Aurora Tiger

I got the tickets for the TWICE Berlin concert. This was for their world tour, and somehow, miraculously, I managed to secure front row seats. For weeks leading up to the show, I hoped, really hoped, that the members would come down from the stage and greet the fans up close. I'd seen videos from other tour stops where they interacted with the crowd, and I prayed Berlin would be no different.

The Mercedes-Benz Arena was electric, pulsating with energy from thousands of ONCEs. The concert had been everything I dreamed of, explosive performances, stunning visuals, and the girls looking more beautiful in person than any screen could capture. Now, as the night wore on, the concert was almost nearing its end. Only one hour was left before the final bows.

Then it happened.

Jihyo, the leader, the powerhouse vocalist, the woman whose presence commanded every inch of that stage, decided to step down and greet the fans. She ran along the barricade, her smile radiant, giving high fives to everyone within reach. My heart hammered against my ribs as she approached. When her hand met mine, the contact was brief but electric, warm, soft, real. But as she moved past me toward the next section of fans, I noticed something that made my blood boil.

The guy beside me, some tall, lanky man with greedy eyes, had held onto her hand for far too long. Not just that, but as she pulled away, I watched in disbelief as he slipped his fingers around hers and removed her ring. He brought it close to his face, turning it over, examining it like some trophy he'd won.

"Hey!" I snapped, grabbing his wrist hard. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He startled, trying to pull away. "I-I was just looking-"

"Just looking?" I cut him off, my voice rising above the music. "You stole her ring! Are you insane? That's not a souvenir, you creep! That's her personal property! She trusted us enough to come down here and you repay that by stealing from her?"

"Give it back," he muttered, shoving the ring toward me.

I snatched it from his palm, my fingers trembling with anger. "Get out of here before I call security myself. You're disgusting."

He slinked away into the crowd as I closed my fist around the delicate band. It was beautiful, simple but elegant, probably with sentimental value. I looked up toward the stage, wondering if I should try to signal someone, but the music was still pounding and the lights were flashing.

Then I saw her.

Jihyo had returned to the stage, but something was wrong. She was looking down at her hand, then patting her pockets, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm. She approached the edge of the stage, standing right above where I was, and held up her hand. She pointed to her ring finger, the empty space where the band should have been, and looked out at the crowd with questioning eyes.

My heart stopped. I immediately waved both hands above my head, jumping slightly to catch her attention. When her eyes locked onto me, I slowly opened my palm to reveal the ring glinting under the stage lights. I pointed at it, then gestured toward her, mouthing "Should I throw it?"

She shook her head vigorously, signaling no. Then, to my astonishment, she moved toward the stairs at the side of the stage and came back down.

The crowd around me erupted in excited whispers as she approached. My hand shook as I held out the ring, expecting her to simply take it from my palm. But as she reached me, something came over me, some boldness I didn't know I possessed. Instead of dropping it into her hand, I reached out and gently took her left hand in mine.

Her eyes widened, dark and luminous, as I carefully slid the ring onto her finger. The touch of her skin against mine was soft, warm, impossibly intimate. I adjusted the band until it sat perfectly in place, my thumb brushing over her knuckle before I let go.

She was stunned, I could see it in the parting of her lips, the slight hitch in her breath, but she didn't stop me. She let me finish, let me hold her hand for that suspended moment in time. When I finally released her, she didn't immediately pull away. Instead, she held my gaze, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that made the world around us disappear.

It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime moment. I couldn't breathe. My lungs seemed to forget how to function as Jihyo maintained that eye contact, her expression softening into something I couldn't quite read, gratitude mixed with curiosity, perhaps. My heart hammered so hard I was certain she could hear it over the music.

Then she turned and spoke quickly to a security woman standing nearby, a stern-looking German woman with a headset. Jihyo gestured toward me, said something I couldn't hear, and then hurried back to the stage to continue the concert.

The security woman stared at me. Her eyes were cold, assessing, making me feel like I'd done something wrong even though I'd only returned what was stolen. She maintained that gaze throughout the remaining hour of the concert, never looking away, never smiling.

When the final song ended and the girls took their bows, I was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Sadness that the concert was over, that the magic was dissipating. But happiness, pure, radiant happiness, that the moment with Jihyo had happened at all. That I'd touched her hand, looked into her eyes, placed a ring on her finger like some scene from a dream.

I filed out with the crowd, my mind still replaying that eye contact, the softness of her skin. But as I reached the exit corridor, a hand grabbed my arm.

It was the same security woman from before.

"Come with me," she said in accented English, her tone leaving no room for argument.

My stomach dropped. I thought I'd done something wrong by keeping the ring instead of immediately throwing it, or perhaps Jihyo was angry about how intimate the moment had become. Maybe the company staff had called me in to give me a warning, or worse, ban me from future events.

My thoughts raced as she led me through corridors I didn't know existed, past staff-only doors, deeper into the backstage area. Finally, she stopped in front of a door with a paper sign taped to it that simply read "Jihyo" in handwritten Hangul.

"Go in," the security woman said, pointing.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. Every instinct told me to run, that this was a mistake. But curiosity and something else, hope, maybe, pushed me forward. I turned the handle and stepped inside.

The room was warm, lit by soft vanity lights. And there she was, Park Jihyo, no longer the idol on stage but a woman removing her jewelry piece by piece, wiping makeup from her face with cotton pads. She looked smaller somehow, more human, more real. She looked up as I entered, and my heart stopped all over again.

"Close the door," she said softly, her voice carrying that distinctive tone I knew from interviews, warm, slightly husky, melodious even in simple speech.

I pushed the door shut behind me, the click of the latch echoing in the small room.

"Sit," she gestured to a chair near her vanity. "Please."

I sat, my hands clammy, my mind screaming that this couldn't be real.

She turned to face me fully, her face half-bare now, makeup removed from one cheek. Without the stage cosmetics, she looked younger, more vulnerable, but no less beautiful. If anything, the naturalness of her skin, the slight redness where she'd been rubbing, made her more stunning.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, her English careful but clear. "For the ring. It was... a very important gift from my mother."

I nodded, finding my voice. "I-I saw that guy take it. I couldn't just let him keep it."

"You were angry," she observed, a small smile playing at her lips. "I saw you yelling at him. Even from the stage, I could see your face was red."

"He had no right to touch you like that," I said, the indignation rising again even now. "To steal from you. You were kind enough to come down to us, and he repaid that by..."

"By stealing," she finished. "Yes."

She stood up and walked closer, her concert outfit still on, a sparkling top and skirt that caught the light. "Fans touch me all the time," she said quietly. "High fives, handshakes, sometimes they try to grab. It is part of the job. But tonight... when you held my hand to put the ring on..." She paused, her eyes meeting mine. "It felt different."

My breath caught. "Different how?"

"Like..." She searched for words, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Like a fantasy come true. The way you did it, so gentle, so careful. Looking into my eyes. It felt unreal. Like something from a drama."

The air in the room seemed to thicken. I could smell her perfume, something floral and warm, mixed now with the scent of sweat from performing, which somehow made it more intimate.

"I have another fantasy," she said, her voice dropping lower, taking on a quality that made my skin prickle with heat. "One I've never told anyone."

I swallowed hard. "What is it?"

Her eyes darkened, becoming heavy-lidded, seductive. She reached up and slowly began unclipping her earrings, one by one, her gaze never leaving mine. "I've always wondered," she said, setting the earrings on her vanity with deliberate slowness, "what it would be like to have a fan watch me change. To see me... completely."

My mouth went dry. "Jihyo..."

"Don't speak," she whispered, her fingers moving to the zipper at the side of her skirt. "Just watch."

She slowly pulled the zipper down, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet room. The skirt loosened and she let it fall, stepping out of it with a grace that made my chest ache. She was wearing stockings underneath, attached to a garter, and simple black underwear that contrasted sharply with her fair skin.

"You look shocked," she teased, her voice breathy now. "Have you never imagined this? All those times you watched me on stage, on screen... did you never wonder what was underneath?"

"I... yes," I admitted, my voice rough. "I've imagined."

"Good," she purred, reaching for the hem of her top. She pulled it up slowly, revealing her toned stomach, the curve of her ribs, and finally, her breasts, encased in a delicate lace bra. She tossed the top aside and reached behind her, unhooking the bra with practiced ease.

When it fell away, I couldn't suppress the groan that escaped me. Her breasts were perfect, full, with dark nipples that hardened slightly in the cool air of the room. She saw me looking and smiled, a knowing, seductive smile.

"You like what you see?" she asked, cupping them slightly, lifting them as if offering them to my gaze.

"You're beautiful," I managed. "More than I ever imagined."

She laughed softly, a throaty sound. "Still so polite. Even now." She hooked her thumbs into her underwear and pushed them down, stepping out of them completely. Now she stood before me naked, unashamed, her body lit by the warm vanity lights, every curve, every secret place exposed.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the chair I sat in.

I nodded, unable to speak.

She approached slowly, her hips swaying, her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me dizzy. She placed her hands on my knees, spreading them slightly to make room for herself. Then she leaned forward, her bare chest pressing against my clothed one, her face inches from mine. I could feel her heat through the fabric, could smell the sweetness of her breath.

"Is this okay?" she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.

"Yes," I breathed. "God, yes."

She pulled back slightly, her hands sliding up my thighs, her breasts pressing harder against my chest. We were so close now, our mouths almost touching, her eyes half-closed with desire,

A sharp knock at the door made us both jump.

Jihyo's eyes went wide with panic. "Hide!" she whispered urgently, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "Quickly! Behind the outfit rack!"

She pushed me toward a rolling clothing rack filled with costumes and stage outfits. I squeezed behind it, crouching down as she grabbed whatever clothes she could find, a oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, and threw them on haphazardly.

"Coming!" she called out, her voice miraculously steady.

The door opened. "Jihyo-unnie?" It was Momo's voice, recognizable anywhere. "Have you seen the manager? My phone isn't working and I need to call my family."

"Ah, no, I haven't seen him," Jihyo replied, her voice slightly breathless but controlled. "Maybe check the catering area?"

"Okay, thanks. Sorry to bother you while you're changing."

"It's fine, Momo. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, unnie."

After Momo left, Jihyo breathed, a long, shaky exhale that seemed to release the panic from her body. She leaned her forehead against the door, her hand still gripping the handle, her chest heaving beneath the oversized t-shirt she'd thrown on.

"That was too close," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She almost caught us. She would have known, she would have seen..."

I stepped out from behind the clothing rack, my heart still hammering from the near-miss. "But she didn't," I said softly. "We're safe."

Jihyo turned to face me, her eyes wide and dark, still flushed with adrenaline. "I can't believe I just did that. I've never... I've never hidden a man in my dressing room before."

I slowly approached her, my movements deliberate, giving her space to back away if she wanted to. But she didn't move. She watched me come closer, her lips parted, her breath quickening again, for a different reason now. When I reached her, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against me. Her hands immediately interlocked behind my neck, her fingers threading through my hair, gripping tight.

I let my hands slide down, cupping her thighs, lifting her slightly so she could feel all of me. My erection was hard against her stomach, impossible to hide, pressing insistently through my jeans. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt it, her body arching into mine.

"You're so hard," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "You really want me that much?"

"More than anything," I growled.

I kissed her slowly, the way they do in the Korean dramas she starred in, the first touch was just a slight brush of lips, tentative and soft, testing the waters. But then I dove right in, capturing her mouth fully, my tongue sweeping across her lower lip until she opened for me. Our tongues met, sliding against each other in a wet, heated dance. I explored her mouth thoroughly, tasting the mint from her backstage breath freshener mixed with something uniquely her. The kiss deepened, our heads tilting, mouths opening wider, tongues stroking and curling together in a rhythm that mimicked what we both desperately wanted.

I walked her backward until her back hit the door with a solid thud. The sound echoed in the small room, but I didn't stop. I pushed her harder against the wood, pinning her there with my body while my hands found the hem of her t-shirt and shoved it up above her tits. They bounced free, heavy and perfect, nipples already tight and begging for my mouth.

I bent my head and licked them, starting with the underside, tracing the swell of each breast with my tongue before circling closer to the center. I laved attention on her left nipple, sucking it deep into my mouth, rolling it against my tongue, feeling it harden even more. She moaned, her head falling back against the door with a soft knock. I moved to the right, giving it the same treatment, sucking, licking, grazing my teeth gently over the sensitive peak until she was squirming against me, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"Please," she whimpered. "Don't stop."

I turned her around, spinning her to face the door. Her tits pressed against the cool wood, her cheek turned to rest against the surface, her breath fogging the painted metal. I kept her shirt bunched up above her breasts, leaving them pinned against the door as I reached down and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her sweatpants. I pulled them down in one swift motion, taking her underwear with them, exposing her completely from the waist down.

She was beautiful, her ass round and firm, the cleft between her cheeks shadowed and inviting. I dropped to my knees behind her, spreading her legs wider, and buried my face between her ass cheeks. I licked upward, dragging my tongue from her sensitive perineum all the way to the small of her back, then back down again. I found her pussy, already wet and swollen, and dove in, lapping at her folds with broad strokes of my tongue. I circled her entrance, teasing her, before pushing my tongue inside, feeling her muscles clench around me. I moved up to her clit, sucking it gently, flicking it rapidly with the tip of my tongue while she ground back against my face, her moans muffled against her arm.

"Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her hips bucking. "Right there, please, right there..."

I spun her around again, her back hitting the door now, her face flushed and desperate. I attacked her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin where her pulse hammered, leaving marks that would be hidden by stage makeup tomorrow. She was moaning loudly now, her hands gripping my hair, her thighs trembling.

But then she bit her lip, hard, her teeth sinking into the plush flesh, her eyes showing a flicker of reason through the haze of lust. "Wait," she gasped, even as I dropped my mouth to her tits again, sucking one nipple deep while my hand rolled the other between my fingers. "We... we have to stop. We can't... not here, not now..."

She pulled me up by my hair, her grip surprisingly strong, and captured my mouth in a fierce kiss. When we broke apart, both panting, she looked at me with dark, hungry eyes, her lip still bearing the indentations of her teeth.

"I love how horny you are for me," she whispered, her hand sliding down to palm my erection through my jeans, making me groan. "I can feel how much you want me. It's driving me crazy. But if we get caught... if anyone finds out..." She kissed me again, softer this time. "I want you. God, I want you so much. But not like this, not rushed, not terrified."

She pulled her shirt down, covering her breasts, then bent to pull her pants up, her movements quick and efficient. I watched, bereft, as she hid the body I'd just been worshipping. Then she placed her hands on my chest and pushed me backward. I stumbled and sat hard in the chair I'd occupied earlier.

Jihyo walked to her vanity mirror, adjusting her clothes, smoothing her hair, wiping at her swollen lips with the back of her hand. She met my eyes in the reflection, her gaze heated and promising.

"Instead," she said, her voice steady now with resolve, "I can get you a job. On my personal staff. A fake resume, something related to makeup, styling. You could travel with me, be with me all the time. In hotel rooms. In private. Where we won't be interrupted." She turned to face me fully. "Would you want that?"

"Yes," I said, my voice hoarse. "Yes, I want that."

"Good," she whispered.

She crossed the room to me, her hips swaying with renewed confidence. She stopped in front of my chair, then climbed onto my lap, straddling my hips, her thighs gripping me tight. She reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up slowly, inch by inch, until her breasts were exposed once more, right in front of my face, heavy, perfect, the nipples still wet from my mouth, glistening in the vanity light.

"For now," she said, her voice a seductive promise as she pressed her chest toward my mouth, offering herself completely, "let's seal the deal."

Knowing her wife, Jihyo expected to find a chubby man with stained clothes who reeked of sweat. To her pleasant surprise, when she opened the door, she found none of that; in fact, it was the exact opposite of what she’d imagined. Standing in her doorway was a beautiful woman wearing blue overalls tied at the waist. The sleeveless shirt she wore exposed her arms, revealing powerful biceps that gave away the fact that she worked out quite a bit. Or perhaps they were simply that way because of her hard work.

Indeed, the morning heat was taking its toll on her gentle face, producing a thin layer of sweat that glistened on her features. Even so, the stranger still looked beautiful. Her eyes were kind, and her slightly chubby cheeks looked even fuller because of the wide smile she was giving Jihyo.

“Good morning,” the stranger greeted her. “You called me about a problem with… the plumbing?” She ended more as a question than a statement, accompanied by a little chuckle. As if forgetting why she’d been called was something funny.

Jihyo couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, responding with a smile. “It’s the sink, actually.” She rested one arm on the doorframe and leaned her weight against it while bringing her other hand to her waist, as if she were posing for a photo shoot or something similar. Her actions immediately had the desired effect.

The stranger swallowed hard, taking in Jihyo for the first time, and not just her face. The outfit the woman had chosen for that morning was certainly revealing, to say the least. Jihyo knew she had a hot body and loved to show it off; after all, she spent too much time at the gym not to brag about her own physique.

That morning, Jihyo was wearing a sheer dress made of a lace-like fabric with intricate patterns. These patterns revealed her tanned skin and the bra and shorts she wore underneath, which were part of the set. But of all that, what caught the plumber’s attention was the neckline. Jihyo was beautiful, too, but her prominent cleavage was completely distracting the stranger. Jihyo knew it and resisted the urge to lick her lips so as not to give herself away in front of a stranger that she liked the attention from.

Jihyo didn’t want to act like a slut, much less in front of someone she’d just met, but turning heads and drawing attention was her way of getting revenge for the many ways her wife neglected her. If her wife didn’t appreciate her spectacular figure enough, Jihyo was going to show her that others certainly did. Even if her wife wasn’t there to see it.

“Why don’t you go inside and check it out?” She clearly couldn’t because Jihyo was standing there blocking the door. “I don’t want you to get heatstroke because of me.” The stranger ran her hand across her forehead, wiping away the sweat, while nodding in agreement. “This way.” Jihyo finally cleared the way, motioning for the woman to enter the house, and closed the door once she was inside. “The kitchen is this way.”

Jihyo led her, walking a few steps ahead without turning to see if she was following or not. She could hear her work boots echoing against the wooden floor and the metallic clinking of the toolbox behind her. Jihyo was more concerned with swaying her hips as she walked because she was sure the stranger had her eyes glued to her butt, it was impossible for her not to. A little more showing off wouldn’t hurt anyone, and besides, Jihyo was happy to have a beautiful woman and not a chubby, dirty man behind her. At least her wife had gotten that right, for a change. 

Of course the woman noticed Jihyo’s hips; it was impossible not to. The dress and the way she moved them as she walked made it almost impossible to look anywhere else, unless you were staring at her butt. Jihyo was proud of what she’d achieved at the gym, of the way her butt looked now. Her wife had once teased her because her butt was small and didn’t stand out, but now everyone drooled over how shapely it was. A great result of Jihyo’s hard work and stubbornness.

But the other thing Momo inevitably noticed as she walked through the house were the framed photos hanging on the walls here and there. In them, a young Jihyo could be seen, always accompanied by another woman. As they made their way through the house, the plumber saw how the photos told the couple’s story up until their wedding day. After that, there weren’t many more photos.

“Here it is.” Jihyo pointed toward the sink once they reached the kitchen. “It’s a complete mess.”

“Let me check it out first. It doesn’t look that complicated.” The plumber approached the sink to inspect it and had to wrinkle her nose when she smelled the foul odor coming from it. Whistling under her breath, she stuck her hand into the stagnant water and fished around as if that would solve the problem. “I think the pipe is clogged. I’m going to have to open it up to clean it out and see what’s going on.” She wiped her hand on her overalls before continuing. “Ma’am, this is going to take a little while, so if…”

“No ‘madam,’ just call me Jihyo.” For some reason she was standing dangerously close to the sink, leaning on the countertop actually, and that startled the plumber when she turned to give her diagnosis. “By the way, you haven’t told me your name.”

“Momo, my name is Momo. Ma’am… Nice to meet you.” The woman gave her a wide smile that made her look a little silly, but Jihyo had to admit that maybe that was part of her charm. Maybe. “As I was saying, I have to open up the pipes to check them. It might get a little smelly in here.”

“Don’t worry, it already stinks enough. I don’t think it’ll get any worse.” Jihyo waved her hand, as if shooing away the bad smell or Momo’s doubts. “It’s been like this for a week, so I’m used to it by now.”

Jihyo walked around the kitchen island, eventually leaning over it with her arms resting on the counter. Making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere, and also exposing more of her cleavage as she leaned forward. Momo had a hard time trying to look away, so she decided it was better to focus on her toolbox; looking for what she needed to unclog the pipes instead of staring at her client’s breasts.

After tying her hair into a bun and rummaging through her toolbox for a while, Momo found what she needed to get to work. Kneeling on the kitchen floor with half her body inside the cabinet housing the sink, she carefully inspected the pipes until she decided which one to remove first so as not to flood the kitchen with stagnant water. As a precaution, she placed a bucket she’d asked Jihyo for and removed the first section of pipe. Instantly, a flood of dirty water poured into the bucket, splashing Momo in the face. She grimaced but kept working under her client’s watchful gaze.

Jihyo didn’t understand a thing Momo was doing; she knew nothing about plumbing or that sort of thing, but she didn’t miss a single detail of her actions. Not because she thought she had to keep an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t slacking off and wasting time, but because she had decided to treat herself to the spectacle of watching Momo work. Every time she strained to loosen a pipe or reached up to grab a tool from her box, her muscles tensed, revealing just how strong her biceps were and how hard her arms were in general. 

It didn’t hurt anyone for Jihyo to stand there watching, taking in the show, while listening to the things Momo muttered to herself. The poor thing was so immersed in her work that she probably wasn’t even aware that Jihyo was feasting her eyes on her arms, wondering how Momo’s calloused hands would feel against her skin. She didn’t miss a single detail of her movements or her butt, which, despite being hidden by the overalls, was quite visible. A little fantasy on a random Tuesday morning didn’t hurt anyone. On the contrary, it actually stimulated Jihyo and made her forget the foul smell that filled the kitchen.

“I think it’s done,” Momo announced, emerging from under the sink. Her face, arms, and shirt were splattered with dirty water, causing the fabric to cling to her body in places, making it look tighter than it actually was. The splashes and sweat gave Momo a somewhat disheveled look, perhaps wild or raw, which Jihyo chose to ignore, just as she had ignored how it made her feel. “Now all that’s left is to try it.”

Momo turned on the sink faucet and watched closely as the water pooled for a few seconds before beginning to flow freely down the drain, disappearing through the pipes to some remote place. She had done it; Jihyo’s sink was fixed. Now all that was left was to get rid of the water in the bucket so the kitchen would stop stinking.

“Wow! You really did it.” Once again, Jihyo was dangerously close to Momo, so close that she could smell her perfume. It was much nicer than the smell of the water in the sink. “If you give me your details, I can transfer the payment to you, or would you prefer cash?”

“To be honest, I’d rather freshen up first. But a bank transfer is fine.”

Momo handed her a card with her account number and details before Jihyo showed her where the bathroom was and gave her a clean towel. After a few minutes, which Jihyo used to pay for her services, Momo returned to the kitchen, now free of stains and sweat.

“If you don’t need me for anything, I should go,” Momo said, scratching the back of her neck. The way her arm looked even more massive from that distance distracted Jihyo for a few long seconds.

“If it’s not too much trouble, could you get rid of the bucket? Just throw it on the plants in the backyard, please.”

It was such a small thing that Momo saw no reason to refuse; nothing stopped her from doing a small favor for a customer satisfied with her work. Taking the bucket, she went from the kitchen straight to the backyard and then came back in empty-handed. She had left the bucket outside just in case it stank too.

“I really should go now. I have a few things to check on at my shop.”

“Oh, but I can’t just let you leave like that.” Once again, Jihyo was dangerously close to Momo, as if she’d decided to ignore the boundaries of personal space. “Can I offer you some lemonade or something to drink? I’d feel bad if you left like this after working so hard.”

Momo swallowed hard, making an effort to look anywhere but at Jihyo’s cleavage, which was proving quite difficult given how close she was.

“Lemonade would be fine,” she finally managed to say.

With a smile, Jihyo turned and went to open the fridge, bending down to look for the lemonade pitcher. This time, Momo couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She’d spent the whole morning trying not to stare at her like a pervert, trying not to look at Jihyo’s cleavage or think about the sway of her hips; but seeing her bent over like that made it impossible for her to keep turning a blind eye.

Jihyo undoubtedly had the best butt Momo had seen in a long time, and from the way she lingered over taking out the pitcher, it was clear she wanted Momo to notice it. The fabric of her dress had clung to her body, clearly revealing the shape of both her buttocks, making it obvious that her shorts weren’t able to fully contain them.

She was really going to need that lemonade because her mouth had gone dry. Momo had to get out of there as soon as possible or she was going to do something crazy that would end with her getting slapped, or maybe something worse. But when Jihyo stood up with the pitcher of lemonade in her hand and kicked the fridge door shut, Momo’s legs wouldn’t respond. Much less was she able to run away when Jihyo set the pitcher down on the island and stood in front of Momo again, invading her personal space once more.

Her heart skipped a beat when Jihyo raised an arm and ran her hand just a few centimeters from Momo’s ear; Momo thought she was going to touch her. But what was actually happening was that Jihyo had opened a cabinet behind Momo, looking for a glass to pour the lemonade into. But soon none of that mattered.

The glass was too far away, the cabinet was too high, or maybe it was simply because Momo was in the way, but when Jihyo stretched too far, she slipped and fell onto Momo. To keep Jihyo from ending up on the floor, Momo grabbed her around the waist with both hands. What she couldn’t prevent was Jihyo’s chest colliding with her own.

For the second time that morning, Momo failed miserably at her self-imposed task of not looking at Jihyo like a pervert. When she looked down to check if the woman was okay, all she saw was her prominent cleavage pressed against her, giving her a perfect view of the valley between Jihyo’s large breasts. Faced with that, Momo couldn’t help but hold Jihyo tighter and press her against herself.

A strange, involuntary sound escaped Jihyo’s lips as she felt her body being handled like that. Momo’s powerful hands held her tightly, preventing her from falling, but at the same time keeping her from pulling away, from going anywhere. 

Momo was squeezing harder than she should have, but it wasn’t in Jihyo’s plans to complain about it. Instead of pulling away, she stared intently at Momo, studying her face as she lost herself in the depth of her kind eyes. Eyes that now shone with an intensity different from what they had shown until now. That kindness was still there; her gaze conveyed calm, but it also revealed a desire that had suddenly grown and was spreading like wildfire inside Momo.

Slowly lowering her outstretched arm, Jihyo wrapped it around Momo’s head, playing with the hair behind her ear. “Maybe I have another job for you…” Her voice was almost a purr.

“What would that job be?” Momo was regretting not having gotten to try the lemonade, because her mouth was as dry as if she’d been walking through the desert.

Jihyo leaned close to her ear to whisper, as if trying to hide from the world what she was about to say next. “How about you check my pipes? All of them.”

She let the sentence hang in the air without pulling away from Momo; she didn’t even try. It would probably be useless anyway, because the plumber had a firm grip on her and didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go. Her hands were firmly on Jihyo’s hips, making it look more like she was about to hug her than prevent her from falling. A hug that they were both well aware they shouldn’t share.

“I should start checking right here… If that’s okay with you.”

“You can check here… In the bathroom, in my room. Wherever you want.” Jihyo didn’t dare brush her lips against Momo’s cheek, that would be too much, but that didn’t stop her from breathing right into her ear. As if she were trying to show her without words but actions just how fast her heart was racing right now.

Momo could not only see Jihyo’s closeness, but she could also feel it. In the way her hips responded to her grip, in the way Jihyo breathed against her ear, or in the sweet scent of her perfume; which was a far cry from the smell of sweat and work that Momo carried. The plumber allowed herself to be intoxicated by that mixture of scents and sensations that was Jihyo, trying to control herself so as not to squeeze her hips any tighter for fear of hurting her. She knew this was wrong, that Jihyo was a married woman. But if she wasn’t going to worry about her wife, Momo certainly wasn’t going to either.

Realizing exactly what Jihyo’s proposal was about, that it wasn’t about a plumbing job, Momo leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to make sure to check every single one of your pipes.” That was how they stopped pretending, stopped testing the waters, and simply let themselves be carried away by the circumstances.

Jihyo not only brushed her lips against Momo’s cheek, but quickly found Momo’s lips to lose herself in a shared kiss. Right now, she didn’t want to think about the possibility of her wife coming back and finding her in the arms of the person who was supposed to fix the sink. No, right now it was more important to focus on Momo’s lips, on how her tongue was trying to invade Jihyo’s mouth, or on how her hands had started to move from her hips. 

Momo’s tongue finally made its way into Jihyo’s mouth, or perhaps it was Jihyo herself who let it in, to immediately dance together with hers, twisting in a warm, wet whirlwind. Meanwhile, Momo’s hands weren’t staying still either, positioning themselves on Jihyo’s back to hold her in a different way but still preventing her from pulling away.

Their breaths mingled as they melted further and further into that forbidden kiss. Letting themselves be carried away by desire and ignoring the logic that told them this was wrong. But Jihyo needed some adventure in her life, a change for a change’s sake, and Momo wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity if a woman as beautiful and fiery as this threw herself into her arms. Neither of them could let this opportunity pass, even if it meant losing their marriage or their job. Pleasure, lust, sin, that was all that filled their minds, clouding their judgment and pushing them a little further.

Between gasps, Jihyo managed to pull away slightly. “Let me help you find where you need to check.” With those words, she took Momo’s hands in hers, feeling how rough they were from work, and guided them down to her butt in a clear invitation to explore her anatomy more closely. Momo didn’t waste any time and squeezed the buttocks that Jihyo was so kindly offering her. 

The married woman let out a sigh that died on Momo’s lips. The plumber was strong enough to lift her just by grabbing her ass, but instead she was too busy kneading Jihyo’s well-toned buttocks. Countless hours at the gym had built up that ass and shaped it into the form it had now. The perfect size to fall into Momo’s hands, to fit between her fingers and spill out from between them when the woman squeezed her ass. Touching Jihyo’s butt was a full-fledged delight, an almost religious experience. But even more so was the way Momo’s caresses stretched Jihyo’s dress, making her cleavage look more prominent.

Between kisses, Momo could appreciate Jihyo’s bust, seeing that her breasts threatened to escape from the bra that held them captive. Nothing would have pleased Momo more than to have one of those breasts in her mouth to play with the nipple, whose edge peeked shyly out from the bra, revealing a light brown color. To suck on it and perhaps bite it, even to venture to leave marks that Jihyo’s wife would find later. 

“Did you find the problem yet?” Jihyo’s voice was a whisper between ragged gasps and passionate kisses. 

“I have to look deeper.” Momo played along, pulling her dress up so she could finally touch her skin properly. 

Indeed, the shorts she was wearing weren’t able to contain her buttocks and left half of them exposed, but the dress did the job of covering what the shorts couldn’t. Now, with the garment out of the way, Momo was free to knead Jihyo’s ass however she wanted, squeezing and spreading those delicious buttocks, molding them with her caresses and earning a moan from Jihyo. But she couldn’t stop there. 

Momo growled softly, sliding her hands down, slipping them under Jihyo’s shorts without a shred of hesitation or remorse. She grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing so hard it made Jihyo moan again, feeling how the soft skin yielded under her caresses as if it were wet clay. She spread her buttocks urgently, tracing the thin line of the thong that hid the small, tight anus beneath.

Meanwhile, Jihyo was melting in Momo’s hands, feeling her fingers explore her flesh and take possession of her. Feeling her own heart pounding against her ribs in a way it hadn’t in a long time. The flame of passion was burning fiercely within Jihyo, making her look like a lit torch in the middle of a dark cave. Her ragged breath was dying in Momo’s mouth along with the soft moans caused by Momo’s caresses on her body. 

Urgency and greed were taking hold of Momo, making her want more of Jihyo, needing more of her. Without hesitation, she dared to pull down Jihyo’s shorts, sliding them down to mid-thigh with quick movements that at times became clumsy due to urgency and excitement. As expected, Jihyo didn’t protest as Momo undressed her in the middle of her own kitchen. She didn’t seem to mind that someone she’d met less than an hour ago was exploring her body so deeply. But to tell the truth, Jihyo hoped Momo would explore her in more detail and not stop at the surface.

“I need you out of those shorts.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order. One that Jihyo obeyed by pushing the garment down herself so it gathered around her ankles, because Momo’s hands seemed glued to her ass. Then she simply kicked the shorts aside, leaving only her thong on, which covered absolutely nothing of her anatomy.  

Jihyo kissed Momo’s neck, clinging to the sides of her shirt so she wouldn’t slip again. Momo growled, unafraid to look vulnerable or to show how much the woman in her arms affected her. She had driven her crazy from the moment she opened the door to welcome her, and now she no longer needed to keep those impure thoughts about a married woman at bay. 

Demonstrating the strength in her arms, Momo lifted Jihyo and practically carried her by the hips until her feet barely touched the floor. She carried her over to the island, where she sat her on the quartz countertop with her legs spread and her dress rolled up to her waist.

“I think I’m starting to get a handle on the problem?” Momo’s hands were forced to leave Jihyo’s butt, but that didn’t mean they were moving away from her. There was plenty to touch, plenty to grab, like the married woman’s prominent cleavage.

As Momo trailed a path of kisses down Jihyo’s neck, past her collarbone until she reached her breasts, Jihyo felt things were getting serious. Which was stupid because right now she was wearing only a thong from the waist down, and Momo had already groped her entire butt. But being in a thong wasn’t the same as having her breasts exposed and a practically unknown woman sucking on her nipple.

Jihyo might have worn a similarly skimpy bikini bottom on some beach in a tropical paradise when she was feeling especially daring, or if her wife had asked her to. But that was very different. It was a beach at a tourist destination, a place where people went to have fun and tan their bodies in the sun. That had nothing to do with the kitchen in her own home, let alone having another woman eating her tits.

The moment Momo’s mouth found her nipple, Jihyo surrendered completely. In reality, she had already done so the moment she slid onto Momo, but now she abandoned any pretense of hiding how much she was enjoying this. Momo’s warm tongue worked on her hard nipple, drawing out moans she had no interest in suppressing. There was no point, since the only person who could hear those sounds was Momo, and Jihyo was sure she didn’t want to miss them. After all, she was the one to blame for Jihyo being like this.

The sweet notes of Jihyo’s perfume mingled with the soft scent of her skin, overwhelming Momo’s senses in a blinding way that led her to sink deeper and deeper into the married woman’s cleavage. Her soft breasts welcomed her with enveloping warmth and hard nipples, which Momo was caressing with her tongue and gently biting.

Jihyo pressed Momo’s head against her chest, between her breasts, to which Momo reacted by groping for her thighs. Her hands didn’t take long to find them and move dangerously close to Jihyo’s crotch, protected only by the pitiful excuse for underwear that was her thong. Such a tiny garment wasn’t going to keep Momo at bay, and frankly, at this point the thong was nothing more than a tiny triangle of fabric soaked in Jihyo’s nectar. 

Momo confirmed this when she gently pressed against Jihyo’s covered pussy. Instantly, her fingers felt the married woman’s wetness, unmistakable proof of just how much Jihyo was enjoying this illicit encounter.

“There’s a leak here I need to fix.” Two of her fingers pressed against the ruined fabric, but it was when they slid over it that a shiver ran through Jihyo’s body. From her spine to the deepest corners of her being, Jihyo felt her body melt with pleasure.

“Then go down there and check it out.” Just as Momo had done earlier when she demanded that Jihyo take off her shorts, Jihyo now took her hand and ordered her to go down and dive into the wetness of her center. Because no one in the world would have thought that was a request, Jihyo had issued a full-fledged command. An order that showed she wasn’t just going to stay there at Momo’s mercy for her to do whatever she wanted with her, but that she was going to actively participate.

Following the married woman’s orders, Momo reluctantly pulled away from her breasts to kneel down, coming face-to-face with Jihyo’s crotch. Just as she had knelt to fix the sink, she now did so to immerse herself in a different kind of wetness. One that was undeniably a thousand times more pleasurable and delightful. 

With her thumb, she pushed aside the ruined fabric, finally revealing before her the work of art that was Jihyo’s cunt. Soaked, throbbing, and burning with the fire that this illicit encounter was igniting within her. Momo could do nothing but lick her lips at such a sight, as if she were a cat eyeing a juicy fish. Or rather, like a wild feline stalking its prey, about to pounce on it and sink its claws into its tender flesh.

The calm before the storm was a few agonizing seconds during which only Momo’s breathing could be heard in the kitchen, before she finally decided to dive between the legs of a woman she hadn’t even known an hour ago. A married woman who was half-naked on the kitchen island of the house she shared with her wife. Something Momo shouldn’t be doing, but to her, it seemed like there was nothing else in the world right now.

Momo’s flat tongue landed on Jihyo’s folds, causing another moan; one more of the many Momo had elicited from her in such a short time. Something else to add to the list of things Momo had done to her that made her melt like a candle under the summer sun.

Jihyo’s nectar flowed copiously from her center, which had become a spring from which Momo quenched her thirst. Jihyo was the forbidden fruit of pleasure and lust. A ripe, juicy fruit that throbbed at Momo’s touch, releasing more and more nectar as she licked.

As if that weren’t enough, the plumber decided to push Jihyo a little further into madness. With the same finger that had earlier pushed aside the thong, Momo now caressed Jihyo’s clitoris. The bundle of nerves gave in to her caresses, sending electric sensations that made Jihyo’s toes curl and a lump form in her throat. A dry moan, almost like a growl, escaped her mouth unexpectedly.

Despite it being her first time with her, Momo quickly found Jihyo’s sweet spots. She quickly grasped where to lick and when to suck, how to move her thumb, and how deep to go with her tongue. Jihyo was an open book to Momo, who had become an avid reader of this forbidden tome. Turning page after page without missing a single detail of the reactions her reading provoked in Jihyo, who shuddered and moaned especially loudly when Momo applied more pressure to her clitoris.

Gushing like a broken pipe, Jihyo braced her hands behind her, leaning her full weight onto them and, consequently, onto the counter of the island. If her wife found her like this, lying on her back with her legs spread so the plumber could eat her pussy, it would definitely be the end of their marriage. Luckily, her wife had decided to go out and leave her home alone; now she had to face the consequences of her actions.

It was almost pathetic that Jihyo was already in heaven with so little. Just a few licks and a few strokes on the bundle of nerves that was her clitoris, and she was already moaning pitifully as her pulse quickened to the rhythm of the woman’s licks between her legs. So little caused so much in her that it was evident how neglected she was, how much her wife had been ignoring the book of Jihyo’s pleasure.

Without thinking, she grabbed Momo by the head. As if her hand were a claw and she were an eagle firmly gripping her prey so it couldn’t escape. But was it really necessary? No, of course not. Momo had knelt down willingly and had plunged into the depths of Jihyo’s crotch, seeking her own pleasure as well. Momo was satisfying her hunger, but holding her like this gave Jihyo a sense of control that she liked. It was like holding the leash of a puppy you knew wasn’t going anywhere.

If it weren’t for the fact that it would make her fall off the island, Jihyo would have been grinding her center against Momo’s face. Just as she was, supporting her weight with one hand and holding Momo with the other, it was the perfect position to do it. To let herself go, once again, and use the plumber’s face to give herself pleasure.

Momo took the hand holding her head as yet another confirmation of how well she was doing. That she was making the right decisions when licking, sucking, or penetrating with her tongue. That her thumb, instead of causing discomfort, was delivering nothing but pleasure. It wasn’t just Jihyo’s hand confirming this, but also the heat of her pussy, the small tremors in her thighs, the way her moans had risen in intensity until reaching a brazen volume. It wasn’t just Jihyo’s sweet moans bouncing off the kitchen walls, but also the way she pressed Momo’s head against her body.

Perhaps Jihyo couldn’t grind against her, but that didn’t stop her from pressing Momo deeper into her crotch. Now Momo ate with greater greed, with more brazenness, and in a more reckless manner. Jihyo’s nectar dripped down her chin, staining her neck just as sweat had done before.

There was no longer room for her hand; there was only room for her face and her hunger for the married woman. Momo pressed her face against her, practically devouring her, making wet noises as she ate her pussy. She took both of Jihyo’s thighs behind the knee and spread them as far as she could without hurting her. Pulling her, she drew her closer until Jihyo’s ass was on the edge of the precipice, practically about to fall off the island. She was only staying on the furniture thanks to Momo’s hands.

Maybe it was that wild hunger with which she was eating her pussy, or the pornographic sounds Momo made while doing it. The way the plumber’s tongue explored her insides without restraint, and her lips kissed her wet folds. It could have been being literally on the verge of falling, held up only by her hand and because her legs were draped over Momo’s shoulders. It may have been each of those things or all of them at once that pushed her over the inescapable precipice of sexual climax.

Pushing Momo’s head against her body, Jihyo came all over her face. Her pussy throbbed against Momo’s face as if trying to communicate with her in Morse code, while her nectar flowed in copious amounts, staining her entire face. Momo didn’t protest or try to pull away; she simply stayed there, drinking as much as she could with the same hunger with which she had been eating. Feeling Jihyo convulse and throb against her face.

The pleasure made her close her eyes and throw her head back like that as the orgasm hit her hard. Countless waves of pleasure coursed through Jihyo’s body, making her shudder and curl her toes. She had to make an effort not to crush Momo’s skull or break her nails against the deck of the island, she was clenching so hard. Her mouth was open as if she were about to moan, but at that very moment, when the pleasure was at its peak, Jihyo didn’t let out a single moan. She froze in silence, trying to withstand the onslaught of the orgasm, while the sun filtering through the sheer curtain created patterns on her face and bare chest.

Those were glorious moments until the pleasure began to subside and Jihyo came down from the clouds to realize she was barely keeping her balance, at this point only aided by Momo. Her legs were still draped over Momo’s shoulders, and if not for that, her ass would have slipped off the island long ago. Using the sink faucet as an anchor point, Jihyo sat back down properly, or as close to it as she could manage. After all, sitting on the kitchen island with her legs spread and her bare chest exposed wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal, especially when there was someone between her legs who wasn’t her wife.

Finally, Momo was free to pull away, to stand up, to breathe normally. Her face was covered in Jihyo’s fluids; it was obvious at a glance how they had dripped down her chin and fallen onto her shirt as well. The fluid stains mingled with the water from the sink, making it clear that Momo needed a change of clothes urgently. But even more urgent was catching her breath, because her chest was rising and falling as if she’d run a marathon, when in reality she’d only been devouring Jihyo. To her, both activities seemed equally physically demanding.

“I think that leak is fixed now.” The mischievous tone of those words didn’t go unnoticed by Jihyo, who was still catching her breath.

With her head still tilted back and her eyes closed, Jihyo gently bit her lower lip, as if trying to stifle a sigh, before saying anything. “There are still places you should check.”

“I don’t know if I should…” Momo was still hungry, but doubt suddenly crept into her mind.

“I insist you should check every corner, every pipe…” Jihyo let the words slip out as she moved her feet, which dangled from the island without quite touching the floor, playing with them with a joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Maybe my room is a good place to keep looking.”

“Do you have problems there too?” Momo’s confidence wavered as she played along with Jihyo.

“You have no idea.” Jihyo tugged on Momo’s shirt to pull her closer, making her take up the space between her legs again. With her other hand, she wiped Momo’s face, or at least her mouth, before leaning into her lips and whispering against them. “Are you going to let me show you?”

Momo couldn’t help but kiss Jihyo, sending her doubts about what she was doing back to the depths of her mind. The married woman’s offer was too tempting, too good, to think twice about accepting it. She’d already made her come once, and that “search” in the bedroom promised more orgasms for both of them. 

The disparity in their clothing had to be remedied promptly. While Momo was still fully clothed, Jihyo was missing her shorts and had her breasts exposed, plus her dress was hiked up to her waist. So she lifted Momo’s shirt, breaking the kiss just to pull the garment over her head and toss it somewhere she didn’t even bother to look. Her nimble hands then found the clasp of the bra and got rid of that garment as well. The plumber’s breasts now hung freely for Jihyo’s hands to do whatever they wanted with them.

Being naked from the waist up but still wearing the overalls tied at the waist and her work boots gave Momo a peculiar look, something you didn’t see every day. Her bare torso was beautiful. Momo’s arms were defined by her work, but the way her abs were defined was the result of something entirely different. It was clear at a glance that despite her somewhat unkempt appearance, Momo took the time to work on her body. Her powerful yet still feminine appearance combined with her work clothes to give her a somewhat raw aura, a kind of roughness that was driving Jihyo crazy. 

Clearly, Momo’s breasts were firmer than Jihyo’s. She confirmed this herself when she squeezed one, feeling the flesh of her breast spill between her fingers yet still retain its shape. Momo moaned into Jihyo’s mouth; she, too, was in need. The poor thing had eaten her cunt with a voracious hunger, receiving nothing in return but Jihyo’s moans and fluids. She had neglected herself in her quest to give the married woman more pleasure; that was something she needed to be rewarded for right now. 

Jihyo let herself fall from the counter, pressing her weight against Momo, grinding her wet center against her thigh and adding a new stain to the jumpsuit. This time it was something different from the water from the pipes, but it flowed in a similar way. 

“Bedroom… Now.” Amid kisses and sighs, the words managed to leave her mouth, but her lips couldn’t leave Momo’s. Momo held her firmly and pressed her thigh against Jihyo’s soaked center, not caring about the new wet stain forming there.

Finally, Jihyo managed to break free from Momo’s grip, not without a great effort of will on her part, and ran first out of the kitchen, then up the stairs. Momo lagged behind, standing in the same spot before deciding to go after Jihyo.

It was obvious that Momo didn’t know where the master bedroom was, or any other room for that matter, but Jihyo had left a trail of clothes for her to follow. She had gone up the stairs, Momo knew that because she had heard her, and halfway up she found Jihyo’s heels.

With every step she took, the wooden stairs creaked under the weight of her work boots, signaling to Jihyo that Momo was following the clues she had left behind. Just like Hansel and Gretel, Momo found more items of clothing along the way. First the dress, then the discarded bra a little further on showed her which direction to take. At the end of the hallway, she found Jihyo’s panties hanging from the doorknob of a half-open door, like a clear invitation to venture into the deepest recesses of the house. “The X marks the treasure,” Momo whispered to herself as she pushed the door open.

Knowing she was trespassing, the plumber crossed the threshold with a firm, determined stride. This was territory where she shouldn’t be, but she had been invited nonetheless. Momo was like a vampire lurking in the night until the maiden invited her in, except it was mid-morning and Jihyo was by no means an innocent damsel. Perhaps she was the exact opposite.

From all the clothes strewn along the path, Momo knew Jihyo was naked, but she hadn’t expected to find her like this. Jihyo was in her bed, the same one she shared with her wife every night, propped up on a pile of pillows. Her legs were spread wide, brazenly exposing her still-damp pussy, as if it were the final invitation Momo needed to erase all her doubts.

“With all that clothes on, you won’t be able to inspect it properly.” The words floated over to Momo, and then she realized she was still wearing the overalls tied at the waist and her boots. She must have looked comical, admiring Jihyo’s nakedness with her mouth slightly open, when she herself was topless and in her work clothes.

Never in her life had Momo undressed so quickly. The boots flew off her feet, and when she took off the overalls, Jihyo smiled at the sight of a damp spot on the plumber’s panties. She had caused that. Momo’s ruined panties ended up in an unorganised pile with the rest of her clothes. 

Now in the same state of nudity as Jihyo, she climbed onto the bed and crawled over to the married woman. Momo moved like a wild animal ready to attack its prey; and in fact, she was. She was ready to pounce on Jihyo and devour her once more, but the woman had other plans for her. She made that clear by grabbing Momo by the face and pulling her toward her to kiss her. Instantly, the two melted into a desperate kiss, letting their tongues battle for a few moments before pulling apart again to catch their breath.

Momo didn’t waste any time and went to kiss Jihyo’s neck, while she played with her hair and held her by the back. Momo’s back was stronger than Jihyo had thought; she could feel her muscles under her palm and trace them easily with her fingertips, drawing lines across Momo’s skin as she focused on kissing Jihyo’s neck.

“Let me return the favor,” the married woman whispered into Momo’s ear, as if speaking those words in a low voice would hide the fact that she was cheating on her wife. “You’re already so wet, and just from eating me.” Jihyo took the opportunity to slide the hand that had been on her back down to Momo’s crotch, where her fingers felt the wetness of her center. The plumber found Jihyo’s lips and moaned right into her mouth as she felt her soaked folds. 

“I have a better idea.” Momo’s trembling voice did nothing to hide that she was resisting the urge to let herself go and accept Jihyo’s offer, but at least right now she needed more than just her fingers. She needed a different, more special touch, something gentler.

Gently, Momo pulled away from Jihyo, kneeling in front of her. The mattress sank under her weight as if it knew she didn’t belong there, as if it wasn’t used to supporting her weight. But it could also just be that Momo was putting all her weight on a single point. In any case, ignoring her struggles, Momo took Jihyo by the thighs and pulled her, sliding her so she was lying more flat but with her head still resting on the pillows. Immediately, her fingers wrapped around the married woman’s delicate ankle and lifted it to spread her legs and expose her center.

Jihyo let the other woman do whatever she wanted with her; she had long since surrendered to her in this lustful and illicit adventure. She didn’t protest when Momo dragged her or when she lifted her leg; she just looked at her with that special gleam in her deep brown eyes, one that had recently awakened. Momo had already proven she knew what she was doing when she went down there to devour her with eagerness and skill, so why not continue to trust her abilities?

With her eyes half-closed, Momo admired the chaos that was Jihyo’s crotch, glistening with a mixture of her own wetness and Momo’s saliva. Carefully, the plumber slid a foot over Jihyo’s outstretched leg and straddled her thigh, still keeping her ankle raised. Now it was Momo’s wetness that clung to Jihyo’s skin. Her center seemed to burn against the married woman’s thigh; her firm muscles offered a resistance that Momo appreciated. Finally, some friction where she needed it most.

Meeting Jihyo’s eyes, Momo slid up her thigh, leaving a trail of wetness, until there was no more leg to rub against. Then their centers met, and Momo felt Jihyo’s delicate lips against her own.

There was hunger in Jihyo’s gaze, a hunger that overwhelmed Momo but at the same time drove her forward. Jihyo’s deep brown eyes looked deep into Momo’s, connecting on a level beyond mere gazes. She didn’t blink, but she did narrow her eyes when Momo began to move, rubbing her center against Jihyo’s. They continued to stare intently at each other even when they had to open their mouths to moan. Nothing could break their eye contact.

Their centers rubbed together in a wet kiss, charged with lust and hunger. Momo’s hips moved rhythmically while Jihyo lifted her own to increase the friction. Their moans blended into one, like a symphony musicalising their illicit encounter, interrupted only occasionally by small gasps from the effort of burning their centers together.

Eating Jihyo’s cunt had been a wonderful thing, but it had deprived Momo of seeing her reactions; now that she was naked on top of her, that had changed completely. Now Momo didn’t miss a single detail of the reactions she was causing in the married woman. Every tremor of her lips, the blush on her cheeks, the intensity of her gaze locked on hers. Everything was captured by the plumber’s eager eyes, which suddenly weren’t satisfied with just looking into Jihyo’s eyes, she also wanted to devour her with her gaze, and one could say she was already doing just that.

The plumber had a feast before her eyes, and that only made her even hungrier. Jihyo’s body trembled at the movements of her hips, causing her breasts and abdomen to quiver to the rhythm set by Momo with each rotation of her core. It was clear that the woman exercised a lot, but her body still had that softness just in the right spots. 

Jihyo reached out to grab the hand Momo still had free, the one not holding her ankle, to give her more stability and a point of anchor so she could move her hips more frantically. Their fingers intertwined as Momo picked up the pace and Jihyo used her other hand to play with her breasts, putting on a show that made Momo’s heart skip a few beats. How was it possible that this married woman looked so spectacular and immaculate in a situation like this? If it weren’t for the fact that she was already married and cheating on her wife with Momo, she would have thought she’d found the perfect woman.

Jihyo’s hand looked small as it intertwined with Momo’s. The plumber gripped it tightly, making her biceps stand out even more and showcasing the toned muscles of her arms in all their glory. As her calloused hand clung fervently to the married woman’s, her abdomen contracted and stretched with each new rotation of her hips. The mere sight of Momo’s toned abs contorting made Jihyo bite her lower lip.

The support provided by Jihyo allowed Momo to apply a little more force, pressing herself a little closer against her while Jihyo herself pushed her hips upward in search of Momo. The pressure continued to build in their cores, as did the wetness and heat, causing their lips to slide more easily together in that obscene kiss they were sharing. Soon the heat and pressure became too intense to contain. Their cores throbbed with fervor, making their swollen lips burn with the fire of lust. A fire that was consuming them both.

With spectacular synchrony, they both let themselves go at the same time, plunging into the river of lust and letting themselves be swept away by the current of pleasure. As if they were one, the orgasm hit them at the same time, causing their bodies to tremble and their moans to lose any composure that might have remained in them. But despite the waves of pleasure coursing through their bodies, neither stopped pressing against the other, thrusting their hips to soothe the heat of their throbbing centers. 

When it became undeniable that they were being dragged into the void of the climax, their gazes met again and remained locked as pleasure took over their bodies without restraint. One’s gaze fixed on the other’s, looking directly into her being, scrutinizing the deepest recesses of her soul. All while wave after wave of pleasure washed over them completely.

Momo released Jihyo’s leg and let herself fall gently onto her, with half her body on top of the married woman’s, though their legs were still intertwined. Her breathing was ragged, not just from the effort of grinding against the other woman, but also from the adrenaline and the excitement of the orgasm. The plumber watched as Jihyo’s chest rose and fell as she tried to fill her lungs with air, and without a second thought, she reached out to capture one of her breasts with her mouth, giving small sucks and nibbles that made Jihyo moan softly.

The married woman interlaced her fingers with Momo’s hair, and after letting her lick a few times, gently pulled her away from her breast. The plumber didn’t have time to protest because Jihyo pulled her in for a passionate kiss. This time it was she who invaded Momo’s mouth with her tongue to explore its depths and make their tongues battle once more. Suddenly, it no longer mattered that they were trying to catch their breath; all that was on their minds was the need to never part from each other’s lips.

Jihyo let go of Momo’s hair, and Momo took the opportunity to straddle the woman’s abdomen, staining it with her fluids. Jihyo didn’t care; she no longer cared if the plumber’s scent lingered on her body, all the better if it did. All she did was run her hands over Momo’s toned back, tracing the defined muscles with her fingers, feeling them tense and flex under her touch. Always moving downward along a path that inevitably led her to grab, with open, greedy hands, a handful of Momo’s ass.

The plumber moaned into the housewife’s mouth, feeling her core grow wet again despite still recovering from her recent orgasm. Her breasts rubbed against the other’s as they moved to adjust their lips to the kiss they were sharing. Only a few moments had passed, and they were already trying to devour each other again.

Then Momo felt trapped in the claws of a predator. She had entered the room willingly to consummate the illicit act to which she had been invited, and it never crossed her mind that she was walking straight into the lair of a beast. She had already seen in the kitchen just how insatiable Jihyo was, the sheer magnitude of the hunger she felt. Even though Momo was the one who had steered the action in a certain way, it had all happened on Jihyo’s turf. Maybe Momo wasn’t the predator she’d thought at first; maybe this married woman hadn’t fallen from the sky as a reward for her, but was instead using her to sate a hunger her wife was no longer able to satisfy. That was most likely the case, and honestly, Momo couldn’t care less. All of that was worth it for the pleasure that was setting her body ablaze. At the end the vampire was just a poor bat blinded by the incandesce of Jihyo's lust.

Momo was in Jihyo's claws and that was how being gently Jihyo moved Momo’s body, and Momo let her do whatever she wanted without protesting; it was already too late to start complaining. Soon the plumber found herself lying on her back with her head resting on the pillows and her thighs spread apart. Jihyo was beside her, but their bodies weren’t at the same level. She had broken the kiss to position herself slightly higher than Momo, and instead of her lips, she offered one of her breasts, which Momo accepted willingly.

Now the tables had completely turned from how things had been in the kitchen. Even though Momo had one of Jihyo’s breasts in her mouth, it was Jihyo who was now in control of the situation. It was her hand that wandered down Momo’s thigh, caressing her skin, sending shivers wherever it went despite the heat radiating from her fingers. That hand felt like a silent promise yet to come; both knew what the final destination was, but neither said a word. Momo simply lay there, sucking on the breast that had been placed in her mouth, while Jihyo traced patterns on the inner side of her thigh.

It was all part of the game, of how Jihyo had let herself fall into the plumber’s arms and was now taking control. Her hand moved slowly but surely toward Momo’s center, feeling the heat radiating from the anticipation of not knowing when the inevitable was finally going to happen. Then Jihyo’s fingers finally reached the woman’s wet folds, sending a small shiver through her body as she closed her eyes to withdraw from this world and surrender herself completely to Jihyo’s hands.

For some reason, Momo thought the woman would be rougher with her, that now that she was completely in control and Momo had surrendered so passively to her caresses, she would show her no mercy. But quite the opposite; her touch was gentle, gentle yet determined. Jihyo didn’t hesitate for a moment as her fingers caressed Momo’s folds, soaking up in her love juices and spreading them across her center. Doing whatever she wanted with the plumber’s vulva. 

When it all began, Momo had pounced on the woman like an animal in heat, but now she lay like a kitten in Jihyo’s arms. Her moans were muffled by the breast in her mouth, and her folds were being explored by an expert hand. Her hips moved almost of their own accord, and Jihyo immediately withdrew her hand, making it absolutely clear who was in control, who was setting the pace here. Momo had no choice but to focus on sucking while the hand resumed its mischief on her throbbing center.

Jihyo’s new target was Momo’s swollen lips. She caressed them, drawing out more muffled moans. She traced them with her fingertips and rubbed them, playing with them as she felt her owner melt in her hands. Then she found her clitoris and attacked it too, rolling it gently between her fingers, taking care not to overwhelm Momo with the caresses she was bestowing upon her.

Even though the plumber was soaking wet, Jihyo brought her fingers to her mouth, more to taste Momo’s nectar than to add saliva. She was sure that the Momo’s own wetness would be enough for what she had in mind, so she focused on savoring her nectar and swallowing it all, hungrily cleaning up every last trace of her essence, using her tongue to trace between her fingers and leave nothing behind.

One of Jihyo’s hands caressed Momo’s hair, occasionally brushing across her forehead, while the other, without any shame, returned to rubbing her cunt. This time, just two fingers slid between her folds, drawing circles and applying pressure, masturbating Momo in a delicious way. With expert, precise movements, as if she knew her lover’s anatomy perfectly, she stimulated her until her fingers were once again soaked in her nectar, drenched in her essence. Then, without warning, and while her other hand gently caressed the woman’s forehead, Jihyo pressed those same two fingers into the opening of her center and invaded Momo’s pussy.

The inside of the plumber’s pussy felt velvety, with a warmth that welcomed Jihyo’s intruding fingers, making them feel right at home. Momo clung tighter to the nipple in her mouth because it was the only thing left for her to do. Just as Jihyo had spread her legs in the kitchen so Momo could eat her out, now Momo had to play her part and spread her legs so the married woman could try to even the score of orgasms.

“Try,” as if Momo weren’t already melting from the heat spreading from her core and coursing through her entire body. Jihyo’s fingers spread apart inside her and probed her depths, caressing her walls. Filling her up and then closing in, so her pussy would never get used to the stimulation it was receiving. By the time Jihyo started literally fucking Momo’s cunt with her hand, Momo had already become a whimpering mess. Nothing remained of the resolve and determination she’d shown in the kitchen; now she simply lay in a married couple’s bed, a marriage she wasn’t a part of, while Jihyo cheated on her wife with her. “While she’s using me to be unfaithful,” Momo told herself, but what does it matter if being used feels this good? Maybe Momo wouldn’t mind if Jihyo used her a few more times if she took care of her this well again.

The plumber’s moans were muffled by Jihyo’s breast, but her body was making another sound; or rather, both of them were. The fingers felt so good inside her, giving her so much pleasure, that her center was completely soaked and now squelched with every thrust of Jihyo’s fingers. The woman was truly doing whatever she wanted with her. Giving her relentless pleasure while caressing her forehead with her other hand to calm her down. A duality of sensations that was driving Momo absolutely insane.

As Jihyo spread her fingers while continuing her relentless assault on Momo’s pussy, the pleasure Momo was receiving reached a new peak. Then she had the brilliant idea of using her thumb to caress Momo's clit while her fingers continued going back and forth. With this last action the inevitable didn’t take long to happen, and when Momo could no longer process the sensations invading her body, she exploded. She literally exploded, shooting a stream of fluids from her cunt as her body trembled. 

Jihyo held her in place but didn’t stop giving her pleasure. In a way that was now somewhat torturous, she continued fucking Momo, causing her fluids to splash everywhere. She didn’t care that her forearm or the sheets were getting even more stained, that they were becoming more deeply imbued with the plumber’s essence. Faced with that, Momo was unable to keep clinging to the breast she had in her mouth, and now, free of all restraint, her moans echoed unabashedly as she melted in pleasure. Something totally unimaginable when Momo walked through the door of the house to simply repair the sink.

When Jihyo’s fingers slipped out of Momo’s center with a squelching sound, a final shudder ran through her. A moan, almost a cry of protest for the emptiness, escaped her lips. Her body had endured so much in such a short time that she simply collapsed. As Jihyo continued stroking her forehead and whispering something she couldn’t quite make out, Momo fell asleep.

The next time Momo opened her eyes, it took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened. She almost felt bad for falling asleep like that after staining Jihyo’s bed, but no one could blame her for that after the way Jihyo had made her feel. When she finally came to her full senses, she realized she was still in bed, in the exact same spot where she’d fallen asleep, but Jihyo had slipped a towel under her so her body wouldn’t be in contact with the stained sheets while she slept.

Jihyo was there too, right in front of her. Lying on her side, looking at Momo, with her hair pulled back in a bun and a cigarette between her fingers. The smoke hid her features for a second as it escaped her nose, but then it drifted gently toward the window, which was now open. Momo snatched the cigarette from between her fingers and took a drag before handing it back to her. Instead of taking it, Jihyo leaned in to kiss Momo but stopped when her lips were almost pressed against the other woman’s; then they passed the smoke from one mouth to the other as if Jihyo were sucking Momo’s soul out. Maybe that’s what it really was.

“How long did I sleep?” Momo asked, stretching.

“A little over half an hour.” Jihyo handed the cigarette to Momo, and this time she smoked it properly. “You were sleeping so deeply that you didn’t even wake up when I put the towel on you.”

“Thanks for that. It’s been so long since I came like that.” Momo let the words slip out, a little embarrassed for the way she exploded and drenched Jihyo and her bed. Her cheeks turned red but she ignored it and instead rolled over to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling.

“Hey.” Jihyo took her hand. “It’s the least I can do for you.” Momo’s heart skipped a beat when their fingers intertwined and Jihyo lay down beside her, leaving the cigarette forgotten in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Maybe we should do this more often.”

“Just hope the neighbors don’t see us. I wouldn’t know how to explain to them that I go out with a toolbox only to turn around and knock on the door.” Momo wrinkled her nose in an amused gesture.

“We’ll figure something out if that happens.” Jihyo rested her head on Momo’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Next time I can be a pizza delivery girl, or, or…” Momo wasn’t able to finish that sentence because Jihyo kissed her gently on the lips.

“Looks like you really enjoyed it.” 

“It was a good experience.” Momo let out a sigh before continuing. “I never thought playing like that would be so much fun.”

“We should thank Nayeon for the suggestion.” Momo shuddered slightly when Jihyo said the name of their relationship counselor, but other than that, she didn’t react. “We’re going to get through this,” Jihyo said after a moment of silence. “Therapy is going well. We have a new house in a new neighborhood, and we have each other.”

The truth was, the house wasn’t new at all. It was old and in need of many repairs, just like their marriage. But the foundation was solid, and they both had the will to set aside their differences and work together to fix it; again just like their marriage. As Jihyo said, therapy was improving things between them, and this little role-playing game had helped them forget the constant fights and the cutting remarks they’d gotten used to hurling at each other during the worst part of their relationship. Now, just like the house, their marriage was blossoming again.

“We should take a bath.” Jihyo stood up, pulling Momo with her. “We need it.”

“We should also go out for lunch somewhere nice.” They hugged each other at the foot of their bed. “Maybe you could wear that dress again…”

“Forget it.” Jihyo planted little kisses on her wife’s lips. “It’s too low-cut; I feel like my boobs are going to pop out at any moment.”

Momo laughed at the image that had formed in her mind, but instead of saying something obscene that would surely have earned her a scolding from Jihyo, she simply grabbed her by the butt and lifted her off the floor. Her wife caught on and helped by taking a little hop, ending up wrapping her legs around her wife’s waist and clinging to her neck with her arms.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in Jihyo’s ears long after the final encore lights had dimmed. Los Angeles had been electric tonight—fifty thousand ONCEs screaming their names, waving lightsticks in perfect waves of pastel pink and white. The “This Is For” World Tour stop at SoFi Stadium had been one for the history books, another sold-out night in a run that was already shattering records for K-pop girl groups in North America.

Backstage, the usual post-concert chaos reigned. Staff hurried with equipment cases, stylists touched up makeup for final photos, and the members laughed and hugged, adrenaline still pumping. Jihyo, ever the leader, made her rounds—complimenting Nayeon on her ad-libbed high note during “I Can’t Stop Me,” teasing Chaeyoung about the confetti still stuck in her hair, and checking that Mina had iced her ankle properly after all those sharp choreo turns. Her voice was hoarse from singing and hyping the crowd, her shoulders burned from the weight of the harness during the aerial sections, and her legs felt like jelly after hours in heels.

By the time she slipped into a black SUV with tinted windows, Jihyo was running on fumes. She’d changed into a simple oversized hoodie, leggings, and a baseball cap pulled low—her standard “don’t recognize me” disguise for rare moments of freedom in a foreign city. The members were heading back to the hotel for rest and recovery before tomorrow’s flight, but Jihyo had asked for a few extra hours. Management wasn’t thrilled, but after ten years of this life, they knew when their leader needed space.

She met Hye-jin at a quiet Korean café in Koreatown, a late-night spot that stayed open for homesick expats and idols passing through. Hye-jin was an old friend from trainee days who’d moved to the States years ago for university and now worked in entertainment law. They hugged tightly at a corner table, the scent of doenjang jjigae and fresh kimchi wrapping around them like comfort.c923c7

“Unnie, you were incredible tonight,” Hye-jin said, eyes sparkling as she poured Jihyo a glass of barley tea. “I was in the pit—lost my voice screaming for ‘Feel Special.’ The way you hit that belt in the bridge… still gives me chills.”

Jihyo smiled warmly, the kind of genuine, dimpled smile that made fans melt. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms overhead with a groan. “Thank you, Hye-jin-ah. It felt good out there. The energy was insane. LA always shows up so hard.” Her voice was a little raspy, that signature powerful tone softened by exhaustion. She took a sip of tea, letting the warmth soothe her throat. “But god… these tours are no joke anymore. Back-to-back shows, time zones, the pressure to make every night perfect. My back is killing me. Shoulders too. I feel like an old lady at 29.”

Hye-jin chuckled, stirring her own drink. She was the type of friend who always had that mischievous glint—sharp-witted, loyal, and a little bolder than Jihyo remembered from their JYP days. “You? Old? Please. You’re out there doing full choreography while carrying the vocal load for nine. The girls rely on you so much. But yeah… I can see it in your posture right now. You’re all knotted up.”

Jihyo nodded, rolling her neck slowly. The café was dimly lit, soft K-indie playing in the background, giving them privacy. “A good massage would fix me right up. Something deep tissue, you know? I’ve been craving that release. The hotel spas are always booked or too public. I just want to melt for an hour without worrying about someone snapping a photo.”

Hye-jin’s lips curved into a smirk. She leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Funny you say that. I know exactly the place. A friend recommended it—super discreet, Korean-owned, caters to high-profile clients who need real relief. Not your basic hotel rubdown. They specialize in full-body work, pressure points, the kind that gets everything flowing again.” She winked. “Trust me, you’ll walk out feeling like a new woman. No schedules, no cameras, just you and skilled hands working out every tight spot.”

Jihyo laughed softly, the sound tired but grateful. “You’re a lifesaver. I’ve been so stressed—mentally too. Leading the group, the solo stuff from Zone still on my mind, keeping morale high on the road… Sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and let someone else take control for a bit.” She sighed, her thoughts drifting to the weight she carried: the trainee years of scolding and doubt, the endless practice, the pride in TWICE’s success, and the quiet loneliness that came with fame.

They chatted more naturally—catching up on Hye-jin’s life in LA, Jihyo sharing funny tour anecdotes like Sana’s endless heart throws to fans or the time Jeongyeon pranked the dressing room. The conversation flowed easily, laced with nostalgia and laughter. Jihyo felt herself relaxing just from the familiar Korean banter, the way Hye-jin teased her about still being the “mom” of the group even across the Pacific.

As they finished their food, Hye-jin pulled out her phone and texted Jihyo an address. “Here. It’s not far from here, about 20 minutes by car. Tell them I sent you—ask for the ‘premium relaxation package.’ They’ll know. Go now while you have the window. You deserve it, unnie.”

Jihyo hugged her friend goodbye, feeling a surge of affection. “Thank you, really. I’ll text you after. Love you.”

The Uber ride through the glittering LA night was quiet. Jihyo stared out the window at passing palm trees and neon signs, her body humming with residual concert energy mixed with deep fatigue. She replayed the show in her head: the powerful opening with “THIS IS FOR,” the emotional swell during ballads, the way the crowd sang back every word. Pride swelled in her chest, but so did the ache in her muscles. A proper massage sounded heavenly—strong hands kneading her calves, her lower back, maybe even her thighs after all that dancing. She imagined the oil, the warmth, the slow release of tension. Her mind wandered innocently at first, then with a faint, guilty flutter of curiosity. What would it feel like to fully surrender?

The driver dropped her off on a quiet side street in a nondescript commercial area. The address led her down a short block, away from the main road. Jihyo adjusted her cap, pulling her hoodie closer. The night air was cool against her flushed skin. She checked the map on her phone again—yes, this was it.

She finally stood in front of the building.

It was a single-story structure tucked between a closed laundromat and a storage facility, unassuming from the outside with a plain beige facade and frosted windows that revealed nothing. A small, elegant sign above the door read “Lotus Serenity Spa” in both English and Korean, with soft ambient lighting glowing faintly from within. No flashy advertisements, no menu posted outside—just a discreet wooden door with a small bell and a security camera. It looked professional enough, yet something about the seclusion and the late hours made her pause. She stared it up and down, taking in the details: the carefully manicured small plants by the entrance, the faint scent of incense or essential oils drifting out when a breeze stirred, the heavy curtains visible through the glass. Her heart beat a little faster—not from fear, exactly, but from that edge of the unknown. Hye-jin had said it was special. Different.

Jihyo took a slow breath, her tired body craving relief, her mind buzzing with the remnants of stage adrenaline and the quiet thrill of doing something just for herself.

Jihyo pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside Lotus Serenity Spa. The air was thick with the warm scent of sandalwood and lavender, a subtle haze of essential oils hanging in the low lighting. Soft instrumental music played from hidden speakers—slow, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

An American woman sat behind a sleek reception desk, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun. She looked up with professional poise, her eyes widening slightly in recognition. “Ms. Jihyo?” she asked, a questioning tone in her voice.

“Yes,” Jihyo replied in English, offering a small polite smile.

“Ms. Hye-jin booked an appointment for you. Please come this way.” The receptionist stood and gestured down a narrow, dimly lit hallway lined with frosted glass doors. Despite the receptionist’s somewhat accented English, Jihyo understood enough and followed quietly.

They stopped at the last door on the right. The receptionist opened it and motioned for Jihyo to enter. “Enjoy, Ms. Jihyo,” she said with a knowing little smile before gently closing the door behind her, leaving Jihyo alone in the VIP room.

The space had an unusual vibe—relaxing yet undeniably intimate. Warm amber lighting cast soft shadows across dark wood paneling and deep burgundy accents. A large, padded massage table dominated the center, draped in crisp white sheets with a circular face cradle at one end. Thick towels were folded neatly nearby. The walls held shelves of oils and lotions, and a faint mirror on one side reflected the low glow of candles. The air felt heavier here, warmer, with a subtle sensual undertone that made Jihyo’s skin tingle. It was more private than any hotel spa she’d visited.

She walked slowly around the room, trailing her fingers along the edge of the massage table, feeling the smooth vinyl and imagining the relief her aching muscles would soon get. Her shoulders were still tight from the harness, her legs heavy from hours of sharp choreography.

The door opened quietly behind her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click. He had a strong, manly physique—thick arms that strained slightly against his black short-sleeved uniform shirt, a well-groomed mustache and attractive beard framing a chiseled, handsome “Chad” face with confident dark eyes. His presence filled the room.

“Hi, Ms. Jihyo. How are you doing?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth with a slight American accent.

Jihyo turned, offering a slight bow out of habit. “I’m doing great… a little tired,” she replied in her relatively awkward but decent English.

“You’re in the perfect place to relieve all that stress and exhaustion,” the masseuse answered, his tone warm and reassuring. He gave her a professional once-over, noting her posture. “We’ll take good care of you tonight.”

He walked over to a small side table and picked up a small, folded white towel—short and standard for coverage in full-body sessions. He handed it to her with a calm, steady gaze.

“To get the best results from the premium relaxation package, it’s best to work directly on the skin. Please get comfortable and remove your clothes. You can use this towel to cover yourself. Lie face down on the table when you’re ready, and I’ll step out for a moment to give you privacy. Take your time.”

He offered a small, polite nod and turned toward the door, waiting for her confirmation before stepping out.

Jihyo stood alone in the warmly lit VIP room, the soft instrumental music weaving through the air like a gentle caress. Her body still hummed from the concert—muscles tight, skin flushed. She was 29 now, a woman who had grown into her fame with curves that fans obsessed over in candid photos and stage outfits. Her breasts were especially prominent: heavy, massive cups that sat full and rounded but with that natural, slight sag from years of intense performances, gravity, and the realities of an adult woman's body. Online fan discussions and leaked concert photos often highlighted how they strained against her bras and tops, soft yet weighty, with a realistic bounce and subtle droop that made them look all the more sensual and human.

She took a deep breath, heart fluttering with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The masseuse's instructions echoed in her mind. Best results from working directly on the skin. She peeled off her oversized hoodie first, revealing a simple sports bra that barely contained her heavy tits. Next came the leggings, sliding down her thick, toned thighs—strong from years of choreography but soft in the right places, her ass full and plush. She stood there in just her underwear, the cool air kissing her skin.

Jihyo paused, glancing at the towel. Her hands moved almost instinctively to her breasts, cupping their heavy weight. She squeezed gently, feeling their fullness and the slight natural sag, thumbs brushing over her nipples through the fabric. They were sensitive tonight, already perking up from the adrenaline and the intimate atmosphere. Should I keep the bra and panties on? she wondered, a flush creeping up her neck. It would be safer, more modest. But the ache in her back, shoulders, and legs screamed for full relief. Hye-jin's words rang in her ears: skilled hands working out every tight spot. She wanted to melt completely—no barriers.

"Fuck it," she whispered to herself in Korean, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Just go all out and relax to the fullest."

She reached back, unclasping her bra. Her massive tits spilled free, heavy and swaying with the motion, the slight sag making them hang beautifully as they settled against her chest. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them down, stepping out to leave herself fully naked. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, a soft mound above smooth lips. Grabbing the small white towel, she climbed onto the massage table, lying face down. She adjusted the towel to drape modestly over her round, plump ass, the fabric just barely covering the lower curve while leaving her back, shoulders, and legs exposed. Her heavy breasts pressed softly against the padded table beneath her, squishing outward. She nestled her face into the cradle, exhaling deeply. The position felt vulnerable... and thrilling.

The door clicked open a minute later. The tall, broad-shouldered masseuse returned, his presence commanding yet professional. He didn't comment on her state, simply nodding with quiet approval as he saw her ready. "Good. We'll begin."

He prepared his equipment with calm efficiency—warming a bottle of scented oil between his large hands, arranging extra towels, and dimming the lights just a fraction more. The rich aroma of lavender and sandalwood intensified. Then he approached the table.

He started by pouring a generous stream of warm oil directly onto her upper back. The liquid felt like liquid silk, sliding down her spine in slow rivulets. His strong hands followed immediately, spreading it with firm, masterful strokes. He was exceptionally skilled—thumbs digging into the knots along her spine with perfect pressure, palms gliding in long, sweeping motions from her lower back all the way up to her shoulders. The oil made everything slick and heated, his fingers working deep into the muscle tissue, releasing tension she didn't even know she carried from the harness and endless dancing.

Jihyo let out a soft, involuntary moan as he kneaded her shoulders. The touch was therapeutic yet undeniably sensual—the way his large hands enveloped her, thumbs circling and pressing into tight spots while his fingers brushed the sides of her ribcage, grazing the outer swell of her heavy breasts where they spilled against the table. Heat bloomed under her skin, a delicious mix of deep relaxation and building warmth that pooled lower in her belly. Her massive tits felt heavier, more sensitive as they were compressed, nipples hardening against the sheet.

He moved lower, pouring more oil along her spine and working her lower back with powerful, rhythmic kneads—almost like he was molding her body. His hands ventured to her hips, strong fingers digging into the glutes just beneath the edge of the towel, lifting and separating the plush flesh in ways that made the towel shift teasingly. Her thick thighs received the same treatment: long, gliding strokes from knee to upper thigh, the oil making her skin glisten as his palms pressed firmly, thumbs tracing inner lines that came dangerously close to her core without touching. Every motion was professional precision laced with erotic undertone—the steady pressure, the heat of his body near hers, the occasional low murmur of "Breathe and let go" in his deep voice.

Jihyo's breathing grew heavier, her body melting into the table while a different kind of heat built. She felt relaxed to her bones... and undeniably hot, her pussy tingling with subtle arousal as his hands continued their magic, teasing the boundaries of pure therapy.

The masseuse continued his masterful work on Jihyo’s lower back, his large, oil-slicked hands gliding with expert pressure. Without warning, he boldly hooked his fingers under the small white towel covering her plump ass and set it aside completely, letting it drop to the floor. Her round, full cheeks were now fully exposed—soft yet toned from years of intense dance practice, with that natural jiggle and fullness that fans admired in stage outfits.

Jihyo’s eyes widened in surprise, her body tensing for a split second. “Wait—” she started, but the words dissolved into a low groan as his strong hands immediately cupped and kneaded her ass cheeks with perfect, deep pressure. His thumbs dug into the muscle, spreading her plush flesh apart and then pressing it back together in slow, rhythmic circles. The oil made everything slippery and hot, sending waves of relief mixed with electric pleasure through her core. It felt heavenly—better than any professional massage she’d ever had. The tension from hours of choreography melted under his skilled palms.

Soft, involuntary moans escaped her lips despite her efforts to contain them. “Mmm… ahh…” She bit her lower lip, trying to stay quiet, but another deep knead made her groan louder, her voice raspy and breathy from the concert. The masseuse smirked confidently, clearly enjoying her reactions as he worked her ass with firm, possessive strokes—lifting, squeezing, and rolling the heavy flesh in ways that made her hips subtly push back against his hands.

Then, without pausing, one of his hands slid boldly between her thighs. His slick fingers found her pussy, cupping the soft, warm mound before beginning to massage it with the same professional prowess—slow, circular rubs that pressed against her outer lips, then gently parted them to stroke the sensitive inner folds. The warm oil mixed with her growing wetness made the glide smooth and intoxicating.

Jihyo’s body reacted instantly and intensely. Her pussy compressed and tightened around the intrusion of his fingers, clenching rhythmically as heat flooded through her core. A fresh rush of slick arousal coated his hand as her body betrayed her surprise. “W-wait… that’s too much…” she protested softly in her awkward but decent English, her voice laced with moans. “Ahh… you… you shouldn’t…” But the words came out weak and trembling, more like encouragement than refusal as another wave of pleasure hit her.

Her hands clenched into fists on the sides of the table, knuckles turning white. Her toes curled tightly, feet flexing as the sensations shot up her legs. Her breathing grew ragged and heavier—short gasps mixed with longer, shuddering exhales that fogged the face cradle. Her heavy, massive tits (DD-cups with that natural slight sag) pressed harder against the table as her back arched slightly, nipples stiff and aching from the friction. Her thick thighs trembled, instinctively parting a little wider despite her soft protests, allowing his skilled fingers better access. The combination of deep therapeutic pressure and direct stimulation on her clit and folds left her mind hazy, torn between the professional relaxation she came for and the building erotic heat that made her pussy throb and leak.

The masseuse leaned in closer, his deep voice calm and reassuring while his fingers never stopped their expert massage—stroking, circling, and pressing her swollen clit with masterful rhythm. “Just relax and go with the flow, Ms. Jihyo. This is part of the premium package. Let my hands take care of everything… you’re so tight here. Breathe and enjoy it.”

Jihyo moaned again, louder this time, her body surrendering even as her mind spun.

The masseuse slowly withdrew his hand from between her thighs, leaving her pussy throbbing and slick with a mix of warm oil and her own arousal. Jihyo let out a shaky, disappointed whimper at the sudden absence, her hips twitching once before settling. He remained composed, his strong hands returning to her plump, oil-glistened ass cheeks. He kneaded them deeply once more—firm, professional strokes that still sent sparks of pleasure radiating through her core—before gliding upward along her spine in long, sweeping motions. His palms pressed firmly into her lower back, then mid-back, working out the lingering knots from the concert harness with expert precision. Each pass of his large, heated hands made her melt deeper into the table, her heavy breasts squishing sensually beneath her.

“Time to flip over, Ms. Jihyo,” he said in that deep, smooth American accent, his voice calm and professional. “Let’s take care of the front.”

Jihyo’s mind was already hazy, her body buzzing with unfulfilled heat. She nodded weakly and turned over onto her back, her movements slow and languid. As she settled, her tits—full, heavy, and naturally a bit saggy from their generous weight—settled heavily against her chest, spreading slightly outward with that soft, realistic bounce. Her nipples were stiff peaks, dark and sensitive, begging for attention. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. That tall, broad-shouldered Western “Chad” look—chiseled jaw, well-groomed beard and mustache, confident dark eyes—made her pussy clench visibly. A fresh rush of wetness leaked from her as pure lust hit her harder. God, he’s so fucking hot… she thought, biting her lip.

The masseuse kept his expression professional, though his gaze did linger appreciatively for a brief moment on her magnificent, exposed body. He poured more warm oil onto his palms and started at her lower abdomen. His large hands spread the slick oil in slow, firm circles across her soft stomach, thumbs pressing gently along her sides, working the muscles there with perfect pressure. The heat from his touch radiated inward, making her belly flutter.

He gradually worked upward, his palms gliding just beneath the heavy undersides of her tits. He lifted and kneaded the soft, weighty flesh from below—cupping the natural sag and gently rolling it upward in slow, deliberate motions that made her breasts jiggle and sway erotically. The sides of her massive tits received the same treatment: his strong fingers stroking and pressing into the outer curves, thumbs tracing the sensitive line where breast met ribcage. Every touch sent jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Her pussy throbbed rhythmically, clenching around nothing as her arousal dripped slowly down onto the sheet.

Jihyo’s breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling as her heavy tits moved with each breath. Soft, breathy moans escaped her despite her efforts to stay quiet—“Mmm… ahh…”—each one raspier than the last. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to ease the aching emptiness between them, but it only heightened the sensitivity of her swollen clit. Her hands gripped the edges of the table, toes curling again as waves of heat washed over her. The contrast between his perfectly professional technique and the intimate, erotic way her body was responding left her dizzy with desire. Her nipples ached, painfully hard, and every time his fingers came close without quite touching them, she felt a fresh pulse of need deep in her dripping pussy.

He continued upward to her shoulders, his strong hands working the tension there while his forearms occasionally brushed against the outer swells of her breasts, sending sparks through her. The air felt thicker, hotter. Jihyo was lost in the sensation—relaxed yet burning, her body a live wire of anticipation.

The masseuse’s hands lingered on Jihyo’s shoulders for a few more moments, his strong thumbs working deep circles into the tense muscles while his forearms brushed teasingly against the heavy outer curves of her breasts. Jihyo’s breathing was already ragged, her massive tits rising and falling with each exhale, the soft natural sag making them spread invitingly across her chest. Her dark nipples stood painfully erect, aching for attention, flushed a deep pink from the building heat flooding her body.

He finally gave in to the inevitable. With a low, appreciative hum, the masseuse poured a fresh stream of warm oil directly over the tops of her heavy breasts. The slick liquid cascaded down their full, rounded slopes, tracing glistening paths over the soft, slightly drooping undersides before pooling in the valley between them. His large, powerful hands followed immediately, cupping her magnificent tits fully for the first time.

“Oh… fuck…” Jihyo gasped in a breathy mix of English and Korean, her back arching instinctively off the table as his palms enveloped her. His fingers sank deeply into the plush, heavy flesh—kneading, lifting, and squeezing with expert pressure that was somehow both therapeutic and devastatingly erotic. He lifted the weighty orbs, feeling their natural sag and fullness, then let them settle heavily back into his grasp, rolling them slowly in circles. The oil made every motion slippery and obscene, her tits jiggling and bouncing softly with each deliberate stroke.

His thumbs swept upward, teasing the sensitive undersides before circling her stiff nipples without quite touching them yet. Jihyo’s pussy clenched hard at the sensation, a fresh gush of wetness leaking from her swollen lips onto the sheet beneath her ass. Her toes curled tightly, fingers gripping the edges of the massage table as waves of pleasure radiated from her chest straight down to her dripping core.

The masseuse smirked faintly, his chiseled, bearded face hovering above her as he focused on her nipples. He caught each hard peak between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching lightly at first—gentle tugs that made her whimper—then rolling them slowly. He flicked the left nipple with a quick snap of his finger, then the right, alternating in rhythm while continuing to knead the heavy, oily flesh of her breasts. Each pinch and flick sent electric jolts through her body. Her massive tits quivered in his hands, the soft sag making them sway heavily as he manipulated them.

“Mmm-ahh! Yes… there…” Jihyo moaned louder, no longer trying to hold back. Her voice was hoarse and raspy from the concert, but the sounds coming out of her now were pure lust. Her heavy breasts felt hypersensitive, every squeeze making her pussy throb in time. She could feel how wet she was—her inner thighs slick, her clit swollen and pulsing with need.

After several long, indulgent minutes of worshipping her tits, the masseuse’s hands began to glide downward. He poured more oil over her lower belly and thick, toned thighs. His palms smoothed down her sides, then onto her powerful legs, kneading the muscles with the same masterful pressure. Jihyo’s thighs parted almost instinctively as he worked, but he helped them along—his strong hands gripping her inner thighs and slowly spreading her legs wider, exposing her glistening, needy pussy completely.

The cool air of the room kissed her soaked folds as he opened her up. He massaged higher and higher up her inner thighs, his thumbs pressing firmly into the soft, sensitive flesh just inches from her dripping entrance. Every stroke brought his hands closer, brushing teasingly against her outer lips before pulling away again, building unbearable anticipation. Jihyo’s hips rolled upward subtly, chasing his touch, her heavy tits jiggling with the motion, nipples still glistening with oil and standing obscenely hard.

While his hands were busy between her spread thighs, Jihyo’s hazy mind and burning desire pushed her to act. Her right hand released the table edge and reached out blindly toward him. Her fingers found his waist, then slid lower, boldly cupping the massive, rock-hard bulge straining against his black uniform pants.

She gasped at the size of it—thick, throbbing, and impressively long even through the fabric. Her hand squeezed gently, stroking the outline with curious, needy fingers. “So… big…” she whispered in awkward, aroused English, her eyes half-lidded as she looked up at his handsome Western face. Feeling his hardness made her pussy clench visibly, a fresh trickle of arousal dripping down between her spread cheeks. Her hand continued exploring, tracing the length of his cock through his pants, feeling it twitch and throb under her touch.

The masseuse let out a low, deep groan, his professional facade cracking slightly as her hand worked him. But he didn’t stop the massage. Instead, he rewarded her boldness by finally sliding his right hand fully between her spread thighs. Two thick fingers glided along her slick pussy lips, parting them slowly while his thumb found her swollen clit and began rubbing firm, perfect circles.

Jihyo cried out, her back arching sharply. Her massive tits bounced heavily with the motion, nipples pointing toward the ceiling. “Ahhh! Yes… oh god…” Her hand tightened around his clothed cock, stroking faster as pleasure overwhelmed her. His fingers on her pussy were masterful—spreading her wetness everywhere, teasing her entrance without pushing inside yet, while his thumb kept perfect pressure on her clit. The dual sensation of her hand on his huge erection and his skilled fingers between her legs left her mind blank with lust.

He continued kneading her left breast with his free hand, pinching and flicking the nipple in time with the strokes on her clit. Her body was a live wire: heavy tits heaving, thick thighs trembling and spread wide, pussy dripping and clenching rhythmically around nothing, toes curled so tight they hurt. Sweat and oil mixed on her glowing skin. Every breath came out as a moan or whimper. The scent of lavender, sandalwood, and her own arousal filled the warm room.

The masseuse leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, “You’re so fucking wet, Ms. Jihyo… Your pussy is gripping at my fingers. These perfect heavy tits… so soft and full in my hands.” He emphasized his words by squeezing her right breast harder, rolling the nipple between his fingers until she moaned loudly. His other hand kept working her soaked cunt—sliding his fingers up and down her slit, occasionally pressing just the tip of one finger against her tight entrance before pulling back, teasing mercilessly.

Jihyo’s hand rubbed him more desperately through his pants, feeling the heat and thickness of his cock. She wanted it. Needed it. Her hips bucked against his hand, chasing more friction as her massive, oiled tits jiggled with every movement. The slight natural sag made them look even more erotic as they moved—full, womanly, bouncing heavily under his relentless kneading and pinching.

Time seemed to stretch. He kept the exquisite torture going: massaging her breasts, teasing her nipples with pinches, flicks, and rolls, while his other hand worked her spread thighs and dripping pussy with expert, erotic precision. Jihyo was lost in a haze of pleasure, moaning openly, her body trembling on the edge of release but not quite there yet. Her hand never left his throbbing bulge, stroking and squeezing as if promising what she wanted next.

The room was filled with the wet sounds of his oiled hands on her body, her breathy moans, and the occasional low growl from deep in his chest. Jihyo’s pussy was soaked, her clit throbbing under his thumb, her heavy tits aching deliciously from his constant attention. She was completely surrendered to the sensations, body glistening, legs spread wide, one hand shamelessly feeling his hard cock while he pushed her closer and closer to the brink.

The masseuse kept teasing her relentlessly—thick fingers gliding through her soaked folds, thumb circling her swollen clit with perfect pressure, while his other hand kneaded and pinched her heavy, oil-slicked tits. Jihyo was trembling on the edge, her massive cups heaving, pussy dripping, mind hazy with desperate need.

She couldn’t hold back anymore.

With a shaky, determined breath, Jihyo pushed herself up from the massage table. Her oiled, glistening body moved with surprising urgency. She swung her thick thighs over the side, heavy tits swaying and bouncing heavily with the motion, nipples stiff and aching. Her bare feet touched the warm floor as she slid off completely, leaving the table behind. The cool air kissed her soaked pussy and flushed skin as she turned to face him fully.

Without hesitation, Jihyo dropped to her knees right there in front of him. The movement was smooth yet eager—her plump ass settling back on her heels, thick thighs pressing together, massive breasts hanging forward with that natural, sensual sag as she looked up at him. Her face was now level with his newly freed cock, flushed and throbbing heavily just inches from her lips. The position made her feel exposed, submissive, and incredibly turned on—kneeling naked on the floor of the private spa room, oil and her own arousal still slick between her legs.

Jihyo stared at his thick, veined cock with hungry eyes. She reached out aggressively with both hands, wrapping her fingers tightly around the impressive girth. Her small hands barely closed around it. She gave it a firm, possessive squeeze, stroking slowly from base to swollen head as she leaned in.

“Fuck… so big…” she whispered hoarsely.

She pressed her nose against the warm, musky shaft and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she savored his raw masculine scent. The smell made her pussy clench hard, another trickle of wetness running down her inner thigh. She nuzzled her cheek and lips along the length, kissing the thick vein underneath, before finally opening her mouth.

Jihyo dragged her warm, wet tongue slowly up the underside from base to tip, then swirled it around the glistening head, tasting the salty precum. With a needy moan, she parted her full lips and took him into her mouth, sucking the first few thick inches with wet, eager sounds. Her heavy tits rested against his thighs as she bobbed her head, using both hands to stroke what she couldn’t swallow yet. Saliva quickly dripped down her chin and onto her swaying breasts as she worked him harder, hollowing her cheeks and moaning vibrantly around his cock.

The masseuse groaned deeply, one hand resting on the back of her head as she worshipped him on her knees

The masseuse kept his strong grip in her hair after pulling his cock from her messy mouth. Jihyo was still gasping, lips swollen and shiny with thick strands of saliva, when he suddenly tightened his fist—grabbing a thick handful of her hair close to the scalp with dominant authority.

“Up,” he commanded in his deep voice.

Jihyo let out a sharp, surprised moan as he pulled her firmly to her feet. She wasn’t used to this. Jihyo was TWICE’s leader—confident, in control, the one who directed everything and everyone. She had never been the type to submit so easily. But tonight, in this private room, something was different. The exhaustion from the concert, the oil on her skin, the overwhelming arousal, and his commanding presence had completely melted her resistance. A thrill she rarely allowed herself ran through her body as he took control.

He didn’t give her time to think. Still fisting her hair, he spun her around and pushed her forward toward the massage table. Jihyo’s heavy tits swayed pendulously as she stumbled the few steps. He bent her over the padded table with firm pressure, pressing her upper body down until her soft, massive cups squished hard against the sheet. Her cheek rested against the warm surface, ass pushed up and presented to him.

Jihyo’s breath hitched. Then, willingly—almost greedily—she spread her legs. She shifted her thick, toned thighs wider apart, planting her feet firmly on the floor and arching her back to offer her soaked pussy. The movement made her plump ass cheeks spread naturally, exposing her dripping wet folds completely. Her pussy glistened obscenely, clit swollen, inner thighs shiny with her arousal.

She twisted her head to the side, looking back at him over her shoulder. Her face was flushed, eyes hazy with lust, strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and tear-streaked cheeks. The strong, responsible leader was gone. In her place was a woman who desperately needed to be fucked.

“Please…” she whispered hoarsely in that raspy post-concert voice, pushing her ass back toward him. “I want it…”

The masseuse smirked, his chiseled bearded face dark with desire. He kept one hand fisted tightly in her hair, holding her head in place so she stayed looking back at him. With his free hand, he gripped his thick, spit-slicked cock and rubbed the fat head up and down her slippery pussy lips, teasing her entrance and coating himself in her wetness.

Then he pushed in.

Jihyo’s mouth fell open in a loud, broken moan as he stretched her open. Inch after thick inch sank into her tight, dripping cunt, filling her completely. Her walls clenched hard around his girth, fluttering and squeezing as he buried himself to the hilt. The sudden fullness made her toes curl and her thick thighs tremble.

“Fuck—! So deep…” she gasped, eyes rolling slightly.

He didn’t wait. Still gripping her hair possessively, he started fucking her with deep, powerful strokes—pulling back until just the head remained inside, then slamming forward again. The wet, rhythmic sound of his hips slapping against her plump ass filled the room. Her heavy tits squished and dragged against the table with every thrust, nipples scraping pleasurably against the sheet.

Jihyo moaned shamelessly, pushing back to meet his thrusts, her ass rippling with each impact. She kept her head twisted to look at him, eyes locked on his dominant gaze as he claimed her from behind.

The masseuse kept his fist tightly wrapped in Jihyo’s hair, yanking her head back slightly as he slammed into her from behind with long, powerful strokes. The wet slap-slap-slap of his hips against her plump ass echoed through the room, her thick cheeks rippling with every impact.

Jihyo moaned loudly, her usual confident persona shattered. She pushed her ass back harder to meet his thrusts, pussy clenching greedily around his thick cock. “Ahh—fuck… yes!”

He suddenly pulled her hair harder, using it like a rein to yank her upper body off the table. At the same time, he hooked one strong arm under her left thigh and lifted it high, spreading her wide while still buried deep inside her. Jihyo’s foot left the floor as he shifted them both into a standing doggy position — her bent forward over the table, one leg raised and held open, giving him an even deeper angle.

The new position made his cock hit spots that made her see stars. He immediately started pounding her mercilessly — harder, faster, more aggressive. His hips slapped loudly against her ass as he drove into her dripping cunt with brutal force.

SMACK!

His free hand came down hard on her plump right ass cheek, leaving a red handprint. Jihyo cried out in pleasure, her walls fluttering wildly around him.

SMACK! SMACK!

Two more firm spanks landed as he railed her, his grip on her hair keeping her head pulled back so she stayed arched for him.

“Fuck—! Too deep… I’m—ahhh!” Jihyo’s voice cracked, raspy and broken. Her massive tits swung heavily beneath her with every violent thrust, the natural sag making them bounce and slap together obscenely.

He reached around with his free hand and grabbed one of her heavy swinging breasts roughly. His large palm squeezed the soft, oily flesh hard, fingers sinking deep into the weighty mound. He slapped the side of her tit, making it jiggle wildly, then pinched and tugged her stiff nipple while continuing to pound her soaked pussy.

“These fat fucking tits,” he groaned, slapping the other breast as well. “So heavy and soft… perfect for a good fucking.” He kneaded them aggressively, switching between rough groping, slapping, and pinching her sensitive nipples as he railed her standing up with one leg held high.

Jihyo was completely lost. Her thick thigh trembled in his grip, pussy gushing around his pistoning cock. She had zero control — just taking his dominant pounding, hair pulled tight, ass spanked red, massive tits being mauled and slapped while he stretched her deep. The contrast with her normal strong-leader self only turned her on more. Her moans grew louder and more desperate, eyes half-rolled back as she took everything he gave her.

The masseuse stood tall beside the table, his muscular body glistening with a light sheen of sweat and oil. He kicked off his shoes, then shoved his pants and underwear the rest of the way down his strong legs, stepping out of them completely. His massive cock stood proudly erect — thick, veined, and still slick from Jihyo’s saliva and her pussy juices. His heavy balls hung below, and his chiseled abs and broad chest were fully exposed now. He looked every bit the dominant, masculine figure as he climbed onto the large massage table, lying on his back in the center. The padded surface creaked under his weight.

Jihyo watched him with heavy-lidded, lust-drunk eyes. Her massive breasts rose and fell rapidly with her breathing, nipples still red and shiny from his sucking. She pushed herself up, swung her thick thighs over, and climbed onto the table after him. She straddled his waist eagerly, her plump ass hovering above his throbbing cock as she looked down at him.

She was completely in love with his massive cock.

Jihyo reached down with both hands, wrapping her fingers around the thick shaft and stroking it reverently. “So fucking big… so perfect,” she whispered hoarsely in that raspy, post-concert voice. She lifted herself higher on her knees, positioned the fat, swollen head right against her dripping entrance, and slowly sank down.

Her pussy lips stretched obscenely around his girth. The thick head pushed her soft, puffy folds apart, spreading her wide as she lowered herself inch by inch. Jihyo’s mouth fell open in a long, shuddering moan. “Ahhh… fuck… it’s splitting me open…” The sensation was intense — a delicious burning stretch as her tight walls yielded to his thickness. She felt every vein, every ridge dragging along her inner walls as she took him deeper. Her juices coated him generously, making the slide smoother but still incredibly tight.

The masseuse groaned deeply, feeling her scorching hot pussy envelop him. Her walls fluttered and clenched rhythmically around his cock, gripping him like a velvet vice. The heat, the wetness, the way her pussy kept pulsing and sucking him in deeper made his balls tighten. “Shit… you’re so fucking tight and wet,” he growled, his hands gripping her thick hips.

Jihyo kept sinking until her plump ass finally rested against his thighs — his entire massive length buried inside her. She paused there, eyes rolled back slightly, savoring the full, stuffed feeling. Her heavy tits hung forward, swaying with her trembling breaths. Then she began to ride.

She started with slow, deep rolls of her hips, grinding her clit against his pelvis while his cock stirred deep inside her. Her pussy made wet, squelching sounds with every movement. She leaned forward, planting her hands on his chest for leverage, and started bouncing. Her massive, slightly saggy tits bounced heavily in his face — soft, heavy, and hypnotic.

“God… I love this cock,” Jihyo moaned shamelessly, completely lost in pleasure. She rode him harder, her thick ass slapping down against his thighs with every drop. The feeling of her pussy being stretched so wide, filled so completely, made her mind hazy. Every time she bottomed out, the head of his cock pressed firmly against her cervix, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure through her core.

Then she shifted into a full squat cowgirl. Jihyo planted her feet flat on the table on either side of his hips, squatting low over him. Her thick, powerful thighs flexed beautifully as she used her leg strength to ride him aggressively. She bounced up and down with deep, rapid strokes — her plump ass rippling each time she slammed down, taking every inch of his massive cock.

The new position made her pussy spread even wider. The masseuse could see everything: her stretched lips gripping his thick shaft on every upstroke, creamy juices coating his cock and dripping down his balls. He groaned loudly, hands gripping her ass cheeks and spreading them as she fucked herself on him.

Jihyo was addicted. Her head tilted back, moans growing louder and more broken. “It’s so deep… filling me so much… I can’t get enough…” Every squat drove him balls-deep, her pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around his throbbing length. The masseuse felt her walls massage him perfectly — hot, silky, and incredibly tight — while her heavy tits bounced wildly above him.

The masseuse gripped Jihyo’s thick hips tighter, his fingers digging deep into her soft flesh as she squatted and bounced on his massive cock. Her powerful thighs flexed with every aggressive drop, her plump ass rippling loudly against his pelvis, wet squelching sounds filling the room as her soaked pussy swallowed him balls-deep over and over.

“Fuck yes—ride that dick, you horny little Korean star,” he growled, voice low and rough. “Big artist back home but here you’re just a dripping slut for American cock, huh?”

Jihyo’s face flushed deeper, half-lidded eyes rolling as she moaned brokenly. “Ahh—! Too big… neomu kip-eo… mmmph!” Her English came out shaky and limited. “You… so deep inside me… ahh!” She tried to keep riding hard, but her legs started trembling from the intense stretch and the building orgasm.

He suddenly bucked up hard, meeting her downward slam with a brutal thrust that made her heavy tits bounce wildly. “That’s right. Keep bouncing those fat tits in my face.” He slapped the side of one swinging breast hard, then the other, watching them jiggle with that natural sag. Jihyo cried out in pleasure, a mix of English and Korean spilling out: “Ahh! Yes—! More… please…!”

Without warning, he sat up, wrapped both strong arms around her waist, and flipped them. Jihyo yelped as her back hit the padded table, the masseuse now on top in full missionary. He hooked her thick legs over his broad shoulders, folding her almost in half, and drove back inside her with one savage thrust.

“Fuck—! So deep!” Jihyo gasped, her raspy voice cracking. Her huge cups squished between them, nipples rubbing against his hard chest as he pounded her mercilessly. The new angle let him slam even deeper, his heavy balls slapping against her ass with every aggressive stroke.

“Yeah? You like that, celebrity pussy?” he taunted, sweat dripping from his beard as he railed her. “All that stage dancing and you still this tight? Gonna wreck you.” He pinned her wrists above her head with one large hand and used the other to roughly grope and slap her bouncing tits while hammering into her soaked cunt.

Jihyo’s body shook under the assault. “A-ahh! Strong… too strong—! Nae mom-i… ahhh!” Her Korean moans mixed with broken English as her pussy clenched and gushed around him. She was completely overpowered now, dominated, her thick thighs quivering beside her head as he folded and fucked her senseless.

He leaned down, biting and sucking on her neck and tits, leaving marks while his hips never slowed—long, punishing strokes that made the table creak. “Cum on this cock like a good girl. Let me feel that famous Korean pussy squeeze me.”

Jihyo’s eyes rolled back, body arching as the orgasm crashed over her hard. She came with a loud, hoarse cry, walls pulsing wildly around his thick shaft.

But he didn’t stop. He kept pounding through her climax, turning wilder—pulling out suddenly only to flip her onto all fours and mount her again from behind, yanking her hair like reins as he railed her even harder, ass rippling with each impact, tits swinging heavily beneath her.

The masseuse kept pounding Jihyo through her shattering orgasm, her pussy spasming wildly around his thick cock, but he wasn’t done. With a deep growl, he suddenly pulled out, leaving her gaping and clenching around nothing. A thick string of her creamy juices stretched from her swollen pussy to his glistening shaft.

“On your knees. Clean your mess off my cock, you filthy celebrity slut,” he commanded, voice rough with lust.

Jihyo, still trembling and breathless, slid off the table on shaky legs. Her massive DD-cups swayed heavily with that natural sag as she dropped to her knees obediently. “Y-yes… I clean…” she whispered in broken English, face flushed with shame and arousal. She wrapped both small hands around his massive, vein-ridged cock—still slick with her own cum—and leaned in. Her full lips parted, and she dragged her warm tongue slowly from base to tip, tasting herself mixed with his musk. “Mmm… ahh… neomu jjaritan…” she moaned in Korean as she licked every inch clean, sucking her juices off his heavy balls before swallowing the head again with wet, sloppy sounds.

He didn’t let her stay gentle for long. Grabbing a thick fistful of her hair, he forced more of his cock into her mouth. “Deeper. Suck it like you mean it.” Jihyo gagged as he pushed past her tongue, her eyes watering while she hollowed her cheeks and bobbed messily. Saliva dripped down her chin onto her oily, heaving tits. He started face-fucking her with controlled aggression—hips thrusting forward, using her mouth like a toy while she moaned and slurped around him.

After several deep thrusts that made her throat bulge, he yanked her up by the hair. “Enough. Face down on the table.”

He spun her around and shoved her forward. Jihyo’s heavy breasts squished hard against the padded surface as she lay flat in prone bone position, thick thighs pressed together, plump ass slightly raised. He climbed on top, his muscular body pinning her completely. His weight pressed her down deliciously as he lined up and slammed back into her soaked pussy in one brutal thrust.

“Ahhh—! Kip-eo! Too deep—!” Jihyo cried out, voice raspy and broken. Her body was trapped under him, completely helpless as he started pounding with long, powerful strokes. Each thrust made her ass ripple and her tits drag against the sheet. He wrapped one strong hand around her throat from behind, applying light pressure that made her head spin with submissive pleasure.

“Take this dick, big star. All that power on stage and you’re just getting pinned and fucked like a whore in my spa,” he taunted, hips snapping harder. His heavy balls slapped against her clit with every deep plunge. Jihyo’s moans turned into desperate, muffled Korean whimpers—“Eung… ahh! Joah… more…!”—as her pussy clenched rhythmically around him. The position was overwhelming; she could barely move, only feel every thick inch stretching and claiming her.

After several minutes of merciless prone bone, he pulled out again, flipped her onto her back, and straddled her chest. “Time to use these fat fucking tits.”

Jihyo looked up at him with hazy, lust-drunk eyes as he poured more warm oil over her heavy breasts, making them glisten obscenely. He pressed his throbbing cock between the soft, pillowy mounds and squeezed them together around his shaft with both hands. The natural slight sag made them envelop him perfectly—warm, heavy, and yielding.

He started thrusting aggressively, titfucking her with deep, sloppy strokes. The head of his cock punched up toward her face with every forward motion, smearing precum on her lips and chin. Jihyo obediently stuck out her tongue, licking and sucking the swollen tip whenever it reached her mouth. “So big… my tits… for you…” she gasped between licks, her hands pressing her own breasts tighter around him. The sight of her massive, oiled DD-cups being fucked hard—jiggling and rippling with every thrust—drove him wild. He slapped the sides of her tits repeatedly, watching them bounce and turn red while she moaned and drooled.

The full domination finale began when he grabbed a nearby towel and quickly tied her wrists together loosely above her head, securing them to the top of the massage table. “You’re mine now. No escaping this cock.”

Jihyo tested the light restraint, tugging weakly, her body trembling with fresh arousal at being fully bound and helpless. He used her relentlessly—flipping her into every position imaginable. He fucked her in missionary with her tied wrists pinned down, legs over his shoulders, pounding so deep her belly bulged slightly. Then back to doggy, yanking her bound arms back like reins while spanking her plump ass bright red. He made her squat and ride him again, but this time with his hand around her throat, choking her lightly as she bounced desperately on his massive length, tits flopping wildly.

Every movement was emphasized in raw detail: the wet squelch of her dripping pussy stretching around him, the heavy slap of her ass against his thighs, the way her saggy yet full tits bounced and swayed with every brutal thrust, nipples stiff and hypersensitive. He bit, sucked, slapped, and groped them constantly while talking dirty. “This is what you needed after your big concert, huh? Getting dominated and stretched by real cock.”

Jihyo was a complete mess—sweat, oil, and tears mixing on her flushed skin, hoarse voice cracking between English pleas and Korean moans: “Please… more…! Fuck me harder—! Ahh! Nae pussy… breaking…!” Her body shook through multiple orgasms, pussy gushing around him as she lost all control.

Finally, he untied her wrists, flipped her back into a deep mating press—her thick thighs folded all the way to her shoulders, ass up, pussy completely exposed and presented. He railed her with savage, jackhammer strokes, the table creaking violently under them. His heavy balls tightened as he felt his own climax building.

“Gonna fill this famous Korean pussy up,” he growled, beard brushing her ear. “Take every drop.”

Jihyo could only nod frantically, eyes rolled back. “Yes—! Inside… cum inside me… please!”

With a deep, animalistic roar, he buried himself to the hilt and exploded. Massive, thick ropes of hot cum flooded her womb in powerful spurts—pulse after pulse, more than she could handle. Her belly slightly swelled from the sheer volume as it overflowed, creamy white seed leaking out around his cock and dripping down her ass. Jihyo screamed in ecstasy, her final orgasm crashing through her as she felt him pumping her full.

They collapsed together, bodies slick and heaving, his cock still twitching inside her as the last spurts filled her.

After several long minutes of heavy breathing, the masseuse slowly pulled out, a huge gush of his cum pouring from Jihyo’s abused, gaping pussy onto the sheets. He gently untied the last remnants of the towel and helped her sit up, his touch turning surprisingly professional again as he wiped her down with warm towels and offered her water.

Jihyo’s legs were jelly. She could barely stand, her body covered in marks, oil, sweat, and cum. Her mind was blissfully blank—the deep exhaustion from the concert finally replaced by total, euphoric release. She dressed slowly in her simple hoodie and leggings, wincing with every movement but smiling faintly.

The masseuse walked her to the door with a respectful nod. “You were incredible, Ms. Jihyo. Come back anytime you need… real relief.”

She bowed slightly, voice still hoarse. “Thank you… I feel… new.”

Outside, the cool LA night air hit her flushed skin as she called another discreet Uber. Sitting carefully in the back seat, she felt the warm leak of his massive creampie soaking her panties, a secret reminder of how thoroughly she had surrendered. For the first time in years, her body and mind were completely relaxed—no leader responsibilities, no pressure, just raw satisfaction.