdrunk bitch you are.”
Karina’s moans get louder, messier — her voice catching on every word.
“His cock’s in my stomach—fuck—I can’t—I can’t take it—Winter—he’s splitting me open—oh my fucking god—”
Winter’s fingers work faster. She’s rubbing that clit in tight little circles now, her breath hot against Karina’s ear.
“Do it, slut,” she whispers. “Show me how you cum when he breaks you.”
You snarl. “Cream on this cock. Now. Let her watch you fall apart.”
Karina screams. Her eyes roll back. Her body jerks, trembles — then collapses into a full-body orgasm.
Her pussy milks your cock like it’s trying to suck the cum straight out, squeezing in violent waves. Her moans become cries, then sobs, her mind fucking shattered.
“I’m—cumming—I’m CUMMING—FUCK—it’s too much—YES—YES—YES—!”
Winter doesn’t stop. You don’t stop. You pound her through it.
Your cock’s swelling, balls tightening, every thrust a promise of cum. Karina’s pussy is spasming around you like it needs to be filled. She’s chanting your name. Winter’s whispering filth in her ear.
Karina is trembling beneath you — legs folded, body wrecked, pussy still convulsing in messy, twitching aftershocks. Her orgasm’s not over. Not really. It’s still crawling up her spine in pulses, flickering like a fire that refuses to die. Her chest is soaked with sweat — dripping between her tits, running down her stomach in slow, sticky trails that glisten under the lights.
You’re still inside her. Still balls-deep. Cock swollen. So hard it hurts. So close you’re shaking.
Winter’s beside her now, licking her fingers — the same ones she used to rub Karina’s clit raw — and watching you with glazed eyes, lips parted, skin flushed.
“You gonna dump that load in her?” she breathes, voice sultry, teasing, cruel. “Gonna cum so deep the whole crew hears it dripping out of her?”
She leans closer. Her tongue flicks the corner of her mouth.
“Let them watch you fucking breed her. Let them see it all.”
You growl — teeth gritted, every muscle tense.
“Yeah.”
Karina hears it. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and ruined. Her lips are slack, trembling, her body begging for it.
“Do it,” she whispers. “Fucking fill me. Stuff this pussy full of your cum.”
You slam in once. Twice. A third time — and stay there. Deep. Pressed to the hilt.
And then you explode. Hot. Thick. Endless.
Your cock throbs violently as it pumps load after filthy load into her stretched pussy — ropes of cum spilling deep, pressing against her womb, overflowing with heat and need.
Karina gasps. Her whole body arches off the bed.
“Ohhh fuck—yes—yes—fill me up—give me all of it—fuck—!”
Her cunt clamps around you — like it’s trying to suck out every last drop. The pressure is so intense it pushes cum back out — leaking around your cock, pouring down her ass in white, sloppy rivulets.
Winter moans.
“Jesus—look at that fucking load. That’s not a creampie. That’s a fucking dump truck. That’s illegal in five countries.”
She crawls between Karina’s legs, eyes wide, staring at the mess.
“It’s gushing out of her…” she whispers.
You don’t move. You just stay there. Still pulsing inside her. Still leaking.
The camera’s still rolling. Catching everything. Every spasm of your cock. Every droplet sliding down her thighs. Every twitch of her ruined, cumstuffed pussy.
Karina’s breathing in shudders, moaning under her breath.
“God… I’m so full… I can feel it dripping inside me…”
Winter kisses her cheek softly, then drags two fingers through the sloppy flood leaking out. She brings them to her mouth. Sucks them clean.
“Mmm. You taste like him now,” she murmurs, licking her fingers with slow, pornographic delight. “They’re gonna replay this. Loop it. Slow-mo it. Stroke to it for years.”
She dips back down, gathering another scoop of cum, eyes locked on yours as she smears it across Karina’s pussy lips.
“You sure you’re done?”
You grin. Cock still inside. Still hard.
You’re not done. Not until Winter gets her turn. Not until both of them are leaking side by side. Not until the whole set reeks of sweat and sex and you. Because this isn’t a scene. This is a legacy. You just made art.
You finally pull out.
Slow. Heavy. Your cock drags out of Karina’s stretched, ruined pussy with a deep, wet squelch — her hole clinging to you until the very end. One last twitch in your shaft sends another fat bead of cum splattering across her inner thigh. The camera follows it all, locked in: the gaping hole, the slick mess, the raw aftermath of your load buried deep.
Winter gasps beside you, eyes locked on the swollen, red, open slit. “Oh my god…” she whispers. “You fucking wrecked her.”
Karina’s chest is rising fast, tits slick and jiggling with every tiny tremor that runs through her thighs. Her hole is twitching. Her body’s buzzing. Her mind’s still shattered.
And then — without a word — She spreads her legs wider. Bends one knee. And pushes. You watch. Winter watches. The camera watches.
Her pussy flutters once— Then the flood begins.
A thick, hot, milky stream of cum gushes out of her used hole. It slides between her folds, over her slit, past her stretched rim, leaking in slow, heavy pulses. Rope after rope — your load — pouring from her pussy like she’s milking it out for the audience.
Karina gasps. “Ohhh fuck…” she moans, eyes fluttering. “There’s so much in me… it just keeps coming…”
She looks directly at the camera — flushed, panting — and smiles.
“He bred me so deep it’s still pouring out…”
Another thick drip slides over her twitching clit. A string clings to her folds like webbing. One droplet slides down her crack and over her asshole, catching the studio lights perfectly as it glistens and drips.
Winter’s hand is between her thighs now — two fingers teasing her pussy as she watches with wide, hungry eyes.
“That’s… that’s fucking obscene,” she breathes. “It’s dripping out like her pussy’s a cum faucet…”
You kneel beside them — cock still rock-hard, glazed in slick, painted in white — watching the mess you left leak out of Karina like you designed it to happen. She groans softly as another squirt pushes out, pussy lips parting to let another sloppy flood pour across her ass.
Winter lets out a breathless laugh. “You didn’t just fuck her… you bred her on camera. You dumped enough in her for three goddamn scenes.”
“Can’t fucking help it when she looks this hot.”
Karina looks down between her legs, the whole mess still spilling. Then she tilts her head back. Eyes into the lens. And says, with a smirk. “Make sure they see all of it.”
She curls her fingers around her lips and spreads herself open. Her gaping pussy yawns wide — cum-stained, twitching, glistening like a used toy. Another heavy drip falls.
The camera will see all of it. Every drop. Every twitch. Every creamy inch of what you did to her.
Because this isn’t just a fuck. It’s a statement. And the message is clear: Her idol pussy was bred for real.
Karina’s still spread out beside you — flushed and fucked dumb, her pussy leaking your load in lazy, creamy drips. Her thighs twitch every now and then, little aftershocks rippling through her. One hand traces slow, messy circles through the cum staining her slit. Her other hand? Still between her tits, massaging lazily as her body glows with afterglow.
But Winter? Winter’s burning.
She’s at the edge of the bed, legs open, fingers pressed to her soaked, untouched pussy — watching your cock like it’s the only goddamn thing that exists. Her chest rises in short, needy gasps. Her clit’s swollen, her folds glistening, her juices smeared across her thighs. You can see the way her asshole flutters every time your shaft throbs.
You crawl toward her — cock heavy, still wet, still dripping Karina’s slick and your cum. Her eyes never leave it. You cup her jaw. Tilt her chin. Make her look at you.
“Your turn.” Her lips part — a shaky breath escapes. “Y-Yeah…?”
You lean in close. Your voice drops, deep and dangerous, breath hot against her ear.
“You want it in that tight little pussy…” Your hand slides down — two fingers teasing her clit, tracing over her soaked entrance. Her thighs jerk. She gasps. “…or do you want to feel me in your ass?”
She whimpers — a sharp, desperate sound. Her whole body clenches.
You pull back, locking eyes.
“Say it.” Your cock presses against her lower belly — the weight of it unmistakable. “Pussy or ass, Winter. Where do you want this cock?”
You slap your shaft against her navel — a wet, heavy smack — just so she feels how deep it's going to go.
Karina watches through half-lidded eyes, her fingers spreading her messy pussy open lazily as she smirks.
“Pick wisely,” she murmurs. “He doesn’t pull punches.”
Winter shudders. Then she smiles. Wicked. Knowing. Filthy.
“I want…” She leans in close. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t stutter. “My ass.”
The words hit like a detonation. Her voice breathy, trembling, sultry.
“You wanna feel tight?” she purrs. “I want you to fight your way in. I want you to hurt me with it.”
Your cock twitches violently — leaking from the tip. Karina lets out a breathy moan, fingers circling her clit again.
“She’s fucking filthy,” she gasps. “Make sure the camera gets her little hole when it starts opening for you…”
Winter shifts onto her knees. Proud. Slow. On display.
She turns away — small, toned frame folding into a perfect arch. Ass up, back dipped, legs spread.
Then she reaches back. Both hands grab her cheeks and spread.
Deliberately. Slowly. Seductively. Her asshole’s tight. Pink. Bare. Clean. Clenching around nothing. She looks over her shoulder — eyes half-lidded, lips parted.
“You sure you don’t want the pussy?” she teases.
You don’t speak. You grab her hips. Spit on your cock — thick, heavy — and let it drip onto her rim.
Then you rub it in. Slow circles. Letting your tip smear it across her entrance. Letting her feel it. She gasps, hole twitching.
“F-fuck… it’s so big… you’re not gonna fit…”
You line up. Push just the tip. Her hole resists — clenched tight — then begins to stretch, trembling as you press harder. Winter moans — her voice high, breathy.
“Let them see it…” she whimpers. “Let the whole world watch you wreck my ass…”
You press in deeper. Her asshole yields. Slow. Painful. Beautiful.
The head pops inside. She screams into the sheets.
“GOD—f-fuck—he’s splitting me open—!”
Karina is panting now, fingering herself furiously as she stares at the scene.
“Look at her…” she moans. “That’s not an ass — that’s a fucking vice grip. He’s not even halfway in…”
You groan — long, guttural — as your cock sinks another inch into Winter’s unbearably tight hole.
She sobs. Moans. Pushes back.
“More… give me more, daddy… rip my fucking hole open…”
And you give it to her.
Because that’s what she begged for. That’s what the camera’s rolling for. That’s what every viewer’s gonna replay on mute, slow, frame-by-frame.
Winter’s getting every fucking inch. And she’s going to thank you for it.
You’re halfway in.
Winter’s asshole is clamping down like a fucking vice — sucking your cock in inch by inch, spasming with heat and resistance, like her body can’t decide whether to fight you or beg for more. She’s panting hard, back arched deep, arms trembling as she fists the sheets beneath her.
“F-fuck… you’re splitting me open… I can feel every vein—”
You growl and grip her hips, your thumbs spreading her ass wide so the camera catches it all — the stretch, the slick, the abuse. Your cock shoves forward with brutal intent, pushing past that tight, twitching resistance until you feel her hole pop open — and then you bottom out.
Winter screams.
“YES—yes—fuck—all the way—I can feel it inside my guts—!”
But you’re not the only one moving now. The bed shifts. Warm fingers drag across your back. Soft, teasing. Karina.
She slides in beside Winter, her flushed, cum-drenched body curling close, her breath hot on Winter’s neck. Her hand slips lower — across Winter’s inner thigh, slow and deliberate — until it slides between her legs.
“Don’t forget this sweet little hole,” Karina whispers. Her fingers press to Winter’s soaked slit. “She squirted on your face, but this pussy’s still fucking needy…”
Winter lets out a sobbing moan.
“Y-yes—please—fill me both ways—wreck me—fuck—please—”
Karina plunges in. Two fingers, knuckles-deep. Instantly curling into that sensitive spot and grinding.
And Winter breaks.
Your cock is stuffed in her ass. Karina’s fingers are buried in her cunt. And Winter’s trapped between you — shaking, crying out, melting.
You pull back.
Thrust.
Her ass ripples around you, clenching like it’s desperate to swallow you whole. Her pussy tightens too — Karina’s fingers pumping deep, her thumb flicking her swollen clit like she’s trying to shatter her.
Karina leans in, licking Winter’s ear, her voice thick with lust:
“You feel that, baby? He’s so deep in your ass… I can feel him pressing through your pussy walls…”
Winter wails — hips bucking back into both of you, drool spilling onto the sheets.
“BREED ME—fucking breed my ass—stuff it full—please—make it leak—”
You snarl and start slamming into her — balls slapping Karina’s wrist with every brutal thrust, the sound of wet flesh filling the room like applause.
Winter screams. Karina moans.
Winter’s pussy explodes — a sudden, violent squirt soaking Karina’s hand and your thighs.
You’re groaning, breath heavy, cock throbbing in her ass. Karina licks her slick-coated fingers and moans into Winter’s hair.
“She’s gushing from both holes,” she purrs. “Fuck, they’re gonna loop this forever…”
Winter’s trembling. Her body’s limp. Her hole’s still tight. And your cock? Still buried. Still twitching. Still hungry.
This isn’t just a scene. It’s a fucking masterclass in destruction. And you’re not even close to done.
You stand tall, looming over them, cock soaked, pulsing — a weapon of destruction still glistening from Winter’s ruined asshole. It hangs low and heavy, dripping with slick and need, veins bulging, twitching violently like it’s dying to unload.
Karina’s eyes widen at the sight. Winter’s mouth hangs open. Neither of them can look away.
“Kneel,” you growl.
They slide off the bed instantly — wrecked, glowing, eager. They drop side by side, ex-idols reduced to nothing but cumhungry messes. Yours.
Karina’s tits jiggle as she settles, sweat glistening on her chest. Winter crawls forward on shaky hands, tongue already out.
You stroke your cock slow — one long, teasing drag from base to tip. It twitches in your grip, precum drooling from the slit, a clear thread stretching down toward their faces.
Karina watches that drop fall. “God… he’s leaking already…”
Winter giggles, breathless. “He’s throbbing so hard—he’s gonna fucking erupt…”
Their eyes are wild. Starved. Hypnotized. Karina licks her lips, then leans in — just barely brushing her cheek along your shaft.
“Come on,” she whispers. “We’ve earned it. You bred us… now show them how much you’ve got left…”
Winter presses her lips to your tip — softly, reverently — and gives it one wet, worshipful kiss.
“Let it out,” she begs. “Let it flood us… paint our fucking faces with it…”
You groan. Knees locking. Balls tightening.
Karina reaches down and cups your sack — gently rolling them in her palm.
“Mmm, they’re so heavy…” she moans. “You’re full, aren’t you? Give it to us. Give us every drop…”
Winter strokes your thigh with trembling fingers, eyes huge, tongue flicking at the drooling slit.
“Fucking drown us, daddy… make it messy…”
They’re talking over each other now — whispering, whimpering, chanting filth.
“Cover my tits—my face—fuck—anywhere you want—”
“On my tongue, please, let me drink it—”
“I want to taste Karina’s load off my own face—”
“Breed my mouth next—flood it—fuck it full—”
You feel it building. Surging. Boiling up from your spine like lava.
You stroke once. Twice.
Then snarl. “Fucking take it.” And explode.
The first rope blasts out with brutal force — slapping across Winter’s cheek and nose, thick and white, dripping instantly from her chin.
The second comes harder — spattering across Karina’s lips and tongue, coating her teeth as she moans with her mouth wide open.
Then another— And another— Even heavier — violent, messy shots splattering both of them like paint on canvas. Cum splashes their cheeks, their tits, their foreheads, mixing with sweat, sliding into the curves of their faces and the valleys of their bodies.
One thick stream hangs midair, landing directly across both their tongues — shared, dripping off their lips in sync.
Winter moans like she’s been blessed. Karina laughs softly, licking her lips, already rubbing it into her skin like lotion.
They’re a mess. Your mess. Dripping. Glazed. Glorious.
Karina smears a streak from her cheek down to her nipple. Winter scoops a glob off her chin and licks it slowly, eyes half-lidded.
“I hope they caught every drop,” Karina breathes.
“They will,” Winter giggles, licking Karina’s cheek clean. “They’re gonna watch this and fucking ruin themselves.”
You just stand there — cock still twitching, dripping the final strands of cum onto their tits. Because that’s what you are now. The man who ruined two idols. The man whose load ended the internet. You just made porn history.
The room is silent for a moment. Except for their breathing. Except for the soft, wet drips of your cum sliding off their chins.
Karina and Winter stay kneeling — ruined, dripping, glowing — their cheeks slick with your seed, their lips parted and sticky, chests rising and falling as they pant through the high.
But the camera’s still rolling.
And now? It zooms in. The frame tightens. Closer. Tighter. Focusing in 4K ultra-HD on two flushed, cum-covered faces — eyes lidded, mouths parted, tongues twitching.
Karina turns first. Still glowing. Still filthy. Her eyes lock with Winter’s.
“C’mere,” she breathes. “Let’s give them something to replay.”
Winter smiles — slow, wicked, needy.
And then they lean in.
The moment their lips touch, the audience is gone. Time slows. The camera captures everything — from the first soft press of their cum-slick mouths to the way their tongues immediately begin tasting each other.
It’s not gentle. It’s not shy. It’s sloppy, wet, obscene.
Their lips slide together with a sticky sound, smearing your cum from cheek to cheek. Tongues flick, swirl, swap. Karina pulls Winter closer by the back of her head, deepening the kiss until it’s nothing short of filthy worship. Strands of cum stretch between them when they part — long, glistening, viscous.
Then they dive back in. Winter moans into Karina’s mouth, her tongue flicking under hers, chasing every leftover drop. Karina groans low in her throat, eyes fluttering closed as she opens wider, letting Winter lick the roof of her mouth clean.
The camera loves it.
Close-up on the lips. On the movement of their tongues. On the trail of your cum as it gets passed back and forth like liquid gold.
Karina finally pulls away — strands snapping between their mouths — and licks her lips slowly, dramatically, her voice breathy:
“Think they got that in 60 fps?”
Winter giggles, tongue flicking out to catch one last drip from her lower lip.
“If they didn’t… they’re fucking fired.”
They both turn to look up at you again — faces slick, chins glazed, tongues still teasing their own lips. And that’s when you realize— This wasn’t just porn. It was a fucking ceremony.And they made you a god.
Notes, Nerd Glasses & Nasty Cumloads - IVE Naoi Rei
6973 words
quickie requested by @minothorn. do send more short smut ideas! quite a bit of time to be writing and directing my horny energy somewhere!
She sat two rows ahead of you in class. Always early. Always quiet. Always wearing that same fucking hoodie, sleeves tugged over her hands, eyes hidden behind wide glasses and a heavy fringe. She never spoke unless the teacher asked her to. And even then? Her voice was soft, almost like she was scared to be heard.
Naoi Rei.
Nobody paid her any mind. Just another nerd with straight A’s and no social life. But she wasn’t invisible to you.
It started small — the way her thighs squeezed together during presentations, how she would fidget with her pen when she was flustered, or the way her lips pressed into a perfect pout whenever she focused too hard on her notes. There was something under all that modesty. Something tightly wound, desperate to be touched.
You didn’t know why, but you started looking. Started noticing. And one day, between classes, you sat next to her on a bench and said—“You’re cute, you know. In that glasses-girl, shy genius kind of way.”
She looked up like you’d slapped her. Eyes wide. Lips parted. Completely frozen.
You chuckled. “Relax. It’s a compliment.”
But Rei didn’t relax. Because that one stupid comment? It rewired her brain. Shy, nerdy Rei started watching your every move. And not just in class.
She stalked your likes on Instagram. Noticed every model you followed, every ass you saved, every story you tapped through twice. She zoomed in on the girls with perfect bodies, tan skin, pouty lips and teased captions.
So Rei made a decision.
She was going to give you the best of both worlds— The quiet, obedient nerd… And the insatiable, mouthwatering slut she knew you jerked off to every night.
You just didn’t know it yet. But soon, you’d be begging to fuck the nerd who sat two rows ahead.
-
Rei had never been the type to care about social media. She used to keep her Instagram private, blank bio, four posts total — two of them were her cat.
But ever since you complimented her that day, something shifted.
At first, it was harmless curiosity. Just tapping into your profile, wondering who you were outside of school. A guy like you — easy confidence, golden skin, teasing smirks that made girls laugh a little too loudly in the hallways. You weren’t a dick about it. Just... magnetic. And way out of her league.
Still, Rei looked. And then she saw your likes.
Not pornstars. Not influencers. But something worse — more dangerous to a girl like her.
Hollywood icons. Megan Fox. Sydney Sweeney. Scarlett in low angles. Angelina in black leather. Girls who didn’t need to show their holes to melt you. They just existed. Full lips. Heavy eyes. Shirts that clung like they were painted on.
They were the kind of women who didn’t ask to be worshipped. They just were.
Rei stared at your feed for hours that night, her legs curled under her blanket, heart thudding as she scrolled through shot after shot of women who looked nothing like her — wild hair, glossed lips, clothes like lingerie disguised as fashion. They were messy. Bold. Teasing. Untouchable.
And you? You liked every single one. Double-tap. Double-tap. Double-tap.
She hated how wet she got watching your pattern. She hated how she started touching herself anyway.
Her panties were soaked by the time she reached Megan in that low-cut corset dress, hair falling over one shoulder, a single caption beneath: I know exactly what you’re thinking.
Rei whimpered into her pillow. Not because she was jealous. But because for the first time in her life, she wanted to be that kind of girl.
-
It began in secret.
She spent nights practicing her pout in the mirror, lifting her shirt just high enough to see underboob. She watched tutorials on how to fake a full-lip look with gloss and liner. Studied the way these women posed — the arch of their back, the angle of the chin, how they bit the corner of their finger just enough to make men want to ruin them.
She ordered clothes online that made her blush the moment they arrived. A lace bralette. A pleated skirt that barely covered her ass when she bent over. A tiny baby tee with a slogan so suggestive she could barely bring herself to read it out loud.
I’m lovely TROUBLE.
And she didn’t just try them on. She filmed herself. Angles from the side. Panning up slowly. A shaky close-up of her biting her lip with one hand down her panties, whispering your name like it was a prayer. Each clip filthier than the last.
She never sent them. Not yet. But they were ready. For when she broke you.
She practiced sucking on popsicles while moaning your name under her breath. Tried pushing two fingers into her throat just to see how much she could handle. Sat in bed for hours edge-playing, holding off her orgasm as she whispered things like:
You’d use my mouth so well, wouldn’t you? Would you like me better with spit running down my chin? I’ll look just like those girls. Better. Just for you.
She got addicted to the idea of ruining herself for you.
You, the only boy who ever looked at her like she was real.
You, the boy who liked women with curves, smirks, and control—
and Rei was going to give you all of it, wrapped in a nerd you could bend over a desk and fuck stupid between classes.
And when she finally took that picture, that tight white shirt gripping her tits like it had been sprayed on, lip gloss shining, eyes low and loaded behind her glasses—
She didn’t post it publicly. She posted it to Close Friends.
You were the only guy on the list. The only person on the list even.
And the caption?
Would you still ask me for notes if I showed up to study with no panties and a mouth ready to serve? 😇📚💋
-
The party was loud. Sweat, booze, music thumping like a heartbeat. You were leaned back on a couch with two of your teammates, half-watching some TikTok compilation on the TV, half-scrolling your own feed.
Then your phone buzzed.
[Rei 💋 posted to Close Friends]
You almost ignored it. Almost.
But something in your chest tugged — a sharp little pulse of curiosity. Rei? Quiet, hoodie-wearing Rei? The girl who barely made eye contact with anyone unless she was correcting a math error?
You tapped. And the air around you froze.
Mirror selfie. Soft amber light from a bathroom bulb kissed her skin in all the right places, giving her that hazy, post-shower glow. Her long dark hair spilled over one shoulder, strands still slightly damp — like she’d just gotten off, or was about to.
Her glasses were still on — but dangerously low, just hanging on the tip of her nose like some cock-hungry schoolgirl fantasy. And her lips? Glossed, wet, slightly open — like she'd been moaning before the camera clicked. You could almost hear it.
But it was the shirt that fucked you up.
A white crop tee so tight it looked vacuum-sealed to her body. Thin enough to show everything — the way her nipples strained against the fabric, hard and begging. The way the curve of her underboob teased beneath the hem. The text across her chest stretched and warped across two perfect, full, fucking massive tits: I’m lovely TROUBLE.
And she was. She fucking was.
No bra. No shame. No way this was the same girl who took quiet notes in pastel colors and wore hoodies two sizes too big.
Your eyes dropped lower. Tiny black skirt, pleated and criminally short. But the real sin?
Her other hand was inside it.
Thumb hooked into the waistband, fingers slipping down between her thighs. You could see the tension in her wrist — she was either pressing right into her soaked cunt or about to. Either way, she was leaking for the camera. For you.
But then you saw the caption, and it was over.
Would you still ask for my notes if I sucked your cock during study sessions?😇📚👅💋
You sat up so fast you nearly dropped your phone.
Your mouth went completely dry. Your cock — half-hard from the usual party buzz — jerked violently to full attention in your pants like it was answering a fucking call. You could feel it throbbing, pressing against your waistband, the fabric already dampening with pre-cum.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The bass of the party music faded out completely.
All you could see was her. All you could feel was that ache.
The ache to grip her hair, tilt her head back by the chin, and bury yourself down her throat.
Your hand twitched toward your crotch on instinct, but you had to stop yourself — you were still surrounded by people.
But then— “Holy fuck, who the hell is that?”
One of your boys leaned over your shoulder, eyes wide.
“Yo, back that up. Back that up. She real?”
“Bro, those tits. What’s her @?”
You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Your brain was running on cumlust.
Because they were talking about her. Your Rei. The nerdy girl with the neat handwriting and shaky voice and hoodies that hid everything. The girl who’d just shown you what she was hiding.
And the worst part? She posted it only for you.
Your balls ached. Your cock twitched. And you knew right then:
You had to see her. You had to ask why she did this. And if she was really brave enough to post that… You were going to find out if she was brave enough to act it out.
-
You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw her. That soft light. That cock-drunk pout. The way her tits looked like they were begging for your hands. Her fingers between her thighs. That fucking caption. That fucking smile.
You jerked off once. Twice. Three times. None of it helped.
Your cock still throbbed. Your balls still ached.
Because no matter how hard you stroked, no matter how much cum spilled out of you onto your stomach or the tissue or your fucking bedsheet — it wasn’t enough.
Not unless it was her mouth. Her tits. Her tight little cunt.
You wanted to fuck her so bad it hurt.
-
And then came morning
You showed up to school early. You didn’t even think about it — your legs moved before your brain caught up. Like your cock had taken over as the GPS.
And then, there she was.
Rei.
At her desk, like always. Front row. Hoodie back on. Hair tied up. Glasses clean and sitting properly on the bridge of her nose. Pencil pouch neatly zipped. Notebook opened to a fresh page.
No makeup. No gloss. No “lovely TROUBLE” shirt. No skin.
It was like it never happened.
You stared. She didn’t even look your way. No wink. No smirk. No knowing glance. Not even a flush.
She was scribbling notes with that same neat handwriting, nodding along to the teacher’s voice, like she hadn’t posted a picture of herself fingering her pussy in a crop top and indirectly asking to suck your cock just twelve hours ago.
Your chest tightened. Your cock stirred again.
You tried to focus. Tried to swallow the frustration burning up your spine.
But all you could think about was
Where the fuck was that Rei? The one who posted for you. The one who wanted to suck you off during study sessions.
You caught her once during the break — passing in the hallway. You slowed. She didn’t. Not a glance. Not a blink. She walked right past you like any other day.
It made you crazy. Made your fists clench and your cock twitch with rage-lust. Because you knew now. Knew what she was hiding under those baggy layers. Knew what her mouth looked like parted in pleasure. Knew how much she wanted you.
But she was pretending again. Putting the mask back on.
And you couldn’t stand it.
You skipped your last class. You waited. You knew where she always went after school — that dusty music room where she liked to study alone. No one ever bothered her there.
But today? You were going to bother her.
You sat in the hallway outside. Waiting. Legs jittering. Cock half-hard and threatening to go full every time you remembered the way her fingers disappeared into her skirt.
Your foot bounced. Your jaw clenched.
And then — finally — the door opened.
You looked up. And there she was.
And for a second, your brain stalled. Because what stepped into the hallway wasn’t Rei, the quiet nerd in a hoodie. It was something straight out of a fucking porn intro. Something weaponized.
She walked into the light — slow, deliberate — hips swaying like she knew she had your attention before the door even opened.
No hoodie. No backpack. No binder.
Just skin. Confidence. And a body made to destroy your sanity.
That same white crop top from the story. So tight it might as well have been painted on. So short it barely clung to the underside of her huge, heavy tits, the words “I’m lovely TROUBLE” stretched across her chest like a warning label you’d fail to read before creaming in your pants.
No bra. Her nipples were sharp, stiff, fucking obvious, poking through like they were desperate for mouth or friction — or both.
Same short black skirt. Barely legal. Riding high on her thighs, barely covering anything. Her inner thighs glistened just a little, and you couldn’t tell if that was oil, sweat, or her slick.
Same thigh-high socks, striped at the top — soft, girly, and perverse. Same glasses, slid low on her nose like a fantasy librarian you’d bend over a table.
And her lips — glossed, shiny, parted like she was ready to suck your cock right then and there.
She didn’t look nervous. Didn’t look shy. She looked horny.
And it hit you all at once: She walked across the fucking school in this.
Hallways. Stairwells. Maybe past teachers. Maybe past your friends. Maybe past guys who stared, drooled, turned to each other wondering who the fuck that wet dream was — not knowing it was her.
Rei. The nerd. Your nerd.
Your cock pulsed. Your eyes scanned her — again, and again, and again — brain scrambling to process how far gone she was. How far she was willing to go to make you hurt, ache, obsess.
She saw you. Stopped a few feet away.
Tilted her head with a sweet, knowing smile — like she’d just caught you jerking off with your phone in one hand and her picture in the other.
“Hey,” she said, voice soft. But the tease behind it? Venomous. “You saw my post, didn’t you?”
You stood up slowly. Couldn’t trust your voice yet. Your chest heaved, and your cock pressed painfully against your waistband — so hard it was starting to leak.
She looked you up and down — and smirked.
Then stepped even closer, her body practically humming with heat.
“Was it too much?” she purred, toying with the hem of her skirt, pretending to tug it down while pushing her chest out. “I was just practicing…”
You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on that curve between her thighs.
“Practicing what?” you managed to growl, voice thick, low, starving.
She leaned in, so close her breath tickled your lips.
“Practicing being the kind of girl who gets to choke on your cock after class.”
Your cock throbbed. Sharp, painful. Like it wanted to rip free from your pants and shove itself straight into her mouth.
You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, lips parted, eyes wide behind fogging glasses. Her fingers toyed with her skirt’s hem again — not to hide anything. To tease.
You stood frozen. Breath heavy. Cock twitching painfully in your pants. She took another step forward, and you could smell her now — that soft, faint perfume… and arousal. Thick. Sweet. Real. Then, she looked up at you and asked— “Are you hard for me already?”
“You’ve been hard all day, haven’t you? Ever since that post.”
You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
She saw it. The strain in your pants. The heat in your eyes. The way your breath hitched just from her voice.
She giggled.
“Poor thing,” she whispered. “Bet your cock’s been drooling in class while I sat all innocent in my hoodie like I wasn’t the same girl who fingered herself for you the night before.”
Then — just like that — she sank to her knees in front of you.
Smooth. Slow. Her thighs spread slightly as she settled down, hands dragging along your legs on the way. She looked up at you, glasses tilted, hair messy, eyes gleaming with filthy intention.
“I’ve been imagining this moment for weeks.”
“I practiced sucking on popsicles. I trained my throat with my fingers. I even watched blowjob tutorials while touching myself.”
Her hands reached for your waistband, tugging your pants down. Your cock sprang out, hard, flushed, twitching, soaked with pre-cum.
She gasped — and smiled like a girl unwrapping her favorite toy.
“Oh my fucking god… you’re even bigger than I pictured when I fucked myself with my highlighters.”
Her hand wrapped around the base — warm, delicate, needy. She leaned in close, let her tongue drag up the shaft, slow and deliberate, before pausing just beneath the tip.
“Do you know how many times I imagined this cock stretching my throat until I cried?”
You groaned.
She giggled again.
“You always looked so nice. So composed. I just wanted to see you fucking break.”
Then she opened her mouth. Wide. Wet. Willing. And slid you past her lips like she’d done it a thousand times.
No fumbling. No hesitation. Just immediate submission.
She took you deep — too deep — until her nose brushed your pelvis and she gagged softly around your cock, tears brimming in her eyes. But she didn’t stop. She moaned around you. Pulled back, strings of spit clinging from her lips to your tip.
“Use my face,” she panted, eyes glazed. “Treat me like those girls you watch on your phone. Like I’m just a pretty pair of lips to cum into.”
She sucked you back in, this time with rhythm — sloppy, filthy, two hands twisting along your shaft as she bobbed her head, moaning like a girl who’d waited her entire life for this cock.
Wet sounds echoed down the hallway. Your hips twitched involuntarily. You were losing it.
“Cum for me,” she begged between slurps. “Cum all over the girl you thought was too quiet to be your slut.”
And you were so close. So, fucking close.
Your balls tightened. Your breath hitched. Your hands gripped her head like handles as her mouth slurped down your shaft, warm and so fucking wet, the obscene noises of her sucking echoing in the music room like the prelude to your undoing.
“Fuck—Rei—fuck, I’m gonna—”
And then she pulled off.
Just like that.
Your cock slipped from her lips with a wet pop, covered in spit, angry and desperate to explode. A strand of saliva hung between her tongue and your tip as she looked up at you — cheeks flushed, lips shiny, chest heaving.
She smiled. A slow, slutty, cruel smile.
“Not yet,” she whispered, licking her lips. “I want your first load somewhere else.”
Your mouth parted. Your brain blanked. And Rei? She stood up — slowly, seductively, dragging her hands over her body as if unwrapping a gift you weren’t worthy of but were about to fucking ruin.
She reached back and tugged the skirt down her thighs. No panties. Of course there weren’t.
Her thighs were slick. Her inner lips puffy, glistening, already aching for you.
Then she slipped off her shoes, but kept the thigh-high socks. She unzipped the skirt, tossed it aside, then reached for the hem of her shirt.
You didn’t even want her to take it off. But she didn’t.
She pulled it up just enough to flash the undercurve of her tits — the words I’m lovely TROUBLE stretching proudly across her bouncing chest. Her nipples tented the fabric, still visible, still begging.
And finally— She adjusted her glasses.
Still on. Fogged. Perfect.
She stood in front of you in nothing but that tight white shirt, those striped thigh highs, and her glasses — skin flushed, eyes wild, pussy soaked.
She turned slowly, giving you every angle.
“You can fuck me however you want,” she whispered. “On the piano. Against the wall. On the floor. You can bend me, fold me, throw me.”
Then she stepped toward you, voice low, breath hot.
“You’re hard because of me. You’ve been throbbing for hours because of me. So now, take me how you need me. Be the first one to ruin this little body. I’ve saved every part of it… for you.”
She turned around and bent at the waist, looking back over her shoulder, her dripping cunt fully exposed under the lifted shirt, glistening between those socked thighs. Waiting. Begging. “So… what’s your choice?”
“How are you going to fuck your nerd first?”
You didn’t even speak at first. You just grabbed her wrist, spun her, and shoved her back onto the piano bench.
She squealed — soft, slutty, excited — as you yanked her legs apart, the thigh-highs framing her slick, bare pussy like an invitation you were born to accept.
Her eyes met yours through fogged-up glasses as you stood between her knees, cock twitching, leaking, angry after she edged you with that throat.
“Fuck me, please,” she panted. “I’ve been dripping for you since last night. You made me walk through the whole school like this knowing I was one word away from bending over a desk for you.”
You pushed her down on the piano, knees to her chest. Her heels dug into your back the moment you pushed in.
Tight. Warm. Fucking perfect.
Rei gasped, body arching so hard her glasses nearly flew off her face, the thin metal frames sliding down her nose as you sank deeper, stretching her inch by inch until you bottomed out.
“Oh god, yes—” she moaned, voice cracking with a sharp gasp, “I knew you’d be big, but… fuck, you’re splitting me open—”
You folded her in half right there on the piano bench, her thighs pressed tight against her own chest, her ass planted on the keys so the first thrust made the instrument groan out a sharp, broken chord beneath her.
Every hard stroke shoved her shirt higher, her I’m lovely TROUBLE crop top barely clinging to her chest as her tits bounced wildly beneath it.
You grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, forcing her to stay wide open as you slammed into her, faster now, the wet squelches of her pussy echoing off the walls with every thrust.
Her head rolled back. Eyes unfocused. Drool gathering at the corner of her lips.
“Breed me like this,” she begged, voice slurred, desperate. “Please—please, fill me up… mating press… yeah, fuck me like I’m the only hole you’ll ever need—”
She was so wet you could hear it—sticky, obscene, a filthy symphony mixing with the groaning piano beneath her ass every time you drove her down onto your cock.
Her nails raked down your arms, red lines blooming across your skin as she gasped through another thrust that made her tits slap against her chest beneath the shirt.
“Harder,” she cried, legs shaking around your waist, “I want to feel it tomorrow… I want to drip all day in class knowing you bred me full—”
Her voice cracked as you picked up speed, hips slamming forward brutally now, her whole body jerking with each thrust.
“Fuck—yes—yes—ruin me, please—god, make me yours—”
And you weren’t done. Not even close.
You shifted her wrists into one hand, keeping her arms pinned above her head while your free hand grabbed her throat lightly, tilting her head back so her fogged-up glasses nearly fell off.
“Look at you,” you growled, watching her tits bounce, her cunt swallow you down to the hilt every time you slammed in. “Little nerd with the big fucking tits—getting fucked like a pornstar.”
She moaned so loudly the piano under her ass screamed with vibrations.
“I am your pornstar,” she whined. “Only yours… only your cock… only your cum—”
Your thrusts got harder. Meaner. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably now, locked around your waist like she was scared you’d stop before she was wrecked beyond repair.
But you weren’t stopping. Not until she was screaming your name.
Her legs locked tighter around your waist as you hammered into her, each thrust driving her higher, harder, the sound of wet flesh colliding echoing off the walls with every brutal stroke. The piano keys beneath her ass sang out random, discordant notes from the impact, each slam producing some warped, broken chord that mixed with her breathless cries.
“Oh my god—I can’t—” she moaned, voice gone hoarse, back arching so high her glasses nearly slid off her face. “You’re gonna make me—fucking hell—you’re gonna make me—”
You didn’t let up. You drove into her, faster, harder, sweat dripping from both your bodies as her thighs shook violently around you.
“Say it,” you growled, fingers digging into her waist. “I’m—I’m—gonna cum—fuck, I’m gonna fucking—”
It hit her mid-sentence.
Her whole body locked, legs spasming as her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Then it poured out of her — hot, clear, sudden — gushing down your cock, spraying over the piano bench, dripping off the edges onto the floor in a violent, messy release.
The wet sound was deafening. You didn’t stop. You rode it out, pounding through her orgasm as she squirted again, and again, her cries turning to gasps, gasps to sobs, sobs to manic little giggles as her eyes rolled back.
“Ohmygodohmygod—I’m still—fucking—cumming—” she babbled, her voice shaking, legs trembling violently as you kept slamming into her soaked, dripping cunt.
Every thrust now splashed through the mess she’d made, the piano keys below both of you clacking like applause for how wrecked she was getting.
You leaned down, mouth at her ear, your thrusts brutal and relentless.
“Look at this fucking mess,” you growled. “Nerd girl squirting like a pornstar on the first fuck.”
“Y-yes—yes—I’m your pornstar—” she gasped, drool on her chin, “your little slutty nerd—oh fuck—”
You felt her legs starting to give out, her body limp from overstimulation. So you pulled out — soaked cock glistening in the low light — and dragged her off the piano by the hips.
She was panting, trembling, dripping everywhere as you bent her over the teacher’s desk in one motion, her ass high, her face pressed to the wood.
“New position,” you growled, lining yourself up again. “Please—oh fuck, please—” she begged, already spreading her legs wider.
And then you slammed into her from behind. Hard. Fast. Mean.
She gasped loud enough to echo off the classroom walls, one hand flying out to steady herself as you shoved her forward, scattering pens, worksheets, and a half-empty water bottle off the teacher’s desk. The cheap wood rattled under her palms as she bent over, back arched to present herself like the slut she swore she wasn’t before today.
Her skirt was already bunched at her waist, useless, nothing but a crumpled belt around her hips now. The sunlight cutting through the blinds turned her ass into a perfect canvas of stripes and shadow, every thrust-ready inch glistening with arousal.
She was wet. Dripping. And then you slammed into her.
One rough, merciless thrust straight to the base.
She screamed into the crook of her arm, whole body jerking forward, her glasses slipping down her nose as her legs struggled to keep steady.
“Oh, f-fuck!”
You didn’t stop. Didn’t give her time to breathe.
You grabbed her waist hard enough to bruise and started pounding, hips colliding with her ass so fast the smack, smack, smack of skin-on-skin filled the room louder than her whimpers.
“Yes! Yes! Harder—fuck me harder—” she cried out, her voice cracking on every word as her hips slammed back to meet you. “Use me! Use me like the stupid little slut I am… fuck… like I’ve been dying for your cock since the day you sat next to me!”
The desk legs screeched across the floor with every thrust. The whole thing shook like it might collapse under how hard you were driving into her.
Her glasses fogged completely, falling down the bridge of her nose as she moaned open-mouthed, face flushed, hair plastered to her sweaty cheek.
Your balls slapped her clit again and again, obscene, wet sounds filling the room every time you buried yourself to the hilt. Her thighs quivered with each collision, her knuckles white on the desk edge.
“I’m your nerd now,” she panted through the noise, breathless, voice breaking into near-hysterics, “your toy… fuck, your little cumdump if you want me to be… I’ll be anything, just don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”
Her tits bounced violently with every thrust, the thin white crop top clinging to her sweat-slick skin, the words I’m lovely TROUBLE warping and jiggling across her chest like a flashing warning sign you ignored completely.
You reached up and grabbed a handful of that shirt, yanking her back by the fabric so she arched even deeper, your cock hitting her harder, deeper, faster.
She squealed, one hand flying back to grab your wrist as if she couldn’t handle the way you were fucking her but couldn’t stand the idea of you stopping either.
“God, yes—fuck me stupid—wreck your little nerd—make me your fucking mess—”
The sunlight lit every drop of sweat, every ripple of her body slamming back into yours, every time her cunt clenched desperately around your cock like she was trying to milk it for everything you had.
She was loud now. Slut-loud. The kind of loud that carried through hallways, the kind that left no doubt in anyone’s mind what was happening inside this room.
And she didn’t care. Because right now? She wasn’t the quiet nerd anymore. She was yours.
You yanked her down off the desk, books and pens clattering to the floor as she hit the ground with a squeal.
But before you could even catch your breath, Rei was already moving — straddling you like a woman possessed, one hand on your chest for balance, the other wrapping around your spit-slick cock and lining it up with her soaked, trembling pussy.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait for you to say a word. She slammed herself down with a choked cry, taking you all the way in one desperate thrust.
“Ohhh—fuck—yes!” she gasped, head thrown back, hair flying, glasses slipping halfway down her nose. “Finally… finally inside me again—”
And then she rode. Hard. Fast. Messy.
The sound of her thighs smacking against yours filled the classroom as she bounced up and down on your cock like she was trying to break herself on it.
She was loud. Slut-loud. Moaning like she didn’t care who heard her.
“I practiced this too,” she gasped between sharp cries, hips pounding down so hard you had to grab her ass just to steady her. “Sat on my hairbrush… thinking about this cock… pretending it was you pinning me down… f-fucking me like this while I came all over it…”
Her tits were right in your face now, barely contained by that tiny white crop top, the words bouncing like a taunt every time she slammed herself down on you.
You groaned, grabbing her waist as she ground herself down, her clit rubbing against you with every brutal thrust.
“Gonna make myself cum first,” she whined, voice breaking, sweat dripping from her temple onto your chest. “Then I want you to flip me again… fuck me stupid… fuck me till I can’t walk straight tomorrow… till I forget my own fucking name.”
Her pussy clenched tight around you as if to prove her point, sucking you in with every bounce, gripping like she wanted to wring every drop out of you but wasn’t going to let you finish yet.
She leaned forward suddenly, tits mashing into your chest, breath hot in your ear.
“Bet you’re close, huh?” she whispered, voice trembling but cocky. “Feel you throbbing… so hard for me… so ready to paint my insides… but not yet. You don’t cum till I say you can.”
She sat back up, hips slapping against yours even faster now, ass rippling as she rode you with feral energy, sweat dripping down her spine, skirt bunched around her waist, socks pulled tight on her thighs.
You were gripping her hips, teeth clenched, groaning through it, because her pace was merciless.
“God—yes—fuck, look at me,” she cried, glasses sliding even lower now, mouth open, eyes rolling back. “Look at your quiet little nerd… fucking herself stupid on your cock like she was made for it.”
And she didn’t slow down. Not when her thighs started shaking. Not when she gasped, head snapping back as her body began to twitch with the edge of an orgasm.
Her pace was manic now — messy, uncoordinated, almost desperate.
She wasn’t riding you anymore so much as slamming herself down, chasing the end like she couldn’t stand one more second without it.
“Oh fuck—oh fuck—oh fuck—”
Her thighs were trembling violently against your hips, her nails clawing at your shoulders as she bounced through it, her moans breaking into sharp little cries with every thrust.
Then her whole body seized. Back arched. Head thrown back. Mouth open in a silent scream before the sound tore out of her throat anyway.
She came. Hard.
Clit grinding against your pelvis, cunt clenching like it was trying to rip your cock out by the root, juices spilling down your shaft and pooling in your lap as she wailed through it, eyes squeezed shut behind those fogged-up glasses.
“F-fuck… fuck yes… oh my God… I’m—ahhh—cumming… cumming so hard—”
You gritted your teeth, holding her through it as her whole body twitched, her orgasm spilling out in wet, filthy splashes against your thighs.
She collapsed forward, gasping, sweat dripping down her spine, lips trembling against your neck as she shook through the aftershocks.
And just when you thought she was spent— She pushed you back.
You were breathing hard, cock still buried inside her when she suddenly shoved you down by the shoulders, eyes blazing through the mess of hair clinging to her face.
Her glasses were fogged to hell, hair a sweaty wreck, crop top riding so high now you could see the full, heavy undercurve of her tits every time she leaned forward.
She pulled off you slowly.
Your spit-slick, pussy-wet cock slipped out with a lewd squelch, slapping against her stomach as it sprang free — flushed, angry, throbbing, every vein bulging like it was ready to blow at any second.
And she smirked. That filthy, knowing smirk that said she was the one ruining you now.
“You like my tits, don’t you?” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. “Been staring at them since that post. Pretending not to, but I know.”
You were half-gone already — body slick with sweat, cock aching, balls heavy from everything she’d just put you through.
But Rei? Rei wasn’t done.
She was breathing hard, glasses sliding down her nose, sweat running between her tits under that tiny white crop top. Her thighs still trembled from riding you, but that wicked smile stayed on her lips.
And then she pulled back — off your cock completely.
You almost groaned at the loss, ready to grab her hips and slam her back down, but she pressed a finger to your lips.
“Shhh,” she whispered, voice low, dangerously sweet. “I told you… I practiced everything.”
Then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and peeled it off in one slow motion, tossing it aside so her tits bounced free at last — heavy, round, perfect, glistening with sweat.
Fucking huge. The kind of tits you’d seen on your feed a thousand times but never thought you’d have sliding around your cock.
And Rei dropped to her knees between your legs again.
She leaned forward, letting her tits press together around your shaft. Warm. Soft. Smothering.
You groaned instantly, head falling back as she spat right onto your cock, the warm saliva running down between those perfect curves, mixing with sweat, dripping over your balls.
“Fuck…” you muttered, hips twitching.
Rei smirked up at you through messy hair and fogged-up glasses.
“Yeah?” she teased softly. “You like my nerd tits better than those Hollywood girls now? These are all yours. Big fucking tits on a girl who’s been dying to hear you cum on them since you first smiled at her.”
She started moving. Slow at first. Up and down. Squeezing tighter. Spit slicking every motion. The head of your cock popped out between the tops of her tits with each stroke, red and angry, dripping pre-cum onto her chest before disappearing again into the warm, perfect squeeze.
“I watched so many videos,” she whispered between strokes, “girls with big tits, covered in cum… I fingered myself to them imagining it was you painting me white while I looked up just like this.”
She licked the tip whenever it slipped free, just a quick wet flick of her tongue, before burying you back between her soft, bouncing flesh.
“Gonna fill them up, right? Make a mess of me? So every time I look down at my tits I’ll remember the first time you used them?”
You groaned. Your hips lifted slightly, chasing the heat, the slick.
“Fuck, Rei—”
She sped up. Squeezing tighter. Drool dripping from her mouth to mix with spit and sweat.
“You’re throbbing so much,” she panted, “so full. But not yet… oh no, I want to feel it in my pussy first. These tits get the second load. My little cunt gets the first one.”
Your hands gripped her hair as she fucked her tits around your cock like she was born to do it, eyes dark with need, moaning softly every time the head slapped against her collarbone.
Rei stayed on her knees, glasses sliding lower as she pushed her tits tighter together around your cock, the warm weight of them wrapping you in pure sin. Her spit mixed with sweat, dripping down her cleavage, coating your length so every stroke sounded lewd and wet in the empty music room.
She looked up at you through strands of messy hair, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
“Look at you,” she murmured, voice breathless but taunting, “the big man on campus about to lose it between the tits of the nerd no one ever noticed… except you. Bet you never thought this would happen, huh? Bet you never thought I was jerking off to you while I studied integrals and chemical equations.”
She spat again, hot and sloppy, letting it drizzle over your cock before smashing her tits tighter around you, sliding them up and down in faster, messier strokes.
“I used to finger myself in the showers thinking about this,” she continued, licking your tip when it slipped free for a second, “thinking about how good you’d look straining to hold back while I made you explode all over my chest. You want to cover me, don’t you? Paint the girl who solved your math problems like one of those Hollywood sluts you like so much?”
You groaned, hips twitching helplessly. The head of your cock flared angry red each time it popped through the top of her cleavage, slick and dripping pre-cum over her sternum before she buried it again between her soft, perfect flesh.
“Mmm… fuck, you’re throbbing,” she moaned, biting her lip, “so heavy, so close. I want it, baby. Want it all over me. Want to smell like your cum when I walk back home tonight.”
She picked up the pace, faster now, breasts bouncing as she fucked them around you with both hands squeezing tight, the obscene slap of wet skin echoing off the walls.
“I want people to see it on me,” she whispered, eyes locked on yours, “so they know I’m yours now. That the quiet little nerd is just your cumdump with big, bouncy tits made for one thing—making you empty your balls whenever you want.”
Your breathing hitched. Your thighs tensed.
“Do it,” she begged, voice cracking as she squeezed even tighter. “Cum for me. Make a mess of me. Give me everything. I’ll rub it in so deep my bra will smell like you for days.”
That broke you. With a strangled groan, you grabbed her hair and thrust up once, twice—then erupted, ropes of hot, thick cum painting her tits, her chest, her neck, splattering over her collarbones as she laughed breathlessly through the mess.
“Oh my god,” she giggled, looking down at herself, hands spreading the warm, sticky load over her breasts like lotion. “You’re filthy. Look what you did to me.”
She smeared it higher, over her throat, letting it drip between her cleavage as she sucked one finger clean, eyes locked on you with a look that screamed not finished.
Then she stood slowly, cum running down her chest, the skirt and shirt already abandoned, thigh-highs still hugging her legs. She leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
“My place,” she whispered, voice low and sultry. “Round two. No condoms. No pulling out. I want to feel it flood my pussy this time.”
She grabbed her shirt but didn’t put it on, slinging it over her shoulder as she walked toward the door, cum still dripping down her skin, leaving a trail of temptation behind her.
“Come on,” she teased, looking back with a smirk. “You’re not done with me yet.”
counts: ~5,600 words
tags: smut, fluff, passionate, blowjob, titjob, missionary
synopsis: After a date, walk and dinner with Hayoung, your girlfriend, you bring her home, where playful tension, teasing touches, slow exploration and intimate, leaving both utterly spent and satisfied.
You sit across from Hayoung in a small corner cafe, the kind where the lights hang low and everything feels softer than it should.
The smell of roasted beans mixes with butter and something sweet from the kitchen.
She's holding her menu with both hands, her lips pushed into a little pout like she's solving a puzzle.
"I don't know what to get," she mumbles, half to herself, half to you.
You grin, watching her eyes dart between the pasta section and the desserts. "You always take forever. Just pick one thing and stick to it."
"Easy for you to say," she shoots back, sticking her tongue out in a quick playful flash.
Eventually she orders a creamy pasta and a milkshake—classic Hayoung.
You take a steak, something heavier, because you know she'll lean across the table at some point, fork in hand, and wanting a bite.
The food arrives, and conversation flows the way it always does with her—effortless. Work frustrations, some stupid TikTok she found, her complaints about her phone battery.
She laughs easily, head tilting back, her shoulders rising like she's surrendering to her own amusement. That laugh gets you every time.
Halfway through, just like you predicted, she slides her fork into your steak and steals a cut. You raise an eyebrow.
"I knew it," you mutter.
She chews, smiling with her cheeks puffed. "Mmm. Yours is better."
"Then why didn't you order this?"
"Because I knew you'd get it," she says simply, shrugging. It's the kind of simple, disarming line she throws out like nothing, but it lands heavy in your chest.
When the plates are cleared, you linger. Neither of you is in a rush. She plays with her straw, stirring the melted milkshake, while her knee brushes yours under the table. You notice it, she notices it, but she doesn't pull back. Instead, she looks at you like she's waiting to see if you'll react.
"You're quiet," she says softly.
"I'm just… watching you," you answer without thinking.
Her cheeks turn faintly pink. She hides behind her straw again, but you catch the small smile she's trying not to show.
The walk afterward feels like the real date. The night is cool, streets washed in yellow from the lamps, traffic distant enough it doesn't touch you here. She walks close, her arm brushing yours every few steps. You slip your hand into hers, and she squeezes back instantly, no hesitation.
"Feels good out here," she says, tipping her face up at the sky. "Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect."
"Kind of like you," you tease.
She groans, bumping your shoulder. "You're so cheesy." But she doesn't let go of your hand.
You pass little shops closing down, a street musician playing something soft on guitar, a stray cat darting between parked cars. Hayoung stops to crouch and try calling the cat, her voice gentle, coaxing. The cat ignores her, vanishing into the shadows.
"Aww, meanie," she pouts, standing again. "I just wanted to pet it."
"You already have me. That should be enough," you say.
She smacks your arm, laughing. "Stop with the lines tonight. You're on fire."
"Can't help it," you admit. "You make it easy."
She falls quiet at that, walking beside you, her hand still locked with yours. She's blushing again—you can see it even under the streetlight.
Back at your apartment, the air shifts. It's not sudden, not dramatic, but you feel it. She slips off her shoes at the door, looking around like she always does, even though she's been here a hundred times. You toss your keys onto the counter, and she drifts into the living room, touching the back of your couch, the stack of books by the table.
"Feels different tonight," she says.
"How so?"
She shrugs, sitting down on the couch, curling her legs up beside her. "I don't know. Just… cozy."
You sit next to her, not too close, but not far either. She leans back against the cushions, watching you with her head tilted.
"You're staring again," she says.
"I told you. Can't help it."
She pulls a throw pillow into her lap, hugging it. "You're gonna make me shy."
"You? Shy?" You laugh. "You're the one stealing food, calling cats, and pouting at everything. You don't get shy."
Her lips twitch. She buries half her face into the pillow. "I do when you look at me like that."
The silence that follows is heavier, thicker. She peeks at you from behind the pillow, her eyes wide, unguarded. You reach out slowly, pulling the pillow away. She doesn't stop you.
"Hayoung," you murmur.
She swallows, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. "Yeah?"
You don't answer right away. You just hold her gaze, the air between you tight enough to snap. She shifts closer, her thigh brushing yours, and suddenly it feels like the room is smaller, warmer.
Her voice drops to almost a whisper. "You're gonna kiss me, aren't you?"
You smirk. "You want me to?"
She bites her lip, then nods. "Yeah."
You close the space, slow enough to feel every inch disappear, until your mouth touches hers. It's not rushed. Her lips are soft, tentative at first, then pressing harder as she leans into you. Her hand slides up to your chest, gripping lightly, as though testing how far she can go.
She breathes out against your mouth, a small sound, and you catch her lower lip between yours, kissing deeper. Her body turns, angling closer, until she's half in your lap, her fingers curling into your shirt.
When you finally break apart, both of you are flushed, catching breath. She laughs lightly, almost nervous, but her eyes are bright.
"Took you long enough," she whispers.
"You could've kissed me first," you say.
"I wanted you to." She smiles, leaning her forehead against yours. "I always want you to."
You lean back against the cushions, letting her take the lead. Her hands slide up your chest, tentative but eager, fingertips tracing the shape of your pecs through your shirt. You feel her hesitate, then push bolder—she brushes across your nipple, catching it lightly with her thumb.
A sharp breath escapes you.
She grins at the sound. "Sensitive?"
"You have no idea," you mutter.
Her hand circles it again, slower this time, deliberately teasing. Her other hand anchors against your shoulder, keeping her balanced while she leans closer. She kisses you again, deeper now, lips hungrier. When her tongue slides past yours, she pinches your nipple softly, making you jolt.
"Hayoung…" Your voice comes out lower than you meant.
She only hums, pleased, and keeps going. Her touch drifts down, slipping over the curve of your stomach, until her palm rests just above your belt. She pauses, eyes flicking up to yours.
"You're… already hard," she says, almost innocently, though the little smirk on her lips betrays her.
"And whose fault is that?" you shoot back.
Her fingers press lightly against the bulge straining in your jeans. She tests it, squeezing just enough to make you grunt. The playful look on her face deepens into something more curious, more serious.
"Feels big," she whispers, almost to herself.
You swallow hard, your body tensing under her. She rubs her palm over you again, slow circles, dragging the fabric against your length. The friction is maddening, making you twitch under her touch.
"Hayoung," you warn, but it comes out more like a plea.
Her eyes glimmer, catching every reaction you give her. "I like it when you say my name like that," she murmurs, pressing harder, her hand moving up and down the outline of your cock.
Your head falls back against the bed, breath heavy, while she keeps teasing. She's not rushing—just playing, learning how your body responds. Every squeeze, every slow stroke over the denim has you fighting to stay still.
Finally, she leans down, her lips brushing your ear as her hand stays cupped over your bulge. "Can I… keep going?" she asks softly.
You just nod and that's the only thing she needed.
She shifts up, pulling your hands, navigating you towards your bed, with a giggle yet playfully tone, she pushes you lie back, as you sink in, she straddles you again.
She grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it up without hesitation. You lift your arms just in time, and the fabric's gone—tossed somewhere on the floor.
Her eyes roam your bare chest, her lips curving with a mix of mischief and awe. "Mm. I was curious," she murmurs, tracing a fingertip down your sternum.
Then she leans in.
Her mouth closes around your nipple, kissing it first, then letting her tongue swirl over it. The sudden wet heat makes you flinch and groan, your hand instinctively gripping her thigh. She smirks against your skin, then flicks the other nipple with her finger, back and forth, until your muscles twitch under the dual sensation.
"Sensitive everywhere," she teases, pulling back just enough to look at you. "You're fun."
Her tongue traces lower, sliding over the tight lines of your chest, following the cut of your muscles. She kisses down your abs, slow and deliberate, each press of her lips making your stomach tense. Then, instead of going further, she massages your torso gently with her palms, kneading your skin like she's savoring the feel of you.
"You've been working out, huh?" she whispers, running her hands along your sides.
"Trying to," you manage, your voice rough.
She climbs back up, hovering over your face. Her hair falls down like a curtain, framing both of you in your own little world. Your eyes catch the view—her loose top has fallen forward, and her bra barely keeps her breasts from spilling. The curves sway just above your chest, teasing, almost brushing you when she leans closer.
You can't help it—you peek. She notices instantly.
Her lips curl. "Looking?"
"Hard not to," you admit.
Instead of pulling back, she lowers herself even more, until her chest dangles right above your mouth, the fabric of her bra stretching against the weight. You can feel her breath on your lips, her breasts swaying gently with every move.
"Maybe I want you to," she whispers.
She doesn't wait for you to answer. She dips her head down, her lips landing on the side of your neck. The first kiss is soft, almost testing—but the next is wetter, her tongue dragging slow against your skin before she bites down, just hard enough to make you hiss.
Your hands clutch at her hips. "Hayoung…"
She shushes you with another kiss, her breath hot against your ear.
Her body presses flush against yours now, her breasts squashing against your chest through the thin fabric of her top. You feel the give of her softness, the faint outline of her bra. Every shift grinds her curves into you, and you can't stop your hips from jerking up in response.
She notices. Of course she notices. Her lips leave your neck, glistening faintly where she licked, and she pulls back just enough to smirk down at you. "Getting harder, aren't you?"
You grunt, your bulge straining painfully against your pants. "You're not making it easy."
Her hips lower, pressing onto you deliberately. Your cock rubs against the seam of your jeans, trapped but aching, and the friction makes you grind up, chasing more of it. The fabric barrier makes it hotter somehow—messy, desperate, with no real release yet.
Hayoung gasps softly when she feels how stiff you are, her thighs tightening around you. "God… you're really big," she whispers, almost as if surprised again. She rocks down once, experimentally, and you groan into her shoulder.
Your bodies start moving together—her grinding down, you thrusting up, caught in that maddening rhythm with clothes still between you. Every press of her hips makes the bulge in your jeans throb harder, your cock straining for space. Her breasts push into your chest with each motion, the straps of her bra digging faintly against your skin.
Her lips are back at your neck, kissing and biting, leaving little trails of heat. "You like this, don't you?" she murmurs against your skin.
"Too much," you admit, breath ragged.
She chuckles low, her voice husky now. "Good. I want you to."
She slides one hand down between you. Her fingers slip under your waistband, teasing along the heat of your stomach before pushing lower.
You jolt as her hand closes around your cock, pulling you out of the suffocating denim. The cool air hits you first, then the warmth of her palm. She strokes once, slow and deliberate, before giving you a look that makes your chest tighten. "Finally free," she whispers, smirking as your length throbs against her hand.
Your response comes out rough. "Hayoung…"
Instead of answering, she leans back just enough to grab the hem of her loose top. In one swift pull, she yanks it over her head and tosses it aside. Her bra holds her breasts tight, but the swell of them is right there in front of you, inches away.
She grins at your stare. "You were peeking earlier. Want a better view?"
Before you can reply, she presses her chest against your cock, squeezing you between her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra. The softness engulfs you instantly, your shaft sliding up between the curves as she pushes them together with her arms.
"Ah—fuck," you hiss, your hips jerking up without control.
She giggles at your reaction, adjusting her position so your cock nestles deep in her cleavage. "Feels good already?"
"Too good," you groan.
She starts to move, lifting and pressing, her breasts stroking along your shaft. The heat of her skin, the tight press of her bra, the way she leans forward so her chest swallows more of you—it all makes your head spin. Each shift of her body rubs your cock between her cleavage, slicking it with your own pre-cum until the glide turns smoother.
She leans closer, her lips brushing your jaw as she works her chest around you. "You're so hard for me," she whispers, her breath shaky with excitement. "I can feel how much you want it."
Your cock slides higher, the tip brushing the top of her chest, almost reaching her collarbone. She squeezes tighter, looking down at the sight, her cheeks flushed. "God… it's so big between my boobs."
Your hips buck, chasing the friction, and she moans softly just from watching how desperate you look beneath her.
Your cock twitches between her cleavage, slick with your pre-cum, and you feel the edge crashing down faster than you can control.
"Hayoung—" you choke out, trying to warn her, but your body jerks on its own.
A groan rips from your chest as you explode. Thick spurts of cum shoot up past her chest, splattering across her upper breasts, streaking her collarbone, even landing high enough to dot her chin.
She gasps, eyes wide, freezing for a second in surprise. Then a little smile creeps over her lips, cute and wicked at once. "Wow… you really made a mess," she says softly, looking down at the streaks glistening on her skin.
She dips her fingers into the cum on her collarbone, smearing it gently across her chest, she brings a finger to her mouth and sucks it clean, humming lightly. "Mm. Tastes… not bad."
Her sight alone makes your cock throb again, still half-hard between her breasts. She notices, tilts her head with a grin, then slides lower between your knees.
"Not finished, huh?" she teases, her breath brushing your wet shaft. "Good. I don't want to stop either."
Before you can answer, she leans down, lips parting, and takes your cock into her mouth. Warm, wet, the suction immediate and greedy. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, cleaning the cum that smeared along it, before she sinks deeper, bobbing her head slow.
Your hand grips her hair instinctively, her eyes lifting up to meet yours. She looks up at you with that same playful innocence, even while her mouth works your cock, spit beginning to drip down her chin.
Her tongue swirls under the tip, lapping at the slit until you twitch helplessly in her mouth.
She pulls back with a wet pop, a line of spit stretching from her lips to your shaft. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she smirks. "You taste even better here."
Her hand wraps around the base, pumping you slow, keeping you hard while her mouth trails lower. She kisses the side of your shaft, leaving faint marks, then drags her tongue down the thick vein until she reaches your balls.
You suck in a sharp breath as she presses her lips against them, soft and teasing. Then she opens her mouth and sucks one into the heat of her mouth, rolling it gently with her tongue.
"Ah—fuck, Hayoung," you groan, your hips jerking.
She giggles against your skin, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through you. She switches to the other ball, sucking, licking along the sensitive skin, while her hand strokes your cock in time with her mouth. Your thighs tremble under the attention, every nerve strung tight.
"You're so sensitive here," she says, pulling back just enough to blow a warm breath over your balls. "I love it."
Her tongue slides up again, dragging spit all the way to your tip before she swallows your cock down halfway, her throat tightening around you. She moans as she does it, the sound vibrating straight through your shaft. Your body arching, so close to tipping over.
She knows it. She feels your cock pulse in her mouth, your abs tightening under her hands. And instead of finishing you, she slows down—pulling back to stroke you with her hand, licking the underside lazily, teasing the head with little flicks of her tongue.
You growl in frustration, "Don't… stop teasing me."
Hayoung smiles wickedly, licking a fat line up your cock before sucking the tip again, then letting it slip free with another wet pop. "Why not? You look so hot like this. So close, but not there."
She strokes you with both hands now, twisting slowly, while her mouth goes back to your balls, sucking them noisily, drool dripping down her chin. Each time you start to buck your hips, chasing the edge, she pulls back just enough to deny you, keeping you trembling, desperate.
Your whole body is tense, your cock slick with spit, your balls wet from her mouth. She pulls away for a moment, wiping her chin with her thumb, her cheeks flushed and glistening.
"You're shaking," she whispers, stroking your cock just under the tip. "You want to cum again, don't you?"
Your answer comes out ragged, nearly a growl. "Yes."
She leans down, pressing a kiss right to the tip, tongue flicking, but she doesn't give in yet. "But I want to play a little longer," she says softly, her eyes locking with yours.
And with that, she swallows you down again, slow and deep, her spit dripping over your balls as her hand massages them gently, your cock is slick from her spit, twitching in her hand while she sucks your balls one last time before pulling away, wiping her chin with the back of her wrist.
She sits back on her knees between your legs, still holding your shaft, stroking it lazily. Her chest rises and falls quick with her own breath, nipples poking through the bra fabric.
She looks at you for a moment, biting her lip, before reaching down to the waistband of her skirt.
"Too hot," she murmurs, almost to herself.
She slides the skirt down her thighs, tossing it aside. Only her panties are left, black and clinging tight. The damp spot is impossible to miss—it's dark, wet, spread across the thin fabric.
Your cock jerks in her hand at the sight.
Hayoung notices, smirks faintly, and crawls forward. She straddles your lap again, your cock pressing up against her panties. She drags herself along it deliberately, her folds grinding against your shaft through the panties. The wet heat seeps through instantly, her pussy leaving a slick trail with every slow rock of her hips.
"God…" she exhales, eyes half-closed as she rubs herself over you, her clit catching along the length. "Feels so good, even like this."
You groan, gripping her hips, guiding her movements as she slides her pussy up and down your cock, the head pressing against her swollen clit through the barrier of her panties. Each grind leaves her panties sticking tighter to her folds, her wetness spreading more with every pass.
She leans forward, breasts pressing into your chest, whispering in your ear. "You're so hard… I can feel every inch even with these on." She rolls her hips again, rubbing herself faster against you, breath coming in sharp little gasps.
Your self-control snaps. With one swift motion, you grab her by the waist and flip her onto her back. She gasps, startled but thrilled, her hair fanning out against the bed as you settle between her knees.
"Ahh—" she starts, but her voice cracks when your hands push her thighs apart, spreading her wide.
You drag your gaze down. Her panties are soaked, clinging like a second skin, her folds outlined through the thin fabric. The wet patch has grown, dark and shining under the dim light.
"Look at you," you mutter, your voice low. "So damn wet."
Her cheeks flush deep, but she doesn't close her legs. Instead, she pulls them wider, inviting. "Am I?" she whispers.
You sink lower, pressing your face to the heat of her pussy over her panties. She lets out a high gasp as your tongue runs along the damp panties, licking her through it. The taste of her arousal seeps onto your tongue, salty-sweet, addictive.
"Ahh—don't tease," she whines, hips jerking against your mouth.
You grab the waistband, tugging her panties to the side. Her folds glisten in the low light, swollen and dripping, strings of wetness sticking to the fabric. You don't waste a second—your tongue dives in, sliding between her lips, lapping her slickness.
"F-fuck!" she cries out, back arching, her hands clutching the sheets.
You work her steadily, your tongue tracing her slit, flicking over her clit until she's writhing beneath you. You press deeper, sucking her clit into your mouth, rolling it with your tongue until she's moaning shamelessly.
Her thighs clamp around your head, trembling. "Oh god, yes—don't stop, don't stop," she begs, her voice breaking into breathless cries.
Your fingers slide in next, two of them pushing easily into her soaked pussy. She gasps, head falling back, her nails clawing the sheets as you curl inside her, searching until you find the spot that makes her jolt.
"There," she whimpers, eyes squeezing shut. "Right there—"
You work her relentlessly, tongue circling her clit while your fingers pump into her, each thrust wet and noisy. Her juices drip down your hand, slicking your wrist, soaking the sheets beneath her. She's panting hard now, chest heaving, her bra nearly sliding down from how much she's moving.
Her eyes fly open, locking onto yours with raw desperation. "I can't—oh god, I can't hold it—"
You suck harder on her clit, fingers curling deep, and she breaks. Her thighs clamp your head as her body shakes violently, a cry ripping from her throat as her pussy gushes around your fingers. Warm wetness floods your hand, dripping down her thighs, soaking your mouth as you lap it up.
She gasps, twitching, her hands gripping your hair as if anchoring herself. "Oh my god… oh my god…" she repeats, breathless, voice cracking under the waves rolling through her.
You don't stop right away, licking her folds as she rides the high, trembling with aftershocks. She whines weakly, her legs quivering open as you finally slow down, pulling back with your chin glistening.
Her panties are shoved aside, sticking to her thigh, completely ruined with wetness. Her bra is askew, one strap fallen down her arm. She looks wrecked—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like she just ran miles.
When she finds her voice, she lets out a shaky laugh, covering her face with one hand. "You… you're insane."
You crawl back up her body, licking your fingers clean, hovering over her. "You taste too good to stop."
She peeks at you through her fingers, then drops her hand, still flushed but smiling soft and shy. "I… I don't think I can move right now."
You kiss her jaw, her neck, down to her collarbone, letting her recover under you. She's still breathing hard, but her hips shift subtly, pressing up against you again—her soaked pussy brushing your cock, still hard and aching, smeared with both your arousal.
"Then I'll make you stay right here," you whisper, grinding against her folds once more.
Her eyes flutter, her lips part, and she nods faintly. "Do it…"
You sit up just enough to strip the rest of the way, your jeans and boxers hitting the floor in one rough tug. Your cock springs free, flushed, heavy, still slick from Hayoung's spit and the mess she left on your chest earlier. The moment her eyes land on it, her lips part—half in awe, half in disbelief.
"God…" she whispers, cheeks deepening red. "It looks even bigger like this."
You lean down, pressing your mouth to hers, kissing her slow, wet, until she melts again beneath you. While she's distracted, your hands slip to her hips, hooking into the waistband of her soaked panties. You peel them down her thighs, strings of wetness stretching as you tug them away. Finally, you toss them aside, leaving her bare beneath you.
The sight makes your chest tighten. Her pussy glistens under the dim light, folds swollen and flushed, the wetness smeared across her thighs.
"You're beautiful," you murmur, your voice rough with want.
She squirms, embarrassed, but doesn't look away. "Don't… say that when you're staring like that."
"I can't help it," you admit, wrapping your fist around your cock and giving it a slow stroke.
You lower yourself, pressing the tip to her slit. The heat of her makes you groan instantly, even without pushing in. You drag your cock up, sliding along her folds, smearing her wetness across your length. The swollen head nudges her clit before gliding back down, sinking just enough to catch the entrance before pulling away again.
"Ahh—" Hayoung gasps, hips twitching, her hands clutching at your shoulders. "You're teasing me."
"You teased me first," you growl softly, grinding your shaft along her pussy again. The tip catches at her hole each time, slipping in half an inch before sliding back out, wet sounds filling the room. Her folds part around you, hugging your length even without you fully inside.
Her legs wrap around your waist, ankles locking to hold you there. "Don't stop… please."
You line yourself up properly this time, holding her gaze as you press the tip forward. Her walls give easily, already drenched and welcoming, sucking you in slow.
Her mouth falls open, eyes wide. "Oh my god—"
You push deeper, inch by inch, savoring the heat as her pussy stretches around you. She gasps, back arching, nails digging into your skin. "So big… so full already."
You groan, every muscle tense as you fight not to slam in all at once. "Hayoung… fuck, you're so tight."
Finally, with one last slow thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt. Her pussy swallows you completely, walls gripping every vein, every inch. Your hips press flush against hers, your cock seated deep inside her heat.
For a moment, neither of you move. Just the sound of both your ragged breaths, her legs trembling as they cling around you.
She whimpers softly, eyes fluttering. "I can feel… all of you. Every part."
You lower your forehead to hers, kissing her lips gently even as your cock throbs deep inside her. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer, her body opening under yours as she whispers, breathless and shaky, "Move… please, move inside me."
You draw back, just enough to feel her walls clench around the head of your cock, then sink forward again with a hard thrust.
"Ahhh—!" Hayoung cries out, her voice breaking high. The sound is sharp, helpless, filling the room.
You can't hold back anymore. Each stroke is deep, heavy, your hips slamming into her with wet slaps. Her pussy takes you greedily, juices coating your cock, splattering against your thighs with every thrust.
She moans louder with each drive of your hips. "Oh god, oh god—deeper! You're so deep, it's—ahh, it's too much!"
You lower your mouth to her neck, sucking at the soft skin until she gasps. Then you bite lightly, enough to leave a sting. She shudders, clutching the pillow under her head, knuckles white as she tries to anchor herself against the pounding.
Her legs start to falter, trembling around your waist. You grab them, forcing them wider, pressing her knees almost to the bed beneath. Her pussy spreads even more for you, swallowing your cock deeper than before.
She screams your name, head thrashing side to side, hair sticking damp to her forehead. Her bra can barely hold her breasts in place—they sway wildly with every thrust, the straps slipping lower on her shoulders, threatening to give way.
"Yes—yes, right there, don't stop—" she sobs, arching her back. The sight of her body undone under you makes you growl, driving harder, the wet smack of your hips against her ass echoing through the room.
You bend down, your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as your tongue flicks along her skin. You suck harder, biting lightly, marking her as her moans break into choked cries.
The bed rocks with the rhythm. Her armpits are bare, glowing faintly with sweat as her arms clutch the pillow tight, holding on like she'll lose herself without it. She looks wrecked—hair a mess, lips swollen, her chest heaving as your cock drills deeper into her wet heat.
Every thrust makes her pussy squelch louder, her juices dripping down between her ass and pooling beneath her. You can feel her walls tightening, fluttering around you, sucking you in like she never wants to let go.
"God, Hayoung—you're milking me," you groan, slamming into her harder, your grip on her thighs bruising.
"Yes! I love it, I love it—don't stop, please don't stop!" she wails, voice breaking as her pussy clamps down again.
You pull out almost all the way, your cock glistening with her slick, then slam back to the hilt, burying yourself deep in her soaked cunt. Her eyes roll back, her nails tearing into the pillow, her whole body shuddering with the force.
Her breasts bounce in her bra, nipples hard and poking through the damp fabric, each sway more desperate as your thrusts grow frantic. Her mouth falls open, drool spilling from the corner of her lips, her moans raw and messy, no longer controlled.
Every inch of her—her glowing skin, her arched back, her trembling thighs, her broken cries—drives you further into that desperate pace, your cock pistoning in and out, slick and merciless.
She gasps, eyes wide and glassy, her voice strangled between sobs and moans. "I—I can't—oh god, I'm gonna cum—"
You slam harder, widening her legs further, your hands holding her thighs apart as you pound into her, burying yourself over and over, while your mouth stays latched to her neck, biting, sucking, marking her yours.
Her body jerks beneath you, trembling like she can't contain it anymore. Her pussy tightens so hard around your cock it almost locks you in place.
"Ahhh—ahhh, I'm cumming!" Hayoung cries out, voice breaking into high sobs. Her thighs clamp around your waist for a moment, then fly open again when you drive deeper, your grip holding her legs apart.
The wet sound between you turns frantic—her pussy clenching and fluttering, juices gushing out with every thrust. The bed sheets beneath her are soaked, slick spreading over your thighs as she loses control.
Her orgasm rips through her, back arching high, her bra slipping down enough to bare one perfect breast that bounces with every spasm. She claws the pillow to her chest, knuckles white, screaming your name as her walls milk you mercilessly.
You grit your teeth, thrusting through her release, the tightness dragging you to the edge. Your cock throbs, swelling, ready to burst.
"Fuck, Hayoung—I'm gonna cum!" you growl, pulling back one last time.
You pull your cock out and stroke it with rough pumps. The orgasm tears through you, and you groan deep, hot ropes spilling out. Thick strands spatter across her belly, some landing higher—on her ribs, across her breast, one shot streaking up to her collarbone before dripping down.
She gasps at the heat, staring wide-eyed at the mess pooling in the dip of her navel, streaking down her skin. Her fingers slide to it without thinking, smearing some across her belly, sticky between her fingers.
Your chest heaves as you watch her—her body trembling in the aftermath, breasts still heaving, bra pushed askew, her pussy still glistening and twitching between her open thighs.
Finally, she looks up at you with that dazed, fucked-out smile. "You… made such a mess."
You lean down, kissing her forehead gently, sweat dripping from your temples. "Worth it."
She giggles weakly, still breathless, hand brushing through your damp hair. "You ruined me tonight."
"Ruined good, right?" you tuck your head to her shoulder, and she nod, approval mark that she's satisfied.
In an ironic twist, I managed to write romance fluff again—and it ended up longer than any smut I have released so far since starting this writing marathon. Pressure's on me to make a better smut off this one! Warning: May or may not be a very cheesy and corny, though I think this flowed better than Minju's romance. Also my first time titling something after a song in a while, this case: Sakanaction's Shintakarajima. Go give them a listen afterwards!
No smut here, not yet. Sorry.
9,457 words of fluff for Yamada Kaede.
Tokyo is a metropolis. However, such was not the most astute or original observation of the world's largest city. It does evoke a sense of scale when coming down from a trans-Pacific flight. I felt slightly cold from being in an Airbus for almost a day. It was a quiet, large plane with a big seat, but it was still quite tiring even if I was sedentary the whole time. By now, I had forgotten that as the plane descended, it was turning to slot itself into the approach path. Looking out, that wonder of seeing the city never left. Yet such is speaking from a perspective of a privileged life. I was lucky, and cherished it more this time around. Even if the Skytree and the Tower were the only things I could make out on the horizon of lights, slowly being undone with their buildings slowly coming to view as the skies began to color with the long sunrise. Though I could only say as much, pardon the long prose, because it had been almost a year and two months since I had seen that view.
The airliner shook a bit as we touched down, and upon getting off, I thought that Haneda was a little colder than I remembered, walking to the baggage counter, eating a stale, half-cold bread in hand. It took me some time to truly wake up, having had the immigration officer repeat herself. I almost embarrassed myself by putting too little force on my large, single piece of luggage that I rented. Though the one I owned followed, half the weight of the first, soon after. Pushing out from the carousel, my brain had already figured I was walking again and carried me onto the monorail platform. The sun was out now, with an interim breakfast, a warm curry pan, on one hand. The best part about coming home was not needing to line up where most visitors did, but on the other hand, I was home again, just not quite.
The monorail ride was quiet, leaning and falling asleep against the window. There was not much to be noted as we passed by and into Minato, as it bustled somewhat, though there was much to be said that I just hadn't slept enough. Though yes, I did look forward to riding the Shinkansen home, I should remember it was a shorter, blue and white train. Perhaps the excitement of heading home spirited me away to its dark-colored, cushioned seat. I only gained some awareness back to buy myself a bento before I made a beeline for the platform, having singlemindedly pushed through the crowds on the busy local trains and the station itself. As other people were going to work or school, perhaps begrudgingly or silently sulking, I was looking forward to rest. After a bit, the train left the station, watching the people turn from clearly defined shapes to a blur as the car's electric motors rushed to speed. Not minding the announcements, a little ruffle of plastic later, the chopstick packet's ripping, and lifting a lid, I chowed down on my first proper meal for the day. By Saitama, I found myself quite bored, though sleepy. One more month before we head back to Tokyo to study, though for my case, a homecoming was due.
When I woke up, on instinct, my ears perked up at two words, first being “arriving,” and second, home, “Toyama.”
I got off the Shinkansen a little past two hours after I boarded it, the sun almost at its height. Being one of the longer stops, I did not need to hurry pulling my things off the rack. Walking to the elevator, the humidity struck me, yet where I came from, now I would not complain of summers here being “too hot” while I took a swig and got rid of my bottle. Being welcomed again by the folks back home was an expectedly small but warm reception. I was glad to be told we were heading to my favorite restaurant, a small mom-and-pop place. Last I saw, I still used a taped, handwritten menu for my homecoming lunch. I know that internally, I felt like a kid again getting my curry slid my way, maybe local beer for myself too. Something must be said about food always tasting better after you’ve missed it for so long.
Getting back at home, my bed was just as I remembered it, save for it feeling a little softer than I remembered; the shelf and table, I could tell, were just quickly dusted off. I might clean it later, hopefully when the jetlag leaves me. The next thing I could remember was snuggling in, having used the last of my willpower to change into pajamas and jam the A/C on its highest setting. Stirring out of bed, it was dark, my sense of time got its bearings, and I guessed it was past midnight. I got my phone and checked, 00:25, correct. Checking some messages, I had a lockscreen to play post office with. With my best Solid Snake impression as I tried not to creak the staircase, looking at my phone, I filtered in my head who I would reply to first. Mostly, my closest friends welcomed me back; some replied to my Instagram story, and others used LINE. My stomach was first telling me about itself, so I dragged myself out of bed and checked the refrigerator, deciding to throw mabodofu over rice and stick it in the microwave. I beat the timer at least, and sat down to eat, spoon in hand, I started to reply. One of my friends had quite the proposition for me in hand.
[You want to go to our high school’s summer festival?]
I don’t have bad memories of high school. But it had only been two years since we all left for Tokyo. My curiosity got the better of me, but I was down for it.
[Sounds nice, but why?]
Hm? I was surprised to see he was actually typing an answer.
[Everybody from our class is going to be there.]
I do miss our own school festivals. University, here and abroad, seemed to just feel like networking events, almost like a conference of nervous young adults, or wild parties that can empty the social battery out of anybody. Eating something spicy to wake myself up, though, was always something I did. Though maybe I was just missing, instead, aching to do something worth my while before the semester starts again.
[Everybody?] I asked.
There were thirty of us from our class. No, a group I could count on my fingers was not “everybody.”
[Eh, maybe? I have seen some of the girls, those that left for Osaka, at least, even the ones that went for Hokkaido are here, must be hotter there than here, wwww]
I laughed to myself. Alright, he doesn’t lie too much. I took a spoonful, thinking, before typing.
[When is it?]
[Two days from now.] So, on Thursday.
He added that another friend of ours, from the same neighborhood and class, should go as a quartet. The boys from the same ward are still moving as a squad. I gave my commitment then. I wasn’t feeling the jet lag so much after I finished the dishes, feeling a bit sentimental at how fast time had passed since we were the students staying up this late just to prepare or practice. Time does go by. Going up, I could only unpack the larger bag, only then did I feel like sleeping again. Jumping into bed without as much as closing it, I could afford to wake up late anyway.
Daytime, well, the afternoon, was a jog and a half down by the Jōganji, though the sun was already setting when I got back. I did see two of my friends on the walk back, perhaps with my music down lower now, even the konbini clerk was a junior of mine, all being familiar tones. I did think someone was calling to me when I was jogging down an incline, though my head was turned to the stream, watching the sun reflect off the water, and my ears were being blasted to keep my spirits up. I guess we would have to see each other tomorrow, whoever that was. Trying to guess who that was, I was not exactly satisfied with myself, when, having been so long, some voices I just couldn’t remember or put a face to. Though I didn’t lose sleep over trying, I forgot it as soon as I turned the shower off, and I readied for the rest of the night.
We were late the next morning. I was arrogant to think I could get rid of the jet lag by the morning. Waking up to several missed calls from my friends, the three of us who lived in the same neighborhood. I slide my window to see them yelling at me to get ready. Yelling back, I told them to go ahead, and I would just follow. They know I was not going under the sun without preparing myself.
We were about an hour off from our target time when I ran out, stepping on my right sneaker to force my foot in. There was much to be said about how, here, even the train schedules were more laid back, the intervals long enough to strike a conversation even as we waited for the local train. Friends we were, the topics ranging from what the weather was like abroad, to how different—but also similar—people were to us back home.
Getting off the train, our campus was in a quieter part of town, not terribly far from the center. Yet we, the alumni, felt more festive than the students of the same school walking on the other side of the street. It could only be that they were pretty tired, or bored, or maybe we were just happy to be back. Then we met another one of our classmates coming from the other way. They were a bit busy talking amongst themselves. At the same time, I found myself just scanning the neighborhood again, only to feel that instinct to turn my head and see someone I know. She saw us first and called us. If I had doubts about people attending and if she could come back from as far as Asahikawa, there might be a chance that “everybody will be here.”
Going inside, it was the usual fare of a school festival. When we turned the gate, an array of booths already greeted us. Being student-run, I found that most booths were food stalls, though there was an odd console-game booth and a face-painting booth. Some matches were being played on the oval, though the diamond where we tried to be puro yakyū smelled more like yakitori and frying than teenagers yelling. We were told that the other girls were on the other side, and our only lady wanted to go left. Yet we protested and went to the left, where the scent of food wafted; none of us boys had breakfast yet.
Diverting from them, we promised her to give us thirty minutes before we all went and saw each other. Walking right into the crowd, some of whom may have been our batchmates, a senior or junior. Seeing students made me think if mine still fit, maybe, just maybe, it became a little larger for me. Though such reminiscing left me once I started to slurp out of the styrofoam bowl, my buddy next to mine caught my sigh after it. Asking me why, I told him.
“It feels odd to be back.”
“Oh, sentimental so early?”
“It’s just because it’s been a while,” I said, “Things have happened.”
“You saw your old crush, then?” He said, laughing at me. I did. Though she, unnamed, was just that, a schoolboy’s hormone-charged fantasy. Yet, even as I laughed in reply, he still wasn’t right.
“Maybe it’s just because I went abroad. I missed home.”
“I remember seeing it somewhere, some English show,” he began, then pretty much caught himself trying to think too hard before returning his attention to his gyūdon, able to spit it out after chewing halfway, “Absence makes the heart grow…softer?”
He was just about right, swapping out the word for a synonym. The correct word to the adage was fonder. I agreed with him, then the spotlight of our meal conversation soon floated elsewhere. After that, we walked by the sakuras, without their blossoms this time of year, to the small square tables, where the girls and the other half of the boys were. Some of them had their backs turned to us, and the others, even from the side of their faces, I could recognize by name. A few of them greeted us quite later than the rest, as there were around twenty people alone. The last one was a girl.
They called her attention, and only then did I get her name back: Yamada, Kaede. She was not particularly tall, and I remembered her hair being shorter. She did look better—though to be fair, we all did as we grew up—from the last time I saw her. What else could I remember about her other than her dancing, being the vice captain of the dance club after all. After I had exchanged my greetings with everybody else, she came to me, and after the usual polite pleasantries, asked.
“Were you outside yesterday afternoon?” she asked. I confirmed it, “Yeah, I was jogging.”
“Eh, so it was you I was calling to yesterday?!” Kaede chimed, smiling. She had never seen me doing it, simply because when I started, I would jog a bit after dinner. “You had a cap on, right?”
“Yeah! Oh, so that was you!” I replied, maybe a little too loudly. Finally, that was mysterious, well, not exactly, caller. I think I heard a bike too before that. I asked
“And you were on a bike?” I asked. Kaede confirmed herself. Somehow, I thought it was an older family friend calling me.
Beyond that, I just caught up with her. I was not particularly close to her, thinking she was pretty timid, sometimes lively, and very competitive. She was not one to give up her advantage where she could if it came down to it. She was much of the former, a group player, and smart off the stage. It did not surprise me that she was also on vacation from Tokyo, helping part-time at the store near her house. However, her days off had her going out with her girlfriends, which is the usual story for everybody. Though I had kept in contact with her and the rest of us, it was cordial.
Before, beyond our classroom, I would just see her walking home from their dance practice at the gym. Other times, our friend group would go out, her best friend being the girlfriend of one of mine. Sometimes I saw her study at last light on the bleacher close to the gate, given that our old library was on the top floor. I was trying my best as a catcher at our campus' diamond. I never even decided to try out, but I apparently did well enough to not lose our class' title. We were all moving as a group while that went on. While she kept to her group, I kept my attention on my guy friends, being the trailing group as we stopped at almost every booth that caught somebody's interest. Passing by, someone even inserted an all-boys plan to go camping by next week, perhaps driven by the nostalgia of another being a former camping club member. I forgot there seemed to be clubs for all kinds of things, and the slower pace of just being up for everything was something I welcomed.
The rest of the day was quite a blur. High on nostalgia, even if it had not been so long since we all left, we grabbed lunch at the same family restaurant we often ate at after school. Yet the ramen I had tasted was slightly different, though not worse. Maybe because it was now the son, a senior of ours, who was running the place. After that, we just hung out on campus, going around and playing with the booths to pass our time, maybe eating just a bit too much along the way. In the late afternoon, I squatted on the oval with a catcher's mitt. However, it was just us wanting to play catch while looking casual, and out of place, and I managed anyway.
By the time the students had packed into the gym for their concert, we all decided it was probably time to leave. Packing into an izakaya, two of them, as the way we were mixed had the girls evenly split with the boys, the others going to the one next door. I sat just behind the sliding door, next to my old seatmate. Before we knew it, after several skewers and bowls of rice, someone had the drinks brought out. Given that this was the first time we had seen each other, I was glad I took more than my usual ration of rice. Several skewers later, and being a light drinker, I was satisfied with just a few cans. Admittedly, the two shots of saké, my first time in almost a year, burned, the sensation of which took some time to leave my throat. Some of us stumbled out, maybe to catch a smoke, and others, already hobbling, pale, with their eyes droopy, left with a buddy to help themselves. They probably just threw up, then came back. However, at one instance, I caught Kaede whispering with her best friend, catching them just as they both glanced my way. She was shy when my gaze caught hers, though I didn't think much of it as I returned my attention to my now-drunk seatmate, almost pushing a shot glass to my face, insistent.
“One more!”
I took it, toasted to him, cursing under my breath, and with the same, thanked Buddha. I was not drunk yet, then I shut my eyes and threw my head back. It burned. In a moment, I was tipsy and thought that better be my last shot of liquor. He cheered, much to his now drunken excitement. However, it never left my mind that Kaede seemed to want to ask me something. I just needed to excuse myself, and after talking to him for a while, he was starting to doze off, his top half swinging like a harbor buoy before excusing himself, and finally, at the moment he slid the door shut, he wretched and spilled himself onto the canal. I was more fortunate to hold out and not feel like throwing up. A bit dazed, I could feel it leave me as soon as I was done with my business, though everybody was now slowly hobbling out of the small izakaya. As we were, the slow line made it feel like Comiket. Stumbling outside, I just passed my old seatmate into the charge of his neighbor, another classmate of mine, a girl who always had a passing interest in him. He was too drunk to do anything, now having a spiraling headache.
Giving him my goodbyes, I sent him off. Among the four of us who had left the house twelve hours ago, three were sober enough, and the other needed a lift as he had fallen asleep, drunk. When we argued about who would carry our sorry lad home, a small voice called me.
I turned around to see Kaede, who was a bit red like me. Though in comparison, she looked much better than I did, her shifting big eyes made her fidgety. She had a stain from her friend, the same seatmate she had, falling forward onto her. Poor woman. Almost stumbling over her words, she started.
“Hey, um, so you’re the only person I know not working a summer job now, but,” she stammered on, her fingers fidgeting against her bag strap, “You have a car, right?”
I must have been mistaken to think she was completely sober.
"My dad has a long-term rental, yeah."
"Eh…can you drive me to Kurobe?" Huh? It was quite far. Around an hour if I don't speed. I would not turn it down, as I haven't been there long. Kaede added that it was just a day's drive since she had a curfew. It was a bit old-fashioned, outdated even, but she reasoned for herself well enough. She claimed it was an errand, a big, plastic ice chest that needed a trunk to load into, too difficult to carry by train or bus, and sparing her the job of arguing with or paying a fee to railway staff. For some reason, I presumed it was caught fish, or something of the sort. I asked her again.
"You really don't know anybody else?" I thought to switch it around, last chance, "I mean, no problem. You don't have a license?"
"Nope," Kaede blunted back, and before she began to overexplain herself, I was slowly nodding. Then, only then, I remembered. Who, what, where, why, how, and I haven't even asked her when.
It was, supposedly, just the day after the camping trip. I just let her drone for a bit, then agreed to her baitō for me.
"Alright, just tell me what time."
"I'll see you on Friday then," Kaede said before greeting me goodbye. I almost did not notice she had her hand out from her pocket after she bowed to me. I shook it; her hands were much softer than mine, and smelled less like alcohol, too. She must have wrapped it on her handkerchief. Though the idea of whether it was so or not left me the moment my drunken friend woke up a bit and started mumbling. Getting him water from the konbini before we turned into his street, the whole quartet that left the same morning looked like we were disposing of somebody as we carried him, swung over the largest one of us, and dropped him off. We all scrambled back after that, which was the end of the day. I fell asleep without changing out of my clothes, waking up slightly sweaty just before everybody else in the house.
Taking my time in the shower, I thought of the plans that had sprung up. The first trip made sense, the second I just shrugged off.
"You have done this before." I thought while brushing my teeth. Even the girl who lived down the street had me play courier for her parents' store before; they did pay me some. Though nothing much came of it, except once. Both of us had just turned eighteen. She still looks shyly at me sometimes when we pass each other. Suddenly, coming home felt like becoming an errand delivery boy again. However, I felt I had no real reason to refuse either. It was either dooming myself to boredom or experiencing something new in the summer; what fickle youthfulness.
Yet, falling asleep just as the first light came up on Friday, the week seemed longer than it should. I even saw Kaede, once, on the shōtengai, both of us with a parent. Little did we know they had been acquainted by attending the same Sunday prayer meeting. I just quizzed mine over lunch with poor knowledge of my Sunday teachings. I was glad it was not some shinshūkyō. Beyond pretending to be cardinal, Kaede had also talked to me when they were, and being alone, she was more casual on a Sunday, yet still a bit shy. Politely, she noted after getting a good look at me.
"I could not say it, but you were smaller than I remembered."
Small talk was not my strong suit. The best I could conjure as a compliment was something along the lines of just echoing it to her. Though I did it to stroke her ego, it came out a bit vague.
"You look much better than I."
Kaede just shyly laughed, brushing it off like I had. Moving the conversation onward was a back-and-forth about how we had worked on ourselves for the time. Before she took after her mom, she came close and told me, her face was serious, almost at a whisper.
“Hey, don’t forget about Kurobe, okay?”
I just nodded, “Just tell me when.”
Following her mom, I wondered if she must have thought I would just bail on her. Yet, I was looking forward to it too—if she was, at least. It was getting to my head when she stared at me, her eyes, noticeably bigger than most, looked back with bayonets, with a curiosity to them.
My friends and I had our hike the morning after. Packing into a small kei van, we left it at the parking area and hiked the trail. A quiet, local spot, it was an easy one. Keeping our early lunches down, we barely had broken into a sweat when we arrived half past twelve. Splitting up, the three of us hiked several hundred meters more off-trail, led by our friend. We bantered along the way, thinking we would end up overlooking Tokyo since we changed direction, the polite “we got lost,” twice. Somehow, we arrived in time to view Toyama Bay in the last light of sunset, which was the best part of it. Behind our trio were the higher, snow-covered peaks for which our light clothes would be a little match. Just a little more than five minutes at the top, making our way down, we encountered deer doing the same thing, quite the sight. When we returned, the six-pack of beer we were carrying was already swimming in the icebox, and the skewers over the makeshift grill, a one-man operation.
Late in the evening, the group was once again split up. Two were in their tents, sleeping, while another friend and I were finishing the last of the cans. Our conversation had gone off the deep end; he was one of the few who did not decide to skip town, though he held no regrets about it. The more I talked, the more I thought I had sufficiently enjoyed myself abroad, though not recklessly. Steering into relationships, he was seeing somebody, a girl from Tokyo who hailed from Kurobe. Poking at him, I remarked.
“Don’t you get tired going back and forth?”
“She helps me take a long nap before I go!” He replied, both of us laughing. Taking a swig from his can, he caught me in the middle of mine when he asked.
“Oh, yeah, what’s up with you and Kaede?”
I remember him being a little tipsier than I, but he helped carry our passed-out buddy. Tipsy people can remember.
“She just asked me to do an errand,” I replied, “Asked me to drive her around.”
“I see, I’m quite surprised she asked you.”
“Eh? Why so?” I asked. I did not think much of it. I was aware Kaede was prettier now. I already told her that yesterday. Yet there was nothing to note, nothing off-beat about who she was now.
“She was looking for you a while back…”
I turned to face him, taking the last swig as he began. This better not be something corny, I thought. He took a deep breath. Oh, god.
“Probably just wanted me to-”
“There was a rumor, well, a secret, she told my girlfriend,” my friend wasn’t stopping, “Kaede had an interest in you.”
“Eh?!” I cried out, then laughed. That’s not true. He could tell it in my face while I rolled my eyes in disbelief, and he tried to press.
“Maybe that was some time ago,” I added with suspicion. He never mentioned a timeline.
“Well, yes. I thought it sounded better saying it in person.”
“You should update your information then,” I replied. But, if he would tattletale to his girlfriend, who might spill it to Kaede. I might as well say something. Careful now; I would not want my passenger staring daggers at me in two days. My brain tried to think at its most sober, eyes trained far to the horizon.
“Well, it was a had,” I blinked. Thinking about it. An honest answer was at hand, and I needed to keep it short, yet I gave myself away a bit, “I wouldn’t have minded it too.”
“Honestly, you do look good together.” He remarked. I looked annoyed again, not even turning red, just confused. I swatted my friend on the back as our banter continued.
After that, we switched to another topic. Yet I felt somehow tense during that one conversation. I found myself wondering about it before I fell asleep. I had the slightest inkling even a few years back, yet it was that, a passing guess. I had somebody else just before we all left. In addition, I was never really someone who was known, nor overly self-assured, an amateur on social fronts, who may be able to differentiate between when the girls were trying to flirt or just mess around with me. Come to think of it, yet to not sound apathetic—Kaede was not so bad.
The next morning. All of us woke up just in time to see the sunrise. The sun was high enough to make a break for the summit not worthwhile, and we just made do with the morning light rising over the mountain range. By now, out of money, we all had instant noodles before we had our final pictures, cleaned up, and went down. To think we all just did that once before as high schoolers. Then again, as sophomores. Having not had enough, we went out again in the evening, packing into a van for seafood by the beachfront this time.
Before I knew it. It was Kurobe day. Grabbing a heated sandwich, I got in the car and drove towards Kaede’s house, munching on it at the stoplights. I was on the last bite when I turned onto her street. Opening the door, her greeting was formal enough, with a box beside their gate that she asked to put. As she had told me, she put the chest out in the trunk, though I was worried for a second it wouldn’t fit. Once we got going, though, I made her giggle when I played taxi driver. Too corny, I thought. It took a while before we were on the ramp of the expressway. We both knew it would be a long ride, so I might as well lighten it up.
Holding a steady seventy-five, the conversation began. This was probably the first time I had Kaede close to me since we left this town. I learned much about what she had been up to, having gone to her second choice university instead of the first, where I was. Even there, she had gotten into the dance troupe again, though she found her program a little difficult, while working weekends at some place near Ota. For the summer, she was a shrine maiden. However, a common topic between us was how I secured an exchange program abroad. Yet I might have dashed her hopes by saying that learning a foreign language besides our barebones English education was quite the chore.
That’s how I entertained her for half of the ride. It made me miss being abroad a bit, though. While I was there, I missed Toyama and Tokyo in equal measure. Yet Kaede was more attracted to the fact that, where I was, I just seemed to enjoy the whole year I was out. While I failed to mention how it had much more rigorous instruction than whatever I had experienced so far, or that social rules were still rules over there.
“It’s a mix of both. Throw your preconceptions out the door, so you just enjoy yourself.”
I asked her if Kaede wanted to grab something, and I was glad to hear she was hungry too. Skipping the first gas station, we went to the rest stop, with her heading to the konbini. I told her to just get me anything, yet I was handed the sandwich, the simple ham cutlet, that I liked most on their shelves. Having forgotten about it, I found my eyes drifting at the first bite, and I just had to ask how she knew it was so before leaving. Her answer left me quiet, staring to her side, almost forgetting to merge.
"I remember you've been buying that one since high school."
Maybe I was thinking too much about it. She was correct, yet with how many times I ate it, the packaging was still distinct enough. I just had to ask how.
"When I walked in every morning, you usually ate that when you sat down, didn't you?"
I confirmed, adding. Heck, even while walking up the stairs, "this one and the chicken and egg sando."
Kaede was proud of herself, with a sly smile when I glanced. Once we got back on the expressway, she broke the ice first. Suddenly, she asked about my dating life. I did a bit to divert it elsewhere, but came clean and told her I had seen my fair share. A few of which I had done a little more with. She let out this shy, silly laugh, hearing about the latter and knowing the implication, while not helping her reputation as a quiet, inward lady. Alright, then, it was my turn to ask.
Kaede was a bit shy at first, but I was able to get through to her. Gossip was the old way of doing things, though an exposé was too much to expect.
"I have seen a few guys," she said, "Often just on first dates, someone got to second, then he ghosted me," then her tone shifted, "One got drunk over dinner and tried to drag me into a love hotel…"
From her tone, she was not a fan of it. Then I remembered, it was a point of discussion back up at the mountain, though, admitting myself guilty of it just once, I repeated my point to clarify intent.
"I mean, you did say you just wanted a date, right?" trying not to make it awkward, "So, what did you do?"
"I slapped him," Kaede responded, "Twice. My hands got a bit sore."
Otters still fight back, after all.
“I can’t even imagine an angry Kaede. I guess it’s a good thing.”
She just laughed from her side. Since then, she just went out with her girl friends. Another gossip trail started from there, though after that, the conversation drifted into the more mundane. But still, Kaede was the same all these years. She was always thinking of her words, and her eyes, when not on me, would somewhat wander, thinking of the next thing to say, any louder, and the music would drown her voice out easily.
That made the two hours seem a little too easy. By then, I hadn’t even asked what the errand was about. It was a simple one: Kaede was tasked to pick up fish, and leaving our car, we did not even last more than ten minutes at the fishport, not counting a diversion to eat some sashimi, though she was insistent on getting some shellfish too. The latter were not particularly my type, but all I ate dutifully.
A more professional Kaede emerged when we got to the vendor she was looking for. Being able to get what she was asked for at a hundred yen less, then a loaded icebox with two baskets worth of fish inside later, and the only thing left to do was drive back. Though compared to Toyama, there was one glaring problem with Kurobe—a stereotypical countryside city—there was simply nothing else to do in a day.
“Maybe we should go to the beach,” Kaede suggested. It was on our horizon, but was still a walk away. I agreed with her, and we started walking to the shoreline. I didn’t know where to place my hands, nor did she. Though it was a particularly warm mid-morning, we could hear the breeze from the west, which made it a little cooler. The silence bothered me quite a bit, from shuffling steps to waiting silently at the stoplights. I do not remember who started it, but it was an innocent question.
“You don’t go out to the shoreline much?”
“Not really. It’s quite boring when you’re alone.”
Such a sentiment was true after all. Walking out when the tide is rolling in and one is treated to the sound of the waves. Asking introverts to do small talk always meant random conversations. That question kept both of us company, only a few inches apart, Kaede’s hand on her bag strap, and so did I, yet I found myself doing something I haven’t done in a while. Usually, I couldn’t give less of a damn as a fast walker. However, slowing down when walking is normal, yet I found myself throttling back to match her pace, listening. I asked and added some experiences of my own, noticing how her hands would articulate when she talked about how much she loved going to the beach. Yet she couldn’t hide her excitement behind her eyes, and how glad she was that the weather turned out fine. When we were walking to the last crosswalk, the busiest, she turned the conversation towards me. She sounded slightly tense when she said, “I’m quite happy you brought me out here, too.”
“I’m just helping my friends out,” I replied.
Kaede then said something silly. Her eyes looked side to side as a sly smile curled her lips, before she leaned in and blurted, “Aren’t you worried someone might see us?”
“I think there’s nothing to worry about.”
Then, Kaede did something unexpected, but not out of the books. The countdown of the crosswalk had just begun. I just looked around while the digital number counted down from thirty, and even if there had only been three trucks and one car waiting, we just had to wait. Still standing beside her, my hand was in my pocket, having worn a looser pair of pants. Come to think of it, we were matching, except she had lighter colors and a long, light coat over herself. She then linked her arm around mine.
I turned, shocked, just as Kaede tugged me towards her, flashing a smile, her eyes included. She was averting her gaze but laughing as I felt her tap her head on my shoulder. She tried to keep herself looking straight, but hid her laugh and giggling while my mouth was just in shock. Though I can't help but pull at her too. I think both of us were searching for our words, the whiplash of a high school friend suddenly linking her arms with mine, and not just in a joking, juvenile manner, like how it was then. I was not going to overreact, as there was still no problem to be found, and this was neither our first time dating, especially with her, but only couples do this! Did I miss a hint? I couldn't figure out for the life of me whether I should cuss or not, and I just ended up with.
"Eh?!"
"Are you worried now?" Kaede asked cheekily. I needed to gather myself.
"Hm, of course not."
"Would you have said yes if I told you I wanted to do this?" she tugged again at my arm.
I remembered what my friend had told me on our outing. Like any intelligence method, his transferred intelligence was wrong: Kaede still held her interest, and I had just been outmaneuvered. No confrontation, yet her surprise. The crosswalk then turned green, and I began to walk in step. I answered her.
"I wouldn't have said no either way."
Kaede just smiled at my answer. Vindicated. Perhaps I had been a bit dense, though I had become quite used to playing the role of driver. One of my friends even joked that he missed how easy it was to get me to agree to do it, provided they paid the gas. Though we were quiet once again, arms linked, the shoreline, a rocky beach, was visible now. Trying to distract myself with the waves, loud, crashing, and foaming as they rolled over the stones. It was not enough to leave me wondering why Kaede didn't just directly ask me out last week. Why now, during summer break? The answers to those had to wait.
Descending the stairs, with Kaede a bit ahead, it only took a few steps before the crunch of the beach greeted us. Being relatively high in the morning, the sun neared its zenith, and barely anybody else was outside. She then took off and jogged ahead of me, hearing her giddy as I slowly followed, my pace still the same as the pebbles grinded under my soles. She only stopped to drop her jacket, fold her pants past her knees, take off her socks, and put them back inside her shoes. Finally, she looked back at me with a wide smile as she tied her hair. I just waved, still following as she carefully stepped into the water.
Standing beside her shoes, I contemplated following Kaede into the knee-deep ocean. Turning around to face me, she beckoned. So I did, placing my things beside hers. Barefoot, the cold water on my toes made me slightly shudder as I walked towards her. A wave came in, making me stop to check if my pants were wet too. She had her hands out for me as I closed the distance. I told her as soon as I knew she could hear me.
“If this is your idea of a first date, it’s new.”
When I got to Kaede, she embraced me. I let out a yelp as she almost threw me off balance. She was laughing at me when I put my arm around her shoulder. Holding her, she was quiet. I thought it should not be a difficult question to answer.
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted to go on a date?”
Kaede then put her lips together, licked her lips, and then sighed. Perhaps not as easy an answer. I must have come off as confused or even a little mad. It got her really thinking for a clear answer.
“I don’t really know, I haven’t done this in so long. It’s difficult dating in the city,” mirroring my words, “I already knew you well enough, and felt just a bit more ready to ask you out, and then you left.”
I then asked Kaede why now, during the summer break. Despite us sometimes seeing each other in Tokyo when our friend groups would go out, she was just warm and cordial, but not flirty. Yet, I braced for an excuse that might translate to a casual affair. Maybe I was getting cold feet while standing in cold water. Yet, as if straightening her back, she took a deep breath and stood firm on herself.
“You came back, I thought when you were leaving to study. You were migrating abroad.” Kaede’s tone was low, her voice shaking slightly, recalling her misheard take, like whispering some sad secret, “You just happened to come back during summer. I did not want to regret not asking you, so please don’t mistake me for something casual.”
It was a better confession from Kaede than most. It moved me a bit, almost losing myself staring at her. All that hidden when she never even made a pass at me the moment she saw me. Giving her a good look, I often think I knew when people lied, that I had forgotten when someone wasn’t. I just held her a bit closer after that, gently rubbing at her arm, with my words coming after.
“If that’s what you want, I won’t make you regret it.”
We just stood there, together, for those few minutes. Silently watching the waves roll in, their white tops rolling just before us, with our feet cold and wet, the slow breeze on our faces. Facing the ocean, an uncertain horizon stretched endlessly to a faraway land. We both understood the facing of a certain, honest commitment to it all. If you want to play the long game with someone, first, you need to hold them close. Kaede had bided her time, and I was not about to run now. Weighing upon what I had just said scared me somewhat, blurring the line where a relationship felt less like an arrangement, but more of a charge into something we must’ve thought we understood as friends. It was as if the ocean called us to swim out towards it. Though maybe, in a sense, we truly were swimming into the more unknown.
There was no need for overt realization, just the profound realization of an attempt at us. Then Kaede asked—and snapped us out—another innocent question, “You want to go eat?”
Agreeing, I hugged her before we walked back toward the shore. Only when picking up our things did we realize that our feet were wet, and nobody had a towel. Being a hot day, we did not want to waste money buying a towel at a stall. The next best choice was to sit and wait for our feet to dry enough. Making our way towards the seawall barefoot, our steps marking on the pavement, we sat down. Now I wanted something, so I turned to Kaede and invited.
“You know what, maybe let’s just get ice cream for now.”
Now it was my turn to remember what ice cream Kaede liked. At the freezer, I didn’t feel pressured looking for her jumbo choco monaka, which, next to my garigari-kun bar looked particularly mismatched. Paying for it, she was on her phone as I approached, but lifted her head up, and was happy when I handed her an ice cream bar.
“Now we’re even,” Kaede cheekily remarked as we opened it. Sitting beside her, we just stared, but probably had some small talk as we licked away at our untimely dessert, though for the melting, we both had tissues for that. Soon, we got our shoes back on, without direction, walking beside the beach, and being in a seaside town, remembering from our earlier sideshow to our own errand. We agreed that maybe it was time for seafood.
We settled down at the restaurant. When I let Kaede have the okazu first, I told her that I found it funny that we were dining together for a different reason now. She admitted that she felt the same, but we both were getting a kick out of it. Facing her seafood ramen, I had magurodon. However, she got shocked and called me out for my love for wasabi, which I put into almost every bite as I quickly finished it. Lunch took longer, or it just felt so, than it had been on most days. Maybe I was just enjoying it. The present meant that I had less to guess when it came down to her.
It was already early in the afternoon when we stepped out, as the shoji door clicked behind us, Kaede suggested we make our way towards the small town mall. Even if we were running quite low on cash, I guess her appetite for adventure wasn’t satisfied yet. Letting her take me wherever, we found ourselves reading at a secondhand bookstore, despite not having the money or need to buy anything. All that included the spontaneous mundaneity of having fun with friends; were we still? However, at her insistence, I gave in and bought the third book I was reading.
Almost in tow to her at a small specialty store, and while we were deciding behind a shelf, basket in hand, whether or not to buy the matcha ice cream from the counter. Here I thought she had no more cash, and I lightly insisted against it despite having had one earlier. I got a call, and I was never really a fan of it. She knew our time today was almost up. It was my dad, and with the car a fifteen-minute walk away, I knew what that meant. Saying my goodbyes, I glanced at the time, then looked at Kaede.
“Well, they want me to bring the car back.”
“When?”
“Now, they need it by 6pm.”
Though before she could say anything more, “Oh, you win, here, just use this.” I handed Kaede my last five-thousand bill. I thought that if she was getting one, I was too. We walked out of there with her having the bigger cone, yet still she wanted to put her spoon in mine. Strolling, I matched paces with her, arms linked in march. I told her we would be seeing the sundown from the road back, and that led us to the konbini again, buying chips for ourselves within eyeshot of the car. That made a fifteen-minute walk twenty-five as I started the car again. Crossing the first stoplight and seeing the on-ramp, I thought today couldn’t end like this.
“Are you free for dinner, then?”
“I thought you had no more money?” Kaede asked.
“I have to drop the car off at home,” I began, pausing to look at the side mirror, before finishing, “that only means I could get more money.”
A quick glance at Kaede had her agreeing. Making herself comfortable, I drove onward, though it did not take long before I heard her rummaging through the plastic. A pop of chips later, and to keep me company, she talked to me, though occasionally her hand fed me while I kept my eyes on the road, going just a little faster than earlier. Sometimes, however, my eyes would dart to the sunset. The expressway, only going over rice fields on this side of Nihon, had no noise barriers, essentially, no walls to obstruct the view of the ocean.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Kaede remarked. Feeling her looking at me, I just nodded and agreed with her. I told her I did not have to worry about leaving her when the break ends, getting all bashful when I mentioned that while our campus in Tokyo was quite far, our own dormitories were somewhere midway. The thought excited her. Under orange skies slowly turning purple, I drove to Toyama, arriving slightly later than six. An extra detour to their house to drop the ice chest, I thought I would have to walk to her first, though I was surprised when she went out the gate and rode back in. Parking the car on my street, I told Kaede.
“Just wait here,” while I hurriedly went back inside. Thinking I was getting a scolding, it turned out my dad was running late. Ironic. Just checking myself in the mirror, a quick comb, then a rummage for my envelope of money. One reloaded wallet a second later, and a swift, hand-waved, stock response of, “Oh, my friends are asking me out!” while walking to the door. Out of the gate, I found Kaede kneeling and petting our house cat. Giving the feline a treat and a pat on the butt before the loud clang of the gate rang behind it.
“Well, where do you wanna go now?” I asked Kaede. Thinking about it for a second, she had the simplest answer, “How about Sukiya?”
It was the cheapest option we could think of. It was also an old hangout of our batch. Pondering about it for a second, I thought about pushing about that other, family-run restaurant we all frequented. I imagined the smell of a fast-food restaurant when I gave her my answer.
We were thinking whether we should take the train or walk. Only needing to cross the river, we settled for the latter. During this time, in our home city, nonetheless, where anyone could see us, I tried not to quickly grab onto Kaede. Walking down the avenue to the bridge, many stores closed early, and only the konbinis and entertainment establishments were open at the center. The chance of one of our friends from the izakaya seeing us remains higher than zero. However, she had something else in mind when I tried to link our arms: pulling away and grabbing my hand instead.
If she was staking her claim this early, I was all in. Continuing our march onward, crossing the bridge had us trying to look over the railing, but to little avail. Later, we found ourselves at a near-empty restaurant. Sitting beside each other, we couldn’t have ordered a more different dinner than earlier. She had the heavier meal this time around. The first few bites had us quiet, as the allure of a cheap, filling set meal should do.
“You want to go out tomorrow?” Kaede asked.
“Tomorrow?” I answered that I had another errand tomorrow.
“I was thinking of grabbing coffee in the afternoon.” Her face dropped a bit.
"It depends. Quite easy to cook up an excuse, you know." I cheekily replied.
However, I remained curious about what exactly we did earlier. Kaede's intentions were clear: she wanted to start dating me. Knowing this wasn't just a girl I met online or last week, I felt the weight to make it work, and not just hope it would. I just listened, then when she finished, I nodded and answered.
"I can make time for you."
Though doggedly, my mind wandered about what our cargo was for. Working off that, maybe she was helping at the seafood store her mom worked at. But Kaede shut me down. If not that, then what? I asked again what her actual summer job was.
"I'm a miko." A shrine maiden.
"You're free in the evenings then?" Now I had a better timeframe to work from.
Kaede added that sometimes, she got off early in the afternoon too, though often she would need to go to the mall or grocery afterward. When I asked her why that was, she simply said she liked how quiet the temple grounds were. The topic was lighter again after that, and both of us were doing something Buddha would not quite approve of: gossip.
Two empty bowls of rice and a shared plate of gyoza later, we left. Though now, I found myself holding her hand before we even crossed the intersection. We were on our last leg, and while my house was closer, I would bring Kaede home first. It meant a longer walk but more time with her. Much like earlier, I found myself walking at her pace and holding her closer as it approached nine in the evening.
"First date and you're already setting a second," I remarked. It wasn't like I was looking forward to it myself.
"I mean," Kaede looked for her words, "Dating couples should go out some more, shouldn't they?"
I laughed, then agreed with her. I then thought of what our first formal "date" was. I argued that it was today. Yet, for her, it was our group "double-dates," which had been neither between four people nor actual dates. Or maybe, just maybe, perhaps arguing in jest, if I had gotten the hint. I argued again about whether there was any when I helped her move to Tokyo. She just tugged at my elbow and gave me a bit of a glare. I just gave up my case, teasing her throughout. I was serious about telling her that while I found many of our classmates pretty, I was not expecting her to make the first move. She was not particularly spiteful, but she agreed.
"I didn't mind that I was quite late," Kaede concluded, though she never was, "I only care that we are now."
それでも君を連れて行くよ
soredemo kimi wo tsurete yuku yo
I'll still take you there
I just chuckled. Kaede just lightly smacked my shoulder this time—what a poet.
Coming up to their gate, she unlocked it. Though instead of entering, she walked back to me. I hugged her tightly and said, “I’d like us to go out again.”
揺れたり震えたりした線で
yuretari furuetari shita sen de
With lines that sway and shake
“We’ll see tomorrow.” I just kissed Kaede’s forehead in response.
Before she went inside. She whispered one last request, “aishite.”
描くよ君の歌を
egaku yo kimi no uta wo
I'm drawing your song.
The air hushes coldly over the barren wasteland, desecrated with endless bodies left by the ruins of war.
A lone figure stands tall above the chaos:
Her.
The heat beams down, adding to the unwellness present with the pool of blood around your feet. Though, it’s been like this since you were young, having grown with surroundings and refined with experience. Like your mother - queen of higher beings, ruler of all - has shown you the landscapes of these battles, to watch with such vigor, internalize the scent, how their limbs were mangled. In time, you’ll be no stranger to such wrath.
It’s only natural, however. You can only hold so much back to admit you adore this.
You kneel down to a deceased from the North, their blood dried up on their skin when a yell is heard further down the battlefield. Perching up, a silhouette is seen in the distance; hair fairly short and shaded, skin riddled with dirt and blood too. When you walk near them, their posture is hunched, leaving you perplexed.
The girl becomes frightened when you ghost her shoulder. Up close, her features are fair: sharp, cat-like eyes and a pert mouth. Tears are seeping at the corners. Despite this, she’s quite beautiful.
“Why weep?” You ask. She looks up and blinks, composing. “I don’t see why you spill tears over-”
“I don’t know,” the girl answers, “I just found myself here and there’s nothing but-”
“Bodies,” you shrug and she winces. Despite the obvious being stated, you’re left curious about her choice of words: “Wait. How did you get here?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t remember where I was before- this. And then-”
Oddly, your mother has told this tale a long time ago: how the manifestation of gods could occur both in conception or by some miraculous circumstance; the only explanation- actually, was simply without grievance.
She’s the same as you. Born out of blood. Out of war.
You take her hands and lean in closely. “We’re not safe here,” you say. “My mother may have the answers to all your questions. I can assure you that.”
“Mother?” The girl repeats quizzically.
“Above heaven and earth,” you praise, like it’s branded into your mind. “Jihyo. Lord of all gods.”
“Jihyo.” The girl’s gaze lights up, wistful. Unsure of the name at first, but she remembers, rising. Before you speak about anything else, your name passes your lips. It’s peculiar how this girl didn’t exist minutes ago, despite appearing in a similar age as you.
Peculiar could be one word to describe it - strange as another while you say: “I’m not a God. Not yet, I think, but this would be my territory.”
“Yeji,” she replies, brows cinched. “If we’re on this- ruined land, then maybe we’re gods of war?”
“Only one way to know for sure,” you say while you pull Yeji across the field. Your fingers curl around hers; and there’s the slight pressure from them, too.
A faint idea sprouts in the back of your head: claiming Yeji to be yours.
–
Since you were little, Jihyo was seen to be gentle; as someone with a bright smile - beneath all of that is a pressure that demands respect, carrying authority. Her power is so raw, there’s a hint of lighting - flickering deep in her eyes. Yeji’s stricken look on her face is a justifiable one when you and her meet away from the chaos.
“Want to tell me who’s the girl?” Jihyo questions with a finger to your direction. Yeji, shields herself behind, with you unfazed in the front.
You and Jihyo have a staredown - a brief test to see who yields first. “This is Yeji,” you announce. “Are you fine with me taking care of her, mother?”
“I’ll consider it,” muses Jihyo, tilting her chin up. “If you explain what’s the meaning of this?”
“I found her lost in the landscape. When I asked her, she told me that she just appeared there.” You say, seeing Yeji scoot further and further past your arm. “Makes me think she’s the same as us.”
“Maybe.” Jihyo tilts her head to get a better look, motioning her hand for Yeji to walk forward. “Here, my darling. Don’t be afraid.”
Yeji acknowledges, her eyes tired to the ground. She looks back and you nod in assurance, taking another step forward in front of your mother. Jihyo rubs her thumb over the bridge of her nose. Yeji then inhales sharply, causing Jihyo to smile in approval. “By the Gods. The energy budding within her is similar to ours. Fascinating.”
You smile, astonished. “In what way?” Watching as Jihyo smiles down at Yeji, shifting it over to you now.
“She’s the same as you, a god like us.”
Born out of blood, out of war.
Your face is filled with excitement. “I have ideas for her, if that’s okay.”
Jihyo palms Yeji’s face, standing up soon after. She grabs your hand and hers, pulling them from the battle, the odor still prominent from the long hours. “She’ll stay with us, don’t worry.” Jihyo tells you. “As for your requests, we’ll save those for a future discussion.”
–
Yeji recites the Covenant three days later.
Following the ceremony, she jumps into Jihyo’s arms, high on spirits. “I want to do more.”
“I’m not understanding,” chuckles Jihyo, combing Yeji’s hair and taps her back. “What do you mean by more?”
“When they said infinity.”
“Are you aware of what the commitment is?”
“Lady Yuna pulled me aside earlier and shared the proposition,” Yeji explains, slightly sulking. Her palms clap together like a prayer. “Oh Goddess Jihyo. Please. Please, let me-”
You can only stand and watch her beg to your mother, vision turning foggy. Anger boils in your veins; brain clouded with resentment.
Only a few goddesses have sworn to partake in the Covenant. The meaning - still foreign to your ideals, but it’s one that’s against intimacy, connections, and love. Jeongyeon was one who came to mind - taking the oath; recalling the time after a date with death you refuse to believe is true coming from her.
“Think of it as insurance,” Jihyo said to you as she coaxed you to sleep on her lap. “A reminder of what we must do. To stay focused. To have no distractions.”
(Part of you wants to be against it. You could be the one- you are the one for her. You could give her everything she ever desired, but it’s daunting for her not to know-)
“You can,” says Jihyo, burying her nose into her hair, cupping her face soon after. “I can grant your long-awaited wish.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re willing to accept the responsibilities.”
“Which I do.”
“Very well then.” Jihyo’s voice booms, and the audience erupts. Yeji tightly hugs Jihyo while you stand frozen. Just to be prompted for a reaction by Lia tapping your shoulder. She looks confused when you lock eyes with her, filled with a growing rage.
You start to walk away, Yeji noticing you disappear into the sea of people in the grand hall. Feeling a chill run down her spine.
She doesn’t see you storming past the door. Nor the bundle of tears welled up, either.
–
Wreathed in sparkling gold, Yeji bows at Jihyo’s feet. Hands stacked across her chest, looking up dutifully, waiting for the gifts. Yuna, tends to the fireside, sprinkling incense into the flames. Jihyo lifts her hand, tells Yeji to rise. “Why are we here, Yeji?”
“To accept the offering. The promise of infinity, my queen. Ruler of the divine, overseer or all.”
“And you pledge to take this covenant for the rest of your life? For the good of our kind, until time reaches an end?”
“I do,” Yeji says. Temptation alone could never withstand her willingness. “I accept these conditions.”
“Do you also intend to accept the damnation of your existence from this world, if this oath is broken or defied for any reason?”
No one ever mentions this because very few have been exiled from the empire. The sentence: plunge into the depths of Tartarus and make the tormenting climb back up. That, and crossing the River Styx while your skin is melting off your body. You like to believe that those who met that end died peacefully. You also can’t help wonder what being one would become if they’ve suffered through it all - what monster they might become, and Yeji’s pale expression would be evident of that.
“Yes. I accept.”
“By the powers and through higher beings, “Jihyo declares. “I hereby ascend your purpose to the institution. Arise, Yeji. For you are reborn.”
An overwhelming pressure floods the room, the shrine behind Jihyo bursting brightly with fire. Which only meant one thing: the coronation had been successful. Yeji takes the chalice given to her with two hands, sipping the blessed wine. Everyone in the room applauds to congratulate her, slightly embarrassed through it all. Jihyo brings her in for a hug, embracing the milestone. “My child, I could not be even happier for you.”
“I’m blessed to have you by my side,” replies Yeji.
She twists to the crowd, scanning for you. You stand behind Lia and Nayeon, grasping your right first. Seeing your eyes filled with rage, Yeji slowly looks back at your mother, uncomfortable.
You haven’t faced much loss- not yet, at least. But this would be the first time in your life you’ve ever envied someone for a legitimate reason. Nayeon tries to get your attention, and you’re reluctant. Silently damning everyone in the hall to hell if they ever got to Yeji first.
If you must suffer, so shall they.
–
Time waits for nobody; and the growth highlighted on Yeji’s features have become apparent. Her hair is much shorter than when she was little, well-toned and figuratively sculpted by Aphrodite herself. Adored by her sisters, worshiped by all. As for you, you’ve grown as well, more weather, and frame are accustomed to the demands of your duties.
Most people won’t admit to your face: how the beaming eyes have too much life in them, a demeanor too aggressive - where the thirst for something bigger is unquenchable. You can blame the drive for action, the rush of adrenaline accrued by risks.
You’re the God of War. Yeji was adorned in virtue in contrast to your immorality. She was idolized in goodness opposed to people mouthing you for iniquity, threatening to take a life for your own benefit.
Despite this, it’s impossible for one factor to succeed without its counterpart. No battles aren’t won without a motive; no strength without grit, and someone left standing to victor the spoils.
Yeji is the other half of your soul. The one to complete your existence.
–
She stands in the open field, aiming a bow down range. You’re observing her draw back, ready to fire. Ryujin stands next to her in training.
You carefully watch her side profile, the corner of her mouth pulled way further than usual, earnestly speaking in moderation. Ryujin pauses every now and then to see if Yeji’s listening, but you’d like the idea of her not acknowledging her presence to be enough already.
A trailing hand grazes the rack of bows, taking one from the wall. Examining the feel, shouldering a quiver and walking over to the open windows. Then, you’re back where you were, mirroring the same movement as Yeji, waiting for the wind to ease in the direction.
Ryujin’s caught in the crossfire, too. Oh well.
You pause, pull the arrow back, releasing your fingers. The target’s hit, but not without breezing over Ryujin’s head in the process. Her head ducks down, immediately swivels back.
“Hey! Has Medusa looked at you today, you blockhead?!” She exclaims, covering her head and seeing if there was any loss of blood. No surprise from you seeing her pissed. “Watch where you’re shooting?!”
“Must’ve been the dust,” you deadpan. “I was totally aiming for your head.”
“Bitch-”
“Ryujin, it’s okay.” Yeji interrupts.
Ryujin flashes a look, displeased. Before she could refute, Yeji lifts her hand to calm her. You see Ryujin balling her fist, sighing and walking away, hitting your arm in passing. She gives you a dirty look before moving on.
You hold the bow and arrow proudly, like you’ve returned from an animal hunt. Smiling.
“Don’t know what you’re trying to achieve, but that was stupid,” says Yeji.
“Was it?” You laugh dryly. Watching her draw her bow again for another shot, hits dead center. “Hello to you, too.”
Yeji squints at the target, unimpressed. “You don’t practice shooting usually.”
“Sometimes change is good.”
“What’s there to change if your specialty is fighting?”
You cross your arms. “So. You and Ryujin, huh?”
“No comment.”
“Do you always have this attitude?” You ask, admonished. “For someone painted as a queen-”
Yeji swivels her head back, releasing the notch. She misses the target, and ends up hitting yours. “May I remind you of almost taking off Ryujin’s head a minute prior?”
“Still got heart, don’t ya?” You scowl.
Yeji scoffs in reply. “You idiot.”
She takes aim again, honing her breath and when the wind dies down from the momentary rush. Letting go, and it’s back to hitting the center. It’s the same for the next shot. For the following two, they start to deviate from the rest of the arrows. Much to one of them tagging another arrow and hitting the edge.
You lean your head closer, sensing the pressure getting to her. “Rushing your shots isn’t helping, dear. Ever thought of taking your time?”
“Maybe I will listen to your advice.”
“How so?”
“If I take my time like you did with Ryujin, I’ll get the bullseye again.”
Scoffing, you move behind her. The proximity is close - and you’re not even touching her - but you smirk at the smallest tense of muscle in her body, hovering your mouth to her shoulder. “Just relax for me, okay?”
“I’m fine. Believe me, I am.” Yeji assures.
“Which also irks me, how you’re faltering. You’re not one to miss these shots.”
“I’m just distracted,” Yeji says, shrugging you off and readying her bow once more. “You’re breaking my concentration.”
She becomes startled when she fires another arrow way off target, attention now on your arm to her waist. You laugh, helping Yeji bring her bow back up, steadying. “Seems like you could use a hand.”
Yeji tenses. “Trust me, I’m fine. I’m-”
You shush her, point down to the target. “Here, I’ll do this once.” She listens, letting you reposition and posture her shoulders to the right height. Raise your arms like this, and you can pull the arrow back more than needed, believe me. Though this isn’t said out loud; but Yeji follows.
“Like so.” Her shoulders are pulled up and back, slowing her breath. Stable with your hand to her backside, keeping her straight.She closes her eyes when the breath on her ear is a bit warm, hushing: “Now release.”
Right down the middle, all with a good eye. The tip of your nose grazes her cheek. “Another.”
Yeji goes through four more attempts. You aren’t guiding her at this point - nor you never needed to - so your hands are at her hips, pressing gently. As soon as the last arrow settles into the hay, she sighs and falters into you. “What’s wrong? Exhausted?”
“Yeah,” admits Yeji. “A bit.”
“That’s not all, is there?”
“It’s just,” she says, licking her lips. You longed to have yours on hers. “Most nights are difficult without-”
“Me?”
Yeji goes quiet, unsure to think of a response. Without making it awkward, you snake your arms around her waist again, well moulded by her tunic. “It’s alright. Good shooting, by the way.”
Her body sinks into you, head lolling over your chest. She looks up to meet your eyes with hearts - an underlying pull, urging you to lean down - closer and closer, if she permits it so. Your grasp becomes tighter-
“Yeji,” you breathe, her name spilling out your mouth in this reverent, fragile tone.
But the both of you look up to your names being called by Haewon, waving from inside the range. While she got your attention, Bae trailed behind her, bow and arrow slung over and walking to an open spot. Yeji squeaks in surprise while seeing who it was.
“Hey! Are you guys sticking around the range some more?” Haewon asks.
Much to your disappointment, you look at Yeji while she smiles gleefully, as if nothing ever happened. A good thing was that you guys were out on the field and not in the main part of the place, otherwise the flushed color on her cheeks would be a lot more noticeable.
“Ah, I was just about to leave and see Jihyo.” Yeji answers, hand to her head. “Told me about some important matters.”
“Aw, okay,” pouts Haewon, seeing you and Yeji walk back in to return the items. “Next time then?”
Yeji bobs her head yes, smirking before seeing you two off, walking away without turning her head around.
Once she’s out of sight, Haewon smacks your arm. “The hell was that for?”
“I saw your look back there,” she grunts. “Don’t even think about killing me.”
–
It’s one of the many nights that aren’t like the others, when you feel a shift in weight somewhere around your bed. You’ve trained for circumstances like these, sitting straight up and reaching out in the dark, grasping a firm part of the supposed intruder. They resist, until they’re flipped over and you’re hovering them, feel a small hand pressed to your sternum.
The hairs on your neck stand, and your mouth warps when you finally see who snuck into your room.
“It’s me,” whispers Yeji, finger to her lips. Her face, amazingly calm despite having your hand wrapped around her neck, curling your wrist. “If I wanted it, you’d be dead already.”
Your grip loosens, but now you’re just cupping her neck. “That’s my saying. Also what are you doing here? You should be sleeping since you’ll be out later today.”
“Why not? It’s not like we’re related or anything.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“Am I really?”
“Yes,” you hush. “When you took the oath, everyone you have a connection with should be seen as a loved one. Nothing more.”
“You say that but you act otherwise.” Yeji tells you, trying to break free from your grasp. Instinctually, you slide your hand down from her neck to her middle, pulling her close as you lean. She scoops under and flips the position where she’s on top and now you’re back on the bottom, falling to your chest, aware your fingers are glued to her.
She tries to pull herself out, but you reel her back in. “Ugh, can’t ever get enough of me, hm?”
“If I haven’t made it obvious enough.”
Yeji lets the thought of going out simmer in her mind, only to rest on your chest, smushing her face into the firm muscle. She relaxes, and so do you.
“Sleeping’s been difficult for me,” she breathes.
“How so?”
“I- I don’t know. Not since-” and Yeji doesn’t say anything more.
“It’s because of Lia’s condition,” you say, feeling dejected. “We haven’t had that since Jeongyeon and Mina’s incidents.”
“Those were pretty bad, in their own right.”
Definitely some truth to that statement by her, you know that for sure. The war itself has taken a toll on everyone. Your sword drenched in dark red, scent heavy with blood, soot on your face, but Yeji watched from afar; the devastating sight of terror. In your eyes, her reaction was justified. She was a steadfast figurehead in the tactics, unlike the brutal matters. She left that to you. If anything, she hasn’t deemed herself ready for a step up in the task.
(You’re certain with time, she’ll come to her own. Yeji’s been one to act on change if it feels right.
Whether she’ll like it or not, is up to her.)
“Not just them but-” her breath bundled in her throat. “It’s difficult to have that in mind when it could happen to us.”
“People are dying regardless,” you say. “Maybe because of us, or even when they have something- or nothing to fear. War could even be about hurting the other person more.”
“You’re not wrong, but I-”
“You haven’t seen-” you stop short, rethinking your choice of words, “-what some of us have gone through. Jihyo should’ve shown you more, like she has with me.”
“She should’ve.” Yeji agrees. “I should’ve.”
You breathe her in, pull her close. The wave of haziness grows heavier and heavier. Yeji’s hand wiggles into your hair, nestling her leg between your thighs. She kisses your neck, nuzzling her head back to where it was before sighing in relief, sleepy.
–
Much later, she’s the reason why you can’t sleep.
Only because she’s wrapped to your side more, curling her figure where she could appear to be straddling you. With a knee near her hips, and a hand ghosting her shoulder.
You could wake her up, or do nothing. Nudge her into consciousness so she can adjust comfortably - even keep her close so that she doesn’t leave at all. It kills you to do so; have faith that she could see you on a deeper level and gain her trust. You may be self-centered, egotistical. That’s the truth, and you’re swallowing your pride and pushing her down.
“Mmnh,” a moan murmurs in Yeji’s mouth.
But it’s in the slightest movement imaginable - similar to her shocked noise - you can’t second guess that. Soon, all your thoughts flood your mind, of the possibilities, solely focused on her. It’s defying, even freeing.
You’re too fucking sensible to mindlessly run into the fray. Go off the deep end with your ideas. You just have to be sure.
In the bend of your knee, you feel the cozy embrace at Yeji’s legs. Her breath hitches, fingers gripping the sheets, and you can sense the tension come to a halt in both of you. Neither of you move a muscle.
Stay. Stay here. All I ask, okay? You bite down the want to speak, in pleading. What you’d do in worshiping her. Please. Please.
All Yeji does: she looks up.
You’re far gone. “I love that look in your eyes.”
She’s still at your bracketing arms, burying her into your collar. “I don’t care about anything else. Please, I’m just- begging you to not-”
Her fingers find your jaw, calming you. She rises, bringing her face closer. “You could never hurt me.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is?”
“Aren’t you, well-”
“Afraid?”
Yeji smirks, flares her nostrils. “Kind of.”
The ends of her hair brush your skin, tickling. She guides your hand to her middle, right below her breast. Holding you for a moment - in assurance, or with a lasting impression. Neither of you are sure what’s to happen next.
“What would be your biggest regret?” You ask.
“It’d be you.”
You blink. “I don’t understand.”
Between rising breaths, you both move closer. Her nose bumps yours, eyes lidded. It’s close. So close, yet Yeji remains hesitant. “I- I don’t think you-”
Your breath tangles with hers, lips parted.
“You don’t even know.”
Ah, little does she know: you do. Of course you do. It’d be an endless scripture of how much you yearned for her. Siphoning up the very air you inhale until there’s an endless void in the center of your heart. She reduces you to nothing, leaving nothing behind. You’re only heartless because your life is beating through someone else. She should know it.
“Believe me,” you proffer taking her in, nose to her hair. “Do you have any idea? What you do?”
Yeji’s eyes match the cosmos, shimmering. You keep stargazing.
Till gravity says otherwise, by her own force, kissing you.
It’s open-mouthed, at first. Then it gets erratic - frantic even. She leans down while you’re doing your best to keep up, pulling her bottom lip and letting her pepper your face with kisses; to your cheek, then your mouth, anywhere she sees an opening.
Could you handle her? Let alone the rising beat of your heart claimed by her?
“I can’t begin to describe,” you sigh, slack-jawed and in pure awe. “How wonderful you are like this. My beautiful girl.”
Her fingernails graze your cheek, and you don’t give her another thought besides your lips. The hand to her waist a firm hold, leg pressed higher between her. It alters your brain a bit when the slightest whimper rumbles on her tongue.
She holds your leg still, rocking her hips back and forth gently. Yeji likes having control, until the urge to want more consumes her mind. Moving up to where her hips grind down your stiff cock, buried under the heat. Sighing blissfully, her neck opens up and you lave your tongue over it. Your fingers hang along the curve of her boob, but Yeji holds your wrist there.
You could stare at your hand later and memorize the mere detail of it: the softness of it, just a bit smaller to your hand, the fact it’s so easy to knead and how cute her slightly tanned nipples were. Grasping every other second.
You don’t even pay attention to her slick spreading across your thigh. That is, when she jolts her hips, clenching at the friction. The motion goes sloppy. Yeji’s face warps into something deterred, almost tantrum-like.
“Shh- shh. I’m here,” you coax, nose to her chin, and attentive. “What is it, hm?”
Yeji’s eyes flash in fear, uncertain. Like the temptation of lust is a cardinal sin (which it is) and she’s defying the one pledge she swore to keep. The idea of stopping and walking away from you is a plausible choice, but for all the wrong reasons.
The way she sits still repulses you. In retaliation, you skate her firm but with your thumb, lowering your head and catching the other with your teeth. You feel her pussy gush even more at the sensation.
She shrugs at your nose to her hair. “It’s okay, Yeji. You can tell me-”
“Don’t, you-” but her sentence is subsided by another whine, taking your hand and guiding it to her legs. And you can easily tell how damp her panties are, which inflates your ego much more than it should.
You’re exploring, mostly going by feeling rather direct hints. Gliding your fingers over her lower lips and her head bucks forward, huffing. It’s also another thing where you slip a digit inside and wiggle her clit on your thumb. Oh, it’s even more twisted when you’re smirking at her clawing hands - though it's worse when she sinks over your throbbing erection, gyrating her hips in a back and forth motion.
(This has to be a dream, right? Like- there’s surely no way you’re hearing these obscene noises from Yeji’s lips, spilling out from the warm flesh moulding at your touch, straight out of your fantasies from a hidden part in your mind. But her breath blows on your face, and the weight of her body is taking its toll on you.
And it does turn out: you’re not dreaming.)
She holds you tightly, much like she’s afraid to lose you. From below, you’re grinning into her marked up skin, high on the delightful sounds you’ve never imagined to be real.
Nothing lasts forever, evident of the piercing shriek soon to fall down to nothing. As for you, chasing that same high, too, coming undone to your own devices. Your hand snakes out of her pussy and back to her waist, holding her still. In addition to the comforting kisses left to her jaw and neck, moving up until a tangy distaste coats your lips.
“Yeji,” you’re echoing, softly. “Are you-” but to your shock, she looks remorseful, seen in her tears.
“Yeji,” you breathe. “Baby.”
Here she winces, throwing herself off to you and hiding away. It doesn’t help the deepening pit growing within, fearful of your heart being sucked away with regret. “Have we made a mistake, Yeji?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just me. I swear.”
“You can talk to me,” you whisper, pulling her closer.
“I’m sorry,” she says while turning around, clear threads streaming down but her face grows cross, pressed. “We both made a mistake tonight. I made a promise and I don’t want to ever dishonor it.”
Yeji has you stumped. Amidst the confusion mixed with anger, you don’t let this go. “To hell with your promise, love. You came on my fingers-”
“Enough.”
“This isn’t something you brush off. You wanted this.”
“So what?!” Yeji says aggressively. Part of you agrees with her, while the latter is still stuck from the moments prior. “We shouldn’t- we shouldn’t have-” Her lips close. “I made a lapse in judgement. And I really am sorry.”
“You-” is the last thing you sputter before your eyes are full of her figure, retreating away and into the hallway. The fingers are pressed firmly on your palm, still warm from Yeji’s slick. You plop back on the bed, breathe in the scent left by her as well. It doesn’t stop you from sniffling, or the tears seeping silently from your eyes.
The thing is: you actually don’t sleep for the rest of the night. You couldn’t afford to.
Not without this new discovery plaguing your mind.
–
Yeji made it her mission not to cross paths with you, but she fails. A literal impossibility, for that matter.
She can’t blame herself for having her room down the hallway, as one thing. It’s just- regardless of her efforts, you and her are knowingly tethered together.
About a week and a half passes since that night, where her temper got the best of her emotions from your unimpressed smirk, she drags you into a storage closet in the hall after dinner, right before a gathering-
“You piss me off,” she whispers to you between parted mouths, slick from kissing. “Please, don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-”
The room may be dimmed but you’re sure she can see your smirk.
(Less than three days later, she’s squirting on your face in one of the many studies in the pavilions.
Here’s the more insane part: she slips your cock into her mouth just seconds after.)
Because you’ve learned this about Yeji: she can’t keep her word, ever. In the times where she shoves you off only to come back around. She’s losing, and not just with you, but her oaths, where she promised to herself, cursing in deprecation, words spilling like her slick.
She deduces that she can’t stop. Plus the evidence is substantial to back the claim up.
–
You and her go round and round, endlessly.
Oddly, it’s kind of poetically infinite.
–
You learn not long after: Tzuyu is on the same boat as you, sailing the similar troubles.
She doesn’t share much, but you’re aware her lover was a goddess named Sana.
Though unlike you: who vents their frustration on withered sacks of training dummies tied to a pole; Tzuyu channels it through scriptures, writing broken vows on soiled paper for it to be reduced as embers in a flame:
“she cradles my head so sweetly, even if it’s spoiled with her essence. when all i hear are her pants - as i lie still on her chest. i hate how quiet she is - even when she speaks passionate tongues - these declarations i give on her body, it grows exhausting at times.”
“the most damning part of it all?”
“i love her, but i worry she doesn’t feel the same.”
–
On the battlefield, Yeji’s your enemy.
You’re aware of the sudden chill in the tent when she walks in; acknowledging her presence with a look over the shoulder, see her lowered hood and turning the other cheek.
“Fighting me is pointless,” she tells you, pleasantries disregarded. “You underestimate the number stacked against you. Even Sullyoon said-”
“Chances are high, yes,” you say. “Optimistic from your part, I must say. But you have to realize, Yeji. You’re not one to steer away from the majority.”
“Sullyoon is a siren,” she relents. “Just like me. I chose to protect my heritage.”
“Then you really are lost.” You walk away, only for Yeji to stop you in your tracks. She stands her ground, looking you in the eye, determined.
“This is a mistake. You’re making a mistake. All because you got mad at me.” Yeji says. You flare your nostrils, pull a faint smirk. She knows very well that you’re not one to hold a grudge against her.
You then move a few locks of hair from her ear, caressing her neck. “Don’t be so melodramatic. We have differences today, but it’ll be a different story tomorrow. My devotion will be towards you, because in time, I’ll be the one protecting us.”
“You idiot.” Yeji cringes. “I find your ego agonizing. Taking pride in battles all because you ‘feel like it.’
Her eyes flutter when you lean down to kiss her. She pulls away, unsure. The soft look in her eyes stacked with a faint smile is all it took for her to crumble.
You know very well that she’s yours.
“No guarantees out there,” you whisper to Yeji, winking. “Protect yourself.”
Yeji’s face falls in dread when your back’s turned, watching you walk out of her sight.
–
(Very few things bring you joy to this world. Amongst gods and men, there’s no competition at all.
The thrills it blesses you:
How it’s fulfilling - piercing flesh with aged steel.
Hearing the wailing cries and then nothing. The heat blazing from above and the red spray baptising you with every offering by your blade.
It’s so, so terrifying, but beautiful, to you.
You can’t die, yet this vein-pumping sensation of excitement is the only thing you’ll ever get to feeling anxious - maybe even fearful.
Wondering how it would feel, for your life to end. To be a mortal-
Yes, well-
That isn’t even all of it.)
–
You search for Yeji, head so high you’re laughing with blood all over your face.
She stands in the center of corpses, flicking her sword to rid some of the muck off. Once you’re in her eyes, your smile drops. Her face goes grim - like she’s unsure of her actions. If anything, you can tell that she despises losing; Yeji never liked being below someone who wasn’t better than her.
Examining her sword, “What would this prove, hm?” she asks. “You being superior than me?”
“Depends,” you say with a calm tone. You pause when her chin tilts, and you grip your sword a lot more tightly.
You walk closer, stopping across from her, drenched in red like you were dunked in it. Safe to say that this domain was yours; and much more comforting than how it was on Olympus, where the only action was bickering in politics and lacking a real fight.
One part is deprived from you, etched deep in the open wound within your heart. A quest of yearning where it would’ve sent your mind into madness. Just for it to be in arms reach: the precious girl who completes you.
“Spare me your theatrics,” grits Yeji, displeased. “I’m not willing to hear your brash remarks about how good you feel.”
You laugh. “How cute.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“I’m aware,” you smirk.
“Then why do you continue to spite me?”
“Because it’s an amazing feeling to gloat.”
Yeji huffs. “You could take it somewhere else.”
“I’d rather brag in front of you.” you then say.
Her eyes then dart in a different direction, mouth ticking upward. You step forward when she takes a step back, only to be backed into a nearby barrack, grazing the chipped wood mixed with dirt and soot. She doesn’t move when your bloodied hand holds her waist and shifts her over to a stack of hay bales. Yeji shakes her head while you’re humming with mirth.
“You have no shame,” she tells you, face locked with yours. Yeji sees you as some unrelenting storm, the purest sins from the depths of her mind come to life; the cardinal sin she keeps coming back to. You’ll have pride in those regards, since you were great in delivering where it matters most.
The knife cuts both ways, with all bad decisions in mind.
As long as the both of you belong to each other.
“Are you saying I’m careless?”
“Have you seen your face in battle?"
Her forehead taps yours, eyes drooping. “For the record, I take great care in combat,” you answer, fingers skating the fabric on her thighs. “The fray is always enjoyable if you go headfirst.”
“Enjoyable? Do you hear yourself? People are still dying.”
“Maybe,” you remark airily, meeting her lips. “They are, and we’re not.”
Yeji’s brows crease, ready to retort, though you don’t give her a chance with another sweep of her mouth. She lets her body go loose, sliding her hand to your neck and angling up. Your hand slips under her gown, grazing the top of her thigh.
Though your hand is already close to the familiar space in between. Luring you in with its heat, and she helps you get a better view below. “Please,” she whispers, almost scared even, remembering her oath. “Don’t-”
You kiss her jaw, hard. As if to make a statement - a point. “I need you, Yeji.”
“You know we can’t.”
“I know.” You cared, but didn’t all the same. She bites her lips at the feeling of yours, nose brushing her skin atop her breast. “Let me have this- have you.”
Yeji pulls away, gazing still. It doesn’t help with your nervousness, what you need to do. Closing her eyes, and moving her legs apart.
You can share the shame with her, greedily or regretfully. She’ll forget about it in a moment.
Without any warning, you curl her folds, not quite slilpping in yet. Yeji hisses at this, clawing your arm while you thumb her clit. She whimpers a bit too loudly, and you’re smothering her lips by yours.
“Everything besides your mind says otherwise,” you harshly say, nibbling a patch of her jaw. Her whole body twists and bends to your hands, twitching. “How much you badly need this.”
“No, I-” she stutters, nearly heaving. “I’m not-”
“Liar.” You say with your sinking fingers to her squelching cunt, pinching down your thumb to not sate the ache she so desperately craves. Her eyes are no where to be seen, arching her back, chest forward and opening. “You’d let me.”
“I fucking don’t-”
“Wrong answer,” you grit. Pushing your fingers deeper, past the first knuckle with her legs clamping you. You could feel more slick pooling on your palm. “Don’t be in denial.”
“Baby-”
That’ll inflate your ego. “Ah ah, Yeji.”
She snaps: “I fucking need you, okay?!” Her cry is in front of the circle of mutilated bodies. “How much more do I have to say it-”
Her cunt quivers on your fingers, chasing that everlasting high. She’s got her breasts out from her gown, your tongue treating to a nipple and her entire body trembles. Yeji’s stomach bucks and bucks and bucks-
Then your hand slips out.
“No. No.” She gasps, reaching out to your hand. Instead of going for your help, she tends to it with her own fingers; though you hold her wrists tightly when she gets between her legs. As evil as you are: licking the slick clean from your digits, eyes full of a desperate Yeji clouded with unbridled want. “You can’t just- please. I beg of you-”
“Keep your hand there,” you say dryly.
Yeji’s eyes flash in fear.
“Lie down,” you instruct, pushing Yeji up the seat. “Relax for me.”
Thankfully, she was able to take the hint: lifting her knees while you’re traversing downward. You give a chaste kiss to her inner thighs, brush the end of your nose on the nub, smirk in content when she tries her hardest to stay still. She’ll give you shit for being such a tesae, licking her up like a poor kitten on her leaking slit, how her hand claws into your scalp, but that’s all the more reason to bury your face deeper. You absolutely love it. Yeji knows it too.
Your tongue moves all over her as it pleases. “You taste so good,” you praise. “I could clean you up for days. You have no idea.”
Keening, Yeji slips her fingers deeper into your locks, nails grazing your scalp - stirring your mind. She doesn’t need to say much - if anything at all. With so much above her to consider, she knows you won’t bend a knee, even when you could.
Where your hands are at the plush of her ass, pressing your tongue deep inside. You treat yousrelf to her sensitive folds, the sweet pucker beneath, sip her down like wine, and you imagine it. Every sigh a relief - sounds of affection never to be spoken - and her moans a passionate refrain.
(You can’t help but think of Tzuyu’s words: because you relate to them so much.)
You’ve got her close to cumming like this, hanging on a thread. In all the humming and grind of your nose to her clit, she can’t pick whether to sputter nonsense or hiccup an incoherent sentence. Her heel digs into your back, the inner press of her thighs crushing your head, but you groan into it, hold her convuilsing figure down as a punishment.
She has to take the licks, pushing your head away for fresh air when she’s legitimately shaking. Hands going haywire and you need much more than the sweet ambrosia leaking out of her. Which is why you’ve never been fast to undo your pants-
Yeji notices and panics, propping up on an elbow. “No! The oath-”
“I’m just,” you huff, stroking the length. “Gonna be like this, I promise.”
Deep down, you wished to be proper and make it right: slipping inside her hot, warm cunt. Yeji rubs herself to you while you’re about to spill, vision going foggy with every impasse-
You cum right then and there, all over her, spurting on her legs and right above her soaked pussy.
It’ll be the closest you’ll ever get to cumming in her.
Yeji sits up, apologietic. Fingers skating up the cum left by you. Her lips swollen, cheeks in a rosy shade, gown undone and exposing her breasts, legs still spread apart and coated in white. Debauched is one way to describe it, thoroughly fucked is close, but you’ll never get past the last hurdle.
Because you and her didn’t actually fuck.
“Hey,” she huffs, worried. “Look at me. Look at me, please.”
“It’s alright,” you say, meeting her lips. Some of the dried up crimson chipping away on your face. You pinch her thigh until she giggles into your mouth. She could taste the anxiousness of your tongue. “I’ll be back for that.”
She fixes her hair while you gather your things, smiling before turning the shoulder. Yeji adjusts her appearance the more you walk away. You still feel the rush, the imaginary high turned into reality: marking her as yours, just like you wished.
Although it isn’t. No. You and Yeji have done this countless times and it still feels like you’ve come up short.
It’s a sinking feeling. One that you hate for eating away at you.
–
Boundaries shift, war rages on. And no matter which side, power always finds a head to rest upon. That’s the true nature of humans in this wretched world.
This could be written as a prophecy - a story within itself: you and Yeji, bound by an invisible string of fate, always standing at the end of every skirmish imaginable.
You see it not as a blessing, but as a curse.
–
After dinner in the grand hall, you’ve got Yeji pinned against the pillars away from the group, glistening thighs parted, and head facing up while you’re attacking her neck.
You couldn’t deny how ravishing she looked, which is all the more reason to sneak away with her when you had the chance. Given the fact that her form-fitted dress was exposing all the curves at once. Yeji came off a bit hostile, kindly indulging in a light-hearted conversation with you and never escalating it past that. It only took one look; and within minutes, sheltered away from the lights, hand slipping into her dress, and circling back to the current dilemma.
She twiddles a few ends of your hair, breath irregular when the head of your cock rubs her clit, spreading her sopping folds.
It’s close enough to your liking, and the pleasure is aching. You longed to push past that brink, have her walls cling to you like a vice, make her feel full, but she refused. She won’t. She can’t. She’s loyal by the rules to a fault and compensates it for making it up in other ways, determined to stay true.
Here is where you and her are different. You’ve been honorable to listen to her wishes whether you liked it or not.
“Make it quick,” she whispers, breath hot on your face. You look over to hear the clamors of cheers and laughter behind - the implication still apparent.
“What’s wrong with not hurrying?” You grin. “Worried you’ll lose your oath with a sister catching us like this?”
“You- ah- that’s not, oh-”
You roll your hips forward, grinding into the friction. Her head falls loose, jaw slacked. “I really could, y’know. Just push myself inside you and- fuck. It would be so easy, Yeji. It’s amazing to think. Look at how wet you are. How much you want my cock.”
Yeji leans back when you brace her to the wall, thrusting forward and up with your face at her neck. Like you’re fucking into her. You bite her throat and soothe it with your tongue, feeling her body seize up when the feeling gets too much - pressing her legs together and claiming your cock as her own. She’s getting there again: that feeling she knows all too well to the point she won’t keep quiet. You wonder if the others can hear you nearby.
Your fingers form a ‘V’ around her cunt and cock. Hushing into her ear, when she’s slicked over your hand, biting down on your shoulder to muffle the screams wanting to be let out.
She cries, shaking and jerking. “Stay with me,” you coax, holding her still. “Don’t fight it.”
Yeji bobs her head, a yes is what you get from it. Her cunt over your shaft is just too damn good, and you’re sighing: “God, Yeji. I’m gonna ruin you, girl. I swear-”
Coming back to her senses, Yeji reminds you: “Not inside. Don’t even think about it.”
“It’s tempting, this cunt of yours.”
“I told you.”
“I know, I know,” you say, thumb to her lips. “Maybe your face? Or your tits-”
“Is that really what you want?”
To your twisted desires: yes.
But you’ll make do, licking her bottom lip while her eyes roll back. Soon you’re gently rubbing your thumb over them. Yeji goes the extra step, sucking down on your finger, and it hits you: “Your mouth, Yeji. Are you okay with that?”
Yeji dazes off for a moment, but she snaps out of it. “Huh?”
“Is that fine? You can tell me no-”
“It’s okay,” she says, easing her breath. Her knees sink, lowering down to the floor. You gander the same way as well when she wraps a hand to your shaft, bringing it to her lips. She swipes the underside a few times - breathes you in. Watch as the tip slips through those pouty lips, sliding like she already knew how to make your legs shake. The most warming thing she does is look up with lidded eyes, shining with want, and you pray she’d have a change of heart, making you choke on your pride.
Soon you’ve got your hand to her luscious locks, fisting with intent when she spits on your cock. Head falling further and further back with euphoria subsiding your rage.
Yeji bobs her head down, and up. Rucks the inside of her cheek to your thick tip. “Mmrf?”
“Yeji, sweetheart,” you coo. “Fuck. That’s incredible."
–
“You’re a prick. You know that?” Ryujin snaps at you when you’re walking back to the hall. All you do is smirk at the backhanded compliment.
“Yeah? What of it,” you say carelessly.
“Are you that much of a dumbass to pretend you don’t know what I mean?” She spits, pushing you out of spite. “Everyone here can see through your heinous intentions and you’re just drunk on your own benefits. Taking Yeji away from the group so you could do- unspeakable things?! Do you know what they’ll do to her if they find out she broke the oath? You selfish, heartless, little bitch. I hope you didn’t-”
“Fuck her?”
That only made Ryujin’s temper flare even more. “You’re the fucking problem around this land. I can’t believe-”
“Wouldn’t you like to know what it was like? Tasting her lips?”
Ryujin grabs your neck and shoves you into the wall. Finger to your lips, but you’re smiling. “You can take that shit to your grave. I’m not having any of it.”
“Don’t you want to know what it was like? Having her undressed?” You ask, reveling in the madness. “Her mouth so sweet like nectar, body so hot until she’s sinking to her knees when I make her cum-”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this out loud,” Ryujin huffs.
“She’s lovely with a pink blush on her face, by the way. Clinging to me when she’s all fucked out of her mind. Oh, Ryujin. It’s so lovely.”
“You’re insane,” she grits. Her eyes lock with yours, visualizing what would never be hers. You chuckle, lifting your hands up when she releases her grip to your chiton.
“Do you want to know why? Why Yeji, of all people?”
Ryujin balls her fist, unwilling to give an answer.
“You, or anyone else would never understand. How much she means to me. That day, when I found her alone on the battlefield, crying her eyes because she was so lost. It changed something in me.”
Ryujin huffs at you, gaze cross. You don’t expect her to say anything. She won’t tell on you, maybe. That’s for her to decide; the grudge she wants to carry.
She could be right with everything.
–
The temple glows with ambient lighting when you reach the top steps.
It’s been hours since the last procession. Most of the clerics have already returned to the monastery, leaving gifts at the shrine. Basked in the moonlight, her golden statue, it’s a sight to behold.
This was the last place you should be in.
She knows this. You know it.
Yet you can’t ignore the change in pressure - as if someone was stalking you from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“You don’t have to hide,” you say aloud, facing forward. “If my opponents wanted it so badly, I would’ve been dead already.”
Yeji walks out from the tall shadow behind the monument, skin beautiful in white and in all its elegance. “Would death be the answer to all your problems, though?”
“Depends,” you say. “Who’s willing to test me.”
Neither of you speak a word after, aware of the tension thick in the air. You look in her eyes, now unsure why you even thought of coming here. This was the perfect place to meet, hide away in the night, kiss her with the stars above, and the thought of reciting adorable tongues to her pussy till she breaks was enough for you but-
Tonight felt much different than the others.
Haewon is the moon’s descendant, but no one shines brightly beneath it like Yeji. Like a fairy brought to life, willing to grant your every wish.
“Why are you here?” Yeji asks.
You blink, swallowing the guilt. It’s pointless. You have to speak up now or else-
“I love you,” you proclaim, it’s needy and irritating your throat, but it’s finally out. “I love you. Yeji.”
Yeji panics, stepping closer, making sure no one else hears your declaration. “What are you doing? You-”
“It hurts me, y’know?” You say. “I really do love you. Much to the point where it’s eating my brain away and like you’re shoving a knife down my chest every time we’re like this. As much as we try to ignore- everything. I hate how we’re like this, when we could be more.”
Yeji’s expression is full of remorse, and hurtful. She can’t hide the emotions held deep within - not with her heart full of life and spreading everywhere outside her being. The fact she says you’re greedy while she holds two hearts in her hands. You’ve never had a heart your entire life; that is, until it’s standing right across from you, beating proudly, nearly breaking.
“You have the same feelings as well, right? Surely you have.” Your hand finds her face, wiping away a tear. Yeji makes you wince in her presence because that’s the effect she has around people. “I just- I just want to hear it. Just this one time and we’ll never speak of it again. I’ll never talk to you again. You won’t have to be put on trial for it, or executed. If you want me to leave you alone, I’ll do that too. Please, Yeji. It’s all I want from you. All I have left-”
“You knew I can never say those words,” she tells you, sniffling.
“And why is that, hm?!” You quietly exclaim. Her face is dangerously close - to where your noses meet. You want her crying, begging, on her knees like the good girl she could be for you, but you know that won’t make anything better. “Why is it that- we can’t be together? If you don’t have sex, the oath stands. Mother won’t find out, either. You can’t say three simple words to express your feelings?”
“It’s not that easy for me,” says Yeji.
“I love you. My heart. My love. My everything-”
Yeji hides her face but you pick it back up, kissing her cheek and pulling her close. That would never be enough, so you kiss her again: from her lips to her neck, her collarbone and down at her chest, until you’re on your knees - proffering your lips for a greater cause. You hold her by the hips and feel her stomach buck, the sobbing seeping through her lips as well. From both of you.
“This is all that I am,” you mutter into her stomach. “I’m meant to love you. I love you to death that it fucking hurts.”
This pantheon is filled with the mix of sobbing and loose prayers. She holds your head to her middle while covering her mouth, realizing how this is killing her too.
–
(Neither of you say another word to each other after, but the message is clear: How can I make you love me?
Her answer could’ve been the solution to all your issues. If Yeji were to deem it true.
Except it never becomes the truth.
Yeji’s calling is much greater than your measly purpose.)
–
When the horizon is broken by the rising sun. You feel Yeji still wrapped in your embrace, face to your chest. You bury your nose in her hair, and kiss her hairline.
Only to remember she hasn't been the same since that night.
It's Friday. Techno music blares through the surrounding speakers, pounding your skin with each beat. You keep tapping your fingers to the rhythm of the song, another hand holding your glass of martini. Most people are grinding on each other by now; it's eleven, but not you. Not yet. Your eyes scan the crowd for someone to catch your eye, someone to look at you and say: yeah, this is the guy I'm taking back to my room tonight.
You and this club go way back at least three years — from a freshman to a senior. The first occasion was a big deal — your first time at the bar and everything, singing, dancing. Then, there came the first girl that picked you up to her place. Again, that was a big deal. The police would pay the bar a visit sometimes, and you'd have to leave the spot early as it got cleared. Now, as a senior student, and with a few women that have passed by you, you can't help but think about the good times you've had with this place.
Still, right now, time's running out. You need to change your location, or it's a bust tonight.
You get up from your seat by the bar before going through the crowd slowly — step by step. Your body takes a few hits from the lustful folks grinding on each other. The place reeks of a combination of perfumes and a little sweat. You're not much better — CK One. No sweat, at least. You sweep the crowd with your eyes to find your potential lucky girl for the night — the girl that's going to take you back to your room tonight.
Until you find her.
Kim Jiwon, or westerly: Liz. A hundred and seventy centimeters tall. Factor in the fact that you don't stand straight, and she has to look down when she talks to you. You've seen her in your classes — same major after all — sitting beside Yujin and Leeseo in the back of the classroom. They're mostly on some MOBA game you've never cared to learn about the name. Now, she's dancing alone under the flashing lights of the club, looking so gorgeous.
The black strapless dress hugs her curves well, showing off her upper body where she needs it — waist, abdomen, tits. Your eyes feast on her body in a haste, trying to get the most of her as much as possible. The lower part is rather short, giving a view of her delectable thighs for you to see — smooth, milky. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail, draping nicely along her back. She just keeps moving along with the beat — eyes closed, lost in the music blaring down the speakers. Put it in slow motion and you get a decent movie scene. Just need a tad brighter lighting to make it all work.
Until suddenly, her eyes meet yours.
Liz smiles, giving you a wave. She can remember you as much as you do with her.
So, you begin your next move, stepping towards her cautiously. You are trying not to look like a weird guy who has just seen a woman for the first time here. She's still smiling. That's good. Keep smiling. As you get closer to her, the curves become more and more prominent to your eyes. Her cleavage looks fucking exquisite to your eyes. She looks taller when you get nearer, practically towering over you now. Your hands don't shake one bit. You're still holding your martini firmly in your hand, dodging the lusty patrons with ease. The light hits her face in a mysterious way that makes her look so resplendent under it. She just looks lovely.
And you start.
She looks so tall.
"Didn't expect you to be the bar type," you greet, almost shouting against the music, tilting your head slightly to the side.
"That makes us two, I guess," Liz responds, also almost shouting, smiling so casually at you. What a princess.
"You look great tonight!"
"What?" she asks with a small laugh, leaning slightly closer towards you.
"I said, you look great tonight!" you repeat under the thrumming music into her ear.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry, but can you say that again? I didn't quite catch it," Liz shouts, leaning even closer towards you. The smell of her perfume hits your nose now — summer.
Chuckling, "You look great tonight!" God, the music is just so loud here.
"Oh!" Liz pulls back slightly, covering her mouth with her left hand — two rings, index and middle each. "Thanks! You look great too!"
You shoot her back a smile. The shirt and jeans sure are a killer combo. "Thanks." Alright, find something to talk about. Her looks are gone, no need for more compliments. The weather? No, that's too lame, and you're in a club. Maybe go with the fact that she's … alone?
"Where's Yujin and Leeseo, though?"
"Oh, Yujin's here," Liz says, pointing to your right, and you see Yujin flirting with some guy in a leather jacket on the dance floor. He's shorter than her. They're all chatty and sparking. She leans in close to him, palming his crotch with a sly smile on her face. They look good for each other. Yujin's going to either riding him until he's dry or plow him senseless with a thick strap — good for him, either way. "Leeseo's studying back at her dorm."
"She seems to be having fun," you state before turning back to Liz. Should be talking about her instead of Yujin, however. "I wanna know more about you, though."
"Oh." Liz's eyes widen just a little, mouth opening slightly as your words reach her ears. It's making her heart flutter. "Well, ask ahead! I have nowhere to go anyway. Yujin's devouring that guy," she says with an eye roll, crossing her arms with a soft simper.
You chuckle softly, pointing your thumb back to the bar behind you — a crowd of horny people away. "Let me buy you a drink, then. Anything on your mind?"
"I'll walk with you there. Don't wanna lose you in the crowd," Liz says, smirking at you. She looks so good when she smiles like this. You notice the small dimples on her cheeks — gorgeous — and your brain short-circuits a little, to be honest. "Let's go. I could do with a martini."
So, you lead Liz through the crowd, eyes trying to keep her in your sight. The two of you make contact with the lusty folks in the club, saying sorry as you go through them to the bar with her. The place reeks of the blending perfumes, deodorants, and alcohol. Blaring through the speakers are techno music and the occasional shouts from the DJ to hype the patrons up. You two reach the bar eventually, clothes tainted with others' sweat and aroma. Liz seems happy, however, still smiling at you cutely from behind.
"Two martinis, please," you shout at the bartender, taking a glance at the happy Liz. She walks towards the bar before setting herself on the stool beside you. You settle yourself next to her under the loud music and the aroma of alcohol, eyes raking over her body—
Chuckling, "Enjoying the view?" Liz asks.
You scoff at the statement, "A lot. You look great tonight."
"Better than those classroom outfits?" she quips. Those hoodies and sweatpants that hide her curves under the fabric? You've always thought that she looks good regardless.
"Trick question, and you always look splendid," you fire back with a simper.
Liz lets out a polite laugh at your words, mouth covered by her hand. "You're unflappable," and the words are making you smile.
The martinis arrive in your hands rather quickly — clear with a pierced olive inside.
"To … Yujin?" you quip with an unsure smile, picking the glass up.
Liz laughs again, lifting the glass up close to you. The light of the bar shines on both of you — under the raucous music, under the smell of alcohol. "To Yujin."
And the glasses clink. You take a sip. She takes a swig — down in a single chug. That's rather fast of her, so you take a swig as well.
"So," you start, looking into her pretty eyes. They spark with excitement, and you can tell.
"So."
"What is a gorgeous woman like you doing in computer engineering?"
Liz pouts, tapping the bar casually, probably trying to recount the story of her life. "Well, I got an A in Python back in high school. They had you do a whole lotta stuff — Matplotlib, NumPy. You know, and my teacher told me one day that I'm good with logic and thinking, which is fitting for an INTP, not that I firmly believe in MBTI, but …" and she pauses, chuckling at you. "I should speak slower, shouldn't I?"
You laugh reservedly. "I'm still on it, don't worry."
Liz smiles. "Thanks," and she puts her purse on the bar. "I'm still not a believer in MBTI, though."
"We'll work well together if you want to know about me on that," you say. "Compatible functions and all."
Liz leans in slightly closer, giving you a delightful view of her ample cleavage on the edge of your vision. You're trying not to take a glance. "Work on what, exactly?" she whispers. Her lips look so full — glossy, rosy. You can see the pimples on her face — those imperfections. They somehow look good on her, even if it's your lust doing the talking.
Now, for the next words, answer carefully. Answer fucking carefully. Make her feel desired. Make her feel wanted. Make her feel safe with you.
So, you lean in closer towards her, and she seems to play along — not backing off. As you get near her, you can smell her warm breath — alcohol and mint. The features are becoming more prominent in your eyes — dimples from that sly smile, pimples, brown eyes. Your heart beats a little faster, but you've done this so many times — fake it until you make it. Staying at women's dorms is your expertise, and you're not fumbling it tonight.
"Would you like to know, Miss?"
You don't have a damn thing in your mind, really. There's a chance that you might just kiss her, even. Your fingers tap on your thighs in a rhythm along with the beat of the music. Her eyes are so dreamy, so easy to get lost in, and you just can resist chuckling out of the unwanted shyness.
"That's rather big talk, Mister. Don't you think?"
God, she's irresistible — from a hoodie girl with her iPad to a goddess in a black, strapless dress sitting just in front of you. Her glossy lips are doing a lot to you. They just look so kissable, so juicy. Plus, she just smells so fucking good. She reminds you of the summer days — hands running through the tall grass, picnicking under the tree, and sweaty, passionate sex in the heat.
"Oh, I'm sure I can follow that up … with interest." Your Apple Watch is going to send a warning about your heart rate soon. You've always dismissed it, however. No big deal.
Suddenly, Liz bursts out laughing, pulling herself away from you. It's unreserved — boisterous, in other words. Oh, the moment is spoiled.
"With interest?" and she just laughs even more, doesn't bother to even cover her mouth. She's still attractive, though, and you can't help but chuckle along with her.
"I'll-I'll skip metaphors for tonight, then," you say with a shy smile, before pulling back from the now-collapsed affection with Liz.
"Sorry for ruining the mood. It's just" — and another set of laughter, a hand on her chest — "we took an economics class last semester, right? It reminds me of that."
This is almost embarrassing for you, should've just kissed her five seconds before the interest. Gotta build everything up from scratch again.
"I love her, though — the professor," you remark, trying to pull her back into the game. The pieces are all over the place now.
"Oh, yeah, she was" — she's still laughing, dimples appearing on her cheeks — "she was great." Liz attempts to put herself into reticence once more. Hope she wants to finish this game as much as you do.
Then, there's a little bit of silence, though. You don't know how to continue. Questions about the subject's grade would be rude. Maybe, maybe, maybe, what now?
"Let me ask you something," Liz speaks against the loud melody of the house music. "I wanna know more about you."
Alright, great. She wants to play this as much as you do.
"Give me … four favorite artists," Liz says.
"Alright, uh … let me think," and your mind wanders through the world of music. It's mostly just your Spotify On Repeat playlist, really. There's a few going through your mind, but you can't just say the first person that comes to your mind. They have to be meaningful. They have to astound Liz.
"Japanese Breakfast."
Alright, that might give off performative male vibes — Clairo, matcha, tote bag type of man. You're not doing this for fame, of course. Sure, maybe to impress Liz a little, but you're not that kind, definitely.
Maybe.
"That's great. Yujin also listens to her, I think."
God, thinking about that lucky guy being ridden while Kokomo, IN plays in the background.
If ever you come back.
Wherever you find your way to.
And you get a tall girl bouncing on your dick crazy style to these lyrics. What a treat.
"Who makes the other three slots?" Liz continues her question, shifting in her seat slightly. The music becomes a bit softer for the first time in hours, letting the two of you bask in the slight serenity of it. Blue-ish light casts a gorgeous shadow on her face. She looks beautiful.
"I'll go with uh … Wolf Alice, Paramore, and someone I don't have the courage to say." You giggle.
"Is it Clairo?" Liz laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. "Do you also happen to like matcha and have a tote bag? Is your favorite book Normal People?" she fires questions at you. You're definitely not the performative male kind, still pretty damn close, however.
"Oh, no, no," you respond with a laugh, hands waving away her accusations. "It's Carly Rae Jepsen, actually. Emotion is like … one of my favorite albums ever," you answer her truthfully this time.
Liz's eyes widen slightly, nodding. "Oh, that's great, actually. I've listened to it once or twice. Let's Get Lost was pretty good, for me."
"That's nice," and you attempt to take a sip from your now-empty martini. Liz giggles at you.
"This round is on me," she says before raising her hand to summon the bartender at your location. You can't help but take a quick look at her somewhat muscular arms. She must've been working out a lot.
"Two martinis, please," Liz tells the bartender, and she gets to work immediately — mixing the liquor, stirring in the cocktail shaker, before pouring out the blended alcohol into your glasses. They're topped with an olive on a skewer for each, and it's done.
Liz picks up the glass, raising it to your eye level. "To your favorite artists," she says.
You chuckle, picking up your drink. "Are we really drinking to Carly Rae Jepsen?" The idea is enticing, however — drinking to someone who made Run Away With Me.
"We can drink to Japanese Breakfast instead, if you want," Liz says with a giggle. Can she remember your favorite artists? Oh, she's definitely interested in you. Little chance that you'll fumble this.
"I'll just go with all four of them."
Liz chuckles again, and she clinks her glass with yours. A swig is taken from her side once more. You take a swig along with her, downing another glass of martini. You take a look at the world around you. The crowd is still as lusty as ever, bodies grinding into each other without any ounce of shame. Music blares through the speakers, back to the intensity you found yourself in when you met Liz on the dance floor. The place remains reeking of perfume and alcohol — not really suffocating, to be honest.
"Hey," Liz calls, and you turn to her. She's looking all pouty and cute, leaning forward slightly towards you. The act shows off the slight of her cleavage once more on the edge of your vision. You're doing your best not to look down. "Losing interest already?" she sulks, tilting her head a little, voice so fucking seductive. This is pretty much an open-goal shot — an expected goal of one, clear-cut chance. Don't fumble this.
"Merely finding a way to lead us out of here, Miss," you respond, voice trying to match hers in softness. This is you doing your best to be attractive. "It can be a little … cramped in here."
Liz chuckles in front of you. You can feel her minty, alcoholic breath on your cheeks. Your body squirms slightly at the soft air from her mouth; she may or may not have seen it.
"Tell me, do you like olives?" Liz asks, picking up her olive skewer from the glass.
"Neutral, that's my stance," you answer, body gravitating a little closer towards hers. Again, you can see the imperfections on her face — pimples, wrinkles — but somehow, they look good on her. The blue-hued light casts a beautiful shadow on her face, looking better than the recent greyish, CG-ridden MCU films. You can see how glossy her lips look — rosy, so kissable, would look good on yours. Her eyes are brown, and you would fucking love to get lost in them for days. God, she's just perfect.
"Shame," Liz mutters so sultrily, bringing the olive pin close to her mouth. You smell her minty, alcoholic breath. "Would love a yes or no."
You chuckle, leaning in closer to her to the place your lips almost touch. It's there, right fucking there — a certain goal.
"What about you, Miss? Do you like olives?"
Liz scoffs. Her breath touches your lips slightly. "I like olives, especially when they're dripping with something … like martinis, or …" and she lets the words trail off, letting you sink under the anticipation of the mysterious liquid.
"Or what, Miss? Caesar salad dressing?" you ask.
"You're ruining it again, Mister," Liz says with a small smile, voice so fucking dripping with sultry. She puts the olive in the space between your mouths before she opens hers slightly. "I'm not in the mood to laugh."
You chuckle, before you also open your mouth just slightly. You know the drill here. "Well, pardon me, Miss. I'm known for my poor comedic timing," you respond, tilting your head a little.
"Just so you know," Liz says, mouth almost touching the olive between you now, eyes focusing on the fruit, "I fucking hate unserious people."
You scoff, "Unlucky me."
Olive-like, that's the first taste of her lips when they plush against yours. The skewer is pulled out for the fruit to sit between your lips, before Liz pushes it into your mouth with her deft tongue. You squirm slightly as the olive invades your orifice, engulfing you with the aftertaste of Liz's martini, and to be sexier: her spit. Her hands cup your face — warm, soft — locking you in place for the ardent kiss. You let the olive ride on your tongue for a while, basking in the taste of it. Liz hums and moans into your mouth as the sloshing sounds of the kiss ring inside your ear. Her tongue explores your mouth so fucking thoroughly, tasting the liquor left inside your cheeks and the nimble olive inside you. Her hands begin to travel down — to your neck, to your collarbone, to chest. You quiver as she finds your chest, rubbing your taut nipples on the fabric, and you just moan into her mouth out of the deafening pleasure. Your cock strains inside your pants painfully, under the devastating bliss, under her touch, under the olive. It's just so overwhelming for you.
Then a bite.
The taste of the olive juice coats your senses — mildly sour, mostly sweet. Again, you tremble as the flavor engulfs your mouth. You hear Liz moan into the kiss as the liquid lands on her tongue. She's loving it. You start chewing and grinding the fruit, letting the taste explode inside your mouths. Liz moves one hand further down — to your tummy, to your belt, to your crotch. She fondles it playfully, palming the area with dexterity. Your body quivers at her touch. You moan into her mouth, so brimmed with bliss as she begins to pull your zipper down, ready to free your—
"Wait," you pull back. The chewed olive remains inside your mouth — battered, ruined. Liz's hand stops on the zipper midway, exposing the tent formed under your boxers a little, enough for her to know how much you've been wanting this, not enough to be considered indecent.
"You better have good reasons, Mister, because if not, this little guy" — and Liz circles the top of your erection with purpose, making you shudder — "won't get a single thing tonight."
God, she's so intimidating. You're faltering under the weight of her dominance. Is she leveraging the fact that you listen to Carly Rae Jepsen against you? Going to be quite a scene when she rides you to Run Away With Me. Those trumpets would blend well with the sound of your thighs clashing into each other's.
"I-I think we should g-go back to—" and you have to hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. Your body is still quivering from the earlier kiss — olive and her spit — before you can face her again with a face that is certainly red. "W-wanna go back to my dorm?"
Liz laughs softly against the loud melody inside the club before she closes the distance between the two of you again. "I wanna hear you say the word first, Mister," she murmurs, cupping your cheeks tenderly. "Say it, and I'll give you anything you want."
You feel the warmth of her hand before rasping, "P-please, Miss, please go back to my dorm with me."
Liz examines you for a second before grinning mischievously. The dimples have never looked more terrifying than now.
"Yujin's going to hear how much of a good boy you are."
Liz's hands are all over your body as she kisses you with vigor under the soft light of your dorm's hallway. You feel akin to a pliant plaything in the space between her and the door. Her fingerprints mark your body as hers. Many things are running through your head. Your arms hang from your shoulders idly, not knowing where to touch her. The kiss feels ardent, sure, but you also wonder if you're a good kisser to her. Your tongue explores her mouth in a slightly shaken manner — martini, slightly olive-like, and some foreign taste you can't quite identify. Then, the senior project occupies your mind for a split second. Should you be re-writing the abstract? Have you run it through your grammar checker? Shouldn't you be focusing on kissing Liz instead?
You search for your keys inside your wallet. They're inside the coin pocket. "The one with the circle head," you say as you hand her your key ring, and she quickly inserts one of the keys into the lock. You're not sure if it's the correct one — in a haste and all. There are your house key and room key that have a circle head.
The door opens; it's probably the correct one.
You stumble backwards as the door gets pushed back into your room. The kiss remains fiery and passionate. Your mind remembers that the space is pretty well-kept aside from the occasional mess on your table — a popcorn bag and a stack of stuff that has been building up for six months. Never bothered clearing it. The room smells of the air freshener you sprayed before you left. You always do this before you leave, just in case. The floor is already swept — can't have the girls' feet get even dirtier because of the dust on your floor.
Liz hastily kicks away her sneakers, striking your flip-flops into disarray. You are a little less frantic with the act, trying to align the shoes together nicely with a few kicks as your clothes get pulled by Liz, so determined to bare you to the almost-darkness of your room. External light breaks through the gap in your curtains, lighting the room up by a small notch.
Still kissing and clawing at each other's garments, Liz leads you to your own bed. Your body becomes more and more docile with each second that passes. Liz remains ardent with her tongue, sweeping the inside of your mouth with little resistance, savoring the aftertaste of the olive and your saliva. The latter doesn't feel foreign to her at all. She just keeps devouring you in that fashion of a predator and its prey. You keep stepping backwards until your calves hit the edge of the bed, and you fall down onto the mattress.
Without any hesitation, lips still on yours, Liz begins her ritual of undressing you. Her hands expertly find the buttons on your black shirt, as though she has done this so many times before. You quiver as your chest becomes exposed to the heat of your room — likely been building up since the afternoon. Liz draws a line on your body with her hand as the other works on your buttons. Your tremble gets even more intense when she finds your hard nipples under the sleek fabric. She circles it carefully, and that elicits a loud moan out of your lungs. This is no different from the other occasions. Your nipples are sensitive — highly. Women crave them. Those buds are so, to say it crassly and incorrectly, suckable. You thrash and writhe under Liz's firm body as you let her grope you with her playful hands, and you just let her do it.
Your buttons come off their holes eventually, and you shake yourself out of the black garment quickly. Liz throws your shirt away before pulling back from the kiss, and you get to properly breathe for the first time in minutes. A string of saliva connects your lips together obscenely, and she licks her lips to cut it off. What a frame.
"Do you have a tie?" Liz suddenly asks, hot breath touching your lips, and your brows clench slightly at the question.
"What?" you respond, unable to make sense of her question. "I-I mean, yeah, but why?"
Liz smirks before wrapping her hand around your neck as if to choke. Zero pressure from her hand, however. She just rests her hand there, examining the skin of your neck.
"Good boys … need a leash," she whispers seductively, putting force on your neck a little — not too hard, just enough for you to feel it along your skin.
You gulp before choking out, "It's-it's in the wardrobe, inside the-the little white basket."
Liz chuckles, putting a finger on your lips. "Stay here, pretty boy, while I go get your leash," she murmurs sultrily, before getting off your body for the tie. You lie on your bed idly, waiting for her to get your piece of cloth. Thoughts race through your mind — scattered, unkempt. There's this week's Fantasy Premier League transfers. There's the dispersed shoes on your floor. There's a weird math fact: every number that can be multiplied by three has its digits add up to another number that can be divided by three. Your fingers mingle with the fabric of your shirt drunkenly. God, you're wasted. At least you're wasted with Liz.
Luckily, Liz discovers your tie pretty fast, and she strides back towards you, teasing the piece of cloth in her hand. Your cock twitches in anticipation under your slacks, ready to spray spurts of cum into her hot, fertile womb while she rides you zealously. She's going to choke you with your own tie, and you'll be more than happy to let her do it.
When Liz reaches you, she climbs atop your pliant body. Her hands hike her dress up slightly before straddling you by the thighs. The scene gives you a view of her smooth, milky thighs wrapping around yours. She's not going to let you put your tongue on them so damn easily, of course. Perhaps you can breed her deep and passionate, and she might let you touch her. Your cock strains against her pretty cunt under the panties, ready to burst out of your pants at any minute.
She wraps the tie around your neck rather quickly, letting the cold of the cloth touch your skin. You shiver slightly at the touch, and she starts making a knot for you, making it a leash to control you, for you to obey her.
If she knows how to do it, of course.
Seconds tick away, each movement stirring a tinge of boredom inside your mind. Liz can't make a knot with your tie. She struggles with it. You hear her breathing becoming faster and faster, failing to compose herself as her hands grow more and more desperate on your neck. A gust of wind blows into your room, letting the light shine through the gap between your curtains. It rests on her face gorgeously, but you can also see the crimson blossoming on her face. Her legs shake around yours. She's not ready for this.
The need to take her emerges as your cock strains against her cunt under the thin piece of cloth. She squirms softly on top of you, and you can see it. You can feel how her pussy brush against you; each instance of friction sends a wave of lust through your body. What if you just flip her over and fuck her senseless instead of letting her take you? Tie a knot around her neck and use it as a leash. Make her take your cock while you pull her by the cloth — by the mouth, by the cunt. Put her into an ahegao — eyes rolling upwards, tongue lolling out of her lips like a cheap whore.
You take a glance to your left, making sure that there are no hard objects that could hurt her.
There's none.
So you utter—
"Slut."
Liz's hands freeze. It's her entire body, actually. Her mouth opens slightly, definitely shocked at your crass words aimed at her.
Then, with force, you grab her by the wrists.
And you flip her over. Her back lands on your bed with a thud.
Liz is still too shellshocked to come up with a response. Her body squirms under you as she looks away from your eyes — ashamed, dictated. She's supposed to be the one dominating your ass! Her breasts jiggle slightly with the motion. You draw her arms up above her head before pinning her down with only one hand, revealing the smooth armpits hidden beneath her limbs. Your other hand works on the barely knotted tie wrapping around your neck, unscrambling it with ease — only a pull and it's off. With dexterity, you tie the knot around her neck without much of a hassle. The tie drapes off her chest nicely. It looks great on her, just needs to remove the dress now.
"Turn around," you order, voice almost a roar. You release the grip, letting her shift to lying stomach-flat on your mattress. The steps are crystal clear, and she follows them in a docile manner. She sits up on the mattress, staring into your eyes before having to look away out of the shyness that has been building up inside her since you grabbed her by the thin wrists. God, she's just a girl, isn't she? Liz then turns herself around before settling herself on the bed again, now with the smooth expanse of her back laid upon your eyes. You reach out to her skin, feeling the way her loosened hair curtains her back, feeling the elegance of her exposed back, and it makes Liz quiver slightly.
"Don't-don't do that!" Liz rasps. You trace lazy circles on her upper back, just above the tantalizing zipper that holds her dress together. Slip it down, and she's yours. For the time being? She just keeps shaking under your palm.
You scoff before responding, "You're far from the position to be saying that, Miss," and you lean into the side of her ear. The aroma of her sweat and perfume wafts into your nostrils. The urge to spread your tongue over her lobe catches fire, to taste the sweat lingering on her. Your voice descends into a soft, seductive whisper. "Now, here's what I'm going to do."
Your hand tugs at the metal on her dress, teasing her of pulling it down and showing her bare, smooth back. Liz's breathing becomes more and more erratic with each second that passes. The anticipation lingers in the air of your room, intersected with the heat building up since the afternoon — westward window.
"I'm going to ask you just once. Are you in … or out?" you ask, reaching for the tie wrapping around the hollow of her throat before tugging at it lightly — not meant to cut her air. She lets out a whimper. "If you're out, just walk right out that door, go do whatever the fuck you've been doing for the last twenty years. I'm not going to stop you. Consent is sexy, and I agree with that statement," you roar from the depths of your lungs, other hand still teasing her zipper, threatening to pull it down. "But if you're in… I'm going to make you regret it with your life. I'm going to break you from the inside out. I'm going to fuck this pussy until you can't walk, can't speak, can't fucking think past how good it feels to be owned and used."
You hear a whimper leaking out from the space between her lips when you finish your promise. She's struggling to give you a definite answer. It's enticing to just leave you high and dry in the wake of your lust. How dare you defy her authority and pin her against your bed like this? She was supposed to be the one domming your submissive ass and making you call her a Mommy under her! However, being fucked senseless does not require the ability to think. Her mind doesn't need another burden on top of the projects and assignments that have been plaguing her well-being. Oh, to have her pussy well-fucked by your dick, breeding her with your fertile cum until it leaks out from the hole. How bad can a slut-out session be?
Finally, she utters weakly, "P-Please … use me."
It's not exactly a switch-being-turned-on type of situation, more like pushing from a seventy to a hundred. And so, you let go of the tie that has been restricting her air. Her head falls onto your mattress in a millisecond, and you pull your head back. You focus on pulling her zipper down with her arms lying idly at her side — not resisting, not stopping you. The act slowly reveals more and more of the smooth expanse of her back. Dragging the zipper down, there's nothing underneath her dress — no bra day, perhaps. You draw a trail down the middle of her back with your other hand, following the motion of the zipper downwards, and she can only shudder in response to your touch. Her skin feels so smooth, with a few pimples here and there. It's unavoidable, really. You pull the metal piece down until it reaches the bottom of the line, and you open her dress, fully revealing her gorgeous, cream-colored back. Liz gasps as the heat of your room envelops her frame. You can see beads of sweat forming on her skin, and God, isn't it irresistible?
Like scripted, you paste your tongue on her spine, dragging it upwards along the valley. Liz whimpers in pleasure at your touch, unable to make sense of why the fuck you would lick her dirty, sweaty back like this. It's salty on your tongue — a lot of sodium. The aroma is nothing but musky, and a tad of her body wash remaining from the last shower. Your flesh runs through the smoothness of her skin up to her neck, and Liz moans again, barely able to contain the bliss blazing inside her.
"You taste so good, Liz," you murmur into her ear, pulling her dress down more. The globes of her ass become more exposed as a result. Liz shimmies on your bed to let you take her dress off with zero regard to it being all crumpled. Your lips plant small pecks along her body downwards, making her jolt with each contact. You travel down to the flesh of her cute ass, hands dragging the dress down even further. Her flesh is so meaty, so mouthwatering, and you just stop to drool right fucking there.
"What are y-you doing? Pull it down, please," Liz rasps, face buried in your mattress to hide the crimson blooming in her cheeks. "N-need your cock, Da—"
Emergency button pressed, the moniker hasn't leaked out yet. Liz digs deep into your bed, unable to compose herself in a state of reticence. Her cadence is all over the place, and it's all because of you.
"Not until I mark this body mine, babygirl," you respond with a smirk, lips so close to the flesh of her ass. You give her a kiss eventually, caressing the rear like your life depends on it. Liz whines whorishly into the hot air of your room, and you couldn't be happier with the result.
Your tongue digs deeper into the valley, tongue sweeping the inner side of her cheeks, grazing the cloth of her red lace panties. You pull the dress down even more, letting the friction make her tremble, until it rests along her ankles. Her rear is fully exposed, bared to the heat. She's tomato red all over — so pliant, so ruinable.
You have only one thing on your mind, however.
"Turn around for me again, babygirl," you order softly — not much of a bark now. She follows without a thought, turning her body around while kicking her dress away to the edge of your bed.
And there they are.
Her tits are splayed on her body, sitting beautifully atop her sculpted curvatures. The nipples remind you of the chocolate you've gotten used to — so, to say it crassly and incorrectly again, suckable. Her abs look nothing short of spectacular — leg raises, planks, crunches — with a sheen of sweat, and you just have to give it a long, confident lick up her tummy. Her body quivers in response.
Your lips move towards her perfect breasts, latching on to her left nipple akin to a baby. Your tongue takes swipes on it hungrily, and Liz just moans breathlessly into the thick, sweat-inducing heat of your room. On the other side, your hand kneads her breast possessively, marking the body as yours. Liz thrashes under your touch. Her summery perfume and musk fill your nostrils, driving you more feral with your licks. There's the light taste of her sweat lingering on her tits — salty again — and you're more than ecstatic to let her simmer inside your mouth. God, her body is such a delicacy.
Satisfied with her mounds, your lips move downward — ribs, tummy, to the hem of her red lace panties — planting slow, passionate kisses along the trail. Liz trembles with each peck of your flesh, letting out cute moans repeatedly. Then, you carefully pick up the edge of her rosy fabric with your teeth — trying to be sexy, not painful to her. Your hands grab the spheres of her pretty ass, feeling how they squish between your fingers once you put force on them. Liz squeezes a breathless whimper out of her lungs. Your teeth begin to pull the piece of crimson garment down her legs, revealing the delicate, unshaven, mouthwatering cunt beneath. She's already dripping with juice from your touches — bet that it's salty just like her sweat. You drag the fabric down to her feet, socks still on. Now, it's just her, your tie, and the socks.
Professionalism is required in your room, so they stay on.
"I-I forgot to shave," Liz mutters, trying to cover her gorgeous, delicate pussy with her hand. "I'm sorry."
You glance up at her face, resplendent features looking so remorseful. She shouldn't be. You let go of the panties clinging to your teeth. "Sorry for what?" you reply, chuckling. "You're beautiful as you are, Liz."
"W-what? I-I thought you wouldn't like it …" she says shyly, looking away to the side as she tries to avoid your eyes.
You give her a sincere smile, at least you're trying to be. "I couldn't have asked for more, babygirl."
And she turns back to you, asking, "Really?"
"Really," you respond — assuring, encouraging — before you crawl up your bed over her gorgeous body. Liz gazes up at you; the tinge of shame still lingers — the feeling of not being enough. Your hand wanders on her body — from her pussy, to her abs, to her breasts — and you kiss her. The taste of olives lingers in her mouth, though there's a little more of her foreign saliva now — addictive, intoxicating. Your tongue sweeps the inside of her mouth with ease; she lets you. You knead her breasts with your hand affectionately, eliciting whimpers into your mouth. Liz's hands, knowing their jobs, try to undo your pants — from the belt, to your button, to the pushing down. Your body quivers slightly as the heat of your room envelops your legs, still smelling like sweat and a tad of the lingering air freshener.
"You're so hard," Liz utters into the kiss, palming your crotch just like Yujin did with the man inside the club, albeit with a complete lack of confidence. Then her hands slip into the space between your skin and the fabric all of a sudden, and it just drives you moan into her pretty mouth. You thrash atop her for a split second, and that seems to make Liz chuckle softly.
Your hand starts to move southbound on her body, travelling across the taut stretch of her skin until you reach the heaven of her pussy. Her hair brushes against your fingers softly, and Liz moans into your mouth. The clit isn't too far from your hand now, but a tease would be nice. Your fingers divert from the path ever so slightly towards her meaty thighs, bringing out a gasp from her lips. Her body squirms under you as you tease the fuck out of her thighs — caressing, brushing, fondling. The wetness ghosts your fingers. Though as much as you want to plunge your digits into her cunt and pump out her salty juices, making her scream into the thick air of your room, tormenting her first makes the end product all sweeter. Perhaps more nectar when she explodes, wetting your bed in the fashion of a whore.
"P-Please," Liz rasps into your mouth, removing her hand from your boxers, desperately trying to guide your hand into her pretty cunt. You keep brushing her off.
"Not now, babygirl," you respond. "Don't rush this."
Maybe she knows how to break you, she utters, "Please, D-Daddy."
Well, maybe your fingers aren't enough now. The carnal need just reaches a new height.
You pull away from her lips immediately. A string of saliva connects your mouths briefly — just enough to make it hot. Liz looks at you, quizzed as you lick your lips, readying yourself to savor her fully, making her collapse with your tongue.
You crawl back slightly on your knees, eyes examining her gorgeous body carefully — the smooth skin, the clean armpits, the perfect breasts, the hard abs, the unshaven mound, the meaty thighs. God, she's just perfect. You move downwards until your face is level with her folds, and you bend down.
The musk of her sweat and the aroma of her perfume fill your nose immediately as you lean over. Each molecule was perfectly designed to drive you ferocious, making you hungry for her salty, wet cunt. No thigh kissing anymore. You watch as her juice leaks out of her cunt lewdly, so ready to lube your cock with it. She shines against the darkness of your room, briefly interrupted by the light peeking through the curtains from time to time. Her stomach rises and falls in anticipation of your tongue lapping on her pussy. She's just so mouthwatering, so delicate, so ruinable.
And you begin.
The first lap of your tongue makes her jolt intensely, moaning, unable to compose herself under the heat of your room. You bury your nose in the folds of her cunt, gathering that scent that has been building up throughout the night — sweaty, musky, unique. The smell of her pussy electrifies your synapses into a frenzy, and the second touch follows suit quickly. Liz jolts again — this time a tad less intense. Your hands grip her thighs for holds, cleanly cut nails dig into her soft skin, likely leaving red welts on the perfect canvas. Then, with the third lick, Liz jumps in ecstasy, letting out another desperate whimper into the thick air. Fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, then you lost count. Your tongue drags on her cunt in an upward motion, gathering her natural lubricant oozing out of her walls onto your flesh — salty. The taste combined with the smell trigger the need to drink her nectar inside you. God, going to fucking make her squirt and piss into your mouth.
If someone told you in the morning that, tonight, you're going to a body worship session with Liz — the girl in the back of your classroom, a MOBA addict — you'd slap their ass in disbelief. You mean, sure, she's kind of pretty in your eyes, not quite your type but you wouldn't say no if she confesses her love for you. Worshipping her body, however, has never been on your mind — not a feasible target. She's always in a big hoodie that hides the curves and contours of her body, along with Yujin and Leeseo. At best, it's an oversized t-shirt that doesn't attract your eye. The two of you have never quite properly talked as well. It's just a few exchanges about work at most. Never thought about kissing her with an olive between your mouths. Never thought about dragging your lips on her skin. Never even thought about eating her out and making her squirm akin to a harlot like this.
(Not that you've never taken a quick glance at her ass, of course. Her garments just don't really allow you to take in the view of her curves — hoodie, sweatpants, sneakers. You thought that she was a flat-out virgin nerd who doesn't even know how to masturbate!. Now, though, she's writhing like a whore because of you — a goddamn slut. It's a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.)
Your tongue remains steady with the pace. You've read it somewhere — keep it consistent, don't rush even when she's close — probably on Reddit of all places. Liz's body thrashes and squirms around you, thighs pressing together into your head, squeezing your hair into a mess. You can feel the force being applied to the sides of your head. Your hands fondle her legs beside your head, giving her goosebumps and a whine that's leaving her mouth. Her cunt coats your tongue with the saltiness leaking out of it. You could've just bred her right here and now, making her wail around your cock like a bitch, but her pussy is just irresistible to your tongue. The carnal need to savor her is just, well, like a fire that cannot be extinguished. So, you delay the breeding session by a few minutes; her cunt tastes that good.
Liz moans with each of your licks, screaming into the dark vastness of your room. Her hips bounce off the mattress with each jolt inflicted through her frame. Your tongue keeps on coaxing more and more nectar out of her pussy, granting you the salt swimming in the fluid. Your hands grip the plushness of her thighs, pulling her in a tad closer to taste her just a little more. Her cunt envelops your nose now, letting your tongue dig deep into her, licking upwards to her pretty clit. You feel the walls contract and soften around your tongue, and that's when you decide to push forward — make her scream, make her your personal, free-use harlot.
Suddenly, pulling your mouth back, you insert your fingers into her lovely pussy, enjoying the way her walls tighten and loosen around your digits. Liz yelps in shock, unable to comprehend the intensity of your attack on her. Judging from the noise she has been making, her tongue is probably falling out of her mouth now. Then, you push her harder, plunging your fingers into her as deep as you can, and you curl your fingers up.
She jumps.
"Daddy! It's-it's so—" and it's interrupted by another moan when you press the button again. You look up to her face, taking in the view of her eyes drifting up and tongue lolling from the vastness between her lips, and the best part is: she's smiling through all of this. You keep stimulating her, making her your bitch, thrashing and writhing from the forces applied by your fingers.
Your throat is getting dry, however.
Without mercy, you press your lips around her swollen clit, and her thighs tighten around you. Your tongue nibbles on her nub as your fingers work inside her tight, wet cunt, curling them up where she needs the most. Her entire body shakes with ecstasy as a result of your relentless stimulation. God, you're fucking her good.
"D-Daddy, I'm-I'm close!" Liz whines, her hands pressing your head into her harshly. Her nails are going to leave red marks on your head tomorrow morning. You're not upping your ante, might ruin the entire night. Her walls tighten around your fingers harder than ever, unable to take your assaults on her body anymore. You keep your pace — curl and lick, curl and lick. Your free hand caresses her thigh. Her legs press hard on your head. Your tongue works on her clit. Her cunt keeps leaking juice. Your nose is buried inside her folds. Her—
It starts with a spurt into your mouth, and you latch your mouth onto the cunt immediately. Your nose buries itself in her bush. You relax your throat, letting her salty nectar enter your stomach directly. Some of it drips down your chin onto your bed — going to leave a smell. Your tongue keeps lavishing her clit hungrily — fleshy, swollen — trying to keep the fire within her womb burning. Liz's body thrashes with an unmatched intensity, nails digging into your scalp with the unbearable pleasure that courses through her pliant frame. Her taste is so tart to your tongue, and you're getting addicted to it.
Liz keeps whining and moaning into the air, tongue probably hanging from her mouth judging by the sound she makes. It's quite a treat to see her come undone like this, wouldn't have expected even a bit during your class that you're going to eat a MOBA-addicted, nerdy girl out like this. You've just discovered a hidden slut within this girl, and you're never going to forget about this.
After a few sprays, her orgasm subsides, replaced by the silence and her soft airy puffs. Her entire body flushes red under the light streak shining through the gap between your curtains. The aroma of her musk fills your nostrils. It ends eventually — serene, calm, peacef—
Her cunt gushes another wave of fluid into your mouth, this time saltier, this time warmer, less musky. It flows down your throat, and you take all of it. Your mind is going so feral with lust right now. Liz lets out these embarrassed whimpers into the air, losing self-control on your lips. In other words, she's pissing into your mouth, and you're drinking it with ecstasy.
"I'm sorry, D-Daddy, I'm so, so sorry," Liz rasps as her cunt is still discharging her warm urine into your mouth. She makes no effort to stop you whatsoever, gripping your hair tightly, holding your head in place. Your eyes roll up with desire as you drink her piss. Her body shakes under the weight of bliss — no composure, no reticence. And you? You just grip her thigh tightly, pinning yourself onto her pretty pussy without any hesitation, humming with the satisfaction of her salty flavor on your tongue.
Ultimately, Liz's pungent stream in your mouth subsides, leaving her breaths ragged and unrhythmic. Her body quivers under the waves of aftershocks crashing through her pliant body. You just swallowed all of her musky juice — squirt and piss — down your starving body, and you couldn't have been happier. She just tastes so fucking good. Every part of her body is a sin you can't resist indulging in.
"It's fine, baby," you respond. Salt lingers inside your mouth, plaguing each word you speak with its taste. It makes you wince slightly. Her piss lingers inside your stomach, smearing your body with filth. You feel nothing but elation and pride. Making her come undone is something you'll never forget.
Liz peers down at her body, watching you process her juices. "Y-you really drank it."
"And I love it, babygirl," you reply before slurping on her one last time, tasting the heady remnants of her cunt that has been driving you insane for the entire night. Your mind flutters once more. "You like that? You like it when Daddy drinks your piss?"
Liz lets out a slight smile, uttering, "Y-yes, Daddy."
You grin back at her before pulling your fingers out of her cunt. They're drenched with her syrupy lubricant — so filthy, so obscene. You gave them a suck — as expected, salt. Your eyes flutter slightly at her taste, and you hear a giggle from Liz.
"I can do it again, Daddy," Liz says mischievously, biting her finger as she threatens you with another good time — her last bit of control against you, being a bratty slut.
Chuckling, "I've had more than enough, babygirl." Her attempt at this is nothing more than cute, would still ruin her until she can't walk back properly to Yujin.
You crawl back up along her body, and Liz watches you with a glint of excitement in her eyes. Your lips make kisses along her body — hairy cunt, taut abs, firm breasts, to the hollow of her neck. She keeps shivering with each peck on her frame. Every square centimeter of her body feels so perfect to you. Your hands caress her body carefully, enamored of how her skin feels on yours, and you just can't help but utter, "You're beautiful, Liz."
Liz smiles, glancing away from your eyes. "Y-you only say this because I'm under makeup! You won't say this in our classes," she says shyly, scarlet lingering on her cheeks.
You giggle. "Yeah, can't say that I've always been ogling you either." Your hand tilts her head back, though, making her look into your eyes. "I see you now, though. I see you, Liz."
Liz's smile widens on her angelic face, unable to resist your praise. Her dimples become more prominent. "Really? You'll wave at me when we walk past each other now?"
"I promise," you say, and that seems to put her into contentment — all grinning and such. Then you kiss her, mouth reeks with the smell of her piss. She doesn't mind, however, still capturing your lips so ardently, tongue twirling inside your mouth to get a taste of her own filth. You can just say cut and end the night here, really. It's already perfect as is. To breed her, though, to fill womb up with your potent cum and watch it leak out of her pussy obscenely would be quite an image — one that you can't resist.
You grind your covered erection against her exposed, leaking cunt, making your boxers catch a little of her juice on the fabric. Liz's body shudders with each contact of your tent on her pussy, moaning into your mouth needily — so desperate for your cock. Your hand kneads her perfect, round breasts, fingers stimulating her nipples simultaneously, and that just makes Liz cry even more in pleasure. It's a treat. You feel so big, so powerful on top of her body.
Liz's hands move down your body to the edge of the last barrier to your cock. She kisses you hungrily, barely able to contain the need to swallow you whole, to make you breed her right. Her hands hastily pull your garment down, and your cock springs free, slapping against her pussy lewdly. God, if only her pussy lips already feel so good, that wet, velvety walls are going to be a life-changing experience.
You take your boxers off finally, throwing them God knows where. Your body is almost fully bare now, leaving on only the socks you've been wearing since the club. Liz grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her taut, sweaty body. The lips are still intertwined as this needy ball of lust — inseparable. Your hand attempts to guide your cock into her pussy, finding entrance awkwardly below the kiss. Liz squirms uncontrollably, desperate to have your cock fill her up like she's your slut already.
"Daddy, please," she rasps into your mouth. "F-fuck me," so needy for your dick, needy for you to fill her up and breed her real good.
You hum between the kiss, "Don't rush, baby," still trying to align her entrance with the tip of your shaft. Liz's hand becomes more and more impatient as each second passes. Her fingers are spreading her pussy, easing your cock into her.
You find her eventually.
Liz whimpers into your mouth whorishly, eyes wide open with the first touch of you inside her cunt. With each centimeter, your cock splits her pussy with its width. Her walls are so warm, so wet, so velvety. You can barely comprehend the sensation wrapping around yourself right now. It's always a wonder, isn't it? To fuck someone like this.
Halfway in, Liz's body shrieks under yours, letting out a sharp, unadulterated wail all over your room. It's there. You're hitting the spot. Her eyes roll upwards in pure ecstasy, barely capable of retaining the little composure she has left in her brain. You pull back from the fiery kiss just to watch her face come undone. Under the low light, her body flushes red. Her eyes are still looking upwards with pleasure. The breaths are ragged, uneven. Her tongue falls off the edge of her mouth lewdly. You push in further, using the little friction against her inner heaven to make her whimper akin to a harlot.
"D-daddy, it's-it's so big," Liz mutters weakly as you push forward into her, making you smile at the praise. The walls contract and relax around your cock — an imprint of her excitement to be used and bred by you. Her breaths rag. Her pupils dilate. Her body flushes. She's just so thrilled to be fucked like this.
You push into her until you finally hilt inside. Your cock twitches between her walls as she flutters around you wildly, threatening to milk you for all you're worth. Her cunt feels heavenly — so wet, so warm. Your body just can't resist the urge to pump her cunt, fill her with your white fertility, putting a baby inside her womb.
So you do it. You fuck her cunt.
You start with pulling out of her hole. Lewd, wet, sticky sounds lull in the air. Liz moans whorishly as the friction on her sensitive point hits a new high. Her eyes lost focus, looking upward with her tongue lolling out of her mouth akin to a slut. Not that you're silent, of course. You groan and grunt with how good her drenched pussy feels, hugging your cock so comfortably.
And you piston back into her.
Liz's body trashes catastrophically as your cock plows her with no mercy. Her velvety walls contract around your shaft intensely with the violent sensation coursing through her pliant frame, milking you for all you're worth. Your dick feels nothing but bliss wrapped in her tight, wet cunt. It's just so much, so loud, so filthy. Then you pull back, making wet, sticky sounds beneath you with your hardness. The suction is so intense that it almost makes you cum inside her fertile womb right here and now. You resist it, of course, not until you make her into a complete slut — your complete slut.
The motion begins to set in. You fuck Liz in slow, deep strokes, stimulating her pussy with the thickness of your cock. She whimpers every time you hit the sensitive spot inside her, struggling to keep her precious composure with you. Your cock is just that good. Her face starts to melt into this slut-out state — both eyes drifting up, tongue hanging off her mouth.
And you have to say: she looks wonderful with an ahegao on her face.
Your hips thrust into her body with care. She's already squirming at this pace. Your body feels jolts and shocks shooting through it, lighting your synapses aflame with the warmth of her pussy. You can feel the way her cunt pulses rhythmically around your dick with this speed you're fucking her. God, she just feels perfect — wet, warm, tight.
Your room reeks of sweat and sex — musky, tart, intoxicating. The light isn't on, but the peeking from the outside is already enough for the two of you to keep fucking like rabbits. Your mattress is probably drenched with her sweat and squirt and piss at this point, but you're more than happy to sleep with the smell of her filth, letting her imprint her mark inside your room. Who would've thought that you'd get crazy about this nerd in just a single night like this? The need to swallow her whole consumes you, to have her as yours, to have her as your slut.
With each stroke, it brings you closer and closer to the edge, pushing you towards the sought-after ecstasy you've been craving. Your hands get messy playing mindlessly with her (or your) tie, pulling her by the neck up from your mattress. Her abs tense up as you wrench her body towards you. She looks so fucking sexy like this — eyes up, tongue out, with a tie and socks, so lewdly professional.
"Gonna breed your pussy now, baby," you rasp, her tells emerging as well. Her frame begins to shake under you, teetering near the precipice. The walls are tightening around your cock, so fucking determined to coax white, hot, fertile cum out of your slit. It's there. She's there. She's close.
"Breed me—ah—Daddy!" she shouts, tongue rolling out of her mouth, eyes barely focusing on anything but to make you tense up with her expression. Her hands grip your waist tightly, doing her best not to let you go so easily. And suddenly, she locks your body tight with her muscular legs — those squats pay off, really. She has no plan of letting you go, and you're not leaving her, either.
So, breed her.
As the tide rises, you piston into her pretty cunt faster and faster, blazing with the need to fill up her womb with your fertility, flooding her, fucking her proper. You wrap the tail of her tie around your hand, pulling her in close to your face — so intimate. Your foreheads touch each other as sweat falls down from your skin. You keep rutting into her vigorously, eager, determined to make her drenched with your sperm. She's still making an ahegao, unable to control herself anymore. She's a slut — your slut.
And she cums.
You can feel the way Liz's thighs quiver as the second wave of her squirt hits your pubic bone. Her body trembles uncontrollably under you — tongue out, eyes up. She's wetting your bed this time, but you have no plans to wash the bedsheets, however. Let her simmer in the fabric, sleep with the smell of her cunt wafting into your nose every night. Let her linger beside you. Make her yours.
You quickly follow suit, spilling your potency into her tight, wet cunt. Stars are in your eyes. Your breath hitches — divine experience. Her body welcomes you, letting your cum flood her hole without any resistance. Your body quakes with the orgasm coursing through you. From the first eye contact in the club, talking, olive-tasted kiss, sweat on her back, eating her out, making her cum, and soaking her womb with your cum, it's quite a night — one of the best.
The tsunami passes eventually, leaving you and Liz in the wake of your afterglows. Her body shudders in a rhythm, walls still contracting around your cock. Your cock twitches inside her. Drizzles of cum leak out of your slit into her pussy. Her face relaxes, eyes peer back at you, tongue retracts back into her olive-tainted mouth. Your body softens along with hers, and you swear that she's one of the most gorgeous women you've ever seen — bare, socks-clad, basking in the afterglow.
"Who would've thought?" she asks.
"Yeah, who would've thought?" you respond as you pull yourself out of her pussy, letting your cum dribble down to your bed, before slowly collapsing down on her body feebly — spent, empty, tired. She wraps her arms around you, holding you in her warmth tightly.
"You're the best," Liz says, breaths still ragged and out of rhythm. She smiles up at you, looking all exhausted after the intense fucking you just gave her. "Never thought I'd be doing this with you."
"You always play that MOBA game in class. The most I knew about you was only your name just a few hours ago," you say with a giggle. Your hand caresses her face softly. "Maybe I should learn more about you, shouldn't I?"
Liz chuckles. "Oh, are you asking me out on a date now?"
"Maybe," and you shrug, making Liz giggle again.
"Change it to definitely, and we'll talk."
"Well, then, definitely, maybe."
"You're just trying to quote a movie now."
"I know, babygirl."
Then a kiss — not too intense, just a peck on the lips — and we're doing an iris out. Let's focus on the two of you smiling at each other and—
