The Breakroom

But some people are greedy. Desiring more than what they’re allowed. Like this asshole who ducks underneath the velvet rope to reach out for Rei. The idol just glances at him. Unflinching.

Because you’re already there, quick to sweep your arm across the air and knock this idiot onto the ground.

The clamoring crowd converts into a sea of gasps as they watch you pin his wrists together behind him and press your knee against the back of his head, forcing him to munch on the carpet as you call for backup. When the rest of security arrives, you let them take over, fix the creases of your suit, and jog back towards Rei.

“Back off, people. Give her some space. She’s had a long day,” you address the crowd with a raised hand.

But they’re all idiots too. Just more restrained ones. They don’t really care for her. They just want her. Like she’s made to be desired. Made to be adored. Made to be coveted.

So they continue bathing her in flashing lights, continue scrambling and pressing up against the barriers, continue screaming at the top of their lungs for but a modicum of her attention. And all the while, you’re the only one allowed to stick close to Rei, hand hovering just above the small of her back, never touching it, keeping yourself at arm’s length.

Because this is as close as you’re allowed to get to her.

Once you’re both inside the hotel, you waste no time ushering her through the lobby. She turns a few heads, but that much is to be expected from someone like Rei. The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and in moments, you’re both catching the last few glimpses of the crowd held outside by the security team as they all fade from view with the closing of the doors.

You press a button. Eleventh floor.

“Did you really have to slam him that hard? Such an aggressive man.”

You roll your eyes at her, returning to your cross-armed position three or four feet away from her. The elevator’s empty except for the two of you, yet she maintains her distance, clutching her Louis Vuitton in hand.

“Tch, would you rather he slam you? If anyone’s getting aggressive, it’s them. Fucker really thought he could get away with it too.”

One step. To the side.

“Mm, I don’t mind aggressive. You should know that.”

The heat by your collar chokes you. You swallow and the fit of your tie around your neck is made more present. “Do I now? Last time I checked, I was the one walking out of the hotel with scratch marks on my chest and back.”

Another step. Closer.

“Last time I checked, I was the one left on the bed with spank marks all over my thighs and all of that cum dripping out of me. Mm, I almost melted into the floor the floor that night. Fuck. Could have broken my back, you know?”

“Huh, but don’t you like getting your back blown out?” you retort with a scoff, and you glance sideways at her. Which is a mistake. Because you get a glimpse of the way Rei’s sharp jawline lifts when she smirks at you. “I do. I really do, don’t I?”

Ding.

The elevator doors part, but neither of you take the invitation to exit. You can feel the air-conditioning of the opulent hallway wafting into the small elevator, but the tension between you two is anything but dispersed.

Rei makes the first move and steps out, wagging a finger at you in a come-hither motion as she does. “Come. Checkout’s in ten hours.”

You trail behind her, a pace and a half away. Rei gives you this unadorned and unabashed view of her bare back all the way down to the cut of her dress by her ribs. You can see the way her shoulders rise and fall with her breath, the way her muscles tense in anticipation, the way the column of her spine goes rigid once she stops outside her door.

“Keycard?”

You oblige, leaning forward to swipe it into the terminal and unlock her room. She enters first and is already kicking out of her matching white heels. But as soon as you turn around to close the door behind you, you feel hands etching circles against your back.

“Mm, you’re tense. Tired from having to watch me all day?”

You grip the doorknob, back still towards her. “When am I never tired? You’re always a fucking handful.”

She is. Rei really is.

As the head of her security—and as her personal guard—you’re supposed to be keeping trouble away from her. But no one gave you a manual on how to keep her away from trouble. Rei always has a way of finding it. Grinding too intensely when she’s tipsy at the afterparties, allowing what little clothes she sometimes wore to slip down her petite body, roaming her fingers over places incredibly unbecoming of an idol.

She’s definitely a fucking handful. It irritates you. Whether as her guard or as something else, you’re not quite sure.

Among her recent offenses was her little stint earlier at the awards show, when she got too close for comfort to her cohost. She was practically begging him to place his hand on her ass.

You still remember the burning in the back of your eyes when you saw it happen. More so when she smirked at you as she did it

Speaking of roaming—her hands roam across your torso like they might be in search for something. You let her, and you can sense her drawing closer towards you. Once you hear the ever-so-slight motion of her tiptoeing, and once you hear the coast of her breath against your ear, your whole body goes slack.

“Are you going to do something about it then?”

You spin around, but Rei’s ahead of you. She grips your tie so hard it bends you downwards to her level. Raising a brow, she gives your leash a testing tug. “Mm, I knew it. You were fucking me with your eyes the entire time, weren’t you? Couldn’t wait for us to get back to the hotel?”

Trying to temper your breath, you grunt. “And I bet you were just itching to get stripped off your new little designer dress, yeah? Couldn’t wait for me to be the one to do it?”

“You’re jealous,” she prods, physically too with an index finger against your chest.

“It’s called work. Don’t get it twisted.”

She twists your necktie until your face is an inch away from hers. “Hm? But if you’re still ‘working’, I can’t really beg you to rip this outfit off of me now, can I? Maybe I should ask someone else to do it for me. I can think of a few—.”

Rei knew what she was doing. And you fucking hated her for it. 

But that didn’t stop you from shutting her up by crashing your lips into hers and stealing her breath. She holds you steady with one hand against your shoulder and the other wrapped around your tie as she moans into every attempt you make to try and tame her devilish little tongue.

One step. Then another. Until she’s stumbling backwards. Deeper into the room. Beyond the vestibule. Past the small kitchen and the adjacent comfort room. All the way through the living room until she’s pressed up against the windows overlooking Saitama.

Rei whimpers and pulls away, and there’s this audible pop from how tightly sealed her lips were. “God, you’re so needy, aren’t you? How long have you been waiting for this?”

“Ever since I caught you changing in the dressing room this morning,” you utter, face hovering over hers.

She licks her lower lip and shakes her head. “The truth.”

“Ever since we met up at the airport to fly over to Japan.”

Rei rewards your honesty by sliding the hand on your shoulder down towards your crotch, cupping it, massaging it, feeling its weight and heft and strain against your pants and underwear like she might discover how pent up you are from it. “Mm, you wanted to fuck me on the plane? What was I wearing yesterday? The shorts?”

“The shorts,” you mutter as she’s palming over where your tip might be. You can’t get fully hard like this, and she knows, and she keeps you in this semi-erect state as she continues. “What did you imagine? Pulling the curtains behind us while you pound into me in first-class?”

“Wanted to fucking—god—eat your pussy out and feel those thighs clenching against me while you’re losing your fucking words.”

Her tongue flicks against her lower teeth as she giggles in a low tone. “So needy. But I like you like that. Like this. Just within arm’s reach for a good fuck.”

Rei only needs one hand to unzip you, to unbuckle your belt, to yank your pants and underwear down by their garters. She’s done this before. Way too many times to count. She steadies her grip on your necktie as she cups your balls first, rolling them between her delicate little fingers, stroking your underside with just her thumb.

“You know, one of the cabin crew was giving me the look after takeoff. He kept coming back to my seat to ask if I ‘needed anything’,” she starts, giving your balls a gentle squeeze—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s working you. “You didn’t so much as bat an eye. I wonder why.”

You want to grumble something back, but Rei’s quick to glide her digits up your shaft and start shuffling them across the crown of your head. “Mmm, he looked cute too. Bet he was imagining me sucking him off behind the trolley. Bet he’d stretch my throat good. But this?”

She lets go of your tie at last and bends forward to kiss your tip, locking eyes with you the entire time, smiling. “He’ll never get this.”

Rei sinks to her knees.

In all of her glamor and attitude, you watch as a divine goddess like her descends to her knees, fingers dragging against the front of your thighs, leveling herself with your cock. It’s such a delight seeing her kneel. For all that she’s worth, she looks so fucking good on her knees before you.

And you make sure you let her know.

Rei licks the head once. Then twice. Testing. Tasting. Feeling the way your tip twitches and shudders in her grasp. Delighting in the way your pre-cum drips onto her palate. She grips the base of your cock so she can swirl her wet tongue and spread the drool around, licking stripes back and forth the length of your member, tracing the outlines of your veins like she’s mapping you out. “Fuck … yes … Just like that. You’re drooling so much. Hungry. aren’t you?”

Rubbing her pursed lips between your cock and balls, she looks up at you with challenging eyes. “Then feed me. Feed me with this thick, fat cock of yours.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you give her an inviting nod. “Help yourself first. Let’s see what you can do.”

Giggling behind her lip bite, Rei begins stroking your cock faster now that it’s coated in a sheen of her saliva. She wraps her mouth around the tip again and hums into it like she’s speaking into a microphone, all while jerking you off. With a deep breath, she takes you in. Deeper. Until you knock against the back of her throat. She swallows around your head and withdraws, but doesn’t pull out fully.

Rei repeats this tantalizing motion over. And over. Again.

She picks up the pace. Lips smashing against the curl of her fingers to meet her hand at the point where she can go no deeper. Rei gags every time you threaten to push past the tight ring of her throat, but she doesn’t pull away. She never pulls away. She just lets the drool gush out of her tightly sealed lips, dribble down her chin, and drip onto the top of her dress.

You look down at her and the sight of it all just makes you moan. Her full lips are still painted pretty. Her makeup still coloring her cheeks. Her dress still wrapping around her like a sinful little present you can’t help but want to unwrap. She looks polished. Presented. Perfect.

And you’re going to change that.

Splaying your fingers wide across her head, you grip her this way to steady Rei. Her eyes widen in surprise, and you just chuckle. “Easy now. Shit … time for me to do the feeding.”

“Mmmh?” she asks, unable to get more out of her before you’re thrusting into her mouth. “NGHHHH—HCKKKK!”

You fuck her throat.

Your hips carry you forward as you lean into her and begin pounding into her pretty presented face. Enjoying the warmth and wetness of her mouth. Enjoying the way her eyes flicker and water. Enjoying how her throat bulges from your repeated intrusion.

“Yeah? You fucking like that? You talk so much but you look much better like this—on your knees, like a tight little suckslut drooling all over my fucking cock,” you bellow, tightening your core. Rei’s eyes roll upwards when she gags again, but you don’t stop. You don’t fucking stop feeding her the dick she’s been oh-so-craving. You think about the flight. You think about her teasing. You grip her head harder. “Is this what you wanted? Fuck … Look at me when I fuck your throat.”

On command, she places her trembling hands on your thighs and tilts her chin upwards. Not only does this give you an unobstructed view of her sweaty, messy face. Rei makes it so much easier to align your dick with the length of her mouth and throat so you can hammer into her harder. Faster. 

You’re so used to the luxury of her long hair, often bundling it several times around your fingers as handles for throatfucks like this. But tonight, you’ll have to make do with entrenching your digits into her bob.

“God … fucking … damn it! You take it so fucking good. You like that don’t you? You fucking love getting your throat used like this, yeah?” you grunt in between powerful and deep thrusts that shake her entire form. “Say it. Say you love it.”

Rei chokes up and pushes past your cock lodged deep inside her mouth, but her tongue is pinned to one side as you continue your relentless facefucking.

“I said say it. Speak up. You love giving me an earful whenever I’m on the clock. Why don’t you spit it back out for me and give me a mouthful in return.”

Clawing, squeezing at your thighs, Rei grumbles and curses you with her glare. “Fhkk … HLRK—yhh …”

“What was that?” you taunt, thrusting faster. “Can’t hear you.”

“GLKKK HLCKKK—FHHKK! YHH!”

You smirk. “Speak up now. Come on. You can do it. Use that mouth of yours. Use that fucking mouth of yours.”

When you lower your free hand to palm over her left breast from outside her dress, she lets out an unprecedented moan and relaxes. You take advantage of this and push in as deep as you can, bring her head down all the way to the base of your cock to the point that she’s kissing your stomach. You hold her there. Hold her like this. Even as she struggles. Even as she writhes. Even as she blows bubbles of spit in dollops by your balls. Not letting go. Not until she says it.

Not until she admits it.

It’s only when one of her hands flies to your wrist by her chest, squeezing it, moaning on your dick, that she utters something in a broken tongue—a turn of phrase only you would understand. Because you’re the only one she’s ever said it to with a face full of cock.

And then, you let go.

Rei bursts from your grip and gasps for air the moment she resurfaces. Fingers combing through her hair, chest heaving, eyes still a little glazed, but her lips? Her thick puffy lips? They’re twitching. Quivering. In anticipation. In excitement.

She smiles.

“You … ngh … taste so delicious,” she stutters, still catching her breath. Rei whips her hair back and bites a finger. “Mmm, I want more.”

You part your lips to speak, but Rei is faster yet again. She’s quick to grip your tie and pull you in. At first, you think she might kiss you, but when she instead holds you close like this, hearing her every pant, feeling her every breath on your face, you sense the faint inkling of an idea forming in her twisted mind.

Rei lets go of you and takes a step back, hiding her hands behind her with an attempt at a coy smile blossoming across her face. Winking, she pleads through a breathy tone. “I think I’m done with this dress now. Could you help me take it off?”

This sudden slowdown rattles you. You were absolutely ready to finish down her throat for the first time tonight. But this change of pace is a welcome one because you see Rei turning towards the window once more, presenting her backside to you. Like a ballerina mid-pirouette. It’s then that you see the delicate strip of a zipper hidden behind the top folds of her dress.

She doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You glide over to her, heart still pounding, light sweat coating your neck, hand unavoidably trembling as you reach for the zipper. Pinching it between your thumb and index, you peel the zipper downwards like you might pluck the petals off a rose. The zipper doesn’t even go all the way down. Just goes far enough to loosen its grip on her figure. Just enough that when she parts her elbows to stop holding it up, the entire thing just comes undone.

And you come undone as well.

For Rei is completely naked now.

She glances over one shoulder, her side profile framed by the curve of her hair down to her chin. There’s a twinkle in her eye—one of amusement. One that asks you, “Hm? Why are you staring? Not like you haven’t seen this before, have you?”

She steps out of the dress and turns your way, flaunting her full figure on display, coated by the halation of what little nightlights could seep in through the window. Your eyes immediately lock onto the translucent pads over her areola. “You wore pasties?”

Not the most romantic thing to say right now, you admit. 

“What? Am I supposed to have my nipples constantly grazing the inside of my dress?”

“No, I just figured someone like you would go full commando. Not something like … this.”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms just underneath the swell of her breasts. There’s just something about the way her lithe yet full figure dances through the room that breathes new life into you. “Well, again, are you still going to just stare at me or are you going to take these off too?”

You bite your lip and step closer.

She ruined the pace. Slowed it down. But, perhaps, it’s time to get sensual now.

“What are you doing?” Rei asks as you glide your hands up and down her sides, really memorizing every curve of her. Drinking her in. Your eyes are parked on hers. It makes her look away—cute.

“What am I doing?” you repeat, one hand drifting up from her stomach towards the fold between her breasts. “Just taking my time.”

“You surely weren’t doing that when you were pounding my throat just now,” she replies, which is interrupted by her moans as you cup and lift one breast now. “Nghh … stop teasing me. It’s getting cold.”

“Let me fix that.”

Rei shudders when you whisper in her ear that way, but she finds herself trembling all the more when your other hand roams down the slope of her back, pausing just above her ass. You plant a garden of kisses across her neck, tracing her collarbone with your lips, and decorating the other side of her nape with more pecks.

“Fuck … yes …,” she mutters, not even aware of it. Her own hands are rubbing up and down your forearm and waist. It’s almost like you two are lovers right now, indulging in a moment of passion. But you try not to think about it too much—lest reality shatters your expectations. “Mmm, squeeze them.”

You obey, sinking your digits into the soft flesh of her exposed breast. This merits a higher-pitched groan from her, one that tightens her throat. Her head is rolling in circles as you bombard her with a mixture of kisses and gropes, palming over her hardening nipples. She loses her breath when you give her buds long continuous strokes, but she also whimpers in your grasp whenever you add more pressure with your pinches.

Biting her lip, Rei presses her forehead against your chest but you do not let up, swapping to her other breast now. Your kisses trail up past her chin, and when your lips find hers, she’s taking you into her once more. Kissing you.

“Nghh … fuck … I’m so wet right now,” she confesses in between laps with her tongue, declaring her arousal like you need any more confirmation from how she entangles herself into you. “God, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Wanted you to just kiss me after getting my make up done. Wanted … mmhh … ahh … wanted you to just take me then and there in the dressing room.”

You pull away a moment to reply. “Fuck, when I saw you with half your dress on, you can’t imagine how hard I got on the spot. Walked with a limp just thinking about bending you over the vanity.”

She giggles and lifts her leg up, thinking you won’t notice her trying to grind against you while you play with her chest. “Yeah? More …”

“I wanted to stuff you, fill you up … god … wanted to see you bend over. You look so fucking sexy bent over, you know that? So delicious. Just wanted to see your pussy drip right into my mouth while I eat you out.”

Rei’s drawing blood from her lips now with how hard she’s biting down. Arms wrapped around you neck, leg wrapped around your waist, she tugs you closer. “Then what are you waiting for? Eat me out.”

Lost in another maelstrom of kisses, you both don’t know how you manage to even crash onto the couch without hurting yourselves. 

Rei reaches for the remote, but you knock it away from her. “Let them hear it. I want them to hear how you’’ll moan for me—how you’ll be mine.”

Her eyes are set ablaze by your words, and she nods, wagging a finger at you. “Mm, come and get a taste then.”

Stealing a few more kisses, you lean Rei against the backrest and push her knees towards the sides of her head. She knows how this goes, tucking her hands beneath them so she can hold them up for you.

Kneeling in front of her, you let it sink in first. The view.

Her moist pussy already leaving a mark on the leather. Her leg muscles tensing midair. Her round ass digging into the seat.

This? This is a view that you’re sure only you get to see.

You kiss her knee. The side of it. Trail downwards along her thigh. Thick. Supple. Smells like lavender—her body wash. Rei shudders when your own hands come over her upper thighs, close to her hips. Gripping her. Keeping her spread out. Holding her in the optimal position for what you’re about to do.

Lowering your face towards her waiting snatch, you can already smell how horny she is. The scent of her pretty pink pussy permeates the air. Meanwhile, the woman who’s got her body all conveniently positioned for you doesn’t have the slightest clue that you can see the mewl that never leaves her lips, the neediness that warps her face.

You kiss her pussy. Just over the hood. Not quite there but close enough to make her feel something. Your breath is enough to make her lurch. But your lips? They make her beg.

“Fuck … lower please … more …” she pleads as you circle the outline of her nether bits. The soft of your nose rubs against her hood while you lap a few times at her quivering hole. Her knuckles turn white from how she’s squeezing her legs into herself. “Nghh! Your tongue …”

“What about it?”

“Please … please …”

“Please what?” you probe, circling her clit but never daring to actually lick directly onto it.

“MMMHH! Please! Please … lick me … eat me out …”

“On one condition: you don’t hold back a single fucking moan.”

Rei’s an idol. She’s got pipes for sure. But you love the way she sings for you when you really give it to her.

At first, it’s just little bounces. Little tilts and jilts of her head and neck. But that’s only because you’re licking her at a conservative pace. When you begin to finally press the wall of your tongue and slather your palate against her dripping wet sex, it’s a two-for-one deal: she gets to feel the pleasurable twitches scatter all across her body, and you get a rich taste of her arousal. 

Your tongue wraps and folds and slithers across the surface of her pussy, paying special attention to her clit, and when you sense she’s still muting her voice, you part her hood with two fingers and flick the tip of your tongue rapidly against her exposed clitoris.

“AHHHH! AHHH AHHH SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

You grip her thighs firm, face soaked in a mixture of your own drool and her juices, holding her firm, holding her steady, ensuring she won’t just fly away from the building tension, continuously dragging your tongue against her pussy.

“Nghhhh … guh … close! Shit shit shit—I’M CLOSE!”

You only pause to hum against her stomach. “Already cumming? Such an easy slut. But you love being easy for me don’t you?”

There’s an initial frustration in her eyes, but it gives way for what’s honest—what’s primal. “I love being fucking easy for you. I love the way you make me—AHHH SHIT—make me get off so fast … nghh … AHHH … so good!”

“Then get off to my tongue. Sing for me. Cum for me, Rei.”

It’s when you call her name that she loses all control. “Yeah? Just give in and let—.”

“CUMMING!”

Your hands move behind hers to press her harder into the couch, lifting her ass up in the process. With this new angle, you’re able to lick her repeatedly without fail. Even when she detonates all over your face with a spray of squirt. Even when she’s screaming into the empty hotel room for you to stop. Even when she’s fidgeting and flopping her arms about to try and break free from your clutches.

You don’t stop eating her out.

“Ghhhh stop … p-p-please—PLEASE! I’m t-t-t-too sen-sen-s-sensitive,” she slurs, each word dragging out, head too woozy to even form coherent thoughts beyond her cries for mercy. But you don’t afford her that. She’s been extra abrasive today. Extra bratty.

And Rei knows what brats get.

Her hands find purchase now by the sides of your head as her feet crash onto the edge of the couch. But as she’s trying to force her legs shut, Rei’s post-orgasmic state renders her too weak to really put up any fight. “Fuck fuck … ffffuuuuckk … c-c-can’t … s-s-stop …”

“Do you really want me to stop?” you taunt, peeking up from her mound, staring right at her unfocused eyes. You love the sight of her looking all vulnerable and meek like this. It’s such a fucking delight to see her come to ruin by her own volition. “Tell me, do you want me to stop?”

Her head full of haze shakes left and right as she licks her lip.

And that’s all you need.

As you part from her, Rei whines breathy through her clenched teeth, but this is immediately replaced by a high whimper when you spank her pussy. Lightly. For now.

Her eyes widen and they manage to lock onto you. “What—NGHH!”

You spank her again. But you make sure to rub over her reddened hood gently with your fingers to soothe her.

After a few rolls over her mound, you dip two fingers into her and stretch her open. You curl your fingers upwards, drag it against the top of her inner walls, feeling for that sweet spongy spot within her that makes her coil up and babble.

You’re losing her. Quickly. As you begin fingerfucking Rei, her insides clench around your digits and refuse to let them go.

“You just came and you’re already itching to cum again, aren’t you?” you provoke her, flicking her clit with a finger to grab her attention. She’s too busy dissolving into the couch as her body forgets how to operate itself, flailing about. “Do you like it when I do this?”

The come-hither motion milks a response out of her. “Yessss, fuuuu-u-u-uuuuck … nghhh AHH … Your fingers … s-so big … so th-thick … guhhh!”

“Yeah? You like my fingers? You like my fingers stretching your tight little cunt out?”

Rei beams, jamming her tongue between her quivering lips. “Mmh … fuck yes … fuck me … you’re just … you just know how to—AHHH—how to b-b-bring me there—CLOSE!”

Thumb smudging against her clit, wrist starting to ache from the rapid-fire of your fingers, fist drenched in her slick, you dip lower and hover just above Rei’s folded form. She glances away and you swear you can feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheeks. But when she returns to you, she sheds the meekness and instead reaches out for your cheek to caress it. To hold it. Then to pull you in for another kiss.

Words cannot describe how decadent it is to be kissing Naoi Rei while she’s whimpering into your lips from your fingering. But maybe words don’t have to. This isn’t something you would dare share to others—with others. This moment is something for you to keep to yourself.

She is someone for you to enjoy—all for yourself.

So when you feel her tongue losing the fight against yours and going slack in your mouth, your wrist gets a second wind as you’re now grinding the bottom of your palm into her clit while urging her to finish from your two digits along.

“Fuck fuck fuck—I’m going to cum, I’M GOING TO CUM!” she bellows right next to your ear while you’re still kissing and licking her neck. “NGHHH DON’T STOOOOOP. C-C-CUMMING!”

You withdraw.

It takes a lot to pull your fingers out of her wet fucking walls because her pussy just wants to devour you whole. But when you manage it, and your fingers finally feel the cool hotel room air, you smirk down at her. 

Rei pouts and blows into your face. “What was that for? I was so fucking—HNGHH?”

You spank her pussy. “I asked if you wanted to continue. I didn’t say you could cum.”

“Ehh, you’re such a killjoy,” she complains, beating into your chest like that would hurt you one bit. “Mmh … please … please I really need it again. I really … ohhhh shiiiit … I really need to cum again.”

As you’re still rubbing her, you move backwards and finally step out of your pants, which have been bunched up by your ankles since the beginning. Kicking them away, you slap her pussy one final time before resting the full length of your cock against her opening. “Do you want my fingers again, or do you want this?”

Rei’s grinning again. “I love the way you put your dick on me like that. Fuck, what a view … it feels so warm … so heavy … so fucking … thick …”

You grip the base of your shaft and plap her drooling sex with the full heft of its weight. “Thought you liked my fingers? Weren’t you just begging for it?”

“Nghh, but I love your dick more. Please …?”

“Please what? You should know by now that—.”

She tugs you by your tie and presses her forehead against yours. “Tonight, I want you to fuck me like I’m just another Nagoyan whore. No glamor, no paparazzi, no hosting. Just … just you and me. And um, you can cum inside this time—AHHHH!”

Fastest draw in the wild fucking west.

You push into Rei so fast that she gets no moment to adjust to your full length inside of her. She can only fan her fingers out by your torso as you pull back only to give her another full thrust.

“Shit … you really fill me up so good … God nghh your stretch … it’s unlike any other …”

Hands on her waist, lifting her ass onto your thighs, you build up a rhythm into fucking Rei. Her tits springing forth with each motion. Her buttocks rippling with each impact. Her pussy squelching with each thrust and throb of your cock.

You wipe her sides before spanking her ass. “Never had me a Nagoyan whore before. What are they supposed to feel like? What can one of them do?”

“Mmmh, I heard they’re really good with their mouths—NGHH—.”

You thrust harder into her. Faster. “Yeah? What else?”

“—that they … that they—MMMHH—that they—.”

“Use your words, Rei. Use your … fucking … nghh … words.”

“—NGHH NGHH—that they make for gooood mmmphhh—good eye candy—!”

You play with her clit just to see her face warp even further with pleasure, hearing her interrupt herself with screams—music to your ears. “Fuck … keep going now … tell me more—sell me on one.”

“—a-and … fuck … fuck you’re so big .., you’re so fucking big—AHHH AND THEY MAKE THE TIGHTEST COCKSLEEVES IN ALL OF JAPAN!”

Bingo.

Rei’s whole body convulses and even though all she screams are repeated babbles and curses into the air, you don’t stop. You don’t dare fucking stop giving it to her the way she begged for it—giving it to her good. You fuck your little Nagoyan whore like she deserves it as a reward for  her little stint of dirty talk, but not before pulling her in a bit closer for more kisses.

“Shit shit shit—like that, like that! Faster—please, faster!”

You press her deeper into the couch, kneeling into it as well as you both sink. You’re hammering into her so hard the fucking furniture shakes and threatens to fall backwards, but you don’t give a damn. All you can think of in this moment is the sight of Rei’s glazed-over and sweaty face pleading for release.

“Please! PLEASE!”

“Please what—?”

“PLEASE MAKE ME CUM ON YOUR DICK!”

It’s criminal how fast your fingers fly to her clit when you want to get her to finish faster. But it’s more criminal how breathy and sultry her voice can get when she’s needy and deliciously fucking desperate like this. Wasting no time, you finish her off with a series of breakneck thrusts, fucking her cunt like the cocksleeve she promised it to be. “Who’s my little Nagoyan fucktoy? Are you my slutty little fucktoy?”

“Mmmmh yes yes yes—I am, I fucking am—.”

“Say it. Say it in—nghh, fuck—say it in full.”

“I-I’m your little … tight … slutty … cheap … horny … fucking … N-Nagoyan … fuckt—CUMMING!”

You don’t edge her this time. You piston into Rei’s pussy until she comes undone because of you all over again.

And seeing her unravel makes you unravel as well.

“Fuck, fucking take it—fucking take it all, Rei,” you groan aloud as the final few strokes inside her pool the tension towards the tip of your cock and set you off. What gets you over the edge is the roll of her eyes and the low grumble Rei lets out when she’s hit that satisfied note on the orgasm score.

You cum.

You shoot thick rope after rope into her warm little pussy, painting her fucking walls with the thick of your seed that you’ve been holding in for a week now. Unlike Rei’s orgasm that hits her hard and fast, you feel yours deep in your core, reverberating throughout your body as her cunt becomes a vice that continues milking you off your load.

Once you’ve both come down from your ecstatic highs, you pull out. Carefully. Because Rei’s pussy is a bit sore and throbbing now. Because you want to see the fruit of your labors.

When the feathery folds of her release you, so does it release your globs of cum. It trickles out of her, crests over her untouched asshole, and pools into a crease of the couch.

“Fuck,” is all you can immediately say as you try to regain your composure. You only think to take off your blazer and the rest of your suit now to join Rei in her nudity when the heat of lovemaking finally gets to you. “Rei, you look so fucking sexy like this.”

She raises a brow and does the unthinkable. Well, unthinkable to most people. But perhaps not to Rei. Fingers lowering to her used pussy, she scoops up some of your cum and brings it to her lips, tasting your release.

“Mmm, now I kinda regret not letting you finish off inside my throat. You taste delicious. Strong, a bit bitter, very salty. Your first load is always so fucking thick too.”

You chuckle, undoing the tie and tossing it behind you. Your ears perk at hearing ‘first load’, which implies a second, a third, or even a tenth one if you were fortunate. You’re about to fully pull away from her when she has this moment of weakness. When Rei reaches out to you but stops herself.

You could have sworn she looked like she needed you. Needed needed you.

Taking one last look at her form laid out like this on the couch, you can’t help but feel like Rei’s some sort of prophet. No way in hell could anyone have foreseen her spineless after a good fuck with cum dripping out of her pussy like this from back at the elevator ride alone. Guess that’s one of her charms.

You lean forward and help her up, and she’s clinging to you while standing on her own two feet. You don’t question it. Don’t point it out. You let Rei hold you close, pressing her face into your chest as her arms squeeze you tightly.

“You … alright?” you ask, starting to get a bit worried over how silent she is.

She nods, hair brushing your collarbone, tickling you. “I … I am. I think I am … just … just need a moment. You always do this to me.”

“Do what exactly?”

“Confuse me.”

You want to pull away so you can talk to her about this, but Rei really doesn’t want to let go. She allows you some room to breathe by detaching herself, but she’s holding your wrists now. Her fingers are unable to steady themselves on you. “Don’t … don’t ask. Stop asking questions. Just …”

“Rei, I—.”

She presses a finger to your lips and sighs, shaking her head. “Let’s not get things too … complicated. Just … don’t just swap between rough and passionate like that. It gets confusing.”

“What do you want right now then? Rough or passionate?” you wonder, unsure of what the difference between either even is at this point.

“P-Passionate. Please?”

She gasps as you sweep her off her feet. Carrying her like a princess, as she drapes her arms around you, you lift her all the way to the modern dining table in this spot between the kitchen and living room. Set her down on her bare bottom. Place your hands on either side of her against the cold surface. And just press into her.

“Sorry. If I got carried away,” you confess. You feel the need to say that because a part of you now realizes how brutal you might have been. How you might have been taking out your frustrations and jealousy out on Rei. “We need like a safeword or something when it gets too much.”

“No, you’re never too much,” she tells you otherwise, patting your cheek before wiping away the sweat along your nose with her thumb. “I just … god, just stop asking questions.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Passionate. She wants passionate.

You start with a kiss to her cheek. Then her lips. Then her nose. Rei giggles, “I said passionate, not sappy. But … I’ll allow this.”

You kiss down to her neck again, but instead of peppering across it, you focus on this one spot. This single sensitive spot of hers that could always make you draw a moan or a reaction from her. 

“Oh …? Ohh ... mmmh … I like that … I r-really … like that …”

Rei reaches for your cock and gasps through sealed lips when she feels how hard you still are even after all of that. With a twisting motion, she tests to see if it’s true, and when the blood circulates through your shaft again in full force, throbbing in her heavenly grasp, she chuckles into your ear as she nips at your lobe. 

“Do you really like me that much?” she mutters. And you cannot believe she even has to ask that question.

“Nah, just when you’re a good little Nagoyan slut.”

She whines and fakes pushing you away, but there’s this look in her eyes that tells you she’s thankful you didn’t answer that question seriously. Rei hops off the table so she can stroke you better, pumping you within the folds of her fingers, palming the tip whenever she senses pre-cum ready to be smeared around it.

“You were asking me so many questions earlier. Maybe I should ask you some too,” she coos, shucking her hand absentmindedly yet with strong purpose as she traces outlines into your chest with another. “Tell me … what’s something we haven’t done yet that you want to try?”

“Seriously?”

“I’m very serious,” she’s quick to reply, and as if to prove her point, she tightens her grip on your dick, meriting a moan from you. “There’s only so much we can do at hotels and dressing rooms. I just thought you’d find it boring—.”

“I want to spank you.”

Rei raises her brow, but there’s already the spark of interest alighting in the wicks of her eyes. “Spank me? Do you know big your hands are? You’re going to bruise me.”

“Well, do you want to try it?”

There are boundaries Rei will never cross, and you’ve seen the look on her face whenever someone urges her to cross them. At fan signs when these delulu dumbasses try to make her do something weird. At concerts when the prompters are telling her to give out aegyos again and again even when she’s tired. At board meetings and conferences when she disagrees with the creative direction for the group.

You fully expect her to make that same face now. But instead, she says, “Don’t … just don’t leave a mark that isn’t red.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “Oh you naughty little thing.”

Palm meeting her ass, you grope her. Massage her. Knead the doughy and pillowy flesh of her bottom. You’re testing. Tempering yourself for now. Waiting for Rei’s reactions. When you feel her lose track of her stroking and see her eyes flutter about, you grip and tug her cheek before pulling back to give it a nice firm slap.

The recoil makes even her thighs jiggle. You can’t help but spank her again. And again. And again. 

“Mmh! Did you really have to go for it just like that?”

Spank. Spank. Spank.

“Nghh! The other side … get … get the other side too …”

Spank. Spank. Spank.

“F-Fuck … that … that—nghh … that …”

It’s adorable how there’s a physical manifestation to the way Rei loses herself in the moment. You don’t make fun of her for it. Instead, you move her hand away from your cock, pick up the other she’s been using to sneakily rub herself with, and turn her around, pressing her palms onto the table.

“What …?”

You spank her. Harder. The previous ones were teasing and amicable. This one is sharp and resolute. “Bend over for me.”

To your surprise, she doesn’t fight it either. Rei slides her arms further forward to lift her bubble butt up for you. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” you praise, both hands caressing her butt cheeks. You take your time with them. No rush. Admiring how her voluptuous bottom feels in your hands. Adoring how digging your thumbs along the inner fold reveals and conceals her tight little holes. Acclaiming how each and every moan of hers seduces you into doing more than just fondling her ass.

“Count them,” you command, palming her sweaty cheek before delivering a blow.

“What—NGHH! One … wait—.”

You spank her again. This time beneath the mound—closer to her thigh.

“Guhh! T-Two … hold on, I-I—.”

You spank her again. This time on the opposite cheek. Harder.

“Th-Three … three …”

You spank. She counts. Babbles out some nonsense. Drags fingers against the table. But this entire time, with each sting against her rump, with each flare of recoiled pain against your palm, with each whimper and moan and cry, Rei does not move from her position.

She stays in place, reddened ass kept held up in the air for you, taking it all.

“Such a good girl,” you whisper as you position yourself behind her now. The praise makes her shudder, and if that wasn’t enough, your suddenly soft touch against her spine sends her quivering. “Look who’s fucking wet after all that. Hm?”

You don’t have to see her to know how Rei’s face is probably as red as her ass. “Sh-Shut up …”

You motion like you’re about to spank her and she whimpers. “P-Please! No … no y-yeah … I was … It was hot. I got … I got super turned on when you were spanking me. And … a-and … never mind.”

“Never mind?” you mock, cupping one of her cheeks again. “Use your words, and finish your damn sentences.”

“Ugh … I liked it when you made me count. There, are you happy?”

“Oh, I very much am now,” you tease, gripping her waist. Rei is about to retort with the way her back tenses up, but when she feels your hard cock hotdogging her, she instead mewls and begins to breathe heavily. “Nice and wet from all those spankings. Nice and wet for another round with me.”

The spanking must have done a number on her. Rewired her brain or something. Because there’s no banter. There’s no snarky retort. There’s no hesitation.

Rei just bends over, shoulders and chin slack against the surface of the dining room table, fingers digging into her soft flesh from behind, spreading her butt for you.

“Fuck me … again please … one more … I need it … I really need it now …”

You smack your cock against her back, sliding it between her cheeks. You can never get enough of her ass. Fuck, you can never get enough of Rei. Pulling her hips back and lining up your tip against her warm and dripping entrance, you push in slowly this time as you let Rei feel the entire heft of your insertion.

Her feet arch and lift her higher, trying to escape the sensation of your cock slipping fully into her, but she ends up coming back down to meet your hips as she shudders. “Nghhhhh … shit …”

You work her slow and steady. None of that pounding from earlier. Rei feels the way the tip of your cock spears into her and presses against all the right places inside of her. You glean this from how she’s heaving and smothering onto the table.

One hand on her lower back, your other hand connects with her tender as cheeks. God, you just fucking love to see them clap against each other—against you. “You enjoyed counting for me? Have a bit of a new kink now, do you?”

“O-Oh nghhh mmmphh … shut up! I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You spank her again, groping her ass before letting go. “I know why that turns you on. You like being told what to do—you just can’t admit it.”

“Do I? Hnnh, hnhhgghh! Shit shit, that’s not fair—that’s not AHHH!”

She can’t even finish her thought from the pounding you’re giving her. Not faster—harder. Deep into Rei. Making sure her ass ripples upon collision. Making sure the table screeches against the polished floor. Making sure Rei gets stuffed to the brim with each thrust.

“Admit it, Rei. You love being ordered around. You just like to think you’re in control, but you crumble the moment anyone gets even just a little bit firm with you, yeah?” you whisper close to her, one hand now pinning one of hers against her back while the other is busy keeping you both steady. “Say it. Fucking say it, slut. Tell me that—.”

“J-Just—fuck … fuck … fuck, NGHHH just for you!”

That catches you off-guard.

You could have sworn you were at least ten minutes away from getting close, but hearing how vulnerable and unabashed her moans are, how Rei’s trying so hard to lift her face up from the table to look at you through the sweaty hair clinging to her face, a part of you is just taken by the moment and you lose all control.

“Shit, I’m going to cum. I’m going to fucking cum, Rei,” you declare, giving her ass repeated spanks to further sate your desire to overwhelm her, to just remind her that she may be your employer, but during moments like this? She’s yours.

She’s yours.

“I-I-I’m close too,” she huffs, body getting dragged back and forth against the dining table. She’s lucky there aren’t any complementary snacks on it—they’d be scattered all over the place now. Fortunately for you, the only mess you need laid out before you now is just Rei. “Don’t stop! Fuck, pound me harder. Harder! HARDER!”

Her begs and pleads egg you closer and closer, but you want to prolong it for just a moment. Just until you hear it. Just until she says it. You lift her up by under her arms until she’s drawn taut like a strung bow. “Say it, Rei. Tell me whose you are? Tell me whose fucking slut you are!”

“J-J-Just yoursssss nghhhh hnghhhh JUST YOURS! CUMMING!”

The both of you come in unison while you hold her close, arms moving towards her stomach and waist to wrap her tightly—so she can’t let go. As the tension from your core rolls over towards your balls before spiking through your shaft and tip, you feel Rei clench the last few times around your balls-deep dick, finishing herself off while also finishing you off deep inside of her.

Needless to say you two are fucking spent, collapsing onto one another against the table. Rei’s already groaning about how heavy you are, but you keep yourself against her back, dick still at an odd angle in her pussy.

Once you finally find the energy within you to pull away, your cock makes her pussy squelch before you hear the lascivious squirting sound of your second load of the night coming out of her well-used cunt.

You aren’t being an asshole in the slightest. But the moment you help Rei up, the first thing she does is slap your face.

You act like it doesn’t sting. Physically, at least. But seeing her watering eyes is what really gets you to form thick lumps in your throat.

“Hey,” you start, your voice gentler than it’s ever been. You move forward to try and reach for her, but she’s faster and darts out of the way. Too bad for her, you weren’t trained for nothing. You manage to catch her by her waist and hold her down. “You’ve been acting weird tonight. Really weird. Do you … want to talk about it?”

Sniffling, she blinks fast and shakes her head. “No. N-No, I don’t. I-I-I just—.”

“Rei.”

She knows when you call her name like that—just her name, and nothing else—that you’re being serious. That you mean business. Calming herself down a little and drying her eyes, she nods and returns to you. “Yeah, yeah sorry … I … Moment ruined haha. I just … I just expected you to get up and leave.”

“So you wanted me to leave you like that? All fucked out on the table?” you clarify, unsure of where this is headed. “I mean, if that’s your thing, then sure—.”

“No, asshole—that’s the problem. I … I already expect you—expect this—to be what it is. Just casual. But lately, when we … when we’re together like this, I … I feel …”

“Feel something different?”

Rei glances at you, frozen in place. If the circumstances were different, you might have reached out to brush the hair from her face, held her hand, maybe even picked her up playfully in your arms.

But this is not that kind of story. You’re just her bodyguard. The bodyguard whom she’s slowly getting a little too attached to.

“Look, Rei, this doesn’t have to get complicated if you don’t want it to. If it helps, just think of it this way: I’ll only be here when you want me, if you want me,” you propose, leaning against the table next to her. You figure not having to look eye-to-eye might make it easier for the idol. “You want a quick fuck? The guy you’re trying to hit on didn’t take you home? You’re lonely and all by yourself in the dorms? Call me. And I’ll be there. Until then, I won’t be in your way. Saves us all the thinking and feeling, yeah?”

“What if I want that thinking and feeling though?”

She glides towards you. Until your fingers touch atop the glass of the table. But Rei pushes further until your hips connect and she’s got a hand on your thigh now. Until it becomes impossible to ignore a different kind of heat spreading through you. “You … you’re different. And I like different. Because you’re never anything I might want, but also everything I tend to need. And lately, I … I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling like I want to be yours.”

“Tch, what have you done with the real Naoi Rei. She wouldn’t be saying all this sappy shit—she’d be demanding me to fuck her on the balcony.”

Rei lets out a hearty giggle but not without beating you several times with the small of her fist. “You really are such an asshole … and maybe I’m … I’m the weird one for liking that. All of it. All of … you.”

You shrug and cock your neck to the side, giving yourself some room to breathe. “You sure this is what you want? It’ll probably be easier with someone else. Heard you kept getting paired with that Niki boy from ENHYPEN. You two would make a great pair.”

“Ehh, he’s way too easy on the eyes. He wasn’t any fun in bed either.”

“Wait, did you actually sleep with him?”

Rei smirks and bites her lip. “What? Jealous?”

You part from the table so you’re facing her now, getting her between your legs as you loom over her. “Did you actually? Rei, I’m being serious. You know the protocol: I need to know these things. Especially before shit goes south, and—.”

“Are you saying that now as a bodyguard, as a fuckbuddy, or as someone else?”

You’re normally the one gagging Rei, but this time, she gags you. “I … That hardly makes a difference.”

“It does,” she argues, pursing her lips. “To me.”

You’ve spent the last three years protecting the woman in front of you from any harm that may come her way. Whether that’s in the form of delusional fans, desperate paparazzi, or damaging rumors. But the one thing all that time has never taught you was how to protect Rei from you.

Because even you can’t control yourself when you’re around her.

It’s not fair. How she gets away with everything. Sometimes thanks to you. Sometimes because of her own charm and wit. How she can be a flirt with the other idols. How she can act all innocent one day and be extremely suggestive the other. How she can just keep you on the edge every time, leaving you guessing about what she’s really thinking—what she really means. This push and pull with her has been around your little dynamic since kingdom come, and yet, when confronted with the need for an answer to it all, you’re unsure. You’re just so fucking unsure of what to say right now. To her.

So she answers for you.

“Forget it. This isn’t going to work out anyway. They’ll notice. They always do. You’ll start treating me nicer. Being more conscious and cautious around me. And just … being weird in public. If we keep up what we have and leave it at that, we can at least hide everything until we’re back here—behind closed doors, in our own little world, where no one else can see us.”

She feigns a smile and glances up at you as you hover over her. “Maybe that will have to be enough for me—.”

Your shaky lips pressing into hers stops her from ever finishing that little soliloquy. Rei’s breath grows ragged in the way that you know it to when she’s about to cry, but you hold the side of her face like you’ve always wanted to ever since seeing her for the first time at that boardroom meeting, and press your thumb against the slope of her nose.

When she pulls away, her face is dotted in confusion. But you clear your throat and muster up what little you have left in you to utter what you’re about to say next. “Let’s not put a label on it. This? I love it. You’re not the only one who needs this. Who needs me. Who … needs you. But let’s meet in the middle and just not call it anything. That way, we can just let it become what we both need it to be.”

Rei’s chuckling at your attempt at being sentimental, and immediately you just have this urge to spank her again. “I can work with that. Just promise me one thing.”

“If it’s to pull out, I can’t guarantee it all the time. Not anymore. Not after this.”

She bites her lips and jabs your chest. “Asshole. Just make sure it’s fun for you too. As much as I like the idea of using your dick like a personal dildo, I … I um …”

You don’t need her to finish the sentence. It’s abundantly clear you’re both terrible with words, so you let your bodies do all the talking instead.

Her fingers lacing through through your hair, yours feeling up her sides. Her mouth finding purchase against your neck with teeth, yours worshipping her nipples and breasts. Her breath coasting over your hardening cock and still-heavy balls, yours peppering the small of her back and the rump of her ass. 

It’s different now. It really is. You can feel it. She can too. And you both love it.

The intensity. The devotion.

The fervency.

You’ve been all over the hotel room by now, but you both find yourselves back on the couch. When Rei breaks the kiss and smudges the back of her hand against her lips, you think she might climb onto your lap and indulge in you like that. But much to your surprise—and delight—she falls to her knees once again.

Ruffling her already messy bob, she groans and leans her face close to your semi-flaccid cock. Close enough so you can feel her warmth against your skin. “Think you can still go for another round? Let’s … let’s see how it feels like this.”

She doesn’t even go into any specifics, but you know what she means. “Yeah. Yeah, give me a minute—oh god, fuck, Rei.”

Rei only gives you approximately seventeen seconds before she’s kissing and dragging her lips up and down your shaft. She has a penchant for working underneath your head. Softer than a tickle. Firmer than a grasp. Rei grabs your cock and balls and glances down at it. “It’s all sticky and moist now. Has a funky feeling to it.”

“Yeah, and whose fault might that be exactly?”

She smirks and flicks your tip once with her tongue. “Let me clean up my mess then, daddy.”

Oh she has gone and done it now.

She goes cross-eyed looking at your tip, polishing it with one thumb. “Hm? Did you like that, daddy?”

You inhale deep through clenched teeth as she strokes you at a relaxed pace. “Fuck … Fuck yeah, yeah I do. Be a good little slut and clean up daddy’s cock.”

Rei bites her tongue and nods before smacking her lips against your head, working your tip with a mix of moans as she dutifully continues jerking you off at the same time. You can feel how she now sucks you off less like she’s trying to satiate her cravings for cock and cum and more like she’s trying to provide you the purest form of pleasure she can offer.

She paces herself, trading the grandstanding of forced deepthroats to make herself gag on your thick shaft in favor of a more rapid rhythm that gets you curling your fingers into the soft of the couch.

She fondles your balls in between motions, tugging on them downwards, rolling them between her lithe fingers. One of her hands glides up and down your thigh, digging her thumb into the crease of your muscle. And fuck, does it feel so heavenly coupled with the sight of your length disappearing into her pretty little face.

When she comes up for air, drool trickling down her chin, she strokes you fast, saliva coating your entire cock. “Mmmh … how did that feel? Does it feel good when I blow you like that, daddy? I love sucking your dick … it feels so good inside my mouth, pushing down against my tongue … hitting the back of my throat …”

“Shit … you can have this cock any day everyday, Rei … god, just don’t stop … keep going …”

Giggling, she palms over your head just to make you whimper a little. “I don’t want you to cum down my throat though. But before I really finish you off … how about I give daddy a bit more motivation to fuck me again.”

You lift a finger like you might ask her what that implies, but she’s way ahead of you.

You never got why Rei would often beg for you to stop when you continue eating her out or keep fucking her through her orgasm. But you understand that now when she threatens to break her neck with how fast she’s bobbing up and down the full length of your dick with no intentions of slowing down.

Gripping your balls firmer, she looks up at you, through her tears, grunting every time your head pushes into her throat by even just an inch, lapping at what little of your underside she could with her pinned tongue. 

Meanwhile, you’re curling upwards, meeting her warm and wet mouth as much as you can before you feel the pit of your stomach readying to burst. “Shit … shit, Rei that’s so fucking hot. Fucking swallow my cock down that slutty throat of yours—god, make daddy feel good. Make daddy feel so fucking good, baby.”

She catches your term of endearment and smirks. With one final fast pump of your dick, she holds you, sheathing you deep inside of her tight little idol mouth, before retracting backwards inch by glorious inch so she can reveal the new messy coating and sheen of your cock thanks to her ministrations.

Coughing a little bit, she snorts to the side before sitting on the balls of her feet, your cock still in her hand. “Nghhh … all worked up now, aren’t you, daddy? One last round?”

“One last round,” you confirm, bounding from the couch. When Rei stands up to join you, you take this opportunity to sweep her off her feet again, and she takes this chance to wrap her legs around your body once more, and you both take this moment to indulge in each other’s lips—never boring of how the other tastes—and tumble towards the bedroom like this.

Sandalwood and bergamot hit your nostrils, but the only scent your mind can focus on is the mixture of heady sweat, drying cum, and splattering saliva shared between your bodies as you lay her down on the mattress and pillows.

You climb on top of her but she’s shaking her head. “Daddy … as much as I want you to pound me into the sheets, I … I want to ride you,” she confesses, biting her lip like an innocent church girl—but you know she’s anything but that. “Please? Fuck, I want to ride you so hard one last time and feel you finish inside me while we’re … while we’re together like that …”

You kiss her neck and grind your dick against her still-wet pussy a bit more, not offering her reply, just selfishly searing this moment of brief intimacy into the back of your mind before you get ridden. “Daddy … daddy please, stop teasing meeee … mmmh! Ahhh! Fuck … my pussy’s already aching for your dick again … Please … please … one more … one last … let me ride you …”

You push down the voice in your head that wants to make her beg. Instead, you turn the volume up on the voice that wants to indulge her desire. “Are you going to ride me until I can’t feel my thighs from how fast you’ll be bouncing on top of me?”

Biting her lip, she nods in rapid succession, caressing up and down your shoulders as you continue grinding against her. “I’ll ride you so good it’s all you’re ever going to be thinking about when we sit next to each other on the plane ride home, daddy.”

That’s just what you wanted to hear.

Rei gasps and giggles over how fast you swap places with her, trading the luxury of pinning down her soft curves in favor of feeling their weight on you. She’s just as quick to adjust too, already resting her supple cheeks against your thighs.

Swirling her hand around your cock, she measures you against her soft-toned torso. “Oh wow, I took all of this inside me? Fuck … that’s actually really hot. I didn’t think you were this big.”

“It would be even hotter visually seeing you get stretched out, you know,” you tease back.

Nodding, Rei lifts her hip up momentarily to push your head in through the tight ring of her entrance, and when it slips inside of her, the rest just falls into place.

“Mmm, fuck … daddy …” she grumbles, not bouncing, just grinding her mound against your own while feeling your full length inside of her. She reaches out for your chest, drawing lazy figures and shapes across it. “We really need to find the time to just fuck all weekend. I can’t … nghh … I can’t just keep doing quickies like these anymore.”

“We’re beyond quickies at this point,” you tell her, fighting back a sharp moan yourself. “And I won’t say no to that. I wonder what the company might think when we request for a hotel room in the middle of an empty schedule.”

“We’ll use my card,” she groans, steadily working her pace faster, gliding with her hips. You want nothing more than to feel her bouncing on your cock right now, but you temper yourself. “Mmmh, I might use it to buy a bunch of other things for you too, daddy.”

There’s a pause. Rei licks her lips with a knowing smirk when she feels you throb inside her from imagining how she’d look in the skimpiest of lingeries. “I think daddy likes that idea too.”

You grip her waist with a touch so needy that it’s all Rei needs to know.

“Oh … fuck … fuck … shit … daddy … daddy!”

Each word is prefaced by a bounce. Each pause is predicated by a low, deep moan.

You suck in deep as you lift up from the bed and envelop yourself in her chest. One hand kneading her right tit, the other taking in the scent of her skin as she rides you. Rei sinks into a gentle bliss when you palm over her nipple, and you find it both endearing and so fucking sexy how she grips your shoulder every time you roll over it.

You start bucking up into her to try and quicken her pace, but Rei pushes you back down onto the mattress and pins you by your lower stomach. “Let … nnghhh ahhh! Let me do the work. Let me ride you, daddy.”

Spanking her ass, you tap it twice before retreating your hands behind your head. “Then ride me like there’s no tomorrow, baby.”

Licking her puffy lips clean, Rei wastes no time.

She first bounces with her knees, sinking and lifting herself to a practiced rhythm as she acquiesces to the feeling of your dick inside of her in this new position. But when she craves more than this, she lets her instincts kick in and gets more daring.

Rei leans backwards and rides with her hips. Her hands swap between your shins and her own ass as she struggles to balance herself atop you. When she stumbles forward, you catch her with one hand to her chest.

You both make eye contact and there’s this drag of a gasp from her when she feels your grasp.

Giggling, she understands the assignment. Growing less self-conscious, Rei relies on you to keep her steady as she allows herself to alternate between riding you and grinding into you. Whenever she tires from working your thick shaft inside her, she cools off a bit with several rounds of humping to get her off, before she returns to the task at hand.

But your hands never sit still. You caress down the parting of her body, front and center, between her cleavage, down to her stomach. If you press firmly enough you can feel the faint motions of your dick being taken in and out of her. The faint outline of a bulge forming just beneath your palm.

“Hnghhhh … daddyyyy … so full—so fucking full. I love it, I love it, I love it—AHHH MMMHH!”

You lift your hand beneath her breast, scoop it up, swat it a few times. Move to the other side and do the same. Settling on her right tit, you slap them lightly without pause, enjoying how her breasts jiggle for you with each mount of her ride, delighting in how she full-body shudders with each gloss of your thumb against her nipple.

“Fuck fuck FUUUUCK, dadddyyyy, you’re t-t-teasing me … nghhhh you know how sensitive I-AMMMM AHHHH DADDY!”

You’re fondling both breasts now, rubbing her nipples between both of your thumbs and index fingers, polishing them to perfection. You can feel the shakiness of her breath—like her lungs might give out. “Ride me, Rei. Keep fucking riding daddy’s cock. Don’t stop … fuck … don’t fucking stop. Keep bouncing on my dick like that—like a good little slut. Like daddy’s good little fucking slut.”

“Y-Yes daddy! Yes … yes … YES! More … MORE PLEASE!”

“Do you like it when I play with your full fucking tits like this? While you’re riding daddy?”

“Yes … yes! Not a—MMMH MMMPH—day goes by! When … when I don’t imagine daddy playing with them … teasing them … u-using them—fuck!”

“Who’s my Nagoyan fucktoy? Who’s my good little tight slutty fucking Nagoyan fucktoy?” you growl, approaching your own orgasm, flicking her nipples in fervent motions to help her chase her own.

“I AM! I FUCKING AM DADDY! C-C-CUMMINGGGG NGHHH—.”

There’s just something about Rei getting off from her own debasement that turns you so fucking on. But in this moment, all you can think about is bucking what little with your hips you can up and into her to chase your own orgasm. When she clenches down hard once more, crumbling almost instantaneously onto you, you hold her by the waist and fuck the last few tremors of her climax into her as you shoot your final load of the night into Rei.

Breathing. Just heavy breathing.

Rei swipes a hand across her forehead, leans onto your chest, and bites her lip, gesturing at you with her eyebrows. “Was I any good? I don’t really get to ride you that much, so …”

“Never doubted you one bit. Knew you had it in you,” you assure her, resting a hand on her ass. You contemplate spanking her, but the girl deserves a break. “Fuck, we need to do something about those nipples of yours, baby. You can’t just keep cumming whenever someone plays with them.”

She pouts and her lips do this thing where it gets all kissable. It’s adorable. “You’re the only one who plays with them. You’re too obsessed, daddy! Now they’re all sore.”

You help her back up into a sit, your cock still inside her pussy as you kiss around the soft pad of her areolas. “There, feeling better?”

Blushing, Rei nods. “Yes, daddy.”

“You love calling me that a little too much. It’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

“I won’t,” you whisper as you kiss her cheek. Even Rei’s surprised by this. This isn’t part of the script. Isn’t part of the usual routine. Then again, nothing about tonight has been anything remotely like what it used to be between you two. But neither of you resolve to acknowledge it.

Rei taps your chest twice, and you know what that means. Carefully, she dismounts you, rubbing her pussy out a few times to soothe herself as your last load trickles out of her. Once she’s recovered, she makes her way to the bathroom, giving you an unknowing view of her swaying ass.

As you take in the final glance of her naked form before she disappears behind the bathroom door, you can’t help but hope that she might turn around. Just a glance. Just a look. But it never comes, and soon, the idol’s already running the water, readying for her post-sex shower.

Alone. Like always.

You do some cleaning up of your own. Fixing the sheets, wiping yourself, rehydrating with some shoddy sparkling water. Anything to get your mind off of things.

By the time she’s done, she’s dressed in her personal pink robe, and you’re already fitted in your boxers. She doesn’t wait for you to say anything. Rei just gets into bed and claims the side closer to the wall, leaving you to roll onto your back on the side closer to the bedside table.

And neither of you say a word. Just like before.

Just like always

As Rei drifts off to sleep behind you, a final thought permeates your exhausted mind. In the grand scheme of things, you really are just another fuck to her. And maybe, just maybe, it’s better this way. For her sake or for yours, you’re not quite sure. But if this is what it takes to maintain what you two have, then you’ll gladly bite that bullet. 

Because having her like this is better than having none of her at all.

Something shifts on the bed. Before it registers, an arm comes around you, but doesn’t pull you in. Instead, the body attached to said arm pulls itself in. Towards you. Against your side. Fitting her face against the length of your arm. 

“Rei …”

“Don’t … don’t say anything. Don’t make this weird,” she pleads, her hand atop your chest caressing you in fervent frolicking strokes. “Just let it happen.”

You dig your hand and arm underneath her, shifting her head closer to your chest, and hold the length of her small back against you like that. “Ok.”

Everyone wants a piece of her. Everyone wants a piece of Naoi Rei.

But, perhaps, you’re the only one who has the privilege of having her completely like this.

You take a deep breath. Really feel it in your chest. And when you exhale slowly, letting the drag of air on the way out tickle your nostrils, you lock in as time slows down to a blur all around you.

You scan the room.

Slashed purse at Table Fourteen. Half-filled beer bottle at the DJ’s mixing pad. Fingers thrusted at the bar area.

Index to thumb, you snap. Then it all comes back to life.

You strut over to Table Fourteen and grab the idiot with curly hair by the inside of his belt, preventing his escape. “Huh? What—?”

Smack. You backhand the son of a bitch and take the opportunity to grab the wallet he was just holding as he stumbles backwards onto the floor.

You sift through the I.D. cards and glance at the group of unaware ladies who are now looking at you in confusion. “This must be yours. Keep an eye on your things please. Our staff can only do so much.”

After the ponytailed woman nods at you in silent gratitude, you whistle and call over a triad of bouncers. They immediately swarm the perpetrator and have him pinned with his arms behind his back. “You know the drill. Put his photo up on the wall. Then give these ladies a bottle from the top shelf. On the house.”

The same lady from earlier gasps and shakes her head. “No no, it’s fine. Getting my wallet back’s more than enough.”

But you calm her down with a gesture of your hand and signal to one of the bouncers. “Hennessy. On me.”

When her drunken friends scream in elation over hearing this, the lady smiles and lifts her glass up to you. You salute with two fingers before trudging towards the dance floor.

Cutting through should be easy, but the ongoing rave makes the crowd feel like an actual ocean.

Shoulders bumping. Backs pressing into you. Whispers exchanging at decibels higher than they should be. You don’t part the crowd—you know better than to do that. Instead you run your hand through your hair and get with it. Get with them. You go with the flow. Head bopping. Arms in the air. Swaying and shimmying past person to person. All until you reach the elevated podium.

One of the bouncers stationed at the front sees you and snaps into a straighter posture, but when you lift both your hands at him he learns to relax a bit. “First night?”

He glances left and right to make sure you’re talking to him. “Y-Yeah … s-s-sorry, boss.”

“Relax. Take it easy. Just remember: make sure everyone’s having a good time. The safe way.”

“Y-You got it!” he wheezes, unclipping the velvet cord so you can pass through. You pat him on the back and squeeze his shoulder before jogging up the steps towards the sound booth.

Pressing fingers against your ear to fold it shut, you dip forward and jab your waist at the DJ. You give him no time to complain. This sudden motion makes the wire connecting his headphones to his laptop coil around his bottle of beer and would have sent it toppling onto the mixing pad had you not swiped it up in time.

“Jesus Christ—you fucking scared me. Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a set here?” Hajoon groaned, unraveling the wire. 

“I said no drinks while you’re on set. This is the third time this week.”

He flaps his lips in mockery, snatching the beer back from you. Downs it in one go. Sighs in contentment. Then shoves it back to your chest, dampening the fold of your blazer. “Whatever, bossman. Learn to loosen up a little. Here—ready for the drop?”

As soon as he pushes one of the doodads on his device, you hear the music start to quicken and pulsate throughout the room. You can feel the hastening thrum in the back of your throat. When you think you can’t take the tension anymore, Hajoon flicks his wrist and throws his hands in the air.

“Everybody make some noise!”

Then the drop happens and everyone’s cheering to the beat. Tongues out. Fists pumping. Bodies yielding.

Hajoon jabs you with his waist and wraps an arm around your neck. “You see that, bossman? That’s the kind of magic we fucking enable each night. So will you cut me some slack? If it helps, I’ll cut back on the drinks too. I only got to sneak one in because you sent a newbie to guard me tonight.”

You peel his sweaty arm off you and dust yourself off. “We’ll see. Maybe play some good music first, then I’ll think about it.” 

He hisses. “So fucking cold. But that makes me respect you all the more—not gonna lie.”

You ignore him and duck under the cord to rejoin the shifting masses. The new bouncer doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye as you slither your way once more through the crowd to get to the other side of the room where the bar is.

“I fucking told you—we paid for our table in advance. What do you mean we need to show you ‘proof of purchase’? Fucking bitch. Your place is already expensive—.”

“Gentlemen, what seems to be the problem here.”

The gravitas you exude is enough to silence the four men trying to overpower and intimidate your bar staff.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” you repeat, making sure they hear you over the second beat drop Hajoon just laid out for the people. “You can relay it to me directly.”

One of the guys tugs on the sleeve of his complaining friend, but he swats him away. He’s the only one who still looks arrogant despite his face being as red as a raspberry. “Ya … who the fuck are you? Are you their manager? I’d like to speak with the fucking manager.”

“You’re talking to him.”

“O-Oh … oh, then good,” he flinches. “Like I was saying—your club’s trying to fucking scam me and my friends. Bleeding us dry, huh? We paid for the table reservation fee AND the three-hour extension for our table. And they say we can’t get more fucking drinks?”

You gesture to the poor girl just trying to do her job. She hands you one of her small tablets and you begin scrolling through records. “Says here you paid in full and still have some credit for your tab. What do you want to order?”

He scoffs. “Was thinking of getting me and my boys a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Each. But you’re all ruining our fun, so maybe we’ll just—.”

“You can’t afford it.”

The man raises a brow. “Excuse me? The fuck did you just—.”

“I said. You can’t afford it,” you utter once more, diction sharp enough to penetrate through their thick skulls. “The table’s a million won. You already spent nine-hundred thousand on other liquors. Four bottles of this gin will cost you two-hundred-and-forty thousand more—over your cap.”

“I can—.”

You point to the lanyard one of his friends wears. Then to the knock-off Ray Bans on his other friend’s forehead. Then to the crumpled envelope in his right pocket. “Keep burning your stipend money and you’ll be out of college faster than I can kick you out of this club.”

His little group inhales so tensely through clenching teeth over what you just relayed to them that their little leader starts to physically fume in the well-deserved embarrassment. “Y-Yeah? Well fuck you, asshat. Let’s go, guys. We’re leaving—.”

You hold your arm out to stop his lanky body in time, grabbing some middle shelf liquor in the same stroke. “Here. Bit over your tab, but on me. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t get the privilege to see his dumfounded face. You salute the woman working the bar before heading towards the back wings.

This was you. This is your nightly life as the manager of SAXO. It’s never dull. Not with the constant flow of people like these it isn’t.

When you lean against the wall adjacent to the restrooms, one of the bouncers notices you and offers you a seat by one of the empty tables along the balcony area, but you reject it with a shake of your chin. Hard to patrol when seated. Hard to monitor without a vantage point. There’s never any rest for the wicked, so you don’t allow yourself any either. Instead, you fix the grip of your watch against your wrist and check the time.

Twelve-fifty-three.

Glancing back up, your hairs stand on edge.

You find yourself as if you were on the roof of the building. Atop SAXO. Where the humdrum of the club below can blur enough to the point that it can almost be considered silence. You take what you can get. In this spec of solitude amidst your night to night affairs for work, you enjoy being able to stare up at the evening sky and just gaze. Stargaze.

When you look at the stars, you never really focus on a single fixed point. There are many stars out there, constantly burning, some already having died out, some whose light have yet to reach your eyes. They all look the same to you. Same shining orbs. Same glow and halation. Same patch of freckles that dot the expanse of the universe. But once in a while, once you let your guard down—if you can even let it—you find yourself drawn to a star that calls to you. Grabs your attention. Not brighter. Not differently-colored. Not even more attractive.

It just pulls you in. And before you know it, it’s all you look at. It’s all your weary eyes focus on.

It’s all you see.

That’s the same thing she does to you.

Chests lift and drop. Shoulders form waves that veil her visage. Strobe lights paint everything around her in a light haze. She whips her head around, hair fanning out downwards. Dip of the chin. Rise of the nose. Lock of the eyes.

She isn’t just looking at you. She’s caught you.

And the pull of her lips into a smirk is enough evidence of it.

You know very well that meeting someone’s gaze at the club is a death sentence. You know their appearance now. How they act. What they do. Where they are. You can track them down around the dance floor. Pinpoint their table. Vibe check their company. Note how intoxicated they are. Check to see if they’re hitting on someone. Or if anyone’s hitting on them.

But when someone catches you staring? That isn’t just a death sentence.

It’s an execution. And she drops the guillotine on you the moment she bites her lip.

You look away. You just meant to look respectfully. You hope you did. You didn’t linger, did you? If you did, it was just out of appreciation. Admiration. She’s beautiful. That much you can glean from an initial glance. Not enough to mark her in your mind, but enough to make her relevant in your field of view.

You’re an idiot. You look again.

Honey blonde hair, dark at the roots. Freshly threaded brows. Slender nose—sharp at the tip, softer around the sides. Oval-framed visage that looks soft upon a caress but sharp upon provocation. Lower lip so plump you forget she has two to form the curve of her smirk.

But really. What catches you are her eyes. 

Because they’re staring right at you now.

You look away. For good this time. You’re certain because you push off the wall and walk a few steps away from your initial perching position. Not stopping until you’re sure that she isn’t looking at you anymore

You brush past a pair of heaving girls rushing to the toilets to vomit. 

Nope, still looking at you.

You lean over a group of college kids playing King’s Cup and ask them how their night is.

Nope, still looking at you.

You run a hand across the bar counter to inspect its cleanliness. 

Nope, still looking at you.

She won’t fucking stop looking at you. And you hate it.

Because you can’t stop looking at her either.

She shifts. Hands behind her head, hips swaying in a figure eight to the music. You’re still pissed at Hajoon, but you have to thank him for the boppy track he’s put on now. It makes her thrust her elbows out. Side to side. Doing a little spin. And when she comes back around, she smirks at you again.

It’s only then that you scan the rest of her. Filling out the form of her figure.

Buckled corset tight around her petite frame. Red pants dotted with silver buttons that you just know jingle with even the slightest movements. Nails painted silver. Armband dripped in gold. Boots that cheat her height and allow her to look taller men in the eye.

But really. What catches your attention this time isn’t in the seen. It’s in the unseen.

At the swell around her cleavage that’s threatening to spill out.

You look away. But you’re not sure you’ve done so because you can still see her in your peripheral. Like what happens when you stare at the sun for too long like a dumbass and it imprints its afterimage so fucking deep into your retinas.

You move over to the receiving area where there’s still a line steadily being processed by your diligent staff. A pair of bouncers recognize you and one of them dips their shades to greet you. You hang around them for a moment. Cross your arms. Return to the crowding dance floor. Let out a sigh.

Holy shit she’s moving towards you now.

One guy’s blatantly looking down her top. Another’s grinding against her. But she pushes past them, body still enslaved by the beat. But honing in on you like a beacon. 

You make the mistake of looking her in the eyes again. She smirks wider. Like she’s got you in her clutches with a lasso, she shimmies through the sweaty bodies around her until she’s parted from the crowd.

You snap behind your back, and time pauses.

You scan the room.

Wide hips flaring out of the confines of her fitted leather pants. Gait so resonant you can almost hear its cadence amidst the blasting music. Face dyed a myriad of colors, but her expression remains unchanging.

“Are you just going to keep staring?”

It didn’t work.

She’s right in front of you now. Three steps away. You fail to realize it until she points it out. “Not much of a dancer?”

“I dapple. Just not tonight. Just not here.”

“I’ll only believe it when I see it. Too pompous to join the crowd? Are we not good enough for you?” she remarks, voice lilting like a tease towards the end.

“Got business to attend to—always. Can’t mix work and play.”

“Didn’t seem that way when you were eye-fucking me just now.”

The bouncers on either side of you flinch. You can tell because of the way these two burly buffoons fucking twitched. She can tell too because she’s two steps away now and pressing the matter still.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you. Just patrolling. Just work.”

“Is your job supposed to be undressing wasted girls like me in your mind? You’re doing a terrible job then. I’m pretty fucking wasted right now, but I don’t feel very naked.”

“You’re not—.”

She’s one step away now.

“Hm?” she raises, and so does her brow. “Too on the nose for you? Or are you still ‘working’?”

Her hand finds its way to your chest as she presses into your clavicle, wiping away that one bead of sweat that rolls down your blazer. Your eyes never leave her face. Even as she tugs on and adjusts the rise of your collar. “What’s it going to take to be supervised by you? Directly.”

You tilt your head to the side. When that isn’t enough, you step as far back as you can before bumping into another velvet cord. Then you sigh. “Respectfully. Hands off. I’m an employee here.”

Her eyes widen like she just caught something. “Part of the background? Boring. Someone like you being off-limits—such a waste.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. That’s fine. Because she doesn’t let you. “Is it company policy to not mingle with your clientele? I just saw you getting real handsy with a group of girls earlier. You’re making me jealous just thinking about it.”

The implication of that statement is something you just keep to yourself.

Before she can move closer, you hold your hand out. “If there’s anything I can help you with, just let me know. But this?” you pause, pointing your finger to her then back to yourself. “Not a chance.”

She clicks her teeth and backs away too. Finally. But her eyes are what do you over. She’s rolling them at you. Mockery. Frustration. Disappointment. “You’re no fun. Keep eye-fucking me then. Hope you get a kick out of it.”

Before you know it, she seamlessly rejoins the crowd, dancing with the masses once again.

What the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened? 

You don’t know. You’re not sure. 

All you can think of is finishing your patrol so you can get some rest. You want to make sure everything’s in order for the evening before you leave the rest to your second. So you continue on your nightly routine. Just like nothing happened.

But god forbid this woman is making it difficult for you to pretend like nothing happened.

You can’t explain it.

When you patrol the lower tables—the ones closer to the dance floor—you see her spiraling around the edges of the crowd. Not really lingering too long at any one spot. Like she’s trailing you. Following you. You had to make one of the customers repeat themselves when you got distracted by the way she ‘fixed’ her top, flashing you enough skin to imagine the rest of what’s hidden beneath it.

Over by the entrance, while you were in the middle of resolving a dispute over fake I.D.s, she was hovering behind you. At a safe distance. Behind the barriers and bouncers. She’s watching you work. Observing how you tell someone off without needing to raise your voice. Smirking at you, twirling her hair, staring at you as she’s playing thoughts in her mind that you can only assume are no good.

Even when you sneak away to relieve yourself at the staff washroom. The moment you come back out, she’s sipping on a glass of whiskey. Staring daggers at your surprised face. With that gaze of hers that short-circuits your brain. She doesn’t say anything. Just sips. Just drinks. Just relishes in your flushed state as you hurry yourself away from her.

She’s not even meddling. She’s not even provoking.

She’s just there.

She’s going around you, but god does it feel like you’re the one orbiting her. Because this woman knows she’s got you.

She’s got you good.

“Anything else I missed? I’ll leave the cleanup and closing to you. Like always,” you tell your second, who’s already writing things down on his notepad. “And Minho, please, for the love of god, will you stop wearing those ridiculous ties?”

Minho peeks up from his sheets and pokes the yellow rubber-ducky tie with his pen. “This? My mother bought it for me, boss. It’d be a waste not to wear it.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “At least wear it somewhere else. Well—whatever. Before I go, make sure to keep an eye out on Table Nine. Got a feeling they’re runners—.”

“Boss!”

The beckon rings like a siren. You register it immediately and are ready to strafe past Minho when you see one of the serving staff runs up to the both of you. Panting. Completely out of breath. “Boss, there’s … ha … there’s a commotion on the dance floor!”

Your eyes first dart over to Hajoon. But oddly enough, he’s not trying to hit on anyone again this time. Instead, he’s watching something. Watching someone.

In fact, everyone on the dance floor’s watching someone. Noticeably so now that you realize there’s a small circular parting in the center of the crowd.

You follow the staff over and freeze at the outer edge of this commotion.

You see her.

She’s dancing like she owns the place. Like she owns the dance floor. Hajoon’s got his hands on the beat, but she’s got her hands all over her body. She’s being a diva right now. Bathing in the glow of the lights shining down on her. Feeling herself. Basking in the attention that’s being dripped all over her.

She ropes in one guy at a time. Dancing with him. Swaying next to him. Grinding on him. She slides her back up and down the front of one of them. Wraps her arms around the neck of another. One of the poor blokes makes the mistake of moving in to kiss her. She immediately bites his lip and gets a kick out of his pained reaction.

Your fist is clenching tightly by your side, and you’re not sure why.

Before you know it, you’re pushing—no, shoving—people aside just to get to the center of it all. Just to get to her. Tugging on the length of your necktie, when you make it to the lady in question, you hold out an arm to stop the next guy from entertaining her, and just grab her by her arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demand. She reeks of alcohol and sweat. “You’re drunk. You’re making a scene.”

“Yeah? Is that not allowed?” she prods, stepping closer to you. She shrugs your grip off and crosses her arms. “Didn’t think it wasn’t, but hey, made you look didn’t I? I knew it was the only way to grab your attention.”

You glance past her. To Hajoon. The man scrambles for his headphones and changes up the music, inviting everyone to return to the dance floor and party like there’s no tomorrow once again. Back to the regular routine of things.

But you don’t let up on her.

And she doesn’t let up on you.

Because her hands are now resting on your waist.

“Saw you talking to shorty over there,” she announces, pointing at Minho with her lips. “Thought you’d be off the clock now, manager. Didn’t think you’d eye-fuck me again that quickly though.”

“I was not eye—.”

She pulls you in. Whether it’s with her hands or with her gaze, you can’t tell. “Just shut up and dance.”

You indulge her.

You lied. You’re not a very good dancer. And she notices this. She leads you both. At times she lets you do your stupid little shindig while she’s busting out a move. Other times she’s holding you by the wrist and guiding your hands to either her shoulders or her hips.

And you’re starting to come undone.

How could you not? 

Every run of her fingers across one of your shoulders to the other. Every bump of her butt against your crotch. Every nick of her knee against your thigh. She’s toying with you. She’s building you up. Leading you on. Because she knows.

She knows you can’t do a single damn thing about it.

You don’t keep track of time. But after what feels like an hour of working the dance floor with you, she finally pulls away enough to give you your own personal space again. She walks you over to the wings to where her table is. Table Twenty-Three.

First thing you see are two couples engaged in a contest to see who could be the sloppiest when making out.

“Don’t mind them. They won’t get naked. At least, they told me this isn’t that kind of club,” she explains. She casually reaches over one of the couples, who you are pretty sure are sneaking in some fingering on the couch, and grabs one of their drinks. She sniffs it. She reels. But she downs it anyway.

“Are we done here? Had your fill yet?” you ask. Unsure of where you’re trying to go with that.

“Yeah. Be seeing you.”

What?

You swear you almost hear yourself say that out loud. You don’t know what face you’re making, but it must be an entertaining one—for her at least.

“Was fun. Maybe we’ll come back here again.”

She followed you around. She stalked you like a hawk. She dragged you into her little shenanigans in the middle of work. All for this? All for nothing?

It was your turn to feel dumbfounded tonight. Dumbfounded because you were a fool for expecting anything bigger to have come out of this.

You bit your tongue enough to bleed iron into your tastebuds before nodding stiffly. “Right. Right, be seeing you.”

To add insult to injury, she waves at you with a smirk as you lug your body towards the staff exit.

---

“Boss, Table Eleven’s going red.”

You know that signal. You know that queue.

In moments, you’re already halfway towards said table, when your shoes screech against the polished floor. Stopping yourself.

“Hm? Care to join us?”

It’s her again.

Honey blonde hair pulled behind her. Black ribbed plunging half-sleeve top baring a fraction of her upper midriff. Bandeaux bra on full display. Exposed skin moist from collecting the condensation dripping from her glass.

You clock the empty vodka bottle on the table. You scan the eight different people gathered around the table with her. You take note of her challenging half-lidded stare.

“If you’re done with that drink, I’m taking it.”

“Tsk, we’re just playing spin the bottle. Is that not allowed?”

“Your little ‘game’ is disturbing everyone else. Take a hint,” you warn her, eyes fixed on her face that remains unflinching before you.

“It’s a fucking club. Of course we’ll be loud. Don’t want your customers having fun, manager-nim?”

The way she addresses you makes your blood boil all the more. “Give me that—.”

She beats you to it and spins the bottle. Lo and behold it lands with the snout facing you. The bottom facing her.

Smirking, she taps her lip with her newly painted red nail. “Five shots of scotch. In a row. Think you can do it?”

The crowd around her table is clapping and leering at you. But you ignore them. “I’m not playing—.”

She loops an arm around you and blinks innocently. Twice. For just a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be the life of the party? Let’s get this night started properly. Shots! Shots! Shots!”

They begin to mimic your chant. “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

The other tables begin to chime in. “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Soon even some of your serving staff applaud you. Egg you. Even when you give them the eye.

You glance at the bottle of scotch conveniently already at the table. You glance at the clubgoers surrounding you now. Then you glance at her.

“I don’t drink. Not anymore.”

You get booed in a heartbeat.

Shrugging, she dips down and fills up one of the shotglasses for herself. “Suit yourself.” Before you know it, she’s already drank one. Then two. Then five. All down the hatch.

Just as you are about to leave this brewing cesspool, someone tugs you from behind.

You’re not one to take that lying down. Ready to unwrap your arm from them and shove them to the ground. But the lightness of the grip is what throws you off.

And it’s enough hesitation for her to pounce on your lips and kiss you.

You don’t pull away. You can’t. 

She’s holding your face. Both hands. One on each cheek. When you tug upwards, she follows, moaning into your mouth. But where you expect her bare tongue, something liquid is in its place. When you realize what’s happening, it’s already too late.

She just snowballed five shots of scotch right into your mouth.

When the taste of liquor hits your tastebuds, something fires in your brain. Something reflexive. Something ingrained. You rip your lips from her and spray out the alcohol. The two dudes behind you are fucking pissed, but you apologize sincerely and call for some staff to help clean the mess.

Returning to her, you grab her by the elbow. “I told you I don’t fucking drink—.”

“That wasn’t a drink. That was a taste,” she corrects you, smirking once more. Using that fucking gaze on you again. “Taste of me. Don’t get too drunk now.”

You’re unable to react. You let her kiss you once more on the lips and giggle before rejoining her posse for the night.

“Are you alright, boss? You look—.”

“Don’t just stand there, Minho. Get me some damn water,” you snap as you feel the liquor burning your tastebuds still. Thank god it didn’t drip into your throat. A taste was more than enough to give you goosebumps.

As Minho disappears towards the bar, you just watch as this woman pours cognac down her throat. Straight from the bottle. While looking at you.

With a smirk.

“B-Boss …? Boss!”

“What is it newbie? I don’t have all night,” you huff at the bouncer. You could have been nicer to him. Nicer about it. But doing arithmetic manually on a calculator and a physical spread sheet for hours would put anyone in a fuckass mood. “What do you need from me?”

“S-S-Someone’s um … stripping—.”

You don’t even have to ask for context.

As soon as you burst out from the break room, your eyes immediately train on the sound booth. On Hajoon.

On her.

You claw through the crowd. Is it to get closer to the unfolding scene? Is it to stop it? You’re not sure. You don’t fucking know. All you can picture are the things that will spread about your club after tonight if this continues.

When you make it to the divider, the newbie watches your back as you jump over the cord. From the first few steps up towards the elevator platform alone, you get a clear view from the side.

The twin-tailed little brat’s undressing in the fucking DJ booth. And Hajoon’s just letting her. Of course he fucking would.

Her tail point fur jacket hits the floor first. Pools at the ankles like shorn elegance. Pure irony though given the debauchery that persists to unfold. Her hair whips forward. Then back. She’s dancing in place like she’s boxed in a tight circle. Hands draw forwards and slide down Hajoon’s chest as she sways downwards herself too. When she shoots back up, she makes the extra effort to jut her butt out.

If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have slapped the fucking tease out of her voluminous rump.

It’s a miracle they’re still contained within her shorts. Those things are cut closer to her crotch than her knees. You cut her some slack. It compliments her plain white crop top that exposes the expanse of her navel.

Your focus drifts to the jewel affixed above her belly button. Sparkling. Beckoning to you.

When you glance back up again, she’s caught you once more. “Eye-fucking me up close this time? Get in line, manager. This one’s a public show.”

Hajoon notices your arrival and lifts up his beer, nearly fucking spilling it on his setup like an idiot. “Yo, bossman! Where’d you pull this baddie? She said you knew each other? You two banging or something?”

But the woman between you both hushes him with a finger and whispers something you can’t hear from all the music. Hajoon licks his lips when she pulls away and winks at you. “Fine shit, man. Fine fucking shit! Let’s turn this party up!”

As the tempo of the song speeds up, so does her dancing. She’s got a way with her body—you’ll give her that. Even as you walk back down, you can’t help but take a peek. When you do, you see her flex and swirl that torso of hers like she was goddamn built for it.

She locks eyes with you a final time before digging her thumbs into the hem of her top. “Think you can handle this?”

Just when you lunge for her, she chuckles and puts her hands back down. “Did you really think I was a slut? Disappointing. And here I thought you cared about me more than that.”

Clenching your teeth so hard they could shatter, you pick her coat off the floor and dump it in one of the chairs behind Hajoon. The last thing you see before heading back is her playing up the role she’s taken on for the night and acting as Hajoon’s eye candy for his set.

She manages to catch you in the crowd and licks her lips, biting her tongue midway.

“Fucking brat.”

“Fuck me—boss!”

You quite literally snap your pen. The ink fountains forward but you’re faster. You wrap it up in some of your old quarterly reports. Cursing under your breath, you dump the blotting mess beneath you and drag your fingers across your face. “What the fuck is the problem this time, Minho?”

“It’s her. Again.”

That’s not possible. It’s almost five in the morning now. Club’s been closed for an hour at least. What the hell was she still doing here?

No matter. You push out of your chair. Don’t bother to put your blazer back on. Just lower your head and allow Minho to accompany you to the scene of the next crime.

You hear it before you see it—the sound of glass breaking.

Then it all comes into view.

The closing staff standing frozen outside the bar. The three bouncers exchanging looks at each other in an attempt to figure out what to do. Hajoon who’s finishing his order of truffle fries while recording the whole thing.

Not a single one of them dared to stop her.

“All of you. Out. Now.”

Your command echoes throughout the now empty club. All eyes are on you as you tug on your tie and tilt your head to the side. Vein along your neck threatening to pop. “I said. Out. Now.”

“Manager, she’s been causing—.”

You raise your palm up to one of the bouncers. “I’ll take it from here. Leave closing to me. And Minho, go take our closing staff out for some fish sticks. Use my card.”

“Boss …”

You toss him your credit card and gesture for them to get the hell out of here. They look confused. They look concerned. But by the end of it, they all feel relieved. Even Hajoon whose set finished earlier tonight tagged along with your staff to freeload. You let it slide. You have bigger fish to fry.

And she reminds you of this with the sound of another glass item shattering across the floor.

“Oops. That one was accidental this time.”

You saunter over to the bar and lean on the counter. Arms folded against each other. Eyes trained on this little goddamn devil in front of you. 

Her outfit surprises you.

You thought you had her figured out. The more comfortable she got here at SAXO, the less you’ve seen her wear. But tonight, she’s all covered up. Long sleeve leopard print. Matching ankle length tights. Pink nails. Some glitter sprinkled across her eyes just above her splash of blush. For someone’s who’s been clubbing all night, she looks like she just came fresh out of the shower.

She smirks. “You just love eye-fucking me, don’t you?”

“Cut the charade. It’s just you and me. What the fuck is your deal?”

She raises a brow. Runs a finger across the convex surface of a bottle of Patron in her hands. Contemplating. “Does it always have to be something in here?”

“There’s always something with you.”

You could never understand her. Even if you tried. She does everything she can think of to be an absolute thorn in your side. But she never acknowledges you beyond the provocation. She pushes and pulls. But she never reaches. And you’re not sure what irritates you more.

The fact that she keeps doing this each night. Or the fact that you want her to reach you.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed the attention.

Looking at that flirty smile of hers that dances dangerously across the boundary of your tolerance, you can’t help but acknowledge it. She’s played you. She’s played you good. Attention-seeking. Body-chasing. Mind-filling. Every night—every fucking night—she’s on your mind. What she’s up to this time. What she’s wearing. If she’s looking at you. Looking for you. Testing you. Teasing you. Tempting you. You’ve thought about what it might be like if you weren’t surrounded by other clubgoers. What you might say to her if you had the chance to pull her away in private. What you might do to her if you were away from any prying eyes.

And now, as you’ve said, it’s just the two of you. There was no need to pull on any acts.

That’s what you want to believe, at least. It’s immediately shattered once you see the bottle smash onto the floor. Spilling alcohol across her boots.

“Oopsie,” she utters without a hint of fucking remorse. “That didn’t taste good anyway. I’m doing you a favor.”

As she reaches out for another battle, you exhale roughly. “What … What do you want from me?”

“Want? From you?” she repeats, swinging her next victim between her knuckles. Just waiting for one wrong move to let it slip and shatter. “You’re already doing what I want you to.”

“Which is—?”

Shatter. “Entertaining me.”

She doesn’t even pick up the bottles anymore. She’s just flicking them off the shelves.

“Ooh, expensive.”

Down goes the Armand de Brignac.

“Expensive?”

Along with the Magnum Moët & Chandon.

“And oh, most expensive.”

And so does the Rosé 1959 Dom Pérignon.

“You see what I mean?” she spins around and leans against the remaining shelf with alcohol still lining the higher echelons. Prodding at you as if you’ve already proven her point. “This is why I’m having so much fun with you. You can’t do anything to me, can you? You’re not allowed to.”

“You just manage—.”

Your hand’s already gripping her wrist. Pinning it to the corner ledge. She gasps. And for the first time since you’ve met this lady, she flashes you a look you’ve never seen before.

Fear.

“You,” you pause, trying to control your breathing. Your eyes are scrambling for something to look at but they’re stuck on her. Just her. “Do you know … how much fucking money … all of this … is going to cost me?”

“H-Hey … relax. If it’s really that much—?”

“Don’t try to slither your way out of this one. I asked you a question. Answer.”

She trembles. You can feel it in her pulse. You can sense it as you tighten your grip. “I-I … I don’t. But I swear, I didn’t think—.”

“What? You didn’t think it was ‘this serious’? Thought you were still ‘playing games’ with me?” you retorted, scoffing mid-sentence. “Where the fuck have you been living all your life? Under a rock? Top shelf liquor is so fucking expensive to import. I bet recovering all of this is going to cost more than the clothes you’ve been wearing here, or the fucking dingy ass pad you live in.”

“Stop, I-I-I was just—.”

“Just? Was just? Just having fun with me?” you fill in. “I run a fucking business here. And god forbid, you have been really bad for it. Just fucking terrible. This?”

You gesture to the liquor seeping into the cracks between cabinets and the counter. Mixed scents of shattered spirits wafting between the two of you.

“This is the last straw. I’m—.”

“Going to punish me?”

What was that? What the fuck was that?

There it goes again. The glint in her eye. The pull of her lips. That snarky tone of hers when she says, “Going to write me off? Report me to the police? Call my parents or something?”

It’s almost like she’s nudging you. Pushing you past your bloody fucking limits. 

Like she’s challenging you.

Like she’s enjoying it.

“Go on. What are you going to do with me? Squeeze an apology out of me? Fine me? Blacklist me?” she lists, shaking off your grip when she knows you’re stunned and crosses her arms. Just under her bust. Highlighting it. “Go ahead and try. I fucking dare you.”

“Make me.”

There’s at least seven different things you could have done in this moment. Each likely more effective than the last as you play them out in your head. But when you’re face to face with her like this, bodies inching closer to one another, you can’t fucking take it anymore.

It’s time to show her who’s in charge. 

It’s time to show her her place.

“Strip.” “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you press, stepping so close to her that your feet are now directly parallel to hers. “You’re right. Maybe I’m here as your ‘entertainment’. Then if so, let me ‘entertain’ you some more. Could bring you to the station down the street. Could make you call your lawyer or something. Could even just ban your sorry ass from SAXO myself. But that’s no fun, is it?”

“Strip. Now.”

Her mouth is taut. But it quivers. And you catch that.

“Ya … Isn’t this harassment, manager? I don’t think you’d want a case against you and your little club now, would you?” she tries to bargain. 

But you see through her chicanery and subterfuge. “After all you’ve done, this is child’s play. Strip. I’m not repeating myself again.”

Growling, she rolls her eyes and pushes you away. “Fine. Pervert. But I’m not doing it with you around—.”

“Oh, you will.”

You turn around only to remove yourself from the slimy pools of spilt liquor on the floor. Vaulting over the bar counter. Dusting your hands off. You face her again. Arms crossed. Eyebrow cocked. Waiting.

“Are you for real right now? Are you fucking serious?”

“I am. You love putting on shows, don’t you? Then put on a show. Just for me,” you fired back. Smirking. “What? You’re the one who said I kept ‘eye-fucking’ you. Shouldn’t you have expected this much from me? Strip.”

You see her knuckles go white. But you also see her mask crack.

Then you see her do as you’ve told.

She whips her hair back. Of course she does. This little princess always has to have her hair fixed. The bangle earrings she’s wearing doesn’t make it any easier for her either. Digging her thumbs against her ribs, the same way she did on the night she got into the sound booth, slowly, she starts to peel upwards. You watch as the cloth of her patterned print top tantalizingly comes undone. And you get an unfiltered view of her compliance.

She hooks the hem of her top around the back of her neck, flashing the elastic band she’s using for a bra. “There. Happy?”

You shake your head. “I said strip.”

“You said strip, and I did. This is the best you’re getting out of me—.”

“How much do you make in a day?”

“What? I’m not some fucking hooker,” she chimes. And you appreciate the sass now. Because the raise of her voice makes the soft spots of her body ripple ever-so-slightly.

“Never said that. I just asked—how much do you make in a day.”

“I don’t work.”

You chuckle again. “Then you’ve got no frame of reference for how much this all costs. How much is your top.”

“My top?”

“Yeah, how much is it.”

“I don’t fucking know. Just bought it off an app. Around ten thousand won I guess?”

“A shot of that first bottle you broke costs six times that amount. A bottle can last about twenty shots. Each. Is the math computing?”

You see the exact moment the life drains from her eyes when the math, indeed, computes.

Whistling, you click your teeth to draw her attention back to you. “Strip. Before I start thinking stripping isn’t enough.”

She’s moving. She’s stripping. But she’s doing so in a way that feels different. As her top fully comes off, she doesn’t throw it. She folds it on the countertop. Not minding your direct view from above her bra. She does the same for the tights, peeling them off like a second layer of skin, folding it on top of the former.

The fur belt around her waist remains for a while. She’s using it to cover her crotch. And you realize why.

She’s wet.

“Do … do I have to also … the underwear …?”

“What part of ‘everything’ do you not understand?” you clarify mockingly. You know she’s not getting away without undressing all the way. She knows it too. “If you don’t hurry up, my second might come back to check on me. Want him to see you like this too?”

She glowers. Even though it’s a lie. “Fuck you.”

The panties come off first. Only because the belt’s in the way. It stretches against her ankles like a spiderweb when she tries to move away from the puddle she’s standing on. You catch a glimpse of the inside. It’s darker and more prominent—the stain.

Leaning forward, she holds the counter for support before grunting to take off her panties fully now. Folds it beneath her previous layers. 

“Now the bra.”

“I fucking know,” she grunts back. You know she doesn’t need a reminder. But you let her know anyway.

Her bra isn’t the usual. Not a hook type. Not a strap type. Not even a clip type. It’s an elastic type. Just comes over the chest. Supports it naturally as gravity does its thing. Your knowledge of women’s undergarments is proven almost immediately right as you watch in utter astonishment at the way her swell of a chest comes loose from her final piece of clothing.

The recoil into one another. The ripples. The gentle sag.

You hate to admit it. But it’s fucking perfect.

She forgets to put it aside. To fold it. She just tosses it to the counter because she’s got her hand and arm across her bare tits now. You let her. Because this allows you to dip forward and tug on the long end of her belt.

“Hey, what—?”

“Walk with me. Walk to me.”

You tug on her belt. Lead her like it’s a leash. And she follows. She resists a bit, and you feel it against the tightness of the garment. But you tug back and she winces. Then moves again. Until she’s all the way out of the bar area and is now hovering next to you by one of the tables in the wings.

You clear the surface of the sturdy glass and gesture to it. “Get on.”

She doesn’t question you. Not while she’s naked. Not when you hold her dignity in her hands. In order to mount the table, she had to let go of her chest, and when she lays down, you finally get to see it.

Her full form. Naked. Unadorned. Natural. All of it for you to see.

All of it laid bare.

“God, if you weren’t such a fucking brat, you’d be perfect,” you whisper. You mean it. 

Her smooth pale skin. The shape of her chest and the sheen of sweat across it. The quiver of her thick full lips. The spread of her legs. The clasp of her thighs against each other. The bare and kempt state of her nether bits. 

They’re all right there. Laid out on the table. On full display.

Just for you.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that,” she replies. Halfway between a smirk and scorn. You then realize you had said it out loud. She chuckles. Gestures to you with a finger. A hither-to motion coupled with that stare of hers again. Those ‘make me’ eyes. That ‘fuck me’ gaze. “Gonna do something about it? Or is that against company policy again, manager?”

Oh she’s asking for it now.

You loosen your tie. You kneel on the table. She looks frightened for a moment—worried the glass might break. But you prove her otherwise when you lean forward between her legs so your face is level with hers now. Hovering above it.

“I’ll show you what a fucking tease like you deserves.”

You press your lips against her and feel no resistance. Instead, she welcomes you. Her own soft hydrated folds part for you. Nibble on you. Suck you in. Her tongue is a welcome mat that unfolds into a stretch of red carpet for your own tongue to gloss and strut all over. She whimpers and moans the moment she gets her own tongue caressed in velvet. But she doesn’t complain. Doesn’t react.

Doesn’t resist.

Her hands come around your neck now as she pulls you further in, and you take this opportunity to get a little handsy yourself. 

You go for her tits. God, how could you not go for her tits? 

You’re cupping them. Fondling them. You know better than to just squeeze them like a child—no. You lift them up. You caress down the inner curve of each, polishing down and along her cleavage. If you weren’t kissing her right now, you’d have smothered your face between them. Sniffing them. But you save that for later. For now, you register the sensation of her in your head.

Hefty. Heavy. Fucking heavenly.

She gasps sharply when your right pinky hits her left nipple. You notice when you peek open an eye that she’s hard. Both of them are. Both of her nipples. They’re stiff and rounded little peaks that tempt you to oblivion. So you succumb.

One pinch and she forgets how to kiss you. Another and she’s gasping for air, breathless in your clutches. A third and she’s arching her back upwards.

“Fuuuuck,” she groans, her face getting flushed. “Do that again …”

You press your pointer to her nipple. Thumb on the other side. Wind her up by rubbing them together. Before pinching on the supple tip and pulling it upwards. Polishing it. Relishing it. Treasuring it.

She shudders more intensely now. You do the same to the other side and she’s willingly showing you the column of her neck as her body lifts from the table. “God … shit, you’re … you’re actually good with the—AHHH!”

You lick her neck. 

One stripe. Two. Slow. Tracing over the parts that make her quiver. Prolonging over the parts that make her moan. You lick upwards to her chin. Over her lips. And press a kiss on them before repeating the cycle.

Her eyes flutter open and close, unable to focus. Whenever your gazes meet, she doesn’t turn away. She stares deeper into your soul. The facade from earlier having crumbled completely.

She reaches for your chest. However she can in this tightened position. She runs her hands across your pecs, down to your abdomen, where she then hitches her fingers into your waist and belt, and unbuckles it.

While you’re licking her nipples now. suckling on them, teasing them with the sharp of your tongue alternating with the long flat wall of it, you notice she’s grinding against your thigh. There’s a noticeable dampness. A moisture. Permeating your supposedly waterproof slacks.

You chuckle and bite down on one nipple. And this makes her scream in absolute ecstasy.

One hand moves from your fly to the back of your head, gripping your hair, guiding you to where she wants you to kiss, suckle, and lick across her full fucking tits. The other unzips you. Hastily pushes your pants off. And tries to get you out of your clothes this time. When the back of her palm hits your bulge however, she freezes.

“Wait … wait—NGHHH—stop, I-I want to see this …”

You withdraw from the addiction that are her breasts and wipe the slobber from your lips against the cup of your shoulder. “What?”

“Your dick. I … I just want to see how it looks like, ok …?”

You push up from the table, nearly slipping from how sweaty your palms have gotten, and right yourself so she can sit up against the edge and be leveled with your crotch. Taking a deep breath, she palms over your bulge that’s on the verge of bursting against your boxers.

“Oh. Oh wow, you’re …” she stutters. Fails to find the right words. She looks up at you and blushes. Nothing like the incessant little prick she’s been previously. Instead, she has this yearning look on her. Like she wants to know. Wants to see. Wants to feel.

So you let her.

You don’t even move. You let her do it herself. Nails digging into your waist, prying your black underwear downwards until it slides off. You flick it off once it’s just around one heel, and you present this woman with the unadulterated direct view of your cock.

She doesn’t speak.

Her face hovers closer and closer until her left cheek presses against your semi-erect shaft. “Fuck … you’re bigger than my face … I-I … I don’t know if I can …”

“You’ll work it out. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you manage to.”

She licks her lips and bites her tongue. “Mmmh, yeah? Make me then.”

One palm on the top of her head. Another beneath her chin to angle it the right way. You press your swollen tip against the entrance to her mouth and groan. “Then fucking take it.”

You push open. Burst into the warmth. Get enveloped by the wet velvety walls past her little locked lips.

She whimpers from the first breaching. You take it slow. Knocking down an inch more. Then two. Then she’s taking you halfway in. Then, you’re knocking against her uvula at the back of her throat.

Her neck stiffens rigidly against your persistent hand, but she’s not strong enough to break free even if she tried. So you keep her there. All the way down. Lips forming a tight ring around your base as she gags and hlurks and spews her own saliva out from the small tears in her vacuum sealed mouth. You keep her there for god knows how long, taking pleasure in both the physical sensation of her mouth and the knowledge that you’re finally getting to see her use it for something other than provoking you.

Once her eyes redden beyond reason, you let go of her head, and in moments, she spits you out with a guttural groan as she could breathe properly again.

“Nguh … ha … ha … You fucking psycho … Could have—I could have choked to death on your fucking dick,” she spits out, smudging her hand across her chin. “But … ha … that was good.”

“Good?”

She bites her lip and nods, gripping your cock now with a hand. “Yeah … fucking delicious. I want more.”

“Then suck it like a good little slut.”

Knees spread, bending at an angle now, she closes the gap and licks up from your base to your tip before suckling on the head. Just a few swirls with her tongue. Before she throats your cock herself.

No prompting. No input. No hesitation.

Her head and neck work in tandem to bob her salivating mouth back and forth along the length of your shaft. Lips cruising down your sensitive skin. Tongue flattening and caressing your underside. Whenever her lips meet her hand that’s gripping what she can’t reach, it makes this popping sound that you want to hear more and more.

She’s got no technique. She gags too easily. But fucking hell—the raw and primal energy she exhibits is relentless. It’s fucking intoxicating.

This woman’s moaning in between violent gags, and you notice it whenever her nipples bump into your thighs. You smirk. You push deeper into her, making her eyes go wide, hit the back of her throat, and force her to adjust while sucking you hard and fast still. But this time, her nipples graze your inner thigh each time and you see her eyes melt from their initial panic and hesitation.

When she pulls you out with a loud smacking sound, she’s gasping, panting, eyes wet, lips swollen, but tongue licking up your precum on the tip oh-so-fucking-hungrily.

“You taste so … fucking … good, mmm,” she murmurs, stroking your first few inches, thumb rolling over the head. “Who knew the uptight manager was packing so fucking much?”

“Consider yourself the exception and not the rule,” you barely get out in one full breath as her stroking is getting more intentional rather than lazy.

“Lucky me then,” she mutters, blowing your tip a kiss. She licks up once. Then twice. Then circles around ridge of your head. Playing with it. Toying with you. Face disappearing beneath you as her eyes almost glow. “This is all mine—.”

The doors to the club open and you hear footsteps.

Time doesn’t afford you the luxury to curse. You’re both scrambling. For clothes. For refuge. Anything.

You only manage to put your pants back on. Not even to fix your underwear. Your belt’s not even buckled. When you see who it is walking into the open space of the club, he shoots you a weird look. “Boss?”

“Already done? Thought you’d all be enjoying spending my money a bit more,” you reply, hands in your pockets to stop your slacks from falling down. “Where are the others?”

“Um, home, boss. It’s six in the morning.”

“Right, right.”

“Boss, you haven’t been drinking again, have you?”

You gesture to yourself with a thumb jutting up from your waist. “Me? Why would I be?”

But Minho shakes his head, one hand smoothening the folds of his brown and white checkered tie that reminds you of brownies. “Nothing. Just making sure. Did you manage to sort out the issue? With the lady?”

You nod. That’s all you can give him. That’s all you really want to give him. Because your dick’s being bent at such a bad fucking angle in your tight slacks that you want to just let it free again. It would rather be inside somewhere else too. “Told her off. She got scared easily when I talked to her alone. Said she’ll ‘behave’ more—whatever that means.”

“Is she still here?”

You freeze. Muscles behind your thighs tighten. “She left just after you and our staff did.”

“Then why is her fur thing still there?” he asks, pointing to the peeking belt the woman left behind. If Minho hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have seen the terrible fucking hiding spot she chose. On all fours behind one of the table’s walled legs. Buck naked.

As Minho approaches, you casually just pick up the belt with your left hand and tug on it. Even when it goes taut. She gasps and shakes her head nervously, but you continue as you stare down at her. “Must have left it. I’ll hand it back when she comes back. I know she will. Leave it to me.”

Those final four words are always enough for your second to stop in his tracks, just a few meters away from your table, and nod. “Got it. You should get some rest too, boss. If, you know, only if you can. I don’t want to pressure you if it doesn’t—.”

“Thanks, Minho. I appreciate it.”

“And hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or share the workload from admin—.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Go home, Minho. I’ll see you tonight.”

He nods and salutes you with three fingers. “See you tonight, boss.”

Once you’re certain your second’s walked out the door and is well beyond the entrance of SAXO, you pinch the bridge of your nose and feel the other end of the belt shifting between your knuckles.

“Is he always like that? Sounds like he sucks your dick more than I do.”

“He’s enthusiastic. He’s a godsend,” you tell her, helping her up to her feet. But you don’t let her go. Not the belt. Not her waist. You pull her in until she’s arching her stomach towards you. Dipping backwards. “And you? I’m not done with you yet. Let’s head to my office.”

Her drool-covered mouth shifts into a smirk. “Yeah? Make me—.”

You crash your lips onto hers and she jumps into your arms. You lift her up by her thighs and support one arm around her lower back as you stumble across the wings of the club to get to the staff-only area.

Kicking the door open, you slip in before it can close. And you feel her tongue lapping at your lips and teeth as she grips your head firmly like she doesn’t want you to leave. Oh boy, do you have no plans to leave her at all.

You hasten down the corridor. Shoulder bumping into the water dispenser. Then, you fish for your keys and unlock your office.

Once you’re both in, your elbow flies to the button and it locks with a click. She pulls away from you and presses her forehead against yours, caressing your cheek. “Hmm, you’re sexy like this. Taking control. Not holding back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she giggles lowly as you put her on your desk. Her ass is compressing against your laptop as she sits on it. She takes a moment to look around. At the only light hovering above you both. The two sofas on either side of the front of your desk. At the pictures, certificates, and permits on one wall. “Never done this before. Banging in the backrooms of a place.”

“Who said I was going to fuck you?”

She slaps your neck and points her chin at you. “Really? You worked me up like this just to—.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Her sentence is choked off immediately when you rub two fingers against her clit. Her hand instinctively flies to your neck, holding you for support. You rub steadily in circles, occasionally swiveling over the hood, swiping back and forth over her sensitive little button. And which each motion, you watch her progressively soften her face up from a glower, to a whimper, to a moan.

“Yeah—NGHH MHHH—yeah I think I-I like you like this best.”

“Like what?”

She inhales through her clenching teeth. You’re still swiping down her clit with your thumb like you’re flitting through bills at the bar counter during closing time. “L-Like you … hnghh … like you know just what to do.”

“Do I?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I’ll … mmh—give you a point for the kissing, but—.”

She interrupts herself with a moan. The culprit? Your tongue.

“But what?” you raise, licking once more from her entrance all the way to her hood. Her pussy tastes like it smells. Sweaty. Musky. Bit of tang.

Tastes like need.

You feel her fingers knit through your hair. “But … I nghh … but I was the one doing most of the kissing …”

Palms to her thighs, you keep her legs parted. Eyes up to see her reaction. Nose bumping into her button as a tease at first, but now you’re intentionally grinding the pad of it against her clit. Tongue swiping up and down her slit like a credit card that won’t register at the terminal. “Go on. I’m sure I’ve got more points in there somewhere.”

Her fingers dig into your scalp. “I’d … I’d give you two points for all … the fucking things … mmm you did to my … to my tits …”

You kiss her clit. Suckle on it. Pin the hood between your flaps as you peel it back gently with the sharp of your tongue and swirl around her now-exposed button like it’s your favorite M&M. “I sense a but there.”

As you say that, you grip her ass now, finger jammed between her plush bottom and the edge of your laptop. “Continue or I’ll stop.”

“But it’s not fair because—AHHH—because I-I … I’m always sensitive there anyway …”

You figured. But you don’t excuse her.

Your tongue flattens itself against her and does this perpetual motion that makes her feel like you’re never running out of tongue. Up and down. Side to side. Rotations in both clockwise and in reverse. You don’t let up. You never let up. Not until you feel her dribbling that delicious nectar against your chin. Not until she’s moaning up a storm from just your tongue alone. Not until she’s yanking your fucking head lose.

“Sh-sh-shit … nghh … yes … YES! Fuck—I’m close, I-I-I’m—.”

You press your cheek to the side to catch your breath. Rest your tongue. “How many points am I getting for this?”

She dunks your head back against her pussy. “Shut u-up and just eat me … please …”

You smirk. That’s what you want to hear. You slow down your pace though. No longer giving her endless stimulation. No longer lapping her up like a hungry dog. You take your time. Build your pace. Get her closer and closer to that fucking point of no return. But don’t send her off into the deep end.

“Faster … please faster fuck … nghhh you’re—I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing? Tell me,” you say between medium-paced strokes. Like you’re enjoying a vanilla soft serve. Taking your time. But not letting the cream melt off. “Lost your words? You were so full of them—.”

“You’re teasing me,” she pushes, groaning with her back arching up. “Please … fuck … please …”

“Please what?”

“Please … eat my fucking pussy out like you own it!”

That’s all you need.

You slide your wide palms up from her butt, down her thighs, until they’re behind her knees, pinning both of them next to her face, folding her in half. Her back arches. Just the perfect height for you to lean forward and eat her the fuck out.

“OHHHH FUCK YES! Shit … shit … too much—TOO MUCH!”

But you don’t stop.

Your tongue hones in on her clit. Spreading around your saliva and her juices like a butter knife against smooth toast. She’s trembling, then shuddering, then palpitating. And that’s your queue to keep it steady. You lap at her like you’ve been starving for days. Even when your tongue numbs. Even when your jaw slacks. Even when your mouth is now full of her fucking scent and flavor.

You. Don’t. Stop.

“Fuck—CUMMING!”

She’s a squirter. She’s a goddamn fucking squirter. 

When she erupts she glazes your face with a warm spray. It lasts for more than ten seconds. Not stopping until the mess she’s made is dripping down onto your long-sleeves. She can’t breathe. She’s forgotten how to. So you decide to not be a dick and let her have a moment to herself first.

And the moment she’s regained her senses, she looks up at you and sits up. “That … ha … ha … felt amazing. You were amazing.”

But you hold your hand out against her thigh and push her back into that folded ball, knees to her head, ass up in the air.

“What—?”

“Hold it. Hold yourself like that for me.”

Reddened at the face, she nods and tucks her hands beneath her knees to hold herself in position—in offering—for you.

Now that? That is a picture-perfect moment.

You press your thumbs to the highest button. By your neck. You pop it open. You do the same for the second. Pop it open. You have about eight of these. And you take your time with each one. Because you know she’s watching you. Waiting for you. Wishing she could be the one to just rip your polo from you and finally see your bare body. You know that much. You know it because while her mouth may lie, her eyes? They don’t.

Her eyes never lie.

Once you’re finally pulling your arms through your sleeves and dropping the polo on the floor, she groans when she sees what’s underneath. “Are you kidding me? That must be fucking hot in there. You wear that every night?”

You don’t answer. You pull your undershirt off. Shove your slacks down with your boxers. And step forward. Pressing your hands next to her knees, which are next to her face. You lean in and grin. “Manager’s choice.”

You slap your cock against her pussy like you would her lips, and she responds with a tremble. Her pussy has a life of its own. It’s throbbing. Pulsating. Even after an orgasm. Such a fucking greedy little hole on an insatiable little brat. But no matter. You’ll feed her soon enough.

You grind into her. Rub your length against her folds. Poke your tip into her receding belly button. Make her feel the heat between her legs. Giving her the appetizer. 

Her eyes flicker with the fire of someone who just can’t fucking wait to burn. But you don’t move. Not much. Not anything beyond some grinding and dry humping. If you can even still call it ‘dry’ at that point. Considering your underside is being conveniently lubricated with each caress of her pussy.

“Are you going to fuck me or just stare me to sleep?” she spits. You have to admire her spunk despite how she’s folded on your desk like this. “Maybe I should call your little errand boy to do me instead. Maybe he won’t waste my time—.”

“Beg.”

She falls silent. Like you pushed the right button. 

“No.”

You slap your shaft against her pussy and wake her up. Like you slapped her across the face too. “Beg. Or I can just walk out of here, head to a strip club, and fuck one of the girls there instead.”

“Like hell you could. They don’t allow that.”

“I could. I know people.”

She bites her lip. “Fuck you. I’m not going to beg. You either fuck me or you don’t.”

You pull away. Motioning just the slightest bit for your undershirt. But immediately, you feel a grip against your arm.

“If you put that fucking undershirt back on, I will never forgive you.”

You chuckle. “Yeah?”

She spreads her legs. Wider. Lifts her butt. Higher. Makes it so her body is parted not just in invitation, but also so you can see her face clean down the middle. Past her tits. Resting against the fan of hair draped behind her like a veil.

“Please. Fuck me. Or whatever—.”

You push your dick in.

The enlarged tip meets some resistance already, noted by the pitch of her moan. There’s a ring. A tight fucking ring at the entrance. And for a heartbeat you’re afraid you might rip something. But just like her attitude, her body learns to cave in to you.

You’re in now. Not just the tip that flares at the base of her. Not just the first few inches that part the tight clenching walls of hers. But all the way in.

You’re pressed in so deep that there’s nowhere else to go. And your cock isn’t even fully inside her.

Her eyes widen. Whites glowing as her pupils dilate. “Shit. Fuck. Y-You’re stretching me … T-T-Take it slow—please—AHHH!”

You don’t take it slow.

Pressing her hands firmer against the back of her own knees, using that grip to slide her closer to you. You pull out and then ram your cock deep inside her. Once. Twice. Repeatedly. Faster. Gaining pace. Gaining momentum. Knocking on her womb with everything you’ve fucking got.

And she is just a mess.

“Is this what you fucking imagined when you were messing with me? Is this what you fucking wanted when you were acting like a little brat every night? Answer me,” you demand, pressing into her thighs now, gripping them, pounding incessantly. You haven’t had sex in god knows how long. It only felt right to dissolve completely into the temptation of her. “What? Lost your words?”

Her eyes can’t focus on any one thing, drifting here and there. Mouth agape. Tongue firmly planted between her lips. She’s moaning with each of your thrusts. So you fuck into her faster to hear it. To hear more. You’re immediately rewarded by the change in pitch, the change in frequency, and the added percussive of her tits slapping together.

Sweat dripping down your face and neck, you grip her ass from the side and slap it. Watching the pink blossom. Feeling her skin heat up. You spank her again. And again. And again. Until she finally screams her reply.

“YES! Fuck … fuck … FUCK—YES! Pound me like this. Keep fucking going. NGHHH you’re going to fucking ruin me!”

“Yeah? Then get fucking ruined.”

You press your thumb to her clit and start rubbing it fast. No direction. No patter. Just fast flicks and rotations.

“FUCK! YOU’RE—.”

Smack. Smack. Smack. Your hips meet the swell of her ass as she’s bouncing on your dick. Matching your pace. Meeting each upward thrust of yours with a downwards stroke of hers.

“C-CLOSE! Don’t stop—DON’T FUCKNG STOP!”

You pull her ass off the edge just to knock her knees into your desk. Her eyes are glazed over. Pure fucking bliss. You’re working double time with your heels and your waist to deliver blow after blow deep into her pussy. She’s clenching. Squeezing you. Craving your fucking release. But you don’t stop. You don’t give her that luxury. Not yet.

“Who’s fucking your little pussy right now?”

“MMMH … wh-what—?”

“Answer me! Who’s fucking ruining your little pussy right now?” you grunt, fucking the daylights into her while fiddling with her clit.

“Y-You … AHH!”

“Yeah? And who’s going to make you cum? Answer me.”

There’s less hesitation this time. She spits it out, “You! Fuck ….fuck I-I-I can’t—.”

“And who fucking owns you? Tell me. Say it. Moan it. Fucking scream it—.”

“YOU FUCKING OWN MY PUSSY, MANAGER!”

That was it.

You smudge your thumb against her button, really grind into it. You force whatever remaining strength you have left to thrust specifically upwards into the soft spongy spot that kept making her lose her breath. And you lean in to kiss her. Passionately. Sloppily. Possessively.

Claiming her. As you claim her squirting orgasm all over your cock.

She can’t even moan. Just whimpering into your kiss as she lets go of her shaking legs. You grab her ankles and feel her feet tensing into a point. But she slaps your arms and pulls them closer to her, tugging on them like reigns so she can feel your full erect length stretching her pussy down to the final spasm of her release.

Then, it’s your turn.

“Fuck … fuck that—wait … wait wait wait—AHHHH SHIT—!”

One arm behind her back, holding her close. The other lifting her leg up so her knee’s hooked over your shoulder. One hand gripping her waist. The other palming her clit. You send her into a state of borderline catatonia as she moans and groans and scrambles to try and break free as you overstimulate her senses. But you don’t stop. You chase after your own release while inside her clenching and spasming death-grip of a pussy.

“Going to fucking—.”

“GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING LOAD!”

You burst.

Your whole body’s tensed. Did you know that? You didn’t up until you allowed yourself to let go. To let it all loose. The first shot burns your tip with how rapid it fired out. With how tight she’s clamping around you. The next few shots spread pleasure all over your stomach, racing up your spine, and then finally scattering across the back of your head. The last few shots send your mind into a daze as your first orgasm in arguably months finally escapes you. Finally finds its place. Finally fills her the fuck up so bountifully.

Unsheathing yourself from her warm, sweating, and pulsating orifice, you let your cock droop against your thigh. Semi-erect still. Sensitive to the cool air of your office. Dripping an ounce or two of leftover cum.

And she’s there. On your desk. Unmoving. Naked, heaving mass. Sweaty all over. Arms flayed out to the side. Chest rising and falling unsteadily. Nipples perking from the cool. Ass hanging off the edge. One knee pointed upwards. The other outstretched with her leg to keep her steady.

There she is. Cum dripping out of her like a mark. Like a signature.

There she fucking is. No masks. No games. No resistance.

Completely laid bare.

---

The door to your office bursts open. But you’re not flinching this time. You’re focusing on transferring your hand-written computations from the pile of papers next to you. Digitalizing them.

“What’s the matter this time, Minho? We haven’t even opened yet.”

“Sorry for not knocking boss, but it’s Hajoon. He … let’s just say he ‘pre-gamed’ a little too hard and is um, throwing up all over Table Thirty-One—.”

“Well, clean it up. Do I have to be the one to deal with every single mess?”

Minho’s eyes lower to his polished shoes. “I … You’re right. I’ll handle this myself.”

He pauses. Looks at you now. You know this despite being deep in your sheets. You can see him from your peripheral. “And?”

“Boss, are you … eating something?”

You shrug. “Haven’t had a meal all day. Haven’t caught any shuteye either. All the damages. All the losses. Marking them all down first.”

“Want me to grab some food then before we open? What are you craving?” he asks with a smile. And you can sense that he’s quite hungry too.

“Think that American place a few streets down’s still open? I could go for a sloppy joe right about now.”

He snaps and winks at you. “You got it boss. I’ll be on my—huh. There’s that sound again.”

“Must be a leak in the vents. I’ll call plumbing later.”

Minho grins and nods. “Always one step ahead, aren’t you, boss?”

You nod in reply and return to your sheets. There’s a brief pause. Then, Minho’s finally disappeared behind your closing door.

In moments, her head resurfaces from underneath your desk. Face sweaty, half dripping with cum half drying in it, thick lips pursing and bubbling over the tip of your cock.

“You like it sloppy, don’t you? Mmmmh,” she teases while wiping your thick shaft against her softer features. “Who could have guessed?”

You reach down to lift her chin and say, “If you’re going to pay off your debt, you might as well get back to it. We’re opening in two hours. So unless you want my staff to wonder why one of our clubgoers is walking around ruined like a cheap little whore, I suggest you make it worth my while.”

Giggling with that same teasing energy of hers, but just converted into something else now, she nods and kisses your tip again.