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Karina's eyes widened at the sight of an African refugees massive BBC. With a shaky hand she reached out to grab it, feeling the strong pulse throbbing against her palm. Her mouth fell open when she began to stroke, watching it flop in her hands a bit, realizing he wasn't even fully hard.

Karina gasped, drooling as she stroked with both hands. She felt the carpet against her knees, and the touch of his ebony thighs around her torso. She leaned forward, pressing her pursed lips to the head to give it a tender kiss.

Her tongue pressed forward, tasting her first black cock, inhaling the musk that filled her nose. Her right eye twitched and she felt the thoughts within her head melting into a a warm wave of bliss rolling down her spine.

Hawk tuah! Karina spit on that thang and covered it in a layer of glistening sheen that her hands stroked into the dark African meat. Her lips wrapped around the head, eagerly parting to let it slide across her wet tongue and into the back of her throat.

GLUCK! GLUCK! AAH! GLUCK! She started to blow him between loud gasps for air. She could only fit half into her mouth, stroking him desperately with both hands covered in her own spit. The bull groaned, placing both hands on her head to hold her in place, preventing her from lifting off of his BBC.

His hips thrusted upward, jamming his big black cock into the back of her throat with force. Karina let out a muffled scream, but the bull kept going, grunting as he used her throat like a fleshlight for his own pleasure.

Her hands slapped at his thighs and abs, begging him to stop, but only motivated him to keep going. "I'm here to fuck all the women!" he groaned, pushing Karina down on his cock until she was gagging violently, her eyes rolling back until they were nearly solid white.

He gave her cheek a slap, then released her and watched Karina gasp for air, her chest heaving as she sat back against the coffee table behind her. Her throat stung as she panted, wiping the spit from her chin that had soaked into her black REFUGEES WELCOME shirt with a black fist in the middle of the Korean flag.

The bull stood up and grabbed her hair in his hand, motioning for her to follow him. "No!" he said when she tried to stand up, "I'll walk you like the slut you are."

Karina crawled on all fours beside him, following with her heavy tits sagging down against the fabric of her shirt. Her pale, naked ass in the air swayed side-to-side as he led her across the room, passing by other bulls who were hammering black cock into screaming Korean women.

The sliding door of the patio opened and Karina felt the hard concrete against her palms and knees as he led her to a beach chair and pointed for her to get on it. Karina climbed up and felt his hands on her waist, flipping her onto her back.

"Let me have those big ass titties," he said, pushing the shirt up to reveal her braless, pale, fat tits. He slapped his wet BBC between them and Karina moaned deeply, feeling the power and heft of his black cock as it thumped against her soft skin.

"Mmm, fuck my big Korean tits!" Karina blurted out, lifting her hands to the sides of her chest to press them together around the ebony pole between them.

Karina watched a pair of hands coil around the bulls sides, and then the face of Giselle smiling down at her. "That's it, fuck those big tits," Giselle said to him in a soft, encouraging voice. "They're what you came here for, aren't they? Big asian tits and tight little Korean pussies to breed."

The bull groaned, his hips thrusting back and forth between Karina's fleshy melons engulfing his dark cock. She felt the head poking at her neck with every thrust, peeking out from under the top of her shirt and occasionally trying to slip under her choker necklace.

Karina's head spun with lust, her toes curling the moment that Giselle lowered her face to her pussy to start licking it. Karina let out a long, low moan of satisfaction, closing her eyes and arching her back.

Giselle shoved a couple fingers in without warning, working them back and forth inside Karina, her thumb working circles on her sensitive clit to drive her mad. Karina breathed deeply in sharp breaths, her thighs beginning to shake, chest turning red.

The bull reached down with both hands and wrapped them around her neck, his thumbs pressing the head of his black cock against her throat as he fucked her busty chest. Karina's eyes rolled, but the grip on her squishy boobs never relaxed, and she kept them pressed hard around the BBC pumping between them.

Karina let out a moan, kicking her foot as Giselle shoved her tongue into her cunt, drilling into it with her fingers and nuzzling her nose right up against the clit. It was too much for Karina, her head was swimming, and she felt like she would pass out from the pleasure.

The bull pressed down harder and Karina felt his weight on her throat, choking her until her cheeks turned a rosy red hue. She wanted to grab at his wrists, but she kept her hands around her tits, refusing to let go until he told her to.

The bull groaned as his BBC slipped under the choker, pinning his head in place as he began to spurt a series of hot ropes across Karina's chin and neck. She felt the pulsing his shaft, the flowing hot ropes of cum shooting up her chin before running down her neck and into her dark hair.

He gave her a few more pumps, then pulled his BBC back and slapped it wetly against each breast before leaving her and Giselle. "I'm gonna..." Karina panted, pinching her nipples and twisting them, pulling her sagging breasts upward with a scream.

Karina began to squirt all over Giselle's face, coating her lips and tongue, and Giselle ate it up hungrily while continuing to lick and finger until Karina fell limp with rolling eyes.

Giselle crawled up Karina's body, hovering over her with cum dripping from her lips and chin, glistening brightly. She lowered her head to lick the cum from Karina's neck, lapping it up and ending with a soft bite into her flesh.

She dragged her tongue along Karina's throat, up her chin, and then to her lips, sliding into her mouth to deposit the bull's load. Karina's eyes rolled in circles, she moaned deeply, a hand reaching up to pull Giselle in deeper.

They swapped the load back and forth with sloppy open-mouthed kisses, their tongues twisting together, pushing against each other, lips meeting until the cum had all been swallowed.

Giselle pulled back and caressed Karina's cheek, looking deep into her eyes. They kissed one last time, and Giselle grabbed a handful of Karina's left tit to squeeze as she did so.

The night was still young and the black breeding party had just started, there were more men inside waiting for their welcome to Korea, and the two of them were more than happy to give it to them.

"Not at all," he replied, his voice keeping that tranquil, composed cadence, so at odds with the heat radiating between us. "You look beautiful, as always. But if you go out looking like that, you’ll have to fight them off with a stick."

A warm, pleasant hum buzzed in my chest at the compliment. I loved how he looked at me—not just as a mother, but as a woman he desired. It was a dangerous, addictive thrill. I turned away from the mirror and sauntered towards him, my heels clicking rhythmically on the wooden floor. The air in the room felt thick, charged with that familiar, electric tension that always seemed to spark when we were alone.

"They can look all they want," I murmured, stopping just inches from him. I reached out, flattening my palm against his chest, feeling the steady, rhythmic thumping of his heart. "But they can't touch. Only you get to touch, don't you, sweetheart?"

He closed the gap between us; his arms circled my waist, pulling me against him. His face was so close to mine. I felt his breath on my neck, and it made me shiver. He kissed my neck; his lips were soft and gentle. I moaned softly and arched my back, pressing my body closer to his. I ran my fingers through his brown hair, pulling him closer to me. His hands moved down to my bum, squeezing firmly. I loved how confident he was becoming, how he took what he wanted from me.

"Only me," he whispered against my skin, his voice vibrating through me.

I couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up, mixed with a desperate gasp as his teeth grazed my collarbone. It was absurd, really. I was supposed to be heading out to Roppongi to dance and drink, to lose myself in the thumping bass and coloured lights, yet here I was, melting in the arms of a fifteen-year-old boy who was rapidly becoming the only thing that could satisfy the insatiable hunger inside me.

"Are there any chances for you to remain here or for me to come with you as your knight?" He asked, his voice muffled slightly against my skin, the vibrations of his words sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in my abdomen.

I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, my hands resting on his shoulders. "My knight? Are you planning to fight off all the bad men with a sword, then?" I teased, though the idea was tempting. The thought of having him by my side, his possessive eyes on me all night while I danced, made my thighs clench together. "If you promise not to make a scene if someone tries to flirt with me... I want you to be there with me to have fun, not to be my guardian."

My sweet boy nodded. I instructed him on what to wear, forcing him to put on something a bit more sophisticated than his usual school attire. It felt delightfully sinful, dressing him up like my own personal doll, preparing him for a night where the lines between mother and lover would be blurred amidst the neon lights of Tokyo.

The taxi ride into Roppongi was a blur of passing streetlights and the electric anticipation humming beneath my skin. My hand rested on his thigh the entire way, my fingers tracing teasing circles higher and higher, relishing the way his breathing hitched. He stayed calm, outwardly tranquil, but I could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the predator waiting to be unleashed.

When we finally stepped out of the cab, the city assaulted our senses in a dizzying wave of sound and colour. The bass from the nearby clubs was a physical thump in my chest, vibrating through the soles of my high heels. I took his arm, pressing my body against his, revelling in the possessive glances he shot at anyone who dared to look my way. We walked past the queues, the bouncer recognising me and ushering us inside with a knowing grin.

The club was a sensory overload, a swirling vortex of neon lasers, pounding bass, and the sweet, musky scent of expensive perfume and desire. I held onto his arm tightly as we navigated the throng of bodies, feeling like the queen of the night with her handsome young prince. The heat was palpable, but nothing compared to the fire burning in my blood as I felt his protective presence beside me.

We made our way towards the VIP section, a raised platform swathed in velvet ropes and bathed in purple light. There, waving enthusiastically amidst the bottles of champagne and ice buckets, were my girls. Mina, with her feline eyes and mischievous smirk; Nayeon, glowing with that bunny-like charm; and Tzuyu, tall and elegant, looking like a runway model who had wandered in for a drink.

"Sana! Over here!" Nayeon shrieked over the music, her eyes widening as she took in my entourage. I dragged him over to the plush, crescent-shaped booth, watching their faces drop in varying degrees of shock and appreciation as they got a good look at him. He stood there, calm and composed, looking utterly delectable in the dark button-down I’d picked out for him. It was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of the smooth skin beneath, the shirt tucked neatly into his trousers.

The booth, however, presented a minor logistical dilemma. It was designed for four, perhaps five people at a squeeze, but there were four of us, and the table was cluttered with buckets of Moët and assorted cocktails.

"Oh, bother", I pouted playfully, looking around the tight space. "It seems we're a seat short, aren't we?"

Tzuyu, ever the graceful one, started to shift towards the edge to make room, but I was already moving. I wasn't about to let my knight sit on the hard cushion outside the circle, nor did I want him pressed up against Nayeon, no matter how much I adored her.

With a mischievous glint in my eye, I turned to my son, patting my thigh invitingly. "I suppose you’ll just have to be my chair for the night, sweetheart. Unless you object to having the best view in the house?"

He didn’t miss a beat. He settled onto the plush leather seat, his legs spread slightly in that inherently masculine way, and looked up at me with a raised brow. "I think I can manage that," he murmured, his voice steady, though I caught the subtle darkening of his pupils.

I didn't hesitate. I gathered the hem of my short dress and turned, sinking onto his lap. The sensation was immediate and electric. I felt the firm muscles of his thighs beneath my bottom, and as I wiggled to get comfortable, I couldn't ignore the distinct, hardening length pressing against my backside. A flush of heat shot through me, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. Being this full and heavy against him, in public, of all places, was a wicked thrill.

His arms instinctively wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest, grounding me amidst the dizzying atmosphere of the club. I settled back against him, revelling in the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. It was a possessive hold, one that silently claimed ownership, and I felt a heady rush of adrenaline knowing that my friends were watching every second of it.

"Well, hello there," Mina purred, leaning her elbows on the table to get a better look. Her dark, feline eyes roamed over his face with undisguised interest, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Sana, you really didn't do this handsome young man justice in your stories. He’s absolutely gorgeous."

I felt a sharp pang of jealousy in my chest, primal and fierce, but I suppressed it with a bright, bubbly laugh. I leant back, resting my head on his shoulder, and tilted my chin up to look at him. "Isn't he, though? I told you he was special. But try to control yourselves, ladies. He’s a bit shy."

"He doesn't look very shy to me," Tzuyu countered, her voice cool and sultry as she took a slow sip from her flute of champagne. Her gaze was heavy, lingering a little too long on the way his hands rested possessively on my hips, his thumb tracing idle circles against the bone. "In fact, he looks like he knows exactly what he's doing. Those eyes... they aren't innocent at all."

I felt him stiffen slightly behind me—not in fear, but in recognition. It was the hunter acknowledging he was being watched. He didn't flinch under Tzuyu's scrutiny; instead, he met her gaze evenly, that tranquil mask firmly in place, though I could feel the rapid thrum of his heart beating against my spine.

"He’s just composed," I corrected them, waving a hand dismissively, though my pulse quickened at their praise. I reached for the bucket, grabbing a bottle of Moët. "Don't scare him off, you lot. He’s used to quiet nights at home, not..." I gestured vaguely at the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor below, "this chaotic madness."

"He is far too composed for a boy his age," Nayeon chimed in, her bunny-like teeth flashing as she grinned. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his arm—a touch that lingered a second too long for my liking. "Usually, boys are tripping over their own tongues around us. You seem... unbothered, young man."

I felt the muscles in his jaw tighten against my shoulder, a subtle shift that only I would notice. He didn't pull away, but his hand on my hip gave a firm, reassuring squeeze, silently reminding me—and perhaps her—that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

"I prefer to observe," he replied smoothly, his voice cutting through the thumping bass with an ease that surprised me. He lifted his glass of champagne, his blue eyes locking with Nayeon's over the rim. "And right now, the view is quite extraordinary."

Nayeon’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink at his smooth retort, and she let out a surprised, delighted laugh, pulling her hand back as if she’d been burned. "Oh, he’s got a tongue on him, too! Sana, where on earth did you find this one? You’ve been hiding a diamond in the rough."

"I told you he was full of surprises," I preened, swirling the golden liquid in my glass. The possessive pride swelling in my chest was intoxicating. Seeing my friends—women who were used to men fawning over them—rendered slightly flustered by my son’s quiet confidence was a massive ego boost. I shifted my weight on his lap, grinding down slightly, and felt his breath hitch imperceptibly against my ear. I knew exactly what I was doing to him. The friction, the heat, the public nature of our seating arrangement—it was all calculated to drive him mad, and I could feel the rigid proof of it beneath my thigh.

"I like him," Mina decided, her dark eyes narrowing speculatively. She poured a fresh glass of champagne and slid it across the table towards him. "He’s got a presence. It’s... intense. You don’t see that in boys his age. Usually, it’s all pent-up aggression and awkwardness. He’s calm. Controlled."

I watched him take the glass with that same steady hand, offering Mina a nod of gratitude that was polite yet kept a distinct air of detachment. "Thank you", he said, his voice low and smooth, managing to make a simple pleasantry sound like a command. "It is... interesting to meet the women Sana speaks of so often."

"Speaks of us?" Tzuyu arched a perfectly sculpted brow, setting her glass down with a deliberate clink. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze locking onto his with predatory curiosity. "I wonder what exactly she says. Do tell!"

He took a slow sip of the champagne, his eyes never leaving Tzuyu’s. "Only that you are beautiful, lively, and... intense", he replied, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. The playfulness in his tone was so subtle; if I didn't know him so well—if I didn't feel the way his fingers were gripping my hip possessively—I might have missed it.

"Intense?" Tzuyu repeated the word rolling off her tongue like dark chocolate. She seemed to taste the subtext there, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment. Though I have a feeling you're the one who enjoys a bit of intensity, aren't you?"

I felt the vibration of his low chuckle against my back before I heard it. It was a rich, surprisingly deep sound for a boy of fifteen, and it sent a shiver of delight straight down my spine. "I suppose you could say I appreciate focus," he answered smoothly, his hand idly stroking the silk of my dress just above my hip.

"Oh, I bet you do," Mina chimed in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that she didn't bother to hide. She leaned in closer, invading our personal space just enough to be daring. "So, tell us, handsome. Does Sana boss you around at home, or are you the one in charge there? You seem very... obedient."

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, I felt the hand resting on my hip glide slowly downwards, his fingers splaying wide over the curve of my thigh, pulling me tighter against him until there was absolutely no space left between us. The movement was subtle, hidden beneath the table and the shadows of the VIP booth, but the message was clear. He was staking his claim, right in front of them.

"I think you’ll find," he said, his voice dropping an octave, silencing Mina’s playful teasing instantly, "that we have a very equal partnership. Isn't that right, Sana?"

I looked down at him, my breath catching in my throat at the dark, predatory look in his blue eyes. He wasn't the shy, tranquil boy I had dressed up an hour ago; he was something else entirely now—something dangerous and thrillingly possessive.

"Equal?" Mina repeated, her feline eyes narrowing as she picked up on the shift in the air. She tapped a manicured nail against her glass, a knowing smirk curling her lips. "Is that what we're calling it? It looked an awful lot like you were taking orders back at the door, sweetheart."

"He lets me think I'm in charge," I interjected quickly, my voice sounding breathless even to my own ears. I took a hasty sip of my champagne to hide the flush rising in my cheeks, the bubbles doing little to quell the heat pooling in my stomach. I shifted on his lap again, trying to find a position that didn't press his hardened length so directly against my bottom, but it was a futile effort. He was rock hard, and he wanted me to know it.

"He's very good at that," Tzuyu observed, her gaze still fixed on him with an intensity that usually made lesser men wither. She swirled her drink, the ice clinking softly. "Listening, observing. But smart boys know when to stay quiet and when to... speak up."

Nayeon let out a loud, unladylike snort, breaking the heavy tension that had settled over the table. She reached for the bottle of vodka, topping up her glass with a generous pour. "Oh, don't mind Tzuyu," she said, waving a dismissive hand in our direction. "She’s just salty because she hasn't found a man who can keep up with her yet. You're doing alright, kid. As long as you can keep Sana smiling, you're good in my books."

"I second that", Mina purred, her gaze softening as she took a long sip of her drink, though her eyes continued to flicker between us, clearly enjoying the show. "There is something very... alluring about a young man who knows his place. Or yours," she added with a wicked grin.

I felt the tension in his jaw ease slightly against my shoulder, the predator receding just enough to let the tranquil mask slip back into place. He was incredibly adaptable, shifting seamlessly from the dominant lover to the polite, composed son whenever the situation required. It made my head spin.

"Would you girls mind a question?" He  asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the thumping bass and the steady hum of conversation.

"Anything for you, handsome," Nayeon replied instantly, leaning forward with a playful glint in her eyes, clearly enjoying the attention.

He didn't look at her, though. His gaze remained fixed on the dance floor below, watching the writhing mass of bodies with a detached, analytical interest, even as his hand continued to stroke my hip, his thumb rubbing slow, maddening circles against my skin. "Sana mentions she often comes here to... let loose. Does she attract a lot of attention when she's alone?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication, before the girls erupted into a chorus of laughter. It was a bright, musical sound, but underneath it, I could sense the shift in atmosphere as they exchanged knowing glances.

"Attract attention?" Mina repeated, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "Sweetheart, Sana doesn't just attract attention; she absorbs it. When she walks onto that floor, she becomes the centre of gravity."

"It's true", Nayeon added, leaning back and draping her arm over the booth behind her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You have to beat them off with a stick. Men, women... they all want a piece of her. She’s a firecracker, that one. Always has been."

Tzuyu hummed in agreement, her gaze drifting from the chaotic dance floor back to us, her eyes lingering on the possessive grip he had on my waist. "She's right. Sana feeds off the energy. She loves being looked at, being wanted. But she rarely goes home with anyone. Usually, she just likes to tease and leave them wanting." Tzuyu’s eyes locked onto his, a challenge glittering in their depths. "She seems to have found a solution to that problem lately, hasn't she?"

I felt the muscles beneath me bunch and tighten, a subtle reminder of the power contained in that youthful, lean frame. He didn't rise to the bait, though. Instead, he took another slow sip of his champagne, his eyes never leaving Tzuyu’s.

"It's up to her to say it," he replied with a calm voice. "I can only grant you; she knows she can rely on me."

The table went quiet at that, the bass-heavy thrum of the club seeming to swell in the sudden silence. Tzuyu held his gaze for a long, lingering moment, her analytical expression cracking just enough to reveal a flash of genuine surprise. Then, a slow, appreciative smile spread across her face.

"Smart and dangerous", Tzuyu murmured, lifting her glass in a silent toast. "I like that. You’re not just a pretty face, are you?"

"I told you", I beamed, wiggling my hips again, unable to resist the urge to torment him just a little more. I felt the heavy ridge of his erection twitch beneath me, a silent response to my movement. "He’s perfect."

His hands moved down to my thighs; his touch was light like a feather. "Objectively", he stated. "You are all gorgeous women, and I cannot fathom why there is no one at your side."

Mina let out a soft, incredulous laugh, the sound like silk rubbing together. She tipped her head back, exposing the slender line of her throat as she looked up at the ceiling lights. "Oh, darling," she sighed, bringing her gaze back down to him with a heavy, hooded look. "It’s because we eat men like you for breakfast and spit them out before lunch. Finding someone who can handle us is... a full-time occupation."

"Especially when you have high standards," Nayeon added, though her eyes softened as she looked at him. She swirled the vodka in her glass, the ice clinking rhythmically. "Most boys are either terrified of us or trying to get into our knickers within five minutes. You don't seem to be doing either. It’s... refreshing."

"I have everything I need right here," he said simply, his voice vibrating through my back where I leaned against him. The hand on my thigh gave a gentle squeeze, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just above the lace of my stockings. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that was making it increasingly difficult to maintain the bubbly, carefree façade I usually wore around them.

"I'm sure you do," Mina purred, her gaze lingering on his hand where it disappeared under the hem of her dress. The dark, knowing look in her eyes suggested she suspected exactly what those fingers were up to beneath the table. "But surely you don't intend to keep Sana all to yourself every night? That’s rather greedy, isn't it?"

"He’s young, Mina," Nayeon teased, though there was a slight edge to her voice. She leaned closer, invading his space again, her perfume—a sweet, intoxicating mix of jasmine and vanilla—clouding my senses. "He’s in the prime of his youth. He should be out having fun, making mistakes, breaking hearts. Not playing the devoted husband."

I felt a ripple of unease pass through him, a subtle stiffening of his spine against my back. The tranquil mask slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing a flash of that protective, territorial instinct I admired so much. He didn't like the implication that he was missing out, or worse, that I was holding him back.

"He isn't missing out on anything," I said quickly, perhaps a bit too sharply, keen to defend my darling boy before his tranquil veneer could crack completely. I reached up, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, a soothing gesture meant to calm us both. "He’s exactly where he wants to be. Besides, who says he can't have fun with me? We have plenty of fun."

"Fun," Mina repeated, drawing the word out until it sounded positively filthy. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his face. "I'm sure you do. But variety is the spice of life, isn't it, handsome? Surely your mother has told you about our... little traditions?"

The air in the booth seemed to thicken, charged with a sudden, heavy tension. I knew exactly what Mina was hinting at. Our nights out often ended in a blur of tangled limbs and shared partners, a hedonistic free-for-all that we had indulged in for years. But this was different. This was him. The very idea of sharing him, of watching Mina or Nayeon run their hands over the body that was currently pressed so intimately against mine, sparked a violent rush of jealousy that I wasn't entirely prepared for.

"Mina, calm down," Tzuyu interjected smoothly, though her eyes danced with wicked amusement as she watched the interplay. "You're going to scare the poor thing."

"Don't talk like you are not interested, Tzuyu," Mina retorted. "I saw you ogling him."

Tzuyu didn't deny it. Instead, she swirled the champagne in her glass, her eyes fixed on me with a predatory glint that made my skin prickle. "I'm just appreciating the view, darling. There's no harm in looking. Though I must admit," she paused, her gaze dropping to my lips, "I am curious to see if he tastes as good as he looks."

My son stiffened beneath me, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on my thigh. It wasn't fear; it was a territorial warning. "Hold your knickers, ladies," I told them. "Before even considering doing anything to him, you have to ask me. He is my son, and although I've never been greedy, I'm not exactly ready to share him. Especially when I know how good he is."

I felt his chest expand against my back as he took a deep breath, his tranquil mask slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of dark amusement. He didn't seem offended by their hunger; if anything, he appeared to view it as a scientific curiosity, like a specimen under a microscope that had just learnt it could bite back.

"Wouldn't be helpful to blow a bit of steam to dance?" He  asked, his voice a smooth counterpoint to the rising tension at the table.

Tzuyu let out a low, appreciative hum, setting her glass down with a decisive click. "He’s got a point," she declared, standing up in one fluid, graceful motion. The hem of her slip dress rode up just enough to show miles of leg, but her eyes were fixed squarely on us. "Sitting here is all well and good, but the music is calling. I’d love to see how our young knight moves."

"I second that," Nayeon chimed, already wiggling out of the booth. She grabbed my hand, her grip firm and insistent. "Come on, Sana! Bring your boy and let's go show this floor how it's done."

I allowed Nayeon to pull me up, the sudden loss of contact making me feel oddly cold despite the stifling heat of the club. My son rose smoothly behind me, adjusting his cuffs with that infuriatingly calm demeanour, though his eyes burnt with a dark, possessive light as he glanced at the other women.

I saw him offering his hand to Mina and Tzuyu with that old-school, gentlemanly charm that seemed so incongruous with his youth, yet fit him perfectly. Mina accepted immediately, her eyes glinting with mischief, while Tzuyu simply smirked, placing her elegant fingers in her palm with an air of regal acceptance. Nayeon, ever the bundle of energy, was already dragging me towards the pulsing heart of the dance floor, weaving through the crowd with practised ease.

The transition from the plush, purple-hued sanctuary of the VIP booth to the main floor was jarring. Here, the air was thick with humidity and the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. The bass was no longer just a sound; it was a physical force, vibrating in my lungs and rattling my teeth. Strobe lights slashed through the darkness, illuminating the writhing mass of bodies in fragmented snapshots of ecstasy.

We found a small pocket of space amidst the chaos, and I immediately turned to him. The girls formed a loose circle around us, a protective yet predatory formation that isolated us from the rest of the club. Nayeon was the first to start moving, her body fluid and rhythmic, her arms raised high as she lost herself in the beat. Mina and Tzuyu followed suit, their movements more sultry, more calculated, designed to draw the eye.

"Well then, my knight," I shouted over the deafening roar of the bass, stepping into his personal space. "Show us what you've got. Don't leave me hanging!"

I didn't wait for a verbal response. I couldn't. The music was a frantic, electro-house beat that demanded movement, a primal rhythm that vibrated in my very marrow. I turned around, pressing my back against his chest, and began to move. I let my body take over, rolling my hips in slow, deliberate circles that I knew would drive him insane. My hands came up, tangling in my hair, arching my back to press my bottom firmly against the front of his trousers.

His response was immediate and electrifying. His hands, of course, settled firmly on my hips, gripping me with a confidence that made my knees weak. He didn't just stand there; he moved with me, matching the roll of my hips with a fluidity that contradicted his usual tranquil stillness. It was a dominant rhythm, a silent assertion that he was the one leading this dance, even if I was the one setting the pace.

I could feel every inch of him against my backside, hard and insistent, separated only by the thin layers of our clothes. The friction was maddening, a delicious tease that promised so much more. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, letting out a breathless laugh that was swallowed by the pounding music. I felt invincible, grinding against the most handsome man in the room, who just happened to be my son.

"Looks like our knight can move," Mina purred, appearing in front of us. She didn't stay at a distance; she closed the gap, moving with a feline grace that brought her body flush against mine. She placed her hands on my waist, her fingers brushing tantalisingly close to where his hands held me.

Mina’s presence was like a sudden wave of heat, her dark eyes locking onto mine with a mischievous glint as she pressed closer. The three of us were fused together in a rhythm that felt illicit and dangerously thrilling. My son didn't falter; if anything, his grip on my hips tightened, anchoring me against him while Mina invaded our space from the front. I was sandwiched between the two of them, caught in a crossfire of desire and tension that made my head spin.

"Having fun, knight?" Mina mouthed, her lips brushing against my ear, though her gaze was fixed pointedly over my shoulder at him. Her hands slid down to my waist, teasingly close to mine, her fingers tracing the sequins of my dress.

"He seems to be enjoying himself," I managed to gasp back, feeling the hard evidence of his enjoyment digging into my lower back. He was rolling his hips in time with the bass, a slow, dirty grind that mimicked exactly how he moved when we were alone in my bed.

"Careful, Mina," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, managing to cut through the relentless thud of the bass. His lips grazed the sensitive shell of my ear, sending a violent shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the music. "You're playing a dangerous game getting this close."

Mina didn't so much as flinch. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed, a dark, sultry sound that seemed to resonate in her chest. She pressed even closer, her body flush against mine, trapping me between her softness and his overwhelming hardness. "I like danger," she mouthed back, her eyes flicking down to his hands on my hips before meeting his gaze again. "And I think you do too."

Before the tension could snap something vital inside me, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from the side, pulling me slightly away from the centre of our heated triangle. It was Nayeon, vibrating with an infectious, bubbly energy that cut through the heavy fog of lust.

"Come on, you two! Don't hog all the fun!" Nayeon shouted, her voice a bright bell against the deep thrum of the bass. She tugged me away with surprising strength, breaking the seal between my back and his chest. I stumbled slightly, the sudden loss of his warmth leaving me feeling bereft and dizzy, but Nayeon just laughed, spinning me around until I was facing her. "Let's show these kids how it's done, Sana!"

I threw my head back and laughed, the sound bubbling up from my chest, instantly swept up in her chaotic energy. We danced together, moving in sync like we had done a hundred times before, our bodies mirroring each other, hands roaming freely over each other's arms and waists. It was familiar and safe, a grounded anchor amidst the storm of illicit desire swirling in my head.

But I couldn't keep my eyes off him.

He stood there for a moment, a solitary pillar of calm amidst the chaotic sea of writhing bodies, his blue eyes tracking my every movement with an intensity that made my skin flush. He looked dangerous, a predator waiting patiently for his prey to return to the fold. But he wasn't alone for long.

Tzuyu, graceful and silent as a panther, slid into the space I had vacated. She didn't bounce or shimmy like Nayeon; she flowed, moving with a hypnotic, liquid grace that drew the eye instantly. She stopped right in front of him, close enough that I could see the challenging arch of her brow even from a few feet away.

I watched, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs that had nothing to do with the music, as she began to dance around him. It was a calculated seduction, a slow orbit designed to test his composure. She turned, pressing her back to his chest, mimicking the position I had just occupied, and rolled her hips in a slow, agonising grind.

A sharp, visceral pang of jealousy pierced through the haze of alcohol and bass, sharp enough to make me falter in my steps. Seeing another woman—any woman, let alone Tzuyu with her model-good looks and effortless grace—press her body against his felt like a violation. He was mine. The possessive instinct that roared to life inside me was terrifyingly primal, far beyond the protective maternal urges I was used to.

I was about to pull away from Nayeon, ready to march over there and stake my claim with my claws bared, when I saw how he reacted.

He matched her movement without crossing the line, a fluid, synchronised grind that was technically perfect yet emotionally detached. His hands rested lightly on Tzuyu’s hips, not with the hungry, proprietorial grip he used on me, but with the polite, distant restraint of a dance partner executing a choreography. He looked over her shoulder, his gaze instantly finding mine amidst the flashing lasers and swirling crowd. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk, a silent reassurance that shouted, 'I'm right here, Mum.' I’m only playing the game.

It was the look in his eyes that undid me—the calm, unwavering blue anchor that held me steady whilst the club threatened to spin out of control. He knew I was watching. He knew exactly what he was doing, stoking the fires of my jealousy just to prove a point: he could handle them, but he belonged to me.

"Earth to Sana!" Nayeon’s voice cut through my trance, accompanied by a playful shove to my shoulder. "You're staring like a lovesick puppy! If you keep looking at them like that, you might burn a hole in Tzuyu’s back."

I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the sight of Tzuyu grinding against my son, and forced a laugh that sounded slightly strangled even to my own ears. "Can you blame me?" I shot back at Nayeon, trying to regain my bubbly composure. "I have the hottest date on the floor. It’s only natural I want to keep my eyes on the prize."

Nayeon cackled, throwing her head back, her blonde hair whipping around her face. "Possessive, much? I like it. It’s fierce." She grabbed my hand, spinning me around again, but my body was resisting the momentum, yearning to be back where the heat was radiating from.

"I'm just saying, he’s quite the catch." Nayeon leaned in close, shouting over the beat. "Even if he is a bit... young for the usual crowd. He handles himself well."

The track transitioned from a frantic electro-house beat into something deeper, a sensual R&B remix that thrummed through the floorboards like a slow, steady heartbeat. The change in tempo was my cue. I peeled myself away from Nayeon, ignoring her playful pout of protest, and cut a path through the dancing crowd with single-minded determination.

I didn't walk; I stalked.

Tzuyu was still grinding against him, her movements fluid and hypnotic, but as I approached, she sensed the shift in the air. She turned her head, a knowing smirk plastered on her face, and stepped aside with the graciousness of a queen relinquishing her throne—though her eyes lingered on him with a hunger that made my blood boil.

I didn't hesitate. I stepped straight into the space she’d vacated, claiming my territory with a possessive determination that surprised even me. Pressing my back against his chest, I felt the immediate, hard contact of his body, solid and reassuring. The contrast between Tzuyu’s distant grace and the heated reality of him was stark.

"Missed me?" I purred, tilting my head back to look up at him, letting my body roll sensually to the slower, sultry rhythm of the new track.

His hands instantly found my hips, his fingers digging in with that familiar, hungry grip that had been absent when he danced with Tzuyu. "Immensely", he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "She dances well, but she doesn't feel like you."

I let out a breathless sigh, letting his words wash over me, soothing the jagged edges of my jealousy. "She certainly doesn't," I agreed, grinding my hips back against him with a deliberate, slow roll that left him in no doubt about who he belonged to. "And don't you forget it, knight."

He didn't reply with words, but the sharp intake of breath I heard against my neck and the way his hands flexed on my waist were answer enough. We moved together in the dim light, isolated in our own little bubble of lascivious intent while the club throbbed around us. The music was slower now, a heavy, sensual beat that allowed for bodies to press closer, for movements to become more suggestive, more intimate.

I was lost in the sensation of him—the hard planes of his chest against my spine, the thick ridge of his erection nestled against my bottom, and the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of our shared arousal. It was intoxicating, a heady cocktail that made me feel bold and invincible.

After a bunch of songs more, we all retreated to the booth, breathless and glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. The alcohol had flowed freely, and the girls were positively buzzing, a chaotic tangle of limbs and laughter as we collapsed onto the plush leather. My son sat down first, looking remarkably unruffled save for the darkened intensity in his eyes, and I immediately reclaimed my place on his lap, draping my arm around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"So", Nayeon drawled, fanning herself with a cocktail napkin, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. "Are we doing this, or what? My place is empty, and I just bought a new bottle of gin that is screaming to be opened."

I stiffened slightly, the implication hanging heavy in the air. We often ended our nights at one of our apartments, continuing the party in more intimate surroundings. But tonight, I wasn't just with the girls. I felt the muscles beneath me tense in agreement; he had no intention of becoming a plaything for the group, no matter how much they seemed to covet him.

"I won't let you play with him," I replied. "But I am going to be merciful; you can watch."

The silence that descended over the booth was absolute. For a moment, even the relentless thumping of the bass seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the sheer weight of my declaration. The three of them stared at me, their expressions a frozen tableau of shock, quickly followed by a dawning, wicked comprehension.

"Watch?" Tzuyu repeated, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. She slowly placed her glass on the table, the movement deliberate and predatory. She leaned forward, her dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of intrigue and lascivious hunger. "Do you mean...?"

"Exactly what I said," I confirmed, feeling the thrill of the forbidden course through my veins like liquid fire. I shifted slightly on his lap, relishing the way his hardness pulsed against me, a silent testament to his arousal at the prospect. "You want to see if the knight can match the fair maiden's stamina? You want to see if he's truly as good as I claim? Then you can sit back, sip your gin, and enjoy the show."

A collective shiver seemed to run through the group. Nayeon’s mouth fell open slightly before snapping shut with a click of her teeth, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated delight. Mina let out a low, appreciative hum, her gaze darkening as it bored into us, already undressing him in her mind. But it was Tzuyu’s reaction that satisfied me the most. She didn't look away; she leaned in, hungry and unblinking, accepting the challenge I had laid down.

"Bold", Tzuyu breathed, her voice barely audible over the music. "I didn't think you had it in you to share even a glimpse, Sana. But I accept. If I have to settle for watching, I intend to see everything."

Nayeon’s apartment was a sleek, modern expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows and white furniture, currently bathed in the soft, amber glow of the city lights below. The air was thick with anticipation and the sharp scent of gin as we filed in, the chaotic energy of the club having dissolved into a focused, predatory tension.

I felt my son’s hand resting firmly against the small of my back, a silent anchor in the storm. He was calm, exuding that tranquil aura that always made my heart race, but I knew him well enough to sense the coiled spring beneath his composed exterior. He was ready.

"Drinks first, I think," Nayeon announced, heading straight for the kitchen. She returned moments later with a crystal decanter and four tumblers, pouring generous measures with a shaky hand that betrayed her own excitement. "To the show," she toasted, her eyes glinting as she handed a glass to Tzuyu, then Mina.

Mina accepted hers with a languid grace, her eyes never leaving my son, who politely declined the alcohol with a soft "No, thank you. I prefer to keep a clear head for... performance."

"Smart boy," Tzuyu murmured, taking a slow sip of her drink before gesturing towards the expansive white rug in the centre of the living room. It lay before the floor-to-ceiling windows like a stage, the city lights of Tokyo sprawling out beneath it, a glittering backdrop for the depravity about to unfold. "The floor is yours. Don't disappoint us."

I felt a tremor of nervous excitement race down my spine, mixing with the champagne’s potent buzz. This was it. The ultimate exhibition. I was about to let my friends witness the most intimate, forbidden part of my life. I looked up at him, searching for any sign of hesitation, but found only that dark, bottomless ocean of blue staring back at me, filled with a quiet, burning intensity.

I took a deep breath, letting the alcohol fizz in my veins, giving me that extra push of courage I needed. I didn't wait for him to make the first move; the night had been about me taking what I wanted, and I wasn't about to stop now. I reached for the hem of my sequined dress and, with a fluid motion, pulled it up and over my head.

The air in the room was cool against my heated skin, but the looks from my friends were incinerating. I stood before them in nothing but my sheer black stockings, suspender belt, and a pair of lace panties that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I kicked the dress aside, hearing it rustle softly on the hardwood floor.

"Ready to see what all the fuss is about?" I asked, my voice breathless and high, pitching it to carry across the room.

The three of them didn't answer with words. Instead, they settled onto the long, white sectional sofa like queens awaiting a spectacle, their drinks held loosely in their hands but their eyes fixed unblinkingly on me. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, a heady mix of voyeuristic curiosity and raw lust.

My son, ever the composed actor in my play, stepped forward. He didn't look at them; his attention was entirely focused on me, stripping away the audience until it felt as though we were the only two people in Tokyo. He reached out, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my waist, sending a jolt of electricity through my system.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, meant solely for my ears despite the acoustics of the room.

He didn't wait for a response, nor did he give me time to succumb to the sudden rush of bashfulness that threatened to colour my cheeks. With a gentle but insistent pressure on my shoulders, he guided me down onto the plush white rug. The fibres were soft against my knees, a stark contrast to the hard floor of the club, and the sensation of being centred in the room—like a prize exhibit—made my blood hum with a mixture of shame and exhilaration.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the three of them shifting on the sofa. Nayeon had perched on the edge of her seat, her knuckles white as she gripped her glass, her bunny-like eyes wide and unblinking. Mina had reclined, her dark gaze hooded and heavy, trailing over my exposed skin with a slow, deliberating heat that felt like a physical touch. And Tzuyu... Tzuyu was simply watching, her chin resting in her palm, a small, satisfied smirk playing on her lips as if she were observing a particularly interesting experiment.

My son knelt before me, blocking out the city lights, his frame dominating my vision. He reached out with those long, elegant fingers and hooked them into the lace of my panties. The drag of the fabric against my thighs as he slid them down was agonisingly slow, a tease that drew a ragged gasp from my throat. When they pooled at my knees, he helped me extricate my legs, leaving me clad only in stockings and suspenders.

The cool air of the apartment kissed my heated skin, raising gooseflesh along my thighs, but the heat in his eyes was enough to burn me alive. He didn't rush. His hands, those large, capable hands that had been teasing me all night, trailed back up my legs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, urging them apart.

I obeyed without thought, opening myself to him, to them. The sheer debauchery of the situation hit me with a dizzying rush—I was Sana, the bubbly, vivacious friend, usually the one teasing the men, but here I was, exposed and vulnerable on my knees before my fifteen-year-old son while my best friends watched like hawks.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a rough scrape of sound that seemed to echo in the silent room. "So eager."

I didn't care about their eyes on me anymore; all that mattered was the dark, predatory glint in his blue gaze. He leaned forward, his breath ghosting over my exposed, slick folds, and I shivered violently. The anticipation was a taut wire pulled tight inside my abdomen, ready to snap.

"Do not take your eyes off her," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a whip crack. He didn't look back at the sofa to see if they obeyed, but I heard the collective intake of breath and the rustle of fabric as they shifted to get a better view. "I want you to see who she belongs to."

With a groan that sounded more like a growl, he buried his face between my thighs. The first drag of his tongue against my clit was electric, a shockwave that ripped a cry from my throat and bowed my spine. He didn't start slow; he attacked with a hunger that mirrored my own insatiable need, licking and sucking with a fervour that made my head spin.

The sensation was overwhelming, a white-hot surge of pleasure that obliterated the thought of our audience from my mind, at least for a moment. His tongue was wickedly clever, flicking and circling my clit with a precision that spoke of hours of practice—practice that I had happily provided. He knew exactly how to flatten it to maximise surface area, then curl it to tease that sensitive bundle of nerves, driving me closer to the edge with every pass.

"God, look at that," Nayeon’s voice drifted to me, sounding distant and warped, as if she were speaking underwater. "Look at how he devours her. I've never seen a man eat pussy like that."

"He certainly doesn't eat like a fifteen-year-old," Mina agreed, her tone thick with appreciation. "Sana, you lucky bitch. His technique is... impeccable."

"Impeccable?" Tzuyu’s cool, analytical voice cut through the haze of my pleasure, forcing me to blink my eyes open and focus on the three women watching us. She hadn't moved from her relaxed pose, but her eyes were dark, fixed intently on the point where my son’s mouth met my body. "It’s not just technique, Mina. It’s devotion. Look at the way he holds her thighs. He’s not just doing it for the pleasure; he’s worshipping."

She was right. Even in the throes of my rapidly unravelling control, I could feel it in the way his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, anchoring me to him. He was devouring me with a single-minded intensity that went far beyond simple lust. He was proving a point to every woman in that room—*and* to himself. I was his. Completely.

He shifted his attention, dragging his tongue lower to circle my entrance, collecting the slick arousal that was practically dripping from me. The sound of his lapping was obscenely loud in the quiet room, a wet, rhythmic noise that made my face burn even as my hips bucked instinctively against his face.

He groaned against me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine and making my toes curl in the carpet. The sound was primal, a possessive rumble that seemed to say mine and mine alone. He brought a hand up, those long, slender fingers that had been resting so innocently on my thigh all night now sliding effortlessly inside me. The stretch was exquisite, a sudden, full pressure that made my breath hitch in a broken sob.

He didn't pump aimlessly; he curled his fingers upwards, finding that spongy, sensitive spot inside me with unerring accuracy, while his mouth resumed its assault on my clit. It was a double-pronged attack of sensory overload, a masterclass in pleasure that had my thighs trembling around his head. I could feel the pressure building rapidly, a tight, coiling knot in my stomach that threatened to snap at any second.

"She's close already," Tzuyu observed, her voice maddeningly calm and analytical. "Look at the way her stomach muscles are contracting. He’s found the spot, hasn't he?"

"He certainly has," I managed to gasp out, my voice sounding ragged and foreign to my own ears. I couldn't have stayed quiet if I’d tried. The dual sensation of his fingers crooking inside me, stroking that hidden place with devastating precision, and his tongue working my clit with relentless, rhythmic pressure was too much to bear. "He... oh god... he knows exactly what he's doing."

"He's relentless," Mina murmured, her voice husky with desire. I could hear the distinct sound of glass clinking against a coaster; she was shifting, unable to sit still. "Look at the control he has. Most boys would be rutting by now, but he’s taking his time. Savouring it."

My son didn't react to their commentary, save for a low, vibrating hum against my flesh that sent fresh jolts of electricity arcing through my nervous system. He was locked in, entirely focused on the task of unravelling me. He increased the pace of his fingers just slightly, a subtle adjustment that felt like turning up the dial on an electric current, while his lips sealed around my clit and sucked hard.

The dam broke. It wasn't a gentle tide but a violent, crashing wave that obliterated every thought in my head. My back bowed off the floor, a sharp, keening cry tearing from my throat as the orgasm slammed into me with the force of a freight train. My vision blurred, the expensive lights of the Tokyo skyline streaking into indistinguishable lines of colour, and for a moment, I was weightless, suspended in a void of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

He didn't stop. He rode me through it, his tongue flicking mercilessly against my over-sensitive clit while his fingers continued to curl inside me, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until I was a trembling, sobbing mess beneath him.

When he finally pulled away, the cool air rushing in to replace the heat of his mouth felt almost like a physical blow. I lay there gasping, my chest heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Through the haze of my afterglow, I could hear the ragged breathing of my friends from the sofa, a collective sound of arousal that matched my own.

He rose slowly, towering over me like a colossus, his face glistening with my essence in the low light. It was an obscenely beautiful sight. He didn't immediately reach for his belt; instead, he looked down at me with that tranquil satisfaction, as if I were a canvas he had just finished painting.

"You know what to do," he urged me.

The command hung in the air, thick with authority and an unspoken challenge. My body, still humming with the residual tremors of my orgasm, moved on autopilot. I wanted to please him, to show these women—these beautiful, cynical women who thought they knew everything about pleasure—that what we had was something else entirely.

I pushed myself up from the floor, my muscles feeling like jelly, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins gave me strength. I knelt before him, reaching out with trembling fingers to the leather belt of his trousers. The buckle clinked softly in the quiet room, the sound sharp and distinct against the backdrop of heavy breathing.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide and submissive, seeking his approval. He gazed down at me, his expression unreadable but for the darkening of his blue eyes, which burned with a possessive fire. He didn't help me; he simply watched, letting me serve him, letting me put on the show he had demanded.

I undid the button with trembling fingers; the sound of the zipper sliding down seemed deafening in the hushed apartment. With a tug, I freed him, his erection springing forth to slap heavily against his abdomen. The sight of him never failed to steal my breath—thick, flushed, and angrily erect, the veins standing out in stark relief against the pale skin.

"Oh my," Nayeon whispered, the sound breaking the spell. "Sana... you weren't exaggerating. He's... magnificent."

I wrapped my hand around the base, savouring the familiar, velvety heat of him. He was steel encased in silk, throbbing in my grip. I leaned in, inhaling his scent—musk, sex, and that clean, unique smell that was purely him—before darting my tongue out to lap at the bead of precum glistening at the tip. He tasted salty and bitter, a flavour that made my mouth water and my core clench in desperate need.

I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking gently, swirling my tongue over the sensitive slit. A low hiss escaped him, his hand moving to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, but he didn't force me down. He held me there, a grounding weight, letting me set the pace even though we both knew he was the one in control.

I took him deeper, relaxing my throat to accommodate his impressive girth, hollowing my cheeks as I bobbed my head. I could feel the eyes of my friends boring into us, their gaze a physical weight that only heightened the intensity. I wanted them to see. I wanted them to see how well I took him, how perfectly we fit together.

"Look at the enthusiasm," Tzuyu murmured, her voice thick with a rare, unguarded lust. "She really is insatiable, isn't she?"

"He's lucky to have found a match," Mina replied, her voice raspy. I heard the distinct clink of ice against glass as she took a desperate sip of her drink, as if she needed it to cool down. "Most men would have spent themselves by now. Look at him. He’s holding back."

The praise washed over me, mingling with the salty taste of him on my tongue. I redoubled my efforts, taking him deeper until the tip hit the back of my throat, suppressing the gag reflex through years of practice and sheer determination. I wanted to devour him whole, to prove that I was the only one who could handle him like this.

"Enough", he said suddenly, his voice tight with restrained effort. His hand in my hair tightened, not to hurt, but to still my movements. "I don't want to finish in your mouth. Not tonight."

The word was a command, sharp and absolute, cutting through the heavy, lust-charged air like a knife. I froze immediately, my lips still wrapped around the velvety head of his cock, my eyes darting upwards to meet his gaze. His jaw was set tight, a muscle fluttering beneath the skin, and his blue eyes were dark, swirling storms of need and dominance.

He pulled me up by my hair, not roughly, but with an insistent, guiding force that made me gasp as I was hauled to my feet. My legs felt shaky, weak from the orgasm that still hummed in my nerve endings, but he steadied me with a hand on my waist, spinning me around to face the sofa.

"Look at them," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Look at your audience."

I blinked, the sudden reorientation of the room sending a fresh wave of dizziness through me. I was facing them now—the three women who had been my confidantes, my partners in crime, and now my voyeurs. Nayeon was leaning so far forward I thought she might tumble off the sofa, her eyes wide and glassy, darting between my face and the imposing figure looming behind me. Mina had abandoned all pretence of composure, her legs crossed tightly, a flush creeping down her neck. And Tzuyu... Tzuyu’s gaze was fixed on my son’s face with an almost frightening hunger.

"He really is magnificent, Sana," Tzuyu breathed, her voice barely carrying over the sound of her own ragged breathing. "I hope you appreciate what you have there."

"I do," I whimpered, the truth of it hitting me with the force of a physical blow. I appreciated every inch of him, every dark, possessive thought that crossed his mind.

I felt the heavy heat of him against my lower back, a stark reminder of what was to come. He didn't give me a moment to gather my scattered thoughts. With a firm hand between my shoulder blades, he guided me down, bending me over until my hands braced against the soft cushions of the sofa, right in front of Nayeon.

My face was inches from Nayeon’s knees. I could smell her perfume—sweet and cloying—and feel the radiant heat coming off her body. She was trembling, her eyes wide and locked onto mine, mirroring the shock and exhilaration coursing through my own system.

"Are you ready, Mum?" he asked, his voice a low, dark rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and straight into my very core.

"I was born ready, sweetheart," I breathed, arching my back to present myself to him, a wanton offering amidst the expensive decor. The position was humiliating and exhilarating all at once. I was bent double, my face inches from my best friend's lap, about to be taken by my son while the city lights watched indifferently through the glass.

I felt the blunt, heat-heavy head of his cock nudge against my entrance, slicking itself through my wetness. The anticipation was a sweet torture. Behind me, he was the picture of composure, but I could feel the tremor in his thighs where they brushed against the back of my legs. He was just as affected as I was, despite the mask.

"Look at me, Sana," Nayeon whispered, her voice trembling. She reached out, her hand hovering for a moment before she gently brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. Her eyes were swimming with a mix of shock and dark fascination. "I want to see your face when he... when he claims you."

"Then watch closely," he growled, the sound barely human, and then he drove forward.

The invasion was absolute. He didn't ease into it; he took me with a single, powerful thrust that seated him to the hilt, sheathing every inch of his hard length inside me. The force of it punched the air from my lungs, a ragged, silent scream tearing at my throat as my body stretched to accommodate him. My fingers dug into the expensive fabric of Nayeon’s sofa, knuckles turning white as I braced myself against the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

"Fuck!" I gasped, the word exploding from me as my head fell back, my eyes squeezing shut. It felt like he was splitting me open, a perfect, burning stretch that obliterated every thought in my head except for the sheer, blinding reality of him inside me.

It was a possession, pure and simple. He didn't wait for my body to adjust to the sudden, searing intrusion; he withdrew almost entirely, leaving me feeling achingly empty, before slamming back in with a force that made my teeth rattle. The sofa creaked in protest, a rhythmic accompaniment to the wet, obscene sound of our bodies colliding.

"Look at her face," he commanded, his voice a guttural growl that seemed to come from deep within his chest. One hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, anchoring me in place, while the other tangled in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to force my gaze upwards. "Don't look away. I want them to see who owns you."

My eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus through the haze of overwhelming sensation. Nayeon was right there, her face a mask of enraptured shock. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps that mirrored my own. She wasn't looking at him; she was looking at me, drinking in the expression of twisted ecstasy on my face as if it were the finest champagne.

"God, she's taking all of it," Mina murmured from her perch on the arm of the sofa, her voice sounding distant and warped, as if I were hearing it underwater. Her dark eyes were fixed on the point where our bodies joined, watching the ruthless, rhythmic thrusting with a clinical fascination that only heightened my shame. "Look at how she stretches around him. It’s... mesmerising."

"He’s ruining her for anyone else," Tzuyu added, her tone cool but laced with a thick, heavy heat. She hadn’t touched her drink since the performance began; her hands were resting on her knees, clenched into tight fists. "I’ve never seen anything like this. The power... it’s intoxicating."

I could feel the heat of their gazes like a physical weight, burning my skin, but the pleasure was a tidal wave that threatened to drown me completely. He was hitting a depth inside me a place that made my vision blur and my toes curl against the plush rug. The wet, slapping sound of skin against skin was obscene, echoing in the high-ceilinged room, but it was the sound of his ragged breathing, hot and heavy against my ear, that undid me.

The pressure inside me built to an unbearable crescendo, a tight coil of heat wound deep in my stomach that was ready to snap. Every thrust knocked a fresh cry from my lips, raw and unfiltered music to his ears. The stretch was exquisite, a burning fullness that made me feel possessed, owned, entirely at his mercy.

"Look at them, Mum," he gritted out, his rhythm never faltering, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the hushed room like a vulgar metronome. "We are giving them a show."

"They certainly can't say they didn't get their money's worth," I gasped out, my voice trembling with the force of his thrusts. I was vaguely aware that this night was costing Nayeon a fortune in champagne and booth fees, but the performance she was giving was worth infinitely more.

My fingers were clawing at the sofa cushion, knuckles white, as I tried to anchor myself against the onslaught of pleasure. He was pounding into me with a relentless, calculated rhythm, each stroke hitting that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I felt like a ragdoll in his hands, completely at his mercy, and I loved every second of it.

"She's beautiful like this," Tzuyu murmured, her voice sounding strained. She shifted closer, her eyes never leaving my face. "You've broken her, haven't you? Shattered that bubbly exterior and left her raw."

"She isn't broken," he corrected, his voice a smooth, dark velvet that cut through the ragged sounds of my breathing. He slowed his pace just fractionally, grinding his hips against my bottom in a way that made me see stars, emphasising his point. "She's free. Aren't you, Sana?"

I couldn't form words, only a high, broken whimper that spilt from my lips. He was right. In this moment, stripped of all pretence and social niceties, bent over before my closest friends with my son buried deep inside me, I had never felt more liberated. The bubbly, energetic mask I wore for the world was gone, leaving only the raw, burning need that defined us.

"Look at me," Nayeon breathed, her hand trembling as she reached out. She didn't touch me—she wouldn't dare, not without his permission—but her fingers hovered just inches from my flushed cheek, her eyes wide and glassy, reflecting the chaotic mix of shock and lust swirling in the room. "I've known you for years, Sana. I've seen you dance, I've seen you drink, I've seen you with men. But I've never seen you look like this."

"Like what?" I managed to choke out, my voice barely recognisable over the wet slap of flesh and the ragged gasps tearing from my throat. The question was a desperate attempt to maintain some shred of dignity, but it came out sounding wrecked and needy.

"Like you've finally found something real," Nayeon whispered, her eyes tracing the contours of my face as if memorising a map of ecstasy. "Like you're not pretending anymore."

It was the truth, and it cut deeper than his thrusts. I wasn't pretending to be the cool, experienced older woman nor the dutiful mother. I was just a vessel for pleasure, caught in a storm of my own making. My body was singing, every nerve ending firing in a symphony of sensation that threatened to short-circuit my brain. I could feel the sweat trickling down my spine, cooling in the air conditioning before being instantly reheated by the friction of his body against mine.

"Baby, I'm so close," I moaned. "Don't stop."

"I have no intention of stopping," he replied, his voice steady despite the ragged rhythm of his breathing. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."

His hand released my hair and snaked around my waist, finding my clit with unerring precision. The calloused pad of his thumb pressed down, circling the tight bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. It was the final straw. The coil inside me snapped, releasing a tidal wave of pleasure that obliterated everything else.

The world didn't just shatter; it disintegrated. A white-hot supernova exploded behind my eyelids, wiping out the expensive apartment, the city lights below, and the three women watching my every move. My body seized, arching into a rigid bow as the orgasm ripped through me with the force of a tsunami. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound that was swallowed by the plush cushions of Nayeon’s sofa, my inner muscles clamping down around him like a vice, desperate to keep him inside, to milk him for everything he was worth.

"God, yes!" I sobbed, the words tumbling out incoherently as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me, drowning me in ecstasy. My fingers tore at the fabric beneath me, my knuckles white, my entire existence narrowing down to the thick, hard length pulsing inside me and my thumb still rubbing ruthless circles against my oversensitive clit.

He didn't let up. He rode me through the storm, his thrusts becoming shallower, harder, driving into my convulsing body with a relentless precision that prolonged the agony until I was a trembling, gasping wreck. He was owning it, owning every second of my fall from grace, and the sheer power of it was intoxicating.

"Get on your back," he told me. "I don't want you to exhaust yourself on the sofa."

The command in his voice left no room for argument, though I doubt I could have formed a coherent sentence even if I’d tried. My legs were trembling violently, the aftershocks of my orgasm still rippling through my nervous system like electric shocks. He withdrew from me slowly, the sudden emptiness aching and profound, making me gasp at the loss.

He gripped my waist, steadying me as I slid down from the edge of the sofa onto the plush white rug. The fibres were soft against my overheated skin, a welcome contrast to the cool air of the room. I looked up at him, sprawled out on the floor like a sacrificial offering, my chest heaving and my skin slick with sweat. I felt utterly wrecked, exposed in the most primal way, yet as I looked into those tranquil blue eyes, I saw a reflection of myself that wasn't shameful but revered.

I manoeuvred myself onto my back, the movement slow and heavy, my limbs feeling like they were made of lead and honey. The rug beneath me was soft, caressing my shoulder blades, but it was nothing compared to the scorching heat of his gaze raking over my exposed body. I spread my legs instinctively, an open invitation, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. The city lights cast long, dancing shadows across his form as he loomed over me, a dark god against the glittering backdrop of Tokyo.

The audience on the sofa had gone eerily quiet, save for the ragged, synchronized sound of their breathing. They were leaning forward, a three-headed hydra of voyeuristic hunger, their eyes glued to the space between my thighs.

"He's... he's not done?" Nayeon whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She sounded almost frightened, but there was a feverish glint in her eyes that betrayed her arousal. "After that?"

"He has not come yet, Nayeon," I managed to pant out, a breathless, euphoric laugh bubbling in my chest as I looked up at the ceiling, the city lights spinning lazily above me."

My son ignored our words . His attention was entirely consumed by me, a heavy, palpable weight that pinned me to the floor more effectively than his body ever could. He settled between my spread thighs, the heat of his skin radiating against mine, searing me. He paused for a moment, his hands resting on either side of my head, framing my face, and simply looked at me. His blue eyes were dark, the pupils blown so wide they almost eclipsed the iris, swimming with a tumultuous mix of love, lust, and a fierce, terrifying pride.

"You look like a goddess," he murmured, the words spoken so softly they were almost lost in the quiet of the room. "My goddess."

Before I could respond—before I could preen or tease or even draw breath—he shifted his weight and sank into me. The return of his thick length inside my sensitive, convulsing channel forced a sharp cry from my lips. It was a tight fit, a stretch that burned so sweetly it bordered on pain, but I welcomed it. I needed it. I needed to be filled by him, to be completed by him, in front of the whole world if necessary.

"Is it too much, Mum?" he asked, his voice strained but still retaining that veneer of calm that he wore like armour. He held himself still, buried to the hilt, giving me a moment to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion.

"Never," I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his lower back to pull him impossibly closer. The movement caused him to slide against that sensitive spot inside me, making us both groan. "I want all of you. Every inch."

He didn't need any further encouragement. He began to move again, a slow, deliberate grind that allowed me to feel every ridge, every vein of him. This position was different; it was more intimate, more exposing. I was completely splayed out, unable to hide a single reaction, and he was looming over me like a conqueror claiming his territory.

"A slow rhythm suits this," he murmured, more to himself than to the room. He lowered his weight onto his elbows, caging me in, bringing our faces so close that our noses brushed. The frantic, pounding pace from before was gone, replaced by a deep, rolling grind that felt impossibly intimate. In this position, I couldn't hide from him. I couldn't lose myself in the sensation; I had to feel every inch, every drag of his skin against mine, every deliberate rotation of his hips.

"Kiss me, baby", I breathed against his lips, my eyes fluttering shut. The need for connection, for that final anchor amidst the storm of sensation, was overwhelming. "Please."

He obliged me without hesitation, sealing his mouth over mine in a kiss that was slow, deep, and devastatingly tender. It was a stark contrast to the ruthless way he was fucking me, a duality that made my head spin. His tongue swept into my mouth, dominating the rhythm there just as he was dominating the rhythm between my thighs, tasting me, claiming me. The taste of him—mingled with the lingering scent of gin and perfume from the air—was intoxicating.

The intimacy of the position, the slow, deliberate drag of his hips, and the gentle sweep of his tongue were unravelling me in an entirely different way than before. This wasn't just about physical release; it was an emotional dismantling. I felt exposed, not just physically to my friends but spiritually to him. I was pouring my soul into his kiss, letting him see the raw, unfiltered need that drove me.

The kiss broke, leaving me gasping for air, my lips tingling and swollen. He didn't pull away far, just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with my own ragged exhalations. The slow, torturous rhythm of his hips never faltered, a relentless, deep grind that was stoking the fires of my arousal all over again, building something different this time—heavier, deeper.

He shifted slightly, rising up on his hands to change the angle, and the new depth made me cry out, my nails digging into the shoulders of his crisp white shirt. He hadn't even bothered to undress fully, and the sight of him—the buttons straining, the fabric dishevelled while he ruined me—only added to the illicit thrill.

"Look at them," he whispered against my lips, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. He didn't break eye contact, forcing me to hold his gaze while he spoke. "Look at your friends. They are mesmerised."

I managed to tear my gaze away from his face, turning my head slightly towards the sofa. My neck felt weak, my body boneless, but the sight that greeted me sent a fresh jolt of electricity through my veins.

My friends were statues of frozen desire, their drinks forgotten in their hands. Mina was perched on the very edge of the cushion, her dark eyes wide and unblinking, fixed intently on the joining of our bodies. Nayeon had her hand pressed over her mouth, her cheeks burning a bright, feverish crimson, her bunny-like eyes shimmering with a mixture of shock and unmistakable arousal. Even Tzuyu, the cool and collected ice queen, looked unravelled. She was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, her gaze locked onto my face with a burning intensity that felt like a physical touch.

"Let's give them a proper finale," he proposed. 

The word finale hung in the air like a promise, dark and sweet as molasses. He didn't give me time to wonder what he meant. With a strength that never ceased to thrill me, he gripped my waist and rolled us. The world spun—white ceiling, city lights, the shocked faces of my friends—until I was straddling him, my knees sinking into the plush rug on either side of his hips.

But he didn't let me settle astride him facing him. His hands guided my hips, turning me like a doll until my back was to his chest. It wasn't until he planted his feet flat on the floor and urged me to lean forward that I realised what he intended. This wasn't just cowgirl; this was reverse cowgirl, a position designed entirely for the benefit of our audience.

"Lean back," he commanded, his voice a low thrum against my spine. "I want them to see everything."

I obeyed instantly, bracing my hands on his thighs for leverage and arching my back until my heavy breasts were thrust towards the sofa. The angle shifted him inside me, hitting a spot so deep and sensitive that I saw stars. I was spread wide, completely on display, my slick, stretched centre inches away from the hungry gazes of Mina, Nayeon, and Tzuyu.

"God, look at that," Nayeon breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She had abandoned her drink entirely, her knuckles white as she gripped her knees. "You can see everything. I can see... I can see him inside you."

The obscenity of her words sent a jolt of pure electricity through me. I looked down at myself, at the place where we were joined, and saw what she meant. My folds were glossy and swollen, wrapped tightly around his thick shaft as it pistoned in and out of me. It was pornographic, intimate, and utterly mesmerising.

His hands gripped my hips, guiding me to move, and I didn't need to be told twice. I lifted myself, the friction of his withdrawal leaving me gasping, before slamming back down, taking him to the hilt. I set a brutal pace, riding him with a desperate, rhythmic need that was fuelled as much by the exhibitionism as by the physical pleasure. Every time I descended, the wet slap of our bodies echoed through the silent room, a vulgar metronome to the ragged breathing of our audience.

"You're taking it so deep, Sana," Mina murmured, her voice thick with arousal. She leaned in closer, her dark eyes fixed on the sight of my son's cock disappearing inside me. "Look at how you stretch around him. It's... it's art."

Art. The word floated through my hazy mind. It felt primal, beyond art, but the intensity in Mina’s gaze suggested she saw a beauty in this raw, filthy act. I looked at them, really looked at them. Nayeon was squirming, pressing her thighs together as if trying to alleviate an ache. Tzuyu’s eyes were blazing, tracking the movement of my breasts as they bounced with every thrust.

The rhythm I set was punishing, a frenetic bounce that had my thighs burning and my breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps. I was chasing something, a high that hovered just out of reach, a precipice I was desperate to throw myself off. The friction of him dragging against my inner walls was exquisite, a tight, hot coil winding tighter and tighter in my belly, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

"Touch me," I cried out, throwing my head back against his shoulder, my damp hair sticking to my flushed skin. "Please, baby. Make me explode."

He didn't hesitate. One hand left my hip, sliding down through the slick sweat coating my stomach until his fingers found my clit. He didn't tease this time; he rubbed tight, fierce circles over the swollen nub, matching the relentless rhythm of my hips. The dual stimulation was electric, a shockwave that had my vision whitening out.

The pressure built with terrifying speed, a roaring tidal wave that obliterated every thought in my head. His fingers were a blur on my clit, ruthlessly exploiting that sensitive bundle of nerves while his cock hammered into that secret place inside me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the terrifyingly tight coil of pleasure winding in my abdomen, ready to snap.

"Don't hold back," he growled in my ear, his voice a dark command that cut through the haze. "Let them see what you really are."

It was too much. The visual of my friends watching, the feeling of being so incredibly full, the relentless circling of his thumb—it all converged into a single, blinding point of no return. I threw my head back, a silent scream tearing from my throat as my body seized up.

My vision shattered into a million fragments of white light. The world as I knew it ceased to exist; there was only the blinding, electric pulse originating from my core and radiating out to my extremities with the force of a supernova.

I wasn't just climaxing; I was detonating.

A guttural, animalistic cry tore from my throat, raw and unfiltered, as the dam broke. The coil inside me snapped with a violence that left me breathless, and then came the flood. It wasn't a metaphor. My body convulsed violently, arching away from his chest, and a sudden, sharp jet of fluid erupted from me, spraying out in a hot, clear arc towards the sofa.

I was vaguely aware of the shocked gasps that erupted from the sofa, followed immediately by the wet, splattering sound of my release hitting the coffee table and, judging by the startled cries from Mina and Nayeon, the front of their dresses. But I couldn't stop. The sensation was blinding, a torrential release that ripped a scream from my lungs and left me shaking uncontrollably.

The fluid sprayed in powerful, rhythmic pulses, drenching the expensive upholstery and my friends in a clear, glistening testament to the pleasure he was wringing from them. I watched through blurred, tear-filled eyes as Nayeon recoiled slightly, her hands flying up to shield her face, though her eyes remained wide and fixed on the source. Mina, ever the bold one, simply sat there, mouth agape, letting the liquid rain down on her chest, mesmerised by the sheer force of it.

But he didn't let me stop. He didn't give me a moment to come down from the high. Even as my body twitched and spasmed in the aftershocks, he kept his fingers working my clit, the stimulation almost agonising against my oversensitive flesh. His other hand held my hips down, impaling me on his length, refusing to let me retreat from the intensity.

He was relentless, a machine of singular purpose. Even as I convulsed, the aftershocks of that cataclysmic release still rippling through my limbs, he didn't pause. His hips continued to snap upwards, driving into that overly sensitive, spongy spot with an accuracy that was almost terrifying. The wet, slapping sound was louder now, obscene and squelching, fuelled by the slick warmth of my own climax.

"No... please, it's too much," I sobbed, my head lolling back against his shoulder, my body heavy and boneless in his grip. I felt like a ragdoll, entirely at his mercy, unable to do anything but take the punishing rhythm he dictated. The overstimulation was a sharp, biting pain that bled dangerously close to pleasure, blurring the lines until I didn't know where one ended and the other began.

"You can take it," he murmured against my ear, his voice a low, dark rumble that vibrated through my chest. "You're not done, Mum. Not until I have cum."

His words were a trigger. The moment he uttered that command, I felt the impossible happen. My body, which I thought had been drained dry, seemed to draw from a hidden, endless reservoir of arousal. The sensation shifted from agonising overstimulation to a rapidly climbing crescendo of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

"I can't... I'm going to... again!" I screamed, my voice cracking as the coil tightened once more, impossibly fast.

He didn't let up. He jackhammered into me, his hips snapping upwards with a speed and force that stole the breath from my lungs, while his fingers tortured my clit with ruthless precision. The friction was indescribable, a blazing heat that seared me from the inside out.

The second peak didn't just arrive; it exploded with the force of a bomb. My entire body went rigid as a board, a silent scream tearing from my throat as the pressure inside me imploded. My inner muscles clamped down around him like a vice, desperate to milk him and to pull him deeper as the universe fractured apart.

Then, the dam broke again.

It was even more violent than the first. A torrent of clear, hot fluid erupted from me, a gushing wave that surged out with unstoppable force. I heard the liquid spray through the air, a sharp, hissing sound that was immediately followed by the wet slap of it hitting the women on the sofa.

The sound was wet and heavy, a distinct splattering as the arc of fluid sprayed across the short distance to the sofa. I watched, dazed and convulsing, as Nayeon let out a high-pitched squeal, throwing her hands up in a futile attempt to shield herself, but the sheer force of it drenched her front, soaking her blouse and leaving her dripping. Tzuyu, closest to the spray, didn't flinch away; she merely squeezed her eyes shut as the liquid hit her chest and face, her mouth open slightly as if catching rain, her composure shattering entirely.

I was a broken record, screaming as my body expelled wave after wave of liquid, a humiliating, liberating deluge that ruined Nayeon's pristine rug and soaked my friends to the bone. I was painting them with pleasure, marking them as witnesses to my absolute debasement.

"God! Sana!" Mina shrieked, though her voice was thick with awe rather than anger. She was wiping her face, but her eyes were glued to the spasming juncture of my thighs, watching the liquid gush out of me around his cock. "You're... you're soaking us!"

"Look at the mess you've made, Sana," Tzuyu breathed out, her voice ragged and utterly devoid of its usual composure. She wiped a glistening trail of fluid from her cheek with the back of her hand, her dark eyes wide and fixed on me with a terrifying intensity. "You've absolutely ruined us."

I couldn't answer. I couldn't do anything but tremble and gasp, my lungs burning for air that wouldn't seem to come. My body was still twitching in the throes of the most violent orgasm of my life, my inner muscles still fluttering weakly around the thick hardness buried deep inside me.

"Turn around," he whispered. "I need to see your face while I finish."

I didn't think I had the strength to move. My limbs felt like lead, heavy and uncooperative, but the dark authority in his voice cut through the fog of my exhaustion. With a soft, whimpering sob, I managed to lift myself off him, the sudden loss of his thick length leaving me feeling achingly empty and gaping.

I turned, my movements clumsy and graceless, swinging my leg over his hips to face him. The rug beneath me was soaked, a dark, damp testament to what had just transpired, but I didn't care. All I cared about was the boy looking up at me with eyes that burnt like blue fire. He was still fully dressed, his shirt sticking to his chest in patches of sweat and his trousers open just enough to free himself. The contrast between his composed attire and my utter ruin made my heart hammer against my ribs.

"Come here," he murmured, reaching out to grip my waist. He pulled me down, positioning me so that I was straddling his thighs, his angry, flushed erection standing proud between us, slick with my essence.

I didn't need to be told twice. I braced my hands on his chest, feeling the frantic thud of his heart beneath the damp cotton, and lifted my hips. I sank onto him, the stretch familiar and welcome, taking him to the hilt in one fluid motion. We both groaned at the contact, a sound of relief and desperate need.

He began to pound into me, his hips snapping with a desperate, relentless rhythm that signalled his own end was near. He abandoned the slow, torturous grind for a frantic, seeking pace, driving into me with a force that rattled my teeth. The wet, squelching sounds of our coupling were obscene, echoing in the sudden, heavy silence of the room, louder than the distant hum of the city outside.

"You've been amazing, Mum," he gritted out, his voice barely recognisable, rough with strain and raw emotion. "Absolutely perfect."

"So have you, my love," I sobbed, overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of his passion. I collapsed against his chest, burying my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex that clung to him like a second skin. I held on for dear life as he used my body, chasing his release with the single-minded focus that defined him.

The world narrowed down to the friction of our bodies and the ragged sound of our breathing. He was moving with a desperate, jagged rhythm, his hips snapping upwards to meet my downward rolls, driving himself impossibly deep. I could feel the swell of him inside me, the thick veins pulsing against my sensitive walls, signalling that he was hovering right on the edge.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice cracking slightly on the words. He gripped my chin, forcing my head up so I had to meet those burning blue eyes. "I want to see you when I cum."

I locked eyes with him, my vision swimming with tears of overstimulation and overwhelming love. His face was flushed, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, matting his brown hair to his skin. He looked beautiful, feral, and entirely mine. I clenched my inner muscles around him, rippling my walls along his length, trying to pull him over the precipice with me.

"Mum, I'm cumming," he whined, his voice cracking and losing all of that cool tranquillity he wore like armour. It was the sound of the boy, not the man, breaking through in the final moments of ecstasy.

"Let go, baby," I whispered, cupping his flushed face in my hands, my thumbs stroking his damp cheeks. "Fill me up. It’s yours."

With a raw, guttural groan that seemed to be wrenched from the very depths of his soul, he obeyed. His grip on my waist became bruisingly tight, anchoring me down as he buried himself to the hilt one last time. I felt him pulse inside me, a thick, hot throb that signalled the start of his release. His whole body stiffened, his back arching off the floor, and then he was flooding me with

The sensation was intense and intimate—a deep, scorching heat that spread through my core, claiming me in a way that went far beyond the physical. Rope after rope of his cum painted my insides, marking me, filling me until I could feel the slick warmth threatening to overflow. He cried out my name, a broken, desperate sound that was the sweetest thing I had ever heard, his eyes squeezing shut as the ecstasy overwhelmed him.

"Yes, baby, that's it," I crooned, pressing soft kisses against his damp forehead as he shuddered through the final throes of his release. "Every last drop. It’s all yours."

I held him close, my fingers combing through his sweat-slicked hair, offering comfort as the waves of pleasure subsided into a heavy, satiated languor. Inside me, I could feel the warmth of his essence, a glowing reminder of what we had just shared, a tangible claim that made me feel possessed most wonderfully. His grip on my waist slowly loosened, his fingers trailing idly over my spine as his breathing slowed, the frantic thumping of his heart against my chest gradually returning to its steady, tranquil rhythm.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were our ragged breaths mingling together and the distant, rhythmic hum of the city air conditioning. It was a bubble of peace amidst the chaos of the night, a quiet afterglow that felt sacred.

The bubble of peace, however, was destined to burst. As the fog of ecstasy began to lift, replaced by the cool clarity of the apartment's air conditioning, the reality of our surroundings crashed back in. The scent of sex and expensive gin was heavy in the air, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of utter debauchery.

I slowly lifted my head from the crook of his neck, my muscles protesting the movement. I felt wrecked in the best possible way, a delicious ache radiating from my centre out to my fingertips. But as I shifted, I became acutely aware of the silence from the sofa—a silence that wasn't peaceful, but stunned.

I turned my head, my damp hair sticking to my cheek, and looked at my friends.

My gaze travelled over the scene, and I couldn't suppress the breathless, slightly hysterical giggle that bubbled up in my chest. It was a picture of utter devastation. The pristine white aesthetic of Nayeon’s apartment had been thoroughly violated.

Nayeon sat frozen, her expensive designer blouse soaked through, turning the sheer fabric transparent where it clung to her skin. Her blonde hair was plastered to her forehead in damp tendrils, and her mascara was beginning to run, giving her a smudgy, raccoon-like appearance. Mina was in a similar state, wiping her hand across her face in a daze, looking like a cat that had been caught in a downpour. And Tzuyu... Even Tzuyu, the unshakeable ice queen, looked thoroughly unravelled. Her cheek glistened with the evidence of my climax, and her dress was spotted with damp patches; her composure drowned in a literal wave of fluid.

"Well," I gasped out, my voice hoarse and wrecked, sounding miles away from the bubbly tone I usually adopted. "I guess we really made a splash, didn't we?"

The silence stretched, taut and trembling, before Nayeon let out a high-pitched, disbelieving laugh. She looked down at her drenched blouse, then up at me, her eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of shock and sheer, unadulterated awe.

"A splash?" she choked out, wiping a stray droplet from her chin. "Sana, you didn't just make a splash. You created a monsoon season in my living room. I’m going to need a squeegee to get this out of the carpet."

Mina shook her head slowly, droplets of fluid flying from her dark hair like a wet dog shaking itself dry. She ran a hand through her damp tresses, her feline eyes glued to where I still sat atop my son, our bodies still joined in the aftermath. "I've seen a lot of things in this city," she murmured, her voice husky and filled with genuine respect. "I've seen orgies that would make a porn star blush. But I have never... never seen anything like that. That was... biblical."

Tzuyu reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, pulling out a handful and dabbing ineffectually at the sticky trail on her cheek. She didn't look angry, though; if anything, the cool, analytical mask had slipped entirely to reveal a woman deeply, thoroughly shaken.

"Biblical" is one word for it," Tzuyu said, her voice lacking its usual smooth polish, sounding slightly breathless. She tossed the used tissues onto the growing pile of debris on her pristine table. "I think the technical term is 'female ejaculation', but 'biblical' seems more appropriate given the volume." She paused, her dark eyes fixing on my son with an expression that was half-fear, half-worship. "You really broke the dam, didn't you?"

I felt a surge of possessive pride warm my chest, even as my cheeks burned with the remnants of shame. I leaned back, allowing my son to support my weight, feeling the sticky, slick heat between us where our bodies were still connected. The reality of what we’d done—the sheer, unadulterated depravity of it—was settling in, but instead of regret, I felt a strange, light-headed euphoria.

I glanced down at him, my chest swelling with an affection that was so fierce it almost hurt. He was recovering quickly, that tranquil mask slipping back into place over the boy who had just screamed my name in ecstasy. He looked up at me, his blue eyes clear and focused, though a faint blush still dusted his cheekbones—a charming reminder of his youth.

He gently helped me dismount, the separation leaving me achingly empty and a thick, warm trickle of his release escaping me, sliding down my inner thigh in sticky rivulets. The sensation was lewd, a clear reminder of his claim, and I made no move to hide it. Let them look. Let them see exactly who I belonged to.

As I scrambled to my feet, my knees wobbling like a newborn fawn, I felt the full extent of the mess I had made. The plush white rug was a disaster zone, a dark, sodden map of our debauchery. I looked back at my friends, expecting to see disgust, or at the very least, a plea to leave.

Instead, I was met with a tableau of dazed fascination. Nayeon was still dabbing at her wet blouse with a cocktail napkin, though the effort was entirely futile; the sheer fabric was plastered to her skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. Yet, she wasn’t looking at her clothes with annoyance. Her eyes were fixed on the slick warmth trickling down my inner thigh, her expression a mix of scientific curiosity and raw arousal.

"I think I need a shower," Tzuyu announced, breaking the heavy silence. She stood up slowly, her designer dress sticking to her in awkward places, but she carried herself with a regal sort of calmness. She looked down at us—my son, who was calmly tucking himself back into his trousers with that maddeningly serene demeanour, and me, standing naked and shivering in the centre of a vast wet patch. A slow, incredulous smile spread across her face. "That was... without a doubt, the most impressive thing I have ever witnessed. And I have seen the pyramids."

"I second the shower," Mina purred, rising with a feline grace that was slightly compromised by the squelch of her heels against the wet rug. She stepped closer to us, invading my personal space to press a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek. She smelled like gin, expensive perfume, and me. "You really are a lucky woman, Sana. To find a man who can do that... let alone one who looks like him." She turned her dark gaze to him, offering him a sultry wink. "You're welcome back anytime, knight. Just... maybe bring a tarp next time."

My son offered Mina a small, polite nod, accepting her teasing with that same unflappable calm he displayed when I handed him his maths homework. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied smoothly, reaching out to adjust the strap of my bra, which had slipped down my shoulder during the festivities. "Though, I suspect Sana prefers spontaneity over plastic sheets."

"Spontaneity is good," Nayeon groaned, finally abandoning her futile attempts to salvage her blouse. She peeled the wet fabric away from her skin with a sticky thwack, looking down at the damage with a mixture of horror and amusement. "But next time, let's be spontaneous in the shower. Or a tiled room. Somewhere with drainage."

"I'll call the cleaners," Tzuyu said, already pulling her phone from her clutch, her thumb flying across the screen. She paused, looking over the rim of the device at us, a genuine, appreciative smile curving her lips. "And don't worry about the rug, Sana. It was worth the price of admission. That was... a masterpiece."

"You'd better order some food as well," Nayeon chimed in, dropping the sodden cocktail napkin onto the table with a wet splat. She stretched her arms above her head, her joints popping audibly, a testament to the tension she had held while watching us. "I’m starving. Watching a performance like that works up an appetite."

My son, who had just finished buttoning his trousers and was now smoothing down the front of his shirt, looked at Nayeon with a polite tilt of his head. "What is on tonight's menu?" 

"Something greasy and entirely inappropriate for this time of night," Nayeon declared, rubbing her stomach which gave a surprisingly loud, unladylike growl. "Pizza. The kind with extra cheese and pepperoni that clogs your arteries just by looking at it. We need comfort food after that... athletic display."

"Pizza sounds adequate", my son agreed, his tone suggesting he was discussing a diplomatic treaty rather than a takeaway order. He turned to me, his eyes scanning my body with a critical, assessing gaze. "But first, Mum, you need to clean up. You’re trembling."

I looked down at myself and realised he was right. My skin was prickling with gooseflesh, the rapid cooling of my sweat and the drying fluids making me shiver violently. I felt sticky, used, and utterly magnificent. I reached out for him, needing his grounding presence, and he immediately stepped into my embrace, wrapping his arms around my naked form and sharing his body heat.

He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, generating friction to warm my chilled skin, before pressing a kiss to my forehead that was filled with a tender, protective affection. It was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic dominance he had displayed just moments ago, but that duality was what made him so intoxicating.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured against my skin, his breath warm and steadying. "Let's get you sorted."

He didn't seem to care that I was naked and sticky and that my friends were watching our every move with bated breath. He simply scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, with an effortless strength that made my head spin. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him—sweat, sex, and that clean, comforting smell that was uniquely his.

"A gentleman to the last," Mina purred, her voice thick with admiration as she watched him carry me towards the hallway. "Don't be too long, you two. The pizza won't wait forever." 

The bathroom was a sanctuary of white marble and polished chrome, a stark contrast to the sticky, chaotic wreckage of the living room. As he set me down on the cool tiled floor, the silence enveloped us, heavy and soothing. He didn't immediately turn on the water; instead, he stood behind me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders, his warmth seeping into my chilled skin.

"You were incredible," he murmured, his voice low and reverent, echoing off the tiled walls. "I've never seen you let go like that."

I leant back into him, closing my eyes as I felt the tension drain from my muscles. "I couldn't help it," I admitted softly, a shy smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "You made me feel... things I didn't know I could feel. And knowing they were watching..." I shivered again, but this time it wasn't from the cold. "It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once."

He turned me around gently, his expression softening as he cupped my face in his hands. His blue eyes, usually so tranquil and guarded, were swimming with a depth of emotion that made my breath hitch. He looked at me not as the sultry woman who had just performed for an audience but with the tender, protective gaze of the boy I had raised.

"They were terrified of you," he corrected, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Mina and Nayeon... they've seen everything, or so they thought. But tonight, you showed them a power they couldn't comprehend." He brushed a stray damp hair away from my forehead, his touch feather-light. "And Tzuyu... she respects strength above all else. You earned her worship tonight."

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, a strange mixture of maternal pride and feminine satisfaction warming me from the inside out. "I just wanted to make you proud," I whispered, reaching up to cover his hand with mine.

"You always make me proud, Sana," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, stripping away the last of my lingering insecurities with a single sentence. "But tonight... tonight you were the protagonist of a story they won't ever forget."

With that, he reached past me, his arm brushing against my shoulder, and turned the chrome dial of the shower. The water hissed to life, cascading from the wide rainfall head in a steamy deluge that instantly began to fog up the glass enclosure. He checked the temperature with his hand, ensuring it was perfect before guiding me inside.

The feeling of the hot water hitting my skin was transcendent. It washed away the sticky, cooling evidence of our exertions, the fluids and sweat swirling down the drain at my feet. I stood under the spray, letting it soak my hair and run over my face, feeling myself slowly return to my body after being so thoroughly shattered apart.

He joined me a moment later, the small space instantly feeling warmer and more intimate with his presence. But unlike the frantic, needy coupling of moments ago, his touch now was purely utilitarian and tender. He reached for the expensive, jasmine-scented body wash that sat in a caddy on the wall and poured a generous amount into his palm.

"Tilt your head back," he instructed softly.

I obeyed, closing my eyes as he began to lather the soap into my hair. His fingers were strong, massaging my scalp with a slow, rhythmic pressure that made me hum with contentment. It felt so domestic, so strangely normal after the depravity we had just indulged in, that it brought a lump to my throat. This was the boy who needed help with his homework, now washing my hair with the care of a lover who had worshipped every inch of me.

He took his time, working his way through the tangles with a patience that belied his youth. The scent of jasmine filled the steamy air, replacing the musk of sex and gin that had clung to us like a second skin. I stood there, eyes closed, surrendering to the sensation of his fingers moving deftly against my scalp. It was a stark, beautiful contrast to the way his hands had gripped my hips only minutes ago—bruising, demanding, and possessive. Now, they were gentle, reverent almost, treating me as though I were something fragile and precious that needed to be pieced back together.

"Rinse", he murmured, guiding me gently under the spray.

I ducked my head, letting the hot water wash away the thick lather, the suds cascading down my back and over my curves before swirling into the drain. When I straightened up, wiping the water from my eyes, he was waiting with a face cloth soaked in more soapy lather.

He moved with a deliberate, unhurried grace, starting at my shoulders and working his way down. The cloth was warm and soft, gliding over my skin in soothing circles. He washed away the sweat and the lingering scent of the club, his touch attentive and thorough. There was nothing sexual in the way his hands roamed over my body now; it was purely an act of devotion, a silent acknowledgement that he had taken me to the brink of destruction and was now carefully putting me back together.

I watched his face through the steam, the droplets of water clinging to his long eyelashes. He looked so focused, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, as if cleaning me were the most important task in the world. It made my heart ache with a fierce, overwhelming love.

"You're staring," he murmured, not looking up from where he was gently scrubbing my arm.

"Can you blame me?" I replied softly, my voice echoing slightly in the tiled enclosure. "I'm just admiring the view. You're incredibly handsome, you know that? And to think, just a little while ago you were making a mess of me with those very hands."

He paused, his hand resting on my hip, and finally looked up. A small, knowing smile curved his lips, the water running in rivulets down his handsome face. "I think we established that the mess was mostly of your making, Mum. Though I suppose I acted as the catalyst."

He moved lower, his hand guiding the cloth over my stomach, washing away the sticky residue that had dried there. The touch was soothing and hypnotic, making my eyelids grow heavy. The heat of the shower, combined with his gentle ministrations, was lulling me into a state of blissful lethargy.

"And a very effective catalyst you were," I sighed, leaning into his touch as he ran the cloth down my thigh, careful around the sensitive skin. "I feel like I've been wrung out and put back together again. I don't think I've ever come that hard in my life."

He knelt before me, the water streaming over his shoulders and dampening his shirt, which he was still wearing, the wet fabric clinging to his torso. It was a surreal image—my fully dressed son, on his knees in a shower, bathing me with the devotion of a penitent monk. He washed my legs with meticulous care, lifting one foot and then the other to clean the soles, his grip firm and sure.

"You let go of all your inhibitions," he opined, looking up at me from beneath his wet lashes. "It was beautiful to watch. The way you surrendered to the pleasure... it was honest. Raw." He pressed a kiss to my knee, a chaste, tender gesture that contrasted sharply with the debauchery we had left outside. "The girls were right to be awestruck. You were magnetic."

I felt a blush rising, not from shame, but from the sheer intensity of his gaze. Even here, under the guise of caretaking, he was stripping me bare. "You make me feel safe enough to be raw," I whispered, running my fingers through his soaking wet hair, pushing the strands back from his forehead. "I know you'll catch me when I fall."

He stood up, water cascading down his clothed form, and squeezed a little more body wash into his hand. "Then I'll always be here to catch you." He reached around me, his hands gliding over my back, washing away the tension that had settled there. His fingers found the dip of my spine and traced it down, a soothing, repetitive motion that made me want to purr like a contented cat.

"Though", he continued, his tone shifting slightly, a hint of that dry, analytical wit creeping back in, "I suspect Tzuyu is currently calculating the fluid dynamics of what just occurred. She looked like she'd witnessed a miracle or a natural disaster."

"I think she witnessed both," I laughed, the sound echoing brightly off the wet tiles, finally feeling the last of the heavy tension in my chest dissolve. "A natural disaster of the very best kind. Did you see her face? I think I actually broke Tzuyu. The unshakeable ice queen, covered in... well, me."

"It was a look of scientific wonder," he agreed, his hands moving to wash my stomach, the cloth gentle against my sensitised skin. "Mina, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to join in. She has a voracious appetite, that one; I felt her eyes on me the entire time."

"Jealous?" I teased, arching a brow at him, though a familiar sharp pang of possessiveness pricked at me nonetheless.

"Perhaps a little," he admitted with a refreshing honesty that made my heart skip a beat. He didn't avert his gaze; he held mine steadily, the water plastering his brown hair to his forehead. "But not because I wanted her. It was more... overwhelming. Like standing too close to a fire. But you..." He stepped closer, the wet fabric of his shirt pressing against my bare skin, his hands settling on my waist. "You are the one who burns me, Mum. In a way that no one else ever could."

The possessive flutter in my chest settled into a warm, glowing hum. I reached up, undoing the buttons of his sodden shirt with clumsy fingers. The fabric was heavy and clinging, and I wanted to feel his skin against mine, not the barrier of wet cotton.

"Let's get this off you," I murmured, pushing the shirt down his shoulders. He obliged, shrugging out of it and letting it fall with a wet slap to the tiled floor. "You're overdressed for a shower, knight."

He offered no resistance, simply standing there with that tranquil patience as I revealed the body beneath the soaked fabric. The sight of him never failed to steal the breath from my lungs. He was lean and sculpted; the definition of his muscles cast in shadow by the dim lighting of the shower, water coursing down the lines of his chest and stomach in rivulets that traced the paths I had mapped with my tongue and hands a hundred times before.

"Better?" he asked, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as I ran my palms over his shoulders, feeling the warm, slick skin beneath my fingertips.

"Much", I murmured, stepping closer until our bodies were flush, the water cascading over us both. The contrast was thrilling—my soft, yielding curves pressed against his hard, firm planes. "Now you look like part of the ensemble."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him under the spray with me, letting the water saturate us both until we were drowning in the warmth. The scent of jasmine swirled around us, heady and sweet, masking the lingering traces of sweat and sex. I rested my forehead against his, the steam wrapping us in a private little world where nothing existed but the rhythm of our breathing and the steady beat of his heart against my chest.

"Do you think they'll ever look at me the same way again?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper over the rushing water. The thought had been niggling at the back of my mind—a tiny crack in the armour of my euphoria. I had just performed the most intimate act imaginable in front of them, crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

He pulled back slightly, framing my face with his hands, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "They will look at you with more respect," he said firmly, his blue eyes piercing through the mist. "Before tonight, to them, you were Sana—the bubbly, beautiful friend who loves a party. Now..." He paused, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. "Now, you are a force of nature. You showed them a side of yourself that is raw and real. People either fear that or worship it. With them? I suspect it will be the latter."

The thought settled over me, warm and comforting, like the steam filling the small glass cubicle. I believed him. He saw the world with such clarity, such terrifying precision, that his analysis was rarely wrong. If he said they would worship me, then they would. It was a heady power trip, one that rivalled the physical pleasure we had just indulged in.

"Worship", I repeated, testing the weight of the word on my tongue. I looked up at him, a playful glint returning to my eyes as the water continued to cascade over us. "I suppose I could get used to that, though I prefer being worshipped by you in... more practical ways."

He huffed a soft laugh, the sound vibrating against my chest where our bodies were pressed together. "I think I’ve demonstrated my capacity for practical worship quite thoroughly tonight. But", he added, his hands sliding down my back to rest on the curve of my bottom, squeezing gently, "I am always willing to reaffirm my devotion.”

We stayed like that for a while, locked together under the steaming spray, the water running over us in a rhythmic, soothing cascade. The conversation faded into a comfortable, heavy silence, the kind that only exists when two people are entirely in sync. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart, feeling the tension of the night finally bleed out of my muscles, leaving me loose and languid. There was no need for words now; the washing had been an act of communion, a silent promise that despite the storm we had unleashed, we were grounded, we were whole, and we were together.

Eventually, the water began to cool, signalling that it was time to face the world again. He reached out, turning off the tap with a decisive click. The sudden silence was deafening for a moment, broken only by the drip, drip, drip of the residual water from the showerhead.

He stepped out first, grabbing two thick, fluffy white towels from the heated rail. He wrapped one around his waist, covering the lean, powerful lines of his body, before holding the other open for me. I stepped into his embrace, sighing contentedly as he wrapped the towel around me, tucking the corner in securely to keep the warmth trapped against my skin. He dried me with the same gentle attention he had washed me with, patting the water from my hair and smoothing the towel over my shoulders and arms, treating me like something precious he had just polished.

"I think that's sufficient," he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork, though his eyes lingered on the patch of skin exposed at my chest where the towel gaped slightly. "Unless you intend to prune?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Heaven forbid. Wrinkles are the enemy." I quickly rubbed the towel over my legs and tucked it tighter around myself, revelling in the plush softness against my skin. "Robes?"

"Indeed", he opened the linen cupboard, retrieving two thick, white waffle-kimono robes. He helped me into mine first, guiding my arms through the sleeves and tying the sash around my waist with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. Once I was covered, he shrugged into his own, the white fabric contrasting starkly with his tanned skin and damp, dark hair. We looked like spa refugees, albeit ones who had just engaged in the most debauched activity imaginable.

"Ready to face the music?" he asked, offering me his arm with a courtly grace that made me want to giggle.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, looping my arm through his and resting my head briefly against his damp shoulder. "Though I suspect the music has been replaced by the sound of chewing."

We walked back down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling our footsteps. The air outside the bathroom was cooler, carrying the rich, savoury aroma of melting cheese, pepperoni, and baked dough. It was a grounding, homely scent that clashed beautifully with the lingering memory of sex and expensive perfume.

When we emerged into the living room, the scene had transformed. The harsh, erotic tension that had saturated the air earlier had dissipated, replaced by a cosy, chaotic camaraderie. The lights had been dimmed, casting a warm, amber glow over the space, and the massive wet patch on the rug—which had looked like a crime scene minutes ago—had been tactfully covered by a throw blanket.

The girls were clustered around the coffee table, which was now cluttered with open pizza boxes and fresh glasses of soda and water. They were no longer the sleek, predatory observers of earlier; they looked like a group of friends having a sleepover, albeit in designer dresses that were slightly worse for wear.

"Look who's alive!" Nayeon announced through a mouthful of cheese, waving a half-eaten slice in the air. She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, wearing a fluffy dressing gown she had clearly conjured from her bedroom, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. "We were about to send a search party or just eat all the pepperoni."

"Rescue accepted, but unnecessary", my son replied with that dry, tranquil wit of his, offering a polite nod to the group as he guided me towards the sofa. "Though I believe the pepperoni is safe with us."

Mina, who was reclined on the chaise longue with a slice of pizza poised daintily between her fingers, smirked as we approached. Her eyes, still holding that dark, predatory glint, swept over us. "You look positively glowing, Sana. Honestly, it's unfair. Most people look like death warmed up after... that level of cardio. You look like you've just had a month at a Swiss spa."

"It's all down to the excellent aftercare service," I teased, sinking gratefully onto the soft cushions. I kept the robe tight around me, relishing the feeling of cleanliness and warmth. My body felt heavy, used in the best possible way, a delicious ache lingering in my muscles that served as a constant reminder of what had transpired.

My son sat beside me, close enough that our thighs touched beneath the fabric of our robes. The contact was grounding, a silent reminder of the shift in our reality. He didn't reach for the food immediately; instead, he poured me a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, his movements precise and economical.

"You need to rehydrate," he declared quietly, pressing the cool glass into my hand. His blue eyes scanned my face with a clinical intensity that softened into affection. "Physiologically speaking, you lost a lot of fluids tonight."

I took the glass, fighting back a blush that had nothing to do with the heat of the room. "I think we established that rather spectacularly," I murmured, taking a long sip. The water was crisp and cold, exactly what I needed. I looked over at Tzuyu, who was sitting in the armchair, her legs tucked beneath her. She was watching us with that analytical gaze of hers, swirling a glass of soda thoughtfully.

"It is a matter of simple thermodynamics and biological limits," Tzuyu replied, her voice regaining its usual silky smooth cadence, though her eyes remained fixed on me with a new, unsettling intensity. She took a slow sip of her drink, condensation dripping onto her finger. "The human bladder shouldn't be capable of that volume without spontaneous rupture. I'm half-tempted to ask for a medical analysis."

I nearly choked on my water, spluttering slightly as I set the glass down. My son immediately reached out, his hand resting firmly and comfortingly on my lower back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

"I assure you, no medical intervention was required," he claimed calmly, his tone cutting through Tzuyu’s clinical curiosity with a polite finality. "It was merely a... intense release of tension. Perfectly natural, given the circumstances."

"Natural?" Tzuyu repeated, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. She set her glass down with a soft clink, her gaze drifting from my face to his, a flicker of genuine amusement breaking through her analytical veneer. "I've studied biology, sweetheart, and what happened out there was nothing short of a statistical anomaly – a delightful, terrifying anomaly." She picked up a slice of pizza, eyeing it with a sudden voraciousness. "But I suppose we can leave the scientific inquiry for another night; I'm starving."

"Please do", I replied, my voice regaining some of its usual bubbly strength as the food and water revitalised me. "I'm not sure my ego could survive a post-coital peer review of my... performance."

"Performance?" Mina laughed, a low, throaty sound, as she shifted on the chaise, making room for Nayeon to steal a crust from her box. "Sana, darling, that wasn't a performance. That was an exorcism. You were channelling something primal." She looked at my son, her eyes softening with a genuine warmth that caught me off guard. "And you... you have very steady hands for a boy of your age. You kept her safe."

"I'm her knight," he responded her. "It's my duty and outmost pleasure to keep her safe."

The table went quiet at that, save for the rhythmic crunch of Nayeon attacking her pizza crust. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a heavy, contemplative one, as if the title he had claimed so casually carried a weight none of us had anticipated. Mina paused, her slice halfway to her mouth, and looked at him with a new-found softness that stripped away her usual feline sarcasm.

"Her knight," she repeated, rolling the phrase around her mouth like a fine wine. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his where it rested on his knee. It wasn't a sexual advance this time, but a gesture of genuine respect. "You really mean that, don't you? It’s not just a roleplay thing for you."

"I take my responsibilities seriously," he replied, his voice low and calm, his blue eyes meeting hers without flinching. "And Sana is the most important responsibility I have.”

"Mina has a point, you know," Nayeon mused around a mouthful of spicy pepperoni, washing it down with a generous swig of soda. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes darting between us with a speculative gleam that I knew all too well. It was the look she gave a pair of shoes she wanted to borrow, or a holiday destination she was determined to drag us all to. "You can't hoard a treasure like that forever, Sana. It’s... greedy."

I froze, my hand hovering halfway to the pizza box. The air in the room shifted instantly, the cosy camaraderie cooling into something tenser, heavier. My son’s hand on my back stilled, his fingers pressing slightly more firmly against my spine—a silent signal of support, or perhaps a warning. I looked at Nayeon, expecting to see a joke in her bunny-like smile, but her expression was deadly serious.

"Don't look at me like I'm asking for your kidney," Nayeon laughed, though her eyes remained fixed on him with a hungry curiosity. "I'm just saying... an exclusive contract is so last season. Why not open the bidding? Think of the fun we could have."

"I'm not asking for a bidding war," Mina interjected smoothly, her voice like dark velvet. She had abandoned her pizza, her focus entirely on us. "I'm asking for a loan. A... private exhibition. One on one." She glanced at Tzuyu, then back to me, her feline gaze heavy with intent. "We saw how he handles you, Sana. We felt the energy in this room. We’re curious to know if that focus... that intensity... translates. Surely you can understand the scientific curiosity?"

"And the sheer boredom," Tzuyu added dryly, though her eyes betrayed her. She wasn't bored; she was fascinated. "We’ve exhausted the dating pool in Tokyo. It’s either boys who play games or men who want to buy us. He..." She gestured towards him with her pizza crust. "He is a paradox. I want to deconstruct him."

"He's not a puzzle to be solved, Tzuyu," I said, my voice sharper than I intended, the protective flare sparking instantly in my chest. "And he's certainly not a toy to be passed around like a novelty bottle of champagne."

I looked at them—my three best friends, the women I had shared clothes, secrets, and beds with for years. They were gorgeous, successful, and accustomed to getting what they wanted. But this wasn't a designer handbag or a table at a VIP club. This was him. My son. My knight.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, broken only by the low hum of the city air conditioning. I felt the weight of their gazes, hungry and expectant, and for a moment, I felt the old Sana—the bubbly, people-pleasing pushover—trying to resurface. But then I felt his hand shift on my back, his thumb stroking my spine with a steady, grounding rhythm. He wasn't panicking. He was waiting. Trusting me.

I looked down at him, really looked at him, expecting to see a flicker of panic or perhaps a burning desire to say 'yes' to three of the most beautiful women in Tokyo. But he was perfectly composed, his profile serene in the warm light of the room. He took a casual sip of his water, his Adam's apple bobbing gently, completely unbothered by the auction taking place over his head. If anything, he seemed faintly amused by the notion that he was a prize to be won.

He wasn't just a boy I was hiding away; he was a partner who had just held my hand through a hurricane of pleasure and come out the other side holding me up. The idea of sharing that—the depth of his focus, the way he made me feel safe and wildly exposed all at once—it wasn't an act of charity. It was an act of pride. I wanted them to know exactly what I had. I wanted them to understand the quality of the man—no, the male—I was raising.

But I wasn't about to send him into the lion's den alone. The very thought of Mina's sharp nails or Tzuyu's cool, dissecting gaze on him without me there to anchor him made my stomach twist with a nausea that had nothing to do with the champagne. I wasn't jealous of the pleasure; I was terrified of the disconnect. What we had was a symbiotic thing, a feedback loop of love and lust that required us both to function.

"You want to borrow him?" I repeated, my voice dropping to a murmur as I turned the idea over in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, volatile and thrilling, like playing with matches in a dry forest. I looked from Mina’s hungry gaze to Tzuyu’s clinical dissection, and finally to Nayeon’s eager, bouncing anticipation. They wanted a taste of the fire that had nearly burned the apartment down. 

I looked down at my son again. He was watching me now, his blue eyes calm and clear, devoid of fear or objection. He was waiting for my lead, trusting my judgement with a faith that made my heart ache. He knew I was the gatekeeper. He knew that I held the keys to the kingdom.

I took a deep breath, the decision settling in my chest with a heavy, final kind of click. It was madness, absolute insanity, but as I looked at their faces—faces I loved as much as my own—I realised I didn't want to deny them anymore. I wanted to share my masterpiece. But on my terms.

I reached out, taking a slice of pizza from the box and biting into it without really tasting it, using the motion to buy myself a few seconds of thinking time. The cheese was hot and stringy, a mundane comfort against the wild, chaotic thrum of my thoughts.

"You want to know if he's as good as he looks," I stated finally, wiping my mouth with a napkin and meeting Mina’s eyes directly. "You want to see if that calm, tranquil demeanour cracks when he's inside you. If his hands are as steady when they're on someone else's skin."

"Well," Nayeon drawled, grinning unrepentantly. "When you put it that bluntly... yes. We’re only human, Sana. We just witnessed a religious experience. We want to know if we can get a ticket to heaven too."

I swallowed the rich, heavy cheese, washing it down with a gulp of water to clear my throat. The silence in the room was absolute, the kind that only happens when everyone is holding their breath, waiting for a verdict. I could feel the weight of their anticipation pressing against my skin, but more importantly, I could feel the steady, grounding warmth of my son beside me. He hadn’t flinched, hadn’t tensed; he was simply there, a solid pillar of support waiting for my command.

"I suppose," I began slowly, my voice gaining strength as I articulated the wild thought taking root in my mind, "I could be persuaded to share my... assets."

A collective exhale swept through the room, followed immediately by the sharp intake of breath that signalled victory. Nayeon actually pumped her fist, a childish gesture of delight that made me laugh despite the gravity of the situation.

"But," I continued, my voice hardening just enough to cut through their celebration, "there are conditions. Non-negotiable ones."

The smiles on their faces froze, hovering between delight and apprehension. I felt my son’s hand on my back give a gentle, reassuring squeeze, a silent acknowledgment that he was with me, whatever I decided. I looked at each of them in turn—Mina’s predatory intrigue, Nayeon’s wide-eyed eagerness, Tzuyu’s cool assessment—making sure they understood exactly what they were agreeing to.

"I'm not sending him off alone like a takeaway delivery," I stated firmly, picking up another piece of pizza and using it to gesture for emphasis. "If you want to experience what he has to offer, then you get both of us. We are a package deal."

"Both of you?" Nayeon repeated, her eyes going wide as she processed the caveat. She looked from me to him, and then back again, her brain clearly working overtime to calculate the logistics. "You mean... a threesome? Or a foursome? Or...?"

"I mean where he goes, I go," I clarified, taking a deliberate bite of my pizza to let the words sink in. I chewed slowly, watching the realisation dawn on their faces. "You want his focus? You get his mother watching him give it to you. You want his body? You have to deal with me directing the traffic. We are a unit, ladies. A symbiotic entity. You don't get to isolate the variable."

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with a sudden, electric tension. I half-expected them to laugh it off, to call me a clingy mother and demand the boy on his own. But instead, I watched the wheels turn. Mina’s dark eyes narrowed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she visualised the scenario. Tzuyu’s analytical gaze shifted from him to me, her brow furrowing slightly as if running a complex simulation in her head. And Nayeon... Nayeon looked like all her Christmases had come at once.

"Deal," Nayeon breathed, the word escaping her lips like a prayer. She didn't even blink. "Absolutely, one hundred percent, deal. God, Sana, you really know how to negotiate. That sounds... infinitely better, actually."

Mina was slower to respond, her gaze shifting from me to him with a heavy, languorous curiosity. She took a sip of her drink, her dark eyes smouldering. "A package deal," she murmured, rolling the phrase around her mouth like a decadent chocolate. "I suppose it makes sense. You two operate on a frequency the rest of us can't quite hear. Separating you might dampen the signal."

"I concur," Tzuyu added, her analytical mask slipping just enough to reveal a flash of genuine excitement. She set her glass down with a decisive click. "It adds a layer of complexity that is... intriguing. And honestly, after tonight, I wouldn't trust anyone else to curate the experience. You have the artistic vision, Sana."

"I want you to be an active participant in what we are going to do, not just the architect behind it," my son opined. 

I blinked, surprised by his sudden interruption. It wasn't like him to steer the conversation, especially when I was in the middle of laying down the law. I turned to look at him, finding his blue eyes fixed on the three women with a calm, predatory intensity that made the air in the room feel five degrees colder.

He took a slow sip of his water, his throat working, before placing the glass down on the coffee table with a deliberate clink. "Sana is protective," he asserted, his voice smooth and unruffled, cutting through the hum of the air conditioner. "And she has every right to be. But if we are to proceed with this... arrangement, I require an active partner in the room, not just a chaperone."

The three women stared at him, momentarily silenced by the quiet authority in his tone. It was the voice of the boy who had just commanded the room without raising his volume, the one who had held me while I shattered.

"You see," he continued, his gaze shifting from Tzuyu to Mina, and finally landing on Nayeon. "The connection we share is what gives me the capacity to perform as I do. If you want the experience Sana described, then you must accept that my focus relies on her presence as an active participant. I want her there, touching, guiding, and being touched. We feed off each other. Take away the interaction, and you're left with just a mechanic, not an artist."

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop, or more accurately, the distinct sound of three women simultaneously holding their breath. My son’s words hung in the air, heavy and charged, effectively shifting the dynamic from a business transaction to a collaborative art project. He wasn't just an asset to be leased; he was the conductor, and he was demanding his first violin.

I stared at him, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with a profound sense of pride. He hadn't just defended my presence; he had defined it. He was telling them that without me, the magic didn't exist. It was a validation so potent it made my chest tight.

"I think that's a fair point," Tzuyu said finally, her voice low and thoughtful. She looked at me, her eyes stripping away the last of my reservations until I felt naked under her gaze—more naked than I had been on the floor earlier. "And, if I'm being entirely honest, a more appealing proposition. Watching is stimulating, yes, but participation..." She trailed off, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, a gesture of pure, unadulterated hunger. "Participation is immersive.”

"You've made your case, knight," Tzuyu murmured, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face as she surveyed the four of us. She stood up, the movement fluid and graceful despite the lingering exhaustion in her limbs. "And I, for one, am ready to see where this... collaborative art... leads us. But that is a discussion for tomorrow. My brain is currently fried, and my bed is calling my name."

"Seconded," Nayeon groaned, practically rolling off the sofa in her exaggerated fatigue. She stretched her arms high above her head, her joints popping audibly, before padding towards the hallway on bare feet. "I love you all dearly, but if I don't get horizontal within the next five minutes, I might actually die. Sana, you know the drill—top and tail, or squeeze in the middle. Just... no more energetic gymnastics until I've had at least eight hours of REM sleep."

Mina rose with a languid stretch, her movements like a cat uncurling in a sunbeam. She offered us a mysterious, feline smile as she followed Nayeon. "Sweet dreams, you two. Try not to dream too... loudly."

The hallway to Nayeon’s bedroom was dimly lit, guided only by the soft amber glow of recessed floor lights. We walked in a loose procession, the silence broken only by the rustle of our robes and the soft thud of bare feet on the hardwood. My son’s hand was warm and steady at the small of my back, a constant anchor that kept me grounded as the adrenaline of the night finally began to ebb, leaving a heavy, pleasant lassitude in its wake.

Nayeon’s bedroom was as bold and vibrant as her personality—a sprawling space dominated by a massive king-sized bed piled high with velvet cushions and a faux-fur throw. The walls were painted a deep, moody plum, and the air smelled faintly of the vanilla candle she always kept burning on her nightstand.

It was a sanctuary, and right now, it looked like the most inviting place on earth.

"Left or right?" Nayeon mumbled, already halfway to burrowing beneath the duvet, her blonde hair fanning out across the dark pillowcases like spilled ink. "But don't you dare kick me. I have an early photoshoot tomorrow, and if I have bruises on my shins, Sana, I'm sending you the bill."

"Centre," I decided without hesitation, patting the expanse of mattress between us. "I need to be in the middle. It's... a strategic necessity."

The girls didn't argue, merely shifting with sleepy murmurs to create a space. Mina curled up on the edge, her breathing already slowing into the deep, rhythmic pattern of sleep, while Tzuyu lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression that suggested she was still running calculations in her head. I climbed in, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the lingering heat in my skin, and immediately felt the bed dip as my son slid in beside me.

He moved with a fluid grace, settling onto his back and immediately opening his arm in a silent invitation. I didn't hesitate; I shuffled closer, moulding myself against his side with a familiarity that felt as natural as breathing. I rested my head on his chest, right over the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart, and draped one leg across his thighs, tangling our limbs together beneath the heavy duvet.

"Is this comfortable?" he murmured, the vibration of his deep voice resonating through my cheek.

"Perfect," I sighed, closing my eyes as the lingering tension in my muscles finally began to unspool. The scent of him—clean skin, soap, and that underlying musk that was uniquely his—was the most soothing lullaby I could imagine. "You're my personal radiator now, sweetheart. Don't you dare go cold on me."

"No danger of that," he replied softly, his breath ruffling the hair on the top of my head. His arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me impossibly closer until there was no space left between us, creating a warm, protected bubble amidst the soft tangle of limbs and expensive bedding. "I believe I generate sufficient thermal energy to keep you satisfied."

I let out a quiet, sleepy giggle, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. "You certainly do. You’re like a furnace. A very handsome, surprisingly strong furnace."

Around us, the sounds of the apartment began to settle. Nayeon’s breathing had already deepened into a soft, rhythmic snuffle, completely dead to the world. I could hear Mina shifting restlessly for a moment on the far edge before she too stilled, and even Tzuyu seemed to have abandoned her calculations, her breathing slow and steady in the dim light.

"I never want to move from this spot," I whispered into the darkness, the confession spilling out of me unbidden. The safety of his embrace, combined with the physical and emotional exhaustion of the night, had stripped away my last defences. "Tonight was... a lot. But being here, like this... it feels right."

"Sleep now, Sana," he murmured, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, a benediction in the dark. "The world will still be there when we wake up."

That sweet angelic voice of hers just pulls you in as you sit closer to the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the sinful performance. The slow pull of the zipper behind her, then the dress off her shoulders. When it finally falls into a crumpled mess by her feet, you’re salivating. Her figure looks great, and she looks a thousand times better when just in her bra and panties. It’s a sight to remember, you’re sure it’s going to be carved into your mind, but you want to keep a souvenir for the night. 

When you pick up your phone, Sana seems to get your idea and starts posing for you. First, she leans a little closer to you and brings her arms together to accentuate her cleavage. Then more pictures where a strap of her bra is off her shoulders, then both straps. Just as you’re waiting for the inevitable complete removal of her bra, she turns away from you and flaunts her ass. She’s bending over, looking back at the camera with a seductive smile. By this point, you’re in a trance and mindlessly clicking away to gather as many photos as you can. 

She sits on the bed next to you and leans in close. When you turn to face her, you find yourself face to face with her, nose almost touching hers, and the first thing you notice is how attractive her eyes truly are, followed by how good she smells. You barely realise when her hand is on your thigh and dangerously close to your bulge. 

“Do you want to spend all the time taking pictures? Your friend only paid for an hour.” She then whispers directly into your ear, “I can take good care of you if you want.”

You’re nodding like an idiot, confused and overwhelmed by the circumstances you’re in, and you find your pants being unbuttoned. Autopilot has taken over your system, you’re letting Sana have her way with you. It does seem that she knows what she’s doing given that she’s smiling while kneeling between your spread legs and your erect cock in front of her. Her lips press against your cock, her tongue teases your tip. You’re tense on the bed, nervous yet excited for the moment when she opens her mouth to take you in. 

The sheer hotness of her mouth all over you, the pure filth of her lips at the base of your cock in contrast with that happy glimmer in her eyes are all too much to take in. As much as you’d like to keep your eyes on Sana, you just can’t. You’re left gripping the bed sheets and tossing your head back to gather your composure. 

It’s almost a new experience for you. The expert mouth bobbing up and down your cock works in perfect tandem with her hands twisting the base of your length. Time feels foreign to you. You don’t know how much time has truly passed. All you know is that you’re about to cum and trying to hold it back is just going to end up with torn bed sheets. 

A quick peek down at Sana makes it tenfold worse. She’s so damn hot, especially when she’s making eye contact with you with those seductive eyes of hers. It’s like she knows how close you are. How could she not? You’re moaning without restraint. You can’t help it of course, but it seems like the louder you are, the more intense Sana gets with the blowjob.

The pleasure suddenly diminishes. “Where do you want to cum, dear?”

You struggle to choose, especially when she’s still jerking you off rapidly. “Your face. Please!”

“You might want to record this.” She winks before going back down on you.

Your hand is shaky, you can barely hold your phone up in place. You aren’t completely sure if it’s even capturing all the action. What you’re sure of is that Sana is blowing you faster than earlier and that you’re about to cum and that your other hand is guiding her head, almost pushing her deeper onto yourself as if that’s possible. Then your grip loosens, your self control vanishes. 

Without warning, you cum inside her mouth. She reacts quickly to the first shot, pulling your cock out and aiming the rest of your shots on her face. The pleasure is immeasurable. It’s been too long since you’ve relieved yourself and the volume of your load surprises her as her face is painted white.

“Fuck Sana!” 

You remain seated, exhausted, and appreciate the sight of Sana painted with your cum. She cleans herself up with her fingers and licks them clean while you catch your breath before she dresses back up. God how can a woman look so sexy putting clothes back on. 

“It’s a pity we don’t have more time together. It seems like you need it dear.” Right before she exits the room, you hear a faint “Call me again.”

As you stood between Sana and Miyeon, the warmth of their bodies enveloped you like a soft blanket. Your heart raced, not just from desire, but from the disbelief that this moment was unfolding in front of you. It felt surreal, and you took a breath, trying to savor every detail—the scent of their skin, the way their eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement.

You reached for Miyeon’s pussy with your left hand and for Sana’s with your right hand, feeling their soft skin under your fingertips. Miyeon gasped softly, and a thrill ran through you. On your right, Sana’s gaze was fixed on you, her lips curling into a playful smile.

"Are you ready for this?" she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

In that instant, time seemed to slow. You could see the way Miyeon’s cheeks flushed, the uncertainty mingling with curiosity on her face. You could almost hear her heartbeat syncing with yours, a rhythm of anticipation.

With a gentle tug, you pulled Sana closer, the space between you filled with electric tension. Their moans became a melody, echoing around the room, and each sound deepened your excitement. Could it be possible that this was really happening? You had dreamed of this moment, and yet here they were, both beautiful and willing.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Sana whispered, her breath warm against your skin. You obliged, surrendering to the sensations. The world faded away, leaving just the three of you in a cocoon of desire.

As you felt the soft touch of their hands exploring, you couldn’t help but think back to the times you’d felt invisible, rejected. Now, you were here, cherished by two radiant beings, and it was everything you had ever wanted. You were determined to make this moment last, to savor it fully.

They both clung to your body as their bodies trembled with orgasm at almost the same time. You helped them both sit on the edge of the bed and stood in front of them, automatically making your erect penis a spectacle for Sana and Miyeon.

"Well, since Miss Sana is here, how about Miss Sana teach Miss Miyeon about sucking? Hehehe."

"Do you want to learn oral sex, Miyeon-ah?"

"N..no, sis. Sounds disgusting."

"Why disgusted, miss? Mine doesn't smell."

"Enough, she doesn't want it. Enough, don't ask anymore."

"Yeah, okay then Miss Sana will suck mine alright, it's a bit itchy hehe."

"Seriously…yes-yes." Sana squatted down and began sucking your cock. You closed your eyes and moaned in pleasure. Miyeon's face flushed slightly at her sister's shameless behavior toward you. However, Miyeon began to wonder inwardly as she saw her sister seem to be enjoying it so well. Many questions began to arise in Miyeon's mind. Why was Sis Sana so willing to lick your thing? Did it taste good? Wasn't that area damp and smelly? But Sis Sana didn't seem to be bothered at all? Miyeon squatted down next to Sana. Sana placed your penis in her palm and shifted slightly. Using sign language, Sana offered it to Miyeon. Miyeon bit her lower lip and nodded shyly.

Curiosity overwhelming her, Miyeon decided to try it herself. Now, Sana was on the right side of your cock, and Miyeon was on the left. You yourself didn't realize Miyeon had moved closer to where you stand because you closed your eyes to enjoy Sana's tongue gently stroking your shaft. Your penis was still nestled in Sana's palm. Sana moved her tongue from the base of your rod to the right until it reached the tip. Sana nodded to Miyeon. Miyeon immediately knew that Sana wanted her to do the same. Miyeon placed her tongue on the base of your cock, then moved to the left, sweeping the shaft all the way to the tip. You were still oblivious to it, as Miyeon always did her "practice" after Sana. However, you quickly came to when you felt two warm objects caressing you. You glanced down, both surprised and delighted, when Miyeon finally agreed to touch your penis with her tongue.

However, you pretended not to know, afraid that she would be reluctant if you caught her. Sana then taught Miyeon by practicing directly. She began kissing, licking, nibbling, and even sucking. Miyeon was surprised to see Sana easily take your entire length into her mouth without gagging. How could such a large thing fit inside her sister's mouth whole?

"Ohh" you sighed. When Miyeon tried, she choked and coughed, tears welling in her eyes. Her throat hadn't yet adjusted to the foreign object clogging her mouth. Sana, on the other hand, was used to it. Finally, Miyeon was able to swallow the whole length, although upon removal, she immediately started coughing again. As Sana had expected, Miyeon learned quickly and did it very naturally. She became excited and busily bobbed her head back and forth, jerking your penis in her mouth.

Sana was now sucking on your cock. You were experiencing truly extraordinary pleasure. Sana asked to switch positions with Miyeon. Miyeon was a little hesitant to face your balls head on. It looked so dirty and wrinkled, disgusting, but a strange, tickling sensation was felt when Miyeon pressed her tongue against it. Then, instinct took over, Miyeon sucked both testicles and licked the entire scrotum with great pleasure. Then Miyeon and Sana moved to the right and left sides of your penis again. Like twins, their movements were perfectly synchronized, enjoying your manhood. You felt kisses, bites, and licks on the right and left sides of your shaft simultaneously. As Sana and Miyeon kissed your thing, their lips met and they kissed, trapping the tip of your cock between Sana and Miyeon's lips. When Sana felt your penis throbbing, she immediately took it into her mouth.

After collecting your sperm in her mouth, Sana opened her mouth to Miyeon, just to show her off. But, unexpectedly, Miyeon slipped her tongue into Sana's mouth to steal your sperm. You opened your eyes and smiled as you watched Sana and Miyeon vying for your sperm. However, you were confused. Usually, your cock could last longer, but was it because two people were ganging up on you that you came so quickly? You thought, staring at your already limp penis. You left the room, leaving the pair still passionately kissing.

"Man, you're so useless, you came so fast", Sana mocked as you re-entered the room.

"Being ganged up on by two beautiful girls, there's no way I can last long hehe."

"Ah, so useless..."

"Don't worry, my beautiful ladies, I have a solution, here." You showed a bottle containing hundreds of capsules.

"That...can’t...be..."

"Yes, Miss Sana, this is the medicine that can help in times like this."

"Are you still keeping it? It's expired! What would happen to your thing later or what would happen to you!?"

"Don't worry, Miss. I just bought this yesterday, I was planning to use it for Miss Miyeon."

"Oh! Miyeon, don't use that, hey she's not ready yet!" Sana looked at Miyeon, who immediately lowered her head. You downed one capsule of the aphrodisiac. You lay sprawled in the middle of the bed. "Come on, Miss Miyeon, sit on my face." Already accustomed to it, Miyeon sat on your face. Not wanting to be idle, Sana sat on your chest with her back to Miyeon. Sana then took care of your half-awake cock. The effects of the medicine hadn't yet begun. When your penis was fully erect, you ordered Sana and Miyeon to get on all fours. Two equally smooth, white, and round buttocks were before you. There were two 'hotels' with two rooms each for your rod to visit. You then pumped Miyeon and shook Sana's vagina with your two fingers. After making Miyeon orgasm, you now visited Sana's 'hotel'. Once Sana orgasmed, your cock immediately checked in at Miyeon's anus, after which it was Sana's turn to be pounded. With the aphrodisiac, you became tireless. Sana and Miyeon had orgasmed more than three times, their vaginas were already wet with their own vaginal fluids. Sana and Miyeon obeyed all of your orders because you did have a 'stick' to control them. 3 hours passed, the effect of your aphrodisiac wore off, you had to complete your desire. Miyeon's uterus still had to be sterile, so you ejaculated your semen into Sana's womb again. Increasing numbers of your sperm tried to fertilize Sana's egg. You immediately took the medicine again for a second round, but this time Sana took control, wanting to teach Miyeon comfortable positions for women to control the game. Miyeon's training ended, and you planted your seed inside Sana again. The clock struck 12:37 AM, and the three of them were equally exhausted, so they decided to fall asleep.

================================================

He smirked, sweat beading at his temple. “Only because you made it impossible to say no.”

Her thighs trembled, climax building again, guilt a scream under the skin. She kissed him hard to silence it, to forget, to pretend this was just a dream that wouldn’t end in betrayal.

Outside, someone knocked once. “Ten minutes.”

Their eyes locked. Neither moved.

“Finish,” she said against his mouth. “Finish inside me.”

Way back in their college dorm.

Jihyo leaned against the wall outside Room 212, hoodie unzipped just enough to show the satin camisole underneath. Her lips were glossed. She’d spent twenty minutes picking the right bra—soft pink, no padding, just lace.

She was ready to tell him.

Inside, she could hear his laugh. Low. Warm. Then Jeongyeon’s giggle followed.

Jihyo knocked anyway.

The door swung open, and there he was—shirtless, towel around his neck, that familiar damp curl at the front of his hair. “Hey,” he said, smiling wide. “Perfect timing.”

Her heart fluttered. “Can we talk?”

But before he could answer, Jeongyeon appeared behind him in his hoodie, hair tousled like she’d just woken up. “Oh—Jihyo. Sup, babe?” She leaned casually against the frame, brushing her lips over his shoulder.

Jihyo’s stomach turned. “Did I interrupt something?”

Jeongyeon laughed, oblivious or pretending. “We were just watching that dumb movie you hate. The one with the dinosaur-cop.”

He looked between them. Hesitated.

Say something, Jihyo thought. Say this isn’t what it looks like.

But he didn’t.

She forced a smile. “Right. I’ll catch you later.”

“Wait,” he called after her, but she was already halfway down the hall, teeth clenched, arms stiff at her sides.

That night, she cried into her pillow while Jeongyeon snored three feet away.

She never told her how badly she wanted him. Never told her they kissed two weeks earlier under the bleachers, his hands on her hips, breath hot against her neck.

Jeongyeon moved fast. Always had. Always would.

Years later, standing in that bridal suite with his cock still inside her, Jihyo wondered if she was finally taking something back.

The mirror behind him fogged with their breath.

Jihyo’s legs trembled where they clung around his hips, her heels digging into the curve of his ass as he drove into her slow, deliberate, punishing. Each thrust felt like a question she wasn’t ready to answer.

She bit down on his shoulder, stifling a moan. Guilt burned at the edge of every sensation—but she clung to it, swallowed it, used it.

He’d resisted. At first.

Three nights ago, she’d walked into the rehearsal dinner late, hair wet from rain, dress clinging to her body like a second skin. The neckline dipped low enough to tempt, the slit high enough to threaten. She caught his eye from across the room—his jaw tensed before he turned away.

But she didn’t.

She cornered him at the bar, brushing past to reach for the bourbon, letting her hand graze his. Her voice had dropped. “You still remember how I drink it?”

He nodded once. “Neat. Always.”

Their hands lingered longer than necessary.

Later that night, she found him smoking outside the hotel. She joined him without asking, barefoot on the concrete, holding her heels in one hand.

“You nervous?” she asked.

He exhaled smoke. “It’s not that simple.”

She stepped closer, close enough that her perfume—vanilla, white musk—wrapped around him. “Neither am I.”

He didn’t kiss her then. Not yet. But his hand brushed her hip as she passed him on the way back inside. She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to.

And this morning—minutes before the ceremony—she knocked once on his dressing room door, walked in without waiting.

He froze when he saw her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

She dropped to her knees without a word.

Now, her body writhed beneath him, dress still bunched at her waist, curls matted to her forehead, eyes wet with something beyond lust.

“Tell me this wasn’t your plan,” he rasped, voice ragged as he thrust harder, hands tight on her waist.

Her lips curved into a bitter smile. “I waited years for you. I’m done playing fair.”

The headboard knocked against the wall. Outside, the organ music grew louder.

He leaned down, kissed her hard, groaning as her walls fluttered around him.

“Then finish what you started,” she whispered, nails clawing his back. “Give me what she never will have.”

He pressed her down onto the antique chaise, the velvet warm under her bare back. Her thighs parted wide, flushed and trembling, as he knelt between them—tie hanging loose, shirt halfway unbuttoned, skin gleaming.

Jihyo gasped as he lined up, his thick tip teasing the slick seam of her pussy. She was soaked. Aching. Guilt curled in her gut, but her hips rose anyway, inviting him in.

“You sure?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

Her hand slid down, fingers wrapping around his base—thick, dark, impossibly heavy. Her voice barely rose above breath: “You think I wore no panties for the symbolism?”

He sank in slow.

Her head snapped back. A choked cry slipped from her throat as he stretched her open—inch by inch, deeper than any man before. Her nails dug into the cushions, body arching as he bottomed out, hips flush against hers.

“Oh fuck—” she hissed, blinking hard, overwhelmed by how deep he filled her. “You feel… you feel like you’re splitting me in half.”

He paused, buried to the base, watching her chest rise in shallow bursts. Her breasts—full, heavy, nipples dark and stiff—bounced with every shaky breath.

Then he started to move.

Long, slow thrusts that dragged every inch along her soaked inner walls. She clung to him, legs trembling, heart pounding against her ribs.

Wet sounds filled the room—flesh meeting flesh, her arousal squelching around his cock. Each thrust hit deeper. Dirtier. Her body buckled under the weight of it, of him.

He gritted his teeth. “Goddamn, Jihyo. You’re fucking gripping me.”

Her eyes rolled back. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not on her wedding day.”

He kissed her then—hard, messy, their tongues tangling, moans swallowed between breaths.

The door was locked. The world was gone. Just the hot slide of his cock pumping inside her, thick and deep, sending aftershocks through her core.

She felt it building. Not just the orgasm—but the collapse. Of years of longing. Of restraint. Of pretending.

He growled against her ear. “You wanted this. You took it.”

And she did. She wrapped her legs around him, pulled him closer, clenched tight as he fucked her raw.

Outside, the organ music swelled.

Inside, he thrust harder—grunting now, rhythm breaking, cock swelling inside her.

It was that moment—the one she would replay for years—that brought her straight into Chapter 1: His hips surged forward. Her lips met his, kissing him through the pleasure as he filled her again and again.

And everything else—every promise, every vow—shattered.

Jihyo straddled him, knees spread wide on the plush ottoman, riding him like time wasn’t bleeding out all around them.

“F-fuck,” he grunted, eyes locked on the way her breasts bounced, the way her lips parted in that desperate, wet whimper.

She leaned in, hair sticking to her temple, cheek grazing his as she whispered, “I need you to cum. Now. Fill me before someone knocks again.”

Her hips worked faster—messy, frantic, pussy sucking his cock with every bounce. He gripped her waist, knuckles white, but she took control.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” she moaned, voice shaking. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me.”

He barely breathed. “You didn’t just let me. You begged for it.”

Her nails raked down his chest. “Don’t remind me,” she hissed. “You’re not mine. You never were.”

The words stabbed. So she kissed him to cover it up.

His hands slid to her ass, helping her move, slamming her down harder. Her thighs trembled, slick with sweat and need. She felt him swell inside her, that thick pulse building.

“I’m gonna—” he choked.

“Do it,” she whispered against his mouth, eyes wide and glassy. “Cum in me. Ruin me for her.”

He gasped, held her down, and spilled inside—hot, thick, flooding her deep.

Her back arched with the aftershock, pussy clenching around every twitch of his cock. She came with a broken cry, forehead pressed to his, full body quaking.

Then silence.

Outside, voices laughed. A knock followed. “Jihyo? Five minutes!”

Her eyes shot open. “Shit.”

She scrambled off him, cum dripping between her thighs, legs shaky as she reached for tissues. She dropped to her knees, still panting, and took his softening cock into her mouth.

He flinched. “Jihyo—”

“Shut up,” she mumbled around his length. “I’m not letting her smell me on you.”

She licked him clean—slow, thorough, her tongue tracing every inch, her lips trembling with something too close to emotion.

When she sat back, wiping her mouth, he stared down at her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She fixed her dress, pulling the straps up over her shoulders. “Didn’t I?”

He reached out, touched her wrist gently. “This doesn’t have to be the last time.”

Her laugh was soft, bitter. “It already was.”

“Jihyo—”

She leaned in, kissed him once, lips dry. “You were never mine. I just forgot for a few minutes.”

Footsteps passed the door. She smoothed her hair, grabbed the bouquet from the floor, and glanced in the mirror.

Perfect. No one would know.

Except him. And her.

She would have a 100% struggle to take it. It would take a ton of prep., like her needing to train for it by gradually using bigger dildos.

There would be a lot of screaming and crying. She is essentially being torn apart, so there is likely to be a lot of waiting for her to adjust. "Slow!!! Wait, wait, too much!!!" "Fuck! You are splitting me in half!!

Lube a lot of it! like copious amounts of it. Anyone with experience will know how important this is.

Once it is completely inside, you can see her stomach bulging. Looking at that, Mina gets turned on and rubs her hand over her stomach. "Look at this!! I can feel you so fucking deep in my stomach."

It would take her a little longer than usual to orgasm, because initially, it is going to be a lot of pain. Once she gets used to it, she will be cumming like there is no tomorrow. It would be hitting places that she didn't even know existed.

Her pussy would be gripping the fuck out of that cock and not letting it go.

"Mina, I'm gonna cum!"

"Outside!!," Mina manages to say in between her screams.

In short, his eyes couldn’t look away from her, that gaze that said everything in just one second... that gaze full of desire and longing to do the forbidden with his current girlfriend’s daughter.

Saturday, 6:42 a.m.

The house still smelled of freshly brewed coffee and the detergent her mother used for the kitchen tiles. Outside, the sun was just peeking through, filtering through the blinds and drawing golden lines on the floor. Yuna slowly opened her eyes, feeling the weight of the duvet on her bare legs. She hadn’t put anything on to sleep: just an old cotton T-shirt that rode up to her waist when she moved, exposing her round, taut hips, and the start of her ass—the one she trained so hard at the gym, the one Juno stared at so much when he thought she wasn’t looking.

She stretched slowly. The first rays of sunlight touched her thighs, highlighting the softness of her skin, barely tanned, without a single mark. She touched her stomach, ran her fingers down to the edge of the T-shirt, feeling the warmth of her own body. And she smiled.

6:55 a.m.

She went downstairs barefoot. There was no one on the ground floor yet. Her mother had left the night before on a business trip. Two days. Just the two of them in the house.

She knew Juno got up early. He was one of those men who got up to run, to exercise, to shower, and then sit down to read the newspaper with his shirt open and his feet bare. She liked his ritual. She liked interrupting it even more.

She stopped on the last step. Juno was in the kitchen, his back turned, pouring himself coffee.

Yuna didn’t say anything. She just leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms under her chest. The T-shirt tightened slightly, and she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She could feel the cool air of the kitchen raising goosebumps on her nipples, how the cotton brushed her skin with every breath.

Juno turned slowly. The coffee cup in his hand, his eyes still sleepy, but when he saw her, he blinked. He stood still. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her.

She took a step closer. Then another. Her bare feet made barely any noise on the cold tiles. She stopped in front of him, close enough for him to smell her freshly awakened skin, but far enough that he couldn’t touch her yet.

—Did you run? —she asked, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Juno nodded. He didn’t take his eyes off her mouth.

—And did you sweat a lot? —she continued, tilting her head slightly.

He swallowed. The movement was visible in his throat. She took another step closer, close enough for her nipples to almost brush his chest, but without touching him. Her hands rested on the kitchen counter, on either side of her hips. She circled him without touching him.

—You smell like exercise —she whispered, moving closer to his neck without touching it. And she smelled him. Slowly. From the hollow of his collarbone to the line of his jaw. She stopped near his ear. —I like it.

Juno closed his eyes. He clenched his fists on the counter. He didn’t move.

She took a step back. She turned, showing him her back. The T-shirt had ridden up slightly, just to where her buttocks began to curve. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She slowly bent down to open the fridge, arching her back, spreading her legs slightly. The cotton tightened over her buttocks, outlining every line, every muscle, every curve.

She stayed like that a few seconds longer than necessary. She knew he was watching her. She could feel it. The silence was thick, charged with something they didn’t dare name yet.

When she stood up, she had a glass of juice in her hand. She turned to him. Juno was still in the same place, but now his eyes were darker, wetter. He looked at her with a mix of desire and guilt, as if he had already crossed a line in his mind.

She approached him again. This time, she stopped right in front of him. She leaned forward slightly, letting the edge of her T-shirt brush his skin. Her nipples, hard and visible under the fabric, almost brushed his chest.

—Do you want to try my juice? —she asked, without parting her lips from a smile.

Juno didn’t answer. But his breathing had become heavier. She raised the glass, took a sip without taking her eyes off him. Then she licked her lower lip slowly.

—It’s very sweet —she whispered. —Do you want some?

He nodded slightly. She moved closer. She put the glass to his lips. He drank. One sip. Two. She didn’t take her hand away. Her fingers brushed his knuckles. Juno trembled slightly.

—Do you like it? —she asked.

—Yes —he replied, for the first time. His voice came out hoarse, broken.

She smiled. She took a step back. Then, without saying anything more, she turned and left the kitchen. She went upstairs slowly, letting her hips move with each step, knowing he was watching her. Knowing he wouldn’t move for a while.

She went into her room. She closed the door quietly. She leaned against it. She took a deep breath. She smiled.

Yuna spread her legs wider, sliding her fingers between the wet folds of her vagina. The heat was intense, sticky, delicious. Her clitoris was already swollen, sensitive, and every touch of her fingers sent a wave of pleasure through her spine. She pressed her lips together to keep from moaning too loudly, even though she knew Juno was downstairs, just one floor away, and the idea that he might hear her excited her even more.

She imagined him coming in without knocking, with that dark look she had seen before, the look of a man who no longer asks himself if he should, but when.

—Do you like this, you little slut? —she whispered in her mind, imitating his hoarse voice—. Do you like me seeing you like this, open, wet, thinking about my cock?

Yuna writhed against the sheet, arching her back. With one hand she continued rubbing her clitoris in circular motions, faster and faster, more precise. With the other, she slid two fingers inside her vagina, which received the entry with a small wet click. She squeezed inside, feeling her own warmth, her own tension. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted to fill herself up.

She took her fingers out, brought them to her mouth, and licked them slowly, savoring her own taste. Then she brought them back down, this time further back, to the edge of her anus, which pulsed with every beat of her heart. She brushed it with the tip of her finger, barely, and her whole body tensed. She closed her eyes, biting her lip.

—Do you want me to touch you here too, you whore? —she imagined Juno saying, while she nodded, begging him to do it.

She pressed a little harder, feeling how her anus relaxed slightly, how desire clouded her judgment. She didn’t want softness. She wanted him to use her. To see her for what she was: a bitch in heat, who masturbated thinking about her mother’s boyfriend.

She went back to her vagina, now wetter than before. She inserted three fingers, stretching, feeling how it opened for them. The pleasure was dense, deep, as if every thrust of her fingers brought her closer to the edge. But she didn’t want to finish yet. She wanted to prolong it. She wanted desire to burn her.

She got on her knees on the bed, resting her chest on the pillow, her ass in the air. With one hand she reached her clitoris from behind, with the other she supported herself on the bed. She imagined Juno was behind her, holding her buttocks, spreading them, looking at her whole body.

—Looking at you like this… it drives me crazy —she imagined him saying—. I want to break you, Yuna. I want to fill you with cum while you call my name like the little slut you are.

She moaned, louder this time. Her fingers moved faster, more precisely. She felt how her vagina contracted, how her anus pulsed with every imaginary thrust. She squeezed harder, faster, until pleasure took her by storm, like a wave that drowned her. She grabbed her buttocks with one hand, squeezing them, while her orgasm ran through her whole body, leaving her trembling, gasping, with her fingers still inside, soaking wet.

She fell on her side, her legs trembling, her chest rising and falling hard. Her skin was covered in sweat, her T-shirt stuck to her body, her mouth slightly open.

Yuna finished dressing herself up, putting on a beautiful dress that barely covered her ass, and went outside, where a huge car with your crew of friends inside was already parked waiting for her. "Good night," you greeted Yuna in the driver's seat as she fit her tall, slim body inside a packed car with 6 guys inside.

"So, where are we going tonight?" Yuna asked. "A very nice spot, but we have to keep it a secret," the guy in the front passenger's seat answered her. You kept trying not to distract yourself as you drove the crew to the destination, but Yuna was right in your mirror's sight in the backseat of the car, making it very difficult for you to concentrate.

Yuna smiled as the guy looked at her. "Ohhhh a secret, I'm ready for you guys to give me a great surprise," she said. "You can count on it," you told her as the two dudes on the backseat alongside Yuna started sharing kisses with her, you reaching her hands on her legs while they touched her dress close to her tits.

The touching got more and more intense. "Looks like I'm getting in some trouble tonight," Yuna said as the guys' wandering hands kept touching her hot body in every spot.

Yuna opened her legs in the backseat of the car, unveiling her white panties under her dress. As soon as she did, the guy in the front passenger's seat pulled them to the side, only to be surprised by the massive bush she spotted in her pubic area.

"Damn, that's quite a big bush," you said as you looked in the mirror. "Well, I usually keep it fully shaved down there but for tonight I wanted to be a little wider and keep it untouched," Yuna said. It was the first time you had seen her with a bushy vagina but you enjoyed seeing it, indeed, it felt very different and gave her a more mature aura.

You guys hadn't even arrived at your destination, but Yuna was so tempting you were already running your hands all over her pussy. In the middle of her sexy bush, her throbbing red lips appeared, her rubbing her clit and teasing the crew while you filmed them. Soon, the guys were digging their hands deep inside her cunt, leading her to smile brightly.

Yuna pulled her panties down, handing them to you as the guys kept massaging her spot. You smiled as you sniffed her underwear, the amazing scent of her pussy impregnating your nostrils and getting you even hornier. Yuna tried to grab her panties back, but you pushed them out of her reach. "They are mine now, you don't need those for tonight," you told her as both of you laughed.

The guys in the backseat pulled Yuna's dress to the side as well, unveiling her perky and delicious tits in the process. Yuna moaned and smiled as both guys to her side dove to suck her boobs like hungry babies while she rubbed her clit. And that was just the start.

"Are you guys gonna fuck all my holes tonight, pass me around and share me?" Yuna asked. "Yes, and we are gonna cum in all of them too," you answered. You always loved that Yuna always asked the right questions, she had no fear of openly talking about the way she wanted to get used, fucked, pounded, truly a girl that was horny 24/7/365.

"Fuck, ahhhhh, you're getting me so wet," Yuna moaned as you reached to finger her clit and prepare herself for a special night. You guys finally reached the destination, climbing upstairs to the secret house you had rented for tonight. "That's it, it's going to happen, I'm gonna get passed around until I tap out," Yuna said, already heavily anticipating the special night.

"Hi boys," Yuna greeted your crew as she was the last to arrive in the living room. "Hey hey hey," you greeted her back as the guys were chilling in the room with their t-shirts already out and their muscles in full display. As Yuna was still mesmerized, you surprised her from behind, grabbing her tits as the guys one by one got out of their chairs and started surrounding her.

You kiss Yuna's neck as hands run all over her. "That's so fucking sexy," she says. "Fuck, I wanna taste all of you," she continues as you pick up her phone and film her getting groped from all sides by your crew, her tits popping out of her dress already. But Yuna is unfazed, as she moves in your direction and rips your belt off in one go, quickly getting her hands on her most coveted prize.

Yuna grabs your already hard cock and starts massaging it. The other guys quickly get jealous, answering by ripping her dress apart. Yuna smiles as she gets stripped naked and her dress tossed to the floor. One guy sucks her tits while another runs his hand over her belly.

Yuna quickly gets on her knees as she gets surrounded by cocks from all sides. You're the first to serve her, putting your meat right in her horny mouth and filming as she sucks it. Rotating in a clockwise direction, Yuna goes through each guy's cock, sucking them to perfection as she puts their shafts deeper and deeper in her throat.

"Give me all those cocks please," Yuna commands as she reaches the final guy in the circle, jerking his cock off hard and deepthroating him. She keeps moving from guy to guy. When your turn arrives again, you grab her head and fuck her pretty face, shoving it in the direction of your crotch and enjoying the gagging sounds that come out of her mouth while your balls hit her chin.

"Choke on this dick, bitch," you tell Yuna as your meat bulges under her cheeks. She tries to push back but you quickly show her who's in control, taking another round of fast thrusts into her mouth as you grab Yuna right by her long hair and make her gag on your cock.

"It's free use night, guys," you tell your crew as Yuna moves to please the other dudes. She bobs her head on the next cock, but just like with you, quickly gets her face pounded once again. She looks at you with her big eyes wide open and jerks your cock off while choking on the dude's dick, finishing with a gagging deepthroat.

Yuna gets hornier and hornier, making insane moves with her mouth as she gives head to all your crew, stuffing her mouth full of cock and deepthroating them one by one while giving her attention to at least two more cocks as she jerks them off. "Pound that fucking mouth," you tell your friends, who follow your instructions perfectly, grabbing Yuna's head and thrusting their huge cocks right inside it as soon as she starts sucking them.

Yuna remains surrounded by cocks for many minutes, enjoying every second of it as she gets to taste multiple flavors of man meat. Rapidly moving her head from one cock to another, Yuna quickly takes control of the situation, you guys struggling to keep pace with her fast-moving mouth that jumps from cock to cock with ease.

You try to tame Yuna with another facefuck, to no avail as she handles it with ease and slowly rises to be the star of the show. Your cocks are now at her mercy, Yuna now choking on every dick that gets in her sight, handling the plowings to her face like a champion.

"YEAHHHHH!" Yuna enthusiastically screams as you get behind her and bend her over. She knows what's coming and can't wait for the real fun to start. "Are you ready to fuck me? Stuff all my fucking holes?" Yuna asks, grabbing two other cocks to keep sucking while you shove yours in her pussy. "AHHHH," she moans as your large meat penetrates her cunt, making her go even crazier and bounce her mouth from cock to cock on the opposite side.

"OH FUCK," Yuna screams as you start giving her pussy the first thrusts while she gets spit-roasted, the guy with the cock in her mouth always fucking her face. "OH FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD," she keeps moaning as your cock gets deeper inside her.

You detach Yuna from the other guys cocks, grabbing her slim waist and pushing her supermodel body in your direction. "FUCK YEAH USE ME, AHHHHH, AHHHH" she screams as she gets plowed from behind in a standing doggy position and grope her cute tits. The other guys don't stand idle, worshipping her hot body with kisses and licks as you stretch out Yuna's tight, bushy pussy.

"OH GOD I LOVE YOUR COCK, OH YEAH, FUCK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yuna moans as she rolls her eyes with you pounding her harder and harder from behind, her slim body jiggling at each thrust you give deep in her cunt. After a few more poundings, you drop her to keep sucking the other guys' cocks, watching as she goes full slutty and deepthroats them one by one.

"Oh yeah, give me all of them," Yuna begs as she's encircled again and you guys slap your cocks in her pretty face and then plow it one by one. She sticks her tongue out, giving each guy a no-hands blowjob while always keeping her hands occupied jerking other cocks off. "Yes baby, such a good girl," you say as Yuna endlessly bobs her head on those big cocks, covering them full of her nasty saliva.

"Come on, bitch, suck those cocks," you tell Yuna, giving her cute big pale ass a spank as it lines behind you. She immediately follows your orders, giving the guy in front of her a soul-sucking blowjob, you pick up her phone to film it as she stays glued to the guy's balls. "Oh damn it," the dude says as his massive cock just disappears inside Yuna's sexy mouth.

"That's right," you tell Yuna as another guy spanks her ass while she bends over once again to lick your shaft. With her pussy ripe for the taking, the other guys line up behind her, ready to use her in heavy rotation.

"It's free use time," you tell the guys as Yuna chokes on your cock. "HMMMM, HMMM, HMMMM," she moans as her mouth gets stuffed full of your meat and her cunt gets stuffed too. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, AHHHHH," she continues to moan as one dude grabs her waist and plows her from behind. Yuna gets caught by surprise with his hard thrusts but quickly searches for your cock to put it back in her mouth and for two more on her side to jerk it off.

Yuna gets used nonstop, as each guy fucks her harder than the previous one, while your cock holds a monopoly of her mouth. "DON'T STOP, I WANNA FUCK ALL OF YOU" she says, tapping her clit as she gets her bushy pussy destroyed by your crew of monster cocks, you taking advantage to film her getting fucked hard from behind as your friends' cocks rotate in her holes and her tits bounce like crazy.

"Give me more," Yuna begs as she sticks her tongue out to suck more cock, you filming all of it from her phone as she's got one cock in her pussy, one in her mouth, and two in her hands. You quickly move back into the circle, as your friends use Yuna like a bunch of horny animals and you don't want to be left behind on that, muffling her moans as she gets put on all fours by one of the guys and begs him to use her. "OH YEAH USE MY PUSSY," she says as she drops her head to the floor.

You get back behind Yuna, watching as one of your friends stretches her needy cunt out and makes her moan hard, capturing a perfect shot of her big ass. "Who wants to go next?" the guy fucking her announces, suddenly picking up the pace and delivering a final handful of hard thrusts in her pussy that make her scream as his cock hits Yuna's cervix. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she moans, as you prepare to take your turn in her next.

You give Yuna's sexy ass a tap before firmly gripping her from behind and taking her pussy at full speed. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH YEAH," she moans as you turn her into your free-use fleshlight, clapping her fat cheeks hard before lifting her body, carry-fucking her in front of your friends. "MORE, MORE, MORE, TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT," Yuna says as you push your cock upwards and make it bulge under her belly while one of your friends reaches to pinch her tits as her body gets drilled up in the air.

"Serve those cocks," you say as you put Yuna back on the ground and spank her butt once again. She quickly crawls towards your friend's throbbing rods, vigorously sucking them off before landing on your cock and having her face plowed hard as soon as it hits her mouth.

One of your friends grabs Yuna's body and shoves her on the couch, her quickly getting on all fours for another round of fucking and spit-roasting. "Yeah give me more," she begs as you move the couch into a better position to allow your crew to attack Yuna's body at every possible angle. The guy answers spanking her butt and shoving more cock in her mouth, but Yuna now is in full control. "Shit, that bitch still tight after all that fucking," the guy taking her pussy says.

"Yes, I'm your dirty slut, fuck me until I tap out," Yuna begs and moans as another guy takes his turn in her pussy. As soon as she senses a new cock coming in, Yuna moves her large hips and spins on it like the good whore she is, her cheeks jiggling at each thrust her pussy gets, Yuna showing that she can take on a whole crew of guys and come out on top.

You take another turn on Yuna's pussy, grabbing her hair as you start pumping her cunt hard. "Yeah, yeah, take that cock you stupid whore," you dirty-talk her. "OH YEAH," she screams as the hair-pulling gets stronger and stronger, loud noises coming out of her fat cheeks every time you hit deep in her pussy. "I fucking love it," she announces as you keep messing with her hair. "Yeehaw," you say as you intensely pull her hair and another guy chokes her. "Take that fucking dick," you tell Yuna as you only push harder and harder in her pussy. "YES," she happily obliges, getting destroyed like a fleshlight.

The next guy in line rotates Yuna's body, lifting one of her legs as he fucks her while you line up in front of her for Yuna to taste your cock. "Hmmm delicious," she says, sticking her tongue out and grabbing her jiggly tits while her bushy cunt keeps getting drilled. "Keep using that bitch," you tell the guys. "Yes, use me, shove all those fucking cocks in my mouth," Yuna rapidly answers.

You quickly oblige and stuff Yuna's mouth full of cock. On the other side, the guys keep drilling her bushy pussy nonstop, groaning hard as her tight hole pushes them to the edge. "Oh shit," one guy says, having to hold himself not to blow his load early in her pussy. The couch free use spit-roasting fun continues, each guy taking his turn on Yuna's young pussy and sexy mouth. "Hell yeah, what a slut," one of them says.

Yuna rolls her eyes as she's turned into a full-time cocksleeve. One guy pulls out, and the next one is quickly in, her mouth and pussy are used to the fullest as she now dives to suck the guy's balls. Each fuck is faster and harder than the one before, but she holds her own amidst a horny horde of monster cocks passing her around.

"Let me ride this big cock," Yuna tells you, who quickly sits on the couch as she sits on your cock. "Look at me doing all that work, fuck" Yuna says as your cock instantly disappears in her pussy. Yuna rides you like a demon. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she moans, her bounces being fast and well-paced, all that while grabbing a pair of cocks to jerk off and one to suck.

"OH FUCK YEAH," Yuna moans as your big cock impales her cunt all the way deep. "She's loving this," one of the guys comments just as you spank her ass. They are mesmerized by the way she bounces on your cock and surprised you haven't blown your load in her pussy yet, given how insanely she moves her hips up and down that big fat pole.

Yuna increases the pace of her ride, putting your cock at her mercy. "HMMM YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans, her large hips moving fast as her pussy grinds all over your dick, you are forced to flip her around not to cum early.

But Yuna wants more, quickly opening her legs as she gets herself on the couch in a missionary position, letting you keep penetrating her pussy "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she keeps moaning as her cunt gets plowed while another dude feeds her your cock for her to suck. "Stroke that fucking cock," you tell her.

Yuna does more than that, diving under the guy to lick his balls and asshole. "Oh fuck," he moans as Yuna rims the guy to the fullest. Seeing it, you quickly have an idea.

"You like licking assholes, how about we fuck your asshole, slut?" you ask Yuna. "Oh yes, please, fuck my asshole," she begs and gets it as you insert your cock in her tight backdoor.

You show no mercy towards Yuna, pushing your cock as deep as you can in her butthole from the start. "Oh my God," she moans as you attack her anal hole. "Come on guys, let's take turns fucking her ass," you command as another cock replaces yours in Yuna's ass and claps his balls against her cheeks. "Oh yeah, I need all those cocks one by one in my ass, use that fucking hole" she begs.

The crew keeps taking turns assfucking Yuna on the couch, much to her enjoyment. "Oh it feels so good," she softly moans, reaching for the other guys' cocks as the next guy in line drills her ass the hardest. "OH FUCKING YES, USE THAT ASS, YEAH, YEAH" she begs as the guy starts choking her.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, DESTROY MY FUCKING ASS," Yuna begs as her butthole gets drilled almost to the point she starts losing her breath. As soon as the anal fucking is done, Yuna spreads her ass for your crew, showing you the big gape you left in her bum. "I want the next cock," she pleads as a tattoed dude stuffs her anus next and fingers her cunt, teasing her ass putting his cock in and out of it, before giving Yuna a rough drilling that makes her body bounce while pinching her clit.

Yuna laughs as the cock rotation in her ass keeps going. "I'm your fucktoy," she says as you come in again, her long legs now over the head as the couch quickly turns into her favorite place to fuck. "Yes, please, use me, keep using my ass" she begs, fisting her long fingers in her pussy while she gets assfucked. "Say it again, you look so sexy saying those dirty words," you tell her. "USE MY ASS, PLEASE, USE ME LIKE A FUCKING FUCKTOY," Yuna answers and soon tells the guys what she wants next.

"I want two cocks inside me," Yuna begs. She gets up and sucks your cock as one dude lets her sit on his and starts drilling Yuna's cunt from down low. "AH, AH, AH, AH, OH FUCK, OH FUCK" she rapidly moans. You soon come in and shove your cock back in her asshole. "YES I WANT TWO COCKS, PLEASE," she demands.

Yuna feels happier than ever as she's got a pair of cocks stuffing her needy holes. "OH MY GOD," she moans as you and your friend pump her in perfect sync. "OH YES, FILL UP MY FUCKING HOLES, THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD" she commands as you keep pushing your cock deeper and deeper into her asshole. "Oh yeah I feel so stretched out, my tight holes getting shaped by those big cocks," she moans.

"Fuck my ass deep," Yuna begs as your full length is buried in her asshole and you pound it balls deep. Your friend does the same with her pussy. "PUSH THOSE BIG COCKS IN ME, I WANT MORE," she says, reaching to suck another guy and go airtight.

Yuna spreads her cheeks as you let your friends take turns stuffing her ass. The only sound you can hear now from her is Yuna choking on another cock as she gets stuffed airtight. "Take it, bitch," you say as you watch her get plowed from behind. "AHHHHH, FUCKKKK, IT'S SO FUCKING BIG" Yuna screams, getting caught by surprise as your friend attacks deep in her ass.

Yuna gets mounted as the airtight double stuffing continues, and more guys rotate in. "I'm ready for the next fucking cock," Yuna says as the next guy fucking her ass chokes her and pushes her body in his direction hard. "I'M YOUR FREE USE WHORE, I LOVE WHEN YOU SHARE ME," Yuna screams just as her pale ass gets spanked and the guy fucking her from behind grabs her hair.

"Oh my God, five cocks at once," Yuna says as she bobs her head on your cock. She isn't lying, leaving only one of the guys out of the fun as she strokes two guys, you stuff her in her mouth and two more dudes penetrate her pussy and asshole. The dude fucking her ass pushes her face in the direction of your cock, forcing her to deepthroat it, while the guy immediately to your side hits her pretty slutty face with his big fat cock.

"YEAH, YEAH, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ALL THOSE COCKS," Yuna screams as she keeps getting used to all directions. You grab her head and fuck her face once again, "Shit, girl, you're amazing," you praise her as the airtight DP keeps going on, Yuna rolling her eyes as she gets turned into a full-time cocksleeve.

"Holy shit," the guys fucking her from behind groan as Yuna's ass gets smashed between their muscular bodies. "So good, so good," Yuna says as she guys plowing her pussy thrusts from down low. "FUCK IT'S SO BIG," Yuns screams as she gets surprised by your cock hitting her ass and then grabbing her by the waist and clapping her cheeks.

Yuna flips around as she sits her ass on your cock, ready to get double stuffed in reverse this time. "Oh yeah, right in my ass," she says as she impales herself on your dick, opening her legs as you finger her cunt while she's anally drilled. "YES I LOVE BOUNCING ON YOUR COCK, BEING YOUR LITTLE TOY, YOUR SLUTTY FUCKDOLL," she says as the other guy's hands are all over her sexy body now, two guys groping her tits as she bounces on your cock.

One by one, the guys spread her legs and enter Yuna's wide-open pussy, sandwiching her as she gets pounded balls deep in both holes. You let another guy provide the anchor role as Yuna spins on his cock before fully sitting her ass on it. "I want more," Yuna says as you give her what she wants, stuffing your cock deep in her bushy pussy in a mating press position, her cunt queefing as soon as you penetrate her.

"AH, AH, AH, OH YES, RIGHT THERE," Yuna moans as your cock hits deep in her pussy. "That's so fucking hot," she says as she gets sandwiched between two monster rods pumping her hard. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER DONE," Yuna says as you stretch her pussy out. You let the guys have fun, Yuna in a completely submissive position to their cocks entering her. "Is that what you want, baby?" one of them asks. "Yeah, that's what I fucking want," she answers.

The double drilling of Yuna continues as she gets passed around like a hot potato, challenging every guy to fuck her. Once she's done, you pick Yuna up and stick your cock back in her pussy, with another guy coming in as you two perform a standing DP on her. Yuna moans hard and gives you a naughty stare as she gets drilled up in the air. "I'M YOUR FUCKDOLL, DADDY, DON'T STOP USING ME," she says.

Yuna rises to the challenge, bouncing on both cocks despite being suspended in the air. "I love the way you fuck my pussy and my ass at the same fucking time," she says. You open her legs and drill her cunt, before letting Yuna bounce on the other guy's ass and get back to being double stuffing in the couch, her pussy queefing more than ever.

"AH YEAH, FUCK, UHHHH," Yuna moans as her cunt gets drilled fast. "Give it to her," you tell the guys as her pussy gets drilled while the guy on the bottom fucking her ass chokes her. You come in and let her suck your balls and rim your asshole. "HMMMM, HMMM," she moans as you sit on her face and she keeps getting sandwiched, her body jiggling as the guys give her cunt very hard thrusts.

Yuna takes one more round of a traditional airtight cowgirl stuffing, with you taking her in the ass as she gets all her holes filled. You pound her asshole hard while the guy fucking her face makes her gag on his dick. She looks very wasted at this point, after over 40 minutes of getting turned into a cocksleeve

"I want you to cum in me," Yuna begs as you guys start going for solo rounds with her. You are the first as you start pumping her bushy pussy, groaning as her walls squeeze your cock. "I want cum in all three of my fucking holes, in my pussy, in my ass, in my mouth," she begs as you keep pounding her while she fingers her clit.

Yuna spreads her cunt and plays with her clit as you fuck her. "Fuck my pussy until you cum in it," she begs, giving you a naughty smile. "Give me all that fucking cum," she says. "Are you ready for it?" you ask her back. "YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME." she enthusiastically answers.

"AHHHHH FUCK," you groan as Yuna's tight walls squeeze your cock and make you fill her pussy to the brim. You pull out just in time to decorate her bush with cum as well, her spreading her lips to show your semen oozing out. "I'm ready boys, I want more," she says, rubbing her clit and fingering her cunt in anticipation;

The next guy comes in and puts his cock in her asshole. "AH YES, GIVE ME YOUR COCK, GIVE ME YOUR CUM," Yuna begs as he gives her slow pumps into her tight anus. "Oh I can feel it," she says as he bursts inside her asshole not even 10 seconds in, her anus now dripping full of cum as she grabs a bit to taste it.

"Round fucking three," Yuna says as the next guy comes in, already jerking his cock off and ready to ejaculate in her pussy, stroking his dick inside her and giving another load to her cunt. "Oh I love feeling it dripping out," she says, spreading her lips again to catch the cum.

"Three more to go," Yuna says as the next guy shoots his load in her mouth, licking her chops. Another load in her face comes next. "All of it, give me all of it," she begs, sucking and licking the guy's cock after he finishes in her face. "Give it to me, oh yeah," she says as the final guy groans and gives her face a third load, her licking his tip afterward. You then come in and give her midriff a final load, covering her navel full of cum. "Oh wow, so much cum, seven loads for this fucktoy," Yuna says as you guys turn her into a cum dump.

"I want to remember this night forever, come here guys," Yuna says as she walks in the direction of the mirror, grabbing her phone. "Hope you recorded a lot while the other guys were fucking me," she tells you. She lets everybody come into the frame, taking a picture of her with the crew, her body completely sweaty and full of fluids, especially cum. If the night ended right there, it would already be an amazing night, but you had one final idea.

"Yuna, can you get on your knees, I have one final surprise for you," you tell her.

"Of course, Daddy, what is the surprise?" Yuna asks, getting her face right on the sight of your crew's cocks. You are the first to move, hitting her with a surprise yellow jet of piss right in her face. The other guys follow your lead, turning Yuna into a massive urinal as her body drips full of pee, her trying to get as much as possible into her mouth, gargling and swallowing all the yellow liquid that comes into her sight.

"Wow, that was amazing, turning me into a cum dump and a piss dump," Yuna says as your crew leaves, only you and her still at the house, her looking at you with her typical fuck me eyes. And you can tell she's not going back home.

Two men had just walked in, and they commanded attention without even trying. Both were tall, easily over six feet, with powerful builds evident even through their impeccably tailored suits. One wore charcoal grey, the other navy blue, both clearly expensive designer pieces. But what really caught Yeji's eye was their skin. Rich, dark brown that seemed to glow in the ambient lighting.

Black men. Successful, confident, gorgeous Black men.

Yeji felt her pussy clench immediately, a rush of heat flooding through her body. She'd always been attracted to Black men. Something about their confidence, their masculinity, the taboo element of it in conservative Korean society. But she'd never actually been with one, had only fantasized about it while touching herself late at night.

"Earth to Yeji," Yuna waved a hand in front of her face, then followed her gaze to the bar. "Oh. I see what's got your attention."

The other girls turned to look, and Ryujin let out a low whistle. "Damn. They're hot."

"And clearly wealthy," Lia added, noting their watches and the way the bartender immediately attended to them with deference.

Yeji couldn't stop staring. Both men were devastatingly handsome. One had a shaved head and strong jaw, the other had short cropped hair and the kind of smile that probably got him anything he wanted. They looked like they were in their early thirties, successful businessmen or entrepreneurs, radiating the kind of confidence that came from money and power.

As if sensing her attention, the one with the shaved head turned and made direct eye contact with Yeji across the restaurant. His gaze traveled deliberately down her body—lingering on her bare shoulders, her pushed-up breasts, her exposed legs—before meeting her eyes again with a knowing smirk.

Yeji felt like she'd been struck by lightning. Her nipples hardened immediately under her dress, and she could feel herself getting wet. The way he looked at her—like he knew exactly what she was thinking, like he could see right through to her dirtiest fantasies—made her breath catch.

She held his gaze for a long moment, not looking away, letting him see her interest. Then she deliberately licked her lips and smiled before turning back to her friends.

"Holy shit," Chaeryeong breathed. "Did you just eye-fuck that guy in the middle of a restaurant?"

"Maybe," Yeji said innocently, taking another sip of champagne. But her heart was racing, her body humming with arousal and possibility.

"You should go talk to them," Yuna suggested, always the boldest of the group.

"I'm thinking about it," Yeji admitted, sneaking another glance at the bar. Both men were watching her now, having a quiet conversation while their eyes kept drifting back to her table.

"Bullshit," Ryujin challenged with a grin. "You're too chicken. You always talk about wanting to hook up with a Black guy, but you've never actually done it."

The challenge in Ryujin's voice sparked something competitive in Yeji. "Want to bet?" she asked, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"Bet what?" Lia asked, leaning forward with interest.

Yeji's mind was racing, her pussy throbbing, her whole body screaming at her to do something bold and crazy. She thought about her fantasies, the porn she watched late at night, the way she imagined being dominated by big Black cocks, split open and used.

"I bet," Yeji said slowly, her eyes glittering with determination and arousal, "that by the end of the night, I'll have both of their cocks inside me at the same time."

The table went silent. All four of her friends stared at her with various expressions of shock, disbelief, and excitement.

"Both of them?" Yuna repeated. "At the same time? You mean like... double penetration?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Yeji confirmed, her voice steady despite her racing pulse. "One in my pussy, one in my ass. Both of those big Black cocks filling me up completely."

"Jesus Christ, Yeji," Chaeryeong breathed, her cheeks flushing. "That's... that's hardcore."

"You've never even done anal before," Lia pointed out. "And you're going to jump straight to DP with two guys you just saw?"

"If they're as big as I think they are," Yeji said, her voice dropping to something husky and filthy, "then yes. I want to know what it feels like to be completely stretched and filled. To be used by two superior men who know how to fuck properly."

Ryujin was grinning now, always appreciating Yeji's bold side. "Okay, I'll take that bet. What are the stakes?"

"If I win," Yeji said, "you all have to admit that I'm the baddest bitch in the group. And you're buying my drinks for the next month."

"And if you lose?" Yuna asked.

"I won't lose," Yeji said with absolute confidence. She could feel their eyes on her from across the restaurant, could feel the sexual tension building like static electricity. "I'm going to go over there right now and make it happen."

"You need proof though," Chaeryeong insisted. "We're not just taking your word for it."

"I'll send you a picture," Yeji promised, already standing up and smoothing down her dress. "Of both their cocks inside me. Will that be sufficient evidence?"

Her friends were speechless, just nodding as Yeji grabbed her clutch and started walking toward the bar. She could feel all their eyes on her back, along with several other patrons who noticed the stunning blonde in the white dress making her way across the restaurant with clear purpose.

As she approached, both men turned to face her fully, and up close they were even more impressive. The one with the shaved head was probably 6'4", powerfully built with broad shoulders straining against his suit jacket. The other was slightly shorter but no less imposing, with a charming smile and intelligent eyes.

"Hi," Yeji said, her voice confident despite her racing heart. "I'm Yeji."

"Marcus," the one with the shaved head said, his voice deep and smooth as he extended his hand. His grip was firm and warm when she shook it.

"Darius," the other introduced himself, also shaking her hand. "We noticed you from across the room. Hard not to, looking like that."

The compliment was delivered smoothly, and Yeji felt herself flush with pleasure. "Thank you. I noticed you too. You both look very... impressive."

"We do alright," Marcus said with a modest smile that didn't quite hide his confidence. "Can we buy you a drink?"

"I'd love that," Yeji said, sliding onto the barstool between them. She crossed her legs deliberately, letting her already short dress ride up higher on her thighs, and watched both men's eyes track the movement.

The bartender appeared immediately. "Another champagne for the lady," Darius ordered smoothly, then turned his attention back to Yeji. "So what brings a beautiful woman like you to a place like this? Girls' night out?"

"Something like that," Yeji confirmed, accepting the champagne flute. "My friends and I are celebrating."

"Celebrating what?" Marcus asked, leaning slightly closer. She could smell his cologne—expensive and masculine, making her head spin.

"Oh, just life," Yeji said vaguely, taking a sip. Then, deciding to be bold, she added, "And possibly celebrating a bet I'm about to win."

"A bet?" Darius asked with interest. "What kind of bet?"

Yeji looked between them both, her pussy throbbing with need and anticipation. This was it, the moment to commit fully or back out. But backing out wasn't in her nature.

"The kind," she said slowly, her voice dropping to something intimate and filthy, "that involves me, you two, and seeing what those suits are hiding underneath."

Both men went very still, their eyes darkening with understanding and interest. Marcus's hand moved to rest on her bare knee, his palm warm and large against her skin.

"That's a very interesting bet," he said, his voice lower now. "What exactly are the terms?"

"I bet my friends," Yeji said, her breath catching as Darius's hand joined Marcus's on her other knee, "that by the end of the night, I'd have both of your cocks inside me. At the same time."

The words hung in the air between them, explicit and undeniable. For a moment, neither man spoke, and Yeji worried she'd been too forward, too bold, had misread the situation.

Then Marcus leaned in close to her ear and murmured, "We have a penthouse suite upstairs. Think you can handle both of us, beautiful?"

Arousal shot through Yeji like lightning, her pussy clenching and flooding with wetness. "I know I can," she breathed.

"She's confident," Darius observed to Marcus with a grin. "I like that."

"Me too," Marcus agreed, his hand sliding slightly higher on her thigh. "Should we see if she can back it up?"

"Absolutely," Darius said, signaling the bartender. "Put everything on my room, Penthouse 3."

As Darius settled the bill, Yeji pulled out her phone and quickly texted the group chat with her friends: "Bet's on. Heading to their penthouse now. Winner winner chicken dinner 🍆🍆💦"

The responses came immediately:

Ryujin: "NO FUCKING WAY"

Yuna: "OMG YOU'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT"

Lia: "BE CAREFUL!!!"

Chaeryeong: "WE NEED PROOF REMEMBER"

Yeji grinned and typed back: "You'll get your proof. And start preparing to buy my drinks 😘"

"Ready?" Marcus asked, offering her his arm.

Yeji stood, smoothing down her dress and grabbing her clutch. "Lead the way."

Walking through the restaurant between these two powerful men, feeling every eye on them, Yeji felt a rush of exhilaration. Her friends were watching with mouths open, along with half the restaurant. She caught Ryujin's eye and winked, then let Marcus and Darius guide her toward the elevator.

The elevator ride to the penthouse level was charged with sexual tension. Marcus stood behind her, his body close enough that she could feel his heat, while Darius stood in front, his eyes traveling over her appreciatively.

"You're even more beautiful up close," Darius murmured, reaching out to trace one finger along her collarbone.

"And you're even more handsome," Yeji replied honestly, her breath hitching at his touch.

"Tell us something," Marcus said from behind her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "Have you ever been with a Black man before?"

"No," Yeji admitted, her voice breathy as she felt him press closer, felt the bulge in his pants against her back. "But I've fantasized about it. A lot."

"Fantasized about what specifically?" Darius asked, stepping closer so she was sandwiched between them.

"About big Black cocks," Yeji admitted shamelessly, too turned on to care about playing coy. "About being stretched open and filled completely. About being dominated and used by men who actually know how to fuck."

"Damn," Marcus breathed, his hands tightening on her hips. "You're going to be fun."

The elevator dinged, opening directly into a stunning penthouse suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city lights, and the space was decorated in modern luxury. Sleek furniture, a bar area, and through an open doorway, a glimpse of a massive bed.

"Make yourself comfortable," Darius invited as they entered. "Can I get you another drink?"

"Please," Yeji said, though what she really wanted was to skip the preliminaries and get to what they were all here for.

But she understood the game, the build-up, the anticipation, the slow escalation. It would make everything more intense when it finally happened.

Marcus poured them all drinks—more champagne for her, scotch for them—and they settled onto the plush couch. Yeji sat between them, very aware of the heat of their bodies on either side of her, the way their eyes kept traveling over her figure.

"So tell us, Yeji," Marcus said, his arm draped casually along the back of the couch behind her shoulders. "What does a gorgeous woman like you do when you're not making bets about taking two cocks at once?"

She laughed, the champagne and arousal making her loose and playful. "I'm a dancer. Performer. That's how I stay in shape." She gestured to her toned body.

"It shows," Darius said appreciatively. "You're absolutely perfect. Small and tight. Going to feel incredible wrapped around our cocks."

The explicit words made Yeji's pussy throb. "Speaking of which," she said boldly, "how about we stop with the small talk and you show me what you're working with?"

Both men exchanged amused glances. "Eager," Marcus observed.

"I have a bet to win," Yeji reminded them with a wicked smile. "And I always win."

"We like confident women," Darius said, standing up and offering her his hand. "Come on. Let's get more comfortable."

Yeji took his hand and let him pull her up, following as he led her toward the bedroom. Marcus followed behind them, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

"There's a bathroom through there," Marcus indicated a door off the bedroom. "If you want to... freshen up. Get ready for us."

Yeji understood what he was really saying, prepare yourself for what's about to happen. "Give me five minutes," she said.

She grabbed her clutch and headed into the luxurious bathroom, closing the door behind her. Her reflection in the mirror showed flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and a woman on the edge of having her wildest fantasy fulfilled.

She had come prepared, because deep down, she'd hoped tonight would go exactly like this. In her clutch was a small bag with essentials: lube, wet wipes, and most importantly, the outfit she'd bought specifically for an occasion like this.

The BLACKED brand sports bra and matching bottoms, black with white lettering spelling out exactly what she wanted. She'd ordered it online weeks ago, thinking it was bold and probably too much, but now it was perfect.

She stripped out of her elegant white dress, leaving her completely naked except for her heels and jewelry. Then she pulled on the sports bra, it fit perfectly, pushing up her small breasts enticingly while leaving her toned abs completely exposed. The matching bottoms sat low on her hips with "BLACKED" emblazoned across the waistband, essentially announcing her intentions.

She refreshed her makeup, reapplied her lip gloss, and checked her appearance. She looked like every Black man's fantasy—a petite, blonde, tight-bodied Asian girl literally wearing branding that said she wanted Black cock.

She used the bathroom, cleaned herself thoroughly, and applied lube generously to her ass, knowing that if she wanted to take a cock there, she needed to be prepared.

Five minutes turned into seven, but when she finally opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the bedroom, the wait was worth it.

Marcus and Darius had been talking quietly, drinks in hand, but both men went silent when they saw her. Their eyes widened, traveling over her barely-covered body, reading the branding on her outfit, and understanding clicked into place.

"Fuck," Darius breathed.

"You came prepared," Marcus observed, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face.

"I told you," Yeji said, doing a slow turn to show them the full effect—her toned back, the curve of her ass in the tight bottoms, her blonde braid falling down her shoulder. "I always win my bets."

Marcus set his drink down and stood, Darius following suit. They approached Yeji slowly, predatory, their eyes drinking in every inch of her barely-covered body.

"You wore that under your dress all night?" Darius asked, his finger tracing the "BLACKED" lettering on her waistband.

"No," Yeji admitted breathlessly. "I brought it with me. Just in case I found what I was looking for."

"And what were you looking for?" Marcus asked, his large hand cupping her face, thumb brushing over her glossy lips.

"Big Black cocks to stretch out my tight Asian holes," Yeji said bluntly, her pussy throbbing as she finally voiced her dirtiest fantasy aloud. "I want to be a slut for Black men. I want to know what it feels like to be properly fucked and filled."

"Goddamn," Darius groaned. "You're perfect. A little blonde cum-guzzler who knows what she needs."

The degrading term should have offended her, but instead it made Yeji moan softly. "Yes," she agreed. "That's what I want to be. Your cum-guzzler. Your breeding bitch. Your personal fucktoy."

"Fuck," Marcus breathed, his control visibly slipping. "Let's show her what she came here for."

Both men stepped back and began undressing. Jackets came off first, revealing powerful builds—broad shoulders, muscled chests and arms. Then shirts, showing off dark skin over defined abs and pecs. When they started on their belts, Yeji's breath caught in anticipation.

Marcus pushed his pants down first, and Yeji's eyes went wide.

His cock was massive, easily eleven inches long and proportionally thick, dark and beautiful, already semi-hard and growing harder as she stared. It hung heavy between his legs, the head darker than the shaft, and just looking at it made her pussy clench with need and nervousness.

"Oh my god," Yeji breathed.

"And there's more," Darius said with a knowing smile, pushing his own pants down.

His cock was equally impressive, maybe slightly shorter but somehow thicker, the girth intimidating and exciting all at once. Watching them both harden fully as they stroked themselves was the hottest thing Yeji had ever witnessed.

"These are real Black cocks," Marcus said, his voice taking on an edge of dominance. "Not like those little Korean dicks you're used to. Think your tight Asian holes can handle us?"

"Yes," Yeji gasped, already moving toward them. "I need to feel how big you are. Need to taste you."

"Get on your knees then," Darius commanded. "Show us what that pretty mouth can do."

Yeji dropped to her knees immediately, the plush carpet soft beneath her. At this angle, their cocks looked even more massive—thick and long and absolutely perfect. She reached out with both hands, wrapping one around each shaft, and her fingers didn't even come close to meeting.

"So big," she murmured reverently. "So thick. I've never seen cocks like this before."

"Because Asian boys don't have real cocks," Marcus said bluntly, grabbing her blonde braid and using it to pull her face closer to his dick. "They can't satisfy a slut like you. That's why you needed to find Black men to fuck you properly."

"Yes," Yeji agreed breathlessly, her tongue darting out to lick the underside of his shaft. The taste of his skin—slightly salty, masculine, forbidden—made her moan. "Korean cocks are so small. I need this. Need big Black cocks to fill me up."

She licked up and down Marcus's shaft while her hand stroked Darius, then switched, taking Darius into her mouth as far as she could manage. The stretch of her jaw was immediate and intense, and she'd only taken maybe a quarter of his length before he hit the back of her throat.

"That's it, little cum-guzzler," Darius groaned, his hand joining Marcus's in her hair. "Choke on that Black dick. Get it nice and wet."

Yeji tried to take him deeper, relaxing her throat, and managed another inch before gagging hard. Saliva dripped down his shaft and her chin, making everything messy and slick.

"She's struggling," Marcus observed with amusement. "Too big for that tight Asian throat."

"She'll learn," Darius said, pulling her back to him. "All White and Asian sluts learn to take Black cock eventually. It's what they're made for."

The raceplay talk was so taboo, so wrong, and it turned Yeji on more than anything ever had. She sucked and licked both their cocks enthusiastically, switching between them, using both hands to stroke what her mouth couldn't reach, making them slick with her spit.

"Look at you," Marcus said, his voice rough with arousal. "Little Korean slut wearing BLACKED gear, on your knees worshipping Black cocks. This is where you belong, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Yeji gasped, pulling off Darius's dick to answer. "This is exactly where I belong! I'm a slut for Black cock! I want to be your cum-guzzler, your breeding bitch, whatever you want!"

"Fuck yes," Darius groaned. "That's what we want to hear."

Yeji continued working them both, alternating between sucking and licking, trying to take them as deep as possible, coating them thoroughly in her saliva. Her jaw was already aching from the stretch, but she didn't care, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

"Stand up," Marcus commanded after several minutes. "Let's see what else you're offering."

Yeji stood on shaky legs, and immediately both men's hands were on her. Marcus pulled off her sports bra, freeing her small perky breasts, while Darius slid her bottoms down her legs.

Now she was completely naked except for her heels and jewelry, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder, her body on full display for their appreciation.

"Perfect little body," Darius murmured, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her hard nipples. "Small and tight. Going to feel incredible stretched around our cocks."

"Let's find out," Marcus said, and before Yeji could process what was happening, he'd picked her up effortlessly and tossed her onto the massive bed.

She landed with a bounce, spreading her legs instinctively, and watched as both men climbed onto the bed on either side of her. Their dark skin contrasted beautifully with her pale body and the white sheets, and their cocks stood proud and ready.

"I want to taste you first," Darius said, positioning himself between her legs. "See if this little Asian pussy is as tight as it looks."

He didn't wait for permission, just lowered his head and dragged his tongue up her slit from bottom to top. Yeji cried out at the sensation. His tongue was talented, finding her clit immediately and circling it with perfect pressure.

"Oh fuck!" she gasped, her hips lifting toward his mouth. "Oh god, that feels amazing!"

Marcus positioned himself near her head, his cock inches from her face. "Keep sucking," he instructed. "We're going to use both ends of you at once."

Yeji opened her mouth eagerly, taking Marcus's cock between her lips while Darius ate her pussy with enthusiastic skill. His tongue alternated between her clit and her entrance, occasionally dipping inside to taste her, and the dual stimulation was overwhelming.

"So wet," Darius murmured against her pussy. "Dripping like a good little slut. This cunt is ready to be stretched."

He pushed two fingers inside her while continuing to lick her clit, and Yeji moaned around Marcus's cock. Even just two fingers felt significant, they were thicker than most cocks she'd taken, and the stretch was delicious.

"Tight as fuck," Darius reported, working his fingers deeper. "We're going to ruin this pussy."

Marcus was fucking her throat now with shallow thrusts, one hand in her hair controlling her movements. "Take it deeper," he commanded. "Relax that throat and let me in."

Yeji tried her best, breathing through her nose, relaxing her muscles, and managed to take him slightly deeper before gagging again. The helpless choking sounds she made only seemed to turn him on more.

"That's it, cum-guzzler," Marcus groaned. "Choke on that Black dick. This is what you were made for."

Darius added a third finger to her pussy, stretching her wider, and Yeji whimpered at the intensity. She was so full already, and these were just fingers, how was she going to take their actual cocks?

"Now let's check this other hole," Darius said, and before Yeji could tense up, his thumb pressed against her asshole.

She gasped around Marcus's cock as Darius's thumb pushed inside her ass. Just the tip at first, testing her resistance. She'd lubed herself in the bathroom, so there was some give, and he worked it deeper slowly.

"You prepped this tight ass for us," Darius observed with appreciation. "Good girl. You really came here planning to be our anal slut."

Yeji could only moan in agreement, her body overwhelmed with sensation. Marcus's cock in her throat, Darius's fingers in her pussy and thumb in her ass, pleasure building rapidly.

"I think she's close," Darius said, feeling her pussy clenching around his fingers. "Should we let her cum?"

"Not yet," Marcus decided, pulling his cock from her mouth. "We want her desperate when we actually fuck her."

Darius withdrew his fingers and thumb, leaving Yeji empty and whimpering. She was right on the edge, so close to orgasm, and the denial made her want to cry.

"Please," she begged breathlessly. "Please let me cum!"

"Later," Marcus promised. "After you've taken both our cocks. After we've stretched your holes and filled you with cum. Then you can cum as much as you want."

"But first," Darius said with a wicked grin, "we want you to worship us properly. We're kings, and you're our little Asian slut. Show us how much you appreciate Black men."

Both men stood beside the bed, and Yeji understood immediately what they wanted. She crawled to the edge on her hands and knees, positioning herself at their feet.

"Clean us," Marcus commanded. "Use that pretty mouth to worship every inch."

Yeji started with their feet, kissing and licking like they were precious, working her way up their powerful legs. She kissed up Marcus's thighs, nuzzling against his heavy balls, taking each one into her mouth and sucking gently.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand stroking her blonde hair. "Such an obedient little cum-guzzler."

She moved to Darius, giving him the same treatment. Worshipping his legs, his balls, kissing and licking with genuine reverence. Then she worked her way up their bodies—abs, chest, neck—covering them in kisses.

"Turn around," Darius instructed Marcus, and when he did, Yeji understood.

She was going to rim them. Going to tongue their asses like the submissive slut she was.

"Yes," she breathed, arousal overwhelming any hesitation. "I want to. Want to worship every part of you."

She spread Marcus's ass cheeks with her hands and leaned in, dragging her tongue over his hole. He groaned at the sensation, and emboldened, Yeji did it again—licking and kissing, working her tongue against his entrance.

"Fuck yes," Marcus groaned. "Eat my ass, little slut. Show me how much you love Black men."

Yeji pushed her tongue inside, rimming him enthusiastically while her hand reached around to stroke his cock. The taboo nature of it—this submissive act, servicing him so completely—had her pussy throbbing desperately.

After several minutes, she switched to Darius, giving him the same treatment. Her tongue worked against his hole, pushing inside, licking and sucking while he groaned above her.

"Such a good breeding bitch," Darius praised. "You know how to treat superior men."

Part Three: The Stretch

After several minutes of Yeji worshipping both their asses with her tongue, Marcus pulled away and turned to face her. His cock was rock hard, throbbing with need, and the look in his eyes was pure predatory hunger.

"On the bed," he commanded. "On your back. Time to see if that tight Asian cunt can actually take Black cock."

Yeji scrambled onto the bed eagerly, lying back against the pillows and spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was dripping, swollen and ready, and she'd never wanted anything more in her life than to feel these massive cocks stretching her open.

Marcus climbed between her legs, and the size difference was striking. His powerful dark body dwarfing her petite pale frame, his cock looking impossibly huge as he rubbed it through her wet folds.

"Please," Yeji begged, her hips lifting toward him. "Please fuck me. I need to feel your big Black cock inside me."

"Beg properly," Marcus instructed, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance but not pushing in. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm a slut for Black cock," Yeji gasped desperately. "I'm your cum-guzzler, your breeding bitch, your Asian whore. Please fuck me with your superior Black cock! I need it so badly!"

"That's better," Marcus said with satisfaction, and pushed forward.

The stretch was immediate and intense. Even just the head felt enormous, forcing her pussy to open wider than it ever had, and Yeji cried out at the sensation—part pain, part pleasure, all overwhelming.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, you're so big!" she gasped, her hands clutching at his muscled arms.

"And we're just getting started," Marcus growled, pushing steadily deeper. "Your tight little Korean cunt is going to learn to take real cock."

Inch by thick inch, he worked himself inside her. Yeji was making constant noise, whimpers and moans and cries as she was filled beyond anything she'd imagined. Her pussy stretched impossibly around his girth, and she could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he claimed her.

"Halfway," Marcus announced, and Yeji couldn't believe there was more. She already felt completely stuffed, like there was no room left, but he kept pushing.

Darius moved to her head, his cock level with her mouth. "Keep that pretty mouth busy while he breaks in your pussy," he instructed, and Yeji opened obediently.

She sucked Darius's cock while Marcus continued working himself deeper into her pussy, and the dual penetration—even with just one hole actually filled—was overwhelming. Being used from both ends, her body nothing but a receptacle for their pleasure.

"All the way in," Marcus finally groaned, his balls pressed against her ass. "Fuck, you're tight. Tightest Asian pussy I've ever fucked."

He didn't give her time to adjust, just pulled back and slammed forward hard. Yeji screamed around Darius's cock, the sensation of being so completely filled and then stretched again making her eyes roll back.

Marcus set a brutal pace immediately. Deep, powerful strokes that had the entire bed shaking. Each thrust drove Yeji up the mattress, pushing Darius's cock deeper into her throat, and she was helpless between them.

"Look at her taking it," Darius said with satisfaction, his hands in her blonde hair. "Little Asian cum-guzzler getting her tight cunt stretched by Black cock. This is what you were made for, isn't it slut?"

Yeji could only moan in agreement, her body being used thoroughly. Marcus's cock was hitting spots inside her she didn't even know existed, pleasure building rapidly despite the intensity of the stretch.

"She's clenching," Marcus grunted. "Little breeding bitch is going to cum already."

"Not yet," Darius said, pulling his cock from her mouth. "We want her desperate when we actually DP her."

Marcus slowed his thrusts but didn't stop, keeping Yeji right on the edge of orgasm without letting her tip over. It was exquisite torture, being so full, so stretched, so close but denied.

"Please," Yeji sobbed. "Please let me cum!"

"After we've both used your pussy," Marcus decided. "Want to feel how you compare."

He pulled out, and Yeji whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Her pussy was left gaping slightly, stretched and throbbing, and she could see her arousal coating his dark shaft.

"My turn," Darius said, positioning himself between her legs. "Let's see if you can take my thickness, little slut."

If anything, Darius was even thicker than Marcus, and when he pushed inside, Yeji screamed at the renewed stretch. Her pussy had already been opened up, but his girth was still overwhelming, forcing her even wider.

"Holy shit," Darius groaned as he bottomed out. "She's gripping me like a vice. This cunt was made for Black cock."

He fucked her with the same brutal intensity Marcus had used, deep, hard strokes that made Yeji scream with each thrust. Marcus moved to her mouth, and now she was tasting herself on his cock, sucking him clean while Darius pounded her pussy relentlessly.

"You love it, don't you?" Darius demanded, his hands gripping her slim hips hard enough to bruise. "Love being a fucktoy for Black men. Your tight Asian body was designed to take our superior cocks."

"Yes!" Yeji gasped when Marcus pulled back to let her answer. "I love it! Love being stretched by big Black cocks! I'm your fucktoy, your breeding bitch, whatever you want!"

"We want you airtight," Marcus said bluntly. "Both our cocks inside you at once, filling both your holes, making you our complete slut."

The words made Yeji's pussy clench hard around Darius's pistoning cock. "Yes," she moaned. "Please, I want that! I want to feel both of you inside me!"

"She's ready," Darius said, feeling how desperately her body was responding. "Let's give this cum-guzzler what she came here for."

They positioned her carefully. Darius lying on his back, pulling Yeji on top of him in reverse cowgirl so her back was to his chest. His cock slid back into her pussy easily now, and Yeji moaned at the fullness.

"Lean back against me," Darius instructed, his hands guiding her. "Spread your legs wide and let Marcus have access to that tight ass."

Yeji obeyed, letting Darius support her weight while keeping his cock buried in her pussy. Marcus grabbed the lube from the nightstand and coated his cock generously, then moved into position between her spread legs.

"Ready to lose your anal virginity to Black cock?" Marcus asked, pressing the head of his lubed cock against her asshole.

"Yes," Yeji breathed, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness. "Take my ass. I want both of you inside me."

Marcus pushed forward slowly, and even with the lube and prep, the stretch was intense. Yeji's ass resisted at first, too tight to accommodate him, but he was patient and insistent.

"Relax," he coached. "Breathe and push out. Let me in, breeding bitch."

Yeji tried to relax her muscles, and suddenly the head popped inside. She cried out at the sensation. So much fuller than anything she'd experienced, both holes now stretched around thick cock.

"That's it," Marcus praised, working himself deeper slowly. "Taking it so well. Your tight Asian ass was made for Black cock too."

The dual penetration was overwhelming. She could feel both cocks inside her separated by just a thin wall of flesh, could feel them rubbing against each other through her body. Every tiny movement sent shockwaves of sensation through her.

"Oh my god," Yeji sobbed when Marcus was fully seated in her ass. "So full. I'm so fucking full!"

"And now we're going to fuck you," Darius said from beneath her. "Going to use both your holes until you can't remember your own name."

They started moving, slowly at first, finding a rhythm, alternating their thrusts so when one pushed in the other pulled back. The sensation was indescribable, being constantly filled, constantly stretched, her body nothing but a vessel for their pleasure.

"Faster," Yeji begged, too far gone to care about anything except the overwhelming pleasure. "Please fuck me harder!"

They obliged, their pace increasing, and soon they were both pounding into her with force. The wet sounds of their fucking filled the room. The slap of skin on skin, the squelch of her holes being used, Yeji's constant stream of moans and cries.

"Look at you taking both our cocks," Marcus grunted, his hands on her hips helping to move her. "Little Korean cum-guzzler getting double penetrated by Black men. This is what you were made for."

"Yes!" Yeji screamed, her whole body shaking between them. "I was made for this! Made to be a slut for Black cock! Use me, breed me, make me your whore!"

The degrading words only made them fuck her harder. Yeji could feel an orgasm building, different from anything she'd experienced before, deeper and more intense, threatening to consume her entirely.

"I'm gonna cum!" she warned desperately. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum so hard!"

"Do it," Darius commanded. "Cum on our Black cocks like the breeding bitch you are!"

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming. Yeji screamed as pleasure crashed through her in waves, her holes clenching rhythmically around both cocks, her whole body convulsing between them. She squirted, liquid gushing around Darius's cock and making an even bigger mess.

They didn't stop fucking her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she was sobbing incoherently, completely overwhelmed by sensation.

"Fuck, she's milking us," Marcus groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Gonna make me cum."

"Me too," Darius grunted from beneath her. "Where do you want it, slut?"

"Inside!" Yeji gasped desperately. "Cum inside me! Fill me with your Black seed! Breed me!"

"Fuck yes," Marcus groaned, and buried himself deep in her ass as his orgasm hit. She could feel his cock pulsing, feel the warmth of his cum flooding her bowels, marking her internally.

The sensation triggered Darius, who thrust up hard and came with a roar, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself in her pussy. So much cum, hot and thick, filling her completely.

For a long moment, they all stayed connected. Both cocks buried deep, pulsing with their releases, Yeji sandwiched between them and completely claimed.

Then slowly, carefully, they pulled out. The sensation of being emptied was almost as intense as being filled, and Yeji whimpered as both cocks slid free of her used holes.

Cum immediately started leaking from both of Yeji's used holes. Thick white seed dripping from her pussy and ass, coating her thighs and the sheets beneath her. She lay there trembling and completely wrecked, her body still processing the intensity of what had just happened.

"Damn, look at this," Marcus said, his voice slipping into a more relaxed tone, the polished businessman facade dropping. "We really stretched out this tight little Asian bitch. Both holes leakin' our nut."

"Shorty took that dick like a champ though," Darius added, his own speech pattern shifting as he relaxed. "Never seen a Asian girl handle two big-ass Black dicks like that on her first time. You a natural freak, ain't you baby girl?"

Yeji could only nod weakly, still trying to catch her breath. Her body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together. Sore in the best way, thoroughly used, completely satisfied.

"Let me see," Marcus said, spreading her ass cheeks to watch his cum leak out. "Goddamn, that ass is gapin'. We really tore that shit up."

"Pussy too," Darius observed, his fingers spreading her pussy lips to show how stretched she was. "This tight little Korean cunt ain't never gonna be the same. Ruined for them little Asian dicks."

"Good," Yeji managed to gasp. "I only want Black cock from now on. You ruined me for anyone else."

"Fuck yeah we did," Marcus said with satisfaction. "Turned you into a proper BBC slut. Look at you, cum leakin' out both holes, pussy all stretched out, that pretty blonde hair all messy. You a whole breeding bitch now."

"Speaking of which," Darius said, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. "You said you needed proof for your girls, right? For that bet?"

Yeji's eyes widened as she remembered. "Yes! Oh my god, I almost forgot!"

"We gotchu," Marcus said with a grin. "Darius, get them pics. Show her friends what a real slut looks like."

Darius positioned his phone, taking photos of Yeji's wrecked body. Close-ups of cum leaking from both her holes, her gaping ass and stretched pussy, her flushed face and messy hair. The visual evidence was undeniable and absolutely filthy.

"Nah, we need better than that," Marcus decided. "Need to show them both dicks was really inside her at the same time."

"You right," Darius agreed. "Yo Yeji, you good for another round? We gon' DP you again and get video proof this time."

Yeji's body was sore and exhausted, but the thought of more—of having video evidence to show her friends, of being used again by these incredible men—had her pussy clenching despite the soreness.

"Yes," she breathed. "I can take more. Use me again."

"That's what the fuck I'm talkin' about," Marcus said approvingly. "This bitch really bout it. C'mere then, let's give your girls a show."

They positioned her the same way, Darius on his back with Yeji reverse cowgirl on top, his cock sliding back into her cum-filled pussy. Marcus grabbed his phone and started recording as he positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her already-used asshole.

"Say hi to your friends," Marcus instructed, turning the camera to capture Yeji's face.

Yeji looked directly at the camera, her face flushed and her eyes glazed with lust. "Hi girls," she said breathlessly. "About to win our bet. Watch me take both these big Black cocks."

"Tell 'em how it feels," Darius coached from beneath her, starting to thrust slowly.

"It feels amazing," Yeji moaned as Marcus pushed back into her ass, both cocks filling her again. "They're so big, stretching me so much. I've never felt anything like this. Korean guys could never—ahhhh!"

Marcus had thrust deep, cutting off her words. He kept the camera angled to capture both their dark cocks disappearing into her pale body, the visual contrast striking and explicit.

"Look at this tight Asian pussy and ass takin' all this Black dick," Marcus narrated for the video. "Shorty came in here talkin' big game, and she really backin' it up. Ain't you, slut?"

"Yes!" Yeji cried as they established their rhythm again, both pounding into her. "I'm your slut! Your cum-guzzler! Your breeding bitch!"

"Damn right," Darius grunted, his hands gripping her hips and helping bounce her on both their cocks. "And we ain't done with you yet. Gon' fill both these holes again, make sure you really leakin' when you go back to your friends."

They fucked her harder than before, no longer taking it easy on her now that she'd proven she could handle it. The sounds were obscene, wet slapping, their grunts and her screams, the bed creaking dangerously.

"This what you wanted, huh?" Marcus demanded, still recording. "Wanted to know what it's like to be a BBC whore? To get blacked properly?"

"Yes!" Yeji screamed. "This is exactly what I wanted! To be ruined by Black men! To be stretched and used and bred!"

"Keep talkin' that shit," Darius encouraged. "Tell us what you are."

"I'm a slut for Black cock!" Yeji obliged, too far gone to be embarrassed. "I'm a cum-guzzler who needs big Black dicks to satisfy me! Korean men are inferior! I only want BBC from now on! I'm a breeding bitch for Black men!"

"Fuck yeah you are," Marcus groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he approached another orgasm. "Gon' nut in this tight ass again. You want this Black seed, breeding bitch?"

"Yes! Breed me! Fill my ass with your cum!" Yeji begged desperately.

"Me too," Darius added. "Bout to flood this pussy again. You want that? Want both holes full of Black cum?"

"Please!" Yeji sobbed, her own orgasm building. "Please breed both my holes! Mark me as yours!"

They came almost simultaneously, Marcus burying deep in her ass and flooding her bowels with another massive load, while Darius thrust up hard and emptied himself in her pussy. The sensation triggered Yeji's own orgasm, and she screamed as pleasure overwhelmed her again.

Marcus kept recording through all their orgasms, capturing Yeji's face twisted in ecstasy, her body shaking between them, the moment when they both pulled out and cum immediately gushed from her holes.

"There's your proof," Marcus said, stopping the recording. "Ain't no way your friends gon' doubt you took both these dicks now."

Yeji collapsed onto the bed, completely spent. Cum was leaking steadily from both her holes, creating wet spots on the expensive sheets. Her body was covered in sweat, her makeup smeared, her blonde braid coming undone. She looked thoroughly destroyed and absolutely satisfied.

"Send me those," Yeji requested breathlessly. "The photos and video. I need to collect on my bet."

"Aight, what's your number?" Darius asked, grabbing his own phone.

Yeji gave him her number with a shaky voice, and within moments her phone was buzzing with incoming messages, multiple photos and a video file showing her getting double penetrated by two massive Black cocks.

With trembling fingers, she opened the group chat with her friends and selected the most explicit photo, the one showing both holes filled with dark cock, her face visible and clearly in ecstasy.

She typed: "Told you I'd win 😏 Video coming too if you don't believe the pic"

Then she attached the video and hit send.

Her phone immediately exploded with responses:

Ryujin: "HOLY FUCKING SHIT"

Yuna: "YEJI WHAT THE FUCK"

Lia: "OH MY GOD IS THAT BOTH OF THEM??"

Chaeryeong: "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID IT"

Ryujin: "Okay you win, you're officially the baddest bitch"

Yuna: "How are you even walking??"

Lia: "They're HUGE"

Chaeryeong: "I'm never doubting you again"

Ryujin: "We're buying your drinks forever holy shit"

Yeji grinned tiredly at the responses, feeling a surge of satisfaction at winning her bet so definitively.

"Your friends trippin'?" Marcus asked with amusement, seeing her phone blowing up.

"They can't believe I actually did it," Yeji explained. "But now they have to admit I'm the baddest bitch in the group."

"Damn right you are," Darius agreed. "Took two Black dicks like a pro on your first time. You really built different."

They lay together for a while, Yeji sandwiched between their warm bodies, enjoying the afterglow. Despite being thoroughly used and sore, she felt amazing. Satisfied in a way she'd never experienced, claimed and marked by these superior men.

"You stayin' the night?" Marcus asked eventually. "Or you need to get back to your girls?"

Yeji considered. Part of her wanted to go back to her friends, let them see her thoroughly fucked state in person, rub her victory in their faces. But another part of her wanted to stay here, in this bed with these incredible men, ready for more if they wanted her again.

"Can I stay?" she asked hopefully. "I don't want tonight to end yet."

"Hell yeah you can stay," Darius said with approval. "We might want another round later anyway. You down for that?"

"Absolutely," Yeji said without hesitation. "I'm yours for as long as you want me tonight."

"That's what I like to hear," Marcus said, his hand sliding down her body possessively. "Our personal Asian fucktoy for the night."

Yeji typed a quick message to her friends: "Staying the night with them. See you tomorrow. Don't wait up 😘🍆🍆"

The responses were immediate and varied. Shock, disbelief, encouragement, jealousy. But Yeji just smiled and silenced her phone, turning her full attention back to Marcus and Darius.

"So," she said, her hand wrapping around Marcus's semi-hard cock, "how long until you're ready to go again?"

"Shit, keep touchin' me like that and it won't be long," Marcus admitted with a grin.

"Me neither," Darius added as Yeji's other hand found his cock. "You really are insatiable, huh?"

"Only for Black cock," Yeji said honestly, stroking them both. "I told you, you ruined me for anyone else. All I want now is to be your slut."

"Good," Marcus said, already hardening in her grip. "Cause we ain't done with you yet. Gon' use every hole multiple times before the night's over."

"Promise?" Yeji asked with a wicked smile.

"Promise," both men confirmed.

And they kept that promise. Over the next several hours, they used Yeji thoroughly and repeatedly. Fucking her pussy, her ass, her mouth, sometimes one at a time, sometimes both together. They came in her and on her, marking her inside and out with their seed.

By the time morning came, Yeji was completely wrecked. Her holes sore and gaping, her body covered in marks and dried cum, barely able to walk. But she'd never been more satisfied in her life.

As she finally got dressed to leave—pulling on her white dress over her thoroughly used body, the BLACKED outfit stuffed in her clutch as a souvenir—Marcus and Darius exchanged numbers with her.

"We doin' this again," Marcus said. It wasn't a question.

"Definitely," Yeji agreed. "Anytime you want me."

"You really are the baddest bitch," Darius said with genuine admiration. "Most girls can't handle one of us, let alone both. You somethin' special."

Yeji beamed at the praise, then kissed each of them deeply before finally making her way to the door.

The elevator ride down felt like a walk of shame and a victory lap all at once. She could feel cum still leaking from her used holes, could feel the soreness with every step. But she held her head high, proud of what she'd accomplished.

When she finally made it back to her apartment, her friends were waiting, having barely slept, dying to hear every detail. Yeji walked in, still in her white dress, her blonde braid completely messy now, her makeup smeared, walking with a visible limp.

"Oh my god," Lia breathed, taking in her appearance.

"Tell us everything," Yuna demanded immediately.

And Yeji did, every filthy detail, watching her friends' faces cycle through shock, arousal, and amazement as she described her night with Marcus and Darius.

"So you really did it," Ryujin said when she finished. "You really got double penetrated by two Black guys you just met."

"I told you I would," Yeji reminded her with a smug smile. "And I have the video to prove it. So I believe you all owe me drinks for the foreseeable future."

"Worth it," Chaeryeong admitted. "That was the most badass thing I've ever heard."

"And now you have their numbers," Yuna said enviously. "So you can do it again whenever you want."

"Oh, I plan to," Yeji said with certainty. "They completely ruined me for normal sex. All I want now is big Black cock stretching me out and filling me up."

She'd gone from curious and fantasizing to completely addicted in one night. From wondering what BBC would feel like to knowing she could never be satisfied with anything less. From pristine and untouched by that world to thoroughly claimed and marked as a slut for Black men.

And she'd never been happier.

.

.

.

a/n: Okay here it is! I started writing this when those pics were posted and has been a tiny project since. I hope to write more and share more stories with y'all. maybe you have some ideas you'd like to share with me, always open to inspiration. also taking commissions!

here's the link: https://ko-fi.com/420b1a2eit

“Are you still here?” she asked softly, almost innocently. “I thought you’d have gone out to do something.”

Juno looked up from the newspaper. His eyes traveled up and down her body, lingering on the skin the robe left exposed. He swallowed hard, but this time he didn’t look away as quickly as before. “Your mom left last night,” he answered, his voice still hoarse. “I’m not in a hurry.”

Yuna smiled and walked toward him. She stopped right in front of the sofa, close enough for him to smell the scent of sex and warm skin still clinging to her. She leaned forward slightly, pretending to look at the newspaper, and the robe gaped open even more, revealing nearly all of one breast. The pink nipple was visible for a second before she straightened up again, as if nothing had happened. “What are you reading?” she asked, even though she knew he wasn’t reading anything.

Juno closed the newspaper with a sharp motion and set it aside. His eyes rose to meet hers. “Nothing important,” he said. “What about you? What were you doing upstairs?”

The question hung between them, heavy. Yuna sat on the arm of the sofa, crossing her legs so the robe slid higher, exposing almost her entire thigh. Her bare foot brushed accidentally against Juno’s leg. “I was… busy,” she answered, lowering her voice. “Girl stuff, you know.”

Juno didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her, that familiar tension building, as if he were holding himself back with every ounce of strength he had. Yuna savored every second of it. She stood up slowly and walked to the window, pretending to adjust the curtains to let in a little more light. The robe moved with her, opening enough for the cool air to brush the lower curve of her ass. She didn’t turn around to check if he was watching; she already knew he was.

She came back to the sofa, but this time she sat right on the cushion beside him—not too close. She let the robe stay open in front, showing the soft valley between her breasts and the line of her waist. She settled against the backrest, stretching her legs a little and resting one foot near his thigh without quite touching it. “It’s been a while since we watched a movie together,” she said casually, as if it were the most innocent idea in the world. “Mom’s always traveling and you’re always… busy. Want to put something on?”

Juno cleared his throat before answering. “Sure. What do you want to watch?”

Yuna shrugged, making the robe shift again and reveal a little more of the soft skin of her left breast. The movement was slow, almost lazy, as if she hadn’t noticed a thing. “I don’t know… something light. A romantic comedy, or maybe one of those suspense movies where you don’t know what’s going to happen. You pick.”

She picked up the remote from the coffee table and leaned forward to turn on the TV. As she did, the robe fell completely open at the top, leaving one breast almost fully exposed for several seconds. The pink nipple hardened from the brush of air and fabric. Yuna pretended not to notice; she simply settled back onto the sofa, crossing her legs so the robe rode even higher up her thighs, almost reaching the junction between them. The black silk contrasted with the pale, smooth skin of her legs, and every tiny movement made the fabric slide a little more.

Juno picked a random movie—some psychological thriller neither of them had seen. The living-room lights dimmed automatically as it started playing. Yuna got comfortable, letting her body relax against the sofa. Little by little, without rushing, she slid toward the center, moving closer to him inch by inch.

At first it was just proximity. The heat of her bare skin beneath the thin robe. Then, about fifteen minutes into the movie, she lifted her legs and tucked them onto the sofa so her knees pointed toward him. The robe opened completely at the bottom, exposing nearly the full length of her thighs and the soft shadow between them. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and the fabric barely covered what it needed to thanks to how she was sitting.

“It’s a little cold,” she murmured softly, innocently, as if she really were chilly.

Without waiting for an answer, she scooted closer until her shoulder brushed Juno’s arm. The robe gaped wider across her chest, letting the full curve of one breast come into view, the nipple barely grazing the silk that tried to cover it. Yuna pretended to focus on the screen, lightly biting her lower lip as if the movie had her completely absorbed.

Her right hand rested on her own thigh, and every so often she moved it absentmindedly, sliding the robe fabric up and down without hurry. Each time she did, the silk slipped a little more, revealing more skin, more curve, more temptation. At one point, when the movie’s heroine made a sudden move on screen, Yuna “startled” slightly and her body leaned into Juno, her breast almost brushing his arm. The robe fell wide open at the top for an instant, letting the cool air kiss her bare skin. “Sorry,” she whispered with a shy smile, not pulling away completely. “I get scared easily with these movies.”

She didn’t cover up. She let the robe stay as it was, half-open, showing the softness of her skin, the round, firm shape of her breasts, the delicate line of her waist flowing down to her hips. Her breathing stayed calm but deliberately a little deeper, making her chest rise and fall slowly, drawing his eyes again and again.

Yuna turned her head slightly toward him, her big, innocent eyes soft in the dim glow of the screen. “Are you comfortable?” she asked quietly, as if she really cared. “If you want, you can come closer… the sofa’s big, but I don’t bite.”

She smiled sweetly, as if she had no idea what she was doing. Her bare foot moved a little, now actually brushing his leg with her toes—a light, almost accidental touch. The robe kept sliding with every tiny shift of her body, leaving less and less to the imagination, yet always with that look of total innocence.

The movie kept playing, but neither of them seemed to be paying real attention anymore. The air in the living room felt heavier, warmer, charged with that silent electricity growing between them second by second. Yuna settled a little closer, letting her bare thigh press fully against his. The black silk of the robe kept slipping with every small movement, as if it had a life of its own. She pretended to be completely focused on the movie, eyes fixed on the screen, but her body spoke a different language.

Suddenly, when a loud noise burst from the speakers—a sharp bang in a suspense scene—Yuna really jumped. Her body gave a small jolt and pressed against Juno’s side. A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped her lips: a low, trembling “ah…” that sounded far too sweet to be just from fright. The robe flew open violently at the top with the movement, leaving both breasts completely exposed for several seconds. Her nipples, already hardened by the constant brush of fabric and cool air, pointed forward, pink and sensitive. “Oh… sorry,” she whispered breathlessly, sounding embarrassed. “I got really scared… I wasn’t expecting that noise.”

She didn’t cover up right away. She let the robe stay open a few moments longer, breathing a little faster, making her chest rise and fall with every inhale. Only then, with slow, clumsy movements as if she were genuinely nervous, did she pull the robe closed a little—but without tying it. The fabric remained loose, ready to fall open again with any movement.

Yuna changed position. She turned slightly to the side, resting one knee on the sofa and stretching the other leg out. As she did, the robe rode all the way up in back. The black silk slid upward, revealing the full, round curve of her ass: firm, smooth, perfectly trained at the gym, with that rounded, taut shape that gleamed faintly under the TV’s soft light. The lower part of her cheeks was completely exposed, and the shadow between them was just visible—tempting and forbidden.

She acted as if she hadn’t noticed. She rested her elbow on the back of the sofa and turned her head toward Juno with an innocent expression and wide eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, almost a whisper. “You’ve gone really quiet…”

While she spoke, she moved again, “getting comfortable.” The robe opened wider in back, leaving her ass even more exposed. The perfect curve of her glutes stood out clearly: round, firm, with that softness that invited stares, that invited imagination. Yuna flexed one leg slightly, making the flesh of her right cheek tighten and then relax—a slow, natural movement that highlighted every line, every curve. She knew exactly what she was showing. She knew he could see almost everything.

Another tense moment in the movie. This time Yuna startled harder. She let out a more audible moan, a husky, broken “mmh…” that slipped from her throat before she could stop it. Her body shook and pressed fully against Juno, her breast pushing against his arm for a long second. The robe fell completely open at the top again, and in back the fabric rode up to her waist, leaving her ass completely bare: round, perfect, smooth skin unmarked, glowing faintly with the heat rising through her body. “God… I’m so silly,” she murmured, laughing softly, her voice still shaky from the “fright.” She bit her lower lip and looked at Juno with half-lidded eyes, as if asking for forgiveness. “I don’t know why I get so scared… but when something like that happens, that little sound just comes out on its own.”

She didn’t pull away. She stayed pressed against him, the robe now practically useless. Her ass remained exposed, the generous, firm curve taking up almost all the visual space beside him. She “tried” to tug the robe down in back with one hand, but the movement was so slow and clumsy that it only made the silk slide farther, leaving the lower part of her cheeks even more visible, round and tempting. With her other hand she closed the top a little, but she left one breast almost completely out, the nipple grazing the fabric with every breath.

Yuna settled more comfortably against him, as if seeking protection. Her bare ass brushed lightly against the edge of the sofa, very close to Juno’s leg. She turned her body a little more toward him, so the full curve of her right cheek was practically pressed against his thigh. The smooth, warm skin contrasted with the fabric of his sweatpants. “Stay close…” she whispered innocently, almost childlike. “That way I won’t get scared so much. Does it bother you?”

She smiled sweetly, as if she had no idea her robe was practically wide open, that her perfect, round ass was exposed just inches from him, that every little movement made her cheeks move with that firm softness she loved to train. Her hand now rested on her own thigh, sliding the fabric up and down absentmindedly, making the silk constantly play with what it hid and what it revealed.

The movie continued, but the real show was her: her soft, “accidental” moans, the way her body pressed closer and closer, the innocent way she kept letting her firm, round ass stay on display again and again, moving with every “fright” and every innocent adjustment.

Yuna was in no hurry. She wanted him to burn. She wanted every second to be slow, delicious torture.

Yuna stayed pressed against him, the full curve of her round, firm ass practically brushing Juno’s thigh. The black silk robe no longer served any real purpose; it hung open in front and back, leaving the smooth, warm skin of her cheeks exposed with every tiny movement. She pretended to be focused on the movie, but her attention was completely on his reaction.

Suddenly, another tense moment on screen. Yuna startled harder than before. Her body gave a small jump and pressed against Juno, letting out a soft, broken moan: “Ahh… mmh…” The sound came out husky, almost involuntary, vibrating in her throat as her bare ass pressed for an instant against his leg.

Juno breathed in deeply, visibly tense. His voice came out low and rough when he finally spoke: “Yuna… you’re… really close.”

She turned her head toward him with an innocent expression, eyes big and slightly narrowed, as if she didn’t quite understand. “Does it bother you?” she asked softly and sweetly, biting her lower lip. “It’s just that I get really scared during these scenes… I don’t want to be alone on the sofa.”

As she said it, she settled even closer, turning her body a little. The robe rode higher in back, leaving her right cheek completely exposed: round, firm, with that perfect shape the gym had sculpted. The smooth skin gleamed faintly under the TV light. Yuna “tried” to pull the fabric down with one hand, but only managed to make the silk slide farther, exposing the generous curve of her ass even better.

Juno swallowed hard. His breathing had grown heavier. He glanced down for a second, then quickly looked away—but not before Yuna noticed: the front of his gray sweatpants was starting to stretch noticeably at the crotch. A clear, growing bulge pressed against the thin fabric. He tried to hide it by shifting his posture, but it was too late.

Yuna smiled inside. She had seen it. And she loved it. “Juno… are you okay?” she asked in a worried, innocent tone, as if she really didn’t know what was happening. “You seem a little… tense. Is the movie getting to you too?”

While she spoke, she moved again “to get more comfortable.” Her bare ass deliberately brushed his thigh, the smooth, warm skin sliding against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her left cheek was now almost completely exposed, round and tempting, with that perfect curve rising and falling slightly with every breath.

Juno let out a ragged sigh. His voice came out deeper than normal: “Fuck, Yuna… I don’t know if this is a good idea. You’re… practically naked.”

She blinked with a look of surprise, as if she had just noticed her state. She looked down at her own open robe, then at the bulge in his lap, where the erection was now impossible to ignore. It was becoming very obvious, pressing hard against the sweatpants. “Oh… is that because of me?” she asked quietly, her tone mixing innocence and feigned surprise. Her cheeks flushed a little, but her eyes sparkled with contained mischief. “I hadn’t noticed… sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. It’s just that with the scares everything moves…”

Yuna didn’t pull away. On the contrary, she moved a little closer, letting her firm, round ass press gently against the side of his leg. The silk robe hung uselessly to one side, leaving the full shape of her cheeks visible: round, soft, perfectly toned. She moved her hips slightly, an “innocent” motion that made her ass sway gently, brushing against him again. “I can sit farther away if you want…” she whispered, though her body didn’t move an inch. Her voice was sweet, almost childlike. “But honestly… I like being like this… close to you. It makes me feel safe.”

Juno clenched his jaw. His breathing was audible now. The erection under his sweatpants kept growing, becoming even more obvious. He tried to adjust his posture, but it only made the bulge stand out more. “Yuna…” he said hoarsely, struggling to stay in control. “Your mom…”

She cut him off with a soft, “accidental” moan when another scare in the movie made her jump slightly. This time her ass pressed harder against his leg, the firm, warm flesh sliding against the fabric. “Mmh… oh, I’m so scared…” she whispered, her voice trembling. Then, as if it were nothing, she added, “What were you saying about Mom? Don’t worry… she’s not here. It’s just the two of us.”

Yuna turned her body a little more toward him, letting her nearly naked breast brush Juno’s arm and her round ass become even more exposed, the perfect, tempting curve only centimeters from his hand. Her gaze dropped again to his crotch, where the erection was now completely obvious, hard and outlined beneath the gray fabric.

She smiled shyly, biting her lip.

Yuna stayed pressed against him on the sofa, her round, firm ass gently pressing against Juno’s thigh. The black silk robe remained practically open, leaving most of her smooth, toned cheeks exposed and moving with every innocent little adjustment of her body. The movie kept playing, but the air between them felt thick, charged.

She said nothing more. She just breathed a little deeper, pretending to be absorbed in the screen. Her right hand, which until then had rested on her own thigh, began to move slowly. At first it was an almost imperceptible touch: the tips of her fingers brushed the fabric of Juno’s sweatpants, right above the knee. A light contact, as if she were getting comfortable and her hand had landed there by accident.

A few seconds passed. Another scare in the movie made Yuna let out a soft “mmh…” and press her body tighter against him, making her bare ass slide with more pressure against his leg. At the same time, her hand slid a little higher up his thigh, moving slowly over the gray fabric. Her fingers moved calmly, tracing soft, distracted circles on the material, as if she were stroking the sofa without realizing it.

Juno tensed visibly. His breathing grew heavier, but Yuna didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the TV, her expression innocent, as if nothing her hand was doing was intentional. His erection was already very obvious beneath the sweatpants; the hard, outlined bulge pulsed slightly with every heartbeat.

Little by little, Yuna’s hand continued its journey. Her fingers brushed the inner edge of his thigh, rising with torturous slowness. She reached the top, where the fabric was stretched tight by his erection. There, without hurry, she began to caress the outline of the bulge through the clothes. Her fingertips traced soft lines up and down, pressing just enough to feel the hot hardness underneath. She did it with slow, circular movements, exploring the shape unhurriedly, as if she were distractedly touching the sofa fabric.

Juno let out a low, almost inaudible growl. His body went rigid, but he didn’t pull away. Yuna continued without looking at him, without saying a single word. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen, lightly biting her lower lip as if the movie really had her interested.

After several minutes of stroking the bulge over the sweatpants, feeling it grow harder and hotter under her palm, Yuna withdrew her hand for a moment. Without changing her expression, she brought her hand to her mouth, slowly spat into her palm, letting the hot, thick saliva pool. She rubbed it a little between her fingers to spread it, all while never taking her eyes off the TV or uttering a single syllable.

Then, with the same calm, she lowered her hand again. This time she slid it directly under the waistband of Juno’s sweatpants. Her wet, slippery fingers found the hot skin of his abdomen and kept going without stopping. They circled the base of his hard cock and wrapped around it gently, feeling the heat and the pulses against her slick palm. She began to move her hand slowly up and down, stroking him with long, unhurried movements, the saliva making everything slippery and smooth.

Yuna still didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak. Only her hand worked slowly under the fabric, squeezing lightly on the way up and loosening on the way down, exploring every inch with deliberate patience. Her bare, round ass stayed pressed against his leg, moving very slightly in time with her arm. The robe hung uselessly to the sides, leaving her firm, perfect cheeks completely exposed while her hand continued the slow, steady rhythm under the sweatpants.

The living room filled with the soft, wet sound of her hand moving, mixed with Juno’s increasingly ragged breathing. Yuna kept her eyes on the screen, innocent, as if nothing were happening beneath the fabric.

Yuna kept moving her hand with that deliberate slowness under Juno’s sweatpants. Her saliva-slick fingers traveled the entire length of his hard cock, squeezing gently at the base and sliding with more pressure toward the head, where she felt it throbbing harder each time. She didn’t look at him. She said nothing. Her eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen, as if she were completely absorbed in the movie, while her round, bare ass remained pressed against his thigh, moving barely in time with the smooth rhythm of her arm.

Little by little, she noticed the changes in him. Juno’s breathing became more irregular, deeper. His hips started moving slightly upward, seeking more friction against Yuna’s wet hand. The cock in her palm swelled more, grew hotter and stiffer, pulsing hard. She recognized the signs: he was close.

Without a word, without taking her eyes off the screen, Yuna slowly withdrew her hand from under the sweatpants. The saliva glistened on her fingers. She sat up a little on the sofa, turning her body calmly. The black silk robe fell completely open at the sides, leaving her ass fully exposed: round, firm, with that perfect, taut curve that now glowed faintly from the heat of her skin.

She positioned herself with her back to him, but very close. She rested her knees on the sofa and leaned forward slightly, arching her back naturally. Her perfect ass ended up right in front of Juno’s crotch, just inches from his hard cock that now peeked over the waistband of his sweatpants, swollen and shiny with her saliva. The position made her cheeks part slightly, showing the soft lower curve and the delicate line between them.

Yuna didn’t speak. She didn’t look at him. She simply moved slowly, lowering her hips until the hot, wet head of Juno’s cock brushed the smooth skin of her right cheek. She felt the pulsing heat against her firm flesh. She moved her hips in a very slow, subtle circle, rubbing his cock against the round curve of her ass, letting the saliva and his own wetness spread across her skin.

Juno let out a low, stifled growl. His hands gripped the sofa. Yuna continued without looking at him, eyes on the TV. She felt his cock throb harder against her cheek, tensing to the limit. Then, with one final slow, precise movement of her hips, she pressed her firm ass against him just as she sensed he couldn’t hold back any longer.

The first hot spurt shot out hard, landing directly on the smooth, round skin of her right cheek. Yuna stayed still, letting the thick, warm cum spill over her perfect ass, splattering the firm curve and sliding slowly toward the line between her cheeks. She felt every pulse, every hot jet painting her skin, warm and sticky, covering part of her cheek and dripping downward.

She didn’t move. She said nothing. She simply let her ass receive it all, arching her back slightly so the round surface stayed even more exposed, taking the rest of his load while the movie played on in the background, completely ignored.

Yuna remained in that position a few seconds longer, knees on the sofa and back lightly arched. Her perfect, round, firm ass now gleamed under the TV’s soft light, covered in thick ropes of hot cum that slid slowly down the smooth curve of her right cheek. Some jets had reached the line between her cheeks, leaving a sticky, warm sensation that dripped toward her thighs. She felt every final pulse, every drop that spilled onto her smooth skin, and an inner smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

Without hurry, without saying a single word and without looking at him yet, she stood up slowly. The black silk robe fell to the sides as if it didn’t exist. She stood in front of the sofa, giving Juno her back for a moment longer, letting him clearly see her round ass marked with his cum: the smooth, firm skin now decorated with that thick white that contrasted with her light tone. A thick rope slid down the lower curve of her left cheek and dripped slowly toward her thigh.

Then she turned around slowly. Her eyes met his for the first time since she had started touching him. Yuna’s gaze was calm, almost innocent, with a hint of mischief that barely showed. Juno was still sitting there, breathing hard, sweatpants pulled down enough for his semi-hard cock to glisten wet with saliva and cum, and an expression of shock, guilt, and absolute desire on his face.

Yuna looked him straight in the eyes for two long seconds. Then, in a soft, low voice loaded with double meaning, she murmured:

“What were you saying about Mom…?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned around calmly, letting her hips sway with every step. The open robe moved with her, but she didn’t bother closing it. Her perfect ass, still shiny and marked by Juno’s load, moved naturally as she climbed the stairs. Every step made her cheeks tighten and relax, showing the sticky trail he had left on her skin. She didn’t wipe it off. She didn’t cover up. She simply went up, knowing he was watching her from below.

She reached the second-floor hallway and, before going into her room, paused for a second at the door. She turned her head slightly over her shoulder, giving him one last long, silent look. A small, almost sweet smile appeared on her lips.

Then she went in and closed the door softly.

Downstairs in the living room, Juno stayed motionless on the sofa. The movie kept playing, but he wasn’t watching it anymore. His gaze was fixed on the stairs where Yuna had disappeared. His chest rose and fell heavily. He could still feel the heat of her hand, the slippery softness of her saliva, the way her firm, round ass had pressed against him to catch every spurt.

“Fuck…” he thought, running a hand over his face.

He had just come all over his girlfriend’s daughter’s ass. His stepdaughter. The same girl who lived under the same roof, who came down in T-shirts and nearly transparent robes, who moved as if she had no idea what effect she had. And the worst… or the best… was that she had provoked the whole thing. She had touched him without saying a word, without looking at him, and then had offered her perfect ass as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Guilt tightened in his stomach, but the desire was much stronger. He could still see in his mind the image of his cum sliding down those round, firm cheeks, the way she had arched slightly to take it better, without a single word.

Her boyfriend walked beside her, hands in his pockets, but his gaze fixed on that crevice between her breasts, on that promise of soft flesh he so loved to share. A dirty half-smile played on his lips, mixing provocation with that sickening lust of one who knows the night will still bear fruit.

"You still have that recording?" she asked, her voice soft as if ordering a coffee, but her eye gleaming with naughtiness.

He pretended not to understand, just to provoke.

"What recording, love?"

Natty turned her head slowly, her eyebrow arched in a mix of mockery and lust. Her full lips, painted red, parted slightly.

"The one from last time. When you caught me giving my pussy to that guy on the street near the bar. You filming it all like the loving little cuckold you are."

Her tone was so casual it seemed absurd. As if she were commenting on the price of bread. But the words, heavy with lewdness, hung in the warm night air.

He let out a hoarse laugh, his cock hardening inside his pants just from remembering.

"You talk about it like it's a graduation memory, you little slut."

"And isn't it?" she retorted, pressing her bag against her body, but her nipple already hard, marking the thin fabric of the dress. "You seemed more interested in filming every spurt than in pulling me out of there. Drooling over your phone while I swallowed cum."

The silence that followed was dense, charged with lust.

They turned the corner. The yellowish light of the streetlamp drew shadows, highlighting the volume of Natty's huge breasts, her slender waist, the hips men loved to grab.

"I kept it, yes," he confessed finally, his voice thick. "I jerk off watching you give your little pussy to strangers. Watching how you moaned, how you begged for more cum."

Natty bit her lip, feeling her panties soak through. But she maintained her elegant, almost mocking posture.

"I thought you'd deleted it, you naughty cuckold."

"You wanted me to delete it? Lose the image of your cunt leaking milk?"

She shrugged, her breasts bouncing with the movement.

"No. Just wanted to know if you still get hard seeing your wife get fucked by others."

He stopped suddenly, pulling her by the arm. The look they exchanged was dirty, laden with sick desire. He squeezed her arm, feeling her soft skin.

"I get hard watching how you look at the camera when you realize I'm filming. How you shake your ass more, how you ask for 'more cum, more milk' just because you know I'm watching."

Natty held his gaze, her heart beating fast, her cunt pulsing empty. Then she turned her face, resuming the walk, but her ass swaying more now, provoking.

"So keep it safe. Because today I want to update the phone's memory."

The conversation returned to mundane matters afterwards, but the air between them was already thick with lewdness. It was about exhibitionism, about the thrill of being seen, of being used, of having a docile cuckold filming everything. And on that silent street, under the warm light of the lampposts, they were exactly where they wanted to be: a few steps from the tobacco shop and the group of black men that would change the night.

Some four or five, maybe more. It was hard to count in the gloom. Large bodies, a heavy presence. Some with caps, others with chains around their necks, all with that energy of those who dominate the sidewalk just by existing.

Natty's boyfriend slowed his pace, his eyes fixed on the group. He felt his cock harden instantly, his imagination already projecting scenes. He glanced at Natty, who was also observing the men with a familiar gleam in her eyes.

"See those over there?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah."

"You guys got a joint, pal?" the boyfriend called out, already approaching with the greatest naturalness, as if he were just another pedestrian.

The men turned slowly. Eyes scanned the couple, but lingered on Natty. On the generous neckline. On the huge breasts that seemed about to burst from the dress. On the thick thighs. On the shapely ass.

One of them, the tallest, with a full beard, smiled mockingly.

"We do, yeah. Come here."

He already pulled a fat joint from his pocket, lighting it with the dexterity of someone who does it every night. The sweet smoke filled the air.

The boyfriend pulled Natty by the arm, bringing her close to the group. She ended up right in the middle of them, her body surrounded by those large men, feeling the heat emanating from their skin, the smell of expensive perfume mixed with sweat and smoke.

"Here" — the bearded one offered the joint first to Natty. "The lady always first."

Natty took the cigarette with two fingers, brought it to her lips, and took a long drag, her eyes fixed on the man in front of her. She held the smoke, then released it slowly, her gaze heavy with lust.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice honeyed.

The joint passed from hand to hand. Natty's boyfriend smoked too, but his eyes never left her, the way the men watched her, how some no longer even bothered to hide their gaze dropping to her breasts, her legs.

"Your girl is hot, huh, bro," commented one of them, shorter, with his cap turned backwards. His hand, large and heavy, was dangerously close to Natty's ass.

The boyfriend smiled, that docile cuckold smile Natty knew so well.

"Yeah. She likes to dress up."

"Dress up is an understatement" — another man joined the conversation, this one with an open white shirt showing his chest. "With a body like that, she might as well walk around naked."

The others laughed, a deep, complicit laugh.

Natty felt the heat rise between her legs. The night breeze touched her skin, but inside she burned. The joint went around once more, and she took another drag, longer now, feeling her mind float.

"You guys live around here?" asked the bearded one.

"Not too far," the boyfriend replied. "But the night is good for walking."

"It is, yeah," agreed the bearded man, his eyes glued to Natty's breasts. "Especially when the path has a view like this."

Natty smiled, a slow, provocative smile. She leaned her body slightly forward as she passed the joint, offering their eyes the deep valley between her breasts.

"You like the view?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

The men exchanged glances. The air grew thicker. The bearded one laughed, shaking his head.

"This one's naughty, huh."

"More than you can imagine," the boyfriend replied, his hand sliding down Natty's back, stopping at the curve of her waist, fingers teasing her skin.

The joint finished. The bearded one stubbed the end out on the ground, but no one made a move to leave. The group remained there, the men now openly staring at Natty, measuring every curve, every volume.

"Going home?" asked one of them, the one with the cap.

"We could go," the boyfriend replied, but his tone said there was no hurry at all.

"Or you could stay a while longer," suggested the bearded one. "The night is young. And we were bored until you showed up."

Natty bit her lower lip, feeling her boyfriend's gaze burning into her. He squeezed her waist, a small gesture, but one that said everything: "you decide, but I want you to say yes."

"Stay where?" she asked, too innocent for the lewdness shining in her eyes.

The bearded man gestured with his chin towards the alley next to the tobacco shop. Dark. Narrow. Perfect.

"It's quieter over there. We can talk better, smoke another one… get to know the new friends better."

Natty's heart raced. Her cunt pulsed hard, soaking her panties. She looked at her boyfriend, then at the men, then at the dark alley.

"You guys want to get to know me better?" her voice came out slower.

The bearded man stepped closer. Now he was close enough for Natty to feel the heat of his large body, the smell of tobacco and sweat.

"We do, yeah. Especially if you're as hot as you look."

Natty didn't answer with words. She just smiled, that slutty smile of one who knew exactly what was about to happen. She slowly ran her hand over her own neck, descending to the neckline, her fingers teasing her own skin.

The boyfriend watched everything, his cock throbbing in his pants, his breath short. This was it. Exactly what he wanted. To see the desire in those men's eyes, to know that in minutes they would have what he had at home.

"So let's go," said Natty, her voice firm, her eyes fixed on the bearded man. "Show me this alley."

They had barely set foot at the mouth of the alley when hands began devouring Natty from all sides, as if she were a feast and they had been starving for days. The darkness swallowed the group, but one could make out the silhouettes of the large men surrounding her figure, huge hands exploring every inch of that body that already offered itself, trembling with lust.

Thick fingers buried themselves in Natty's enormous breasts, squeezing, kneading, as if wanting to extract milk from that soft flesh. Her breasts spilled out of the neckline, and mouths took turns biting the already hard nipples, hot tongues licking the tips while she moaned softly, her head thrown back, her eyes half-closed with pleasure.

"Fuck, what delicious tits," grumbled one of them, his mouth full of breast, sucking eagerly like a hungry baby.

"Suck it, yeah, lick those tits, they're yours now."

Even larger hands grabbed her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, spreading the buttocks, feeling the heat emanating from there. One of them squeezed so hard his nails marked the skin, and Natty gasped, mixing pain and pleasure in a single moan.

"Nice ass, huh, little slut," another man commented, slapping it, the sounds echoing in the narrow alley. Natty's buttock rippled with the impact, red under her tanned skin.

"Hit it more, hit that slut's ass!"

Agile fingers slid between her legs, finding her soaked panties, a useless cloth that no longer hid anything. A man, perhaps the bearded one, pushed the fabric aside and plunged two fingers deep into her cunt, feeling the hot walls immediately contracting around him.

"See that, cuckold?" he showed his fingers covered in dripping honey, shining in the darkness. "Your girl's already leaking. Can't handle a finger without drooling all over."

"Look how wet I get for them, cuckold. Pay attention and learn" – Natty agreed.

The boyfriend watched everything from the corner of the alley, one hand already on his hard cock inside his pants, jerking off slowly while recording with his cell phone. His eyes gleamed with sick lust, his mouth dry, his heart racing.

Natty felt more fingers invading her from behind, one of them circling her asshole, pressing against the tight entrance. She moaned louder, instinctively grinding against those hands, wanting more, always more.

"Look at that, her little asshole is begging," laughed one of the men, running his pussy-wet finger over her anus, feeling the opening contract.

"Fuck her already," another encouraged. "She didn't come here to talk."

Hands violently pulled Natty's dress off, removing the thin fabric from her body as if it were paper. Her huge breasts sprang free, swaying heavily, and two men immediately leaned in to suck them, one on each nipple, while two others held her by the arms, immobilizing her against the damp alley wall.

"What delicious tits," one of them repeated between sucks, his mouth full, drooling on her chest.

Natty felt the orgasm approaching dangerously with just that barrage of stimuli. The hands roaming every curve, the fingers shoved inside her, the mouths sucking her breasts, the slaps on her ass, the name-calling, the men's deep laughter.

"Gonna cum already, little slut?" teased the bearded man, feeling her cunt contract around his fingers. "Wait up, this here is just the beginning."

He pulled his fingers out of her.

"Don't take them out, fuck! I was about to cum, you son of a bitch." Natty moaned in frustration, her body trembling, begging for more.

But before she could complain, they were already turning her back to the wall, one of the men kneeling between her legs, pulling her soaked panties down.

"I'm gonna lick this whole pussy before I stick my dick in," he declared, his tongue already diving deep into that wet flesh.

Natty screamed when she felt the hot tongue invade her pussy, sucking eagerly, while another man positioned himself and pulled her by the neck, making Natty lean her body forward as he unsheathed a huge, black cock.

"Get ready, slut, I want your mouth on my dick," he ordered, slapping the thick glans on her lips. "Suck it like you sucked that joint."

Natty opened her mouth immediately, placed her hands on his thigh, and hungrily swallowed the entire cock in a deep throat that drew a moan from the man. Her tongue worked the shaft while downstairs another man's tongue devoured her pussy, his fingers spread apart, separating her large labia to better lick her clitoris.

"Fuck, what a greedy girl," someone commented, but she no longer knew who.

The sounds were disgusting, obscene, beautiful. Wet sucking, choked moans, slaps on flesh, heavy breathing. The entire alley stank of sex, of sweat, of raw lust.

The boyfriend filmed everything from an angle that captured the pussy being licked, her mouth stuffed with cock, her breasts swaying. His hand jerked off nonstop, his own ass trembling with the desire to participate, but he knew his place.

Natty felt the first orgasm explode when the tongue on her clitoris sped up, her body shaking, the moans choked on the cock she was sucking. She came hard, the fluids running down the beard of the man licking her, who just laughed and kept sucking, wanting more.

"That's it, cum on my face, little slut," he ordered against her pulsing cunt. "I want it all."

When the cock came out of her mouth for her to breathe, Natty was drooling, her eyes teary with pleasure, her body marked with fingers, her cunt throbbing.

"More," she asked, her voice hoarse, almost a whisper. "I want more. Much more."

The men laughed, those deep laughs of those who would spend the whole night there.

"Easy, hot stuff," the bearded one approached, his huge cock already in his hand, pointing at her. "The night's just beginning. And you're gonna take it until morning."

Natty smiled, a satisfied slut's smile, and turned to face the wall, offering her arched ass, her hands resting on the damp bricks.

"Then start," she challenged, grinding her hips. "Fill me with cum. All of yours."

The bearded man didn't need to hear it twice. He positioned the head of his cock at the entrance of her slippery pussy and sank all the way in one go, his balls slapping against her clitoris with every violent thrust. She clung to the damp bricks, her nails chipping in an attempt to hold on as she was impaled without mercy.

"Take it, little slut," he grunted, spitting on her back, the saliva running down her spine as he pounded deep. "Take this black cock. Is this what you wanted, you bitch?"

"Yes, yes, YES!" Natty screamed, her body shaking with every impact, her huge breasts swinging like crazy pendulums.

The other men watched, jerking off, cursing. One of them approached with his cell phone on, filming close-up the huge cock entering and exiting Natty's wrecked pussy, her swollen lips, the red flesh appearing with each thrust.

"Film that asshole too," ordered another. "I want to see her take it there too."

The bearded man spat in his own hand and rubbed it on Natty's asshole, his finger entering unceremoniously, forcing the tight passage. She moaned louder, a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Not like that," she whimpered.

"Yes, like that, fuck," he replied, pushing his finger deeper. "You're gonna shut up and take it. Weren't you the one who asked for more?"

He pulled his cock out of her pussy and spat on the entrance to her ass, rubbing the glans on the spot, threatening to enter. Natty held her breath, her body tense.

"Relax that asshole or I'll tear you apart," his voice was deep, with no negotiation.

She tried to relax, but when the head of the cock began to enter, she felt as if she were being split in two. She screamed, a high-pitched scream that was soon muffled by the bearded man's huge hand. He kept pushing, centimeter by centimeter, forcing the narrow passage, until the entire cock disappeared inside her.

"Fuck, what a tight asshole," he moaned, his eyes rolling back. "Too delicious."

The slaps started coming, hard, marking Natty's ass red. Each thrust in her ass was accompanied by a slap that made the flesh ripple.

"Take it, take it, take it," he chanted, the swear words coming out with his heavy breath.

The boyfriend filmed everything from a privileged angle, his cock in his hand jerking off nonstop. When Natty's eyes met the camera, he saw tears mixed with lust, her makeup running, drool running from the corner of her mouth.

"Look at the camera, little slut," he ordered. "Look how much of a whore you are. Look how you love getting your asshole wrecked."

Natty obeyed, her eyes fixed on the lens, her mouth open in a continuous moan as the bearded man destroyed her ass.

"Tell the camera," another man commanded, bringing his cock close to her mouth. "Tell them you're our whore."

"I'm a whore," she moaned, her voice failing. "Your whore."

"Louder, fuck!"

"I'M A WHORE!" she screamed, and the sound reverberated in the alley.

The bearded man squeezed her breasts hard, his fingers marking the white flesh, pulling her nipples as if they would come off. The pain made Natty scream, but the cock in her ass didn't stop, each time deeper, faster.

"I'm gonna cum in this delicious asshole," he warned. "You want milk in your ass, little slut?"

"Yes, I want milk in my ass," she begged, already shameless.

"Ask for it like the whore you are."

"Please, cum in my ass," she whimpered, her ass arched, her body sweaty. "Fill me with cum, make me your whore."

The bearded man grunted, his hands clawed into her hips, and buried himself as deep as he could, cumming deep inside Natty's ass. She felt the hot jet filling her insides, her body trembling in a violent orgasm that made her legs lose their strength.

They did not let her fall. Immediately, another man assumed the position, pulling his cock out and thrusting it into her slick, honeyed cunt.

"Put your fucking ass on my dick," he demanded, and Natty felt the liquid trickling from her buttocks as he penetrated her.

This man was even more brutal. He grabbed Natty's hair, yanking her head back as he fucked her, forcing her to arch her spine into an uncomfortable position.

"Just look at you," he licked her face. "Full of cum, all fucked out, and you still want more. You disgusting little slut."

"Hit her," someone suggested. "Show her who's in charge."

The man obeyed. His large hand came down hard on Natty's face, cracking against her cheek. She saw stars, tasted blood in her mouth, but her cunt clenched even tighter around his cock.

"You liked that, you masochist?" he laughed, hitting her again, on the other side.

"Yeah, I liked it," she replied, her voice faltering. "Hit me more."

"Fuck," the man laughed, incredulous. "This chick is sick."

But he hit her again. And again. Until Natty's face was red, swollen, but the whore's smile still lingered on her lips.

Her boyfriend filmed every slap, every spit, every tear. His cock pulsed in his hand, ready to explode, but he held back, he wanted more, he wanted everything.

When the second man came inside Natty's cunt, pushing her head against the wall as he emptied his balls, another was already waiting. This one was smaller, but more violent. He grabbed Natty by the throat, squeezing lightly, just so she could feel the pressure, and shoved his cock into her mouth.

"Suck this shit," he ordered. "Clean up all the cum."

Natty sucked, the taste of imaginary condom, of sweaty cock, of others' cunt and ass. Her tongue licked the glans, ran along the shaft, while he squeezed her neck.

"Deeper, for fuck's sake," he forced her head down, and the cock went all the way into her throat, making Natty's eyes bulge as she gagged, almost vomiting.

"Yeah, like that," he moaned. "Like that, you disgusting little slut."

The other men approached, surrounding her. Hands grabbed her breasts, pinched her nipples hard, pulled her hair. She was a toy, an object, and she loved every second.

The bearded man, now recovered, approached with his cock still slick from ass and cunt.

"Run your tongue here," he ordered, rubbing his dirty glans on her lips. "Lick it like the whore you are."

Natty licked, tasting the strong flavor of sex, of cum, of ass. Her tongue passed over the glans, cleaning the fluids, while she looked up into his eyes, submissive.

"Swallow it," he commanded, spitting into her mouth. "All of it."

She swallowed. The saliva, the residual cum, the spit. All of it.

The boyfriend was filming, his cock ready to burst, when the bearded man looked at him.

"Hey, cuckold," he called. "Come here."

The boyfriend approached, his cell phone still filming, his hard cock in his hand.

"Wanna join?" the bearded man asked, with a cruel smile.

"I... I just like to watch," he replied, his voice trembling.

"Watch?" the bearded man laughed. "Then watch this."

He pulled the boyfriend by the arm and knelt him in front of Natty, who had her mouth full of another cock.

"Open her mouth," he ordered. "I want to see you kiss your slut after she's sucked us off."

The boyfriend hesitated, but obeyed. He held Natty's swollen face in both hands and brought his lips close. When her mouth met his, he tasted cum, sweat, everything. And he got harder than ever.

"Kiss her, cuckold," the men laughed. "Drink the rest of the cum we left behind."

They kissed, a dirty, wet kiss, full of fluids. And when they parted, Natty smiled at him, that complicit smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Now, enough of this nonsense," the bearded man interrupted. "Turn this whore over on all fours again. The night is long, and we haven't all come yet."

Natty obeyed, turning around, offering her ass, marked with handprints, her gaping, ravaged asshole, which pulsed, spurting torrents of hot, thick cum that ran down its edges, forming puddles of liquid desire. Her cunt, completely soaked, overflowed rivers of vaginal honey, streaming down her legs in an uncontrollable flow of pure lust, dripping incessantly in a wet spectacle of endless lewdness.

The men positioned themselves, one in front, one behind, ready to use both holes at the same time.

The night wore on, and Natty had completely lost all sense of time, of space, of who she was. In the darkness of the alley, she was just a body with holes, a whore at the service of those huge men who took turns without rest.

They were in both holes now. One enormous cock buried in her cunt, another in her ass, their movements synchronized in a brutal rhythm that made Natty sway like a ragdoll. Her hands no longer held onto anything; her arms hung limply as the men held her by the hips, using her without mercy.

"Take it, take it, take it," the one underneath, in her cunt, grunted, each thrust making her breasts bounce violently.

The one behind spat on Natty's back, the saliva running hot down her spine as he pounded her already fucked-out ass, full of cum, loose from being used so much.

"This ass is done for," he laughed, slapping it and making the liquid spill. "It's a swimming pool of milk in here."

Natty just moaned, incomprehensible sounds, her mouth drooling onto the ground of dirt and cigarette butts. The boyfriend filmed from a corner, his cock in his hand, having come into his own hand minutes ago while watching his wife be used like never before. But he was hard again. He couldn't stop watching.

The one in front and the one behind began to speed up, their movements meeting inside Natty's body, the heads of their cocks touching through the thin wall separating cunt and ass. She felt a wave of pleasure so violent she thought she would faint.

"Yes, YES, MOOOORE!" she screamed, her voice already hoarse from moaning.

"Cum, you little whore," the one behind ordered, squeezing her neck. "Cum on these cocks."

The orgasm came like an earthquake, shaking Natty's entire body, her legs buckling, her screams echoing in the alley. She contracted completely around the cocks, tightening, sucking, and both men grunted simultaneously, coming inside her, filling those already overflowing holes even more.

Cum ran down Natty's thighs, forming puddles on the ground. It mixed with the dirt, with the grime, with the sweat. She fell to her knees, the men pulling out of her with a wet sound, their cocks dripping.

Natty remained there for a moment, her face on the ground, but her ass still raised, open. She was panting, her body ached, her holes throbbed, her face was dirty with dried tears, saliva, and cum. The men around laughed, commented, jerked off preparing for another round, spectators and executioners simultaneously, they maintained a semicircular formation, their silhouettes outlined by the flickering light of a distant streetlamp.

"Just look at this whore," one of them pointed, his dirty finger directed at the prostrate figure. "All fucked out and she still wants more."

Natty's once upright posture had succumbed to muscular exhaustion and sensory saturation. Her body, marked by fluids of diverse origins, trembled in involuntary spasms.

A moan, primitive and animal, escaped her parted lips as her legs, in a visible state of motor failure, obeyed the command. She rose, staggering, a puppet whose strings had been handed over to those strangers. The men, in an almost choreographed movement, closed the circle. The boyfriend, a few steps away, kept his mobile device raised, its lenses capturing every detail of that morbid spectacle—his wife, transmuted into an object, beautiful in her complete dissolution.

"You know what this whore deserves now?" the bearded man's voice, deep and modulated, resonated against the concrete walls.

Complicit laughter filled the night silence. Some, more experienced in the dynamics of those rituals, already foresaw the outcome.

"She deserves to be washed," he completed, a cruel smile expanding beneath his facial hair. "But not with water."

The circle, previously loose, tightened. Natty, with a slow movement of her neck, swept her gaze over the exposed anatomies before her—erect cocks, pointed at her like silent accusations.

"Open your mouth," the order was unison, though uttered by only one voice.

She obeyed. Her tongue, in an almost decorative gesture, extended beyond her lips. Her eyes, fixed on the bearded man, carried an expression that transcended mere submission—there was an absolute surrender there, a complete erasure of her own will.

"First the face," he determined, positioning himself.

The hot liquid hit her forehead in an arc, running in rivulets down her glabella, curving around her nostrils, invading her eye sockets. She closed her eyelids, feeling the viscous substance run over her face, the pungent odor impregnating her respiratory tract. When the stream reached her mouth, she opened it wider, swallowing, accepting, integrating that liquid into her own organism.

"Yeah, fuck yeah," another man approached, directing his jet at her breasts. The heat hit her nipples, ran down her abdomen, forming ephemeral deltas on her sweaty skin.

Natty felt each drop as a mark, an indelible signature on her body. More men joined the ritual, their jets crossing in the air, hitting her back, her buttocks, her lower limbs. In those instants, she was a living altar for that cult of degradation, a statue being baptized by fountains of urine.

The bearded man, with an imperative movement, grabbed her by the nape, forcing her head back, exposing her throat.

"Open that whore mouth wide," he ordered, introducing his member between her lips and urinating directly into her pharynx.

Natty swallowed. Choked. But she swallowed. The liquid went down, hot, dense, with a pronounced taste, impregnating every tissue of her throat. When he pulled away, she coughed, but another was already positioning himself, another jet, another dose to be ingested.

The boyfriend filmed, his member pulsing in sync with the scenes he captured. He saw when they urinated in her eyes, in her hair, on her breasts.

"Now on the ground," the bearded man's voice sounded like a verdict. "Lie down there."

Natty obeyed, letting herself fall onto the ground impregnated with debris and previously spilled fluids. She lay on her back, arms open in a crucifix, offering herself completely. The men, in a circle, urinated simultaneously, their jets converging on that outstretched body, covering every inch of her skin with a uniform layer of urine.

She felt the multiple heat hitting her face, her belly, her breasts, her vulva. She opened her mouth, collecting as much as she could, letting the excess run from the corners of her lips. When the last jets ceased, her appearance was unrecognizable: her hair matted into clumps, her skin shining under the layer of urine, her orifices exuding an abject mixture of semen and liquid excrement.

The men laughed, applauded, lit cigarettes.

The bearded man knelt beside her, his hand cupping her face.

Natty raised her eyes, red, her face swollen. And then, slowly, her cracked lips curved into a smile.

"Thank you," the whisper escaped, audible only to those closest.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Sick. But hot."

He rose, addressing the group:

"It's over. You can take this bitch back home."

The boyfriend approached, helping Natty to her feet. She staggered, her legs threatening to give way, her body in a state of maximum alert. He supported her by the waist, feeling the moisture still running from her skin, the pungent odor emanating from her.

"Let's go, love," he murmured, his eyes shining with a mixture of distorted affection and contained excitement. "I'll clean you up at home."

She laughed, a fragile laugh, but loaded with subtext.

"Clean me up?" her voice, now a hoarse whisper, carried irony. "Are you going to piss on me again?"

The look they exchanged was dense, laden with implicit understandings, with unverbalized agreements.

"I am," he replied, the conviction evident in his voice. "But first I want to see you sprawled in the bathroom, all pissed on. All our little whore."

Juno’s expression shifted from confusion to absolute shock in less than a second. His pupils dilated, capturing the image of Yuna standing in the doorway. From his angle, she was a surreal vision: the delicacy of her shoulders and neck contrasted with the visual explosion of her wide hips and that round ass that seemed to claim every inch of the room. The black bra barely contained the volume of her tits, which rose and fell rapidly with her erratic breathing.

Juno couldn't help it; he let out a coarse gasp, an animal sound that escaped his throat while his gaze descended, inevitably, toward the tiny panties that left her ass totally exposed. Desire hit him like an electric shock, direct and violent. Under the sheets, his cock reacted instantly, hardening with a painful force, marking the fabric of his pants with a thick, throbbing bulge screaming for attention.

Yuna said nothing. She remained there, leaning against the doorframe, letting him devour her with his eyes, savoring the desperation emanating from him. A small smile, almost imperceptible but loaded with malice, appeared on her lips as she watched Juno swallow hard, trapped in the abyss of his own hunger.

Yuna didn't wait for him to recover his speech or his breath. She moved away from the frame and began walking toward the bed with a calculated slowness, almost choreographed. Each step was an exercise in visual torture for the man watching her. From his perspective, the movement of her hips was hypnotic; the rhythmic sway made the cheeks of her ass, left bare by the G-string, bounce with a firm and provocative softness. The lamp light played over the smooth skin of her buttocks, highlighting that perfect, round curve that seemed to expand and contract with every step she took toward him.

Juno was paralyzed, his chest heaving violently. The air in the room had become dense, saturated by the scent of young skin and the electricity of forbidden desire. When Yuna reached the edge of the bed, she didn't stop; she slid onto the sheets with a feline grace, making the mattress give way under her light weight.

She settled beside him, but didn't touch him immediately. She lay there on her side, propping her head up with her hand and looking at Juno with eyes that feigned a devastating innocence. The black bra was so tight that her tits spilled over the edges, offering a privileged view of her fair skin and the hardened nipples rubbing against the fabric.

"Daddy..." she whispered. The word came out soft, almost like a plea, but it carried the weight of a chain binding him to the spot. "I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about what happened today in the living room... and I felt lonely. Can I stay here for a little bit?"

The use of that word hit Juno like a sledgehammer. "Daddy." It was the raw reminder of who he was in her life, the bond with her mother, the morality he was supposed to protect. But the sound of that voice, mixed with the image of that round ass pressing against the sheets right next to his leg, annihilated any trace of reason in his brain.

Juno tried to answer, but only managed a coarse clear of his throat. His hands gripped the sheets, squeezing the fabric hard to avoid the temptation of lunging at her. However, his body had already betrayed him completely. Under the cloth of his pants, his cock was so hard it caused him pain; it pulsed violently against the mattress, a brutal erection that left no room for doubt about his state.

Yuna noticed the bulge. She saw it and felt the heat radiating from him. At that moment, the mask of innocence began to crack, giving way to a predatory gaze. She moved closer, sliding her slender body against his, allowing the lateral curve of her wide hips to brush against Juno's leg. The contact was electric.

"My... " she murmured, dropping her voice to a dark purr. "It seems like someone isn't very relaxed. What's wrong, Daddy? Am I making you nervous?"

Yuna shifted slightly, arching her back so that her round ass pressed deliberately against his thigh. The soft, hot skin of her buttocks sank into the fabric of Juno's pants, creating a slow friction that made him let out a stifled moan. She let out a low giggle, loaded with malice, and slid her hand across his abdomen, moving slowly toward the zone where the tension was maximum.

"I know exactly how you're looking at me," she whispered in his ear, grazing it with her lips. "I know you're dying to touch me. I know that since you came over my ass in the living room, you haven't stopped imagining what it feels like to have me like this, naked and surrendered to you. Stop pretending... we both know you want me so bad it hurts."

Juno closed his eyes tight, clenching his jaw until his teeth ached. He was at the absolute limit. The pressure of Yuna's hips against him and the raw confession in his ear had finally broken his defenses. It was no longer a question of morality or respect; it was an animal necessity, a visceral hunger that only she could satiate.

Yuna felt the vibration of his body, the erratic breathing filling the space between them. She knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. With a slow and deliberate movement, Yuna lowered her hand past the limit, wrapping her fingers around the throbbing hardness under his clothes.

Yuna didn't rush to touch him. She knew that anticipation was a weapon far more powerful than the act itself. She stayed there, propped up on her elbow, watching him with a gaze that was simultaneously cold and hungry. The black bra was so tight that her tits seemed to want to jump out of the fabric with every breath, and the position she was in made the G-string sink even deeper into the firm flesh of her ass, leaving both round cheeks completely exposed against the sheets.

"Look me in the eyes, Daddy," she ordered in a whisper, with an authority that contrasted with her slender body. "Look at me and tell me you haven't thought about this since the first day you walked through that door."

Juno let out a coarse groan, closing his eyes, but Yuna moved, sliding over him to force him to feel the heat of her wide hips brushing his thigh. The contrast was brutal: the fragility of her waist against the power of her lower curves.

"Don't you dare close your eyes," she insisted, her voice dropping to a purr. "I know you've been watching me. I know that every time I walked past you in short clothes, or when I forgot to close the bathroom door, you felt like your heart was jumping out of your chest. I know you were dying to know if my ass was as soft as it looked from afar."

Juno opened his eyes, and in them, Yuna saw everything: the guilt, the self-loathing, but above all, an animal hunger that was consuming him alive. He tried to articulate a word, but his voice came out broken, almost non-existent.

"She's... she's your girlfriend's daughter, fuck," he managed to say, though his words lacked strength; they were the last thread of a morality already shredded.

Yuna let out a low, cruel giggle, moving her hips with a slow sway that pressed her round ass against Juno's leg. The friction was minimal, but for someone who had been holding back for months, it was like an explosion.

"That's exactly why it's so exciting, isn't it?" she whispered, leaning in until her lips almost brushed his. "The fact that you're my mother's boyfriend makes you crave my body ten times more. I've felt observed for months, Daddy. I've felt your gaze nailed to my tits when I bend over; I've felt how your eyes devour my ass every time I walk in front of you. Don't lie to me... tell me you want me. Tell me you're dying to break all the rules just to feel me inside you."

Juno let out a trembling sigh, and his entire body shuddered. The tension in his crotch was now unbearable; his cock was so hard that the bulge under his pants pulsed with violent force. The desire accumulated over such a long time—the constant struggle to stay "upright" while living with a temptation like Yuna—collapsed in that instant.

"Yes..." he confessed, his voice broken and hoarse. "Fuck, yes... I've wanted you since the first fucking day. You drove me crazy every time I saw you. I didn't know where to look to avoid wanting you, but I always ended up looking at your ass... thinking about what it would be like to have it squeezed between my hands while I hammer you against the wall."

Yuna felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine hearing his raw honesty. The fact that the "correct" and "adult" man had surrendered at her feet was the sweetest victory. She settled better over him, arching her back so her tits brushed Juno's naked chest, while her round ass moved slowly against his thigh, marking a hypnotic rhythm.

"I love that you're so filthy on the inside, Daddy," she whispered in his ear, lightly biting his lobe. "I love knowing that while you were smiling at my mother, you were imagining what it would be like to make me moan. Now you don't have to imagine it anymore. Now I'm the one who decides what happens with that hard cock of yours."

Juno let out an animal grunt, his hands finally abandoning the sheets to grip Yuna's wide hips. His fingers sank into the soft, firm flesh of her sides, squeezing her with a desperation that bordered on pain. The air in the room was saturated with lust; there was no longer any room for guilt, only for the hunger accumulated over months.

Yuna smiled against his neck, feeling his erratic breath. She knew she had him completely broken. With a slow and deliberate movement, she slid her hand down, crossing the barrier of the fabric to wrap around Juno's throbbing hardness.

Yuna didn't start moving her hand immediately. She simply closed her fingers around Juno's hard cock, squeezing with just enough force to make him let out a stifled moan. She stayed like that, feeling the violent beat of the member against her palm, while she rose slightly above him to look down at him. The position was devastating: Yuna's tits, squeezed into the black bra, hung perilously close to Juno's face, and her wide hips created an obscene contrast with her narrow waist.

"Not so fast, Daddy," she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "Before I let you feel what you really want, I want you to be honest with me. I want to know exactly how filthy you've been while I wasn't looking."

Juno was in a trance, his hands still buried in Yuna's hips, squeezing the firm flesh of her sides. His breathing was a mess—a series of short, deep gasps that filled the silence of the room.

"Tell me..." she continued, tightening her grip on his cock, "how many times have you jerked off thinking about me? Don't lie to me. I want the real number. How many afternoons did you spend locked in this room, imagining my ass was in your face while you came alone?"

Juno closed his eyes, shame fighting against raw excitation. But Yuna's grip was an anchor that forced him to surrender.

"Every... fuck, every single afternoon," he confessed with a broken voice. "Sometimes two or three times a day. It drove me crazy imagining what it would be like to strip you, how your tits would feel in my hands... I came thinking about the sound you'd make if I had you underneath me."

Yuna let out a soft giggle, a crystalline but cruel sound. She shifted slightly, making her round ass rub against his leg with a slow, circular movement, while her hand continued to keep Juno's cock prisoner and tense.

"I love it... I love knowing I've had you this desperate," she murmured, lowering her gaze to his crotch. "But there's something more. Something much filthier. I've noticed that some of my panties disappear from the laundry basket or show up shifted..."

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with a toxic electricity. Yuna leaned in further, pressing her tits against his chest, forcing him to feel the heat of her skin. Her eyes shone with a predatory curiosity.

"Tell me the truth, Daddy... have you smelled them? Have you taken my used panties to your face to smell me while you jerked off? Do you like knowing how I smell when I'm wet?"

Juno let out a grunt that was half-moan, half-sob of frustration. The fact that she knew, and that she asked him with this cold dominance, finished annihilating any shred of dignity. His cock gave a violent jump in Yuna's hand, pulsing with an almost painful force.

"Yes..." he admitted, opening his eyes and looking at her with animal desperation. "I did. God, I did it several times. The smell of woman you left on the fabric drove me crazy... it made me feel like you were close even when you were in another room. I'm a fucking sicko, Yuna... I'm a sicko for you."

Yuna smiled with absolute satisfaction. She had managed to strip him mentally before she did so physically. The power she felt at that moment was stronger than any orgasm; seeing him like this—reduced to a man dependent and perverted by her body—excited her deeply.

"Now you're being honest, Daddy," she whispered, grazing her lips with his. "Now that you admitted you're my dog... I think it's time I reward you for being such a good boy."

Without warning, Yuna began to move her hand. It wasn't a fast movement, but a slow and torturous caress, sliding up and down the length of the member, squeezing the base and gliding with pressure toward the head, where she felt the pre-cum beginning to dampen the fabric of his pants.

Juno threw his head back, letting out a prolonged moan as his hips instinctively rose, seeking more friction against her hand. His hands gripped Yuna's wide hips tighter, sinking into her skin, while the sound of erratic breathing and gasps filled the room.

Yuna's hand began to move in a hypnotic rhythm, but still over the fabric of the pants. The sound was dry; the rubbing of the textile against the hardened cock created an unbearable tension. Juno had his eyes closed, clenching his teeth while his hips rose involuntarily, desperately seeking more pressure. Yuna watched him with a smile of superiority; she enjoyed seeing how this man, who was supposed to be the adult in the relationship, was reduced to a bundle of nerves and desire under her palm.

"You're so hard you're going to rip your pants, Daddy," she whispered, her voice dropping to a hiss. "But I don't want you to feel the fabric... I want to feel how your cock pulses against my skin."

With a quick but precise movement, Yuna slid down and unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper with a metallic sound that echoed in the silence of the room. When she pulled away the garment and the underwear, Juno's cock snapped outward with violent force, liberated from the pressure. It was red, swollen, and glistening with the pre-cum already appearing at the tip. Veins were marked under the tight skin, throbbing to the beat of an accelerated heart.

Yuna stayed for a moment simply looking at it. The sight of that thick, hot member excited her deeply. She put her hand to her mouth, spat a generous amount of saliva into her palm, and then spread it over the shaft of the cock, wrapping it firmly.

The first movement was slow. *Shlip... shlap...* The wet sound of saliva mixing with skin began to fill the room. Yuna squeezed the base and slid her hand to the head, where moisture accumulated, making the glide fluid and slippery. Juno let out a long, deep moan—a sound born from the depths of his throat—while his hands sank into Yuna's wide hips, squeezing the firm flesh in desperation.

"Look at me, Daddy," she ordered.

Juno opened his eyes, clouded by lust. From his position, he had a privileged view: Yuna's tits swaying gently with the rhythm of her arm, and that slender neck arching while she concentrated on jerking him off. But the most hypnotic part was seeing how her hips moved slightly; every time she moved her hand up, Yuna's round ass tightened against the sheets, creating an image of pure obscenity.

Yuna accelerated the pace. They were no longer slow caresses, but fast and firm strokes with her hand. The *shlip-shlap* sound became more erratic and louder. Juno was on the edge; his entire body trembled, and his moans were no longer words, but animal grunts.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?" she asked in a hoarse voice. "Do you like knowing that I'm the one in control of your pleasure?"

Without stopping her hand, Yuna began to descend. She slid slowly down Juno's body, moving down his abdomen while her tits brushed against his hot skin. The movement caused her round, firm ass to slide downward, moving with a feline grace until her face was mere centimeters from the throbbing cock.

Juno held his breath. The anticipation was so strong he felt like he might choke. He saw Yuna looking up at him, eyes shining and tongue moistening her own lips. The contrast between her delicate face and the brutality of the cock in front of her was an almost violent image.

Yuna didn't dive in immediately. First, she used the tip of her tongue to lick the drop of pre-cum glistening on the head of the member. It was a light, electric touch that made Juno arch his back and let out a stifled cry. Then, with a torturous slowness, she opened her mouth and wrapped the tip with her lips, sucking hard while her eyes remained locked onto his.

Yuna wasn't satisfied with a simple touch. Once she felt the violent pulsation of the cock against her tongue, she decided to swallow it all. She opened her mouth as wide as possible and, with a slow and deliberate movement, sank the member until the base hit her lips. She let out a muffled sound, a deep *glup* that echoed in her throat, while her eyes dilated feeling him filling her entire oral space.

Juno let out an animal scream, a muffled roar that shook his whole torso. His hands, desperate, no longer just gripped Yuna's hips; they lowered to her buttocks, digging fingers into the round, firm flesh of her ass, squeezing with a force that would surely leave marks. The contrast was obscene: Yuna's slender body, kneeling between his legs, being consumed by the brutal erection of a man who no longer had any shred of control.

Yuna began to move with a voracious rhythm. *Slurp... glup... slurp...* The sound of suction was wet and constant, filling the silence of the room with a carnal and raw music. She didn't just go up and down; she used her tongue to circle the crown of the member, creating a vacuum that sucked blood toward the tip, making Juno's cock swell even more. Every time she went deep, her tits brushed his thighs, swaying with the rhythm of her head, while her wide hips shifted slightly on the sheets, maintaining that perfect balance between fragility and carnal power.

Juno was in a state of pure agony. He felt the wet, tight heat of Yuna's throat enveloping him like a hot press. The fact that it was her—his girlfriend's daughter—draining him this way acted as a fuel that accelerated his path to the precipice. His abs tightened to the limit, the veins in his neck stood out, and his breathing became a series of short, desperate gasps.

"Look at me..." Juno managed to articulate through grit teeth, his voice broken. "Yuna... I'm... fuck, I'm going to cum..."

Yuna didn't stop. On the contrary, hearing that he was on the edge, she accelerated the pace. Her cheeks sank from the force of the suction and her eyes locked onto his, sending a clear message: *don't you dare stop until I say so.* She used her hands to massage the base of the member while her mouth worked with frenetic intensity. The sound was now a chaos of fluids; the *shlap* of her lips against the skin and the constant *glup* of her throat swallowing air and pre-cum.

Suddenly, Juno's body went rigid as a rock. His fingers dug violently into Yuna's round ass, arching his back backward while an electric spasm ran through his entire spine.

"Ahhh... fuck!" he screamed, a heartbreaking sound that broke the nocturnal silence.

In that instant, the first jet of cum shot out with violent force, impacting directly against the back of Yuna's throat. She didn't recoil a single millimeter. On the contrary, she tightened her lips further around the member and sucked hard, forcing every drop of the load into her mouth.

*Glup... glup... glup...*

Juno continued to pulse for several seconds, releasing thick, hot bursts that filled Yuna's oral cavity. She felt the salty, strong taste, the viscous texture, and the searing heat of the cum sliding down her throat. She didn't let a single drop fall; she made sure to absorb it all, enjoying the feeling of emptiness left in the man while she filled herself with his essence.

When the pulsations finally ceased, Yuna withdrew slowly. A thick, white string of cum remained suspended between her lips and the tip of Juno's cock, glistening under the dim lamp light before breaking and falling onto his chest.

Yuna didn't clean herself. She stayed there, kneeling, her gaze fixed on Juno, who lay on the bed totally exhausted, eyes lost and breathing erratic. She ran her tongue over her lips, savoring the remnants of the cum left at the corners of her mouth, and then swallowed with an audible sound, closing the cycle of power.

"Good boy, Daddy," she whispered, with a cold and victorious smile. "Now you know who you really belong to."

She stood up calmly, letting her wide hips sway as she walked away from the bed. The G-string still marked her round ass, which glistened for a moment before disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. She didn't look back; she knew Juno would stay there, empty and bewitched, processing the reality that he had just surrendered his will to the girl he should have protected.

The doll known as Nayeon sat before you, a teasing smile on her lips as she stared at you. She rubbed her legs together, already knowing what was to come. Her short black leather dress rode up, revealing her slick slit. The young woman before you didn’t bother to lower her dress; it would come off soon enough anyway. That and she knew the sight would be enough to make your cock stiff, and it was. “Already hard for me, Daddy?” She asks, teasing you once more. The little song and dance between the two of you was a classic. 

“Do me a favor?”

Nayeon licks her lips, eyes shifting from meeting your gaze to the bulge in your pants and back again. “What is it you want?” 

“Put that pretty mouth to good use.”

Nayeon chuckles; she didn’t have to be asked twice. “Daddy wants my pretty pink lips around his big, hard cock?” Nayeon asks, placing her hand over your bulge. Her tone was half mocking, half lustful. It was hard for her to resist you; even now, she felt a hunger within her. It was like her stomach was growling. 

“Don’t make me say it again,”

“Yes, sir,” Nayeon jokes as she kneels before you, her hands moving quickly to remove your clothes, showing her impatience. The moment your cock sprang free was one of joy, even as it smacked her face. Nayeon let it rest on her as she took in a deep whiff of your scent. It was like a drug for her. One hand made its way to her slit, rubbing her wet folds as she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. Nayeon’s tongue traced your veins as she made her way to the tip, her hand wrapped around your length. You groan at her tight grip, watching as the young woman reaches the head of your cock, flicking the tip with her tongue. Nayeon’s hand slowly moved along your shaft as she gathered her saliva, her glossy pink lips stealing your attention. They part slowly, small bubbles popping up between them before her saliva drips onto the tip. 

The young woman works her saliva across your cock, making it slick. While listening to your groans, she plants her full lips on the tip, tracing them with the head before slipping it inside. Nayeon keeps her lips tightly wrapped around your shaft as her tongue lashes against you. “Such a good girl,” you grunt. “You always know just what to do.”

“Pleasing Daddy is my job. I have to know what you like,” She says sweetly before returning to her work. Nayeon stares at you with big doe eyes as she bobs her head, taking more of your length with each turn. It would be cute if her act weren’t so lewd. You place your hand on her head, guiding her along, your cock settling into the back of her throat as she reaches your base. You can feel her throat vibrating around you; it amplifies the pleasure. You stare at Nayeon, watching as her lips curl upward. Even with your cock in her mouth, she can’t help but smile at her work. It certainly helped that her fingers were knuckle deep in her cunt. Nayeon continued to focus on you, her tongue snaking along the underside, following your veins as she pushed you closer to your orgasm. As Nayeon pulls away, strands of saliva keep the two of you connected. 

“Where are you going to cum? Maybe down my throat?” Nayeon licks her fingers before running them down to her chin. She tilts her head back and moves her hand lower. Then she tilts her head, “Or does Daddy want to cum on his baby's pretty face?” Nayeon smiles at that option. As much as she could drink your cum for days, there was something about facials that turned her on even more.

“We’ll see,”

The lack of a clear answer disappoints Nayeon, but she gets back to pleasuring you. Her heartbeat quickens. You wouldn’t disappoint her, right? She was certain you would paint her pretty face with your thick white seed. When Nayeon went back to your cock, she worked quickly, slobbering all over it, going as far as rubbing it against her cheeks, making it clear what she wanted as she dirtied her face. As you got closer to cumming, your target became clear. Spit was already making its way down Nayeon’s cheeks; it wouldn’t hurt to paint her pretty face. You hurry the process along, grabbing the back of Nayeon’s head and forcing your cock down her throat. You thrust your hips forward, making her gag on you as you hit the back of her throat. Nayeon doesn’t fight you; she places one hand on your thigh while the other works her clit furiously. She was getting off on your roughness, even as her mind considered you might deny her a facial. She could feel your cock throbbing; you were close. 

Moments before you came, you pulled out of Nayeon’s warm mouth. You jerked yourself off and began to paint your canvas. Nayeon felt the first spurt land across the bridge of her nose. The young woman tilted her head back, shut her eyes, and opened her mouth, making herself the perfect target. As more of your thick semen splattered across her face, Nayeon came. She pressed her legs together, trying to stay steady as you cover her eyelids and coat her forehead. You place the tip back into her open mouth, letting her taste the last spurt. Nayeon's tongue swirls around the tip as she savors your salty cum. As you take a step back to admire your work, Nayeon wipes the cum away from her eyes before turning towards a mirror, staring at her whorish appearance. She brings her fingers to her lips, tasting more of your cum. 

Before she can say a word, you pick the young woman up, carrying her bridal style to her bedroom. You toss her onto the bed, making her lie on her stomach as you unzip her dress and strip it off her. 

Nayeon rises onto all fours, “Do it, Daddy. Put that big juicy cock in me,” Nayeon cooed, one hand on her cheek, pulling it away from her core. She shook her ass for you, making the prospect even more tantalizing. You had had enough waiting; you brought your hand down on Nayeon’s ass, making her flesh ripple. Nayeon sucks in a breath, then expels it, letting out a loud moan as you drive yourself deep into her cunt. “Fuck,” she groans as you squeeze her soft cheek, your other hand wrapping around her hair, pulling it back. Nayeon’s legs shook as she felt you splitting apart her warm, slick folds. The pleasure was mind-numbing for the young woman. Considering she had been waiting for your arrival, this moment was nothing but pure bliss for her. You were practically being pulled in, and you had no complaints. “Oh, Daddy, you’re so big,” she mumbles, hands gripping the bedsheets tightly as she plants her face against the bed, her back arching deeply. You yank on her hair, keeping her head up, as you thrust into her welcoming cunt. Each one pushes her petite body further into the bed. You bring your hand down on her ass once more, the sting from your strike adding to her pleasure. 

“You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

“All fucking day. It’s your fault. I wouldn’t be like this if Daddy didn’t have such a good cock. It’s all I can think about.” Nayeon responds through heavy moans. You spank her again, her cheek turning a bright red as you add in a fourth strike. “I need it so bad, Daddy.” 

Nayeon slips her hand between her legs, her long fingers stroking her clit as you slide in and out of her tight, warm cavern. “Harder, fuck me harder,” Nayeon moans, tongue hanging out of her mouth as you bring your hand down on her ass again. As your thrusts speed up, Nayeon’s body tingle, pleasure coursing through her. As much as you want to keep pulling on her hair, you gave up your grip on it. You place your hands on her waist; each movement from you fills the room with more moans from the young woman. Nayeon bites the bedding, muffling her moans a touch as her climax builds inside her. Feeling the pressure building within her, Nayeon grabs the sheets. Any more pleasure with her fingers would send her over the edge too quickly, and while she knew you’d keep going anyway, she didn’t want to be driven crazy with the overstimulation. At least not yet.

Nayeon’s attempts to keep herself from cumming too quickly were useless; your fingers replaced her, rubbing her aching clit as your thrust continued to fill her. Nayeon whined in her high-pitched voice, taking over as she got closer. You stretch your arm out, your fingers by her plump lips. You push your fingers past the barrier, hooking her mouth. Nayeon uses what little strength she has to push herself up. You feel her tongue lashing against your fingers as her walls tighten around you. “Go on, cum. I know you’re already close. Daddy is giving you permission.”

Nayeon cries out, her body shuddering as she cums on your cock. Her walls squeeze you like a vice as you continue to impale her with every thrust. “Oh God,” Nayeon says in a long, drawn-out moan. The pleasure she feels reaches a new peak as she’s overstimulated. The fingers around her clit speed up, making her body tense up as another orgasm begins building. You add to the pleasure, bringing your hand out of her mouth and playing with her modest mounds. You pinch and pull at Nayeon’s soft nipples, feeling them grow hard as you play with them. “D-daddy,” Nayeon mumbles, unable to say anything more as you tug on the now hard nub. “Ooh, fuck.” Nayeon's breathing is ragged; she shuts her eyes tightly as a second climax washes over her. Her cries of pleasure are music to your ears.  

You pull Nayeon against you, continuing to play with her body as you near your climax. Nayeon’s walls try to milk you, squeezing you tightly. You shift your hands to her waist, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you bury yourself inside Nayeon. The young woman cries out again as she feels your warm, thick cum spurting into her, painting her walls as you claim her. Nayeon falls forward, collapsing onto the bed as she feels your semen flooding her body, its warmth spreading slowly. “You get tired so quickly, baby.”

“It’s your fault.” Nayeon huffs, trying to catch her breath as you give her small thrusts. “Y-you’re too much.” Nayeon’s voice goes into a high whine as you bury yourself in her again. You turn the young woman onto her side and lean over her, pressing your lips against hers. “Don’t try to act sweet now,” she mumbles between kisses. “You just fucked me like a piece of meat.” Nayeon’s body shivers as your hand wanders along her back. You nip at Nayeon’s neck as you drag your fingertips along her back. 

“You love it.” Nayeon did; she loved every second of it. She avoids your gaze, “Think you can go one more round?”

“Mm, one more,” Nayeon says, raising a single finger. “Just one more!” Nayeon moans as you rapidly plunge back into the depths of her cunt. “Fuck, just like that.” Nayeon’s slick walls offer little resistance, allowing you to slide deep into her with ease. With her legs pressed together, the pressure you feel is greater. You put more strength into your thrusts. Nayeon’s body starts to lurch forward, her moans growing louder as she feels you reaching her depths. You grab onto one of her arms, pulling her back as you continue to ravage her. Nayeon’s high-pitched whines begin to crescendo as she nears her climax. You lean forward, stealing a kiss from the young woman. She doesn’t resist, can’t resist, and wouldn’t resist in this moment. She wanted you as much as you wanted her. Your tongues fold and press against each other as you give one final thrust, burying your throbbing cock inside Nayeon.

Nayeon’s body tenses, her senses overwhelmed as she feels you flooding her womb with another load of cum. She cums with you, her nectar coating your cock and leaking onto the bedding below. When you break the kiss, she lets out a long, contented sigh. Nayeon’s hands find a place on her chest, squeezing the soft mounds as she revels in the pleasure of her latest orgasm. You drag your length out of Nayeon slowly, her walls still gripping you tightly. “Looks like you still want more.”

Lower down, matching leopard-print bottoms hugged her hips, held in place by an elaborate wide belt studded with oversized circular metal plates. Some glowing rose-gold, others deep bronze with intricate patterns that caught every flicker of light and accentuated the dramatic curve of her waist. Thick, fluffy brown cuffs wrapped around her upper thighs like luxurious leg warmers, contrasting sharply with the sleek black knee-high socks peeking out beneath. The whole look screaming raw, untamed sensuality that matched the fierce choreography she’d just delivered.

Her dark hair, once styled in sultry waves for the opening numbers, now hung in damp, tousled strands that framed her face and stuck to the flushed skin of her neck and shoulders. The bold stage makeup had softened in all the right ways—the crimson lipstick from the final chorus now faintly smudged at the corners, her sharp winged liner slightly blurred from the heat, giving her cat-like eyes an even more intense, almost predatory depth. A tiny headset microphone still curved along her cheek, the wire disappearing behind her ear, a lingering reminder of the way her voice had filled the dome moments ago. Tiny droplets of sweat traced slow paths along her jawline, down the elegant column of her throat, and across the exposed skin above the leopard bra, catching the light like tiny diamonds. She looked every bit the idol who had just owned the stage exhausted, exhilarated, and radiating that unmistakable post-performance glow that made her impossible to look away from.

The hallway pulsed with the usual post-show whirlwind: staff members weaving through with headsets crackling, stylists rushing by with garment racks and touch-up kits, the other members laughing and chattering further down the corridor as they peeled off their own costumes. Yet Momo moved through the chaos like she existed in her own private spotlight, the metal discs on her belt jingling softly with each step, the fur on her thighs brushing against her skin in a way that only heightened the lingering adrenaline. Her eyes scanned the familiar faces until they found you, exactly where she knew you’d be—leaning against the green-room doorframe, her favorite oversized black hoodie draped over your arm and a chilled bottle of her favorite electrolyte drink in your hand, condensation already beading on the plastic.

The moment her gaze locked onto yours, that tired but wicked little smile curved her lips—the one she saved only for you, the one that promised the stage version of Momo was about to give way to the real one. She didn’t slow down. Instead she closed the distance with deliberate, swaying steps, the leopard-print fabric of her top shifting enticingly with each breath, the decorative belt catching the light and drawing your eyes exactly where she wanted them. When she reached you, she didn’t stop at a polite distance. She stepped right into your space, the heat radiating from her overheated body enveloping you instantly. The sheer mesh top brushed against your shirt, damp and warm, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the faint tremor in her shoulders from muscles that had worked overtime for hours. The scent of her wrapped around you—vanilla body lotion mixed with clean stage sweat, cherry gloss, and the faintest trace of the smoky stage effects that still clung to her skin.

“Tokyo never lets me down,” she murmured, her voice low and slightly hoarse from singing through the entire setlist, that soft Japanese accent wrapping around the words like velvet. Her fingers grazed your forearm as she reached for the water bottle, but she didn’t take it immediately. Instead she let her touch linger, tracing a slow, absent circle against your skin while her dark eyes held yours without blinking. “The way the crowd screamed during that last unit stage… I could feel it in my bones. Still can.” She tilted her head slightly, messy strands of hair falling across one eye as she added, her breath warm against your ear, “And you standing here like this, waiting for me every single night? Makes it so hard to come down from the high.”

She bit the inside of her lower lip lightly, the motion drawing attention to the faint smudge of lipstick and the way her chest still heaved from the aftereffects of the performance. For a heartbeat she looked almost vulnerable—beautifully undone, skin glistening, fur cuffs slightly askew from the final bows—but then that familiar spark returned, the playful confidence that always surfaced when the two of you were finally alone. Her hand slipped lower, fingers wrapping around your wrist with a grip that was firm yet gentle, still slightly slick from the stage. Without another word she tugged you toward the green-room door, the metal plates on her belt chiming softly as she moved.

The heavy door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the hallway noise until only the quiet whir of the air-conditioning unit and the distant murmur of staff remained. Inside, the green room was bathed in the soft golden glow of a single vanity lamp left on by the stylists. Makeup palettes, half-empty water bottles, and scattered hair tools covered the counter like colorful aftermath. The floor-to-ceiling mirror on the opposite wall reflected the glittering Tokyo skyline through the tall window, a serene contrast to the storm of energy that had just ended inside the Dome. Momo finally released your wrist but didn’t step away. Instead she leaned back against the edge of the counter, palms braced on either side of her hips, the motion causing the sheer mesh top to pull taut across her chest and the leopard bra beneath to shift invitingly. The decorative belt sat low on her hips, the metal discs cool against her flushed skin, while the fluffy fur cuffs framed her thighs like an invitation.

She let her head tilt back for a moment, exposing the long, glistening line of her throat as she drew in a slow, deep breath. Beads of sweat still traced lazy paths down her neck and disappeared into the shadows beneath the fabric. When she straightened again, her gaze had changed—darker, heavier, the post-concert adrenaline still crackling through her veins like electricity that refused to dissipate. Her eyes raked over you slowly, deliberately, the corners of her mouth lifting into that signature half-smile that always made your pulse jump.

The silence stretched between you, charged and intentional, the only sound the faint jingle of her belt as she shifted her weight. She could feel the high still burning bright inside her—the same rush that had made her perform like the stage belonged to her alone—and being alone with you in this quiet, dimly lit room only seemed to fan the flames higher.

Her voice came out soft, but there was no mistaking the commanding edge beneath it, the same tone she used to call out formations during rehearsal when she wanted everyone’s full attention.

“Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate. The moment the word left her lips—low, velvet-wrapped, impossible to ignore—you crossed the short distance between you in two unhurried steps, the soft click of your shoes against the tiled floor the only sound besides the steady hum of the air conditioner. Momo’s dark eyes tracked your approach like a predator watching prey that had willingly walked into her territory, that half-smile deepening until it was a pure, wicked invitation. When you reached her, she straightened from her lean against the counter just enough to meet you halfway, her body still radiating heat from the stage like a furnace that refused to cool.

Your hands found her waist first, fingers sliding over the cool metal discs of her belt before digging into the warm, damp skin just above it. Hers came up instantly, one tangling in the front of your shirt, the other cupping the back of your neck with surprising strength, pulling you down to her. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was starving—mouths crashing together in a hot, open-mouthed mess of lips and tongue and shared breath. She tasted like cherry gloss and salt and the faint sweetness of the electrolyte drink she’d stolen a sip of earlier. A soft, needy sound vibrated from her throat into yours as she tilted her head, deepening the angle, her tongue sliding against yours in slow, filthy strokes that made your knees feel unsteady.

You pressed her back against the counter, bodies flush now, and her legs parted just enough for you to slot between them. The fluffy fur cuffs around her thighs brushed teasingly against your hips as your hands began their journey—roaming, claiming, memorizing. One palm skimmed up the bare expanse of her midriff, feeling the way her abs fluttered under your touch, then higher, tracing the edge of the sheer mesh top where it clung to the curve of her breasts. The other hand slid down to grip the back of her thigh, right where the fur met smooth skin, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp into the kiss. She wasn’t shy either. Her fingers raked down your chest, nails scraping lightly over fabric before slipping under the hem of your shirt to find bare skin. She explored every inch she could reach—your sides, your back, the dip of your spine—while her other hand stayed buried in your hair, tugging just hard enough to send sparks down your neck.

You broke the kiss only to drag your mouth along her jaw, tasting the salt of her sweat, then lower to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “We’ve got time,” you murmured against her skin, voice rough. “All the time we need tonight. No one’s coming in. No schedule. Just you and me… and I’m not letting you rush a single second of this.”

Momo let out a breathy laugh that turned into a moan when your teeth grazed her pulse point. “Good,” she whispered, the word half-swallowed by another hungry kiss she pulled you back into. “Because I don’t want to be quick. Not after that stage. Not with you.” Her hands grew bolder, sliding up under your shirt to map the planes of your chest and stomach, fingertips pressing into muscle like she was memorizing the feel of you. You answered by sliding both palms up her back, feeling the damp fabric of the mesh top shift under your touch, then down again to cup her ass through the leopard-print bottoms, pulling her harder against you. The metal belt dug into your lower stomach, cool and heavy, a sharp contrast to the burning heat of her body.

The makeout turned messier, wetter—lips sliding, tongues tangling, little nips and sucks that left her lipstick even more ruined and your mouth tingling. You swallowed every sound she made: the soft whimpers when your thumb brushed the underside of her breast through the layers, the sharp inhale when you squeezed the plush flesh of her thigh. Her hips rolled against you instinctively, chasing friction, the decorative plates on her belt jingling softly with the motion. One of her hands slipped lower, palming you through your pants with zero hesitation, while the other tugged at the collar of your shirt, demanding you closer.

You pulled back just far enough to look at her—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes half-lidded and gleaming with that same post-concert fire. “Let me take this off you,” you said, voice low, fingers already hooking under the hem of the sheer mesh crop top. She nodded once, biting her lower lip again, and lifted her arms without protest. You peeled the top upward slowly, savoring every inch of revealed skin: the way the fabric clung stubbornly to her damp curves before giving way, the leopard bra coming into full view, black mesh and spots stretched tight over her breasts. You tossed the top aside onto the counter, then let your hands glide back down her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts before tracing the line of her ribs.

Next came the belt. You unbuckled it with deliberate care, the heavy metal warm now from her body heat, and let it slide free with a soft clatter onto the floor. The leopard-print bottoms followed, but not quickly—you hooked your fingers into the waistband and dragged them down her hips inch by inch, dropping to one knee so you could kiss the newly exposed skin of her stomach, her hip bones, the top of one thigh where the fur cuff began. She shivered visibly, one hand resting on your shoulder for balance as you worked the fabric lower, past her knees, until she could step out of it. The black knee-high socks stayed for now—you wanted to leave something on her a little longer.

Momo watched you the entire time, chest rising and falling faster, that commanding spark still in her eyes even as she let you undress her. When you stood again, she didn’t give you a chance to speak. Her hands were on you immediately, mirroring your patience but with a hungry edge. She tugged your shirt up and over your head, nails scraping lightly down your chest the moment it was gone. Then came your pants—she popped the button, dragged the zipper down slowly, eyes locked on yours the whole time, and pushed everything down your legs until you kicked them aside. Her palms roamed freely now over your newly bared skin, tracing every line, every muscle, squeezing and teasing as she pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down your sternum.

“You’re mine tonight,” she breathed against your skin between kisses, voice husky and full of promise. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear next, sliding them down with the same torturous slowness you’d used on her. “All of you. And I’m going to take my time too.”

By the time the last piece of clothing hit the floor, the green room felt ten degrees hotter. The mirror across the room reflected everything back at you—her almost completely bare except for the black knee-high socks and the fluffy fur cuffs still hugging her thighs, your bodies pressed close, skin flushed and marked by wandering hands and eager mouths. Momo’s fingers traced lazy patterns down your back as she pulled you in for another deep, lingering kiss, slower this time but no less intense, like she was savoring the fact that the night was only just beginning.

The kiss stretched on like it had nowhere else to go, slow and deep and utterly consuming. Your mouths moved together in a lazy, heated rhythm now—less frantic than the first collision but no less desperate. Momo’s tongue traced the seam of your lips before slipping back inside, coaxing yours into a slick dance that made your pulse thunder in your ears. She tasted like salt and cherry and pure want, her breath hitching every time you angled your head just right and sucked on her lower lip. One of her hands stayed tangled in your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp in time with each stroke of her tongue, while the other roamed lower, mapping the curve of your spine, the dip at the small of your back, then sliding around to press flat against your stomach like she needed to feel the way your muscles tensed under her touch.

You answered in kind, hands never still—gliding up the bare, sweat-damp length of her back, fingertips tracing the delicate knobs of her spine before dipping lower to cup the perfect swell of her ass. You squeezed, pulling her tighter against you, and she rewarded you with a soft, broken moan that vibrated straight into your mouth. Her fluffy fur cuffs brushed teasingly against your thighs every time she shifted, the contrast of soft plush and her burning skin driving you a little crazier. She rocked her hips forward in a slow grind, the heat between her legs pressing against your thigh, and you could feel how wet she already was, how the leftover adrenaline from the stage had turned her body into something electric and insatiable.

You broke away just enough to drag open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down the elegant column of her throat, tasting the faint sheen of sweat that still clung there from the encore. “Fuck, Momo… you’re still so worked up,” you murmured against her pulse point, voice rough and low. “I can feel your heart racing like you’re still out there under the lights.”

She let out a breathy laugh that melted into a whimper when your teeth grazed her collarbone. “Because I am,” she whispered, tilting her head to give you better access. Her fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your mouth back up to hers for another long, filthy kiss. “That stage… the way they screamed my name… it’s still buzzing under my skin. But this—” She nipped at your bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue. “This is what I’ve been thinking about since the final bow. Just you. Just us. No cameras. No choreo. Just… this.”

The kiss deepened again, wet and messy and perfect. Tongues sliding, lips sliding, breaths mingling until the room felt ten degrees hotter. Your hands explored every inch of her—cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples, then sliding down the flat plane of her stomach to the flare of her hips. She mirrored you, palms dragging down your chest, nails scraping lightly over your abs before wrapping around your already aching length. She didn’t stroke yet—just held you, feeling you throb in her grip, a teasing promise that made you groan into her mouth.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of shared heat and wandering hands, she pulled back. Her lips were swollen and shiny, eyes dark and heavy-lidded with lust. A thin string of saliva connected you for half a second before it broke. She looked up at you through her lashes, that signature Momo smirk playing at the corners of her mouth—the same one she flashed at the crowd during her solo spot, only this time it was all for you.

Without a word, she slid her body down against yours in one fluid, deliberate motion. Her breasts dragged along your chest, nipples grazing your skin, then her stomach, then the soft fur of her thigh cuffs brushing your thighs as she sank gracefully to her knees on the cool tiled floor. The vanity light caught every angle of her—flushed cheeks, messy dark hair falling around her shoulders, leopard-print remnants of the stage look still somehow making her look like the sexiest woman alive even half-undressed. Her face hovered right in front of your cock, so close you could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over the sensitive head.

One of her hands came up, delicate fingers wrapping around the base with a firm, confident grip. She gave you a slow, luxurious pump from root to tip, thumb swiping over the slit to spread the bead of precum that had already gathered there. “Look at you,” she murmured, voice husky and teasing, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “So hard for me already… after just kissing? I must’ve really put on a show tonight, huh?” Another slow stroke, tighter this time, twisting just a little at the head. “Or maybe it’s the outfit. You liked the fur, didn’t you? Felt it against you the whole time I was grinding on stage in my head.”

She tilted her head slightly, then leaned the thick length upward with her hand, exposing the underside. Her face moved forward, dark eyes never leaving yours as she dragged her tongue in one long, slow, wet stripe from the very base all the way up to the tip. The flat of her tongue was hot and silky, pressing firmly along the throbbing vein, collecting every drop of precum and the faint salt of your skin. She lingered at the head, swirling once, twice, before pulling back just enough for you to see the glossy sheen she’d left behind.

“Mmm… tastes even better than I imagined,” she breathed, the words vibrating against you. Her free hand rested on your thigh, nails digging in lightly for balance as she leaned in again. She wasted no time now—lips parting as she took the swollen head into her mouth, enveloping it in wet heat. Her tongue worked expertly, swirling around the sensitive ridge, flicking against the slit, sucking with just the right pressure while her hand continued those slow, steady pumps along the shaft. She treated it like it was the only thing in the world that mattered—humming softly around you, the vibration shooting straight down your spine, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed shallowly, taking a little more each time.

You watched her through half-lidded eyes, one hand threading gently into her messy hair, the other braced against the counter behind her. “God, Momo… your mouth feels incredible,” you groaned, thumb brushing her cheek. “Don’t stop… just like that.”

She hummed again in response, the sound turning into a pleased little moan. Then, without warning, she sank down further—taking you deeper, inch by inch, until the head nudged the back of her throat. She held there for a few long, breathtaking seconds, throat fluttering around you, eyes watering slightly but still locked on yours with that fierce, determined spark. Her lips stretched wide around your length, the warmth and tightness almost overwhelming.

But then her gag reflex kicked in—her throat constricting suddenly, a soft, wet choke vibrating around you as her eyes fluttered. She didn’t pull off right away, though. She stayed there just a moment longer, letting you feel the way her throat spasmed, before easing back with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to your glistening cock. Her chest heaved, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean as she looked up at you with a mix of pride and raw hunger.

“Too much?” she asked breathlessly, voice raspy, a wicked little smile tugging at her lips even as she stroked you slowly again. “Or do you want me to try that again…?”

You threaded your fingers through her damp hair, not guiding yet, just holding. “Keep going….” you murmured, voice rough. “I want to hear every sound you make when you take me deeper. Let me hear you choke on it. Gag for me, baby. I know you can.”

Momo’s eyes flashed with pure heat at the words. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pull back for air or permission. In one smooth, determined glide she sank down until her nose pressed against your stomach, taking every inch until her throat fluttered and convulsed around you. The wet, obscene sound that ripped from her was everything you’d asked for—raw, desperate, a choked gag that made her eyes water instantly. But she didn’t stop. Her throat tightened rhythmically, muscles working hard to swallow around the intrusion, and the wet, gagging noises only grew louder as she fought her own reflex. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, smudging the liner even more, but she kept her gaze locked on yours, defiant and needy all at once.

She pulled back just enough to gasp in a ragged breath, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to your cock, before she dove down again—deeper this time, if that was even possible. Her throat spasmed violently around you, the sound wet and filthy, a broken gag that vibrated through her whole body. Her hands gripped your thighs, nails digging in through your pants as she held herself there, fighting the urge to pull away. Saliva dripped down her chin, onto the leopard bra, making the fabric glisten. She bobbed her head in short, forceful motions, each one forcing another choked noise from her stuffed throat—gurgles and wet clicks and desperate little whimpers that only made her push harder.

You could feel the way her throat squeezed and released, the tight heat milking you as she battled her gag reflex and won every single time. Her cheeks hollowed with effort, tears now slipping freely down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the sweat still beading along her jaw. The fluffy cuffs on her thighs shifted as she rocked on her knees, ass swaying slightly behind her, the wide belt jingling softly with every bob of her head. She was a mess—makeup ruined, hair sticking to her damp skin, lips stretched obscenely around you—but she looked more alive than she had under the Tokyo Dome lights. Every gag, every wet choke, every muffled moan told you she was loving this just as much as you were.

You kept talking to her, low and steady, praising the way she took it, telling her how perfect she sounded falling apart on your cock. She responded by pushing even further, nose buried tight against you again, throat convulsing in long, rolling waves that had your hips twitching despite yourself. The sounds filled the green room—obscene, slick, utterly unrestrained. Her breathing came in sharp, desperate snorts through her nose whenever she managed a fraction of air, but she never once tapped out. She just kept working you, tongue swirling on the underside when she could, throat fluttering wildly when she couldn’t.

Minutes stretched like that—her on her knees, gagging and choking and moaning around you, eyes glassy but still burning with that fierce, unyielding hunger. The mirror showed it all in perfect, filthy detail: the way her back arched, the way her leopard-print top clung to her heaving chest, the way her thighs pressed together under those fur cuffs like she was just as turned on as you were.

Finally, when her throat had gone hoarse from the effort and her cheeks were streaked with tears and saliva, Momo pulled off with a long, wet pop. She sat back on her heels, gasping, chest rising and falling rapidly. Strands of spit still connected her lips to you, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing it across her chin. Her voice came out wrecked, raspy and low. “Fuck… you taste so good when you’re this hard for me.”

She rose slowly, legs steady despite the tremble in her thighs, and pressed her body against yours again. One hand roamed up your chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle beneath your shirt, nails scraping lightly over your collarbone. The other hand wrapped around your slick cock, stroking it lazily, rubbing the wet head slowly back and forth across her plump lower lip like she was savoring the taste. Her breath ghosted hot against your ear as she leaned in, voice a sultry whisper.

“Tell me,” she breathed, lips brushing your earlobe, “which hole do you want to wreck first? I’m aching for you… pick whichever one you’re going to ruin tonight.”

You answered without missing a beat, voice low and rough from the pleasure she’d just given you. “I’ll choose the one you want me to make sore. The one that’s going to be aching for days after I’m done with it.”

Momo let out a soft, throaty chuckle that vibrated against your neck. She pulled back just enough for you to see the wicked sparkle in her eyes, the way her swollen lips curved into a knowing smirk. Without another word she stepped away, hips swaying with that signature dancer’s grace, the metal plates on her belt chiming like a promise. She turned toward the far wall, the one lined with mirrors and the glittering Tokyo skyline beyond the window, and planted her hands flat against it. She arched her back deeply, pushing her ass out toward you, the leopard-print bottoms riding up just enough to show the perfect curve of her cheeks.

She glanced over her shoulder at you, hair falling messily across one eye, that same predatory smile playing on her lips. “Then you already know exactly which one I need you to make sore,” she purred, voice still hoarse from the way she’d just choked on you. She gave her hips a slow, deliberate wiggle, the fluffy cuffs shifting on her thighs, the belt discs catching the low light. “Come on… make it hurt so good I feel you every time I move on stage tomorrow.”

Your footsteps echoed softly across the green-room floor, the low hum of the distant arena lights still buzzing faintly through the walls like leftover adrenaline from the show. Momo stayed exactly where she was—palms pressed flat to the cool mirrored surface, back arched in that perfect, practiced curve, ass presented like an offering she’d been dying to give all night. The leopard-print bottoms had ridden up high between her cheeks from the way she was bent, the fluffy brown cuffs on her thighs framing the sight perfectly. Her belt discs dangled and chimed with every tiny shift of her weight, catching the low light and throwing tiny sparks across the room. You could see her reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, ruined makeup, lips still glossy from the mess she’d made of you earlier, eyes locked on yours with that hungry, challenging stare.

You closed the distance slowly, deliberately, one hand already wrapped around your cock—still slick and throbbing from her throat, veins standing out from how hard she’d worked you. The heat of your palm felt almost too much against your own skin after the cool air, but you stroked once, twice, just to feel the weight of it, the way it jumped in your grip at the sight of her waiting. She watched every step in the mirror, hips giving another teasing little wiggle that made the belt jingle louder.

When you were right behind her, close enough that the head of your cock brushed the warm curve of her ass, you tapped it against one cheek—firm, deliberate, the wet slap echoing sharply in the quiet room. Then the other cheek, letting the heavy length rest there for a second before lifting and tapping again, harder this time, watching the soft flesh ripple under the impact.

Momo let out a breathy laugh that turned into a low moan, pushing back against the taps like she couldn’t help herself. “Mmm… you’re teasing me now?” she purred, voice still rough and wrecked from choking on you. Her eyes never left yours in the reflection. “After I just gagged myself stupid for you? Come on, baby… I can feel how hard you are. That cock’s been dripping since I was on my knees. Don’t make me beg… or do. I don’t care which.”

You tapped again, right between her cheeks this time, letting the swollen head drag slowly up and down the cleft, spreading the wetness from her own spit and your pre-cum over her skin. “You’re the one who bent over like this,” you murmured, voice low and rough. “Ass up, legs spread, looking like you need it more than air. Tell me again—what hole am I supposed to make sore tonight? The one that’s going to have you walking funny on stage tomorrow?”

She bit her lower lip, eyes fluttering for a second as another tap landed, this one right against her tight little hole. A shiver ran down her spine, visible in the mirror, and her thighs pressed together under those fluffy cuffs. “You already know,” she whispered, voice dropping into that husky stage-whisper she used when she was trying to drive you insane. “The one I’ve been clenching just thinking about since the encore. The one that’s going to stretch so fucking good around you… Make it burn, make it ache. I want to feel you for days every time I hit a high note.”

You kept the taps coming—light, rhythmic slaps that made her ass jiggle and the belt chime like some filthy little melody. “Yeah? You want it raw? No warming up? Just me splitting you open the second I decide you’re ready?”

Momo’s breath hitched, her fingers curling against the mirror like she was fighting the urge to reach back and pull you in herself. “God, yes. Stop playing and—fuck—”

You didn’t let her finish the sentence.

In one smooth, powerful motion you lined up and thrust forward, burying every thick inch straight into her tight asshole without a single pause. The sudden stretch ripped a sharp, broken cry from her throat—half gasp, half moan—as her body clenched hard around the invasion. She was scorching hot inside, velvet-tight and gripping you like she never wanted to let go, the ring of muscle fluttering wildly as it tried to adjust to the abrupt fullness. You didn’t give her time to breathe; you just kept pushing until your hips were flush against her ass, buried to the hilt, the base of your cock pressed tight against her.

“Fuuuuck—!” Momo’s voice cracked, forehead dropping against the mirror with a soft thud. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second, then snapped open again, wide and glassy in the reflection. “Yes… just like that. So deep already… shit, you’re so big like this.”

You stayed buried for a long, throbbing moment, letting her feel every inch, letting the burn settle into something hotter, wetter. Her walls rippled and squeezed around you in rhythmic pulses, milking you instinctively even as she panted through the stretch. One of your hands slid up her back, fingers tracing the line of her spine before tangling in her damp hair. You gave a light tug, pulling her head back just enough so she had to watch herself in the mirror—watch the way her mouth fell open, the way her tits pressed against the cool glass through the sheer mesh top, nipples hard and visible.

“Look at you,” you growled against her ear, hips grinding in tiny circles that made the belt discs rattle softly. “Taking it all in one go. Such a greedy little hole.”

She let out a shaky laugh that dissolved into a whimper when you started to move—slow, deep drags at first, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in, letting her feel the drag, the way her body opened up around you. Every thrust made her ass cheeks ripple, the leopard fabric of her bottoms bunched uselessly to the side now, the fluffy cuffs brushing your thighs as she widened her stance a little more. The wet, filthy sound of skin meeting skin started to fill the room, mixed with her breathy moans and the constant soft jingle of her belt.

Momo pushed back to meet you on the next thrust, rolling her hips in that perfect dancer’s rhythm, taking you even deeper. “Harder,” she gasped, voice hoarse. “Don’t be gentle—I can take it. Ruin it. I want bruises from your hips tomorrow.”

You gave her exactly what she asked for, picking up the pace, snapping your hips forward with more force. The slap of your body against hers grew louder, sharper. Your free hand came down on one ass cheek in a firm smack, watching the skin bloom pink under your palm. She moaned louder at that, clenching around you so tight it made stars flicker behind your eyes. Another smack, then a soothing rub, then another thrust that punched the air out of her lungs.

The mirror gave you everything—the way her back arched deeper with every stroke, the way her hair fell messily across her face, the way her lips stayed parted in a constant stream of broken curses and pleas in that wrecked, sexy voice. Sweat was starting to bead along her spine again, mixing with the remnants of stage glitter that still clung to her skin. You leaned over her, chest pressing to her back, one arm wrapping around her waist to hold her steady while the other kept its grip in her hair.

You kept the rhythm relentless but controlled—long, punishing strokes that dragged against every sensitive inch inside her, angling just right to make her cry out every time you bottomed out. Her asshole fluttered and squeezed around you in waves, the heat and pressure almost overwhelming, but you held back, savoring the way she fell apart instead of chasing your own edge. Momo’s hand left the mirror to reach back, nails digging into your thigh, urging you on.

“More—fuck, right there,” she panted, voice breaking on a particularly deep thrust. “You’re so deep… I can feel you in my stomach. Don’t stop… make me yours.”

You switched it up then, pulling her hips back a little more, changing the angle so every thrust hit even harder, faster. The room filled with the wet sounds of you fucking into her, her moans turning into high, needy whines that echoed off the mirrors. Her thighs trembled under the fluffy cuffs, but she kept pushing back, meeting you thrust for thrust like the performer she was—giving everything, demanding everything in return.

You could feel her getting closer, her walls starting to pulse in that telltale way, but you weren’t done playing yet. You slowed again, grinding deep and dirty, letting her feel you throb inside her without letting either of you tip over. Your hand slid down between her legs, fingers teasing along the edge of her soaked leopard bottoms, brushing her clit just enough to make her jolt and clench even tighter around your cock.

Momo’s head fell back against your shoulder with a desperate sound. “You’re evil… teasing me while you’re balls-deep in my ass. I love it. Keep going—use me however you want. I’m not tapping out tonight.”

Your hips snapped forward again, the wet slap of skin on skin ringing out sharper than before as you drove deeper into her. Momo’s breath fogged the mirror in front of her, her palms squeaking faintly against the glass every time you bottomed out. The leopard-print bottoms were completely shoved aside now, the fluffy brown cuffs on her thighs trembling with each punishing thrust. Her belt discs clattered wildly, a chaotic metallic rhythm that mixed with the obscene, slick sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her tight asshole.

She was clenching around you harder than ever, velvet heat rippling in waves that made your vision blur at the edges. You could feel every flutter, every desperate squeeze as her body fought to pull you even deeper. Sweat trickled down the curve of her spine, catching the low light and making her skin glow. You leaned over her completely, chest pressed to her back, one arm banded tight around her waist while your other hand slid down between her legs. Your fingers found her soaked folds through the thin fabric and rubbed firm circles over her clit, matching the brutal pace of your hips.

“Fuck—yes, right there,” Momo gasped, voice cracking into a broken whine. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, pupils blown wide, mascara streaks painting dark rivers down her flushed cheeks. “Don’t stop… I’m so close already. You’re wrecking me so good—ahh!”

You growled against the side of her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there before you bit down just hard enough to make her jolt. “That’s it, baby. Let me feel you fall apart with my cock buried in your ass. I want to feel this greedy little hole milk me when you cum.”

The added pressure on her clit sent her spiraling. Her thighs shook violently under the fluffy cuffs, knees threatening to buckle as she pushed back desperately to meet every thrust. The mirror showed it all in filthy high definition: her mouth open in a silent scream, tits bouncing inside the sheer mesh top with each impact, the way her ass rippled every time your hips slammed home. You kept the angle perfect, dragging against that spot inside her that made her voice climb higher and higher until it shattered.

Momo came with a guttural cry that echoed through the green room, her entire body locking up around you. Her asshole clenched down like a vice, pulsing in long, powerful waves that tried to pull you over the edge right then and there. Hot, slick wetness flooded your fingers as she soaked through the leopard fabric, thighs quivering uncontrollably. She kept moaning through it, high and needy, pushing back even as her orgasm tore through her like a second encore.

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you fucked her harder through her climax, chasing the way her walls fluttered and squeezed around your throbbing length. The pressure was building fast now—tight, electric, coiling low in your gut with every wet slide. Her wrecked voice filled your ears, hoarse and filthy.

“Cum for me,” she begged, still trembling from her own release. “Fill me up—please. I want to feel you pulsing inside my ass. Give it to me, baby. Breed this hole until it’s dripping with you.”

That was all it took.

You buried yourself to the hilt one final time, hips stuttering as the orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted deep inside her, painting her walls in pulse after heavy pulse. You groaned loud and low against her shoulder, grinding deep as you emptied yourself completely, the sheer intensity making your vision white out for a second. Momo moaned right along with you, clenching rhythmically like she was trying to wring out every last drop, her body still twitching from the aftershocks of her own climax.

You stayed buried deep while you came, hips giving tiny, involuntary thrusts as the last spurts flooded her. The heat of it was overwhelming—your release mixing with the slick mess already inside her, making every tiny movement even wetter, filthier. When the final wave finally ebbed, you stayed pressed against her, chest heaving, cock still twitching inside the tight, cum-filled heat of her ass.

Momo let out a soft, satisfied laugh that turned into a breathless whimper when you gave one last shallow grind. “Mmm… so much. I can feel you leaking already.” She reached back with one hand, nails scraping lightly down your thigh as she squeezed around you deliberately, milking the last few drops. Her eyes were glassy in the mirror, lips curved in that post-orgasm smirk that always promised more trouble later. “Look at the mess you made… my ass is so full of you now. I’m gonna be feeling this every time I sit down tomorrow.”

You kissed the side of her neck, slow and lingering, tasting the salt of her sweat while your hand gently rubbed soothing circles over her clit to ease her down. The mirror reflected the two of you tangled together—her bent and claimed, you still buried deep, the belt discs finally still against her skin. The green room smelled like sex and vanilla and the faint cherry of her gloss, the distant hum of the arena lights the only sound besides your slowing breaths.

After a long moment you eased out carefully, watching with dark satisfaction as a thick trickle of your cum leaked from her stretched hole, sliding down her thigh and catching on the fluffy cuff. Momo shivered at the sensation, then turned in your arms, pressing her sweat-slicked body against yours. She captured your mouth in a lazy, filthy kiss, tongue sliding against yours like she was savoring the taste of her own effort from earlier.