Synopsis: Your team is getting crushed—down by twenty at halftime and your shots just aren’t falling. When Yujin slips into the empty locker room in her cheer uniform to “boost your energy,” the motivation gets a lot more physical than pom-poms and chants.
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The scoreboard was brutal. Down by twenty at halftime, and the crowd was already starting to sound restless. You sat on the bench in the locker room, towel over your head, trying to shake off the frustration. Missed layups, turnovers, bad calls—it felt like everything was off tonight.
The rest of the team had gone to the coach’s office for whatever motivational speech he was cooking up. You stayed behind, needing a minute alone. That’s when the side door creaked open.
Yujin slipped in, still in her cheer uniform—short skirt, tight top with the school colors, hair in a high ponytail with a ribbon. She looked too bright for the mood in here.
“Hey, superstar,” she said softly, locking the door behind her. “You looked like you needed this.”
You lifted the towel off your head and managed a tired smile. “What are you doing in here? If someone sees—”
“No one’s coming. I told the girls I needed to fix my makeup.” She walked over, hips swaying in that tiny skirt, and straddled your lap right there on the bench. Her hands cupped your face. “You’re too tense. Let me help.”
Before you could argue, she kissed you. It started sweet, like she was trying to calm you down, but it quickly turned hungry. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and you groaned, hands sliding under her skirt to grab her bare ass. No panties. Of course.
“Fuck, Yujin…”
“Shh. Just relax.” She ground against the growing bulge in your shorts, already wet against the fabric. “You’ve got a whole second half to turn this around. But first, I’m gonna boost that energy.”
She slid off your lap and dropped to her knees between your legs. In seconds she had your shorts and boxers down, your cock springing free. Yujin looked up at you with those pretty eyes and took you into her mouth, warm and eager. She sucked you deep, hollowing her cheeks, one hand stroking what she couldn’t fit. The sight of her in full cheerleader uniform blowing you in the locker room was insane.
You threaded your fingers through her ponytail, guiding her gently as she bobbed faster. The wet sounds mixed with your low groans. When you got close she pulled off with a pop, stroking you firmly.
“Not yet. I want you inside me.”
She stood up, turned around, and bent over the bench, flipping her skirt up. Her pussy was glistening. You stood behind her, rubbed your cock against her folds, then pushed in slowly. Yujin moaned, pushing back until you bottomed out.
“God, you’re so big tonight,” she whispered. “Fuck me hard. Use me.”
You gripped her hips and started thrusting, deep and fast. The sound of skin slapping echoed off the lockers. You reached around to rub her clit while you pounded into her, making her legs shake. Yujin bit her arm to muffle her moans, but it wasn’t working great.
“Harder—please. I can take it.”
You gave it to her, slamming in deep, spanking her ass lightly. She came fast like that, pussy clenching around your cock, a cute squeak escaping her lips.
You pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her onto the bench. She wrapped her legs around your waist as you slid back in, fucking her face-to-face now. Her cheer top was pushed up, tits bouncing with every thrust. You sucked on one nipple while pounding into her, the bench creaking under you.
Yujin’s nails dug into your shoulders. “You’re gonna win the second half. I know it. Just think about this—how good my pussy feels when you’re deep inside.”
Her dirty talk pushed you closer. You stood up fully, holding her against you as you fucked her standing. Her back pressed against the cold lockers while you drove up into her. The new angle made her moan louder, legs tightening around you.
“Cum inside me,” she gasped. “Fill me up before you go back out there.”
That did it. You buried yourself deep and came hard, pumping rope after rope of cum into her. Yujin trembled through another orgasm, kissing you sloppily as she milked you dry.
You stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard, her face tucked into your neck. Then she giggled softly.
“Better?” she asked, kissing your jaw.
“Way better.” You set her down carefully, watching your cum drip down her thigh. She grabbed a towel and cleaned up quick, straightening her uniform like nothing happened.
“Score some points for me, okay?” She gave you one last deep kiss, fixing your shorts for you. “I’ll be cheering extra loud. And if you win… we finish this properly after the game.”
Yujin slipped out the side door with a wink, leaving you standing there with renewed fire in your veins. When the team came back in, you were already lacing up your shoes, the frustration from the first half gone.
The second half was different. You came out aggressive, hitting shots you’d been missing, making plays that got the crowd roaring. Every time you looked over at the sidelines, Yujin was there—ponytail bouncing, smiling like she had the best secret in the world.
Final score? You won by six.
And after the game, you both knew exactly how the celebration was going to go.
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A few days later, Y/N steps into the kitchen and freezes.
J and Jiheon are already seated at the table, matching smiles painted across their faces. J’s legs are crossed high, her skirt riding up. Jiheon’s leaning forward, elbows on the wood, chin in her palms. They’ve been waiting.
“Morning, oppa,” Jiheon purrs.
Y/N can do nothing but grab a granola bar from the pantry. Don’t make eye contact. Don't make eye contact he keeps telling himself, the granola bar crinkles in his grip.
“You’ve been avoiding us,” J says, her voice a pout. “After everything we shared.”
She lets the last word hang. His jaw tightens.
“I have plans.” Y/N replies
Jiheon laughs, light and sharp. “Plans? With that Ahyeon girl? Please. She doesn’t know you like we do.”
He suddenly turns to face his step-sister “She knows enough. Don't you worry about her.”
J uncrosses her legs, stands, steps closer. Her hand lands on his chest, fingers playing with the collar of his blue shirt. “Does she know how you taste when you’re nervous? How your breath catches right before—”
Y/N steps back. Her hand falls.
“Enough of this. I’m leaving for school.”
And he's out the door before they can respond. The granola bar unopened in his pocket.
The sci-fi club meets every week in room 204, after last period. Poster of a nebula on the door. A dented model starship on the shelf. And Ahyeon, sitting at the back table, flipping through a worn paperback.
She looks up when Y/N walks in. Her hair is pulled back with a clip, loose strands framing her face. The afternoon light catches her cheekbones. She looks absolutely gorgeous.
“You’re early.” she says
He swallows trying to find a little bit of courage, his mouth starts to dry up.
“I need to ask you something.”
She closes the book. Sets it down. Her eyes are dark, patient, curious.
Y/N crosses the room and stops in front of her.
“I really like you Ahyeon-ah. Have liked you for a while. So will you go to prom with me?”
The words come out rougher than he had intended. Unrehearsed. Clearly he didn't think about what he was going to say if she laughed.
She doesn’t laugh.
A small smile spreads across her mouth. She stands. Now we’re close enough that I can smell her shampoo—something floral, clean.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she says. “Yes, of course i'll go to prom with you, Y/N.”
The air leaves his lungs. Relief. Joy. Something that feels like a punch.
He grins. She laughs. And then she kisses him, right there in the sci-fi club, her lips warm and sure.
The two become the talk of the school by Tuesday.
“You and Ahyeon? Seriously?” My friend Mark claps my shoulder in the hallway. “She’s out of your league, man.”
I don’t argue. She is.
We eat lunch together. She holds my hand under the table, thumb tracing circles on my palm. People stare. I don’t care.
She visits my house after school on Thursday.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I hear footsteps from the living room. J and Jiheon, summoned like bloodhounds.
Ahyeon’s hand is still in mine. I squeeze, a warning.
“So this is where you live,” she says, glancing around. “Cute. Cozy.”
J appears first, leaning against the archway. “Y/N, you didn’t tell us you were having company.”
Jiheon drifts in behind her, arms crossed. “We could’ve helped you prepare.”
The word helped drips with implication.
Ahyeon’s eyes flick between them. She doesn’t flinch.
“I’m sure you could,” she says, her voice sweet and sharp as a blade. “But I think I’ve got handling Y/N down.”
J’s smile tightens. “Oh, do you? He has particular tastes.”
Ahyeon tilts her head. Lets the silence stretch. Then she laughs, light and dismissive.
“Maybe. But I don’t share.”
She turns to me, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the stairs. “Your room. Now.”
I follow. Behind me, I hear Jiheon hiss something. J shushes her.
The door clicks shut. Ahyeon pushes me onto the bed, stands over me, her chest rising and falling.
“They’re trying to get under my skin,” she says, but she’s smiling. A dangerous smile.
“They’re jealous.”
“Good.” She climbs onto the bed, straddles my hips. Her skirt rides up. I can feel the heat of her thighs through my jeans.
“I’m going to give you something to remember,” she says, her voice low. “Something they can’t touch.”
Her hands find my belt buckle.
My head tips back as her mouth finds me. She’s slow at first, deliberate—a tease. Her tongue traces a line, circles, retreats. My fingers dig into the sheets.
Then she takes me deeper.
There’s a rhythm she sets, confident, hungry. She knows what she’s doing. Every flick of her tongue, every hollow of her cheek, is a statement.
I’m better. I’m the one.
I can’t help the sound that escapes my throat. A groan, low and ragged.
She pauses. Looks up at me, eyes glinting.
“Let them hear,” she whispers.
Then she resumes, faster now, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. The pleasure builds, tightens, coiling low in my gut.
I grip her hair. She moans around me, the vibration sending a shudder up my spine.
“Ahyeon—I’m close—”
She doubles down. No hesitation. No mercy.
I come with a gasp that turns into a long, shuddering exhalation. My body arches. She doesn’t pull away. Takes everything, holds still as the last pulse fades.
Then she lifts her head.
Her lips are slick. A trail of white runs from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. She doesn’t wipe it.
She smiles up at me, breathless and triumphant.
From somewhere downstairs, I hear a door slam.
They heard.
The house feels heavier after Ahyeon walks out the front door. J and Jiheon waste no time. They corner Y/N in the hallway, bodies pressed close, voices low and sticky with intent.
"She left you all worked up," J murmurs, fingers tracing the line of his shirt collar. "We saw how she looked at you. We can finish what she started."
Jiheon slides a hand down his chest, stopping just above his belt. "We won't stop at a lousy blowjob this time. We'll ride you until you forget her name. Both of us. At the same time."
Y/N steps back, jaw set. "I'm not interested. She's my girlfriend. That's it."
J laughs, but it cracks at the edges. "Come on, oppa. We know what you like. We can do things she never will."
He shakes his head, already turning away. "Nothing you say changes anything. I'm done with this."
They keep pushing for another minute, voices turning sharp, but he keeps walking until the door to his room shuts behind him. Their footsteps fade, leaving only silence.
Prom night arrives like a held breath. Y/N stands in front of the mirror in a fitted black tuxedo, the fabric sharp against his frame. The tie sits straight. His hair is combed back. He looks ready.
J and Jiheon wait in the living room wearing the sluttiest outfits they could assemble. J's top is a tiny black crop that barely covers the underside of her breasts, the fabric stretched thin enough to show the hard points of her nipples. Her shorts ride so high the lower curve of her ass cheeks peeks out with every step. Jiheon's version is even bolder: a sheer white tank top with no bra underneath, the material clinging to every curve, and cutoff denim shorts so short they function more like underwear. Both girls move with deliberate sway, hips rolling as they block the hallway.
"Don't go," J says, voice thick. She steps in close, pressing her chest against his arm. "Stay here. We'll make it worth it. You can fuck us all night. Any position you want."
Jiheon drops to her knees right there on the carpet, looking up with wide eyes. "We can start now. Pull your cock out and let us suck it together. We'll swallow every single drop."
Y/N sidesteps them without a word. He grabs his keys, checks his phone for Ahyeon's text, and heads for the door. Their calls follow him down the driveway, but he doesn't look back.
The prom venue glows under soft lights. Ahyeon waits near the entrance in a flowing red dress that hugs her waist and flares at the hips. When she sees him, her face lights up. They move inside together, hands linked.
They dance slowly to the music, bodies swaying in time. Her head rests on his shoulder. Friends from the sci-fi club wave them over between songs. They laugh, share stories, drink punch that tastes too sweet. The night stretches easy and warm. Y/N forgets everything else while Ahyeon stays close, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his palm.
Later, Ahyeon pulls him outside and whispers against his ear. "My parents are gone all week. Come home with me."
The drive back to Ahyeon’s house was a blur of electric tension, the air in the car thick with the scent of her perfume and the unspoken promise of what was to come. Every time she shifted in her seat, the red fabric of her dress brushed against Y/N, sending jolts of heat through him. By the time the engine cut out in the driveway, the silence was heavy, charged with a hunger that had been building all night.
The moment the front door clicked shut behind them, the pretense of patience vanished. Ahyeon turned to him, her eyes dark and dilated, shimmering with a predatory kind of desire. Without a word, she reached behind her back, the metallic slide of the zipper echoing in the quiet hallway. The red dress didn't just fall; it cascaded, sliding down the curves of her hips and pooling around her ankles in a shimmering heap of crimson silk.
She stood before him in a matching set of black lace—a bra that struggled to contain her breasts and panties that left very little to the imagination. She stepped into his space, the heat radiating off her skin. Her mouth crashed against his, her tongue sliding deep, tasting of lip gloss and longing. Her hands were frantic, working his jacket off his shoulders and then tearing at his shirt. A button popped, pinging off the wall, as she shoved the fabric aside to feel his bare chest.
Y/N groaned into the kiss, his hands finding the swell of her hips. Below, his cock was a rigid iron bar pressing against the denim of his pants. Ahyeon felt it; she let out a low, humming moan against his lips and reached down, palming him through the fabric. She squeezed him firmly, her fingers tracing the length and girth of him, making him gasp.
As they stumbled toward the bedroom, a sound drifted through the house. It was faint at first—a soft, breathy whimper—but as they entered the room, it became clear. The wall shared a boundary with Asa’s room, and the sounds filtering through were unmistakable.
"Ahh… fuck… right there… oh god…" Asa’s voice was a broken melody of pleasure, echoing through the drywall.
Y/N's dick twitches harder at the sound. He pictures Ahyeon's sister on the other side of the wall, two classmates stripping her down, hands on her tits, mouths on her neck. The image makes his balls tighten.
Ahyeon paused, a playful, wicked smirk crossing her lips. She didn't seem bothered; if anything, the sound of her sister’s ecstasy acted like an aphrodisiac. She pushed Y/N back onto the bed, crawling over him with a slow, sensual grace. She leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest, her nipples stiff and poking through the lace.
"Sounds like Asa is having a very busy night," Ahyeon whispered, her breath hot against his ear. She began to grind her hips against his lap, the friction of the lace against his pants driving him wild. "But I don't want to share. I want you all to myself."
She pushes him backward onto the bed. Her fingers make quick work of his belt. Pants and boxers hit the floor. His cock springs free, thick and veined, already leaking at the tip. She climbs on top, straddling his hips. One hand reaches between them, grips his shaft, and rubs the head along her soaked slit. She sinks down in one slow motion, pussy stretching around him until her ass meets his thighs.
"Ohhh fuck," she moans, voice loud and clear. "Your cock feels so good inside me."
She began to bounce, her tits jiggling violently in the lace bra. Hips roll in steady circles, then lift and drop. Each descent takes him deeper. Wet sounds fill the room as her pussy grips and slides along his length. "Ahh… ahh… yes… deeper… fuck me harder…", rhythm slow at first but as the sounds from the next room intensified, so did her pace.
Through the wall, Asa’s moans grew frantic, bordering on screams. "Yes! Fuck my pussy! Harder! Oh god, your cock is so big! I can't—ahh! Right there!"
The sound of Asa's pleasure pushed Ahyeon over the edge. She reached back, unhooking her bra with a quick snap and tossing it across the room. Her bare breasts swayed as she slammed her hips down harder, her pussy gripping Y/N with every descent.
Y/N grips her hips, thrusting up to meet her. His cock drives into her soaked heat again and again. The head nudges her cervix with every deep stroke. "Fuck, Ahyeon… your pussy is squeezing me so tight."
Ahyeon let out a loud, piercing moan, her eyes rolling back. "Ahhh! Yes! Right there! Pound my cunt! Make me scream louder than my sister!"
Next door, the audio shifted. The sounds of shifting bodies and heavy breathing indicated a change in position. Asa was now riding one classmate while a second pushed into her from behind. Her voice cracked, a mixture of shock and pure bliss.
"Ohhh shit! Both holes! You're stretching my ass so wide! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
The double penetration makes her scream. The classmate under her thrusts up into her pussy while the one behind grips her waist and drives into her ass. Skin slaps against skin. Wet squelching noises mix with her cries. "Ahhh! I'm so full! Don't stop! Cum inside me!"
Ahyeon hears every word. She rides Y/N even harder, ass slapping against his thighs. Her pussy clenches and flutters around his thick cock. "Listen to her getting double-teamed. Two cocks ruining her at once. But you're mine. This dick belongs to me."
She grinds down in tight circles, clit rubbing against his pubic bone. "Ahh… ahh… I'm getting close… your big cock is hitting so deep… fuck… fuck…"
Y/N's hands slide up to squeeze her tits. He pinches her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She moans louder. "Yes! Play with my tits while you fuck me!"
The race intensifies. Ahyeon slams down with everything she has, pussy dripping down his shaft and onto his balls. Each thrust makes obscene wet sounds. "Ahhh! Yes! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Cum with me!"
Next door, Asa is losing it. "Oh my god! I'm cumming! Both cocks are making me cum so hard! Ahhh! Fill my holes!"
Her screams peak, raw and desperate. The two classmates grunt and thrust harder, one flooding her pussy while the other pumps cum into her ass. Asa shakes between them, voice hoarse. "Yes! Yes! So much cum!"
Ahyeon hears her sister's orgasm and it pushes her over. She rides Y/N at a frantic pace, hips snapping. "Ahhh! I'm cumming! Your cock is making me cum!"
Her pussy spasms around him, walls pulsing and milking. Y/N groans, hips jerking up as he erupts inside her. Thick ropes of cum shoot deep, filling her until it leaks out around his shaft with every bounce. "Fuck… Ahyeon…"
She keeps moving through both their orgasms, slower now but still grinding, drawing every drop. "Mmm… so much cum… I can feel it pumping into me."
They stay locked together, breathing hard. Through the wall, Asa's moans soften into satisfied whimpers as the three of them collapse. Ahyeon leans down, kisses Y/N slow and deep, then whispers against his lips. "Best night ever."
Y/N holds her close, cock still twitching inside her soaked pussy. The sounds from next door fade, but the memory lingers, making the afterglow even sweeter. He strokes her back, content, completely hers.
Later that night as Y/N arrived home after giving his girlfriend a couple more orgasms, his relentless step-sisters were waiting for him by the kitchen table.
"So, how was she, Y/N?" Jiheon asks
"Was it everything you hoped for?" J sarcastically adds
"I'm not talking about this with my sisters. Plus it's none of your business. You should worry about your own boyfriend, Jiheon-ah." he says with a smirk knowingly
"What's that supposed to mean? she asks
"Oh, i don't know. Maybe the fact that i haven't seen him around in over a month." I'm sure you did something to upset him. Or did he think you were a bad fuck and left you for someone better?"
"What the fuck did you just say to me? Last week you were begging me to swallow your cum, now you've got a girlfriend and you suddenly think you're above it all?" Jiheon replies furiously as she gets up from the table, almost screaming at Y/N
"Maybe i did. Or maybe i just got tired of letting you two play games with me. All of this teasing and flirting after making fun of me for years for liking your older members. And now you're trying to fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to me." "If you care about me, then just stay the fuck out of my life." Y/N says as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room.
"Looks like little bro finally grew some balls." J says "What are we gonna do about this? We can't just let him walk away after everything that happened."
"Oh, he's not walking away i can promise you that. And since we can't just threaten to expose him to that slut girlfriend of his, we'll have to make it impossible for him to resist us." Jiheon replies
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Haewon has been standing beside your table for the better part of two minutes, pen hovering over her notepad, and you've spent that entire time explaining your love life to her instead of ordering anything.
"So that's the whole situation," you say, leaning back in your chair. "We haven't spoken in months. It's complicated. We weren't dating. We weren't exactly friends either, if I'm being honest about it. There was a thing, back in the fall. Sort of a fling, except that undersells it. A few days, just the two of us, and then we agreed to be friends, and then nothing. Silence. And now she's coming here, today, any minute, and I genuinely don't know how to play it. Do I keep it casual? Act cool? Or do I just put everything on the table and be direct? What do you think?”
Haewon stares at you, her pen tapping incessantly on the notepad. "Sir," she says, completely deadpan, "I'm just a barista.”
She's got a point.
You've been sitting here long enough to become part of the furniture, nursing a hangover instead of a cup of coffee. Haewon's already checked on you more than once, and judging by the look on her face, you've officially become the most annoying customer she's had all afternoon. She's short, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and her patience has clearly run out.
But she's not the only one having a bad day. As far as you're concerned, the coffee shop has somehow squeezed an entire sun inside four walls. It's probably just the hangover. The sky outside is dull and gray, the color of wet cement, yet every bit of light in here feels determined to split your skull open.
So you stay tucked away in the corner, dressed head to toe in black, one leg crossed beneath the tiny round table, sunglasses firmly planted on the bridge of your nose in a losing battle against the headache.
"I'm asking for your professional opinion..." You glance at her name tag. "Haewon.”
"My professional opinion is about coffee."
"You're in the service industry. You serve people. I'm a person. Serve me."
"You haven't ordered anything."
"I'm ordering advice."
"That's not on the menu either," Haewon fires back, then she shifts her weight to one foot and tucks the pen behind her ear. "Look, I don't know this girl. I don't know what kind of person she is. I don't know if she's the type who wants you to be upfront or the type who'll run if you come on too strong. I'm a barista. I make lattes. You either order a drink or you don't, those are the two options I can help you with."
"That's incredibly unhelpful."
"That's because you're asking the wrong person."
"Fine," you concede, waving a hand. "I'll wait for her to get here. It would be rude to start without her."
She rolls her eyes with enough force to threaten orbital escape, pivots on her heel, and disappears toward the counter, muttering something you're better off not hearing.
Alone again.
Your fingers begin tapping against the wooden tabletop. Index, middle, ring, pinky. Repeat. A pattern you can't seem to stop. The anxiety lives in your hands today, restless and electric, demanding an outlet you refuse to give it.
Four months had passed since you left the lake house. Four months since the two of you stood on your family's property, trapped by a storm and cut off from the rest of the world, sharing what felt like one of those impossibly cinematic moments people spend their whole lives chasing. Before you went your separate ways, you'd exchanged numbers and promised to get coffee someday.
It had seemed like such a simple commitment. Coffee. Two adults could manage coffee. Two adults who'd spent days peeling away each other's carefully built defenses, throwing mud across the shoreline and laughing until their stomachs hurt, then falling asleep in separate rooms while the rain battered the world outside.
For a while, everything unfolded exactly the way you'd hoped. You texted almost every day, never about anything particularly important. The kind of conversations that never seemed like work until, somehow, they did. Three days between messages became five. Five turned into ten. Eventually, there was nothing left but silence.
You didn't chase it. She's an idol, after all. Her life was finally beginning to resemble something normal again. SM released a statement about her recovery and her gradual return to activities, and every now and then you'd catch a clip of her smiling at an event, waving to cameras as though the worst had already passed. You convinced yourself that was enough. She looked happy. She looked healthy. Maybe you'd simply played your part in her story, and that chapter had ended exactly when it was supposed to.
The only problem with that explanation was that you never quite believed it.
Because no matter how much time passed, you never stopped thinking about her. Not for a single day. Not once in those four months.
And then last night happened. Three glasses of whiskey deep at your apartment, alone, staring stupidly at your phone. The drunk courage hit you all at once, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you typed: “So... is that coffee thing still happening, or were you just saying that to be nice?”
You hit send at 11:23 PM. For the next twenty minutes, you lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, utterly convinced you'd just made the most embarrassing mistake of your adult life. Every passing second without a reply only made the humiliation feel more inevitable.
Then your phone buzzed. Jimin had replied.
“It wasn't just talk. How about tomorrow? I know a place.”
As if nothing had happened. As if four months of nothing was simply a pause in a conversation, not an ending. She gave you an address. A time. And now you're here, dressed in black, wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day, asking a barista named Haewon how to act normal around a woman you cannot get out of your skull.
The door opens. Your stomach drops. But it's only a middle-aged man carrying an umbrella. False alarm. You sink back into your chair, let out a slow breath, and remind yourself that you're a grown man. A CEO. Someone who negotiates multi-million-dollar deals without breaking a sweat. This is just coffee.
Just coffee.
Two more minutes crawl by before the door swings open again. Your fingers, which have been drumming an anxious rhythm against the table, stop instantly. Your heart lurches as you look up.
This time, it's her.
She's wearing a knitted beanie pulled low over her forehead, her dark hair falling straight past her shoulders. An oversized cream-colored sweater hangs loosely over a pair of jeans, with a pair of white sneakers completing the outfit. It's as ordinary as it gets, yet she still manages to steal the air from your lungs. She looks exactly the way you remember her - exactly the way you haven't been able to stop remembering her.
Her eyes sweep across the coffee shop until they land on you. Almost instantly, her expression softens. She recognizes you, and for the briefest moment, you could swear she looks relieved.
Jimin walks over, pulls out the chair across from you, and sits down. After setting her bag beside her chair, she looks up and meets your eyes.
"Hi," she says, sounding warm despite her hesitation. Then her gaze shifts to your sunglasses. A small crease forms between her brows. "Did you become an idol too?" she asks with a quiet laugh, tapping the edge of her beanie. "Or is this some fashion trend I missed?"
"I'm hiding from the sun," you reply.
She turns to look out the window. The sky is a flat blanket of gray, thick with clouds that have been hanging overhead all morning.
"It's completely overcast," she says, glancing back at you. "I'm pretty sure it's going to rain."
"Well, it's the clearest overcast day I've ever seen," you say. "The UV index is off the charts.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. That slight pull that isn't quite a full smile but promises one if you keep going. You remember that expression. You spent three days at a lake house cataloging every version of it.
"You're ridiculous," she murmurs, leaning back in her chair a little more comfortably.
"And yet you still agreed to meet me."
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth before she gives the smallest nod. A simple gesture, but it carries the weight of four months of silence and one impulsive text sent just before midnight. Somehow, despite everything, she's here. And so are you. Two people who left something unfinished in a house by the water, now sitting across from each other in a quiet coffee shop, pretending the distance between then and now can be bridged with a cup of coffee.
"So," Jimin begins, folding her hands on the table. She tilts her head slightly to one side. "How are things? With the company. Last time we talked you were still in full crisis mode."
You lean back, rubbing the back of your neck. "Okay, so. Short version: we didn't go under. Which, you know, great. The fund recovered about sixty percent of what we lost, and we restructured the portfolio to be less, uh, insane. Less of me throwing darts at a board and hoping for the best."
"That sounds positive," she offers.
"It is. In theory." You pull your sunglasses off and set them on the table. "The problem is that my father decided to use the whole situation as an excuse to reassert himself. He brought in two of his people to sit on my board. Advisory capacity, officially. But in practice they have veto power over any acquisition above a certain threshold, and they report directly to him."
Jimin nods slowly, processing. "So he bailed you out."
"He provided liquidity when no one else would, yeah. And the price for that was me giving up a significant chunk of operational independence. I still run the day to day, I still make decisions, but anything major has to go through his people first. It's my company with his fingerprints all over it."
"Oh," she says, straightening slightly. "But that's good, isn't it? Overall? You're still there. You're still in charge. Mostly."
"Yeah." You tap the edge of the table once. "The best good I could get, given the circumstances."
A small pause settles between you. Comfortable enough, but loaded with everything else that sits beneath the surface of this reunion. You shift the focus before the silence can grow teeth.
"What about you?" you ask. "I've seen stuff, obviously. The Inkigayo stage last month. The Marie Claire cover. But I know better than to take anything at face value with that industry."
Jimin lets out a quiet breath, her gaze dropping to her hands for a moment before she looks back up. "I think I'm doing okay," she says. "Actually... I think I'm doing well." She holds your gaze, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. "I'm definitely in a better place than I was the night you found me sitting on that bench after midnight, having an existential crisis.”
"Good," you say, and you mean it completely. "I'm happy for you. Sincerely."
She opens her mouth, seems about to respond, but then a shadow falls across the table and you both look up to find Haewon standing there with her notepad, eyebrows raised.
"So," the barista says, clicking her pen. "Are we actually ordering now? Or is this still a therapy session?"
"We're ordering," you confirm. "Two coff—"
But Haewon isn't listening anymore. Her attention has drifted to Jimin, and you watch the exact moment recognition dawn on her. Her eyes widen. The pen slips in her fingers, nearly clattering onto the table. "Wait..." she says, blinking rapidly. "No way. Are you... are you Karina?! From aespa?! Oh my God!”
You lean forward before Jimin can get a word out. "No," you say with a laugh. "Absolutely not. Seriously, think about it. Why would Karina from aespa be hanging out in some tiny neighborhood coffee shop? Look at her. She's just... a completely normal girl. Normal face. Normal clothes. Probably smells normal too." Jimin slowly turns to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "I think you've just been working too many shifts. Sleep deprivation does weird things to the brain. People start seeing celebrities where there aren't any." You nod sympathetically. "Honestly, this place should be reported. But don't worry, I know a great labor lawyer."
Jimin lets out a quiet laugh. "It's okay," she says. "He's being weird. It is me."
You whip your head toward her. "Oh, so we're just giving up on the whole secret identity thing now?"
She shrugs. "I mean... she already recognized me. What was I supposed to do? Look her in the eye and say she imagined it?”
"Yes. That's the entire point of a disguise."
Haewon ignores you entirely, clutching her notepad to her chest. "Can I... would it be okay if I took a selfie with you? I'm so sorry, I know you're just trying to have coffee, but I've been a fan since Black Mamba and I will never forgive myself if I don't ask."
"Of course," Jimin agrees, already shifting in her seat to angle toward the barista.
You watch in disbelief as Haewon scurries around the table, crouches beside Jimin, holds up her phone, and snaps three photos in rapid succession. Jimin smiles in each one. That practiced, perfect, camera-ready smile you've seen a thousand times in press photos. Professional even in a moment this casual.
"Hang on," you interject as Haewon straightens up, practically glowing. "Are you telling me that if I'd opened with, 'By the way, the girl I'm meeting is Karina,' you would've actually answered my question?"
"Obviously yes," Haewon replies without hesitation. "You should have led with that. That's critical information you withheld."
"Unbelievable…” you mutter.
"Anyway." She slips her phone into her apron pocket, smooths out her notepad, and somehow transforms back into a perfectly professional barista in the span of two seconds. "What can I get you two? And don't worry about it - it's on the house."
"I'll have an iced Americano," you say.
Jimin glances at the menu for all of half a second before smiling. "A vanilla latte. Hot, please."
Haewon scribbles both drinks down with a grin. "I'll be right back."
As soon as she's out of earshot, you look across the table at Jimin. "Remind me not to tip her. She refused to help me for ten minutes," you say. "Then she found out who you are and suddenly we're getting free coffee. That's textbook discrimination."
"I don't think that's what discrimination means."
"It is when it happens to me."
"So you're jealous of my free latte?"
"I'm jealous of your preferential treatment."
"You do realize you're getting a free coffee too, right?"
You nod solemnly. "That's how they silence the victim.”
A soft and unguarded laugh escapes Jimin before she can hold it back, her shoulders giving the slightest shake as she ducks her head for a second. It's the kind of laugh that always feels earned. You remember chasing it for three straight days at the lake house, throwing out terrible jokes and increasingly desperate bits just to hear it one more time.
"Anyway," you continue, folding your arms on the table. "I've been thinking. Maybe we could do something together. Today. After this."
She raises an eyebrow. "You're not going to take me to another lake house, are you?"
"No. Kidnapping idols to isolated locations in the mountains isn't really fashionable anymore. I checked. I was thinking we could just, dunno, spend the day out here. Walk around. Find something to do. No agenda. No storm trapping us anywhere."
"That's the best you could come up with?" she asks, and there's a teasing quality there, a gentle prod.
"Well, you know me. I'm not exactly a master planner. That's how my company almost collapsed and how I ended up dragging you to a lake house during what turned out to be the worst storm in five years. Spontaneity is my only skill, and it has a fifty percent success rate at best."
Before Jimin can answer, Haewon returns with the drinks. She carefully sets your iced Americano in front of you, then places the vanilla latte in front of Jimin. And then… she just stands there. You give her three seconds. Then five. Finally, you look up and say:
"So... are you waiting for one of us to autograph the cups, or...?"
"Oh, I was just making sure everything looked okay."
"It does. Thanks." She doesn't move. You tilt your head. "Don't you have coffee to make? Customers to help? A coffee shop to run?"
Haewon glances around the shop. There are maybe three other people inside. "Not really. It's kind of dead right now."
"Great. Then you can be dead over there."
Haewon finally seems to realize she's lingering. "Right. Sorry." She rubs the back of her neck with an embarrassed smile. "Enjoy your drinks."
She heads back behind the counter, and before she's even halfway to the espresso machine, you catch her pulling out her phone. Within seconds, she's tapping away at the screen, undoubtedly posting something along the lines of: just served karina from aespa at work and somehow managed not to pass out. i deserve employee of the month.
Jimin watches her for a moment before looking back at you. "You know," she says, wrapping both hands around her latte, "you don't have to be so mean to her. She seems sweet."
"I wasn't mean.'' Jimin gives you a look. "Well, she started it..." you mumble, taking a sip of your Americano.
You regret it immediately. The coffee is genuinely awful. Watery and sour, with an aftertaste that suggests the beans have been sitting in storage since the last administration. You do your best to keep your face neutral, but apparently not well enough, because Jimin is watching you with a look of quiet amusement.
"You're not used to places like this, are you?" she asks.
"Look, the coffee is objectively bad," you tell her plainly. "Try it. You'll agree with me."
Jimin lifts her cup and takes a careful sip. She holds it in her mouth for a moment, swallows, and nods. "It's delicious.”
"What? It is not delicious!"
"It's really good, actually. I like it."
You take another sip, determined to reconsider your opinion. "Okay. Fine. It's not that bad. It has a... particular quality. An interesting aftertaste. Very unique."
"I know you hated it," Jimin says, amused. "You don't have to lie just because you want to agree with me.”
"I don't hate it. I'm appreciating its complexity."
“Sure. Whatever you say.” She smiles into her cup. You take another sip, and Jimin follows suit. Then she sets her cup down and looks at you a little differently, her expression turning more thoughtful as her attention settles fully on you.
"Can I ask you something?" she says.
"Anything."
"Seol Yoon-a," she says. "What happened there? Between you two. After everything."
You exhale slowly. You expected this question eventually. "When I got back from the lake house, I told her what happened. She and I had been on the rocks for a while already, you know that, but I think the lake house was the final confirmation for both of us that it wasn't going to work. So we ended it. For real, this time. No more back and forth."
Jimin nods, her eyes dropping to the table. "Looking back… I probably shouldn't have let myself get carried away that day. You and her were still technically—"
"We were already over," you cut in. "Technically, practically... in every way that mattered. We both knew it. You don't have to feel guilty about any of that." You turn the cup slowly between your hands. "You didn't break anything that wasn't already broken. And besides, she's with someone now. Some architect. She seems genuinely happy, which is good. She deserves that. I did nothing but hurt her from the beginning."
"Okay," Jimin says quietly. "Good for her, then.” She wraps both hands around her cup and looks at you again. "Can I ask you one more thing?"
"Go ahead."
"Why did you text me? Last night. After all this time."
"Honestly? I was drunk when I sent it. Three whiskeys in. Not exactly my most composed moment."
"I thought something was off with the typing," she admits, and the corner of her mouth quirks. "Some of the spelling was... creative."
"Yeah, well." You rub your jaw. "But I did want to come. I've wanted to text you for months. I just didn't have the nerve to actually do it. I kept telling myself you were busy, that you were getting your life back together, that the last thing you needed was me showing up in your notifications being, you know, Me."
"You would never bother me. I should be the one apologizing, really. I stopped responding and I didn't... I don't know. I was trying to get things back on track. Schedules started again, and everything kind of swallowed me up. But it wasn't because I didn't want to talk to you."
"I know," you say. "I get it. I didn't want to pressure you into anything."
She looks directly at you then, steady and open, and says, "I really wanted to see you again. I'm glad you texted. Even drunk."
You hold her gaze for a second longer than you probably should, and judging by the way the corner of her mouth lifts, she notices.
You look away before it becomes a whole thing. Then you lean back, pick up your terrible coffee, and raise it slightly in her direction.
"Anyway. We're here now. Let's enjoy it.”
Jimin looks at the cup, then at you, a laugh escaping her as she picks up her own. “To us?” she asks.
You clink your cups together. “To us.” And then you take a sip of your coffee.
Jimin sets her cup down and tilts her head at you. "Can I see your hand?"
"My hand?"
"The one you destroyed on that mirror," she clarifies, and gestures with her chin toward your right fist resting on the table.
Right. The scar. You'd almost forgotten about it, which is strange considering you spent weeks unable to close your fist without wincing. You extend your hand across the table, palm up, fingers uncurled. Jimin reaches forward and takes it lightly, turning it to examine the ridge of raised skin that cuts across your knuckles.
Her fingertip traces the line slowly. The contact is barely there, featherlight, and yet you feel it in your entire arm.
"It's almost imperceptible," she says, still looking down at your hand. "It healed really well."
"My mother always told me I have exceptional antibodies," you reply.
Jimin looks up at you, her finger still resting against your knuckle. "It's not exactly the antibodies that heal wounds."
"Show me your medical degree and then we'll talk."
She drops your hand and laughs, leaning back in her chair. "Some things really never change with you."
You flex your fingers under the table where she can't see, trying to shake the ghost of her touch from your skin. It doesn't work. "How much time do you have?" you ask. "Today, I mean. Before the idol machine swallows you back up."
Jimin considers this. "All day. And until noon tomorrow, actually. My schedule is clear."
"Until noon tomorrow," you repeat. "And would you rather spend that time with me, or doing something actually productive with your life?"
"I'd rather spend it with you," she answers simply.
The directness catches you off guard. You recover quickly, or at least you think you do. "Okay. Then we'd better make the most of every minute."
You both finish your coffee. Yours still tastes like death, but you drain the cup without complaint because complaining again would be admitting defeat. You push back from the table and reach for your sunglasses.
"Shall we?"
You stand, slide the glasses back onto your face, and wait while Jimin gathers her bag. She turns toward the counter on her way out.
"Thank you for the drinks," she tells Haewon. "That was really kind of you."
Haewon practically melts behind the register. "It was such a pleasure serving you. Please come back anytime! Seriously. Anytime. I'm here every day except Tuesdays."
"Noted," Jimin says warmly, and pushes through the door you're holding open.
The air outside is cool and damp, heavy with the promise of rain. Jimin adjusts her hat and falls into step beside you on the sidewalk.
"So where's your car?" she asks, scanning the curb.
"I actually came on foot."
"On foot?" She turns to look at you fully. "Why?"
"Well, that's kind of the point," you say. "Just wandering around. Going wherever. No real plan." You shove your hands into your pockets. "And I figured we could do something, you know..." You hesitate for half a second. "Romantic." Jimin's eyebrows shoot up. "No, not romantic romantic," you add quickly. "I just mean... something nice. Together. Like a date—" You wince. "Not a date. Fuck. Just... an experience.”
"Romantic and nice are completely different things," she points out.
"You're getting caught up in semantics. The point is—"
"They're not semantics. They're entirely separate concepts."
"The point," you press on, "is that I've never ridden a bus before. And I got one of those T-Money cards and I want to try it out. There's a cultural center somewhere nearby. With, you know, cultural things. Art, probably. Exhibitions. Whatever cultural centers have."
Jimin stops walking. "That's your romantic idea? Riding the bus?"
"You don't need to keep repeating it like that. With that tone."
"What tone?"
"That incredulous tone. That 'oh my god this man is hopeless' tone you're doing right now. Look, I should have known you'd be hard to please. Idol standards. Everything has to be first class, five star, exclusive—"
"I never said that—"
"I'm admitting something vulnerable here, okay? I was born into an absurd amount of wealth and I never had the opportunity to experience public transportation. It was always private cars. Always a driver waiting. Always tinted windows and leather seats... I don't like talking about it because it makes me emotional."
Jimin presses her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. "You're being ridiculous. Again.”
"I'm being honest. This is growth. And you're mocking me." You look around the street. "Now: where exactly does one catch a bus? Is it like a taxi situation? Do I stand on the curb and wave one down? Whistle?"
"Obviously not," she says, and she's fully smiling now. "You go to a bus stop."
"Right. A bus stop. And then from the bus stop I ride the bus to another place?"
"That's how it works, yes."
"That seems unnecessarily complicated."
"Welcome to how normal people live," Jimin replies, and points down the block toward the corner. "There's one right there."
You walk together to the stop. It's a covered shelter with a metal bench and a tall digital display panel mounted at one end. Several route numbers are listed vertically along the signboard, each color coded. Blue numbers for the main arterial routes that cut across the city in long straight lines. Green numbers for the shorter branch routes that feed into subway stations and neighborhood hubs. A few red numbers indicating express buses that run out toward Ilsan and Bundang.
The digital screen at the top cycles through real time arrival information. Route 7017, three minutes. Route 162, seven minutes. Route 7613, twelve minutes. Each entry updates every thirty seconds or so, counting down. You stare at it all with genuine fascination.
"So which one do we take?" you ask.
"Depends where you want to go. Each number is a different route. Different stops." Jimin steps closer to the posted map beneath the screen, a tangle of colored lines showing every stop along each route. "The cultural center, you said? That would probably be the 162. Gets off near Seodaemun."
"And when it arrives, I just get on? And put the card somewhere?"
"You tap it on the reader next to the driver when you board. And then you tap again when you get off. It charges based on distance."
"Tap on. Tap off. I can manage that."
"You say that now."
"I have an MBA. I think I can handle tapping a card."
Jimin doesn't say anything. She just looks at you. There's a quiet fondness in her eyes, patient and familiar in a way you've missed more than you realized. Four months is a long time to go without it. You stand together beneath the shelter, close enough that your shoulders almost brush. Above you, the digital display updates. Route 162. Five minutes.
You tilt your head back and glance up at the sky. Thick gray clouds hang low over the city, swollen and heavy, like they're about to burst.
"Okay, I think you were right," you say. "It's definitely going to rain."
Jimin follows your gaze. "Yeah. Looks like it."
A brief silence settles between you.
Then, almost to herself, she says, "It always seems to rain when we're together."
You turn to look at her. She's still staring up at the sky, her profile softened beneath the brim of her hat. “Is that a bad sign?” you ask.
She doesn’t answer right away.
She thinks about it for a moment. Then she lowers her gaze and meets yours. "No," she says. "I think it's just a coincidence."
"Yeah. Maybe,” you say, and neither of you looks back up at the sky.
The digital screen counts down. Route 162, one minute. You can see it already, turning the corner at the end of the block, a blue city bus lumbering toward the stop with its route number illuminated on the front display panel. As it approaches, slowing with a hiss of brakes, Jimin suddenly pats her pockets and her expression shifts.
"I don't have my T-money," she says, checking her bag. "Taking a bus today was not in my plans.”
"I'll pay for you," you say immediately. "I can do that, right? Pay for two people with one card?"
"Maybe. I think you tell the driver before you tap."
"Perfect. I've got it."
The bus pulls up and the front doors fold open with a pneumatic wheeze. You let Jimin board first, then step up after her. The driver is a middle aged man with reading glasses perched on his nose, barely glancing up from the road ahead.
"Two people," you announce, holding up your card and two fingers simultaneously.
The driver reaches over and presses a button on the fare machine without looking at you. The small screen on the reader changes to display a double fare amount. You tap your card against it. A short beep confirms the transaction, and the remaining balance flashes briefly on the screen. Done. You feel an absurd sense of accomplishment.
The bus lurches forward before you've fully committed to a direction, and you grab one of the overhead handles to steady yourself. Jimin is already halfway down the aisle, choosing a pair of empty seats near the middle. You follow and drop into the window seat she left for you. Or maybe she just took the aisle one first. Either way, you're here, shoulder to shoulder on a public bus for the first time in your entire existence.
Above the windows, a digital display scrolls through the upcoming stops in Korean and English. An automated announcement plays each time the bus approaches a station, naming the stop and reminding passengers to tap their cards when exiting through the rear doors.
Jimin settles her bag on her lap and turns to face you slightly. "So. Why were you drunk last night?"
"Just stressed," you say. "Long week. I had a few drinks and they turned into a few more."
"What happened?"
"Nothing specific. Just the general accumulation of everything." You shrug. "Board meeting ran late. One of my father's guys blocked an acquisition I'd been working on for three weeks. Standard frustration."
"Okay."
"It doesn't happen often, by the way. The drinking. I'm not an alcoholic. Well… not yet, at least. Give me another fiscal quarter."
She accepts this without pushing further, which you appreciate. Instead she shifts topics, looking around the bus interior with faint amusement. "So? What do you think? Your first public transit experience."
You consider the question seriously. "It's interesting. The communal aspect. Everyone just sitting here together, going different places, sharing the same vehicle. There's a certain efficiency to it that I can respect."
"High praise."
"Though I do think they could improve the service. Some snacks would be nice. Maybe a beverage cart. A small menu."
"It's a city bus, not a flight to Jeju."
"I'm just saying, the infrastructure is there. They have space." You stretch your legs as much as the seat in front of you allows. "But the company is pleasant. That makes up for the lack of refreshments."
Jimin's mouth curves slightly, and she looks down at her hands. "What other worldly experiences have you never had? What else is on the list?"
"Well," you begin, genuinely thinking about it. "I've never been to a supermarket. That's a big one. I imagine it's quite something. All those aisles. The variety. It must be exciting."
Jimin turns to stare at you. "How have you never been to a supermarket?”
"Never needed to. I pay someone. I don't even know who, honestly. There's some system in place and food just appears in my kitchen. It materializes on the shelves. I've never questioned it."
"The food you don't cook," she adds.
"Actually, I've been cooking. Occasionally. I'm getting better."
"What can you cook?"
"I made pizza last month. From scratch. Dough and everything."
"Was it good?"
"Well, I liked it. But I acknowledge my opinion might be biased since I spent four hours making it and was committed to enjoying the result regardless of the actual quality."
Jimin tilts her head. "I think I'd need to try it myself. Give you an unbiased verdict."
"I can cook for you whenever you want," you offer. "Seriously."
"Is that an invitation?" she asks, smiling.
“Maybe. Come over tonight. I’ll make you dinner.”
She lets out a short, surprised laugh. “I don't know whether to be excited or concerned about that.”
You bump your shoulder lightly against hers. "Hey, I've evolved. I'm almost positive you won't get food poisoning. Like... ninety percent sure."
"That's not reassuring."
"What's life without a little risk?" you say. "You've eaten street food before, haven't you? Same principle."
She shakes her head, though she's still smiling. "Fine. I'll trust you. But if I end up in the hospital, you're paying the bill."
"Obviously. I'll get you the nicest room they have. Private suite. Flowers every day."
"How generous."
"I'll even visit."
"Everyday?"
"Let's not get carried away."
She laughs, and the conversation settles into a comfortable quiet as the bus rolls through the next intersection. The digital display above the doors updates: three stops remaining until Seodaemun. Jimin glances up at it, quietly keeping track of the progress. Outside the window, Seoul slides past in its usual gray sprawl, storefronts, pedestrians, and traffic piling up at every red light.
"That's us next," she says after a few minutes, pointing to the display as it announces the upcoming stop.
"How do I tell it to stop?"
"Press the button." She indicates a red strip running along the handrail above the windows. "Before the stop. It signals the driver."
You reach up and press it. A chime sounds through the bus, and a small "stop requested" notification appears on the front display. The bus begins to slow. You follow Jimin toward the rear doors, tapping your card on the reader mounted by the exit. Two beeps. One for each of you. The doors open, and you step down onto the sidewalk.
You look around. It's a busy commercial street, shops and restaurants lining both sides, a few trees planted along the curb with their leaves going yellow at the edges. Autumn settling in slowly.
"Okay," you say. "Cultural center. Which direction?"
Jimin checks her phone briefly. "Should be that way. Two blocks."
You walk together, weaving between other pedestrians, until the two blocks pass and there's nothing that looks particularly cultural. You spot a woman walking a small dog and intercept her. "Excuse me, is there a cultural center around here? Seodaemun area?"
The woman points past your shoulder toward a building set back from the road. Modern architecture, glass facade, a banner hanging out front with exhibition information. "That's it there, but I think they close early on weekdays. Five o'clock."
You check your phone. 5:47.
"Thank you," you tell her, and she continues on with her dog.
Jimin is already looking at you with an expression you can only describe as deeply unsurprised.
"This," she begins, "is exactly what happens when you decide to go somewhere without planning anything in advance. You check hours. You look things up. You confirm that your destination is actually accessible before you—"
You place one finger against her lips.
"Shhh." She falls silent, her eyes widening slightly over the top of your finger. “I knew this was going to happen,” you say calmly. “I knew the cultural center would be closed. That was never the real destination. It was a decoy.”
“You didn’t know anything,” she mumbles against your finger.
You remove your finger and point across the street. Tucked between a laundromat and a fried chicken restaurant, there's a narrow storefront with a hand painted sign. Records stacked in the window. A warm amber glow from inside. A vinyl shop.
"That," you declare, "is where we're actually going. Much cooler than a cultural center."
Jimin follows your finger and spots the store. Then she looks back at you. "You had absolutely no idea that store existed."
"I kind of knew about it."
"You didn't."
"I've driven past this street before. I'm observant. I notice things."
"You're lying."
"You can't see my eyes behind these sunglasses, so you can't prove anything."
"I can't see them, but I know they're lying. You have tells."
"I don't have tells."
"You do. Your jaw gets tight when you're making something up."
You consciously relax your jaw. "Okay. Fine. I had no idea. But who cares? It's a find. A discovery. This is the entire philosophy of not planning anything. The world puts something in your path exactly when you need it."
"You're romanticizing the fact that you're disorganized."
"And it's working," you insist. "Ladies first."
Jimin shakes her head, giving you that soft, resigned smile she gets when you've finally argued her into submission. She adjusts her hat, looks both ways, and crosses the street. You follow a couple of steps behind, watching her move with her shoulders relaxed and her pace easy, as if they have nowhere else to be and nothing waiting for them.
The bell above the door jingles as you step inside. The record store opens up into a warm, cluttered space, all wooden shelving and dim yellow lighting, walls covered in faded concert posters and album art that spans decades. A turntable behind the counter is playing something old and crackling, some soul record from another era. A handful of customers browse the aisles, flipping through crates of vinyl with the reverent slowness of people who take this seriously.
Jimin pulls her hat a little lower and looks around the store with genuine interest. "So? What do you want to look at first? Rock? Jazz?" She glances at you. "Or are you going to pretend you know anything about music?"
"Give me a second." You scan the room. "Uh, quick question. What are the odds someone recognizes you in here?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. Depends. Why?"
You point toward the K-pop section. A large promotional poster for aespa hangs above a rack of albums. Jimin is front and center, caught mid-pose, her perfectly styled and airbrushed face looking out across the store.
The second she sees the poster, she turns away. "Okay," she says. "Point taken."
"Go browse."
"Excuse me?"
"Look at the records. I'll take care of something real quick."
"Take care of what?"
"Just go. Give me two minutes." She gives you a suspicious look, but eventually wanders off toward the far aisle without arguing. You watch her start flipping through a crate of city pop reissues before turning toward the counter.
The store attendant is sitting on a stool behind it, completely absorbed in her phone. Short hair tucked behind her ears, loose flannel shirt, the unmistakable expression of someone who would rather be anywhere else. Her thumbs move rapidly across the screen. Candy Crush, apparently.
You clear your throat and offer your most polished, boardroom-ready smile. "Hi there. Sorry to interrupt. I'm—"
"What do you want," she cuts in, not looking up.
"I wanted to introduce myself properly. What's your name?"
Without lifting her eyes from the game, she taps the plastic name tag pinned crookedly to her chest.
"Bae," you read aloud. "Great. Bae. So, listen, I've got a bit of a funny situation here."
"Dude, get to the point," she mutters, thumb swiping. "I'm busy."
You glance at her phone. “Right. Busy trying to beat your high score, huh?”
"You are testing the very limited amount of patience I have."
“Okay, okay. So... here's the deal.” You lean against the counter, trying to sound casual. “I need a favor. I need you to clear the store for, like, thirty minutes. Just get everyone out. Think you can do that?”
That finally gets her attention. Bae looks up from her phone, one eyebrow raised, then follows your subtle gesture toward Jimin, who's still browsing through the records with her back to you. “Me and her,” you explain, lowering your voice. “We just need a little privacy. You know? Some alone time. It's kind of... a delicate situation.”
Bae just stares at you for a moment.
Then her expression softens, and a slow, warm smile spreads across her face. “Sure,” she says sweetly. “Yeah, I can totally do that. Thirty minutes, right?”
Hope sparks in your chest. “Seriously? You'd do that for me?”
The smile disappears.
“Fuck no, dude. Are you out of your fucking mind? Who the hell do you think you are?”
You flinch. “Okay, okay, damn. It's just thirty minutes. The store's not gonna go bankrupt because it's closed for half an hour. Come on. Do the math.”
“I don't have time for this shit,” Bae says, setting her phone down. “What, you think this is some indie romance movie? You're gonna have your cute little moment in the middle of my record store, surrounded by vinyl, with the sunlight hitting just right? Get real. It's not happening.”
“I can't believe how rude you're being right now.” You sound genuinely offended. “Look, just because someone broke your heart once doesn't mean you have to become this bitter, anti-love person who goes around ruining other people's chances at having a beautiful, romantic moment—”
“Oh my god.” Bae pinches the bridge of her nose. “You are such a fucking weirdo. Seriously. Get out of my store before I call the cops on your creepy, sunglasses-inside-wearing ass.”
You hold up both hands. “Look, let me rephrase. What would it actually take? Like, what do you need to shut the place down for half an hour?”
Bae lets out a short laugh. “Oh, buddy. You'd need some serious cash for that.” She looks you up and down, taking in the all-black outfit, the sunglasses indoors, the whole deal. “And, uh... yeah. You look broke as hell. Sorry, man. Can't help you.”
“What if I paid for everything?” you say. “Every record in the store. I wouldn't even take them. I'd just pay you the full retail value of your entire inventory. Right now. Would that do it?”
Bae pauses. Considers. “Honestly? Yeah. That'd do it. Too bad you're not, like, Scrooge McDuck or some shit, huh, bro?” She waves you off and starts sliding off her stool. “Now scoot. I got actual customers to deal with.”
You step in front of her. “Wait! Hold on. Look at this.” You pull out your phone, open the browser, and type your name into the search bar. The results load. You tap the Wikipedia entry and turn the screen toward her.
Your name. Your face. Your family. The company. And the net worth figure journalists love throwing around.
Bae's eyes move across the screen. She reads. Then she slowly looks up at you. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” you say. “Turns out I have a little bit of money.”
Bae looks back at the screen.
“Holy actual shit.”
"So. How about you kindly dismiss all these customers and step outside for thirty minutes? And while you're out there, you can start thinking about what you'd like to do with the easiest money you've ever earned in your life."
The transformation is immediate and total. Bae straightens up, tucks her phone away, and beams at you with the radiant warmth of a saint.
"Say no more, sir. Please. Make yourself completely at home. Enjoy this beautiful, precious moment with your lovely girlfriend. The whole store is yours." She's already moving down the aisle, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, folks, sorry, we're closing up early! Store's shutting down for a bit. Take your stuff to the register or come back tomorrow, let's go, let's move, thank you!"
Customers grumble but begin filing toward the exit. Jimin, confused, sets down the record she was holding and starts drifting toward the door with everyone else.
"No, no, not you, honey," Bae calls, guiding her back with a hand. "You stay. You enjoy the store. Take your time."
Once the last customer is out, Bae passes close by you and leans in to murmur near your ear: "Hey. No sex in my store, got it?" She pauses, reconsiders. "You know what? Fuck it. Fine. You can have sex. Just try not to bust on the floor, yeah? These are hardwood. I gotta clean that."
"Nobody is going to have sex in here," you assure her firmly.
She shrugs. "Suit yourself, dude. Your loss." She heads for the door, then turns back with one finger raised. "Thirty minutes. Not thirty-one. I'm counting."
She practically skips out onto the sidewalk, thrilled, and flips the hanging sign in the window so it reads CLOSED before disappearing from view.
Jimin walks over, arms crossed, looking thoroughly confused. “Okay. What just happened? Where did everyone go?”
You spread your arms, gesturing at the now-empty shop, and say, “Looks like we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. For the next thirty minutes, anyway.”
Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?”
“Nothing dramatic. I just convinced the owner to let us have the place to ourselves for a little while. No crowds. No one bothering us.”
“Why would you do that?” She looks around at the empty aisles, her expression tightening. “There were people here. Actual customers.” A small, frustrated breath escapes her. “They were just having a normal day. They came in to browse, buy something, whatever. And now they’ve been asked to leave because you wanted the place to yourself for half an hour? You can’t just do that to people.”
“Technically, there still are customers here,” you point out. “Us. We’re customers. Very exclusive ones, by the way.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“The owner agreed to it.”
“You bribed her.”
“Bribe is such an ugly word. I offered her fair compensation for the inconvenience.”
“That's still a bribe.”
“Okay, but she accepted it willingly. Enthusiastically, even.”
"Don't do that again."
You frown. "Do what?"
"Don't use money to fix everything. Don't use it to get your way. And don't use it to impress me."
You hesitate. "I wasn't trying to impress you."
"Maybe not on purpose." Her voice softens. "But that's what it felt like."
"Come on, Jimin, it's just money," you insist. "I happen to have more of it than most people, but—"
"Stop it! You know exactly what I mean."
And you do. The joke dies before it makes it out. She isn’t playing around. There’s no teasing edge to her voice, no hint that she’s waiting for you to say something clever enough to make her laugh. She’s genuinely upset, watching you with that steady, unimpressed look.
And suddenly, you see what you’ve done. The thing that would have come across as generous - or charming, or impressive - to almost anyone else in your life has landed here as something else entirely. Jimin has spent years surrounded by excess. Sponsored trips. Luxury hotels. Free things. People making problems disappear with a phone call and a credit card. Money has always been everywhere around her, flowing so freely that it eventually became meaningless.
You'd assumed it would work the same way with her. That a grand gesture, if it was big enough, would be impressive.
But money doesn't impress Jimin. Not really. And when you use it to make the world bend around you, she doesn't see generosity.
She sees distance. She sees someone trying to buy their way into being liked.
"Okay," you say, and this time there's no joke behind it. "You're right. I'm sorry. I won't do that again. I promise.” She studies you a moment longer, then nods, satisfied that you actually mean it. "But," you add, glancing around the store, "since we do have the place to ourselves now, we might as well look around, don't you think?"
Jimin sighs, but the corner of her mouth softens. "Fine. Okay. Show me what you actually like to listen to."
"Good instinct," you say, heading toward the nearest crate. "The best way to figure out whether someone's worth the investment is by their taste in music. Everyone knows that."
You drift toward the far wall where the crates are organized by decade, running your fingers along the plastic dividers. Jimin follows a step behind, watching you with quiet curiosity. "So," she prompts, leaning her hip against the edge of the shelf. "What are we looking for?"
"Okay, so, full disclosure," you begin, pulling out a record at random and glancing at the cover before sliding it back. "Being a CEO means my entire life revolves around work. I don't have time to keep up with new releases, discover what's trending, any of that. The last time I actively sought out new music was probably university."
"So what do you listen to?"
"Whatever I grew up hearing. My parents had the stereo going constantly when I was a kid. My mom loved soul, my dad was into classic rock. So I basically inherited their entire catalogue." You move further down the row, scanning spines. "Seventies, eighties, nineties. R&B, mostly. After 7. Prince. Michael Jackson. Stevie Wonder. D’Angelo. Luther Vandross. That whole era."
Jimin nods slowly, filing this information. "I wouldn't have guessed that about you."
"What did you think I listened to? EDM? Tech house?"
"Honestly? I assumed you had some pretentious jazz phase you never grew out of."
"I do appreciate jazz. But I'm not pretentious about it."
"Mm. Debatable."
You pull a record from the crate and hold it up. The cover is instantly recognizable: SWV, all three of them posing together in that unmistakable '90s R&B style. “This one,” you say, tapping the cover. “I love SWV. They're so, so good.”
Jimin leans in to take a look, her eyebrows lifting. “I like them too.”
“Really?!”
“‘Rain’ is on my Spotify playlist.”
“It is?”
“The one linked to the aespa profile. It's public. Anyone can see it.”
“I had no idea.”
Jimin tilts her head. “I thought you were a fan.”
You shrug and slide the record back into place. “I'm a normal fan. Casual fan. I don't go digging through my favorite idol's playlists to see what she listens to in her free time. That's serial-killer behavior.” Jimin gives you a look, her lower lip pushing out in exaggerated offense. “Okay, okay, in your case—” you add quickly. “I actually do want to know what you're into. What you listen to, what you watch, all that stuff. But I'd rather hear it from you than find it buried in some algorithm-generated playlist. This is better, right? Finding out in person.”
“Nice save.”
“Thanks. Anyway, congratulations. You just earned some serious points with me. Being an SWV fan is basically a requirement if you want me to keep paying attention to you.”
She laughs brightly, then bumps her shoulder against yours, saying, “Wow. That's all I've ever wanted, your undivided attention. I'm so honored.”
"You should be.”
Shaking her head, she falls into step beside you as the two of you continue down the aisle, your fingertips gliding absently over rows of plastic record sleeves. The amber light in the store catches the dust floating in the air, and with no other customers, no background chatter, the space feels impossibly private. The turntable behind the counter is still spinning, though whatever was playing earlier has ended and now the needle just hisses softly in the run-out groove.
Your hand stops on a familiar cover. “Oh, no way...” You pull the record free and turn it toward her. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”
Jimin looks at the cover. Brownstone. Still Climbing. “I’ve heard of them,” she says. “But I don’t think I’ve ever actually listened to anything by them.”
“They’re a trio,” you explain. “Just three women, but somehow they sound like an entire choir. The harmonies are insane. It’s this huge, layered sound that really shouldn’t be possible with only three people.”
You turn the album over, scanning the track listing on the back.
“Still Climbing is great from start to finish, but my favorite is ‘Kiss and Tell.’ That song is perfect.”
“‘Kiss and Tell…’” Jimin repeats, trying the words out. “Hmm, I like the way it sounds.”
You nod. “Great title. Even better song. You should listen to it later. Actually listen to it, though. Don’t put it on in the background while you scroll through your phone and then tell me you liked it.”
Jimin rolls her eyes, but the faintest hint of amusement gives her away. “I promise I’ll give it my full attention.”
"Good. And if you ever use that title for an aespa song, or a solo, or whatever," you add, pointing at her, "don't forget to credit me for my collaborative consultation."
"I'll put you in the liner notes," she assures you solemnly. "Creative advisor."
You slide the Brownstone album back onto the shelf, and the two of you keep wandering through the aisles, pulling records almost at random. Every few minutes, one of you holds up an album with an enthusiastic, "Have you ever listened to this?" and the other either lights up or shakes their head. You spend the next several minutes playfully defending your own taste in music; yours rooted in R&B, soul, jazz, and classic rock, hers drifting toward polished pop and the unmistakable sound of the early 2000s. She insists you need to stop pretending catchy pop songs are beneath you. You insist she can't keep living without properly listening to Earth, Wind & Fire, Marvin Gaye, or Fleetwood Mac. Neither of you actually convinces the other, but that's hardly the point.
Every answer leads to another question, another recommendation, another story about when she first heard a song or why a certain album still reminds her of a particular moment in her life. You find yourself listening more than talking, hanging on every word without even realizing it. Somewhere along the way, browsing records stops being the activity. It becomes an excuse to learn who she is, one album at a time. Then your fingers brush against something that makes you pause. You slowly pull it free from the shelf. Foreigner 4. The cover is faded, the plastic sleeve warped with age, and you find yourself staring at it for a long moment.
"My dad's favorite band," you say quietly, your thumb brushing over the worn edge of the record sleeve. "These songs were always playing when I was growing up." A faint smile crosses your face. "They remind me of a time when life felt... simple. Back when I was genuinely happy.”
Jimin steps closer, looking at the album in your hands. "Do you have a favorite?"
"Yeah." You flip the record over and scan the track listing until you find it. You tap the title with your index finger. "Girl on the Moon."
"Girl on the Moon," she echoes softly.
"I've always loved this song," you say quietly, your thumb tracing the worn edge of the record sleeve. "Even when I was a kid, there was something about it that stuck with me." A small smile tugs at your lips before fading again. "I listened to it a few weeks ago... and all I could think about was you."
Jimin doesn't answer right away. The silence stretches between you, gentle rather than awkward, as the first raindrops begin to whisper against the shop's front windows. The world outside blurs into streaks of gray, but neither of you notices. Neither of you looks away.
"Why?" she asks at last.
You carefully slide the record back into its sleeve before resting it on the nearest crate. "Do you remember that cave?" you ask.
She nods almost immediately. "The one where we hid from the rain."
"Yeah."
A quiet smile crosses her face. "I remember."
"I told you something in there. About the first time I ever saw you. Sitting alone on that bench by the river."
"I remember that, too."
You rub the back of your neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I told you that you seemed... distant. Like you were somewhere nobody else could reach. But even then, there was something about you. Even when you looked completely lost, you still... stood out. I couldn't stop looking at you." Jimin stays perfectly still. "And after we left the lake house… I kept thinking about you. At some point, I realized that whatever I'd felt the first night... it hadn't gone away. If anything, it had only grown stronger."
Jimin studies your face in silence before asking, "Realized what?"
"That it was never just curiosity. It wasn't just concern, either." You pause, searching for words that somehow still feel too small for what you're trying to say. "Every time I looked at you, I felt the same thing."
"What thing?" she whispers.
For once, you don't reach for a joke. There's no sarcastic remark to soften the moment, no clever line to hide behind. Just the truth, standing between the two of you as the rain drums softly against the windows.
"I think..." You smile, a little embarrassed by how simple it sounds. "I think I found the girl I'd been dreaming about."
Jimin doesn't move, and whatever flickers across her face is impossible to name. It isn't surprise, and it isn't disbelief. It's quieter than either of those, carrying the weight of someone recognizing a truth they'd been circling for a long time. After a moment, she closes the distance between you. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches up and gently slides your sunglasses from your face. She folds them with absent care and sets them beside the Foreigner 4 record resting on the crate before looking back at you. Your eyes meet without anything left between them. Then her hand rises to your cheek.
Her thumb brushes gently beneath your cheekbone. She lingers there for a moment before asking, so softly her voice nearly disappears beneath the rain against the windows, "This is love, isn't it?"
You swallow, your hand rising to wrap around her wrist, holding it there against your face.
"I think it is. And I think that's why we were strangers who never became friends. We skipped that part. From the moment I met you, it was always something else. At least... that's the only way I've ever been able to make sense of it."
For a heartbeat, she simply looks at you.
Then she rises onto her toes, tilts her head, and closes the distance between you.
Her lips meet yours with a tenderness that leaves no room for doubt. You kiss her back instinctively, your hands settling at her waist over the soft knit of her sweater, drawing her a little closer. She smiles into the kiss for the briefest instant, and you catch the faint taste of vanilla beneath the coffee she'd insisted was "delicious." Her fingers slip from your cheek into your hair as she lets out a slow breath against your lips.
Outside, the rain grows heavier, filling the quiet record store with its steady rhythm. It drums against the windows, the awning above the entrance, the empty street beyond the glass.
You pull back just enough to speak, your forehead still touching hers. "Do you think it's a bad sign?" you murmur. "The rain."
Jimin opens her eyes, and they're so close you can see your own reflection in them. "Why would it be?"
"You know... rain in movies. It usually means something complicated."
A quiet laugh slips from her lips, warm and effortless, the kind that reaches her eyes before it ever becomes a sound.
"The happiest I've been in a long time happened in the middle of a storm," she says. "I was walking beside a man wearing the most ridiculous raincoat I'd ever seen."
You smile. She smiles back.
Then you kiss her again. This one is slower, lingering, neither of you in any hurry to let the other go. Your hands rest at her waist, feeling the soft knit of her sweater beneath your fingers, while hers remain tangled in your hair. For a little while, the rest of the world quietly slips away. There's only the warmth of her body against yours, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the rain whispering against the shop windows, turning the city outside into a watercolor of gray skies and amber lights.
When you finally pull away, it's only enough to look at her. Her lips are flushed from the kiss. Her beanie has slipped slightly to one side, knocked crooked somewhere along the way, and she hasn't made the slightest effort to fix it. She's still holding onto you, as if letting go hasn't occurred to her.
"Can I ask you something?" you say. She nods. "Do you... feel the same way?" You hadn't meant to sound so vulnerable, but the hope in your voice is impossible to hide.
Jimin lowers her gaze, a shy smile flickering across her face before she looks back up at you. "I've never fallen in love before," she says quietly. "Not really."
"Never?"
"I've had crushes. I've liked people. I've even convinced myself once or twice that it was love." A small laugh escapes her. "Looking back, I don't think it was. But this..." Her fingers absentmindedly smooth the fabric of your shirt. "I didn't know what to do with it. I couldn't tell if I was falling for you, or if I was just lonely after everything that happened. I kept thinking maybe I was confusing gratitude with something bigger. That maybe you finding me on that bench had gotten tangled up with my emotions… So I kept trying to reason my way out of it."
"And?"
She looks at you like the answer should be obvious. "...I'm standing in a record store, kissing the guy I was trying to forget." A grin spreads across your face. "So I'm guessing it didn't work." She lets out a quiet laugh and gives the tiniest shake of her head. "Not even a little.”
You brush a strand of hair back from her face. "You know what you'd be risking. Right? If this becomes something real. If people find out. Your career, your image, everything the company has invested in you—"
"I know," she interrupts gently. "I know exactly what I'd be risking. I've thought about it constantly. Every time I remembered your face I thought about it."
"Then I need you to hear me say this," you tell her, your hand coming up to cup her jaw. "I would never pressure you into that. Not once. If you needed to keep this quiet, if you needed to wait, if you needed us to disappear behind closed doors for the next three years, I would do it. Whatever this becomes, it moves at your pace. Not mine, not the industry's, not anyone else's."
"I don't want to hide."
"Jimin—"
"Listen to me." Her fingers curl tighter in the fabric of your shirt. "My entire career, I've felt like I wasn't the one steering. I woke up one day and I was Karina, and I couldn't tell you when that switch happened. Every choice I've made, or thought I made, was actually filtered through what I assumed everyone else needed from me. My members. My company. My fans. My parents. The girl on the poster in the corner of this store, she was built by committee. And I've been performing her ever since."
"I know."
"But today," she says, never looking away from you, "I get to make a choice that's actually mine. Not one made for me. Not one I talked myself into because it seemed easier or safer. Just... mine. And I'm choosing you. I'm choosing you today, and I want to choose you tomorrow, too. And the day after that, and every day that comes after if you'll let me. You're the person I want beside me."
Every clever reply abandons you. No joke comes to mind. No sarcasm rises to soften the weight of the moment. You can only stand there, looking at her as the rain hums against the windows.
After a long silence, you smile. "Do you remember what you told me in that cave?" you ask quietly. "You said you didn't know what you wanted anymore. You said you couldn't even figure out where to start looking."
"I remember."
You reach up and gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I think you found your answer."
She searches your face for a moment before the corners of her mouth lift into the smallest smile.
"I think I did." Jimin says. She rises onto her toes and kisses you again. You can feel her smiling against your lips before she pulls back just enough to whisper, "You helped me find it.”
The bell above the door jingles with enough force to make you both flinch apart. "Okay, lovebirds!" a familiar voice calls from the entrance. "Time's up. I've been standing outside for thirty minutes getting absolutely destroyed by this stupid rain. I look like I lost a fight with a swimming pool. Now... where's my money?" Bae stomps into the record store, shaking rainwater from her flannel before yanking a hand through her soaked hair.
You pull back from Jimin slowly, keeping one hand on her waist. "You know," you say, looking over at Bae, "you could've pretended to be a decent human being and given us another thirty seconds."
"I could've," Bae replies, peeling her soaked flannel away from her arm. "But then I'd have to live with myself." She gives the two of you a quick once-over. "So? Did you kiss?"
You and Jimin glance at each other.
"Maybe." you reply.
"Nice." She nods approvingly. "Did you have sex?"
"No," you and Jimin answer at the exact same time.
"Huh." Bae shrugs. "Whatever works for you two. Personally, I don't really get the whole 'confess your feelings first' thing, but hey, everyone's got their kinks."
"That's not a kink."
"It kind of is."
"It absolutely isn't."
Bae is already wandering toward the counter, waving a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Sure, romance boy. Keep telling yourself that." She looks back with a grin. "Now cough up my money.”
Before following, you reach over to the crate of records beside you, pick up your sunglasses, and hook them onto the collar of your shirt. Then you turn back to Jimin, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Wait here for me," you say. "I'll be right back.”
She nods, still slightly dazed, and drifts toward one of the crates while you follow Bae to the register. She's practically vibrating behind the counter now, pulling out a calculator, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she starts totaling up her inventory value in the system.
"Give me one sec, one sec," she mutters, punching numbers. "Okay. Okay. So. If we're going full retail on every unit, plus the imported stuff which is marked up because of shipping, plus the vintage collection in the back room which I definitely underpriced when I bought it but whatever, that's a me problem..."
She scribbles the final number on a Post-it note and slides it across the counter face down, like she's embarrassed by it. You flip it over. Glance at it. "That work for you?" she asks, her leg bouncing against the floor. "I can negotiate. I'm flexible. Extremely flexible! I have no spine whatsoever when it comes to money."
"It's fine," you say, pulling out your phone. You open the banking app and tap the transfer tab. "Account number?"
Bae rattles it off so fast you have to ask her to repeat it. She does, slower this time, watching your screen with the intensity of someone witnessing a miracle in progress. You punch in the amount, confirm the recipient name that pops up on screen, and hold your phone up for the Face ID verification. The little lock icon spins for a moment. Then the confirmation screen appears. Transfer complete.
Bae's phone buzzes in her back pocket. She pulls it out, glances at the notification... and goes completely still. Then she grabs the edge of the counter with both hands like the floor just tilted sideways.
She keeps staring at the screen.
"Oh my god. You're kidding." She refreshes the app. “What the hell.” Another refresh. "That's... that's actually my balance now.”
"Try to keep it together," you advise, pocketing your phone. "And Bae, one more thing: don't forget to report that to the NTS."
She looks up from her phone with an expression of pure, unbothered contempt for the suggestion. "Listen. The NTS does not need to know every single thing that happens in my personal life. That's between me, my bank account, and God.”
"Okay then. Suit yourself." You walk back over to Jimin, who has apparently been half watching this transaction with mild amusement.
She lifts an eyebrow at you. "Everything settled?"
"Everything settled. So, where are we going next?"
"That was your plan," she reminds you. "I'm just along for the ride."
"Okay. I've been thinking. Supermarket."
"Supermarket?"
"Yes. We're going to a supermarket. My first supermarket experience, remember? And I want to buy ingredients so I can make you that pizza tonight. Prove myself. Redeem my honor. Show you I've evolved beyond the man who couldn't make toast at the lake house."
Jimin laughs. "That's actually a good plan."
"See? I have those occasionally. Rare, but they occur."
She hooks her arm through yours as you head toward the door. Outside, the rain hasn't let up. If anything, it's coming down harder now, drumming against the awning and pooling along the curb where the drains can't keep up. You stop just short of the entrance and look at the small rack of umbrellas leaning near the door, ones the shop probably keeps around for customers or lost inventory.
You call over your shoulder. "Bae! Do you mind if we borrow a couple of these?"
From the back of the store, Bae yells back at full volume without hesitation. "Grab every single fucking umbrella in that stack, dude, they're yours, take the whole rack, take the awning, take the goddamn building, I don't care!"
"Thank you," you call back politely.
You select two. One with a wooden handle and a soft grey canopy that looks like it belongs to an old man's collection, and hand it to Jimin. The other is plain black. You push open the door and let her step out first under the shelter of the awning. She opens her umbrella with a soft flare, and you open yours a moment later.
Rain drums steadily against the awning overhead. The street beyond is nearly empty, with only the occasional car rolling past, its headlights smearing ribbons of gold across the rain-soaked pavement. Every reflection lingers a little longer in the water, stretching and shimmering before fading into the next. The whole city feels quieter somehow, as if the rain has wrapped it in a blanket, softening every sound and blurring the sharp edges of the world.
You glance over at Jimin beneath the oversized umbrella. Her beanie is pulled low over her forehead, and tiny dark patches stain the shoulders of her cream-colored sweater where the rain caught her before she had time to open it. She notices you looking and tips her head ever so slightly.
"What?"
You smile to yourself. "This feels familiar."
A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah," she says softly. Her eyes drift to the rain for a moment, following the water streaming down the shop windows before returning to yours. "It really does.”
The city turns blue as evening descends. You walk side by side, unhurried, umbrellas tilted toward each other so the edges almost overlap. Your free hand swings at your side. Hers does too. Neither of you reaches for the other yet, but the distance between your knuckles is very small.
Shops are closing around you. Metal shutters rolling down, neon signs switching off, the last few pedestrians hurrying past with their collars pulled up and their faces turned away from the wet. Seoul retreats into itself on evenings like this, drawing inward, and the streets empty until the only sound left is the rain and the occasional hiss of tires on pavement.
You spot the supermarket half a block ahead. A large chain store, brightly lit, its automatic doors sliding open and shut as customers filter in and out. The fluorescent glow from inside spills across the wet sidewalk.
"There," you say, gesturing with your chin. "My first supermarket."
"Try to contain your excitement," Jimin replies, smiling.
Inside, you both shake the rain from your umbrellas and leave them in the stand by the entrance. Cool, conditioned air washes over you the moment the automatic doors slide shut, carrying that unmistakable supermarket smell of fresh bread, produce, and industrial floor cleaner. After the muted gray of the afternoon outside, the bright fluorescent lights are almost blinding. The place seems to go on forever, aisle after aisle disappearing into the distance, shelves packed from floor to ceiling with every product imaginable. Fresh produce sits off to your left, the bakery to your right, and rows of refrigerated cases stretch along the back wall.
You reach for the nearest shopping cart and give it a tug. It doesn't budge. You frown and pull harder. Still nothing.
"This one's broken."
Jimin steps up beside you, wraps a hand around the handle, and pulls. The cart glides free without the slightest resistance.
She looks at you. You look back at her.
"Well, yeah," you say. "Of course it works now. I'd already loosened it for you.”
"Maybe I'm just stronger than you.”
You shrug. "Huh, good thing I have a thing for girls with lumberjack arms.”
Jimin stares at you for half a second before laughing. "Okay, funny guy, I'll guide you," she says, taking the lead, walking ahead of the cart while you follow. "First we need flour. Strong bread flour, not regular. The dough won't work otherwise."
"There are different kinds of flour?"
"Many different kinds."
"I just thought flour was flour."
"Welcome to cooking," she says, scanning the shelves and selecting a bag without hesitation. She drops it into the cart.
You push forward, trailing her through the baking aisle. Yeast. Olive oil. Sugar. Salt. She names each item and locates it with the efficiency of someone who has done this a thousand times. You watch her reach for things on high shelves, read the backs of packages, compare prices. Ordinary gestures. Nothing remarkable about any of them. And yet.
"This is kind of amazing, isn't it?" you say, pausing in the middle of the aisle.
Jimin turns. "Grocery shopping?"
"Yeah, but not just shopping. Doing it with someone." You push the cart forward slowly. "Going through these stupid aisles picking out food together. I think I might have discovered the meaning of life and it's incredibly mundane." She raises both eyebrows. "I'm serious. Ordinary things. Boring, everyday things. But doing them alongside someone you actually want to be with. That changes everything." You lean on the cart handle. "Maybe I should quit the CEO position. Get a normal job. Live a normal life. Do normal people things."
Jimin laughs, surprised out of her. "Okay, sure. What kind of job would you get?"
"I don't know. I could teach. Be a professor somewhere."
"You have zero patience for students."
"Fair point. What about, I could be a chef? Open a restaurant."
"You can barely make pizza."
Eu deixaria mais natural e com uma provocação mais afiada:
"A barista? I could do that."
"Eight hours a day, six days a week? You'd make it through, what, ten customers before taking off your apron and walking out?”
"You're being so unsupportive right now," you tell her, pushing the cart past the canned goods. "I'm trying to reinvent myself and you're crushing every option."
"I think you should keep being a CEO," Jimin concludes, selecting a can of San Marzano tomatoes. "You're good at it when you're not sabotaging yourself."
"See, I was expecting a little more encouragement from my new girlfriend," you say.
Jimin stops mid-step and turns to look at you, one eyebrow slowly arching. "Girlfriend?”
Heat rushes up the back of your neck. "I mean. From you. Whatever we are now. Whatever the correct terminology is for our current—"
"No, no," she cuts in, and there's a quiet delight in her expression that she doesn't even try to hide. "I'm just kidding. Girlfriend is fine."
You stare at her. "Yeah?"
"I think I could get used to you calling me that." She drops the tomatoes into the cart and keeps walking before you can see too much of her face. It doesn't help. Her cheeks are already turning pink.
"Wow… I'm really happy right now," you announce, pushing the cart after her. "I think I might actually enjoy grocery shopping."
Jimin glances back at you, amused. "Really? Just because of the shopping?"
"Of course. What else could it be? It's not like the most beautiful girl I've ever met just agreed to be my girlfriend or anything. Obviously, it's the grocery shopping. Look at all these Doritos flavors. They come up with a new one every day."
She shakes her head and turns back around, but you can see the smile she's trying - and failing - not to let get too big.
"Okay, then. Let's keep shopping." She pushes the cart forward, her voice quieter when she adds, "I like seeing you happy.”
You continue through the aisles. Jimin handles most of the actual decision-making because every time you try to contribute, something goes wrong. You pick up a jar of concentrated tomato paste and announce you've found the pizza sauce. Jimin takes it from your hand and puts it back, explaining that tomato paste and pizza sauce are entirely different things with different consistencies and flavor profiles, and that using paste would result in something barely edible. You pick up oregano when she asks for basil. You grab pre-shredded cheddar when she specifically said fresh mozzarella.
Eventually she bans you from selecting anything and assigns you the sole role of pushing the cart and looking pretty, which you accept with minimal protest. At checkout, the total comes to something laughably small compared to what you spent at Bae's record store, and you tap your card without comment. Then you grab all four bags before Jimin can reach for even one.
"I can carry some," she offers.
You tighten your grip on the bags and give her a solemn look. "Absolutely not. I'm a gentleman."
She looks at the four bags hanging from your hands. "You're carrying all of them?"
"Yes. Now stand back and let me be a man.” She shakes her head but lets you have it. You carry everything, bags cutting into your fingers, the weight pulling at your arms, and you don't complain once because some stubborn part of you refuses to let her carry a single thing tonight.
The bus back to your neighborhood is quiet. Only a handful of passengers, most of them absorbed in their phones or dozing against the windows. You sit together near the back, the grocery bags piled on the empty seat across the aisle. The rain continues outside, streaking down the bus windows in long rivulets that catch the passing city lights and scatter them into fragments of orange and white and red.
Jimin sits close to you. Her knee touches yours. The bus rumbles beneath you, gentle and constant. "So," you say softly. "What did you think of today?"
She considers. "It was pretty normal."
"I know. Next time, I'll plan something better. Something more exciting than taking public transit and buying groceries."
"No, that's not what I mean." Jimin looks out the window, watching the rain blur the city into streaks of light. "I really enjoyed today. All of it. I don't think you could have planned anything better."
You turn toward her. "You didn't?"
She shakes her head. "No. It was perfect."
You study her profile in the dim interior of the bus as the city passes outside. Streetlights move across her face in slow intervals, illuminating her for a moment before leaving her in shadow again. She looks tired, but not in a way that makes you worry. It's the kind of exhaustion that comes after a day spent feeling more than you're used to feeling, when happiness has finally begun to settle into the body and left you with nothing but the pleasant weight of it.
"It reminded me of a song," you say.
Jimin turns to you. "Yeah? Sing it for me."
"I'm not singing on a bus."
"There's barely anyone here."
"Still no."She gives you a look, then shifts closer until her shoulder brushes yours. A moment later, she rests her head against you, unhurried and entirely at ease. Her hair carries the faint smell of rain, with something sweet beneath it.
"Please," she murmurs. "Just for me. Quietly."
You glance around the bus. An elderly man is asleep near the front, while a university student sits a few rows ahead with earbuds in. No one is paying attention. No one in the world cares what happens in the back of this bus on a rainy Friday evening.
So you give in.
You lower your head slightly toward hers and hum the opening bars, so quietly the melody almost disappears beneath the rain against the windows. Then the words follow, just a murmur, "Just a perfect day," you sing, low and a little rough, "drink sangria in the park... and then later, when it gets dark, we go home." You pause, adjusting to the key, finding it. "Just a perfect day. Feed animals in the zoo. Then later, a movie too, and then home.” Jimin's hand finds yours on the seat between you. Her fingers slip between yours. "Oh, it's such a perfect day... I'm glad I spent it with you..."
She squeezes your hand and exhales slowly against your shoulder.
"That's beautiful," Jimin murmurs. "Whose is it?"
"Lou Reed. He was one of my mother's favorite artists." You look down at the grocery bags at your feet, at the basil peeking out. "She used to play it on Sunday mornings. I never understood the lyrics when I was little. I just knew she always went quiet when it came on. I'm going to memorize the whole thing. All the lyrics. And one day I'll sing it to you properly. All the way through. Standing up, even. Maybe with a guitar I can't play."
"I'm going to like that a lot," she says. Then, quieter, she adds, "You're going to make me fall in love with you a second time."
"That's the thing," you tell her. "I fall in love with you every time I see you.”
She looks at you. "Every time?"
"Every single time." You smile. "So you'd better get used to it.”
She doesn't say anything. She just tightens her grip on your hand, her fingers settling more firmly between yours until there's no space left between them. You stay like that for the rest of the ride, side by side in the back of a city bus, heading home through the rain and holding on to each other with the quiet certainty of people who have finally found something they were afraid they might never find - and are even more afraid of losing.
The rest of the journey passes in an easy silence. Jimin's head remains on your shoulder, her breathing slow and steady, her fingers loosely intertwined with yours. Outside the window, Seoul slips past in a blur of rain-slicked streets and smeared neon, the city glowing in the dark. You watch it go by without really taking any of it in, your mind drifting somewhere peaceful and distant; a rare feeling, and one you don't want to disturb.
You think about Yoon-a. Not with guilt or longing, but with a kind of clarity that only comes from distance. She never would have done this with you. A bus ride through the rain, grocery bags at your feet, no reservation at some overpriced restaurant, no event to attend. If you'd suggested spending a Friday evening riding public transit and shopping for pizza ingredients, she would have looked at you as though you'd lost your mind entirely. And maybe she wouldn't have been wrong. Maybe with her, it would have been wrong. Because what makes this feel right isn't the activity. It's the person beside you. The way Jimin fits into the ordinary spaces of your life without needing them to be anything more than what they are.
You glance down at her. Her eyes are closed. Her lips slightly parted. The exhaustion of the day settling into her body.
You squeeze her hand gently. "Hey."
She stirs. A slow blink, then a yawn she tries to cover with the back of her free hand.
"Sleepy?" you ask.
"Just a little," she murmurs, straightening up from your shoulder and rubbing one eye beneath her hat.
"My pizza will fix that. It's very energizing. You might not sleep at all tonight."
"I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
"You'll find out."
You both exit at the stop, tapping your card on the way out. The rain has softened to a fine mist now, barely enough to feel against your skin. You carry all four grocery bags in one hand, your closed umbrella tucked under the opposite arm, and Jimin walks beside you with her hands in the pockets of her sweater.
The walk takes about fifteen minutes. Through the quieter side streets of Cheongdam-dong, past closed boutiques and gated residences, the neighborhood growing progressively more still as you move away from the main road. Eventually you reach the building. Twenty stories of dark glass and clean architectural lines, set back from the street behind a manicured courtyard. A doorman in a grey uniform nods as you enter, holding the lobby door.
Inside, the elevator is private. Keyed access only. You press your thumb to the biometric reader and the doors slide closed, carrying you directly to the top floor.
The penthouse opens immediately from the elevator foyer. You step inside and the space unfolds around you. Six-meter ceilings in the main living area, floor-to-ceiling windows running the entire length of the south wall, framing the Han River below and the city beyond it in a panorama of wet light. The furniture is minimal and modern, dark tones against pale floors, everything precisely placed. Rain runs down the massive windows in thin streams, fragmenting the view into thousands of tiny shifting pieces.
"Home sweet home," you announce, carrying the bags to the kitchen island. You begin unpacking, separating items efficiently. Flour, yeast, and olive oil on the counter. Mozzarella, basil, and prosciutto into the refrigerator. Tomatoes beside the stove.
Behind you, Jimin moves slowly through the living room, taking everything in. Her fingers trail along the back of the sofa before she stops in front of the windows, gazing out at the river.
By the time you've finished putting everything away, she's still there, her back to you, the city reflected in the dark glass and in her eyes.
"So," you say, walking over. "Would you like the full tour? There's a lot to see. The gym is through that door, there's a study upstairs, and the master bathroom has this—"
Jimin turns. You barely have time to register the movement before she's kissing you.
The rest of the sentence disappears against her mouth. For half a second, you're too surprised to do anything but stand there. Then her hands catch the front of your shirt and fist in the fabric, pulling you toward her as she starts backing you up. You stumble, completely caught off guard, and the backs of your legs hit the sofa.
You drop onto the cushions. Jimin follows without breaking the kiss.
She climbs onto your lap, settling her knees on either side of your hips as her hands remain twisted in your shirt. There's nothing hesitant about the way she kisses you now. It's warm, insistent, and hungry enough to leave you struggling to remember what you were saying in the first place.
When she finally pulls back, you're left staring up at her, breathless. "So," you manage, "you don't want to see the penthouse?"
"No." She looks down at you, still gripping your shirt. "I've been in penthouses before. I don't care about the penthouse.”
"Okay. What about the pizza? That was kind of the whole reason we went to the supermarket in the first place—"
"I don't care about the pizza either."
She reaches up and pulls off her beanie, tossing it onto the sofa. Her hair, flattened from being tucked beneath it all day, springs loose around her face and spills over her shoulders. A few strands cling stubbornly to her cheeks before she brushes them away, and the sight of her like this catches you so completely off guard that your throat goes tight.
"You," she says, shifting more firmly into your lap, "are dinner tonight."
You laugh, though it comes out a little unsteady. The nerves and excitement are mixing together in a way that makes it difficult to pretend you're completely in control of yourself. "Okay. Wow." Jimin watches you, amused. "I think I need to put my glasses back on. There's a lot to take in right now, and I'm not sure my naked eyes can handle it.”
Jimin leans down and kisses you again, and you can feel her smile against your lips.
"Do you have any idea," she says between kisses, her mouth moving from your lips to the corner of your jaw, "how difficult today was for me? Walking around with you for hours. You being adorable and charming and handsome the entire time. And I couldn't touch you. I couldn't kiss you in public."
"I'll try to be less irresistible next time," you offer, your hands finding her hips, steadying her against you. "I'll wear something ugly. Maybe a bucket hat."
"Shut up," she murmurs, kissing your neck.
"If it helps," you say, and your breath catches when her teeth graze below your ear, "it was incredibly difficult for me too. I wanted to get on my knees in the middle of that coffee shop and beg you to be mine the second you walked through the door."
She pulls back to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are very dark and very focused. "Good. Then we're both pathetic."
"Symptoms of love," you reply, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "Cruel disease. No known cure."
"I like being sick with you," she says, and kisses you again.
This time it's slower. Her tongue slides against yours and you feel it through your entire body. Your hands move from her hips to her waist, then higher, fingertips finding the hem of her sweater. You pause there. Asking without asking. She doesn't pull away, doesn't stiffen, and so you gather the fabric in your hands and draw it upward. She lifts her arms to let you pull it over her head.
Her skin underneath is pale and smooth, faintly flushed across her collarbones and chest. Her breasts are full and round, held in a simple white bra with thin straps, nothing elaborate, nothing performative. Just her body in front of you, offered without pretense.
"You're staring," she observes.
"They're right there," you say, your gaze tracing the curve of her cleavage, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. "Directly in my line of sight. I'm physically incapable of looking anywhere else."
"Good." Jimin shifts off your lap, and for a moment you think she's pulling away. But then she's lowering herself to the floor, kneeling between your parted legs, her hair falling forward over her bare shoulders. She settles there, looking up at you, and her hands come to rest on your thighs. They slide upward, slowly, until her fingers reach your belt.
"Okay," she says, and her thumbs trace along the waistband of your pants. "I have something for you."
Your stomach tightens. You watch her hands, then her face, then her hands again. She's looking at you steadily, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes holding yours with an intensity that makes your pulse hammer against the inside of your wrists.
"Can I?" she asks.
"Do the honors," you tell her.
Her fingers work at the button of your pants with a steady confidence that makes your stomach clench. She pops it open, pulls down the zipper, and tugs the fabric over your hips. You lift slightly off the couch to help her, and she drags everything down to your thighs in one smooth motion. Your cock strains against the thin fabric of your underwear, visibly hard, the outline of it pressing against the cotton.
Jimin pauses. Looks up at you from between your legs, her dark hair falling forward over her bare shoulders.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Yeah," you manage. Your hands are gripping the couch cushion on either side of you. "There's just a lot happening at once. Sensory overload."
"Do you not want to?"
You let out a short, breathless laugh. "There is no universe in existence where I don't want this. Not a single timeline. Not one."
That mischievous smile returns. The one you saw briefly in the record store when she teased you, except now it carries an entirely different weight. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls down slowly. Your cock springs free, thick and flushed, curving slightly upward against your stomach.
Jimin wraps her hand around you. Her fingers are cool against the heat of your skin, and you feel your thighs tense at the contact. She holds you there for a moment, not moving, just feeling the weight of you in her palm.
"I thought about the first time for so many nights," she says, looking at your cock in her hand, her thumb tracing along the underside. "After the lake house. When I was alone in my apartment trying to pretend everything was fine. I kept coming back to it. The way you felt. The way you sounded."
"Jimin—"
"I could never forget it," she continues, her grip tightening just slightly. "Even when I told myself I should."
She leans forward and lets a long string of spit fall from her lips onto the head of your cock. It lands warm and thick, trailing down your shaft, and she follows it with her fist, spreading the slickness along your entire length. The wet sound it makes when she strokes fills the quiet of the penthouse. She spits again, lower this time, letting the saliva coat you thoroughly until her hand glides without any friction, her palm slick and tight around you.
"Do you know what I'm going to do?" she asks, looking up at you through her lashes. Her hand keeps moving, slow strokes that send heat pooling in your lower stomach.
"If I had to guess," you say, and your throat feels tight, "I'd say you're about to give me the best titjob of my life."
"That's exactly right," she confirms, and releases your cock just long enough to straighten up on her knees.
She doesn't remove the bra. Instead, she positions herself higher between your legs, leans forward, and takes your cock in one hand, guiding it between the swell of her breasts. The white fabric of the bra presses her tits together, creating a tight channel, and when she settles your shaft between them the pressure is immediate and constant. The bra does most of the work, holding her breasts snug around you, the soft skin warm and yielding against both sides of your cock.
Then she moves. Jimin rolls her body upward, dragging her chest along your length, and the sensation makes your head drop back against the couch. The underside of your cock slides against the smooth skin between her breasts, the head pushing up through the top of her cleavage before she drops back down and repeats the motion. Up and down, slow and controlled, her tits wrapped tight around you.
"Fuck," you breathe, staring down at the sight of it. Your cock disappearing between her breasts, reappearing at the top glistening with spit, then sliding back down into that warm pressure. The white bra framing everything, her pale skin flushed pink across her chest.
Jimin spits again, letting it drip down her chin and onto her cleavage. It runs between her tits and coats your shaft, making the slide wetter, smoother. The friction drops away and now she's gliding on you, her breasts slippery and hot, and every time she pushes up the head of your cock pokes through the top of her cleavage, flushed and swollen.
"Is this good?" she asks, and she's watching your face, reading every reaction.
"You have no idea," you tell her, barely recognizing the strained quality of your own speech. "You have absolutely no idea what you look like right now."
"Tell me."
"Fucking perfect," you say. "Your tits around my cock. The way you're looking at me right now. I'm trying to burn this into my memory permanently."
She moves faster. Her rhythm finding something steady and purposeful, her whole upper body rocking as she works your cock between her breasts. The saliva makes everything obscene, glistening across her skin, smeared along the inside curves of her tits where they press against your shaft. You can see the wet streaks catching the ambient light from the windows, the rain-glow of the city painting her skin in soft silvers and blues.
"You're so hard," she murmurs, and there's genuine pleasure in her expression, a satisfaction at what she's doing to you. "I can feel you throbbing between my tits. Do you like being squeezed like this?"
"I like everything you do," you admit, and one of your hands moves to her hair, brushing it back from her face so you can see her properly. "Every single thing. But this is going to ruin me for anyone else."
"Good," she says simply, and presses her breasts tighter together with her hands, adding to the compression the bra already provides. Your cock is buried in her now, surrounded on all sides by soft, slick flesh, and when she picks up the pace your hips twitch involuntarily, pushing up to meet her movements.
"Stay still," she orders, pressing one hand flat against your hip. "Let me do this."
"Yes ma'am."
She laughs softly, her rhythm never breaking. "You're much more obedient than I expected."
"You've got my cock between your tits. I'd agree to basically anything right now."
"I'll remember that."
"Please don't."
She leans forward slightly, changing the angle, and now when she pushes up your cock drags along the full length of her cleavage, the head catching briefly on the upper edge of her bra before slipping through. The fabric is damp now, darkened with spit, and the contrast between the soft cotton and her bare skin creates a texture that makes your toes curl against the floor.
"You're leaking," she observes, looking down at where the tip of your cock emerges from her chest. A bead of precum glistens at the slit, mixing with the saliva already coating you. "I barely started and you're already dripping for me."
"That's your fault," you manage. "Completely your fault."
"Good. I want to make a mess of you."
She works you for another minute, then slows to a stop with your cock still nestled between her breasts. She looks up at you, holding your gaze, and reaches behind her back. You hear the small click of the clasp, and then the bra loosens. She shrugs the straps off her shoulders and lets it fall away.
Her breasts are bare now, no longer held in place by the bra. They settle naturally against her chest, full and heavy, shifting with their own soft weight whenever she moves. Her nipples are hard, small, and pink, the skin around them slightly puckered from arousal. They look even fuller than you remember, rounder than the bra had suggested, and the sight of them leaves you staring for a moment longer than you mean to.
"There you go," she says, straightening her shoulders. "All yours."
You don't have anything clever to say. You just look at her, kneeling between your legs, topless, hair spilling over her bare shoulders, her skin shining with the remnants of her own spit, and you think distantly that if the world ended right now you wouldn't have a single complaint about how your life turned out.
Jimin takes your cock in her hand again, strokes it twice to spread the wetness, and then lifts her breasts with both hands, guiding them around your shaft. Without the bra, the sensation changes completely. Softer. Fuller. Her bare tits envelope you, the warm skin pressing flush against you from all sides, and she has to hold them together manually now, her fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as she squeezes them around your length.
"Better?" she asks.
"Infinitely better," you breathe, watching her bare breasts swallow your cock, the head pushing through the top of her cleavage each time she moves.
She picks up the pace. Her hands press her bare breasts together tighter around your shaft, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, and her whole upper body rocks with a steady rhythm that sends waves of heat rolling up through your stomach. A thin sheen of sweat begins to form across her chest, collecting in the hollow of her throat, glistening along the inner curves of her tits where the skin is pressed together around you.
"Look at me," she says.
You do. Your eyes drop from the ceiling back down to her face and she holds your gaze without breaking it, her pupils blown wide, her lips parted slightly. She smiles. Just a hint. Just the corner of her mouth pulling up, like she can read exactly how good this feels written all over your face and it satisfies something deep in her.
"You remember the lake house?" she asks, still moving, still working you between her breasts with that relentless rhythm. "When you put your mouth on me."
"I remember," you murmur.
"Your tongue," she continues, squeezing her tits tighter, "and then your fingers inside me. I came so hard I thought I was going to black out. You remember that?"
"Every second of it."
"I think about it all the time." She pushes up, your cock sliding through the slick channel of her cleavage, the head emerging flushed and wet before she drops back down. "When I'm alone at night. When I can't sleep. I think about your fingers curling inside me and your mouth sucking my clit and the way you looked at me while you were doing it. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered."
"You were," you tell her, and your hand finds her hair again, threading through it. "You are."
"I wanted to return that," she says. "I wanted to make you feel the way you made me feel. I've been thinking about it for four months. What I'd do to you if I ever got you alone again."
"And this is what you came up with?"
"This is just the beginning." She grins, and it's wicked, genuinely wicked, and your cock throbs between her tits in response. She feels it. "There it is. You liked hearing that."
"Everything you say right now is doing something to me."
"Then I'm going to keep talking until you can't think about anything else.”
She increases her speed. Her breasts bounce slightly with each movement, the weight of them shifting as she rocks forward and back. Sweat trickles down between them, mixing with the saliva already coating you, making everything wetter, hotter, more frictionless. Your cock glides through her cleavage like it was made for this, the head pushing through the top of her tits each time, glistening and swollen.
Jimin doesn't look away from you. Those dark eyes fixed on yours, reading every twitch, every sharp inhale, every time your jaw clenches. And she smiles each time she catches you slipping, each time your composure cracks a little more.
"You're getting close," she observes.
"Yeah," you admit. Your thighs are tight, your stomach is coiled, and every nerve in your body is funneling toward the point where her breasts squeeze around your shaft. "You keep looking at me like that and I'm going to lose it."
"That's what I want. I'm going to make you cum all over my tits." She says it plainly, like something already decided. "I want to feel it. I want to see it on my skin."
"Jimin—"
"Give it to me," she says, pressing her breasts together until the pressure is almost too much, her pace relentless now, her whole body committed to the movement. "I've been thinking about this for months. Cum on my breasts. I want you to make a mess of me."
Your hips push up involuntarily, fighting the urge to fuck up into her cleavage, and she lets you, accommodating the movement, maintaining that tight channel around you even as your thrusts become erratic and uncontrolled.
"Come on," she coaxes, looking up at you with that knowing half-smile. "Let go. I can feel how close you are. You're throbbing between my tits. Give me what I want."
"Keep talking," you manage, barely.
"I want your cum all over me," she says, squeezing harder, moving faster. "I want to feel it hot on my skin. I want to watch it drip down my tits. Cum for me, babe. Right now. Let me have it."
That's what breaks you. The orgasm tears through you from the base of your spine outward, and you groan through clenched teeth as the first thick rope of cum shoots up through her cleavage and lands across the top of her left breast. She doesn't stop. Her hands keep pressing, keep milking, pulling each wave out of you as you pulse between her tits. More spills over her skin, white and hot, pooling in the valley between her breasts, dripping down the inner curves where her flesh is pressed together. She strokes you through all of it, squeezing rhythmically, coaxing every last drop from your cock until you're shuddering and oversensitive and gripping the couch cushion hard enough to ache.
"There you go," she murmurs, still holding you between her breasts, still moving gently, slowly now. "All of it. Give me every drop."
You twitch one final time, a last weak pulse of cum leaking from the tip and sliding down your shaft into her cleavage. Your chest is heaving. Your entire body feels wrung out, every muscle trembling with the aftershock.
Jimin finally releases you. She leans back on her heels and looks down at herself. Her breasts are covered. Thick streaks of cum across both tits, pooled in the center of her chest, dripping slowly down toward her stomach. She lifts one hand and spreads it with her fingertips, rubbing your cum into her skin in slow circles, coating her nipples with it until they glisten.
"You made a mess," she says, looking up at you with something between satisfaction and hunger.
"You asked for it."
"I did," she agrees. "And I'd ask for it again."
Your cock hasn't softened. It stands between you, still hard, still flushed, wet with spit and cum. Jimin notices. Her eyes flick down and then back up to your face, and something shifts in her expression. Something hungrier. More urgent.
She stands. Her hands go to the waistband of her pants and she unbuttons them without ceremony, pushing them down over her hips along with her underwear in one motion. She steps out of them, kicking them aside, and she's naked in front of you. Completely. Every inch of her exposed, her body lean and soft in all the right places, her thighs pressing together slightly, the dark strip between her legs barely visible.
You reach for the zipper of your jacket first, shrugging it off your shoulders and tossing it aside. Then you grab the hem of your long-sleeved shirt and pull it up over your head. The fabric catches briefly, and for a moment, the world goes dark.
When your vision clears, Jimin is already there - already moving, already climbing back onto you. She settles on your lap, skin against skin now, nothing between you. Her breasts press against your bare chest, still slick with your cum, and the warmth of her is everywhere. Her mouth finds yours immediately, kissing you deep and slow, her tongue sliding against yours while her hips settle against you. You feel the wet heat of her against the underside of your cock, her pussy pressed flush along your shaft without taking you in, and when she shifts her hips slightly the slickness of her arousal smears against you and you both exhale into each other's mouths.
"I need you," she breathes against your lips.
Her hand reaches between your bodies. Her fingers wrap around your cock, angling it downward, and you feel the head press against the entrance of her pussy. Hot and wet and yielding. She holds you there, right at the edge, not yet pushing down, her forehead touching yours, her breath mixing with yours in the narrow space between your mouths.
"I need you too," you tell her, and your hands settle on her hips.
Jimin holds your cock at her entrance for one more breath, her fingers gripping the base. Then she sinks down. So slow you feel every fraction of it. The head of your cock pressing past her opening, the tight heat of her yielding around you inch by inch, swallowing you deeper until her thighs are flush against yours and you're buried completely inside her. She lets out a long exhale through parted lips, her eyes falling closed, her free hand bracing against your chest.
She sits there on your lap, full of you, and you can feel her adjusting. The way her walls grip and release, grip and release, her body accommodating your size. Her fingers spread across your sternum, pressing lightly.
"Stay still," she murmurs, eyes still closed. "Let me feel you." You obey. Your hands rest on her waist, thumbs tracing small circles against her hip bones, and you watch her face. The concentration there. The way her brow furrows slightly, then smooths as the tension melts away. "You're bigger than I remembered," she says, and opens her eyes to look down at you. Something raw and honest in her expression.
"Is it okay?"
"It's perfect." She shifts her weight forward slightly, testing. "You fill me up completely."
Then she moves. A slow roll of her hips, barely lifting off you, just grinding forward and back with your cock buried deep inside her. The motion is unhurried, almost lazy, and the sensation spreads through your lower body like something molten. She finds a rhythm quickly. Rocking on you, her hips tracing a slow circle, the wet heat of her clenching around your shaft with each forward press.
Jimin's body above you is almost too much to process. The length of her torso, lean and pale, her stomach flexing with each undulation. Her breasts swaying slightly with the movement, heavy and still streaked with the drying remnants of your cum. The faint sheen of sweat beginning at her collarbones. The way her dark hair falls around her face and over her shoulders.
"I missed this," she says, picking up the pace just slightly, rising higher on her knees before sinking back down. "Being like this with you. Having you inside me."
"I missed it too," you respond, and your grip on her waist tightens. Not guiding her, not controlling her movement, just holding. Feeling the flex of her muscles beneath the skin as she rides you. "Feeling you. Your warmth. The sounds you make."
"It only took one time," she continues, her breath growing shorter as she finds a deeper angle, dropping her hips down harder on the downstroke. "One time and I knew. I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about your cock. About how you felt inside me that night."
"Jimin—"
"I tried to get over it." She leans forward, changing the angle, and her breasts press against your chest as she rolls her hips. Her mouth hovers near your ear. "I tried to tell myself it was just physical. Just bodies. Just the adrenaline of being alone together in that house during a storm. But it wasn't."
"It wasn't," you agree, and your hands slide from her waist down to her ass, palming both cheeks, feeling the muscles tense and release as she works herself on you.
She straightens up again, sitting tall on your lap, and increases her pace. Rising until just the tip of your cock remains inside her, then dropping back down, taking you to the hilt. Each time she bottoms out her thighs press against yours and a small, involuntary sound escapes her throat. Her hands move to your shoulders, gripping for leverage, and she uses the hold to ride you harder.
"You feel so good," she says, almost accusatory. "Every time I sink down on you it's like the first time. That stretch. The way you reach so deep inside me."
You squeeze her breasts. Your palms cover them fully, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, the remnants of your cum making them slippery. Her nipples are hard against your palms and she arches into your touch, pushing her chest forward.
"Touch me like that," she tells you. "Squeeze them harder. They're still covered in you. I can feel it."
You obey. Kneading her tits firmly, watching the way the flesh spills between your fingers, the white streaks of dried cum cracking and smearing as you work them. She rides you faster in response, her rhythm growing more urgent, her hips snapping down against you with increasing force.
"Four months," she breathes, and her nails dig into your shoulders. "Four months I spent lying in bed thinking about the way you fucked me at the lake house. The way you put my legs over your shoulders and pushed so deep I thought I could feel you in my stomach."
"I thought about you too." Your hands return to her hips, gripping the bone. "Every night. Your pussy around me. How tight you were. How wet you got when I touched you."
"I'm so wet right now," she confirms, and you can hear it. The slick sound of her sliding up and down your shaft, her arousal coating you, making everything frictionless and obscene. "Can you feel how wet I am for you? That's what you do to me. Just being inside me makes me drip."
"I can feel everything," you tell her. "Every time you clench around me. Every time you squeeze."
Jimin smiles down at you. That same knowing smile from before, the one that says she can see exactly what she's doing to you and enjoys it. She plants both palms flat on your chest and uses the leverage to fuck you with purpose, her ass lifting and dropping in a steady, driving rhythm. Her breasts bounce with each impact, heavy and beautiful, and you can't decide whether to watch them or watch her face so your eyes travel between both, greedy and overwhelmed.
"Tell me how my pussy feels," she demands, breathless now, her composure starting to fray at the edges. "Tell me what it's like being inside me."
"Tight," you say immediately. "Hot. So wet I can barely think straight. Every time you come down on me it's like you're trying to pull me deeper. Your body wants me as badly as you do."
"My body is obsessed with you," she admits, her pace faltering for a moment before she catches herself and resumes. "My brain spent four months trying to be rational and my body was screaming for you the entire time."
You sit up slightly, closing the distance between your chests, and capture her mouth in a kiss. She moans into it, never stopping her hips, riding you through the kiss with a desperation that's building toward something inevitable. Her arms wrap around your neck and she clings to you, her forehead pressing against yours when the kiss breaks.
"I'm yours," she whispers against your mouth. "This body is yours. My pussy is yours. Everything."
Her rhythm is becoming erratic now. Less controlled, more frantic, her hips stuttering as she chases something building inside her. You can feel it in the way her walls tighten around you, fluttering, gripping harder with each downstroke. Her thighs are trembling against yours.
"Are you close?" you ask, holding her face in your hands, making her look at you.
"Yes," she gasps, grinding down hard on your lap. "Almost there. I'm so close. Don't stop touching me."
You kiss her mouth. Her jaw. The side of her neck, tasting salt and sweat. Her collarbone. Everything you can reach, pressing your lips to every inch of skin available to you while she shakes apart above you.
"I'm going to make you cum," you tell her against her throat. "Right now."
You wrap both arms around her waist and lift. She gasps, clinging to you, her legs wrapping around your hips as you pivot and lay her down on the sofa beneath you. Her back hits the cushion, her dark hair fanning out around her head, and you settle above her. Between her thighs. Your cock still buried inside her, the angle changed now, deeper from this position.
You plant one knee against the cushion for leverage, one foot on the floor, and look down at her. Flushed. Breathless. Her breasts splayed and glistening. Her eyes locked on yours with an urgency that borders on pleading.
"Don't make me wait," she says.
You pull your hips back and push into her. Deep and full, burying yourself to the hilt in one slow, complete stroke. Jimin's back arches off the cushion, her fingers gripping the edge of the sofa above her head, and her mouth falls open in a silent exhale. You hold there for a moment, pressed flush against her, feeling the tight clench of her pussy around your cock. Then you pull back and thrust again. Harder this time.
A rhythm builds from the start. Steady and purposeful, each stroke driving deep inside her, your hips snapping forward with a force that moves her body on the cushion. Her breasts bounce with every impact, heavy and slick, still painted with the evidence of your earlier orgasm. The sight of them moving, shaking each time you fuck into her, is enough to make your grip on her thighs tighten until the skin blanches white under your fingers.
"Yeah," Jimin breathes, looking up at you with those dark, blown-out eyes. "Fuck me, babe. Fuck your girlfriend."
That word. Girlfriend. It hits somewhere deep in your chest and travels straight down to your cock, and your next thrust is rougher, more urgent. Something possessive ignites in you, something greedy and overwhelming, and you lean over her, planting one hand beside her head while the other grips her hip, pulling her into each stroke.
"Say that again," you tell her.
"Your girlfriend," she repeats, her breath hitching as you bottom out inside her. "I'm your girlfriend and you're fucking me on your couch and I don't want you to stop."
"I'm not stopping," you promise, picking up the pace. "Not until you're shaking."
Her legs wrap around your waist, heels pressing into the small of your back, pulling you deeper on every downstroke. You can feel the wet heat of her everywhere, her arousal coating your shaft, smearing against your pelvis each time your bodies meet. The sound of it fills the room, slick and rhythmic, underscored by the soft creak of the sofa beneath you.
"You feel incredible," you tell her, watching her face twist with pleasure as you hit a spot inside her that makes her nails drag down your forearm. "Your pussy is so tight around me. Every time I push in, you grip me like you never want me to leave."
"I don't," she gasps. "I never want you to pull out. I want to feel you this deep all the time."
You fuck her harder. Your hips find a punishing pace, driving into her with the full weight of your body, and her breasts shake with every thrust, the flesh rippling. She reaches up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling your face down to hers, and kisses you wet and desperate between broken moans.
"You're so deep," she pants against your mouth. "I can feel you in my stomach. Every single inch of you stretching me open."
"Take all of it," you respond, grinding your hips in a circle when you bottom out, making her squirm beneath you. "Every inch is yours. This cock belongs to you now."
"It better," she says, and even breathless and flushed and falling apart, there's something commanding in her tone. Something that reminds you she's not just receiving this. She's claiming it.
Your hand moves between your bodies. Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and slick, and you press against it in small, tight circles without breaking your rhythm. The effect is immediate. Jimin's entire body jerks, her thighs clamping tight around you, her back bowing off the cushion.
"Oh fuck," she chokes out. "Right there. Don't move your hand."
You keep the pressure steady, rubbing her clit while you fuck her, and watch her composure dissolve completely. Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat. Her hands grip the cushion above her so hard her knuckles go white. Her stomach muscles clench and release in rapid succession, and her pussy tightens around you in pulses that make your jaw clench.
"You're falling apart," you observe, rubbing faster. "I can feel it. Your whole body is shaking for me."
"Because you're ruining me," she manages, her hips bucking up to meet yours. "Your cock and your fingers at the same time, I can't think, I can't—"
"Don't think. Just feel it."
Her moans grow louder. Less controlled. Raw sounds that fill the penthouse and bounce off the floor-to-ceiling windows, mixing with the sound of the rain still falling outside. Her pussy is gripping you so tight now that each thrust requires effort, pushing through the resistance of her walls clenching around your shaft.
"You're going to make me cum," she tells you, and there's something almost helpless about it. "I'm so close. Your dick is so deep and your thumb on my clit and I can't hold it. You're going to make me cum so hard."
"Then cum on my dick," you tell her. "Let me feel it. I want to feel your pussy squeeze me when you lose it. Cum for me, Jimin."
You give her the final thrusts. Deep, relentless strokes that push all the way inside her and stay there, grinding against her cervix while your thumb works her clit without mercy. One. Two. Three more and then you bury yourself to the hilt and hold, pressed as deep as her body will allow.
Jimin shatters. Her eyes roll back, her mouth opening in a soundless cry that finally breaks into a long, shuddering moan. Her pussy clamps down on your cock in rhythmic waves, squeezing and releasing, milking you while her entire body trembles beneath you. Her thighs lock around your waist so tight you couldn't pull away if you wanted to.
You fuck her slowly through it. Shallow, gentle strokes that draw out each aftershock, making her twitch and gasp with every movement. Her orgasm seems to last forever, rolling through her in diminishing waves until she's boneless and panting on the cushion beneath you, her grip finally loosening, her legs sliding off your waist.
"Oh my god," she whispers, covering her face with both hands. "Oh my god…"
You lean down and kiss her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her jaw. She's trembling still, small involuntary shivers running through her limbs.
"You're beautiful when you cum," you murmur against her skin. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
She laughs weakly, still hiding behind her hands. "I think you broke something inside me."
You stay inside her for another moment, feeling the last flutters of her orgasm around your cock. Then you ease back slightly, and the urgency in your own body reasserts itself. You're close. The tightness in your stomach has been building since she started clenching around you.
"I'm close," you admit. "Where do you want me?"
Jimin drops her hands from her face. Her eyes find yours, still hazy with the aftermath but sharpening with intent. "My mouth," she says. "Pull out and give it to me."
You withdraw from her slowly, your cock sliding free slick and hard and aching. Jimin is already moving before you can stand, rolling off the couch and dropping to her knees on the floor between your legs. You rise from the sofa and stand in front of her, and she looks up at you from below, her hair mussed and tangled, her body flushed and glistening, her lips parting as she reaches for you.
Her mouth closes around the head of your cock and the warmth of it makes your knees buckle slightly. She takes you deeper, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of your shaft, and sucks with a slow, firm pressure that pulls a groan from somewhere deep in your chest.
She pulls off briefly, her hand stroking you, and looks up. "You taste good," she says, licking her lips. "Your cock tastes so good."
"That's because it tastes like you," you tell her.
Something soft crosses her face. Amused and pleased and genuinely touched all at once. She shakes her head slightly. "Don't be romantic while I have your dick in my mouth," she says. "That's not fair. You can't make me feel things in my chest while I'm trying to make you cum."
"I can do both, actually. I'm multifaceted."
"Shut up," she says, and takes you back into her mouth.
She sucks you with purpose now. Her cheeks hollow around your shaft, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head each time she pulls back, her hand working the base in tandem with her lips. The wet suction of her mouth, hot and tight, combined with the visual of her on her knees looking up at you through her lashes is more than you can take.
Your hand moves to her hair. Not pushing, not guiding, just resting there. Feeling the silk of it between your fingers while she bobs her head on your cock. She takes you deeper with each pass, her throat relaxing to accommodate you, and the sound she makes when you hit the back of her mouth is devastating.
"I'm going to cum," you warn her, your thighs tensing. "Jimin, I'm—"
She doesn't pull off. She sucks harder. Her hand tightens around the base of your cock and her mouth works you with renewed intensity, her head moving faster, cheeks hollowed, tongue pressing and stroking with every pass. She moans around you and the vibration of it against your shaft is what finishes you.
You cum in her mouth. The orgasm rips through you and you grip her hair involuntarily as the first pulse hits the back of her throat. Your cock throbs between her lips, emptying into her, and even though you already came once tonight there's so much. Thick ropes flooding her mouth, and she takes all of it without flinching. You can see her throat working. Swallowing. Taking each wave as it comes while her hand strokes you through it, milking your shaft from base to tip, coaxing everything out of you.
Your knees threaten to give. You brace one hand on the back of the couch and try to stay standing while she drains you completely, her lips sealed tight around your cock, not letting a single drop escape.
When the last pulse fades and you're left shaking and oversensitive, she finally pulls off slowly. A thin string of saliva connects her lower lip to the head of your cock before it breaks. She's still holding you in her hand, her fingers wrapped gently around your shaft.
She opens her mouth. Sticks out her tongue. Clean. Empty. She swallowed everything.
"Not a single drop wasted," she says, looking up at you with a smug little smile, clearly pleased with herself.
Then she leans forward and presses a soft, closed-mouth kiss to the tip of your cock - gentle and almost reverent.
You extend your hand down to her. She takes it and you pull her to her feet, her body rising in front of you until you're face to face. Naked. Flushed. Both of you breathing hard and covered in a thin layer of sweat. You reach up and tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, smoothing it away from her face.
Jimin tilts her head slightly, a lazy smile forming. "Looks like we burned through our stamina pretty quickly, huh?"
"Don't even joke," you say, shaking your head. "I genuinely don't know what to do with myself right now. I think my brain stopped working."
"Maybe a shower," she suggests. "And then the pizza. Those seem like logical next steps."
"Right. Shower. Pizza. Normal activities. I can handle that." You place your hand on her lower back, her skin warm and damp beneath your palm, and guide her toward the hallway. "Maybe now I can actually give you the tour. The bathroom is this way. Just try not to ambush me with surprise kisses in the meantime."
Jimin glances over her shoulder at you as she walks ahead, that quiet mischief in her expression that you're beginning to recognize as specifically and uniquely dangerous. "I can't guarantee anything," she says.
—
The shower took longer than it probably needed to, mostly because every time you reached for a towel, Jimin found some reason to pull you back under the water. The pizza, despite your modest expectations, turned out genuinely good. The crust was crisp around the edges, the cheese properly melted, and the basil had been distributed with what you considered professional-level restraint. Jimin ate three slices before finally admitting that you might actually know what you were doing.
You pretended not to be ridiculously pleased by that.
Now she sits on your kitchen counter, legs crossed, wearing nothing but one of your shirts. The fabric hangs past her thighs, the sleeves swallowed her hands entirely until she rolled them up. Her hair is still damp, darker than usual, falling loose around her face. Steam rises from the mug you just handed her.
She lifts it to her nose and breathes in the aroma. Then she looks at you over the rim.
"Wow. First pizza, now tea. You're really making progress today."
"Told you I'm practically a chef now," you reply, leaning against the counter beside her with your own mug. "And for the record, if you stay for lunch tomorrow, I can cook you anything you want. Anything. Just name it."
Jimin takes a slow sip. "Take it easy. You managed one pizza. That doesn't mean you can suddenly make any dish in existence."
"Of course I can. Every dish is fundamentally the same process. The ingredients change, the preparation method changes, the cooking time changes. But the core principle is identical. Heat, timing, seasoning. Once you understand the system, the specifics are trivial."
Jimin narrows her eyes. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Trying to bait me."
You give her an innocent look. "Why would I do that?"
"Because you want me to start arguing about cooking theory so we can sit here debating it until midnight."
"Is it working?"
She gives you a look. "No."
"Seems like it is.”
Jimin smiles into her tea and takes another sip. For a while, neither of you speaks. The rain continues outside, softer now than before, a steady hush against the windows. The kitchen is dim, lit only by the under-cabinet lights and the grey glow of the city filtering through the glass.
You turn your mug slowly in your hands. Then you set it down on the counter.
"So," you begin. "Maybe we should think about how things are going to work from now on. You and me. The practical side of it."
Jimin lowers her mug slightly. "Are you worried?"
"I'm worried about you."
"You don't need to worry about me," she says, calm and even. "I know how to take care of myself."
"I know that. I do. But that's not what I mean." You turn to face her, leaning your hip against the counter. "I don't want your life to become more complicated because of me. You just got back on your feet. Your group is active again, your schedule is filling up, the company is watching everything you do. And now there's me in the middle of it. I just think maybe you should talk to the others first, before we—"
"I'll talk to them," she cuts in, firm but gentle. "Minjeong, Ning, Aeri. I'll sit them down and tell them myself. But I already know how they'll react. They'll support me. They've seen me at my worst, they carried me through it. They'll be happy I found something that makes me want to stay standing."
You nod slowly. "Okay."
"And listen to me." She sets her mug down beside her on the counter and turns her whole body toward you. "I don't want to be weak again. I don't want to be afraid of living my own life. What's the point of everything I went through if I come out the other side just as scared as before? I don't want to end up on that bench again at two in the morning, feeling that I'm not enough, not knowing who I am or what I'm supposed to want. I did that already. I'm not going back."
"Jimin—"
"And I don't want to run off to your lake house again either," she continues. "I was happy there. Genuinely happy, maybe the happiest I'd been in years. But you and I both know what that place was. A temporary refuge. A borrowed life. We played house for three days while the world waited outside, and it was beautiful, and it wasn't real." She reaches out and takes your hand. "I want to feel here what I felt there. In this city. In my real life. Being me. Karina on the stage, Jimin in this kitchen, both of them at the same time. I want to live the life I actually want to live. And that life is being an idol and being your girl. Both. Together." She squeezes your hand. "I don't think I'm asking for too much. Am I?"
You look at her. Sitting on your counter in your shirt, damp hair, bare legs, her eyes steady and unflinching. The girl from the bench, except she isn't anymore. That girl was disappearing. This one has decided to exist.
"No," you answer. "Of course not. You have every right to want to be happy. You have every right to want everything."
"Then we don't need to be afraid," she says. "Either of us."
You step between her knees and wrap your arms around her, and she folds into you immediately, her arms circling your back, her cheek pressing against your chest. You rest your chin on the top of her head. Her hair smells of your shampoo, and there's something about that small domestic detail that nearly undoes you completely.
"I'm not saying it's going to be easy," she murmurs against your shirt. "There will be days when the schedule is brutal and we won't see each other for weeks. There will be rumors. There will be pressure from every direction. I know all of that."
"I know."
"But I also know it will be worth it." She pulls back just enough to look up at you. "That night. On the bench. After you left." Her gaze drifts somewhere past your shoulder, back across four months and a river and a version of herself she barely survived. "I sat there for a long time after you walked away. And I remember thinking, maybe today wasn't so bad after all. I met a kind stranger. He shared his chips with me. He listened to me complain about things he couldn't possibly understand, and he didn't try to fix any of it. He just stayed." She swallows. "I went back to my bed that night, and for the first time in months, I didn't fall asleep thinking about my problems. I fell asleep wondering who that person was. What his name might be. Whether he'd actually meant it when he said I could visit his office."
"And you wanted to visit me?"
"I did." She smiles faintly. "I kept your blazer for two weeks, trying to come up with a reason to see you again that wouldn't sound completely insane. Returning it was the best excuse I had."
"For the record, it was an excellent excuse. Completely believable. Nobody would ever suspect ulterior motives.”
"Shut up," she says, laughing wetly, and that's when you see it. A single tear sliding down her right cheek, catching the dim light.
You lift your hand and gently wipe it away with your thumb. Then you lean in and kiss her.
The kiss is soft and unhurried. Her hands come up to rest against your chest, and when you pull back her eyes are shining but she's smiling.
"You're absolutely right," you tell her. "About all of it. So here's how we're going to do this. One day at a time. Tomorrow's problems are tomorrow's problems. We'll deal with them when they arrive, together, and not a minute before."
"And today?"
"Today there weren't any problems at all," you say. "Today we drank terrible coffee and rode a bus and wandered around a record store... Okay, technically I bribed the owner to empty the entire place so we could have one ridiculously romantic moment all to ourselves. And yeah, I know, you didn't approve."
"I really didn't."
"I've reflected on my actions."
"Oh?"
"I've concluded that I should never do it again."
"Good."
"But..." You can't help smiling. "You have to admit it was a beautiful moment."
She tries to stay serious for all of two seconds before a reluctant smile appears. "...It was."
"I knew it." You brush your thumb lightly along her cheek. "Then we bought groceries in the rain. I sang Lou Reed to you in public. And then you came home with me." Your smile softens as you hold her gaze. "We had a perfect day together. The first of many.”
Jimin's smile grows a little wider, though it trembles just enough to betray the tears gathering in her eyes. She gives a small, certain nod, never once breaking eye contact.
"Yeah," she says softly. "The first of many.”
You pull her back into your arms and hold her there. She hooks her chin over your shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric at the small of your back, and neither of you moves to let go. The tea sits untouched on the counter beside her, steam thinning to nothing. You don't reach for it. She doesn't either.
Outside, the rain keeps falling against the kitchen windows. Steady and unhurried, tracing long lines down the glass that catch the dim light and scatter it across the countertop. You've noticed it before. All of it. The nights it found the two of you.
It rained after the bench. After you walked away from her that first night and lay in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about the woman you'd found sitting alone by the river. It rained at the lake house, the storm that trapped you both inside until the walls came down and you stopped pretending you didn't need each other. It rained today too, from the moment you stepped out of that record store until you finally walked through your front door together.
For months you carried this strange feeling that it meant something. Something ominous. Like the universe kept casting the same grey sky over every chapter of your lives together, and you couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a warning.
You don't feel that anymore.
The rain was never trying to tell you anything. It was just there. The same way she was just there, on that bench, past midnight, when you needed someone and didn't know it yet. It kept showing up because that's what it does. And so did she.
Jimin exhales slowly against your neck. You feel her body settle against yours, the last bit of tension leaving her shoulders, her weight leaning more fully into you. You tighten your arms around her. Not urgently. Just enough that she knows you're not going anywhere.
Tomorrow will come. Her schedule, your boardroom, the conversations she needs to have, the world that hasn't paused for either of you. It will be there in the morning, waiting, exactly as complicated and relentless as you left it.
But that's tomorrow.
Tonight belongs to the two of you.
There's only the steady rhythm of her breathing, the rain tapping softly against the windows, and the quiet that settles so easily between you now. Two people who met on the worst night of both their lives, who stumbled through grief and uncertainty until, somehow, they found their way here.
In a kitchen that smells faintly of basil and tea, wrapped in each other's arms on a rainy Friday night, with nowhere else to be, nothing left to prove, and no one else either of you would rather be with.
“Okay, fine. But this is the last time I’m doing this.”
“We both know you’ll come back to me.”
“This is the last time. Next semester I’m going to study for real and I won’t need you anymore.”
It was the third or fourth time you’d heard the same thing. Since the first semester, it had always been the same. Tzuyu could perfectly well do the assignments on her own, but there was at least one class per semester where she didn’t seem to care at all. She usually paid you to do the assignments for those subjects, but as the semester progressed, your price would increase until it reached a point where she couldn’t afford it anymore; or rather, she didn’t want to pay it. But you always reached an agreement, and you always ended up desperate for her to pay you in another way.
Luckily for you, those other ways Tzuyu paid you were usually a blowjob. If you were lucky, she’d let you grope her breasts or her ass, but that only happened when the assignment was especially difficult. Her usual currency was blowjobs, and things had never gone any further. You'd never seen her naked or anything like that; even when you grabbed her ass, you did it over her clothes.
Not that you were going to complain about her paying you that way. Your wallet appreciated the extra cash, but when exams were approaching, a good blowjob helped you release tension and clear your mind. It just so happened that Tzuyu gave the best blowjobs on campus, or so the rumors said. Unfortunately, you didn't have a large enough database to verify for yourself if that was true or not, but your own experience told you it was.
You and she were on different popularity rungs. You weren't an outcast, but you were definitely among the nerds, and that affected your social life. Plus, you were almost always studying, which further limited your interactions with other students, but you still managed to sleep with someone every now and then.
On the other hand, Tzuyu was several rungs above you on the social ladder. She was beautiful, charming, kind, lovely, a good person, beautiful, and many other positive qualities; which made her a truly popular student. Someone you wouldn't have a chance of sleeping with in a million years. But fate had it that she was your classmate, which ultimately led to this strange arrangement you two had.
You had most of your classes together, so it wasn't that unusual to see you talking occasionally. You were both good students, so no one was surprised if you shared notes or something like that, but beyond that, your illicit encounters had to go unnoticed by everyone else.
"Okay, but where?" Tzuyu asked, getting a little impatient.
"In my dorm, of course." As expected, she looked indignant at your answer.
"I'm not going into your dorm. If someone see us, they'll think we're up to no good."
"Unless you want to give me a blowjob in the library... we don't have anywhere else to go." It was always the same with her. Every time you two agreed that Tzuyu would give you a blowjob, she'd protest about having to do it in your dorm, but honestly, it was the best place you had available. "Oh, they say that if you go behind the science building at certain times, you can hear strange noises. Maybe you want to go there and check it out."
"Idiot." Tzuyu shoved your shoulder in exasperation. "Let's go to your dorm." She finally agreed. She knew it was the best option, too, because she wasn't going to risk someone discovering her on her knees behind a building with your cock in her mouth.
"Do you want to hold hands while we walk?" The question threw you off, but you weren't going to miss an opportunity like that, so... Bam! Tzuyu slapped your hand away when you tried to touch hers. "Honestly, I don't know how someone as intelligent as you doesn't understand sarcasm." Instead of taking your hand, she picked up the books she had left on the table and handed them to you. "Be helpful and take my books." With that, she left without another word.
Of course, Tzuyu knew the way to your dorm; she'd been there a few times already. This allowed her to walk a few steps ahead of you, trying to disguise the fact that you were walking together. You didn't mind because it gave you the freedom to stare at her ass, something no one could judge you for since everyone knew Tzuyu's ass was perfect.
Perhaps someone in the physics department should study the circumference of Tzuyu's ass; its roundness was perfect in many ways. It was large and might look a little chubby, but the almost perfect shape of her buttocks gave it an appearance of immaculate perfection. Even when small cellulite marks appeared when she decided to wear really short shorts, none of that could detract from the overall look of her rear. Simply put, Tzuyu's ass was almost supernaturally perfect.
Even with her perfect ass and her fleshy thighs and long legs, no one would dare say that Tzuyu's best feature wasn't her face. Seeing her was like being in the presence of an angel, at least without the part about the thousands of eyes, a being from another dimension. She was someone who didn't belong in this world full of people not as beautiful as her. Even though her ears were quite large, it only made her look cuter and gave her an aura of innocence, which her eyes complemented with a soft and kind gaze. And then there was her smile, oh, Tzuyu's smile could brighten anyone's day no matter how bad things were.
But of course, you weren't fooled by that perfect face and hypnotic laugh; you knew her other side, the one that not everyone got to see. Because the truth was that Tzuyu lost that kind look and angelic expression when she had a cock in her mouth. It just so happened that she'd had yours quite a few times, so in this case, your information was accurate.
You spent the entire walk to your dorm blatantly staring at Tzuyu's ass, but the way she strutted, swaying her hips, made it clear she knew you were doing it. It was like a way of teasing you because you both knew you'd never get to taste her ass, beyond a few simple grabs over her clothes.
Luckily for both of you, your roommate had dropped out of university, so until you were assigned a new roommate, you had the place to yourself. It wasn't very spacious, but at least it gave you and Tzuyu a place where no one would see what you were up to.
"Is your dick clean?" she asked casually once you'd closed the dorm door behind you.
The question made you roll your eyes. "Yeeesss. I showered just a few hours ago."
"Wash it up again anyway. I'm not going to touch your dick if it's dirty and smelly."
"Tzuyu… Ugh, okay." You practically threw her books onto the empty bed and strode off to the bathroom. When you came back out, she'd already made herself comfortable on your bed, sitting on the edge with an expression as if she were afraid of sitting on something dirty or catching some disease.
"The sheets are clean," you said before she could ask the question you knew she was going to ask. "Just… forget it." Instead of arguing with her, the best thing you could do was stand in front of Tzuyu and offer her your cock so she could do what she'd come here to do.
Since she'd made you wash your cock, you decided there was no point in putting it away again, so you stood in front of her with your boxers around your mid-thighs and your pants bunched up around your feet.
Tzuyu looked at you with an expression of indifference and surprise at you daring to put your cock so close to her face, but years of doing the same thing had taught you that the best thing to do with her was to be direct. Even if that sometimes earned you one of her murderous glares.
"Do I have to make it hard for you?"
"Come on, don't you expect me to do all the work?" You swayed your hips, making your cock swing from side to side to signal her to hurry up. "My cock isn't going to suck itself."
"Goooood." Tzuyu drew out the word, rolling her eyes in exasperation, as if you couldn't see her. But she didn't really care; that attitude was part of her charm, and she knew it.
At first, she only grabbed your cock with three fingers. Actually, she only used the fingertips to touch your member and start masturbating you as if she were handling a dirty object or taking something out of the trash, but as you got harder, the contact increased. By the time your cock was fully erect, Tzuyu had already wrapped her hand around it and was giving you a proper handjob, all the while looking at anything but your cock.
"Doesn't it disgust you to be so perverted?" she asked out of the blue, but when you saw where she was looking, you immediately understood why she was asking.
"No, they're vintage." She was looking at the porn magazines on your nightstand. "That magazine isn't even in print anymore. I got them at a garage sale last week."
"But do you really have to leave them there in plain sight?" The question seemed like a distraction from what she was doing, as if she didn't want to think about the way she was slowly moving her hand to stroke the length of your cock.
"Well. I don't have a roommate right now, so it doesn't matter. You're the only person who comes here. Want to see them?" You asked, reaching for one.
"Ewww, no!" She made a face of disgust at your suggestion, which struck you as ridiculous given the context. She had no problem giving you a handjob and a blowjob to pay you for doing her homework, but flipping through an old porn magazine was too much. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation.
Tzuyu's response to your laughter was to squeeze your member near the base and twist her hand while stretching the skin of your cock as far as it would go. A soft moan quickly replaced your laughter. "Be careful," you said, closing your eyes. "If you don't want me to cum on your face, be careful what you do."
"Don't even think about it. I'll kill you if you ruin my makeup or get it in my hair." That was the problem with Tzuyu. She could be doing something truly obscene, but she'd still try to act like her actions were the most normal thing in the world, all while treating you like a total pervert. A shame, because in your opinion, the only thing that could enhance Tzuyu's beauty was having that perfect face covered in thick strands of warm, freshly squeezed semen.
You bit your lip to stop yourself from telling her that her face was perfect for receiving a load. You knew that if you let those words out, she'd get angry. Although, in truth, she looked beautiful when she was angry. "But Chuwi…" You let the nickname hang in the air to test her reaction, because of course you weren't on the select list of people who could call her that. When it was clear that, at least for the moment, she wasn't bothered by your boldness, you continued. "You'd look beautiful with a little semen on your face." You didn't even get a chance to let out the mocking giggle you had prepared because she slapped you on the tip of your member, eliciting a groan instead.
In the end, it was Tzuyu who ended up letting out an amused, somewhat wicked, giggle at your reaction. "I already told you no." Tzuyu's hand traced the length of your member again. "Semen is hard to get out of hair, and for God's sake, I'm not taking a shower in this shithole."
You decided to overlook the fact that she was more worried about her hair and makeup, or about having to shower in your bathroom, than about you covering her face in semen. If you had suggested something like that last semester, it might have meant your death. You really were never going to understand Tzuyu.
To settle any argument about whether or not you could cum on her face, Tzuyu stretched out her tongue and placed the head of your penis against it. The contact of her tongue against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, making you shudder. This didn't go unnoticed by her, and she smiled at your reaction.
Tzuyu knew she had you in her hands, both figuratively and literally. While one hand explored your dick, the other caressed your balls. Her fingers gently traced your skin, eliciting sighs and small shivers. Tzuyu knew exactly what she was doing; somehow, she was an expert at playing with dicks.
Looking directly into your eyes, Tzuyu wrapped her lips around your head. Only the tip of your member was in her mouth, but you could already feel its warmth. Her tongue playfully circled your member until it moved to explore the opening of your urethra. Her cheeks were cupped the whole time because she never stopped sucking while doing all of this.
Meanwhile, the caresses on your balls continued. Tzuyu's fingers massaged your scrotum, maximizing the pleasure her mouth was giving you. She had done so little and she already had you on the verge of madness; she had only taken a small part of your member in her mouth and you were already clenching your buttocks to avoid cuming. No, you couldn't come so quickly. Not because you were embarrassed, with Tzuyu anyone would understand, but because you wanted to savor the moment as much as possible. Tzuyu's oral skills were something you didn't find very often.
As if reading your thoughts, Tzuyu slid her lips along your shaft, swallowing more and more of your flesh until a large portion was inside her mouth. Almost comically, her cheek warped under the pressure of your cock, clearly revealing a bulge inside her mouth.
Your cock bumped against the inside of her cheek a couple more times, creating that obscene bulge, before she changed the way she was sucking you. Her hand rested on your thigh while the other caressed the base of your member, twisting your skin and sending incredible sensations throughout your body. Now that Tzuyu was sucking you properly, moving her head back and forth, all you could do was enjoy her actions. Her mouth engulfed more and more of your anatomy without her showing any signs of wanting to stop.
You couldn't be an active participant in this. You knew that if you moved your hips or tried to hold Tzuyu's head, she'd scold you. That would probably be the end of the deal, and you'd still have to help her with her homework anyway. It was clear Tzuyu was giving you a blowjob, but she was treating you like little more than a toy. You were just a means to get what she wanted.
The sound of gagging pulled you from your thoughts, gagging that could only be Tzuyu's. She was forcing your cock into her mouth, actually bringing her face as close to your body as she could, willingly gagging on your member. The wet warmth of her throat enveloped your head, and you understood how deep inside her you were. That sensation set your imagination running wild, making you wonder if her pussy was just as tight and wet. Something you were sure you'd never find out for yourself.
Tzuyu pulled her face away from your body until only the tip remained in her mouth, then she swallowed as much of your member as she could. She moved closer and closer to you, each movement of her head plunging you deeper and deeper into her throat. Her warmth enveloped you deliciously as you watched your cock disappear inside her.
For the final few centimeters, Tzuyu gripped your ass with both hands and simply forced what remained of your cock into her throat. Her breath tickled you as her nose pressed against your abdomen. Tzuyu had finally managed to swallow your entire cock, an admirable feat given its size.
When she pulled away and let your cock fall from her mouth, she did so accompanied by wet, obscene sounds. Along with your member, a gush of saliva spurted out, dripping down her chin, some of it landing on the floor. Making bubbles with her breath, Tzuyu quickly spread her saliva all over your member. Her hands again traced its length as she panted heavily.
Her lips curved into an unavoidable smile; there was a joy on her face that she couldn't hide. Despite everything she said, Tzuyu couldn't prevent you from noticing how much she enjoyed sucking your cock. Maybe not your cock specifically, but it was obvious how much she liked having a piece of meat obstructing her throat.
Soon her breathing returned to some semblance of normality, and Tzuyu swallowed your member again. This time, she went as deep as she could in one go; her throat had become accustomed to the abuse, so swallowing the remaining few centimeters was effortless. Now, seeking a steady rhythm, Tzuyu began to move her head, more like fucking her own throat with your member than sucking your cock. Almost as if you were just a toy to her, which, in reality you were.
Tzuyu's ability to give a blowjob was incredible. She made you think about how much practice she really had, whether she had a toy at home that she had fun with every day or there were simply other chosen ones who got to feel her throat more often than you. It was probably the second option because Tzuyu could have whoever she wanted, right now she had your cock deep in her mouth just because she needed you for something, otherwise in your place she would find a boy more handsome and popular than you.
No one in his place would have complained about this treatment. A blowjob from someone as beautiful and skilled as Tzuyu was worth so much more than what she paid you to do her homework, it almost felt like a scam. You didn't even need the money, so feeling her throat squeeze your member was more like a gift than payment. No one would have preferred money over having Tzuyu's nose pressed against your abdomen while she choked on your cock.
In those displays of skill that always fascinated you, Tzuyu would go from having your cock deep in her throat to sucking sloppily. She would let her saliva run freely and drip from your member, she would press your head against the inside of her cheek forming that obscene bulge, she would move her head quickly, or she would cup her cheeks. You felt in heaven and needed nothing more in the world than Tzuyu's warm mouth around your throbbing cock.
In those rare moments when lack of air forced Tzuyu to leave her mouth free, she was in charge of continuing to masturbate you. Her hands never stopped pleasuring you when she was catching her breath, whether playing with your cock or your balls. Although it was clear that Tzuyu's priority was her own pleasure, she never left yours aside. She always made sure you had a good time, and boy did you enjoy those little moments with her. Locked there in your room, she didn't hold back and put on a spectacular show that showed off all her oral skills. you were sure that Tzuyu could go as far as she wanted in life just by using her mouth.
You were already getting tired of enduring the onslaught of pleasure that she provoked in you. You had your ass clenched for a while in an attempt not to cum so quickly, but you didn't want to hold on any longer. Trying to resist orgasm when Tzuyu was doing those things to your cock was downright stupid. "I-I-I'm close." you managed to sputter and make yourself heard over the wet sounds coming from your cock. Tzuyu's response was to take a deep breath to fill her lungs and then swallow your entire cock in one go. When you felt her nose press against your abdomen you simply exploded.
A torrent of warm cum shot from your cock directly into Tzuyu's throat. She didn't show any discomfort, on the contrary, her eyes shone with lust as she looked at you. Although it might also have been tears from having to hold her breath and swallow all the semen you were giving her.
With all the stress of final exams approaching you hadn't had time to cum properly so your balls were full, all that cum was there waiting to be released. Luckily for you, and perhaps Tzuyu's bad fortune, you were now giving free rein to all that you had accumulated. Which maybe was too much, maybe you should have warned her, but either way Tzuyu was well acquainted with how much cum you could produce. Only this time it was too much, causing her to miscalculate her chances of swallowing it all and something unexpected ended up happening.
Suddenly retching noises filled the room, Tzuyu was quickly running out of air and you couldn't stop cumming. In a reflex action she moved away from you a little and tried to breathe, which was worse because in an absolutely surprising way you saw how your semen shot out of Tzuyu's nostrils. As if she had a cold, your semen came out of her nose until she couldn't take it anymore and had to take your cock out of her mouth.
Panting and coughing, she spit some of your cum onto the floor and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, which she then wiped on the covers of your bed. She stood there breathing heavily with her head down and still coughing sometimes while you didn't know what to do. When she straightened up to look at you you could see that there was still a bit of cum on her nose and that the tears from running out of breath had totally ruined her makeup.
"Don't just stand there, idiot, get me something to clean myself up with." You were sure that if she hadn't been having trouble speaking, Tzuyu's tone would have been much angrier. "Forget it, idiot," she added, seeing your inaction. Tzuyu stood up and, after pushing you aside, ran the few steps to the bathroom. From the sounds you could hear, it was clear she was washing her face at the sink.
"This wouldn't have happened if you'd let me cum on your face," you said, approaching her to hand her a towel. The very same towel you'd used to dry your cock earlier.
Recap:
After the living arrangement with the girls was settled—one that felt less like a choice and more like something decided for you—Chaeyoung brought your exhausted self to your new home, which ended, unsurprisingly, in a "lovely" night. Apparently, it was her goodbye before her temporary absence.
“You should’ve let me pack it yesterday.”
Jiheon starts scolding the moment she steps into your ransacked room. She’s not wrong. Last-minute packing turned your closet upside down this morning, and now your floor looks like a battlefield of half-folded shirts and rogue socks.
“I'm sorry, okay?” flashing her a sheepish smile hoping it would stop making her upset; well, pouting, still but you hope your smile had some effect. “It might look messy, but I’m almost done. Just a few more clothes left—and hey, now you get to choose what I wear for the whole trip. That’s a win, right?”
She rolls her eyes, circling your room like a judgmental fashion inspector. “Why would you volunteer for an extra shift the day before our trip?” she mutters, picking up a pair of jeans and holding them up to you. If she approves, she folds them and tosses them to your luggage. If she doesn’t, she hurls them at you like she’s feeding laundry to a dragon. You catch a flying shirt and quickly fold it, lips twitching as you try not to laugh.
“I just had to,” you admit. “With me gone, Gyuri doesn't get along with the rest of the staff—” you fucked up, You shouldn’t have said her name. Especially not with that tone of concern, yet you've done it—done for.
You turn with every part of your body screaming for flight, afraid to face the raging bee behind you. Lotion bottle gripped in her hand. “How about this, when we get there no rides, lets just walk around the beach till sunset.” You appease, trying not to snap the winding catapult as you approach her slowly. “Look, we can leave now. I'm done packing, with a few extra hours to spare.”
“And the sunscreen?”
“Of course! For ease of access, in this pocket it's right here… It's—its—” it's not there. Ah shit. You've accepted your going on this trip with a lotion bottle dent on your head.
But the bottle never came, instead you hear… giggling. Then laughter. You look up to find Jiheon clutching the sunscreen bottle, shaking with amusement. “Dummy,” she laughs, teasing you with it like it’s a trophy.
It was a prank. You’ve fallen for it. For her. Again.
“Come here!” you yell, lunging toward her as she squeals and scrambles away, still laughing. You chase her around the room, your luggage forgotten, your heart full.
A yelp echoes off the walls as you finally catch her, arms wrapping around her waist as the two of you tumble back—falling into the bed in a tangle of limbs and joy.
Laughter lingers like perfume in the air. Then, slowly, it fades. So do your movements.
On top of you now, her hands resting on your chest, breath warm against your neck.
That smile—so infectious even her eyes can’t help but mimic it—softens as she looks at you, the kind of look that says she’s happy just being here. With you.
You reach up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“A few extra hours to spare?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Did I hear that right?”
Her hand comes up, gently covering your eyes. She leans in closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You can feel the warmth of her skin, the nearness of her—just inches now.
Your breath hitches.
You wait.
But the kiss never comes.
It never will.
Your eyes break open. So does the breath you'd been holding back. The welcome of your palms tins into a grip you can't let go of.
Gone is the laughter that made the room bright. Gone is the warmth that made it worth staying in. Gone is the sunlight that kept it clear.
Here, only you. Left alone. A desolate room.
You want to lash out, but your body won't move—afraid that even a twitch would shatter something already broken. You want to scream, but your voice is adamant to cry out for something already wrong. You want to wake from a nightmare that has clung to you long past where dreams should end.
Yet somewhere, your name is called.
By her. By someone else.
It calls again, holding you steady in your breathless state.
"Breathe."
An eerily soothing voice—one that makes you obey before you even register the request.
A caress, in contrast to your cold sweat.
"It's just a dream."
It was.
"It's okay."
It is.
She calls for you once again. Her voice is a lullaby by nature—comforting, yet it feels less like an ask and more like a command.
Before you can see past the silhouette that cares for you, she rests her hands over your eyes and slowly closes them for you.
"Sleep."
And you did.
Willingly so.
Willingly.
…
..
.
The day starts slowly. You wake up slow. Everything is—it just feels slow. Like the world asked for a rest, and it was granted.
Sunlight that normally creeps in by morning is already there when you open your eyes, yet it hasn't moved since then. The clock by the desk seems to have had its own lazy morning too; you blink twice—really open your eyes—leaving it to assumption that you'd need a splash of water before you'd see it move at all.
It doesn't feel wrong. Odd, maybe—or maybe not. It's calm. Everything is. And it makes you breathe not in a way you have to, but in a way you want to—slowly, deeply, with no hurry and no goal.
Then you feel it: the first movement in the room. The rustle of weight beside you, unnoticed at first as she'd been cozy beneath the blanket, but undeniable now as she chooses your arm as her pillow.
She's curled into you—weight and space both—yet the pressure feels more relieving than anything else. Lighter, even with her there.
"Chaeyoung…"
You call out, and it feels like everything exhales with it. Like everything now feels right. You faintly hear the sprinkle of rain greeting the grass. The busy road, the busy street, the busy day.
And her—you feel her breathe, and more, you feel her groan.
"You're still going to sleep?" You have to pause your smile to ask her the question. It comes with a hope that she says no, that she rise and greets you with her ever teasing laugh—though not ending this morning wouldn't be so bad either, given how comforting and relaxing it's been to just lie here.
You gave it a second, then nothing.
"Chae?" You asked again. This time with a touch of impatience.
There was enough rustling that the top of her head finally peeked out despite her being wrapped in the blankets.
Maybe it was a ruse to wake her up. Maybe just simple endearment. Last time this had happened, it was Chaeyoung who'd teased you awake—you consider this making it even.
A soft caress through her hair, a finger or two pressing gently against her scalp. A playful massage, fingers twirling through the strands.
There was movement you brushed off, but eventually she had to react—a head shake, more alive than the last, though still the bare minimum effort to shrug off your game.
"Are you really going to keep sleeping?"
This time you lean in close, make sure the whisper of her name lands right at her ear. She hitches, and the blanket hitches with her.
It was adorable, oddly so. For someone who'd been consistently sultry with her voice, who'd done nothing but trace fingertips over you—Chaeyoung the temptress—this morning she'd done nothing but tempt you back to sleep beside her.
So you did. Willingly. Partially.
You lay back down, tucked into the same blanket, joining her under its cover. It carried its own warmth—not from the blanket itself, but from the space between you.
Waking up with your arm as her pillow was close. But it's an entirely different kind of close when you're spooning her.
You feel her—every part of her pressed against you. Feel every breath she takes.
You move your other arm to wrap around her—meant to be instant, but her breath catches, and so does your arm, suspended just before it settles.
Then her breath slows, deepens, like she's resolved herself to something. You take the hint and pull her closer, the way you'd wanted to from the start. The space between you disappears as you fall into her rhythm, inhaling and releasing in time with her.
You stay like that for a second—it would've been longer if you'd let yourself drift back to sleep. But it's morning, and your fingers have other ideas. Too restless to stay idle.
They start tracing mindless shapes over her—blindly poking her nose, feeling the fuzz of her eyebrows, going a step further to press against her lips, feeling her exhale warm against your skin with every breath.
She doesn't complain. Doesn't even move. But you can feel—know—she's anticipating more. She's awake. You're sure of it, not after that head shake, and certainly not now that your fingers have gotten touchy.
Especially when you feel it by instinct—pull back just in time. A bite, or an attempt at one, too close to your fingers for comfort.
You give ground, just for that hand. A chuckle, your forehead pressing playfully to hers—though it might've been a distraction, since your other hand has already joined in.
It's its own kind of pesky, tracing her taut stomach, following every breath, playful and mindless all at once.
Until a spark of thought gives it a goal. An enticing one.
You pause, and the shift in the air is immediate. No longer innocent play. She notices.
"Chaeyoung," you say, a little shaky now, gone is the smirk from before.
She nods.
A hum of approval follows, making it clear—just for you.
Your hand, which had been tracing her stomach, moves lower. Past her pajamas. Past her underwear.
It's met with new warmth. New heat.
Her reaction comes first—her hand reaching to hold your arm, the one wrapped around her. Not to stop you. To feel you. What stops instead is her breath, just for a beat, before it shifts—from the deep, relaxed rhythm of before to something new. A breath of anticipation.
And you don't let her wait.
Already at her most intimate space, your hands pushed to be in between her legs. A touch, then a slip. A finger sliding through her folds, as it follows just along her entrance, her clit deliberately brushed against. Her whimper confirms what you already were feeling.
An exhale of hers felt so heated to your skin.
You don't let her wait, but it was patience you decided to toy with immediately after.
Slow—grudgingly slow—you move against her. As simple as it can be, as light as her breaths had been. There's no rush. It's savor that sets the pace.
Her cunt pressed by the stroke of your fingers, she tries to hold it in, but you can hear the tiny whimpers she fails to suppress. Your arm, the one her head rests on, feels her breath turn to heat. Her hand clings to your fingers—a frail attempt at control she doesn't really have.
You could point out how wet she is. But you both already know it. You don't need to be vulgar with words the way you were last night—it's the silence that does that work now, carrying its own kind of filth, making sure it's only her sound filling this space.
Then, finally, she gives in. A moan—immediate, and shyly muffled by her own hand.
The second one isn't suppressed at all. She's let go of herself, already past the point of holding back.
By the third, she's asking. Not in words—but it's clear what she needs.
More.
And she acts on it. Her hips hesitate, then decide almost immediately that they're too starved to wait any longer. They roll, chasing after the fingers that had given her rest, impatient for a new pace—one faster than the slow you'd given her.
The blanket had its new rustle.
It's no longer about you giving pleasure. It's her chasing after it. And with the new movement, she presses back against something you'd almost forgotten about.
Your arousal, hard on its own now, catches every roll of her hips, pressing you both a step further into indulgence. You can only groan as she clearly takes her own pleasure from how you were rubbing behind her.
The bed that had been set for her pleasure is now shared.
Her hand lets go of your busy arm and moves back, reaching for you. You feel her touch land on your pants, making her want clear. You comply—stopping for a second, pulling away from her heat just long enough to shove your pants down, guiding her hand to what's now exposed.
Every finger of hers wraps around your cock, deliberate, exploring. She gives herself a second, a gasp, just to feel you—before she gets to work. A clumsy stroke, done for the lust more so than anything else.
You bend to her touch, leaning closer almost to nuzzle into her. The ghost of your breath now brushes her flushed ear. Closer than before, it made you more aware of her mewls as she melts into you.
The pause that had freed your other hand doesn't stay idle for long. You use the moment to pull down her pants, hasty and rough, every second feeling wasted if it isn't spent touching her.
Her lower half exposed, you take a detour—following her shape, tracing her curves, feeling her softness. And you feel her as your tip traces the arch of her back—bare, raw and throbbing against her skin.
She huffs, not from pleasure this time, but impatience. She needs you back.
So you go back—though gentle strokes are no longer enough for her, not when she keeps asking for more, not when you can feel her own want in the hand that is working your girth. You touch her again, and this time you press a finger inside.
A moan, clearer than any before this morning, carries a different tone than you'd expected.
Your finger, welcomed like it had been waited for, slick and wet as before, pulls you deeper—warm, throbbing, and instantly enveloping. Restless, yet expectant.
You move. Press and drag along her walls, gentle where she needs it, adjusting to her satisfaction. She clenched to your pace and keened with every motion you were doing into her.
She calls your name—differently than Chaeyoung ever had. Surrendered. Full of plea. Asking for you. Asking for more.
So you give her more. Another finger, faster now, enough to make her wail. It drips, her cunt, with her juices that hadn't stopped since you started. She was coiling to the tension.
She tries to match your pace with the hand working you, even as her bare back presses harder into you.
You feel her tensing. Your name again, breaking apart as she starts to lose herself. She's close. You match her.
She cries out unchaste rambling, too undisciplined for words.
And she comes—her grip tightening and stilling, moans cresting into a whisper against the hand where her head rests. The fingers that had clung to yours now hold you tight in her palm as she clings to herself, to the feeling.
She comes undone, and you feel it from the inside—tightening, spasming, holding your fingers in place until the very end, gushing warmth as her body fights through it. You follow right after, pressing your cock to her arching back, the canvass for your realease—spurts landing, sticking, dripping down her back.
The lazy morning has turned into a sweaty exchange of release. Sweat and spend soak the sheets. Warm, satisfied breaths fill the room.
A second of reprieve settles over the now-debauched bed.
After a beat of rest, and you gave her more. You reach for her again—yet she's still stubbornly wrapped in the blanket. This time you pull it away, an impulse you only just thought of. What surprises you is the resistance she gives to it—resistance that had been entirely absent when you touched her.
You've done a lot this morning. To the bed. To her. And yet, as if deliberately, you still haven't seen her face.
"Chaeyoung, we need to get up," you say, though it carries a tint of confusion, quietly asking for an answer.
She doesn't give you one.
"Chaeyoung?" Her name again, this time a question.
"You can wash up first." A clear voice, finally—too clear to be Chaeyoung's, whose voice even in its soft morning had always try to allure. What you heard was not that.
Something snaps in you. You move like a string pulled taut, one single thought cutting through everything that just happened.
This is not Chaeyoung.
"Who—" The thought leaks out before you can stop it. It needed to get out.
You pull again, and this time she lets it go—no longer hidden by a mere blanket.
It isn't the dark hair that spills like Chaeyoung's; hers ends too early, cropped short. Cotton pajamas instead of the lace you'd seen the night before. It isn't the confident posture you'd been looking for—instead, something timid, quiet, that greets you.
It really is not Chaeyoung.
"Seoyeon?"
Her eyes meet yours, only for a second, before she pulls away. Too flushed to hold your gaze.
"Wha…"
It's absurd, really—too much to even shape into a single question. Why she's here. Why she said nothing. Why she let it happen. And why, after all that, she's acting like this now.
This—the way she avoids your eyes, how withdrawn she looks, yet still frozen in place. How voiceless she is.
"Why?"
Too many questions, but that's the only one you manage.
"I'm sorry."
It's the way she stammers it, the way apologizing is her first instinct, that twists your gut. Something about this is wrong—but why does it feel like she's the one bracing to take the blame?
"No, Seoyeon, I didn't mean—not like that…"
You try to explain, only to stumble over the reasoning, just as lost as she seems.
"Why are you here?" You force yourself to ground the question, to get clarity before anything else. "Chaeyoung was here last night, so I assumed—I called you Chaeyoung. Why didn't you say anything?"
A question meant to explain the situation only ends up raising a new one.
"It wasn't last night."
Not the answer you expected. An answer that only opens another question.
"What?"
"You were asleep for more than a day." She faces you now, trying to sound calm. "Chaeyoung left yesterday. She told me to look after you."
"That still doesn't explain why you were in my arms."
"I was checking on you." At least now she's meeting your eyes, though you notice her fingers fidgeting with the blanket. "You had a nightmare—a bad one," she corrects herself. "You were having trouble breathing. You were about to lose yourself."
She pauses. Takes a breath. Finally gives you the reason.
"I helped you calm down. Helped you sleep. I had to use my… skill…" She hesitates, like she half-expects you not to believe her.
You stare at her. Your breathing has settled by now, most of the questions answered, your thoughts a little clearer. And in their place, a different thought surfaces—her. Still flushed from before, her pajamas damp with sweat, exposed now that the blanket is gone. Her hair a mess, a few strands still pressed near her mouth—the same mouth that had moaned and called your name. You start to wonder, if you could still taste her by your fingers, wonder on how her back looked like after—
"I fingered you and cummed on you." Crass, blunt—an accident, something you never meant to say out loud.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have deceived you."
Deceived.
That word stings. She apologizes like she's the one to blame.
"Stop—what are you saying, why are you—Seoyeon, it's not about that. God, I was into it, okay? I initiated it, I enjoyed it. But that's not the point. It's about you. You should've said something. I would've stopped immediately if you'd just told me—"
"I know." Her voice is so small you almost miss it—if not for what it implies, which is loud enough to fill the whole room.
It stuns you. Gets you thinking, for a second, about pulling the blanket back over both of you and picking up where you left off.
But.
You've already done enough for one morning.
"I just don't know anymore," you mutter, your eyes drifting elsewhere, looking for something to land on. "My head's a mess. I shouldn't be doing this right now—not when I'm supposed to be dealing with other things."
You could've sworn you heard a small protest, but your mind's already made up.
A shaky exhale. "Can I just… have the room to myself? I need to think." A request, not a demand.
Seoyeon holds back whatever she was going to say. She understands enough, and even that much makes you grateful. She gathers herself, steps off the bed, worry still written on her face—but she respects your need for space. She walks out as quietly as she can, opens the door, and closes it behind her.
You've done nothing, gone nowhere, for too long—too compliant, too willing to just follow along ever since you met the girls. To flow with their whims.
You need to move. Just as before. Without them.
By yourself.
a/n:
Ok, just a yap. This took way too long idk how long? More than a year??? That was feb last year. Ah.
For that amount of time to only come up with 3k? Haha im sorry. This draft in particular had gone to many reworked (i talked about it way too much, tbh). I had to keep changing scopes, cause i keep adding stuff to the plot points, making a really complicated and twisted outline, when im not that good od a writer to pull it all together.
3k. Well it is short, but its not like that is a compromise, i just realised that there was no reason for me to write that long (plan a 20k then ran out of steam at 10k?). I think rather than long chapters or just fics and general maybe ill start leaning to shorter fics, with fp really done well chapter feature i can comfortably section my fics without feeling it as a compromise. Plus a 3k is a wordcount that i could write up even with the busiest week.
And for this series yap, same as before, i already have an outline, i just need to write them out, only this time it will be 3k* wordcount at a time.
You sat at your home working through Tokon souls combos when you got the call
“You go for Hugo,” you answer.
“Huuugooo,” you hear a familiar whine.
“Yeah Karina,”
“I need you to fuck me…” Karina responds
You sigh and say, “um why?”
Karina whines before saying, “your hot best friend tells you she needs to fuck you and your first question is why?”
You roll your eyes and spit back, “no my first question is what the fuck is happening? My second question is why?”
Karina laughed then said, “okay Hugo well if you must know I’ve been feeling this weird sensation in my stomach and I have been thinking about you coming over to my place bending me over and fucking taking me all over the apartment,”
You won’t deny the deal sounds enticing but Karina’s your friend and…hold up she just sent you something.
You unlock your phone to see Karina with one hand in her snatch and the other groping her tit,
“Hugo pleassseee. I neeeeed yoouuu,” Karina whined over the video. You watched with an unbearably hard errection and considered your options.
A minute passed and then another video sent. You open to see Karina moaning your name in desperation as she cums. The choice was made for you. You texted her on my way and she sent you voice memos of her fucking herself while moaning your name.
You arrive at her place 15 minutes later when you open the door you see her laying on her couch hand knuckle deep inside her. The eroticism is muted by the desperation and anguish on her face. You approach her carefully and she opened her eyes.
She lifts herself so she can straddle you and groans “Hugo please I need you inside me,”
You wish you had but more time to think before she takes you to the base.
Karina screams in relief as she bottoms out. You groan feeling her walls mold themselves to you. Karina breathes and her mind clears.
“Fuck you feel so good inside me.” She says
You look into her eyes as you look into hers and she says, “did you wishing willow me?”
You stare into her eyes hazed over with lust and respond “you’re joking right?”
Karina smiles and says. “I woke up feeling hot and bothered and no matter how much I cum I need more. I figured my friend who’s always talking about his crush on me did something,”
You laugh and say, “so you’d think I’d waste giving up the ability to open and close portals just to have you horny for me,” you say as Karina rides you.
A full bellied laugh escapes Karina’s lips sending her into a weird position on top of you that sends both of you to orgasm. You both moan and say “holy fuck!” Before you paint her walls white.
Afterwards the two of you just look at each other and just start laughing. For like a full minute. After that Karina gets up and says, “thanks Hugo. I needed all of that,”
You nod and say “anytime,”
Karina walks over to her phone and says “I’m ordering pizza you want anything”
“Oh Chicken and Artichoke,”
“Ewww,” Karina responds
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” you shoot back.
Karina stares at you orders a Hawaiian pizza, pepperoni, chicken and artichoke, and fried chicken.
“I forget you eat like a pro athlete,” you tease.
Karina turns to you and says, “don’t say that,”
“Why not it’s mean as a compliment,” you challenge and Karina pouts
“I know you mean it to be like that but it always makes feel bad now and i don’t know why.” Karina cries
“Well I’ll try to be more complimenting when I speak,”
Karina groans and says, that’s not the issue,”
“Yu Jimin what’s going on with you today. First you ring me up for a booty call and now…oh…okay,”
Karina turns at you and says, “what is it?”
“Karina where are you on your cycle?” You ask
“I don’t know you think I have time to keep track of that during all the other shit I have to deal with?” Karina responds pissed
You sigh and say, “okay whatever”
Karina looks at you and says “no no wait I’m sorry,”
You sigh again and say, “come here,”
Karina scurries over to you before sitting in your lap. She nestled herself in close before looking at you with an adorable smile. You hold her close to a she cooes happily.
Eventually she goes to sleep in your arms. You sigh for a third time considering how did you end up being this megastar’s “emotional support fuckbuddy,”
When the pizza finally arrives you put your pants back on and grab the order despite Karina, whined and bemoaned . You grab the pizza before closing the door and returning to Karina.
“Yay food,” she says as she grabs the box on the top.
She opens the chicken and artichoke pizza and groans.
“Of course this would be on top,” she says dejected.
You laugh as she takes out a slice bites into and stares at you,
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The droning of tires on the road - was a familiar and comforting sound to Jae, especially when it would soon lead to a beer in hand in his favorite chair by the lake.
The rambling sound of his wife's voice as she sat beside him in the car was not so soothing. He'd learned to appear engaged as she prattled on about problems at work or the things he hadn't fixed in the house. Mostly, he loved hearing his son and daughter chatting and getting increasingly excited in the backseat as they neared their destination.
The cabin had been in the family since before Jae was born. He and his wife had renovated it significantly and added a wing a few years after their second child, Minju, was born. Now, the house was a staple of their summer vacation and a place everybody in the family looked forward to visiting.
"Are we there yet?" Minju whined jokingly from the backseat.
"I'm not sure," his wife said, looking up from her phone. “ask your daddy."
"Getting close, Minju," Jae replied. We should take the scenic route with that great view of the lake. It should only add an hour or so to our schedule—what do you think?"
"NOOO!" both his children said in unison without hesitation. Jae looked at his wife to see her smiling; they both knew he'd only said it to get them to rise. Everyone was eager to arrive and stretch their legs after a three-or-so-hour drive.
Minju was already in her swimsuit; he knew she'd be of little help unloading the car once they arrived, as she typically headed right for the dock. His eighteen-year-old daughter was nothing if not predictable. Beautiful too, he observed as he saw her anxious blue eyes smiling at his in the rear-view.
He'd never say it aloud, but Minju was the one he looked forward to seeing most after a long day at work. They just got along so well, probably driven by the tense relationship Minju had with her mother. Do-yun, his twenty-four-year-old son, had become his own man since moving away for a job. Jae was very proud of him, but they talked nowhere near as much as he and his sweet little girl.
Jae knew things would change when Minju went off to college the next year. He wasn't looking forward to that or being left home alone with his wife. Most nights, he spent time with Minju curled up next to him, watching late-night television or taking a trip out for ice cream. Minju had friends and went out some nights, but she did seem to like spending time with him, and he felt lucky for it.
"The Son’s are going to be here on Thursday, you know," his wife's voice interrupted the pleasant thoughts he'd been having of Minju. So I want you all to be on your best behavior, including you!" his wife, Eunju, said, pointing Jae's way, "and especially you!" she continued, turning back to look Minju in the eye.
Of course, his wife always had some kind of agenda. She'd invited her friend from the country club, Son Mi-Young, and her family to the cabin for a few days. Eunju had been dropping hints for the past week or so to both Jae and his daughter about how 'respectful' and 'motivated' Mi-Young's son Sun-woo was. Jae and Eunju had been high school sweethearts, so no doubt she had designs to set their daughter up the same way. Sun-woo was some kind of engineer and going into his senior year in college. He may have a great career in front of him, thought Jae, but the kid was kind of a dud. He couldn't help but agree with Minju as he watched her roll her eyes and then smirk at him in the mirror when her mother looked away.
Jae remembered being in college, and as he looked at his eighteen-year-old in the backseat, he prayed that she wouldn't encounter too many wildmen like he was. He felt like he'd done his absolute best to instill good instincts in Minju, and hoped that she wouldn't take on too much of his wife's "settle down with a man who makes good money" mentality. He was confident Minju would be just fine.
Jae made a left turn onto the familiar street with the odd antique store on the corner. They were getting close. He watched Minju sit up in the backseat, obviously excited. Her young breasts were perked up in the swimsuit, visible as her cover-up top had slipped down over her shoulder. Her tummy showed beneath the top and of course, it was slender and smooth from all that yoga and other nonsense that Minju did. He knew he shouldn't be looking, yet he gazed at those impossibly tiny, white shorts that were riding up and leaving about ninety-nine percent of her long legs open to view. Minju was staring out the window in anticipation, so she couldn't catch him staring; Jae had to pull his eyes away. He was starting to worry about the fix-up his wife had planned for her this week, thinking that Sun-woo, the boring enginee,r would probably find her irresistible.
As soon as the car came to a stop in the wooded driveway that led up to the cabin, both of the rear doors to the car flew open. His two kids were in full-sprint to the water before he could even get out to yell after them. 'Oh well,' he thought, grabbing the discarded wrapper and coffee from his center console and walking with his wife at his side to the front door. He watched Minju and Do-yun hopping on one foot as they stripped off their clothes at the edge of the dock.
Their laughs spread a warm, comforting feeling through his chest, and the jingle of the keys in his hands meant they had finally arrived. Pushing the door open, the smell of the old cabin flooded his nostrils, and their vacation began.
Jae and his wife got the bare minimum from the car, leaving the rest for their two rascals before they grabbed a beer from the cooler and settled down on the sundeck. They probably had a lot of work to do to get the place in tip-top shape, but it could wait.
"…I'm not saying she's going to marry him," argued his wife after they'd been out on the deck chatting for a while, "I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt for her to meet a nice boy who had his head on straight like Sun-woo."
Jae wasn't going to argue with her about it; it wasn't worth it. "Well, don't expect me to be forcing any kind of interaction with him on Minju," he warned her. " Last time they met, she didn't seem too keen on him."
"Well, she just doesn't know a good boy with a bright future when she sees him."
"She's only just turned eighteen Eunju, I don't expect her to."
Truthfully, Jae wasn't going to force any interaction on Minju because he didn't want to jeopardize the time she'd spend with him. His daughter was sure to be his favorite part of their vacation, so he'd be damned if his wife's obnoxious friend or her uninteresting son stood in the way.
His wife hardly listened to him, and he went on about how Mi-Young had told her that Sun-woo was a wonderful writer and that he was the chairman of some club in his college. "Smile and nod," Jae repeated in his head.
After an hour or so, Minju and Do-yun came ambling up to the porch. Minju's dark brown hair was soaking wet and dripping down onto her youthful frame. No way is she wearing that bikini when our guests get here, Jae swore to himself. Minju must have had that bikini since she was fourteen because, despite her slender form, she simply filled it out too well. He was pretty sure her breasts were a 32C in a suit three sizes too small; they looked like they could pop out of her suit at any second in that top that she'd had since she was just a girl. The bottoms too, were much too small to contain her cute little butt.
"What's the matter, honey?" Jae said to Minju, "Are your parents depriving you so much that we haven't bought you a new bathing suit since the sixth grade?"
Minju looked down at her suit, directing his eyes to her mounded breasts and the beads of water still rolling down between them.
"Sorry Daddy, I just always liked this one," she reasoned.
"I don't think it's too bad, Jae," his wife interjected. I think you should wear it when Sun-woo gets here, too, to let him see you're all grown up."
Jae shook his head, and Minju quickly walked away. He hoped Eunju wasn't going to be doing this all week.
"Give it rest, will ya?" Jae asked her as he watched Minju saunter off. His wife just shrugged.
"Don't forget to unload the rest of the car!" Jae called after his kids as they went inside, hearing them grumble in unison.
Everybody eventually got around to doing the necessary tasks to get their cabin in order. Jae had to take off the storm windows, bring some things out from storage, replace a few light bulbs and then he and Do-yun got the boat in the water. Minju helped him fix a few posts on the dock, and thankfully she'd put her top back on so he could focus on the task at hand. As usual they were laughing and horse-playing the whole time.
"Daaaaaaad!" Minju yelled when he splashed her as he hopped down into the water.
"Minjuuu…." Jae mocked, "Quit your whining and give me a hand.
He pretended to look away as the young brunette stripped off her top. Jae's ability to focus would be short-lived, apparently. She hopped in next to him and watched as her father submerged to grab the post as low as possible. She had helped him many times before so she knew where to hold the platform and such, but she was always impressed at how strong he was to pull the pole out of the muck and how long he was able to hold his breath. The water always got so murky so she couldn't tell if her dad was making any progress.
"Ooouuuph…" Minju cried as she felt hands on her waist.
Her legs were quickly swept out from under her and she only had time to take one gasp of air before the water enveloped her.
When Minju came up, rubbing water from her eyes and taking a deep breath, she found her father grinning with pride.
"You jerk!" she cursed him, smacking him on the chest. Her hand connected with a thud; she knew it was because her father was diligent about his workouts.
"That's no way to talk to your father," Jae scolded her,
"Then you shouldn't be such a child and drown your daughter when she's trying to help you!"
Jae laughed and pulled his daughter against him, feeling her bikini-covered chest heaving while she caught her breath. Her fingers snaked around his side, and they joined in an impromptu hug. It lingered long enough that Minju felt the warmth from her father's manly frame against her in the cool water.
"I love you, Dad," she said, looking up into his eyes.
"Aww," he replied, "I love you too Minju'."
Her dad was the only one she let call her that. "I'm so excited about vacationing with you. Can we hang out just the two of us on this vacation?"
"Of course honey," Jae replied, "did you ask your mother what she had planned for the week?"
"Yep," Minju affirmed cutely.
"And what did she say?"
"What she always says: ask your daddy."
"Well, in that case, we can spend as much time together as you want."
Minju smiled again and they finally ended the embrace. She couldn't know, fortunately, but Jae was aware that having the teenager pressed against him for so long was causing a reaction beneath the surface of the water. He'd have to be careful to avoid that.
Jae swiftly lifted his little girl from the water by her waist, surprising her again with his strength. As he set her down on the dock, his eyes were close to level with those undersized bottoms, and again, he found himself remembering what it was like to be her age and constantly daydreaming about sexy young girls and what would undoubtedly be a tight tiny opening within those bottoms. Minju's lower half was alluring as any young girl he remembered from when he was her age, and her legs had just the right tone. Jae was tempted to run his hand up from her knees to that forbidden place he shouldn't even have been looking at until he snapped out of his fantasy and went back to repairing the dock.
With each passing moment with Minju, Jae was all the more glad to hear that his little girl wanted to spend time with him alone on their vacation. He felt closer to her than ever, almost forgetting that they weren't the only people who'd made the drive until he heard his wife call them in for dinner.
Minju felt much the same way, starting to realize the fact that she'd be out of the house for college soon and no longer able to spend time with her dad like she loved doing. She felt truly bad that she'd be leaving her dad without anybody but her mother to keep him company. Their relationship wasn't awful, but it was strained over the last few years and Minju was worried that her Dad would be lonely without her around. He was such a good man; he didn't deserve all of the nagging that her mother subjected him to, especially since he was the one working so hard to provide for everybody. She intended to be really good to her dad this weekend, so if nothing else they both remembered her last summer as fondly as possible. She held his hand as they walked back up to the house, smiling at him and looking into his eyes intently while he gazed back.
Later that night, as Minju was helping her mother do the dishes, Eunju brought up her friend's son Sun-woo again. After the same spiel about him being good husband material and respectful and such, Minju got to speak:
"Mom, I don't know if I even like him, And even if I did, what am I supposed to do about it?"
"Minju, I'm not saying you have to fall in love with him. I'm just telling you that you'd do well to figure out what a good man is like—a good man who respects women and will make good money to provide for your family—like Sun-woo."
"Ooookayyyy," Minju responded, "And what about him? How do I know he'll like me back?"
"Well you can start by behaving, not fighting with your brother, and doing your chores when asked while the Son's are around. But all men like different things, why don't you ask your daddy? You two seem to be getting along all buddy-buddy today I'm sure he can tell you how to talk to Sun-woo."
Minju's mother seemed to be done with that conversation, and it couldn't have come sooner. Essentially, she was just done telling her daughter about how great this boy was and she'd made up her mind about whether he was good enough for her daughter. 'Why don't you just be with him or something,' Minju thought, imagining how that would leave her dad's attention almost entirely to her. She felt guilty about wishing ill on her mother, but certainly wouldn't mind being the center of her dad's world.
So, later that night, when their mother had gone to bed and Do-yun was off somewhere talking to a girl on the phone, Minju decided to talk to her dad about getting boys' attention.
As usual, Minju pulled her knees up tight and tucked under her father's arm on a couch on the screened-in porch.
"Hey Dad?" she started when there was a quiet moment.
"Yes, sweetie?" Jae replied. Minju loved the deep sound of his voice and the way that he was so calm and ponderous as he looked out over the lake.
"So… I was talking to Mom today, and she brought up that boy again," Minju told him
"Big surprise there," Jae said with a note of attitude. Minju giggled.
"I asked her how to make a boy like me and she said…"
"Wait," Jae interrupted, "let me guess: ask your daddy?"
"Yup," replied Minju as she looked up at her dad.
"Well, what do you want to know?"
Minju thought for a minute, "How do I talk to him?"
It might have seemed like a simple question to Jae, but he understood why his little girl would ask it.
"Hmmm…" Jae started, "Well to be honest, you don't need to do much more than you do with me. Ask him questions about himself, tell him what you're interested in, and definitely smile. You know you have a pretty smile right?"
As intended, Jae saw a big smile on his daughter's face. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his arm, and he pulled her in tight.
"Just be yourself, honey, and don't worry about being chatty; let the conversation come naturally."
"I'd rather just talk to you than some dumb boy that Mom is pushing on me!" Minju complained.
"Well I can't do much to help you with your mother, but you can talk to me whenever you like Minju'," Jae assured his teenager.
They were quiet for a moment. Minju didn't really feel like she needed to talk to anyone on this vacation other than her dad. And just like he said, the conversation came naturally; yet she could just be silent in his arms, and it felt perfectly alright.
"Do you think he'll be attracted to me?"
"Ha," Jae laughed, then looked down at his little girl to see a confused look on her face. "Oh don't worry sweetie, I only laugh because I'd be shocked if he didn't."
"What do you mean daddy?" Minju asked innocently. He couldn't tell if she was feigning innocence or not.
"Minju, not all girls your age look the way you do…" Jae said, seeing that his daughter still didn't fully understand. He was glad to have a few beers in him, otherwise the words might not have come as easily. "You see… you are a very pretty girl, you have a lot of… features that boys… and men find attractive."
Minju was surprised her father was being so candid with her, and yet she was positively flattered. Jae's eighteen-year-old hadn't really considered that her father might find her pretty, but here he was admitting it to her. Minju felt an inexplicable urge to prop herself up, smooth out her top, and not slouch so much like she needed to live up to her father's image of her or something. It was a similar feeling to the way she felt when she'd caught a boy on the football team staring at her from the sideline, except she was more nervous with her dad. The tiny brunette felt slightly confused about her feelings.
"I think you're just saying that because you have to Daddy," Minju protested, "If I wasn't your daughter I bet you wouldn't."
Jae laughed again, "If you weren't my daughter I'd probably be saying something much different."
Jae almost put his hands to his mouth, thinking that if he moved fast enough, he could stop the words from blurting out. But it was too late; his daughter had already heard them. Thankfully, she didn't look too taken aback; she couldn't truly know what he'd meant by the beer-induced slip of the tongue.
Minju just let the words hang in the air, which made her father anxious to know if she'd read into them. Looking down at her beneath his arm, Jae knew his confession had been completely truthful, but hearing himself say it aloud was a strange feeling. Even harder to grasp was the deep, welling feeling in his chest as Minju smiled at him unassumingly. God did he love his beautiful daughter, thought Jae. The promise of spending two weeks with her close at hand was a most rewarding thought. If he could just keep his more inappropriate thoughts at bay, Jae knew this vacation would be one to remember.
He didn't know what time it was when the two of them had finally drifted off to sleep, but he certainly remembered Minju whispering that she loved him as her eyes closed and her tight little body began to go limp at his side. The moon shone bright, and crickets were abuzz when he opened his eyes again and decided to carry Minju to bed.
Jae was intimately aware, as he picked up his slumbering daughter, that she was still wearing that damned bikini. As he lifted Minju and found himself unable to adjust his hands without waking her, Jae felt his hand securely palming one soft cheek of Minju's butt. Obviously, he hadn't intended it yet couldn't help savoring the feeling of her teen bottom.
Jae's mind wandered as he carried the sleeping brunette carefully through the cabin and upstairs to her room. He was thinking of his favorite position: the wife riding him and his hands aggressively holding her ass while she did… man did Jae wish it hadn't been so long since he and Eunju had sex like that. There was no helping it as the image of Minju in his wife's place crossed his mind. He doubted his little girl had ever done anything like that; she better not have. But, as rambunctious as she was Minju would probably be sexier atop him than his wife. Jae would certainly enjoy finding out.
'Damnit!' Jae chastised himself, 'you're her father for Christ's sake. Not only would a stunning young eighteen-year-old like Minju never want a man like you, but it's incest.' Jae resolved not to think any more of the subject if he could help it. But that word, that act, the image of making love to his beautiful daughter ,and the thought of her naked and moaning for him… As he set her down on the bed and pulled the sheets over her enticing figure, Jae wondered if he could keep his composure for an entire week of watching her frolic around wearing hardly anything.
Jae's head hit the pillow, and he drifted off to sleep more easily than he'd expected. Minju, just upstairs in her room above the master bedroom, was equally curious about the days to come. She hardly ever slept through the many times her father had taken her to bed, so the place where her father's hand had rested tingled gently and lulled her to sleep with a heavy feeling in her heart.
"Morning, Daddy!" Minju said cheerfully, wrapping her arms around her father's shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. The smell of her father's body wash and that cup of coffee in his hand opposite the newspaper would always be her favorite thing to wake up to.
"Morning, little one," Jae replied, "There's coffee there if you want it, and I got some donuts from that bakery you guys like."
"Mmmm…" Minju said, carefully selecting the maple one she'd fallen in love with a few years ago and taking a bite, "Jeez Dad, it's vacation. You must have been up at six or something. Can't you ever sleep in?"
"I'll get all the sleep I need when I'm dead." was Jae's retort.
Minju gasped, "Don't say that Dad!" She padded over to him and hugged him almost too tightly around the neck. Minju never could stand even the suggestion of being without her dad.
Jae playfully hooked his youngest around the waist and whipped her around so she was sitting on his lap. Her little butt just seemed to fit so perfectly atop him, though they never seemed to do it when anyone else was around. Jae pulled Minju quickly toward him and snuck a kiss. He could taste the sweetness of maple frosting on her lips, and feel his daughter smiling through the kiss because she knew it. Minju pulled back an inch or so, slowly. She felt a little cross-eyed but still wore an adorable grin on her face as she peered into her father's eyes. Those beautiful blues, her father thought, he hardly even knew where they came from in her heritage, and yet there they were staring back at him mesmerizingly. A few charming freckles decorated the tops of Minju's cheeks, no doubt more plentiful due to all the time she spent in the sun against his wishes. He could only admire her for so long until it became inappropriate to remain so intimately close.
They broke apart finally, and thank god because Minju's mother came trudging loudly into the kitchen. She was annoyed about something as per usual, but Minju and her father remained content to tune her out as she bitched about 'Minju's already messy room.' Father and daughter shared a few loving glances as Eunju mouthed off, each wondering if the other was experiencing the same blooming admiration.
But when Eunju called Minju a brat for whatever she'd been ranting about, Jae refused to be silent. "You know what Eunju, that's enough."
Everyone was quiet for a second.
"This is my vacation, and that is our daughter." He wasn't yelling; Jae's words were calm and commanding.
"It is the first fu…" Minju watched as her father paused to collect himself. She was smitten by his self-control. "It is the first morning of our vacation, and you can't help yourself trying to ruin it for everyone."
Eunju scoffed. She was speechless, but not because she was surprised. Jae could see it in her face that she knew he was right.
"Minju," Jae said in a tempered tone, "Would You Do me a favor and keep your room reasonably better than your usual disaster area?"
The troublemaking brunette shrugged bashfully and shook her head in compliance. She quickly padded off to respect her father's wishes. She could hear her parents arguing downstairs, but her father quickly put the issue to bed.
As Minju closed her door behind her and flopped back onto her bedspread, she realized she was positively taken by the way her dad had stood up for her. Something in her wanted to go down there, wrap her whole body around him, and kiss him a thousand times. Minju doubted her mother would appreciate that very much; she'd have to wait until they were alone again.
The argument blew over eventually, but not without some obvious sulking by Eunju as the family set about their first day on vacation. By the time they got out on the water, Eunju had cooled down and with a beer in her hand, she was actually quite pleasant. Minju didn't even mind when she brought up the boy stuff again.
"So…" she prodded, "did you ask your dad about talking to boys?"
"Yeeeesss mother," Minju replied.
"And? What did he say?"
"He told me to talk to boys like I do with him. And to be myself, and a few other helpful things." Minju answered, recalling some of the more interesting parts of her time alone with her father.
"Good, good!" Eunju said, obviously excited that her husband had gotten on board with the plan. That's not what Jae had intended to do, and Minju certainly didn't plan on using any of his pointers on the pompous guy she'd met that one time her mother invited him over. But, if it made her mom happy, Minju would pretend for a while.
"Do you have any more questions?" Minju's mother asked.
The teenager looked to where her father was driving the boat; he obviously couldn't hear them with the wind whipping past as he moved.
"Well, I asked him how to talk to boys, but that's not all there is."
Minju's mother furrowed her brow and then smiled, knowing that she was asking for more intimate details.
"You're right about that one, Minju," her mother said with an intoxicated grin,
"So…? " Minju asked. What about when you're talking and you want to show a man, I mean boy, that you're interested… like physically?"
"Well first of all, and this goes without saying, you are only eighteen and you should absolutely not be having sex, so don't even think about it." There was the mom Minju knew, and obviously a liquored-up one for so freely talking about sex.
"Getting pregnant at your age can happen like 'that'," she said snapping her fingers. "And if it's not with the person you plan to live forever, it isn't going to work out too well for you. Which is why I haven't put you on the pill, so you don't get any ideas…"
"MOM!" Minju interrupted, "Stop. I won't have sex okay? I didn't mean that. I just meant like flirting and stuff!"
Minju really hadn't been thinking about being pregnant, but thoughts of sex had definitely entered her mind recently. She was a virgin, but Minju didn't feel totally clueless. Sure, she'd hardly done more than kiss a boy at a sleepover her parents didn't know there would be boys at, but she'd picked up a few things and obviously knew how it worked. The young teenager knew from friends that sex was a very significant thing and most of them said that they absolutely loved it. Minju just simply hadn't ever been in a situation where it felt right, and she wasn't going to force it with somebody she didn't care about completely.
She wanted to know more, like what men like about sex and how could she become good at it. What did it feel like? What is foreplay exactly… a million questions rattled around in her head. Needless to say, her interest was piqued, but she obviously couldn't ask her mom about it - maybe her dad?
"Well, to be honest," her mother started, loosening up a bit, "your dad was my first and last boyfriend, so I only know what he likes."
Eunju saw curiosity in her daughter's eyes so she continued, "he always loved laying side by side, spooning, but you be careful doing that with a boy because they can get carried away easily! And having his hair played with, right around the front of his hairline."
The information tickled Minju. It was funny to hear about her dad like that.
"Let's see…what else… he gets very bashful but excited about showing any kind of affection in public: running my fingers on his arm or leg, or whispering in his ear when nobody else can see. Your body language can tell a lot to a man. Tell him you want him, or that you don't." Minju had a feeling that her dad had become accustomed to the latter of the two, and again she felt sad for him. "Alright Mom, no more, please!" Minju said, laughing and imploring her mother to quit embarrassing her.
The inexperienced teen was fascinated, it seemed she knew very little about how to work her way into a man's heart. It was strange to her, however, that she already did some of the things her mother was describing when she was around her dad. Minju guessed that she didn't have to work for a spot in her dad's heart and most of it was just natural dad and daughter stuff. She wondered if the same things would work on the boy who would visit in a few days, not that she really wanted to try it.
Jae noticed the ponderous grin that Minju had on as he looked back at her. He didn't know what the two girls had been talking about, but he was glad to see that it hadn't ended like their first conversation that morning. He was starting to feel like his thoughts were becoming a broken record, but as he gazed back at his daughter Jae was again struck by her beauty.
She didn't wear the undersized bathing suit from the day before, this time opting for a beautiful bra-style lime green bikini. It pushed her teenage breasts up wonderfully and supported them so that they bounced each and every time the boat hit a wave. Her skinny little hips were hugged by matching bottoms, with a bow on each side where they tied up to keep from falling off.
Jae wondered what he might see if they did. He certainly didn't see his young daughter in the bathtub anymore; what if one of the carefully tied bows came undone and the green bottoms fell to her feet? A small part of him guessed that she would be shaven and smooth.
'Damnit,' Jae thought, wondering what was causing his thoughts to stray so consistently to inappropriate imaginings of his own little girl. He knew she was far from little anymore, evidenced by the way he was picturing her as he watched her stretch out with her arms over her head in the back of the boat. But why was she now becoming a different kind of object of his love? Perhaps it was how she was smiling at him, as she did when she caught his eye in the rearview mirror. Or maybe it was the thought of losing her to a distant home in college, missing a chance to explore the curious change that had manifested in the time before she left. And likely, talking about more adult themes with Minju was not only getting him on the topic, but also thinking about his daughter in the same context.
With the way she looked in her swimsuit… tan skin looking warm and inviting to his wandering eyes and anxious fingers… breasts tucked snugly into each cup of her top and large enough to make her father proud of what he'd made… He wondered what would happen if he just went back to her and pulled the ribbon of the cute green bows holding her suit on and exposing her sexy little body in front of her mother, brother, and most importantly - her increasingly interested father. Something told him that was not a great idea, and Jae was scolding himself yet again as he cast his eyes away from Minju in hopes of quelling the desire he had felt. In the back of his mind, Jae was hoping to have another night with his baby after everyone else had gone to bed. He didn't intend to act on any of his fantasies… 'Absolutely not,' he promised himself, but having the beautiful teenager in his company was reason enough to be excited.
The sunset couldn't come soon enough, and then there was the obligatory family time on the screened-in, and finally, the exchange of excuses for going to bed or staying up, as Minju and Jae each anticipated their alone time.
"Wanna go and sit on the dock Dad? The moon is really pretty tonight." Minju asked after she and her father had shared a moment of unspoken admiration and eye contact.
"Sure honey," Jae replied, trying not to sound too eager. "Don't you think you're going to be a little chilly out there?" They both looked at her in a small pair of pink cotton shorts and loose loose-fitting spaghetti-strap top. There was no sign of a bra, and yet her young globes were perky as ever underneath.
"Well," replied Jae's underdressed young daughter, "we can grab a blanket, and then I have you of course! You're always so warm Daddy, you should have enough heat for both of us."
Her voice was sweet and innocent. but both father and daughter were assigning a deeper meaning to Minju's words in their own minds. As Jae watched his little brunette trot over to the sliding glass door of the house and slip inside for a blanket, his eyes fell upon her long, tan legs. He wouldn't mind keeping her warm and, in turn, feeling the smooth skin of her calves and feet rubbing against him under a blanket.
That's just how things played out after Minju came back out and they walked with Jae's arm slung casually around his baby's waist. Minju shivered when she felt the hem of her shirt ride up and her father's rough, masculine hands come into contact with her skin. Neither of them missed that, nor did they fail to enjoy the intimate, if unintended, contact. But then Jae sat down first on the large bench at the end of the dock and Minju followed shortly after, Before Jae pulled the blanket over them, his daughter slung her legs over his and pulled his arm around her tight.
For a few quiet moments, they sat together and listened to the sounds of the peaceful lake. There was a lot going on in both of their minds. Minju always loved the sound of water lapping at the dock below, but at that moment she was more focused on the strong heartbeat in her father's chest. She was snuggled up so close that it felt like it was thudding right against her breast. Jae could feel his daughter's chest rising and falling in her cradled position at his side. Her legs felt even better than he'd imagined as she fidgeted to get comfortable and rubbed her legs along the length of his.
"Can I tell you a secret dad?"
"Of course, you can," replied Jae.
"This is my favorite part of the day. I've been looking forward to everyone else going to bed for hours now." Minju was looking right into his eyes for approval.
"That's sweet honey," Jae said, then paused. "I've been looking forward to this since I put you to bed last night."
Minju leaned in even closer to her father in thanks, quieted by flattery.
"Can I just a few more questions like last night Dad?" Minju requested, laying it on thick.
"Don't you know the answer to that by now Minju'? Of course, you can," Jae was careful to hide his eagerness. "I saw you and your mother talking again today, how'd that go?
"Oh, fine," Minju told him. She didn't get mad at me, which was nice. I was just asking her a few things about flirting and stuff, and she told me a little, but I wanted to know more. She told me to ask you again."
It was adorable the way Minju sometimes spoke in streams of consciousness, her father thought.
"So… shoot." Her father urged her.
"Okay, well… how will I know when I like a boy enough to be in a relationship, and how will I know he likes me?"
"Hmm… coming out of the gates with a hard one huh?" Jae rubbed his chin and Minju noticed the stubble on it; her father always looked so manly with his 5 o'clock shadow.
"Honestly, it's a pretty obvious feeling when you realize you're with somebody you want to get to know romantically. You'll get close and want to touch and feel each other; it's an inexplicable feeling, almost like a big magnet is pulling you towards her or something."
Somehow, that made a lot of sense to Minju She thought it was kind of funny how her father had switched to talking about 'her,' like he was imagining a scenario instead of teaching her about something. Jae felt his teenager shift her bare legs around like she was trying to tangle up in his even more than she already was. He wished she would stop because he couldn't help that the added touching was making not only his heart beat deeply, but his pants stir in response. 'Stop it,' he chastised himself.
As Jae went on, Minju listened intently. Her father told her how it was important to have a mutual attraction to each other, how imbalance could cause problems in a relationship, and how becoming more intimate required time and comfort with her partner. When Minju reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, Jae felt like he would tell her anything she wanted to hear at that moment.
"I feel kind of dumb asking this," Minju started with the most innocent care in her voice, "but I don't really know what you mean about being more intimate. Like, say I want to do that with this kid mom's pushing me, what would I do?"
This felt off-limits. Jae knew he should avoid discussing intimacy and his attractive young daughter in detail. But suddenly, he felt a pang of jealousy and the spark of competition, which caused him to overlook his reservations.
"First of all," Jae said with a noticeable edge, "I resent that your mother is making you think you owe this boy some kind of attention. You don't."
Minju thought she might have crossed a line with her father; he seemed jumpy at the topic, and it made her feel curiously anxious. Jae decided to backtrack a bit:
"But…." he resumed, pulling Minju close and making her feel more at ease with the conversation. There are a lot of things involved when it comes to flirting. Some of it you'll just do without thinking about it."
Minju wondered if her dad's gesture of running his fingers up and down her side but over her shirt was meant as an example of what he was saying.
"Of course, there's always touching with your fingers. Men and women have all kinds of spots that well… turn them on. Do you know what that means?"
"Duh Dad!" Minju blurted, "I don't live under a rock."
"Okay, okay," Jae felt so at ease with his little girl; their chemistry was undeniable. "So you know then that there are some obvious spots that we won't talk about because you're eighteen, and I won't pretend you're as innocent as you look." And despite glossing over them, both Jae and Minju's eyes darted down to the blanket, at each other's respective 'spots.'
They both noticed the glance when their eyes met again, and Minju choked out a laugh. It was inappropriate to acknowledge, but Jae couldn't help joining his teenager in giggling about the unspoken awkwardness.
"But there are other things too," Jae continued, feeling his daughter quiet and her giggling stop after a time, "like what you're doing with my hair right now."
Minju bit her lip adorably and continued messing about with her father's thick, dark strands.
"So you know about touching the hair… neck is a big one." As he said it, Jae took his free hand and made a 'V' with his thumb and forefinger on his daughter's neck. As soon as he touched her there, Minju held her breath. He followed the path of the stunned brunette's collarbone with his fingers until just low enough to feel the beginnings of her mounded breasts. When he finally lifted from her chest, Minju was able to take a breath.
Her whole body felt numb. 'Oh my God that was crazy,' Minju thought to herself. She couldn't believe how one simple motion by her father had made her feel so wholly consumed by his touch.
Jae didn't have to ask. He had felt his little girl's reaction, and he knew she understood.
"And the way that you're sliding your legs around honey," her dad acknowledged, "you better be careful with those things, they're dangerous."
Minju blushed and retreated deeper into her father's hold. She was buzzing with thoughts and feelings she felt totally unfamiliar with. She hadn't expected the conversation with her father to go this way, but was glad where they'd ended up. Still, after the way her dad had commented on Minju rubbing her legs again his, she didn't like that he had since curbed the attention he'd been paying her. Jae was trying his best not to take their 'lesson' too far, and Minju had noticed. She decided to push her luck a bit.
"Is that it Dad? I mean Sun-woo might like some of that, but so far you've only told me about using my fingers in his hair and rubbing my legs on him. I'm already doing that with you, so that can't be everything!"
Even though Jae had fully recognized the inappropriateness of what he and his teenage daughter were doing, he forgot himself again to protective instinct. Minju was his own daughter, and she wasn't to be peddled off to some boy she didn't care about. He was right there, obviously madly in love with her, and more than willing to help her understand what being intimate with a man meant.
Surprising her, Jae pulled Minju from her seated position beside him directly into one on top of his lap. Knowing that his cock had gotten unintentionally hard from all the suggestive talk, Jae made sure to slide her so that his erection was tucked behind her and not right up into her thin shorts. When she came to rest, Jae could feel the sexy eighteen-year-old waiting expectantly for his next move.
She felt so perfect in his lap. Her cute little butt was cupped by his larger lower half. He'd seen her youthful and round cheeks enough times to make his head spin while she frolicked about in her swimsuit earlier in the day, but feeling it against him was far better.
"It's not always as simple as touching; it matters how you do it too." Jae taught, "Do you want me to show you?"
As he asked the question, her father gently placed both hands on Minju's hips. She was spellbound completely submitted to her father.
"Mhhh hmm." Minju granted.
Jae slowly but decisively grabbed hold of his daughter's hips. She immediately found herself arching her back as his thumbs dug into the dimples of her lower back. His fingers came in contact with her hipbones as he massaged her backside. Minju couldn't help herself from forcing her butt further into her father's lap. Jae knew where things could head from there. If he followed his most primal instincts, he would have slid his hands up her sides and finally taken her teenage breasts into his palms while grinding back into her. He felt compelled to, instead of stopping, wrap his thumbs around her waistband and slide her shorts down those thin legs so she was bottomless for him.
Minju mewwed. Nobody had ever touched her like that before. There was that. But nobody had ever made her feel quite so desirable either, and that was before she had even propped up on her father's lap. Now Minju was pining for her father's touch and she didn't have the capacity left to consider why. She could only press harder into him and hope he wouldn't stop.
For a few moments their suggestive contact continued. Minju wasn't exactly grinding her ass onto her father's cock, and Jae wasn't technically giving his attractive young daughter more than a lower back massage, so it seemed alright.
"Just so you know, lips are one of the most important things to pay attention to," Jae said, speaking quietly now into Minju's ear.
"Obviously I won't actually kiss you, but getting close works too." As he spoke, Jae placed his mouth at the nape of his daughter's neck. While he was speaking, Minju could feel her dad's breath caressing her skin; she didn't completely agree that he shouldn't kiss her.
Minju's hips moved on their own, as did her arms as they stretched above her and backward. With her tiny frame splayed out in his lap and his head in her neck, Jae was treated to an uninhibited view of his daughter's breasts within her shirt. He didn't want to stare too long, but his eyes stayed put regardless. He could just make out the pink circle around her nipple, the moon was so bright it lit her naked front up just for him. When her hands came into contact with the back of his neck and the sensitive spot in his hair, Jae thought he might lose his reserve.
"Oh god Daddy," Minju cooed. Her father's hands were tight on the soft spot of her pelvis and beginning to urge her hips back and forth at a very slow but noticeable pace.
"What Minju'?"
"Don't stop, I like that," said his little girl.
It felt incredible, and the young teenager in front of him was the girl he loved most in the world, let alone the most incredible beauty. But hearing her ask him to continue was too familiar, the only time he'd heard that Jae had soon heard a girl crying his name as he made love to her. He couldn't do that with Minju. As much as we wanted to rip the skimpy clothing from her youthful body and show her the full extent of what she wanted to know, he simply couldn't. Though he was hard as ever and feeling Minju's plump little butt gyrate against his cock, he just couldn't do more.
"I think you've learned enough for one night…I think it's time for bed," Jae said, in an attempt to put an end to things.
Minju froze. She was stunned. Her daddy had started all of the touching and she didn't think it was fair for him to stop now. But maybe he didn't want to continue, maybe he was only teaching her like she'd asked. After all, she had asked, not him. Minju felt sad that her dad was removing his hands from her and obviously expecting her to follow suit. Minju felt heat inside her body that she'd never felt before.
"Do we NEED to go in Dad?" Minju tried in one last effort to continue.
She felt her father close his hands around her hips and squeeze tightly once more. She squealed because he pressed so hard around her hipbones that he hit a pressure point or something.
"Yes honey," Jae said when finally lifting his daughter off his lap. He looked down to see that her shorts had ridden up, as well as her shirt. If he'd looked any closer he would have seen that between his baby girl's legs was a wet spot caused by the feelings he'd brought out in her.
Minju walked mindlessly next to her father on the way back into the house. She was lucky to have his hand wrapped around her waist and guiding her or she might have wandered off the dock and into the dark water. Both of them were glad for the renewed contact, even if it was far from the distance they were silently hoping to go.
"Do you want to have some you-and-me time again tomorrow?" Minju's heart skipped a beat when she heard her father ask it.
She simply looked up with big puppy-dog eyes and nodded at him. Jae loved the way she bit her lip and lifted her shoulders like she was embarrassed to say yes.
Minju grabbed at her dad's shoulders to get him to lean down so she could kiss him. Usually, it was just a short kiss and goodnight. This time, both father and daughter lingered a few seconds before connecting. They just sensed each other, and the hesitation felt right. Then Minju stood on her tiptoes and brought her lips to her dad's. It didn't last too long, but it sure felt different.
When they broke, both were silent; the quiet felt natural. As Jae watched his little girl open her bedroom door, he got one more good look at the ridiculous night-clothes she was wearing. When the door closed, he was tortured to know if she'd be taking them off. Minju was hesitant to even allow the thought, but as she began to undress she wished she wasn't doing it herself.
Both Minju and Jae went to bed staring at the ceiling. They were so in-tune with each other that their thoughts were practically the same.
Minju swore at herself for being so careless with her dad. He was only doing what she'd asked. He'd never do any of those things for real with her. And yet, she was pretty sure she'd felt a stiffness in his pants when she'd gotten the chance to wiggle her butt around on him. And his hands weren't just showing her where to touch, they were touching her deeply. She felt bad for her dad, that he probably hadn't gotten the chance to touch her mother like he had with her. And Minju certainly didn't mind letting him do so with her, in fact her only wish was that he'd show her more.
Jae resolved not to take one more step with Minju. It was no use beating himself up for being aroused by the eighteen-year-old's perfect body… or those soft, shapely breasts… or the graspable bottom that he'd felt grinding backward into his lap. Damnit, he couldn't even keep his thoughts contained long enough to scold himself. He had to be indifferent, he had to cut out the temptation and be a good father. But she'd practically begged him to continue; how was he going to keep saying no. How could he deny her when he now lay in bed wishing that he'd just kept going, that he'd gotten his hands all over the fully naked and willing teenager that happened to be his daughter.
They both fell asleep within a couple of minutes of each other despite the separate rooms.
Sleeping it off turned out to be a good thing. Jae and Minju both awoke without the intoxication of each other to cloud their judgment. Minju didn't see her dad until she had already showered and come downstairs for breakfast.
"Think you and your brother are up for going into town today?" Minju's mother asked.
"Sure, Mom," she replied, grabbing some bacon from the plate on the countertop. " What time?"
"Soon," replied her mother, "but you can take your time and eat your breakfast first."
Minju sat down next to her dad, looking for his eyes to be directed her way but not finding them. Jae flinched when she accidentally brushed her leg against his. Nobody could know that he'd done a hell of a lot more the night before with his eighteen-year-old daughter, but he felt skittish nonetheless. Minju was admittedly confused by her dad's behavior.
He warmed up, though, and when her mom and brother let Minju sit shotgun on the way to town, the two lovebirds were soon chatting and talking as normal. His eyes had this new kind of familiarity in them. Minju felt like he was continually acknowledging a secret between them, and each time, it made her heart jump beneath her breast.
Even better was when her mother and brother Do-yun wanted to stay and listen to a gathering at the main crossroads.
"Minju and I will go pick up a few of those toiletries we forgot at the convenience store while you guys do… this," he said, motioning at whatever was going on with disinterest. Minju was on board. The guy talking sounded stuffy and looked like one of her old history teachers.
While they were walking, Jae watched his youngest skip around restlessly in her jean shorts and baseball shirt. Of course, she'd tied the shirt up to show off her tummy and the ring on her bellybutton that she was so proud of. She looked cute as ever, and he expected nothing less.
There was some horseplay between the two as they perused the aisles of the store. Jae got what he thought he was supposed to, but wasn't really paying too much attention. Minju kept coming up behind and trying to knock him down by bending his knee suddenly on the side he was leaning to. She got close a few times, but mostly he just let her continue because he liked feeling her chest press against him and her tiny hand on his forearm when she did it.
"What are you looking at now?" Jae asked, seeing his daughter stopped a spot on the aisle in front of him.
When he got closer, he saw and whoosh of breath escaped his mouth as he realized.
"What are you doing over here," Jae asked, much more quietly now, not wanting to call attention to the fact that he was standing with his eighteen-year-old daughter in the condom aisle.
"I dono," Minju said bashfully, "I just haven't ever seen one before… I wouldn't know how to use one."
Jae didn't have an answer for her, but somehow he wasn't surprised at what he heard next.
"Mom definitely won't teach me about this…" she paused, then looked his way with those damned big blue eyes pleading, "…will you daddy?"
"Wha… no I coul…. no way…" Jae stuttered. Minju thought it was funny that she'd caught her dad off guard.
"Relax, Dad," she said, hand on his arm again. It's not like I plan on needing one or anything."
"Honey I don't know…. I don't think I sho…hmmm…" Jae was unprepared for this.
"Please daddy?"
"Can't you ask one of your friends or something?" He attempted.
"My friends that are boys?" Minju asked suggestively.
"No!" Jae had to catch himself and lower his volume to prevent anyone from noticing him and his daughter, who had now taken a pack of condoms in her hand and was flipping the box around. "No, you better not!" he said, feeling oddly protective again.
"Come on daddy please?" Minju was getting louder now, the little brat. "Won't you teach me how to use a condom?"
"Minju shushhh!" Jae cautioned.
"You don't want your little girl getting pregnant, do y…mphhh" Minju couldn't finish because her dad had reached out and covered her mouth and that teasing little smirk she had on it when she was goading him.
"Cut it out," he said as he looked down at her and then around the store. She could tell by the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth that her dad wasn't actually mad, but she decided not to test him anymore.
"Fine," he said, "I'll get them but you have got to go stand outside. I can't be seen buying condoms with my beautiful eighteen-year-old right next to me."
"Nobody knows I'm your daughter, DAD," she replied with inflection but then being much quieter, "and it's not like you're buying them to have sex with me either!"
Jae flinched for the second time that day; a pang of guilt that he didn't intend struck him. Just the thought of buying a condom around his pretty teenager and that incredible body she'd been dangling in front of him put two opposing themes together in his mind. Sex…his daughter…sex…. his daughter. No, he couldn't allow the thought that the box of condoms in his pocket were for anything other than education. He certainly wasn't going to give them to his little girl so she could try them out on someone else. No… he'd teach her what she needed to know, but nothing more.
Jae was considering how to go about showing his daughter how a condom works without crossing any lines when his wife and son found them again. Minju surprised him right before they joined up by shoving her hand down into his pocket. She pushed the box down further; it must have been showing.
"I don't think we want mom or Do-yun seeing those, huh?" Minju suggested.
"You've got a point there Minju'," Jae responded.
While they watched Eunju approach, Minju hooked her fingers on her father's belt and stood up to speak in his ear. Jae was immediately nervous that his wife might perceive the contact as strange but determined it was only because of the box he had in his pocket.
"I'm really curious. Can you teach me about these tonight when Mom goes to bed?" Minju asked sweetly.
"Sure sweetie," Jae said quickly, giving her a playful shove with his shoulder in hopes that he might shift her from the suggestive position. Of course, Minju made sure to let her chest brush against her father's side plenty before she returned to her spot at his side.
"What did you two get?" Eunju asked them, holding a bag of her own.
Minju quickly looked up at her dad, raised her eyebrows and smiled. 'She is just the worst!' thought Jae as he saw the knowing glance from his brunette teenager.
"Got everything you had on the list," responded Jae, wondering if there was any hint of a lie in his voice.
"And a few things you didn't!" sang Minju.
Jae tried hard not to look stunned as his eyes darted down to his little girl. But then Minju brought a candy bar to her mouth and crunched off the tip while still looking at him and Jae breathed easy.
He was starting to wonder how he was going to deflect the trouble they were stirring up with all this somewhat inappropriate interaction. Jae tried to remind himself of the promise not to let things go any further with Minju. Looking down at her, seeing the cute face he'd grown to love so much and further down the alluring, bare skin at her stomach, Jae worried about how hard keeping that promise would be.
But things just always seemed to work out for him. Nobody noticed a thing. Not one sideways glance from his wife or prying eye from an onlooker. Even when he wrapped his hand around Minju's waist, fulfilling his aching desire to touch the bare skin of her stomach - nothing. Jae surmised he was just being paranoid, which wasn't exactly a bad thing, but at least he could relax and enjoy his beautiful teenager's company.
"Hey Dad, stay there for just a second," Minju directed without explanation.
They'd walked into a local shop and the family was mulling about the store. Minju seemed to always stay close to her father, which Jae was glad of. He didn't like having her out of his sight for some reason, probably because she was so damned fun to look at.
But then he watched as his little one crossed her arms over her head and pulled off her shirt in one swift motion. She was cornered by a couple of clothing racks, but certainly not enough to just disrobe in the middle of the store!
"Minju what are you…" Jae started and then stopped, seeing that his daughter had pulled her bra off as well. She was turned away from him but he definitely got a clear view from behind of her perfect breasts jiggling free of the bra. He quickly moved closer to her to protect anybody else from seeing.
"You can't just do that!" He said in a hushed voice, watching his wife to be sure she wasn't looking their way.
"Oh, don't be such a tight-ass dad," she replied, "what do you think?
Jae turned around to find his daughter pulling a dark tank top down around her stomach. It was cut low enough that he could already see her cleavage, and she hadn't even adjusted it yet. 'Damnit,' he thought, 'Why did she have to wear that? How did she know that he loved shirts like that?'
Her breasts even showed a little bit on the side, and Jae could make out a little nub where her nipple was. If he wasn't so incredibly turned on and still stunned that she'd changed right there in the store, he would have been pissed that she was wearing it at all.
"It's nice, honey. Why did you pick that, though?"
"No reason," Minju lied, "I guess I was a little warm and it looked comfy."
She'd done it because of what her mother had told her the day before. She knew her dad would like it, and she'd seen him stealing looks at her all day. When she finished pulling down the shirt over her upper body, it left a thin strip of skin just above her low-riding shorts, and Minju reached up to make sure her breasts looked good too.
When they were checking out, her mother asked, "Don't you think that shirt is a little revealing?"
"Relax, Mom," Minju said snidely. Nobody here knows me. And besides, I've got Dad to protect me if any boys come after me."
Jae rolled his eyes; his daughter was unbelievable. But then, he liked the thought that Minju was his to protect.
Once again, the day flew by. Jae had to fend off Minju reaching into his pocket to grab at the box of condoms in there for whatever reason she was doing it - probably to cause trouble. Always he was unsure whether she was intentionally positioning herself so that he could see down her shirt, or feel her little body against him or whatever other antics she decided to pull next. And always there was a building apprehension about how he should react. Certainly he wasn't supposed to feel turned on, but the erection he kept getting didn't seem to care one bit.
"Thank God!" Minju finally gasped after her mother had yawned and decided to turn in.
Suddenly, she was bubbly and full of energy again. As if some kind of switch had been flipped, Minju suddenly acted like it was okay for her to drape herself over her dad on the loveseat of the screened-in porch.
"I saw you and your mother talking again today; more life lessons?" Jae asked his daughter as he held her tight,
"I asked her about being pregnant, and she actually told me all about it," answered Minju. First, she told me I better not even dare think about it until I'm with a man who has a good career, and we're married and all our money is saved up… blah blah blah blah."
Jae laughed as he heard his daughter imitating Eunju and then felt her shake with a lovable giggle against his chest.
"You know she's not totally fully of it Minju, right?" Jae salvaged, "It can't be just anybody, you have to be sure you love each other and want to be together."
"I knoooow Dad, do you know how many times she's said that to me?"
"Okay, I'm just making sure," Jae relented, "So what else did she say?" "She said that it hurt, a lot!"
"There's no doubt about that, I was there when you came out and man was your mother screamin'!" Jae told.
"But she also said that it was wonderful too. Having a baby growing in her was incredible, it's what makes women so much better than men. You can't survive without us. Then she said to ask you about what it was like." Minju repeated.
"Yep, that sounds like your mom," Jae said with a roll of the eyes. "You know, a lot of couples say it's the best thing that ever happened between them - pregnancy."
"What do you mean?" Minju asked, sounding curious.
"Well, having a baby together is a big thing. It means you're committed to each other and to being together—most people would say forever. It means you love each other enough to raise a child."
Minju stayed quiet. She liked hearing her dad describe it that way; it sounded a lot more beautiful than the way her mother had. Minju knew from experience that he was a good dad, but he also made pregnancy sound like a wonderful thing for both partners.
"Everybody looks at it different I guess," Jae continued, feeling his daughter nuzzling him closer, "I guess I just romanticize it because I got such a beautiful daughter out of it."
Minju couldn't possibly have buried herself any deeper into her father's hold. She was so flattered she could just die. Jae was instantly struck to his center with enthralling happiness as he watched his daughter react physically to the compliment. He felt her body against him, saw her bite her lip the way she did, and then watched as she sat up and looked him straight in the eye. There was a few seconds of silence before Minju spoke.
"I love you so much, Dad… I can't even explain how much"
"I think I know how you feel," said Jae. "I love you too, Minju."
Minju hugged her dad again, trying to wrap her arms around him but finding his big shoulders too much to contain. Of course, Jae's arms encapsulated his daughter with more than enough to hold her and then some.
"Would it be too much to ask you to teach me some more Dad?" Minju requested as she pulled away from the long hug.
"Nope, fire away!"
"I know I'm not supposed to have sex. I'm not saying I want to," Minju reasoned, "I just don't want to feel dumb when all of my friends talk about it."
"So… " Jae prompted.
"Can you teach me about condoms?"
"Oh shit… those…" He'd totally forgotten for a moment, all the talk of pregnancy with his daughter had his brain doing that awful association dance again. And of course, his pants were threatening to tent as he wasn't exactly soft when thinking such troublesome thoughts. He was grateful, though, that he didn't have a noticeable erection so Minju didn't get any ideas.
"Yeah, I guess I can teach you," Jae agreed, seeing Minju sit up with excitement. He had to conceal his. "You're gonna have to go get something we can use as a prop. I'm pretty sure I saw some bananas your mother bought from the market."
Minju hadn't been sure what to expect, but she was suddenly disappointed. She didn't like the idea of using a prop, though she wasn't exactly going to suggest using the real thing.
"Better bring your dad a drink, too, I'm not equipped to show my eighteen-year-old daughter how to put on a condom without at least a couple fingers of scotch."
Minju was okay with that. But on her walk back into the house, she decided on a change of plan. She found the bananas right, but she didn't like the look of them. She quickly opened the trash and threw them in, shuffling things around so they weren't on top. She did the same thing with the cucumber in the fridge, and she pushed the tall jar of cherries to the very back, though she didn't think it would have worked anyway.
She opened a few drawers and tossed the ice cream scoop, a turkey baster, and some other weird tube-looking thing in a cabinet nobody would find. The kitchen wasn't very well equipped, so it didn't take long before Minju had covered all her bases. By the time she was done, the teenager realized her heart was racing. She quickly poured her dad a big glass of his favorite scotch with one ice cube before running up to her room to change.
.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Jae said, taking the glass over his shoulder that his daughter had put there after he heard her approach from behind him.
He took a long drink, finding quite a bit more scotch than necessary in the glass. Still, it warmed him just right. When he tilted the glass back, he sprayed the lingering fluid from his lips as he caught a glimpse of his daughter.
"Minju!"
She had changed again. This time it was simply unacceptable. She was wearing an incredible matching set of bra and panties. The bottoms were a sheer black boy-short style. He could see most of her hips and the 'v' between them, leading to a hardly substantial patch of opaque fabric that covered where her tiny opening would be. They were revealing enough for him to know that she shaved. The top was equally as striking, a dark black cup that left as much of her incredible, young breasts atop them as was possible. If he just pried toward him with a finger, her nipple was sure to be shown.
"What?" She said. Even his troublemaking little girl couldn't pretend she didn't know that what she was wearing was inappropriate.
"You can't wear that around me!" Jae chided, "Who am I kidding? You can't wear that around anyone!"
Minju looked hurt. Jae tried to look away. So much of his beautiful girl's body was on display for him. The shadows from a dimmed overhead light showed all the curves and tight spots of his daughter's tight little body. If there was an outfit that made her look sexier out there in the world, Jae had to see it. Indeed, he wanted to see her, and though he knew he should have sent her right back inside to wear an oversized t-shirt or anything more suitable, the words didn't come.
"Do you want me to change? Don't you like it?" Jae couldn't answer, "I never get to wear anything like this, Dad. It's not fair that I can't fool around with any boys or have sex or even wear things that make me feel sexy."
She had a point there, it seemed a crime not to let the beautiful, athletic, young brunette show off her absolutely incredible body. And he was lucky that she was showing it only to him; he couldn't trust anyone else to treat her the way she deserved with that outfit on.
Jae sighed, and Minju saw the way he tried to avert his eyes. It made her feel just the way she'd hoped.
"Alright…fine…just…" he was still taken aback, "It's not that I don't like it," Jae said, finding his words, "I do; you look beautiful, baby. It's just that I'm your dad, and I'm not supposed to see you like this. You're practically naked!"
"Not all the way naked, Dad. Do you want me to be?"
Jae couldn't believe his ears, "What? No! Why would you need to be naked?" He was trying to keep his voice down, but he was understandably excited.
"Well, it's just that I checked the entire kitchen and there's nothing to use for the condom."
"And…?" Jae begged of her,
"I don't know…" she said, looking innocent, "I thought maybe you could use a little encouragement."
Jae's eyes stayed wide.
"I thought maybe if I dressed up like this you might find me pretty enough for your 'penis' to get hard like it did yesterday," Minju whispered quietly when she said penis like somehow that was crossing a line. "I'm sorry I assumed, I guess I was wrong."
His daughter looked too gorgeous and yet too hurt for him not to reassure her.
"Honey, I didn't say you weren't pretty enough."
With that, his eyes found her body again, she had sat on the edge of the seat and was close enough that Jae's heart could feel the proximity. Minju was still staring down, pouting. He pinched at her side just below her bra and watched her well supported breasts shudder as she flinched. A small smile cracked on her lips but she clearly didn't want it to show.
"Come on, Minju. Don't be like that," he said, pulling her closer. She allowed him to do so, and he thought he felt her arch her back a little as she slid forward into the seat, but her body language still said she felt unwanted.
"I just have a hard time seeing you when you look like that because I'm not supposed to think my daughter looks sexy…" Jae knew he was walking a line, "…even if she does."
Minju finally looked up. She'd gotten what she wanted, or at least part of it. The other part was not so well hidden by a big bulge that she could see in her father's pants. Jae's hand came to rest on his daughter's side, just above the thin band at the waist of her bottoms. He wasn't shy about holding her either, and the way his fingers pushed against her skin was enough for Minju… for the moment.
"So you're telling me that there's nothing up there to use for me to teach you about these?" Jae said, grabbing the box of condoms out of his pocket. "This isn't just one of those 'I'm too lazy, I can't find it's type of things?"
"I swear, Daddy, I looked. You know there's not much in the kitchen."
He supposed she was right. He could have sworn there were bananas right next to the knife block, but he could be wrong. Jae took another swig of the cold liquor; it wasn't enough to get him near drunk, but as he started to weigh the options of how else to teach Minju about using protection, the choices didn't seem as taboo. But then, neither did the way his hand had started to massage around the soft skin above her hip.
Minju inhaled deeply, she would accept whatever attention her dad dared give her. She could feel his eyes on her, and responding to the way he was touching her, she rolled her hips and pushed out her chest so he could see her tits a little better.
It was working: the booze, the soft glow of the lights, the hum of night critters, and the enabling privacy of a father and daughter alone on the porch at night. It wouldn't be so bad if he just showed Minju what she was obviously implying. After all, it was teaching her about safe sex. He didn't even like the thought of her having sex with another man, but being pregnant by one he could not abide.
"Are you sure you know what you're asking Minju? Daughters aren't supposed to see their father's private parts on purpose."
"I know, Dad, but you're just teaching," she seemed to have the perfect response for everything, "It's okay, I know to keep it to myself. I just want to see."
The perfect response… the perfect body… the most perfect daughter that a man could ask for. Jae was content with their agreement as he tipped the remains of the glass into his mouth and savored the woodsy flavor of it. He had a little buzz, but maybe that was because he was anxious about what they were thinking of doing next.
Minju took the glass out of his hand and put it on the table. She looked ready for action and probably a little too eager.
"Okay, here goes nothing," said Jae, handing her the box, "You take out one of those, and I'll take out…"
The two of them chortled at the phrasing. Minju's hands were a little unsteady as she held the box and opened it. They were wrapped just like anything else, like candy or something, she thought amusingly.
Minju watched excitedly as her dad unbuckled his belt and fidgeted with the button, "Do you need me to do anything to make it hard…" Minju's jaw dropped.
Jae had decided not to prolong the act of revealing his cock to his daughter for fear that she, or more likely he, would change his mind before it could happen. As soon as he pushed the waist of the pants and underwear past the right spot, his staff sprung free.
He found himself smirking a bit as Minju took him in with a look of awe on her face. Indeed, she hadn't prepared herself for the actual sight of what she'd been asking for. But the way she was fidgeting around at the hips in her perched position, Jae was pretty sure she wouldn't ask him to stop.
"Yeah," Jae said knowingly, "I think you see now why I was worried about you wearing that outfit around me, Minju."
"Uh huh," sounded his daughter, swallowing deeply. "It's…bigger than I expected it to be."
Before he sat down Minju got a good look at the impressive length of her father's manhood and the way it stood at such an angle. From the one time or so that she'd accidentally seen her dad's penis after a shower, she couldn't believe how it looked so solid and straight. Her eyes never left it, even after her father took a seat next to her and tried to relax under her gaze. Jae decided it was fair, as he was silently memorizing each and every curve of his daughter's body.
"Well," he said, startling her, "should we move on to the next part, or do you just want to stare?"
"Oh, sorry, Dad! I just didn't know that it would already be full like that. How will this thing fit on there?" Minju asked, looking at the relatively small ring showing through the wrapper.
"Just hand me the condom, and by the way, that's what happens when my daughter gets almost naked around me, I can't help but think about her ACTUALLY naked."
"Ohh, I'm sorry I didn't know that's what you wanted," Minju apologized innocently, "Should I take off my bra and panties for you too, Daddy?" As she said it, she reached around her back for the clasp in her bra, jutting her teenage breasts toward her father as she did.
"No!" Jae replied without hesitation. But the damage was done; both Minju and her father saw his cock stiffen noticeably at the thought of having his beautiful eighteen-year-old naked in such close proximity to his bare cock. Having revealed his desire involuntarily or not, Jae knew such a thing was an accident waiting to happen. He couldn't let it go that far. He didn't want to mislead Minju again, though:
"That would be too much for your old dad, Minju," he said. Why don't you just open that, and I'll show you how to put it on?"
Minju complied, tearing the packet and letting the rubbery inside slip out onto her palm. She immediately understood how to use it. When her father reached over to take it from her, Minju closed her fingers on it.
"Wait," she said, "that's it? Last night, you told me about massaging and kissing, and then all of a sudden, we put on a condom?"
"Well, no, things come in between." His shaft remained standing at attention. Now he was thinking about whether he'd have to show Minju how a man might rub her little pussy until she cried out with pleasure. That couldn't happen.
"What kind of things?" She asked sweetly.
"Come on Minju, you know what I'm talking about," he said while looking intently into her eyes, "touching each other, you know… things we can't exactly learn about together."
Minju giggled again; she liked pestering her dad. Of course, she knew about that stuff.
Jae reached for his daughter's hand again, and she pulled it away. He felt frustrated and horny, and for some reason, he had this image of pushing all the furniture away and laying Minju down on the rug to do… something.
"Minju," he said sternly, "I thought you wanted to learn?"
"I do, I do…" Minju hesitated, "but I want to put it on myself."
He should have expected that. He should have known that Minju would push the envelope once again. His silent desire indeed agreed with her, even if his reservations didn't. Yet, Jae stayed quiet for the time being. If he had wanted to he could have denied her on the spot.
"Please daddy," she pleaded, "I can already see your hard cock right in front of me. Would it be so bad if I put the condom on you so I can learn how to myself?"
No, not. That's what Jae should have said. That's what he wanted to say. That was until he blinked and was reminded how incredibly sexy his daughter looked in that black lingerie and how she was still probably the most stunning girl he'd ever come across, regardless of their relationship.
He let go of her wrist; he'd been holding it as he debated her request. Seeing the look in her father's eyes, Minju knew she could continue.
She opened her palm again and then examined the rubber ring inside. Flipping it over, the mischievous little brunette found what looked like the side that would roll easily down her father's shaft.
Then she looked right into his eyes. This was it. She was going to 'learn' by putting a condom on her father… her father whose cock was hard for her. The thought made Minju squirm.
Keeping her eyes on his as much as she could, Minju carefully directed the condom so it was resting on the very tip of his upright pole. She watched her dad take a big breath as she did what came naturally and slowly pushed her fist over his head. Jae could only stare with amazement.
The rubber stretched taught in no time before she could even get her whole hand around him. His penis looked even bigger, with her tiny fingers wrapping around it. Minju wasn't sure the rubber circle could stretch anymore, but seeing the apparent look of pleasure on her dad's face, she had to try.
"It's kind of fun," she told him with a cheeky smile, "does it feel good when I do this?"
Jae had to hold out. He couldn't let this turn into more. It was his obligation as a father. "It's alright," he said, gritting his teeth.
Minju wouldn't be discouraged. She felt the lubrication on the part of the condom she had exposed and brought her hand back up to the tip to push down again.
'Fuck,' thought Jae. Either she knew what she was doing, or he was just unlucky. If Minju kept touching him that way, he'd soon lose out in the battle to NOT enjoy her hand on him.
Jae watched as his daughter continued gripping his shaft and urging the condom further down on him. Again she lifted her hand and started at the tip like she was trying to smooth out the layer of rubber between her hand and his bare cock.
He focused on that: his young girl wasn't technically touching him, only the condom. But the way she was still gliding her hand over the slippery surface was much more like stroking than simply applying the protection.
Looking at her, Jae was once again enamored by the wonder in her eyes and the apparent fulfillment of her youthful curiosity. He loved so much about his daughter, not least her beauty, but watching her, Jae was reminded of what an excellent companion she'd been to him for so long. He'd watched her grow into this intelligent, adventurous female with striking beauty. He'd taught her so much, and so he allowed her to continue 'learning' rather than stunt the potential of their exchange.
"I don't think it can go any further, Daddy; your thing is too big," alerted Minju.
"That's normal," said her father. Some are made a little bigger, but these ones always fit me best."
"But what about here, dad?" Minju said, moving her hand directly to the base of her father's penis and grabbing on tight.
"Oh, Minju'!" exclaimed her dad. 'So much for her not touching me directly,' he thought.
"What?" she asked, immediately understanding from the way she felt the underside of his shaft pulse in her hand. Jae didn't answer; there was no reason to, and so Minju continued:
"If you put it inside me, couldn't someone still get out around here and get me pregnant?" She had the perfect, innocent look as she asked.
Minju was probably just being entirely hypothetical, but how could her father prevent the immediate thought of both of those things? One: his cock, which she held in her hand, being inserted inside his little girl. Just by looking at the faint outline of his daughter's lips behind those cute black boy shorts, Jae was sure it would be a difficult fit. And two, even though she was mistaken, his cum accidentally got in Minju's young womb, and what a forbidden yet alluring thing that was. The thoughts just seemed to come more naturally when his little girl was gripping his cock in her hand.
"No, baby. It works just fine that way," he said, trying to shake off the forbidden images she'd instilled in his mind. You see how there's a loose part at the top?"
Minju slowly brought her hand up, making sure she had her fingers wrapped around for the entire motion. She couldn't get enough of the feeling of her father's cock in her hand; it was surprisingly warm and thick enough that she couldn't touch her two fingers together without trying hard. She could feel his heartbeat pulsing within when she paused for a second. Truthfully, she wanted to feel his whole cock without the condom on, but instead, she just crossed her fingers that he wouldn't end the lesson too soon.
When Minju's hand touched her father's tip, Jae inhaled again. Everything about her touch seemed to make him anxious for more.
"When you're having sex with one of these on and the man ejaculates, hopefully, all of it stays up here."
"Ohhh.." Minju replied, repeating the motion of bringing her hand from base to tip again. "Hopefully?"
"Well, it's not common, but sometimes the condom can break, and that's not good."
"Obviously!" said Minju adorably. "Is it only during sex?"
"That it can break, or that a man has an orgasm?"
"Well," she pondered, moving her hand deliberately along her dad's length, "both, I guess?"
Jae hadn't meant to say it aloud, but trying so hard to stay composed had him mixed up, "Well if you keep doing that, I might cum right here."
There was no taking it back, and Minju didn't miss a beat: "Keep moving my hand like this daddy?" Her hand moved more consistently, up and down on her father's protected pole.
She was emboldened by the pleasure in her father's voice when he'd admitted it. Minju thought that might happen. She hoped it might, so she kept her attention and watched as her dad rolled his head back and let her continue.
Then he surprised her. Of its own volition, Jae's hand found the thigh of his cross-legged daughter. His hand had been resting on her tiny hip for a while, but his fingers wanted more Minju was sitting facing him the whole time she'd been practicing on his cock, and it was too easy to shift his hand simply.
First, he rubbed firmly at the soft surface of her leg, moving in circles as his fingers experimented and stroked his daughter suggestively. Her skin was just as warm and inviting as it looked, and Minju instantly enjoyed her daddy touching her. It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and feeling her unapologetically was empowering. Jae wanted more. He'd made promises to himself, yet his fingertips disobediently inched closer to the bottoms he'd been admiring. Her father's touch made Minju nervous. She was aware of what was happening and completely willing, but nobody had ever touched her there. Minju knew she was worried for no reason. She could feel safe with her dad, yet her hastened, excited breaths didn't stop.
And then her dad's fingers were at her panties. They pushed firmly on the mound above her shaved pussy. Minju quietly cooed. She was burning for him, though she had no idea of her dad's intentions. He was slowly moving his fingers and touching everywhere, but the burning center of her pelvis, and she was pretty sure that's where she wanted him the most.
Feeling a bit frustrated after a moment of that, Minju's hand, which had continued stroking her father all along, felt the ridge of the silly rubber ring that still covered her dad's penis. Each time her hand rolled up, the ring did too. It would pop back off if she did it a few times.
And it did. By the time Jae finally put his fingers directly on the cloth-covered mound of his daughter, he didn't dare stop her from holding his bare cock in her hand. Minju just rolled the condom back the way it had come and let it fall to the ground. Her hand still had enough of the lubricant on it that she could slide it on her father's naked shaft; she liked it much better that way. There was even a little fluid coming out of his tip by then, thought the teenager, and she used that to ease her strokes, too. If she kept up the good work, he'd orgasm just like he told her. She wondered what that would be like without the protective condom on.
His fingers felt so wonderful on her. Jae was doing what Minju liked the most, though he couldn't have known, and that was to gently rub his finger between and around Minju's sensitive lips. She was so fired up that it immediately made her shudder excitedly. Minju scooted closer to her dad, still facing him and letting him get closer to rub her pussy better.
"Oh, sweetie, keep going," he instructed her. You're going to make your dad come."
Jae had promised not to go any further. This was only supposed to be a lesson. But she felt so good, and looking at her, he was proud to watch his beautiful daughter stroke his cock as he rubbed her tiny pussy through her panties. It seemed only a shade more taboo for them to touch each other than to simply learn how to put a condom on. He wasn't having sex with Minju, after all, only teaching her about foreplay and how to please a man.
"Oh fuck, Daddy, you're good at that. It feels good when you touch me."
"You too, honey. Lay back a little. I'm getting closer."
"Oh, keep going, Dad! Don't stop touching my pussy," she was writhing her hips around in rhythm to her father's firm, massaging fingers. The way he was pushing them just right on her clit and the thin lips of her quim was inexplicably excellent. Minju quickly obeyed her dad and leaned back in the chair so he could do what he wanted to her. She could only hope for him to do something more.
Minju saw the way her dad was positioning himself between her legs as she stroked him. It couldn't be, but a part of her wondered if he was thinking what she was. If he just reached down and pulled off her underwear, his big cock would be so close to her pussy. Would he ever consider teaching her about that, about how it would feel if he slid his hard penis inside of her and became the first man to claim her virgin pussy?
No, they couldn't. Minju had taken the condom off her dad, and there was no way he'd risk getting her pregnant, she reasoned. It was so naughty of her to think about it, but somehow, the thought of her getting pregnant with her dad didn't deter her as it should have. She couldn't know it then, but a similar idea had also crossed her father's mind.
"Are you going to cum daddy?"
"Yesss…" her father hissed. "Do you know what's gonna happen, baby?" He had instinctively lined up in front of his daughter because it was what he wanted but he hadn't thought to ask her permission.
"Are you going to squirt your cum on me, Daddy?" Minju asked between breaths as she was trying to focus her attention on her dad and not on the escalating distraction of pleasure.
"Uh-huh, do you want me to Minju'? Jae requested.
"Yes, Daddy…. mmmnnhh…oh fuck. You're gonna make me cum, too," she looked so beautiful as she continued moving her hand and simultaneously wriggling under her dad's fingers. "Don't stop…no…don't stop…" Minju begged. She was doing such a good job, thought her father.
Minju was trying so hard to please her dad when she started to shudder from the onset of her climax on his fingers. She brought two hands to her father's cock and prayed that she was doing it right. She couldn't even keep her eyes open or at least point in his direction. She'd never felt so much tension and desire released in an orgasm as the one her dad was causing her to feel. She knew she had succeeded when she felt the first warm spray of her father's cum on her bare stomach.
Jae looked down at his little girl. She was beautifully laid back on the arm of the couch and shaking visibly as her father continued to stimulate her pussy through the release. His cock spurted an incredible amount onto the eighteen-year-old's midsection.
"Daddy… oh my god… fuck… please!"
He just kept going, and her hips tried to lift in retreat. It had come on so quickly, but Jae was going to make sure his teenage daughter had every bit as powerful an orgasm as he was. And still Minju held on with two hands and pumped her father's cock right at her, coaxing each jet of white semen onto a different vacant stretch of her stomach.
Minju's orgasm lasted longer than her father's, and it was a beautiful thing to watch. She moaned loud enough that Jae worried she would wake someone up. Fortunately, the closest room was his wife's, and she was a heavy sleeper. A few times, Minju's eyes stared into her father's when she could tear her concentration away from all the stimuli.
When she finally came to, they both looked together at the mess they'd created all over the surface of Minju's abdomen. That was not what Jae had in mind when his daughter asked to put a condom on him. Yet, he didn't feel even slightly compelled to complain.
"Your cum is so warm, dad! I can feel it all over my tummy!"
"You like that feeling, Minju? Your dad liked feeling you make him come, honey."
"Yeah, daddy, I like it almost as much as the orgasm you gave me!"
She looked beautiful with the ropes of his white semen shot on her tan skin. It was so wrong and simultaneously one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen. Minju wearing that incredible black lingerie just for him was a treat enough, but the act of coating her with his sperm after teaching her how to put a condom on seemed too much to comprehend. He had to admit that couldn't have worked out better for him.
"You know, you said you just wanted to put a condom on me, honey, were you lying?"
"No, Daddy, I swear!" Minju promised, "I just… I don't know, I wanted to make you feel good, and you're penis felt so big and warm, and I just wanted to keep jerking it. I couldn't stop!"
He loved hearing her prattle on. She was so innocent and yet sexy at the same time. Jae quickly flipped around and maneuvered Minju so she could lay back in his arms. His hand came to rest around her shoulder, with his fingers resting right at the tops of her breasts. Of course, he immediately began caressing the tops of her mounded breasts. Below, the fresh ribbons of cum on the pretty high schooler's stomach began to cool, and Minju could feel the night air tickling all the wet spots down there. But her dad was warm enough to keep her comfortable.
"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. You did such a good job, too. Should we clean you up now?"
"No, Daddy, just let it stay like this for a bit. I like it, and it's like you marked me yours."
Jae loved that thought and loved even more that his daughter saw it that way. In his eyes, Minju was his very own.
Exhausted after all of it, father and daughter dozed off. The image of holding his teenage daughter in his arms, her flat stomach still glazed with his cum, and the peaceful look on her face as she fell asleep was something Jae hoped never to forget. He dreamed of Minju, even as he held her, exploring unspoken curiosities of what lessons she might ask of him next.
It was a glint of sunlight that awoke him some number of hours later. At first, he rolled his shoulders back to loosen up, feeling a weight on his arm and chest as he did so. He looked down to see his daughter nuzzled under his arm in the same incredible lingerie, though seeing her practically naked form in the light of the morning was arguably better. Then he saw the drying, but some still damp streaks on her stomach from where she'd spent him the night before.
"Shit!" Jae said aloud.
Minju awoke, hearing her father's voice. "Mmmmnhhh," she murmured, pulling at his torso with her hands, "good morning daddy."
She sounded so adorable to Jae that he didn't want to just toss her from his hold and make her feel like they'd made a huge mistake.
"Minju," he shook her, "you have to get up."
When she opened her eyes, Minju saw that her father's cock was completely erect again. He'd had enough time to get a good look at the gorgeous teen before he'd realized they were still very exposed and in an unquestionably forbidden position together on the couch. "Ooo," the devious little brunette said with excitement, reaching over casually and grazing her father's cock with her gentle touch. His muscle flexed at the feeling. "Should we do another lesson dad?"
As Minju wrapped her hand around his cock, Jae almost threw caution to the wind and allowed her to stroke her like they'd done the night before. But the prospects of continuing to teach his daughter everything he wanted to got the better of him.
"Yes, but we can't now honey. It's morning; we've got to get up and get cleaned up before your mother or brother see us.
"That would be really naughty, wouldn't it daddy? We could get in so much trouble if someone saw how much cum I made you squirt on my tummy last night." Minju was obviously enjoying the taboo. "Especially if I said how much I liked doing it!" She sat up excitedly, "And how much I liked when you rubbed my pussy daddy! Can't we do it again, please?"
"Minju, no!" Jae cautioned, "please honey, we've got to get you out of sight and cleaned off!"
"Hmmmph," Minju pouted, watching her father stand up and cover up his erection with his pants.
She didn't want to have to pretend ALL DAY that she and her dad weren't exploring an exciting new path in their relationship. But now she was feeling disappointed and kind of mad, being shuffled off by her dad like nothing had happened. She got to her feet unenthusiastically as her father took her hands and pulled her up, against her will.
"Minju," he said, taking her down-turned face in his hands and lifting it towards his own, "I love you sweetheart," Jae sounded truly sincere and paused, "We can keep having our lessons, but I think you're smart enough to know that if anyone saw you like this…"
Jae ran a finger down his daughter's neck, across her collarbone and then hooked the top of her bra, playfully tugging it like he wanted to see her hidden nipple inside. When Minju looked down she was warming up again, reassured that her father wanted her. They both saw the messy surface of Minju's midsection together, causing Minju to smile with pride.
At any moment his wife could have walked down the stairs and seen him touching his daughter. There wasn't a chance she could miss the results of the previous evening splattered on the half-naked brunette's front. Still, he was powerless when his offspring looked up into his eyes with that sultry grin and big blue eyes full of content; he just had to kiss her.
At first, Minju didn't know what to do. It didn't feel like any other kiss that they'd shared, right from the start. Her father's warm palms on either side of her face were wonderful, she stepped up onto her toes and pressed her lips more firmly against his. She felt the tent in her father's pants brushing just above the waist of her bottoms. If she could have stayed there forever, she would have, especially when their mouths parted and opened to each other. Minju was inexperienced, but somehow she felt inspired to dart her tongue between their connected lips.
Minju's presence was intoxicating to her father, who was feeling the nervousness of their exposure build while he began to fear that they would start something he couldn't stop. His hands were already moving toward Minju's sides; he couldn't get enough of touching her there. When finally they reached there, both Minju and Jae were getting more aggressive about kissing each other and wanting more. Jae had to put a stop to it before they were found.
He firmly grabbed under Minju's rib cage and pushed her back from him, watching her lean in to maintain contact with his lips. She gasped again and glared at him like she was going to throw a fit. He couldn't yield to her, no matter how much he wanted to reach out and pull off her tiny bra and panties so she could be his pouting AND naked little daughter simultaneously.
"Nope," he said aloud, alerting them both that he would not be continuing. Minju felt her dad twist her hips away from him and then with a step towards her and two hands on the cheeks of her mostly uncovered butt, push her toward the door to the house. Minju looked back at her father and bit her lip for him before finally obeying him and heading toward the house. He watched her the whole way thinking 'my god am I in some trouble with that one.'
While Jae was inspecting the area, picking up the hardly used condom that Minju had cast on the floor, he started making promises he knew he couldn't keep again. 'This is a bad idea,' he thought, 'I should put an end to it right now.'
Minju was in the shower, feeling all different kinds of things as she remembered all the places on her body where her dad had touched her, and finally her midsection where he had coated her in spunk. She felt silly and lovesick wondering if her dad would let her keep pursuing their 'lessons,' if they could even be called that anymore. The whole time she wore a huge smile thinking of him; her dad had made her feel truly wonderful and she craved his attention even more. "You look fresh this morning," her mother commented when Minju came downstairs, her dad was avoiding eye contact because he didn't want to give them away.
"You think?" implored Minju, "I guess dad and I didn't get too carried away last night and I slept really well. Perhaps we should go crazy tonight though."
The look on her father's face was priceless as he gazed at her over his orange juice glass.
"Well you can count me out, you two stay up way too late for me. What do you even talk about all that time?"
"I don't know," said Minju, "anything, everything. Most stuff I don't even remember, but we have a lot of fun together, don't we Daddy?"
Jae tried to act completely normal as his daughter threw her arms around him from behind. In truth, nothing she said would necessarily tip his wife off. Thankfully, she couldn't see beneath the table because even the slightest touch by his naughty teenager was causing his pants to stir. 'Yep…trouble,' he thought again. Jae decided to play along with Minju; it excited him to keep the secret from Eunju.
"I guess I'm just trying to teach my baby everything she wants to know before she leaves us." Jae snuck his arm around Minju and tugged her over to his side. His wife had stopped paying attention to them, so he dared snake his fingers under the hem of his daughter's shirt. As his hand came upon her sexy and now cleaned-off abs, he finished: "We cover a lot of things don't we honey?"
Minju opened her mouth in shock and mouthed 'DAD' at him. His fingers traced the ribbons that had been there only minutes before. When the silence was long enough that Jae worried his wife might look, they broke apart.
"Well," Eunju said, finally looking up from her phone, "the Son's are getting here tomorrow so I expect you both to be good guests. Minju, maybe you can save some of that nighttime conversation for Sun-woo?"
As usual, that seemed to kill the mood and Minju went outside to sit in the morning sun soon after. Jae felt for his daughter; Eunju didn't seem to care at all how Minju actually felt about it, she just kept pushing. He knew that he had at least a day and a night full of his wife and that annoying Mi-Young cackling and talking about nonsense and reality shows until they finally went to bed. He didn't know yet how they'd deal with the son, Sun-woo, but he'd figure that out.
Most of all, as Jae looked out at his daughter laying out on a towel in yet another swimsuit, he was hoping they might get one more night alone. She would be the death of him, thought Jae as he recalled that he'd recently sworn not to take things any further, again.
But that suit! Could she wear anything that didn't cause him to fantasize jumping her in the lawn without a care who saw. This one was no less revealing than the last, more even. It started with the hot pink, strapless top. Minju's little, tanned shoulders uncovered revealed a charming tan line where they would usually be covered. The strip that went around her toned back was pretty simple, save the two cups that supported her breasts. He could not fathom how it stayed up. He couldn't decide if the bottoms were a thong or not. Perhaps he was just being prude, but they didn't look to be more than an inch wide in any spot. Jae guessed that somehow made them okay.
He must have stared at her all day and so did plenty of other men, he noticed, as she was water-skiing or sitting in the boat. It pained him to have little or no ability to get his hands on her all day; they were simply never alone. Jae truly enjoyed when he caught Minju staring his way, clearly deep in thought. Nobody knew; nobody could know, but having something between them as intimate as the last few nights they had spent together was driving both Jae and Minju crazy in the best way.
Once, when they were swimming in the water together, Minju's mom and brother had gotten back onto the boat to grab a snack and a beer from the cooler. Minju and her dad were mostly out of sight near the other side of the boat, wearing lifejackets to keep them comfortably afloat.
"Hi Daddy," Minju had said in the most adorable way she could, pursing her lips together.
"Hi baby," said her dad, floating closer to her steadily.
"I've been thinking about our lesson last night; I think you left a few things out." Minju implied.
"I've been thinking about it too." Jae replied, feeling Minju reaching out for him under the water. He checked back up toward the boat, where his wife and son had sat down and were chatting while they snacked and drank beer. "What did I leave out?"
Minju kept quiet for a moment. She felt her dad's hips come into contact with hers and she instantly knew that he was hard. Instead of answering him, Minju maneuvered her hips so that she could wrap her legs around him and trap his cock between them. Jae's hands quickly went to her sides, but whether to hold her off or to keep her on he did not know.
Jae checked, the coast was still clear.
"Minju, don't you think this is going a little far?" He asked as he felt Minju's hips rotate around and his bulging cock being rubbed on the spot he just knew was her tiny quim.
"What?" she asked as if they were doing nothing wrong, "You'd just be teaching, and we'd never have to do anything skin-to-skin if you didn't want to?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Jae said without thinking, then immediately regretting it.
Minju looked stunned, and even when her dad told her he was just kidding, she didn't believe him. She did keep grinding her hips on him, and for a silent moment or two, they just stayed locked together, only ten feet from their other family members and making some totally forbidden and yet amazing contact under the water.
"So… tonight?" Minju asked.
"Tonight." said her dad.
Minju reached down between them and took hold of her father's cock through his shorts, slowly pushing him away but obviously knowing the effect she was having on him. In truth, Jae wished the contact had never happened, because afterwards he couldn't get out of the water for ten solid minutes, he still had to be tortured by the eighteen-year-old in that sexy swimsuit all day. Watching her breasts bounce inside it as they played lawn games that day was one of the worst teases he'd ever experienced in his life.
"Early day tomorrow, hun?" Jae goaded his wife when he'd finally reached the end of his patience.
"Yes, and on that note I'm off to bed. You too better not get into too much trouble tonight, because I'm getting you up early!"
"Yeah yeah," said Jae, "you're the one that's gonna have the hangover after all of those margaritas."
"Oh shut up!" said his wife, "just get her to bed at a reasonable hour, will you?"
"What about Do-yun, doesn't he need to go to bed early?" interjected Minju.
Do-yun had taken the boat across the lake to a friend's home and he said he'd be back just after dark. It had been dark for a while by then, so he was probably staying over.
"Don't you worry about your brother," said Minju's mother, "he doesn't really have to entertain anyone tomorrow like you do."
"MOM! I told you! I don't want to be Sun-woo's personal tour guide, this is my vacation too."
"Yes yes, just get some rest tonight alright?"
Minju only grumbled.
"Goodnight honey," said Jae as she went off to bed leaving her husband and daughter alone.
For a few long minutes, Minju and Jae just stared at each other half smiling and half testing the other's reserve.
"Do you want to go down by the water and lay on a blanket with me Daddy?"
"Sure," said Jae, glad one of them had finally spoke up.
He still took the opportunity to watch his lithe little teen stand up and show off her body to him while she searched for the right blanket. When she found it, she strutted over to her dad with a hand extended to help him out of his seat. Jae stood up and pressed against her; he knew where this night was heading and it had his emotions in overdrive.
Together they spread the blanket on the grass by the moonlit water. Minju lay down on her back and stretched out for her dad to see. She wanted him to want her like he had the night before. He did, Jae just didn't want to be too upfront about it for fear he couldn't control himself.
He lay down next to her and traced one finger from her small chin all the way to the spot just above her bottoms. Minju shivered in anticipation.
"I really liked what we did last night daddy, you know that right?" Minju said.
"I did too Minju', but I want to really careful that I don't take advantage of you."
Truthfully, that's exactly what Minju wanted him to do, but she felt like she shouldn't outright say it. "I promise you're not daddy, I'll tell you any time I feel uncomfortable."
That made her dad feel a bit better, and the way he added a few fingers to the path of his hand on her stretched out body told Minju that too.
"Can we practice the condom again Dad?"
"…sure honey," Jae said after a short pause. He got out the box from his pocket and Minju eagerly took it from him.
"Let me take those off for you dad," she said after she'd gotten a wrapper out of the box.
Jae watched as his naughty little girl unbuttoned his trunks and tugged them down, but then swung her leg over him so she was straddling his thighs. It was almost too close for comfort, and where his cock had only been partially hard before, he was quickly solid. Minju giggled when she saw it harden before her eyes.
"You like it when I'm on top huh daddy?" asked Minju, sounding irresistible.
"Yes, but you be good now Minju, just the condom this time okay?" He was trying so hard to stay on track.
Even so, Minju grabbed right for his cock first. Her hand on him felt amazing, though Jae did give his daughter a knowing stare to knock it off. After she'd held him tight and even jerked her hand a little up and down, Minju went to work putting the condom on her father.
This time she did it faster with only about three strokes downward, to Jae's dismay.
"There," she said, sitting back, "how did I do?"
"That was good Minju, I think you're learning." He replied. She'd gone too fast, Jae was thinking that at the very least he could feel her little hand on him for more than a few seconds and the lesson could stay relatively innocent..
"Well since I did so good, could I learn a little more?" she asked, trying to sound naive.
Jae felt cut short, he couldn't help himself, "Sure baby, what do you want to know?"
"I want to know what you'd do next? Like, if I wasn't your daughter, what would you do.?"
"Well…" Jae started, wondering if he could bring himself to answer, "I think you know what a condom is for Minju?"
"For us to have sex?"
"No…" Jae recovered, "not for US to have sex Minju, you know we can't do that."
"I KNOW Daaad… I didn't say you actually had to put your cock inside me, I just want to know what comes next."
Jae couldn't take it. The way Minju was talking was so inappropriate it almost made him mad. Of course, she still held his shaft in her hand after he'd given her permission to put a condom on him so he had no right to scold her. But really saying 'put your cock inside me;'she couldn't be completely serious. Deep down, Jae knew what his daughter was doing, so he also knew that if he let things continue that he was disregarding his own promises. He groaned in frustration and swiftly flipped the two of them around so he was in charge. Minju laughed aloud when she found herself on her back so suddenly.
The rearrangement had pulled Minju tight against her dad, putting his cock, which was thankfully covered, right against those tiny black bottoms Minju had picked out just for her dad. They both looked down and saw it, and the incestuous nature of the proximity chipped away at Jae's reserve.
"I think I should be naked Daddy," Minju said, squirming. She took her dad's cock in her hand right near her little pussy. Jae didn't feel it was fair.
"I don't think so Minju, even with the condom on that is too risky."
"Why is it risky dad, can't you just show me how we would do it? Like how it looks before you put it in, and how we come together and stuff. I don't want to be totally clueless when I do this for the first time."
The reminder that Minju was a virgin made his cock jump again. This was ridiculous. No. She could not get naked and lie down in front of him so they could 'pretend' to have sex.
"It's risky Minju, because I you are very beautiful and I don't think I can handle you naked without wanting more than our lesson."
There, he said it. Minju loved it. She was far from giving up.
"Please daddy, take my clothes off?" She begged, "I just want to be as close to the real thing as possible. I want to be naked for you."
Minju pushed her breasts upward by arching her back off the blanket. Her hips again urged that tiny mound of hers against her father's cock. It was so stupid by then, pretending that they were just practicing or learning when Jae's cock was only a layer of fabric and a request away from taking his daughter's virginity.
What was even more foolish was pretending that he hadn't been dying to get his baby out of her tiny swimsuit. As he gazed down at her body and the close proximity of their lower halves, Jae decided that he didn't want to see the outfit on her anymore, he just wanted his daughter naked and completely his.
He reached down to her torso and, though surprised he'd finally agreed, Minju rolled to the side to give him access. Jae reached behind her and tugged the clasp apart that was holding her top on. Minju didn't move an inch after she'd laid back flat. She was testing her father to see if he could follow through. Sure enough, he did.
When he finally pulled the pink swimsuit top free, Jae no longer regretted making the decision. Her breasts were so incredible, perky and round atop her chest that he went right for them. His hips ground against hers involuntarily as his hand came to hold on to one soft mound. Minju gasped as her father palmed her tit, and then moaned as she felt his cock directly on top of her damp lips. Jae could feel her tiny nipple pressing into his palm. Touching her, and seeing his topless daughter beneath him nearly gave him a heart attack.
So, he hesitated little in reaching down to remove her bikini panties as well. Minju was so happy about it that she couldn't hide a giant smile. God did she look pretty. When the black bottoms came over her knees, then her ankles and finally off her foot, Jae knew he was done for.
She was, as before, totally shaven. Her lips were small, not yielding a bit to reveal the entrance to her tight insides. Her entire mound was glistening in the moonlight, wet with desire for her father. Minju spread her legs so he could reposition himself in front of her.
"Careful honey," he warned.
"Ohhhh daad," she called to him as his hand returned to her teenage breasts, "is this how it would feel… if we were really going to do it?"
"Yes baby… if."
"I feel so nervous I think I could explode," Minju told him
"Why are you nervous honey?"
"Because I'm naked just for you now daddy and I don't know what you're thinking," Minju said truthfully
"I'm thinking that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen Minju." Jae said, meaning it.
Minju responded physically to the compliment, both smiling and then lifting her hips toward her dad. Whether she meant to or not, it caused her soaked mound to come in contact directly with the underside of her father's shaft. They both flinched, but Minju did not back away.
"Mnnnhhh… Daddy… ohmyGod," Minju cooed, feeling her father push her hips back down with his own. Jae couldn't deny the pleasure he felt doing so, but he was still so worried he would end up taking his daughter's virginity because he couldn't resist.
"How does it feel dad, when if first goes in?" she asked, intoxicated with lust for him.
"With you Minju? I think it would be very tight your first time. We'd have to go very slow so you could adjust."
"But would it feel good daddy?" She implored, breathing heavy with her father's warm hand on her breast.
"Yes baby, it would feel good if we did it right." Jae merely spoke in streams of consciousness. He was beside himself, driven by pleasure, love for his little girl, and a faltering resistance to being his daughter's first.
"But we can't, right?"
This time Jae was surprised, and not sure that he was glad that Minju was the one being responsible.
"Right sweetie, that's not allowed between the two of us."
"Even if I ask you to? Even if we both wanted to?" Minju said with wide eyes searching his.
"Yes honey, it's still incest."
"Can you just slide your cock on me like we were before daddy? I really want to feel that again, I promise we don't have to do any more."
Jae answered by acting instead of talking. He closed the gap between their hips and looked down to that pretty spot where Minju's tiny slit would accept him. He rotated his hips so that the underside of his shaft planted right between his teen's puffy lips.
"Right there dad, uh huhhh… "
"You're very pretty down there too Minju," said her dad, making her blush, "does that feel good?"
"Yes daddy, you're a really good teacher… unhhh," Minju continued playing, "can you slide it on my pussy, like how you would if it was in me?"
Jae did just that, eliciting a moan from his eighteen-year-old immediately. He'd never felt so utterly aroused with a woman before in his life, and he wasn't even making love to his daughter…yet. 'NO,' he reminded himself. But god did she look so good. He hadn't imagined that Minju got any prettier; she'd been wearing so little that he had only to fill in the blanks. But looking down at his beautiful daughter, Jae knew he had been wrong.
"Fuckkk daaaad… your cock feels so good…..ohhhhh…. even better than your fingers."
Hearing Minju say things like that was mind-blowing. It reminded him of exactly what they were doing, and the forbidden nature of it spurred him on. Jae increased the pace at which he was thrusting against his little girl, his staff working between her lips to stimulate her clit and every other millimeter it touched.
"Oooo keep doing that daddy… it's almost like you're fucking me for real…" Minju paused and looked her father right in the eyes, sharing the moment with him as she experienced the sensation of his shaft sliding wonderfully against her pussy "mnnnh, I love you so much dad."
"I love you too honey, you're such a good girl."
"Mnnngh…is THIS being your good girl?" she asked, helping him grind into her with an upward thrust of her hips. "Having an orgasm from my daddy's cock…oh uhhh fuuuck… is being good?" Minju asked incredulously.
Jae was becoming wild upon hearing his daughter's words. He had no idea where she got them from, but it made him want her even more. Jae and his daughter were getting close to cumming again, this time a little differently, but they could both read it on each other easily.
"Daddy?" Minju bit her lip and tried to look cute, "I want you to make me your bad girl."
Jae kept moving his hips, but slowed. "What do you mean Minju'?"
They stayed silent for a moment, looking down to watch Jae's cock sliding amazingly against his teenager's young quim.
"Teach me daddy… uhhh…" she cooed, wrapping a leg around her father's backside so he wouldn't stop stimulating her pussy, "teach me what your cock feels like inside me."
Jae slowed to a near stop, discerning whether he'd heard her right.
"Please…. ohhhplease… I want you to!" she pleaded, "don't you want to put your big cock in me daddy? Finally? I want it so bad."
How could he say no. How could he deny that he'd dreamed of this very moment, even after how many times he'd promised himself not to. His daughter was the most beautiful young girl, inside and out; would he really pass up an opportunity to make love to her?
"You have a condom on so it's safe," Minju went on. "Don't you want to fuck your little girl? She wants to feel your hard cock inside her… please daddy, put it in me?"
Jae had inched his hips outward so his tip was close enough that both he and Minju wondered if they would soon be locked in incest. He looked up and down his little girl's body, knowing that it would only move him closer to the deed. When his eyes landed on Minju's big blues, wide and begging him to take her, he decided.
"I do Minju, I've been thinking about you for a while now. But are you sure you want me to be your first?"
"Since forever," Minju said, the truth of it in her eyes.
One more time, Jae slid his cock up the path between his daughter's lips. This time, the distance that he traveled up her pelvis showed just how much of her father's penis would be inside her. Minju was floored, but no less willing to try.
"Fuck me daddy." she said when he'd finished the act. The readiness was apparent in her voice.
"Put your hand there Minju…oh that's it little one," he instructed, watching as she did so and then groaning when her fingers wrapped around him. "Now put the tip right near your….ohhh…"
Minju was ahead of him, and rubbed her clit with his tip first before obeying him. Jae was lucky to be wearing the condom, otherwise he might have cum right in her entrance.
He pushed once. Minju's lips tried to yield, but he'd been too gentle.
Again, Jae pushed, the wetness of Minju's young pussy beckoning his head into her. It almost did, but lingered on the outside still. If he did it one more time… just a little harder… Minju, his own daughter, would no longer be a virgin by his own doing. The reality was so magnetic that Jae almost buried himself into her all the way.
Then came the deep chugging of a boat engine.
It was close. Very close.
Minju's eyes read a mixture of desire, nervousness and then terror in realizing what was happening. Her father's cockhead was still prodding at her entrance and she was but a second from giving her virginity to her own father. She wanted it so badly she could scream!
'NO!' she shouted inwardly instead. Minju tried to pull her father deeper with her leg but he was too strong. He recognized immediately that his son had come back from across the lake.
"No daddy… please!" Minju whispered to him, begging him not to stop.
But his hips had already pulled back, and the tip of his cock, which had Minju anticipating the most wonderful moment of her adult life was gone. She and her father had finally crossed the line of merely wanting each other into something much more, and it was stolen out from under them in a second. She cursed her brother.
"I'm so sorry Minju, but we have got to move NOW!"
They didn't have time, so he scooped Minju up, blanket, swimsuit and everything and rushed toward the house as they heard the boat connect with the dock. In seconds it would be tied up and Minju's brother could have seen their father with his cock planted inside his own little sister. If only he had come back a few seconds later, God she hated him right then. He ruined everything!
When he got to the house, Jae set Minju down. She was riotous. She couldn't tell if she was furious with her dad, her brother, or nobody at all, she just was. It was so obvious on her face that her father didn't need to ask.
"I know you're mad Minju, but you didn't really want me to keep going with your brother right there did you?"
She wasn't going to give in. Not a chance. "Yes, I did dad! All I wanted was for you to make me yours, and you just stopped! It was dark, you don't know if he would have seen!"
Jae wished she would keep her voice down, he tried to hush her with a finger to his lips.
"I was naked for you dad, and I told you how much I loved you and that I wanted you to take my virginity,,, and you said you wanted to too!"
She was hardly talking quieter. He looked down and saw Do-yun walking back their way on the dock. It was too dark to see all the way across the yard, but they couldn't stay there.
"I do! But please sweetie, for me, you have to go to your room and get in bed. I'll deal with your brother."
Minju was horrified. She could not believe her dad was now telling her to go to bed like a child. She went, but was so mad she could hardly stand it. With her bikini in hand, Jae watched as his naked, angry little girl scampered upstairs to her room. He knew she was throwing a tantrum because she probably felt used, and deprived and even a little confused. Hopefully she would come around, but they were not going to be able to follow through that night.
In the nick of time, Jae realized that he too had no pants on, so he grabbed a pair and dressed. Before shoving his erection up into the belt, he removed the condom, noticing that the tip was still shining wet from being at the entrance of his baby's pussy. Somehow, all his son saw when he walked in the door was his father in the same chair on the screened in porch with a beer. He had no idea.
All Jae could think about as his son went on about who he was with and what they'd been doing across the lake was his little girl. He knew she'd be lying, possibly naked, in her bedroom upstairs. She was probably so mad at him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Her fit little body would be curled up in bed and her face scrunched up into a pouting frown. His little brunette had been sprawled out in front of him for the taking, and the denial of sliding his throbbing member inside her untouched pussy was unbearable.
If his son could have just gone to bed, he might have been able to go and resurrect the tryst with Minju, and assure her that he still wanted her as badly as he had when she'd been begging him to take her. Instead, by the time Jae and Do-yun turned in and Jae checked in on Minju, she was fast asleep on her side facing away from the door. He didn't want to risk waking her or the anger she'd surely be harboring about their failed encounter. Closing the door despondently, he whispered goodnight and hoped she would sleep it off.
In truth, Minju was wide awake and knew her father had opened the door to see if she was okay but refused to let him win. She was still fuming that he'd stopped short of what she wanted so badly, and was determined to punish him for it. Still, Minju could feel a nagging warmth between her legs, a tingling remnant of the sensation of the tip of her father's cock hovering just outside her tiny opening. She would get what she wanted, but it was going to be on her terms, Minju promised herself.
The next morning was met with a flurry of activity, mostly as a result of Minju's mom making sure everything was ready for their guests to arrive. She was cleaning places in the cabin that nobody had even touched since they arrived, and there was not a second to devote to the little drama that existed between Minju and her father.
They exchanged a few glances, and Minju was tempted to reach out and touch her father's arm once or twice as they passed in the hall, but she refrained. Still wound up about the night before, Minju felt like the only way to tell her dad she was upset was to go radio silence on him. So that's what she did.
And it worked. Jae was wound up too, wondering if he'd finally gone too far with Minju. What was she feeling about how close they'd come to having sex the night before? For the last few days it had seemed like Minju didn't miss a single opportunity to flirt with her father, but now Jae was experiencing a coldness only his wife could have taught her.
Things only worsened when Mi-Young and her son, Sun-woo, arrived. There was not a second for Jae to pull Minju aside and talk to her about what had happened, or to apologize for leaving her in the dark the way he had. They said their greetings and as expected, Mi-Young and Eunju immediately went off chatting about silly drama at the country club and whatever else. Jae went through the obligatory small-talk with Sun-woo: where he was going to school and what he was studying.
From the moment Sun-woo laid eyes on Minju, Jae knew he liked what he saw. Just watching the look on his face when Minju greeted them in her tank top and jean shorts, Jae knew the kid was impressed. Nothing about Minju's body was TOO accentuated. Her breasts were not overly large, nor her butt or her legs too thin… she was just perfectly put together. The shorts she wore wrapped snugly around her hips and between that sought-after gap in her thighs. The top, simple and gray cotton, had not a wrinkle in it as it held hugged her taut midsection and held those beautiful breasts in place. And with just a touch of make-up, Minju was striking and she hadn't even tried to be.
The boy's reaction to seeing Minju infuriated Jae, but what was he to do? He could hardly get defensive or act too territorial around her. Even worse was that Minju didn't seem nearly as opposed to spending time with Sun-woo as she'd led him to believe earlier in the week. Watching her smile and laugh occasionally as the two of them talked throughout the morning made Jae want to break things or go into a rage.
Even suspecting that Minju was toying with him, Jae could not help himself wanting her, and wanting to toss Sun-woo out of the boat when they went for a quick tour around the lake that morning. Jae sighed in relief when they all agreed not to change into bathing suits; he couldn't have handled how aggressive Sun-woo might have gotten with his daughter if she put on one of those sexy bikinis.
All the while, Minju knew what she was doing. She could see her father squirm when Sun-woo put his hand on her in the back of the boat. She would smile or laugh, pretending she was having a good time, and her father would go white. She knew he'd be too proud to try and intervene, so he just stood by as Minju let him think something was developing between her and her new friend.
In truth, there was nothing about Sun-woo that Minju was interested in. He said a few jokes that made her chuckle that morning, but the extent of his usefulness was solely in the way her dad fidgeted when she paid him any attention. Her father was far more handsome, obviously more mature and all around a more interesting person. She also knew his love for her was far deeper than the way Sun-woo kept trying to brush his arm against her tits or how he suggested she sit on his lap when there wasn't enough space in the boat.
That's when Minju started to feel guilty about the defeated look on her father's face. A few hours of separation from him was enough for her, and from the way her father was tying up the boat in an exaggerated manner as everyone walked back toward the house, it was obviously enough for him too.
"I'm gonna wait for my dad, I'll be up in a minute," Minju told Sun-woo as he waited on her like an expectant puppy after they docked.
Sun-woo turned towards the house, looking lost and childish. Minju walked slowly down to where her dad was gathering trash from the boat and she could see just how frustrated he was.
"Hey daddy…" Minju said sheepishly.
Jae didn't respond. He went about filling the boat with gas and when Minju walked closer he finally addressed her.
"Do you need something Minju, kinda busy here?"
"No, I just thought I'd give you some company," she said, not wanting to give up. She knew she'd put him in this mood. Minju decided that even though she'd felt similarly the night before, they were probably more than even from her actions that morning.
She helped in silence, straightening up the life jackets and grabbing loose items around the boat before kneeling on the seat just inside where her dad was filling the tank. Looking as sweet as possible, she directed her blue eyes up to Jae's and did her best to turn him.
"Do you want to hang out later?" She asked, pushing her chest out and looking excited to see him, "just the two of us?"
"Maybe," replied Jae, "but I think you've got a guest to entertain."
He didn't want to sound like he was pouting. He refused to let an eighteen year old girl get the better of him, even if it was his own daughter who knew him best.
"But I don't want to. I want to be with you,.." the teenager said, sounding a bit whiny but adorable, "…alone." she finished.
Inside, Jae's heart pumped boldly for a few beats. He chanced a look into his young daughter's eyes. The splash of gas into a half-empty tank was all that could be heard between them, but their silence was compelling. Minju's disarming smile almost broke him, and she could have sworn the corners of her father's mouth turned.
"Pleaaaaase Daddy?" Minju begged
"Sure honey, if your mom lets you off the hook, we can spend a little time together. But you better get back up to the house."
Even though he was coming around Jae was still, admittedly, pissed. Now that she was back to her normal self, he suspected that she'd been playing games with him, though he wasn't positive. Minju put her hand on his shoulder tenderly as she stepped out of the boat and then kissed him on the side of the neck before scampering back down the dock. Once he saw her cute butt sway in her shorts he knew he'd not be able to hold out on her much longer, and Jae was not sure he wanted to.
Of course, when he returned to the house his wife had already laid out plans for the rest of the day. They were heading to the fruit-picking farm not far away and Jae was to get ready to go within twenty minutes. He sighed and agreed, feeling indifferent about it anyway.
An hour later they were there, listening to a farmhand explain where they were meant to pick and which orchards were out of season. Apparently, it was self-explanatory, the limits of the apple and cherry orchards they were going to be in that day were marked by a fence. After buying a few bottles of water for the group, each of them took a basket and headed for the grounds.
To his delight, Minju had all but shut Sun-woo out since her turnaround that morning. Now he was awkwardly shadowing her around and avoiding her when Minju hung on her father's arm around the orchard. Sun-woo might have even thought that the two of them were acting too intimately, but like Minju's father earlier that day he was in no position to criticize.
Minju was really putting on a show as they picked the apples from tree to tree. There were plenty of apples to choose from, but Jae had no complaints watching her reach to get the highest ones. Her beautiful legs, a strip of skin beneath the tank top as she stretched out, and the way her backside looked when she bent over to drop an apple in her basket… Jae soon forgot any animosity he'd been harboring.
They laughed, joked and horsed around, flirting like a couple of teenagers as they got farther away from the group. Watching his daughter frolic around, Jae was constantly reminded that his little girl was, indeed, only eighteen. But he simply connected with her in a way he could only expect with someone much older than Minju. And her body, with lines and curves he felt like he'd seen only on TV. Jae was practically panting to be closer to her when Minju stopped the two of them with a hand on his front.
"Is that the fence they were talking about?" she asked, rubbing her hand over her father's broad chest.
"I think so," replied Jae.
The fence was a temporary one, just over six feet tall, chain-link and with a dark fabric attached to each section so they couldn't see on the other side. Jae wondered what orchard they were on the border of.
Of course, Minju was to curious to just wonder. She set her basket under a low hanging tree and then stood in front of the fence and just expected that her dad would come give her a boost. Jae saw what she wanted so he followed her lead. When he approached her, Minju surprised him by reaching a hand behind her and touching his neck. He temporarily lost himself when she rolled her head back and pushed her butt into his shorts; it was the sexiest thing she'd done all day.
Looking around, Jae could see a couple of their party in the distance. They were probably too far to see anything at all, but he certainly could begin undressing his daughter right there against the fence. And still, Minju was beginning to move her hips so she could get her dad excited and feel him harden between them.
"So… are you going over or what?"
"Mhh hmmm…" Minju responded, purring.
Minju moved lazily out of their standing position to one where she was holding the fence in anticipation of scaling it. Jae put his hands on her hips and squeezed tight before lifting her up. She mounted the fence and swung her leg over in a few seconds. Jae's heart began beating faster as she hopped out of view on the other side of the fence. He looked behind and saw that they were still out of view of anybody he might not want to see him follow his daughter, or grab the folded cloth from his basket just before he did.
Landing on the other side, Jae looked around and saw no sign of Minju. The foliage was about the same on this side, a peach orchard, but the setting was far more beautiful. A thick blanket of bright-green grass covered the aisles in between trees and none of the fruit had fallen on the ground like it had in the apple orchard.
He couldn't exactly call to her, so he kept looking around and under the rows of trees. Finally he saw her, somewhat hiding behind a dense tree and leaning against it. He circled around it and found his daughter looking back at him with a finger to her lips and an incredibly mischievous look on her face.
"You hiding from me?" Jae asked her.
Minju just shook her head no. She appeared deep in thought.
"What's up Minju'?"
"I'm sorry I was mean to you today dad, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,"
Jae thought for a second before reaching out for her and replying, "It's okay honey, I know you were upset with me."
Minju took her father's hand and came out into the space between the peach trees. She looked forward at his chest, feeling bashful or nervous or whatever it was. They took each other in. Just being alone, where nobody could find them was a huge relief and excited them equally.
It took a moment of standing there together for Minju to build up the courage. Slowly she lifted her head to look up at her dad who was waiting for her next move. Her eyes told him what he wanted, and it was just what Jae had been waiting for to be positive Minju was willing and ready for him.
For the first time, Minju and her father's lips connected. Simultaneously, Minju and Jae realized that they were kissing for the first time as more than just father and daughter. Even their lessons hadn't included this kind of intimacy. Feeling soft lips prying at each other and the electricity generated by their touch, Minju wished she'd asked him to make that a part of her lessons far sooner.
But it was different now. When Minju involuntarily darted her tongue out to her father's mouth, it was no longer pretending. As her father's hands found her sides and pulled her close, it was because he wanted only to feel her pressed tightly against him, not on some pretense that she might be learning.
Their breathing hastened and advances suddenly more daring.
"Oh dad," Minju gasped as her father kissed her neck, "I want you… so bad."
Jae continued down his daughter's neck, kissing and nibbling at her to the increasing fervor of her breath. He felt her fingers fumbling at his belt-line, obviously wanting to take off the shorts that were now constricting his erection from sticking outward toward her. It was then he realized he hadn't anticipated this moment and had stupidly forgotten to bring a rubber.
"Minju," he paused, "I didn't bring any protection for us."
Apparently, that didn't stop his daughter from unbuckling his belt because a second later it unlatched and his button followed.
"Honey we can't go any further." Jae said, feeling disappointed and so increasingly lustful for the young brunette in front of him.
"Why not daddy?" Minju asked, running her hand down over his zipper and feeling how hard he was beneath it. Jae couldn't believe how wonderful it felt and what an expert she was becoming at turning him on.
"You know why Minju, you aren't on birth control and it is very dangerous." Jae warned, feeling his eighteen-year-old continue to touch him over his shorts. "You could get pregnant very easily honey."
Minju looked up at him while her hand kept up its movement. "Uh huh," she said, shaking her head and glaring at him with her big eyes.
Jae flinched back, speechless. What did she mean? What was she confirming: that they couldn't have sex or that he could get her pregnant? She clearly didn't intend to stop what they were doing by the way she hadn't yet stopped rubbing his shaft over his shorts. She couldn't mean what he thought she did.
"I don't understand Minju, what are you saying?"
She got a firm grasp of his cock and Jae's eyes rolled, "I'm saying I know you could get me pregnant daddy."
Silence.
"And I'm saying I'm yours… I don't want to stop."
Jae had broken every promise he'd made to himself, crossed every line and he stood at the very precipice of one more. He knew he had to deny her, but every bone in his body was begging him not to. His baby girl wanted him to take her virginity, to do it right in the middle of an orchard with their family close by, and she wanted him to risk impregnating her by doing it without protection. And instead of deterring him, Jae wanted all three of those things more than ever. Hearing that Minju was his to have, Jae felt all boundaries crumbling.
"Make love to me daddy. This time for real."
"Oh God Minju," said Jae, feeling her reaching inside his pants and taking hold of him bare.
"Please daddy," she called to him as he returned to kissing her neck and shoulder and moving his hands over her wonderful sides, "ohhhh… I want you,"
His pants fell to his ankles and there was no darkness like on the previous nights to obscure what was Jae's obvious reaction to his daughter's request. Impossibly, his cock looked larger than Minju could recall all week, and the thought of having it inside her excited the eager teen to no end.
When Minju put both hands around him, it was as if the last of Jae's inhibitions left him. Immediately, Minju felt her father's hands tighten around her waist, pulling her strongly toward him. In seconds, he'd maneuvered them under the hem of her tank top. Minju breathed sharply when she felt his thumbs press into the soft spots just below her hipbones.
The way Minju writhed when he massaged around her hips and just under the waist of her shorts spurred him on. Minju looked down as her father rubbed his fingers together and suddenly her shorts were unbuttoned. This was really happening, she thought, her daddy was really going to fuck her like she'd been dreaming of.
The little brunette looked down as Jae pulled at her shorts and the zipper came undone. He was tender, attentive, and not too hasty as he pushed at the undersized jean shorts and Minju shimmied to help them off. As her little butt swayed back and forth, the shorts revealed a cute pair of cotton panties with thick black and white stripes. They were tiny, and so perfectly snug in concealing the young virgin's opening. Had Jae not desperately wanted access to what was underneath he might have been content to leave them on for him to admire.
However, both father and daughter were exhausted with pretending and 'being careful.' They'd skirted the line between responsibility, incest, teaching and lust and no there was only one thing left they wanted. So when Minju felt her father's tip prodding at the front of her panties, she wanted them off and quickly made it so.
As her bottoms hit the grass, Jae hungrily took her face in his hands and kissed her. They were electrified with desire for each other, and though Jae wanted Minju not to rush through her first time, it was hard to control her. Her tongue flicked in and out of his mouth, around his lips, and she managed to trap the head of his cock in the place between her thighs.
She was so wet he could feel it immediately. Bare, warm and so ready for him to penetrate her, there was no time to waste. When Minju wrapped her arm around her father's neck he immediately grabbed her at the waist and lifted her up.
His baby girl was so light that Jae could easily hold her in place. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Minju didn't want to say anything to slow her father down, so she kept silent but looked deep into his eyes with desire.
His tip was there, perfectly lined up at her entrance. Jae stared right back at his youngest as he lifted his hips ever so slightly, feeling her tiny lips begin to part for him. They had been here before… only a night ago. Jae had been so close to entering his little girl on the beach. Now, however, there was no condom between them and nobody to stop what happened next. Soaked with desire as she was, one little move of Minju's hips and she felt his head push in.
"Fuuuuuuuuck Daaaddy…" she gasped as he held her tight, "is this what it feels like… mnhhhh… to lose my virginity?"
"Yes baby… but a lot more can go inside." Jae was still reeling from hearing his teenager acknowledge she was losing her cherry to him, "Do you want to keep going? This might hurt you a little at first" "Mn hmmm," Minju affirmed both with her words and by lowering her hips just a bit more. "Ouuuuwww… just be gentle daddy, okay?"
How could he not be? Despite the fact that Jae had wanted to jump his beautiful daughter for longer than he cared to admit, his only desire now was to make her first time the best he possibly could. Jae's love for Minju deepened immeasurably as he helped her down, slowly, another inch onto his cock. The tiny brunette shrieked when her father's head cleared her hymen. It didn't hurt a ton, but she was glad he had done it all at once. Though he'd stopped to let her adjust after taking her virginity, she wanted immediately to continue.
"Oh god… keep going daddy," Minju begged, moaning as he was nearly halfway inside her.
Her little tunnel was tighter than he had even dreamed; Jae hoped he had the stamina to see his little daughter climax. Neither of them could be certain how long it took, but at last Minju felt her mound connect with her dad's pelvis. With an utter mixture of pleasure, pain and the stretching of her insides, Minju had never felt so full in her life.
"Mnnph… you're penis is sooo big daddy… is it all the way in now?" Minju asked, barely able to get the words out.
"Yes Minju'" her father replied, feeling her flinch when he pulled her hips even closer, "does it feel okay honey?"
Minju smiled markedly big, pressed her forehead against her father, "Yes daddy."
"What honey?" he asked, wondering why his daughter looked so happy all of the sudden.
"I'm just so glad it was you dad," she replied, glad to have told him.
"Me too Minju, and you're doing so good" Jae replied, "you ready to keep going now?"
Minju replied by shaking her head yes and giving him big, puppy-dog eyes. She bit her lip as he slowly lifted her hips and slid his cock out from inside of her, all the way to the tip. She felt immediately too empty, satisfied only after the ridge of his cockhead passed back between her lips.
Jae held his little one fast as he helped her back onto his pole. She was watching below where her father's cock was sliding slowly back into her, forehead still pressed against his. Her breath kissed his lips, so he kissed hers as they once again connected at the hips.
It was the most passion Jae had ever experienced, buried inside his daughter's previously unclaimed pussy and seeing her love every second of it. Apparently he wasn't going fast enough for his eager daughter, because next he felt her feet clamor to his hips to help them along.
She lifted up and then back down again. "Oh fuck dad," she gasped, colliding with him and then pulling up again. Already, Minju felt each stroke building her towards a climax. Only she'd never felt anything like it before. Having anything inside her, especially something as large as her father, was entirely new. She wanted more, and kept urging her hips up and down to feel her dad impale her again and again.
Now he was helping Minju by holding each of her round cheeks in his hands and lifting. Her tank top, which they had neglected to take off in their haste, was rubbing against his shirt and she definitely looked more adorable in it as he fucked her.
She wasn't an experienced lover, so some of Minju's efforts to slide her father in and out of her were clumsy and experimental. Jae decided that made the incest they were sharing even more wonderful.
"Daddy…. daddy!" She cried, "Fuck me… mnnnggghhh… just like that."
The sun shone down through the trees and kissed Jae's baby across the cheek, clamoring arms and all the way down to her tiny thighs which were flexing to keep her daddy fucking her. Jae loved holding her. They'd hugged so many times before. He'd held her close, embraced her after long business trips and taken her in his arms when she needed consoling. Jae was so happy to give his daughter, once again, exactly what she needed.
It was even more appealing to be making love to her out in the fresh air of an orchard they'd come to with the group. Knowing his wife, son, and their guests were only a short distance away, maybe even within distance to hear the cries of his daughter as his cock touched her deeply, was indescribably sexy. They must have been a real sight, Jae thought; his beautiful daughter perched on him and his bare cock entering her over and over.
"Daddy….unghh…. I feel strange," Minju warned him, "can we stop for a second?"
Jae wanted to appease her, but he'd heard his young daughter's breath quickening and felt the way her hips were rotating to try and get his tip to stimulate every millimeter of her womb. Knowing that they were both approaching a significant moment together, he couldn't just stop. So he did halt for a moment, but only to grab the cloth he'd draped on a nearby branch. He flapped it once and laid it crudely on the ground, all with the arm not wrapped around Minju, his cock still fully immersed in her tight pussy.
Minju just held on tight, enamored by the way her dad just wisped her around like it was nothing at all. When she came to rest on her back with Jae hovering over her, she felt impatient to know what would happen next.
Her curiosity was quickly answered. Jae slowly unsheathed his cock until his tip nestled just between Minju's outer lips before plunging it back inside all in one motion.
"Ouuuuuwaaahhhh… Daddy…. ohgodd…" she screamed. Jae didn't care that anyone nearby might have heard.
"Owww Daddy… it feels bigger this way!"
Jae responded by spearing her again, hips coming smoothly against hers. His tip touched her so deep he knew he'd prodded her cervix. She was tinier than his wife for certain, and the thought of his unprotected tip that deep in his fertile daughter made Jae throb inside of her.
"Oh Minju… you are perfect honey… such a good daughter." Jae assured her, continuing to fuck her steadily.
Minju blushed and squirmed as he complimented her, "I love you so much daddy…uhhh…. uhhh… I'll be good for you whenever you want."
Minju smiled bashfully, feeling affectionate with her new lover, She loved seeing her dad so lustful as he pushed the straps of her tank top over her shoulders one at a time. She watched him, lifting her neck of the soft grass and feeling his hand tug her tank top and strapless bra off of her chest.
Even lying down her teenage breasts looked incredible. Jae held one in his hand as he urged himself in and out of Minju's taut pussy. Her wetness coated him and eased each stroke, but she was too tight for him to last much longer. And feeling his warm hand on her breast and the way his penis reached her deeper than before, the pressure she'd experienced before had returned.
"Minju…" her father called. She loved hearing him say her name, "Baby… I'm going to come soon."
Minju's eyes widened. She tried to concentrate through the increasing sensation she was feeling from her dad fucking her. It took her significant effort to take her eyes off of her father's cock disappearing into her and the way her abdomen swelled each time it did.
"oh fuck…really daddy?" She asked, sounding excited and looking it when her father shook his head 'yes.'
Minju wanted to tease him, knowing he'd be worried about whether she wanted him to finish inside her or not.
"Oh dad…" she moaned, "But you don't have a condom on….uhhh… does that mean you're going to shoot all your cum inside my pussy?"
Jae could only growl upon hearing her words and it made him fuck her harder.
"I had my period a couple weeks ago… ohhhfuuuck…I think I could get pregnant really easy now daddy."
She could see the look on her dad's face. She knew it was what he wanted. Try as he might to consider stopping, Jae was caught up in the increasing pleasure of his daughter's tunnel squeezing his shaft. Jae made a feeble attempt to pull all the way out of her, but Minju was ahead of him.
"Uh uh," she denied him, wrapping her legs around his back
Her eyes stared up at him, telling him she had no intention of letting him away. Jae knew he'd soon climax and that if he did so while still immersed in his baby girl there would be no turning back. He couldn't lie to himself; as Jae thrust into his eighteen-year-old's pussy and heard her gasp and moan, he knew he wasn't going to pull out.
An image of his only daughter, the one he had loved her entire life, pregnant with his child flashed across his mind. She was so young and beautiful; but he now imagined her looking even more perfect with a belly showing she'd been impregnated by her dad. What they would do, where they would go… it didn't matter at that moment, as long as they were together.
"It's okay daddy," Minju promised him,
"But Minju, are you sure?"
"Yesss… oh daaad," she panted. Minju couldn't have been more beautiful to her dad at that moment. Rays of sun gleamed bright across her bare breasts, which shook each time their hips joined. Her face looked angelic; she scrunched her nose now that her dad had picked up the pace and she couldn't control the building pleasure any longer. "Cum in me daddy, please… I want to feel you making me pregnant."
God was his daughter so flawless, so innocent and beautiful. She really did want to be her father's forever. She wanted him to take her away and love her… make love to her as much as they possibly could. She wanted to make a baby with him and be the companion that he always deserved. It was the last thought she had as his thrusts pushed her over the edge.
"Daaaaaaad!" She howled. It was indescribably sexy to watch his little girl fumble to wrap her arms and legs around him as Jae shoved his cock into her over and over when she began to orgasm.
Minju's body froze, or at least it felt like it. Blackness washed over her eyes as she was assaulted by a surge of pleasure. In reality, her legs and arms were squeezing tight while her dad fought to withdraw a few inches and continue fucking her. Her hips were grinding into him and her body trembled as she came. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she never wanted it to end.
Then there was something new. Minju's pussy had added plenty of wetness to their incestuous junction in the process of her orgasm, but this felt different. She opened her eyes and saw her dad's eyes narrowed in concentration… or distraction… or whatever it was, but then she realized he was cumming inside of her. He had felt the clench of his Minju's walls upon his buried cock and been able to withhold no longer.
As Minju squirmed and gasped through her first sexual orgasm, her first time with her dad, and her first unprotected sex, she knew instantly that the warm gush flooding her insides was her father's semen.
"Oh god dad…. I can….uhhh…. I can feel it!" She couldn't believe how much fuller she felt as his cock throbbed countless times into her. She was immediately overwhelmed by another wave of sensation.
Jae had never come so hard in his life, and he buried as deeply into his young daughter as possible while he did. Jet after jet, he coated his fertile teenager's insides with his forbidden sperm. Knowing that his daughter was prime to be impregnated, that she was cumming as it was probably happening, and that his tip was still pumping out his incestuous cum right against her cervix… Jae only came harder.
When it was finally over, Jae collapsed on top of his daughter. It took her longer, but Minju eventually came to, and she knew she'd remember the feeling her spent father's comforting weight atop her for a long time. She prayed it wasn't the last time she'd experience it.
Minju also sensed his semen flooding her entire pussy, it was still warm and she could feel it attempting to work its way out because it had nowhere else to go. Minju almost giggled knowing that her father's penis was probably too big to let it out; thinking that meant it was even more likely to make her pregnant.
The sun warmed Jae's back, and his daughter his front. Her soft breasts were squeezed between them, and he could feel her chest rising and falling as she slowly regained her breath. He'd absolutely loved feeling the eighteen-year old writhe and twitch while her orgasm slowly tailed off. Now he was just happy to be able to hold her while they accepted the reality of what they had done in each other's arms.
After a few moments, Minju finally spoke:
"I love you daddy…"
Her voice sounded tentative. Jae, inquisitive, put an arm down and lifted his head up to look at her.
"…But you're really heavy!"
Jae smiled and quickly rolled to the side, snaking an arm around Minju's neck. They both shared a laugh and Jae pulled his daughter closer to him.
Suddenly Minju felt like something was missing. In the process of taking his weight off her, Jae's cock had evidently slid out of his daughter's quim and she no longer felt so full. Looking between them, Minju could see her dad,, still mostly hard, covered in her wetness which for some reason made her feel a little embarrassed. Jae's arm wrapped around her and caressing her back made that feeling subside.
Then, while they were both still looking, a white gleam appeared at the taut, bare opening of Minju's pussy. It slowly grew until an entire pool of cum had overflowed and was heading down Minju's thigh from her tiny hole.
"Oh no daddy," she said playfully, "some is getting out!"
"I think it's okay honey, I'm pretty sure there's a lot more inside you."
Saying that made Jae's cock throb, he wondered if he'd be hard for his daughter forever. The white trail of spunk that came from inside his daughter where he'd put it was the perfect culmination of the story that had begun on their first day of vacation. He knew now that he'd always wanted this. Yet, it had taken his daughter coming of age, the possibility of losing her, and her permission to do so before Jae could allow them to take their love to this level.
He wanted her to be pregnant already. Looking down at his beautiful daughter, the sheen of sweat on her face, the bunched up tank-top under her breasts and the mess they'd made below, Jae was incredibly happy. Wanting to oblige her, he placed the head of his cock under the stream of white cum that had leaked out. Scooping it up, Jae pushed his tip back against Minju's entrance and tried to return into his baby's pussy. He couldn't help also slipping his head back inside, to which Minju immediately shrieked.
"Daaaadyyyy," she whined. "that hurts!"
She was still sensitive from her first time, but she realized what he had done and smiled for him when she did.
"Just keep it there, okay dad?" Minju said as his head stayed firmly planted just past her entrance.
"Okay honey, I just wanted you not to worry that my stuff was leaking out."
"I can't believe how much is in me dad, you definitely didn't cum that much before!"
"I know honey, I guess I've just been wanting to do that for a few days."
Minju gasped dramatically, "A few days?? I thought we were only learning the last few days?"
Jae gave his daughter a knowing look and she smiled back.
"I guess this isn't what mom had in mind when she told me to "ask my dad." Minju said, holding up quotes as she repeated the words she'd heard so often.
"Umm… no, I don't think so."
Jae dared to thrust ever so slightly so his tip moved around in his daughter's opening. She quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him and showed him her wide, disapproving eyes. Jae didn't know that he'd ever be able to take advantage of such a beautiful setting and the alone time with his gorgeous teenage daughter. A part of him wanted to disobey her and fill her up again.
"Dooooon't!" she pleaded, "I promise daddy, I just need a little time and then you can fuck me again."
He still urged a few millimeters further.
"Pleaaase…" she begged, "I'll tell mom!"
"Oh you will, huh?"
"Yeah, I'll tell her that you taught me about touching," she said, remembering the night that she sat in her father's lap. She felt his cock pulse to his heartbeat, glad it was only his tip inside of her.
"…and I'll tell her you taught me how to put on a condom." Minju could feel her own body buzzing as she recalled the feeling of her father's cum coating her belly as she stroked him.
"….and how you taught me how to get pregnant…" Minju was practically panting.
"You know, I don't actually think she'd be mad if you told her any of that." Jae said, realizing that if she explained no further it would have just been the topics of conversation his wife had avoided with Minju. He could see that his daughter was talking herself into excitement, glad to know that she was as happy about it as he was.
"Well not if I told her that you taught me by getting me pregnant!" She said adorably.
"We don't know that yet Minju."
She squirmed around. Thinking about it made the teenagers whole body excited.
"We'll have to try plenty more times before you can tell her that for sure." Jae advised his daughter, who immediately beamed upon knowing that her dad had plans in store for her.
She rolled towards her dad and hugged him, bringing his lips to hers and working her hands around his big shoulders as she kissed him. It was soft, tender and full of love and acceptance of each other. Minju knew that she wasn't supposed to, but she loved her dad as so much more and she was ecstatic to be his lover and his daughter both. The way he held her, the way he kissed her, and the warmth that remained deep inside her was something she'd had her entire life from her dad. Only now, it was different. It was better.
Somewhere in the distance, Minju heard her mother call out to them.
"Minjuyyyyyyyy!" she heard, and so did her dad.
They were safe where they lay, but both knew they couldn't stay there forever. After another call from his wife, Jae helped Minju to her feet. There was nothing either of them could do to stop the white spunk from working its way down her leg, but both of them loved seeing it. Minju ran her finger up her leg and licked at it, tasting her dad's spilled cum.
Jae could only look on in amazement when she smiled after saying 'yumm," like when he'd taken her out for ice cream. His mischievous little eighteen-year-old was going to be a real handful now that he'd allowed her explore every one of her curiosities. He helped her back into her shorts and admired her tiny hips as she wiggled back into them. He got his own handful of her perky breast before fixing her shirt and bra. Jae wasn't really worried about dealing with her, just worried how he'd keep his hands off her when prying eyes were around.
"I don't wanna go back daddy," she told him, hanging on his shirt as he urged her toward the fence. Jae loved that nothing had really changed between them, and yet everything had.
"I know Minju', but we can't disappear just yet. I promise we'll figure something out but for now we have to go on like nothing happened?"
"Until you fuck me again right?" Minju said sweetly, shaking her butt into his pelvis as he helped her up the fence.
"Uh huh," Jae agreed, not being coy about grabbing her soft cheeks and urging her upward. "And I hope that's soon."
Minju checked to make sure the coast was clear and then swung her leg over, leaning down to kiss her dad on the lips before she ambled down the other side. "Me too," she replied. Jae was incredibly nervous when they met back up with the group. As he might have expected, Minju played it totally cool. She'd stopped to make sure she looked just as pretty as always, smoothed out her clothes, and wiped away a small remnant of their forbidden deed from her inner thigh. Aside from being extra cheerful, Minju didn't seem to be worried at all.
"Where on earth did you two get off to," Jae nearly laughed at the way she'd put it.
"We got tired of picking so we sat down on the hill up there," Minju responded, pointing.
Still trying to be cool for his daughter, the damned Sun-woo kid said "booo… lame!" Minju looked back at her dad and smiled anyway.
"What the heck," Eunju said, "couldn't you have told someone?"
"Sorry mom," Minju said, "I guess we just got kinda caught up,"
"Sheesh, you two…" her mother said, "you can talk for hours."
Minju wrapped her arm around her dad, wanting to scream because she was so excited about their secret.
"I guess we can, huh dad?" She asked, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.
"You've got lots of questions Minju'" he said, hugging her with one arm, "Sorry dear, I guess we lost track of time."
"Well you didn't do a great job picking either, good thing some of us aren't lazy like you both."
And that was it. Eunju went back to talking to her friend, Sun-woo and Do-yun carried on a conversation here and there, and it appeared to Jae that Minju would do everything she could to make him nervous. Admittedly, she loved watching him fidget, knowing that nobody would guess she was walking around with her daddy's spunk inside her, working hard to find its fateful place in her womb.
Minju couldn't help herself. At dinner, she made sure to sit close to her dad. Right in the middle of him talking she placed her hand on his inner thigh. Despite his subsequent glare in her direction, she proceeded to rub her hand on him until he was fully hard.
When she was happy with the result, she moved her hand to his and passed him something. It was damp, Jae knew immediately, but a quick glance down confirmed that his daughter had not put her panties back on and now they were scrunched up in his hand. Minju excused herself from the table shortly after, leaving her dad there in agony. When she didn't return a few minutes later, his wife got a text that Minju was checking out the cider making in the building next door.
"Arghhh…" she said in frustration, "Jae, your daughter has run off again, she says down to the cider machine or something. Will you please bring her back here, the food will be here any minute."
The girl was clever, he had to give her that.
Jae practically ran the direction he'd seen Minju go, finding her out the door at the end of the bathroom hall and waving to him from behind a nearby barn structure.
As soon as he reached her, Minju grabbed her dad's shirt roughly in the front and lunged up to kiss him, swinging him around the corner of the barn. He looked around feverishly, realizing that his daughter had actually picked a very private spot.
"I couldn't wait daddy, I'm sorry," She said in between kisses.
He could only be a bystander as Minju quickly fumbled with his belt and shoved his pants down to his ankles. Again he looked around… nobody.
Minju looked so excited as she got to her knees in front of him. She'd never done it before, but Minju knew upon holding her father's hard cock to take it in her mouth. She loved how he groaned when she did it, and even more when she pushed almost half of it in. Minju choked a little when she felt his tip at the back of her mouth, amazing her father as she repeated the motion.
She licked him from his base to the tip and then sucked eagerly before circling her tongue around the sensitive skin. Jae was speechless, standing there in the beautiful setting sun, holding his daughter's head as she blew him for the first time.
Minju knew if she did well that she might make her dad shoot in her mouth, but that wasn't where she wanted it. Still in control, Minju stood up and shimmied out of her own shorts once again. Jae immediately reached out for her, wanting her as much now if not more than before. Minju tugged at her dad and then turned around over an old wooden barrel.
"Fuck me again, please daddy?" she said, looking back at him and biting her lip.
Jae was on autopilot and approached her without hesitation, His daughter gasped when his cock prodded her pussy from behind. Even after sliding an inch in, Jae knew he wouldn't last long.
"Minju, you did so good I'm going to cum already." he warned
"I know daddy…unhhh" she said, pushing her hips back so he penetrated her deeper, "I wanted to be quick….ohfuck….just shoot your sperm in me again. That's all I need."
That, Jae didn't dare question. He took hold of his daughter's tiny hips and shoved all the way into Minju's pussy, slowly, but it one long stroke. She gasped again and panted to keep her breath.
Jae put an arm around her stomach and one around her chest, pulling her upright and impaling her at the same time. Minju was surprised he lasted as long as he did, loving the way he manhandled her as took her from behind. Her own daddy, fucking her pussy that he'd already cum inside once that day… it was the most wonderful though that had so recently been only a dream.
"Oh Minju," he said, "fuck baby… you're so tight…." was all he could manage before it began again.
He grabbed tight to her hips and buried his cock deep once more. Again he shot plentiful, hot semen as deep into his teenage daughter as possible. Either it was her youth, beauty or the forbidden truth of filling his unprotected daughter with cum, but Jae knew he'd never feel the same with another again. He continued pumping into her, imagining that each pulse was the fateful one that would make Minju a mother.
Minju was, admittedly, a little disappointed knowing she wouldn't cum again that time, but when she felt her dad's cock squirting into her pussy again, she forgot about it. Minju, too, hoped that the warmth spreading inside her for the second time that day would assure her pregnancy. She ground her hips back into him, feeling him flinch as his sensitive tip touched her deeply inside.
The freshly filled teenager reached back and stroked her father's neck. "Ohmygod dad, I want you to do that to me every day!"
Before Jae could protest his daughter stood on her toes and removed him from inside her. Jae gasped and whined. Once again, cum flowed out of her as she disengaged and Minju's hand shot to try and keep it in.
"I bet I'll get pregnant now, right daddy?" The naughty look on her face was not one Jae would soon forget.
"I hope so little one, but we can keep trying anyway."
He watched in awe as his daughter quickly pulled his shorts back up and buttoned them, followed by her own.
"I think you're right," she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him and then whispering, "after dinner I want to try being on top."
She once again left him, scampering back to the table before him. Smart girl, he thought.
"I can't keep up with this one," Jae said, sitting back down as if he was exhausted, which he was.
"Aww, sure you can daddy." Minju answered, "just keep trying."
He knew what she meant, and he fully intent ended to. Later on that night he would find her in an old t-shirt of his and nothing else, lying in her bed waiting for him. They tried again that night, more than once. No more lessons, no more condoms and soon enough they planned to have no more worries about the feelings they now shared.
By the end of the vacation, Minju and her dad lost count of how many times they made love and Jae climaxed inside his beautiful little girl. Each time, they buzzed with excitement about the forbidden act and what it might bring. Minju hoped she'd soon have the wonderful feelings her mother described of new life growing inside her. Jae pined to see his daughter's belly swelling as well, loving her beyond measure and sharing her desires completely.
"You're mine now baby," Jae had said to Minju as they lay next to each other on the final night of the vacation. Minju had kissed him and looked into his eyes intently before responding:
The soft glow of the bedroom lamps made everything feel warmer than usual. I had just finished clearing the last of the birthday cake plates when Chaewon told me to close my eyes and wait on the bed. My heart was already beating faster. It was my birthday, and she had been smiling that secret little smile all evening, the one that meant she had something planned.
“Keep them closed, Seojun,” she said, voice light and playful from somewhere near the closet. “No peeking or the surprise is ruined.”
I sat on the edge of the bed like she asked, hands resting on my thighs. The apartment was quiet except for the faint city sounds outside and the soft rustle of fabric. A few seconds later I felt the mattress dip as she climbed on.
“Okay… open.”
I opened my eyes and nearly forgot how to breathe.
Chaewon knelt in front of me wearing a three-piece set of black lace lingerie that looked like it had been made just for her. The bra cupped her breasts perfectly, the sheer cups barely hiding the soft pink of her nipples. Matching panties sat low on her hips, and a delicate garter belt held up sheer black stockings that clung to her long legs. Every detail of the lace hugged her body, elegant and sexy at the same time. Her dark hair fell over one shoulder, and the way she looked at me—shy and excited all at once—made my chest tighten.
“Happy birthday, baby,” she whispered, crawling closer until she was between my knees. “This is one of your gifts. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I managed, voice rough. “You look… perfect, Chaewon. Absolutely perfect.”
She smiled, cheeks turning a soft pink, and leaned in to kiss me. It started sweet, the way our kisses always did, but quickly deepened. Her hands slid under my shirt, warm palms pressing against my stomach as she pushed the fabric up and over my head. I helped her, then let my own hands explore the lace covering her body—tracing the straps of the bra, the thin band of the garter belt, the smooth skin above her stockings.
“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” she murmured against my lips. “Wanting to take care of you tonight. Wanting you to feel how much I love you.”
She guided me to lie back against the pillows. Then she straddled my thighs and started kissing down my chest, leaving soft little pecks that made me shiver. When she reached the waistband of my pants she looked up at me with those bright eyes.
“Can I, baby?”
“Yes. Please.”
Chaewon pulled my pants and boxers down together, freeing my already hard cock. She wrapped her small hand around it and stroked slowly, watching my face the whole time. “So hard for me already… such a good boyfriend.”
The pet name made heat pool low in my stomach. She leaned down and licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took me into her warm mouth. The wet heat pulled a low groan from my throat. Chaewon hummed around me, bobbing her head gently at first, then with more purpose. One hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t take while the other rested on my thigh, fingers stroking soothing circles.
“Fuck… Chaewon, that feels so good,” I breathed, carefully threading my fingers through her soft hair.
She pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and kept stroking me with her hand. “I love sucking you like this. Love the way you look at me when I’m on my knees for you.”
After a few more minutes of her careful, loving blowjob she climbed higher and kissed me again, tasting faintly of me. Then she moved up further until her knees framed my head.
“I want you to taste me, Seojun,” she said, voice soft but clear. “Eat your girlfriend’s pussy for her birthday gift to you.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I pulled the lace panties to the side and licked a long stripe through her already wet folds. Chaewon gasped, hips rocking forward. She tasted sweet and clean, and I loved every second of it. I circled her clit with my tongue, then pushed inside her, slow and steady. Her hands braced on the headboard as she started to ride my face properly.
“Yes… just like that, baby. Your tongue feels so good.”
I gripped her thighs and pulled her closer, sucking gently on her clit while two fingers slid inside her. The wet sounds filled the quiet room. Chaewon moaned louder, hips rolling faster. I curled my fingers, searching for that spot that always made her shake, and when I found it she cried out my name.
“Seojun— I’m close—”
I kept going, licking and fingering her through the rising tension until she came hard, thighs trembling around my head. Clear fluid spilled over my tongue and chin as she squirted, her whole body shaking. I stayed with her, gentler now, licking her through the aftershocks until she finally lifted herself off, breathing hard and smiling down at me.
“You’re so good to me,” she whispered, kissing me deeply so she could taste herself on my lips.
Chaewon shifted down and positioned herself over my cock. She rubbed the head against her soaked entrance, teasing both of us for a moment before sinking down slowly. The tight heat made my head fall back against the pillows. She took every inch until she was fully seated, eyes fluttering closed.
“You fill me so perfectly, baby,” she breathed, starting to move. Slow rolls of her hips at first, then deeper bounces that made her breasts sway in the lace bra. I reached up and cupped them through the fabric, thumbs brushing her nipples until she moaned.
We stayed like that for a while—her riding me in a steady, loving rhythm, dirty talk mixed with soft pet names. “My good boy… taking care of his girlfriend so well. Feels so deep inside me.”
I flipped us carefully so she was on her back, still wearing the full lingerie set. The garter straps framed her hips beautifully as I settled between her legs and thrust into her. Chaewon wrapped her legs around me, heels pressing into my lower back, pulling me deeper. Our eyes stayed locked most of the time. Every time I pushed in she whispered how much she loved me, how good I felt, how happy she was that I was hers.
I reached between us and rubbed her clit in tight circles. Her second orgasm hit softer but just as intense, pussy clenching around me as she whimpered my name. The feeling pushed me right to the edge.
“Inside,” she said, voice breathy but sure. “Cum inside me, Seojun. I want to feel it. Please.”
I thrust deep one last time and came hard, flooding her with thick pulses of cum. Chaewon held me close through it, kissing my neck and whispering sweet things until the last aftershocks faded.
We stayed connected for a long moment, breathing together. Eventually I pulled out carefully and rolled to the side, pulling her into my arms. The lace of her lingerie was a little wrinkled now, damp in places, but she still looked stunning. I stroked her hair and back while she rested her head on my chest.
“Best birthday gift I could ask for,” I said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Chaewon smiled against my skin. “There’s more presents under the tree for later… but this was the one I wanted to give you first. I love you, Seojun.”
“I love you too, Chaewon. So much.”
We talked softly for a while longer—about the rest of the day, the cake we had shared earlier, silly little plans for the weekend. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my chest. Every now and then she would press a soft kiss to my collarbone or nuzzle closer. The lingerie stayed on until we finally got up to clean up and change into comfortable clothes, but even then she kept the soft afterglow of the evening wrapped around us.
Later we climbed back into bed, this time under the covers, tangled together. Chaewon curled into my side like she always did when she felt safe and happy. I held her close, still feeling the pleasant warmth of everything we had just shared.
My birthday had been perfect—not because of any expensive gift, but because of her. Because she had wanted to celebrate me like this, soft and intimate and full of love. I closed my eyes with her in my arms, already looking forward to every quiet morning and every passionate night still ahead of us.
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Tags: smut, heavy angst, arguments, meta-narrative, igenuinelyshedatearwritingthis, grownassmanbtw, not an easy read.
13k words
Part 2 of Wings, were made to fly
Best consumed on fanprose
Everything is still in the house. Too still. The dishes are done. Neatly, stacked in the dishwasher, gently trickling water. The dining table, a glass panel with see-through history, work documents piled neatly on one side, hugging the wall.
The house is a chamber. Windows seldom opened, doors rarely ajar. Agreed on, by both inhabitants, because creating openings in the capsule means letting dust, the ugly, in, letting it settle.
Everything’s clean. Nearly spotless. The marble floors have been mopped. The clothes in the laundry aired to dry. The walls are all in this sanitary, pure white and silver, like a single speck of dust would be nigh impossible in this expanse-
“I fucking hate you.”
From the bedroom, the girl, Eunchae, storms out, head in hands, her steps quick but aimless. On closer inspection, her simple oversized tee is the same shade of purity that’s plastered all over the walls, her hair in a smooth, wavy curtain like she just got it done.
Behind her, you trail, near lazy, like you’re used to the words, simple black joggers and simple black shirt, clean as the rest of her, as the rest of the house.
“Get the fuck back here.”
“Fuck you!”
“Hey!”
Bang.
“It’s always this shit with you! All the time. It never fucking ends, never fixes itself like it’s supposed to-”
“And you think that this is all on me?”
“Some part of it is you, at least admit that, you fucking prick.”
Bang. Bang.
“I’m sick of your shit, Eunchae.”
“Yeah? Are you? You’re going to fuck off now, are you? Call it quits for real?”
You click your tongue. You try to steady your breathing. Stay calm. Stay calm. Her words are blunt. Blunt and rude, blunt because they aren’t sharp. That’s what you’ve been reminding yourself every day, right?
“Let’s stop dodging the issue here.”
Eunchae spins to face you, her face frosty, her cheeks flushed. She looks almost drunk.
“And again with that. Don’t you feel repetitive, always flipping things back on me with that shit? What are you, a robot? Recorder? Metronome?”
“Stop trying to get a rise out of me! This is pointless!”
“Is it? Everything that doesn’t help you get your way is pointless? We’re only allowed to follow the plot you’ve made for us, is that it?”
“No!” You say, finding this whole thing ridiculous, “The fuck? All you have to do is listen to reason! Where is this taking us? Back to the same old shit we’ve always been doing.”
Eunchae’s mouth opens like she’s choking back a laugh, struggling from spitting it right into your face.
“News flash, dipshit,” Eunchae shakes, “everything we’re doing right now is a repeat. Like a stupid fucking sitcom. And you’re the fucking star, assface!”
You roar. “Don’t yell at me!”
The house echoes your ferocity- literally. When the two of you were shallower, in earlier days, she’d take an unconscious step back, an instinct upon your voice reaching this decibel. But now? Her hide’s grown thicker, which means all she does is raise an eyebrow in that particularly annoying way, the one that gets under your skin. Her lips flat. She looks like she’s about to kick you in the balls. And fuck it, the ethics. You wanna throw hands.
You swear, the amount of effort required to prevent you from going full on ballistic has popped several veins in your skull. You know how it looks, played this little finicky game before, with the bloody mirror in view as well.
You redden, purple up, and it takes a hot second before the natural complexion of your face returns. And, pathetically, it’s only then you note your balled fists. You hate it. You don’t like this look, a sentiment shared by your partner. Anger doesn’t get you anywhere.
You drop your tone. Drop everything. She’s just another person. She can’t touch you. All she’s saying are meaningless words. You’re better than this. Than her.
Your next words are sanitised, hands slipped back in your pockets like you don’t give a damn. “We need to start talking like normal human beings.”
Eunchae’s tone follows yours, no longer shrill screech. “And how’s that been working for you? Do the results look satisfactory?”
Her eyes cast to the room around you, like she’s coaxing you to take a look at everything yourself.
Hell, she makes things so difficult.
“We at least get somewhere when we aren’t screaming bloody murder.”
Her reply is scathingly quick. Like repeats turned ad hominem.
“There’s no need to stabilise your driving when you’re on a roundabout with no exit,” Eunchae bites. “Like you always like to say, pointless.”
You snap. “God, fuck. Eunchae, please. For fucks sake! Fucking please!”
Lord knows you’re fucking trying, hands in your hair, wincing and all. Eunchae turns her head to the side, like she’s ignoring you. The truth is, she doesn’t want to let it get to her. You power on, because there’s gotta be goddamn light at the end of this goddamn tunnel.
“We need to settle this issue. And we do that with talking. Not with this… infighting.”
“We need to settle this issue… again.”
You take a breath. “Yes. Again.”
Eunchae levels her eyes on yours. Her arms are crossed, not because she’s angry, but because it’s protective. Protective of all the skin of her arms she has pinched between fingers. “Fine. I’ll make my argument simple. There is no solving this. We’re just wasting our breath.”
“So we should just let this fucking horseshit continue?”
This time Eunchae makes a sound of annoyance. She shifts her weight to her other foot.
“Why do you like that word so much, anyway?”
“Huh?” You furrow your brow, “What? The word ‘fuck’? It’s just a word.”
“Just a word. That’s all that’s ever meant to you, hasn’t it? Just a word. And anyone that doesn’t subscribe to that notion is stupid trash.”
You have no idea what she’s getting at. You’ve been using that word since forever. She uses that word. But you don’t snort. You resist the urge to make any sound that suggests belittlement, any words to betray how it’s raining down upon you. Control. Control.
“Fine. I won’t use that word. Remove the profanity. Whatever. Happy?”
“Really?” Eunchae replies, “What a surprise. Should I be honoured?”
“What is your problem?” Everything that comes out of her mouth seems poised to spite you. Unnecessarily so.
“My problem, dipshit, is your stupid need to level everything to your playing field. It’s absurd. Injust. You’re in control, always.”
“Always? I’m puppeteering your life, am I?”
“You may as well be,” Eunchae says matter-of-factly, “We play by your rules, don’t we? We stop the yelling, talk things out, communicate like we’re in a debate club. Somewhere where you can use your stupid, verbose bullshit to outweasel yourself from being in the wrong.”
You stare. “Are you serious? You think conversing like normal human beings, respectfully and peacefully, is a shit way to resolve our arguments? Even when we descend into playground insults and verbal fuc… warfare? Is this not a logical solution?”
“So nothing else matters, does it? Just the right way to do things? The cold hard facts?”
What is she talking about? “What are you talking about?”
Eunchae scoffs, not even bothering to hide it. The pad of her thumb rubs at her eyes, and it stings, but you’ve gotten used to it. Because this happens every time. And you’re not sure when this bled into normalcy.
“Forget it.”
“What?”
She doesn’t reply. Her lower lip shakes. Your hands are in the space, grasping for something, whole body shaking and shuddering with all the effort you’re putting in to just reach.
“Eunchae, talk to me. What’s all this? What are you on about? We can’t even communicate right now.”
“Of course we can’t!” Eunchae screams, and you can’t even fake your surprise, eyes widening, caught in a moment where nothing makes any logical sense-
“You’re not listening! You never do!”
“Huh?” You say, flabbergasted. Preposterous. You’ve done nothing but try to listen.
“I don’t care anymore. Get the fuck out of my house.”
“Your house?” Your voice rises. Shit. Tone it down. “We bought this place together. Even split. Fifty-fifty.”
Your resist the urge to add, the fuck you mean your house?
“Then draw a line! I’ll stay behind my fifty percent. Just leave me the fuck alone!”
“Eunchae,” you slap a hand to your forehead, “You’re going to run from this? Again?”
“I don’t care! You win! I give up, give in. Whatever you’re going to say, you’re right!”
“Eunchae!” You shout. Fuck it. You need to get her to listen somehow. She’s not receptive to anything right now. You’ll apologise later.
Probably.
“Work with me here! I’m trying my best to talk to you. We can’t keep running away from our problems. They don’t just magically disappear.”
“Don’t they?” Eunchae retorts. She’s forsaken the urge to rub her tears away, to give a crap about the trails down her face and falling off her chin. “Isn’t that how it always goes? We talk, we agree on something. You dictate what I say. Sure. Happy for a couple of days. Otherwise, we take a break. A week where we start over from zero. We kiss, have awesome make up sex, and everything’s forgotten, isn’t it? Pause, incident, pause?”
You don’t retort. You can’t. It’s true, regardless of how wrong it is. That’s how it is. That’s how it always has been. Putting it brutally, the two of you discard each other when shit hits the fan. The attraction is fleeting. Intermittent. Hell. Like… disease.
It takes a moment for you to realise Eunchae’s already stalked away, moving past you. She defeats you, in that moment. You’re still staring at the same spot, because you’re not sure you believe what’s happening right now.
“So we’re just going to let this go?”
“Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it,” Eunchae mutters, her voice soft, lost.
This isn’t victory. Not for you, not really. This is a resignation. There was no fight here. There’s no cause for celebration. All Eunchae did was just roll onto her back and tell you to get on with it.
You walk out. Grab the keys, slip into slippers. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Clear your head, get some space, whatever. You have no idea what to do. Whether to move forward, or to hang back.
Eunchae sits by the dining table, motionless. She’s another piece of the furniture. Pure, clean. Whatever to distract from what this all is. Does it make sense? Pfft, no. Of course not. Does it hurt?
Eunchae hangs her head in her hands and cries.
____
In another instance, maybe, just maybe, things play out differently.
If the rules of the world weren’t written this way. If everyone said, hey, okay, do your thing. It’s your little corner of the world, I won’t intrude. A world free from judgement maybe. Maybe.
It’s like this, see. You try to play things properly, really. You put all the extra little thoughts in. Maybe too many at times. You act, no, play, no, am the perfect boyfriend, to the best of your abilities. On judgement day, you should at the very minimum be tilted to the correct side, wholly because of your own actions.
Things are happy at the beginning, romantic. You wipe the ice cream off her lips. She giggles. The Han river. Noodles and fried chicken. Spicy bokkeumbap. Yeah, things like that.
For a good while, a very good while, you’re happy. Content. She’s support in your fragile little world, and things are great. The two of you push deeper, wading into the marsh, not looking back. Hell, not even looking forward. Looking at each other.
And that’s the moment. Right there. Pause the video. Zoom in. Right fucking there. Take out your notebook.
See, at first you think it’s a joke. Horror stories concocted by your mother told to her friends whenever they come over for dinner and girls’ night. About how cohabitation is a test. A real make or break. About how getting closer means getting further apart. And other nonsensical horseshit.
Taking a step forward, but forward’s the wrong direction. Like bringing this person in means the end for everything else. And look, you’re smarter than this. Smart enough to know not to fuck this up. And to know how not to either.
But the house is a warzone. One that deceives you at first. You enter, weapons lowered, taking in the scenery. Oh, those are some nice flowers. Put them by the side. Look at the paths! They sparkle.
And then you realise the whole fucking place is laced with land mines. Kablooey.
And hell, why do things keep escalating? You’re not on an escalator, you’re not playing a roguelike videogame. What’s this, Tetris? Putting the blocks and pieces into place speedily without fucking up the arrangement?
The first time was bad, sure. Eunchae’s tired of always having to bring your clothes to the laundry room, always having to make the bed in the morning. She just wants things to be neater, nicer.
So you explain how it seems ridiculous to you that she believes a laundry trip is mandatory once a day, considering that two people times two outfits is at most fourteen articles of clothing, a day. Which doesn’t even fill up the machine you bought halfway.
She calls it unhygienic. You call it uneconomical.
It gets heated. Stupidly so. It’s the first time you find yourself genuinely angry with her, and you don’t know why. She cries, and it’s the first time that she’s ever done that in front of you. So you panic.
Fine, you give in. Compromise. You’ll even dump the clothes in the washer for her.
That pisses her off. Because she doesn’t want to just win. It’s never been about the victory in battle for either of you. It’s about the war. She needs to make you understand. And agree that she’s right.
But it doesn’t make sense.
Over time, things change. It’s less emotional turmoil and more brokering, a painful game of sorts. But instead of decapitated heads rolling it’s simply layers unraveling in front of you like unbundled canvas. And the picture it paints, not pretty.
You make deals. Bargain your way to allow you to drag her to your side. Barter trade.
Bring your weapons to the table: Cold hard logic against metaphysical morality. Raise them up and fight.
And after, the two of you have peace. Come back together. Like Frankenstein; your bodies meld. Heat, passion, till your eyes roll back into your skulls. It feels better that way, raw and unprotected, vulnerable after so many hits.
Then your hearts. Stitched together. Smiles. What were we even arguing about? It feels so stupid now. Love blooms, because love is like most flowers. Seasonal.
And the two of you let the festering problem reach further, hold tighter.
——
Your feet are light on the pavement. Coffee. Need coffee. Starbucks will do. A roadside coffee shop will do. Anything will do.
Clangle. Past the Christmas decoration, past the little lights.
The barista is sweet, serene, adorned with an elf hat. She’s pleasant, taking your order with a gentle smile and a clear lack of care for anything in her immediate surroundings.
So coffee takes a while. And she kind of puts too much sugar in it. But whatever. That won’t be enough to ruin your day.
Sweet is the season. Your right hand, clasped around the bag, the bag containing the artificial softness you didn’t really bother to wrap up. Whatever. She’s going to love it.
You shift in your brown wool jacket. No time to waste.
She’s already got everything set up, of course. The treats, the tree, the candles. She’s got a Santa hat on, a Santa-red dress. Her face lights up when you toss your bag over like you’re going to bludgeon her and bash her head into a pulp.
“Hey babe!” She laughs, hands sinking into the softness of the puffy toy through its protective plastic layer.
“Eun-ah, you’ve done so much. It looks so good!”
You reach over to try to kiss her, but the sheer size of the soft toy provides some resistance. The two of you laugh, but meet anyway, your mouth over hers, dominating the kiss.
“Cute dress,” you smirk.
“Thank you,” Eunchae gives a little bow, swaying from side to side.
“Can’t wait to peel it off.”
“Pervert!”
You laugh.
“At least let me have dinner first! There’s always only one thing you want on your menu, isn’t there?”
“It’s the only food I need,” you reply, twirling your finger in the air like you’re summoning a spell. “I’m a repeat customer.”
“Well, you’re going to have to wait. Until after we get some actual food in both of our bellies.”
“Ever heard of the term, start with dessert?” You toss the pondering question over. Eunchae hits you with her Christmas gift.
“I told you. Wait. I have more in store for you. You haven’t even gotten to the best part yet!”
—-
Coffee. Coffee. How it clears the mind. Rids the fog, some would say.
You sip slowly. The drink has long gone cold by now, but you’ve been nursing it. Resisting. Taking as long as you possibly can.
Through the glass panel of the kitchen, where you can watch Eunchae. Watch as she moves quickly, rapidly. Ruthlessly efficient are her hands. She does her work. Fingers a blur. She does the laundry. Quick are her steps. Routine. Routine.
Your eyes watch her. Unmoving. A provocation. Seeing when she reacts. Your mind? Cycling a million possible retorts to cook her like a well done steak the moment she opens her mouth.
“Stop looking at me,” she says, obvious with her anger.
“You want me to leave?” You reply, as if one long walk wasn’t enough.
“Do whatever you like. But give me some privacy. Stop looking at me like I owe you rent. It’s unnerving.”
You take another sip. Mug’s empty. “What is?”
“You looking at me. I don’t like it. The more you look at me the closer you get. The more I have to deal with your bullshit. Go away.”
She stacks another one of her shirts on top of the pile, before grabbing the entire folded tower and hurrying off to the bedroom. Like she has anything else to do.
You wash the mug. Place it back on the drying rack the way you know she likes. Your cup kissing hers. You follow.
“So we’re really going to do this?” You say softly. All traces of irritation, anger are gone, replaced by a droning monotone disconnected from emotional appeal. She won’t get to you now, because you won’t allow it.
Eunchae ignores you. The clothes go back into the drawers. Neatly, neatly. Scented with detergent you both agreed to use to clean. Like a promise to blend.
“We’re just going to avoid this, again. For another week. Maybe two. Then we’ll remember to start talking.”
She just packs.
“You don’t give a shit about us.”
“And you’re saying you do?” Eunchae looks up at you defiantly from her kneeling position. She opens the next drawer, turning back not even a second later.
“Clearly, I do. I’m the only one actively trying to solve the issue here.”
“There’s no issue between us.”
“There is an issue.” you say pointedly.
“No there isn’t. Not one either of us can solve, evidently.”
“Do you want things to improve?”
“In this snail race?”
“Eunchae.”
“What? Go do your thing. Your little distancing routine. Go out. Have a drink. Chat with your buddies. Pretend to check out that chick at the bar. And come back in a couple weeks when you want to fuck me again.”
You sigh. You’re not even irked at that. It’s all so… desensitised. You’re tired. “We have to at least try, babe.”
Eunchae tenses unnaturally. Was it the word? Or everything else? She stands up, making a means to move, but you’re in the doorway.
“Excuse me.”
You don’t budge.
“Excuse me, please.”
“Don’t run away from this.”
“It’s not about how fast I can fucking get away from you, mister. It’s about how quickly you’ll catch me.”
She’s moved up right into your personal space, fearless in a certain sense, but her eyes don’t meet yours. You’re a barrier, and nothing else. Her eyes are motioning to move past. And you feel it’s all grossly unfair.
Is there anything to say that could change the current predicament? Any way to reason yourself out of this one? One that anyone could understand?
Finally, after a few moments, when Eunchae realises you’ve gone still, she looks up. She’s not daunted by the proximity, not affected by the look in your eyes.
Her eyes, still red like they’ve been rubbed raw. Her lips are slightly swollen, like you’ve been kissing her too much. She looks so much like something that needs protection. And you’re not impervious like you’ve been telling the world. Everything begs you to hold on.
“What, you want to fuck me already?”
You blink. “I thought you didn’t like that word?”
“Yeah, but you love it, don’t you? You love that word, and all the things that come with it. It’s all you want to do, all you want to hear, right? Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!”
“Eunchae!” You say, scandalised. Like you’re scandalised.
“Isn’t that all you want? My body? That’s what keeps you running back, right? You only give a fuck about my body.”
You pop. Zero to a hundred. It’s not true. It’s a blatant lie. It’s everything to rouse you. And what she insinuates, you detest it.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you spit, “I do.”
You repeat the lie, because a part of you knows she hates this just as much as you do, all these naysayers with their opinions on what the two of you can be, will be, should be. Your hand seizes her wrist, bringing the two of you closer like you’re about to kiss her I love you.
“You’re right, Eunchae. That’s all I give a shit about. You. Your body. That’s what you want to hear me say, right? That you’re just a warm body I can use by my bed, a convenient way for me to drain my balls.”
Eunchae’s eyes darken. Magic, the way they manage to switch up like this. Like she wants to eviscerate you with a trebuchet.
“Fuck you.”
You let her pass, because you can’t stand to look any longer. You shouldn’t let her go, but you feel like screaming at the walls.
You’re wrong. You mean so much more to me.
But they’ll never see that.
——
“Hey, what do you think is wrong with us?”
You glance over at Eunchae from your seat at the glass table. Her figure’s sprawled out on the couch, her head cast skyward like she’s stargazing through the ceiling.
“Wrong with us?”
If she nods, it’s imperceptible. But you heard right.
You turn to your hands, on the table, fingers outstretched and flat on the cool glass, back when they didn’t yet learn to curl into fists. The house smells like human petrichor, mixed in with that suffocating smell of sanitizer, of appearances.
“I think it’s about what’s wrong with me, isn’t it?”
Eunchae frowns. “No. I’m a part of it too. It takes two hands to clap.”
“Does it really though?” You reply, “Besides. I have two on my own.”
Eunchae glances down to look at you. From this angle, with her feet facing you and her body resting comfortably, she looks cute. Her chubby cheeks on her small face. A squishy look.
“A part of it is me. At the very least. We’re both guilty here. That’s why we keep crawling back to each other, unable to call it quits.”
“I mean, hasn’t this gone on for long enough? Why are we still torturing ourselves like this, like a pair of obnoxious siblings stuck under the same roof? Why can’t we just call it quits?”
“...I don’t know,” you say finally. And even if you did have the right answer, the one that solves all of this, would it matter?
Fundamentally you know, there’s something wrong with all of this. There’s these things called rules, or whatever, lines drawn in the sand you’re supposed to abide by. Wards, fences, walls, signs all pointing in the opposite direction. Don’t do that. Don’t follow your heart. Not to her, young and pliable.
You slowly pick yourself up from the chair, and Eunchae watches closely as you cross over. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move a muscle. Her eyes just hold on to you, tracking your movements till you’re kneeled, on one knee, by her head.
Quiet. A moment for the two of you. Just the two of you. You watch her, and she watches you. Her gaze is pensive, pliant, waiting for your next move.
You reach over to give her a kiss on the lips. One that you give all the time, but the kind she never gets tired of. When you pull away from her delicate softness, the hints of a smile grace her cheeks. You rub her head for a couple gentle moments. Hopeful ones.
And then you get up and start moving again, Eunchae watching you gently as you start busying yourself with life.
—
Eunchae never throws anything, in all her rage. Then again, neither do you.
In fact, the house is often so spotless, so incredibly untarnished, that simply by appearances the two of you seem to be living a perfect life.
—
One more check. A whiff of your collar, a straightening of your cuffs. Things have still been in an uncomfortable flux, but just because the two of you currently hate each other doesn’t mean you’re going to miss out on important obligations. The tickets to her rehearsal are still there. You’re not going to just not go.
A quick glance in the mirror, which reveals that you look tired, tired from fighting and leaving and being hollow, from avoiding.
Combat between two urges, one that declares that things should be over, and the other that yields to the idea that you need her back by your side, that you miss her warmth.
Fight it out.
Eunchae took the car; You grab an umbrella just in case and start to make your way over, in your navy suit and brown oxfords. You look good, a guy that’s clearly out for a date, some attractive looking event, and you cycle through the million things you’re about to say.
And you think to yourself, the funny thing is this. Adjacent to Murphy’s law, nothing that anyone thinks will actually happen does happen. There’s always that additional layer, that extra hurdle life throws on the track that catches one off guard, that derails, that can’t be prepared for even with a million years of careful consideration.
So you choose to eliminate as many bad options as possible by trying to think of them first. Get rid of all the worst ways this night could go. Scrap the breakup story. Scrap the messed up performance. Scrap the why did you come? I didn’t want to see you here.
And ironically, try not to think of all the good endings.
Her dress is red, for some reason. Like a Chinese ornament, or something. Hair done up, in a singular, smooth ponytail, a plume that rests gently behind her. And the thing is, she knows your seat, she gave you the damn tickets after all, so she knows immediately once the stage lights cast down on her that you’re here.
Her back straightens. She almost smiles. Almost. A quick bow and she turns to the keys, sitting with her feet tucked together.
She looks good. Nothing like the clipped seraphim she was every day of the past week. Her makeup conceals it all, brings out her eyes, always bright, spotlights in the dark.
She tests the keys, the same little pattern you’ve heard time and time again, at home, at her practices, at her performances. You close your eyes for a moment. You always prepare yourself mentally before her performances. She has her routine. And you have yours.
One. Two. Three.
Eunchae starts to play. The tune wafts in, gentle, romantic. She strikes each key with certainty, precision.
She eats it up right from the start. Her fingers, soft and slow at first, pressing gently when she knows the audience is focusing more on her than the tune. When the music overwhelms, when they start to give in to the message, they speed up, become a blur, tapping notes in succession.
The pieces she chose are good. They always are. And her skill goes without saying. The first song. A short break. A violinist comes on stage. And Eunchae accompanies his second piece.
Her eyes are mirthful. She doesn’t focus too hard on the notes, on the music sheet in front of her. Her fingers already have the song memorised. Her smile mirrors her playing, like she just forgets all about it and seeps into her notes. There’s not a tinge of sadness in her notes, like it never existed at all.
She doesn’t need to glance at you. She just needs to feel.
She gets one more piece. Brisk are her movements. A few people by your side, in the front row, take pictures.
You don’t know if you can live without her.
She comes down five minutes later than everyone else. And you’re not sure who needed to mentally prepare themselves more.
You stand in the first row, watching as all the other performers greet friends and family. All till a swish of red distracts you.
She walks purposefully, smiling and thanking as eyes fall on her. Her pace never falters. Swiftly, she reaches you. By your side.
Come on. You can’t even look slightly pissed if you tried. You smile, and she does as well, her chin dipping shyly.
“You-”
“Yeah. I came.”
Eunchae beams, her pearly whites showing for the first time in two weeks, and she turns away and does a little spin. The crowd parts naturally to give her room.
“How was it?”
“The performances? Great. The band was amazing.”
“But I was better?” Eunchae shifts her weight to her left foot, crossing her arms.
“You’d better be. Otherwise I’d be dating someone else right now.”
“Prick,” Eunchae shakes her head, “can’t you be nice and stop teasing for once?”
You chuckle. “You were amazing, babe. Gorgeous. As you always are. Everyone was transfixed.”
She glows. Everything feels better. No need for anymore words. The two of you communicate just like this. Her eyes glisten.
“Hey, none of that. You still need to receive all the praise and appreciation.”
Eunchae nods since she understands. She blinks a couple times, and they disappear. Later.
“I’m hungry. I’ll see you in a few minutes?”
“Go,” you nod. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
Eunchae nods, the little angel, turning and leaving like a flare shot away from a flare gun, leaving your life. Others watch her go, then watch you, watching her leave.
You get it. And damn. There’s so much more.
In the car, you’re a shaking wreck. Everything feels wrong. Everything feels foolish.
And that’s even before Eunchae knocks on the windscreen, telling you to let her in. The lock clicks, and she surges in, grabbing a hold of your neck and kissing you hard.
Her lips meld to yours, mixing cherry lipstick with strawberry lips.
Your hands seized her shoulders, and each subsequent kiss deepens. It feels right, it feels good. Like she left, but dammit, she came back.
“Close the door,” you say between kisses, “the aircon is leaking out.”
She laughs, eyes wet, but does so anyway. She tucks herself neatly into the seat. And contact is broken. Just for a moment.
Because you’re pulling her in right after, again. And it’s a good while before the headlights of your car come on.
“I’m sorry,” Eunchae says first, the two of you on the highway. No, you don’t miss the details. Her hand clasped in yours. The other one fiddling with the hem of her dress, nervous like she’s been hurled back to her past, to your first date. The way she looks to the front because it hurts to look at you.
“We’re so stupid.”
“We’re not. Just… difficult.”
She laughs again. Weakly. Like she’s tired of it. Both of you are.
Your hand leaves hers for just a moment, so you can make a safe right turn onto the highway. And it comes back to rest on her thigh.
Her eyebrow perks up curiously, and you nonchalantly give her thin leg a squeeze. She shakes her head. She doesn’t even need to say it.
“I’m just telling you, this dress is a bitch and a half to take off. It’ll take like, ten minutes. And a lot more space than the interior of a car.”
You do your best to look disappointed, like that’s really the first thing on your mind. “Later then. What do you want to eat?”
And it’s strange, because food feels almost secondary. And it feels like it’s because nothing makes sense.
——
And look. The makeup sex is amazing.
Every time the two of you come back, it’s a couple days where the two of you can’t do anything else but tangle up in a mess of limbs and kisses.
It’s so good that in a messed up way it seems almost worth it to keep breaking apart, because returning feels consistent, probable.
The two of you stumble like drunken sailors all over the house, pulling and pushing each other around, gasping, moaning, groaning with round after round of mind boggling pleasure. That’s the only time things appear even a little messy. Her. You. Madness. Psychosis.
She becomes pliable, pudding, doing whatever you want and whatever you ask, loving it, making it feel like everything’s right with kisses down your cheek. A private moment for two, right?
“Let’s go out,” she says.
“When?”
—
“Get away from me!”
“No!” Eunchae screams. “You started this!”
You snort. “I started this? Me? When you literally just barged into the bedroom and screamed your head off?”
“You let it happen again! How did you let it happen again? What’s the point of saying things have changed, will change, if the same mistakes are going to happen again?”
“Things have been improving! I’ve been doing what you asked! Picking up the laundry. Cleaning the toilet. Waiting outside the office for an entire additional hour to pick you up! It’s been two months without incident. This was just a mistake. I was busy. It slipped my mind!”
“Of course! You were so busy you couldn’t remember to not let our house catch on fire? How do you nearly fuck up boiling water?”
“Just get one of those automatic ones that turn off by themselves! My boss dialed me with something important!”
“Made out of moneybags, are we?”
“Oh come on. It’s the simplest solution.”
“Well then, excuse me if I prefer using an item that’s not even spoiled rather than investing in a minor upgrade.”
“Then that’s your problem, isn’t it?”
“My problem? Yeah? Do I have to burn my fingers off the next time for you to get it?”
“The hell? That’s just being bitchy, Eunchae!”
“Fuck you! Can’t you not be such an unbelievable… pricklord?”
“…Okay, that’s just weak.”
“Fuck off! I should pour that kettle of hot water over your head!”
“Are you insane?”
“Maybe I am! God knows I’ve already lost my mind living here long enough. With you!”
“Yeah yeah, everything is me, isn’t it? I’m the problem here.”
“So you think you can pin everything on me instead?”
“That’s not what I said! I’m done with this.”
“Then leave! For good! Has no one grown a pair of balls in this house? I know I definitely haven’t, and the last time I checked, you’ve got enough for both of us! So be a man and move on from me!”
“So it’s on me to leave as well! You haven’t learnt to be an independent woman yet, is that it?”
“There is no independence here, under your charge.”
“Stop saying that!”
—
No, really. You should be the bigger man here. The actual man. The one you’re defined to be. Moving on is logical. This will pass, and so will she. Plenty of fish, in this sea.
—
You know what it looks like. This isn’t a Mexican standoff, poker table, an all-in gamble. There shouldn’t be this much trepidation on the fact that both of you are seated on opposite sides of the dining table for the first time in what feels like forever.
“The truth is we can’t understand each other.”
Eunchae doesn’t react for a moment, like the truth doesn’t faze her. Which makes sense. Because the words have always been written here. On the walls.
“We don’t agree on things. We don’t see eye to eye. We even… think differently.”
“Your point being?” Eunchae says, and you’ve never felt the coldness in her low tone before, but you do now.
“We don’t work. We don’t even have the same value system. What you think is right and what I think is right, they don’t align. It’s like being a shitty MBTI match. I’ve tried. You’ve tried. We do our best to carve a way out for both of us, but we never come out the other side. It’s starting to hurt the way I look at you. And I know it has affected the way you see me as well.”
“So I should go, then.”
“No,” you say immediately, like it hurts. “No. It’s just… it’s bad.”
“Get to the point.”
You look up into her eyes. Her tone is detached, no, lobotomised, and it’s completely foreign. But the look in her eyes is anything but. Exactly the same way as before. Bright, but dimming with each passing moment. Affected.
“I… I don’t know what to do.”
Eunchae stares. Then the tears burst from her eyes.
And you could say a million things about that moment. About how it hurts, how it feels wrong. About how afraid you are of each next passing second, unsure where this road is going, or if there’s any road at all.
Your heart knows. Your mind knows. Each sparkle down Eunchae’s cheeks knows. She bites her lips, redirecting the pain outward, into something she can feel. She sniffs.
“You should let me go.”
Your throat goes dry. The right thing is to agree, right? Let her lead a better life, you’d do that if you truly loved her. You had no right to keep her for so long anyway, or to keep her at all. So you should just say it. Everyone would be happier this way.
But. What’s stopping you?
Eunchae’s breath catches, half because she actually needs air when she’s dying like this, and half because she’s watching your own tears fall.
“I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to. I don’t know why-”
“I don’t want to either.”
And you wish she didn’t say that. Because the truth is you love her. But that doesn’t matter, at least not anymore. Not here. Love is bullshit, disaster, the problem. The only thing that can’t be explained in any sort of rational manner-
“I still love you. So much.”
And Eunchae sobs. Loudly. Her eyes crush into this ugly shape, her teeth gritted like she’s in pain. And the truth is, the two of you should be sick of each other. The two of you should hate each other. By coexisting, logic states that the two of you aren’t a match. The two of you can’t even decide on dinner sometimes, for gods’ sakes.
She just says, I eat anything, even when the both of you know she has particular foods she doesn’t eat, and then you go I eat anything, because you actually do. And then the two of you just stand there, in the mall, waiting.
“We can’t keep going back,” Eunchae murmurs, rubbing at her eyes, her whole body trembling with each uncontrolled weep. And love, which is the sweetest pain, the most intense, it all just… seems so pointless. Why? Why couldn’t you have been different? Why are you still fighting for this? Eunchae’s next words make so much sense.
“All we’ve been doing is coming back to this moment. It’s a loop. We break, we fall. We come back. -hic- We never move on. You argue with yourself over and over again if you’re doing the right thing, like it matters to deny what’s in your heart.”
She sniffs again, and your hand shoots out to grab the tissue box by the end of the table. To drag it into the space between you two like a marker.
“...Should we just go?” You say, clearing your throat like you’ve been yelling for seven straight hours at a wall.
“I don’t know,” Eunchae admits, shoulders hunched, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. She looks up with this sad smile, this look that tells you she can’t care any more about the consequences. “How could I ever know?”
She’s right. You’ve always known she’s right. You picked her because she’s always been right. Right in her own way. Just. The whites on the wall don’t need to peel for you to understand. There’s no need for a bell to signal the end of this ballad.
“I’d still try, you know? Over and over again. No matter how long it takes. Regardless of if it matters. If it changes anything.”
“At the very least, I’d still be with you. Even if it hurts. I don’t know if I know how to go.”
“I know you would,” Eunchae almost laughs, this unnaturally light sound in this sombre mood, “But it’s okay. We can move on. Pretend this never happened. Pretend you never had the urge to come to me, to take me, use me, communicate something in a way that matters. Pretend you never loved me.”
“It sucks,” Eunchae admits, “We could call it quits here, right now. And it’ll feel like we’ve dumped a pointless amount of something to get to nothing. And maybe in a few years you’ll really forget all about me, realise that this was all pointless. Move on to someone younger, prettier and better. And that’s just how life works. It allows you to fixate on all the right things, and you’ll just get rid of anything that’s even halfway difficult to approach.”
Eunchae sniffs again. Her tears have stopped, and this moment really does feel final. There’s nothing left to write.
“I should go,” you say.
You should go.
“The house,” she begins, turning to face the walls. Everything the two of you have taken shelter under, that’s been built together. Fifty-fifty. Even. Split.
“Keep it. It’s yours.” You say. The truth is, even the idea of retaining your share of everything feels like a black mark you won’t be able to erase. It’s best to just leave everything as it is. Cut yourself off completely. Remove yourself from any suspicion.
“This house was made because of you. It should be left to you.”
Eunchae nods, slowly at first, like she’d argue. But arguments now are… needless.
The two of you pack like a couple. An actual one. She just hands things over wordlessly, things that go neatly into the next part of your suitcase. Clothes are easy. Everything else is difficult. Because how do you find things that she hasn’t touched, hasn’t graced? How do you just… remove everything that’s been tormenting you for months?
And it’s the way the tears start again, because each layer you unpack is another thing, another stupid reminder of what the two of you blended and made. Eunchae sinks to the floor, cradling one of those predrawn artworks the two of you never got around to finish painting, and even you can’t find the strength to pick her back up. You called it stupid. She’d promise you it’d be finished in two weeks, together. Bought it last year. On holiday. You watch her. Face concealed, that wavy curtain of hair you always thought hid her beauty from the outside world now looks like refuge, the last thing stopping her.
“I don’t want you to go.”
It’s soft. But genuine.
You zip up your suitcase. “I’ll see myself out.”
You declare it like she doesn’t trail behind you anyway, white following black, all the way to the door.
“It’s… for real this time,” you say, exhausted. This has been a long time coming. Eunchae nods, like she agrees, her eyes still staring straight at the center of your body. Maybe she can see your heart. But she probably can’t. Because otherwise she probably would have stopped you by now.
“... goodbye?” Eunchae says slowly.
And you look past her, at the house. The room. Everything that’s still there, that Eunchae will slowly have to filter out, toss away. And you almost smile. Maybe a part of you will still be here, even though it doesn’t matter. You won’t forget, will you? This should feel important.
The house still smells like her. You wonder how long it’ll take her to get rid of your scent.
“Bye.”
And the important thing here is not how you leave, turning away, letting the door close on you without support, without either of you having a hand on the handles, but the way she reacts. Because you might not goddamn see it, but it’s everything that’s happening behind the door, the thing you can only imagine is happening, that really gets you.
How she slumps against the door, forehead first, then sinks. The way she has to curl up against it, a ball of ashy hair, her nails scratching at her lower lip, eyes empty.
The way her fingers still find a way to scratch at the wooden front door, like you’re on the other side, and she’s the one waiting for you to open up and let her inside.
And your feet still haven’t left the dais.
Does it matter? Is everyone right? Is this lie of pretending she doesn’t exist, like she isn’t right fucking there, is this the best thing us as human beings could come up with?
Should you give a fuck? Don’t we pride ourselves on freedom of expression? If this fucked up way of constantly thinking about her, constantly coming back to her is wrong? Then what isn’t?
Desecration. Humiliation. The she knows or she doesn’t. Innocence and youth and the you shouldn’t do her like this, like everything’s true in your heart is false because it cannot be seen. Anguish.
The door clicks.
Eunchae stumbles away from the door, eyes widening like gold is falling from the sky. She barely gets a foot away before it swings open, and you’re quick, rushed.
You grab her by the scruff of her neck, pulling her up, tossing your luggage to the side. You don’t care if the handle cracks the marble.
And yeah, it looks like a fight. And it is a fight. A fight to protect the one goddamn thing you love.
Your lips find Eunchae’s. She’s pretty, all with her rosy lips and panicked gasps, but the kiss is anything but.
You press hard. Your fingers go to her hair, her neck, pulling her in. Her nails curl against your thin tee like she’ll scratch your heart out.
It takes a moment for you to realise she’s crying. Wait no, you are. What does it matter?
You pull apart for a fraction of a second, so you can realign yourself and kiss her again. She cries directly into your mouth, and it’s a rough pound against your chest that finally separates the two of you.
“Why?” She croaks, your lips stained with the salt of her pain, “you were supposed to leave. You had to leave! Now we’ll just go back into that same rhythm again!”
You don’t reply, just pull her in again. And yeah, she goes powerless. She kisses you back, harder than you thought possible, her fingers tugging hard at your shirt, pulling it up and bunching the fabric up.
The two of you break only when desperately necessary, both heaving like the two of you have summited a peak.
“I can’t go. Won’t go. Don’t go.”
And Eunchae squeezes her eyes tightly shut. And your lips go to her cheek, right below her eye. All this isn’t new to you, save for the fact that this is the latest time you’ve mended back together.
Her hands go to your back, squeezing you tight, keeping you close. She doesn’t draw away, only pulls you in deeper, because the both of you realise losing this is the only real defeat in both your lives.
She pulls your shirt off, over your head. Her hands rest against your chest, next to your beating heart.
“I missed you,” she admits, between laboured sobs.
“Me too.”
“Bedroom.”
The two of you stumble backwards, a clumsy waltz back. You guide her, slowly, all while she starts pressing gentle kisses on your neck, your collar. Breathes in your scent hungrily like your memory can fade away from her nose, given time.
You guide her hands to find the top of the mattress. Her fingers close, take in the textile feel of the fabric.
You reach for the hem of her shirt. And you wait, longer than you should. Long enough to hesitate.
But she nods. And you pull it off of her.
Her bra is simple. Grey. Your lips find hers first, a kiss to reassure, to remind her this is happening, your hands thumbing away her tears, which are stilling.
She doesn’t shiver at your touch, doesn’t flinch when your lips go to that spot beneath her ear. You’ve been in this spot before.
All she does is tug you over her, closing the distance to nada, till you can feel her own need on yours. Her hands disappear behind her back, and it’s quick, the way her bra is tossed aside with her left hand, and her cute little handfuls are bared to you.
And sure. Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe you’ve taken things too far. Maybe what’s important is that you don’t fucking care. You want her. She wants you.
You kiss her shoulder. Then her breasts. You’re painstakingly gentle with each, placing gentle kisses on each mound, your hands rubbing her waist in circles. She arches her back, her breath catching in a delightful little gasp.
“More,” she asks cutely.
You swear you’ll protect her till the day you die. You use your thumbs first, introduce them to the sides of her breasts. It’s a formal greeting, letting her feel the warmth of your touch as you draw the curves of her chest before you start applying any pressure.
Her fingers find your hair, moaning as your tongue paints her sensitive skin, glides over her nipples.
“Oh fuck,” you hear. You grin inwardly.
You rub her peaks against your tongue, rub the surrounding flesh with your fingers. They feel good in your hands, good as they always would. That’s the exercise here.
Eunchae shudders, her elbows squeezed to her side like it tickles, her fingers clenching on open air.
“Mmnn!”
“Love you, babe. So much.”
You kiss her lips again. Your fingers brush over her rubbery nubs firmly, insistently, a metronomic motion.
“God yes,” she says, smiling with her eyes.
Below her shirt, she has shorts on, denim booty shorts, previously concealed beneath her oversized tee. Your hands are already slightly edging downwards, and the only thing that stops you is a sudden giggle from above.
“What?” You say, confused.
Eunchae reaches for her own chest, gently squeezing and humming softly. “You look so stupid going to take my pants off while you’re crying.”
You laugh, and she joins in. “Doofus, you’re crying too.”
“Fuck,” she says, grinning as she does so. Then her hands come down to help. One firm push from her, mixed with one sharp tug from you, and everything else falls off of her.
“Damn, beautiful.”
Eunchae laughs, meaning to pull you back up to her, but you’re already snaking your way down below, till your knees are off the bed and on the floor.
“Not wasting time, are we?” She says idly, propped up on one elbow, the other tossing her hand back behind her.
“All we do is waste time,” you reply, pulling her legs apart without another word.
Her pussy, soft, inviting, looking like it can’t fit more than a couple fingers in there. They shine with arousal, and you don’t need to look up to know she’s slightly flushed.
You take the same approach you did with her tits, rubbing gently into the flesh of her thighs, and pressing loving kisses to either side till she nearly kicks you from her giggles.
“You don’t have to be shy, you know.”
“Funny,” you reply, “coming from you.”
You plunge your tongue between her legs.
Eunchae gasps, her eyes widening as it hits her all at once. You go deep, plunging into the depths of her core while making her sure her legs go still.
You lap gently. Take what’s coating your tongue and go around her outer lips first, give both sides equal attention before you spread them again, drinking from the pool between them.
Eunchae shudders, throwing her head back, an unexpectedly low tone passing from between her lips.
You press down on your tongue, using your head for added effect to apply more pressure, letting her feel the heat of your own tongue.
“Shit!”
“Mmm, yum,” you reply.
Eunchae clamps a hand over her mouth, her eyes all wide, doing a remarkable job and concealing her pleasured groans even as your gentle laps against her pussy turns to lashes.
“Now who’s being the shy one?” you tease, gathering spit on your tongue as additional lubricant and letting it fall lewdly between her legs.
“Shut up. This is… different.”
You cock an eyebrow. “Different? What, does it feel like you’re being watched?”
“I don’t know, maybe, yeah.”
“Like you need to care about giving a fuck. Just keep your eyes on me. And you know I like it when you voice your enjoyment.”
“Fine, jeez, it’s embarrassing, you know,” Eunchae says. You don’t reply, already leaning forward for a second helping.
This time, a couple of your fingers work to pull her further apart, because the truth is, she’s tight. She always has been, and maybe always will be. You rub a finger between the slit, because you know it’s better when she has time to get used to it. And you know she loves it when you take your time with her.
And you haven’t even gotten to the button poking out from beneath her hood yet.
“Ah!” Eunchae cries when you seize it by the lips, legs shaking.
“God, you eat pussy like you’re famished.”
“Only yours,” you reply, pressing another gentle kiss to her thigh, giving her but a moment’s respite. “And like you’d blame me.”
A chuckle is her response, one that’s cut off as you really start to go for it, apply full strokes the way you’ve learned she enjoys.
She enjoys everything really, anything beneath your touch. But you’ve worked hard to know what really gets her going.
“Don’t cramp on me now,” you warn, because it’s happened before.
“Ah! That- guh, that’ll be later.”
It’d be better if it was never, because it really does get in the way sometimes. But occasionally that’s how it is.
Eunchae locks her feet together behind your head, sinking back against the sheets, arms spread wide. You glance up, able to observe her heavy breathing, her chest heaving as she tosses her head left, then right like she’s having a bad dream.
She decorates the room with her soft cries, her tone a blend of rich timbre and youthful charm. Your hands keep her legs well apart, fingers almost drumming a pattern into her skin.
“Fuck, that feels really good,” Eunchae confesses.
Her hips start to move in time with your tongue, bucking back and forth gently till she hits a particular spot and lets out a shattered moan.
“Right here?” You ask, redirecting yourself to find that spot you brushed by moments earlier.
The increase in amplitude of her voice gives you the answer.
“Oh my fucking-,” Eunchae buries her mouth into her elbow, “please don’t stop. I think I might cum.”
“I won’t stop, baby,” you say, your fingers replacing your tongue whenever you speak. Add one, let her feel the intensity. “I’ll keep going, right here, okay? Till you let go for me.”
You lower your head again, and all conversations stops. Just the soft sounds of you sucking on wet flesh and the louder sounds of what it’s doing to her entire body.
“Hnn- oh, oh,” Eunchae snaps her hips suddenly, like she managed to find even more than what she asked for.
“Oh shit, oh fuck. That’s really good.”
You almost scoff. As if she hates the word.
And the one thing about her is that she doesn’t lie. When she gets going, starts reaching her peak, it’s obvious. It comes in the slight tremble in her legs. Inconsistent at first, little twitches, her toes curling against one another, then more persistently, like a soft electrical hum.
“I’m going to cum soon,” Eunchae says, like you can’t feel it beneath the vibrations of her skin.
You continue your efforts. You don’t speed up, just keep giving it to her at this exact pace, the one that she’s into today, till it’s almost robotic. You don’t speed up, but you don’t slow either, and to Eunchae, it feels like a consistent, growing build up she can’t tug away from.
“Fucking g-mmmhmmph,” Eunchae hums, borderline painfully. Almost there. You will your tongue to continue, no matter how tired it may be.
Her voice comes out in vibrato.
“Fuck! Fuuu-uu-uuu-uu-ck!”
And it’s because her body does too. Her whole body shakes, convulses uncontrollably. You guess orgasms give some people electrical shocks, because her hips twitch and buck powerfully at incredible space, and yeah, you’ve seen this before, but it’s not like the scene isn’t amazing and incredibly hot each and every time.
Eunchae whimpers like she’s afraid, a long and deep orgasm that rocks her entire body, overstimulates every single nerve.
You hold her through it, closing your eyes and letting yourself hear her, hear how well you’ve done her, feel as wetness splashes against your chin.
You hold her till she stops shaking, fingers rubbing into her thighs, easing the muscles. She always gets like this. You pray, no cramps today, please.
Eunchae takes a few moments to gasp for air, a delirious, nonsensical laugh bubbling from between her lips.
“How was that?” You say, fishing for compliments.
It takes a couple of seconds for Eunchae to prop herself back up to look at you. Her eyes are wide, unfocused, her nostrils flared and jaw slightly open.
“You know our makeup sex is the best.”
You snigger, reaching up to pinch her cheeks. It’s still slightly cool from her faded tears. She slaps your hand playfully, scrunching her nose.
“You’re adorable,” you say, and she laughs.
“Come here, you sack of potatoes.”
You pull her towards you, just as your legs clamber back on the bed. Her legs stay splayed open on either side of you.
“Let’s get you out of these, hmm?” Eunchae’s fingers move your pants, almost gently singing a tune as she undoes them.
You watch her for a few good moments, lost in the way she looks, the way happiness evident in every fiber of her being brings a calmness to your heart as well.
You don’t know how you’d deny or ever leave her.
Eunchae seems to notice that she’s the only one actually doing anything, and she gives you that curious look, frowning and for a moment it seems like she’s going to berate you about leaving your laundry hanging about again. You help her hurriedly, shimmying out of your pants.
“Want a blowjob?” She asks, palming your length in her grip. The couple strokes that follow are wholly unnecessary, and only really serve to show how big you are in her hands.
You shake your head. “We have other days for that.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
No idea. You scoop your hands under her, under her sides, gently flipping her like a pancake. She makes a motion to raise her hips. You push them back down gently.
“Stay,” you say softly, slowly pulling her legs apart, lowering yourself till she can feel the heat of your pelvis above and behind her.
“This is cute.”
“Really, cute?” You say, slowly guiding yourself to her entrance. She’s beyond wet.
“Ye-ah!”
You push your hips forward, pressing delicately with each inch. Eunchae’s feet rub gently against the bedsheets, her voice hitching as her body grows to accept you.
It’s slow. She’s tight, but she’s also incredibly wet, so her body kind of tells you when you can sink fully.
“You good?” You ask breathily, your hands shaking against the bed. She feels indescribably good. Soft.
“Yeah,” Eunchae huffs, and the both of you hold onto your breaths as you thrust the last inch into her.
“There we go,” you gasp, feeling way too much at once. You can even discern her own heartbeat as your body drops over hers.
You press a kiss on her shoulder blades, and she rubs the back of your arms gently.
“God, fuck me,” she murmurs.
“Getting to it,” you mutter, frowning. She’s still somehow impatient.
The two of you shift till your hips are comfortably aligned. And then you lift your hips and slowly draw yourself from her warmth.
“There we go,” Eunchae says with a slight hiss, “that’s it.”
Plap!
Her perky derrière claps against your pelvis as it drops.
Plap. Plap! Plap!
“Nngh, fuck,” Eunchae groans, her head falling to the sheets already.
“This might be too much for you,” you say.
“Shut up. Prick with a big dick.”
You laugh. That’s a new one.
The pace gets easy. Eunchae lies comfortably, prone, simply making sure her hips are up at the correct angle to make things easier for you. You focus on hilting on each stroke, controlling your energy and making sure each thrust is even.
But in no time at all, she’s bucking her hips back up as well, meeting you back. And it helps. Feels great, too.
“Mmm, fuck, I really don’t know how I could possibly get away from this.”
“Yeah, it’d be your loss. People do say I have a magic penis.”
Eunchae snorts, and, like she didn’t learn her lesson, it’s cut off again by her need to moan.
“What’s with this position anyway?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s good. mmm... Just curious. You shy?”
Plap!
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe it’s because sometimes you’re too pretty and it hurts to look at you.”
“Bullshit!” Eunchae calls immediately, but then her expression turns serious. “Wait, seriously?”
You press a kiss to her ear; You press another to her cheek.
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you whisper, before you start amping up your thrusts.
And you don’t see it, but Eunchae has a childish grin. And maybe it’s that kid competitiveness in her, but the harder and faster you start to thrust down, the harder her hips seem to rise up to meet yours.
Plap! Plap!
“Fuck,” you groan, tilting your head back. She’s gripping onto you so tight. Your head is swimming. The two of you could melt an ice pack with your shared body heat.
“So good.”
“Yeah? Liking it?”
“Mhmm!”
“Need something more?”
“No, this is great, really! Oh! Just, don’t act like I’ll break, mmkay? You’re gentler than usual today.”
Curious.
“Mmm, just let me know,” you mutter, refocusing your attention on making sure she gets it good. You press another kiss to her cheek, her hair tickling your nose, allowing you to catch a whiff of her pleasant ocean shampoo.
With surprising dexterity, Eunchae manages to reach for one of her hair ties laying next to her pillow, scooping her hair back and tying it into a neater ponytail. And it’s between her incessant moans and coos as well.
She tilts her head to the side, catching your gaze. She puckers her lips, and you get the message, meeting her for a couple of kisses. Difficult to get much more than light pecks in, but she doesn’t seem to complain.
You rearrange to kiss her better, and her ass rises up naturally, her knees tucking beneath her.
“This is nicer,” Eunchae says between surprisingly chaste kisses, “you looked like you were trying too hard earlier.”
“Really? Is that an insult to my endurance?”
“You talk too much.”
Eunchae tugs you towards her again, and you can feel her smiling against your lips, and you’re sure she can feel you too.
“Harder, babe. Come on.”
You nod, pumping your hips forward, more used to this more elevated position. Eunchae flicks her ponytail back, straightening her back as your hands come to rest comfortably on her waist.
“Fuck, darling, you feel so good. Seriously. You’re the best.”
“Good that you know that,” Eunchae replies, “now fuck me like you mean it.”
Your fingers dig into her skin, truth be told, you’re still a little scared she’ll break. It’s just something about her in general. You blame it on her squishy cheeks. There’s something about her that sometimes makes you hold back.
But whatever Manchae wants, Manchae gets. So if it’s a good dicking down, you’d be obliged.
The sounds of your hips meeting grows louder, rising to meet Eunchae’s volume. And her words get filthier.
“Oh god, yes! Fuck me! Harder!”
“That’s it,” she growls, “Yes! There!”
You gasp, overtaken by both exhaustion and pleasure. Eunchae doesn’t ever need to try hard to get you there, ever. Her gift, maybe.
“Mmm, fuck, Eun-ah, Chae, shit- babygirl,” your hands find her ass, kneading softly, something to distract you.
But Eunchae has other plans. She reaches behind grabbing a hold of your left hand with her own, and slowly tugs it forwards.
Towards her back, you think at first, or her shoulders, for stability. But no, she brings you all the way to her head, clasping your fingers and pressing them over the back of her skull.
Then the angle between her thighs widens, and she arches her back fully, letting you see this magnificent view of all of her, that descends past her hips.
Her moans become muffled by the sheets. “Please!”
“Fuck.” You press her down, fully, keeping her head pressed to the bed as you ramp up.
“Oh, yes, like that! Just like that!”
“Are you getting close?”
“Mmm! Are you?”
“You know I am.”
“Just hold on a little bit longer, okay? Mmph! You’re fucking me so good right now, it’s driving absolutely crazy. Keep doing that, you crazy bastard. I love it!”
Ah hell. Whatever.
You keep her pinned, your right hand grubbing her waist tightly; guiding the way her hips thrust back onto your cock so you can grind yourself as deeply as you can into her.
And you’re definitely on the right track, because her body twitches with surprising force, and she tries to tile her head back.
You release your grip on her locks, and she turns back to look at you urgently. You feel her trying to shift your weight. You slow, confused.
“I wanna see you when you cum in me.”
Your eyes go wide. But she’s already in motion, and the two of you reposition till she’s flat on her back, legs wide, you pressed, leaned between them.
She presses her hips up against you insistently, and it’s muscle memory that gets you fucking her again.
“Yes, I’m gonna cum!”
Yeah, you can feel that. Her legs are trembling again.
“Babygirl–”
“Cum with me! Cum with me, cum with me cum with me!”
Pleasure suddenly spikes throughout your whole body.
“Oh fuck, baby, wait–
“Fuck meee… Cumming!”
“Oh fuck!”
You groan, firing off first. It’s a complete crashing wave, one that knocks you off your metaphorical feet, till you’re dumping and groaning and simply gasping at how much it all is, suddenly spilling and shooting and feeling that it’ll never stop.
Eunchae’s a couple beats behind, her legs quivering and shaking with enough strength to rock the both of you as she shrieks, her hands twisted dangerously tight around your arms. Both your moans reverberate, and your eyes nearly bug out of your skull.
With her full-body convulsions, it’s a completely unbelievable and incredible sensation on your member, and it wrings dry any possible remnants you could have.
It actually takes you a couple minutes to process what happened. You nearly ripped your cock out of her from the amount of sudden, concentrated pleasure. Sure, make up sex has always been awesome? But that?
Eunchae murmurs gently, incoherently, her eyes still firmly shut. She’s tugging at you gently, trying to get you over her, and once you regain your senses you let her, the two of you collapsing in a post sex coma.
“Holy shit,” you murmur. “That was…”
“Nnmm, uh..uh huh.”
“Baby–”
“Yeah.”
You’d laugh if you weren’t gasping for air.
After another five minutes, when the hammering in both chests have stopped, Eunchae presses a kiss to your cheek. You jerk your head up, having already nearly fallen asleep.
She gives you another kiss on your lips, then rolls onto her side. You slide into that natural spot behind her, spooning you both.
“Covers.”
You tug the sheets and toss them over the both of you.
“I’m gonna pull out,” you murmur.
“Fuck it.”
You smile against her back.
“You’re crazy.”
“Mhm. Night, babe.”
“Night.”
You help to turn off the lights, then settle back into your spot. Everything feels right, just like it always has. The way you cuddle behind her, it’s like it has always been.
Except. Something nags at you, and it takes you a moment to figure out what’s up.
“Babygirl.”
“Yeah?” Eunchae asks a heartbeat later.
“You thinking?”
“...yeah.”
“About what?”
Eunchae doesn’t reply.
“... Is it about whether anything changed?”
A sniffle.
“Hey,” you say, reaching over. You cup her cheeks. They are damp. You sigh.
“I know. God dammit. I know.”
“It’s the same,” Eunchae murmurs, like it is heartbreak.
“Is it? Is it another loop, baby? Is it not working for you?”
“No, I mean… no. It…”
“What?”
You feel Eunchae shuffle in her position. “We’re improving. We are. You didn’t even dump your laundry in the right basket at first. Now you’re doing it for me. I don’t know how you feel, but I feel like every time, we get a little closer. Closer to that perfect thing we both want, the perfect day we can both wake up to.”
You feel fuzzy. “Then why the tears?”
“Because I don’t know if we’re healing fast enough. What if it takes too long to get there. What if the guilt gets to you? What if one of us gets chased out?”
A pause. You rub her cheeks gently, trying to rid her tears with damp fingers. You don’t know, honestly.
“Then fuck it. What matters is our here and now. And that we tried. I won’t run away from it. If I go down, I go down swinging. You’re what matters.”
“Do you believe that?”
You lie back down, your hand still protectively wrapped around her waist.
“I do. Because nothing’s worth it if I don’t.”
After a while, Eunchae’s breathing turns regular, smooth. You said something that mattered, something true. And it must have comforted her. And even as you sink into sleep, sink deeper into the confirmation that yeah, you know what, you believe in what you said. What does anything else mean in the grand scheme of things? Does anything matter more than the warm body next to you?
The real question is:
Did any of it matter?
Because what else is any of this? Besides video tapes that are only evidence to two?
____
You’re pretty sure you’ve told your knees to stop shaking three times already. And still, they wouldn’t listen.
You rub your hands together. It’s not even that cold yet. Some of the fleece on your jacket must have peeled off. The insulation feels like shit today. Your eyes scan the campus garden furtively, making sure that none of your friends are in the vicinity. You have to be undercover today, or you’ll never hear the end of it.
“Hey.”
Ah crap. You swallow slowly, turning your head to look at her. Hong Eunchae, hair done up in a ponytail, with those bangs that have become her signature.
“Hey.”
“You look like a wreck. Did one of the profs assign a surprise test or what?”
“No,” you chuckle weakly, “that’s not it. But I’m sure you can guess what’s really up.”
Eunchae tilts her head to the sky for a moment, slowly walking over and dropping her bag on the seat next to yours.
“Yes, considering everyone’s eyes on campus will be on you from this day onward, I guess you’d be nervous.”
“Thanks for the sympathy.”
Eunchae laughs. “I mean, what were you expecting? You had the balls to come up to me to ask me out, you’d better have the balls to become the talk of the school for the next few weeks.”
“For the foreseeable future, more like. I can already imagine Yunjin’s instagram post. Comp Eng Loser tries to steal my bestie? I’m gonna smoke his ass.”
“Oh, Yunjin already knows.”
“What?” You freeze.
“Eh, you’ll be alright.”
“You do realise that the both of us have no idea if this is going to work, right?”
“All the more reason for you to not screw this up, then.”
“...Fantastic.”
____
“Emmchhe!”
Eunchae doubles over, her hands clutching her belly.
You pull the ice cream cone off your face, looking positively furious.
“Are you kidding me?”
“You look like Anpanman!”
“Oh it’s funny to you, is it?” You growl, rubbing the strawberry ice cream on your flushed cheekbones. “Seriously? Ice cream slap? This cone cost fourteen bucks!”
“Worth it!” Eunchae sings, throwing you finger guns.
“You!” You snarl, swiping at her face with the cone. Eunchae shrieks.
“Ah! You got it on me!”
A long streak of red slices across Eunchae’s features from lip to jaw, like a really bad nosebleed.
“Deserved. I’m taking a photo.”
“Hey!”
Eunchae’s fingers clamp around the hand reaching into your pocket, halting it. You roll your eyes.
“Fine. I won’t. Let go of me.”
“I don’t trust you! Haha!”
You sigh, watching as the ice cream starts to melt on her soft features. Without thinking, your free hand comes up to start wiping it off. Eunchae’s eyes widen for a moment. Then she giggles. Laughs. Her hands release your own, and she comes up to tap at your cheeks, like she’s checking if the damage has really been done.
You laugh too. Goddammit.
____
“It’s peaceful here,” Eunchae mutters, leaning her head against your shoulders. It’s nice and cool, the perfect temperature to come to the river. Eunchae was right in dragging your lazy ass over. “I thought it’d be busy, but it’s like everyone knows to keep things quiet and nice.”
“Yeah, it’s nice. But your jjapageti is getting cold.”
“Mmm… feed me.”
“You’re such a baby,” You sigh, but you do it anyway. Eunchae giggles, clapping happily.
“Delicious!”
“Yeah yeah,” you smile. Your hand reaches for the fried chicken next. “Try this.”
Eunchae makes an appealing crunch. She hums in joy, her whole body swaying at the taste. You laugh. It’s ridiculous. She even bobs her head.
“You better feed me next.”
“I don’t wanna!”
“Brat.”
___
“So I’m going first?”
“Prepare to have your mind blown, Miss Hong. This dish is about to be so good, it’ll give you an out-of-body orgasm.”
“Pervert!”
“What? It happens in Food Wars! This is culinary expertise here!”
“Sure, sure. But the plating looks kind of simple, don’t you think?”
“Blasphemy! How dare you insult my skills. It’s art. A Michelin recipe!”
“Michelin, eh? You know the tire company-”
“Yeah, yeah, just get on with it. I cannot wait to see the look on your bedazzled face when you try my bamboozling bokkeumbap.”
“Alright, Chef Ramsay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
You watch intently as she scoops up a spoon of rice.
“Get the kimchi! That’s the best part!”
“Jeez, let me eat in peace, will you?”
The food enters her mouth. She chews. Bites. There’s a nice sounding crunch of kimchi. Her face is stoic. You watch with baited breath.
Then she frowns, squeezing her eyes shut and cringing.
“It’s salty!”
“Bullshit!” You leap to your feet, offended beyond belief. You were a goddamn magician in the kitchen earlier!
“It really is!”
“This is biased judgement. Malfeasance!”
“Settle down, boy who cried wolf. I rate it a five out of ten.”
Your jaw slams into the ground. “A five? Where are my boyfriend pity points?”
“Already included. Two of them, in fact.”
You feel like tossing the frying pan at her. Your hands vanish into your hair. This is outrage!
“Try mine.”
“No! This isn’t fair. We need an unbiased judge! I’ll call the neighbours over.”
“Scared you’ll lose?”
Your eye twitches.
“Yeah right. If mine’s a five, yours is not even surpassing a three.”
“Spoon to the plate, dipshit.”
“I can’t wait to puke all over you.”
“Ew!”
You take your seat. Scoop up a plate of suspiciously orange looking bokkeumbap. So what if her egg is fluffier than yours? The rice is the real deal breaker here. Eunchae watches you like she already knows she’s won. What an egotist.
You send it to your mouth confidently. Yeah right, there’s no way she’s gonna beat you. She nearly dropped the knife earlier, nearly caused a panicked mess. You can’t wait to spit it back at-
Your face blanks. You stare. Your spoon clatters to the table.
Eunchae shows her pearly whites.
You stare at the plate. Then back at her. Chew.
“That’s not fair!” You roar, slamming your hand down on the table like you need a drink. Eunchae shrieks with glee, climbing out of her seat and doing a celebratory spin.
“This is your mom’s recipe! How the hell am I supposed to beat that!”
“Eat my ass!”
Oh you’ll do that alright. But you’re still fucking mad.
“This was supposed to be an individual competition! No outside help allowed!”
“I cooked it all myself,” Eunchae says matter-of-factly.
“Using other people’s recipe is against the rules!”
“Uh, actually, dipshit, it wasn’t even in the rules. Brains beats brawn, right?”
“Fuck off!” You turn back to the table, shoving another mouthful of her bokkeumbap into your mouth, “Mommy’s girl. Cheater!”
Eunchae laughs, drumming her hands against your back. You continue eating, shovelling the impeccable taste of her mom’s cooking into your goblet, all while ranting about the injustice of society.
“Hey! That’s my lunch! Go back to eating your three out of ten! Asshole!”
____
The cabin shakes slightly beneath your feet, giving both you and Eunchae a slight scare. She looks up at you, sniggering.
“This is safe, right?”
“Yes, you big baby. Now focus on what’s behind you.”
You turn around, watching as the Ferris Wheel starts to ascend, giving you a great view of the Japanese coastline.
“Wow. Blue, blue, and more blue. Stunning.”
“Killjoy,” Eunchae grumbles, taking out her phone to snap a few pictures to send to Chaewon and the girls. You smile, hands in your pockets, one thumbing a thin chain of metal between your fingers.
“Hey, babe?” You say once the two of you are decently up in the air.
“Yeah? Could you bend over, baby? I want to take a pic behind you.”
You’ll ignore making the obvious joke this time.
“Are you enjoying our anniversary celebration?”
“Yeah,” Eunchae nods happily, then tilts her head to the side. “Why?”
“Rate it?”
“Ten out of ten? You brought me to Japan, babe. I think that’s definitely a step up.”
It’s good that she’s loving it and all, but you get a cheeky idea.
“A perfect ten? Okay then. Guess my job here is done.”
Eunchae narrows her eyes. “What is it?”
“Nothing?”
Her eyes drop to the hands in your pockets.
“What’s that? You’ve got something.”
“Is that so? Why don’t you guess? What has Bagginses got in his pocketses?”
Eunchae rolls her eyes. “Show it to me.”
“You’re no fun,” you sigh.
You pull the necklace out from your pocket, grinning as you see her eyes glimmer and her smile widen.
“Oh my god. I could kiss you.”
“Could? You better kiss me. This is worth at least a dozen kisses from my girlfriend. And a blowjob. And buttsex!”
“Freak!” Eunchae’s eyes widen, but her smile is still plastered on. “Give it here!”
“Giveitses?”
“Oh, stop with that. Come on!”
“Come here then!”
Eunchae cheers excitedly as she moves over to your side, giggling as you gingerly put it on for her.
“You lose this, and you’re paying me back with buttsex.”
“Stop!”
You smile at the little glimmer now added to her shine. It’s perfect, like you thought it would be. For a moment, nothing matters. Not the bill, not the time spent, not what’s going to happen next. It’s just you and her. And that indescribable feeling.
“What do you think?”
Eunchae looks down, her eyes similarly in a state of wonder.
“I love it.”
“It? Is that all you really have to say for yourself?”
She giggles, like she doesn’t even care how much she’s rubbing it in.
“Fine. What do you want me to say?”
“You even need me to tell you?” You say, shaking your head in disappointment.
“Come on. Say the three words babe.”
____
A/N:
This was done months ago. Endless proofreads, endless changes, always feeling like this fic didn’t say what it needed to say, didn’t do it well enough. Finally posting it is… serene. Finally, I told myself, this is it. Exactly how I want it. My only hope is that it landed for all of you. The meaning. The emotions, the words. I’m reminded why my soul has always been for this, for writing things just like this. Thank you for reaching the end.
The villa sat on a secluded hillside overlooking the Mediterranean, white stucco walls catching the last orange light of the sunset. Bougainvillea climbed trellises along the terrace, and the salt breeze carried the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below.
Kwon Eunbi stepped out of the rental SUV, stretching her arms above her head. Her white sundress pulled tight across her chest, the fabric straining. At thirty, she moved with the easy confidence of a woman who knew exactly what her body could do. Behind her, Kim Minju emerged more slowly, blinking at the view through slightly glassy eyes.
"Wine's already in the car," Minju said, holding up a bottle by the neck. "I told you we should have stopped twice."
"You told me we should have stopped three times," Eunbi said, laughing. "We'd still be in Naples."
Their fathers had driven separately. Mr. Kwon — Jungsoo, fifty-seven, silver at the temples, still broad-shouldered from a youth spent in construction — parked the sedan and began unloading luggage. Mr. Kim — Hyunshik, fifty-four, leaner, quieter, with the careful hands of a man who restored furniture for a living — carried the boxes of provisions toward the villa's heavy wooden door.
"Girls, help with the bags," Jungsoo called.
"In a minute," Eunbi said, already heading for the terrace. "We're admiring the view."
Minju followed, bare feet slapping against the warm stone tiles. They dropped onto the cushioned loungers, and Eunbi twisted the cork from the wine bottle with practiced ease. No glasses. She drank first, then handed it over.
"We earned this," Eunbi said. "The drama wrapped. Your audition's done. Three days of nothing."
"Nothing except our fathers," Minju said, but she was smiling. She took a long swallow, the wine staining her lips red.
"They'll fish and drink and leave us alone. You'll see."
They didn't know yet. They couldn't have known.
---
Dinner was grilled fish and vegetables, bread dipped in olive oil, and bottle after bottle of the local red. The terrace lights cast amber pools across the table. Cicadas buzzed in the darkness beyond.
Minju was on her fourth glass, maybe her fifth. She'd lost count. The wine made everything soft at the edges — her father's laugh, Eunbi's hand on her knee, the way the stars seemed to sway overhead.
"To finishing the shoot," Hyunshik said, raising his glass.
"To getting cast in something good," Minju corrected, and they all drank.
Eunbi was matching her glass for glass. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair coming loose from its clip. She'd kicked her sandals off under the table and her dress strap had slipped down one shoulder.
"Remember debut," Eunbi said, her words starting to blur. "Remember that first showcase. We were so scared."
"We were babies," Minju said. "Actual babies."
Jungsoo watched them both, his glass half-empty. He hadn't been drinking as fast. Neither had Hyunshik. They exchanged a look — the kind of look men shared when they were thinking the same thing and hadn't said it yet.
"More wine," Eunbi declared, reaching for the bottle. Her hand missed twice before she grabbed it.
"I think that's enough," Hyunshik said gently.
"It's vacation." Eunbi poured, sloshing wine across the table. "Vacation means — means no rules."
"Your mother would kill me," Jungsoo said, but he was smiling.
"Mother's not here."
The words hung in the air longer than they should have.
Minju finished her glass and let it tip sideways on the table. "I'm drunk," she announced, as if discovering something new. "Really, really drunk."
"Me too," Eunbi said. They looked at each other and burst into laughter, the kind of laughter that came from nowhere and wouldn't stop.
Hyunshik stood, gathering plates. "Time to get you both to bed."
"No," Minju said, but she didn't move. The world had started tilting gently, and if she closed her eyes, it would probably tilt right off its axis.
"I'll take Minju," Hyunshik said, reaching for his daughter's arm.
Minju let herself be pulled up. The terrace spun. She leaned into her father, her head against his chest. "I'm gonna be sick," she murmured.
"Bathroom's inside. Come on."
He guided her through the villa's dark hallway to the guest bathroom, where she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and retched. Hyunshik held her hair back, rubbing circles on her back.
"You're okay," he said. "You're okay."
When she was done, he helped her to the bedroom at the end of the hall — the smaller one with the twin bed and the window facing the garden. She fell onto the mattress fully dressed, her skirt riding up her thighs.
"Sleep," Hyunshik said, pulling a blanket over her. "I'll check on you later."
She was already gone, her breathing deep and even.
---
Outside, Eunbi had made it to the lounger on the terrace but no further. She lay sprawled, her dress bunched around her hips, her underwear visible — pale pink lace. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted.
Jungsoo stood over her, a glass of water in his hand that he'd intended for her to drink. "Eunbi. Wake up. Drink this."
She didn't stir.
He set the glass down and crouched beside her. Her breathing was slow and heavy — passed out, not sleeping. He touched her shoulder, shook gently. Nothing.
"She's out," Hyunshik said, coming up behind him.
"Both of them?"
"Minju's unconscious. Won't wake up until morning, at least."
Jungsoo stood, looking down at his daughter's exposed body. The terrace light caught the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts beneath the thin cotton. He felt something tighten in his chest — something he'd felt before, on other nights, in other rooms, when he'd watched her change or step out of the shower or dance too close at a family wedding.
The same thing Hyunshik felt, probably. The same thing neither of them had ever said aloud.
"Let's get her inside," Jungsoo said.
They carried her together — Jungsoo at the shoulders, Hyunshik at the feet — and laid her on the bed in the master bedroom. The one Jungsoo was supposed to share with his daughter, the one with the king-sized mattress and the doors that opened onto the private terrace.
Eunbi didn't move when they set her down. Didn't stir when her father pulled her dress up to cover her thighs, though his hands lingered a moment too long.
They stood in the doorway, looking at her.
"It's been a long time," Jungsoo said quietly, "since I've seen a woman that beautiful."
Hyunshik said nothing. But his eyes didn't leave Eunbi's sleeping form.
---
They sat at the kitchen table, the last bottle of wine between them. The terrace doors were open, and they could hear the ocean, the cicadas, nothing else.
"She looks just like her mother," Jungsoo said, staring into his glass. "At that age. Exactly like her."
"You still think about her?"
"Every day." He drank. "Some things don't go away. Some things you carry until you die."
Hyunshik nodded slowly. "Minju has her mother's hands. The same fingers. The same way of holding a cup."
They were both widowers. Jungsoo's wife had died when Eunbi was fifteen — cancer, quick and brutal. Hyunshik's wife had left when Minju was twelve, walked out one morning and never came back. They'd raised their daughters alone. They'd watched them grow, watched them become women, watched them go out into the world and come back older, harder, more beautiful than they'd left.
And they'd wanted things. Things they'd never said.
"I think about it," Jungsoo said. "More than I should."
"Think about what?"
"You know what."
The silence stretched.
"She's your daughter," Hyunshik said.
"I know what she is."
"Then why are you saying this?"
Jungsoo set his glass down. His hands were steady. "Because she'll never know. Because she's drunk and she's sleeping and she'll never remember a thing. Because I've spent fifteen years wanting something I can't have, and tonight — tonight I don't care anymore."
Hyunshik's jaw tightened. "That's not — "
"Don't pretend you haven't thought about Minju the same way."
The words landed like a slap. Hyunshik's face went pale. Then red. Then pale again.
"That's different," he said, but his voice cracked.
"Is it?"
They stared at each other across the table. Two men who had raised their daughters alone. Two men who had watched their daughters grow into women they'd wanted in ways a father shouldn't want.
"Let's make a deal," Jungsoo said. "We swap. Just for tonight. You take Eunbi. I take Minju. In the morning, they won't know anything. They'll just wake up sore and hungover and blame the wine."
Hyunshik didn't answer. But he didn't get up and leave. He didn't say no.
"She's beautiful," Hyunshik said finally. "Your daughter. She's — "
"I know."
"I've looked at her sometimes. At dinner. At holidays. And I've thought — "
"I know."
Hyunshik closed his eyes. "What happens after?"
"After tonight? We never talk about it. We never mention it. It didn't happen."
"And our daughters?"
"They'll never know." Jungsoo's voice was hard. "And if they ever suspect, we deny it. Swear on our lives."
Hyunshik emptied his glass in one swallow. Then he stood.
"One condition," he said.
"Name it."
"Tomorrow night. We do it again. But with our own daughters." He met Jungsoo's eyes. "If we're going to damn ourselves, we do it all the way."
Jungsoo smiled — a dark, hungry smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."
---
The bedroom was dark except for the sliver of moonlight through the curtains. Jungsoo stood in the doorway, watching Minju sleep. She'd shifted in her unconsciousness — her skirt was twisted, her blouse had come untucked, and her lips were slightly parted.
She was beautiful. He'd always thought so. At family gatherings, at her debut performance on television, at every awkward dinner where she sat across from him and laughed at his jokes. He'd wanted her then, and he wanted her now.
He closed the door behind him.
The lock clicked.
He crossed to the bed and sat beside her, one hand on the mattress. She didn't stir. He reached out and touched her cheek — soft, warm, slack with sleep.
"Minju," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"
Nothing.
He traced his finger down her cheek, along her jaw, to her neck. Her pulse beat steadily beneath his fingertip. He slipped his hand lower, to the collar of her blouse, and undid the first button. Then the second. Then the third.
Her bra was white, simple, cotton. He could see the curve of her breasts beneath the fabric, the rise and fall with each breath.
He undid the rest of the buttons and pushed the blouse open. Her stomach was flat, her skin pale in the moonlight. He bent and pressed his mouth to her navel, tasting salt and warmth. She didn't move.
He unhooked her bra. Her breasts fell free — medium, full, with nipples the color of rose petals. He took one in his mouth, sucking gently, rolling his tongue over the hardening bud.
Minju made a small sound — not quite a moan, not quite conscious — and shifted her head to the side. That was all.
He sucked harder, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. His hand found her other breast, squeezing, kneading, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
He pulled back, saliva glistening on her skin. "Beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."
He slid her skirt down, lifting her hips to work it past her ass. She was wearing white panties — the same set as the bra, practical and sweet. He pressed his palm against the damp spot at the center.
Already wet. Her body was responding even if her mind was gone.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled her panties down her thighs, past her knees, off her feet. She lay naked before him, legs slightly parted, the dark thatch of hair between them glistening.
He spread her legs wider. Her pussy was pink and wet, the lips swollen, the clit a small pearl hidden in its hood. He lowered his head and licked — a long, slow stroke from her entrance to her clit.
Minju gasped. Her hips twitched. But her eyes stayed closed.
He ate her like a starving man. Lapping at her folds, circling her clit, dipping his tongue into her opening to taste the wetness gathering there. He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, over and over, until her legs trembled and her breathing quickened.
He pushed two fingers inside her. She was tight, hot, gripping his fingers as he curled them up, searching for that spot. When he found it, her whole body jerked.
"Yes," he whispered against her thigh. "Come for me. Come in your sleep."
He pressed his mouth to her clit and sucked hard, fingers fucking her in a steady rhythm, and she came — a soft cry, her hips rising off the bed, her pussy clenching around his fingers. He drank every drop, licking her through the aftershocks until she stilled.
Then he stood and undressed.
His cock was hard, thick, the head flushed dark. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs, the tip pressing against her wet entrance.
He pushed in.
The sound Minju made — caught between a moan and a question — made his balls tighten. He pushed deeper, her walls stretching around him, and buried himself to the hilt.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You feel — "
She was tight. Hot. Perfect.
He began to move. Slow at first, long strokes that pulled almost all the way out before driving back in. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. Her head lolled to the side.
He grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the bed creaking beneath them, the headboard knocking against the wall. Her pussy gripped him with each stroke, slick and wet and desperate.
"Take it," he grunted. "Take your uncle's cock."
He flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up until she was on her knees, her face buried in the pillow. The pose was obscene — her ass in the air, her pussy spread open, the pink lips glistening in the moonlight.
He pushed into her from behind, and she moaned — a low, helpless sound.
"That's it." He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her clit. "That's my good girl."
He reached around and found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her. She came again — he felt her clench around him, heard her cry into the pillow — and that pushed him over the edge.
He pulled out and turned her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. He stroked his cock twice, three times, and came on her stomach — thick ropes of cum painting her skin white.
He sat there, breathing hard, looking at what he'd done. Minju lay beneath him, still unconscious, cum cooling on her belly.
He cleaned her with a towel from the bathroom. Kissed her forehead. Pulled the blanket up to her chin.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered.
And he went back to the kitchen, where Hyunshik was waiting.
---
Eunbi lay spread across the king-sized bed like she'd been dropped from a height. Her dress was hiked up, her hair wild, one arm flung over her head. She was snoring softly.
Hyunshik watched her from the doorway for a long time.
She was more woman than Minju — fuller, curvier, with breasts that strained against her dress and hips that promised a man could hold on tight. She was thirty years old, and she looked like every fantasy he'd ever had.
He closed the door.
He crossed to the bed and knelt beside her, close enough to smell the wine on her breath. He touched her face — she didn't react. He traced the line of her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist.
"Eunbi," he said quietly. "I'm going to take care of you tonight."
He pulled her dress up and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra — her breasts fell free, huge and heavy, the nipples already tight. He cupped them in his hands, feeling their weight.
"Jesus," he breathed.
He bent and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking deep, drawing as much of her breast as he could between his lips. She was so soft, so warm. He moved to the other, licking, biting, sucking until both nipples were wet and swollen.
Her pussy was shaved bare, smooth and pink, the lips puffy and parted. He spread her legs and stared — at her clit, her entrance, the way her body seemed to open for him.
He licked her. He couldn't help it. He pressed his face into her cunt and licked from bottom to top, tasting her, smelling her. She was already wet — her body preparing itself even without her awareness.
He licked her clit in quick, hard strokes. He pushed his tongue inside her. He sucked her lips into his mouth and released them with a pop.
Her hips began to move — involuntary, instinctive. Her hands fisted in the sheets.
"That's it," he said against her. "Let yourself feel it."
He slid two fingers into her cunt and kept licking her clit, fast and steady, building her up. Her breathing changed — shorter, faster, catching in her throat.
She came with a cry, her back arching, her thighs clamping around his head. He didn't stop. He licked her through it, drinking her cum, lapping at her sensitive clit until she went limp.
Then he stripped.
His cock was long, not as thick as Jungsoo's, but curved slightly upward. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and she was so wet that he slid in to the hilt in one smooth motion.
Eunbi gasped. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open.
"Shh," he said, his forehead against hers. "It's okay. Just relax."
He began to move — slow, deep strokes that made her breasts sway. He watched them, mesmerized, and reached down to squeeze them, to roll her nipples between his fingers.
Her pussy was incredible — tight and hot, gripping his cock with each thrust. He fucked her in a steady rhythm, building speed, driving deeper.
"You like that," he said. "You like your uncle's cock."
He pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, lifting her hips. Her ass was round and perfect, her pussy visible from behind, still wet and open. He pushed back in, and she moaned — long and low.
He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, until she came again — a shuddering orgasm that made her whole body shake.
He kept going.
He reached around to find her clit, rubbing as he fucked her, and she came again almost immediately, crying out, her pussy clenching so hard he could barely move.
That was enough. He pulled out and came on her ass — thick stripes of cum that dripped down between her cheeks.
He cleaned her up, kissing her back, her shoulders, the nape of her neck.
"Sleep well," he whispered. "Tomorrow's going to be interesting."
---
Minju woke with a headache like a spike behind her eyes.
She was in her bed, naked under the blanket, her clothes folded neatly on the chair. She remembered drinking. She remembered laughing with Eunbi. She remembered her father helping her inside.
Everything after that was blank.
She felt strange — sore between her legs, tender in a way that suggested she'd had sex. But that was impossible. She'd passed out alone.
She chalked it up to the wine and stumbled to the kitchen, where Eunbi was already sitting at the table, wearing an oversized t-shirt, holding a glass of water like it was the antidote to poison.
"Morning," Eunbi croaked.
"Morning."
They looked at each other. Something passed between them — a flicker of recognition that neither of them could name.
"Did you sleep okay?" Minju asked.
"Fine. Weird dreams." Eunbi took a sip of water. "You?"
"Same."
Their fathers came in from the terrace, carrying fresh bread and fruit from the market. They were smiling — relaxed, satisfied in a way Minju hadn't seen in years.
"Feel like I died," Eunbi said. "Is there coffee?"
"Coming right up."
Hyunshik caught Minju's eye and held it for a moment too long. She felt a shiver run down her spine — not cold, exactly. Something else.
"You look good today," he said.
She flushed. "I look like a corpse."
"You look beautiful."
Eunbi looked up at that, her gaze sharp. But she said nothing.
---
The plan was simple. More wine, more drinking, more passing out. Only this time, they'd finish what they started — each man with his own daughter.
Eunbi was suspicious. Minju was oblivious. But the wine flowed, and the night grew warm, and by eleven o'clock both girls were unconscious again.
Jungsoo carried Eunbi to her bed — the master bedroom this time, the big bed. She was heavy in his arms, her head lolling, her breath warm against his neck.
He laid her down gently and stood over her.
This was different. This was his daughter.
He'd seen her as a baby, as a toddler, as a gangly teenager with braces and dreams of being a singer. He'd watched her debut, watched her win awards, watched her become a woman men would kill for.
And tonight, she was his.
He undressed her slowly, savoring each inch of skin revealed. Her dress, her bra, her panties. She lay naked beneath him, and he let himself look.
Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples pink and erect. Her waist curved into hips that flared wide. Her pussy was shaved, the lips swollen, a thin line of moisture visible at her entrance.
He undressed and climbed onto the bed.
He started with her breasts — sucking, licking, biting. He pulled her nipples between his teeth and tugged, watching them stretch before releasing them with a pop. Her back arched, and she moaned in her sleep.
"I know you can feel it," he whispered. "Some part of you knows."
He kissed down her stomach, over her navel, to the soft mound of her pussy. He spread her legs wide and pressed his face into her, inhaling her scent — his daughter's scent.
He licked her with long, flat strokes. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue. He pushed his tongue inside her and tasted her, drank from her, devoured her.
She came with a sharp cry, her hips bucking against his face, her cum coating his tongue.
He didn't stop. He kept licking, kept sucking, until she came again, her body shaking, her moans filling the room.
Then he positioned himself between her legs.
His cock was aching, dripping, the head pressed against her entrance. He looked at her face — so peaceful, so unaware — and pushed inside.
Eunbi gasped. Her eyes flew open — unfocused, glassy, confused.
"Dad—?"
"Shh." He stroked her hair, still buried inside her. "It's okay. Just relax."
Her eyes closed again. Her body relaxed. And he began to move.
He fucked her slow, deep, each stroke reaching places no man had touched before. Her pussy gripped him, wet and hot, and he watched his cock disappear into his own daughter's body.
"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so fucking good, Eunbi. So tight. So perfect."
He picked up speed, fucking her harder, the bed creaking beneath them. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. Her mouth fell open, small sounds escaping with each impact.
He pulled out and flipped her over, pulling her onto her hands and knees. Her ass was perfect — round, firm, spread open for him. He could see her pussy from behind, wet and inviting, and the tight pucker of her asshole just above it.
He pushed into her cunt from behind, and she cried out, her face buried in the pillow.
"That's it," he grunted, grabbing her hips. "Take your daddy's cock."
He fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her clit, her ass rippling with each thrust. He reached around and found her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and she came — screaming into the pillow, her whole body convulsing.
He pulled out and pushed a finger into her ass. She whimpered but didn't resist. He worked his finger in and out, coating it in her wetness, then added a second.
"Bet you've never had anything here," he said. "Tonight, you will."
He positioned himself at her asshole, the head of his cock pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He pushed — slowly, steadily — and watched his cock disappear into her ass.
Eunbi screamed. But her body pushed back against him, taking him deeper.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Your ass is so tight."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her body adjust. Her moans were a mix of pain and pleasure, her fingers gripping the sheets. He reached beneath her and rubbed her clit, and her body relaxed, taking him deeper.
He fucked her ass until she came again, her body shuddering, her ass clenching around his cock. Then he pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and pushed back into her pussy.
He fucked her hard and fast, the headboard knocking against the wall. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
"I'm going to come inside you," he said. "I'm going to fill you up."
"Please," she whimpered — not conscious, not awake, but not entirely asleep either.
He drove into her one last time and came, his cum flooding her pussy, filling her, dripping out around his cock. He kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm, painting her insides white.
He pulled out and watched his cum leak from her swollen pussy. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, feeling her body accept it.
Then he lowered his mouth to her cunt and licked her clean — tasting his own cum mixed with hers, eating it, swallowing it.
She was his. Completely his.
---
Minju woke to the feeling of a tongue between her legs.
She was in her bed, her legs spread, someone's face buried in her pussy. She was too drunk to be afraid, too drunk to understand. Her body responded before her mind did — hips lifting, moans escaping, hands fisting in the sheets.
"Good girl," her father's voice said. "Let me taste you."
"Daddy—?"
"Shh. Just feel."
His tongue circled her clit, fast and hard, and she came — a weak, surprised orgasm that made her legs shake. He kept licking, drawing it out, and she came again, her body trembling.
He lifted his head, his chin wet with her. "You're so beautiful," he said. "I've wanted this for so long."
He climbed over her, his cock hard against her thigh. She could feel it — hot, thick, pressing against her.
"This is wrong," she murmured.
"I know." He kissed her. "But I don't care anymore."
He pushed inside her.
Minju cried out — the feeling of being filled, of her father's cock inside her, was too much. He was thick, stretching her, and she felt every inch as he buried himself to the hilt.
"You feel that?" he whispered. "My cock inside my little girl."
"Please—"
"Please what? Please more? Please harder?"
He fucked her slow and deep, his hips grinding against hers. His hands found her breasts, squeezing, pinching her nipples. His mouth found her neck, her collarbone, her lips.
"I've watched you," he said between thrusts. "At every family dinner. At every holiday. I've watched you grow up, and I've wanted you."
She was crying — tears streaming down her cheeks. But her hips were moving with him, her body betraying her. Her pussy was gripping his cock, sucking him deeper, and she hated how good it felt.
He pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up. She heard him spit, heard him slick his cock, and then he pushed into her ass.
"Fuck!" She screamed, her body arching.
"Shh, shh. Take it. Take all of it."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her adjust. His fingers found her clit, rubbing in circles, and pleasure mixed with pain until she couldn't tell them apart. She came — a violent orgasm that left her gasping — and he kept going.
He fucked her ass for a long time, building up to a rhythm that made her cry out with every thrust. Her pussy was dripping, her ass stretched around his cock, and she was coming again and again, each orgasm weaker than the last but no less intense.
"Where do you want it?" he asked. "Pussy or ass?"
"Pussy," she gasped. "Please, daddy, come in my pussy."
He pulled out of her ass and pushed into her cunt in one smooth motion. He fucked her hard, fast, desperate — his breathing ragged, his hands gripping her hips.
"I'm coming," he groaned. "I'm coming inside my daughter."
He drove deep and came, his cum flooding her pussy, hot and thick. She felt it — felt him fill her, felt his cock pulsing inside her — and she came too, her body clamping down on him, milking him dry.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them covered in sweat.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair.
She didn't say it back.
---
He fucked her again an hour later.
This time she was more awake, more aware. She could see his face as he pushed into her, could see the hunger in his eyes. She watched him as he rode her, his expression twisted with pleasure, his mouth open, his breathing ragged.
"Tell me you want it," he said.
"I want it."
"Tell me you want your daddy's cock."
"I want your cock. Please. Fuck me."
He fucked her in missionary, her legs on his shoulders, his cock hitting spots that made her see stars. He fucked her in doggy, her face in the pillow, his hands on her hips. He fucked her on top, her riding him, her breasts bouncing in his face as he sucked them.
And when he came inside her the third time, she came with him, her body finally accepting what her mind couldn't — that she wanted this. That some part of her had always wanted this.
---
The sun rose over the Mediterranean, pink and gold, painting the villa in soft light.
The four of them sat at the breakfast table — the two fathers, the two daughters — eating bread and drinking coffee like it was any other morning.
Minju couldn't meet her father's eyes. Eunbi couldn't stop looking at hers.
"Sleep okay?" Jungsoo asked, the picture of innocence.
"Fine," Eunbi said. Her voice was flat. "You?"
"Best night I've had in years."
Something passed between them — father and daughter, man and woman — and Minju felt it, felt the shift in the air.
"Minju," Hyunshik said. "Walk with me."
She followed him down to the beach, her bare feet sinking into the cold sand. The waves crashed and retreated, crashed and retreated. The water was turquoise under the morning sun, the cliffs rising white and sheer on either side.
"Do you remember anything?" he asked.
"Some things." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Enough."
"Are you angry?"
She thought about it. His hands on her. His mouth. His cock inside her while she floated in that half-conscious haze. The way her body had responded even when her mind was gone. She thought about how she'd woken up aching and empty and somehow hungry for more.
"I should be," she said. "But I'm not."
Hyunshik stopped walking. He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers.
"I've wanted you for a long time," he said. "Since before you were a woman. Since before you knew what wanting meant."
"That's sick."
"Yes." He touched her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But it's true. And you're not running."
She wasn't. She should have been. Every instinct told her to run back to the villa, pack her bags, call a taxi, get as far from this place as possible. But her feet stayed rooted in the sand, and her body leaned into his touch like a flower turning toward the sun.
"I felt you," she whispered. "Last night. I couldn't move, couldn't wake up, but I felt everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Your cock inside me." She swallowed. "And I liked it."
The words hung in the salt air.
"Say it again," he said.
"I liked it, daddy. I liked your cock inside me."
He kissed her then — deep, hungry, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She moaned against him, her hands finding his chest, gripping his shirt. His hand slid down her back, over the curve of her ass, pulling her hips against his.
"There's more," he said against her lips. "Tonight. If you want it."
"What kind of more?"
"Everything."
---
They returned to the villa to find Eunbi and Jungsoo sitting close on the terrace, their shoulders touching, a bottle of wine already open between them. Eunbi's hand rested on her father's thigh, her fingers tracing lazy circles through the fabric of his pants.
"Starting early?" Minju asked.
"Hair of the dog," Eunbi said. But her smile was different now — knowing, hungry. Her eyes traveled over Minju's body in a way they never had before. "You two have a good walk?"
"Informative," Minju said.
She sat down across from them, and Hyunshik settled beside her, his hand finding her knee under the table. The touch sent electricity through her thighs.
Eunbi watched them, then looked at her father. "They know."
"I figured." Jungsoo poured wine for everyone. "Makes things simpler."
"Simpler?" Minju's voice cracked.
"No more pretending." Jungsoo's eyes met hers across the table, dark and steady. "No more wondering what you remember, what you liked, what you want. You're adults. We're adults. And we've all been wanting things we shouldn't want."
"Speak for yourself," Eunbi said. But her hand was sliding higher up her father's thigh.
"You too," Jungsoo said, not looking at her. "I felt you push back against me last night. Heard you moan when I called you a good girl. You wanted it before you were even awake."
Eunbi's cheeks flushed. She didn't deny it.
"So what now?" Minju asked. Her heart was pounding. Her thighs pressed together under the table, the ache between them growing.
"Now," Hyunshik said, his hand squeezing her knee, "we finish what we started. All of us. Together."
---
The afternoon passed in a haze of wine and anticipation. They swam in the sea, the cold water doing nothing to cool the heat building under their skin. Eunbi's white bikini clung to her curves, water beading on her stomach, her breasts, her thighs. Minju wore a black one-piece that cut high on her hips, and she caught both fathers watching her as she walked up the beach.
By sunset, the energy in the villa had shifted. The air itself felt charged, thick with something unspoken.
Dinner was a quiet affair — cold cuts, cheese, bread, more wine. The four of them sat around the table, and the conversation was halting, loaded. Every glance lingered too long. Every accidental touch sparked.
Minju's foot found Eunbi's under the table. Eunbi pressed back.
"I think it's time," Jungsoo said finally, pushing his chair back. "Unless anyone wants to wait."
Nobody spoke.
"Good." He stood and offered his hand to Eunbi. "Coming, princess?"
She took his hand, and he led her inside.
Hyunshik stood and offered his hand to Minju. "Your turn, baby."
She took it.
---
They met in the master bedroom — the big one with the king bed and the doors open to the terrace, the Mediterranean glimmering silver under the rising moon.
The four of them stood in the dim light, looking at each other.
Jungsoo moved first. He crossed to Eunbi and pulled her into a kiss — hard, claiming, his hands cupping her face. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck, and Minju watched her father's hands slide down Eunbi's back, over her ass, gripping hard.
"Daddy," Eunbi breathed against his mouth.
"That's right," he said. "You're my good girl tonight."
Minju felt Hyunshik step behind her, his chest pressing against her back, his hands settling on her hips. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, the spot behind her ear that made her shiver.
"Look at them," he whispered. "Look at what we're going to do to each other."
She watched her father undress Eunbi — the dress falling away, the bra unhooked, the panties sliding down her thighs. Eunbi stood naked before them all, her large breasts heavy and perfect, her nipples already hard, the dark triangle of hair between her legs glistening with moisture.
"Beautiful," Jungsoo said, and bent to take her nipple in his mouth.
Eunbi moaned, her head falling back. Her hands found his head, pressing him against her breast. "Yes," she gasped. "Suck me, daddy."
Minju's clothes came off next — Hyunshik undressing her slowly, reverently, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed. When she was naked, he turned her to face the bed, positioning her so she could see everything.
"Watch," he said. "Watch what happens when fathers take what belongs to them."
Jungsoo had guided Eunbi onto the bed, onto her back, her legs spread wide. He knelt between them, his face already buried in her pussy, his tongue working her clit in long, flat strokes. Her moans filled the room — loud, unashamed, desperate.
"Oh fuck, yes," she cried. "Right there, daddy. Don't stop."
Hyunshik pressed Minju forward until her hands were on the mattress, her face close to Eunbi's. She could see everything — the way Jungsoo's tongue circled Eunbi's clit, the way her pussy lips were swollen and pink, the way her hips bucked against his mouth.
"Taste her," Hyunshik said. "Taste your friend while my friend eats her."
Minju lowered her head. Her tongue touched Eunbi's clit — soft, exploratory. Eunbi gasped, her hand finding Minju's hair.
"Yes," Eunbi moaned. "Lick me, Minju. Lick my pussy while his tongue — oh god — "
Minju licked harder, her tongue circling Eunbi's clit in counterpoint to Jungsoo's rhythm. The taste was sharp and sweet, the scent filling her nostrils. She felt powerful suddenly, watching Eunbi come apart beneath her.
"That's it," Jungsoo said, pulling back. His chin was wet with her. "Make her come with your mouth while I watch."
Minju took Eunbi's clit between her lips and sucked, her tongue flicking across the tip. Eunbi screamed, her body arching off the bed, her cum flooding Minju's mouth.
She swallowed, and the taste of her best friend coated her tongue.
"My turn," Hyunshik said, and pulled Minju onto the bed.
He laid her beside Eunbi, both of them naked, both of them soaked and trembling. He spread Minju's legs and lowered his head between them, his tongue finding her clit immediately. But before she could lose herself in it, she felt Eunbi's hand slide between her thighs, felt Eunbi's fingers parting her folds.
"Let me help," Eunbi said, her voice low and thick. "You ate me. Let me eat you."
And then Eunbi's mouth was on her pussy, tongue pressing into her, and Minju cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets. Her father's tongue and her best friend's tongue working together, her father's fingers and Eunbi's fingers — all of them on her, in her, taking her apart.
"Please," she begged. "Please, I'm going to — "
"Come," her father said against her clit. "Come on our mouths, baby. Let us taste you."
She came with a scream, her body convulsing, her cum spilling onto their tongues. They didn't stop — they licked her through it, drawing out every wave, drinking every drop.
When she could breathe again, she looked up and saw Jungsoo standing over them, his cock in his hand, hard and thick and dripping. He was stroking himself slowly, watching the two girls on the bed.
"Beautiful," he said. "My daughter and her best friend, both spread open and wet. Ready for us."
"Ready," Eunbi echoed. She sat up and crawled toward him, her breasts swinging. "I want your cock, daddy. I want it in my mouth."
She took him into her mouth without waiting, her lips stretching around his thickness. She bobbed her head, taking him deep, her tongue working the underside of his shaft. Jungsoo groaned, his hands in her hair.
"That's it," he said. "Suck your daddy's cock. Get it wet for your pussy."
Hyunshik pulled Minju to the edge of the bed, positioning her so her head was near Eunbi's ass. He guided his cock to her lips. "Open," he said. "I want to fuck that pretty face while your friend sucks mine."
Minju opened her mouth, and he pushed inside. The taste of her own pussy was still on him — he'd licked her clean, and now she tasted herself on his cock. She moaned around him, her tongue swirling, her hands gripping his thighs.
The room filled with the sounds of wet sucking and desperate moans. Eunbi gagging on Jungsoo's cock. Minju slurping on Hyunshik's. The two fathers standing side by side, fucking their daughters' faces, watching each other's daughters take them down their throats.
"Look at them," Hyunshik said, his voice strained. "Perfect little cocksuckers."
"My daughter's got a talented mouth," Jungsoo said, thrusting deeper into Eunbi's throat. "Takes it all the way. Don't you, princess?"
Eunbi moaned in response, her nose pressing against his pubic bone.
"Trade you," Hyunshik said.
Jungsoo pulled out of Eunbi's mouth. She gasped, drool and precum stringing from her lips. Hyunshik pulled out of Minju's. They swapped positions — Jungsoo in front of Minju, Hyunshik in front of Eunbi.
"Open up for your uncle," Jungsoo said, tapping his cock against Minju's lips.
She opened, and he pushed in. His cock was thicker than her father's, stretching her mouth wider. She relaxed her throat and took him deeper, her eyes watering, her hands gripping his hips.
Beside her, Eunbi was moaning around Hyunshik's cock, her eyes closed, her face a picture of pure pleasure.
"We should've done this years ago," Eunbi said when she came up for air. "Traded daddies."
"We're trading more than that tonight," Jungsoo said. He pulled Minju off his cock and pushed her onto her back, spreading her legs. "I want to feel this tight little pussy again. And I want my daughter to watch."
He positioned himself between Minju's legs and pushed inside her in one smooth stroke. She gasped, her back arching, her hands finding his shoulders. He was so thick, so deep, hitting spots that made her see stars.
"Oh fuck," she cried. "Uncle — "
"Call me daddy," he said, thrusting hard. "I'm your daddy tonight."
"Daddy!" she screamed, and he fucked her harder, his hips slapping against hers, the sound of wet flesh filling the room.
Eunbi watched from the side, her hand between her own legs, fingers working her clit as her father fucked her best friend. "Fuck her, daddy," she moaned. "Fuck that tight little cunt."
Hyunshik knelt behind Eunbi, his cock pressing against her ass. "You want it here?" he asked. "Or in your pussy?"
"Both," she said, pushing back against him. "I want everything."
He pushed into her ass, and she cried out, her body shuddering. "Fuck, yes. Stretch me open."
He fucked her ass slowly, letting her adjust, while Jungsoo fucked Minju's pussy in a steady rhythm. The bed creaked beneath them, the sounds of sex echoing off the walls.
"Harder," Minju begged. "Please, daddy, harder."
Jungsoo obliged, driving into her with renewed force. His balls slapped against her ass with each thrust, and she felt her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly.
"I'm going to come," she gasped. "I'm going to come on your cock, daddy."
"Come for me," he said. "Come all over your uncle's cock while my daughter watches."
She came screaming, her pussy clenching around him, her whole body shaking. He kept fucking her through it, riding out her orgasm, and then he pulled out and crawled up to her face, his cock slick with her cum.
"Clean it," he said. "Taste yourself on my cock."
She opened her mouth and took him in, licking her own juices off his shaft, tasting the mix of them on her tongue.
Behind her, Hyunshik was pounding Eunbi's ass in earnest, his hands gripping her hips, his breath ragged. "You like that?" he grunted. "You like your uncle's cock in your ass?"
"Yes!" Eunbi cried. "Fuck my ass, uncle. Fuck it hard."
"Call me daddy."
"Daddy! Fuck my ass, daddy! Make me come!"
His hand found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her ass, and she came — a violent, shuddering orgasm that made her collapse onto the bed. He followed right after, pulling out and coming on her ass, thick ropes of cum painting her skin.
---
They took a break. Water was passed around. They lay tangled on the bed, sweating and breathing hard, the moonlight painting their bodies silver.
Eunbi was the first to recover. She sat up, looking at Minju, then at the fathers.
"I want to ride my daddy's cock," she said. "And I want Minju to watch. And then I want to watch her ride hers."
"Fair enough," Hyunshik said.
Jungsoo lay back on the bed, his cock already hardening again. Eunbi straddled him, positioning herself over his shaft, and lowered herself slowly. They both moaned as she sank onto him, her pussy swallowing him inch by inch.
"Fuck, princess," he groaned. "You feel so good."
"I know." She began to move, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips. Her breasts bounced in his face, and he reached up to suck them, pulling her nipples between his teeth.
Minju watched, mesmerized. Her friend was fucking her father — and it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Eunbi's head thrown back, her mouth open, her hands braced on his chest. Jungsoo's hands on her hips, guiding her rhythm.
"She's so good at that," Hyunshik said, pressing against Minju's back. "Think you can ride me like that?"
"Better," Minju said.
He laughed and pulled her onto her back, spreading her legs. "Show me."
She crawled on top of him, taking his cock in her hand and guiding it to her entrance. She was so wet that he slid in easily, and she gasped as he filled her.
"Oh, daddy," she breathed.
"That's it," he said. "Ride me, baby."
She rode him hard, her hips moving in a desperate rhythm, her breasts swaying. Beside them, Eunbi was riding Jungsoo just as hard, their moans mixing, their bodies glistening with sweat.
"I love watching you fuck your father," Eunbi said, her voice strained with pleasure.
"I love watching you fuck mine," Minju replied.
The two fathers looked at each other over their daughters' heads — and smiled.
"We created beautiful women," Jungsoo said.
"We did," Hyunshik agreed.
"And now they're ours."
"All ours."
Eunbi came first — screaming, her body convulsing on Jungsoo's cock. Minju followed a moment later, her orgasm triggered by the sound of her friend's climax, by the sight of her father's face twisted in pleasure beneath her.
Both fathers came inside their daughters, filling them, claiming them.
And when it was done, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, the four of them tangled together, cum leaking from both girls' pussies onto the sheets.
---
An hour later, Hyunshik woke Minju with his tongue between her legs.
"Again," he said. "I need to taste you again."
He ate her until she came twice, her hips bucking against his face, her cries waking Eunbi, who watched with hooded eyes from across the bed.
When Minju was limp and trembling, Eunbi crawled over and lowered her mouth to Minju's pussy, licking her father's cum from her folds, sharing the taste with her friend.
"Delicious," Eunbi said, her chin wet. "You taste like my daddy and yours."
Minju pulled her up and kissed her — tasting herself, tasting both fathers, tasting everything they'd done together.
Jungsoo woke and found Eunbi's ass pressed against his hip. He positioned himself and pushed into her from behind, still half-asleep, fucking her in a slow, dreamy rhythm while she kept kissing Minju.
"Mmm," Eunbi moaned against Minju's lips. "Daddy's inside me again."
"Good," Minju whispered. "Take it."
Hyunshik moved behind Minju, his cock pressing against her pussy, still slick with his cum. He pushed in, and she gasped, breaking the kiss.
"Both of us," she breathed. "Fucking us at the same time."
The fathers fucked them in tandem, matching rhythms, the bed rocking beneath them. Eunbi and Minju faced each other, their foreheads touching, their hands intertwined.
"We're their whores now," Eunbi whispered.
"I know," Minju said. "And I love it."
"Me too."
They kissed again, tongues tangling, as their fathers fucked them toward another climax.
---
The final round started with Eunbi on her knees, her face in the pillow, her ass in the air. Jungsoo knelt behind her, fucking her pussy from behind, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.
"Look at your daughter," Hyunshik said to Minju. "She's beautiful like this."
Minju watched her friend being fucked, watched the way Eunbi's ass rippled with each impact, watched the way her pussy gripped Jungsoo's cock as he pulled out and pushed back in.
"Your turn," Hyunshik said. He guided Minju to her hands and knees beside Eunbi, so the two girls were side by side, their asses in the air.
Hyunshik knelt behind his daughter and pushed into her pussy. The two fathers fucked their daughters side by side, their strokes synchronized, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room.
"Harder," Eunbi begged. "Fuck me harder, daddy."
"You want it harder?" Jungsoo grunted. He pulled out of her pussy and positioned himself at her ass. "You want it here?"
"Yes! Fuck my ass, daddy!"
He pushed into her ass, and she screamed, her fingers clawing at the sheets. He fucked her ass hard, pounding into her while Hyunshik fucked Minju's pussy beside them.
"I want her mouth," Jungsoo said. "Let's swap them."
They pulled out of the girls' asses and pussies and guided them into a new position — Eunbi on her back at the edge of the bed, Minju on her knees in front of her, facing her father.
"Suck his cock while I fuck your face," Jungsoo said to Minju.
He pushed into Minju's mouth, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Eunbi spread her legs, and Hyunshik knelt between them, pushing into her pussy.
The three of them moved together — Hyunshik fucking Eunbi, Jungsoo fucking Minju's face, Minju sucking desperately, her hands on his thighs.
"I'm going to come down her throat," Jungsoo said.
"Do it," Hyunshik said. "Fill her up."
Jungsoo came with a groan, his cum shooting down Minju's throat. She swallowed, taking every drop, her eyes watering, her throat working.
Hyunshik wasn't far behind. He fucked Eunbi harder, faster, chasing his release.
"Where?" he gasped.
"Inside," Eunbi said. "Come inside me, daddy. Fill your little girl's pussy."
He came with a roar, his cum flooding her, pumping into her depths.
When it was done, they collapsed again, the four of them a pile of sweaty, cum-soaked limbs.
---
The sun rose over the Mediterranean, painting the room in shades of gold and pink.
Minju woke first, tangled between Eunbi and her father. Her body ached in a way that made her smile. She was sore, stretched, filled — and she wanted more.
Eunbi stirred beside her. "Morning," she murmured.
"Morning."
They looked at each other, and Minju saw the same hunger in Eunbi's eyes that she felt in her own.
"Last night," Eunbi said.
"Was incredible."
"I know." Eunbi's hand found hers under the sheet. "I don't feel guilty anymore."
"Neither do I."
Their fathers woke slowly, their hands finding their daughters' bodies, pulling them close.
"Good morning," Jungsoo said, his voice rough with sleep.
"Good morning, daddy," Eunbi said.
Hyunshik kissed Minju's forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Perfect," she said. And she meant it.
They stayed in bed for another hour, touching, kissing, exploring. The fathers took turns eating their daughters out, cleaning the cum from the night before with their tongues. The girls returned the favor, taking their fathers' cocks in their mouths, waking them with pleasure.
When they finally rose for breakfast, they sat on the terrace in the morning sun — the four of them, no longer pretending, no longer hiding.
Minju looked across the table at Eunbi, at Jungsoo, at her own father. She thought about the weekend ahead, about the nights still to come, about everything they'd already done and everything they hadn't tried yet.
"What happens now?" she asked.
Eunbi smiled, her hand finding her father's under the table. "Now we enjoy the rest of our vacation."
"And after?"
"After," Hyunshik said, his hand squeezing Minju's thigh, "we figure out how to make this work. If you want that."
"I do," Minju said. "I want that."
"Me too," Eunbi said.
The two fathers exchanged a look — the same look they'd shared on the first night, but different now. Not hungry. Not desperate. Satisfied.
"Then we'll make it work," Jungsoo said.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the waves, the sun climbing higher over the Mediterranean.
"One more night before we leave," Eunbi said, a smile playing on her lips. "We should make it count."
"Oh, we will," Jungsoo said.
And Minju knew, with absolute certainty, that this was only the beginning.
