You've never been much of an "alpha male", and frankly, you're fine with that. Your childhood is a classic tale: always last picked in school sports, struggled to make many guy friends, called every homophobic slur under the sun just for having basic hygiene. Despite it all, you ended up in an alright placeâa quiet and unassuming existence.
Then, you met Kazuha, and your quiet and unassuming existence turned upside down.
"He ordered the chicken sandwich, not the burger," she scolds, dropping the tray of food onto the counter with enough force to send a couple fries flying.
You meekly tug her sleeve. "It's fine, reallyâ"
"Hush, baby." In an instant, she shuts you up with a quick glance with those piercing eyes. "Let momma handle this."
"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the cashier says with his squeaky, prepubescent voice. "I'll have the kitchen put a rush on his chicken sandwich right away. Uh, may I interest you in a free dessert for your troubles?"
Kazuha turns to you, patiently waiting for your answer.
"Uh, I guess a vanilla milkshake wouldn't be so badâ"
"Vanilla milkshake," she repeats, leaning against the counter. "And no cherries. My boyfriend doesn't like cherries."
The cashier gulps, his Adam's apple practically disappearing in sheer terror. "U-uh, yes ma'am. No cherries. Understood."
"Good." Kazuha shoots him one final glare before taking your hand and leading you back to your booth.
"You didn't have to do that," you mutter. "I would've been fine with the burger."
She slinks into the seat across from you with a huff. "It's not what you ordered though. And I know how much you like the chicken sandwich at this place."
You shrug. "The burger isn't that bad."
"Then why didn't you order the burger?" She raises her brow in that "I'm right and you know it" kinda way that you're all too familiar with.
"WellâŠ"
Kazuha reaches across the table and lifts up your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Repeat after me: Thank you for fixing my order, Kazuha. You're the best," she says in a high-pitched voice.
You chuckle softly. "I don't sound like that."
"Say it."
"Thank you forâ"
"Do it in the voice."
"WhaâI'm not gonna do tâ"
"Do it!"
Her outburst attracts some unwanted attention from other tables, making you shrink in your seat. "Kazuha, people are lookingâŠ"
Her lips curl into that smirkâthe one that never fails to make your heart do a somersault even after eight months of dating. "Aw, sorry," she brushes her thumb against your bottom lip, "did I embarrass you, baby?"
"W-whatever." You pull away before you do something that'll get both of you kicked out for overt PDA. "Thanks for fixing my order. You're the best," you utter flatly.
Kazuha sits back, arms behind her head and chin held high like those cool kids in old movies. "I know. I'm pretty fuckin' sick."
"And humble too."
The cashier from earlier drops off your food, making an effort to avoid looking Kazuha in the eye. "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you two?" he asks.
Kazuha looks over at you for an answer. "No, thank you," you say. You swear you see him breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he walks away. Poor guy.
"I feel bad," you unwrap your chicken sandwich, the one you ordered initially. "He's probably got enough things going on without us giving him grief."
"Relax babe, we're doing him a favor. Now he knows not to mess up people's orders," she points out, coolly tossing a fry into her mouth.
"Still," you linger on the flakes of salt on her lip for a second too long, "you know how badly service people are treated on the daily. I don't wanna add to that."
"Then don't. I'll do it for you," she smirks.
"Kazuha, that's not funny."
"What, I didn't laugh."
"Yeah, but you're smiling."
"I'm smiling because you're cute."
You bite your tongue, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a grin. Unknowingly or not, she sets her food to the side and leans forward, eyeing you like a piece of art.
"Ugh, I hate when you do that," you mutter.
"Do what? I'm just lookin' at ya." Her eyes trace over your lips, and you wonder if she'll like the taste of that new chapstick you just bought.
"I'm trying to eat."
"Am I disturbing your eating?" You feel her foot press against your calf, drawing slow lines with the toe of her boot.
Trying to win against Kazuha is a sisyphean task. She does what she wants, and you follow her around like a loyal puppy. Behave well enough, she'll give you a treatâand just like any puppy, you like your treats.
"Not here, at least," you pout. "I haven't had a single thing to eat all day."
"Aww." She gives you one last drag against your leg before settling back into her seat. "Okay, I'll let you eat."
"Thank you."
Even then, you find your foot gently rubbing against hers as you eat. You can act annoyed all you want, but face it: you're completely smitten with Kazuha.
"Baby?" Kazuha grabs a leather jacket off of the rack and holds it up to her torso. "What do you think?"
"I think," you sigh, "you have way too many leather jackets."
"What's wrong with that? I'm a collector."
"That looks exactly like the one you bought last week." You take a closer look at the oddly familiar looking tag. "I'm pretty sure that is the exact same one."
"Oh." She takes one last look at it before putting it back. "See, this is why I like having you around. I've probably saved, like, a billion dollars thanks to you."
"Whatever," you chuckle, linking your arm with hers. It's just common sense, you think, but the warmth of her compliment is leagues better than being right.
The two of you pass by racks and racks full of the new wave of summer trends. Personally, you've always been a fan of the fallâcardigans, sweaters, the ability to wear jeans without your legs feeling like tinfoil-wrapped burritos. You and summer are just a match made in Hell. Inevitably, it comes around to torment you for three months out of the year and you're forced to scramble for a wardrobe that won't burn you alive.
"See anything you like?" Kazuha asks.
You scan the men's section, grimacing at the typical suspects that plague the shelvesâtank tops, cargo shorts, ugly graphic tees with abominations like "summer vibes" written all over them. "Not really."
"You sure?" She grabs a simple black tank top off the rack. "This one seems pretty nice."
You physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Something like that would only look good on her, with her pretty arms that are deceptively strong, and when she flexes, you can see the shadows dance around her biceps, which reminds you of that one time she put you in a chokehold as a joke and you could feel her muscles pushing against your throat, and you were so mesmerized by the feeling that you forgot to fight back, andâ
"Baby?" Kazuha shakes you out of your trance. "You okay?" she chuckles.
"I-I'm good." You wipe away the droplet of drool that almost leaked from your lips. "Let's keep looking."
Deeper and deeper through the men's section you go, yet nothing seems to tickle your fancy. Go figure. You knew looking for clothes this time of year would be futile, but Kazuha wanted to hang out and you already said yes before realizing how much of a waste of time this would amount to.
"Ugh, these all suck," you groan.
"Maybe we'd have found something by now if you weren't so picky," Kazuha points out, brow raised at you.
"Not all of us were born to look good in just about anything," you bite back with a cheesy grin. "Some of us have to put effort into looking nice."
"Hey, don't blame me for being sexy." She drapes her arm around your shoulders, and for a split second, you think she's going to put you into another chokehold. So close. "I don't want you overheating just because you're being stubborn, baby."
"I'm not being stubborn, I justâ"
You glance over at the women's section and stop at one of the mannequins. It's wearing a simple outfit, fitting for the weather, but what catches your eyes is the skirtâfloor length and ruffled, made of a pure white cotton that seems to dance, even on the still mannequin.Â
For one reason or another, you can't take your eyes off of it. It wouldn't be too hard to fit into your current wardrobe, and it's a much nicer alternative to the dull beige of all the cargo shorts that seems to infect every corner of the men's options. But, it's justâyou're a guy, and Kazuha, wellâyou already wonder why she even likes you, andâ
Kazuha follows your gaze. "Are you getting the hots for the mannequin?" she teases.
"W-what? No, I justâmaybe we can find somewhere else toâ"
She grips your hand before you have a chance to escape. "Hey, be honest with me." Her voice turns softer, more sincere compared to her usual mischief. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, Iâ" You peer into her round eyes. They're void of any kind of judgment or disgust, the usual reaction you expect when girls you're interested learn of your 'peculiar tastes'. "I just thought the skirt was pretty. That's all."
"Pretty on me, or pretty on you?"
"Well, of course you'd look pretty in itâ"
"Hey." She tilts your chin up, the tip of her thumb pressing your bottom lip. You practically sink into her touch. Never have you felt a presence safer than Kazuha's.
"I⊠wanna try it on," you admit shyly. "Is that okay?"
She bares her pretty white teeth at you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. "Of course you can, baby. You don't need my permission to wear whatever you want."
Heat creeps up your cheeks like lava bubbling to the top of a volcano. "Thanks," you utter, biting back your excitement at the thought of looking pretty.
The second your staring at your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the ruffled skirt in your hands, it all starts to feel a little too real. Your first ever skirt. The thought has crossed your mind a handful of times before, but you never thought you'd actually get to this point. If it weren't for Kazuha and her charming eyes, this moment would just be another figment of your imagination.
You take a deep breath, and you put it onâit fits. Your reflection doesn't look half bad either. The breeze between your legs will take some getting used to, and you'll need to be wary of what color underwear you wear with these, but for now, you're just in awe of how good it looks. How good you look.
You do a little twirl for fun, giggling at the way the dress flows like petals on a blooming flower. Kazuha knocks against the dressing room door. "Did you try it on yet? I wanna see."
"Yeah! Come in."
As soon as Kazuha sees you, her expression drops. In that moment, worry starts to creep into your mind.
Does she not like it?
Does she not like you?
Will she leave just like the rest of them?
All your anxieties are laid to rest as Kazuha envelops you into a tight squeeze. "Holy fuck, my boyfriend is so pretty," she breathes, rocking you back and forth in her arms. You immerse yourself in her warmth, the kind of warmth that steadies your heart and quiets your mind; the kind you want to feel every day until you die.
"Does that mean you like it?" you ask.
"I love it," she says, pecking your lips. "I'm totally buying you every single color they have."
You chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Maybe we can just stick to this one for now? Until I get used to it, at least."
"That's fine with me." Her lips find yours once again, this one a little longer, a little more tender. "It really suits you, baby."
This kiss leaves you wobbly-kneed and blubbering, reduced to a puddle of lovestruck goop in her arms. Her strong, toned arms that you somehow fit perfectly in between.
"Let's hurry up and pay for it so I can take it off you later tonight," she winks, shutting the door behind her and leaving you to feel like the luckiest boy on the planet.
The two of you kick off your shoes by the front door of your apartment, tossing the shopping bags haphazardly on your coffee table. Those will be for future you to deal with; right now, your feet are dead from all the walking and your body is in desperate need of a bed to collapse on.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Kazuha urges, dragging you to your bedroom. In there, she collapses back onto your bed, arms above her head and her eyes staring you down like a hawk to a little mouse. "Hurry up and take me, pretty boy."
"O-oh." You gulp. "You mean, like, right now? Umâ"
"What's that?" Kazuha asks, a smirk growing on her lips. On your usually tidy desk, a small pile of crumpled tissues sits next to your closed laptop, and the memory of what you did last night hits you all at once.
"W-wait, it's not what it looks likeâ!"
"You little freak!" Before you have a chance to explain yourself, Kazuha jumps to her feet, grabbing at your laptop with the cunning of a fox. "Ooh, let's see what kind of perversions you were watching!"
"Kazuha, don'tâ"
She flips open your laptop, and on the screen lies a still of the last scene you had watchedâa boy with cerebral palsy and his grandma overlooking the edge of a mountain.
"What?" Kazuha asks. "Where's the porn?"
"I wasn't watching porn," you sigh in embarrassment, "I was watching a movie."
She gasps. "An adult movie?!"
"No!"Â
Kazuha falls into a fit of giggles. Real mature of her.
"I was watching a⊠sad movie." You point at the pile of tissues. "I was cryingâŠ"
"Aw." She holds your head to her chest, kissing the top of your scalp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make of fun of you for crying."
"It's fine." It's impossible to be upset with her when she feels this nice.
"Was it good? Can I watch it with you?"
"You want to? What about the whole, um, 'taking you' thing?"
She chuckles softly. "Maybe some other time. Walking around all day has got me feeling lazy." Kazuha crawls into your bed, cozying up under your covers. "C'mon, I wanna watch!"
You relent, following her onto your bed. "I might cry again."
"That's okay," she wraps you in her embrace, "mama's here."
You drag the little red dot all the way to the beginning and hit play, safe and sound in her arms.
"Grandma?" Chunhe utters, cradling the box of his beloved cat's ashes in his arms.
"Hmm?" she replies.
"After you take me to school, I'll buy you a meal at the cafeteria."
His grandma smiles at him. "All right."
"And then," Chunhe continues, "Buy yourself a train ticket and go wherever you want. Go look around. Go have some fun. Let me walk the rest of my path my way. All right?"
His words may be slow or clumsy, but his sincerity cuts through like the sharpest blade, and his grandma knows this. No more is Chunhe the helpless little boy he once was; now, he stands tall against the prejudice that the world throws at him.
Even after knowing how it ends, it doesn't get easier the second time around.
She holds you to her chest, letting you sob your little heart out for what feels like forever. For every tear that falls, Kazuha is there with a brush of her thumb or a comforting kiss to pick up all the broken pieces that the movie left you in.
It feels unfair, undeserved, you think, to know such tenderness like it's home. In the original script, the roles would be reversedâKazuha sobbing into your arms while you comfort her.Â
But they aren't. And even in this tenderness that you cherish so deeply, inklings of insecurities that you've long held still manage to seep through.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, wiping away at the last of your tears.
"What is it, baby?"
You breathe, slowly. "Why do you⊠why do you like me?"
She leans into you, the soft weight of her cheek resting on your head. "Hmm⊠Well, other guys just suck," Kazuha answers simply.
"Don't you ever wish I was more, uh, 'manlier' or something?"
"Hell no," she grimaces. "Those kinds of guys are the worst. I say one funny thing and they're all like 'Damn, your energy is different, for real!' and it's so annoying! I just have a personality!"
Kazuha holds you tighter, and it becomes clear just how much she wants you over any other guy. "Besides, I like my boys on the softer side." She kisses your damp cheek. "It means they have a soul."
The two of you share a chuckle, holding each other underneath the covers until the fatigue of today catches up to both of you. Your insecurities quelled, body warm, and heart undeniably owned by this miracle of a woman; for the first time in your quiet and unassuming existence, you feel like you're right where you belongâwrapped up in Kazuha's arms.
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"Itâs fifty-fifty. It either happens or it doesnât."
You set your glass down on the table so hard it nearly cracks. "It is not fifty-fifty."
She shrugsâChaewonâs quintessential uncaring attitude about anything you sayâas she falls down into the couch. "But it is, though." She pops open another beer like she hasnât had enough to drink already.
She always does this. Chooses some ridiculously wrong position to dig her heels in. Like if she just believes it to be true, the universe will bend to her will out of sheer exasperation. You should just ignore it, and just let her believe what she wants to believe. There really is no point to it with her. You drag a hand down your face, because you've been here before. Youâre always here. There is a universe where youâve been having this argument since the dawn of time. Monty Hall sits upon his cosmic throne and watches you suffer.
"You pick a door," she says, holding up one finger like she's making a serious mathematical point and not actively committing a war crime against logic. "And then Montyâwhoever the fuck he isâopens another door. And now thereâs two left. So, you know. Fifty-fifty. You either win the prize or you donât win shit."
âYouâre a fucking idiot.â
And she still doesnât care. If anything, she revels in your frustration, grinning and taking a lazy sip from her beer.
âI thought you liked your girls a little stupid,â she muses. You like Chaewon. Always have; since before her rejection and until now.
She might be onto something.
âThatâs what I saw earlier at the club, anyway,â she mumbles, and itâs pointed, a sharp dagger concealed by a hushed voice.
You pay it no mind. Itâs just Chaewon being Chaewon. Doing everything in her power to annoy the fuck out of you. You shake your head. âI like my girls with a basic understanding of probability.â
She hums, her gaze dragging over you, and it lingers. Long. Too long. So long itâs causing the alcohol induced haze to retreat from your brain. Then she just smiles again, takes another sip, and the buzz is back.
Chaewon stretches, arms flexed into a peak above her head, sliding against the backrest of the couch, her head landing against the armrest of the couch opposite of where you're sitting. Her legs stretch out off of the floor, her dress riding up, clinging to and stretching on her hips.
Itâs a performance, designed to squeeze out resistance from any sap that would dare defy her. Itâs impossible to tell if this is just Chaewonâs purest form, her instincts kicking in to naturally make any man submit, or if itâs a carefully crafted weapon, deliberately utilised and aimed with immaculate precision. Either way, itâs fucking lethal.
Lace-trimmed thigh-high covered feet land in your lap, crossed. You glance down at them. Stifle a thought of fucking the exposed part of skin right below her dress and above her socks. Breathe out through your nose, annoyed.
She sees. She was waiting for you to see, to be more exact.
âWhat?â she asks, but she knows the answer. Feigning innocence, but the chances of it convincing you are slim. âIs the view not to your liking?â
You flick your eyes up to meet hers. Flat. Unamused. Stern. âJesus, Chaewon.â
She cocks a half smile, hands up in the air like sheâs being put under arrest but confident she can flirt her way out of it. âRelax. Itâs just a joke.â
Right. Just a joke. One sheâs been playing at for far too long now. One youâre absolutely not in the mood for tonight. One that is quintessentially Chaewon. Mean. Sloppy. Reckless.
Thatâs what alcohol does to her. She gets all handsy and touchy and feely, disregarding any feelings or reservations youâd have about being touched meaninglessly by the girl that didnât want you.
And the joke is not exclusive to you either. Youâve seen her like this before, with other guys. Hands on their shoulders and theirs on her hips, leaning in too close, laughing too loud. Itâs just her usual mess. It doesnât mean anything.
Sheâs warm, just warm enough that you can feel her through your clothes. But warm enough to make you fear the sparks could ignite something that shouldnât be. Before you can have any more prohibited thoughts, you shift, trying to nudge her legs off of you.
She doesnât budge. Deliberately. Straight up refuses to even acknowledge the attempt.
You sigh. âGet your legs off of me.â
Chaewon blinks at you, lashes fluttering faster than your heart can beat, her lips poutingâ a poor substitute for saying she canât believe youâd say that to someone this cute. She chuckles, transforms it into a smirk, and tilts her head.
âMake me.â
She presses the arch of her foot against your crotch. Itâs right on target. Light. Testing. Provocating.
Itâs impossible not to react. You could sit here, not do anything, let her rub your hardening cock through your pants a bit, enjoy the feeling of her getting you worked up. But thatâs not what this is about. You know this pattern. As soon as you acknowledge it, it stops, and even if it didnât, it would all be meaningless.
So you react. You grab her ankle, and shove her legs off of you.
She lets out a soft âoh,â before laughing, low and amused. She works herself back up right, shifting her legs underneath her, but she doesnât look the slightest bit deterred.
âWow,â she mocks. âSensitive.â
You roll your eyes, reaching for your drink. Itâs water. Unlike Chaewon, you know when to quit, much to her annoyance. âStop being weird and focus.â
âI am focused!â she retorts, all tension and energy. âAre you focused?â she says finally, slow, saccharine, like honey that's taking its sweet time to drip from a spoon into your mouth. âNot too distracted by how fuckable I look in this dress?â
You donât acknowledge it. Again, no point. You set your glass down with a deliberate clinkâ any noise to replace what she just askedâthen reach for three random objects on the coffee table; her phone, a book, and a coaster.
âWeâre settling this tonight.â
She puts her beer back on the table, folds her hands in her lap, and sits with her whole body pointed at you. She shakes her body loose with slight movements. Then, slowly, she smiles.
âPlease,â she says, voice sultry and teasing. âTeach me a lesson, professor.â
Youâve probably explained the theory to Chaewon more times than there are episodes of the show that inspired the discussion. Itâs time for a practical run-through. You grab the three nearest things you can find and leave standing upright to function as make-shift doorsâyour phone, your glass of water, and a book Chaewon has been quipping from for the past month, How to Date Men When You Hate Menâand you form a neat row of three. âLetâs drill it into your skull. Three doors. One has a prize. Pick one.â
And for all the effort you put in, she barely looks. Eyes on you, finger pointing in a different direction. âThe book.â
âRight, and that was a random choice out of three, meaningââ
âThat I was either right or I was wrong. Fifty-fifty.â She shrugs, and shuts the door on this method of having her understand.
Sheâs perfectly frustrating. âitâs not fifty-fiftyââ
She shifts the opposite way from her previous slide, her head landing in your lap. Her cheek rests against your thigh, and her provocation pokes at your heart. She gazes up at you, lashes fluttering a hypnotic rhythm. âThis is more comfortable. Keep going.â
How could you?
âChaewon.â
She hums, but she doesnât acknowledge your protest. âWhat? Does having a cute girlâs face this close to your dick make you nervous?â
Ignore it. If you acknowledge it, it only gets worse. You push it down, sheâll eventually grow bored, and as long as the boulder doesnât slip from your hands, youâll be done with this forever. âOkay, so now, Montyââ
âYouâre looking a little serious,â she muses, herself looking anything but. âWould you look like that while getting head? All furrowed brows, all focused?â Her lips curve deviously like the curveballs sheâs throwing you. âOr would you be more relaxed? I can go deep, you know. No need to worry about me.â
Every cell in your body is telling you to push back, take her up on what sheâs offering, and let her ruin this night. But you know. Youâd get your hopes up, but sheâd just call it a silly joke. Keep ignoring it. Sheâll get bored.
You take a slow breath. Slow down your rhythm. âAre you done? Monty opens a door that isnât the prize. That leaves two doors with potential. Your first pick was only right one-third of the time, so if you switchââ
âAaaah.â Her mouth opens, tongue peeking out like a landing strip, eyes fluttering shut like sheâs waiting for you to shove your cock inside.
Thatâs it.
You shove her off, not rough, but firm, standing up from the couch you might have sunk in immediately. âCan you cut it the fuck out?â
Sheâs back upright, giggling, back landing against the couch, legs curled beneath her. âWhatâs wrong? Blood rushing away from your head?â
âDo you ever stop?â
Her arms stretch over her head again, and youâre starting to see a pattern with the way her dress is stretching against her hips. âNot when Iâm having fun.â
Itâs maddening. Talking with Chaewon is selecting a door, continuing to talk with her is being shown the wrong door and choosing to take it willingly. âYou really donât care how frustrating you make the Monty Hall problem, do you?â
She smirks. She must think she has it all figured out. âI already told you. Either something happens, or it doesnât. Fifty-fifty, dude.â
âThatâs really not how probability works.â
âThatâs how life works.â
You shake your head, and accompany it with an equally disappointed sigh. âYou just donât want to admit when youâve made the wrong choice.â
She stills, and itâs eerie. It shouldnât have happened. Then, like a mask slipping back, she recovers with a sly grin. âOr maybe I just like my way better.â
Before you can argue, she makes her move, getting up, pressing against your arm, chest squishy, warm and deliberate against you. âBut you can explain it to me as many times as you want.â
Sheâs impossible. âChaewonââ
And she leaves no room for response. âGo on,â she purrs, pushing her tits smush against your bicep, molding around the way your muscles tense. âTeach me.â
Your patience and her dress have one thing in common. Theyâre both razor-thin. âI mean it.â
She hums, and she smiles, and sheâs convinced youâre going to give in any second now. âNot a fan anymore of me touching you?â Her voice drops, all warmth and provocation. âWould you rather reverse the roles, have you touch me? Be careful. Iâm sensitive.â
Your fingers wrap around her wrist, pulling it high with a firm and stern motion. âCut it out.â
She clicks her tongue, and scowls in return. The joke is over, and you ruined her fun. âYou liked it plenty when that slut at the club was all over you.â
âThatâs different,â you say, your jaw tightening up. She knows it is, and itâs not fair. Does she think she can get away with it just because youâve got a thing for her? Or, used to have, you try to convince yourself.
Sheâs so clearly unimpressed itâs almost hurtful. It wasnât a lie though. It was different, that girl at the club never tore your heart out. But none of that matters when Chaewon wants to have her fun. She scoffs. âMustâve been nice. You didnât even flinch when she touched you. Just leaned into her, didnât push her away like you do with me.â
You donât answer. You let go of her wrist, sit back down, unsure what to make if anything yourself. You could have gone home with âthat slutâ. Had a great evening. Instead, youâre here, keeping your promise to Chaewon that youâd make sure she got home safe, wasting another night on a girl that should have long been in your past already.
That same girl plants both her knees next to yours on the couch, dress creeping above her hips, exposing the slightest hint of black and lace panties straddling your lap, settling against you.
You hate how right she feels here.
She rocks her hips down, just slightly, just testing the waters. And like an experienced professional, the jokeâs back on. âYou sure you donât want to have a little fun?â
Your hands clamp around her waistânot pulling her closer. Pushing her off.
She doesnât move. Doesnât resist. Just concedes as the distance grows.
âCome on,â she murmurs, trying to make sense of it all. âYou used to love looking at me.â
Your arm extends fully, pushing her as far as your body allows. âThat was a long time ago.â
She lets out a small scoff, more hurt than the lost one, finally relenting and shifting off your lap. The joke is no longer fun for anyone in this room.
You just have to bite the bullet. Separate her from yourself, let the alcohol fade from her system and figure out what to do after that. âGo to bed,â you exhale sharply, a forced sense of finality in your voice. âIâll sleep here, and be gone before you wake up.â
Chaewon stares at you like you just suggested the unthinkable. Her eye twitches, a habit youâve long learned to associate with her being so upset that something is going to break. Then, she exhales sharper than you did, standing up. âFine. Whatever.â
She turns, stomping toward her bedroom, her pumps exploding with sound every step of the way. âItâs still fucking fifty-fifty, by the way!â she yells, right before she slams the door.
Itâs suddenly silent. Silent enough to hear your heartbeat going crazy.
Sheâll calm down soon enough. Hopefully.
The heat of her body still burns against you, scorching where she was pressed against you. But if you ran after her now, youâd get burned alive. You rub your hands down your face, sinking into the couch, staring into the ceiling as you mentally prepare for whatâs bound to be a sleepless night. Thereâs no escaping those as long as Chaewon is a part of your life.
----------------------------------------
Sleep doesnât come.
You want to blame it on the horrible way this couch is digging into your back. Or the sounds of the city being ever present. Or the dim glow of some street lights seeping into the living room through Chaewonâs curtains that never managed to fully close. But comfort isnât the issue.
Itâs your damn mind, that canât shut the fuck up.
Too many thoughts, all tangled together like a string of memories that wrapped around itself far too many times. Her hands, her voice, her weight in your lap. Her unusually prickly temper, and her enhanced sloppiness.
It all feels too fucking familiar, and the moment you admit that, thereâs no holding it back.
It started as a night much like this one. You and Chaewon, at her place, sitting too close for friends but too far apart for lovers. Laughing at everything and nothing. Drinking just enough to make the lines blur. You had thoughtâmaybe. Hopefully.
And for a moment, you know, you had been right. It seemed like the kind of night youâd eventually be able to tell your kids about. An edited version, to cut out the once-in-a-lifetime pounding you intended to give her, but still, magical in its own way.
The way she let you kiss her. The way she kissed you back. The way her eyelashes fluttered to pull you into the kiss. How her left thigh rode up yours. The way her fingers locked behind the nape of your neck. The way you told her you liked her.
Then the way she pulled back. The hesitation in her eyes. The way her voice broke when she said âI donât think we should do this.â
The way a crack formed on your heart, barely being pushed together by the rest of your more logical organs as you forced yourself to nod and agree, to act like it was fine. Like you were fine. Like you hadnât just managed to secure the right door, only to be forced to step into the wrong one.
And the way your heart formed a second crack when you saw her again. She was still the same. Still Chaewon. Like nothing had happened.
But something did happen to you.
Your phone buzzes.
Itâs not easy to ignore. Chaewon is an addiction to you, the next hit of this sweet obsession entering your veins as your screen lights up.
Chaewon: You awake??
You know you should just be failing at sleeping again. This can only lead to misery.
You: Yeah.
Itâs quiet for a bit, but a new message makes its way to you all the same.
Chaewon: Cant sleep
If only she knew how she cursed you with the same fate. If not for her youâd be sound asleep in your own bed right now, or even better, in the bed of that chick you met at the club. What did she say her name was again? Kazuha? Instead, youâre here, repeating old patterns with exhausted probability.
You: That sucks.
Your answers are curt. Too perfect with punctuation for your usual back and forth. She doesnât respond right away. She might be stubborn and annoying about things sheâs convinced sheâs right about, but sheâs never been oblivious.
Then:
Chaewon: Are we okay?
Youâre upset, but not heartless. It tugs.
You: Weâre fine, Chaewon
Chaewon: Thats not a yesâŠ
You might just scream out of frustration, your phone dropping on your chest, but obviously you canât. Sheâd hear. Sheâs impossible. So fucking stupidly impossible. And yet, you find yourself typing anyway.
You: Do you want me to lie?
The pause is longer this time. Should you feel bad or just so tired that it doesnât matter anymore?
Chaewon: No
Chaewon: Idk
Chaewon: I just get nervous when ur like this
You: Like what??
Chaewon: Distant
Chaewon: Careful
Chaewon: Upset with me
Your fingers hover over the keyboard without action. Sheâs not wrong. You are being careful. Itâs her fault. Sheâd break your heart a second time in less time it took for it to beat. Thatâs dangerous.
You: Idk what you want me to say Chaewon
Chaewon: Idk eitherâŠ
Chaewon: But I miss how we used to talk
The memories flood in of the two of you just shooting the shit, countless evenings. StillâŠ
You: Weâre talking now.
Chaewon: U know thats not what i meant
And sheâs right. You do know, but this is just easier. For you, for her. For the both of you.
Chaewon: Cant you just come over here and talk w me?
Chaewon: I miss youâŠ
And before you can even overthink itâ
You move.
----------------------------------------
There is a thought that creeps into your mind as the door creaks open and you step into her room. Something about a lionâs den, and then another one following it up about it actually being the lionesses that do the hunting. Thereâs no point to it. They all fade in an instant. Sheâs no huntress right now. Sheâs vulnerable, like prey, enticing you to be the hunter, looking so ready to be pounced on; curled up beneath her blankets, only the soft shape of her against the sheets to lure you in.
âHey.â Itâs a solid way to start a conversation, but you canât help but expect more from her after calling you in.
You nod, eyes fleeing from hers, shifting awkwardly by the door. âHey.â
It takes a while before you move. The same goes for her. Sheâs squinting, her eyes getting used to the darkness. Sheâs always been stubborn about letting you help her get a blue light filter on her phone.
She finally stops, and for a moment, your eyes meet hers. She carries a soft smile, the kind that made you fall for her in the first place. But thereâs a difference in it; barely perceptible; most definitely flown under the radar by people not so obsessed with her face. Thereâs precaution sewn into it. The sides of her smile are constantly shifting and trembling, like she doesnât know whether to keep it there or to switch to a more neutral expression. Then, she shifts, her left arm pulling out from under the cover and tapping the sheets next to her, an unspoken invitation.
You sit down with a sigh, back turned towards her. Youâre not far, but youâre not close either. A safe distance, you think to yourself. The mood isnât tense, but also not comfortable. Just⊠unsure.
You can hear her laps part, exhale, almost say something, and then close again a couple of times. Itâs not until you finally turn to face her that she speaks.
âDo you remember that summer at the beach?â
Your eyebrows raise on instinct, disbelief unmistakably painted across your face, impossible not to notice, not even in this darkness. âHow could I forget?â
The muscles on her face relax as her eyes drift away from your eyes, seemingly getting lost into her pillow, which she clutches tight. âYou remember how you were so worried about me you gave me a piggyback ride back to the house?â
âNo,â you scoff, âI remember you guilt tripping me into carrying your soaking wet ass across the sand.â Your face turns away from her again, hands clutching the side of the bed as your eyes veer off into the distance past the window; letting the glass serve as a canvas to project your memories onto.
You hear the sheets rustle behind you as she works herself upright, before reminding you exactly why you helped her back then in the first place. âYou werenât complaining back then! You were way too busy copping a feel of my ass.â
âOkay, now thatâs not fair,â you snap back much too fast, much too flustered. âI wasnât copping a feel, I was keeping you from falling. And besides, you werenât helping either! Just hanging there all limp, mumbling youâd never be able to walk again.â
âI mean, it just hurt so bad. That jellyfish really fucked me up,â she chuckles back, and you can feel the pressure of her back leaning against yours.
Thereâs a soft silence, the one drenched in feelings youâd much rather stay in, instead of moving on to an uncomfortable reality. So you keep painting, hoping the window holds your memory-scape just a little longer.
âDo you remember what we kept talking about? To keep your mind off of the pain?â
You can tell she knows in the way she responds with an âOh my god.â
Both of you say it at the same time.
âThe fucking Monty Hall problem!â
Thereâs a beat of silence. First itâs a chuckle. It turns into laughter, and it quickly grows uncontrolled, unstoppable. The kind that makes the memories seem brighter, makes your body feel lighter, the kind that makes you throw your head back as she does hers. You both open your eyes staring at the roof, now sharing the same canvas to display footage of past days.
âGod,â you breathe, your head locked in place but your eyes drifting over towards her face. âI miss those days.â
She giggles, nose scrunching. âI donât miss what that jellyfish did to me.â
The laughter fades, and you think that maybe, just maybe you could forget about earlier and go to bed without feeling like shit. You shift, and she does too, turning towards her as she moves back to her original spot, leaning against the headrest, crawling underneath the blankets with her legs.
Your breath catches as you look at her. Your stomach turns. âChaewon.â
She blinks, glancing up at you. âHmm?â
âDid youââ You inhale sharply, but you canât afford to give her the benefit of the doubt. âDid you seriously invite me in here just to talk un-dressed like that?â
Her brows furrow. Then she follows your gaze, shifting slightly, andâ
Fuck.
Black lace, delicate, thin. Your favorite.
She freezes. "Oh."
Oh? Fucking oh?
âWhy the fuck are you like this?â you explode.
Her eyes widen. "No! Iâ" She scrambles, tugging the blanket back up over herself. âI wasnâtââ
âYou said you wanted to talk, Chaewon.â
âI do!â Her voice pitches up. Sheâs pulling the sheets up hurriedly, using them as a shield from you, all you can see is her cheeks changing color ever so slightly. This time because of the embarrassment instead of the alcohol. âI promise⊠I doâŠâ
Itâs hard to believe that. Itâs all so familiar, and all so fucking frustrating. âYou know, this is just like you to do,â you ramble, and itâs hard to stop once you get going. âAlways so fucking obsessed with getting a reaction out of me, never stopping to think for a second about how I feel!â
Her face softens, and the way she looks at you makes you sick. Like she thinks youâre right. âThatâs notââ
âIsnât it?â
âI swear!â She shouts, looking panicked and itâs enough to finally get you to shut up. âI was still out of it all, too mad and too drunk when I got back here. I just wanted to sleep. I didnâtââ and a big, shallow breath interrupts her, the kind that just appears and leaves you with less air than before. âI wasnât thinking, okay?â
You want to believe her. But tonight has been too much. Too many provocations, too many lines blurring that she would turn back from, and in turn, you would let form scars.
Then you sigh, sitting back down. âOkay.â
âAre youâŠâ her voice trembles as she tries to figure out the specifics of your answer. âYouâre shaking. Are you mad?â
Your mind is still trying to slow down, and answering gets forgotten. She takes that as an answer, obviously. âIâm sorry.â
âIâm not so mad that Iâd be shaking, you idiot.â Your voice is quiet. âItâs just way too fucking cold in here. And I was thinking.â
Thereâs no hesitation, because thatâs just how Chaewon is as she shifts, making room. âGet under the covers.â
âChaewon, pleaseââ you start, but sheâs not having it.
âI wonât try anything, okay? I promise,â she interrupts you, sounding calmer already. Thereâs a touch of pleading in it, but not the whiny kind she uses to get you worked up. Itâs more desperate, more real. âJust give me a chance to prove Iâm being serious.â
You donât move at first. Stubbornness is inherent to both of you, after all. She tugs on the sheets impatiently. You sigh, but itâs obviously performative, a last jab at her to let her know youâre only doing this just because youâre cold. And she wasnât lying. She properly keeps her distance, just sharing the warmth of the bed. Itâs immediate and comforting, but you donât allow yourself to sink into it.
âSee?â she murmurs. âNot a trap.â
Not yet. You donât dare say it, but you donât have to. She sees the thoughts in your eyes. So she shuffles, turning away from you.
The silence stretches so long you start focusing on the noises it canât beat into submission. Your breathing. Her breathing. The creaking and crumpling sound of the bed and the sheets as you move.
âI wanted to talk, and we talked so⊠thatâsâthatâs good. I guess,â she whispers. âI mean, I wouldnât mind talking some more.â She lets a little space in between for you to insert yourself into. You never do. âBut if youâd rather pretend like Iâm not here, I get that too. Iâll shut up.â
Itâs endearing, and your response is a little mean, letting her wait in silence for just a little longer before replying.
âIâm not pretending. I need somebody to blame the lack of space I have in this bed.â
She smiles, soft. You canât see it, obviously, but you feel it. Somehow. She shifts under the blanket, closer but not touching. Sheâs apprehensive. And she meant what she said.
âIs this the first time weâve slept in the same bed?â she asks, but she masks her tone enough that she could play it off as talking to herself if you decided to not respond.
âNope,â you correct her. âThere was that one time in sophomore year. You showed up at my door at, like, three in the morning. Absolutely shitfaced, mind you.â
She lets out a small, embarrassed groan, and you know youâre on the right track.
âI remember that,â she mumbles. âBarely.â
âYou couldnât figure out how to get to your dorm. Said not even Monty Hall could help you find the right door.â
âHow do you remember all that?â Chaewon questions, like you had no right to have that memory.
âAre you kidding me? How could I forget? I told you to take my bed, and that I was gonna crash on the couch,â you continue explaining, your lips curling upwards.
âBut I didnât let you?â
âNope. You didnât trust my roommate worth shit. Which, fair.â
She doesnât say anything. You keep going though, less for her alone or you alone, both for you both.
âYou grabbed my wrist when I tried to walk away. Looked me dead in the eye and said, and I quote, âDonât leave me alone with that guy here, he smells like crusty socks and assault.ââ
Chaewon lets out a strangled sound thatâs half mortified laugh, half groan. âOh my God.â
âSo I gave in. Got in bed next to you. Fully clothed. On top of the covers. Like a gentleman.â
âYou didnât sleep for a second that night, did you?â
âOf course not. You starfished. One arm across my chest, one leg thrown over me like a fucking seatbelt. You had me trapped, dead to rights. Didnât help you made me paranoid that my roommate was actually going to do something.â
She laughsâreally laughs. Warm, unguarded. Then she rolls onto her side, facing you again. Her eyes search yours. "It was easier, wasnât it? Back then. In college. At the beach. You carrying me like an idiot, me acting like I couldnât walk, and you trying to turn probability into a personality trait."
You laugh, but itâs not really a laugh. More like one of those nose breaths that accompanies an abbreviated text. âBecause it was.â
Her smile fades. âYou never needed me to ask. You always just⊠stayed.â
You shift slightly, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. Her eyes drop there, then rise again.
âI think Iâm a leaver,â she says. No warning. No lead-in. Like she had to say it fast before she lost the nerve.
âWhat?â It leaves your mouth before you can even blink.
But Chaewon swallows, her eyes retreating downwards. âI think thatâs just who I am. Some people stay, and some people leave. Youâre the kind of person that stays, and Iâm a person that leaves. Because if I go first, I donât have to wait until you become a leaver just like me.â
She looks at you like sheâs afraid youâll flinch. Like sheâs already bracing for the recoil.
âI know itâs selfish,â she adds quickly. âBut that night⊠when you kissed me, and then said you really liked meâI panicked. I did what I always do. You were giving me a choice, and that scared the hell out of me. So I picked the choice I always make.â
She breathes in. Exhales slow. Really takes her time, her eyes drifting slightly upwards now.
âAnd for a while, I told myself it was just another fifty-fifty. You know? Just a game of chance I lost. You either leave or get left. You either lose something or end up lost. And I thoughtâ" she breaks off, swallowing again, part of her voice getting swallowed with it, "âthat it would go away like the rest. That Iâd forget. That itâd stop mattering."
You stay quiet.
âBut it didnât. It stuck. You stuck.â
She shifts again, knee brushing against yours beneath the blanket. Her voice cracks a little.
âAnd I started noticing things,â she says. "Little things. Like the first time you didnât wait for me to text goodnight. Or when you were with someone else and you had that smile that I thought was reserved for me. Or when you stopped arguing with me about dumb shit just to keep talking."
Her voice wavers.
âAnd then I realized I didnât just pick wrong. I watched the right door shut. And then I heard it lock. And thatâs why I know your stupid fucking Monty Hall problem is wrong. I shouldâve had another shot. Another choice. But life didnât open a wrong doorâit just took the right one away. And thatâs why I know itâs just fifty-fifty. And I lost my coin toss at happiness.â
Thereâs a second of silence where your brain short circuits.
âYouâre a fucking idiot,â you mutter.
She blinks, but it helps her to finally look at you. âOuch?â
You sit up, tossing the blanket off like it offended you. âNo, Iâm serious. You think my door shut? You fucking locked it.â
She opens her mouth, but you cut her off, your pace quickening. âThe fact that I stayed around all this time is proof enough that my door is still unlocked. It wasnât up to me to reopen that door.â
âIââ
âBut you had to try.â
Chaewonâs eyes flickerânot away, but deeper. Her breath hitches, and you swear itâs the first real sound sheâs made in a while that didnât have a smirk behind it. She shifts forward just slightly, only enough that her leg brushes against yours again, like sheâs testing if the signalâs still green.
âYouâre saying⊠itâs still open?â
You drag a hand through your hair, eyes rolling ceilingward before locking onto her again. âIt was never fucking closed.â
Her lips part. Theyâre trembling now. Sheâs not teasing this time. âThen whyâwhy didnât you everââ
âBecause Iâm not gonna beg,â you cut in, sharper than intended. âIâm not gonna crawl through the fucking keyhole when you slammed the door in my face.â
She flinches. Just barely. But enough.
âI didnât need you to beg, justâŠâ she says, softer, like sheâs going over the math again in her head. âI donât know⊠Iââ Her voice dips, trails, then steadies. âIâm here now. Iâm trying.â
You look at her. Clear as day in the middle of the night. She's curled up next to you, defensive and ashamed and stubborn all at once. Her eyes are too glossy, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the comforter like theyâre looking for somewhere to hide.
And then she breathes, and her voice breaks.
âI just wanted you to want me still.â
And that? That fucking cracks something open.
You reach for herâno grand gestures, no cinematic swoopâjust firm, necessary motion. You cradle her jaw, fingers sweeping her hair back, and when you speak, itâs low and final and absolutely everything youâve been holding back.
âI never fucking stopped.â
Thereâs no pause this time.
No âbut what ifââ
No âare you sureââ
No more fucking Monty Hall.
Just her lips crashing into yours, messily, hungrily, like the apology she couldnât say and the forgiveness you werenât ready to offer have decided to cancel each other out with tongue.
Itâs not careful. Itâs not gentle.
Itâs honest.
Sheâs on your lap again, only this time itâs not a joke. Her knees bracket your thighs and she grinds down with purpose, gasping when she feels you through your boxers. Her hands slide beneath your shirt, nails catching skin, and you curse under your breath as heat swells in your gut, undeniable and urgent.
You break the kiss, forehead against hers. âStill cold?â
Her laugh is shallow, much too distracted with making sure she can properly share in your body heat. âYeah. Make me warm.â
âAnd here I was thinking you were hot enough as is.â
She smirks, and itâs real this time. Like the one you saw when you barely knew her, but knew enough already. Not a mask. Not a trap. Just her.
And she whispers, âDonât stop this time.â
Like you could. Besides, youâre not even sure itâs only meant for you. With the way sheâs tugging and removing your clothes, kissing your shoulders and pulling you tighter, itâs like sheâs making up for lost time. For every second spent being careful. Your hands trace her body, taking your time to really make sure every curve and beauty mark is stuck in your mind forever.
âGod,â you mumble under your breath, pressing your lips to her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, working your way down until youâre kissing the edge of a black lace bra that was almost the reason you stormed off earlier. âI canât believe how beautiful you really are.â
Her breath hitches. âI know.â
And youâve missed that, too. Her confidence. The way she can say things like that without irony, because she knows exactly what sheâs worthâshe just never thought sheâd be worth it to you once more.
You kiss her through the black lace, and she shivers when you nip at the edge of her bra, as close to her nipple as you can get. She doesnât waste any time herself flicking open the button of your jeans. Youâve always thought she needed a helping hand, both of yours pushing your pants further down. Theyâre not even off properly when she pauses, eyes blown wide, honing in on the tent in your boxers leaving little to imagination.
âWow,â she says, and itâs almost weird to hear her say it without sarcasm.
âWow?â your voice is rough, coming out in a single breath.
She nods, and her lips part as she yanks your boxers down, eyes almost dazed as she takes you in. âWow.â
Itâs a reverent look. Itâs a look that suits her as long as itâs directed towards you, you think. Her fingers reach out like sheâs about to wrap them around you, but she stops right before she makes contact, and the look in her eyes changes. Smug now. Knowing.
âI need a moment,â she says, and you know sheâs up to no good. âYou canât just swing that in a girl's face and expect me to make it easy for you.â
A throb shoots through your cock, hips twitching without your consent. âDonât you fucking dare.â
But she just smirks.
âChaewon.â
âShhh,â she says as she shuts down any and all protest, and her voice is the perfect combination of exasperating and enticing. âIâve got my own Monty Hall problem lined up for you.â
You groan, but itâs more of a plea for mercy than a protest. âYou canât be serious.â
âOh, Iâm serious,â she purrs, fingers grazing the base of your cock before pulling back again, making you hiss.
âThree doors,â she says, and the way she looks at you is obscene. âMy front door, my back door, and my... ehm... mouth door?â
Youâre gone. Youâre fucking gone. âYou are so lucky you're fucking hot.â
She keeps going, relentless. Her grin is pure mischief. âWhich one have I imagined you fucking me with the most?â She rolls her hips, testing you. âPick right, and you get to fuck it.â
âAnd if I guess wrong?â Your voice is rough, needy, everything you never let her hear before tonight.
Her eyes burn. âThen you eat me out first.â
Itâs a rigged game and you both know it, but you play along anyway, letting her set the rules and stack the deck and deal each card. You lean forward, drag your lips up the line of her jaw. âThatâs an impossible choice. You want all of them.â
She moans, a hiccup of laughter and want, and the weight of her shifts in your lap, urgent. âYou wish. You only get one.â
But her hips are grinding now, a rolling, deliberate pressure that tells you exactly what her body needs. The answer is and always has been: every option, at once, and all of them leading back to you.
You palm her ass, fingers splaying underneath the lace edge, and the way she shivers tells you she wasnât expecting you to touch her with that kind of certainty. For all her bravado and gamesmanship, this is how you win: you move first, and you donât hesitate.
âLetâs see,â you murmur, mouth against the shell of her ear, making her gasp. âBack doorââ a squeeze, a knead that pulls a little yelp from her, ââdoesnât seem like your style. At least not as a first move.â
âDonât count me out,â she breathes, and you hear the competitive edge in her voice, the same edge that made her stay up all night just to prove you wrong about some irrelevant, beautiful, dumb thing.
You laugh, slow and low, and she shakes against you. âMouth door,â you say, and you canât help but grin at the way sheâs already licking her lips, hungry, needing to prove something. âObvious contender. But I think you want it right here.â Your hand finds the heat between her legs, cups her through those ridiculous panties, and her eyes go wide, her breath gone.
You wait a beat. Sheâs never been great at waiting, but sheâs trembling now, lips parted, waiting for your verdict.
âAnd if I told you itâs definitely not the back door? Does your answer change?â she pants.
You consider your odds. âI thinkââ you start, but she interrupts.
âActually,â she says, and the way her voice drips with satisfaction is almost enough to make you lose. âI donât give a fuck. I want your cock. Right here.â
She grinds against you, and you canât help but think youâre never spending another day without that feeling.
âFuck,â you groan, because she won this round, and she knows it. âYou donât play fair.â
She bites her lip, smiling, then reaches between you, fingers wrapping around you with a perfect, firm pressure. âAnd thatâs why you love me.â
Sheâs right. Sheâs wrong about so many fucking things, but sheâs right about this.
You thrust up into her hand, and she moans, her body arching, her hair falling down her back. You reach for her hips, hooking your thumbs under the lace, and she lifts herself up, letting you pull it down, off, away. She doesnât care where it lands; sheâs already lowering herself back onto you, and youâre closing the distance, guiding your cock to her needy cunt.
âFuck you,â you breathe, so close to her you can taste it, the subtext of admission against her skin. âIâm not saying it first. Iâll force you to.â
She rocks her hips, taking you deeper, her breath catching with a shudder. âYeah? You think you can make me?â
You grit your teeth, the friction of her tight around you making it almost impossible to think. âI know I can.â
âBig words,â she gasps, riding you faster, harder. âThink you can back them up?â
You reach between you, your thumb finding her clit, and she cries out, her whole body shaking, her walls clenching around you. âYou first,â you growl, and you can tell sheâs sensitive. âSay it.â
Her eyes roll back, her lower lip caught between her teeth. You know it, you have her dead to rights, this is your win, and thenââNuh-uh.â
You thrust up into her, relentless, and the pressure builds, mounting, and sheâs so fucking tight around you, and you want her to say it, need her to say it.
She grinds down harder, her nails dragging your shoulder blades, and itâs too much. Too good. Too fucking hot. âYouâre gonna say it,â you gasp, your thumb circling her clit faster. âI know you.â
âAnd I know you,â she pants, her head falling back as she rides you with abandon, her whole body trembling, her breath hitching with every thrust. âI knowâoh fuckâyou.â
You watch her face as she rocks against you, her lips parting, her eyes wide and desperate and defiant. Sheâs so close. So close you can feel it, the way sheâs fighting it, wanting to hold out, wanting to win.
âSay it,â you growl, thrusting up into her again, harder, not easing up on her clit.
She gasps, and this has to be it. Sheâs trembling, tightening, drowning in ecstasy and sheâsâ âIâmâFuck, Iâm cumming, you fucker,â she manages to choke out, and she cums hard. Her head drops forward, no further admission, still no winner as her whole body shudders, her walls clenching around you like sheâs weaponizing her orgasm against you, trying to pull the words from you.
You swear, a rough sound thatâs almost a surrender, and she laughs, breathless, smug, still shaking in your lap. âYou first.â
Your grip tightens on her hips, and youâre so fucking close, but you hold on, hold out, your breath ragged. âIâm not going to give up,â you groan, thrusting up into her in a wild frenzy, loud clapping of flesh colliding now strangling the room. She lets out a strangled sound, and her eyes go wide letting you know she didnât expect this.
Didnât expect you to only go harder, to keep fucking her through her orgasm, keep pushing her over the edge again and again and again until she might pass out. You thrust harder, deeper, and her voice breaks, her body wild against yours.
You hold on, and she holds on longer. Sheâs so tight, so wet, and the heat is building, and you feel her clench around you, feel her mold to your shape. Her mouth opens, and you canât tell if sheâs about to say it or if sheâs too far gone, and thenâ
She pulls off of you. You watch, stunned, as she drops to her knees and wraps her mouth around your cock, and the sight alone is enough to make you lose it. You groan, a deep, ragged sound, and she moans around you, the vibration pushing you over the edge. Your hands tangle in her hair as you come, hot and hard, spilling ropes of cum into her mouth.
âFuck, Chaewon,â you choke out, the last of your breath leaving your body as every drop of cum you had does the same, her lips still tight around you.
Then she pulls back, and her eyes are on you, wide and bright and triumphant. She cups a hand beneath her chin, opens her mouth, andâ
âI love you,â she says, letting your cum spill out over her lips, and thereâs a laugh behind it, a tremor of amusement, like she knows exactly what sheâs doing to you. Like she knows she just won all over again. She wipes her mouth, cum streaking her chin, her neck, her chest, and she looks so absurdly beautiful you canât even be mad.
âChaewon,â you breathe. Itâs exasperation and wonder, the way youâve said her name so many times before. âYouâre fucking impossible.â
âReally?â She bats her lashes with a coy look, licking her lips like sheâs savoring every last drop of the chaos sheâs caused. âArenât you supposed to say it back?â
You grab her by the waist, pulling her back up to straddle you past your softened cock, and she giggles, squirming in your lap. âYouâre such a fucking brat.â
âAnd you canât get enough of it,â she teases, her smile widening,
You stare at her, chest heaving, the words settling into the spaces that were empty for so long. Then you let out a breathless, helpless laugh, pulling her face up to yours, kissing her despite all the filth she let drip out to cover her sweetness.
âFuck you,â you say between kisses, but thereâs no heat behind it, just the weight of relief and joy and everything else youâve been holding back. âHow do you win even when you lose?â
She smiles against your mouth, and you feel it in every part of you. âI guess Iâm just smarter than you.â
You do. You say it like itâs the easiest thing in the world. Like youâve spent the last year waiting for your chance.
âI love you, you idiot.â
She makes a soft sound, and for a second you think she might cry, but itâs just a laugh, bright and giddy and so fucking happy. âIâm glad you do.â
âYouâre a fucking nightmare,â you say as you shake your head, trying to hide the cartoonishly large smile she forced upon your face.
âAnd youâre stuck with me,â she says, kissing you again, her body melting into yours, all softness and satisfaction. Her voice dips, teasing, warm. âOr did you forget?â
âNever,â you murmur, and you mean it. Hell, youâd bet on it.
Her body shifts in response, her being melting into you, her skin sticky but hot against yours. âSo,â she says, and itâs light and breezy like that summer day still stuck in your memory, like youâre somehow back in a familiar rhythm, but new nonetheless. âYou really think you can handle me?â
You laugh, wrapping your arms around her. âIâve been handling you for years without the benefit of getting to fuck you.â
She pinches your side, but itâs playful, and you can tell sheâs trying not to smile. âAsshole.â
âYeah,â you say, kissing her forehead. âBut Iâm your asshole, now.â
She nods, and that alone was worth all the suffering. Because itâs honest.
âShit,â Chaewon breathes, your skin stuck together with dried cum, pulling loose from you. âWeâre a fucking mess.â
âYeah, well, itâs your fault for trying to be funny,â you say like youâre not covered in it too.
She shakes her head, and itâs like sheâs saying itâs your fault for not being the first to say you love her. âWe canât go to bed like this,â she proclaims, trying her best not to get too much filth on her sheets. âCâmon. Shower.â
âTogether?â you ask, and she just rolls her eyes like that was the stupidest fucking question youâve ever asked.
You follow her to the bathroom, the air chilly and the tile cool underfoot. She turns on the water of her shower, letting it heat up as she looks back over at you, one eyebrow lifting like sheâs pondering if she should just keep it to showering or not.
âGet in,â she says, pushing you towards the shower. âIâm not letting you sleep until youâre clean.â
Sheâs already stepping toward the shower when she realizes youâre still standing there. Her eyes narrow, but her lips curve. âWhat? Youâre dawdling now?â
You shrug, and she laughs. Itâs not the sound she makes when sheâs trying to get under your skin, but the one youâd almost forgotten she could make. Uncomplicated. Real.
She starts taking off the only thing she still has onâher thigh high socks that were the main culprit in why you failed to pick up a girl earlier tonight. You were way too busy admiring how good Chaewon looked, and it didnât go unnoticed.
âDonât tell me youâre expecting me to do it forââ
You catch her hand, stop her from peeling them off. She freezes, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.
âLetâs pretend I lost your three doors challenge,â you murmur, and you hear her breath catch. âItâd be a shame not to eat you out with how good you look in those.â
âSo you were staring! I fucking knew it,â she shouts gleefully.
You donât give it a response. You just hoist her up, and she wraps her legs around you like itâs instinct, gasping, more eager than surprised, as you let her ass meet the bathroom counter. You spread her thighs open to admire, sink to your knees in between them, and look up, getting lost in the way she looks down.
âOh my god,â she sighs out. âAre you reallyââ
You donât let her finish. You drag your tongue up her slit, and her head falls back, the sound of the shower almost drowning out her moan. Almost, but not quite.
âFuck,â she gasps, the first of many. âRight there. Oh, rightââ
You swirl your tongue around her clit, and her hips buck, her whole body trembling. Sheâs close already, too close, and you know you could end this in seconds, but you donât. Not yet.
Your hand slides up her thigh, and she shudders as you press a finger against her asshole, teasing, gentle. Her breath catches, and you feel her body tense, then relax, opening for you.
âShit,â she gasps, her voice breaking. âIâmâfuck, Iâm gonnaââ
You donât stop. You donât even slow down. You work her with your tongue and your fingers and your everything, and sheâs shaking.
âHoly fuck,â she gasps, her voice breaking. âYouâreâshitâyouâre better at this than explaining math problems.â
You groan, a low, rough sound, and the vibration makes her shudder. âCareful, I might bite.â
She laughs, knowing youâre all bark, and her fingers tangle in your hair, not quite pulling you closer, but not allowing escape either. âDonât stop,â she begs, and she wears it so well that ideas flood your mind. âIâm so fucking close.â
feel her body tense, tight and perfect around you. âRight there. Ohââ You curl your finger, the final bit of tension she needed to release, clenching hard, her hands in your hair, her body on fire. âOh God, ohââ
She cums hard, her body arching, her legs closing around your head as she cries out, the sound raw and desperate and so fucking good. Your finger slips out but keep your mouth on her, not letting up until sheâs shuddering, breathless, her hands tensed up tugging at you.
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â she gasps, and you feel the last tremors of her orgasm as they ripple through her. âHow did youâI canâtââ Sheâs lost for words, and itâs ammunition for next time you fight over something stupid.
You donât move until she tugs at you weakly, pulling you up, and the look in her eyes is almost enough to make you drop to your knees again.
You grab her hand, pulling her toward the shower, but she doesnât budge. Instead, she drops to her knees, fingers splayed on your thighs. âIâll admit, youâre pretty fucking good,â she says, her eyes gleaming with challenge. Everythingâs a competition with this girl. âBut Iâm better.â
You donât have time to respond. Her mouth is on you, hot and wet and perfect, and you groan, your head falling back. She works you with a skill you didnât think she had, her tongue swirling, her lips tight, and all you can do is hold on.
She pulls back, and the sudden loss makes you gasp. âFeel free to cum wherever you want,â she muses, and your mind floods with options. All too enticing.
Her pace is relentless, precise, and you feel her smile around you, a smug curve against your skin. Sheâs rapidly proving her point.
âChaewon,â you groan, and youâre not sure if youâre leading into begging or commanding. âFuck, that feelsââ
She hums, a low, teasing sound, and the vibration makes you curse. Her fingers slide down, cupping your balls, and you feel yourself throb against her tongue.
Youâre close, too close, and she knows it. You can tell by the way she pulls back again, her lips glistening, her eyes wild. âIâm not done with you,â she says, and you swear you might die.
âFuck my face,â she says, and you tremble, your whole body going tight.
âChaewon,â you gasp, but sheâs already got you begging for more, her hands on your thighs, guiding you inside.
You thrust, and she takes it, takes you, her mouth so fucking good you canât believe this is real. She moans and gags around you, and itâs a sound youâll hear in your dreams for the rest of your life.
She looks up, her mouth full, and the sight is obscene, incredible. Sheâs not stopping, not giving you a second to catch your breath, just letting you use her, and itâs all too fucking much.
Youâre so close, the heat building, your control slipping. You fuck her face, your hands tight in her hair, and sheâs caught between you and the counter, letting you use her, letting you lose yourself.
âOh God, Chaewon,â you groan, your thrusts erratic, desperate. âIâm gonnaââ
She pulls back, and you gasp, her lips getting pressed against the tip of your dick. She strokes you, her lips swollen and wet, andâ
âDo it,â she commands, tilting her head back, presenting her face and her tits and her abs and every target you could choose, her eyes pleading to cover not one but all. âCome all over me.â
Thatâs it. Thatâs fucking it. You cum hard, your whole body tensing, and she moans as your release hits her face, her lips, her cheek, her chest.
âFuck,â you groan, and she smiles, licking her lips, and youâre so spent you almost collapse right there.
Then sheâs pulling you down, kissing you, and you taste yourself on her tongue.
âAt least I was worth the wait, right?â she murmurs, and you pull back just far enough to see the way sheâs grinning, the way sheâs looking at you like she thinks she won. If only she saw herself right now, youâre clearly the winner.
âThink Iâm ready for that shower now,â you say, and you canât help but smile back, because youâre a mess, and sheâs a mess, and you came into this room specifically to be less of a mess; and you love it. You love her.
The water is still running, heating up the room, and you both stand up. She pulls you with her, and the water makes quick work of the art you just made. What a waste, but a waste you love to spend with her.
She notices your face change as the cum disappears from her visage, and chuckles lightly. âYouâll get plenty of other chances.â
You wash her and she washes you back, and itâs slow and easy and comfortable. Like you never thought it could be again. But better. No rush, no desperation. She works the shampoo into your hair, but you canât stand to not annoy her for another second, pulling her under the spray and rinsing her off.
âHey,â she protests, but sheâs smiling, her eyes bright.
âHey yourself,â you say, dragging your thumb across her cheek, her lips, her collarbone. âThink I like you like this.â
âWet?â she asks, and sheâs teasing, but thereâs a softness behind it.
âThat too. But no. Mine,â you say, and her expression shifts, her eyes going soft, her hands coming to rest on your chest.
âYou know,â she says, her voice quiet, thoughtful, âThat makes you equally mine.â
You tilt her chin up, kissing her, and she melts into it, into you. âI guess that means we both won today.â
She laughs, and itâs the best sound, the best feeling, the best everything. âGuess I can get used to it if itâs with you.â
Eventually you turn off the tap, and she shivers as you wrap her in a towel, pulling her close. âBed?â you ask, and she nods, simple and easy.
She helps you dry off, and you help her, and you just canât let each other be right now. She tugs at you, at your hand, constantly leading you, hair still wild and just damp enough to be okay going to bed with. She slips beneath the covers fully naked, but itâs too cold to worry about any of that, so you follow.
You pull her against you, or she pushes herself into you. Itâs hard to tell whoâs more desperate. Point is, her back is against your chest, and it fits perfectly. Like she was made for it.
âSo,â she says, her voice a sleepy mumble, âare you gonna lose your shit if I say itâs fifty-fifty again?â
You groan, exasperated and affectionate, and she giggles, burying her face in your neck.
âChaewon,â you say, and she turns just enough to look at you.
âHmm?â
You wrap your arms around her, holding her, holding everything. âYouâre fucking annoying. Never change.â
She smiles, soft and genuine, and you know this is the real win. Not the game, not the challenge, not the give and take of a thousand heated mathematical argumentsâbut this. Her. You. Together.
âPromise,â she whispers, and you feel her breath slow, feel her body relax, feel the unlikeliest odds settle in your favor.
You hold her tighter, and the silence this time is comfortable, a weightless, blissful quiet that lulls you both toward sleep. You barely hear her next words, but they seep into you, the last sweet, stubborn thing you need to know.
Enami Asa x Huh Yunjin x Jeon Somi x Lee Chaeyoung x Ning Yizhuo x Yeh Shuhua x m!reader
You've been sitting here for three or maybe four hours. You're not sure anymore. The numbers on your laptop stopped making sense a long time ago, but you're finally close to finishing your review for Tuesday's exam.
At some point over the years, this corner of the library basically became your spot. Your territory. Nobody ever comes back here. Seriously, nobody. You could probably disappear into this corner for weeks and they'd only notice sometime next winter.
The shelves are packed with dusty reference books nobody's touched since, apparently, 2011. The closest outlet had been hidden behind a filing cabinet you literally had to drag aside yourself.
It's the perfect place for the absolute silence studying requires. Completely forgotten by society.
Nothing bad could possibly happen here.
Then two hands suddenly cover your eyes from behind, and before you can react, a soft, sugary voice drifts right beside your ear, "Guess who."
...
Well.
Looks like your territory's been invaded.
You reach up, thumb brushing across her knuckles. Small hands. Smooth skin. Expensive perfume. "Gotta be the janitor," you say. "Pretty sure we're moving way too fast, though."
The hands pull back immediately. Then a tiny offended noise. Footsteps around the table.
"Ha. Ha. You're sooo funny, nerd. I like you already.â
Enami Asa steps into your line of sight and every coherent thought you had about thermodynamic equilibrium just evaporates. She's wearing all black. Cropped top, short skirt, boots that go halfway up her calves. Red lipstick that makes ignoring her full lips completely impossible. Her black hair falls straight past her shoulders and she's looking at you with this amused little tilt of her head.
You blink hard and rub your eyes.
Enami Asa: one of the most beautiful girls on campus. Right there, in the dead zone of the university library. Staring at you. What the fuck is happening?
"You know you're insanely hard to find, right?" she says, placing her backpack on the table before dropping into the chair across from you. She crosses her legs and leans back, eyes drifting over the dusty shelves. "Do you always hide out back here? I literally did two full laps around the building.â
"I was studying," you say, closing your laptop halfway. "Can I help you with something?"
She grins. Not in a nice way.
And you're not dumb. You get it. You've spent enough time here to understand how the whole social hierarchy thing works. Girls like Asa don't go looking for guys like you in some forgotten library corner unless they want something. Notes. Homework help. A study guide. Some favor they can cash in with a cute smile and forget about a few hours later.
"You can, actually," she says. "In fact, you might be the only person who can help me right now."
"That's a bold statement."
"I'm a bold girl," she says, adjusting in her seat until she's comfortable. Then she casually drops, like this is the most normal topic ever, "So there's this challenge going around on Twitter."
"X."
"Eat shit, it's literally the same app." She waves you off. "Anyway. It's trending right now. Me and my friends got into it too. Sort of a competition, I guess. NSFW stuff.â
Your pen stops moving.
"OhâŠ"
"Yeah." Now she's fully studying your face, looking way too entertained by the horror slowly spreading across it. "The idea's simple. You record yourself getting facefucked, upload it, get some likes, drive more people to your OF. Then gooners start ranking clips and arguing in the comments over which one's best. It's become this whole thing. Hashtags and all.â
You look left. You look right. You check behind you to make sure nobody has a camera pointed at this table. "Are you serious right now?" you ask.
"Of course I'm serious," she says, sounding almost offended. "Why the hell would I walk all the way to the ass end of this library and say that kind of shit to a guy like you if I wasn't serious?"
"I genuinely don't know. It's just... a pretty strange request."
"Don't be scared. Be flattered."
"I am neither of those things." You lean back in your chair. "Look, there are like ten thousand guys at this school. You literally have a different one on your arm every week. Go ask one of them."
Asa shakes her head. Just one slow motion. "Nah. Can't do that. We set a rule that every one of us has to find a different guy for the video." She leans back a little. "Has to be a nerd. Someone who'd normally have zero chance with any of us. That's the whole trend."
You stare at her for a few long seconds. "Damn, Asa. Really appreciate you putting me in the 'absolutely no shot' category.â
She laughs, loud enough that it echoes through the shelves and instantly makes you paranoid someone nearby heard the conversation. "Don't take it like that. Seriously. It's not even an insult. Think of it as charity." Her head tilts slightly. "Besides..." Her eyes narrow a little as she looks at you. "You've actually got something going on. Nerd glasses, messy hair⊠It's kinda cute."
"Amazing. Please engrave that on my grave."
"Stop being so dramatic."
"No. That's my final answer," you say immediately. "Find another victim.â
Asa gets to her feet. Then she does something that completely fries your remaining brain cells. She circles the table at an annoyingly calm pace and sits right in your lap. Just... casually. Her arm drapes over your shoulder while she gives you this ridiculous pout.
"Pleeease?" she says, all soft and sweet. "It'll take like five minutes. Nobody comes back here anyway. You've been hiding in this corner for hours and not one person walked past." She adjusts herself slightly. âI just need you to lend your cock and hold the phone. That's it."
You blink at her. "I can't believe this trend actually exists."
"Oh, it exists.â She already has her phone out. She pulls it from her skirt pocket and drops back onto your lap, scrolling lazily. âSee? Hashtag RuinThePrettyFace. It blew up like four days ago.â
She holds the phone inches from your face. One clip after another. Smudged eyeliner. Sloppy expressions. Girls posing for the camera after getting absolutely wrecked. Your eyebrows climb higher with every swipe. Then she opens her own profile. Asaâs account is basically curated nude photography. Soft lighting. artsy filters. Careful angles. Nude after nude after nude.
"Because I have dignity. And you should try having some too. What you're describing is slutty."
She pulls back just enough to look you dead in the eyes. Zero shame. Zero hesitation. "But I am a slut," she says simply. "So that argument doesn't really work on me. Please," she repeats. "I'll do anything."
"Anything?â
"Anything." A pause. Then she laughs, catching herself. "Well. I can't exactly offer you sex as a reward because that's basically what's already going to happen. So that's off the table as a bargaining chip." She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Buuut you'll have my gratitude. My eternal, undying gratitude!â
"And what the fuck am I supposed to do with your gratitude?"
"I don't know, maybe shove it up your ass and stop playing hard to get?!" She hops off your lap and does a little spin in the aisle between shelves, arms out, letting you look. She stops facing you, one hand on her hip. "Look at me," she demands. "I'm hot. I'm perfect. Any guy on this campus would sell a kidney to be sitting where you're sitting right now. And you're telling me no? Be so fucking for real, dude.â
You rub your temples. "You're actually insane."
"Maybe. But I'm also not leaving until you say yes. I'll sit here all night. I'll follow you to your car. I'll show up at your next class. I will make this so much worse for you if you keep being difficult."
"That's called harassment."
"Call campus security then. Tell them Enami Asa won't stop asking you to let her suck your dick. See how much sympathy you get."
You let out a long breath through your nose. She's got you cornered and she knows it. You can see it all over her pretty face already, that smug little grin spreading because she's realized she's winning.
"Fuck me..." you mutter.
"Is that a yes?!"
You close your laptop with a soft click. Pinch the bridge of your nose beneath your glasses. Then you look up at her. At the ridiculously gorgeous girl standing between rows of dusty shelves in that little black outfit, red lips, and absolutely zero sense of shame. You make a decision that's either going to haunt you forever or randomly hit you at age eighty and make you smile. "Fine. Make it quick.â
Asa actually lights up. She bounces on her heels and claps once before she can stop herself. "Yes! Okay! Perfect!" She grins at you. "You seriously won't regret this.â
"I already regret this." She starts to lower herself to her knees right there, but you raise a hand and she freezes. "Wait," you say. "Can we at least make out a little first? Just to, you know⊠set the mood. I can't just go from thermodynamics to getting my dick sucked with no transition."
She stares at you for a second before rolling her eyes so hard it's honestly impressive.
"Oh my god." A sigh. "Fine. Sure. Whatever you need."
She comes back and sits on your lap again, this time facing you fully, her knees on either side of your thighs in the library chair. Your hands find her waist on pure instinct, settling on the strip of bare skin between her top and her skirt. She's warm. Unbelievably warm.
"You're unfairly hot, by the way. I'm having a hard time believing this is a real situation right now."
"I know," she says immediately, completely shameless. Her hands slide onto your shoulders. "Now enough with the compliments. Kiss me.â
You kiss her. It starts slow because you're still half convinced this is an elaborate prank and someone's going to jump out from behind the reference section with a camera. But Asa's lips are soft and she tastes like mint and whatever that expensive lipstick is made of, and your brain stops looking for the trap pretty quickly. Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs pressing into the narrow strip of bare skin above her skirt. She's tiny under your palms. You can almost feel her ribs.
She's good at this. Obviously she's good at this. Her tongue finds yours and she tilts her head just right, and there's this little sound that comes out of her, this quiet, pleased hum against your mouth that makes your fingers tighten on her waist without you meaning to. She shifts on your lap, pressing closer, and her hands slide from your shoulders to the back of your neck.
You're getting into it. Really getting into it. Your hand starts to drift up her side and she makes another sound, breathier this time, and you can feel the vibration of it through her whole body. Then she turns her head, breaking the kiss, and her palm lands flat on your chest. "Okay, okay. Enough."
"What?"
"I said enough." She wipes the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger, checking for smudges. "You're going to ruin my lipstick before we even start. My makeup needs to get destroyed on camera, not during the warm up."
"You have very specific priorities."
"I have excellent priorities." She rolls her hips once on your lap, settling her weight, and then goes completely still. You watch her expression shift. Her eyes drop down between your bodies, then come back up to your face. "Well," she says, and there's something new in the way she's looking at you. "I think we can start."
She picks up her phone from the table, slides off your lap, and drops to her knees on the library carpet. She taps the screen a few times, opens the camera app, and holds the phone out to you. "Here. You're filming."
You take it. "Vertical or horizontal?"
âOf course itâs vertical. This is Twitter content, not cinema.â
You angle the phone. She reaches for your belt. Her fingers work the buckle loose, then the button, then the zipper, and she's efficient about it, tugging your jeans down your thighs with a little help from you lifting your hips. Your boxers are still on. The outline of you through the fabric is, well⊠it's pretty obvious.
Asa pauses. Her hands don't move, still resting at your waistband, but her eyes do. They settle on the bulge and stay there.
"Huh?'' she mutters.
Then she pulls your boxers down. Your cock springs free and bobs once, heavy and thick, settling against your lower stomach. The shaft is fat, veiny, flushed. In the dim lighting of the library corner, it looks even bigger than usual, and Asa is just kneeling there, looking at it, her hands frozen in midair. "Wow," she says quietly. Then, louder, like she's trying to convince herself as much as you. "Okay. This might be harder than I imagined."
You look down at her. "You can always give up."
Her head snaps up. The shock on her face converts instantly to pure, offended determination. "Excuse me? You think I'm afraid of a big cock? Are you seriously sitting there telling Enami Asa to give up?"
"I'm just saying."
"Don't underestimate me." She wraps her fingers around the base and the tips barely meet her thumb. She stares at that for a second, jaw flexing, then shakes it off. "Okay. Here's how this works. I'm going to suck your dick first. Get it nice and wet, do my thing. Then when I tap your thigh twice, like this," she demonstrates, two quick pats on your leg, "that's your signal. That means you can start fucking my face. Got it?" You nod. "Use one hand for the phone, one hand on the back of my head. And keep the angle tight on my face. This isn't about you, this is about me looking good."
"And then looking bad."
"And then looking incredible while looking bad." She adjusts her position on her knees, straightens her back, flips her hair over one shoulder. "You can start recording."
You hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.
The shift is immediate. Asa was already pretty, already the kind of person who pulled attention without trying, but the second the camera goes live, something changes. Something clicks into place. Her posture straightens slightly. Her chin lifts. A slow smile pulls at her lips. Suddenly she isn't looking at you anymore. She's looking at the lens. Looking at the people on the other side of it. The ones who'll watch this alone in bed at some stupid hour of the night.
And just like that, she's performing.
She leans forward and presses her lips to the tip of your cock. Just a kiss. The red lipstick leaves a faint mark on your skin and she pulls back to admire it, still smiling at the camera. Then her tongue comes out, flat and pink, and she drags it across the head in one slow pass. Another kiss, this time on the underside, right where the shaft meets the ridge. She's teasing. Taking her time. Making sure the camera catches every angle of her pretty face against your thick cock.
She licks a long stripe from the base to the tip, her dark eyes locked on the lens the entire time. Then another. Then she swirls her tongue around the head, slow and wet, collecting the precum that's already beading at the slit. She holds it on her tongue for a beat, letting the camera see it, then swallows and licks her lips clean.
She opens her mouth and takes you in. The feeling is insane. Her mouth is hot and tight and her tongue does this thing where it presses flat against the underside of your shaft as she sinks down, creating this slick pressure that makes your toes curl in your shoes. She takes about half of you on the first pass, which given the girth is genuinely impressive, and her cheeks hollow as she pulls back up.
And she looks so fucking beautiful doing it. Enami Asa, on her knees on the library floor, with her black outfit and her red lipstick and her sharp little face stuffed full of your cock. The visual is so absurd, so completely disconnected from everything your life has been up to this point, that you almost forget to keep the phone steady.
She sucks you with purpose. Bobbing her head in a steady rhythm, taking a little more each time, letting the spit build up until it's coating your shaft in a slick layer. She pulls off with a wet sound and spits on your cock, a thick string that drips down the length, and then her fist wraps around you and pumps, spreading it, twisting at the head. She jacks you off with both hands for a few strokes, watching the way your cock throbs in her grip, and then she's back on it, hungrier this time.
You can feel her jaw stretching around you. Can see the effort in the way her brow furrows slightly, the way her throat works as she tries to accommodate the width. But she doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. She finds her rhythm and sticks with it, her head moving in smooth, controlled bobs, her lips sealed tight, her tongue working the underside.
She pulls off just long enough to glance up at you. Not at the camera this time. At you.
"You better be getting my good side," she murmurs, her fist still pumping slowly.
"You're kind of busy to be giving direction."
"I'm always giving direction." She licks the tip once more, then sinks back down.
A minute passes. The wet sounds of her mouth on you fill the quiet corner of the library, obscenely loud in the silence. Spit drips from her chin onto her black top. Her lipstick is starting to smear, red bleeding past the edges of her lips, staining your shaft in uneven rings.
Then you feel it. Two quick taps on your thigh. She takes you back into her mouth, both hands dropping to rest on your knees, and tilts her head up so the camera can catch her full face. Her eyes are glassy. Her lips are swollen. She looks up at you through her lashes and gives the smallest nod.
You adjust the phone in your right hand, making sure the frame is tight on her face. Then your left hand slides to the back of her head, fingers threading through her dark hair, and you grip.
Your fingers tighten in her hair. You guide her head forward, slow, feeling the resistance of her throat as your cock pushes deeper than she was taking it on her own. Asa's hands grip your knees and her jaw stretches wide, lips pulling taut around your girth. She gags once, a tight spasm at the back of her throat, and you pull her back. She gasps, spit connecting her lower lip to your shaft in a thin strand, and before she can fully recover you push her down again.
The rhythm is careful at first. You're testing how much she can handle, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flex against your legs. Each push goes a little deeper. Each pull gives her just enough time to suck in a quick breath before you feed her your cock again. The wet sounds are filthy in the silence of the library. Every gag, every slick glide of her lips echoes off the bookshelves.
Asa's brow creases. She's concentrating, trying to relax her throat, but the girth keeps catching her. You can feel it, the involuntary tightening each time the thickest part of your shaft hits the back of her mouth. Her eyes water. Not crying, just the reflexive response of her body fighting what her brain has decided it's going to do. She breathes hard through her nose, hot bursts against your pelvis, and pushes through.
You set a pace. Your hand guides her head in smooth bobs, your hips rolling up to meet her on the downstroke. Spit builds and spills from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin in messy lines. The red lipstick is wrecked now, smeared in wide streaks across her cheeks and along your shaft, leaving your cock painted in uneven bands of crimson. Her mascara holds for a while, longer than you'd expect, but the constant watering finally wins and dark smudges start bleeding beneath her lower lashes.
She pulls off your cock abruptly, gasping, a thick rope of saliva stretching from her lips to your head before snapping and landing on her chin. She coughs once, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the lipstick further. Her eyes are glassy and red rimmed when she looks up at you.
"How is it," she asks between breaths. "How do I look?"
You angle the phone down at her, making sure the frame catches everything. The ruined lipstick, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the spit glistening on her chin and neck, the way her usually perfect hair is sticking to the damp skin of her forehead.
"Beautiful," you say. "Completely ruined. You look incredible."
"Good," she says. "That's the point." She opens her mouth and takes you back in, and this time you don't start slow. Your grip tightens in her hair and you thrust up into her mouth with real intent, your hips snapping, the back of her throat meeting your cock on every stroke. Asa groans around you, the sound vibrating through your entire shaft, and her hands fly to your thighs for balance.
The pace is punishing now. Her head bobs in your grip, guided by your hand, and the sounds coming from her mouth are obscene. Wet, choked, guttural. Drool pours freely, coating your balls, dripping onto the carpet between her knees. Her black top is spotted with dark wet patches. She gags hard on a deep thrust and you hold her there for a second, your cock buried to the hilt, her nose pressed against your pelvis, feeling her throat convulse around you before you let her up.
She pulls back just far enough to breathe, her lips still brushing the head, and looks up at you with those ruined, watery eyes.
"Fuck," she pants. "This cock is so thick. I can barely fit it in my mouth." She jacks you with one hand, spit making the motion effortless, her small fingers unable to close around the circumference. "How does a little nerd end up with something like this? It's not fair."
"Genetics," you manage.
"Shut up." She licks a flat stripe up the underside, collecting the mess of spit and precum. "I'm serious, this thing is fat. My jaw is going to be sore for a week." She presses her lips to the head, almost affectionately, then opens wide and takes you deep again.
You fuck her face harder. The library is dead quiet except for the relentless, sloppy rhythm of your cock in her throat. Asa has given up trying to look composed. Her eyes are squeezed shut, tears cutting clean tracks through her smudged mascara. Her cheeks are flushed pink beneath the mess of ruined makeup. Spit and drool coat her entire chin, dripping in long strings onto her chest. She looks nothing like the sharp, immaculate girl who sat down across from you twenty minutes ago.
She looks better.
Your balls tighten. The pressure that's been building low in your stomach pulls into a hard knot and you feel the edge approaching fast. Asa must feel it too, the way your cock swells, the way your grip shifts in her hair, because her eyes open and lock onto yours. She doesn't pull back. She grabs your hip with one hand and pulls you deeper, taking your cock into her throat until her lips stretch around the base, and holds herself there.
You cum. The first shot fires directly into her throat and Asa's eyes go wide. You can see the muscles in her neck working, trying to swallow around the sudden flood. Your cock pulses again, a second thick load, then a third, each one making her throat bob as she struggles to keep up. It's a lot. More than she expected, clearly, because her eyes start to water fresh and you can hear this strained, gurgling sound as she tries to swallow without pulling off.
She manages. Barely. Her throat works overtime, gulping, swallowing, her fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave marks. Some of it escapes, a thick white trail leaking from the corner of her sealed lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her collarbone. She stays on you through the last few pulses, her throat milking every drop, until you finally stop throbbing and your grip in her hair loosens.
Asa pulls off slowly. Your cock slides from between her lips with a slick, heavy sound, and she sits back on her heels, breathing hard.
Her face is destroyed. The red lipstick exists only in faint, smeared traces across her cheeks and chin. Her mascara has bled into dark streaks that reach almost to her jawline. Her eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in red, lashes clumped together with moisture. Drool and cum coat her chin, her neck, the front of her top. Her hair is tangled and damp where your fingers gripped it.
She looks at the camera and smiles. This wide, satisfied, absolutely filthy smile, cum still glistening on her lower lip. She holds the look for a few seconds, letting the camera drink it in.
You stop recording. The timer reads eleven minutes and forty seven seconds. Your thumb hits the red button and the screen freezes on the last frame. Asa on her knees, wrecked, smiling. "How'd it turn out," she asks, her speech slightly hoarse. She reaches for the water bottle on the table and takes a long drink.
You scroll back through the footage, skimming. "Pretty good, actually. You have a genuine talent for this."
"I have a talent for most things." She holds her hand out. "Let me see." You pass her the phone and she watches sections of the clip, scrubbing through with her thumb, pausing on certain moments. Her expression is clinical now, analytical. She's reviewing footage, not reliving the experience.
"When are you posting it," you ask, pulling your boxers back up, getting your jeans situated.
"Probably tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. I still need to throw the video into Premiere and polish the edit a bit.â
"...You're editing blowjob footage in Premiere. Okay, sure. I don't know why I'm still surprised."
"Well yeah?" She looks at you like you're the weird one. "The lighting back here was awful. I need to fix the exposure, warm up the colors a little, cut out the dead space at the beginning..." She swipes through the footage. "Probably clean up the framing too. Blur anything that points back to you. Add captions⊠I'm not uploading raw footage. Be serious.â
You stare at her. "Is all that really necessary? It's a blowjob video, not a short film."
"It is absolutely necessary. You can't just upload raw footage like some amateur. Quality matters. Presentation matters. This is going on my page, and my page has an aesthetic."
She puts the phone down, reaches for her backpack on the table, and pulls out a small face towel and a compact mirror. She flips the mirror open and examines her reflection, tilting her head side to side, cataloguing the damage. Then she starts cleaning up, wiping the mascara streaks, the spit, the residue from her chin and neck.
"Thank you, by the way," she says, not looking up from the mirror. "Your dick is really nice. Genuinely. It looked great in the video. The size contrast between me and that thing is pretty hot."
"Thank you. I guess."
"You're welcome. I guess." She mimics your tone without missing a beat, still dabbing at her face. "You can leave now. I need to finish putting myself back together and I can't do that with you watching me."
You gather your laptop, your notes, your pens. Everything goes into your backpack. You zip it shut and stand up, pushing the chair back under the table. "Hey. One thing."
"What."
"Change my voice in the video. Pitch it up or down, whatever. Just alter it enough that nobody can identify me."
She waves dismissively. "Already planned on it. I'll run it through a filter. I'm a pro at this stuff." She meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection. "Now bye."
"Bye, Asa." You sling your backpack over your shoulder and walk out of the dead zone of the library, past the dusty reference shelves, back toward the main floor where normal people are doing normal things. The late afternoon sun hits you through the library's front windows as you push through the doors. Fresh air fills your lungs. You adjust your glasses, fix your hair, and start walking toward the parking lot.
It was a little degrading. You're aware of that. You just let a girl you barely know use you for content, boss you around, and treat you like a prop in her social media strategy. That part stings, a bit, if you think about it too hard.
On the other hand, it was also one of the best orgasms of your life. So maybe sitting with it too long isn't necessary.
â
The girls have officially taken over the theater lobby.
Ningâs holding a popcorn bucket almost as big as she is, carefully picking out the best coated pieces first. Shuhua has already loaded up on candy and a slushie. Yunjinâs in the middle of debating the water bottle policy with the cashier. Somiâs texting someone nonstop. Chaeyoung is fully invested in the ingredients list on a candy box for reasons nobody understands. Asa is standing slightly apart from the group, examining her nails.
âHas anyone recorded it yet?" Ning asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "The challenge, I mean. I haven't even picked a guy."
General murmurs of negation ripple through the group. Shuhua shakes her head. Yunjin is still fighting the cashier. Somi doesn't look up from her phone. Chaeyoung quietly puts the candy box back on the shelf.
"I have," Asa says.
Every head turns.
"Already?" Shuhua's eyes go wide. "It's been like two days since we agreed on this."
"It was this afternoon, actually." Asa inspects a cuticle with surgical focus. "I finished about four hours ago."
Ning abandons her popcorn curation entirely. "Send it. Right now. Group chat."
"Absolutely not. I haven't finished editing. The raw footage needs color correction, the audio is unbalanced, and I want to add text overlays for theâ"
"Oh my god, just send the raw version,â Ning groans.
"No. You'll see it when it's ready."
Shuhua leans in, lowering her tone even though nobody else in the lobby is paying attention. "Is it someone from our college?"
"Yes."
"Someone we know?"
Asa lets out a short laugh. âAbsolutely not. Heâs literally just some random library guy. Total loser. But Jesus Christ, his dick is huge. Like, weirdly huge. I was not mentally prepared for that at all.â Ning's eyebrows climb her forehead. "It was fucking hard to handle," Asa continues, touching her throat absently. "My throat still hurts a little, honestly. The girth on that thing was insane."
"The quiet ones always pack," Yunjin offers, having apparently won her water bottle argument. She rejoins the group with the confidence of a courtroom victor. "It's like a rule of the universe."
Chaeyoung has been quiet this whole time, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. She clears her throat softly. "I've been thinking, and I might not do the challenge. I don't think I can just walk up to some random guy and ask him to, you know. I'd rather die."
Somi finally looks up from her phone. She crosses the gap between them in two long strides and puts her hand on Chaeyoung's shoulder. Firm. Decisive. "You're not backing out," Somi tells her. "I won't allow it."
"But I literally cannot approach a stranger and say those things to his face. I would combust."
"Then don't. You're recording with me. We'll do it as a duo."
Chaeyoung blinks. "Wait, really?"
Yunjin nods encouragingly. "If you want, we can help you find someone too. I know a few guys in my econ lecture who would probably pass out if you looked at them."
Somi cuts her off. "No need. I already have someone picked out. Chae records with me, I handle the talking, she just needs to show up and look pretty." She squeezes Chaeyoung's shoulder. "Easy."
Relief floods Chaeyoung's face. "Okay. If we're doing it together, then yeah. I'm in. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just bring lip gloss and a hair tie."
Asa tilts her head, considering the arrangement. "A duo is smart, actually. The contrast will look really good on camera. Two girls, one cock. The timeline will eat that up."
"It's going to be so hot," Ning agrees, pulling out her phone to check the trending hashtag.
Armed with popcorn, candy, and oversized drinks, the six of them file into the theater. They talk about the movie previews, assignments, dumb campus gossip. As if theyâre not all going into this week with the exact same goal: finding someone with a nice dick.
â
The next day arrives. You're walking through the main corridor on the second floor, laptop bag over your shoulder, earbuds in, heading toward your next lecture. The hallway is busy. Students moving between classes, conversations overlapping, the usual controlled chaos of midday foot traffic.
"Hey, you!"
You don't react. That shout belongs to someone else's life.
"Hey! I'm talking to you! Glasses!"
Still probably not you. Lots of people wear glasses. You keep walking. Fast footsteps come up behind you, then a manicured hand lands on your shoulder and whips you around surprisingly hard.
Jeon Somi stands in front of you.
Blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves. A designer jacket thrown over a top thatâs doing absolutely nothing to hide her massive breasts. Long legs wrapped in fitted jeans. Sharp cheekbones, light brown eyes, and a look that feels dangerously close to a threat.
âAre you deaf?â she asks bluntly.
âSorry. Didnât realize you were talking to me. People donât usually yell at me in hallways.â
âYeah, I can tell.â Her gaze drags over you from head to toe, quick but thorough, leaving you feeling weirdly inspected. âYouâre coming with me.â
âWhere? Why?â
She doesn't answer. She grabs your hand and starts walking. Not beside you. Ahead of you. Pulling you behind her like a rolling suitcase. Her grip is strong and her strides are long and you have to half jog to keep up without tripping. People notice immediately. Heads turn. Conversations pause. You catch students doing double takes as you pass. Two guys from your programming class nearly short-circuit when they see Jeon Somi towing you down the hall.
And yeah, you get why. Everyone knows who she is. The leaked nude scandal last semester made sure of that. So did the endless rumors afterward, the guys sheâs been seen with, the stories people tell about her like sheâs some campus celebrity. Someone like her choosing someone like you feels fundamentally wrong to everyone watching.
By tomorrow, half the school is probably going to know your name too.
Somi takes you up a stairwell. First floor, second floor, third floor. Down a corridor that gets progressively emptier. Past classrooms that are clearly in use, then past ones that aren't. The fluorescent lights up here flicker intermittently. One of the ceiling tiles has a water stain shaped like Florida.
"Somi. What do you want so badly that you had to physically drag me across the building."
"It's just a favor," she says over her shoulder.
And there it is. That word again. Favor. The exact same word Asa used yesterday at your table in the library, right before she dropped the most insane proposition youâd ever heard in your life. Suddenly the pieces line up perfectly in your head. They know each other. Asa and Somi. Same friend group. Same social circle. Same weird fucking challenge.
Yesterday it was Asa. Today itâs Somi.
You stop walking and pull your hand free from her grip. She turns around, annoyed, "What?!"
"This is about that challenge. The Twitter thing."
Somi stares at you for a beat. "You know about it?"
"I'm familiar, yeah."
"Great. So I don't need to waste time explaining." She folds her arms under her chest, drawing your attention exactly where she probably expects it to go. âAre you in?â
"Why me specifically?"
"Because you're the most pathetic looking guy on this campus." She says it without a shred of hesitation or remorse. "But you're also decent enough that I wouldn't gag just from touching your dick. That's a narrow window, and congratulations, you fit through it."
"That's the worst compliment anyone has ever given me."
"It wasn't a compliment." The two of you are standing outside a classroom at the very end of the corridor. A laminated sign taped to the door reads CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE.
"This is where you picked," you say, looking at the sign. "A room that's closed for maintenance."
"Nobody will come in here. It's been shut for two weeks."
"A ceiling panel could literally fall on our heads."
"It's not going to." She pushes the handle and the door swings open. "Stop making excuses and get in."
You step into the classroom. The room is dim, lit only by thin strips of sunlight slipping through the blinds along the far wall. Desks have been shoved aside in crooked rows, and dust drifts lazily through the light. Half-erased equations still cover the whiteboard, leftovers from whatever class used this room last. And at the front of the room, perched casually on the professorâs desk, is a girl youâve seen around campus but never spoken to. She has a pretty, sculpted face, big round eyes and dark hair with faint highlights catching the light. She's wearing an oversized cream colored sweater and a plaid skirt; the whole look makes her seem way too cozy and cute for a place this depressing.
She sneezes violently out of nowhere.
âSomi!â she groans, rubbing at her nose. âThis room is disgusting. Iâve been here fifteen minutes and Iâm pretty sure Iâve developed lung disease.â
"Stop being dramatic, Chae. A little dust never killed anyone." She closes the door behind you and strides further into the room. She motions between you and the girl on the desk like sheâs hosting introductions at some awkward social event. âThis is the guy I was talking about. Nerd boy, meet Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung, meet nerd boy.â
Chaeyoung hops down from the desk, landing lightly on her sneakers. Sheâs almost the same height as Somi, though Somi still has a couple inches on her. "I've seen you around before," she says. "You're usually in the library, right? Or sitting by the fountain near the engineering building."
"Yeah, that's my usual orbit."
"We've never actually spoken, though." She extends her hand. "I'm Chaeyoung. Lee Chaeyoung."
You shake it. Her grip is gentle, her palm warm. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too."
Finally, you think. Someone with basic social skills and a functioning sense of decency. You glance between the two of them. They're both wearing a noticeable amount of makeup. Chaeyoung has this soft, glowy look, peachy tones and delicate details. Somi went heavier. Contoured cheekbones, defined brows, lips glossed to a mirror finish. They look like they're ready for a photoshoot, not a afternoon on the third floor of a building with water stained ceiling tiles.
"Great," Somi announces, clapping her hands once. "Now that we all know each other and we've done the little handshake thing, let's record."
You lean against one of the pushed aside desks. "Can I ask what the point of this is? Genuinely. What do either of you gain from recording this?"
"Likes," Somi says immediately. "Followers. Engagement. Clout. Take your pick."
"And that's worth it?"
"We don't care what you think. It's none of your business what we do with the video." She crosses her arms. "You're here to provide a service. That's it."
Chaeyoung shifts her weight, tugging at the cuff of her oversized sweater. "I almost gave up on the whole thing, honestly. I know it's kind of crazy. Like, objectively, this is insane behavior."
"It is insane behavior," you confirm.
"But she's here now," Somi cuts in, putting her arm around Chaeyoung's shoulders. "And she is not backing down. Right, Chae?"
"Right. Yeah. I'm here. I'm doing it."
Somi turns her attention back to you, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Speaking of which. Your dick. Is it at least big? Because I swear to god, if I dragged you up three flights of stairs and you pull out a micropenis, I will be furious."
"It's decent."
"Decent, huh? That's exactly what guys say when they have a tiny cock. Every single time. 'It's decent.' 'It gets the job done.' And then you pull their pants down and it's like finding a AA battery in a sock."
"That's a very specific image. Sounds like you're speaking from experience."
"Don't test me right now."
Chaeyoung steps forward, putting herself slightly between you and Somi. "Can you stop being so mean to him? He's already doing us a favor by agreeing to this. The least you can do is be civil."
Somi rolls her eyes with her entire body. Her head tilts back, her shoulders drop, her hands fly up. "Please. Look at him, Chae. Look at this guy. He has never received a blowjob in his life. We are going to be the first people to ever touch his dick. He should be on his knees thanking us for the privilege."
"That's not true," you say. "I've had sex before."
"Sure you have."
"I'm serious. I actually got a blowjob yesterday."
Both of them look at you. Chaeyoung with genuine curiosity. Somi with theatrical disbelief. "Oh, really?" Somi takes a step closer, tilting her head. "Who gave you a blowjob yesterday? Name and surname, please."
The name almost leaves your mouth. It sits right there on the tip of your tongue, ready to go. And for a split second you consider it, because telling Somi that her friend already used you for this exact challenge would probably create enough chaos to shut this whole thing down. Asa mentioned that every girl had to pick a different guy. If Somi finds out she's not the first, that Asa already had you, she'd lose her mind.
Better to keep that card in your back pocket.
"It's personal," you say.
Somi stares at you for two full seconds, then turns to Chaeyoung. "See? Obvious lie. He panicked and couldn't even make up a name." She points at a chair near the center of the room. "Now sit over there."
You grab your backpack, drop it in the corner by the door, and sit in the chair she indicated. It's one of those standard classroom chairs with the little desk arm attached, but you push the arm out of the way and settle in. Somi is already moving around the room, scouting angles. She finds a spot on a shelf near the whiteboard, props her phone against a stack of old textbooks, and adjusts the lean until she's satisfied with the frame.
"The phone stays here,â she explains, tapping the screen. âIt'll get both of us in the shot."
"Professional setup,â you say.
"I don't do amateur." She walks back toward you, Chaeyoung falling into step beside her. "Here's how this works. It's simple. The goal is for us to get facefucked until our makeup is ruined. That's the whole point of the trend. Cute face goes in, wrecked face comes out. So you need to not cum in thirty seconds like some premature disaster. Hold it together until our makeup is properly smudged. Can you manage that?"
"I think I can handle it," you say.
Somi raises an eyebrow. "You think?"
"... I'll handle it," you correct.
She nods once and starts heading toward the phone to hit record, but you lift a hand.
"Wait. One thing."
She stops and turns. "What now?"
"Can you show me your tits? Just... help me out a little. Get things moving."
The look she gives you is lethal. You're genuinely not sure if she's about to slap you or walk out. "You're such a pervert."
"You're about to do all this for Twitter likes. I don't think I'm the only pervert in this room.â
Chaeyoung lets out a laugh, immediately stifled behind her hand. Somi shoots her a look and Chaeyoung straightens her face, pressing her lips together.
"Fine," Somi mutters, then reaches back and taps the record button on her phone. She walks back over to you, stops right in front of your chair, and shrugs off her jacket with way more force than necessary, tossing it onto the floor. Then, without hesitation, she grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head in one smooth motion. She'd been going braless this whole time.
And her breasts are genuinely, absurdly large. Full and round on her narrow frame, heavy enough to bounce slightly from the motion of pulling her top off. Her skin is smooth, even toned, her nipples a soft pink against the pale expanse.
She stands there with her hands on her hips, topless and defiant. "Happy now, pervert?"
Chaeyoung is pulling at the collar of her cream sweater, fanning herself. "God, it really is hot in here. No ventilation at all." She tugs the sweater over her head and folds it neatly, setting it on a desk. Underneath she's wearing a simple white bra. Her chest is small, barely filling the cups, her collarbones delicate and pronounced above the band.
The contrast is staggering. Somi's huge, bare breasts next to Chaeyoung's petite frame in her little white bra. The tall, aggressive blonde towering over the soft, nervous brunette. Both of them in front of you, half undressed, in a locked classroom on the third floor of a building nobody visits.
Your cock is hard. Fully, uncomfortably hard, straining against the front of your jeans. There's no hiding it and you don't try. "Okay," Somi says, her eyes dropping to your lap for a fraction of a second. "Let's begin."
She kneels in front of the chair. Chaeyoung follows, settling on her knees to Somi's right. Somi's hands go to your belt, her long fingers working the buckle with efficiency. She yanks your jeans down your thighs with both hands, and your boxers come with them. She doesn't bother with the slow reveal. She pulls everything to your ankles in one sharp tug and your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach, thick and fully hard.
Somi stops. Her hands are still on the bunched fabric at your knees. Her eyes are locked on your cock. Her lips part, just slightly, and you watch her throat move as she swallows. "What the fuck," she mutters.
Chaeyoung, kneeling beside her, has gone completely still. Her mouth is open. Her eyes are wide. She's staring at your cock the way people stare at car accidents. Unable to look away, unable to process what she's seeing.
"Okay, that's..." She cuts herself off and stares for another second. "No. Hold on⊠That is actually the biggest dick I've ever seen in my entire life." She looks back up at you. "I'm being serious.â
Somi recovers. She flips her hair over one shoulder and wraps her fingers around the base. They don't close. Her fingertips fall about a centimeter short of her thumb.
"Well," she says, tone forcibly casual. "At least you won't embarrass us in the video."
"That's all you have to say?" Chaeyoung is still gaping. "Somi, look at this thing."
"I'm looking at it. I'm literally holding it. Stop acting like you've never seen a cock."
"Not one like this."
Somi starts stroking. Slow, tight pulls from base to tip, her grip adjusting to accommodate the girth. Her palm is slick with nothing but her own sweat and it's not enough, so she leans forward and spits. A thick, glossy string that lands on the shaft and she spreads it with her fist, twisting on the upstroke. Chaeyoung reaches out tentatively and wraps her smaller hand around the shaft just below Somi's. Her fingers look even more inadequate against the thickness. She strokes in tandem, following Somi's rhythm, and you can see the fascination on her face. She's studying your cock like it's a specimen, tilting her head, watching the way the veins pulse under her fingers.
"I literally do not know how I'm going to fit this in my mouth," Chaeyoung says quietly.
"The harder it is to take, the hotter it'll look on camera," Somi says, pumping steadily. "Trust me. You're gonna look amazing struggling with it. Just try not to throw up on his cock. I'm not doing another take because your gag reflex decided to betray us."
Chaeyoung immediately scrunches up her face. "Ew. Why would you even say that?"
"Because I'm thinking ahead.â
You lean back in the chair, watching both of their hands work your shaft. "Somi, quick suggestion: instead of talking about vomit, maybe switch gears and give me a titjob. Feels a lot more productive.â
Somi's head snaps up. "Who do you think you are? Asking me for a titjob? This isn't about your pleasure, this is about our content. You have no rights here. You're a prop."
Chaeyoung glances between you and Somi. "Actually, that would look really good on camera,â you explain.
"Excuse me?"
"Think about it," you say, keeping your tone light, reasonable. "Your tits wrapped around my cock, all wet and shiny with spit. Glistening in the light. That's premium content. The timeline would lose their minds."
"God, fine!â Somi snaps. "But only because it'll look good. Not because you asked." She shifts forward on her knees, positioning herself between your legs. She grabs your cock and angles it straight up, then presses her breasts together around the shaft.
The visual is pornographic: your thick cock disappearing into the soft, warm valley of her massive tits, the head poking out from the top of her cleavage on every upstroke. "Chae, spit on it," she orders.
Chaeyoung leans in and spits on the head of your cock, a neat string that drips down the shaft and into Somi's cleavage. Somi starts moving, sliding her breasts up and down, using her hands to press them tight around you. The friction is insane. Warm and slick and pillowy, her soft skin squeezing your girth from both sides.
She finds her rhythm, bouncing her tits on your cock with smooth rolls of her torso. More spit from Chaeyoung. More from Somi herself, leaning down to drool on your shaft before pressing it back between her breasts. The saliva mixes with the thin sheen of sweat building on her skin, and soon her entire chest is glistening, your cock sliding effortlessly through the slick channel.
"There," Somi says, watching the head of your cock emerge from her cleavage on each upstroke. "Happy now?"
"Extremely."
"Enjoy it. This is the only titjob you'll ever get from these." She works you for another minute, her breasts bouncing and jiggling with each motion, wet and gleaming in the dusty light filtering through the blinds. Your cock throbs between them, flushed and leaking, leaving trails of precum that mix with the saliva coating her skin. Eventually Somi pulls back, her breasts separating from your shaft with a slick sound.
"Okay. Enough warmup. Time for the real thing." She grabs your cock and angles it toward her face. "Don't go easy on me. I can handle whatever you've got."
You put your hand on the back of her head. Blonde hair, silky and thick between your fingers. You pull her forward and your cock slides past her glossy lips, stretching them wide. Somi takes half of you on the first push, her jaw straining around the girth, and you feel her throat clench as you hit the back of her mouth. You pull back, then push again, deeper. Her eyes water but she doesn't flinch. She grabs your thighs and braces herself, and you start fucking her face with real momentum.
Somi is aggressive even when she's the one being used. She pushes back against your thrusts, trying to take more, making these low grunting sounds in her throat every time you bottom out. Spit builds fast, coating your shaft in thick, frothy ropes that drip from her chin onto her bare chest. Her lipgloss is the first casualty, smearing in wide, shiny streaks across her cheeks and along your cock.
You pull out and she gasps, spit hanging from her lower lip in long strings. "Harder," she demands. "Come on, nerd. That's all you've got?"
You grab a fistful of her hair and shove her back down. Harder this time. Faster. The slapping of her lips meeting your pelvis fills the classroom, wet and rhythmic and obscene. Her mascara starts to run. Dark streaks bleeding from the corners of her eyes, tracking down her cheekbones. Her contour, her foundation, all of it softening and smudging under the assault of spit and tears.
You pull out of Somi's mouth and angle your cock toward Chaeyoung. She's been kneeling beside Somi this whole time, watching with flushed cheeks and parted lips, her hands resting on her thighs. "Your turn," you say.
Chaeyoung takes a breath and opens her mouth. You guide yourself in gently, slower than you did with Somi. Her lips stretch around the head and she whimpers, high and soft, her brow creasing as the girth fills her mouth. You push in a few inches and feel her gag, her throat tightening, her hands flying to your hips.
You stop. Let her adjust. She breathes through her nose, her eyes squeezed shut, and then nods slightly. You push again, easing into a shallow rhythm, just the first half of your shaft sliding between her stretched lips. She's struggling. Her jaw isn't built for this. But she's trying, god is she trying, her tongue working the underside of your cock, her lips sealed tight despite the strain.
"Relax your throat," Somi coaches from beside her. "Stop fighting it. Let him in." Chaeyoung adjusts her angle, tilting her chin up, and on the next stroke you slide an inch deeper. She gags again but pushes through it, her fingers gripping your thighs, her eyes watering. The peachy blush on her cheeks is bleeding, her subtle eye makeup starting to track.
You alternate. A minute in Somi's mouth, rough and fast, her mascara running in black rivers while she glares up at you with those defiant eyes. Then a minute in Chaeyoung's, slower, gentler, watching her struggle and adapt and gradually take more of you. Between rounds, they lick your cock together. Somi on one side, Chaeyoung on the other, their tongues meeting at the tip in a messy, overlapping tangle. Chaeyoung giggles when their lips brush. Somi pretends she doesn't notice.
Somi grabs the back of Chaeyoung's head suddenly, fingers tangling in her dark hair, and pushes her down on your cock.
"Deeper," Somi orders. "Don't be a pussy about it. Take it." Chaeyoung's eyes go wide and she gags hard as your cock hits the back of her throat, but Somi holds her there, keeps her down. You feel Chaeyoung's throat spasm around the head of your cock and her fingers dig into your thighs. Somi eases up after a few seconds and Chaeyoung pulls off gasping, a thick web of spit connecting her lips to your shaft.
"See?" Somi says. "You can take it. You just needed a push."
"You're crazy," Chaeyoung breathes. But she's smiling.
She leans back in, licking along the shaft, and takes you into her mouth again on her own terms. Deeper. More confident. Her eyes find yours and stay there, glassy and adoring. Then Somi pushes Chaeyoung aside and swallows your cock to the base. All of it. Her nose pressing into your pelvis, her throat bulging, her eyes rolling back for just a second before she catches herself. She holds you there, breathing through her nose in sharp bursts, then pulls off and jacks you with both hands.
"Fuck," Somi mutters, staring at your cock. "Why does your stupid dick feel so good in my throat." She says it like she's genuinely annoyed about it.
You fuck her face until her foundation is gone entirely, until the careful contour is just a memory and her cheeks are flushed and raw and wet with tears and spit. You fuck Chaeyoung's face until her peachy blush is smeared sideways and her mascara has bled into dark smudges beneath her lashes. They take turns. They share. They kiss each other around the head of your cock, their ruined lips meeting in sloppy, wet passes, tasting each other and tasting you.
The pressure in your stomach is winding tight. The balls deep thrusts into Somi's willing throat, the sweet suction of Chaeyoung's eager mouth, the visual of two beautiful, wrecked girls on their knees fighting over your cock. You won't last.
"I'm close," you tell them.
Somi pulls off immediately, gripping the base of your cock with one hand. "On our faces. Stand up."
You stand. Your legs are shaky but you manage. Somi and Chaeyoung press their cheeks together, kneeling side by side in front of you, looking up. You stroke your cock over their faces. Fast, tight pulls, your fist slick with the accumulated spit of both their mouths. Somi's hand comes up and wraps around yours, helping you pump, her eyes locked on the head of your cock inches from her face.
And then you cum. The first shot catches Somi across the bridge of her nose and her right cheek, a thick white rope that clings to her skin and starts to drip. She flinches and then holds still, jaw clenched, taking it. The second hits her forehead and tracks into her hairline. The third you aim at Chaeyoung, a long, heavy streak from her eyebrow down across her cheek to the corner of her open mouth. She gasps, her tongue darting out to catch what landed on her lips, and she moans.
More. A fourth shot across Chaeyoung's nose, landing on Somi's cheek where their faces are pressed together. A fifth that paints Chaeyoung's chin in a thick, dripping coat. A sixth, weaker, that drips from the tip of your cock onto Somi's chest, landing between her glistening breasts.
Chaeyoung is glowing, cum splattered across her flushed face and dripping down to her collarbone. She's smiling like she means it. Genuine and gorgeous. She licks the mess off her lips and laughs, breathless and bubbly, like getting painted with your load is the highlight of her day.
Somi wipes cum out of her right eye and stares at the evidence stringing between her fingers. "Okay," she admits, chest still heaving. "That was pretty fucking hot.â
She stands, crosses to the shelf where her phone is propped, and brings it close to their faces. She angles the screen so the camera captures both of them in tight frame. Glazed, ruined, beautiful. "Say goodbye," Somi tells Chaeyoung.
Chaeyoung waves at the lens with her fingers, cum still webbed between them. Then Somi turns Chaeyoung's face toward hers and kisses her. Soft, brief, their cum smeared lips pressing together and pulling apart with a slick sound. Both of them grinning when it's done.
"That turned out great," she announces, scrubbing through the footage. "The angle caught everything. The titjob, both of us choking, the facial, the kiss. This is premium content."
Chaeyoung wipes her cheek with the back of her hand and looks at you. "Thank you. Seriously. That was actually really fun."
"Anytime," you say, pulling your boxers and jeans back up.
Somi goes to her bag, pulling out wet wipes and a compact mirror. She starts cleaning her face with brisk, efficient motions, checking her reflection between each pass. Chaeyoung walks up to you while Somi is distracted. She's still got traces of cum on her jaw and she doesn't seem to care. She pulls out her phone.
"Can you follow me on Insta? I'd love to chat sometime. Outside of, you know, this whole situation."
You take out your phone. She tells you her handle and you type it in. Her page loads. Aesthetic photos, cute selfies, pictures of coffee and cats. You hit follow.
"I'll text you tonight," she promises. "For real. Not just saying that."
"I believe you."
Somi's reflection catches Chaeyoung in the mirror. "Chae, you know you're way too pretty for him, right? You could do so much better."
Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. "Don't listen to her. She's like that with literally every person on the planet."
"I'm used to the type," you say.
Somi snaps her compact shut. "Okay, we're done here. You can leave now. We don't need you anymore. Go study or whatever it is you do."
You grab your backpack from the corner, sling it over your shoulder. Chaeyoung gives you a little wave, her fingers wiggling, that warm smile still on her face. You wave back.
"Bye, nerd," Somi calls without looking up from her phone.
You push through the heavy door and step into the empty hallway, adjusting your glasses and shifting your backpack as you start toward the stairs. Behind you, through the closed door, you can still hear Chaeyoung complaining about the dust.
Two days. Two separate encounters. Two groups of gorgeous girls actively searching for you because of the same completely insane Twitter challenge. At this point, you're not even questioning it anymore.
This is very quickly becoming the best week of your life. And, to be honest, youâre more than ready to see how much weirder it gets.
â
The lecture hall slowly empties around you while you're still shoving your laptop into your bag. Your phone vibrates against the desk. Instagram DM. Chaeyoung. Her name appears with the little sparkle emoji from her profile, and you catch yourself smiling.
hey! how was class? hope ur not dying of boredom đ„Č
You type back as you walk into the corridor. The conversation flows easier than you expected. She tells you about her morning, complains about her statistics professor, asks what you're studying. You mention you've been into a sci fi book lately and it turns out she's read it twice. She sends a screenshot of her bookshelf and half the titles are ones you own. The exchange feels weirdly normal. Like she's a person, not the girl who was on her knees beside Somi yesterday with cum dripping off her chin.
Then a notification slides down from the top of your screen.
Instagram DM. Huh_Yunjin.
You stop walking in the middle of the hallway.
hey đ€ you free rn?
You open the DM and instantly do what literally anyone would do. You tap her profile. Black and white profile pic. Dark lipstick. Looking unfairly good for no reason. Almost a million followers. Yeah. That tracks. You scroll a little. Pictures that somehow survive Instagram moderation by the smallest possible margin. Sheer tops. Suspicious camera angles. Captions written like ongoing jokes between her and her followers. A tiny link in her bio leads exactly where you'd expect.
You know what this is about. You'd have to be brain dead not to. You reply:
wyd?
wanna give you a little something. trust me, youâre not gonna regret it
where r u
the theater room. building C, the big one with the stage. place is empty rn. just me. come find me đ
how do i know this isn't some prank
Typing dots. Gone. She gives up on whatever she was typing. Then an Instagram notification slides onto your screen.
Photo âą View Once.
Yunjin is in front of a full length mirror backstage somewhere, phone angled to catch herself in profile. Her plaid skirt is bunched up around her hips. No panties. The curve of her ass is right there, the dip of her lower back, one hand lifting the fabric to show you everything. A cropped top that barely contains her. Heels. Her face turned slightly toward the camera with a smirk that says she does this kind of thing on Tuesdays for fun.
The photo disappears. A new message pops up almost immediately.
does that seriously look like a prank?
been watching you for a while
you're cute
i'm interested. but hurry up. i'm not sitting here waiting all day
omwđ
You shove your phone in your pocket and start walking faster.
Building C is across the quad. You take the path behind the library, the longer one, less foot traffic. Halfway there you stop and dig into the small zippered pocket of your backpack. A little plastic bag, sealed tight, three gummies left inside. Small, innocent looking, red and shaped like cartoon bears. You bought a whole bulk order after that stream went viral last year. The one with the two streamers who lost their minds on camera. You only tuned in because Hyeju was supposed to make a guest appearance, and you stayed because, well, the clips that came out of that night are still floating around the seedier corners of Twitter for a reason.
You pop one into your mouth and bite down. Sweet. Faint chemical aftertaste. You feel it start to dissolve under your tongue.
This thing is going to load your balls up like you've been edging for a week. The first time you tried one you came so much you genuinely thought something was wrong with you. Now you keep them around for special occasions, mostly solo sessions, but lately the universe has been throwing special occasions at you like it owes you back pay.
Four girls in three days. All from the same circle. This whole hot little clique of certified sluts is going through you like a relay race, and you're still undecided on whether that should hurt your pride or massively inflate your ego.
You push through the theater doors and lock them behind you with the inside latch. The auditorium is dark. Rows of empty seats descending toward the stage, which is lit warm and amber by the work lights overhead. You walk down the center aisle, your sneakers quiet on the carpet.
"Are you sure this is a safe place for this," you call out as you reach the stairs leading up to the stage.
A figure straightens up from behind one of the prop tables near the back of the stage. She steps into the warm pool of light, and yeah. Okay.
Yunjin in person is something else.
Tall. Legs that go forever, made even longer by the black heels strapped around her ankles. The plaid skirt from the photo, riding high on her thighs. A black crop top with thin straps, her stomach toned and bare, the slight curve of her chest visible underneath. Her hair is blonde. Freshly done, by the look of it, that bright platinum that catches every bit of stage light. Full pouty lips painted a glossy plum that's already smudged slightly at one corner. Sharp eyes. Mischief lives in them.
"My friend works here," she says, stopping a step away from you. "She runs lighting for the drama department. She told me the building is dead until evening rehearsal. We've got at least an hour, probably more." She looks you up and down, slow, taking inventory. "I'm glad you actually showed up."
"You called me."
"I did call you." She grins. "Not gonna do the whole introduction thing because everyone here knows who I am. Let's save the time. There's this Twitter challenge going around right now. Me and my girls all jumped on it. The premise is pretty simple. I need to get absolutely ruined on camera by a guy who looks exactly like you." Her hands come up and find the collar of your shirt, fingers playing with the fabric. "You're perfect for this," she tells you. "Glasses, the messy hair, the whole shy genius thing. I clocked you in the cafeteria last week. You were mumbling to yourself about some equation, and I thought, yeah. Him. Definitely him."
"I've heard about the challenge."
Her eyebrows lift. "Oh, really?"
"Word gets around." You hold her gaze. "I'm in."
"Smart boy." Her hand drops from your collar and slides down your chest, your stomach, and lands square on the front of your jeans. She squeezes lightly. "Oh, look at this. You're already hard. Is that for me?"
"That picture would make a dead man hard."
She laughs, head tipped back, her throat exposed. "Listen to you. I expected some stuttering little nerd, all sweaty palms and broken sentences. You're way more confident than I gave you credit for."
Your hands find her waist. She's warm under your palms, her skin smooth where your thumbs rest against her bare stomach. You let one hand slide down and around, palming the curve of her ass through the skirt. Squeezing. It's even better than the photo suggested. Thick and full and firm under your fingers.
"Mm." She presses into your hand. "Yeah, okay. You can definitely keep doing that." She squeezes your cock through your jeans again, harder this time, mapping out the shape of you. Her grin widens. "Wait. Hold on." She squeezes again. "What are you packing under here? This feels promising."
"You'll find out."
"I'm finding out right now, apparently." She leans her face close to yours, plum lips almost brushing your mouth. "This video is gonna be way better than I planned. I was expecting cute and mid. This is feeling more like cute and dangerous."
"I'll do my best."
"Yeah? Tell me what you're gonna do."
"I'm going to make you gag on it until you can't talk straight. I want to see you wrecked. Drooling on yourself. Huh Yunjin choking on my cock until your makeup is in your lap."
"Fuck yes. That's the energy." She closes the distance and kisses you.
She kisses like she's trying to eat you alive. Plum gloss smearing, tongue immediately in your mouth, both hands fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you against her. You back her up two steps until she hits the prop table behind her, and your hands are everywhere. Up her sides, palming the soft swell of her chest through that thin top, down to grab two handfuls of her ass and pull her tight against you. She rolls her hips into your bulge and groans into your mouth.
You make out for what feels like a while. Long enough that you're both breathing hard, her gloss completely gone from her lips and smudged across yours, her hair mussed where your fingers tangled in it. She pulls back, panting. "Okay. Okay, let's actually do this before I get carried away and just ride you in a folding chair." She steps out of your reach. "I'm gonna get undressed."
"All the way?"
"All the way." She's already reaching back to unzip the skirt. "If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. None of this half clothed business. I want my whole body in frame."
She undresses without an ounce of self consciousness. The skirt drops to the floor and she steps out of it. The crop top comes off over her head and her hair tumbles back down around her shoulders. Just heels left. She stands there in the warm stage light, completely bare, hands on her hips, watching you watch her.
She is staggering. Toned legs flowing up into thick thighs that gap at the top. Her ass round and full behind her. Her chest is small, soft, her nipples pierced with delicate silver bars catching the light. A subtle line of definition down her stomach. Her plum lips swollen from the kissing, her eye makeup still mostly intact, sharp and dark.
"Well," she says, doing a slow turn for you. "What's the verdict, professor?"
"You're perfect."
"Correct answer." She picks up her phone from the table, taps it into camera mode, and hands it to you. "Don't drop it. And try to keep me in frame, but don't worry about being artsy. The chaos is the point." She sinks down to her knees on the wooden stage floor, looking up at you. The amber lights catch her hair and turn it almost gold. She tilts her head, smirks, runs her tongue slowly along her lower lip. "Alright, babe. Let's see what we're working with."
Her hands settle on the front of your pants.
Yunjinâs fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants with an ease that makes it immediately clear this isnât new territory for her. And definitely not the weirdest place sheâs done it. She keeps looking up at you while she works the button open, her glossy lips curved in that teasing little smile, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she tugs the zipper down.
âYouâre trying so hard to look calm,â she says, amused, her knuckles brushing the hard outline of you through your underwear. âItâs cute. I can feel your dick jumping every time I touch you.â
âYouâre naked on your knees in front of me,â you answer. âIâd be more worried if I looked calm.â
She laughs under her breath and pulls your pants down with your underwear in one smooth motion. Your cock springs out hard, heavy, already leaking precum from the kissing and the gummy spreading heat through your veins. Yunjin actually goes silent. You watch the reaction hit in stages. First surprise. Eyes widening. Taking a second look. Then comes the grin. Slow, filthy, pure excitement.
âOh my god,â she says, sitting back on her heels. âNo fucking way.â
You glance down at her, trying not to grin too much. âStill think Iâm just cute and dorky?â
âShut up, Iâm processing.â She wraps one hand around the base, and her fingers donât close all the way. That makes her smile wider. âI knew it. I fucking knew it. Quiet guys are always hiding something evil in their pants. This might be the biggest dick Iâve ever had in my mouth, and Iâm not even saying that to boost your nerd ego.â
âThatâs a pretty strong review.â
âI have experience. My review matters.â She strokes once, slow, her thumb dragging along the underside. âJesus. Itâs not even just long. Itâs fat. Like, Iâm gonna feel personally disrespected by my own jaw in ten minutes.â
She leans in and spits directly onto the head, letting the saliva slide down before she spreads it with her palm. Her hand moves over you with immediate ease, slicking you up, twisting around the ridge, cupping the head, rubbing the wetness down the shaft until your cock gleams under the stage lights. She watches the shine build with open appreciation.
âPretty,â she murmurs, smiling to herself before lightly tapping your cock against her cheek. Once. Then again. Soft little smacks against skin. She tilts her head, looking way too pleased. âJesus. Look at this thing.â Her grin widens. âThis is absolutely gonna ruin me.â
She drags the underside over her lips, leaving a wet smear of saliva and precum across the plum gloss. Her mouth opens slightly, tongue slipping out to trace the swollen head. She gives you one slow lick, then kisses the tip like sheâs flirting with it, her eyes staying locked on yours the whole time.
âYou know whatâs dangerous?â she says, rubbing your cock along her lower lip. âI can already tell Iâm gonna be stupid about this. Iâm supposed to make a cute little challenge video and go home, but this dick looks like it could ruin my plans for the week.â
âYouâve barely started.â
âI know. Thatâs the problem.â She opens her mouth wider and lets the head rest on her tongue. âIâm excited.â Then she takes you in.
The first slide into her mouth is hot, wet, and far too smooth for something that should be difficult. Her lips stretch around the girth, glossy and plush, sealing tight as she sinks lower. You feel her tongue flatten beneath you, guiding the shaft in a practiced line, easing the thickness over the middle of her tongue and toward the back of her throat. She doesnât rush. She doesnât panic. She makes room.
You swear under your breath when she takes more than half of you on the first try. Yunjin hums around your cock, pleased with the reaction, and pulls up slowly until only the head remains between her lips. Her cheeks hollow, suction tightening in a way that nearly makes your knees buckle. She swirls her tongue around the ridge, collects the slickness gathering there, then sinks down again, deeper this time, both hands on your thighs for balance.
Yeah, okay. She absolutely knows what sheâs doing. Thereâs skill in the way she moves, not just enthusiasm. She angles her head to take the girth without scraping teeth. She uses her tongue constantly, dragging it along the underside, pressing into the sensitive strip beneath the head whenever she pulls back. Her lips never loosen. Every inch of you gets attention, and when she reaches the point where most girls would stop, she relaxes her jaw, breathes through her nose, and keeps going.
Your cock hits the back of her throat. She gags once, barely, more like her body acknowledging the size than refusing it. Her hands squeeze your thighs. Her eyes flutter, watery already, but she forces another inch down until her lips are close to the base. Then, with a slow, obscene determination, she swallows around you and noses against your pelvis.
âFuck,â you say, because there isnât anything smarter available in your brain.
She pulls off with a slick gasp, saliva stretching from her mouth to your cock before breaking across her chin. Her lips are swollen and wet, the plum gloss already smeared beyond repair. âSee?â she says, breathing hard but grinning. âMade for it.â
âYou werenât exaggerating.â
âI never exaggerate about head. Thatâs sacred.â She strokes you in one hand while the other drops to your balls, cupping them with a reverence that surprises you. Her eyes lower. âOh, these are heavy. What the hell are you feeding them?â
âWould you believe gummy bears?â
She looks up sharply, amused. âDonât joke with me while Iâm worshipping your balls.â
âIâm not joking.â
She studies your face for a second, then laughs. âYouâre weird. I like it.â Her fingers roll your balls gently, feeling the weight, her tongue slipping out to lick along the base of your shaft. âThese are going to make an insane mess of me, arenât they?â
âThatâs the plan.â
âThat better be a promise.â She bends lower and takes one of your balls into her mouth, lips sealing around it, tongue moving with slow, wet attention. Her hand keeps stroking your cock while she sucks gently, then switches to the other, giving it the same treatment. The stage lights catch every trail of saliva on her chin, every smudge of makeup beginning to soften around her mouth. She looks completely at home like this, naked, kneeling, eyes bright with hunger.
âYou have no idea how hot this is,â she says between kisses along your shaft. âYour cock is stupid big, your balls are full, and you look like you still think this is a weird dream youâre gonna wake up from.â
"Itâs crossed my mind, yeah.â
âDonât wake up. Iâm not done being a slut for you.â She goes back down on you, more aggressive now. Her hand grips the base while her mouth works the upper half, fast and wet, tongue flicking, lips dragging, throat opening whenever she decides to take you deep. She alternates between worship and hunger, kissing your shaft, licking the veins, spitting on it again when she wants more slickness, rubbing the mess over you with her palm before swallowing you down.
Your phone stays in your hand, recording, the frame centered on her face. It catches everything. The way her lips stretch around you. The way her eyes lift to the lens whenever she takes you deep. The slow collapse of her makeup. Plum lipstick smeared across her chin, mascara damp at the corners, saliva slipping down her neck and onto the small rise of her chest.
She pulls off, panting, and slaps the head of your cock against her tongue twice before rubbing it over her lips. âIâm getting attached,â she says, almost accusatory. âThatâs so unfair. You show up with this fat thing and expect me to act normal after?â
"You invited me."
"Yeah, and now this cock is mine. I'm calling dibs." She plants another wet kiss on the tip, then smiles up at you from below with spit running down her chin and eyes half-lidded from sheer arousal.
Yunjin leans in and swallows you deep again, this time she doesn't pull back when her throat tightens, the discomfort is part of the pleasure, swallowing repeatedly, forcing herself to adjust, her eyes watering harder, completely red now. You feel the muscles contracting around your cock, feel her body working to accept every inch. You watch as her thighs press together beneath her, the shine between them highlighted by the overhead stage lights when she shifts.
"Fuck, you're soaked," you groan.
She pulls off just enough to speak, lips still brushing the head. "Obviously I am. Do you have any idea what it's like having this monster prying my mouth open? My pussy's been dripping since I saw it." Her hand slides between her legs for one quick touch, collecting the proof of just how much of a slut she is, then she shows the wet shine on her fingers to the camera with a shameless smile.
"See? Your fault." She licks her own fingers making an obscene sound that makes your cock throb, then looks up at you. "Okay. I want it now."
"Want what?"
Her smile turns wicked. "Don't play dumb. Grab my hair and use my throat. I've been nice to your dick. Now ruin me for the video. Fuck my face, I know you're dying to do it."
"Alright, since you insist." Your free hand slides into her blonde hair, gripping close to the scalp. Yunjin opens her mouth immediately, tongue out, waiting, that look of a bitch in heat as deliberate as it is involuntary. You guide her forward and push your cock between her lips. Yunjin accepts the first thrust with a deep inhale through her nose, then braces her hands against your thighs.
You start hard right away. There's no need to build a rhythm when you already know what Huh Yunjin is capable of. Your thrusts are deep, each one pressing into her throat, nothing brutal yet but firm enough that her body has to be actively working to keep from gagging badly on your cock. Her eyes start watering again. Her lips stretch around you, swollen and slick. Saliva spills from the corners of her mouth almost immediately, pooling under her chin before dripping onto her chest.
Yunjin takes it beautifully.
The more you give her, the more alive she looks. She doesn't retreat from the roughness. She leans forward, seeking more force, gripping your thighs and letting you control the angle while she focuses on relaxing her throat around every thrust. A professional cocksucker, indeed. Your cock slides in and out of her mouth with wet sounds that echo louder and louder across the vastness of the theater, the camera catching her face coming undone in real time like a painting in the rain.
The lipstick is no longer neat, smeared across her cheeks and your shaft, purple and red streaks mixing with spit. Her mascara begins to run in thin lines, and when Yunjin looks up at you through wet lashes, you see genuine happiness stamped across her ruined face; it's beautiful to witness such raw passion in simply being the biggest slut on campus.
"Fuck, Yunjin," you say, driving deeper. "You really can take it."
She tries to answer around your cock and only manages a garbled, eager sound. Her hands go to your hips, pulling you forward â a clear signal for you to pick up the pace. So you fuck her mouth harder. Your hips slam into her face, your hand holding her in place, and every deep thrust makes her throat bulge and clench. She gags, recovers, takes it again. Tears spill freely now, cutting through the makeup on her cheeks. Drool runs down her neck in thick streams, sliding over her collarbone, dripping onto her small breasts and leaving glossy trails across her nipples.
You pull out to let her breathe. She inhales sharply, laughs, and spits a filthy string of saliva onto your cock.
"That's it. That's the clip. Holy shit, keep going. We're making history. My pussy is literally dripping onto the stage right now. How do I look?"
"You already look completely ruined," you tell her. "In other words: pretty fucking hot."
"Good. Make it worse then." Yunjin rubs her cheek against your shaft, nuzzling affectionately like she has genuine fondness for the thing destroying her face. "This cock is too fucking good. I hate that I found you through a trend. I should've hunted you down weeks ago. My bad."
You push back into her mouth, and she takes you with that same hunger. Now the rhythm is getting rougher and less careful, driven by the gummy bear's effect creeping through your bloodstream. Your balls feel heavy, too full, aching with all the pressure, and Yunjin notices. Her hand reaches down to cup them while you fuck her throat, squeezing gently, rolling them between her fingers.
The rhythm is partially interrupted when you see her thighs starting to tremble. You notice a full-body tremor rolling through her before she finally locks up completely. Both hands clench around you, fingers digging in, her throat contracts hard around your cock in thick, rhythmic pulses. She's cumming. Unironically, she's cumming right there on her knees with your cock buried in her throat, cumming just from having a cock in her mouth. Her eyes blow wide, then roll back until only the whites are visible, lashes fluttering as tears cut down her ruined face. Her whole body shudders and her hips jerks against nothing. You've never seen anything this hot in your life.
When you pull back to let Yunjin breathe again, you ask: "Holy fuck, d-did you just cum?"
She slumps forward with forehead pressing against your thigh, laughing in these ragged, wrecked little gasps. "I told you I was a slut." She tilts her face up and there's mascara smeared everywhere, along with spit, tears, and pure satisfaction. "Don't act so surprised." She drags the back of her hand across her chin and only smears it worse. "A cock like that shoved down my throat? Yeah. That's what happens."
"That's, like, really insane."
"That's talent, babe. Now put it back." You do, of course, and she gives herself over with even less restraint. The next stretch is messy beyond any salvation. She alternates between taking full-on facefucking and pulling you out to worship the head, tongue circling, lips sucking hard, hands pumping the base. The dirty talk pours out nonstop whenever her mouth is free because she simply can't contain herself, and you love that about her.
"This is mine now," she says, pumping you with both hands. "I'm serious. You don't get to walk around campus with this fat cock pretending it's public property. I found it, I choked on it, I came from it, so I have rights."
"Okay so you're making legal claims now?"
"Sexual claims. Way more serious." She kisses your tip, leaving a ruined smear of lipstick and spit. "You know, I'm going to think about this in class from now on. I'm going to be sitting there pretending to take notes while remembering how your cock stretched my throat open.â
Your orgasm starts building for real, low and heavy, dragged out by the gummy until it feels almost too intense. Yunjin senses the shift and pulls off, wrapping both hands around your cock. Her grip is slick, fast, frantic, using all the spit coating you. âYou close?â
âYeah.â
âOn my face,â she says instantly. âAll over it. Donât waste a drop anywhere boring. I want to look disgusting.â
She jerks you harder, her hands sliding from base to tip in quick, wet strokes. Her ruined face is right below the head of your cock, eyes locked on you, mouth open, tongue visible between glossy lips. âCome on,â she urges. âMake me pretty. Paint this slutty face. I want it in my hair, on my lips, down my neck. Give me that huge nerd load. I know youâve got it.â
The pressure snaps. The first jet hits her cheekbone hard, thick and white, streaking toward her ear. Yunjin gasps, delighted, and doesnât stop stroking you. The second shoots across her forehead and into the roots of her blonde hair. The third lands over her nose and upper lip, splattering hot across the smeared makeup. She laughs, breathless and amazed, pumping you faster. âHoly fuck,â she says. âThereâs so much.â
More comes. Another heavy rope spills over her open mouth, coating her tongue before sliding down her chin. She tilts your cock with one hand, aiming the next burst at her neck, and it paints a thick line down her throat. She drags the head lower, still milking you, and more cum spurts across her collarbone and small breasts, catching on her nipples and dripping toward her stomach.
It keeps going. The gummy turns the orgasm into something ridiculous, relentless, your cock pulsing over and over while Yunjin works every contraction out of you. She aims you back at her face for the final spurts, letting them splatter across her lips and jaw, adding more white to the ruined plum and black makeup already smeared everywhere.
By the time the last weak pulse drips from the tip, she is covered. Face, neck, chest, the top of her stomach. Cum clings to her lashes, streaks through her hair, sits thick on her lips. She stares down at herself, stunned for half a second, then bursts into laughter.
âOh my god,â she says, genuinely amazed. âWhat are you, a fucking fire hose?â
Youâre still catching your breath, phone aimed directly at her. The frame catches her kneeling there in the stage lights, naked and trembling, grinning through a mask of cum and destroyed makeup.
Yunjin lifts her chin toward the camera and smiles like she knows exactly how filthy she looks. She drags one finger through the cum on her cheek, brings it to her mouth, and tastes it slowly.
âYummy,â she says, making sure the camera catches the way her tongue cleans her fingertip.
Then she pouts at the lens, exaggerated and sexy, lips glossy with your cum, eyes half lidded and sparkling with trouble. She holds the pose long enough to make the ending perfect.
You stop recording. For a moment, both of you just stand there in the afterglow of it, the empty theater silent around you except for Yunjinâs uneven breathing. She rises carefully, one hand finding the edge of the prop table to steady herself. Her knees shake a little, and she laughs again when she notices.
âThat,â she says, pointing at you with a cum covered finger, âwas the best blowjob, deep throat, facefucking situation I have ever been part of. And Iâve got an extensive resume.â
You pull your underwear and pants back up, still sensitive enough that even the fabric brushing you makes you wince. âGlad I ranked highly.â
âHighly? Babe, you broke the scale.â She looks down at the mess on her chest, then back at your jeans like she can still see through them. âIâm obsessed. Thatâs so annoying. I was supposed to film a hot clip, post it, brag in the group chat, and move on with my life. Now Iâm standing here covered in your cum wondering if I can fit you into my schedule as a recurring problem.â
âThat sounds flattering.â
âItâs extremely flattering. Donât let it make you arrogant.â She bends down carefully, picking her clothes off the floor one by one. She doesnât put anything on yet, probably because there is no clean way to do it while coated like this. âAre you free tonight?â
You pause with your belt half fastened. âTonight?â
âYeah. My place.â
âI thought you got what you needed.â
âWith you?â She gives you a look that makes it very clear how stupid she thinks that sentence was. âNo, babe. I have so many things I need to do with your dick that I should not start listing them, because if I do, Iâll get wet again and try to fuck you right here on this stage before the drama kids show up.â
You glance toward the backstage hallway. âHow are you getting rid of all of that?â
âThere are showers behind the dressing rooms.â She waves it off, completely unconcerned. âIâve made bigger messes here during tech week. Donât worry about me.â
âYouâre really inviting me over after this?â
âIâm not inviting. Iâm claiming.â She steps closer, still naked, still streaked with cum, and taps a finger against your chest. âIâll send you my address on IG. Come tonight. Bring that cock, bring the weird gummy thing if thatâs part of your magic, and donât make plans for tomorrow morning.â
âIâll be there,â you say.
âGood. And hey. Seriously. That was insane.â
âYou were insane.â
âI know. Thatâs why people like me.â You hand her phone back. She checks the video quickly, scrubbing through the timeline with professional focus despite the fact that cum is still dripping from her chin onto her chest.
âOh, this is disgusting,â she says happily. âPerfect. The lighting is hot, my face looks wrecked, your dick looks criminal. I might not even have to edit much. Maybe just cut the parts where I was yapping my ass off about being in love with your cock.â
âGlad the production value survived.â
âBarely. My dignity did not, but that wasnât invited.â She heads toward the backstage showers with her clothes bundled in one arm, hips swaying, heels clicking lightly on the stage floor. Before disappearing behind the curtain, she turns back, still grinning. âTonight,â she says. âDonât make me chase you.â
You leave the stage feeling absurdly good about yourself. The theater doors shut behind you, and the hallway outside is empty, too normal for what just happened. Your legs are steady enough now, your breathing mostly back.
Four girls so far. Not that you're counting. Okay, maybe a little. Asa. Somi and Chaeyoung. Now Yunjin. Two more should still be out there somewhere. You head back toward the main campus mentally preparing for the next completely normal and not concerning interaction of the week.
â
The park looks stupidly nice today. One of those afternoons where the lighting is so good everything suddenly feels edited. Trees glowing, grass looking greener than usual, the whole thing straight out of a stock photo. Families on blankets. Dogs losing their minds over frisbees. People jogging. Just regular people doing regular Thursday stuff.
Shuhua walks beside Ning with a cherry popsicle in hand, somehow managing to eat it with impossible levels of grace. No sticky fingers. No drips. Every little movement neat and automatic, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth between bites. Her pale blue dress shifts softly around her ankles in the breeze, dark hair pinned back with a single clip. Between the sunlight and the whole effortless look she's got going on, she barely feels real.
Next to Shuhua, Ning looks like the opposite side of the same coin. Tiny shorts, cropped tank, dark hair down around her shoulders. The center part frames her face in a way that somehow makes her eyes stand out even more. People call her features feline all the time. Mostly because of her eyes. Sharp. Alert. Always tracking everything around her.
"Have you seen Yunjin's numbers?" Ning asks, scrolling her phone while walking, a skill she's perfected over years of content creation. "Forty thousand views in twelve hours. Forty thousand. And she barely edited. The color grading is flat and the audio peaks twice. Imagine if she'd actually put effort into post."
Shuhua takes another careful bite of her popsicle. "I thought her video was quite good, actually."
"It was fine. Asa's was better. The library setting, the composition, the slow buildup. That's how you do it." Ning locks her phone and slides it into her back pocket. "The point is, we're the only ones who haven't filmed yet. Somi and Chaeyoung posted theirs this morning. Asa posted yesterday. Yunjin went up last night. We're falling behind."
"It's not a race, Ning."
"Everything is a race when likes are involved." She glances sideways at Shuhua. "I can't afford to lose momentum. My account gained six hundred followers just from reposting Asa's clip with commentary. If I post my own content from the trend while it's still peaking, the engagement will be insane. But we need to find someone today."
Shuhua finishes the last bite of her popsicle and holds the bare stick between two fingers, looking around for a trash can. "I agree we should film soon. I've been thinking about it more than I expected, honestly. The idea is growing on me."
"Growing on you how?"
A faint blush spreads across Shuhua's cheeks, barely noticeable against her pale skin. She looks away for a second. "I'd rather not get into that in the middle of a public park.â
Ning grins. "That's all the elaboration I needed."
They round a bend in the path and that's when Shuhua spots you. Sitting on the grass under an oak tree, legs crossed, a paperback open in your lap. Earbuds in. Glasses catching the afternoon light. Completely oblivious to the world around you, which is your default state and, apparently, your most attractive quality. "I know him," Shuhua says, slowing her pace. "He's in my Wednesday seminar. Quiet. Sits in the back row. He's quite smart, from what I can tell."
Ning studies you with the detached precision of a photographer framing a shot. "I've seen him around too. Library, mostly. Always alone, always reading." She tilts her head. "He's got the look. The glasses, the messy hair, the whole unaware thing. The contrast would photograph beautifully."
They exchange a glance. Shuhua raises one eyebrow. Ning nods once.
"Together?" Shuhua asks.
"Together." Shuhua deposits her popsicle stick in a trash can along the path and the two of them walk across the grass toward you. Their shadows fall over your book before you register their presence. You pull one earbud out and look up.
Oh. Sure. The last two.
Ning shifts her weight onto one hip and studies you quietly. Not openly suspicious, not exactly friendly either. Up close, she's honestly more striking than her photos ever made her seem. You've seen her Instagram enough times to know that. There's something magnetic about her in person. The sharpness of her features. The unwavering eye contact. Like once she looks at you, looking away becomes your responsibility.
And then there's Shuhua. You keep trying to come up with a better word for it, but ethereal is annoyingly accurate. Pale skin glowing under the sunlight, big dark eyes, delicate features that somehow look even softer up close. She has her hands folded in front of her dress so neatly that she looks like she belongs at some afternoon tea party, not here near you.
It's incredible, genuinely, how you went from being invisible on this campus to being the gravitational center of the six hottest girls at the university. One week. Seven days of your previously unremarkable life, and suddenly you can't sit in a park without attracting beautiful women who want to use your cock for content.
"Have you heard of a Twitter trend called Ruin the Pretty Face?" Ning asks, skipping past any greeting.
"Yeah,â you say, closing your book. "It's gotten huge lately. Honestly kind of wild.â
"We want to record a video," Shuhua adds, her tone polite as ever, like she's asking you to proofread an essay. "With you. If you're willing."
You look around the park. Families. Dogs. Vendors selling popcorn and ice cream. A man flying a kite about thirty meters away. "Here? Right now?"
"Not here, obviously," Ning says. "I drove today. We can film in my car. Tinted windows, good camera, plenty of privacy."
"And both of you are recording this together."
"Yes," they say in unison.
You let that sink in for approximately half a second before your brain finishes its cost benefit analysis.
"Okay," you say, standing up and tucking the book under your arm. Shuhua falls into step beside you as the three of you start walking toward the parking area. Ning leads, phone already out, checking the light conditions, probably calculating optimal filming angles based on where her car is parked relative to the sun.
"Can I ask you something?" Shuhua asks gently. Her hands remain clasped as she walks, pale blue fabric shifting around her calves with every step.
"Go ahead."
"Has any girl ever approached you before asking for the same thing? For this challenge, I mean."
You don't hesitate. "No. You two are the first crazy ones to come up to me with something like this."
Shuhua nods, seemingly satisfied. "Good. I'd feel strange if we weren't the first. It would change the dynamic."
Ning glances back over her shoulder. "The dynamic's fine. Let's stay focused." The parking garage is only about a five minute walk from the park. Ning's SUV is parked on the second level, black with windows tinted dark enough to look at least a little suspicious. She unlocks it with her key fob and jerks her head toward the back door. "Get in the back.â
You climb in. The interior is clean, almost obsessively so. No fast food wrappers, no loose change, no clutter. Just a faint scent of clean air and leather. Shuhua slides in on your left, gathering her long dress around her legs with careful, ladylike precision. Ning gets in on your right, pulling the door shut with a solid thunk. The tinted windows turn the afternoon light dim and amber. You're sandwiched between them. Shuhua's thigh brushes yours through her linen dress. Ning's bare leg presses warm against your other side.
Ning reaches into a bag near the front seat and produces a compact makeup kit, the professional kind with multiple compartments and a lighted mirror. She flips it open and starts touching up her face, quick and efficient. Then she hands it to Shuhua, who applies a careful layer of lip tint and a fresh coat of mascara, checking her reflection from three different angles before she's satisfied.
"We'll record on my phone," Ning announces, then hands you the device. "Hold it. I want mobility in the shot. Don't shake it, keep us in frame, and don't film anything identifiable about the car."
"I can handle it." You barely stop yourself from smiling. She has no clue you've somehow ended up doing this three separate times in the same week. At this point you could probably run a masterclass on filming angles for horny Twitter content. "Trust me.â
"We'll see." Ning turns to face you more fully, one leg tucking beneath her on the seat. "And one more warning. You're cumming in my mouth. Tell us when you're about to blow, because Iâm not letting you make a mess in my car. Understood? Now get that cock hard."
Two hands find your lap simultaneously. Ning's on the right, confident and direct, her fingers pressing against the growing shape beneath your jeans. Shuhua's on the left, lighter, more tentative, her touch exploratory as it traces the outline of you through the fabric.
Ning leans in first, kissing you without much hesitation. Her lips are cool and smooth, carrying the faint taste of gloss. A quiet hum leaves her before she pulls away again. Then Shuhua takes her place.
The shift is instant. Shuhua kisses more softly, more carefully, barely parting her lips at first. But her hand around your cock tightens slightly, betraying nerves or excitement. She still tastes faintly like cherry from the popsicle. When your tongue brushes against hers, her breathing catches and a small surprised sound slips out before she can stop it.
Then suddenly it's all three of you at once. Kisses overlapping, mouths brushing against mouths, everything blurring together into something messy and warm. For a few seconds it gets hard to tell where one kiss ends and another begins. Shuhua's perfectly composed expression slips just a little, her eyes growing heavy. And Ning's whole cool princess act cracks for a split second when you catch her lower lip between your teeth and a real reaction slips out before she can stop it.
"You kiss well for a nerd," Ning murmurs against the corner of your mouth. They keep kissing you. Both of them. Taking turns, sharing, their hands still stroking you through your jeans, until Shuhua's brow furrows, her hand stops moving on your lap and her fingers press down, tracing the shape more carefully. Her eyes widen.
"Your cock is actually fucking huge," she murmurs.
Ning's hand joins Shuhua's, both of them feeling you through the denim now, mapping out the length and thickness with growing disbelief. "Hmm, it's probably just the pants," Ning says, though her expression suggests she doesn't believe that for a second. "Let's check if that's actually the case."
Ning yanks your belt open with zero hesitation. She tugs your pants down your thighs, and you lift your hips so she can pull them past your knees. Your boxers go with them. Your cock springs free, half hard and swelling heavier by the second in the warm, close air of the car.
Ning just stares for a second. Her lips part slightly, eyebrows lifting before she can stop them, and for one brief, completely unguarded moment she looks genuinely caught off guard. Her hand comes up slowly, wraps around the shaft, and her fingers don't even come close to meeting. "Okay," she breathes. "This is going to be way better than I imagined."
Shuhua leans across your lap to see, her pale face inches from your cock, and her dark eyes go impossibly round. "That is the biggest dick I have ever seen. In my entire life. Holy shit."
Your cock's still a little sore, honestly. Yunjin kept you at her place until almost two in the morning. At some point you completely lost track of how many times she made you cum, how many positions she somehow folded herself into, or how many times she looked you dead in the eyes and told you your cock belonged to her now.
The gummy lasted way longer than the package claimed it would, and by the time you finally collapsed onto her couch, you were pretty sure your body had reached its limit. For the first time since this whole insane week started, you actually felt drained.
But you can find some more stamina. For Shuhua and Ning, you can dig deep.
Ning strokes you once, twice, feeling the girth, watching the way your cock thickens further under her touch. She glances at Shuhua with a grin spreading across her face. You lift the phone, frame the shot tight on both of them, and hit the red button. The timer starts counting in the corner of the screen.
Ning leans down and drags her tongue in a long, flat stripe from the base to the tip. Shuhua follows immediately, her tongue tracing the opposite side, and the two of them meet at the head with their mouths brushing against each other. Ning takes you in first, wrapping her lips around the crown and sinking down, taking as much of your girth as her small mouth can manage on the first pass. Her cheeks hollow and she pulls up slow, letting the camera catch the slick shine coating your shaft. "Your turn," she murmurs, and guides your cock toward Shuhua's mouth.
Shuhua parts her lips and takes you in gently. Her eyes flutter closed and a soft, quiet sound escapes her throat. She bobs her head in shallow, careful motions, her hand gripping the base where her mouth can't reach. She's tentative at first. Testing. Adjusting to the stretch of her jaw around something this thick. But she doesn't pull away. If anything, she sinks deeper, taking another inch, then another, her throat working around you.
"Good?" Ning asks, watching Shuhua's face with curiosity.
Shuhua pulls off just enough to speak, her lips still brushing the head. "Very good." She kisses the tip softly, then takes you back into her mouth with more confidence.
They trade off. Ning goes deep, sloppy and showy, letting spit pool and drip down her chin because she knows exactly how it looks on camera. She moans around your shaft, loud and performative, her dark eyes finding the phone lens and holding the gaze. Her tongue works the underside with practiced skill, and when she pulls off, thick strings of saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock. Shuhua takes over with a steadier, quieter intensity. She sucks you with focus, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She discovers a rhythm that makes you twitch in her mouth and she stays there, repeating the motion, building on it. Her hand cups your balls, rolling them gently, and you hear her whimper against your shaft.
This looks like the kind of porn video you'd scroll past on your feed and immediately save. Two insanely beautiful women in the backseat of a car, heads in your lap, taking turns swallowing your cock while the afternoon light filters through tinted windows.
You decide it's time to step it up. Your free hand slides into Ning's dark hair and you push her head down. She takes it with a muffled sound of surprise that melts into a groan as your cock hits the back of her throat. You hold her there, feeling her throat constrict around you, then pull her back and push forward again. Fucking her face in slow, deep strokes. Her hands grip your thigh for balance and she opens her throat for you, letting you use her mouth however you want.
"Fuck yes," she gasps when you let her up for air. "Use me. Treat me like your slut." You push her back down and pick up the pace. Your hips roll up from the seat, driving your cock into her mouth while your hand controls the depth. Spit spills from the corners of her stretched lips, running down her chin, dripping onto her crop top. Her mascara starts to bleed at the corners of her eyes.
Then you switch. You pull Ning off and guide Shuhua down by the hair. She resists for half a second, startled by the rougher handling, then melts into it. You thrust into her mouth and she makes this sweet, overwhelmed sound, her eyes going wide and wet. You fuck her face slower than you did Ning's, giving her time to adjust, but you don't go easy. She doesn't want easy. You can tell from the way her hands keep drifting to her chest, squeezing her breasts lightly whenever she gets too worked up.
"Your dick feels so good in my mouth," Shuhua whispers when you give her a moment to breathe. Her usual elegance is slipping. Hair sticks to her lips, her cheeks are flushed, and every word sounds less put together than the last. "I didn't expect to enjoy it this much. It's so thick, it stretches my jaw so wide, and I just want to keep taking it."
"Then take it," you tell her, and she does. Shuhua sinks down on her own, swallowing as much of you as she can manage, and works her throat around you with a determination that borders on desperate.
You alternate between them. A dozen strokes into Ning's willing throat, then a dozen into Shuhua's eager mouth. Your hand switches between their heads, pulling, guiding, controlling the pace. Their makeup is slowly losing the fight. Ning's contour is smudged along her jawline now, and the gloss she'd put on earlier is long gone, leaving her lips puffy and messy. Shuhua's mascara has started to run beneath her eyes, creating dark crescents that weren't there before. Even her lip tint is smeared across her cheek now. The polished look both of them started with has completely fallen apart.
The pressure builds low and heavy in your stomach. Your balls tighten. The gummy's lingering effects make the orgasm feel enormous, swelling bigger than you can hold back. "I'm about to cum," you announce.
Ning pulls Shuhua off your cock and moves in front of you, kneeling on the floor of the backseat between your spread legs. She wraps her lips around the head and seals them tight, her hand pumping the shaft in fast, wet strokes. Her dark eyes look up at you, then at the camera, holding the gaze while she works you toward the edge.
You cum hard. The first pulse floods her mouth and she flinches, her cheeks bulging slightly before she swallows. More follows. Thick, heavy spurts that fill her faster than she can manage. Her throat works overtime but some of it escapes, leaking from the corners of her sealed lips and dripping down her chin. You keep cumming, pulse after pulse, the gummy ensuring that the load is obscene, far more than any normal session should produce. Her eyes water but she doesn't pull off. She takes everything you give her, her hand milking every last drop from your shaft.
When you finally stop throbbing, Ning pulls off slowly. She keeps her lips pressed tight together and turns to face the camera. She opens her mouth.
It's full. Completely full. Your cum pools on her tongue, thick and white, some of it already dripping from her lower lip. She tilts her head back slightly to show the camera, letting the load sit there, visible and obscene. Shuhua leans in close, her face next to Ning's. Ning cups Shuhua's chin and tilts her face up. Slowly she lets the cum dribble from her mouth into Shuhua's open lips. A thick strand stretches between them before breaking and landing on Shuhua's tongue.
Shuhua closes her mouth and swirls it, her expression somewhere between wonder and arousal. Then she leans toward Ning and passes it back, letting the cum slide from her lips into Ning's waiting mouth. They go back and forth, the load shrinking slightly with each transfer as they swallow bits of it, giggling between passes, their lips brushing together each time.
Finally, Ning swallows the last of it and pulls Shuhua in for a kiss. A real one. Deep and slow and wet, their tongues visible between their joined mouths, cum and saliva smearing across both their chins. They break apart and turn to face the camera with matching grins.
Ning winks at the lens. Shuhua blows a kiss.
Their faces are destroyed. Mascara tracking down their cheeks, lips swollen and smeared, chins dripping, hair tangled and damp. Ning's crop top is stained dark with spit. Shuhua's pale cheeks are flushed pink all the way to her ears. They look absolutely ruined and absolutely gorgeous.
Perfect content.
You stop recording. The car falls quiet except for their breathing and the distant sound of a car alarm somewhere in the structure. You hand the phone to Ning.
"Thanks," she says, already scrubbing through the footage. Her eyes move quickly, evaluating. "You did a great job filming. The angles are solid, you kept us in frame, the lighting caught everything. This is usable."
"I did the best I could."
"You succeeded." She watches a specific section again, the cumswapping part, and nods approvingly. "This is going to perform so well. The engagement on this will be insane."
You reach down and pull your pants back up, fastening your belt with slightly shaky fingers. "Well. I need to go now." You look between them. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. Genuinely."
Shuhua tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear and smiles at you, still flushed, still catching her breath. "Thank you for your help. I mean it. You were very kind about the whole thing."
"Anytime." You open the car door and the cool air of the parking structure hits your face. You step out, legs a bit unsteady, and turn back to close the door.
Ning is watching you with a slight frown. She glances at Shuhua, saying, "It was a little too easy."
"What do you mean?"
"He wasn't surprised by the request. He wasn't overly excited about having two girls sucking his dick in my car. He treated the whole thing like it was just another day." She tilts her head. "That's weird, right? Most guys would be losing their minds right now."
Shuhua considers this for a moment. "Yeah, he was actually quite calm. Unusually calm. But maybe it all happened too fast and he didn't have time to process everything properly."
"Maybe," Ning says, not fully convinced. She shrugs and looks back at her phone. "Whatever. We better clean up. I still need to edit and post this before the trend peaks."
Shuhua reaches for the makeup kit. "Don't forget to tag me in the video."
Shuhua rolls her eyes and smiles at the same time somehow. "Of course. Nothing says friendship like performance metrics.â
â
As usual for a weekend, Yunjin's living room is full. The girls have somehow claimed every inch of the giant L shaped couch, stretched out with their legs tangled together and their attention split between their phones and conversations happening in five directions at once. The TV's running in the background, ignored completely. Empty sushi containers crowd the coffee table beside abandoned wine glasses and Somi's energy drink.
Chaeyoung sits in Somi's lap with her back against Somi's chest, scrolling her phone while Somi braids a small section of her hair absentmindedly. Asa is cross legged on the floor cushion by the window, her laptop open, analytics dashboard visible. Ning occupies the armchair with her legs draped over one side, editing something on her phone. Shuhua sits upright at the end of the couch, both feet on the floor, posture perfect even at eleven at night.
Yunjin paces behind the couch in an oversized t shirt and shorts, wine glass in hand, narrating. "Final conclusion: Asa is winning," she announces, pointing at the screen Asa turns toward the group. "Obviously. She posted first, the algorithm favored her, the library setting was aesthetic, and her editing is annoyingly good. Twelve thousand likes and climbing. The comments are losing their minds."
"Thank you," Asa says simply.
"Second place is me." Yunjin grins with absolutely no humility. "As it should, honestly. I killed it and looked amazing doing it. Ning, put my video back on. Show them the ending.â
Ning taps the link and angles her phone so the group can see. The final thirty seconds of Yunjin's clip play on the small screen. The stage lighting, Yunjin's ruined face, and then the cumshot. The girls lean in and watch as rope after rope lands across Yunjin's cheeks, her forehead, her open mouth, her chin, her neck. It keeps going. And going. The volume of it is genuinely startling.
"What the actual fuck," Somi says, pausing mid braid.
"That's not real," Ning adds, rewinding and playing it again. "That can't be real. That's like a full minute of cum."
"It felt like a full minute," Yunjin confirms, swirling her wine. "My face was dripping. It got in my hair and I had to wash it three times."
Shuhua tilts her head, studying the footage with clinical interest. "I've genuinely never seen anyone produce that much. Is that medically normal?"
"He told me he had these gummy bears that act like some ridiculously overpowered aphrodisiac. Explains the massive cum loads. Pure genius." Yunjin takes a sip. "Look at those numbers. People are sharing that clip specifically because of the finish. The algorithm is pushing it."
Chaeyoung covers her eyes. "I can't watch it again. It's too much."
"You literally made out with Somi on camera with cum all over your face," Yunjin reminds her. "Don't get all puritan on me now."
"Watching and actually being part of it are two completely different things,â Chaeyoung replies.
By the way, their duo video is doing pretty well too. Somi's chaotic, aggressive energy mixed with Chaeyoung's softer vibe ended up creating this weirdly perfect contrast people are absolutely obsessed with. The comments are exactly what you'd expect: half thirsty, half completely unhinged. Which is apparently the dream outcome, even if Somi keeps pretending she never reads them. Ning and Shuhua's clip has the lowest numbers so far, but that's mostly because theirs went up last.
"My video's gonna do numbers too. Give it forty eight hours," Ning says, unbothered. "Late posts always start slower. Lower engagement upfront, longer lifespan after. Some big NSFW accounts already picked it up and are funneling people over.â
"You and your analytics," Yunjin mutters.
"My analytics pay my rent."
Asa closes her laptop and leans back against the wall. "Honestly? I think this worked out for everyone. The videos are getting attention, engagement's solid, and none of us got banned. That's good enough for me.â
For a few seconds, the room settles into this quiet, satisfied silence. Then Shuhua casually says, "It's the same guy."
Every head turns. Nobody says anything. Just several seconds of confused blinking until Ning finally asks: "What do you mean?"
Shuhua points at Ning's phone, which still has Yunjin's video paused on screen. "That cock. It's the same one in our video. Look at it. The size, the shape, the slight curve to the left. It's identical."
"No way," Yunjin says. "That's impossible."
"Play all the videos side by side," Shuhua insists. Asa immediately gets to work. A few quick movements later, all four clips are sitting side by side on the screen. She hits play.
The evidence is damning. The same thick shaft. The same slight leftward curve. The same heavy balls. The same pair of hands, same forearms, same skin. It's definitely the same person.
"Oh my god," Chaeyoung breathes.
"It's the same fucking guy," Somi says after a long silence. "How did six different people somehow land on the same nerd? There's no way that's statistically possible."
Ning gives a small shrug. "Shared good taste."
"This isn't funny."
"I'm not joking." Ning barely reacts. "He checked every box. He was available. Apparently very available."
Chaeyoung's face visibly crumples. She sinks lower into Somi's lap and hugs a pillow against herself. "We texted every day...I thought we had something going on.â
"Aw, Chae..." Somi murmurs softly, and her hands go back to braiding Chaeyoung's hair.
Yunjin lowers her wine glass onto the counter and looks around. "Okay, before anyone gets mad⊠I slept with him after.â
"You WHAT?" Somi sits up so fast that Chaeyoung nearly topples off her lap.
"His dick is amazing," Yunjin says, completely unapologetic. "I got hooked. We had sex for hours and I was about to schedule a second date. Sue me."
Chaeyoung's eyes are glassy. "I can't believe I was starting to fall for someone who was getting blowjobs from all my friends behind my back."
"Nobody knew anything," Asa says firmly. "That's the point. None of us coordinated. None of us told each other which guy we picked. We all approached him independently."
Shuhua folds her hands in her lap. "I asked him directly. When Ning and I found him in the park, I asked if any girl had ever approached him before with the same request. He told us no. That we were the first."
"That lying piece of shit," Somi hisses.
"Honestly?" Asa starts. "We can't judge him. Think about it. If we had known we were all using the same guy, we would have dropped him immediately. He saw an opportunity and he took it."
Shuhua nods. "It's somewhat fair when you consider the full picture. We used him for content and engagement. He used the situation for his own benefit. We're not really in a position to be angry."
"I'm in a position to be angry," Somi declares. Chaeyoung sniffles. Somi's hand moves from her hair to her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. "I warned you that you deserved better than him," she says.
Ning rolls her eyes from the armchair. "Please. It's not like she and him were dating. There was no exclusivity, no commitment, no cheating. She texted him for a few days. That's hardly a betrayal."
"It felt like something," Chaeyoung mumbles into the pillow.
Yunjin walks around the couch and stands in front of all of them. Her posture shifts, shoulders back, chin up, that specific energy she gets when a plan is forming behind her eyes. "We're all going out," she announces.
"Out where?" Asa asks.
"The mall. After hours. We're going to find him and we're going to settle this."
"Settle it how?" Shuhua inquires, politely but with clear suspicion.
"Chaeyoung, text him right now. Tell him to meet us." Yunjin pauses. "Actually, forget it. Let me handle this. I know how to persuade him."
Somi crosses her arms, careful not to dislodge Chaeyoung from her lap. "What exactly are you planning, Yunjin?"
Yunjin looks at her like the answer should be written on the ceiling. "Isn't it obvious? A fucking orgy. All six of us. One night. One guy. In the mall after closing."
Asa grins and laughs. âGirl, youâve officially lost it.â
"Consider it a farewell orgy," Yunjin continues, pacing now, warming to the idea. "We get it out of our systems. All of us. Every last fantasy and curiosity and frustration. And after that, he's free. Completely free for Chaeyoung, if she still wants him. Clean slate."
Shuhua raises a finger. "Nobody is pursuing him. The only person who had sex with him outside of the challenge was you."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miss Dump-the-Lore. I'm horny and I want an orgy. Are you in or not?"
"Fuck it," Somi says. "This is my shot at getting even. I'm gonna destroy that dick. Brutally.â
Asa sets her laptop aside and stretches her arms above her head. "I'm in too. I'll admit it. I've been curious about what that thing feels like somewhere other than my throat."
Ning locks her phone and swings her legs off the armchair. "I'm in. I'm honestly curious to see how this drama's gonna end. Plus Amazon still hasn't delivered my new super vibrator, and rewatching all those clips got me horny as hell.â
Shuhua smooths her skirt over her knees, considering. "Since everyone else is going, I suppose I'll participate as well.
Everyoneâs attention lands on Chaeyoung. She slowly raises her head from the pillow in Somiâs lap, pink-cheeked and blinking through damp lashes. â...Fine,â she says. âIâm in too. I want to feel that cock filling me, stretching my pussy open.â She glances down, embarrassed but honest. âI dreamed about it last night and woke up dripping.â
Then comes the collective murmur. Quiet gasps. Suppressed laughs. Multiple people making deeply judgmental mmm sounds at once. Chaeyoung lets out a tiny embarrassed laugh and hides behind her pillow again.
"Oh my god, shut up," she mumbles. "All of you, shut up, please.â
Yunjin claps her hands together so hard it echoes off the apartment walls. "Perfect! Up, everyone. Go get changed." She grabs her keys from the counter and points at the group. "And I hope every single one of you is on the pill, because things are going to get pretty fucking intense.â
â
The mall is nearly deserted when you get there. A handful of people drift toward the exits while janitors sweep through the empty walkways. The background music hums through the open space, weirdly loud without the usual crowd to drown it out. At the top of the escalator, you spot them right away. Six girls sitting around a table by the pretzel stand, looking way too good to be here for anything innocent. You know exactly what this is. You figured it out the second Yunjin texted you. The gameâs up. And somehow, instead of feeling nervous, you feel completely calm. You stroll over with your hands in your pockets and pull up a chair.
"Hey girls," you say, sitting down and leaning back. "How are the videos going?"
Somiâs glare is intense enough to be considered a health hazard. Her arms are folded tightly, her expression hard, pure annoyance radiating off her in waves. Yunjin, on the other hand, looks almost entertained. She rests her chin in her hand and studies you with narrowed eyes.
âWow,â she says. âYou really had us all fooled, huh? Playing all six of us while acting like you didnât know what was happening.â
You shrug. "You guys wanted to use me for content. I let you. Every single time. The fact that you all happened to pick the same guy isn't really my problem to solve."
Shuhua tilts her head. Those elegant features carry a trace of genuine hurt underneath the composure. "You lied to me. I asked you directly if anyone else had approached you, and you looked me in the eyes and said no."
"Yeah," you admit. No point denying it. "I did. But be honest, the video turned out great, didn't it? If you'd known I already filmed with four other girls, you would've found someone else, and maybe that someone else wouldn't have been half as good on camera."
Ning, who's been scrolling through engagement metrics on her phone this entire time, murmurs without looking up. "He has a point."
"Don't encourage him," Somi snaps.
Chaeyoung hasn't said much. She's sitting between Somi and Asa, picking at the sleeve of her sweater. When she finally glances up, her face is calm, but her eyes give her away. Thereâs hurt there, even if sheâs trying to hide it.
"You were sleeping with Yunjin," she says quietly.
"This only happened once.â
Somi leans forward. "Chaeyoung likes you, you absolute idiot."
You meet Chaeyoungâs eyes and hold them. âHey, I like you too. But weâve been talking for less than a weekâ You spread your hands toward the table. âAnd I didnât exactly know what to make of you yet. Mostly because, no offenseâŠâ You gesture at the others. âThe people youâre surrounded by arenât exactly screaming reliable.â
Asa slowly lowers her iced coffee onto the table. âAnd what exactly is that supposed to mean? Are you calling us sluts?â
âAsa, you literally called yourself a slut in the library. Those were your exact words.â
âYeah, and when we say it, itâs empowering,â Asa shoots back smoothly. âItâs reclaiming the word. We're owning our choices, our bodies, and making money on our own terms. Itâs about autonomy. What youâre doing is using it like an insult, which is a completely different thing.â
You raise your palms in surrender. "Fair enough. My bad. So why am I here? Are you gonna jump me in a food court? Beat me up behind a Cinnabon?"
Yunjin's smile spreads slow and dangerous. "Something like that. We do plan to break you. Just not in the way you're thinking." She pauses for effect, clearly enjoying herself. "We want to fuck you."
You blink. Then you lean back in the chair and let out a long breath through your nose. âOh.â You nod once. âYeah. Okay. That probably shouldâve been my first guess.â Your eyes find Chaeyoung again. "Are you okay with this?"
She gives a small shrug that's trying very hard to look casual. "Why wouldn't I be? You're not my boyfriend or anything."
âFor the record,â you say, tone shifting into something more genuine, âIâve actually really liked talking to you. The late-night texts, the movie recs, all of it. Iâd like that to keep being a thing. No matter what happens tonight.â
Chaeyoung watches you for a second, searching your face. Then a small smile tugs at her lips. âIf you make me cum hard enough,â she says lightly, âI might hear your case.â
Somi snorts. Ning grins.
"I don't think I deserve to be put on trial here when I didn't actually do anything wrong," you reply. "But fine. Challenge accepted."
Ning tucks her phone into her purse and claps once. "Okay, okay, enough with the romance subplot. How exactly are we doing this? Logistics. Where, when, how."
You look around the emptying food court. "You're not seriously planning to do this here. In the mall."
Yunjin spreads her arms wide. "We've already filmed blowjobs in a library, a classroom, a theater, and a car. What's a mall?"
"The difference is we could get caught and arrested. All seven of us. Public indecency. That goes on a record."
Asa sets her iced coffee down like sheâs been waiting for the perfect moment to speak. She clears her throat and begins: âThe mall closes in twenty minutes. After that, security drops to basically nothing. One guard for the whole building, and he usually camps out by the loading dock on the north side.â
Everyone turns to stare at her.
Completely unfazed, she keeps going: âI know a girl who works at the mattress store on the first floor. SleepHaven, over by the west corridor. She told me that whole section had all its security cameras taken down for replacement this morning, and the install crew never showed. No cameras until at least Monday.â She takes a casual sip of her coffee. âIâll head down now, ask to use the restroom, pretend to leave, then hide in there until they lock up. The bathroom lockâs been broken for weeks, so thereâs no chance of getting stuck. Once the storeâs closed and everyoneâs gone, Iâll open the front gate from the inside and let you all in.â
Silence around the table. Shuhua exhales slowly. "So either this is going to be the best sex any of us have ever had, or we get arrested, end up on the local news, and our lives are effectively over."
Yunjin grins so wide it's almost manic. "Both of those outcomes sound pretty great to me. Let's go."
Chaeyoung shifts nervously in her seat. Ning puts a hand on her knee under the table. "Relax. Think about that huge cock that's about to be inside you. Focus on the positives."
"I'm literally right here," you say.
Ning just smirks at you. Doesn't say a word. Shuhua stands up and smooths down her skirt. "Fine. Let's go to the first floor. Split up. Move separately. Stay away from any active camera zones. We'll reconvene at the restrooms near the west corridor."
And that's how you end up locked in a mall bathroom stall at eleven thirty on a Saturday night, sitting on a closed toilet lid, scrolling through your phone while the building goes quiet around you. The lights in the corridor outside dim to half power. The muzak cuts off. You hear the distant rumble of security gates being pulled down over storefronts.
Forty minutes pass. Your phone buzzes. Yunjin's text reads:
on our way. going separately. be careful
You crack the stall door open and listen. Nothing. You slip out of the restroom and into the corridor. The first floor is eerie with most of the lights off, storefronts shuttered behind metal gates, the air conditioning humming low. Your sneakers barely make a sound on the polished floor. When you reach SleepHaven, five silhouettes are already gathered outside the gate. Asa's face appears behind the glass a moment later. She fiddles with something, and the front gate slides open just enough for everyone to duck under.
You file in one by one. Asa pulls the gate back down behind you. Yunjin doesn't waste a second. She kicks off her shoes and throws herself backward onto a king size display mattress near the front.
"The universe loves me. An orgy in a mattress store. This is genuinely the greatest night of my life."
Asa hisses at her immediately. "Keep it down. And we can't do this out here, anyone walking by the storefront might overhear. Grab a mattress, take it to the back area behind the counter. There are pillars back there, it's more concealed."
They end up choosing a queen-size display bed thatâs already dressed in spotless sheets and looks ridiculously high-end. You grab one end, Somi grabs the other, and together you haul it behind the service counter to the back section of the store. Yunjin surveys the setup and nods approvingly. "This is actually perfect. Way better than I expected."
Shuhua is running her hand along the sheets. "This is a three thousand dollar mattress. Egyptian cotton sheets. If we're going to commit a felony, at least we're doing it in luxury."
"Okay," you say, standing at the edge of the mattress. "I'm going to be honest. I have absolutely no idea how this works. I've never done anything like this before."
Somi steps forward. She puts one hand flat on your chest and pushes. Hard. You lose your balance and fall backward onto the mattress, the expensive sheets puffing up around you. "Lie down," Somi orders, looking down at you. "And leave the rest to us."
You look up at the six girls standing over you and grin, sinking deeper into the mattress. âAlright then,â you say. âIâm at your service.â
Thereâs no drawn-out moment to it. Everyone just starts undressing. Yunjin finishes pulling off the top sheâd already loosened earlier and casually flings it behind the counter. Somi pops her bra loose with one hand while kicking off her jeans. Ning pauses long enough to fold her skirt perfectly before setting it aside. Chaeyoung turns a little as she slips out of her bra, clearly self-conscious, while Asa strips down with the detached efficiency of someone changing after class. Shuhua carefully unbuttons her blouse, smoothing it flat over a nearby pillow.
You pull your shirt over your head, shove your jeans and boxers down, and your cock springs free. Already half hard from the sheer visual assault of six naked women in a dimly lit mattress store.
Yunjin goes first, exactly as everyone expected. She swings herself over your lap, straddling your hips as the mattress dips beneath her knees. Then she leans in and claims your mouth without warning, her tongue sliding past your lips like sheâs not interested in asking permission. Thereâs nothing tentative about it. She kisses hard and deep, all heat and confidence. Her hand snakes down between your bodies, gripping your cock and stroking until youâre fully hard under her touch. Then she guides you lower, dragging the tip through her soaked folds until it catches at her entrance.
"God, I'll literally never get tired of this," Yunjin breathes against your lips. "The way you stretch me open. It's so fucking good every single time." She sinks down. Slow. Taking inch after inch until her ass meets your thighs and she's fully seated with your entire length buried inside her. Her walls grip you tight, clenching, adjusting. Her head tips back and her mouth falls open.
Then Somi is there. Standing over you, looking down at your face with that cold, mean expression she wears so well.
"Alright," she says, one leg swinging over your head. "Let's put that tongue to work. See if it's actually good for anything besides lying to people."
She lowers herself onto your mouth. Her pussy presses against your lips, wet and warm, her thighs framing your face. She's facing Yunjin, their knees almost touching on either side of your body. You flatten your tongue and drag it through her folds, tasting her, finding her clit and circling it. Somi's thighs twitch.
"Don't be gentle about it," she tells you, grinding down harder. "You owe me."
To your left, Ning takes Chaeyoung's hand. "C'mon babe, lie down," she murmurs. "We're not just gonna stand here watching."
Chaeyoung settles onto the mattress beside you, on her back, her dark hair fanning out across the white sheets. Ning crawls between her legs, pushes her thighs apart, and dips her head. Chaeyoung gasps when Ning's tongue touches her, her back arching slightly off the mattress.
Behind Ning, Asa kneels. With Ning on all fours, her ass presented perfectly, Asa spreads her cheeks with both hands and buries her face between them. Her tongue drags from Ning's clit all the way back, slow and thorough, circling her asshole before dipping back down to her pussy. Ning moans into Chaeyoung, the vibration making Chaeyoung whimper. Shuhua watches. She's standing beside the mattress, one hand between her own legs, fingers sliding through her wetness as she takes in the scene. Her eyes are locked on where Yunjin's body meets yours, watching your cock disappear inside her with each roll of her hips.
Yunjin notices. She reaches out with one hand, hooks it behind Shuhua's neck, and pulls her in for a kiss. Shuhua leans into it, her fingers working faster between her thighs while Yunjin's tongue slides against hers.
Yunjin breaks the kiss and looks back at Somi. "Fuck, your tits look so good from here," she says, openly staring at the way Somi's chest bounces with each shift of her hips against your face. "So fucking hot, seriously."
"I know," Somi responds, not even slightly humble about it. She rolls her hips forward, smearing herself across your mouth. "Deeper. Get your tongue inside me."
You push your tongue into her, as deep as it'll go, and she grinds down on it. Her full weight presses against your face, and breathing becomes genuinely difficult. Your nose is pressed against her clit, your mouth completely covered by her pussy. She's suffocating you and she knows it and she doesn't care.
Itâs heaven. Youâd die smiling buried in her ass.
Yunjin picks up her pace on top of you. She plants her hands on your chest and starts really riding, lifting her hips until just the tip remains inside before dropping back down with her full weight. Each time she takes you to the root, her breath hitches, her nails dig into your skin. Your cock is coated in her arousal, glistening every time she rises.
"You feel so deep like this," Yunjin groans, rolling her hips in a circle before slamming back down. "I swear you're in my fucking stomach right now."
Somi reaches forward and grabs one of Yunjin's tits, squeezing roughly. "Ride him harder. I wanna feel him moan into me when you do it." Yunjin laughs breathlessly and complies. She speeds up, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the dark store. Every time she bottoms out, your hips jerk involuntarily, and Somi feels the moan travel through your tongue directly into her cunt. She bites her lip, satisfied.
To your left, Chaeyoung is squirming under Ning's mouth. Her fingers are tangled in Ning's hair, pulling gently, her chest heaving. "Right there, Ning, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop."
Ning hums in acknowledgment, then gasps herself as Asa's tongue pushes inside her ass. Her back dips, pushing her hips back against Asa's face, seeking more.
"Asa, that feels insane," Ning mumbles between Chaeyoung's legs. "Do that again." Asa doesn't respond verbally. She just grips Ning's hips tighter and keeps going, alternating between her holes with a precision that has Ning trembling on her knees.
Shuhua pulls away from kissing Yunjin and kneels beside the mattress, still touching herself. âYunjin, if I may say so, you look exceptionally pretty taking that cock,â says softly, and even her dirty talk sounds polished somehow. âThe way it stretches you is... deeply impressive.â
"Shu, babe, it's unreal," Yunjin responds between bounces. "His dick is literally ruining me for everyone else. That's not even a joke. No one else is ever gonna measure up."
Somi grabs the back of your head with one hand, lifting it slightly, pressing you harder against her. Your tongue aches from the effort but you keep going, sucking her clit between your lips, flicking it rapidly. Her thighs are shaking now. "Shit," Somi breathes. "Okay, maybe your mouth isn't completely useless."
Yunjin's rhythm becomes erratic. She's chasing it now, grinding her clit against your pelvis with each downstroke, her walls clenching tighter around you. Her moans get louder, less controlled. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," she pants. "Your cock is so deep, I can feel it everywhere, I'm literally about to lose it."
She slams down one final time and holds there, grinding in tight circles. Her whole body seizes, thighs clamping against your sides, her pussy spasming around your shaft in rhythmic pulses. She throws her head back and her mouth opens in a silent scream before the sound catches up, a long, shuddering moan that echoes off the store walls. Somi watches Yunjin cum and something about it tips her over the edge too. Her thighs slam shut around your head, trapping you completely, her hips bucking against your mouth in short, sharp jerks.
"Don't you dare stop," she hisses through her teeth, one hand braced on Yunjin's shoulder. Her whole body goes rigid for three seconds, then she comes apart, grinding down on your tongue through it, her slick flooding your lips and chin. Her legs tremble violently on either side of your head before she finally loosens her grip and you gasp for air.
They both climb off. Your face is drenched, Somi's arousal smeared from your forehead to your chin. Your cock is still hard, still throbbing, slick with Yunjin's cum.
Yunjin collapses onto the edge of the mattress, spent and grinning. "Okay. Who's next."
Chaeyoung sits up. Her cheeks are flushed from whatever Ning was doing to her moments ago, her eyes bright. "Me!"
The other girls shift, making room. Ning wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Asa sits back on her heels. You pull yourself upright and move toward Chaeyoung, settling between her legs as she lies back down. You look down at her. She looks up at you. In the dim glow of the emergency lights, her face is soft and beautiful and a little nervous.
You smile softly. âHey.â
She meets it with a little smile of her own. âHey.â
"I'm gonna go slow," you tell her quietly. Just for her. "You tell me to stop whenever you need me to." She nods, her hand finding yours on the sheet and squeezing gently.
You guide yourself to Chaeyoung's entrance and press forward. Just the tip at first, barely pushing in, letting her feel the stretch before you commit. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting, fingers curling into the sheets beneath her. "Oh my god," she whispers, staring up at you. "That's just the beginning?"
"Just the beginning," you confirm, and push another inch inside her.
Behind you, the mattress shifts as everyone else finds their positions. Yunjin grabs Shuhua by the waist and pulls her close, tangling their legs together until their pussies press flush against each other. Yunjin starts grinding immediately, rolling her hips in slow, lazy circles, her wetness mixing with Shuhua's. A few feet away, Ning swings a leg over Asa's face and settles down, her knees bracketing Asa's head. Asa's hands come up to grip Ning's thighs and she gets to work without being asked. Somi kneels between Asa's spread legs, slides two fingers inside her, and starts pumping with a casual, almost bored efficiency that makes it clear she's done this before.
You sink deeper into Chaeyoung. She grabs your forearm, squeezing hard, her back lifting off the mattress. You stop halfway and let her breathe. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just... give me a sec. You're really thick." She exhales slowly, her walls fluttering around you, adjusting. Then she nods. "Keep going." You push the rest of the way in. All of it. Chaeyoung's mouth falls open and no sound comes out for a solid three seconds. Then she lets out this shaky, overwhelmed little moan that makes Yunjin glance over from her scissoring position and grin.
"There it is," Yunjin says approvingly, grinding harder against Shuhua. "That's the face. I made that exact same face my first time with him."
You pull back slowly and thrust in again, building a gentle rhythm. Chaeyoung's hands find your shoulders, pulling you down closer. You lean in and kiss her, soft and deep, and she melts into it. When you pull back, she's smiling.
"You taste like Somi," she murmurs against your lips.
"Bet that's a taste you know pretty well."
Chaeyoung's cheeks flush even darker. "Maybe."
Somi doesn't even look up from fingering Asa. "I heard that. And yes, she does."
Ning laughs from her perch on Asa's face, then cuts herself off with a sharp gasp when Asa does something particularly good with her tongue. "Fuck, Asa, what are you doing down there? That's so good, keep doing that."
Asa can't respond because her mouth is full of Ning's pussy, but she gives a thumbs up with one hand, which makes Shuhua giggle breathlessly from where she's grinding against Yunjin.
"This is genuinely the most unhinged thing I've ever participated in," Shuhua manages between heavy breaths, her hips moving in rhythm with Yunjin's. "And I'm including the time Ning convinced me to skinny dip at that resort."
"Shu, babe, this is so much better than skinny dipping," Yunjin replies, reaching down to adjust the angle of their hips so their clits press together more directly. Shuhua whimpers at the change in pressure. "This is like... peak friendship activities right here."
You pick up the pace with Chaeyoung. She wraps her legs around your waist, locking her ankles behind your back, and the new angle lets you go deeper. Her nails rake down your shoulders. "Right there," she breathes. "Oh god, right there, don't move from that spot."
"Chae's getting loud," Somi observes, curling her fingers inside Asa and making her jolt. "I love that for her honestly."
"She deserves it," Ning says, then rolls her hips against Asa's mouth, chasing the sensation. "After all those sad little crushes she's had? Let the girl have her moment."
"Can you guys stop talking about me while I'm getting fucked, please," Chaeyoung says, but she's laughing, and then the laugh dissolves into a moan when you thrust particularly deep.
Yunjin is sweating. They're all sweating. The store has no ventilation running this late, and the combined body heat of seven people fucking on a three thousand dollar mattress has turned the back area into a sauna. Skin glistens under the dim emergency lighting. The sounds are obscene and layered: wet skin, heavy breathing, Ning's sharp little gasps mixing with Shuhua's softer ones, the rhythmic slap of your hips meeting Chaeyoung's.
Somi adds a third finger inside Asa, stretching her, and Asa's hips buck off the mattress. Ning grabs Somi's shoulder to keep her balance. "Warn me before you do that, she almost threw me off."
"Not my fault Asa's a squirmer," Somi says, pumping faster. "You good down there, Asa?"
Asa pulls her mouth away from Ning just long enough to gasp, "So fucking good, oh my god, keep going,â before Ning pushes her head back down.
"Nope, you're not done," Ning tells her sweetly.
You shift your weight onto one arm and bring your free hand down between your body and Chaeyoung's. Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and sensitive, and you start rubbing in slow circles while you fuck her. The effect is instantaneous. Chaeyoung's whole body tenses, her grip on your shoulders turning desperate.
"Oh fuck," she gasps. "Oh fuck, that's not fair, you can't do both at the same time."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm gonna lose my mind, that's why." Her hips are grinding up to meet yours now, matching your rhythm, trying to get more of everything at once. "Your cock is literally splitting me open and now you're touching my clit and I can't, I actually can'tâ"
Yunjin, still grinding against Shuhua, looks over with pure delight on her face. "She's gonna blow. Look at her legs shaking."
Ning is rocking faster on Asa's face, she grabs her own breast, squeezing, her head tipping back. "Shit, I'm close too. Asa, please, keep going, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum so hard."
You press harder on Chaeyoung's clit, rubbing faster, your hips snapping into her with deep, steady strokes. She's clenching around you so tight it's almost difficult to move. Her moans have gone high and thin, her eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body coiling. "Look at me," you tell her quietly. She opens her eyes. They're glassy, overwhelmed, gorgeous. "Cum for me, Chae."
She shatters. Her back arches completely off the mattress, her legs lock around you, and her pussy clamps down on your cock in hard, rhythmic spasms. And then the gush comes. Warm and sudden, soaking your pelvis, the sheets beneath her, running down your thighs. She's squirting, hard, her whole body convulsing with it.
Yunjin's jaw drops mid grind. "Holy shit, she's squirting! She's literally squirting all over that poor mattress!"
The sight of it pushes Ning over. She grinds down on Asa's mouth one final time and cums, her thighs clamping around Asa's head, her fingers digging into Somi's shoulder hard. Asa cums seconds later from Somi's relentless fingers, her legs trembling and her muffled moans vibrating against Ning's cunt. Shuhua follows, burying her face in Yunjin's neck, flushed and panting, her hips stuttering through the last waves of her orgasm.
Somi pulls her fingers out of Asa, holds them up, glistening and dripping, and licks them clean with a look of pure satisfaction.
Chaeyoung is still trembling beneath you, aftershocks rolling through her. "I'm so sorry," she pants, looking down at the soaked sheets. "I came so hard. I couldn't help it. I've never done that before."
"Don't you dare apologize for squirting," Yunjin says firmly, wiping sweat from her forehead. "That was the hottest thing you could have possibly done."
Somi nods. "We'll deal with the mattress situation later. Not important right now."
"Agreed," Ning says, climbing off Asa's face and stretching. Her legs are still wobbly. She looks at your cock, still hard, still wet with Chaeyoung's cum, and her eyes sharpen with hunger. "Because I need that inside me right now. Immediately."
Yunjin sits up, her director energy returning. "Okay then. Asa, Ning, Shu. Line up. On all fours. Show us these pretty pussies." The three of them arrange themselves side by side on the mattress, knees spread, backs arched, asses presented. Asa, Ning, Shuhua. Three different body types, three different skin tones, all of them glistening with sweat and each other's spit.
Yunjin beckons you over. "Come fuck these little sluts, nerd.â
Somi circles around to the front of the lineup, taking her time as she studies them from the other side. Her gaze drifts over the three bent bodies, the way theyâre all presented for you, and then she reaches out without warning and gives Shuhuaâs ass a sharp smack. She jolts with a startled yelp, shooting Somi a scandalized look.
âHey! Warn me before you start getting handsy.â
Somi only grins, entirely unbothered, then turns that wicked little expression on you. "Look at them. Three tight little pussies all lined up just for you. How's that feel?â
You stare at the three of them, each one looking back over her shoulder at you, waiting. Your cock throbs. "I genuinely cannot put what I'm feeling into words.â
Yunjin snorts, arms crossed. "Then stop trying to put it into words and start putting your cock in them. That's the only language they need right now.â
Asa, her ass arched perfectly, her cheek resting on her folded arms, glances back at Yunjin with a lazy grin. "Wow. Shakespeare could never.â
Yunjin kneels beside Shuhua and grabs both her cheeks, spreading them open with her thumbs, putting everything on display for you. Shuhua's pussy is glistening, swollen, absolutely dripping from her earlier orgasm and the continued arousal of watching everyone else get fucked.
"C'mon," she says, looking up at you with that insatiable grin. "Time to fuck."
Thereâs no teasing pause. You guide yourself against her and push in. The head breaches Shuhua's entrance and she immediately drops her forehead to the mattress, her fingers clawing at the sheets. You stop with just the tip inside, letting her adjust. Her walls are squeezing you so tight it's almost resistance. "Oh," Shuhua breathes. "Oh, that's... that is significantly larger than I anticipated."
Ning, still on all fours beside her, glances over. "Girl, breathe. You'll get used to it."
"Easy for you to say, you haven't taken it yet," Shuhua replies through gritted teeth, but she pushes her hips back slightly, taking another inch on her own terms. You grip her hips and feed her more, slow, steady. Shuhua's spine curves downward, her shoulder blades pinching together. When you're about three quarters in, she lets out this long, shaking exhale.
"I've used large toys before," she says, almost conversationally despite the strain in her tone. "This doesn't even compare. The heat, the way it throbs. It's completely different."
"You doing okay?" you ask, rubbing your thumb along her hip bone.
"More than okay. Please keep going." You bottom out inside her and Shuhua makes a sound you've never heard from her before. Something between a whimper and a laugh, surprised and overwhelmed and deeply pleased all at once. You start moving, pulling back slow and pushing in deep, establishing a rhythm that lets her feel every inch.
On the other end of the mattress, Somi has pulled Chaeyoung into her lap. They're kissing, messy and unhurried, Somi's hands tangled in Chaeyoung's hair. Somi breaks away and licks her lower lip.
"You were so fucking hot squirting like that," Somi murmurs against Chaeyoung's mouth. "I almost came just watching you." Chaeyoung blushes but grins. Her hand traces down Somi's stomach, over her navel, and slips between her thighs. She pushes two fingers inside Somi without warning. Somi gasps, her hips jerking forward. "Shit, Chae, warn a girl."
"You didn't warn me when you shoved my face down on his cock," Chaeyoung replies sweetly, curling her fingers.
Somi's head tips back. "Okay fair. Fuck. Keep going, baby. Finger that wet pussy while I watch them get wrecked."
You're building speed inside Shuhua now. Her initial tension has dissolved into pure pleasure, her hips rocking back to meet your thrusts. Yunjin hasn't moved from her spot beside the lineup. She leans in and spits directly on where your cock meets Shuhua's pussy, the saliva mixing with the mess already there.
"That's it," Yunjin says, watching with dark, hungry eyes. "Fuck her good. Look at how well she takes it now."
"Yunjin," Shuhua manages, "please stop narrating and let me enjoy this."
"Never. This is the best show I've ever seen."
You pull out of Shuhua and she whines at the loss. Ning is next. You shift over, position yourself behind her, and push in. Ning is wetter than Shuhua was, practically dripping down her thighs already, but she's just as tight. The first few inches make her gasp and grab the mattress. "Fuck me," Ning breathes. "Okay. Okay I get it now. I get why Yunjin lost her mind over this."
"Right?" Yunjin says proudly. "Told you." You sink deeper and Ning's arms give out. Her chest presses flat against the mattress, ass still raised, and you can feel her clenching around you, her body trying to accommodate the stretch. You give her a moment, then start thrusting. Ning buries her face in her arms and moans.
Yunjin spits on Ning's pussy too, then smacks her ass lightly. "Take that dick, Ning. You were bragging about your skills all week, show me you can handle it."
"I am handling it," Ning says, except she very clearly isn't. Her voice is trembling. "It's just... a lot. God, it's so much."
Across the mattress, Chaeyoung has migrated lower. She's got her mouth on Somi's left breast, sucking the nipple between her lips while her fingers keep working inside her. Somi watches her with hooded eyes, one hand on the back of Chaeyoung's head.
"I love your tits so much," Chaeyoung mumbles against the soft skin, switching to the other one. "They're ridiculous. Like genuinely unfair."
"Babe, you can have them whenever you want," Somi replies, arching into her mouth. "Just keep doing what you're doing with those fingers."
You pull out of Ning and move to Asa. She's been waiting patiently, her cheek resting on her folded arms, watching you fuck the other two with analytical interest. When you press against her entrance, she pushes back immediately, trying to take you in one motion. But her body resists. She only gets halfway before she hisses and stops.
"Shit," Asa says, surprised. "I thought I was ready. That's thicker than it looks."
"Take your time."
"No, just push. I can handle it." You push. Asa's fingers curl into fists and she breathes out hard through her nose, but she doesn't tell you to stop. When you're fully seated inside her, she lets out a low groan that sounds almost relieved. "Okay," she says. "Yeah. That's incredible actually."
You start fucking her, and Asa is different from the other two. She pushes back to meet every thrust, matches your rhythm instantly, treats it almost like a collaboration. Her pussy grips you perfectly, slick and hot and eager.
Yunjin is in her element. She moves between the three of them, spitting on each pussy as you rotate, slapping asses, gripping hair, running her nails down their spines. She's the conductor of this whole symphony and she's loving every second.
"Look at them," she says to you, spreading Asa's cheeks so you can watch yourself slide in and out. "Look at how they take that fat cock. They're soaking. All three of them are dripping for you."
You switch back to Shuhua. She cries out when you enter her again, pushing back greedily. Then to Ning, who's so wet now that the sounds are obscene, filthy and loud in the quiet store. Then Asa again, who grinds back against you with precision.
Yunjin crouches next to Ning's face and lifts her chin. "You like getting fucked like this? Getting shared? All three of you lined up like good little sluts?" Ning just moans in response, her eyes glassy. "If I'd brought my strap we could've been double teaming these pussies," she continues, looking back at you. "Next time. Definitely next time. Me and you, fucking them from both ends."
Somi pulls Chaeyoung's mouth off her breast to watch. "They look so good from here. Especially Shuhua. She's completely gone."
Chaeyoung nods, her fingers still buried inside Somi, pumping steadily. "She's always so put together. It's nice seeing her fall apart."
You keep rotating. Shuhua cums first. You're deep inside her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her shoulder, and she turns her face to the side so you can see her expression when it hits. Her eyes flutter shut, her mouth opens, and she comes apart in these beautiful, controlled waves, her pussy milking your cock through each contraction. Somehow even this is elegant.
Asa goes next. You're gripping her waist, pounding into her at a pace she set herself, and her head drops forward. "There, there, fuck, right there, I'm cumming," she whispers, and her whole body seizes. Her walls clamp down so hard it almost stops your movement. She shakes through it, silent except for these tiny, breathy sounds.
Ning is last. You're still inside Asa when Yunjin says, "Ning needs to cum. Go wreck her." You pull out of Asa and push into Ning. She's so sensitive at this point that she flinches at the first thrust. Yunjin grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her head back. "Grab her hair," Yunjin tells you. "Fuck her hard. She can take it."
You wrap Ning's hair around your fist and pull. She gasps, her back arching severely. You start pounding into her. Hard. Deep. Relentless. Ning's moans escalate rapidly into something approaching a scream.
"Ning!" Shuhua hisses sharply. "The security guard. Keep it down."
Ning slaps her own hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, her body jolting with each thrust.
The muffled sounds leaking through her fingers are still loud but contained. You don't stop. You fuck her through it, pulling her hair, driving into her until her thighs start shaking violently and she cums with a strangled sound behind her palm, her pussy contracting around you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. Her entire body goes limp when it passes, collapsing flat onto the mattress.
You pull out, wipe the sweat from your forehead, and sit back on your heels. Your cock is glistening, impossibly hard still, twitching against your stomach. "That was insane," you pant, looking at the three spent girls in front of you. "Seriously. I don't know how guys in porn last this long. My legs are shaking."
"Well," Somi says, extracting herself from Chaeyoung's fingers and crawling toward you. "You better hold on a little longer. Because now it's my turn."
She pushes you flat on your back. You hit the mattress with a grunt. Somi swings a leg over your hips, but instead of facing you normally, she plants her feet on either side of your chest, squatting over your cock in a deep stance. Her thighs flex, her core engages, and she grips the base of your shaft to line you up.
Yunjin slaps the mattress with both hands. "Yes! Amazon position! Go for it, Somi, ride that cock!"
Ning, still flat on her stomach recovering, lifts her head long enough to whistle. Shuhua immediately makes a sharp shushing sound at her, eyes wide.
Somi stares down at you, face unreadable except for that familiar look of mild annoyance she somehow manages to make attractive. Calm. Detached. In control. "Let's see what all the fuss is about," she says. "Everyone else completely lost their shit over this. I don't buy it.â
She lowers herself onto you. Inch by agonizing inch. In this position, squatting over you with her feet planted on either side of your chest, Somi controls everything. The angle, the depth, the speed. You can't thrust up, can't grab her hips, can't do anything except lie there and take what she decides to give you. Your cock stretches her open and you watch her face. She's fighting. Every micro expression is a battle between the pleasure flooding her body and the icy composure she refuses to drop, even as her jaw tightens and her breathing starts to lose its rhythm. Her thighs tremble as she sinks lower, swallowing more of you inside her, her pussy spreading around your girth.
She stops about halfway. Breathes. Then pushes down the rest of the way until her ass meets your pelvis and every inch of you is buried in her. Her eyes close for exactly one second. When they open again, she's rearranged her expression into something cool and unaffected.
"Okay," she says, looking down at you. "I'll give you this much. It's a pretty impressive cock." She shifts her hips, adjusting to the fullness, and you feel her walls squeeze around you involuntarily. "Real waste that it belongs to someone like you, though."
"Sorry about that," you reply, your breath catching as she clenches again. "I'll try to be hotter next time."
"Shut up. Don't talk. Just lie there and let me use you like the stupid little toy you are."
Somi starts moving. Slowly at first. She lifts her hips until barely anything remains, pauses for a second, then sinks back down with controlled force. The impact sends a sharp jolt through you. Then she does it again. And again. Gradually settling into a rhythm she seems satisfied with. Her pussy grips your shaft on every upstroke, wet and impossibly tight, then swallows you whole on the way back down.
The view from below is staggering. Somi's body is built for this. Her slim waist, her toned stomach flexing with each movement, and those massive breasts bouncing with every drop of her hips. They move almost independently, heavy and full, swaying and colliding against each other. Sweat is beginning to bead along her collarbones, rolling down between them.
Yunjin sits cross legged on the mattress, watching with her chin propped on her fist. "Okay, she looks fucking incredible doing that. Like, objectively."
Ning nods slowly, still recovering from her own orgasm, lying on her stomach with her chin in her hands. "It's giving professional athlete. The core strength alone."
"Seriously though," Asa adds, tilting her head to study Somi's form. "Look at the control she has. She's basically doing weighted squats right now. That's genuinely impressive."
Shuhua watches from beside Yunjin. "If I tried to do that, I would absolutely injure my lower back."
Asa glances at her. "That's because you used to walk around with your spine curved like a shrimp, Shu. You have the posture of someone who's been gaming for twelve hours straight. You only realized because Yunjin took that cursed picture of you.â
Yunjin barks out a laugh. Shuhua's mouth falls open. "That was truly offensive," Shuhua says quietly. "And for the record, I'm fixing it. My posture's good now. I bought a posture corrector and everything."
"Girl, that thing is still in the packaging on your desk," Ning says without looking up.
Somi ignores all of them. She's locked into her rhythm now, bouncing on your cock with increasing intensity, her hands braced on your chest for leverage. Each time she drops down, the sound of skin meeting skin is sharp and wet. Your hands are flat on the mattress because she hasn't given you permission to touch her, and somehow that makes it hotter. She's using you. Completely and totally.
Somi looks down at you, and her mouth curls into something between a smirk and a sneer. "God, you're adorable like this." She rolls her hips in a filthy slow circle, grinding your cock deep before picking her rhythm back up. "Pinned under me. Dumb and hard and just letting me take what I want. Like a good little fucktoy."
"View's pretty good from here too," you breathe, barely getting the words out while her cunt grips you on every drop.
"Yeah?" She lifts almost all the way off, just the tip, then slams her hips down so hard your vision whites out. "Nnnghâ you like this? Like getting fucked stupid by a girl who doesn't give a shit if you cum? Just lying there taking it like an obedient little bitch?"
"Yes," you groan, hands fisting the sheets. "Fuckâ yes, I like it.â
"Of course you do." She picks up speed, and the wet sounds get louder, filthier. Her breasts are bouncing so hard they're practically hitting her chin on every drop. "This is where you belong. On your back, getting used. You should be thanking me."
Yunjin starts clapping rhythmically, like she's at a sporting event. "Let's go Somi! Ride that dick! Let's go Somi!"
Ning immediately joins in, clapping along. "Bounce bounce bounce! Wreck that cock!"
Asa cups her hands around her mouth. "Give me an S! Give me an O! Give me an M!" Give me am I!â
Chaeyoung is giggling uncontrollably, clapping along with them.
Shuhua's eyes go wide. "Can you all please be quieter? There is a security guard somewhere in this building." They all drop to stage whispers, still clapping, still chanting, but at a fraction of the volume. Yunjin is whisper screaming "let's go Somi" with the intensity of a soccer mom at a championship game. Ning is doing quiet finger snaps. Asa is mouthing the letters of Somi's name with exaggerated lip movements.
Somi doesn't acknowledge any of them. She's grinding now, deep and circular, her clit pressing hard against your pelvis on every rotation. Her breathing has changed. Shorter. Sharper. That icy control is fracturing. You can see it in the way her thighs are shaking, the way her nails are digging into your chest, the way she keeps biting the inside of her cheek.
She speeds up again. Full bounces, slamming herself down, taking you to the root every time. Your cock is drenched in her, glistening in the low light. The mattress creaks beneath you. She tilts forward slightly, changing the angle, and her mouth opens in a silent gasp that she immediately tries to suppress.
"Fuck," she whispers. âFuckâŠâ She grinds down hard, circling her hips, pressing her clit against you with desperate pressure. Her thighs clamp around your sides. Her head drops forward, blonde hair curtaining her face, and her whole body locks up. You feel her pussy spasm around you in tight, rhythmic contractions, milking your shaft as the orgasm rolls through her. She grinds through every wave of it, extracting every last second, her hips stuttering and her breath coming in these ragged, broken exhales she can't quite control.
When it passes, she stays seated on you for a long moment. Still full of you. Catching her breath. Then she rises slowly, your cock sliding out of her with a wet, obscene sound, and she climbs off the mattress on slightly unsteady legs.
Somi rakes her fingers through her hair and gives you this perfectly curated look of mild disinterest. "Your dick's... fine. Nothing I couldn't replace with a ten-minute Amazon order.â
Yunjin snorts so hard she almost chokes. "Please. Even you don't believe that. I saw your legs shaking, Somi."
Somi's cheeks flush hot. "That doesn't mean anything. I'm not some pathetic slut who gets attached because a guy has a big dick. That's your department."
Yunjin doesn't flinch. Just smiles, soft and knowing. "You're so full of shit, babe. But it's cute. Keep pretending.â Somi rolls her eyes and turns away, but you catch the faintest trace of a smirk before she kills it.
Then Yunjin claps her hands once and the energy in the room shifts. "Okay. There's someone here who still hasn't gotten off." She looks at you pointedly. Your cock is still hard, still slick, throbbing against your stomach. "Stand up."
You get to your feet. Your legs are genuinely wobbly. Six pairs of eyes look up at you as the girls arrange themselves on their knees in a loose semicircle on the mattress. Asa to your left, Ning and Shuhua in the center, Yunjin to the right, Chaeyoung directly in front of you.
Somi steps forward. She reaches up and slides your glasses off your face. The world goes slightly blurry. Then she turns and places them carefully on Chaeyoung's face. The frames sit crooked on her smaller nose. She adjusts them, pushes them up, and looks up at you through the lenses with those big, pretty eyes.
Yunjin surveys the six of them kneeling around you and puts her hands on her hips. "Alright. Here's how we're doing this. I'll play distributor. Make sure everyone gets their fair share. No one girl hogging more than she's entitled to. Equal distribution of cum across all parties."
Shuhua tilts her head. "That's not really necessary. We're perfectly capable of organizing ourselves. No central authority needed. We just take turns, share naturally, everyone gets what they need."
Yunjin points at her. "And that is how you get one girl with a face full of cum and four girls with nothing. You need structure. Leadership. I'm the one who put this whole thing together. I organized the venue, the logistics, the communication. I am essentially the vanguard of this entire sexually transgressive movement." She pauses, then touches her hair with genuine regret. "Shit, I really should've brought a beret.â
Somi tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and exhales through her nose. "We're literally waiting for him to cum on our faces and you two are doing dialectics.â
"You're not the vanguard of anything," Shuhua replies calmly. "You're just horny and bossy. Those aren't the same thing."
Ning snorts. Asa covers her mouth.
"Can you two please shut up and start sucking," Chaeyoung says flatly, already wrapping her hand around your shaft. Your glasses sit crooked on her face, way too big for her, and she looks up at you through them with this expression that's equal parts sweet and filthy. She leans forward and takes the head into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, tasting the combined slick of every girl who rode you tonight.
"Fine. Actions over theory. I can respect that,â Yunjin says before she ducks her head and runs her tongue along the left side of your shaft while Chaeyoung works the tip. Ning joins from the right, her tongue tracing a vein from base to mid shaft.
Three mouths on you at once. Your cock is more than big enough to accommodate them. Chaeyoung sucks the head with these slow pulls, her cheeks hollowing, while Yunjin and Ning lap at the shaft from either side, their tongues occasionally meeting and sliding against each other.
Somi kneels behind Chaeyoung, watching over her shoulder. "Tilt your head more, Chae. You're losing the angle."
Chaeyoung adjusts and takes you deeper, the glasses sliding down her nose. She pushes them back up with one finger without missing a beat.
Asa taps Ning's shoulder. "My turn." Ning pulls back and Asa takes her place, her technique immediately different. More controlled, more rhythmic. She sucks along the side of your shaft in long, measured strokes, her hand cupping your balls, rolling them gently. She remembers from the library how sensitive they are.
Shuhua waits patiently until Chaeyoung comes up for air, then leans in and takes over the tip. She's less hesitant than she was in the car. Something about tonight has unlocked her. She takes you halfway down without flinching, her throat relaxing around you, and holds there for a few seconds before pulling back with spit connecting her lips to your cock.
"Good girl, Shu," Yunjin murmurs approvingly, stroking Shuhua's hair back from her face.
"Don't patronize me," Shuhua replies, then immediately goes back down on you.
They rotate. Pairs and trios. Somi finally takes her turn, and true to form, she's rough about it. She grabs the base and sucks hard, her tongue doing something cruel and brilliant against the underside of the head. When she pulls off, she spits on your cock and strokes it with both hands, spreading the saliva, then passes you to Yunjin, who takes you to the root in one smooth motion. She holds you in her throat, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her long tongue extending to lap at your balls while you're still buried in her mouth. Asa watches with genuine admiration.
Yunjin pulls off with a wet gasp and grins. "Talent, baby."
Ning and Chaeyoung work you together next. Chaeyoung on the shaft, Ning sucking your balls into her mouth one at a time, humming against them. Then Shuhua and Asa, Shuhua taking the head while Asa licks the base. Then Somi alone, because Somi doesn't share well, her massive tits pressed against your thighs as she bobs her head with aggressive speed.
Your legs are trembling. The gummy bear you ate before coming to the mall is doing its job. You can feel the pressure building, heavy and dense, your balls tight and aching with the volume they're carrying. Every rotation of mouths pushes you closer. Six different techniques, six different temperatures, six different rhythms. It's sensory overload.
Yunjin can tell you're getting close. She reads your body, the way your stomach muscles tighten, the way your breathing goes shallow. "He's almost there," she announces. "Everyone get in position."
The six of them arrange themselves in a tight semicircle on their knees, faces upturned, close together. Chaeyoung in the center with your glasses still perched on her face. Yunjin and Somi flanking her. Asa, Ning, and Shuhua filling in the gaps. Twelve eyes looking up at you. Six open mouths.
You wrap your fist around your shaft and start stroking. Fast, tight, your hand slick with six girls' spit. "Cum for us," Yunjin says, her tongue extended. "Give your little pornstars everything you've got. I wanna be dripping."
"Cover my face," Ning adds, licking her lips. "I want to taste it again. Give me what you gave me in the car."
Somi tilts her chin up. "Don't you dare miss me."
Chaeyoung just looks at you through your own glasses, her mouth open, waiting. She doesn't need to say anything. The image alone almost sends you over.
"Paint us pretty," Asa says. "All of us. Don't leave anyone out."
Shuhua closes her eyes and tilts her face upward. "I'm ready."
You cum. And the gummy delivers. The first rope hits Chaeyoung across the bridge of your glasses, splattering the lenses, dripping down onto her nose and lips. She gasps and keeps her mouth open, catching the next spurt on her tongue. You angle toward Yunjin and she catches a thick streak across her forehead and cheek, letting it drip down to her chin. She moans, savoring it.
You move to Somi and land a heavy load across her lips and jaw, cum sliding down her neck onto her collarbones and the tops of her breasts. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. Just takes it.
Asa gets the next several spurts. Across her nose, her left cheek, her open mouth. She swallows what lands on her tongue and lets the rest sit on her skin. Ning leans in eagerly and catches a rope from her hairline all the way down to her chin, cum beading on her eyelashes. She licks it from the corner of her mouth and grins. Shuhua receives the final waves, thick streaks landing across her forehead and cheeks. She keeps her eyes closed through it, her lips parted, cum dripping from her jaw onto her bare chest.
And it keeps coming. The gummy turns what should be a normal orgasm into something absurd. You go back through the lineup, adding more to each face. A second coating on Chaeyoung's glasses, now completely opaque with cum. More on Yunjin's neck and tits. Another streak across Somi's parted lips. By the time you're finally spent, shaking, your hand still wrapped around your softening cock, all six of them are glazed. Thoroughly, comprehensively, disgustingly covered.
The store is silent for a moment.
Then Yunjin starts laughing. Then Ning. Then all of them. Chaeyoung takes the glasses off and holds them up, both lenses completely coated, and that sends everyone into hysterics.
"That was unreal," Asa says, wiping cum from her eyebrow. "Genuinely, medically, that shouldn't be possible."
"I told you guys, these gummy bears are straight-up magical. Holy shit,â Yunjin beams, cum dripping off her chin.
Somi examines the mess on her chest with raised eyebrows. "Okay. I take back what I said earlier. His cock is more than 'fine'."
Asa stands up first, grabbing her shirt from the floor. "Okay. This was incredible. But we need to get out of here before sunrise."
Shuhua freezes mid laugh. "How exactly are we getting out of here, by the way?"
Six girls exchange glances. A long, terrible silence.
Asa looks at Yunjin. "Please tell me you planned the exit."
Yunjin blinks. "My plan went as far as the orgy part. I figured we'd improvise after."
Somi turns to Shuhua slowly. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Please tell me you thought about this."
"The idea wasn't even mine!" Shuhua protests. "And if I were truly the smart one in this group, I wouldn't have come here at all. I was driven entirely by lust, which I am not proud of."
Chaeyoung wipes your glasses on the sheet and puts them back on. "I mean, to be fair, every single person here was driven by lust. Not one of us was thinking logically tonight."
Ning sits back on her heels and surveys the scene. Cum on their faces. A mattress stained beyond repair with squirt. A clearly vandalized store.
"This is fantastic. We're stuck in a mall with the evidence of multiple crimes on our bodies and on this three thousand dollar mattress."
Shuhua nods solemnly. "Yeah, we're done for. Roll credits. Little cartoon circle closing in around our faces and everything." She sighs. "'That's all, folks.'â
All six of them turn to look at you. Hopeful. Desperate, even. Ning clasps her hands together. "Please tell me you have an idea."
You look past them toward the back of the store. Storage area. Receiving dock. "The store's on the first floor. There's gotta be a back door for deliveries. Loading area that opens to the outside. And somewhere back there, a spare key or a push bar."
The relief on their faces is instantaneous. Shoulders dropping. Exhales all around. Yunjin throws her arms up. "See? No reason to panic. Everything was under control the entire time. I planned for this."
"You absolutely did not," Shuhua says flatly.
"Details. Minor details." Yunjin stretches her arms above her head and rolls her neck. Then she looks at you with that familiar, dangerous glint. "So. Who wants a second round?"
Chaeyoung sputters. "Now? Here? We literally just figured out how to escape."
"We have time! The back door isn't going anywhere. And neither is his dick." She gestures at you. "Look at him. He's already getting hard again."
She's not wrong. The gummy's still doing its job. Somi glances down, then looks back up at you. "You seriously got another round in you?â
You look at the six of them. Flushed, sweaty, ridiculously attractive. Still hanging around half delirious at two in the morning in a dark mattress store. Somehow this is reality now.
"For you guys," you say, "I think I can power through.â
Asa smirks. Somi rolls her eyes but she's already moving toward you. Yunjin claps once, saying, "Then it's settled. The night continues." She pushes you back onto the mattress and the rest of them follow, six bodies closing in around you, hands and mouths everywhere.
A/N: A quick fic because Anna Tanaka has me in a chokehold.
Tags: smut
Trigger Warning: Alcohol
Anna Tanaka x Male Reader
You press your back against the double hinged doors, pushing through whilst carrying a heavy crate of beer. You grunt in effort as you lift the crate onto the counter, releasing a sigh of relief as you step back, elbows perchiing on the sink behind.
âLooks like it wonât be as busy today, sunbae.â
You turn your head, and watch as she saunters her way to the crate with an exaggerated sway in her hips. She crouches down in front of you, her shirt riding up and exposing the small of her back. Your eyes drop before you can stop them, admiring the dimple. You look back up only when her head turns to you.
âPass me the beers.â
You push off the sink, and walk to the crate. You pull out one beer, and place it in her open hand. Again and again. The movement is almost mechanical. Your eyes stay trained on herâthe soft curve of her chest from above, and her thighs, all tense from crouching. You breathe sharply through your nose, your grip on the neck of a beer bottle a bit too tight. You want to put your mouth there. Between her legs. You donât even try to take it back.
After the last bottle, she rises to her feet so slow itâs almost performative. You know youâre staring, but you canât wrench your eyes away. She stands up tall next to you, fluttering her eyelashes, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.
Anna Tanaka is a shameless flirt. Has been since she first stepped foot into this small, decrepit place your boss calls a bar. Throughout orientation, her eyes stayed on you. Only you. And she made no effort to hide it, either. She even personally asked for you to train her.
Not that youâd object. One look at her and youâd have said yes to anything.
Both of you stare out to the rest of the place, watching the few patrons already here. Jackasses in office suits, nursing a couple beers that will later evolve into buying tequila shots or whiskey bottles. A lone man at the other end of the bar. Looks like heâs been crying. Not your problem as long as he pays and doesnât make a scene. Thereâs one person dancing to some shitty bar music you no longer care to remember the name of.
Itâs a wonder you havenât gone deaf yet with how terrible and loud it is.
âItâs rarely busy on a Wednesday night Tanaka. People who come into bars on a Wednesday are here for two reasons: one,â you lift your index finger. âThey fucked up so bad at work, they have to drown their sorrows. And two,â you lift another finger. âTheir home life is so shit, theyâd rather be anywhere else.â
She looks over to you. âSo what does that make us?â
You meet her eyes, holding her gaze far longer than necessary. âWeâre the exception. Weâre here to make money.â You flash her a toothy grin, one that she reciprocates.
You glance over her shoulder, and you see someone wave for service. You point with your eyes. She scoffs before making her way over, and you watch as she taps her fingers across the counter, the other hand coming up to her hair, shaking it loose.
You gulp unconsciously.
Her forearms press against the hard counter. Sheâs on her tiptoes, leaning closer to hear his order, and you canât help yourself. Your eyes travel from her long, toned legs to her ass. Her skirt is so short that it rides up, revealing its curve and the panties underneath.
Black. Lacy.
You grip the counter harder than you intended, standing there for a second, jaw tight, cock already half-hard, reminding yourself that youâre here to work.
Once your breathing is under control, your eyes travel up and meet hers.
Sheâs smiling that sultry smile that tells you this was all on purpose. Her eyes travel lower to your tight jeans, biting her lower lip before turning her attention back to the customer.
It started with mindless flirting. Sheâd tell you that you look good, and youâd say that pigtails suit her, like you havenât been thinking about them all shift or imagining wrapping them around your hands. And it evolved from there. Your hand lightly grazing against her lower back, her pressing up against you to light slaps on her ass and not so light gropes on your balls. You never complained.
A new customer pulls your attention to the edge of the bar.
âBehind.â
You try and squeeze past her except she arches her back and presses her ass against you and the sound that leaves you isnât professional or controlled or anything close. You feel yourself strain against your jeans.
She doesnât look back, but you see the way her thighs press together and you know sheâs just as affected.
She later joins you in making a drink and she has the audacity to press up against you. Her chest presses against your arm as she reaches for a whiskey glass. You feel the stares from behind, the daggers thrown at you by men who thought they had a chance with her.
You breathe out slowly, head tipping back.
âYouâre playing a dangerous game, Tanakaââ
âAnd youâre a willing participant sunbae.â Sheâs right, but youâre not going to answer her. âPass me the bottle.â
You grab it without looking, handing it over and ignoring the way her fingers linger on yours for a few seconds. You watch as she pours the content into a shaker, watch as her wrists snap back and forth, and you canât help but imagine itâs your cock in her hands. And that thought has your pulse thrumming in your ears, and your throat dry.
She leaves your side, moving to serve the customer, and already you miss her scent.
The alarm on your phone rings out. 6PM. You finish serving your customer before you walk behind her, one hand on her waist, mouth grazing against her ear, your breath washing over her. If the customer she just served had anything to say, he didnât, not when itâs clear sheâs enjoying you behind her, her eyes slightly rolling back, a shaky breath escaping.
â6PM. Evening rush.â You gently blow against her ear, your hand tightening on her waist. âWant a shot?â
She turns her head slightly to look at you, eyes travelling down to your lips. For a moment, you see it, the composure slipping. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, her cheeks flushing. Her breath is warm against your mouth, and you push yourself further into her.
âYâyeah.â
Your free hand reaches down, grabs two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila from under the counter. Your eyes stay on her as she turns her head, watching you pour two shots and making a mess of the counter. The hand on her waist travels up, slowly. Fingertips grazing her exposed midriff, between the valley of her breasts before planting themselves at the base her throat. She swallows hard, and you canât help the smile on your face. You put the bottle down, take a shot glass, and hold it to her mouth.
âOpen up.â
Her head tilts back, resting against your shoulder and youâre hit with her scent, surrounding you. Vanilla and sweat mixing together. Intoxicating and arousing. You harden at her feel and smell, your cock pressing firmly against her ass.
She canât help the moan escaping her, quiet like a whisper. Only you and the person she just served could hear her.
You tip the shot into her mouth. Watch as her face grimaces at the taste and burn, her throat working it down to her stomach.
âGood girl.â
A drop of tequila lingers on her bottom lip, threatening to make its way down her chin. You place the shot glass down on the counter hard, moving your thumb to swipe at the offending drop.
She watches, eyes half-lidded, as you press your thumb against her lips. They open without resistance, sucking with fervour.
You groan in her ear, loud and obnoxious. If she sucks your thumb like this, you canât imagine what sheâd do with your cock.
A squeaking barstool interrupts your little performance. The customer adjusts himself, the drink already gone.
âTake this,â you push your shot glass of tequila towards him. âOn the house.â
You turn to face her again, your lips coming down and pressing on her temple. Your voice is soft yet rough, your arousal seeping through despite your best efforts to cover it. âLetâs finish our shift early.â
She nods enthusiastically. Whines when you step away just as more customers enter the bar.
The next couple hours were hectic.
You go through through the motions. Taking orders, mixing drinks, and the occasional wave to the security guard to kick someone out. There are too many bodies. The room smells like sweat and a concoction of perfume that donât mix well. You watch people move to the dance floor, grinding all over each other as if they wonât have regrets come tomorrow morning.
The bass from the speakers vibrate throughout the bar, the music muffling the orders from the patrons. The floor and counter is sticky from spilled drinks, and other liquids you donât want to know about.
And through it all, Anna is the only one that makes working these shifts all worth it.
The two of you work in sync, moving around each other like itâs a practiced dance. Neither of you speak, already knowing what the other needs. Whenever you go high to reach something, sheâd go below you, occasionally brushing your cock with her arm. She doesnât look back at you as you shoot a glare in faux annoyance, stuck standing in that awkward position until youâve calmed yourself down. 6 months of training, of teasing and being teasedâit adds up.
A patron flags you down. âI donât want you. I want her!â
Your expression turns cold. âIâm sorry sir, sheâs busy with a customer right now. You can wait but it could take a while.â You turn to her, watching as she makes eyes to some nervous university student, chin propped up in one hand, the other placing featherlight touches against the back of his hand. You smirk despite yourself, watch as he goes red in the face, stuttering incoherently. She smiles, eyes turning into crescents as if she was genuinely interested. He pulls out his wallet, slaps more bills down onto the counter as a tip.
You chuckle, turning back to the man. âOr you could get a drink now and enjoy the rest of your night.â
He grumbles his order, turning around to look for someone more willing as you move off to make his drink.
Itâs simple really. You deal with the sleazy, old men that come to leer at her, some of them donât even bother removing their wedding rings. And she takes care of the young, and shy interns or students who donât know what to say to someone as hot as her. You protect her from unwanted advances and she rakes in huge tips.
Simple. Effective.
Eventually, activity at the bar slows down. Besides the men eyeing her up, no one has come up for drinks in the last five minutes.
You lean against the wall, eyes darting from a group of girls making a nuisance of themselves on one of the tables to a man being overly aggressive with the DJ. The place is getting warmer, unbelievably so. Everything feels damp, your hands are clammy from doing nothing, and it feels like youâre breathing in sweat more than anything else.
âSunbaeâŠâ You turn to Anna, pushing through the doors, walking up and joining you against the wall. âYou were right. AC is down."
You suck air through your teeth. âOf course it is. What did the boss say?â
She leans against you, head resting on your shoulder. She takes one of your hands, intertwines her fingers through yours.
âNothing much. Canât do much about it now he said. Technicianâs coming in tomorrow.â
She keeps talking. You donât hear any of it though, eyes trained on the way her hand melds perfectly with yours, how your thumb instinctively rubs the back of her hand as if youâve been in a long term relationship.
Your eyes travel up her arms, glistening with sweat, rivulets finding their way down before falling on to the floor. Her crop top sticks to her like a second skin, the top of her breasts shining against the strobe lights. You watch her face, and how matted her hair is, sticking to her forehead, and you think you want to see her like this again. But in bed.
âSeriously?â
You swallow thickly. âWâwhat?â
She turns, properly facing you now. âTell me.â One leg moves between yours, a constant, pleasurable pressure on your cock that you canât help but release a rough moan. âTell me what youâre thinking about. It must be good if it has you like⊠this.â
You smirk devilishly. âAre you sure you can handle my fantasies?â
Your hand moves from your side, presses against her navel. Your thumb swipes against the smooth plane before you bring it to your mouth, tasting her.
Itâs tart. And addictive all at the same time.
Annaâs eyes grow wide, pupils swallowing the colour of her eyes. Her breathing becomes shallow and the flush on her cheeks from the heat in the air, darkens further in lust.
You lean down until your mouth brushes against her ear. You start whispering just as your hand on her stomach inches its way down.
âI want you so bad. Ever since you first joined. Your constant teasingâŠâ your hand dips underneath the hem of her skirt, â⊠made it so hard for me. How are you going to repay me?â
âIâIââ She doesnât finish.
You press down against her pubic bone, and the sound that escapes her is a revelation. Far better than whatever sound your mind concocted. Her eyelids become heavy and her breathing erratic against your face. Her lips are parted, and you stare at them for the longest time, trying your best not to kiss her right there.
Your hand travels lower against her panties. Soaked through. You leave your hand there, rhythmically tapping against her core in time with the beat of the music, and you watch as her composure slowly falls away.
Sheâs pushing herself onto your hand, grinding against you in such a way that itâs not obvious to those on the other side of the bar. The movement is light and miniscule, bouncing on her tiptoes for more friction.
You laugh in her ear, mocking. âIs that enough?â
Her eyes flutter shut, head falling and resting on your shoulder. Both her hands have a hold on your arm, keeping your hand right where it is.
Youâd be lying if you said you werenât affected by all this. The top of her hair right under your nose, the smell of her shampoo filling your lungs. Her chest touches yours, her erratic breathing pushing her tits into you. The soft mounds a sharp contrast to the stiff peaks of her nipples poking you. Whatâs affecting you the most though is the wetness coating your hand. Itâs soaking through the lace and itâs sticky and the fact youâre the root cause feeds your ego.
âHey, you two.â Her eyes snap open, body frozen against yours. You both turn towards the voice. Your co-workers come through the door, one on their phone, the other struggling to carry a new crate of beer. âYouâre on break. Takeââ
You donât hear the rest.
Anna forcefully pulls your hand out of her skirt, her grip tightening on your wrist so that itâs almost painful. She drags you through the doors, ignoring the puzzled look from the others. She doesnât stop, not until youâre in the storage closet, shutting and locking the door behind you.
Youâre already on your knees as she turns around. Your hands finding her waist, pushing her flat against the door.
You hear the sharp intake of breath, feel her thighs quiver as your breath washes over them. She looks down at you, her eyes screaming, begging you to follow through. You press a kiss on the inside of her thigh, and sheâs snapped, her head hitting the door with a heavy thud.
You take things slow. A soft kiss against her knee, a lick up her thigh followed by quiet suction, and eventually, your teeth grazing against her core. You repeat this on both legs. 10. 20 times. You donât know. But the painful strain in your pants and the way her fingers thread through your hair means sheâs done waiting.
âPlâplease sunbae⊠pleaseâŠâ
Her sentences are incoherent, too lost in the feel of you to properly say what she wants. But you know. And youâre excited to give it to her.
Your hands travel down from her waist, and climbs up underneath her skirt. Her skin feels hot against yours, and you suddenly remember all the times youâve touched her prior to this moment. Like when she used the shaker for the first time, her small hands encompassed by yours as you taught her your technique. Or when she brushed hair out of your eyes during that one shift, her fingers lingering against your temple longer than necessary.
Youâre not stupid. Her signals were obvious. And so were yours. Both of you were bound to fall off the edge at some point.
Your only regret is that youâre going to fuck her in the dirty storage closet of your workplace.
Your hands find what theyâre looking for. Her panties. You pull them off slowly, watching as it clings onto her lips before peeling off. You inhale her scent, breathing in deeply. Itâs intoxicating and it makes your head dizzy. Your tongue darts out your mouth, one long lick and you canât wait to taste more.
âOh⊠fuckâŠâ
You stay down, tasting every inch of her, focusing especially on her clit, sucking and flicking it with your tongue. Her arousal starts coating your mouth as you keep going despite the ache in your jaw and the lack of oxygen as she clenches her thighs around you.
Soon enough, her legs start to give out, back sliding down the door. Your hands quickly move, throwing one leg over your shoulder before making their way to her ass, holding her up as you continue eating her out.
Her moans are loud, unrestrained. Sheâs repeating the same word like a chant, slowly devolving into broken noise. They used to be measured, coming out every few seconds or so. Now itâs an endless stream of curses and your name spilling out of her mouth. If it werenât for the loud music at the bar, youâd surely be caught by now.
You canât see her, face covered by her skirt but all the signs are there. The way her walls flutter around your tongue as you push in. Her thighs shaking incessantly around your ears, and how her grinding has become more forceful. Sheâs lost all semblance of control, the dull ache from her grip in your hair turns into searing pain. Itâs like sheâs forgotten youâre a person; youâre a toy, your sole purpose being to help her reach her high.
âFuck⊠fuckâŠâ
Youâll gladly be a toy if it meant seeing her like this again.
You lap at her folds, tasting every inch of her like sheâs some delicacy no oneâs heard of. The pressure of your tongue is consistent, driving her crazy. Itâs enough to keep her on edge, just not enough to push her over it. The hand in her mouth leaves, and the music from the bar is replaced by her.
You move up, tongue darting over her clit with precision, circling it with the tip. Or you press it flat, feel her shake at the constant stimulation. You replace your tongue with your mouth, sucking on her clit gently. Her whimpers grow louder, pitched higher, and sheâs arching her back, pressing herself firmly into your mouth.
She goes quiet first, her body frozen. And then she breaks. Her whole body convulsing, thrashing hard enough that youâre losing your grip. Her mouth is open in a scream, and you feel her arousal coat your chin and stain your shirt.
Your mouth returns to her folds, lapping as much as you can while she whimpers, oversensitive. Her grip on your hair loosens, her arms like jelly as she tries to push you away.
You eventually relent, lowering her down to the floor, her leg falling limply from your shoulder. You remove yourself from under her skirt, and already you miss her smell and taste.
Itâs the first time youâre actually seeing what youâve done. Sheâs folded against the door, her exposed stomach glistening from exertion, chest heaving, an attempt to get as much oxygen into her lungs. Your eyes move to her mouth, lips parted, tongue partially out as she looks at you with glassy eyes. Her hair is matted against her forehead and her cheeks are flushed a deep crimson.
You crawl over her, hand moving behind her neck before you kiss her. Itâs messy and languid, her tongue gently caressing yours. She moans against your mouth, tasting herself on youâsweet yet tangyâand she wants more, kissing you with so much fervour, it catches you off guard.
âIâI taste so goodâŠâ
Only now you realise this is your first kiss with her. And itâs in the back of the bar, with her cum all over your mouth. You donât know what you expected your first kiss with her to be like but it certainly wasnât this.
You move your lips down as she tilts her head up, sucking hard against her skin. She moans, hand coming up and cradling your head against her as you leave a bruise. You swipe your tongue along the column of her throat, all the way up to the shell of her ear as you use your free hand to free yourself from your jeans.
Youâre harder than youâve ever been before, the head is swollen, red, and dripping precum in the small space between you.
You slowly get to your feet, one hand on your cock as you shuffle closer, the jeans around your ankles making it awkward and annoying. And Annaâs staring at it the whole time, her glazed eyes focusing, tongue wetting her lips as she swallows thickly.
Her head is still pressed against the door as you press the head of your cock against her lips, coating them with your precum. She opens without resistance, letting you push all the way until youâre at the back of her throat. She gags around your length before closing her lips around it, tongue flicking underneath the head. You rest a hand against the door, the other pulling her hair into a ponytail as you start slowly thrusting into her mouth.
The haze of her orgasm has made her pliant, more willing to your advances. If it were anyone else, you wouldnât consider fucking their face like you are with her. She just brings that side of you out.
âFuck⊠your mouth feels so good.â
You hear a muffled mewl at your praise, and she starts working harder, timing her head bob with your thrusts. She pays extra attention to your tip, circling her tongue around it and flicking at the slit. You watch the way her lips cling to your cock as you pull out, at the spit escaping from the corners of mouth, dripping slowly down her chin.
Her arms that were limp at her side, suddenly gain strength, and slowly makes their way from her toned, sweaty midriff to her crop top. She pulls on the neckline, releasing her breasts from their confines just as the spit falls, landing in the valley between. She pushes her tits together, coating them in spit, twisting and pulling at her nipples. She moans, and the vibrations along your length almost sent you over the edge.
You grab her head with both hands, forcing yourself further down her throat. Sheâs gagging at the intrusion, cloudy eyes that were staring up at you now squeezed shut with tears threatening to fall. Your pace turns brutal, the slap of your balls against her chin drowns her gagging and the patrons outside. Occasionally, her head bangs against the door. She doesnât complain though, hands moving to your ass, pushing you further in until her face is flush against your stomach. You keep her there, amazed at how well sheâs doing. How she swallows around you, massaging you, and how, despite your attempts to pull away, she traps you there, refusing to let you leave despite her tears mixing with her mascara down her cheeks.
You breathe heavily through your nose, the grip on her head loosening, replaced by gentle pats on her head. âGood girl.â
She swallows around you, tries to push you in deeper. As if your praise was the encouragement she needed to deepthroat you further. But eventually, she had to let you leave.
Your cock is slick with a mixture of her saliva and your precum. You look over at her, chest heaving, coughing every few seconds. You donât give her much rest though, already pushing back in, slower, gentler. Youâre not chasing the high, only the feel of her wet mouth around you.
The suction, the vibration of her moans all becomes too much. Your hips stutter, the rhythm of your thrusts breaking.
You pull out immediately, catching your breath, your hand resting on the door, keeping you up.
âWâwhy did you stop?â She looks up at you with wide eyes, the flush on her cheeks spreading down her neck to the top of her breasts. She tries reaching for your cock again, mouth almost over it before you press two fingers against her forehead, stopping her in her tracks.
You donât say anything. Instead, you reach your hand out to her, and you see how quick the decision was made in her eyes. She takes it without hesitation, allowing herself to be pulled up by you. Her hand is small in yours, dainty too. Like she doesnât belong in a place like this, making drinks and relying on tips to get through the months.
Her feet are still unsteady as she stands, her hand reaching out and landing on your chest as she steadies herself. Your free hand instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her flush to you.
You stare at her for the longest time, memorising her features. The tiny freckles along her nose, her deep, dark eyes that you could get lost in if you let yourself. Sheâs staring at you like she belongs to you, waiting for you to do something, and it tightens something in your chest. Your eyes start mapping her face and you see what youâve done to her. The mascara streaks down her cheeks, the smudged lipstick across her parted lips. Sheâs still panting, her breath washing over you.
You let go of her hand, placing it where your heart is. You caress her cheeks, wiping at the mascara before doing the same at her lips. You watch in silent surprise at the way her mouth automatically opens wider as your thumb brushes against it before entering. Her lips, red and swollen, wraps around it, sucking on it gently. Her cheeks hollow as she stares into your eyes with a sultry look.
Youâre breathless, eyes dilating at the scene, your cock hardening too, especially when her free hand reaches down, stroking you against her stomach, twisting at the head.
You close your eyes, your forehead finding hers as you let her continue sucking your thumb and stroking your cock. The sensation is wonderful. Her soft, lithe hand feels exquisite on you, the way she squeezes at the head or rapidly jerks you off at the base and it reminds you of when she uses the shaker.
âAnnaâŠâ
You slowly open your eyes, removing your thumb from her mouth. You place both your hands on her cheeks before closing the distance.
The kiss is different. Itâs not an act of passion or an in the moment kiss. Itâs one that highlights how much sheâs liked you in the time youâve known each other. All the emotions poured into it as if words arenât enough to tell you everything.
You just hope you were able to show how much you care for her through yours.
You begin to move, stepping out of your jeans, hands still on her face, and your lips still attached as you drag her further into the closet until her back is pressed against the shelves. A groan escapes her as her back softly slams against it before she finds your mouth again. The spare pint glasses on the shelves start shaking as you push her further into it.
You both separate, foreheads touching as you both breath heavily in the space between. Both your eyes fall to your cock, twitching against her folds, leaking precum, and the pair of you moan at the sight. You hold it by the base, sliding it along her folds, and she pants against you, her head falling onto your shoulder, biting you gently to muffle the sounds spilling from her mouth.
âSâsunbaeâŠâ
You donât wait any longer. You continue rubbing yourself on her as your other hand finds the back of one of her thighs. You lift it high. Until her foot is beside your head, and her leg is sandwiched between your bodies.
âFâfuckâŠâ
You push inside, groaning at the overwhelming heat and tightness. Her orgasm has left her wet and dripping, making it easier to slide in further. Anna exhales shakily against your mouth, her breathing uneven. Her hands find your shoulders, nails digging deeper the further in you go. When you finally bottom out, your pelvis pressed flush against hers, do you release a breath you didnât know you were holding, and you watch as her eyes flutter close, head falling backwards, knocking a few tumblers down.
You stay like this, enjoying the feel around you, the way her walls flutter along your length. You look down at where you join, and her name comes out your mouth subconsciously.
âAnna⊠look.â
And she does. Watches as you start grinding. Sheâs moaning softly, and her eyes start dilating. The hands on your shoulders move down to your chest, weakly pushing at you. âMove.â
You start slowly, pulling all the way until your tip before slamming all the way in. Your thrusts are heavy and hard. She takes your whole length with every stroke, and every time you bottom out, a whimper spills from her mouth, broken and desperate. Her back arches against the shelves, and the way she clenches around you as you pull outâlike sheâs trying to stop you from leavingâis overwhelming.
âYâyouâre so deepâŠâ
Her eyes roll back at a particular hard thrust, jostling her against the shelves. More glasses tip over but you donât care anymore. Your entire focus is on her.
You fuck her faster, harder. Her walls start fluttering around you with no rhythm, trying to milk you. She breathlessly repeats your name, eyes closing in pleasure, hands grabbing the uprights. The slap of skin on skin, and your panting, drowns everything out, even your ringing phone.
You see everything. The way she bites her lip in a futile attempt to stay quiet, her tits bouncing with every hard thrust. You look down, and you can see where you connect, how she has a tight grip on you, how she stretches around your girth. Every time you pull back, more of her arousal escapes, running down the one leg sheâs standing on.
âShit⊠donât stopâpleaseâŠâ
The leg on your shoulder starts shaking violently. Your hand moves, gently grabbing the ankle, thumb soothingly caressing it while you plant soft kisses against her calf. The smooth skin feels wonderful against your lips, and you imagine how great it would be to have them tangled with yours in bed.
âMâmoreâŠâ
Your other hand grabs her breast, kneading the flesh, her nipple poking through your fingers. You hold on as your pace increases, your hips snapping against hers. Youâre breathing heavily, eyes travelling to her face where her eyes are closed, tears spilling.
Her walls clench around you erratically, her moans growing louder, becoming more high pitched, more desperate. âIâIâm gonna câcumâŠâ Your thumb and index fingers find her nipple. You pinch and pull and thatâs all it takes.
Her orgasm hits her hard, back arching high, a scream tearing from her throat. Itâs so loud, you had to cover her mouth. Her pussy strangles your cock, gushing around you, and you feel wetness on your thighs.
You keep your pace steady, ignoring her oversensitive gasps. Her hand claw at your shoulder, and she tries to remove her leg. You hug her leg, keeping it on your shoulder as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm, her tears flowing freely now.
Her flushed cheeks, parted mouth, and her glazed over eyes. Sheâs so distractingly beautiful like this that you temporarily lose your rhythm.
You feel your balls tighten, pleasure coiling at your spine, and the fact that she whispers your nameâall broken, desperate, and roughâsends you over the edge.
You slam into her one final time, burying yourself deep. And you cum. The orgasm is blinding, your vision blurring as the pleasure rips through you and you empty yourself inside her, filling her with rope after rope of cum. She moans brokenly as she milks you for everything you have and more.
For a few seconds, nothing exists except the two of you. Your heavy breathing mingles in the space between you. Her slick skin presses against you, and you wish you could stay like this forever. But reality comes backâAnnaâs chest moving up and down quickly, the mess between her legs, and your legs start shaking too.
You pull out slowly, and she whimpers at your loss. You slowly lower her leg onto the floor, catching her as she falls forward. You gently bring her down to a sitting position, back against the shelves as you take a seat opposite. Your cum starts leaking out of her, mixing with her arousal, staining the floor underneath.
She starts laughing breathlessly, her foot tapping against your thigh as she looks at you with what can only be described as adoration in her eyes. âMy legs are numb.â
You chuckle under your breath. âSorry. Guess I got a bit carried away.â
Her hand moves to her hair, ruffling it slightly before it makes its way between her legs, scooping up your cum with two fingers. You watch as she plays with it. âDonât be. That was the best sex Iâve ever had.â She puts her fingers in her mouth, cleaning them before pulling it out with a loud pop, showing you the evidence.
âYouâre going to be the death of me Tanaka.â
She moves, crawling towards you with an exaggerated sway of her hips and a predatory grin on her lips. She settles on your lap, fingers gently grazing your cock back to full mast. She leans toward you, until her lips are inches from yours.
"Hey baby bear, want to watch a movie tonight?" You hug Seulgi, but she quickly breaks herself out of it.
"A-Ah, I have to go workout, don't wait up."
"Again? You just went in the afternoon!"
"Yeah uh, I ate a lot for dinner, so I'll go do another session." She darts into the bedroom to change.
"Don't push yourself so hard, this was supposed to be a vacation!" Aaaand she's out the door, great. What is supposed to be a relaxing resort stay with Seulgi has definitely turned frosty. She was happy the first night, but she's been distant ever since, avoiding you and hiding herself at the resort gym, and you have no idea what or if you did anything wrong. You have two more days to figure out what's wrong before you're back in Seoul and returning to normality.
"Miss Kang, so good to see you back so soon!" The quizzical receptionist greets Seulgi at the gym entrance.
"Ah hi yes, I'm just here for a little extra workout."
"I do have to mention that we're closing for the night soon, but you're free to use the facilities until then."
"I won't be long, thank you!" Seulgi goes to a bench and begins her workout of crunches and hip raises to expend her energyâshe pushes herself for a while before the receptionist has to call it quits for her.
"Euahhh! Thanks, I'll be out of your hair shortly!" Seulgi's body is burning with soreness. She sighs on the benchâthere's a reason she's pushing herself so hard, trying to wear herself out before she goes back. Her hand drifts to her flat tummy, the focus of her workouts, the source of admiration from fans and fellow idols alike, but also the source of her current frustrations.
It's too flat!
Her hand drifts further down, and Seulgi has to catch herself before any cameras catch herâshe so dearly wants her belly to be round, but only from a very specific reason: Bread.
Specifically bread of the procreation variety, the kind that takes nine months to ferment. Seulgi's so down bad that when she was in child's pose earlier all she can think about is being plowed and sown and having one of her own, praying that her wetness isn't soaking through her workout tights. And whose bread she would like to grow? Why he's back in the suite, probably unpacking and getting things all comfortable for her.
She sighs and heads back to the room from the gym for a second time, and this time things get unbearable.
"Hey, come here, let's talk." Seulgi is surprised by your bear hug, strong arms wrapping around her possessively.
"H-Huh, wait, let me go!"
"No, what's going on, you've been distant this whole trip. Did something happen?" Seulgi can hear the pout, and it just makes her feel guiltierâhere you are concerned and worried, when all Seulgi can think about is getting you naked and underneath her.
"L-Let go, I'm so sweaty!" She struggles, and her latent arousal grows as you continue to "restrain" her with your arms. She's dragged to the love seat and sat in your lap, but she jumps off you as soon as she can. "I'm sorry, it's not you, it's me!"
"What?" Her words sink in and you jump to your feet "A-Are we breaking up? Oh godâ"
"No no no we're not!" She grabs your hands and kisses you. "If anything, I think I like you too much."
"Then tell me what's going on."
"I, I know we talked about it, I just really want your baby."
"Yeah, but we agreed on being careful before we get married." You remind her gently.
"I know I'm sorry I justâ You know I get umm..."
"Horny? Clingy?" you soften your words for Seulgi.
"Let's go with clingy. It happens when that part of my cycle comes around. It just hit especially hard this time..." Seulgi's blabbering now, the words rushing out of her. "And of course it happens when we're on vacation and it's even harder to avoid you, because I actually don't want to avoid you. Every night I see you come out of the shower I just want to jump you with no protection and let things happen. But that's not fair to you and I can't expect you to be the reasonable one and stop me every time so I try to workout extra hard and tire myself out so I won't have the energy to do that and Iâ Ahh I'm not making much sense am I?" Seulgi's a bit of a messâshe's definitely horny (you've sat back down and Seulgi naturally got in your lap, and she's been grinding and squirming subtly on you the whole time), but she's also conflicted, half kissing and half sniffling against your neck.
"No no, you made some sense. But we should get married first right?" That has always been a sore point of contention, despite the agreementâthe two of you were married in all but name, except it wouldn't do to have a wedding just yet, not while Seulgi's an active idol.
"Yeah I know, I knowâ" You hold a hand up to shush her.
"This will sound crazy, and I'll do it again in the future, however you want me to do it, but for now: Kang Seulgi, will you marry me so I can knock you up?" The proposal was ridiculous, outrageous, absurd, infinitely more horny than romantic, both of you completely unprepared and poorly dressed for the moment.
But it was perfect.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Seulgi's tongue is in your mouth immediately, a giddy giggle escaping her as your tongue pushes against hers. "How is this going to work?"
"We're going to register our marriage, as soon as possible. But your word is good enough for me, so this is now our honeymoon." The implication of what happens on a honeymoon doesn't so much as hang in the air as it does dangle in front of the two of you like a delicious baguette.
"O-Our wedding would still be a shotgun wedding then." It's a bygone conclusion in Seulgi's head that she's going to be bred before then, and she gets even wetter.
"Technically it's won't be a shotgun wedding, because there the guy marries the girl because she got pregnant."
"And it's different for us because...?"
"I'm marrying you to get you pregnant. But your career wouldâ"
"Shh deal with that later, that's the most romantic thing you've said to me." Seulgi's kisses you again lovingly, and for a moment she's happy to settle for an intimate moment, butâ
"There's just one slight problem, you forgot to account for one thing." Seulgi looks at you a little confused, and you watch her pupils dilate in real time as she feels your hardness now pressed against her. "Me." Your hands drift to her waist, and you're pulling her even closer to you.
"How do you think I feel, seeing you come back home wearing your tight workout clothes all sweaty every night?" You lean in, disregarding Seulgi's sweat and kissing along her collarbone. "I don't have a cycle, so I always want to knock you up."
"Ahh!" Seulgi gasps as you slide fingers across her exposed waist. She's paralyzed by arousal, making itself very apparent between her legs and across her chest. She has been so caught up in managing her own desires, she didn't think about the effect she had on you.
"And if you're extra tired, that just makes things harder for me." Your whispered words flow into her ear, to her brain, and then straight down her spine to her horny core. "What's stopping me from holding you down and doing whatever I want to you right now?"
"Y-You would, now?" It suddenly hits Seulgi fast that she might get the very thing she wants the most in the world right now, right away.
"Right in this chair if you can get us naked without having to leave it." Your words whip Seulgi into action, and she's tugging at your t-shirt, pulling it off you. You help her out of her top the way a truant helps the class president on a group projectâlooking on at her all dopey as she does her thing. Seulgi takes charge, pushing your shorts down as much as she can, and then she's stuck.
"Fuck Iâ" She tugs on her own tights, but said tights are far too taut around Seulgi's tight toned thighs. She plants her feet on the chair, trying to stand up, wobbling but staying in it best she can, and it is far too dangerous.
"Seul!" She doesn't listen, and you have to forcefully bring her down. With two hands on her hips you tear the durable fabric apart, giving Seulgi enough purchase to properly spread her legs. "This is good enough." A pull of her plain black panties aside and you're sliding into her.
"Yes!" Seulgi whimpers, and you have to hold her still to gather yourselfâyou haven't seen Seulgi quite this needy ever.
"Just wait a moment, I'm not going anywhere! What were you thinking, trying to stand on the chair, it's dangerous!"
"I wasn't thinking, and you shouldn't be either." You swallow a moan as Seulgi squeezes herself around you deliberately. "Do you feel it?" She squeezes you again.
"Fuck Seulgi yes." Your hands drift to her midriff, trying to hold her still, but it is a futile effort as her pussy contracts around you yet again.
"That's how much I want it right now, it's all I can think about. If you want it as bad as you say you do, stop thinking until you've pumped this flat belly full and round." You don't have it in you to fight Seulgi, and as soon as your grip on her relaxes, her grip on you tightens, shamelessly grinding back and forth in your lap. Her teeth nip into your earlobe as she whimpers filthy nothings into your ear, thanking and begging you for the cum you're going to pour into her.
"M-More oppa, I need more!" Breeding Seulgi is a two-person job, so with a gratifying clap you grab her ass and begin shoving her up and down your cock. The love seat scrapes against the floor as Seulgi emphatically joins in, planting her knees and bouncing herself on your cock crazy please-knock-me-up style. There's no time to admire the way her midriff moves, or her entire body rolling to take your cock deep, or her little mewls into your neckâSeulgi's doing all of this to yank your cum out of you, playing tug-of-cock in your lap.
"Giveittome pleasepleaseplease!" The words come out in a rush as Seulgi peaks, and if you thought she was squeezing you earlier, it is nothing compared to the way her pussy tries to pull your cock deeper into her, and you lose the tug-of-cock all too willingly. You hold Seulgi down on your spewing shaft, splattering her walls with thick seed as she stays rooted in your lap, and the first round of planting your seed in Seulgi reaches a satisfactory end.
"It feels so warm, you're so warm in me..."
"You're so hot around me too." You're still half-hard, and you can feel Seulgi still squeezing you. "You'll need to wait a bit for round two."
"We have the whole day tomorrow, this is enough to satisfy me for now. Ooh, somebody liked that!" Seulgi feels the twitch inside her when she says the words "for now". You look around, but one key thing is out of reachâtissues!
"Wait, don't stain the couch!" You scooch the two of you forward a little to let anything drip on to the floor, but Seulgi has an easier solution. She lifts her hips slightly and quickly slips her panties back into position. The resulting view is arguably more satisfyingâinstead of your load dripping out of Seulgi, you watch her black panties get stained white, the blanc spot spreading across the noir fabric, visual representation of what's happening inside of her as well.
"I should've worn something looser." Seulgi gets off you, slightly struggling to peel off the torn tights.
"I'll get you a new pair, sorry."
"No I have plenty, it's not a problem." Seulgi follows your gazeâyou're still looking between her legs, at her panties keeping your load in her. "What is it?"
"Isn't it going to stain?"
"I can always buy more, I'd rather keep it from leaking."
"You can always get more of that too." You hug her, waddling the two of you towards the bathroom. "Maybe give you a little more in the shower?"
"Not tonight, sorry, I want to prepare for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"
"Nothing, just a bit of self-care, do you want to shower first? I'll be in there for a while." You let Seulgi go first, and she takes so long she has to shake you awake. She's also clearly tuckered out, for by the time you're done showering she's already tucked under the sheets.
"Sleeping?"
"I was waiting for you." She pulls your arm across her body, letting you settle on her midriff, hand over her tummy intentionally. "Thanks oppa."
"I want what you want, I love you."
"Love you too, good night."
You wake up late next morning, and Seulgi's nowhere to be found again. You quickly fire off a text to her, and she tells you to come to the pool. You throw on some clothes and quickly realize you shouldn't have bothered.
"Hey dear." Seulgi's lounging by the pool, wearing a strapless bikini top, a blue floral dress, and a gorgeously ruinable midriff. She puts her book down and gets up, sauntering over and leaning against the window, posing for you like she's done countless times for photoshoots. "Is that your morning wood, or are you just happy to see me?"
"Yes, both, is this what you were preparing?"
"Perhaps, why don't you undress me and find out?" Except this isn't a photoshoot, this is Seulgi dolled up and offering herself to you; she loosens her dress, revealing the matching navy bikini bottoms she has on. You hold her by the hips, pressing her against the cold glass surface and kissing her.
"God you're amazâ"
"Ah ah ah, save it for when we're naked." You quickly strip, but Seulgi's still waiting for you to do the honors. Off goes her top, but when you pull off Seulgi's bottoms you're too stunned to speakâSeulgi's completely bare down there, pink lips blushing amongst pale skin. You had grown used to Seulgi keeping things neat, so seeing her completely "naked" was unexpected, to say the least. "S-Stop staring and say something."
"You're amazing." You immediately run a hand down her body, feeling her unexplored skin and delving a finger past her lips. "Is this what you were preparing last night?"
"Yeah, Iâ Mmm right there! I wanted to watch us clearly, to see you going in." Both of you are glued between your legs as your morning wood slips into Seulgi's morning warmth, and the sight of your tip pushing apart Seulgi's rosy lips threatens to split your brain in two. She's similarly out of it, eyes blank and unfocused at your shaft sliding into her. "Fuck, p-pull out, I want to see it again."
You've had Seulgi multiple times, and it's not like she's been blindfolded when it happens (not always, anyways), but this is the first time she's asking to watch you plunge into her. You lift her hips, giving her an angle she can look down at, and you pull out, making sure she can see your base and balls heavy with baby batter. You shove yourself back in, and Seulgi throws her head back hard enough your hear her thud against the glass.
"Oh fuck, are you okay?"
"Don't stop, fuck..." Seulgi doesn't even notice her own bump, instead imagining the bulge between her legs and the bump you're going to give her in a couple months. She draws you in, and with her legs wrapping around you you have to pin her to the glass, your tip pressed against her cervix. "Oh yes, right there!" Her fingers dig into your hair, twisting and pulling you to face her. "You have to cum right there, I want to feel it!"
Seulgi's possessed, frenzied, and she's dragging you down with her. The pool is a small private one for the suite, but what you're doing with Seulgi quickly becomes public knowledge as you start hammering her against the glass, making her whispers and whimpers turn into yelps and cries of pleasure. She wriggles her hips every time you hilt inside her, as if willing you deeper, wanting to feel you press against her womb. Her eyes drift, inching to roll back in her head, but she closes them tightly and knits her brows, as if trying to keep her sanity.
"Fuck I can't oppa, I can't! I'm going to cum!"
"Then do it!"
"Nngh no! I want to feel you cum, need to know you're cumming in me."
"Baby bear, if you're going to look like this, there's no way I'm not filling your tight little belly up." Just the promise of you filling her up has Seulgi clenching around you. "So just let go and cum, or I'll make you." You start slamming up into her, and her expression disintegrates, eyelids drooping and lips lightly parted as she grunts and takes your brutal babymaking thrusts. She gurgles, and sharp nails dig into the back of your neck as she starts to cum. Her legs go weak, no longer staying wrapped around your hips, but you don't stop, pushing through her contracting warmth, as if to sayâ
You're not milking me for my cum, I'm pumping you full of it!
With a growl you push up and into Seulgi, making her leave her feet, and she's effectively impaled on your cock as you burst, thick potent cum surging into her, turning her womb into an infinity poolâfilled to the brim and overflowing off the edges. Her eyes are blank, staring past you into the sky, wholly focused on your warm load being pumped into her, toes curling uselessly in the air. The flow into Seulgi seems to not slow down, and she so dearly wants to put a hand on her tummy, to see if you're bulging her with cum, because fuck Seulgi's starting to feel heavy.
When her feet touches the floor again she almost slips, partly because her strength has left her completely, and partly because she's stepped in a puddle of your cum, evidence of just how much you put in herâyou've leaked so much out of her and she still feels full! She fidgets her toes, your cum thick and sticky between them, no doubt thick and sticky inside her as well, and a cum-lust takes over Seulgi.
"You okay Seul?" She's slumped to the floor, kneeling in the puddle of slick and cum without a care.
"Yeah I just need moâ Need to clean you up." She takes you in her mouth, servicing you all over, cleaning your shaft and your balls with sloppy drool and slurpy tongue. Seulgi takes her time with it, and if you didn't know any better, she was trying to get you hard for another round. When you're hard and poking into her cheek she releases you, and for a moment you thought you might be wrong, as she stands up and walks away, going to pick up her discarded clothing. Yet oh so slowly she bends over, picking up her bikini with the same deliberate slowness she cleaned your cock with, and you recognize it for what it is.
A fucking invitation, in every sense of those two words.
Seulgi keeps still as your hands grab her hips, and she's quickly rewarded with your tip pushing past her still-creamy lips. Her legs go weak again, and you follow her down to the floor, rutting into her doggy-style. Seulgi's a little embarrassed at just how brazenly she's asking for it, but it's clearly working for both of you as you reach over to paw at her chest, having your way with her as she whines and moans. It's almost hypnotic the way her thighs and and ass jiggle as you pound into herâthis is Seulgi at her juiciest and most delectable, and a low rumble escapes you as you get close. She reaches back to grab your thigh, but she need not have worried, and a few thrusts later you're emptying yourself into her. Seulgi triggers her own orgasm too, rubbing her clit to make sure she drains you thoroughly. This time she stays there, letting gravity help her keep your seed in her.
"You really want this huh, last night was not just a moment of craziness?" You're sitting down next to her, watching her in the ridiculous yet lewd pose of her ass still perched in the air as she rests on the floor. That makes Seulgi sit up.
"Did you think I wasn't serious yesterday? Was everything you said yesterday just... Playing along?"
"N-No! I do want to marry you, but I wasn't sure if you wanted everything else to happen so quickly, this weekend." Seulgi's in your lap again, just like last night.
"I do, I want us to start a family as soon as possible." Seulgi snakes her arms around you, hugging you tightly. She sits her hips down on yours, making sure you feel your spend oozing out of her. "I remember everything you said last night, I'm treating this as our honeymoon, so as long as it ends in you finishing in me, you can do anything you want, have me anytime you want."
"As much as I want to, we need to take a break at least for lunch." You can't believe it, but Seulgi's pouting that you can't fill her up again right away. "I'm as serious as you are, so I'm here if you need me for anything. Don't!" you warn her immediately, knowing the next words out of her mouth would be her needing you to knock her up. Reluctantly she stands up and finally leaves your lap, and she disappears into the bathroom to clean up and be presentable for lunch in the resort.
You could not have forseen how lunch would become a complete mess, or rather, how you became a complete mess, because Seulgi was downright irresistible. She dressed plainly, a sundress befitting the warm climes, but the only thing plainer than her outfit were her intentions.
"Seulgi, see anything you like?"
"Oh, whatever you want. Whenever you want. I like everything I see, it all looks so delicious!" Instead of the menu she's staring right at you, bedroom eyes fluttering for all to see. Any hot-blooded male would have wondered if you were mad, not skipping lunch and just taking Seulgi back to the room for a thorough pounding before coming back out to eat. You jump when you feel a stray foot touch your leg, running it up and down your limb.
"Hello and welcome, may I take your order?"
"Yes, I'll have the carbonara pasta." You answer, ignoring Seulgi's foot dancing up to your knee.
"Very good sir, and for you miss?"
"Mmm nice and thick. I amâ I mean, I'll have, what he's having." Seulgi doesn't even take her eyes off you, barely sparing the waitress an iota of attention.
"I'll make that two then."
"Oh I hope so too."
Seulgi wants twins?!
The knowledge that Seulgi wants you to breed her is fucking you up so hard, everything sounds wrong and lewd and filled with innuendo, just like Seulgi is filled withâ no you have to stop!
"What are you thinking about oppa?" Seulgi knows, she fucking knows the effect she's having on you. "Was there something else you wanted to eat?" Like me?
"No, was just thinking about dessert." Even that sounds lewd coming out of your mouth.
"We can have that back in the room." You can have me back in the room.
"Y-Yeah, sounds good." Seulgi simply stays quiet, tapping at her phone, and you quickly bury your gaze in your phone too. Soon you feel her foot being naughty again, and you see Seulgi with her head resting on her hands, leaning forward and looking at you intently. "What is it?"
"Hmm? Nothing." She picks up her phone again, and this time your phone buzzes.
*Just waiting for us to finish lunch, so you can go back to knocking me up*
You look up from the message, and Seulgi's just looking at you again, as if she hasn't just sent one of the most depraved messages you've seen from her.
"Do you want to just get it to go?"
"No, we should just eat since we're here already." The pasta arrives, and Seulgi manages to clumsily knock a fork off the table. "Sorry."
"I'll get you a new one Miss."
"It's okay, five second rule."
"Please, I insist."
"Thank you!" Seulgi hands the fork to the waitress, but she doesn't get up from under the table. You're halfway into your first bite when you feel Seulgi's hand creep up your thigh, reaching through your shorts and boxers to get to you. You feel your own legs get pushed open as Seulgi settles in between them, quickly stroking you to full hardness right in the restaurant. Oh fuck, how large is the tablecloth, or is everyone just watching Seulgi give you a handjob under the table? You don't get another moment to think though, as Seulgi gets far more daring, pushing your shorts up your thigh and nestling her cheek right against the bare skin. Surely notâ She starts sucking.
Kang Seulgi is giving you a blowjob in the middle of the restaurant.Â
You try to close your legs, to squeeze Seulgi out from under there, but she keeps you spread. You can hear the soft suckling noises she makes, her lips enveloping your tip and tongue swirling around it, and you just pray that you're the only one that can hear it.
"And here's the fork."
"Fuck... I mean fork, t-thank you, thank you for the fork! She went to the bathroom, she's not anywhere else!"
"I see..." Oh god, does she see? Is Seulgi's feet poking out from underneath or something? The waitress walks away without another word. Seulgi gets back to eating you, and you're dangerously close to popping.
"Seulgi!" You hurriedly tap her with your knee, but it is of no use. The audible gulp of Seulgi going deep on your cock is enough to send you soaring, and the fork in your hand is trembling as you unload down her throat, feeding her thick and creamy pastaless carbonara. The fork hits the table with a thud as Seulgi finally retreats, surfacing back in her seat, tongue swiping the last of your cum from her lips. "What the hell was that?" Seulgi beckons you closer to hear her whisper.
"I couldn't wait for us to finish lunch to have you fill me up. It was either that or I ride you in the restaurant, so I settled for you in my mouth." You're left speechless as she starts on her plate of pasta. Kang Seulgi settled for giving you a blowjob in the middle of the restaurant. "Hurry up and start eating!"
You somehow manage to finish your lunch without further distractions from Seulgi, and with her half-eaten lunch packed in a container ("I had plenty right before," she said happily to the waitress) you find yourself back in the room with a fidgety Seulgi.
"So, dessert?" she asks, already slipping out of her sundress.
"I'd say yes except you kinda just reset the cooldown on things in the restaurant."
"And is there no way I can help with that?" She plays with her underwear.
"Just a little time, please."
"Okay, take your time, I'll just be in the bedroom warming up."
"Warming up?"
"Exercise, stretching, fertility rituals and home remedies, the usual." You're staring and silent as Seulgi saunters into the bedroom, leaving her sundress pooled on the floor in front of you.
You sigh as you sit on the couch, only for your phone to immediately start buzzing.
*I lied, I'm not really warming up*
*I'm touching myself thinking about what we'll do as soon as you're ready*
*my fingers don't stretch me half as well as you do*
*is it helping? I hope it is*
You had a sexting phase with Seulgi, back when she was traveling for her world tour, and her baby fever seems to have pushed things up a notch as she continues.
*I thought about getting some local remedies you know? But I know you wouldn't approve*
*you're right* you tap out.
*shouldn't you reward me for that, I know just how you can do it*
*anyways so I got some home remedies from Korea, my parents said it worked for their friends and they all have grandchildren now!*
*oh I shouldn't be talking about our parents should I? Not very sexy*
*let's just say I took it this morning before you woke up, gave me a morning lake for your morning wood, and I took it before lunch too*
That explains the under-the-table action you got from her, it's from all the under-the-counter home remedies she's taking!
*are you ready yet? I'm trying so hard to not come out and ride you so please don't make me wait too long*
*what are you wearing?* You rise from the couch.
*just my underwear, should I take it off now?*
*you choose*
You get up and cross the suite to the bedroom, finding Seulgi tucked underneath the covers.
"Thought we could do something a little more playful."
"And because you wanted to leave me guessing." Seulgi beckons you over with a finger.
"So come over and find out." You strip off your clothes and slip under the covers, only to find out that you're at the wrong level of undress. The duration of one kiss is all it takes to rectify that mismatch, and with a hand on her hip you're able to spoon your fork-dropping woman, sliding into her with ease.
"You're so damn wet bear."
"The home remedy works." There's no rush, and it's so easy to thrust slowly into Seulgi's drenched heat.
"So, got it from your parents huh, or should I start calling them mom and dad too?"
"Oh god stop! We are not talking about them now." Seulgi reaches for your hips, urging you to go faster.
"I'm surprised they're okay with it, given that you know, we're not married yet."
"They understand, ah! Given my line of work. You've met them already, they like you, they're not going to complain if I want to hurry the timeline a little." Her legs tangle with yours, squeezing you as you hit deep in her.
"Did you get me any home remedies? If you're going to pull a stunt like the restaurant again I might need a little help."
"Oh, I thought you would get some from your parents, maybe our parents could share recipesâ"
"Okay, we are not talking about my parents right now."
"Then shut up and fuck me, you won't need any help, it was so thick and salty in my mouth."
"The pasta right? Yeah it wasn't the best."
"Only if you want to give me a food baby. Was talking about what's stored here," Seulgi grabs you between the legs playfully. "So thick and sticky, I'm sure you can give me a proper baby." She groans as you thrust again, and this time her hand around your neck is a little more urgent. "Less talking, need to feel you put a load in me, and then again afterwards. Fuck me roughly, fuck me gently, I don't care just fuck your wife!" You do as she asks, pushing Seulgi on her front and rolling yourself on top of her.
You press your chest to her back, hugging her tightly as your hips churn into her relentlessly. Seulgi moans and tightens around you, spreading her legs to give you maximum access. Her legs kick up uselessly as she wails and cums, and you bask in the knowledge that only you can make her feel like that. Knowledge is definitely a powerful drug, and knowing that Seulgi didn't hesistate to tell her parents of all people that she's trying to get bred is kicking in, making you drive your hips that much harder into her. You feel imperious: Seulgi's your wife, and you are going to mate her.
Mate.
You roll Seulgi on her back and spread her wide, making her yelp in surprise as you plunge back deep into her. She lets out a shrill cry as you pound right at her wombâif any round was going to knock her up, this would be the one to do it!
"My wife, mine!" you rasp, hooking her legs and bending them back to get better access. You're half squatting now, the bed helping you bounce a little and really pound Seulgi into the bed.
"Yessss yes yes yes!" You're leaning over her, putting all of your weight on Seulgi's hips. She's going to be sore, but she can take it, she has the strength and flexibility to take youâSeulgi's trained to be an idol after all.
Trained to be bred.
You groan and explode with a triumphant shout, plunging down into Seulgi and staying there. She cums with you, and watching her beautiful face dissolve into sheer ugly orgasmic pleasure you feel a rush similar to the seed that's rushing into Seulgi's womb at the same timeâomnipotence, only you get to see her like this!
"I love you, I love you so much, I'm so happy..." she's babbling, hugging you with what strength she has left.
"I love you too Seulbear." You stop pressing into her and back off, giving Seulgi a little room to breathe, but all she wants to do is cling to you, legs trying feebly to wrap around you. You settle for lying halfway on top of her, letting her feel your presence still on top of her, but not suffocatingly so.
"It's going to happen isn't it? You were so deep." she asks.
"I hope so, did it hurt?"
"A little, but then I felt you and itâ It was so hot, like you were everywhere in me. It felt so good." Seulgi's glowing, a sheen of sweat on her forehead somehow making her look even better. You kiss her lovingly, and Seulgi's surprisingly aggressive, sucking on your lower lip, tongue reaching out to tangle with yours.
"I want to do it again." She tries to push herself up, but can barely lift her off the bed. "In a little bit."
The two of you settle for ordering room service and never leaving the room for another meal again. Seulgi's nickname may be bear, but the two of you fuck like rabbits the rest of the trip. The tiniest of provocations is enough to trigger an extended breeding sessionâif Seulgi ever happens to be below your hips it's an excuse for her to get you hard and get pumped shortly after. You so much as sit down on any surface and Seulgi's liable to appear and bounce on your cock until she's dripping cum all over said surface. On the last night Seulgi bending over and catching your eye while she's packing is enough to get her out of her shorts and you into her as soon as said shorts hit the floor.
Morning comes with Seulgi riding you, grinding in your lap with the abs she worked so hard for, happy with the knowledge that this weekend just ruined all of it for the near future.
"We really should have slept," you manage between groans of pleasure.Â
"We can sleep after we're done." Seulgi squeezes you expertly, having learned just how to get you fully drained over the many sessions of babymaking sex. "On the way back!"
"Fine, let's finish it together." You reach for her clit, and with a deft touch you trigger Seulgi's orgasm and let go yourself, filling her up for one last time. Over the trip you've definitely outdone the resort restaurantâyou've filled Seulgi up far more than they have, that's for sure.
The two of you stumble through checkout and the airport, the two of you snoring loudly the entire flight back. After a long and sore week at work you finally meet up with Seulgi again, and you hug her happily as she enters your home.
"Hi honey, my wife." You could only call her that here. "Fancy work event?"
"You're calling me that now? I guess, hi hubby." She pecks your cheek before continuing. "Hmm, I like oppa more still. Yeah, fancy shmancy, kinda boring. You sure move fast though," Seulgi adds pointedly.
"Huh? Oh, sorry, I should get us rings soon shouldn't I, even if you can't wear it outside."
"That would be nice, but you should probably get something else too." She waves her phone at you.
Test kits, of the pregnancy kind.
"You meanâ Already? How do you feel?"
"Nothing really yet, it's hard to explain, but just haven't felt fully myself this week. Maybe I caught something on the trip, but if I did, you would have caught it too right?"
"Yeah, I feel fine though, so..." You grip her hands just that little bit tighter. "It's really happening, how are you feeling? You should take it easy and rest up, I can drive you back."
"Shh, we don't know yet, don't jinx it." Seulgi leads you to the bedroom. "And since we don't know yet, we should keep trying until we're sure." You're pushed to the bed and Seulgi starts getting on top of you.
"Besides, since the trip I haven't seen you all week, so if you think I'm leaving without fucking my husband at least once you're very wrong."
You say the only thing a good husband would say in this situation.
"Yes dear."
A/N: Long overdue for an ask from best drink @friskyriskywhisky, literally one year ago sorry! Her recent pics are fire too, thanks for reading!
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A/N: orenjideul! i'm back with some mayhaps kinda late kyujin birthday fic! this is something different from before and i hope you just enjoy reading this!
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So, hereâs the situation: Kyujin needs you to come to her place and itâs urgent, for reasons undefined, yet.Â
Exactly half an hour ago, youâre just minding your business with the plethora of groceries in your cart when your phone vibrates and sees her name and that text that makes you exhilarated all of a sudden.
jangkyukyu at 16:51 - âplease come over, daddyâ
jangkyukyu at 16:51 - âi have a surprise for you ;)â
Just with her messages alone, rekindles something familiar within you, and itâs just going to go downhill from there.
Kyujin knows her grip onto you every damn time she messages you something inviting or suggestive like thisâyouâre fathomably predictable, and she knows that you canât resist her no matter what you do.
You love her too much and the feelings are mutual, but whatever sheâs hinting at is something youâre always excited about, as the anticipation clearly gets ahead of you.
But right now, you're here, and you clearly donât need to anticipate anymore, because that headspace was minutes and minutes ago.
Itâs also the fact that you can sense her in front of you, head into the game as you could just imagine what she has in store for you, and what she looks like outside your frustrating blindfold.
The hindrance falls short and results in a halt, as her faint voice calls you.
âTake it off now, daddy.â So you did, and youâre flabbergasted.
The sight alone is immaculate, the epitome of perfection as Kyujin was at the top of the gameâyour eyes immediately land towards her figure, and oh itâs so sinful down to every inch.
She flaunts her full body in display for you and god, that tent in your boxers is aching to be released.
You sit back and gawk over every inch and every element is just right: those cat-ears headbands firmly tucked behind her hair, the white lingerie over her that perfect accentuates her slender figure (not to mention the straps over her midriff too, diabolically hot), those white stockings that just fits perfectly on her thighs, bright-colored stiletto heels, that cat-tail buttplug that sheâs been dying to wear ever since she mentioned it weeks ago and the best part of the shot, that damn collar her neck thatâs pretty slim to be called as one.
Genuinely, this is the most seductive and the hottest sight your eyes have laid upon and youâre savoring every second, incredibly in awe of how perfect Kyujin could be.
âI guess you love it, daddyâbeen looking at me for some while now.â
âYes I fucking do, Kyujin.â You keep yourself seated, as Kyujin walks closer to you, getting herself comfortable for the position she will do.
âYou do, daddy?â
âYes, godâyouâre actually the prettiest girl on this planet I swear.â Your words make Kyujin blush, a smile curling up your face as you support her legs once she straddles you, and at your end, you need her so much that youâre ultimately and instinctively greedy, hands roaming around where her weakness is.
âDid this for youâneed to kiss you now, daddy.â
She doesnât need to ask because youâre ahead and sheâs clearly insatiable enough for you to advance towards the unthinkable. You pull Kyujin into a deep kiss, not that passionate and sloppy as you immediately find your lips pecking the pristine skin of her neck, suckling on it as your hands roam around her soft, scrumptious ass which makes her moan softly, wanton-filled.
âDaddyâŠâ She averts her attention towards the growing tent between your thighs, her hands skating around your clothed chest as she unbuttons your top precisely. âKiss me moreâwant to feel how great you kiss me.â
âYeah, donât worry, Kyujin.â Youâre grasping her ass with a firm grip as you continue your worshipping advances, peppering her shoulders then her lips with pecks that show how much you yearn for her. âIâll probably kiss you until my lips go numb.â
And you just continue to do what youâre best at, and Kyujinâs that good girl, taking everything incredibly well.
Her hands continue her advances towards your chest as she moans out your name whenever you kiss the vicinity of her neck, and itâs such a cute sight to see such a sinful Kyujin be reduced into a whimpering, adorable mess under your control. Sheâs so small that you could probably carry her right now and pin her against the bed to continue whatâs clouding your mind but no, you really want to appreciate every inch of hers and your lips are fulfilling that wish.
âGod, daddy.â Her lips are quivering, eliciting dying moans of need as your lips finds her porcelain skin repeatedly, suckling onto the succulence as you can feel the familiar wetness seeping onto her crotch (it doesnât help that her lingerie is brightly-colored that you can already see how wet she is becoming). âI n-need something from youâohhâŠâ
That piques your interest, all ears on what Kyujin might propose to you. âGo ahead, Kyujinâwe have all day here.â
âNeed to f-feel you badly, daddy. Need it so badâŠâ You know what sheâs referring to as the growing tent in your pants grows harder, and youâre dying to just take it off and fuck her into incoherence but you play along, wanting her to learn patience despite your growing insatiability to her.
âNeed what, specifically, hm? Speak up, darling.â Kyujin whines as she keeps grinding onto you, and itâs euphoric on how great her hips move against you. You support her straddling figure with her hands on her plump cheeks still, feeling her tiny frame be a mere weight against you as you marvel with her growing need, evident with those glistening eyes of lust from hers.
âDaddyâneed your cock badly. I need to t-taste it, pleaseâfuckâŠâ Her pleading continuously like this is just your hidden guilty pleasure, and her bane. But ultimately, you want to test the waters down below before diving in, and you have specific thoughts in your mind that need execution.
âI would want that, darling, butââ Thereâs that pronoun she hates to hear, a condition sheâll be fulfilling for you because sheâs always that good girl for you, and you love that from her. ââI need to do something for you first.â
Kyujin raises an eyebrow, anticipating what you may do as she keeps her eyes in contact with yours. âWhat is it, daâoh! Oh my fucking god, daddy.â
Her eloquence is short-lived when your fingers roam around her dripping cunt, evidently wet against the beautiful fabric of her panties.
She chokes, cries for you but the constant dexterity sends her into submission, as sheâs enervated to move anywhere but her hips.
âKyujin.â You remind her, prompting her to something she would always comply with. âStay steady and let me finger your cunt.â
She smiles right after, all ears for you as she relaxes herself, putting her hands on your shoulders and listening to whatever you command her. She eases up her body as she takes your fingers inside her constricting cunt, moaning wantonly as you assess the state sheâs in right now, and sheâs giving in slowly and you can sense.
âGod, darlingâhow are you this fucking wet already? Itâs just my fingers, oh my god.â You marvel with the unfathomable drench below her tight tummy, her slit leaking on your fingers as you keep thrusting in her, pushing her onto the edge and even flicking her clit as the cherry on top. âYou really yearn for my cock, do you?â
The fabric is a mere distraction on your fingers, not when itâs set aside to the point where it almost tears it all up and you canât just hide the fact that you want her badly, that youâre testing her limits and what she can take all thanks to you.
Also, your questions towards Kyujin is a no-brainer, as sheâs as straightforward as she can get.
âI need it, daddy.â Her head hangs inches away from your face, as you kiss her earlobe just to amplify the gratification sheâs feeling. âMore than anything, pleaseâŠâ
That plea of hers makes you twitch on your trousers and god, she is definitely testing you and inviting you to just give her what she wants.
But then, good girls obey orders, and she ultimately is one.
âDarling, I need you to do something for me first.â Youâre finger repetitively fingerfucking her to the fullest, feeling rivulets drenching your digits as she stares at you with carnal need, anticipating what you may say.
âDaddyâfuck, w-what is it?â
Youâre pace is rapid and you know how sensitive and close she is, and you know she canât hold it anymore. âCum for me, my precious kittyâcum for daddy.â
She doesnât flinch, nor a single respite as she undergoes her own elationâit was quick from her but you didnât care, you need to make her feel special in every second you serve her.
But right now, youâre too frustrated to do that because of the growing monster beneath your pants (rawr: in your headspace).
You know how this goes and Kyujinâs bright mind, still a little clouded with her orgasm, knows what to do, so she gets off her position and gets on her knees.
God, she looks great when sheâs vulnerable and submissive like this.
âFuckâyouâre good at that, darling.â She really is, as sheâs that one-in-a-million girl whose talent youâll appreciate and never let go. Her hands unbuckle the strap and so are the other garments, undressed swiftly and with precision.
Itâs just the last bit of defense against her grand prize, and her profound movements give you a gist on what sheâs up toâsheâs teasing you near your boiling point, and sheâs fiddling onto that limit of yours.
You fucking need to feel her mouth now and she can sense it with the way youâre refusing to look at her, feeling the pleasure even without her hands onto the main event yet.
Thankfully, the frustrating restraints are off and god, she looks splendid with a cock near her mouthâgenuinely pornographic yet encapsulated with such beauty no one can ever match.
âFucking hell, Kyujin.â You whisper and she already knows your weak spots and thatâs lethal enough for you to handle. You love the thrill and the will to combat the pleasure with your own semblance of control, even if itâs crumbling down to submission or in its all-time strength, you will find authority.
Youâre determined to be one because Kyujin wants that, and youâre not disappointing her.
But seriously, itâs only been at least fifteen seconds of her mouth meeting your tip and youâre practically shaking in pleasure.
You still feign your authority, even though the defenses in you slowly crumble.
âAm I doing good, daddy?â You know Kyujin is just asking that to seek validation, intents in the likes of rhetoricism.
But you have tricks in your sleeve to paint that certain expression of hers that you like her to tease with.
âNo.â She frowns, continuously licking your slit with profound fervor, knowing that your words are genuine.
âOhâwhat did I do wroââ
âYouâre doing fucking spectacular right now, dearâkeep going for me.â The sudden shift makes her smile as you chuckle a little, but not before eliciting a moan as her lips envelop your sensitive tip.
The sight is pretty adorable to say the leastâdisregarding the beauty of her face being disheveled due to her own hunger on your cock, her pouting in disbelief paints a smile on your face as you always love teasing her, even in moments like this.
But Kyujin doesnât stop, not when sheâs depraved for such a wonderful mast that sheâs savoring every inch and second she invests towards you. She just appreciates every inch, kissing on it as she tells you how thankful she is for this opportunity and youâre just there, smiling like an idiot and caressing her hair leisurely.
âIâd never get tired worshipping your cock, daddy.â A peck on your base comes right after as she dives into the action, divulging how much she needed you.
Talent remains evident, her tongue dancing around your length as she takes you halfway, lips enveloping with a tight suction. Her hands roam on your thighs as you relax and let yourself loose for her, savoring the pleasure as youâre enamored with the beauty of filth.
The plastered drool around your cock when she pulls out is just diabolical, her expressions enough to make you twitch as her hand now grasps your base as she sucks on you like a lollipop.
âGetting ahead of ourselves right now, hm, dear?â
Kyujin paints a puzzle face, possibly hesitant to assume what she had in mind knowing your past ambiguity. âWhat do you mean, daddy?â
âWhy the cat ears? Wanting to try something special?â You grunt slightly right after, utterly interested in what sparked her mind to try such an inviting fit.
âI always thought you loved the idea of me dressed as a pet.â She slobbers continuously over your length, sheathed with her drool as her tongue dances over your tip while she talks with her mouth full of cock. âSoâmmfhâI rwllyâreally wanted to dress like daddyâs slutty, obedient catgirl.â
Now that youâre enlightened, you canât help but flash that grin because of her efforts and she ultimately knows your Achillesâ heelâwith such a seductive vision coming into life, you can't help but rank this up on the greats.
Kyujin is just relentless right now, proving her talent and your time truly treasuring its worth, as she doesnât keep anything idle. Whenever she pulls out to appreciate your balls and play with them, she continues pumping you with a pace tolerable, then when she sucks you off, her hands fondling those valuable reservoirs of yours gently.
Also, the sight of her figure just staying there, her head bobbing moderately with those cat ears on her head being the cherry on top is just truly insane, a view to savor for eons to come.
âGodâwhat the fuck, Kyujâholy shit, darlingâyouâre doing so good for daddy.â The praise strokes her gently, and those are just fuel as she keeps the pleasure in an all-time high, and youâre inching closer to that elated state.
But you have other plans for her, and itâll be messier than this.Â
Sure, you want your load into her mouth, deposited right to her stomach or to paint that pretty face of hers, you just canât hide the fact that you truly need to fuck her right now, and youâre not sugarcoating anything anymore.
âKyujâdear, rise up.â This earns a pout from the disheveled girl, her bright mind sensing that you wanted to do something and not the fact that she didnât do greatâyouâll just be incredibly stupid to think she didnât excel here.
âI guess daddy wants to fuck her slutty petâŠâ
âI fucking do.â You get yourself out of the chair, prompting her to do something as youâre incredibly yearning to feel Kyujin. âNow, will you get all on fours on the bed, please, dear?â
She obliges and god, her outfit compliment her legs and her ass in this lingerie is such a hot sight that you just canât help but gawk over itâher arching her back a little when sheâs in position and wiggling her backside is just the final straw, and you need to do something right now.
You just canât deal with your clothing being dressed onto yours anymore, peeling it off yourself as quickly as you can while savoring the obscene angle Kyujin has mounted herself onto.
âPlease, daddy.â She looks behind her shoulder, flaunting her ass up as she caresses the soft mattress, waiting for what you will do to her. âIâve been greatâplease treat your kitten like something you always wanted to do.â
Her way of words never disappoints, and you love the absolute madness and filthiness of each dropped syllable. Your cock is throbbing relentlessly, furiously wanting her bad with the scene presented in front of youâsuch an immaculate figure clothed so sinfully, ass up for you and such a fluffy tail is the cherry on top.
You mount near her, your hands finding the softness of her ass as you grip on it, and then teased your leaking cock over her clothed crotch.
âMay I?â You ask Kyujin, repeatedly whining as you hint your tip over her drenched cunt over the fabric.
She just nods looking back, then gets herself ready for whatâs about to take place.
Like a good girl.
The panties are practically drenched beyond saving, pulling it down and towards her knees, and god, the sight is downright depraved, utterly vitiated all thanks to youâthe hint of that gray metal of her plug connected that fluffy tail just hints the contradiction, and itâs all too well.
You swipe your digits over her drenched lips as you earn a whine coming out of her lips. She knows that you canât take it anymore, getting rid of the foreplay or anything in the like, but just go and do what she wants you to do.
Kyujin senses it, and your tip meeting the heat of her cunt was the last fucking straw.
She keens when you plunge the tip onto her overwhelming snugness, earning moans of approval and need out of her lips. The repeated calls of your name was just eargasmic as she forms fists onto the sheets, bracing every inch of you invading the walls of her tight pussy.
âFucking tight, as alwaysâshit.â
âDaddy, pleaseââ Kyujin pleads to you as you elicit more ragged breaths, ensuing a turtleâs pace over her cunt for now as you make herself accustomed to your length for the time being. ââplease f-fuck me real good.â
Whenever she feels submissive and utterly helpless, she begs and thatâs music to your ears. With just a constant pace onto her pussy, you canât help but marvel at how great her ass ripples every time, spanking the flesh harshly as the pain stings and is elicited.
âOw! Oh my fucking godâdaddy, pleaseâŠâ Youâre just orchestrating a gradual pace right now, exponentially getting faster as the moans that form are more carnal, making you throb more.
Yet with this state of elation and pure flow of steady rhythm, you canât help but think that something is missing, and itâs something she likes too.
âWaitâwhaâwhat a-are you doing, daddy?â Kyujin whines, feeling herself being edged and empty as you do the unthinkable. âWhyâd you pull out?â
You donât want to, but you have a better idea that will enlighten her fully, because she never sees this coming.
Those fluffy, circular culprits stem the urge for you to go further with the kinks, and with such control that she wants, you know sheâll lose her shit.
âWaitâoh, daddy⊠Youâre so naughty for your kittenâŠâ
âReally am.â Youâre no stranger in these cuffs, having done this before with her as you tease your tip onto her waiting lips, making her squirm. âNow, your hands behind your back please.â
Now with such vulnerability, she canât help but voice out how she wants you to control her, dictate how she feels in the long run and how bad you want her.
âGosh, daddyâreally love cuffing your lovely slut, hm? Please fuck me up, daddy!â You will, and youâre not wasting any second because as soon as the cuffs clicked and locked in place, you inserted your length in her once again.
With Kyujinâs flexibility and strength still evident on her thighs, she lifts herself up enough to keep herself steady, a great angle for such diabolical pistoning at your end.
The chains of her collar rests onto her back, meeting the fluffy ends of her tail as you grasp it, making sure that youâre utilizing what youâre able to grasp and see. She yelps every time you bury your cock deep inside her velvety walls, seeing the repeated constrictions of her puckered hole around the metallic bud as the cherry on top which you ultimately love. Her moans restrict whenever you pull the leash, and she just laughs it out and moans how great your roughness is currently, and her words are just fuel to the fire at this point.
âThatâs my good fucking kitten.â You keep your firm grip on the handle, your other hand grasping her right hip as you pound her right, pace now relentless now with the constant urges she had morphed yourself into.
Youâre now pounding her into total incoherence, and this is only the beginning.
But then, she remains sturdy and able to elicit those beautiful moans out of her mouth, legs squatting for you to be taken with your entirety, and that filthy mouth of hers.
âDaddâyâoh fuck, I like it when y-you choke meâholy shitâŠâ
âI know you do, kitten.â You grit your teeth as you exaggerate your thrusts, giving her what she deserves and facing her the fact of her sluttiness and yearning for you and your treasured dick. âFuck, youâre getting tighterâguess you want me to call you that, huh?â
Guess you found the right name, and sheâs borderline crying because of the pleasure and how badly she wants to be called as that.
âYes, d-daddy.â She winces and hisses when you spank her, wrists flailing as the pleasure gets her going, uttering words as sheâs still thankfully coherent. âFucking l-love it when youâfuck, call me a kitten.â
Thatâs the groove, and youâre dancing with the devil.
Your hips oscillate at a ruthless pace, Kyujinâs moans and the repeated clashing of bodies are orchestrated to bless your ears, not to mention the squelching of her cunt due to the juices thatâs seeping out of her tightness. Her thighs shiver, lips quivering to the roughness thatâs being brought to her, and with no semblance of control, she can just take you all, like the good kitten that she is.
âLook at you already creaming on my cock.â She doesnât give a compliment or the opposite, but it wouldnât matter because sheâs just taking you so well all that you can mouth is how great she possibly feels and the walls of her pussy. âSuch a good, genuine slut for me, kitten.â
âFuck! I amâI a-am your g-good kittenâoh god!â The reciprocation is audible, and itâs a rhythm in your ears youâll always treasure. Her head yanks up every time you pull the leash towards you, and that earns that wicked smirk on your face, satisfied on the right roughness youâre bestowing her.
Surprisingly, the headband still clings for dear life onto her silken hair, tucked firmly behind her ear despite the onslaught of rough thrusts sheâs taking. The sigh alone is worth a marvel, a blessing to savor as every detail is just beautiful up to the miniscule.
How could you not? Not when her back tenses with your actions, her pussy squelching as her nectar drips over the sheets, her thighs rippling and trembling due to you, her lingerie a perfect fit on her slender body, her hips and her ass hinting a rosy hue, the collar fitting perfectly around her neck, those cat ears a balance to such debauched sight and that tail of hers thatâs a mere distraction as youâre fucking her with all your might, adding up the scenic beauty of her.
This is a sight to die for, and youâre absolutely living in it.
âDaâdaddy, fuckâcanât t-take it anymoreâŠâ Itâs bound to happen, as you let go of the leash and leaned over her, fucking her deeper and letting yoir voice tickle her ear.
âThen go, kitten.â You snarl as you keep the pace going, not giving her a millisecond to recover. âCum on this cock.â
She does immediately, and itâs an utter mess all throughout.
Thereâs no respite, fucking her through her orgasm as she chants your name like a ritual, summoning the devil in you to totally wreck her in half.
You gradually slow down, not wanting her to pass out due to sheer overstimulation but still buried inside her, your hands supporting her shivering body thatâs precarious due to the elation knocking down her walls.
âGood fucking kitten.â You hiss on Kyujinâs ear, earning a gulp from her and that beautiful smile from her lips as your praise is the cause.Â
Youâre just buried inside her, immobile as she whines with the girth invading her walls thoroughly. Of course, girls like her at this moment crave for something special, like a reward they deserve as soon as the second of such filthy sex commences.
Those lips part, and sheâs vocal with what she wants.
âIsnât daddy close? You must be so close, daddy~â Kyujinâs tone laces need, the utter epitome of yearning for your cum for so long and her inviting voice alone makes you throb repeatedly.
You inevitably start your hips again and this time, youâre not holding back. Your hand ultimately grasps her hips with a grip that borderline leaves a bruise because of how youâre grappling it. The other isnât so idle either, and even the best contributor to the mess Kyujinâs brain is currently experiencing as you pump her asshole with the tail plug thatâs been keeping her tightest hole gaped.
Kyujin whimpers against you, having that modicum of patience left as you keep her holes filled and busy, all thanks to you.Â
If Kyujin can see your face contorting to the sheer pleasure her pussy brings, the candor is evidentâyouâre fucking close and not playing around anymore because she always love hearing how near you always are.
Youâre not lasting a minute in her snugness.
âGonna fucking cum, kittenâright to this tight, little pussy of yours.â She canât control herself anymore and with your words, sheâs a whimpering mess. You keep yourself steady, fucking her ultimately until she speaks volumes are youâre losing it.
âPlease cum, daddyââ Kyujin is pleading, a pathetic tone just to earn what she deserves right up her womb. ââI c-canâtâplease cum inside m-me, daddy!â
You enter the promised land, sinking deeper as you submerge into that euphoric state, depositing everything as you keep yourself sinked in her.
It goes straight towards where it belongs, filling her up to the brim as you squirm from the multiple spurts you filled her.
Hell, maybe youâve possibly fucked a baby into her and youâd never knowâthe thrill is fun, but she possibly has planned this ahead.
âFuckâthat wasâoh shit, you f-filled me up, daddyâŠâ She rests her head against the mattress, her body relaxing over its comfort as she keeps her arch evident, ass up for you to marvel and drool on.
You eventually pulled out and fuck, youâre still throbbing seeing that freshly-fucked cunt dripping with your treasured cum, and you know what to do after this.
âYouâve been so great, kitten.â The immediate swipe of your digits gets her keening, lifting her head just for you to hear her moans as you scoop samples. "Here's a reward for you. Donât waste it.â
âYes, daddy.â She just takes it, no questions asked.
Kyujin fervorly sucks your digits sheathed with your semen, tongue swirling over it as she hums due to the satisfaction, a delectable treat tasted after such deprivation.
âSuch a good kitten, huh?â She nods, as you uncuff her wrists and let her body rest against the mattress after such a rough session.Â
âYou know that Iâm still not done with you, right, kitten?â You yearn for her answer, towering over her exasperated frame as she recovers as fast as possible.
âYes, daddyâyou promised me that you will leave a load somewhereâŠâ
That raises your eyebrows, interest piqued as you vaguely remember what the promise was but itâs surely as filthy as this. âReally? Enlighten me then..â
âYou promised to leave a load on or in me after breeding me beforeâdidnât put some effort into wearing this without something in returnâŠâ Thereâs this hint of entitlement here, and as much as you want to put her in her place and remind her of something, her proposition is too inviting.
First of all, you did promise her that: going in lengths just to fulfill what she needs and even over your limits.Â
But whatâs genuinely surprising is her fit for you to swoon and drool all over, and thatâs why you adore the element of surprise.
âRight, and I dearly appreciate this, kitten, so do what you need to do.â Sheâs too delectable to let yourself be hindered from such a filthy round with her, and with her on all fours yet again and that beautiful face inviting you to do what youâre best at, you canât simply resist.Â
Kyujin wiggles her ass as an invitation, as the sight of your load dripping between her thighs just releases those animalistic urges in you to go ballistic over her but you remain composed for an ephemeral amount of time. You work on her tail, teasing the metallic culprit down below as you thrust the metal criminally slow, and sheâs already quivering.
âDaddyâs such a teaseâŠâ She moans out the pleasure right after, swiping your finger over her leaking cunt as you keep herself accustomed to what will invade her tightness soon, and the already-lubed plug aids her and introduces her to such wonders.
âItâs important, kitten.â Your circle the pivot of where the fur and the metal meets, earning those sultry cries from her mouth as you lean forward, inches away from ear as you whisper, âAnd you love whenever I tease you like this.â
Even if she denies it, her body says otherwise. She loves being taken care of and showing her what it feels like without overstimulating her so suddenly.
Because after all, sheâs the best girl youâve ever met and the best kitten when in bed.
Gonna make her purrâ
âThere you go.â You push the plug further, making her writhe with the feeling, succumbing to the euphoria it brings as your other hand dances around the lips of her filled pussy. âKeep moaning for me, kittenâsuch a good fucking girl, you are.â
Your words make her sensibly yearn for your cock once again, and with your constant teases and that longing control fading away as she gets too bearable to just stuck her with this for more minutes, you canât take it anymore and neither does she.
As you command her to ease her anal muscles up, you prepare to pull out the plug as she voices something similar to your interest. âDaddy, do you remember the stuff you say whenever we do anal sex?â
You quite have the grip of that and yet again, youâre unsure but this time, youâre sincere since thereâs a lot of things you couldâve said before. âWhat is it, kitten?â
Kyujin looks back, not with that smirk on her face as she states the obvious. âThat you always wanna paint my face after fucking my ass or something in the like⊠yâknow how bad that turns me on, daddy.â
Maybe she made that up, or itâs true based on the four times youâve had this similar situation (not including this one), but you didnât care to think much with your brain, but with such an irresistible sight in front of you, your cock does the thinking.
âIf thatâs what you want.â You eye her gaping hole, reach for the lube thatâs near the drawer behind you and lathered a copious amount on your length before doing such a feverish act. âBehave well for me and Iâll paint your pretty face, kitten.â
Even with the dim, fluorescent lights emanating over the both of you, you can see the glint on her eyes once you said that. Thank the heavens above for such an amazing build from Kyujin, as the architecture of her legs stays sturdy, on all fours as you mouth yourself ready to plunge it in slowly and when you do, she buries her head onto the mattress, knees buckling.
âFucking hellâstill grips tight as fuck.â The grunts that follow right after are inevitable, as you push yourself deeper into Kyujinâs snug walls and her wanting more.
âGodâfuck, daddyââ Her breaths are ragged, almost crying as the tightness overwhelms her but she still helps you out, and even with the help of the plug, sheâs still as tight as a vacuum. ââpush it in, I c-can take itâŠâ
Thatâs the green light and you slowly invade the entirety of her ass, and itâs unreal how it truly feels around your pulsing length. You leisurely make Kyujin take it, let her be accustomed to your entire length as she eases her muscles for comfort, and everything is just going well as it should be.
âDaddyâs gonna split m-me openâoh fuck, daddy, itâs so big in my assâgod!âÂ
âTake it easy, kitten.â You stroke her hair to reassure her, as you resume snapping your hips to her liking. âGotta start slow, okay?â
So you did, a snailâs pace in her ass as she savors every second of your invasion and the ruined sight in front of you is just carnal fuel. She still maintains that cat-like facade for you, willing to be into the play and letting you experience her capabilities right off the bat.
All throughout the half an hour of such filth, sheâs doing so well and the genuine fruition with her, and you canât ask for anything more. Youâll never get tired of peppering her with kisses, back tensing as you move your length ever-so-slightly, and those endless stream of compliments that always makes her feel special and that familiar rosy hue hinting on her cheeks. As time runs, you impale her slowly and move even more, and sheâs whining, clearly whining for more which is evident with the tone of her voice.Â
God, you can just imagine how pretty and inviting her face must be diving into such a plethora of pleasure.
âI c-can take more, daddyââ Kyujin enlightens you with a green light, and with her assurance, you arenât a stranger to how these things go. ââdo itâfuck me like h-how you always wanted it!â
The demand laced in her voice says a lot, even though itâs slightly muffled as you begin moving with such confidence, a moderate pace enough for the both of you to feel elevated.
Her gaping hole craves for you, as it feels like a magnet whenever you thrust into her, onto the limit as suction is the pleasurable it has ever been, and itâs always fucking up with your brainâs chemistryâitâs a poison youâre addicted to, and itâs mutual with hers. The sensations are far too good to be true, especially when your balls slap against her wet lips and her hole constricts tighter with the feeling of such mere contact onto her sensitive cunt. Your persistent throbs against her tight asshole sends a message, and she likes how she always makes you feel the utmost euphoria, and your seeping animalistic urges slowly going down onto that filthy route. You grasp onto her hips firmly, pistoning yourself to truly let her feel how bad youâve been wanting her ass as she remains steady, on all fours albeit quivering due to your reckless acts on her ass.
âFuckâplease, d-daddyâmore! Gape me o-open!â Kyujinâs pleas are a chant in your, following those defiled moans that completes the symphony. Her sounds just ignites you to chase that high of yours, fucking her faster and letting her asshole take what you can give her, and youâre fulfilling what she wants for the umpteenth time.
âWhat if I justâfuckâlike, fill this ass up?â You grit your teeth right after, continuing your pace as the resonating sounds of her cheeks meeting yours makes you throb, inching closer towards that promised state. âYou wouldnât m-mind that, do you, kitten?â
It doesnât register within her answer so coherently and immediately, and you spanking on her butt harshly and deftly fingering her doesnât help, even with such a reduced pace in your thrusts.
Kyujin whimpers and moans in return, and youâre not satisfied. âKitten, answer daddyâs question.â
Itâs stern and it barely registers in her with the current stimulation, but her current state etches a smile on your lips. âW-what question, daddyâfuck!â
You smack her again, and ultimately give her mercy because sheâs been such a good kitten for you, and she deserves the best of treatment.Â
âI saidââ You lean down, your body resting against her back as you whisper in her ear, continuing your thrusts. ââyou donât mind me filling up this tight ass, wonât you, kitten?â
You kiss Kyujinâs nape, earning a moan from her as your hands grasp her tits against the white lingerie still fitted perfectly on her body and go down onto teasing her abs as the cherry on top. She manages to utter an answer, but not without broken melodies and discordant sounds of pleas.
âGodâpleaseâfuck, I d-donât care anymore, daddyââ Kyujin pulls you into a kiss as you eagerly reciprocated, letting her know how much you fucking want her and you let her finish what plea she may utter. ââbut as l-long asâoh godâI feel your cum, t-then itâs goodâŠâ
You continue pumping her and youâre at your witâs end with the ability to last any longer than a minute. With her debauched sight, heavenly moans, and what she wants from you, youâd ultimately bless her with another reward.
Your cadence falls a little dissonant, grunting in every thrust as you continue to play with her tits on the fabric and kneading her cheeks to turn you on even more.
Right now, youâre going to erupt strongly and Kyujinâs ass vice grip would be the culprit.
âGonna fucking cum so deep in you, kittenââ You lick her ear, continuing a strong pace as you pound her into oblivion. ââand you'll store it in your ass like a good girl, do you understand?â
Kyujin faces back, nodding her head and with her frame taking you all with great semblance of control and composureâeven with her shivering thighs and possibly weak knees, she never ceases to amaze youâyou know youâre just going to be hammering until you blow it all.
And so you did, cumming deep and painting her anal walls white, possibly every snug inch.
The sight is beyond fucked up with ten seconds worth of such elevated orgasm whenever you pull outâyour cum leaking out of your tip and out from her tight hole, dripping towards her cunt.
Right at this moment, Kyujin has truly made you be at your best, to be downright animalistic and the filthy sight of her holes leaking with your seed will forever be etched in your brain.
âThat was fucking good, kittenâgod, youâre so good for me.â You stroke Kyujinâs hair, reassuring her of how perfect she has been with you and how well she took you, and that alone makes you feel proud of her.
âLoved this so much, daddyâso warm inside meâŠâ She turns around, laying herself flat on the bed as she recovers from the sneaky high she had when you fucked her ass relentlessly.
Even with the possibly evident soreness, she still aids you with easing her muscles up, letting the plug store all your cum inside her walls and letting it stay there for as long as you want.
âGood kitten.â You join her on the bed, peppering her cheeks with kisses as she finds your lips once again, eagerly reciprocating and voicing out how great this experience is.Â
âI think we should do buttplugs more, daddy.â
âFilthy slut.â You chuckle right after, appreciating her features as you adore her fetishes. âThatâs cute but damn, I really loved your cunt more.â
âYou love both, daddyâstop lying.â
You elicit a gasp, shocked with her words as you state the fact. âI do but youââ
Yet Kyujin shuts you up with another peck, and then she pulls out with that cute smile on her lips, and her beauty still exuding seductiveness and the feline atmosphere still there.
You take seconds to adore and marvel as her incredible figure is still on display, despite the disheveled fits (youâre genuinely surprised her headband is still there, tucked and fitted) and ruined appearanceâKyujin always looks spectacular, and thatâs such a blessing.
âWell, I guess thereâs another hole you havenât filled yet, daddy.â With the way she talks and invites you, how can you not resist?
It is all too well with Jang Kyujin, but you have some decency left and that grasp of self-control left in the bank.
Or do you?
Yes, you do.
âI think we should clean up first, kitten.â You rise up, as the young girl composes herself and agrees with you, but not without the following proposition. âThen maybe you can blow me on the balcony before we have dinner.â
That piques her, eyes scintillating full of anticipation as she rebuts. âBut daddyâs load is enough for my dinner.â
You smile, giggling a little as Kyujin paints that familiar smile on her lips, her way with words still getting up on your nerves.
âAlright, letâs see how this goes, kitten.â You compose and dress yourself up (pretty unhygienic but okay), as you let yourself be occupied onto something else. âFor now, you can take a shower while I get us some dinner.â
âStill with this plug on? And I wanna shower with daddy~â
Well, here are the toughest choices but sheâs too insatiable to fight the temptation, and ultimately, Kyujin still wins.
âFuck it, babeâremove the plug start up the tub. Iâm joining you.â
That curls up that smirk on hers, as she elicits such an ecstatic cheer, swiftly going to the bathroom and preparing for herself and possibly, you.
Youâre going to die on this hillâmaybe thatâs the best way to end it, but youâre reconsidering your life choices, and will still end up with Kyujin and her only, for this night alone.
You woke with a stinging sensation in your head, little transparent worms wriggling through your vision. You did not register where you were, almost amnesic, soft bedding atop you, a plush pillow behind your head and a heavy-weighted notebook lying on top of the blanket. You picked it up:
READ IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING.
Minji. The first time you saw her, she was sitting underneath a streetlight, reading, of all places, in Manhattan. No one stops to sit and read here. And you saw her there, a book about something with her legs crossed just slightly, all you wanted to do was make love to her. Buy her coffee, maybe, as hedge.
Everyone's busy with something, pricing their organs for their mid-life subsidies, for example; but her, she was sitting still in time, scarf looped over her neck enough times to fall in love. Around her the world pulsed, and she was still, making your heart sputter into little pieces of dynamite - pop, pop, pop! - covering your cheeks in red. And you had the audacity to ask what book she was reading - she said, Faulkner, an oldie but a goldie. And you never wanted to kiss someone so badly.
Eyes like the pools that girls would get naked and swim in. That mouth. You asked her where she was going and she said Nowhere, really - you were struck by how beautiful that answer was. How rare. Almost criminal.
So this is a poem for the woman sleeping next to you, who you have already forgotten, which I am sorry about, which is exactly why I am writing this. It's hard, married life and she hates your antimemetics job to death, but this is for life, she says, and then she kisses your temple, and the memories come rushing back.
I hope reading it rearranges that forgetful brain of yours. I hope it runs its fingers through your hair while she sleeps next to you.
Do you realize you're sleeping next to a goddess?
Good. Now kiss her after this poem is over. Don't put the notebook down and go pour coffee. Kiss her. Because she's the summer rain, the first kiss while the fog slowly clears. Stand at the edge of the world and kiss her until you realize that kiss could be the last, and then kiss her some more.
Her name is Minji.
Her name is Minji.
Her name is Minji.
You looked to your left. She was sleeping, facing you, one hand curled under her cheek, a t-shirt too large - which could mean that she stole it from you - and maybe, just maybe, the one she stole from you because it smelt like you, and maybe now, years later, it smells only like her.
You curl the page back
---
Another poem:
When she's asleep
and the night pours through
and the moon looks palpable through the window
almost poking in
I imagine you, Minji, your curved sleeping body to be the nest of our ship
---
Another page
I'm so sorry Minji
It's hard, all this forgetting
and misremembering and all this writing
I'd ask you the pain of me forgetting
and you say ten out of ten
and it'd break my heart
the richter scale will tell you how
hard it is to recover from an earthquake
and i can only imagine how hard a ten
must feel.
I'm so sorry for forgetting all the time.
---
This time, a poem written by Minji.
Why do you always forget, I say.
And you'll say back: just leave
But I love you.
and what if i leave first?
I will starve.
what if i find another?
I will die.
--Minji (check page 83)
---
You flip past many references, all the way back to page 83:
There's a small inline written by Minji: references handed out to every Antimemetics Division employee
REF: J-007
Containment: J-007 is kept in vault 9082A at the Secondary Archive building. This containment unit is medium-security. A 5 x 5 x 5 cuboidal room clad in layers of cement and electromagnetic interference shielding.
Security personnel have routinely lost their memory posted outside the containment unit. The shielding is 80% defective.
J-007 is a self-keeping secret, otherwise known as an antimeme. Information about the nature, physical appearance as well as its nature, is self-classifying - unable to be produced.
How J-007 was originally acquired is unknown. It was one of the earliest caught antimemes, hence its early number.
it is not indescribable, nor invisible; individuals are perfectly capable of entering J-007's containment unit and observing it, taking mental or written notes, making sketches, taking photographs and even making audio/video recordings. An extensive log of such observations is on file. However, information about J-007âs physical appearance âleaksâ out of a human mind soon after such an observation.
Individuals tasked with describing J-007 afterward find their minds wandering and lose interest in the task; individuals tasked with sketching a copy of a photograph of J-007 are unable to remember what the photograph looks like, as are researchers overseeing these tests. Security personnel who have observed J-007 via closed-circuit television cameras emerge after a full shift exhausted and effectively amnesiac about the events of the previous hours.
Who authorised the construction of J-007âs containment unit, why it was constructed in this way, and what the purpose of the described containment protocol may be are all unknown.
Despite J-007âs containment unit being easily accessible, personnel at the Secondary Archive uniformly claim no knowledge of J-007's existence when challenged.
All of these facts are periodically rediscovered, usually by chance readers of this file, causing considerable alarm. This state of concern lasts minutes at most, before the matter is simply forgotten about. A great deal of scientific data has been recorded from J-007, but cannot be studied. J-007 may present a major physical threat and indeed may have killed hundreds of personnel, and we would not know it.
Certainly, it presents a major memetic/mental threat, hence its (tentative) Δ categorisation. At least two attempts have been made to destroy J-007, or possibly to move it from containment to another Archive Facility, meeting failure for reasons unknown. Addendum, 2226-11-10: It is hypothesised that J-007 was never formally acquired by the Organisation and is in fact an autonomous agent, inserted at Black River by an unidentified third party for the purpose of silently observing or interfering with other entities, the Organisation itself, or XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. No action to counter this potential threat is suggested, or indeed theoretically possible.
Antimemetics Division employees find their memory most harmed when observing Unknowns; security personnel, require minutes to forget - employees need merely seconds.
Take the rule of memetics: the more you observe memory, the more you seek to observe ideas, the faster you lose them. There is a great evil in this world.
---
You shuffle your head above the pillow, pulling yourself up by parts. Your memory already foggier than the moment you woke up, which shouldn't be possible, the only one thing you remember was Minji. You turn your head left, towards her.
She wakes by parts, the sound of an early stretch, a hand finding your forearm, then the eyes, opening onto you. Those eyes, pools that girls swim in.
You read it?
I did.
All of it?
Not all of it, just a few pages.
Good. It's overload if you read too much of it at once.
Patient as always, she comes closer, dots a kiss on your shoulder, lets her hand find your heartbeat.
Mm, eggs?
Eggs sound good.
---
She said she'll take an hour to grab groceries. Maybe ninety minutes if she passes by the bakery, kissing your jaw at the door and saying don't be stupid.
You wash the breakfast plates, finish the coffee, take the equipment out from under the bed.
The home rig is half-size of the lab's. A black headset that loops around the temples, three sensor pads to apply behind each ear, battery pack the size of a deck of cards. There's a film of vaseline on the pads, you touch and feel how worn the pads are -
This was frequent.
You sit at the kitchen table, open the notebook to the working pages, ones with the red tab. The protocol entry:
MEMETIC MEMORY HEADSET - EXCLUSIVE PHYSICAL AND MENTAL CONNECTION CHANNEL FOR DIVISION EMPLOYEES
PROTOCOL AMNESIA: If clarity arrives sharper than usual - if the work begins to flood and a presence begins to speak - STOP. Do not answer it. Do not look at it. DO NOT TRY TO TOUCH IT. DO NOT TRY TO TOUCH ANYTHING.
Take Amnestic-3 (in your right pocket), take the pill and bite down and let the powder swell on your tongue. Wait 90 seconds.
Take Mnestic-2 (in your left pocket) silver gelcap. Swallow. wait 90 seconds - memories from the past 12 hours will flood in.
Take Amnestic-3 again, to forget the past 16 hours. Same dose until the rig powers down.
Clarity is then reduced by 1% and you'll be released from the cloudy arena of J-680.
--Minji
You wonder how many other entries she has been quietly updating, behind your back, to make sure you keep finding what you need.
You put the cuff on. The pads stick behind your ears with a small adhesive lick. And you start it.
---
A grey field starts to envelop the room, your breath slows.
There is a man at the other end of the table. There, in a chair across from you, hands folded on the wood. He is old, bearded, greyed out. Wearing a distressed coat weary with dirt. Around his neck is a scarf. You know the scarf - the scarf you wrote about when talking about Minji - Looped over her neck enough times -
He smiles. Quite a morning
You don't answer, the protocol entry incised between your hands.
Your wife saves you, the man says.
She saves you every morning. She hands you the notebook. She turns to the page with the poem. You read it and kis her. She has been waking up to a man who does not know everyday. She does you good. She is, in a literal sense, immune to you.
She is the summer rain, the man says. She is the first kiss while the fog slowly clears.
He has the fucking poem - you stand suddenly, reaching into your left pocket to reach for the amnestic-3, crushing it between your teeth and letting it dissolve, reaching for the mnestic-2 to grasp as a reminder to take it when you go amnesic.
He is visible through your hand. You close your eyes. He is still there, projected on the dark inside your eyelids, calm.
Stand at the edge of the world, he says, and kiss her until you realise that kiss could be the last.
You look at the table. The phone is there. You press Minji's name in the favourites.
It rings on the counter, three feet from your hand, where she left it before she went to the bakery.
Of course.
Of course.
You set the phone down.
She'll be home in forty minutes, the bearded man offers, helpfully.
You do not answer.
Do you know what she's getting at the bakery?
You take the mnestic-3
You remember Minji.
Minji.
Minji.
...
Minji.
---
Last night, near midnight, bodies swelling against eachother:
The kiss gets harder, heavier, hungrier. You kiss her like you're about to devour her, your hands screwed tight on her lips, shifting down her ass, gripping on because Minji can't possibly stay still under you.
She snakes her fingers between your bodies to get at your belt, wants more skin on skin, wants to feel you against her, wants you, your burning heat to brand her entirely.
There's a muted clink of metal, she's working your belt while you kiss her and steal her breath, lips stinging slightly between short intervals of air.
Next thing she's yanking the belt, slipping to the floor, a loud thunk. And she's on her back, you're pushing between her legs and your skin is on hers and you're savoring the gasp of her surprised exhales.
You're hot and heavy, the shifts into her hips has her wrapping her legs around your waist and pushing her hips to meet whatever stimulus you mercifully offer. She's gripping at your arms, her spine bends into those notes and her moans are an orchestra to you.
You nip at her jaw, suck at her neck, arms tensing around her head, hand curling onto her hair, and she's -
oh fuck, fuck - speechless. You on top of her, your hips rolling against the slippery wet of her underwear, the heat of you and the painful brush of your zipper everytime she grinds back against your rolls.
She reaches between you again - and you're sensitive: fuck, gently, Minji, fuck - but she's restless - pushing down your pants, graceless, far enough to see the desire between your legs and it's fucking terrifying how much you want her-
I need you so fucking bad.
And she's narrating it all - take, take me then, fucking ruin me. You brace back over her, catch her swollen lips, rolling against her cunt and it's pure fucking perfection.
Minji wraps her warms around your neck, mouth slipping over her cheek because just can't fucking stop the fuck that breaks out of her. And your body, what's between your legs, all but stuck and soaked to slippery oblivion against her cunt and the damp cotton of yours -
It's so fucking good, god please - it's all a blur out of her mouth.
It's so easy to imagine it now, how it would - how it will be when you take her. You braced on one forearm, the other gripping at her thigh, her ass cheek, pulling her lower body higher so each thrust of your hips, each grind of you covers more of her cunt.
Groping her ass cheek, long enough to curve around the entire cheek, brushing the bare, slipping wet of her that's leaking and slicking between her thighs as you brush her sex and it's
ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod
Your fingers brush lower, slipping so close to that aching heat inside her begging to be resolved and she fucking whimpers under the pressure, arching her hips, trying to get that finger closer -
Mouth on her neck, pulling a mark out that makes her lose breaths, teething sharply at it, before you lick at it, kiss her pulse, her collar, the thin intimate skin between her breaths. Kiss all wide and hungry for skin.
Your lips brush the hard of her nipple -
How much have you been thinking about this.
You're not looking at her - grips the flex of your shoulders, the nape of your neck, scratching your scalp - and it's all but: all the fucking time, all the damn time.
you surround a nipple now, flicking a tongue over it, spine bending movements that sends her in a thrall - she's gasping, pressed to the sky.
You finally leave her some breathing room, your mouth leaving her shiny nipple, the skin surrounding her nipple shining like gold.
You're sensitive you finally say, stopping nearly all movement.
what the fuck she replies
oh? do you need me to continue, take you oblivion?
And she can barely form a sentence, whining, rolling the wet of herself onto you, your underwear damp from her grinding. You shift back, kneeling, gripping her hip, trailing upward to her body, her chest, palming a breast, biting a kiss right on the skin under her breast.
You're so wet. you say, and it's so obvious, you caress a breast, feeling that rapid heartbeat.
You lean down, hands over her hips to hold her still, and you press a kiss to her navel, scraping teeth all the way until -
ohgod.
tell me what you want. i need you to say it.
Minji bites her lip, hips inching up towards your mouth no matter how much she tries to keep still. A hand still entangled in your hair, scraping your scalp like: you know what I want, comeon, just please, you know what i want.
You lean back, looking down at her in the dark. Your hands curling around the sides of her underwear on her hips. Your knuckles hot on her skin. Her sex throbbing. A shiny wet mark on her hip from your mouth, her pulse beating beneath it.
Minji grips at the duvet, twisting the fabric, can't keep still while your eyes sink over her body, her toes digging into your thighs, your hips, sliding off and pushing out over the bed before coming back to curl her toes on your thighs.
Please she begs, hips twitching, a shine on the inside of her thighs that's all her own slick arousal. Isn't that enough? Can't you see how much she wants it? Isn't it all dripping and smeared between you?
fucking hell, her bare sex is exposed - glistening shine - and your knuckles go white trying not to dive in while pulling off her underwear. Look at you
You lean forward and her core clenches, the shine of her cunt shifts - open-mouthed, you come close enough to press a kiss, but you don't - a soft flick against her clit and she's writhing.
so fucking pretty
You lean back to pull off the rest of her underwear, pushing your hands into the inside of her thighs, this time, with an intention to ruin her. And you sink lower, watching her eyes, pressing a finger on the inner curve of her thigh, close enough to her cunt that she's fucking crying for relief.
pleasepleasepleaasepleaseplease
You flash a smile until your mouth is on her, tasting her, savoring her cunt, pressing hotly to her.
And she's so fucking sweet, you're chasing the taste, flicking over her clit, sealing your mouth over it, sucking at it, the pull of her mouth making her spine bend like nothing, making her hips roll like that could possibly save her. You curl your arms under her, thighs wide so you can devour her easier. And her foot lands on your shoulder, toes curled, the other sliding desperately across your side.
You press a tongue to her cunt, licking over it, around it, back up to her clit, until you press your tongue inside her. Your hands tighten on her ass cheeks, over the span of them, and you groan when she pulls you by the hair to take you deeper into her cunt.
You pull her a little higher, the pressure of your mouth heavier, tongue flicking her clit in a maddening rhythm and encouraging the twitching, needy roll of her hips against your mouth.
You suck at her clit again, urging her hips to roll faster. Hot and wet. Pooling all between her hips, like a fucking dam, lighting her up -
She's coming apart at the seams, every nip of your teeth over her clit makes her arc higher, until she's throwing one arm back to brace against the headboard, and she's riding your face like you don't even need to breathe.
which... fair.
Can't focus on anything until she feels your finger, pressing just against the clenching, empty, leaking spread of her. A slippery wet stroke over her before you press your finger just a little -
Minji cries out, her hips twitching down and it slips a little further inside of her and she's -
Please - Minji cries, trying to roll her hips lower, but your grip is too tight, your tongue rolling against her clit as you suck it, the pressure so perfect that she's sobbing; your finger stroking over the needy empty place she wants you so desperately to fill, before you're tucking the tip of your finger back in and she's -
Breaking open, that strung tight ache inside of her unravelling in a hot, spine-arching rush. body tensing, strung tight like a bow and then easing into a trembling mess; she sobs and twists her fingers into your hair so tight it has to hurt you, but all you do is groan, licking her up, chasing every drop, every hip twitch and jerky, shaking jolt of her body.
Oh my God, Minji sobs, turning her face into the pillow that she's somehow gripping onto and doesn't remember reaching for; her thighs trying to close around your head, her cunt spasming against your finger, still hooked inside of her.
You press a hot, open-mouthed kiss just above her clit and she jolts, whimpers and then cries out as your finger slips a little deeper inside of her while her body is still burning and shaking from her orgasm.
She whines when you nip her clit with your teeth, your voice rough: fucking perfect -
It's too much, sheâs gasping into the pillow, but you aren't stopping and she thinks to shove you away just so she can fucking find her mind but you're sucking at her clit again and she's left writhing and squirming beneath you.
It's too much and you don't stop, no matter how Minji whines as she presses her hand against the top of your head, her limbs unsteady and weak, her thighs shaking as they try to close. You smile against her - she can feel it, the slip of your lips - before you're holding one thigh wide with a grip and licking her up.
Wait- she gasps, but you work her back up so quickly that the tensing of her arms turns into a tremble, turns into curling toes, turns into her pressing both her hands into your hair to push you off but all she ends up doing is twisting them in as you suck at her clit, your finger pushing deeper, just enough that when her cunt tightens on the next stroke of your tongue, Minji can clench around it -
She sobs, breathless, her spine arching, her hips twitching to press down, her body seeking more, more stretch, more pressure, more -
And then your finger sinks deeper, deep enough to pull desperate noises out of her; pushing in and then slipping back out to spread more of that slick over her cunt for you to lick up and drag over her clit in a maddening pattern.
God- Minji sobs as your finger slides back in, her hair knotting beneath her head, another orgasm burning between her hips. Her cheeks burning, her toes curling on your shoulders -
---
You pop the amnestic, the foam swelling on your tongue and the memory gets fainter, fainter -
The bearded man is fainter now. Like a slide projection in a brightening room.
I love what she has done for you, he says.
She is the reason there is a you to do this to.
---
The cuff finally ends its intermission, beginning a gentle whirr and the kitchen table dissolves. The walls of your apartment peel away and under you the floor shifts to a wooden deck, and there's water all around you, a lake so dark.
A man is sitting on a thin mattress beside you. He is old - wrinkles all over, maybe upwards of eighty, maybe even ninety - and he looks to be dying, hair thin like spider webs. But his eyes are immensely clear, like he's content.
Reyes, name's Reyes. You're the documentarian they sent?
Yes
Reyes holds up the syringe. The liquid inside is colorless - mnestic X. The failed youth serum. Rejuvenates mind and body by up to thirty years. Also fatal. But I'm immune. There's a glad smile on him.
He injects himself, and the change is immediate - wrinkles pull back, like a face lift but so natural. And he's a man again -
I remember...
You dot on the notebook -
REYES, LAKE, MNESTIC X
What do you remember?
Reyes is looking up at the sky, a bird - bird with immense grey wings, a branch in its bill, then disappears.
There is an entity that your division has never seen. The entity that my division couldn't contain. Back in the golden age of Antimemetic research, when we had a headcount of 578,000.
You only found 80 employees in your notebook - and everything's feeling just a little impossible.
It came at us. We weren't prepared to be attacked directly. It was eating the entire division alive. So hard and so fast that all we could do was self-destruct and take all the amnestic pills we could.
But - a sudden prickle in your brain. Something wrong. The lake is a little too still, like the night sky without stars.
If you know it exists, it knows you exist. The more you know about it, the more it knows about you. If you can see it, it can see you. And it Hates... to be seen.
You look down at your notebook again, the words are smudging -
There's a splash that you look back to, alarmed. But nothing in the lake.
You turn back and his whole body is shaking. Clamping his left eye hard.
Destroying all knowledge of it was the only way to contain it. And restoring my memories was a foolproof way to bring it back.
You reach for your amnestic-3 -
His left eye bulges. A waving black leg coated in dark hairs, forcing its way out through the pupil, and he tries to break the leg, tries to contain it.
What is it? What does it want? Does it have a name?
A n-a number
A second leg slides out through his trachea. Blood spills on the deck, a third leg from his abdomen.
I can't-
There's a drop, you're being dropped, a full 5 second drop into a hammer blow of water, every part of you filled with water, lungs seizing for breath. Reyes is gone, the deck is gone, and you're in water that's deeper than the sun can reach.
Everytime you blink, it'll get closer. Everytime you breathe, you'll know more about it
and it hates to be seen.
You fumble for the amnestic-3, you fingers are going numb and the nails about to fall off but you finally find it and crush it between your teeth, barely swelling from all the water mixed in. You wait, and you wait -
You can't remember anything, but the thing is still there, waiting.
And there's only pain
Pain that strikes your brain, your tendons, the spine, your teeth. You want to die more than you have every wanted anything.
But there's a voice: Swim. Get to the shore first. Then you can die
You begin swimming.
---
You wake in your bed. The ceiling is white. The blanket is pulled up to your chin. There is a heavy-weighted notebook lying on top of the blanket, and a woman sleeping beside you, facing you, one hand curled under her cheek.
You pick up the notebook.
READ IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING.
The first page is a poem. A poem about how you wanted to kiss her, Minji so badly.
You look to your left.
She's still sleeping, t-shirt too large, maybe stolen.
You look back at the notebook, flip a few pages until -
If you are reading this, don't ever put on the headset ever again. It's all over. The division is being dismantled. God save us all. - the handwriting is rushed and stamped by the Antimemetics division.
And fool me three times, and youâll end up with a bad stomach from food poisoning by looking at your wife.Â
â
This would be very apparent from the dinner leaving a horrible taste in your mouth. Even with the five-course meal curated by the most fine dry-aged meats, the savory dishes spliced in immaculate presentation, and the fine refreshments of dessert after, you canât help but feeling-Â
Sick.Â
The dinner had been pure, psychological torture from the moment you walked in. In kindness, youâve excused yourself with a fist in your pocket, reaching for a pack of smokes as a way of coping (or in this case: relapsing). Itâs safe to deduce that youâd be better off away from the crowd of people inside and finding solitude outside on the balcony at the long end of a corridor.Â
While the quick bliss of smoke, corroding your lungs with every puff and pass, it oddly clears your mind while staring out into the distance. It all hits you in quick flickers - flashbacks blinding you in a mixture of regret and wanting of reconciliation: the image of a woman with her hair swept so beautifully, wearing a dress with thin straps that look like they could fall off her shoulders so easily, standing in front of you with your hands wrapped around her hip ever-so slightly.Â
One cigarette goes, and another comes. You canât stop your twitching hands. She definitely saw it, even from a distance. Staring at the ground a few floors up and the gentle breeze soothing your mind as the two women glanced at you from across the table - how one of them quickly put it altogether.Â
Despite how cushy the job was, it was literal hell trying to keep your sanity in check with all these women twisting your mind into a man fucked-Â
âI take one good look at you and think youâll just throw yourself off the building,â a voice grabs one ear from behind, seeing the very woman who might as well point the gun at you and fire at your head, her face just as gloriously cold like the night, bare shoulders and thighs exposed beneath the slit of her dress.Â
For one, youâre leering - though not too much - since itâs best not to ogle and give into the urge to consume her entire look, âcause the girlâs close but still so far out of reach. Ripping into your stare before your eyes dart elsewhere. âWhy are you here, Dahyun?âÂ
âYou look out of it, so I just wanted to see how youâre doing.âÂ
Surprisingly, itâs dangerously appreciative of the concern, but you know well her silent anger is enough to kill a world leader if the cards arenât played right. âCut the bullshit, babe. I know.âÂ
She blinks, pulls her lips flat. âOkay. Then-âÂ
For the record: youâre an idiot. A complete fucking imbecile at that. Yet itâs in just the general nature for a man like you to give into desires that you shouldnât be bothered by in the first place-Â
âHow long, hm?âÂ
-to be at an end recuperating such a sinful act. And youâre about to experience Dahyun reaping the absolute benefits of it.Â
âYou have to understand,â you plead. âIt wasnât my fault-âÂ
âSave it,â she says, her tone remaining calm; pitying your sorrows (in mourning for breaking the vow you swore at the altar). Reaching, Dahyun steps forward; not in anger, you think. But rather, willing to get the whole story before she comes to her own verdict of the situation. âFirst Momo, now Sanaâs trying to get a piece of you for herself again. I always knew.âÂ
God, sheâs your own grim reaper looking deathly beautiful beneath the shining moon, her dress hugging the curves delicately that you canât help but surf along them with your eyes. Youâve got this smoky look in your eyes which she notices - and she knows what they could mean, because she canât break her gaze away.Â
âWhat exactly are you defending here, dub?â You mumble, a hurtful plea, just the thought of Dahyun (and Sana) is making you lose your mind more than just being disappointed with yourself, a part of you that wishes to take everything back and fill that craving of her thatâs all-consuming.Â
Dahyunâs got no words to suffice, because itâll just be a revolving door of the same issues over and over again. She canât help herself, in the way you look at her and how she reciprocates it, like youâre back to wanting her after being pulled away from other beautiful women that are just as equally whipped for her. They can get you all they want, but Dahyunâs yours at the end of the day, drinking in your eyes; kissing you because sheâs yours.Â
Against red wine and tobacco and you told Dahyun that youâd quit being a chainsmoker, but your tongue slips into hers and sheâs falling in love with the very same mouth that did so from the beginning. Your hands grasp around her waist desperately, feigning less care that youâd rip the dress right off of her body; a drastic engulfing as if youâd never want to let her go. Dahyunâs feet then get her pinned against the wall, shrouded away from the world where youâd let your deepest sins rise from the darkness - kiss her until she begs to breathe once more, hushed through slack lips: âEveryone here drives me crazy, including you.âÂ
It was never meant to be this sort of cruel reminder or notion of how things are; no, not even in the slightest. In the end, sheâs the one whoâs got the ring on her finger and youâre hung up on whether yours should be taken off or not. âI was angry with you once, but not anymoreâ she whispers, lips stuck in this heated inferno when you descend down the lower parts of her neck.Â
Kissing her pulse, the tip of your nose brushes her cheek. âWe both know thatâs a lie and you know it,â you say, âYou know it; I know it. Why donât you confront Sana and see what she says about this.â Since this has been a revolving door of many occurrences and girls falling in and out of your arms; though the one who has always stayed is keeping you right where you are. âWhat could she say, hm?â You propose, blindly angered.Â
âWhat could she say? As if she wasnât the one to find out about you and Momo in the first place-âÂ
âAnd you remember when she called me that night,â you grin, âYeah you scare me sometimes, but I donât fear you. Not when youâre like this.â A shrug is what you give when your hands claim her wrists, raising them higher above her head. âEveryone wants a piece of me just as much as they want a piece of you.âÂ
Dahyunâs gaze freezes, watching as you make way a familiar path of placing an ear to her breasts. âI get that, but-âÂ
âDonât bullshit me.âÂ
âEven if I were to say something, what difference would it make with the others? When Momo got you-âÂ
âThe first time was already rough as it is,â you grumble, âItâs not like Iâm being shunned, am I? Besides; they donât have me. You do.â Your eyes shimmer in hers. âSo what if Iâm being passed around like a boytoy-âÂ
Dahyunâs shoulders loosen from your gripped wrists. âMaybe this was a mistake,â she sighs. âI shouldnât have checked on you.â In lieu of saying: youâre fucking inssufferable is what you are - she blinks right through your face.Â
So: to hell with it. Fuck everything and everyone is the best presumption.Â
She tries to leave, but you donât let her, keep her confined to the corner. âWhat do you think youâre gonna do? Who are you gonna go to? Sana? What would she say?â You ask, eyes narrowed.Â
âNo. But I might if you donât let-âÂ
âLet go? Wow. I thought youâd stay and watch me wallow in my emotions.â Dahyun scoffs at this, since there've been many âdisagreementsâ before. Even when Jihyo made way to you that other time at an event like this, Dahyun was pissed. Your hands find solace at her hips, rustling fabric to skin. âIâd never let you off that easy.âÂ
You hear her breath shorten as she tries to wriggle out of your touch; drinking in the dark, salacious intent your eyes pool out. âBabe- wait. We canât, no. Not like this,â she says suddenly, because she knows whatâs about to happen - even more humbling and pathetic to her own mind - much less of a plea or surrender in your name. Trying to break free from your hands but you raise hers high; higher actually.Â
âDidnât you want to see how I was holding up?â You murmur, breath warm and lavicious. âFor the record: I wasnât doing okay until you came around.â Thereâs truth to this statement, overshadowed by the sneer in your tone. Your fingers slip in the opening of her dress, at her waist while the other cups her ass. âI could tell it was bothering you the way you slammed your glass on the table.âÂ
âSana and Tzuyu-â and her groan is the first real break in her act. âUgh. Those two donât know when to back the fuck off,â she admits, shaking her head. Turns out she was subjecting herself to her own psychological warfare of the other girls ogling at you from a distance.Â
You donât buy her alibi at first, studying her figure as your hand traverses down between her legs: âI did say that youâre even hotter when youâre mad, but you being soaked is another,â you huff, âLook at you, Hyun. Youâre dripping.â Normally, youâd take pleasure in finding this out, but itâs overshadowed. âDonât tell me youâve thought about Sana on me, too.âÂ
âDo you really think that lowly of me?â She asks, doing all she can to not notice the press of your thumb on her little clit through the fabric. The assumption alone could be enough to not be on speaking terms, yet itâs very invigorating how frustrated the both of you are. Her head dips - an admission, âIt wouldâve been so hot, though.âÂ
âOh?â You say, settling between her legs, rumpling waves of fabric that were a measly barrier between the growing tent right at the seat of your pants, waiting to meet her long-awaited cunt. âWhat if I told them Iâd also do the same thing Iâm doing right now?â you gruff, âIf thatâs what my girl wants. Fine. Have it your way.âÂ
Dahyun shudders at the voice; everything about the way your words are presented are so enunciated and punctual: âIâm going to take this body of yours as mine like itâs supposed to be.âÂ
Her body follows the flow of your mouth and hands, responding to them with their own violation, thighs pressed against each other to sustain the feeling. One knuckle up her cunt wasnât enough, so there goes another - or two, even - and the fabric between the inevitable crime is only making it worse in the need for more, and rough.Â
Youâre taking it all in, in the sound of her hot mouth funneling in your ear. Utilizing all the friction you can to make her ache before youâve even sunk your cock into the poor girl. Cumming in no time flat which is a small testament to how you want her to be, and how she wants you desperate to go all the way.Â
So much for her panties anyway: ripped from her hips and lost into the darkness behind. âWhoops,â you say, unbothered (yet you like it despite the little effort), âDidnât mean to do that. Just hope you donât drop anything in front of Sana, or Tzuyu, for that matter.âÂ
(Itâll be an idea for her sometime in the future. Maybe when sheâs been riled up enough to get an entire coalition to deal with your insufferable antics - to use you as their own personal servant until they feel like theyâre willing to switch the roles around. You hope so, too. Dahyun will never know before the day it happens.)Â
Just like how she picked the ideal dress that hugged her body, adorned with all the curves and angles perfectly fitting with the intent of making you notice. Because she knew that you wouldnât stop. She looks over the dim lights shimmering through the small windows, a small clamor of people stepping outside of the ballroom. âSomeone could hear us, yâknow,â she whispers, biting her lip as she feels the third knuckle bathing in her slick.
âWouldnât be the first time,â you drawl, the gentle groan of your zipper undone. Divide and conquer: work her lips while she gets herself open for you, whimpering at the feeling of your tip pressing hard into her entrance.Â
Not that it was some form of protest, wrapping a leg around you, pushing her hips forward for the angle where she likes it deep. Dahyun holds you close, to the neck and with fingers in your hair. You, on the other hand, are shameless and gripping her ass as the pace is being found, snapping your hips upward and letting her back hit the concrete behind her.Â
Dahyunâs body is a map you know all too well. Itâs easy, and (always) good. She throws her head back and moans, letting the clenching cunt do its work around your length. âRight there, hon,â you rasp, quietly. âNot too loud. Cover your mouth if you have to.â She nods in reply, neck going slack as she canât fathom the same spot of her cunt being worked over one thrust in the next - like sheâs being transformed to a being that your only purpose is to love her.Â
For a girl like her-Â
One that comes off as inviting and prude in a second, to being an unfiltered deity who wonât back down in voicing her demands where she sees fit.Â
Fuck me.Â
The dark dress being lifted to reveal more is your own twisted version of a veil.Â
Harder, babe. Please.Â
âGod, Dahyun-âÂ
âFuck me like you want me,â she commands, and you have to wonder if she truly wants to get so fucked over and make it the constant reality (which it already should be) to get you apologize with more than your mouth attached with apologies.Â
âChrist, you fucking tease.â Itâs hardly an insult, but rather an affirmation of whatâs owed: âYouâre the biggest and neediest girl that needs to know where she stands. Insufferably whipped like thereâs nothing else than that.âÂ
Dahyun winces in reflex, as noticed by her cunt gripping your length like a vice. Her eyes blown in a hazy black, closing them in humiliation while the arousal continues to out her with every slam and drag back of your hips. Her face is against your neck, gently kissing the pulse; one more thing to worry about thatâs clouding the impending edge youâre getting yourself off on.Â
The preferences in a short amount of time come in quick succession: hosting her up to the moonlight; fucking her fast and painstakingly slow, to the point where she has to slap your face to get your attention, despite that with one more slide down your shaft, she canât bring herself back to earth as she cums all over your cock.Â
âYouâre-â you choke because her whine was loud enough for someone to notice, but honestly getting caught would be better than being like this. âAbsolutely wonderful, my love. Look at you, sopping all over my cock like you canât help it.Â
âFu- itâs so good, itâs too good I canât fucking stop-âÂ
âDonât,â you sneer, letting one of her legs back down as she stops halfway, sharply inhaling at the flex of your cock inside her, clearly displeased. âIf you donât stop me, Iâm going to fuck you until I cum in your pretty little cunt; we donât want them to notice it after now, would we?âÂ
âAn absolute fantasy, baby. Oh my fuck-â you slip here because the ideaâs way too rewarding with how the whole thing unfolded. âI bet youâd like the thought of seeing me get off with the others just as much as you are right now.â Because it could happen, and it will; just entirely a matter of when that time comes.Â
You kiss her, brutally, with teeth and tongue and every mixed emotion of anger and denial and wanting to own up your regrets to take back whatâs yours. Dahyun feels it in the rough heat, and sheâs hot all over. A bad desire thatâs only boiled from the tension prior because youâd much rather have a mattress to fuck her in as opposed to sleeping in shame on the couch. âIâll make it up to you. Here,â you confess, thumbs pressed to her hips as they hold her in place while youâre pushing the angle a little more deeper. âIâll fuck you as many times as it takes if it helps you forget what the other girls have done with me; when youâre full and cock drunk and begging for more, then you could at least stop pretending like youâre not mine.âÂ
âPlease,â your girl sighs, and sheâs begged for your cock multiple times, enough to tattoo it into your skin and bones. It almost makes her feel guilty; itâs in her eyes, and you mightâve both misunderstood each other- maybe. You get yourself off in her, thrusting without any sense of remorse, letting her moans fill your ears until it all becomes white noise-Â
âYes, yes, yes, yes-âÂ
You blink right through the simple praise, naturally cumming inside her like sheâs meant for it.Â
It then gets messy, lackadaisical. Your entire body shudders as rope after rope is put inside her hole. Her head nods in approval, rubbed against your cheek. Sheâs melting in your hands, almost enough to make you worry sheâll slip right through your fingers.Â
âFuck,â rasps Dahyun. âYou came so fucking much.âÂ
A groan is all you give in response.Â
She coos as you slip out and see her wobble, sinking to her knees, holding her breast and swiping her tongue to the underside for a quick second. âThink I can make you cum with my mouth in a minute?âÂ
You gaze down to her beady eyes, breath hot on your balls. It makes your cock twitch on impulse. âI have a better idea.âÂ
âScared?â Dahyun tilts her head in confusion, which also forces her to stand up without you telling her. âWhatâre you-âÂ
âYou can clean up my cock later when we get home,â you say, lifting her leg and place your cock back in her needy entrance, revitalized from her small taunt. A few more thrusts even long after youâre spent, and youâve came in her again. The tightness squeezing around your cock makes you leak when you pull out and land a little more cum on her inner thighs.Â
âOh my god.â says Dahyun. âFuck- you really couldnât help yourself-âÂ
âSave it,â you spit, take a moment to stop the shaking in your legs and get your pants right. Dahyun dips a finger to the mess below and has a taste for herself. She looks at you without any care, and your hips feel stiff once more.Â
âDo you realize how hot you are when youâre angry?â And she acts like the cloth doesnât cut both ways.
âIf you want Sana to know where weâve been,â you tell her, grabbing her chin and forcing to your height advantage, yet she bites her lip because you know she likes it. âYouâd show her yourself whatâs under that dress, while also thinking of me.âÂ
It's finally out! This was a bit hard for me to write because I had to minimize scene cuts and lessen the plot (this is literally porn what plot) but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. One more iz girl to go :')
Girls like Chaewon donât belong here. They belong on Vogue covers, runways, stages before roaring audiences who clamor for her attention.Â
But itâs exactly what happens. And it changed your life for the worse.
Thatâs the only explanation for you meeting Chaewon at a party, because otherwise, it would be at risk of being labeled as fateâand boy, are those dangerous waters to explore.
And now, sheâs ruffling her hair like nothing happened, having just taken a shot of something strong enough to get her ears red. You donât know which; the partyâs buzzing with probably each type of vice, liquor, and sin. You donât usually attend parties for that reason. You donât need a bad influence in your life when itâs so easy to get hooked onto the wrong thing.
Yet when your eyes find hers in this pool of bodies, you realize youâre just relapsing into an old dirty habit.
Itâs written all over her easy smile, the way the fringe falls over her forehead. Chaewon turns up her chin and says, âWhy donât I know you?â
The audacity of this girl, really. Her voice is saccharine sweet. Her words sound like the lyrics to a sirenâs song. Youâre already six feet deep into the waters and sheâs holding you down.
Yunjin rolls her eyes. Sheâs your best friend, but sheâs also Chaewonâs best friend, which means she knows exactly how this is going to play out. Itâs an old story. Chaewon does that seductress act, preying onto some poor guy, and the next thing she knows, theyâre making out in the master bedroom.
 âOh my god, donât tell me youâre already flirting with him.â
âIâm not flirting with him,â says Chaewon, but sheâs not even looking at Yunjin, her hand already ending up on your forearm. âWhat do you take me for, Jennifer? A slut?â
Yunjin thoughtfully places her fingertip on her chin. âWellââ
Chaewon bursts into laughter and tells her to shut up. God, even her smile is gorgeous. Sheâs a goddess up closeânot a pore or a blemish anywhere on that flawless skin. Her scent is faint and sweet, some fragrance you canât buy for four digits anywhere. You hate that you notice it. It just makes you think how far behind you are to Chaewon. Girls like her donât look at guys like you.
Hanni catches Yunjinâs attention, dressed in a heart-shaped little top and fairy boots, looking like a butterfly. She squeals when she sees Yunjin, and their reunion leaves you and Chaewon to yourselves. The tension between you grows thicker. Itâs impossible to breathe.
âDonât listen to her. Sheâs just jealous I get to have you.â She tilts her pretty head and squints thoughtfully. âWhat was your name again?â
You canât believe sheâs talking to you, out of everyone in this house party. But you tell her your name anyway, and you can already tell itâs something her mouth will keep to memory. Sheâs circling you like youâre prey.
Donât you want to fight back? Donât you want to puff out your chest and say you know exactly how girls like her work? Youâre just standing there, trapped by that golden voice and deadly silhouette. Youâre not even pretending you want her to fuck off.
âItâs a nice party,â continues Chaewon. âKazuha did her big one with it. Invited all the rich guys, the buff ones, the hot onesâŠâ She pauses her stroking on your flesh to finally look you in the eye. âTell me, are you any of those? Because if not, Iâm packing my stuff.â
âIâIâm sort ofââ
The serious look is immediately shattered from her face with a gorgeous laugh. âIâm just messing with you,â Chaewon assures you. Itâs a cruel thing to joke about but sheâs so pretty that forgiveness is instant. âIâm here to take my mind off things like you are. Iâm not trying to do anything.â
But you should know by now that Kim Chaewon is a liar. From the very first second, she lied to Yunjin, lied to you about just messing with you. Her hand brushes yours as she reaches for a drink. Then itâs on your arm. Then itâs under your chin as she talks her way into a bedroom.
You donât stop her.Â
The yellow lamplight casts shadows over Chaewon, contouring her figure into a tiny silhouette on the wall. That tiny dress that reveals her back looks better in the dark. All youâre thinking is that this only ends one way, and how it shouldnât because sheâs trouble and youâve already got problems without Kim Chaewon on your mind. What more are you looking to add?
Sheâs talking about her friends as she sits on the bed. And sheâs got a lot of themâYunjin, the girl sheâs forever linked with; Kazuha, the biggest party girl with somehow the most innocent face, and; Sakura, whoâs pretty much an introvert. She likes to stay home and crochet. Itâs more fun that way, she had argued, and Chaewon rolled her eyes. This time though, she agreed to wait down in the lobby just in case anybody needed a designated driver.Â
âBut if you ask me,â she says (you didnât), âEunchae dresses best among all of us. I think itâs the sort of Gen Z fashion the older girls canât master. Knows how to do her makeup, donât you think?â
You realize here that Chaewon is kind of full of herself, only masking it behind asking your opinions then building another story about herself from that. Every word is a plot device leading to her, the main character. Itâs something you find in too many people. They think that everyone and everything orbits around them.
Itâs actually a pet peeve of yours but you have to give it to her: Kim Chaewon has every right to be narcissistic. Pretty face, great body, a great bank account to back her vices. Sheâs the girl every guy wants and every girl wants to be. Itâs probably a statement made about girls less attractive and magnetic than her, but you know at the end of the day, itâs a title that only becomes true when given to her. Sheâs a carnal desire, something you cry about when you confess it to a priest.
âI guess I wasnât really looking at her,â you admit.Â
âOh?â Chaewon sets her drink down. Her voice drops even lower. âWho were you looking at then?â
Itâs a trap. Itâs a fucking trap. But before you could tell her youâre leaving, Chaewonâs already kissing you.Â
She tastes like vodka and sin and everything you shouldnât be indulging in. But you do anyway.
She gets on her knees like sheâs done it plenty of times for you. You get an idea of how an angel would react when they get a taste of sin when she cums around your cock. Her eyes shut, her body curls around you like itâs the only thing in the world she can hold onto. She looks fucking perfect.
Girls like Chaewon give you heaven for a night then leave you forever. They leave you wanting more but never give it to you even if you get on your knees and pray.
But Chaewon obviously likes something about you. And come onâsheâs no fucking angel anyway. You both can go to hell.
-
You have a place of your own, but most of your time nowadays is spent in Chaewonâs luxurious Gangnam apartment. You raise this concern to her as she does her makeup in the living room mirror. The lipgloss makes her lips look plusher, the mascara enlarging those pretty eyes. You raised concern over her vanity as well, but she dismissed it. You love it when I look pretty for you anyway.
(And you hated to say that sheâs right. You love when she puts on lipstick that ends up all over your neck. You love when she wears the sexiest dresses of all so you can take them off. So you zipped your mouth shut and waited another hour for her to doll up.)
âFriends share, donât they?â she replies. Her ass looks great in those cycling shorts. She said sheâs going to the gym, but if she sticks her ass out at you one more time, sheâd have to delay.Â
You laugh. âEven friends with benefits?â
âItâs in the name, baby. Friends with benefits. Your benefit is staying in this chic place with me, while my benefit is that cock of yours.â
At least sheâs clear with the fact that sheâs using you. Sure, she likes that youâre easy to talk to and that there are no strings attached. But the feeling of your cock in her is too good to let pass.
And right now, Chaewonâs eyeing you like sheâs up to no good.
You know that look. âNow?â
âWhat, you think Iâm just horny 24/7?â
Chaewon walks and talks like sheâs willing to go against each word. Those toned, perfect legs stride over to you. Her voice is sultry enough to stir a heat inside of you that, ironically, only she can put out.
She adds fuel to the fire by sliding onto your lap, her favorite seat. The curve of her cheeks perfectly aim at your bulge. You groan as Chaewon starts to circle her hips around you, all while she looks back at you with a bite of her lip.
You close your hands around her waist. âThought you were driving to the gym?âÂ
âI could do a different type of exercise here instead.âÂ
âThe membership is like, a fortune per month, Chae.â
Youâre struggling to get your words out already. Damn those stupid shorts. Chaewonâs practically humping you. The feel of fabric upon fabric and her plump flesh pressed against yours is dizzying.Â
âDoesnât matter,â Chaewon says. Her breaths shorten but she doesnât stop moving. The sports bra cups her tits that bounce with each rotation. âI can think of certain ways to pay it back.â
âAnd what could that be?â
Sheâs already giving you a hint with the hypnotizing sway of her hips.Â
The graze of your clothed cock against her clit makes Chaewon gasp. You havenât even gotten inside her, nor have you taken off that bra that pushes up her bouncy chest. But the feel of her gyrating against you, knowing exactly how you like it, is enough to make you go over the edge.
Not yet.
Chaewon rises from your lap. You almost groan if not for the show sheâs offering you this time. She makes a show of stretching upwards, drawing your eyes to her tight midriff, before turning her back to you. Her fingers hook around the hugging material of her shorts to hike them slowly down her thighs. That bubble butt almost pops out of the fabric.
Only a thong. No wonder the wetness soaked through.Â
She bends over a little as she shakes her cute little ass to you. You can see how wet she is, arousal sticking to the tiny thong snug between her cheeks. You quickly remove your pants as well because you know how this goes with Chaewon. Sheâs fucking insatiable. She never takes no for an answer.
And you never give no as an answer either. Youâre a match made in hell.
âI was thinkingâŠâ Her knees dent the sofa beside your hips. With her palms on your chest, she works your cock, grinding her swollen clit on the head. Both of you gasp.Â
âThatâs new.â
âGod, shut up.â Chaewonâs whimpering now. âY-you know how we fuck like animals, right?â
She sinks onto the first few inches, her walls pulsing and fluttering around you. You let out a deep sigh. The sight of your cock disappearing into Chaewonâs tight little pussy never gets old.Â
She warms your member for a few delicious seconds, her walls pulsating around you. Chaewon bites her lip and throws her head back.Â
âKind of stating the obvious here, Chae.â
âI know, Iâm sorry,â she says in that irresistibly cute voice. It doesnât seem too cute anymore when you compare it to how she begins to ride you, her hips rolling forward as if sheâs trying to feed her cunt more of your cock. âBut whoâs to say we canât use it to our advantage?â
She isnât even explaining herself yet but already it sounds like all sorts of bad ideas. Chaewon herself is a bad idea. You told yourself that at the party, but she ends up on your cock anyway.Â
Like right now: her clever hips snap downwards, and thereâs that timeless feeling of her walls clenching around you. You lay back on the sofa and try to take deep breaths. Chaewonâs done this before, more than you could tally, but the way she fixes herself onto your cock feels new each time. You have to reacquaint yourself with how tight she actually is.Â
The toned line of Chaewonâs back arches beautifully. You canât take your eyes off it. Your abs tighten up as her ass bounces on your cock.Â
âLetâs see: weâre both pretty fucking hotââ You laugh, the sound drowned out by a moan of your own. Chaewon bites her lip. âAnd we both have a pretty hard time keeping our hands off each other. Imagine the money we could make off that.â
Chaewonâs going faster now. Her strangled groans collide with the sound of her thighs slapping against yours.Â
âAre you saying what I think youâre saying?â you ask, because the more Chaewon bounces on you, the more you canât think of a reason it should be a bad idea. Â
Her melodic moans strike every chord. How she could even get words out from how hard sheâs riding you, youâve no idea. Chaewon is a strategist anyway. She knows how to make do. So she rises from your lap, letting each pulsing inch leave her cunt, before ramming them all back inside her.Â
You groan. Chaewon laughs, but in spite of it, her languid movements never stop. When she gyrates to and fro, you start thinking about how this is probably a ploy to get you to agree. Look, her body seems to talk to you, in all its little motions and curves, look how good it is to see me stuffed with your fat cock. Look how good you make me feel. Wouldnât you want to see it all on camera?
You both know what the answer is.
Chaewonâs smirking. âIâm saying we should make a movie.â She starts rubbing her clit, and her breath hitches between her sultry words. âAnd god, baby, we donât even have to have a script or anything. It could just be me and you, doing what we do best.â
Her voice gets higher. Her hips start to move faster, more frantically than you could handle. And lord knows youâre the only one who could handle Chaewon. If it werenât for you, who was going to keep her satisfied?
âAnd you know the cameraâs my best friend. Iâd look good getting stuffed by that hard cock from any angle. Anyone can watch you fuck me, but they know they could never be as good as you. They could never own me like you do.â
This has to be illegal. Itâs the way sheâs egging you on, knowing exactly what to say to ruin you, combined with the orgasmic choreography of her hips that renders you defenseless against her. And what harm could be done? Chaewon looks great on camera, even greater when it immortalizes into pixels how her face looks when she cums. It could be something youâd look back at when youâre worked up and she isnât there (although that rarely happens), or sell with a reminder taped onto the plastic case that sheâs yours. They can watch her get her little pussy destroyed but ultimately, at the end of the day, your bed is where she ends up.
You hate to say it, but all in all it sounds like a pretty fucking good idea.
âFuck, ChaewonâŠâ
âIs that a yes?â she asks eagerly. The lethal grip of her pussy starts to feel overwhelming. âItâs a win-win situation⊠please, wonât you say yes? Please, please, pleaseââ
You could never say no to her, honestly. Not when she turns to look back at you with those sparkling doll eyes, and definitely not when sheâs milking you.
You watch your cum drip outside of her like a waterfall. Itâs hard to take your eyes off it, but then thereâs Chaewonâs face, sweaty and lost to bliss. Yeah, she would look great on camera. And you did remember thinking back then, when you first met Chaewon, that she was never the type of girl to not be captured by a camera lens. You admit that your idea was pictorials and Vogue covers, not porn videos.
But later on, after Chaewon goes for a shower again to clean your mess up and actually works out, you find yourself setting up an account. Of course, there needs to be a discussion of some kind of how far you actually want to go with this.
âDo you want to be like⊠a full-on pornstar?â you ask. The question makes your ears burn. Itâs not something youâd ask the average person, but youâve been through this a million times; Kim Chaewon is not an average girl.
Itâs late afternoon and youâre on a videocall with her as she drives home. The gorgeous interior of the Mustang looks almost mediocre when put next to Chaewonâs gorgeous face.Â
âNope.â She shakes her head. âIâm not made for Pornhub, sorry to disappoint.â
âHow is that disappointing?â you ask in disbelief.
âI dunno. A lot of people wanna see me do porn, but itâs just gonna be a side hustle for me.âÂ
Nod as you get the verification code from her email. You realize that you share everything with Chaewon. You know all her passwords and she knows yours. Your bank accounts are intertwined with each other. Itâs a bad idea, seeing as there isnât a clear definition on whatâs going on between you.Â
But right now, youâre literally creating an account to do porn together. It canât get worse than that.
You pick Chaewonâs prettiest photo for the avatarâone of her in that tight Diesel top with her fingers through her hair. It parallels with the small rectangle in the corner of your screen.
âItâs asking for your age,â you tell her.Â
Chaewon rolls her eyes, hands tightening on the wheel. âYou know the names of all the positions weâve tried but not my birthday?â
Cowgirl at Eunbiâs house as you try to be quiet, 69 at that suite after your promotionâokay fine, maybe she has a point.
âI do know your birthday. I just canât do math.â
âYouâre an idiot,â she says. Thereâs sweat rolling down the sides of her face. It shines on her chest and drips down the fabric of her sports bra. You canât stop thinking of how her skin looks so good, flushed and stretched.Â
Do a little mental math, eyes up to the spiralling ceiling fan. âWas I still an idiot when I made you cum thrice last night?â
Chaewonâs face burns red. The memoryâs still fresh in that pretty little head of hers. âShut up. Just fix my account and Iâll call Minju to give us advice later.â
âPark Minju orââ
âPlease use your head for once. Is there another Minju whoâs both a friend of mine and a pornstar?â
Alright, so sheâs talking about Kim Minju. Pretty face, cute voice, thighs that could crush you. The girlâs a socialite who only does all the indie films for funâthe talent fees mean nothing to her.Â
Thatâs probably why she does the whole porn thing so well. Top creator minjugato.__. earns millions a month from just a camera, her bed, and another girl. Sheâs fulfiled a whole niche: not too famous to get into an actual scandal, not too invisible for the common guy to recognize her from a small platform movie and think hey, I donât mind paying for this.
You look at her slim, composed figure fixed on the edge of your own bed. âHow long have you been doing this?âÂ
Minju smiles. âNot long enough,â she says teasingly, leaning over the PC. Sheâs typing in a caption for your first livestream. So far sheâs helped you get a fair amount of followers with a helpful promotion post.Â
minjugato.__.: hi all!!! any weekend plans? :3
mine is to watch my best friend ssamuwonâs new movie later tonight. maybe you should come by!! itâs pretty explicit but i donât think that would be a problem đ
The stats rise by the minute. Five thousand people await Chaewonâs debut to start. Everytime you look away the number seems to get higher. Thereâs clear demand for Chaewon, the hottest girl in Gangnam, perhaps even the whole of South Korea itself.
No need for second-guessing. Chaewonâs in your lap, wearing the tiniest tube top known to man. Youâve seen her in less clothes and without them completely but this oneâs just explicit. It accentuates her waist and lets a little skin show before her black shortsâsomehow even tinierâhug her hips.Â
Itâs no wonder at all she managed to convince you to fuck her for work. Theyâve said to avoid capitalizing off your hobbies, but let the record show that you wonât ever get tired of fucking Chaewon.Â
Minju makes a final click on your keyboard. âYouâre live in five minutes. I set up a few ground rules in the corner just in case they get wild.â She fires you a wink.Â
Chaewon reads the box of rules sent in the chat, pinned to the top of the stream. Itâs all pretty basic. No scat, no invasion of privacy, just the usual. Minju conveniently added that requests paired with high donations are prioritized. You shudder. What would the viewers make you do to Chaewon? Thereâs too many fantasies to pick from.Â
âThanks for helping me slut myself out, Minju,â says Chaewon with a smile too sweet for what she just said.Â
It doesnât faze Minju at all. She actually laughs, the crease of her eyes making her look like a sly fox. âYou know what they say: you have to learn from the best.â
Oh, the best, alright: Minjuâs videos speak for themselves. Theyâve gotten billions of views, spread across every social media platform to the point she had to commission someone for a watermark. Itâs all good publicity anyway. More people watching meant more traction and discovery of her account.Â
The air in your room is thick with excitement. The ringlight casts a perfect shadow over Chaewonâs body. There she is, much smaller than you while your shadow alone could overpower here.
And of course, Minjuâs hourglass shape is there as well. It doesnât look like sheâs leaving anytime soon. You honestly donât mind it.
One minute to showtime. Chaewon holds your face in her hands. Sheâs as flawless as the day you met: perfect skin, thick lashes, eyes that could kill. Thereâs an evil smile sewn on those glossed lips.
âYou ready, baby?â she asks. Youâve often wondered how she does that: she could speak in her usual high, cheerful voice most of the time but when the world dissolves to nothing more than you and these sheets, it drops to this ridiculously sexy low note. Sheâs insane. Sheâs unpredictable. But sheâs also the sexiest woman you know.
If you had to be honestâ
âNever been more ready.â
Chaewon is actually the perfect girl for this job.
When it comes to porn, it has to be specific. Every detail should be. The average viewer looks for something that they canât get anywhere and itâs her job to be that. When every commentâs assumption about her is different, she has to put on a multitude of faces, all to keep their interest.
And it comes as nothing to her.
anonymous_lurk_79: sheâs way too cute to be on here
NumberOneMinjuLuver replied: itâs the cute ones that are the freakiest
i said the same thing about minju
The red light blinks beside the lens. So does Chaewon, getting on her knees before the camera and batting her lashes. Sheâs whatever they want to be.
âHello, is this thing on?â Chaewon smiles sweetly, as if she isnât discussing being fucked for an audience of seven thousand and counting. âItâs my first time doing this stuff. I hope you all go easy on me.â
She looks up at you then at your growing erection. She giggles. âBut I hope this one here goes as hard as he likes.â
Minju giggles, too. Chaewon was a natural.
âShall we start?â she asks. âHow do you want me?â
mingmingult: she looks a lot like the girl in minjugatoâs videos
whenidiethr0wmyphoneintheocean donated $****: suck his cock first like a good girl
Four digits already?Â
Chaewon does as sheâs told. She wraps her small hand around your cock, giving it a few hypnotic strokes. Feels like your heart is beating right there in her palm, too. She could feel every hot throb of arousal.
She then wraps her luscious lips around your cock and starts to suck. She suckles on the first few inches, letting her tongue dance around the sensitive bits, before she moves on to take more. You can see her shorts ride further down her ass as she pushes her face on your cock.Â
You pick up the camera and generously give the viewers a POV shot. Chaewon blinks slowly at the camera, breaking the fourth wall, and sits on her heels so they could see some of her cleavage. She looks even more enticing and tight in this angle. Try to keep your breaths controlled so it doesnât drown out the sloppy sounds of Chaewon making out with your cock.
âSuch a good little slut,â you murmur. Use your other hand to grab Chaewonâs short hair. She moans happily. Her seductive chuckle vibrates and sends ripples of electricity throughout your body.
1800hotnfun donated $****
Chaewon sloppily presses more of your length down her throat. Her breaths arrive shorter. You have no idea if sheâs looking at you or the camera. You get the advantage either way; the juxtaposition of those large innocent eyes and the way sheâs blowing you could make any man cum in seconds.Â
nsfwizone donated $**
69__jonginkang donated $*****: what a fucking tease
ANTIFRAGILENTHUSIAST donated $******: need to see this pretty little whoreâs mouth filled w my cum
That would answer your rent for the next few months, with money on the side to really get this gig going. Plus, Minju did say that large donation requests should be prioritized.Â
And if whoever this guy was wanted to see Chaewon with cum overflowing from her lips, then so be it.
Your grip on Chaewonâs hair borders on painful. You pull it back, angling her chin upwards. Film from the side and the viewers could see how your cock dents Chaewonâs throat, rapidly filling it up again and again. Her nipples are already hard. Her lips provide a tight suction, her hands on your waist an anchor for balance.
Youâre really giving it to her now. Chaewonâs helpless little whimpers do things to you, and apparently to the other eight thousand viewers wishing they were in your shoes. The chat is filled with obscenities. The donations rank up higher. Everyoneâs waited far too long to see Kim Chaewon get her face fucked.
If it hurts, Chaewon doesnât say anything. She doesnât even push you away or tap out. She lies there with her knees red and grazed, taking every shot you eventually pour into her waiting mouth. Each swift plunge makes her tits bounce in that tight top. Your cum fills her soft cheeks to the brim.
The flash makes the tears in Chaewonâs eyes sparkle. âDid you get every drop?â you ask.
Chaewon nods.
âShow me.â
She looks directly at the camera as she opens her mouth. As expected, youâre given a view of the pool of semen she kept for herself. She swallows it all obediently.
pipipi: fuck that was so hot
Bunnybaby: we have a new supreme
You look at Minju for approval. Itâs tens across the board for herâshe looks flushed, squirming on the chair. Thereâs a lazy smile on her face.
âWas I a good girl?ââ Chaewon asks. The chat responds quickly. Itâs flooded with emojis, donations, and dirty remarks. âShouldnât I get a reward for swallowing your cum?â
What reward? Thereâs a million things you want to do to her. You could bend her over the bed, creampie her, then fuck her ass until her cheeks are red. The possibilities are endless.
You look at the stream for suggestions. One particularly dirty comment points out how hard Chaewonâs nipples are, poking through the tube top in need of attention.
Chaewon reads it, too. Her fingers run up the shape of her figure coyly. âCan Chaewonie touch herself, please?â
She cups her boobs, slowly placing her fingers over the soft flesh. A groan immediately leaves her used mouth. She makes sure to look at the camera when she bites her lip.Â
She pushes the top down until it bunches just below her perfect breasts. The fabric pushes up her tits even more, as if coaxing the spotlight to focus on them.Â
She starts to pinch her nipples, tweaking and pulling them like they were made to be. You can see her getting worked up already. Each roll of her fingers over the hard nubs makes her soak through her lace panties. The little sounds she makes could kill you.
âPlease?â Chaewon pouts. âIâm so, sooo sensitive. Can you help me out, daddy?â
You donât have to say anything for her to know your answer. Your job is to be silent after all. Itâs Chaewon theyâre paying for, not you.
You set the camera back in its place and gently push Chaewon to the mattress. You tower over her. Youâre taller, bigger, stronger; and itâs even clearer when thereâs the lack of proximity between the two of you. She could barely reach your shoulders. Itâs the little things like that the audience looks for.Â
Itâs the little things like that which set you off.Â
Chaewon looks good in any angle. She constantly proves that with her Instagram photos, where even closeups make her look like a goddess. But she looks the best when sheâs underneath you, writhing for your touch.Â
You donât stall more than you need to. The hot kisses on her neck are just foreplay. You attach your lips to a stiff nipple. She arches her back, but you keep her pinned to the soft cloud that is your mattressâsheâs not going anywhere yet. You make sure of that by pinching the other nipple, giving both sensitive breasts equal attention.
âF-fuckâŠâ Chaewonâs whimper is nearly inaudible. The rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic. She pushes her tits into your hand as you lick and suck. âYouâre so good at that.â
Youâre not selling yourself short, but these easy reactions are easily drawn from the fact that sheâs sensitive. Dangerously so. The trail of your hand across her body leaves one of goosebumps. The thrill of getting her face fucked still runs high, and you discovered early on that the easiest way to make Chaewon melt was play with her tits.Â
You squeeze her hard enough to make her whine. But your other handâs grown tired of kneading her breast. Itâs more interested in the soaked patch of arousal in the center of Chaewonâs shorts. Her legs immediately lock around your wrist, making you finish what you started. You canât just play with her nipples then leave her to fend for herself.Â
âDonât stop,â Chaewon gasps. Your digits start to work between her legs. Her thighs tremble and her breath hitch in that particular way that drives you wild. The tight fabric of the shorts makes it difficult for you to intensify your movements, but you make do. Chaewon deserves to get fucked within an inch of her life. Itâs what she so desperately wants anyway.
It shows in how sheâs pushing herself up against you, tangling her fingers in your hair, hoisting her hips up so you could go deeper. The wet squelch of your fingers driving into her cunt is deafening. It makes her blush, but sheâs got no reason to be ashamed. The viewers love it. Theyâre throwing money at her and betting on how fast she can cum.
Chaewon finally makes a mess on your fingers and screams at the top of her lungs, shaking and whining. When the bliss overtakes her features, you suddenly become sure of something:
Youâre about to be the richest guy on the planet.
-
âJesus.â Minju claps her hands together, looking very impressed. âYou two are naturals.â
Itâs been three days since Chaewonâs debut, but the profit you made could fit five months. Chaewonâs doll eyes go wide seeing the numbers on the screen. Youâre surprised as well at the followers you got in so little time. Other creators needed months of work to get this kind of traction.Â
âThis is insane,â you say. Hand Minju a cup of tea while Chaewon measures the damage she did on the internet. Mini tabloids are going crazy. And of course, people on your street are starting to look at her differently. They know too much about what goes on inside Chaewonâs luxury apartment, but they canât tell the world how they found out.
Minju accepts the cup gracefully. For someone whoâs been doing this for so long, sheâs massively impressed by the quick success. Chaewonâs follower count will match hers in little time.
âI knew we were gonna do well, but not like this,â you tell her. âThanks for all the help, Minju.â
Chaewon giggles. âNot that we needed any.â
âLittle brat canât even be grateful,â you say disapprovingly. Chaewon pouts, but doesnât look regretful in the slightest.
Minjuâs laugh is as charming as she is. âSheâs not wrong. I donât think getting money would be a problem, but you have to keep the hype going. You donât want to peak so early.â
She sounds like a PR manager for all the beautifully fucked up films youâre going to make with Chaewon. You trust her word, though. This was a woman who knows what sheâs talking about.
Chaewon studies her nails, painted hot pink and only long enough to scratch your back. âMaybe we could open up requests.â
âThatâs a good idea,â Minju agrees. âPeople would pay a lot to see you live out their fantasies.â She sits back on your couch. A look of amusement crosses her face. âOne time a guy paid me five hundred for feet pics.â
You raise your brows. âFeet pics?â
Minju doesnât recognize the implication and only shrugs it off. You couldnât believe people were actually into feet. It sounds pretty mild to Minju. Sheâs probably been made to do worse. âItâs easy money. He couldâve gotten videos with that amount.âÂ
Chaewon thinks of that for a second. It doesnât sound too bad. It would take less effort than setting up a camera and managing through violent orgasms. But she thinks she likes the latter more anyway.
She used to hear older people give her advice when she was a student. They said to make money off what she liked to do, and sheâd never have to work a day in her life. She smirks. How would they react if she told them how she made her money now?
âYou could paywall the more intense stuff,â Minjuâs suggesting now. âDonât ever downplay how good youâre doing. If people want to pay for it and would pay for it, let them. But donât post too often. You want to keep them wanting more.â
âBiweekly sound fine?â Chaewon asks. Oh, sheâs serious about this. You wonder how youâll survive the next week.Â
âPerfect, actually.â
You butt in the conversation for a moment. âWhat about equipment?â Sure, you had a ringlight and a PC, but thereâs nothing more. You imagine that this would take a lot of work and stuff, like a professional camera and neon lights.Â
Chaewon was wondering about that as well. She looks at Minju, who shakes her head, much to your surprise.
âYou wonât have to worry about that. The average person isnât going to Pornhub anymore to get off. They want something unscripted now.â
Minjuâs fox eyes dart pointedly at the two of you. âThey want something real,â she stresses.
Her gaze is sharp with accusation. Chaewon laughs and rests her head on your shoulder. You donât say a word to deny it.
-
Just in case anybody clutches their pearls over it, youâll clarify here that you still have pretty normal jobs. Youâre not totally prostituting yourselves for money, although you hate to use that term and youâre not desperate for the extra income.
You work a corporate job and volunteer at your nearest charity when you have time on your hands. (Taking note of the latter is advice you have to take yourself because it seems you live off sin 24/7.) It allows you to split the rent with Chaewon and buy food.Â
As for Chaewon, she also works a regular job. You think? Wait, you realized that you have no idea what she does for a living. You simply assumed that with all her vices and expensive clothes, she must have a job keeping her busy somewhere.
Come to think of it, youâve never heard her complain about work. Itâs been a while since you moved in and got to know each other, but all the sticky notes about deadlines on the fridge are yours.Â
âChaewon, I have something I want to ask you.â
She turns to you, her legs swinging off the seat at the bar. You gulp. All of her beautiful legs are on display thanks to that tiny brown dress. The only things that bother saving anything to the imagination are her boots.Â
That stitched cowboy hat too, if it counts. And it does the opposite of what it should. It makes you think of how well it matches her dress, and the way it makes her look like a cowgirl who could rideâ
âYes?â she says, still bopping her head to the music.Â
âWhere the hell do you get all your money?â
Chaewon ponders over this for some time, then takes a sip of her margarita. âOh, I donât know.â Seeing the surprise on her face nearly makes her spit her drink out from laughing. âSeriously, I donât know! I think it just shows up in my bank account. I guess our little collaboration helps, too.â
She winks at you. Your breaths shorten.
Nope. Just because sheâs the hottest girl alive doesnât mean she can lie to you. âLiar.â
âDonât be a dick.â
âWhat was I supposed to think, Chae?â you say as diplomatically as you can. You gesture to your surroundings. âWeâre in one of the most expensive bars in Hongdae where the fucking senatorsâ kids create scandals. Youâre wearing another designer set.â
You had a point. Chaewon shrugs off the offense she took. âMy fault for assuming youâd think about anything other than me in this dress.â
She stands up and twirls around. The skirt floats around her thighs. Those safety shorts are way too tiny to be considered safe. Chaewon gets a hit out of teasing you though, grinning when the realization registers on your face.
âDonât you want to take pics of me?â asks Chaewon with a pout. She doesnât wait for your answer and hands you her phone. Itâs the latest one, pink and sleek. âSo we have content to upload later!âÂ
While you have qualms about taking pictures of Chaewon in her ridiculously provocative outfit, sheâs right. Itâs been a few days since your last upload. Minju said it was important not to post too often, but too long in between posts could throw your followers off.
So here you are again, playing the role of a photographer. You snap several photos of her within minutes. Chaewon switches between poses like theyâre nothing. You have one where sheâs bent slightly over the bar, a finger on her lips as she looks coyly at her short skirt. Thereâs one in the bathroom where she looks at the mirror instead of the lens. Sheâs holding the cowboy hat on her head and winking.Â
All that skin, that shameless seductiveness⊠it feels like youâre getting drunk off of these sexy photos instead of the alcohol. Chaewon is too hot for you to handle.
You return to your private booth to upload them. What would she do without you? Youâre her fuckbuddy, best friend, and social media manager all at the same time.Â
anyone know where i can find a ride? âŁïžđ€
Itâs difficult to think of a good caption. Choosing which photos to post is ruining you. Not to mention the filtering to bring out the brown of her eyes and the sunlight. It makes you stall. You have to keep staring. You have to take note of every detail, every delicious curve of her body. Images of Chaewon posing, winking, and showing off are burned forever into your mind.
Your hands shake as you hit post. Turn your phone off. Focus on having a good time and dancing and singing and whatever you do, do not take another look at those pictures.Â
âOh, you poor thing.âÂ
Oh no.Â
Chaewon sounds smug as ever as she takes a seat on your lap. âHard already? We arenât even in the bedroom.â
You donât need this right now. Getting an erection could not come at a more inconvenient time. You canât say anything provided that you canât even meet her eyes.
âDonât worry,â she purrs. âIâm gonna take care of that.â
Thereâs a hunger in Chaewon that needs to be satiated today. You can see the fire in her eyes as she pulls you out and wraps a fist around your stiff cock. The sight of her small, dainty hand compared to your shaft is provocative by itself. Those large, deceptively innocent eyes stay on yours while she drags her delicious touch up and down, preparing you for her.Â
âBeen needing you so bad latelyâŠâÂ
Chaewon lifts her hips slightly. She allows your cock to rub between her slick folds, teasing at her entrance but never quite giving her what she needs. Her breath hitches when you hit her clit.Â
âPromise to fill me all the way up,â she whines. âDonât leave a single drop.â
You wouldnât dare. There hasnât been any penetration yet the wetness of her puffy lips feels like heaven. In your hands, her core works her waist into circles. More precum ends up grinding and mixing between your sexes.Â
Chaewon whimpers. âPromise me.â
âFuck, gonna fill this pussy up, Chaewon.â Her nipples poke through the thin bikini. Her grinding grows more desperate as you groan out your obscene promise. âGonna breed this perfect pussy. Just ride my cock like the pretty little fuckdoll you are.â
She canât take it anymore. Chaewon slams herself down on your cock in one go.
The stretch hurts so good. Her head throws back with a breathy moan. Her soft walls immediately hold onto you, throbbing and needy.Â
The music is a dull thump through the walls. You could feel the bass in your heart time with Chaewonâs bouncing. Her back is against the door.Â
âThere,â she gasps. âRight there, donât stopâŠâ
Her eyes are dim with pleasure. You bring a hand up to pinch and roll her nipple, circling the taut peak with your thumb. Immediately Chaewonâs internal muscles clench around you like a vise.Â
Her hips start to lift and dance in a little choreography of an impending orgasm. You hold her down, pinning her to your lap while you thrust up in her. The tightness becomes harder to push past through. Sheâs so tense that you have to rub your thumb against her clit to get her to relax.Â
Your eyes meet. Jesus, she was a sight for sore eyes. The toasty, sunkissed color of her makeup makes her look like sheâs blushing. The two of you are flushed either way. Thereâs forbidden excitement in knowing one of the servers could walk in here at any moment and see Chaewon riding you harshly. You shouldnât be doing this here. There were important people who could raise this complaint to the higher-ups and get you banned forever.
You can stop the bullshit. When has hesitation saved you from getting in trouble? When has anything convinced you not to fuck Kim Chaewon?Â
-
You didnât even mean to execute this request so well.
It just so happens that this is how a day in your life looks like with Kim Chaewon. While they pay to place themselves in your shoes and see it happen, youâre the one who actually gets to touch her.Â
A guy who went by the username hanyoooojin sent a large amount of money the moment Chaewon announced requests. Unlike the other ones who filled up the rest of the slots, he didnât want anything overly specific.
Netflix and chill anyone? đ
That was the caption you set for the video. Itâs something enticing even with its simplicity, and come on, people would watch anything if it had Chaewon in it.Â
The camera records everything. It starts out with Chaewon dressed in your shirt. Itâs way too big on her, and if the fabric were any more see-through, it would be clear she only had a bra on. Sheâs lying next to you on your bed as a movie plays on your TV.
The volume is low, almost to complete silence. Itâs only static background noise to whatâs going to happen.
Chaewon snuggles against you. Her body is already warm. But she does a good job of acting like sheâs interested in the movie. She called it boring a million times before, and you remain convinced it was an attention span issue.Â
âI fucking hate when movies are slow,â she had said. She rolled her eyes. âWhatâs the point of making me wait thirty minutes for something exciting to happen?â
âSounds a lot like you to hate taking things slow,â you replied easily, earning you a punch in the shoulder.
Maybe thatâs why her hand slips under the blanket a little too early. Youâre supposed to be a sweet domestic couple. Itâs just a role you have to play for cash to come in. Chaewonâs the sweet girlfriend and youâre the boyfriend who still wants to hang out with her even when youâre exhausted. You watch a movie together, as requested, pretending you have no idea of what sheâs about to do.
Her creamy thighs folded against each other hide her wetness. Chaewonâs become a master at angles. She knows to lift the blanket a little above your thighs so the camera captures her hand in your shorts.Â
You look down at what sheâs doing and laugh. âThought you wanted to watch a movie,â you say.Â
Her lazy strokes work you to full mast. You remind yourself that this was supposed to be unhurried, but there was no delaying gratification around Chaewon.Â
Chaewon takes her eyes briefly off the screen to smile at you. âI do.â Her voice is soft and unfazed. She looks adorable in those puppy pajamas. It really sells the fantasy. âBut I can do two things at once, canât I?â
Her thumb circles your tip with maddening precision. Chaewon kisses you with the same gentleness she uses to jack you off. You can tell sheâs struggling not to pounce on you. This isnât the kind of sex she was used to. Sex for Chaewon was trading orgasms until one of you confessed you ran short.Â
For this one, she has to keep herself sane. She has to be tender with it. She takes your hand, squeezes it in hers, and places it right where she needs you. The tiny pajama shorts allow easy access to her cunt.Â
âJust keep watching,â she whispers.
The hair at the back of your neck stands up. Your lips find Chaewonâs again. You run your fingers up and down her slick folds while she jerks you off. Aside from a few heavy breaths and twitches of her tight body, she doesnât take her eyes off the movie. Sheâs equal parts engrossed by it and focused on getting you off.
Chaewonâs voice runs into a whine as you go faster. Her thighs start to get messy with her own arousal. Itâs taking everything in her not to strip off this shirt and ride you. She can do that later, something even the audience canât pay to see.Â
Even though youâre needy and throbbing in the soft grip of her fist, you smirk. âWhatâs the matter, baby? I thought you said we should focus on the movie.âÂ
Chaewon is still intent on keeping up the pretense. But itâs clear she wants this, too, the handjob no longer the unhurried routine she initiated.
You thrust your fingers against that sweet spot sheâs been aching for you to reach. Chaewonâs body curls around you tightly. Her fingernails find purchase scratching on your forearm.Â
She canât do this any longer. Youâre the only actor she can watch now. Her gaze seals onto yours as her movements grow more frantic, like sheâs willing you to do the same. You have one common goal here, really. Itâs evident from the precum leaking onto her wrist, her cunt pulsing around your digits. This could only end one way.
Thatâs one of the many requests you and Chaewon fulfill. Besides the need for real stamina, especially for longer videos, itâs actually not that taxing. Itâs no construction job anyway, but fucking Chaewon comes easily to you. It takes no work at all when itâs as natural as improv.
Over the weeks, you get people tipping generously just for photos, and you remember what Minju said about them. People paid a lot to see a pretty girl naked and doing whatever they wanted.
âItâs up to you if you want to do them,â you remind Chaewon. Itâs one of those lazy afternoons where youâd rather bask in the airconditioning than do anything productive. While youâre fully conscious, your bodyâs still in sleep mode, draped in the duvet and Chaewonâs form.
Chaewon rolls her eyes. You donât really see it since sheâs clicking away at her phone, but you know her so well that itâs like watching a movie you got a first look at unfold. âLook at you getting all mushy. I told you I donât break easily.â
You know that, too. Youâve folded her in half and split her legs apart so many times, but you learned not to let her small stature fool you. In no makeup and just an oversized shirt and shorts, Chaewonâs the most antifragile person you know.Â
You wave a hand in the air. âOf course you wonât break down. Youâre the most dick-addicted girl in the world.â Chaewon snorts at that. âBut weâre doing homemade porn for a reason. This isnât a corporate or something. You donât have to do every request there is.â
Chaewon sees where this is leading up to. She shuts her phone and shifts on the bed, the ocean blue sheets rustling above her. Her arms rest on your stomach.Â
She tilts her head to the side like a puppy. Thereâs an amused smile on her face.Â
âFirst of all, you should stop worrying so much,â she tells you. The faux sternness in her tone shouldnât be this cute. âAnd second of all, nobodyâs making me do anything I donât want to do. Iâm a big girl, you donât have to worry about me.â
Right. It should be common sense already. Chaewonâs always done things of her own accord. Sheâs not the malleable type of girl who takes no trouble to convince. Itâs honestly one of the traits you admire about her outside of the bedroom. Maybe, if you had Chaewonâs heart of steel or one-track mind, you wouldnât have let her fuck you at that party. You wouldnât be in this bed with her.
But god, were you glad youâre here.
You lose yourself in these thoughts for barely five seconds and sheâs already suddenly too close. One wrong move and youâd end up kissing her. Thereâs that warmth again, radiating from her body in what you figured to identify as a sign. You get one too many good omens from Chaewon.
âAnd you know what I really, really want to do?â she asks breathily. Every word is a sultry huff against your lips.
Very few could stand a chance against her. You think itâs why she likes you so much and keeps you around, regardless if sheâd admit it. Youâre the only guy who could look her in the eye like you are right now and reply, âDo I even have to guess?â
It doesnât take long for it to happen. These spontaneous sessions are becoming a bad habit. But how can you help yourself when Chaewon looks like that? Youâve no defense against those lithe legs and tight midriff, much less against that even tighter pussy.Â
It just so happens all this looks great on camera.
You close the gap between you until it feels like your bodies are bonded together. Theyâre impossible to break apart. You have one hand closed around Chaewonâs wrists, the other on her hip. The pillow muffles her screams as you thrust into her mindlessly. Her ass is sore and red.Â
âGod, all that talk was for nothing, wasnât it?â Itâs always worth it in the end. You completely own her. Her pussy was just made for your cock, clinging wetly onto your girth and doing so even tighter when you back it out. âYou just wanted to rile me up so I can show you youâre my good little slut, taking my dick like you were born to do.â
Chaewonâs crying out, messy little sounds tumbling out of her drooling lips. The pillowcase bears her weight and those tears of bliss. The truth is she wouldnât trade this for anything else. She could spend all her life on the end of your length, whining her tiny waist into your palms and her ass perked and ready for you. She wouldnât know what to do without hearing the sound of your skin snapping against hers.
âFeels soâfuckingâgood!â Chaewon sobs into the pillow. Senseless words are all you could fuck out of her. She canât think much when you have your dizzying grip on her wrists like that or when youâre completely destroying her tight hole. âIâm just your personal cumdump, Iâm all yours, youâre going so fucking fastââ
Sheâs absolutely dripping around you. Her body responds to you so well because this is exactly how she likes being fucked. She likes being fucked as if youâre trying to get her cunt to memorize the shape of your member. Not one spot on her body is left untouched. Her pussy tightens dangerously when you drive up into her cunt and those messy moans could be heard even with the fabric against her mouth.Â
And itâs incredible without all the lighting and ignoring the camera blinking next to you. Youâve got a great view: Chaewon bent over and her ass up on the bed, the hourglass shape of her waist to her hips even more appealing from this angle, and her toned back shining with sweat. Her tits swing back and forth in response to the force youâre taking out on her. It could make any man go crazy.
You shouldâve known to put towels on the bed, because the endingâs always the same when Chaewon feels the entirety of your control, when sheâs being fed every thick inch of your cock, being handled like sheâs nothing but a doll to release intoâ
âOh my god!â Chaewon cries out, the lightning before the thunder, the thunder before the storm. Her scream is equal parts bliss and aweâsheâs shaking all over, and the swift deep drills of your cock draw out her squirt.Â
Neither of you expect it. The sharp sound of it makes you slow down. She hasnât stopped pushing her ass into you. The puddle gets on your thighs and hers, splattering on the sheets. You feel suspended in mid-air staring at the mess sheâs making. It feels even more surreal knowing you did it to her.
Chaewon collapses forward, her cheek against the softness of the pillow. Itâs ridiculous how good she looks in spite of the messy hair and kiss-swollen lips. Always the temptress. The camera shines light on her exhausted, satisfied simper.Â
And of course, thereâs the evidence that will prove this happened. It will back you up even if Chaewon randomly decides not to post this video on the internet or worse, call everything off. The fresh mess she left on the blanketâthe same one you had just been cuddling in a few hours earlierâis all the proof youâll need.
Chaewon laughs breathlessly. She arches her back beautifully as she pulls away from your cock. Itâs the perfect ending scene.Â
-
All entertainment industries are parallel to each other in a way. You could work in film (legitimate films, by the wayânot whatever you and Chaewon are making), music, or K-pop but what they donât tell you is they all work the same. They manufacture and process things that appeal to the consumer. You could play the usual tropes, tunes, or concepts. Go down the loveteam road or make another generative pop song. If youâre brave enough, you can search for a niche and make it your brand.
You can do anythingârelease an Oscar-winning film or write a critically acclaimed album, pick your poison. It all boils down to one thing everyone is looking for anyway:
A big break.Â
It will solidify your place in the industry and make sure you stay there, and if not, it makes sure you get a higher spot. A big break would earn you a loyal amount of followers and more money in your pocket. Very few get their big break. Some, although deserving, donât get theirs at all.
In Chaewonâs situation, her big break was that video. Everyoneâs talking about it and everyoneâs absolutely obsessed with it. You see it posted in places you donât expect seeing it: Instagram group chats, the NSFW side of Twitter, and the first Google result that pops up when you search Chaewonâs name. Itâs gotten so much traction that you start putting a watermark of her username over the videos, along with a link to her social media profiles should they ever get crossposted again.
Itâs an overnight success. You grin when you see Minjuâs messages, supportive as always.
minjugato.__.:Â
Hi chaewon <3 youâre a star!!!! so proud of you for doing well on your own
i always knew you could do it
if you ever wanna collab w me, hmu! iâve got a great idea thats going to break the internetÂ
lmk if youâre up for it. for old timesâ sake, right? ;)
It was finally time for what most high school students liked to call the highlight of their teenage lives.
Well...most of them, anyway.
For some, it was nothing more than an overpriced event designed to make students spend ridiculous amounts of money on clothes they would only wear once before shoving them into the darkest corner of their closets or returning them to the rental store.
For others, it was practically a holiday to an extent.
It was just one night but that was all it took for the school gymnasium to transform into something almost unrecognizable.
Gone were the squeaky basketball shoes, half-hearted morning assemblies, and painfully boring lectures that made students question every life decision that led them there. In their place were fairy lights draped across ceilings, elaborate decorations that tried very hard to scream elegance, and slow music that promised either magical confessions or deeply awkward dancing.
And most importantly, there were no uniforms.
No stiff blazers.
No wrinkled ties.
No skirts measured by strict school rules.
Just dresses that glittered beneath warm lights and suits tailored enough to make boys suddenly think fixing their hair once or twice would mold their attitude into gentlemen.
I'm talking about prom of course!
Which explained why Minju currently looked like she wanted to try each and every excuse to not go.
"This is stupid."
Her friend groaned for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening.
"You've said that twelve times already," Yunah said from across the room.
"Because it remains true all twelve times."
Minju stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dress shop, aggressively adjusting the fabric of her dress like she could somehow bully it into becoming less embarrassing.
"This feels weird."
"Did you suddenly develop an allergy towards dresses?"
"I might have at this point."
Yunah snorted from her seat near the fitting room platform, one leg crossed over the other as she watched Minju spiral in real time.
The shop was far too bright for Minju's liking.
Every employee looked far too excited and every rack around her hung dresses that looked like they belonged to people significantly more confident than she was.
The dress she wore was simple compared to the others she had been bribed into trying on.
And by that, she meant Yunah had to bribe her with a week's worth of free lunches and the promise that she would use her position in the media club to hide the unflattering prom photos before they were posted online.
Minju had accepted far quicker than she cared to admit.
The dress she currently wore was teal.
It hugged her waist before falling softly down her legs, the fabric smooth and tiny silver details lined the straps.
"Do I really have to go?" Minju asked.
Yunah had already stood up from her seat, already pushing through hangers of dresses.
"Yes," she answered immediately.
Minju frowned at her reflection.
"It sounds boring anyways. You just stand around while the loud music blasts into your ears and eat food no better than what the cafeteria serves."
"Don't be like that," Yunah replied as she pushed another hanger back. "You already submitted your attendance sheet plus (YN) is going to be there."
Minju nearly tripped over absolutely nothing.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Her head snapped toward Yunah so fast it almost broke off her head.
Yunah slowly turned to look at her then smiled.
Minju immediately knew she had fallen into a trap she should've seen a mile away.
"I don't know, I just thought that it would motivate you just a tiny bit."
Minju stared at her.
"...No," she said flatly.
Yunah blinked. "No?"
"No, it doesn't motivate me knowing he will be there."
"Don't be so rash, don't you want to see what he looks like in a tux?"
Minju opened her mouth and raised to point a finger at her yet nothing came out.
And that alone told Yunah everything she needed to know.
A grin spread across her face with the speed of someone who had just caught her friend in denial.
"Oh my god," Yunah gasped dramatically. "You do want to know."
"I do not."
"You practically blue-screened in front of me."
Minju turned back toward the mirror quickly, crossing her arms across her chest tightly.
"I was simply caught off guard by how ridiculous your question was."
Yunah hummed. "Mhm."
"It's not like I care what he wears."
"Yeah, sure you don't."
"He could show up in a trash bag and I still wouldn't care."
"That sounds weirdly specific." Yunah's reflection struggled not to laugh.
Minju narrowed her eyes at the mirror.
Annoying as it was, Yunah's question had already planted itself in her brain like a virus, already creating more thoughts and images in her mind uninvited.
What would you look like?
Would your hair still be slightly messy because you always forget to fix it?
Would your outfit stay smooth all through the night or would you move enough to mess it up and create wrinkles.
Would you somehow still look annoyingly comfortable with everyone else while she shoved herself to a corner?
But most importantly,
Why was she thinking about this?
"This is your fault," Minju muttered.
Yunah looked offended. "For being a supportive friend?"
"For being so annoying like everybody else."
Minju groaned and dropped into the small platform seat beside the mirror.
"I genuinely don't understand why everyone acts like prom is some grand event."
"Because for some people it is."
"It's dancing in the school gym."
"It's about the memories you make throughout the night."
"You get tabbed for pictures that are way overwise."
"C'mon, it's romantic."
"Disgusting." Minju made a face like she had tasted expired milk.
"That's very bold coming from someone who literally accepted crocheted flowers from a boy and carried them home like they were the ark of the covenant." Yunah laughed.
Minju went completely still.
"H-he was just being generous." She replied.
Yunah's laughter only grew louder.
"Generous?" she repeated. "Minju, he bought you handmade flowers because you once said real ones die too fast. That's not generosity. That's him remembering something oddly specific that came out of your mouth on a random day."
"That does not mean anything." Minju's face heated immediately.
Yunah stared at her as the expression on her face turned into the blank one her friend always used.
"It's very surprising how long you've gotten when you are this dense."
"I am not dense." Minju gasped.
Yunah let out a laugh so loud that one of the employees glanced over in concern.
"You absolutely are," she said, wiping at the corner of her eye. "You're academically gifted yet socially...dense."
Minju stood from her seat again, glaring as Yunah approached her..
"Let me ask you something," Yunah said.
"No."
"You don't even know the question."
"And yet I still know I won't like it."
Yunah ignored her.
"When he gave you those flowers, did you throw them away?"
"No." Minju's lips pressed themselves together.
"Did you leave them somewhere in your room and forget about them?"
"Oh my god," Yunah whispered like she had uncovered government secrets. "You kept them somewhere special."
"I did not."
"Minju."
"They're on my desk." she groaned.
Yunah continued to stare at her.
"They're on my desk," she repeated through gritted teeth. "And before you say anything, it's only because throwing them away felt wasteful."
"You stare at them before bed, don't you?" Minju gasped at how easy she was to figure out. "I hate talking to you."
"You like him." Yunah said, looking far too pleased with herself.
"No." Minju immediately shook her head.
"You do."
"No."
"You are literally blushing."
"It's just hot in here."
"We're standing in a place with air conditioning."
She scoffed as turned back toward the mirror and stared at her reflection.
The teal dress really did look nice and it was unfortunate because now she actually looked like someone attending prom with the possibility of being looked at by everyone else.
Her fingers lightly touched the frills of her dress.
"What if I look ridiculous?" she asked quietly.
"You don't." Yunah's teasing softened almost instantly.
"That's easy for you to say."
"No, Minju," Yunah said gently. "You really don't."
Minju met her eyes through the mirror.
Yunah smiled, "You look beautiful."
Just like that, all of Minju's sharp yet sarcastic defenses seemed to fade away.
Her shoulders relaxed, only slightly.
"And when (YN) sees you during prom, I hope he forgets how to breathe." Yunah immediately continued.
"Yah! Noh Yunah!" Minju nearly slipped on the platform.
"What? That's supposed to be a good thing."
"It is not a good thing if he actually passes out and dies in front of me."
"Fair point. That would ruin the mood." Yunah shrugged.
Minju turned to look at herself in the mirror once again. The skirt of the dress pooled around her shoes as she held them.
For a moment, she simply stared.
"This still feels weird." She narrowed her eyes at her reflection.
Yunah laughed from behind her. "Looking pretty?"
"No, that's normal. I always look pretty." Minju flicked some strands of her hair behind her.
Yunah tried to hold in her laugh before it bursted right out of her.
"Oh my god," She wheezed through a breath.
"Why are you laughing like you're choking?" Minju raised a brow at her friend.
Yunah clutched her stomach dramatically as she tried and failed to recover.
"You said that with a completely straight face."
"Because it's true."
"That might be the most confidence you've shown all year."
She rolled her eyes and stepped off the platform carefully before one of her sneakers slipped on seemingly air and almost sent her crashing into a rack of expensive dresses.
"Yeah, shown a lot of confidence with that one." Yunah was practically folded in half now, laughing so hard she had tears gathering in her eyes.
The rack of expensive dresses trembled violently as Minju grabbed it on instinct, saving both herself and a hundred thousand won worth of fabric from falling to the floor.
The heat started to build up around the rest of her face as Yunah gathered herself somehow and helped her up.
"If you're gonna break the dress already, at least go to prom first."
"I meant to do that," she said immediately.
"Yeah, yeah, just go get changed again then we could head home."
Minju released the dress rack slowly, using the thought of home to hide her embarrassment.
Once she had her footing, she muttered under her breath the entire way back to the fitting room.
I hate this.
Why is this dress so stupidly long?
I should've stayed home and done literally anything else.
As Minju stepped out of the fitting room, finally dressed in her usual clothes again and no longer one misstep away from ruining the entire store, Yunah waited for her in front of the register with the dress already protected under a plastic sheet.
"What are you doing? I've already decided that I'm not going."
Yunah smiled politely at the woman across the counter. "Ignore her. She says that every fifteen minutes or so."
"I'm serious this time."
"Yeah but you were serious the other times too."
Yunah handed over her card before Minju could reach out and stop.
The machine beeped, and soon after payment was accepted for the both of them.
Just like that, Minju's fate was sealed with one very cheerful receipt.
The employee handed over the garment bag with a smile. "I hope both of you enjoy prom."
Minju forced out something of a smile as gratitude while she imagined herself leaving already internally.
The moment they stepped outside, the cool evening air hit her face.
She inhaled deeply.
The city streets glowed under streetlights while people walked past carrying an assortment of things, shopping bags, purses and backpacks as they traveled through the sidewalk.
Yunah bumped her shoulder lightly, their bags tapping each other in the process.
Minju looked between them before looking away.
"Thanks for the dress." She mumbled.
"No problem! That's what friends with rich parents are for."
Minju let out a quiet scoff.
"That sounds unbelievably spoiled when you say it out loud."
"What? It's true." Yunah gasped loudly. "My mom said if I was going to spoil myself, I might as well do the same for my friends."
Minju rolled her eyes before she started down the sidewalk. Yunah soon followed her footsteps that led them to the nearest bus stop.
Along their little stroll, Minju had fallen quiet though that wasn't that much different to what she normally did but her friend felt something was off in her silence.
She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you silent?"
"Were you expecting me to start freestyling to keep the conversation going? Minju answered sharply.
Yunah chuckled as she shook her head. "Anyways, I was just wondering..." she said, moving on to something new.
"What if he asks you to dance?"
Minju stopped walking so abruptly that someone behind her nearly walked into her.
"What?"
Yunah turned around slowly, entirely too pleased with herself.
"At prom."
"I heard you."
"Then why do you look like your soul just left your body?"
Minju swallowed a breath then she started walking again at a pace that looked suspiciously like fleeing her question.
"That won't happen."
"You sound very sure." Yunah matched her pace.
"Because he would never ask me."
"And why not?"
"Because..." she started before she softened. "Because why would he? He's this outgoing, social butterfly that anybody could just walk to and I'm just...Minju."
"Saying that as if you didn't just call yourself pretty earlier." Yunah replied quickly after.
Minju froze on the spot as her breath stopped midway down her throat.
After another chuckle, her teasing expression softened slightly.
"You know," Yunah said quietly, "sometimes I think you're the only person who doesn't realize how much he likes being around you."
Minju laughed once in disbelief.
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"He waits for you after class."
"That's because our classrooms are right next to each other."
"He bought your favorite snacks that one time."
"It isn't my fault he also likes the same flavor of chips and bought one too many."
"He remembers things you say that even you forget saying," Yunah continued.
Minju opened her mouth as she remembered the bouquet sitting on her desk.
"That proves nothing." she finally said after another moment.
"Minju." Yunah gave her a long look.
"What?"
"He bought you crocheted flowers."
"That is just a one time thing..."
"He bought them because you said people spend money on things that wilt after a week," Yunah said in one breath, "That's not something who just wants to be friends with you would do!"
Minju turned to face her, brows burrowed in slightly. "I remembered other things he says but I also remember things you say and all of our other friends said, it isn't unusual to do so."
Once Yunah was shut down, she turned to take more steps down the sidewalk.
"Then what about the way he looks at you?" She heard her say from behind.
Minju froze on the spot yet again.
She didn't turn around and she didn't breathe right away either.
"In what way?" she asked, but it came out softer than she intended as if it was from her own curiosity than to retort
Behind her, Yunah didn't answer immediately.
"The way he looks at you," she repeated, slower this time, "likeâlike he was always only looking at the moon in the sky and not the miniscule stars around it."
Minju let out another short and disbelieving scoff.
"That sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale."
Yunah gave a small, almost helpless laugh, like she knew exactly how ridiculous it sounded and still meant every word anyway.
"It is," she said simply. "That's kind of the problem."
Minju finally turned her head a little, just enough to glance back.
"You're saying things like that again," she muttered. "You're going to make me regret accepting that dress."
"No, you're going to regret not noticing things sooner," Yunah corrected.
Minju scoffed, but it came out weaker this time. "There's nothing to notice." she continued on, approaching the blue-roofed bus stop down the sidewalk.
Yunha quickly caught up with her, matching her pace before she asked another question.
"When he looks at you...do you really not notice it?"
Minju's steps slowed again.
Streetlights painted soft light across the sidewalk while cars passed in one by one beside them. Somewhere nearby, teenagers laughed too loudly outside a convenience store. The world kept moving as if Minju's heart hadn't suddenly decided to perform cartwheels against her ribs.
She tightened her grip around the bag she was holding.
Minju sighed through her nose.
"Ofâof course I notice when people look at me," she said carefully.
Yunah tilted her head. "And?"
"And..." Minju hesitated as she realized the problem.
The problem was that she noticed everything.
The way your eyes always found her first in crowded classrooms.
The way your expression softened whenever she rambled about things she claimed not to care about or when she was proclaiming to the world how much she hated you.
The way you looked proud whenever she succeeded at something as if her achievements somehow belonged to you too.
The way your gaze lingered just a little too long sometimes before you awkwardly looked elsewhere.
And the worst part?
She noticed how her stomach flipped every single time.
Minju stared ahead at the bus stop.
âI thinkâŠâ she said, softening her voice. âI think he looks at me like Iâm worth more than what I am.â
The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could grab them out of the air and shove them back where they came from.
âThatâs not a good thing,â she added after a moment, more to herself than to Yunah. Â
Yunah glanced at her. âWhy not?â
âI justâŠâ she started, then stopped before she tried again. âI donât know what heâs seeing when he looks at me like that.âÂ
The girl next to her exhaled softly, like sheâd been holding it in for a while.Â
They walked under the bus stop.
Minju took a seat first before Yunah sat down next to her.
âDo you think heâs wrong for looking at you like that?â she asked, placing the bag over her lap.
Minju hesitated, âI donât know,â she admitted. Then, almost stubbornly, she added, âMaybe he is.âÂ
Yunah hummed softly, her voice carried by the soft breeze that blew by. The light above them flickered then steadied. She leaned back slightly, letting the bench creak under her weight.
âI think I know what you're afraid of.â she finally said.Â
Minju looked over with the sides of her eyes.
âYou're afraid of someone actually seeing you and for them to actually care.â Yunah said in a single breath.Â
She heard a scoff beside her.
âSince when were you this poetic?â Minju mumbled before she felt a soft shove against her elbow. She rubbed the spot slowly.
âSeriously though,â Yunah leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees. âYouâre scared that if you believe he likes you and youâre wrong, youâll feel stupid.â
âThatâsââ Minju tried to retort.
Keyword, tried.
Her shoulders eased either in defeat or they also grew tired of her hiding behind herself.
âI just think,â she said quietly, âthat he'll just leave after he realises I'm not as interesting as he thought.â
Minjuâs eyes dropped to the floor.
âMy grades are good.â
âI know how to make myself useful.â
âI know how to be someone people can rely on.â
Minju looked up at the traffic in front of them.
âBut when thatâs goneâŠâ
She swallowed hard.
âWhatâs left?â
Yunah looked at her like she couldnât believe Minju could sound like this.
âWhatâs left?â she repeated softly.
âMhm, yeah.â
Yunah reached over and flicked Minjuâs forehead.
âOuch!â
âWhatâs left,â Yunah said, ignoring her glare, âis the girl who argues with teachers when they grade unfairly.â
Minju blinked at her.
âThe girl who pretends she hates helping the younger years but somehow always does when they ask, even if it's the simplest thing.â
âThe girl who acts annoyed when her friends call her crying at two in the morning but still picks up every single time.â
Minju stared at her.
âAnd the girl who should come out of hiding and face her feelings head on.â Yunah smiled softly.
The bus stop fell quiet around them.
A bus roared past without stopping, wind following behind it hard enough to push loose strands of Minjuâs hair across her face. She tucked them behind her ear absentmindedly.
Yunah smiled softly at her then her expression relaxed again.
âIt shouldn't be that easy.â Her head dropped again. âWhen people like you,â Minju said softly, eyes fixed on the pavement below her shoes, âthereâs always a version of you they like first.â
âThe useful version.â
âThe smart version.â
âThe version that gets things done.â
Minju laughed bitterly under her breath.
âAnd when they find out youâre actually difficult or insecure or annoying or that sometimes you say the wrong things and push people away before they can leave firstâŠâ
Her throat tightened.
âThey leave anyway.â
Yunah stared at her friend like she was seeing a side of Minju had been pushed away for years.
She reached over and grabbed Minjuâs hand, warmly and sincerely.
âHe already sees those parts.â
âWhat?â Minju blinked.
Yunah squeezed her hand.
âHeâs seen you snap at people, seen you overthink, seen you act like you hate compliments and seen how cranky you are before tests.â
A reluctant laugh escaped Minju before she could stop it.
Yunah smiled softly at the sound like she had been waiting for it.
âAnd he still stayed.â
Minjuâs smile slowly disappeared.
âHe stayed after all of your bad moods, he stayed after your sharp words, he stayed after every opportunity he had to lose interest.â
Her voice softened again.
"And he still stayed, didn't he?"
Minju looked away first, her ears beginning to burn. She leaned back against the bench and looked up at the night sky.
There werenât many visible stars tonight, just the moon still shining brightly high above the city.
Against all logic, her thoughts drifted back to you.
Your laugh.
Your stupidly kind face.
The way you looked at her like she was something soft enough to protect and strong enough to admire at the same time.
âSo what if he asks me to dance?â she whispered.
Yunah turned so fast she nearly fell off the bench with a gasp.
âSo you are imagining it!â
Minju groaned immediately. âWhy are you yelling?â
âBecause you want him to dance with you!â
âI said what if. That is not the same thing.â
âIf he asks you to danceââ Yunah grabbed both of her shoulders dramatically.Â
âHe wonât.â
âand thatâs a very weak if, because I just know he willââ
âYunah.â
âYOU are going to say yes.â
âI donât dance.â Minju stared at her as if she was speaking in another language.
âYou just sway awkwardly for three minutes and it'll all be over. Thatâs literally all slow dancing is, you just do the dance!â
âThat sounds horrifying.â
Yunah rolled her eyes.
âAnd despite that, I think a tiny part of you wants it to happen.â
Minju looked away first, not wanting to give her friend any more fuel for her teasing.
As if it were on cue, their bus pulled up with a loud screech.
The doors pushed themselves open.
Minju stood up from the seat first.
âGo on, be careful on your way home.â Yunah said, standing up right after her. âIâll take a cab back to my parentâs place.âÂ
Minju hesitated before the first step.
Just a small pause, right there at the edge of the bus door, like her body had briefly forgotten which direction it was supposed to go.Â
ââŠyou too,â she muttered, not quite turning around.
Yunah smiled, raising a hand at her. âText me when you get home.â
âI always do.â
âI know. I just like saying it.â
Minju rolled her eyes at her then finally stepped onto the bus.
-
"I'm home!"
Minju closed the door behind her with a heel and locked it soon after.
Her voice echoed faintly throughout the house with no response coming from any corner.
She wasn't expecting any different.
Her mother often worked late shifts at the hospital as one of the nurses going through the halls and going room to room while her father usually didn't come home until long after midnight if he was buried under paperwork at the firm.
The apartment was quiet in the familiar way that felt neither lonely nor comforting.
It was just the way it normally was.
Minju slipped off her shoes near the entrance and lined them up neatly against the wall out of habit before dragging herself further inside.
She walked through the dark living room and to the kitchen where she turned on the lights.
Moments after, her footsteps carried her up the stairs and towards her room where she pushed the door open and flicked open the light switch for her to see the lightly pink walls and her bed that had sheets and pillows of the same color scheme.
She placed the bag over her bed and walked to the long mirror that stood beside her closet. Leaning in, she took a closer look at herself, carefully pushing some strands of hair behind her ear.
Minju grabbed a plush headband that hung from the side as she slowly got started with her nightly routine that she had done plenty of times before.
She began with a warm bath then began applying all of the facial products she needed in front of the mirror.
When she was back in her room, she quickly got changed before heading downstairs for her dinner.
The soft whirring of the microwave echoed through the home as Minju leaned against the counter waiting for the small cup of instant noodles to finish cooking.
This was how her nights normally went when both of her parents were still out by nighttime.
Not that she minded though, of course.
That was what she always told herself.
She thrived in silence anyways, that was where she felt mostly like herself. She could make noise all she wanted, make whatever she wanted to eat, accidentally drop a pan or two, shout down the halls and watch the TV loudly with no repercussions.
But sometimes, she wouldn't have minded it.
She wouldn't have minded if she came home to a freshly cooked meal.
She wouldn't have minded if someone asked how her day was.
She wouldn't have minded if someone asked how the dress looked on her.
DING!
The microwave came to an abrupt stop as the light inside died.
Minju stared at its small window for a moment before pushing herself off the counter.
The cup was warm in her hands as she peeled back the lid.
Steam rose upward, fogging her vision for half a second before disappearing just as quickly.
She grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer and made her way back to her room.
Placing it over her desk, she crouched down under the table and after a couple of plugs being pushed into sockets, the computer whirred to life.
The screen blinked awake as it transitioned to her home screen.
Minju pulled herself back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she stirred her noodles absentmindedly. Her desk was cluttered in the very specific way only her desk could be, stacks of neatly highlighted notes, pens sorted by color., sticky notes with deadlines scribbled across them, a half-finished worksheet she had promised herself she would complete tonight.
She looked right beside her lamp, her eyes narrowed.
The crocheted flowers still sat where she last placed them, inside a glass cup she had stolen from the kitchen because she refused to admit she needed somewhere "proper" to put them.
The soft yarn petals were still perfectly intact.
Minju let out a dramatic sigh before taking a bite of noodles, reaching over to her mouse and clicked some apps open allowing her to spend time on another hobby of hers.
Video games.
She continued eating as a queue continued to count upwards on her screen.
She was almost finished with the cup of noodles when the words popped up on her screen.
'Match Found!'
"Finally." Minju straightened in her chair immediately, nearly dropping her chopsticks onto her keyboard.
She clicked accept without hesitation, adjusting her headset over her ears as the loading screen appeared. The game music swelled dramatically through her headphones while usernames slowly populated the lobby.
Sometimes, this was better than what real life had to offer because games are wonderfully simple.
You either won, lost or drew.
You either carry your team or watch them make decisions so catastrophically stupid that it makes you wonder how they managed to survive crossing a road in real life.
Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard as the match officially began after bans and picking which champion to use.
-
The game went on as usual, taking most of Minju's focus.
Beside her keyboard was where her phone was, laying with a dark screen before it suddenly buzzed to life.
The vibration cut through the low hum of her computer.
Minju didn't notice it at first.
She was mid-fight, her fingers were prepared on her skills, eyes sharp, posture leaning forward like she could physically intimidate the enemies to feed their gold into her.
But then it buzzed again, then again and one more to fully gain her attention.
"That better not be Yunah."
She dodged another attack before quickly glancing down.
Her phone screen lit up and her entire body froze.
Your name with three unread messages.
Her character stopped moving entirely.
Which proved to be a catastrophic decision.
You have been slain.
Minju looked at the grayed screen in front of her with the timer ticking down.
With a disgruntled sigh, she picked up her phone to finally read what you had sent her way.
Her respawn timer continued ticking down in the corner of her monitor.
"What kind of question is that?"
She stared at the screen.
Was this normal?
Did people text each other about prom so casually?
Was there a hidden meaning?
Was he asking if she had a dress?
If she had plans?
Worse, what if he was going to ask if she had a date?
Her champion respawned but she didn't move.
She picked up her phone for a moment.
Three little dots appeared on her screen immediately.
Her eyes narrowed themselves.
The phone buzzed again.
Just like that, her stomach dropped.
For a second, Minju genuinely considered throwing her phone across the room. Instead, she stared at the message so hard it nearly burned into her retinas.
Hesitantly, she typed right back.
Minju stared at your reply in complete disbelief.
"What." her eyebrows slowly furrowed.
Was that really it?
Was that all you were going to say after causing her entire body to freeze in place?
Her phone remained still in her hand before her attention was pulled back by the familiar pinging sound. Her eyes drifted back to her screen where multiple question marks started appearing around her character.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." Minju mumbled, placing the phone down and already reaching back for her mouse.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Minju didn't look at it.
Actually, she refused to look at it.
Her eyes stayed glued to her monitor, fingers snapping back into motion as if nothing had happened.
A picture passed through her imagination right after, one that was you staring up at your phone and waiting for her reply.
Maybe you were looking at your phone with stupid puppy dog eyes that would have totally worked on her.
Her jaw tightened.
No, she would have to reply to you right after the game.
She wasn't going to reward you for appearing out of nowhere, make her mind race just from one message then cower back to whatever hole you crawled out of.
Minju clicked furiously around her screen.
And after multiple team fights around the map, across the three lanes and inside towers, the victory carefully materialized itself on her screen.
Her phone buzzed a couple more times through all of it and she was proud enough of herself to not check it even once.
She reached for her cup of noodles instead only to discover the broth had gone cold.
Finally, she picked up her phone again and opened them to see the messages you've left.
And just like that, all of her irritation dissolved and so did most of her curiosity.
"...idiot." she mumbled.
Minju stood up from her seat, contemplating whether to still type up a reply.
Then she heard a sound from downstairs.
A rhythmic tapping against metal that echoed softly through the gap she'd left open on her door.
She was sure that she locked the front door when she got back and she was even more sure that neither of her parents left anything else open downstairs.
But still considering that she was home alone, she couldn't help but feel hesitant.
"What's that?" she dropped her arms back to her side, fingers grazing the screen lightly enough to tap the phone icon over your profile.
Then she walked out of her room.
-
Across the city, you stood inside of your room. Your hand rubbed a towel over your damp hair from the warm shower you just got out of.
Your phone vibrated suddenly against the pillow you left it on.
For half a second, you just stared at the screen.
You pressed it against your ear, towel still hanging around your neck while water dripped from the ends of your hair onto the floor unnoticed.
"Hello?"
From the other side of the call, you could faintly hear the faint sound of her footsteps.
"Hello?" you said again, a bit louder this time.
Silence followed until you heard a loud creak of metal come from her end.
"It was just the tap." Minju spoke, voice full of relief.
The girl stood in the kitchen, hand having just pushed up the faucet and oblivious to what was going on with her phone.
"Park Minju!"
The girl turned around the empty home, startled by the voice of someone calling her name. Looking across the dim living room to each dark corner, she could've swore she didn't imagine it.
"What the hell?" her grip on the phone tightened instantly.
"MINJU." On the other end of the call, you nearly choked.
She looked down to her hand as the realization slowly and painfully set in.
"Did you call me?" she asked, pressing the phone to her ear.
"WhatâNo, you were the one who called me!"
"That must've been some kind of mistake," Minju scoffed. "I didn't call you."
"Well that's weird, I specifically remember seeing your contact calling my phone."
"Then it was an accident, that's all." She looked at her screen, "I'll hang up now, bye."
"Minjuâwait!"
"...What." Her thumb hovered over the screen.
"What were you doing just now?" you asked quickly, words almost tumbling out of you.
Minju caught up half a second too late.
"Why are you asking?"
"I don't know, you seemed a little spooked when I picked up the call so I was wondering."
"It's nothing, I've already dealt with it. Is that all? Goodnight."
"Waitâwait! Maybe we could...talk for a bit." your voice trailed off on the line.
Minju's entire body went still.
The kitchen suddenly felt far too quiet.
The refrigerator hummed softly somewhere behind her. The clock seemingly ticked on louder than it was before. And through the phone pressed against her ear, your voice waited carefully on the other side with one foot tapping against your floor.
Talk?
For a bit?
Her first instinct immediately set in and almost acted on its own.
No.
Absolutely not.
Because talking to you for "a bit" somehow always became twenty minutes of bickering, accidentally saying something she shouldn't have, laughing at things she pretended weren't funny, and hanging up feeling strangely lighter afterward.
Yet.
"What do you wanna talk about then?" Minju leaned one shoulder against the kitchen counter, narrowing her eyes at absolutely nothing.
"Prom's soon, maybe that."
Minju immediately regretted asking.
Because now the topic somehow materialized itself in front of her again.
Prom.
She was once again reminded of that stupid dance occupying half the school's collective brain cells. The same event everyone kept talking about like it was some life-changing cinematic experience instead of awkward teenagers renting fancy clothes to stand around under dim lighting and pretend they knew how to dance.
"That sounds terrible already," she muttered.
You laughed quietly through the phone. "You haven't even heard what I was gonna say."
"I heard enough."
She wandered slowly out of the kitchen and into the living room, phone tucked against her ear while her feet dragged lazily across the floor.
On your side of the call, you dropped onto the edge of your bed with the towel still hanging around your shoulders.
"So," you started carefully, "are you excited for it?"
"No."
"That answer came out way too fast."
She sank onto the couch eventually, curling one leg underneath herself.
"I just don't really get the hype," she continued. "Everyone's acting like it's some grand and magical ball. And everybody's going in their own carriages with big dresses and flashy suits."
"Were you just describing Cinderella?"
"Shut it."
You laughed again.
That stupid laugh.
Minju stared blankly at the ceiling while listening to it fade through the speaker.
A short silence settled between you afterward. It wasn't awkward, it was simply silence shared across the line.
It wasn't long before you broke it though.
"Do you already have someone you're going with?"
She heard the question a second too late and didn't know how to act.
"Why?" she asked carefully.
"I was just wondering. Because if you wereâ"
"No," she answered quickly, too fast to sound casual. "I'm not going with anyone."
From your side, your shoulders loosened from the tension forming in them before you even noticed.
"Really?"
Minju frowned immediately. "Why do you sound relieved?"
"I don't sound relieved."
"You absolutely do sound relieved."
"I do not."
"You do."
You let out an exasperated breath through the speaker. "Fine. Maybe a little."
Her stomach flipped so suddenly she nearly hated herself for it.
Minju pressed her lips together hard.
"But why were you asking?"
For once, you didn't dodge the question because across the city, sitting at the edge of your bed with damp hair and your heartbeat trying to punch through your ribs, you figured you had already come this far.
"Because I wanted to ask if maybe you'd go with me and maybe save me a dance?"
Everything inside Minju stopped.
Inside her chest was nothing for a moment, absolute silence for one terrifying second then it all came at once.
Heat rushed straight to her face so fast she physically covered her mouth with her hand despite the fact you couldn't even see her.
You continued before she could respond. Probably because you were panicking too now.
"Not like a huge thing or anything," you rambled quickly. "And I know you said you hate prom and dancing and basically joy itself but I just thought maybe since we'd probably end up talking to each other there anyway and we already know each other and you wouldn't have to deal with random people asking you and I just thought maybe it'd be easier if we went together and I'm talking too much now, aren't I?"
The silence that followed almost killed you before you faintly heard something from her.
A short breath, one where you weren't sure if she laughed, sighed or scoffed.
"Idiot..."
"Wâwhat?" you replied.
Minju slowly lowered her hand from her mouth though the heat in her face refused to disappear.
Her heart was beating so loudly now that she didn't know what to do with it.
How was she supposed to respond to that?
She pressed her lips together harder.
"Okay." she finally said.
"What was that? What did you just say?" you replied quickly, fumbling over your words.
"I said okay, I'll go with you. It's not like I have anybody else. Dancing on the other hand, I'll have to think about it."
"...Wait seriously?"
The sheer disbelief in your voice made Minju's eyes roll over themselves.
"No, I just said yes for fun," she replied, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. "Obviously seriously."
"I thought you were gonna reject me."
"I almost did."
"Thankfully you didn't change your mind."
A laugh escaped you then, like you were finally able to laugh without weights over your shoulders.
And annoyingly enough, hearing it did something strange to her heartbeat again.
Minju reached up and pressed the back of her hand against her cheek.
It was still warm.
"So this means you're my prom date now?" you asked carefully as if you still didn't fully believe it.
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what?"
"Like..." she faltered immediately. "Like that."
You grinned despite her not being able to see it. "You're blushing, aren't you?"
"I hate you."
"That means yes."
"It means shut up."
Your laughter crackled through the speaker again, turning the quiet apartment into something softer around the edges. The living room no longer felt so hollow now. The ticking clock faded behind the sound of your voice.
Minju stared at the dark ceiling above her.
"So," you started again after calming down, "does this mean I get to know what dress you picked?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll see it at prom."
"Right, guess I'll just have to wait and see."
Minju hummed through the line.
You snorted quietly, changing the topic. "You know, I was actually trying to ask you earlier through text."
"Then you cowered away?"
"No, it's just that." you started, "I just thought that if you heard it come from me directly, you wouldn't think of it as me joking around."
Minju's expression softened before she could stop it
The teasing reply she already had prepared dissipated.
Because somehow, underneath all your awkward rambling and stumbling over words, she understood exactly what you meant.
If it came through text, she probably would have overanalyzed it.
If it came through text, she might have convinced herself you were joking.
Hearing your voice now in its slightly breathless and embarrassingly sincere way through the speaker, made it impossible to misunderstand.
"Well, are you?" she asked more as a rhetorical question than anything else.
"What? Noâof course not."
Minju let out a soft chuckle.
"I'm glad you called and asked though."
"Well, technically you called first."
"It was an accident."
"There are no such things as accidents onlyâ"
"I'm hanging up now."
"Okay, okay, fine." you replied with a groan. "So um...I guess I'll see you then?"
Minju tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she stared across the darkened living room.
"Yeah," she answered quietly. "I guess you will."
On your side, you leaned your head back against the wall behind your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with the kind of stupid grin that would've absolutely gotten you ridiculed if Minju could see it right now.
"Cool," you replied, and somehow even that one word sounded too happy as you said it.
Minju rolled her eyes instinctively yet the corners of her mouth betrayed her again anyway.
"You sound ridiculous."
"You agreed to go to prom with me. I think I've earned sounding ridiculous."
"I could always back out."
"Yeah right."
A quiet scoff escaped her.
Her home felt less lonely with your voice lingering through the speaker, with the warmth still sitting stubbornly in her cheeks and with the realization that somewhere across the city, you were probably smiling like an idiot because of her.
Minju shifted on the couch, pulling her knees closer to herself.
"You better not step on my shoes during the dance," she mumbled.
Your laugh burst through the phone instantly. "So you are considering the dance."
"I said maybe."
"I'm counting that as a yes."
She hated how easily you answered that.
For a moment, neither of you spoke again.
Minju then glanced toward the clock and sighed through her nose.
"It's late."
"Yeah," you murmured. "It is. We should get some sleep"
Neither of you hung up immediately.
"Goodnight, Minju."
Her heartbeat stumbled again at the softness in your voice.
"Goodnight..." she pulled the phone away first.
The call ended and suddenly the house became quiet again.
Minju stared down at the dark screen in her hand for a long moment before slowly pushing herself off the couch and making her way back upstairs.
The hallway lights cast soft shadows across the walls as she walked, her phone still loosely held in her hand while her heartbeat stubbornly refused to settle down completely.
Back inside her room, the light escaped through the small gap she had left behind. On her table, the crocheted flowers remained beside her lamp beside the rest of her cluttered things exactly where she left them.
Minju glanced at them briefly before dropping onto the edge of her bed.
Prom still sounded exhausting.
The loud music.
The crowded gym.
The dancing.
She still thought most of it was overrated.
Yet for the first time since everyone couldn't stop talking about it, the thought of going didn't seem completely unbearable anymore.
Maybe there was finally a reason to look forward to it after all.
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College classes are bullshit, you thought as you stared at your phone screen, class schedule on display. Not living in the city, you took a two-hour commute â every day â just to arrive for one class thatâs only for an hour. An hour. Then itâs the same stupid commute home at 8. Thatâs it. For the majority of the week.
For Fridays and Saturdays? Oh yeah, theyâre fine, most definitely.
âChrist, 7 to 7 on Fridays and Saturdays?â, you whined out loud. You swiped a few more at the screen in disbelief, hoping it was a glitch, just a minor typographical error by some overworked coffee-for-blood intern half-asleep over the keyboard. But no. An internship at the local clinic, and four hours of a course on clinical research and ethics. 7 to 7. You heaved a sigh and tightened the straps of your backpack. Why they couldnât put some of the classes during your weekdays is a mystery as clear as muddy water.
Finally leaving the ornamental front gate of your college campus, you trudged along a brick path that ran alongside different shops and stalls that were neatly positioned just before the train station. You pass by different hobby shops, neat textile stands, and a couple of establishments you havenât got the time or the money to try.
You reached the last stand of food and saw beside it a newly opened cafe, complete with a jazzy new logo, neat brutalist walls, and those hip, one-word, obscure names all cafes seem to have nowadays: Fors. Its grey walls seemed to hold more life inside as you peeked into the windows beside the main entrance. Orange lights and the buzz of customers gave the cafe that inviting feeling of stepping into something new, despite its seemingly uninviting exterior. You decided to indulge in that, thinking of buying a small pastry for the road.
The cafe wasnât all that big, situated on this gravel lot with a neat side garden facing the street, but it definitely maximized the space. Brick stepstones were inlaid to lead to the heavy wood-and-glass door, with its sleek black âWelcomeâ sign hanging. The larger cement wall extended to the right of the door, sporting this large, seamless circular window, its wedges smoothed out to serve as momentary seating or a place to take a photo, as the neat sidewalks and the bunched-up shops outside, with the shadow of the nearby bridge, serving as the background.
Your feet crunched on the gravel as you took the brick path towards the door. Fixing and undoing your pack straps, you pushed the door inward. The bell overhead rang. The staff, all clad in matching navy blue polo shirts and cream-colored aprons, looked toward the entryway and offered a warm welcome. Fors was a spacious cafe, its cashier and brewing station situated to your left atop slabs of the same cement. Just past the cashier was the cold glass display, chock-full of illuminated pastries and cakes, each with its price. To the right of the cashier and pastry area was the front-of-house. It was designed to be sunken, so there was a small downstep to reach the various chairs and tables for customers. Off to the side, where the large circular window had been, were these velvet couches and small coffee tables, basking in the natural light. On the opposite, far end of that were more tables distributed evenly, orbiting the cafeâs large shelves filled with books. The sconces attached to the walls leaked out the same orange light that caught your attention, tying all the elements together cohesively.
To be truthful, you werenât a big fan of cafes. More specifically, you werenât a big fan of how cafes tried hard to be âcommercially uniqueâ, going so far as to rename the sizes of coffee cups or complicate coffee orders with a dash of this or that, a dollop of foreign syrup, a shot of exotic bean grounds. You had your gripes, too, with this new wave of muted, minimalist, and sleek aesthetic that all cafes seem to go for nowadays. Youâd always wonder which Heaven a cafeâs soul goes to whenever it loses its life and trades it for cold, stone floors.Â
However, you never turned down a good old croissant. Itâs simple, not too crazy â plain. Seizing the moment, you walked to the cashier and placed your order.
âWould you like a regular coffee with that, Sir? It comes in three sizes, Micro, Mean, and Maxim,â the young female barista pointed up at the overhead menu with the drink sizing.
âYeah, Iâll have theâŠuhâŠthe Mean.â You cursed internally.
âOkay, thatâll be $25.50.â
I will never return here, you thought as you weakly handed over your card. After a few taps and prints, you took it back alongside the warm croissant and ventured down towards the seats.
Scanning the area, most customers were seated near the circular window, hoping to get a shot for Instagram or whatever. So you walk past them and take a window-side wood seat with a small square table. Comparatively, this window was a bit dirtier, with blurry fingerprints streaking and dotting the pane.
âGuess they neglected you, huh, buddy?â You softly asked the window, pulling out the seat. âWell, donât worry, Iâm not much for circle windows,â you whispered as you finally sat down to wait for your coffee.
âYou usually talk to inanimate objects, or just windows?â
On the table directly in front of you, nearer to the books, there was a woman. Fair. Olive-shaped face. A gentle and delicate nose with a smooth bridge. Subtle smirk. Silky deep-brown locks styled in a wolfcut that flowed just down to her shoulders. Time-stopping.
âNo, justâjust windowsâŠâ You sighed.
The womanâs gaze was sharp. You felt it cut you four different ways as she scanned your appearance, searching forâŠsomething. The slicing ceased as her gaze fell back down to the opened laptop in front of her.
You gulped a bit as you shifted in your seat, uncomfortable with the sudden connection this stranger initiated. But hey, with a knockout of a woman such as her, you found it hard to complain. She sat down like grace and hard work combined, a delicate posture accenting the way her fingers typed swiftly, her eyes twinkling from the laptop light. She seemed around your age, with smooth skin sculpting and defining her cheeks and neck, with waves of her hair flowing downwards in subtle curls.
âYou usually stare this long at strangers?â she piped up again, never taking her eyes off the laptop screen.
You cursed under your breath. âNo, I-Iâm sorry, I didnât mean to. Thatâs weird,â you said with a shift of your head away from her general direction.Â
What is wrong with me? You thought. Your heart raced just looking at the woman; any longer and youâd die. But fuck, this girlâs beautiful, you awed silently.Â
And so, like addiction and relapse and all that, your gaze flowed and waned, wandering and detouring, but ultimately landing back on her.Â
Her brow was raised, still immersed in whatever she had on that laptop. Her eyes narrowed a bit further. Then it happened. Seemingly frustrated, her nose scrunched like something she didnât mean to do and instantly corrected. The crinkles at the top of her nose bridge eased as her expression settled. It happened for a split second, but you caught it.
Then you felt a slash, the gash quickly rising from your arms and up to your face. Warmth flushed your cheek. Her almond eyes lacerated you. You were leveled.
You nervously smiled, getting caught again. You fiddled with the complimentary Fors creamer and sugar, hoping that mindless actions would undo the last three minutes of awkwardness. You drummed the table a bit, conveniently looking to the counter, waiting for this dumb century-long coffee.Â
Coffee beans mustâve still been harvested from exotic red-soil countries, you mused.
The woman suddenly stood up, chair whining against the floor. Grabbing her sling bag and books in one hand, and holding the corner of her still open laptop with the other, she strode shortly and stopped at your table. She set her belongings on the table, occupying more than half of your table space, and sat directly in front of you, resuming her nonchalant typing, not even acknowledging you with brief eye contact.
âUhâŠâ
âItâs self-service.â
âExcuse me?â
The woman nodded to the cashier. âThatâs probably your coffee right now, cooling away.â Right enough, your eyes found a pastel grey mug sitting alone on the countertop.
âExcuse me,â you said with a half-hearted smile as you peel away from the table. And so you walked over, grabbed your now less-hot-than-desirable coffee, and stopped just before you reached your table. The woman still sat there.Â
Okay, Iâm still in it, you rejoiced silently.
You took a seat again, placing the coffee just beside your croissant and the newly placed leather books. You craned your neck subtly, trying to read the titles on the spines.
âLaw books,â she answered.
âLaw student,â you responded in understanding.
So she was older, you thought.
She gave a nod as you took a seat, trepidation hanging over you as you thought of how to fill the silence.
âGot a paper due?â you asked meekly.Â
âA digest, yeah.â
âCool, cool,â you said with a sip of your coffee.
âYou?â
âMe?â
âYour major.â
âGotcha. Iâm a nursing student.â
âHm. Younger.â
âWell, not that young,â you replied sheepishly.
âYoung enough.â
âI mean, itâs not like weâre ages apart,â you replied. âYouâre what, four years ahead?â
âFlattering, but no. Iâm 37,â she winced.Â
You almost spat out your coffee. âShut up.â
That made the corner of her lips lift a bit, and her face rose to look up at you instead of her work. The edge of her gaze stung less.
âYup, 37. Majored in Poli Sci. Left for a bit. Came back.â
âBut you lookâŠâ You pointed at all of her.
âYes?â
âAbsolutely not 37,â you said in awe, wrapped in a jest, but you caught yourself. Â
âIâm sorry.â You played it cool. âYouâre justâŠwow.â
She laughed a single melodious laugh, her nose scrunch more visible now. Then you noticed it â the lodged maturity in her laugh, the seriousness seeping through her smile as her face eased back into a composed smirk, the intensity in the corners of her eyebrow. Her brown gaze stabbed you, but you didnât mind.
âSo you do laugh.â
âI do. Unfortunately.â She released a short sigh, thought for a bit, and decided to shut her laptop. âKazuha.â
âItâs nice to meet you, Kazuha,â you offered your hand. She shook it firmly, but friendly.
âSo how do youâŠ?â you motioned up and down.
âExercise and diet. Mainly genetics, too. Arenât you supposed to be an expert on this, Nursing?â
âOh shut up. Youâre lucky I donât quiz you onâŠâ You leaned closer, tilted your head, and read off the spine of one of her books. ââŠtorts, obligations, and civil proceedings.â
âIâm sure I can handle it.â She sized you up.
âIâm sure I can handle it,â you repeated sarcastically.
âChrist, youâre a child,â she scoffed slightly.
âHey, a child you specifically chose to sit next to.â You pouted with false-surrendered hands. âPretty sure thatâs illegal.â You leaned back a bit.Â
Her gaze sliced down to your arms and back up to your eyes.
You relented immediately.
âObviously, Iâm kidding. Thank you for sitting here,â you said as you leaned back in towards her. This rewarded you with another laugh, the melody ringing in your ears as she chuckled.
âIâm 23,â you eased her mind.
She nodded with a slight smile. âAlright.â
âAlright?â
âAlright.â
Kazuha stowed her laptop, piled the cluttered paper, and stacked the uneven books. With a sling of her bag and a grip on her books, her tall frame stood before you, hips cocked to the side.Â
âNursing. 23.â She repeated your details back to you, seemingly memorizing and rehearsing the information. âIâll see you around then, 23. Enjoy the coffee.â The older woman pivoted and strode away, her heels tapping across cement.
Alright, you smile to yourself, satisfied. You took a sip of your coffee and finally dug into the croissant.Â
Kazuha sliced the back of your head with one last peek at you. You never noticed.
-
With a zip of your duffel bag, you neatly fold and store your scrub top and the casing of your stethoscope, ready to head out. Packing most of your things, you venture out of the clinic, eager to start that commute home. Your ID beeps at the employee monitor as you say goodbye to your clinical instructor, hoping to split before they have any âlast-minute tasksâ for you. With a dash across intersections, you quickly navigate past the rabble of people also rushing to head home. Like obstacles, the buzz of people filled your night commute; a group of teenagers on skateboards, similar college students probably on their 5th Red Bull, businessmen guffawing as they turn off work mode, and you â this aquamarine smear in a mosaic of muted clothes and the scattered bounces of car lights. Pulling out your phone, you cross off the last item of your to-do list and walk down the same street-lined shop, the last stretch before your commute.
You glance at the familiar shops, giving an occasional wave at the vendors youâve personally gotten to know while studying. You see Mr. Lee, resident loudmouth teokbokki monger, as he shouts out his low prices over his steaming boiler of rice cakes. Just further down, Mrs. Bang, the no-nonsense street food mogul and local grandmother of all, fans the coals just under sizzling skewers and tin-foiled sweet potatoes. Across Mrs. Bangâs side, the Kim brothers chase off young kids staying too late at their neon-highlighted computer gaming lounge. You chuckle a bit, staring at this picture of comfort. Miles and miles of pavement and hours of train tracks separate your college from your house, but walking down this lane has always felt like home.
You walk a few more meters and come up to Fors again, its human vibrance sheltered by its grayscaled exterior. The circular window, an amber eye staring back into city streets and cloudless nights. Words and conversations spill through the glass door, decoding long enough whenever the door opens for a customer and vanishing as quickly as it shuts.
You were never a cafe guy.
You take a few strides past Fors, walk the crossing, and stand just before the steps leading down into the subway and, eventually, home. Something gnawed at the back of your mind.
You were never a cafe guy.Â
You could go back now, just to check. No harm done.
You were never a cafe guy.
Itâs only a few steps. You check your wristwatch. 7:23. Two hours before the final train.
You were never a cafe guy.
You still had a lot of studying to do.
You were never a cafe guy.
You didnât even have any money left.
You were never a cafe guy.
And you never will be, if they didnât haveâŠthis.
Her hair is whimsical, flowing through the air in slow-motion curls and waves. A million love songs play as a part of her face, now comes into view. Her skin is bright and rose-cheeked and warmed by orange cafe beams, a stained-glass display of jaw-drop, devotion being the only appropriate response. Her lips are sweet and kind and lightly pouted, as if inviting a reply only lips can make. Her name flits from your mouth like a short kiss you never want to end, like those you make before leaving for work or wanting to stay in the moment. Cherubs softly sigh as she scans the room, gracing each customer with a momentary glimpse of herâ those split-seconds freeze as you find yourself actively trying to pause the world and the hands of time, just to commit the image to memory. Her eyes shatter the last of your inhibitions as you physically feel weak in her gaze. Daggers dig into your torso, then your face, your beating heart bleeding true onto your sleeves. Your chest rises and falls as you try to steady your breathing from the sprint back.
âHey,â you pipe up.
âHey.â Her smile twinkled in the sea of strangers, like faraway lights beckoning you to come close. A smirk rises from her lips as her wolf cut cascades down her cheeks. You notice something.
âHoop earrings.â
âWorking eyes.â Kazuhaâs scoff turns into a laugh as she turns her attention back to her books.
You come up to the empty seat across from her.
âTaken?â
Kazuha shrugs with a brow raised. âMaybe.â
Crap.
âReally?â You drop the bravado a bit, concerned.
She suddenly laughs, hand immediately coming up to cover her grin. She gestures with an open palm toward the empty seat.
You nod, pulling out the chair and taking a seat, face-to-face with Kazuha again. Well, face to book. A dark green leather-bound book with spidery gold lettering blocked her face from view â Environmental Law.
You lean back a bit, breathing finally evening out. Now, with you sitting down and thinking clearly, you realize the next step is unknown to you. She was right there, just a few feet from you, and yet the distance was canyon-like. You glance back down at your watch â 7:31. Maybe not too late to catch that train.
Her voice cuts through cafe conversation.
âSoâŠâ Environmental Law is lowered for a bit, her sharp eyes now coming into view. âYou ran all the way here just to see me?â
âJust to see you?â you echoed sheepishly. âNo, of course not. I was just, you know, walking. Then I realized I hadnât eaten yet. So, I wanted to grab a bite to eat before that train ride home. So, yeah,â you finish with a shrug.
âUh-huh.â Her eyes narrow for a bit as she scans you up and down. âYou beelined here, didnât you?â
You exhale and admit. âYeahâŠâ
A short giggle leaves her, but a smile stays. She closes up stupid Environmental Law and sets it aside, along with her other law books. She leans forward, her knit sweater accentuating her slim waist and graceful frame.
âAm I a bite to eat, 23?â Her voice suddenly takes on this sultry lowness. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you are hit by her sudden boldness and the obvious double entendre.
âNo! I just meaââ
Kazuha bursts out a quick chuckle, her hand waving it off as she makes light of the conversation. âJesus, chill out!â She smiles at you, satisfied with the jest.
âBut did you? Beeline here, I mean?â She asks again, her voice rising with a slight tone of hope. The contrast jarred you.Â
For how brief youâve known her, Kazuhaâs voice was markedly unique. Hers was a symphony made by madmen â confident, clear, contradicting. Her voice could be light and easy, with a small rise in pitch. But then, itâd have this surprisingly low quality to it, like a sudden flip of sentience and suave â and Kazuha seemed to abuse that switch.
âYouâre going to be dangerous, huh?â
âPretty much,â she says with sly eyes and a smirk.
-
âSo yeah, graduated, did ballet, hated it, got confused, then took time off.â
âMhmâŠyeah.â
âThen got back here to take up law finally.â
âYou liking itâŠ?â
âMmmâŠjust a bit lower, please.â Kazuhaâs fingers interlace in your hair, pushing you a bit lower, down her open legs.
You chuckle as you give a compensatory lick lower on her wetness, nearer her smooshed asscheeks. âI meant law,â you say in between pecks to her pussy lips and kisses to her smooth thighs propped up on your shoulders.
âFuck yes!â Her grip tightens when you hit a spot right at the crease of her ass, using your tongue for all its worth. âYeah, Iâm-Iâm liking it, yeah.â She giggles through strained breaths.
You hook your arm around her left thigh, come back down towards her pussy, and start rubbing the bud at the top of her splayed lips. Your tongue takes care of business nearer the entrance, lapping up the leaking lubricant.
âFuck, yeah, right there! Yes, yes, right there!â Kazuhaâs mouth widens as her neck arches to the ceiling of her quiet flat, her slender throat on display, moonlight streaking through her blinds, the strips of light dying to touch the scene.
You maintain the pace Kazuha liked, rubbing faster only at her clit. Heaven collapses onto you as her strong thighs smother you, the soft flesh clamping down the sides of your head.Â
âYouâre dripping.â You canât help but smile through suffocation.Â
âFor you,â Kazuha breathes out your name, caressing your head with surprising sweetness. âOh fuck!â You make me so wet.â
You grip her outer thighs, your fingers sinking into the plump skin, as you lower them from your head. Her pink pussy lips are spread for you, liquid still dripping down the ring of her ass. An idea pops into your head.
âShit! Yes!â Kazuhaâs head snaps back onto the pillow as your tongue trails from her asshole and up to her clit in one long, deep lick.Â
Your head finally comes into her view. âReally?â you coo, intrigued.
A laugh rises through her exhausted breath as she nods with a smile. âMhmâŠâ Her voice softens in erotic embarrassment.Â
You lean back down and, after a few more coaxes with your index and middle finger, her hips buck against your head as her sex twitches in orgasm. You drown in the erotic liquid and the salt in her sweat that was beading down her navel. You open your mouth wide, tongue flat in acceptance of the fruit of your hard work. The older womanâs legs wrap around your head, humping in response, as if trying to get another orgasm going.
With the added juices, you slide your tongue down her pussy lips and back onto her tight rim. She shrieks in delight with the repeated contact, the tip of your tongue circles and teasing entrance, baiting her for a bit before letting her cunt settle down from the high. You sit back up, satisfied with your work.
Kazuha lies there for a few moments, recollecting. Her tits bounce ever so slightly with each inhale and exhale. With a flick of a switch, her post-orgasm vulnerability vanishes, leaving only a deep need to retaliate. She rises to plant a few kisses on your neck before pulling you lower, her mouth now close to your ear.Â
âMy turn.â
She adeptly reverses your position, with you now lying down on your back, your bare chest and boxers subjected to her gaze. Kazuha straddles you, the tent in your underwear lightly touching her pussy.
With you now on the bottom, Kazuha leans down, her lips seeking a target. First, they land on your cheek. Then the side of your mouth. Your jaw. Ear. Jugular. Pecs. Her face stops near your now-hardened nipple, eyes staring back up at you. Her open mouth breathes warmth onto you. Your cock twitches visibly at the possibility, now straining even harder. This catches her attention. Her sharp gaze widens.
âReally?â She echoes.Â
Fuck.
You admit with a slow nod.
Her pink tongue slowly darts out, dragging across the hard nub.Â
Sparks fly immediately. You jerk in pleasure, your torso rising on instinct, inadvertently bumping your nipple back onto her tongue. You squirm in the unexpected gratification, your breathing quickens as you grip tighter on her pastel blue bed sheets.
Hunger consumes her now. Her mouth latches down onto your left nipple, tongue coating the sensitive nerve endings with slick saliva. She licks repeatedly, around the nub, alternating clockwise and counter. She releases you with an open-mouthed gasp, her tongue coming down to poke and flick the nub lightly and minutely, just enough for you to feel the stimulation â and ultimately crave more.
A neural pathway must have short-circuited because the words that came out of your mouth surprised even you.
âThe other one, too. PleaseâŠâ
After a few last licks, Kazuha smirks up at you. She kisses your left nipple one last time as she shifts a bit, eager to focus her attention on your other erect bud. Saliva coats your right nipple now, Kazuha working hard to keep it moist. Seemingly satisfied, she now blows a cold breath onto it.
âKazuhaâshit!â Your abdomen flexes in response to the cool feeling. Your fingers find her hair, tightening and coiling a few strands before loosening. âSorry,â you whisper.
âItâs alright,â she whispers back, a comforting smile manifests on her cheeks. âYou feel good?â Her gaze is a different kind of sharp now â less edge, more eager. Less cut, more care.
You nod back, letting her continue. And she does. She brings her index and middle finger to your mouth now, eyes wide with this concentrated gaze, lashes batting and beckoning for you to give in.
You open up a bit, her fingers now brushing against your lips. Her lithe fingers dance around your tongue, sliding and slipping, making sure you taste her skin. Without breaking eye contact, she brings out her now-wet fingers and places them back on your left nipple. She traces circles around the center, cutting across occasionally, rubbing your nipple for you. You squirm again, the nerve endings overloaded with the pleasurable stimuli, your body needing to do something to try and regain control. But Kazuha was everything â consent and control. She coaxed and cooed whenever she tried new things, making sure you were alright with it. But the moment you said yes, her disposition steeled. She would fixate on those boundaries she could cross and punish you for it, building you up for your eventual breaking down.
With her fingers focusing on your left nipple, you finally see her plan: her mouth latches onto your nipple on the right. Surges of electricity course through your chest and up your spine, wetness now coating both of the nubs. You curse out in pleasure as you feel the onslaught of sensation, Kazuha pushing and driving you further. She giggles at your response, and you feel her mouth curl into a smile as she licks and sucks at your areola. Your hard dick flexes painfully, begging, pleading, for release as it strains against your boxers. Kazuha looks up at you with an erotic open mouth, her tongue flicking your nipple. Her eyes dart to your cock and back to you, debating whether to give you a journey into that one last frontier youâve been wishing sheâd venture to.
âShould I?â Her low voice inquires in faux apprehension.
Not able to take it anymore, you snap. âKazuha, you fucking better,â you whisper.
She laughs in surprise, gasping at your boldness. Her eyes sharpen for a moment, but glaze over with this newfound warmth. Kazuha leans over, her gorgeous features becoming clearer. She lowers and gives you a sweet kiss, lips pressing against yours firmly, but not hungrily. The sentiment of the kiss caught you off guard, but you reciprocated. You close your eyes and let yourself go.
A few seconds deep into the liplock, Kazuha pulls back. Like magnets, your lips chase and follow her, both of you now sitting up, with her on your lap. You stare at her face again, this beauty staring back at you in the middle of her muted apartment. Once again, those seconds play in slow motion. The curl of her hair stops mid-fall; the blanket flows off her waist like linen waterfalls; her lips, like sweet fruit, accent the light pink tinge of her cheeks. Her body was on yours, graceful, toned, and fragile. Youâve begun hoarding those moments.
Her thumb caresses your cheek, and the world resumes its turning.
âHey, you okay?â Her voice is sultry, sweet, almost a soft squeeze on your shoulder.
You hold her hand and rub her palm for a bit. âI canât help but try and memorize every detail of your faceâŠâ You trail off.
âEh?â she squeaks, her voice high now. She shifts back a bit. Much to your dismay, you sense the warmth in her fade a tad, that stinging facade of the Fors cafe girl flooding back in just a smidge.
âNo, I just meantâ Youâre beautiful,â you stammer through, trying to save the conversation from, well, whatever it was you were trying to save it from. âFrom when I saw you the first time, you were just soâ â
âGod, shut up.â
Her lips collide with yours. You feel her smile through the kiss as her lower lip lightly bites yours. âJust lie back down, okay?â Kazuha says, with a flat palm, lowering you back onto the mattress.
Her nails run down lightly on your sternum and down to your stomach, your abs tightening suddenly at the mix of tingles and sensuality. Her fingers stop at the band of your boxers, just a few inches from the large tent, aggressively trying to find much-needed contact from Kazuhaâs anything at this point. She hooks both thumbs as you also lift your hips a bit, helping her remove the last roadblock to your sexual resolution.
Your cock stands proudly, throbbing and flexing for the older woman, putting on a show so she could finally touch the whole you. You stare at Kazuha, her lips coming to a pout, eyebrows rising as she evaluates your length. You gulp.
âRelax. Itâs bigger than I thought.â Kazuha croons. âBiggest Iâve had,â she mutters under her breath, quiet enough to escape you.
She wraps her fingers around the tense muscle, her cool skin grasping and pumping it slowly. Kazuha watches you, observing every squint, twitch, and groan she can make you perform for her. You moan out her name in weakness, the vowels slipping off your tongue like honey. With a quick swoop, both your lips reunite, her tongue slipping inside to tangle with yours. You share a hot breath as Kazuha pulls back, her nose nuzzles yours for a bit before she dives back in to make out with you. With a sigh, she pushes against you, kissing harder as she grows more insatiable, before peppering smooches down your neck and back onto your right nipple. Her tongue comes out, flicking at it once more before going to your other nipple. Her mouth licks in a constant circle while her other hand lies across your chest, finding your erect right nipple. Your head pounds from the overstimulation â a tongue and a hand on your sensitive pecs, her smooth left palm jerking your length, and a pair of eyes that stare up at you as you go insane. Waves upon waves of signals and zings course through your brain and spine, tingling and rushing through your veins as you grow increasingly numb and sensitive at the same time. You stiffen up unconsciously, puffing your chest and giving Kazuha more space to wreak havoc. You feel simultaneous wet corkscrews from both her tongue and her precum-lubricated hand.
Then, for whatever fucking reason, Kazuha speeds up.
âZuha! Wait!â you croak with weak knees. A tightness starts in your abdomen and starts rising at the base of your steaming length. You buck erratically into Kazuhaâs palm as she pumps you relentlessly. The pleasure builds, you feel this tightening in your core as you breathe quicker now.
âZuha, please!â you manage to moan out, but the older woman jerks you off anyway. Her palm travels your length, squeezing and twisting, stopping just at the tip, and starting back down at the base. With quick strokes, you feel your orgasm building and rumbling along your length.
Then, nothing.
A pit forms in your stomach as your eyes widen, taking in a motionless Kazuha with a stupid, teasing, edging smirk. âWait, no, fuck! Zuha, you canât do thiââ
Her warm, silky mouth suddenly plunges on your thick length, tongue slipping down your shaft and reaching the base in one smooth stroke. With a quick maneuver, Kazuha lies between your spread knees, hands reaching up to stimulate your chest one last time before you eventuallyâŠ
âFuck!â You unknowingly grip Kazuhaâs hair tighter as you slam her mouth deeper onto your meat, her nose meeting your navel. Your cock releases a shot of cum into her mouth, the pressure immediately releasing and gratifying. You hear a slight audible gag as your cock keeps going, dumping and firing off strands of white into her (very receptive) throat and pink tongue. Kazuha bobs for a few moments, making sure to pump every last rope out of you, before releasing your cock from the caverns of her mouth.
Kazuha sits back as she angles her face slightly upward. Her erotic clavicle and neck flex for a bit as she gulps down your seed. She sighs after swallowing, tired and satiated, for now.
The once-spinning apartment has now slowed to a stop, the blue bed and the ravishing woman now clear instead of a sex-hazed blur. Kazuha tucks a stray lock behind her ear, her eyes satisfied with the hurdles she just put you through. Your head collapses back down onto her pillow, sweat soaking just under your chin and neck.
The sheets crinkle and fold as Kazuha plops herself beside you to your left, your two naked bodies touching shoulder to shoulder.
You turn your head to look at her. She looks back.
âSoâŠâ she begins. âZuhaâs new.â
âHey, you try moaning out a three-syllable name,â you retort.
âOh, Kazuha! Fuck, yes, yes, Kazuha!â she yelps out suddenly, eyes closing in dramatized pleasure as your eyes widen. Her face returns to normal as she playfully shrugs. âNot so bad to me.â
You push her shoulder. âYouâre so dumb.â
She squeals, laughing at you, her voice taking on a new pitch and decibel. Her eyes smile at you, a blade sheathed momentarily.
âI like it, though. âZuhaâ.â She repeats the nickname, testing it out for herself and being satisfied.
You canât help but beam. âOkay then.â
-
You stir awake to the sound of the bedroom door closing. Your eyes focus for a bit, taking in Kazuhaâs apartment walls. A plant in the corner. Pictures of friends on a desk nearby. Pastel blue living room.
Kazuha smirking in the doorway.
She wore classy cat eye sunglasses perched atop her forehead, her round eyes visible and scanning. A pair of pearl earrings glint slightly in the panel of Sunday sunlight streaming through the window. She wore high-waist jeans, a simple white shirt, a brown wool cardigan, and boots. She held a cardboard cup holder, two coffee cups in stow â Fors coffee cups â and a paper bag with the cafe logo in her other hand.
You, on the other hand, were still naked, comfortably under her covers.
âYouâre up early.â You rub your eyes for a bit.
âItâs 10.âÂ
You whip around to find your phone. 10:07. You text back home that you were fine. Your gaze lowers to the coffee in her hand. She catches it.
âYeah, figured Iâd do something nice for you while you were knocked out.â Kazuha shrugs sarcastically, stepping away from the door and into the hallway leading to her living room.
âThanks!â you call out.
âJust get dressed! I donât want crumbs on my bed.â
You sigh a few more times, streaks of the midnight adventure seeping through your closed eyelids. You canât help but smile, your heart feeling heavier and fuller.Â
This thing with Kazuha? It was thrilling. But at the same time, waking up in her apartment for the first time was calm and still â it was certain. Your heart races, not for the chase or the âgameâ, but for the serenity of something stable.Â
You hold yourself back a bit. This has to be superficial, you think. Who wouldnât be infatuated with a natural beauty taking an interest? Youâve literally only known her for a day.
But youâll be damned if you donât try and stretch that into years.
You rise out of bed, slip on your boxers, and look around for your shirt. You rifle through your bag and through some of Kazuhaâs clothes from last night â still nothing.
âYou must really like cold coffee, huh?â Kazuha pipes up from the living room, impatient but teasing.
You sigh, walking out into the hallway, shirtless, bashfully covering yourself.
It didnât take long for you to see exactly where the shirt went. You see Kazuha facing away from you, fiddling with her microwave, wearing your white shirt. It hung low on her frame, hugging her shoulders but flowing loosely down, giving her a boxy sort of look. Your eyes trail down the shirt and see her legs, extending gracefully. Kazuha was a tall woman, taller than average, standing just a few inches below you, but her legs went on for miles. Her hips curved sensually, followed by those strong thighs that wrapped around your head previously, then her smooth calves, all the way down to her feet. Her hips were cocked again, the swell of her ass accentuated by her black panties, as she was preoccupied with the appliance.
âYou had pants on a while ago.â
âPerceptive.â She snorts. âMore comfortable this way.â
You hear a metallic clang and the closing of a microwave door. The appliance beeps, its internal timer being set before a constant drone picks up as it stirs to life.
âI expected shorts but notâŠâ You canât help but ogle the curves of her thighs as they transition to her legs. You slightly drool at the sight.Â
âStop staring and take a seat.â She tilts her head to look back, her eyes meeting yours.
You scoot over to her kitchen area, taking a seat on the corner nearest a window. On the table are the two coffees she bought from Fors, you take off their tops, trying to discern which one was yours. You place the latte near you and Kazuhaâs americano on her side of the table. With a ping from the microwave, Kazuha brings a tray over â two croissants. She plops the pastries in the middle of the table, taking a seat across from you. You stare at her a bit before deciding to inch your chair closer to her side. You were now sitting to her left.
âThereâs enough room for both of us, câmon.â She bumps your shoulder playfully.
âI know. Just wanted to be closer.â You shrug, sheepishly.
âYouâre a sap.â She chuckles briefly as she nudges the tray of croissants.
âThanks, Zuha.â You lean over to try to kiss her cheek.
She clicks her tongue as your lips land on her palm instead. âEat.â
âBossy.â
âInsisting,â she corrects.
You pick up a croissant, take a bite of the flaky pointed end, place it back on the tray, and chew in front of her.Â
âHappy?â you ask through munches.
âJesus, just eat!â she whines with a small laugh, hitting you on your shoulder.
âYou donât really talk much, huh?â you say with a sip of coffee.
âYou donât really stay quiet much, huh?â Her nose scrunches as she acts irritated.
âNot in my nature. Learned that a long time ago.â You shrug.
She sighs as she looks into your eyes, a small smirk plastered on her face. âI rarely talk to people, let alone have breakfast with them. So I stay quiet most of the time.â
âSo, is this a first for you?â
âNot exactly. JustâŠthe first time in a long while.â
âI see.â You tap your fingers a bit on her table. A few silent seconds pass. But you canât help yourself. âHowâre you liking it so far?â
âYouâre really annoying, do you know that?â She replies snarkily.
âWow, tell me how you really feel. Am I right?â you chuckle, poking her side a bit.
âAnd youâre really stupid.â
âThat I can accept a bit.â
She laughs at you, her hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Instinctively, it seems.
âBut,â Kazuha thinks hard for a bit. ââŠyouâre charming,â she finishes honestly.
Your chest pounds as her hand comes into contact with the side of your face. Your stomach feels full, butterflies fluttering and drifting up your throat, trying to crawl out of your mouth in the form of stutters and stammers. Your brain kicks into overdrive again, trying to encode the sight before you.Â
Her nose was adorable, the folds on her bridge on the verge of scrunching. The corner of her lips rose, a smirk about to form again. Her lashes batted, as her eyes were softer now, their edge now an old friend you dare not reunite with.
Kazuha senses what you were doing; her nose now actually scrunches in amusement before smoothing, like reflex suppressed. She rolls her eyes and averts her gaze as she scoffs, a hint of light pink appearing on her cheeks. Her hand lowers from your cheek, landing back on the table, near her coffee cup.
âSoâŠâ you cough a bit. âI thought you hated ballet.â You nod across the kitchen, motioning towards a wall in the living room. On it, hung a picture of a younger Kazuha, mid-pirouette.
Kazuha follows your gaze and clicks her tongue. âAh. Yeah. I think itâs all Iâve ever known, and I donât really have any other pictures.â A somber quality to her voice reached you.
âWhyâd you do it, anyway?â
âWell, my father was a prestigious man.â Kazuha puts on a fake gruff voice. âOnly the best for my little girl. The best schools, the best clothes, the best lessons. It was either the best or nothing at all.â Kazuha laughs it off, but continues. âI liked it at first. Then, I got confused. Did I like it? Or did my dad like it, so I liked it too? Maybe decided I didnât like it. Told him about it. He obviously wasn't happy. We stop talking. I moved away. Next thing I know, Iâm back here, all dressed in black, staring at his casket being lowered.â
Shame fills you. âOh no, Zuha. Shit, Iâm sorry. I didnât even mean toâŠâ You wrap an arm around her, and her head rests on your shoulder.
âNo, I know. Itâs alright.â Her voice stiffens a bit, trying to play it tough. âItâs just not really a conversation over coffee.â
You nod silently as your thumb strokes her shoulder.
Kazuha blurts out, the moroseness in her now absent. âI was close to getting married once.â
âExcuse me?â you gasp, shock evident in your voice.
âI know, right? Had a ring too!â she lays her palm flat, staring at the bare space the ring used to inhabit. âBut stuff happened, so I donât really go for that anymoreâ the commitment thing.â Her voice softens as she trails off.Â
âOh.âÂ
A few awkward minutes pass by without a word being uttered.Â
Your heart beats a little bit faster, nervous and ashamed, for even yearning a little bit. Her eyes wander upwards, trying to catch your expression.Â
âHey, look, this wasââ
You cut her off. âSo! You like croissants too?â you cough, bypassing that conversation for now. You prod at both of your croissants with a fork.
Kazuha pouts but nods slowly. âUh, yeah. Croissants, pastries, bread, in general.â Kazuha eyes you but plays along, her voice sullen now.
Given where you are in your life now, youâve always appreciated honesty. Playing social games has been a pain, so to speak, and youâve always made it a point to be clear. Now, you reassess.
So you nod.
And then you sigh.
And then you speak up.
âLook, Kazuha. ThisâŠâ You motion to both of you. âDonât you want to try?â
Kazuha breathes deeply, the conflict obvious in her brows. âDating?â
âWe donât have to go out all the time! Iâve got school, I know youâve got law. We can just, yâknow, hang outâ like see each other at the end of the day.â
âButââ
âAnd, Iâll respect your time. If you just wanna stay here and not meet up, Iâll understand.â
With pursed lips, Kazuha slightly nods, still trying to think about the proposition.
âWhat about the sex?â she inquires innocently, despite the subject matter.
âOh. No, no, we donât have to. Iâm fine without it.â
Kazuha stifles a laugh, a smile coming back to her cheeks, her face brightening now.Â
âYouâll be fine without it?â she says with a roll of her eyes, a brow sharply rising now.
You blush suddenly. âI mean, yeah. I donât want to pressure you.â
âYou really are a sap,â Kazuha confirms. There was a certain sweetness to her voice, like a slow realization of you.
Her face is a few inches from yours. Youâre still shoulder-to-shoulder. The seconds tick by as millennia. You study her face in the pause.
Her eyebrows.
Thatâs what made her gaze so sharp. Those eyebrows that furrow, arch, or dip with every expression passing through her. Theyâre angled when sheâs thinking, pointed when sheâs scoffing, and rounded whenever her nose scrunches. Together with her eyes, her brows complete her blade.
The ambient sounds of Kazuhaâs flat unwarp as temporal flow is restored. Her eyes move minutely across your face, and you feel small cuts on your lip.
âWhat is it?â you whisper.
âIâm worse, yâknow, when we become closer. You just donât know me yet,â she whispers back.
âGive me a chance to then.â
Your lips meet again that morning in her flat.
-
A week passes by after that day. Then a month. And then three. And, true enough, youâve consistently met up with Zuha. Youâd catch up with her after her classes, sheâd sometimes wait after you clocked out, or youâd just stop by her flat. Youâve settled into that familiar routine, taking into account your commute time and all that. Although you have spent many a night at Zuhaâs place, too, when she points out how youâll only be cramped in that train ride (albeit while her lips are on you). But, all in all, Zuha was a part of your day.
And yet, she remained mysterious.
Youâve been observing her on the days you spent time together in her apartment. And, honestly, you felt perplexed.Â
Zuha was the type of person who had this cold exterior, especially when it came to her studies, but at the same time bawled over her 7th watch of The Lion King (getting through Mufasaâs death was always a trip through all the stages of grief).Â
Sheâd keep all her notes and digests organized, but sheâd highlight like a maniac afterward â a mosaic of colors, lines, arrows, offshoot notes, and tangent case references. It was incomprehensible, but Kazuha would read them and judge you for not understanding.Â
Sheâd shut down most jokes you make, rebutting and parrying with a deadpan expression, but then sheâd drop a few dad jokes, grin sweetly, and then assert that sheâs just funnier than you.
Each movement of hers seemed like a calculated performance. An afternoon at hers was a quiet recital just for you. Youâd see ballet in everything she did â the way sheâd gracefully bend to pick up a dropped spoon, or the way her lines extend when you stare at her putting on jeans, or the way sheâd unscrunch her nose and tuck a strand of hair neatly behind her ear. Youâve been wondering whether she still likes ballet. Youâd watch her and just be stuck.
Sheâd catch you staring sometimes, too. You felt it whenever you got cut. She would raise an eyebrow, a small, confused smirk forming. Then a roll of the eyes. A rare middle finger. But most commonly a blush.
Was the age gap between you and her apparent? Surprisingly no. Both of your personalities jived, and Zuha never made a point of talking down to you, and you always respected her whenever she knew something you didnât. Being with her was refreshing. She had an impulsiveness about her that was such a thrill ride, but then youâd also have these deeply meaningful conversations that went on for ages. She was the perfect woman, in addition to being the perfect girlfriend.
And, youâve had girlfriends before, but it was always the high school crash-and-burn ones. It was never a âgo straight to their place after school to cook dinnerâ type. I mean, youâve never even introduced anybody to your parents.
Not until your 10th night staying over at Zuhaâs flat.
-
âYou never told us it was a girl!â Your mom squealed on the other side of the video call. All this time, youâve told her youâre staying over at a friendâs but never bothered to specify a girl. But then, Zuha accidentally walked behind you a few minutes ago, her feminine form obvious through the video. Your mom was now seated and audibly excited.
From the background, you hear your dad laugh. âSo thatâs where heâs been!â
âYes, okay, sheâs a girl. But thatâs enough! Iâm just staying over here to bypass the stupid commute times!â You whine, uncharacteristically.Â
Zuha sat in front of you and to the right, sitting just outside of the phoneâs view.
âRemember when you kept sneaking in to stay over, âhon?â Your mom sighs, reminiscing.
âYeah, we were around his age then, too, âhon,â your parents laugh. Zuha is dying, her stomach flexing as she giggles silently.
âWell, where is she? Show her to us!â Your mom whines, insisting.
âOh, I donât know, Mom. Sheâs kinda buââ
âWait!â Zuha protests, suddenly and swiftly walks over behind the couch to lean over your shoulder. Her face now comes into view and on camera.
âOh, honey. She is gorgeous.â Your mom gasps in shock. âWow.â
Zuha giggles lightly and greets your parents respectfully.
Your dad now walks over, puts an arm around your mom, and chuckles. âKazuha, please, drop the honorifics. At this point, weâre just glad youâre our sonâs girlfriend. Welcome to the family!â
You fake a yawn. âO-kay, guys! Itâs getting pretty late, we should probablyââÂ
âNo! I want to keep talking to them!â Zuhaâs voice rises, her pearly whites widely on display as she teases you. Her nose scrunches momentarily. You mentally take note of it.
You hear defiant cries from your phone, too.
âChrist, fine, fine!â You hand your phone and walk over to the kitchen to prepare a side dish. Zuha stays behind, entertaining your folks with a couple of stories about you. After having their fill, their conversations shift from you to her: where she came from, her childhood, her hobbies, and then finally, ballet.Â
Your ears (and your parents') perk up as soon as you hear Zuha talking about her old ballet school, how strict the recitals were, and how dedicated her classmates were. You feel the tinge of joy Zuha had for ballet, and you couldnât help but gush at her passion. You hear your parents exclaim as they look up Zuha on their cellphones, surprised to see how much of a slight celebrity Zuha is.Â
And it was true, shortly after your first morning together, you looked her up. And, real enough, Zuha had her own Wikipedia page and YouTube videos with thousands of views. She was an astonishing performer. Her lines were clean, graceful, and full of training. Interestingly, youâd also sometimes catch her watching her old recitals. Sheâd tuck them away whenever you got close, laughing shyly, so you never really got around to asking her about it.
So, conversation aside, you had to focus on dinner. You fix up a small salad for a few minutes and set it down on the table beside the sukiyaki Zuha cooked. You motion over to her, she nods, and says goodbye to your parents, handing you back your phone before sitting down at the table. You check back on the video call.
âAlright, guys, youâve terrorized me enough.â You joke.
âSheâs a keeper, honey.â Your mom whispers sweetly.
You look up from your phone and see Zuha preparing a plate for you first, oblivious to what your mom just said.
âI know, Mom. She is.â Your heart swells.
âOkay then, just text us every time youâll stay over there, alright?â
âMhm, I will. I promise.â
âAnd use protection!â Your dad calls out in the background.
âGo to bed, Dad!â
The video ends, and you awkwardly chuckle, tucking away your phone. Zuha inches her chair closer to the table, waiting for you.
âSo.â You finally take a seat in front of Zuha.
âSo.â
âDid you hear any of that?â You wince a bit.
âHear what?â
You shake your head as you release a sigh, laughing at the whole situation. âIâm sorry, Zuha. They just get excited from time to time.â
âOh no, donât be. Theyâre cute. They really love you.â
âYeah, I do too,â you say, satisfied. âThanks for being kind to them.â
âOf course.â She lets go of her fork for a bit to take your hand, her thumb rubbing your outer palm.
After a few silent stares, both of you start eating, eager to just dig in and finally head to bed.
The older woman pipes up suddenly, mouth half full. âGotta say sorry to your dad, though.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âOh. âCause we wonât use protection tonight.â
-
Your relationship had its ups and downs, too, no doubt about that. Youâd argue, but she had her ways, and you had your own ways of ensuring it never got too out of hand (Bread. It was bread.) or too long (Not going to bed mad, and all that).Â
Fighting was normal. Fighting with Zuha, however, was not. Fighting with Zuha was hard. When she knew she was right (and that was most of the time), she was bulletproof. She was stubborn, argumentative, and smug. Sheâd have these three absolutely solid main points, a dozen supporting statements, and a recommendation or two on how you could change your behavior. It was incredible, really, peeling back a layer to envision how she was in her classes.
Youâd try arguing back, but she was quicker. A stern ânoâ and youâd immediately fold. You couldnât get a word in, even if you tried.Â
Which made you really savor those moments you were right.
-
So, the crux of the problem was that Zuha thought you were, and you quote, âat times too taciturn, apprehensive, and slow to moveâ, end quote.
âI told you to see to it already. Did you listen? No. You never do.â She rolled her eyes but remained planted in front of you, arm crossed, eyebrows jagged and sharp as ever.
âOkay, Zuha, thatâs a bit unfair. I swear, I gave them to you. I bought them, then gave them to you right after.â
âAbsolutely not. If I had them, then we'd already be there in the damn cinema!â
Yes, this argument was about tickets. To an animated movie. About talking animals.
âNo! Iâm absolutely sure I gave them to you. I triple checked those tickets, Zuha. I know how much you looked forward to the movie, so I made sure not to mess up.â
âSo where are the tickets, then?â
âZuha, I donât know. I gave them to you, and thatâs the last time I saw them.â
âThe absolute negligence.â She muttered to herself, shaking her head and walking toward the other side of the living room.
âHey, câmon. We can just stream it. Iâm sure a couple of pirate sites already have it up. Letâs calmââ
You heard the metallic hum of her gaze being unsheathed. âCalm down? You wanna run that by me again?â
âShutting up.â You mumbled.
With a few careful strides and a sidestep, you avoided the fuming area that is Zuha and got to the bedroom. Looking to lie down for a bit and just zone out, you hauled the large clothes pile that Zuha always kept cluttered. You grabbed a couple of shirts and blouses, set aside the heavy leather coats, and hung a couple of the jeans and trousers she had worn in the past few days.
Then, something fell out.
You hung the jeans by the belt loop and looked around. And there it was. On the carpeted floor.
Two obviously-folded movie tickets. From her pants. Your face melted into a smile as memories of the day you gave it to her flooded back.
âZuha!â
âWhat?â A shout.
âCome here for a minute.â
You heard her steps bounding down the hall.
Her eyebrows were weaponized, her graze fresh off the grindstone.
âLook what I found.â You sat on the bed, leaned, and crossed your arms. Smug.
Her blade swung wide and almost caught your neck. But they landed on the tickets on the floor.
âNow, for my cross-exam, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, could you tell me what those are?â
Zuha was frozen speechless, her tongue poking the side of her cheek now. âYou donât cross-examine the jury, smart ass.â
You clicked your tongue a few times. âZip it, Nakamura. I have the floor. Now what, pray tell, are those you see on the floor? Are they movie tickets?â
âYou could have put those there toââ
âNow, now, if I remember correctly,â you put on a fake, wondering tone amidst your lawyerly bravado, âyou must only respond with a yes or a no during the cross-examination.â
She scoffs, eyes darting around the room. âYes, theyâre movie tickets.â
âAnd those pants are yours, correct?â
âYes.â She grumbles.
âSo were you, or were you not, the latest recipient of said tickets?â
Silence.
âMs. Nakamura, Iâm gonna need an answer from you.â
âUgh, fine! Fine, fine! I had them last then. Itâs my fault we couldnât go.â
âNo further questions, Your Honor.â You took a bow at the four walls of her room and the imaginary spectators of your stupendous legal victory.
You poked Zuha in the side. âHowâs that?â
âIâm giving it to you this once.â
âGiving what?â
âThe satisfaction of proving me wrong.â
You reveled in the honor. âChrist.â You took a step back, letting the privilege sink in. âThis is the best day of my life.â
âYeah, yeah, Iâll get you next time.â
âIs this what law schoolâs like? Itâs kinda easy, donât you think?â
âAlright. I take it back. Youâre done. Shut the fuck up.â Her voice was harsher now.
âShutting up.â
âSit down.âÂ
âYes, Maâam.â The satisfaction was stripped away instantaneously. Your obedience and your âtaciturnityâ were now the most salient parts of you once again.
Standing in front of you, Zuha placed both hands on your shoulders, locking eyes with you.
âZ-Zuha?â You gulped.
âLook. Iâm sorry for calling you negligent. Or that you donât listen. Thatâs not true.â
Your hands found her waist on instinct, rubbing her sides sweetly. âHey. Thatâs alright. I know you really wanted to catch that movie.â
âLet me make it up to you, then.â Her fingers trailed along the length of your arms and stopped at your knees. With her eyes fixed on yours, she got on her knees, tantalizingly slow, positioning herself between your legs. Her hands crept up and down your thigh, feeling the soft material of your baggy shorts. Eventually, her palms wound up in between your legs, settling on your clothed bulge, growing and stiffening.
Fighting with her was hard. But you were right where you wanted to be.
-
To add on to your list of perplexities, Zuha was a total freak despite the exceptional discipline she exhibits when it comes to studying, cooking, or any other area in life. Hell, she was even more adventurous than you. (But to be fair, you were pretty vanilla, so the bar is already low.) You were already pretty exploratory, letting her do the nipple thing, but then Zuha took it further.
It started with a few slaps on her ass, then the occasional âput a finger in itâ from her, and then your tongue. But now, most of the time you go out with her ends up in âalleyway ass-playâ, as you refer to it in your mind.Â
When the mood struck her, youâd know. She was unbelievably teasing with it too â a small raise in her eyebrow, pupils darting to an unseen corner, a bump of her shoulder. Then sheâd amp it up with a small kiss on your cheek, nails lightly digging into your bicep, deep whiffs around your neck, or, if unheard, a moan of your name. Then, with discreet shuffles, youâd be on your knees, tongue worshipping Zuhaâs ass.Â
You figured you must have been totally whipped, always letting her reach orgasm and delaying yours until you guys got home. But every time, youâd still put an arm around her and kiss the top of her head sweetly. It was Zuha â of course, it was fine.
-
For example, this one time, you waited outside the Law building, tucking your clinical notes inside a clipboard to prepare for tomorrowâs case presentations. You adjusted your scrub pants a bit, allowing your top to finally untuck. You heaved a sigh, a 12-hour shift evident in the ache of your shoulders and neck. You rubbed your eyes and did a few stretches, willing the fatigue to leave your body before Zuha sees you. With a few minutes left before 5:30, you finally sat down on the building steps with your back to the door, eyes heavy with sleep (or lack thereof).
With a scuffle and the sound of metal turning, you heard the conversations of the law students finally seeping through. An onslaught of corporate attire swarmed you â heels clacked, oxfords tapped, ties swished, and pants swooped. Future lawyers, entranced in their own legal world, threw around jargon, judicial loopholes, and jurisprudence issues, all while flowing down the steps. They courteously gave you a wide berth (probably resonating with that same tired look you had) as you waited for Zuha. The flock thinned out soon enough as the remaining stragglers trailed off away from the steps. You looked around, slightly worried, as the campus became increasingly sparse. But, with your feet weighing a million, you stayed sitting for a few more peaceful minutes.
âYou better not be falling asleep.â
Zuha.
You stood up to turn around, following her voice. The ache in your joints dissipated instantaneously as your pulse quickened.
â'Cause I definitely canât carry you home.â
There she was.
She stood at the top of the steps, with a strong amount of swagger, wearing this deep blue three-piece suede suit. She wore black tapered high-heeled boots, accentuating her long, slender stature. Her fair skin glowed with the contrast of the suitâs color, making her presence literally illuminating. Her neck was fully on show, ditching the traditional collared polo top and only wearing the blue vest. Her nails were colored a dark red, beautifully manicured and shaped, as her hand lay on her cocked hip. Her eyes twinkled alongside her earrings, like stars beginning to show in the waning sun. And her brow, proudly raised and basking in your jaw drop and ogle. Her silhouette was sharp, slender, and confident, armed with her sling bag and a clipboard containing the structure of her defense.
The surge of law students prior has been erased from your memory; they could never compare with what you were seeing. You continued to stare, speechless, but remembering â encoding. Zuha did tell you about the mock trial and how they all had to dress formally to simulate real court proceedings, but you never expectedâŠthis. You swooned internally, feeling weak in the knees and in her gaze.
Zuha scoffed playfully, shooting a finger gun. âHey. I take it youâre speechless? I know, I know, I clean up pretty nice, if I do say so myseââ
âYouâre breathtaking.â
Her eyes widened as she stopped fronting. A blush crept up her neck and on her cheeks. She tucked a stray hair back behind her ears.Â
âOh. I mean, I was just kiddingâŠâ Zuha trailed off.
âNo, I mean it.â You climbed up one step closer. âYouâre absolutely breathtakingâŠâ
You felt cuts across your body and your face as Zuha stared back, shy and nervous and on guard.
âCome on, it was just the makeup. And these clothes were really just lying around unused.â She excused herself.
âZuha.â
âPlus, you see me all the time. Without all the makeup and the jewelry and all that.â Her eyes avoided your gaze now as you stood with her atop the steps.
âZuha.â
âWhatâŠ?â She spoke in a small voice, seemingly terrified of what you had to say â the confident law student, mortified at the notion.
âI mean it. You really areâ and not just today, but all the time.â You cupped her cheek. âI am so in love with you.â
Zuha breathed out, glassy eyes taking you in, a pout suddenly forming. After a beat, she finally leaned in to kiss you, crumpling your shirt to pull you in. You kissed back, holding both sides of her face as she hummed in glee. Her hands trailed up to your shoulders, criss-crossing just behind your neck as you pulled her closer by the waist now, deepening the kiss. You felt her lips curve into a smile as she pulled back slightly to stare at you, her gaze soft and sweet.
Zuha whispered out a joke. âSo this is all it took for you to kiss me like that, huh?â
âI mean, youâre gorgeous all the time.â You chuckled and planted a peck on her lips. âBut yeah, you look great in that suit. Jesus.â
âHey.â Her thumb brushed along your cheek. âI appreciate you. I know Iâm weird with affection, but Iâm trying. Itâs okay when itâs you.â
You smiled lightly as you held her gaze. âIâm yours, Zuha. No way around it.â You shrugged.
She leaned in again, and you pursed your lips on instinct. But this time, she tilted your head down, planting a kiss on your forehead. You blushed at the unfamiliar gesture as you coughed awkwardly.
âSo howâd the trial go?â You asked Zuha as you both finally stepped down and away from the Law building, your arms linking.
âYeah, it went great! We all had a chance to speak before the bar, and it all went smoothly. My notes really came in handy with the defense, what with all the different cases I got to reference.â
Zuha then went off on a tangent on how the mock trial works and how theyâd be scored. She brought up different parts of the courtroom and what role they played in legal proceedings, how a cross-examination was supposed to be done, and why technicalities are basically bulletproof if a law hasnât been amended yet. You nodded along to her voice, half listening and half swooning as her lips moved.
ââŠso we really had no choice but to call for a short recess just to finally get the defense straight.â Zuha finally finished.
Zuha lagged for a moment, quietly registering what you said. Then she bumped your shoulder appreciatively. âThanks. Iâm really liking it, too.â
Both of you finally reached a T-junction, with the road extending on both your left and right. A few convenience stores lined the street as the nightlife started to grow.
âDid you want to eat something before we go? Or just share the pint of ice cream we have at home?â
âThat pint sounds kinda tempting, but thatâs not dinner. Hey, I thought you were Mr. Health Guy, out here making peopleâs lives healthier?â She chided with a smile, poking at your scrub pants.
âHey, Iâm off the clock!â You whined.
Zuha thought for a moment, but her eyes ultimately landed back on you. Something was off.
âHey, did you really like this suit?â She raised an eyebrow slightly.
âOf course. It fits you perfectly, Zuha.â You answered slowly, suspicious of the sudden question.
Her eyes look past you, in between the different convenience stores. Her grip on your forearm tightened slightly.
âDo you wanna take it off me?â
âDammit, Zuha, I knew it!â
âCome on. Weâll be quick.â
âWeâll be caught.âÂ
âWeâll be quiet,â Zuha affirmed, steadfast. Her legs extended as she dragged you into a small passageway just beside a store. The path was dimly lit (of course) with only a blinking lamp post on the far end.
âPlusâŠâ Zuha started as she pulled you into the shadows, her arms squeezing both your shoulders. âItâs not for me.â
âWhat do you mean?â You whispered.
Zuha turned around, planting both palms on the brick wall of the building. She arched her back, the suit jacket trailing off her sides, showing off the round shape of her ass. The suede shimmered slightly, drawing lines where her legs and juicy thighs met the outline of her butt. Your meat suddenly flexed in anticipation.
âAs a thank you. For waiting for me.â She said with a bite of her lip. âAnd for everything else.â
You approached her slowly, your hand coming in contact with her waist. âAre you sure?â
âYeah. Think of it as payment. For the times I only let you get me off.â
âYouâre crazy.â You said, head leaning in to take a whiff of her neck.Â
Zuha moaned at the proximal contact. You moved both your hands to hug around her waist, feeling the sleek material of her vest. You made a slight U-turn, fingers trailing upwards to cup her chest as you kissed the spot below her ear. You finally closed the distance with the tent poking through your pants as you brushed your bulge at the cleft of her asscheeks.
âMmm, fuck, that for me?â
âIâm yours.â Your right hand squeezed her tit as your left pushed against her fit stomach, bringing her whole arched body closer to you. Your cock rubbed against the material of your scrub pants, grinding against her plump ass and poking in between from time to time. You leaned against her shoulder, face buried in her fragrant vanilla-shampooed hair, grunting as you finally had your way with her.
âOh, God, Iâm so sorry for leaving youâ fuckâ hanging all the time.â Her palm crumpled the hair on the back of your head as she turned slightly to kiss your cheek. You ground your cock harder against her, gripping her flesh tighter as if sheâll disappear right before you orgasm. You moaned in unison as you humped her. But you needed more. With a quick release, you pulled down your scrub pants and boxers, exposing your straining dick to the night air. You brought your shaft closer as you humped along the groove of her ass.
âFuck, did you take it out? Oh God, fuck, yes, thatâs so fucking hot. I can feel how hard you are.â The older woman mewled as her hair became disheveled, the thought of your bare cock rubbing against her ass exhilarating her to a new height.
The soft feel of the suede and the roundness of her butt were the perfect velvet cushion to hump and grind against as you held her in place. Beads of pre-cum slicked the length of your shaft, making your strokes extra slippery and smooth. Zuha cried and whimpered your name as she felt your entire length run between her cheeks. You drove your meat further, alternating between a long stroke and a deep push between her thighs. You crept both of your hands underneath her vest, feeling for the bottom of her bra. You snuck a couple fingers in, rubbing and pinching at her hardened peaks.
âHoly fuck, youâre amazing. Yes, yes, oh God yes, just like that, just like that.â Her fingers tightened around your hair.
With a sudden bang and the sound of hollow plastic falling, both of you froze. Your eyes panicked, darting to the end of the passageway where the convenience store was. A cat had knocked over several empty water jugs and plastic gallons of oil. A bell rang, and the store owner stared at the ruckus, a frustrated cry accompanying his irritated hair scratch.
He was now facing the alley.
Toward the both of you.
Any closer â any noisier â and youâd both be caught.
âHey, wait, wait,â Zuha says with slight concern.
You buried your face back in her hair, adrenaline flowing as your dick did most of the thinking. You gave her a hump.
Zuha lightly smacked your cheek. âHey, câmon!â She snapped at you quietly.
But you didnât listen. You grinded against her more aggressively now, your dick smacking her ass.
âFuck!â Zuha croaks out.
The store ownerâs head snapped towards the alley. You saw him squint, trying to make sense of the shadows.
âFucking stop it, I swear.â Zuha released a warning alongside a breathy moan.
You brought one of your hands to her mouth, covering her lips but leaving her nose. You continued grinding now, slowly but surely, savoring the unexpected audience. Zuha seemed to notice this too; her complaints now coos and moans into your hand.
The store owner shook his head and finally knelt down to fix the spilled containers. He headed back in shortly after.
Zuha smacked your shoulder this time. âYou really are an idiot, huh?â
You held her hip with one hand now, watching your shaft bump up against the blue velvet material. You brought your other hand to her throat and pulled her back towards you, your chest and cock now pressing flush against her.
âGod, youâre lucky I like you.â She breathed out, turning her head to the side to meet your lips as you mashed your member against her.
âI like you a lot, Zuha.â You murmured against her temple, hugging her a bit harder, a bit of sentiment breaking through the sex-fueled cracks of your resolve.
âYeah? I bet you do.â Her hold on your hair loosened as her hand traveled downward, finding your thick rod. She stroked it a few times, spreading precum along the length. âMmm, fuck, youâre so big. You feel good?â
âGod, fuck yes.â You brought her hand back up to your hair as you took charge, breathing in the scent of her sweat as you angled her face towards you. Zuha gasped out an open-mouthed moan, feeling you drive your erection further between her thick ass. You shove your tongue in her mouth as she groans out your name, meeting her in a raspy and sloppy kiss.
You rubbed back against her harder, feeling the rising pressure in your groin just steaming to get out. She responded in kind, meeting your humps halfway, colliding against you with the velvet feel of her pants.Â
âWhere do you wanna cum?â She rasped out.
âM-mouth..?â You requested through clenched teeth.
âFuck.â Zuha said with an accidental gasp. âGreat choice.â
You humped erratically now, the piston-like rhythm now lost to impending release. Zuhaâs body rocks alongside yours as she welcomes the roughness. After a few awkward humps and grinds, you feel a surge travel up from the base of your cock to the tip, your meat flexes as you finally groan out in pleasure completed.
âCumming?â
âMhm, y-yeah.â
You leaned back a bit, hand wrapping your cock to keep the stimulation going. Zuha quickly whipped around and crouched, hands on both your thighs, as she opened her mouth. You leaned forward a bit, tip now coming in contact with her tongue. The LED lampâs light crawled through the shadows from the end of the alley, lighting up Zuhaâs clear face as she looked up at you while steadying herself.
You stared at Zuha, at the stray lock of hair that traveled down her face, the slightly scuffed suede suit now a juxtaposition to the raunchy situation you were both in, and her delicate lips now parted to accept your release. You stroked yourself faster, groaning as your knees shuddered and spine tingled, until you finally climaxed. You spurted out a rope of cum, shooting half into Zuhaâs mouth and up diagonally to her right cheek. You let out a strained growl, another wave shooting out and splattering on her tongue, the orgasm hitting you way harder than expected. Zuha stroked it for you, aiding you in emptying your balls deeper into her mouth. She helped you ride out your orgasm, catching each drop with care.
With a gulp, she smirked. âWell?â
âFuckâ thank you.â You gulped, exhausted and palpitating, your cock still out.
She giggled before rising from the cement to pat you on the chest. Her hand slid up to the side of your face as she leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek.
âOf course.â She cooed, her thumb stroking your jaw gently.
You zipped up awkwardly, patting down the crumples and folds of your shirt. âSo now do you wanna go home?â
-
Zuha could be confusing at times, but in the short span youâve known her, you were aware that your feelings had grown ever clearer â you already loved her. It was easy, exciting, and expected.
Sure, Zuha was a woman of opposites within herself, but with you, it was different. You got to fill in whatever gaps Zuha had, and you enjoyed the âworkâ, so to speak.Â
Youâd ease tightly-wound nights she spent studying with instant cocoa and a few back rubs. Funnily enough, you could now also recall off the top of your head different cases sheâd said mattered to her defense. Youâd have breakfast ready for her whenever you had to leave her apartment early, and youâd be there in the evening, picking up scattered clothes sheâd be too tired to pick up.
And she filled you, too.Â
Zuha was quick with a quiz or two on your recent lessons and cases. Sheâd roleplay as different patients with varying diagnoses, practicing how quick you could diagnose and plan interventions. On your down times, sheâd buy you more bread, masking the sentiment with a flashy grin, but secretly making sure you never forgot to eat. Sheâd click her tongue and fume for a moment whenever you food-stained your shirt, but you would always catch her preparing the washing machine right after. Her age is apparent in those moments.
You already loved Zuha, but telling her was a different thing altogether. Youâve noticed it for a long time, how she would dodge conversations about it, simply skirt around the topic, or silence you with a kiss. She never talked about love, or loving, or falling in love, and so youâve always chalked it up to her not being used to it, what with her alleged marriage (you were still very curious about that) not being the best and how sheâs never really needed to love another. You knew she was trying to open herself up, and you would be there every step of the way.
However, you also knew this thing with Zuha was different. It had to be. Sure, itâs only been a couple of months, but forehead kisses and buying groceries together seemed to convey otherwise. Youâve already considered Zuhaâs flat your place too, and she wouldnât have it any other way either. Youâve already shared countless nights together â snoring, arguing, or kissing. If that wasnât love, then you donât know what the hell youâve been doing with her all this time.Â
And so, since it was now also your 4th month together, you planned to tell her tonight.
-
With a click of your phone, you send a reply to Zuha, reminding her to stay safe on her way home.Â
She texts back a smiley face with sunglasses and finger guns. âYou know it.â
For the 5th time now, sheâs had to stay a bit late on campus, so you decided to go ahead and prepare dinner for when she arrived. You run some plates under the faucet after finally setting down tonightâs dinner: a few well-seared cuts of beef, beautiful and silky mashed potatoes, a yogurt bowl with mixed berries for dessert, and a nice bottle of wine you bought on the detour home. Then, as you both ate, youâd tell her you love her. Boom â sparks fly, sheâll tell you she loves you too, and then youâll be a hero. After dinner, youâd lead her to the couch and bring out your secret weapon to seal the deal: a pint of ice cream and a Disney movie. You hum to yourself, satisfied, as you fold a few of the clean laundry that piled on the corner stool of Zuhaâs (and yours) room.
You hear the faint jingle of Zuhaâs keys as the door finally swings open. She steps in, this wonderful woman wearing an oversized army green parka over her baggy grey hoodie, loose jorts, and dark leggings that pair with her beat-up sneakers â stylish as always. She pushes her glasses up her nose as she readjusts the strap of her (obviously heavy) duffel bag. Her gaze scans and lands first on the food on the table and then finally on you. Her face beams as her eyes turn into crescent moons of glee, and her nose scrunches for an imperceptible second.Â
She smiles at you. âSorry, Iâm late.â
Your arm wraps around her waist as your other hand cradles the back of her head. You lean forward and plant your lips on hers. Her arms snake and cross just behind your neck as she leans into you, surrendering to your kiss.
âMmm, you missed me?â She whispers with a smirk, her eyes shimmering.
âI always do.â You kiss her forehead. âI made dinner.â
âThank you.â Her fingers run through your hair appreciatively. She pecks you one last time before leaving the embrace to turn around and behold the dinner.
âYouâve always been the better cook.â Zuha shrugs. âMeat and potatoes? Whatâs the occasion?â She chuckles.
âYou tell me.â You smiled as you led her to the table, pulling the chair out and seating her. You pop the wine bottle and fill her glass halfway.
âAnd wine? Seriously, whatâs up with you?â She gasps lightheartedly.
âCâmon, Zuha. Itâs our 4th month together.â You tease.
She gulps down an eighth of the wine with wide eyes. âOh gosh, no, yeah, I knew that!â She smirks with a cocky brow.
âYeah, so just sit back and let me serve you.â You put the wine off to the side, stab a couple of pieces of the meat, spoon some of the silky spud, and lather the rich demi-glace over the ensemble. You graciously offer the plate up for her judgment.
She picks up her fork and tries the meat. Then the mashed potatoes. Then the meat with the sauce.
âHoly God,â Zuha mutters with a full cheek.
You burst out laughing. âGood?â
She nods vigorously, the strands of her bangs bouncing in unison. âMore than goodâ Christ.â
âWell thank you, Zuha. I appreciate that.â
âNo, you! I appreciate you. You have to make this for me all the time.â She scarfs down another bite.Â
âZuha, slow down.â You say with a chuckle. You take a bite off your own plate and relish in your recently learned dish (thank God for YouTube). âSo how was school?â you continued.
The older woman then goes off on a tangent about how a certain law was amended just yesterday, effectively disassembling the defense they had set up for their next trial. She vouched for her argumentâs validity, citing more and more cases you had no knowledge of, and expressed her exasperation with the amendment. How they knew which laws to amend to throw a wrench in Zuhaâs defense really irked her.Â
Despite the obvious anger dormant in her, Zuha glowed. She was passionate, fiercely intelligent, and dedicated. And thatâs what you loved â Zuha just being herself.
And so you finally work up the courage.
ââŠbut, itâs fine. Thatâs the law, I guess. If thatâs what the law says, Iâll just have to find another theoretical basis. Which is a lot of work. But, Iâll manage.â Her brows finally ease as she catches herself in the zone. Her gaze rises, cuts your jaw, and meets back with you. She displays a goofy, toothy grin.
âHey. I love you.â
âWhat?â Her voice ups in pitch as she abruptly stops chewing.
âI said, I love you.â
Zuhaâs mouth hangs slightly open. The faint jazz music from the nearby speakers floats through the dead air.
You chuckle once, slightly nervous. âZuha, I love you.â
âN-no, yeah. I know, I know you do.â
You chuckle again, a bit weaker now. âWell, I meanâŠI was expecting something more than âI knowâ.â
âNo, I-I doâŠyâknowâŠâ Zuha attempts to complete her sentence but trails off after her stuttering, her disposition now uncharacteristic of the confident woman you met.
âYeahâŠâ you nod slowly, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons. âSo can you say it back?â
âWhat?â Zuha tries to tame her ragged breathing.
ââŠsay you love me?â Unconsciously, your voice verges on a plea now. Your hands cramp and your fingers freeze, desperate to cross the meager distance of a few centimeters toward her clenched hand. âIs it too early for that? Or, am I pressuring you? Is that why you canât say it yet?â
âNo, itâs not that. Look, I do, okay?â She sighs, her gaze now dull and inaccurate, rarely meeting yours. âBut IâŠâ
âWhatâs wrong?â
An inhale. âIâm afraid of saying itâŠâ
âAfraid of saying it? W-whyâŠ?â
âBecause saying it makes itâŠâ
âMakes it whatâŠ?â
âReal.â
The mood vastly changes now. The apartment suddenly has this uncomfortable weight, like a heavy load on your shoulders, and youâre quickly getting exhausted.
Your breathing quickens as your eyebrows finally fall into a furrow. âSo thisâŠâ You pointed at both of you. ââŠwasnât?â
âItâs not like that.â
âSo what is it like then?â You whine now, letting go of your cutlery, appetite now obviously extinct.
âI just meant that saying it makes itâŠofficial.â
âThere it is again, Zuha. So was this all unofficial for you? I meanâ what the hell even are we then?â
âWeâreâŠâ
âIâve practically moved out and lived here, Zuha. â You push back the plate. âWas all this nothing to you?â
âItâs not nothing.â Zuhaâs voice finally settles into a whisper.
âWe sleep together, we go to class together, we go home together, we do laundry togetherâ Zuha, we buy groceries together. And all this time youâve been afraid of making it ârealâ? So what is this? W-whatâsâ What are we doing?â Your forehead crinkles as you gulp, studying her face.
Nothing.
âDid you even know itâs our 4th month together?â You continue, voice shaky now.
She looks away, her face turned to the side, looking toward the different dishes that were drying.
âZuha.â
Her eyebrows furrow a bit more in response, and her chin trembles slightly. But she doesnât reply. She looks down instead.
âKazuha.â You drop her nickname.
She looks up at you, her eyes suddenly now crystal-like with the tears finally building. Her chin wobbles as her bottom lip quivers into a pout. Her eyebrows lose all their pointedness as her gaze is disarmed. Â
She cries.
Dammit. You immediately scooch your chair out to walk over to her. You lean down and wrap her in an embrace.
âYouâre mad.â Her voice is a shaky tantrum as she laments the loss of her nickname. The once cool and sleek woman, now a fragile sobbing mess in your hands. Almost like a child, the older woman whimpers into your chest.Â
So, you press your lips against her forehead as you try to console her with a few gentle hushes. âNo, no, no, Iâm sorry. Iâm not mad, Zuha.â
âThen whyâd you call me Kazuha?â Her lips form a pout again as she looks up at you. Your heart aches as you stare at her.
You breathe out a sigh slowly. âBecause Iâm serious, Zuha. I need you to talk to me because this matters to me.â
âOkay.â Zuha sniffles a bit, her gaze studying yours, then she finally nods. âBut Iâm Zuha. Iâll always be Zuha now.â She adds while pounding your chest gently with her clenched fist.
You kiss her forehead a few seconds longer before you part. âOh, jeez, whoâs the child now?â You chuckle softly.
Zuha rolls her eyes as she sniffs, her cheeks are flush and her hair is messy. You carry your chair over to her side of the table so you can now sit in front of her. She dabs a few tissues on her nose and the corner of her eyes before sitting up straight. She tries looking at you, but her eyes wander, failing to hold contact.Â
You reach over to squeeze her palm. âIâm not mad, Zuha. But I am serious. I need to know now.â
She lets go of a long-withheld sigh. She studies your face, weighing her thoughts and words precisely. âIâm scared because the last time I told someone I loved them, they hurt me. And I never make the same mistake twice, you know that about me. So, I justââÂ
Her breathing hitches a bit before sheâs able to gather herself, her tears now refusing to run down her cheeks.
âI never told youâŠeven if I knew I felt it. I was afraid because if we made things real, then itâd be real enough to hurt me. And I never ever want to get hurt again.â Her brows come together in worry, her head now looking down at her lap.
You ease back in your chair. So she did love you back.
âButâŠâ Zuha starts again. âIâm also afraid because I know you want the real thing. And I think the real thing you see is us staying here together and living our lives here. And I donât think we can have that becauseâŠâ
You nod slowly, nervous about what comes next.
ââŠbecause Iâve been taking ballet classes again.â Zuha finally confesses. âM-my old ballet schoolâŠtheyâve always been asking me to come back and try again, saying theyâll save me a spot.â
âYour ballet schoolâŠâ You murmur. ââŠin the Netherlands.â
She nods, eyes a bit red from the sobbing, but scanning your face for your reaction, gauging whatever emotions you feel.
âHuh. So all this time youâve been coming home lateâŠ?â
Zuha nods with a nervous bite to her lip, moving slowly toward her duffel bag on the floor. She unzips the bag to pull out her ballet shoes, a faded rose pink with minimal wear â obviously new.
âYouâve been taking ballet for weeks, then.â Your voice comes out weak. Defeated.Â
ââŠyes.â Zuhaâs voice was weaker and tinier.Â
You remain quiet for a second. âYou told me it was for school, Zuha. You lied.â
âI was gonna tell you, eventually.â
âZuhaââ You speak, voice teetering on annoyed now. You take a small sigh. âWhen was 'eventually' going to be?â
âI donât know, alright? I was working up the courage, but thenâŠâ She bites her lip. âLoving you made it more complicated.â
âComplicated? How?â
âBecause I knew loving you would make the decision harder.â
Oh. The decision.
You finally let go of the weight of the apartment on your shoulders.
âSo youâve decided.â You say, flatly.
âItâsâitâs not like that. You know itâs not like that.â
âThen what is it like, Zuha?â Something was rising in your chest now. You feel your eyebrows furrow and grow heavier, this deep burning feeling churning in your stomach. You scan Zuha, immediately rifling through the numerous details of her face youâve memorized, hoping â pleading â to have just the faintest idea of what was on her mind. (Looking back, your gaze sharpened that day. She felt it too.)
âI was just looking to try it out...â Her words stumble and trip. âBut I canât really drop school again, and my familyâs still staying here, plus I donât have the money for another apartment and tuition, and I absolutely wonât forgive myself if I force you to come with me. I mean, your parents are here, and I know you donât want to leave them. I also know you want to set up a clinic here, and I know youâll be shelling out money you donât have to try and follow me now. So I donâtâŠâ Zuha racks her brain in the pause but ultimately fails. ââŠI donât know.â
You click your tongue on instinct. Zuha winces a bit.
âIâve always been honest with you, Zuha.â Your anger is slowly cooling now as you feel yourself pull back from the conversation â indifference. Zuhaâs eyes suddenly widen as you stand up.
âN-no, wait, hey, please. Donât leave. Where are you going?â
âIâm not going anywhere, Zuha. I just need to think.â
âNo, please, please. I can be more honest with you, please.â
âI know, butâŠâ You sigh out, half hurt, a quarter tired, and on the verge of tears, and a quarter frustrated. âItâs time youâve been more honest with yourself, Zuha.â
You gather the plates from the table slowly as Zuha sits there. Her puffy eyes stare at you helplessly, watching your every move with a pout on her face. She was desperate to forget all that had happened and just hug you. But she doesnât. She knows you. Youâve always needed time and space whenever you guys get into a big fight, and sheâs always respected that.
You decide to sleep with your back turned to Zuha.
-
Your phone buzzes you awake. 5:45. Itâs a Friday.
You try to rise from the bed, but you feel a weight sprawled across your chest. Zuha.Â
In the toss and turn of the night, her arm was now wrapped around you, gripping your side of the covers tightly. You look down and see a pajamaâd leg also interlocked with yours. You sigh as you stare at the top of Zuhaâs head, burrowing closer to your side.
âZuha, I have to go.â You whisper.
She shakes her head.
âZuha, I need to leave.â
âPlease, Iâm sorry.â
âZuha, I meant the clinic.â
Her fingers finally loosen. âSorry, I thought you meantâŠâ
âOh, Zuha.â You squeeze her forearm. âItâs okay. Go back to sleep.â You urge as you finally stand up. You stride a bit, looking around for your bag before you hear the mattress groan. Zuha snatches your hand, her bare face finding your gaze. Her face remains angelic despite the puffiness around her eyes and the pink hue of the tip of her nose. Her straight hair flows down smoothly, making it hard to decipher whether or not she slept at all or was simply blessed with a higher powerâs favor to always wake up perfect. And yet her lips were still in a pout. A weak one, but you know it was there.Â
âAbout our conversation last nightâŠâ
âItâs fine, Zuha. We can talk about it when youâre ready.â Your eyes wander around her flat, thinking back to your first night, a far cry from the very night you just had.
She reels you in gently, slowly, like you were some boat about to be moored. You resist at first, but let her pull you in an embrace. You stand at the foot of the bed while she kneels to try to stay upright.
While her arms envelop your waist, you kiss her forehead, unsure about whether or not a kiss on the forehead was allowed or if the rules of your and Zuhaâs âarrangementâ have forbidden that and only allowed for quick hugs and gentle hand presses.
Zuha pulls you downward lightly, kissing you back on your forehead.
-
Five days pass by after that. Scant conversation was all that remained in Zuhaâs apartment. A few scattered pecks here and there and a couple of hand squeezes that lingered a little too long also served as words unsaid. Youâd sometimes share a brief gaze with Zuha, too, paragraphs and essays of what you wished to say would pour out telepathically, but it never sufficed. The conversation never came.
Youâve been going home more frequently, too. Your parents seemed to understand not to talk to you about it, only settling for small hugs and pats on the back whenever the topic shifted to Zuha or when you thought of her. Your room was never scarce of her, though. On your bedside, you kept a framed picture of Zuha from your 2nd month together, one where her goofy grin was evident, and her nose was scrunched as she watched a movie. The picture helped you sleep soundly.
Did you still love her? Of course. Youâve thought long and hard about dropping everything and going with her to the Netherlands, but it just wouldnât work. Thereâs not enough money in your name for a plane ticket, let alone the funds needed to basically start living there. You couldnât even bear to explain to your parents how your schooling would work. Ultimately, your paths have officially diverged. You know balletâs a strict sport, and so you know long distance will only delay the inevitable. Heck, it might just cause a larger rift, now that you think about it. You already envision the long arguments over the phone about selfishness, not having enough time for each other, setting priorities, and timezone contradictions that would end in either tears, the âEnd Callâ button, or, as you expertly predict, a breakup.
Now, here you are, finally clocking out of the clinic and walking down that same street toward the train station, dreading the old commute. You pass by the food stands, ignoring the scents and aromas of crackling food over coal heat, and stride faster down the sidewalk. Your eyes wander for a bit until you see Fors. You observe the cafe for a bit. It was busy as ever, catering to the nightlife now.Â
You see customers exit the establishment with paper bags in hand, and you briefly remember Zuha. Has she eaten? Probably not. You sigh for a moment, but after a couple of backtracks, end up trudging in to buy a croissant anyway. You tuck away the bread neatly and reroute to her apartment.
Up a couple of alleyways and bypass roads, you spot her apartment with the lights still off. Being a quarter past 5, she was still probably at school, packing up last-minute books and notes. And so, you let yourself in.
Zuhaâs perfume was comforting. It floated through the apartment so much that you could smell her everywhere. Her apartment was still the same, but one part of the wall in the living room was now bare. You walk over to where the couch is and see an overturned picture frame. You flip it back up to see Zuha, the same picture that got her wide smile as she was locked in a spin. You sigh, staring at the picture â at the woman you love. You stroke your thumb over her cheek as you sigh deeply. You make the decision to hang it back up.
You sit down on the couch now, taking everything in: the smell, the hazy stovetop light, the different plants, and the ballet picture. In the quiet stillness of the apartment, your heart aches loudly. You gulp at the thought of not being able to give Zuha what she wanted, how she had to second-guess her dreams just because she ended up loving you too.Â
And then you feel it. Your bottom lip trembles.
God, fuck, no, you think to yourself as you shake your head, sniffling harshly to try and stifle the waterworks. You pull out your phone instead, hoping to just doomscroll and bypass emotions flowing out of you. You open up Instagram, only to close it back down. Your thumb shakes, obviously confused at the conflicting stimuli your body and mind seem to both be shouting. You settle on TikTok, but that doesnât work either.
âHere are 10 simple date night dishes you could make for yourââ
Youâve gotta be kidding me, you shout internally. You immediately exit the app, flinging your phone on the opposite end of the couch. You cross your arms for a bit, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sniffle.Â
But you canât resist. Your fingers leap out.
You reach over to grab your phone, and you pull up YouTube, scroll for a bit, and find a video. Kitri Variation - Bolshoi Ballet. You hesitate, but something tells you to hit play.
The mix of warm and cool lights spread across the large wooden stage as the audience hushed straggling whispers and phrases. The camera wobbled a bit, zoomed out, but then focused shortly. From what you could see, the theater was grand and large, housing hundreds of red suede seats that surrounded the wide stage in a semi-circle. The stage was tall as it was wide, sporting these huge columns of burgundy curtains that cut the performance into sizable chunks and interludes. With the whole place now settling into quiet, music finally commences. A few booms and crescendos of classical music filled the theater as the strings started to pick up. The plucks and twangs of instruments invited the audience to a trance-like state, focusing on the next performer striding toward the center.Â
And there she was â Kazuha. Younger, a bit shorter, but with her shining smile still preserved and untouched after all these years. The spotlight cast a graceful shadow on the floor.
After a beat of silence, Zuha erupted in movement. She leaped and pounced and fell and zig-zagged across the stage. Her arms were graceful and strong, and would occasionally whip into shape. Sheâd perform on pointe, showing off her balanced and calculated lines while maintaining this air of pomp. With a couple of dips and hops, her face came into view. Her adorable face showed off a wide grin as her nose scrunched.
You chuckle softly, the light from your phone illuminating your face and part of the darkness that shrouded the living room, beyond the reach of her lamp in the corner and the kitchen lights. The lights bounce off the tears slowly creeping down your cheek. You laugh helplessly. âJesus, I look so stupid.â
You keep watching, though.
You chuckle, glassy-eyed, as Zuha flitted through the stage with a smile, visions of the time you spent with her flooding your mind. You remember the smirks sheâd make or the glares sheâd produce. Hell, you remember her laugh whenever she had to take care of you when you were too sick to function.
The video ended with roars of applause and cheers as Zuha took a small bow at the end before retreating offstage.
You put the phone down to finally wipe some of the tears running down the corner of your eyes, sniffling weakly as you groan out a laugh. The tremble in your lip slowly starts to settle. You lean back on the headrest, your stare landing on the apartment ceiling. You rest your puffy eyes before slowly drifting off to sleep, clutching the Fors paperbag close to you.
-
The next thing you know, you hear your name.
âHey.â
Your eyes shift for a bit, discerning reality from sleep.
You feel a poke on your cheek.
âHave you been here long?â You open your eyes to see Zuha staring right back at you, her arm atop the sofa headrest, her eyes wide as she observes. She wore a plain white t-shirt paired with some high-waisted jeans â a casual day at school, it seemed.
Youâre groggy, but you take a quick glance at the time. 7:12.
âI guess so.â You whisper as Zuha adjusts when you finally sit up.
âHey, your eyes.â Her hand travels upward to cup your cheek. âHave you been crying?â
You shake your head minutely. âI donât know.â
âWhatâs wrong?â Her eyes fall down toward your unlocked phone. On her video. On the hanging ballet portrait.
You scan the emotions running through Zuha. She stalls for a bit, digesting in silence. Then a sigh.
âCould you tell I was nervous?â She nods toward your phone.
âNo, not at all.â
âWell, I was. My knees trembled before and after I got on that stage. Puked a couple times, too.â
âYou were incredible, Zuha. Youâve always been incredible.â
She smiles subtly. Her eyes were puffy as well.
âHey, listenââ
âYou should do it.â You cut her off.Â
âWhat?â
âThe Netherlands.â
âYou want me toâŠgo?â
âYes. And I know you never really meant to ask for my permission, Zuha.â You cup her face. âBut, Iâm sure youâd still be a heck of a lawyer if you decide to come back, though.â
She briefly bites her lip, processing what you just said.
âYou never had to lie to me, you know? I donât want you to think for a second that I would have stopped you from going back to ballet. Iâve seen the way your eyes light up whenever we talk about it. You also know Iâve caught you watching your old videos before.â
Her head droops, but you lift it back up gently. You smile through the blade of her eyes.
âLook, I love you, Zuha. Not just the idea of being with you.â You rub a stray tear away from her eye. âAnd if loving you means you have to go awayâŠâ You bite the corner of your lip slightly as you nod. âThen thatâs fine. My love stays the same.â
You try to slow time, but only muster up the power to stop the physical environment. Clocks halt, cars brake, stars stall. But not Zuha. Zuha breathes slowly as she locks eyes with you.
âI love you too,â she speaks in a whisper, getting shy at the overdue reply. âOh God, I love you. Iâm in love with you. You have my whole heart.â Her eyes are stunted waterfalls as she pouts up at you, finally baring herself wholly to you. This was Zuha â not the ballerina, not the lawyer, not the daughter. Just Zuha.
She gasps, revitalized by newfound oxygen, as if saying I love you back was a long, foreign feeling to her lips that sheâs finally found again.Â
She inhales more now. âGosh, I love you, and Iâm sorry for lying to youâ for going behind your back, for coming home late, and for not telling you. I-I should have told you because I owe that to you. Because I shouldnât hurt you. Because I love you.â
You sniff back a sob, but you ultimately nod. âZuha, I already forgave you the morning after you finally told me. I only wish you'd been more honest with me. I would have understood, yâknow?â Her eyebrows crease, but you kiss the top of her head, whispering into her hair as you hold her close. âIâve been in love with you for so long, you big baby.â
She rubs her eyes with the back of her wrists, chuckling stupidly as she realizes how her puffy eyes and tantrum must have looked: childish. She grins as her nose scrunches, but she wills it away.
âYou donât have to keep hiding that.â You flick your thumb lightly at her forehead. âJustâŠgrin whenever you want to, laugh whenever you want to, do ballet whenever you really want to.â
A slight pout from her as she breathes out.
âThe Zuha I know doesnât need permission from anyone,â you continue.
She scoffs it off faintly with a shake of her head. âThatâs ridiculous.â
âIâm serious, yâknow. Thereâs a Zuha inside you thatâs tough and enduring.â You slide a part of her locks behind her ear. âNot like Lawyer Kazuha. No, this Zuha is even tougher. This Zuhaâs been tough for a very long time. And she doesnât care what other people think. At least, thatâs what she hopes for. Because deep down, sheâs sweet. Sheâs warm. She laughs. She adores sleeping in. But she hides these things by being tough, thinking that letting them slip through the seams means weakness.â You take her face into your palms. Your thumb grazes her cheeks slowly. âBut itâs not. Iâve seen her let go and just be herself. And in all of those moments, Iâve always thought of how tough she is, tough enough to laugh and be foolish and joke at her own expense. Tough enough to be vulnerable and to keep chasing passions despite the things sheâs gone through in life. Tough enough to allow herself to scrunch her nose.â You tap the end of her nose gently.
âI love you.â She says in a low whisper. âAnd I missed you.â
You chuckle. âI know, Zuha. I love you, and I missed you, too.â
She buries her face into your chest as you wrap her in a small embrace, inhaling your scent as you breathe. Her hand reaches up from her side toward you, but she accidentally hits the paper bag.
âThat for me?â Zuhaâs face suddenly beams, like the tears that had just fallen were inconsequential to the now more important matter: bread.
âItâs for us, you selfish girl.â You chide as you prop yourself up on the couch to open the bag, pulling out the two croissants and placing them both on a plate of Fors tissue paper. âItâs still freshâŠâ You poke a floppy part in Zuhaâs croissant. It doesnât bounce back. ââŠyou can have mine instead.â
Her nose scrunches for longer now. She gives a grin, flashing off her pearly whites, before opening her mouth.
âWhat?â You ask.
Her eyebrows furrow as she pouts, her cheeks rounding out her face. She points to her mouth wordlessly, almost cartoonishly impatient.
âJeez, you really must have missed me if youâre acting like that.â You set aside your own croissant to focus on Zuhaâs. She hums lightly as she opens up once again.
âFeed me both croissants, and Iâll show you how else Iâve missed you.â
-
The reuniting kiss with Zuha is all tongue, teeth, and tension. Her hands immediately trail upwards to crumple the hairs on the back of your head, pushing you towards her mouth. She releases a sloppy, hot exhale as your lips separate, sounding off whenever both of you reposition. You feel her pushing against you, pressing her lips further and further, licking, sucking, and sometimes biting.
âZuha, wait.â
âMmph. Fuck no.â She straddles you now, both hands on the sides of your face as she makes you look up at her. Her thumb presses lightly on your chin, making your jaw push back and opening your mouth.
Then she spits inside.
âOh, fuck.â You wheeze out as you drink the warm saliva Zuha just produced.Â
âYou like that?â A husky whisper.
You nod profusely.
She dives back in to make out with you and then pulls back again to spit more in your mouth. Zuha repeats this for a while, roughly rocking against your clothed crotch. A chorus of names and whispers fills the small apartment, the church-like atmosphere accentuated by the warm orange glow of a lamp off to the side. This was worship and sacrilege at the same time â you gnashed teeth, spoke in tongues, and sought salivation.
âUgh!â You groan out as Zuha pulls back on your hair sharply, your head slamming back on the sofa. Her arms wrap around your head as she looks down on you, her wavy hair draping downward. With vigor, Zuha grinds her hips in a circle, sliding against your stiff member, her eyes watching your every reaction.
âOhâoh fuck, yes.â Her mouth forms an âOâ as she gasps your name, her breath colliding with yours. She moans into your mouth, holding you close, teasing you with a kiss, but only ever gracing you with light brushes against your lips.
Zuha suddenly rips your hands off her slim waist, lowering them down to her ass, the roundness of her cheeks ever felt through her tight denims. You squeeze courteously as you both moan in unison. You hear your name and other profanities spill forth from her mouth, her words slurring and seething as she desperately sated herself on dry humping you.
You inhale quickly as you abruptly stand up, carrying her lithe body as she clings onto your shoulders. âMmm, room time?â
âFucking do me on the kitchen counter.â She breathes out.
You shove your tongue into her mouth as you march over toward the kitchen. You hear the separate thuds of Zuhaâs heels fall to the floor as she tightens her legs around you. With restraint, you finally withdraw from her lips (Zuhaâs tongue was quite persuasive) and plop her down on the tiled countertop just beside her small rice cooker as you work on unbuttoning her jeans. Zuha leans back as she bites her lip, her gaze a blade waiting for your next move. You finally slide her pants off, revealing the smooth skin of her hips, her round, muscly thighs, and the wet spot on her light-colored panties. You take a deep whiff of her scent, the salty, sweaty, heady musk invading your nostrils, making your cock flex painfully. You release a rugged breath as you help Zuha lift her ass to slide off her panties. You consider fucking her there and then, but you fall to your knees and succumb to your baser desires.
You give her shaven pussy a long experimental lick.
Zuha squeals out at the surprise. âOh God, yes, yes, I needed this, too. Oh, I need you so much.â
You hook your arms around her thighs, falling into the usual motions of routine. She was atop, in all her sexy glory, and you were down there once more, adoring and venerating the wet folds before you. You keep up a consistent stroke, tonguing and licking her clit as you rub two fingers across her splayed pussy. You alternate a few times, kissing her sex and licking the inside of her meaty thighs, watching Zuha groan or mewl depending on where your tongue dared to go. After a few more licks, you switch to a slower pace while sucking on her nub. Her leaking juices drip down the grooves of her crotch and the crevice of asscheeks, making the rim of her ass glisten. Zuha moans out slower now, her chest rising and falling as the tempo shifts. You coat your index and middle finger with her liquids before slowly entering her warmth.
âJesus, fuck!â She nods as you look up at her, her right hand confused whether to tense and pull on your hair or ease and grip the back of your neck.
She opts for the former.
Your scalp stings, but the joy of pleasing Zuha far outweighs any pain she inflicted. You trail your fingers from her pussy and down to her tight rim. She squeals in surprise as you lose count of how much your name has been recited this night. With careful entry, you breach her tight asshole. A different kind of warmth wraps your fingers now â a hotter and tighter muscle, so paradoxical it keeps you inside when you want to pull out but eagerly sucks you back in when you want to penetrate. Zuha quickly verges on her release, the stimulation of all her holes making her legs twitch and squirm on your shoulders. Her voice picks up in pitch now as she closes her eyes in pent-up libido, her brows harshly furrowing and pointing to her ceiling, her hair flowing wildly with some sticking to her neck and forehead sweat. Bringing your other hand into play, you lick on her swelling clit as you finger both her holes.
âMotherfucker!â Iâm yours, Iâm all yours. Take me, make me cum. Please!â She runs her fingers through her own hair, her body twitching and her breath ragged as she locks you deeper between her legs.
With a final rub of your thumb on her clit, she cums. Wasting no time, you immediately get to work slurping up her pussy lips as her orgasm continues. You indulge in the tangy, salty mix of sex and love Zuha was offering, licking in long vertical strokes, making sure to cover wherever you havenât covered yet. Her twitches die down slowly as her high subsides. Your tongue ventures lower again, reaching her puckered rim as you eat her out gently, matching her easing sighs and exhales, helping her return to baseline. Her eyes finally catch your gaze, staring at you and the highly obscene act you were committing.
âYou feel good?â You whisper as you kiss the inside of her legs before rising up from the tiled floor.
Her arms wrap around your neck to pull you in. âSo much fucking better now.â She whispers before smiling to kiss your cheek. She exhales deeply, angling your head to the side to kiss your neck sweetly.
You reach the smooth line of her back, fingers running up and down to feel her body, toned with constant discipline but curvy enough to grip and squeeze erotic flesh. You help remove the white t-shirt and throw it across the room. Zuha does the same, trailing her hand up from your abdomen and to your pecs before pulling your shirt off. Her palm briefly brushes your hardened nipples. You wince unexpectedly.
âStill sensitive?â She coos sweetly.
You chuckle and nod.
Her plotting eyes stare at you, a trance-like gaze taking over now, as she brings her hands to your shoulder blades, making you puff out your chest. Without breaking eye contact, she lowers her head to lick your nipple.
âZuha.â You seethe through gritted teeth.
âHm?â She continues to lick, spreading saliva around the areola. She licks the other one now, wrapping her lips around to suckle gently.
âOh fuck, Zuha.â
âWhat is it?â Her head moves with each long lick, positioning and repositioning her tongue to get better angles. She releases the bud from her mouth to look up at you. âCâmon, tell me.â Her voice is a raspy whisper now.
âThat feels good.â You wince out.
âWhat does?â She licks counterclockwise on your areola, avoiding the center. âThis?â The flat of her tongue travels across your nipple.
âOrâŠâ Zuha pulls back a bit. ââŠthis?â She wraps her mouth around your whole nipple, her steaming mouth suckling while her tongue flicks the hardened tip.
âGah, fuck! Y-Yes, Zuha, both. Both feel good.â Your brain processes the electricity traveling down your chest and up your spine. You were ticklish, but you felt yourself leaning in closer to Zuha.
Expertly, you feel her legs leave your lower back as her feet stop at the waistband of your boxers. She continues the assault on your sensitive bud, all while pushing your underwear downward, releasing your flexing shaft.Â
You let out an impressed chuckle. âUmâŠâ
âBallet.â Zuha boasts with a strange mixture of horny pride evident in her voice as she speaks.
You comply, kicking the boxers away, your rod now level with her steaming pussy. With her other hand riding up your chest, her fingers roll your left nipple as her mouth latches onto the right. You squirm slightly, the warmth of her tongue slathering across your pebbling nip, as you grip the overhead handles of the cupboards. Her right hand sneakily slips in between your bodies, tracing down your abdomen and finally to your hard cock. You jolt forward on instinct, roughing your erection along Zuhaâs palm. She giggles sweetly, her breath betraying how amused she is at the situation. She stops licking your chest for a bit to spit on her hand before returning it to your impatient shaft. She coats the length with her spit and works you, twisting and pulling along, her thumb glossing over the slightly reddened tip.
âGod, it was always so fucking big.â She leans in, a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer. Your foreheads touch now, your breaths colliding as her chest rises and falls. Her vanilla-scented hair was a mess, covering most of her features, but she made sure you could see her face in open-mouthed pleasure. She jerks you off for a couple more minutes, matching each moan you make with her own, before rubbing your cockhead against her slick entrance. You both groan simultaneously. You take the hint and prop both Zuhaâs arms around your neck as you step in closer, palm guiding the tip, aiming at her core. You push your shaft a few times, the underside rubbing the ridge of her pussy lips, coating and lubricating it, teasing her in the process.
âPlease.â She whimpers.
âBegging?â You chuckle, surprised. âThatâs new.â
âShut up. Iâve just been really needyâŠâ She whispers, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
âNo, no, I like it. Itâs hot.â You give her a peck, once on the lips and once on the forehead.
âFuck me then. Please.â
With a long stroke, you thrusted in. She cries out with a whip of her head, hitting the hanging cupboards with a thud.
âShit!â Zuha laughs through the blunder, planting a kiss on your lips to keep the mood going. Her arms hook speedily around your neck as her legs interlock just at the small of your back.
âCareful.â You hiss through the kisses you trailed along the side of her jaw. You grip her waist as you thrust forward, fucking her against the cupboards more carefully now. You pull back to feel your length smoothly retreat from her tight groin, her heat contrasting with the temperature of her apartment. You slowly push back in, drawing out a long moan from Zuha, her brows furrowing as she shuts her eyes.
âYes, yes, fill meâ God.â She cries out, her nails scratching and gripping your traps as her shins push you forward. You tighten your hold on her sides, squeezing and bruising her waist, your digits digging into her curves. You fuck her deep and strong, leaning into your strokes as you show her how much you missed her. You hear her walls squelch around your cock with every entry, lubing up and down your meat. The sound is erotic, your bodies the instruments, her cries the accompaniment.
Zuha is tight and accepting, but also combative â she would bite your earlobe, pull on your hair, or scratch the line of your back. When your lips strayed too far, sheâd pull you back in. When youâd deviate from the angle she likes, sheâd lock her legs tighter. It was a struggle for control, really â a competition to show whoâs missed the other more, and youâve definitely missed her.
And so you slow down abruptly, shocking Zuha.
âW-what are youââ
âBallet, right?â You grip her full thigh, shifting her right leg to prop it on your shoulder, pulling her body toward you in the process. She jerks forward with a deep groan as you remain locked inside her, her body finally angling sideward to accommodate the new position. You pressed against her deeper now, the position granting you new grounds to explore.
âOh fuckâ oh fuck, youâre so deepâŠâ Zuhaâs moans come from her diaphragm now. âYouâre so deep in me. Oh God, oh God yes, yes.â
You take a look at her thighs, how perfectly succulent they are, inheriting the roundness from her ass as it tapers off to her sexy, toned legs. Her calf rests on the left side of your head as your cock spears her in twain. You were in the middle of it all, bearing witness to Zuhaâs undoing. Her head rests against the tiled kitchen wall with her arms spilled over past the rice cooker and sink, steadying and gripping with all her ability.
You place a hand on the knee atop your shoulder, simultaneously reaching down to palm her exposed breast. You start slow at first with experimental strokes, feeling out the new angle and Zuhaâs novel tightness. You allow her left leg to hang free in the space between your legs, finally giving you the most amount of access you could have, driving your midriff and groin flush against the inside of her thigh.
âHoly fuck.â Zuha whimpers.
âAre you okay?â You gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead.
âYouâre splitting me. Youâre hitting me so deep. Oh shitâ Christ!â Zuha doesnât even stare at you now. Her lids remain closed, brows scrunched in permanent euphoria.
You tighten your hold on her wanton thigh while rolling her hardened nip between your fingers. With every mewl and cry, you thrust back deeper into Zuha, analyzing the subtle changes in her face and expression, evaluating how you could switch up every pound, every rail into her greedy sex. Your cock strains each time you thrust, the tense muscle invading her warm walls repeatedly, driving itself to find release.
âJesus, I could fuck you like this every day.â You release a quick exhale.Â
âShit, yes, please. I want that, oh fuck I want that.â
âYeah? You want me to fuck you like this every day, Zuha? You wanna be bent over, split in half, every time, hm?â You pick up the pace.
âGod, yes!â She yelps now.
âMhm, yeah? You want me to pound away at you, while you just take it? You want me to just fuck you over every surface in this apartment?â You time your thrusts right, creating a rhythm from the constant thud on the cupboards.Â
Zuha grips you, nails digging into your forearm, as you rough your way into her, your cock pulsing eagerly, hitting just the right spots to have her droning on and on with an incohesive hum.
âAnswer.â You whisper low, a hand coming down to slap her ass cheek.
âYes! Please, oh pleaseâŠâ
âYeah, I bet youâre gonna miss me when youâre in the Netherlands, huh? You want me to fuck you there, too, hm? Fuck you all around your small flat just before class? Fuck you until you leak cum while youâre practicing?â
âY-yes!â Fuck, fuck, fuck, I want that, please. Itâs you, itâs you, I only want you, itâs so different when itâs you. Shitâ I need you and this fucking cock of yours. Oh fuck! My fingers arenât enough, please.â She pleads, whispering rapidly.
âYou only want me, huh?â
âOh God, yes, I only want you...â Zuha gulps, her breathing now ragged and exhausted. âJ-justâ Come with me to the Netherlands. I canât take it when youâre not here. Come fuck me there, too.â
The words stumble from Zuhaâs lips unintentionally. Was she delirious? Maybe. Her slurred speech definitely didnât help her case. Youâre stunned, so you suddenly miss a beat, breaking the rhythm. But hearing her only wanting you made you grind harder, so you compensate on your next pump. You rub a particular spot, which makes Zuha twitch accidentally, her vice walls clamping around your meat. You lurch forward to steady yourself, your chest rising and falling.
âFuck it. Iâll follow you all around the world just to have you like this.â Your fingers gloss over her trim thigh muscle, gripping her skin tightly as you plough over and over again. She winces a bit as your digits sink deeper into her curves. âBent. Twisted. Gripped. Chased. Owned.â
âI-Iâm yours. Iâm yoursâŠâ
Having had enough of splitting her in half sideways, you ease up on the pistoning of your hips. You gently lower Zuhaâs shin off of your shoulder, putting her leg down, allowing her to regain her balance gracefully, all while you remain hilted in her. The corkscrew sensation of her slick sends tingles through your thighs as you groan out softly. Zuha now grips the countertop while sheâs bent over, her hair flowing down her bare back, apple-shaped ass fully exposed and impaled. You push the remaining length of your meat in her, gripping and bringing her waist up as you press against her back. Zuha leans her head on your shoulder.
âHey.â She whispers.
âYeah?â You whisper back.
âSay you love me...â
âI-I love you, Zuha.â You thrust once.
She bites her lip in the process of suppressing a moan. She rolls her hips slowly. âAgain.â
âG-Godâ I love you, Zuha.â You pull back only to slam back in firmly.
âYouâŠwhaâwhat do youâŠWhat do you love about me?â Her eyes close as she cries out.
âWellâŠI love your neck.â You lick the length of her neck up to her earlobe. You grip her waist tighter, fingers ridging on the sleek lines of her abs. You thrust once. This makes her whimper and hiss.
âI love your tits.â You cup around to the front and take her breasts in both your hands. âHow they feel, how soft they are, how hard your nipples can be.â You run your fingers across the sensitive peaks as you ram it in her again. She emits a shaky moan.
âI love this ass of yours.â You bring a palm down hard, striking the pound of flesh. A mix of a gasp and a scream falls from her mouth, her body in a rigid arch as you support her from behind. âLove how huge it is, how round your cheeks are when I cup it, and how tight it can be.â You reach down with your thumb, making a circle motion at the rim of her ass, teasing entrance and reaping the sounds Zuha makes.Â
âAnd I love your pussy.â You hold her sides once more before giving a shallow thrust. âYou grip me so well, so hot and tight around my cock like this. Love how much youâre leaking all over me, how good you take me each time.â
Zuha hisses, sucking air. âYes-yes-yes, Iâll take all of you.â
You finally thrust hard and quick, your thighs banging repeatedly on the base cabinet doors. Zuha lurches forward when you go faster, holding tighter on whatever she can grip, her body being pushed and pulled by the force of your rod poking her insides.
âGod, yes, you do me so good, you do me so fucking good.â Her lips are filthy, speaking ill and cursing.
You bottom out over and over again, pressuring her velvety walls as you thrust to the hilt each time. The sound of skin and flesh slapping against each other intoxicates you, riling you to keep going. You look downward, eyes trailing from the line of her back, to your lubricated length â it was hypnotic seeing her pussy lips spreading to accommodate your length and girth, how each push forward sends your meat disappearing deeper within her body. You slap an asscheek. The plump curve jiggles at the contact.
âJesus Christ, Zuha, youâre amazing.â The bumps and bangs of your legs on her kitchen cabinets have surely annoyed some of Zuhaâs neighbors, but you donât care. Back and forth, her body meets yours precisely, a moan clawing its way out of her throat each time you penetrate. But the pleasure eventually reaches an apex. You feel her walls clamp on you tighter. She hums and mumbles incoherently, desperately attempting to fill the silence and verbalize the torrent of feelings passing through her. Sheâs close.
âYou gonna c-cum?â You wheeze out.
âIâm gonna fucking cum again.â
âShit, okay, okay, just hold it! Iâm closeââ
âFuck, please!â She begs, her tone coming out a little harsher than she intended. Zuhaâs hand grips the back of your head as she angles her face sideward. Her tongue surges into your mouth in between dirty whispers. âJust cum with me, please. Oh God, I canât take itâ Please, cum with me.âÂ
You pound away at Zuha, her cheeks bouncing and recoiling as you railed her harder. Her head lurches forward weakly, consciousness slipping as you prolonged her edge. You close your eyes to feel more of her, how her wet pussy wraps each inch of your length, how each texture sparks a sound from Zuha, how warm youâd be if you just stay planted inside. Your breathing quickens as you feel the coil deep within you.
âZ-Zuha! I-Iâmââ
âYes! Yes! Oh my God, yes!â Zuha lets herself go. âT-Tell me you love me!â
âWhat?ââ Youâre confused, but your thrusts are on autopilot.
âTell me you love meâŠWhen you cum, tell me you love me.â
This spurs you on. âShit! I-I love youâ Holy fuck!â I love you, I love you so fucking muchâŠâ Your fingers dig into her sides as you pursue a deeper stroke.
She winces. âOh fuck, right there, yes, yes, I love you, I love youâŠâ
The tension in your core finally shatters as you orgasm vehemently. You burst deep between her twitching legs and her grasping cunt. You cum forcefully, sending off copious ropes of your seed, painting her insides white. You groan weakly, repeating her name like a hymn or prayer a devotee would voice whenever their faith was tested or whenever they fell to their knees to sing praise. You hump at Zuha erratically, groaning as you dump everything you had inside her, an offering to the temple that is her body.
Zuhaâs voice is gone at this point. She cums, a silent gasp in the sea of hair splayed on her face. She twitches and jerks occasionally, the onslaught of orgasm writhing out of her in surges. Her voice reaches a new pitch, exhales leaving her in short, vulnerable bursts. Her slick flows down your length, her walls clamping down on you as she rides her high. You hold her closer, hugging her as she pushes and shudders back, desperate to keep your length breached and wedged in her pussy.
The burden of the orgasm â the best orgasm youâve both had, ever â finally dissipates for both of you. You wobble forward, hugging Zuhaâs slim body as you lay your weight slightly on her. Zuha steadies both your bodies by propping her arms on the counter. Your palms trail down her arms to hold her hands. Your breathing syncs up as your forehead touches her back, just a few inches before her nape. You remain hilted, your cock still warm.
âWell.â She breaks the silence.
âYeah?â You kiss a spot on the midpoint of her spine.
âProbably canât get to ballet class tomorrow.â
You chuckle as you stand closer. Her walls squeeze slightly at the minuscule movement. You kiss up to the back of her head now, smooching her hair, then to her ear, then to her cheek. Her round eyes land on you, her stare dull, disarmed, diminished â glazed with the afterglow of sex, but made soft with a deep lingering affection â affection you can now confidently name love.
âYou alright?â You laugh gently as you softly bump your head on hers.
âNever been better.â She gives you a peck. âSo thatâs what it took for you to fuck me like that, huh?â
âShut up.â You chuckle. You pull out of her walls, a moan coming out of her as you depart. âCouldâve told me you loved me sooner if you wanted it that bad.â You say with a small smack of her thigh.
She gasps in fake hurt. âYou diss me as you pull out? I rescind my declaration then.â Zuha turns around slowly, still leaning on the counter for stability. âPlus, Iâm the one usually surprising you when we fuckâ Oh, sorry. When we make love.â She chides. Zuha leans back, the light catching her angle and casting subtle shadows across her body. Her tall, athletic frame is made a thousand times better by the fact that she is still fully naked. Her toned and sculpted midriff is completely on display, the result of consistent training and commitment, creating the prominent lines you were gawking at. You make a mental note to ravish them later.
âGosh, youâre really sexy.â You blurt.
A grin appears. Her nose scrunches for longer now, crescent eyes accenting the dimples on her cheeks as she laughs. She lightly punches your shoulder, but quickly reels you back in by the forearm. She wraps herself around you, your forearms tangling around her neck in an embrace. âYouâre sweet.â
You kiss her crown lightly, whispering slowly. âYouâre beautiful.âÂ
She sighs, her gaze studying you, a stiletto point threatening to pierce, but no cuts come. She sheathes the blade, a pout surfacing in its place. âIâve alwaysâŠlovedâŠthat about you.â Her lips linger on the word âloveâ, its utterance a paradox between novel and natural. She says it carefully, like setting down delicate china you bring out only once in a while â fragile and vulnerably open to destruction. âThe way youâd just tell me things. Me. The things you say are to me, and not just to who I think I am or who I think I should be. To Zuha.â
You smile lightly at the nickname you gave her. âZuha suits you better. Plus, I donât know you any other way.â You scramble around her kitchen, wearing your boxers and shirt, piling up garments, and gathering other flung articles of clothing (Zuhaâs panties landed on a plant).
âWouldnât want it any other way, either.â Zuha raises her arms in a stretch, her abs and back muscles flex as she wrings out the (s)exhaustion from her system. She walks by you, giving you a light peck on the cheek before sashaying into the bathroom.
You stride down the hall and back into her room, the place where it all began. The space was the same, except her sheets were pink now, a more lush color compared to the pastel blue you had lain on that first night. You dump the pile in the basket and tidy up some more scattered socks and pants. On Zuhaâs side of the bed, propped up on her end table and adjacent to her earrings, you see a new, smaller picture frame: you. A picture of you on your 3rd date with Zuha. You were holding two large paper bags of groceries, vegetables, and cartons peeking out the top. Hooked on your elbows were more bags â one with paper towels, another with soap and sponges. And in your mouth, wedged between your teeth, was a Fors croissant. You chuckle once as you adjust the frame.
âI think thatâs when I realized I was falling in love with you.â
You turn around to see Zuha adjusting her pajamas, her shirt clinging to her slim frame, wet hair tied in a high bun, a towel hanging from her shoulder. She gives a small smile before hooking the towel off to the side of the door.
âBut this was whenâŠâ You start.
âMhm. Barely a week since we started dating.â She kicks around a loose carpet tuft. âI guess Iâve loved you since then.âÂ
She shifts around awkwardly, but continues. âHey, about that night you told me you loved me.â
âYeah?â
âDonât even think for a second that I hesitated because I wasnât serious with youâ with us.â
âI know.â
âGood. Because I was. I am. I justâŠI was just scared.â
âI know, Zuha. I know you were. But I appreciate you telling me. Thank you.â
âOkay, good,â she says with a nod.
Zuha gracefully moves over toward the bed, shifting the sheets and making space for you. She sits, propping her back on the headboard, and brings the covers up to her knees, eagerly waiting for you.
You comply, scooching beside her and leaning back similarly. She lays her head on your shoulder, her gaze only pointing straight ahead.
âDid you mean it?â You ask.
âMean what?â She asks back.
âYou wanting me to come with you. To the Netherlands. Or was that justâŠsex?â
A deep inhale, then a long sigh. âOf course I want you to come with me.â Her voice is smaller now, knees locking closer, and fingers gripping tighter. âI could barely handle you not coming home, not coming to me. How much more could I take being so far away from you?â
You take note of the new tone in Zuhaâs voice. There is this strong vulnerability to her now, and her honesty only serves to strengthen her person, not weaken her fortitude. Her posture is small, but her heart is larger now. Long past inhibitions about baring so-called âweaknessesâ, acknowledging strong emotions, and leaving ample space to be herself have now been dissolved.
âOh, God, I want to come with you too. But I really canât just up and leave my parents, Zuha. I barely have enough to help with rent if I do come with you.â The reality resurfaces and weighs on both of you. Zuha still had to leave, and you still had to stay.
âI know.â She mumbles.
You put an arm around her as she tucks her head on your chest, nearer your chin.
âBut I donât want to break up.â She murmurs against your shirt.
âI donât want to, either.â
âDo we really have to choose?â A quiet whine leaves her lips.
âWe might have to.â You rub her shoulder, tracing circles on her soft skin.
âIf we doâŠbreak up,â Her voice cracks a bit, but she recovers with a sniffle and a cough. âIâd rather we do it on good terms now and not down the line when weâre at each otherâs throats or over the phone.â
You exhale gently. âIâd rather have that too.â
You two stay silent for a while.
âDo you want to break up?â A whisper from Zuha so small you think twice about hearing it. She doesnât look at you.
âNever.â You whisper, too. You stare at the back of her head and the curve of her cheek, her lashes moving as she blinks.
Zuha suddenly sits up, propping her palms flat on your chest, head looking toward you now. The blade returns to her eyes, lamp light glinting off her gaze. âSo we donât. We never will.â
âCan you do long distance?â
âI will if itâs you.â
âWhat happens if we both get busy? And we fight? And we lose time for each other?â
âIâd still want you.â
âBe realistic, Zuha.â
âI am.â Do you still feel the cuts of her gaze? You do. Swift slices of her pupils gash your arms, neck, and lips. She shakes her head with a sigh. âIâd still want you. The same awkward, speaking-to-windows, lukewarm-coffee-loving, nerd in scrubs. We can make it work.â Her hand cups your cheek now, minuscule lights like flecks sprinkle her pupils â tears.
You lean your head into her palm, savoring the warmth of her skin stroking your face.
She takes a gulp. âIf we get busy, then we get busy. If we fight, then we fight. If we lose time, then we lose it. But, Iâm still coming back to you.â
You shift on the bed a bit, linking your arms around her neck, allowing Zuha to put her chin on your chest. Her body lies on top of yours as she stares up at you while hugging your torso. You breathe slowly with her.
âZuha, Iâm still coming back to you, too. But I donât want to lose time for you. I donât want to fight with you. I donât want to see us that way.â
âI donât want to, either! But Iâd rather have that than not have you at all.â
âOh, Zuha.â You take her face in your hands, thumbs adjusting stray hairs and tucking it behind her ear.
âNo! You canâtâ Donât do that. Donât âOh, Zuhaâ me.â She veers her head away from your grasp, eyes staring at you for a beat. She bites her lip, stifling a sob. âI just got you backâŠâ She chokes up, a free tear sliding down the side of her cheek.
You hush her gently as you bite back a sob of your own. âI know, Zuha. I know.â
âAnd donâtââ She gulps, trying to find the words. âDonât think Iâm childish for finally wanting something for myself, enough to be selfish about itâ enough for me to throw tantrums over it like a stupid kid.â
âZuha, I would never.â
âI justâŠâ Her brows furrow as she looks up. âWhy canât I have what I want?â Her face vanishes into your chest, tears soaking your shirt as you rub her shoulder blades.Â
She cries.Â
There it is: the plea Zuha has just breathed into existence. A whine in the face of the world. A conniption so ego-tistical, so selfish, and so immature, itâs childlike.Â
And so you respond in kind.
You stiffen up your upper lip, extinguishing the bawl attempting to bubble and rise. You grab her palm, urging her to look up at you. âFuck it. Letâs do it. Letâs just give it a shot.â
-
ââŠand youâve got your room key?â
âI do.â You tap your chest, feeling the keycard you slipped into your breast pocket earlier.
âPassport?â
You show your phone camera a slim browned-leather keeper. âI have it here, Mom.â
âExtra money?â Your dad pipes up now.
âEnough for dinner and a cab back to the hotel.â
âGood man.â
âDo you have enough data for your maps?â Your mom stutters now, the nerves evident in the shakiness of her question.
âIâm not that dumb, guys. I got this.â A chuckle leaves you.
âAlright. Just be safe, and come home safe. Good luck.â With a sigh, your parents slowly let you go. The phone clicks off.Â
Now, finally, on to the agenda. The show had just finished, with droves of people moving across the wide theater lobby, walking briskly to wherever their plans tell them to go. The carpeted floor effectively muffles the numerous footfalls, isolating only the sounds of conversation. Hushed words fly, whispers creep, and voices adjust. You remain silent, though, this stalwart constant standing still in the blur. A few shoulders whip past you, polite apologies making their way into your ears as compensation. A few adjustments to your gait and stride, and youâre all good. Nothing could really ruin your mood now.
You spot an empty bench in the atrium, this comforting spot illuminating to ease the aches of pacing. The sleek padded cushion groans, catching your full weight as you lean back to stretch. Your legs are crossed as you check the time. 8:22. You could stay a few more minutes. Or hours. You just had to know.
And so you go through the routine of anybody whoâs socially awkward and unfortunate enough to be stuck in a public place: check your phone, stare at the ceiling, go to the bathroom (without actually peeing), and then back to the phone. Itâs a cycle, really. A cycle youâre very much proud of, because youâve gotten quite good at appearing like a normal person on the outside. A few pretend phone calls? Amazing play. Pseudo-interest in the shows playing next week and all the minute details of their posters? Absolutely masterful.Â
Did you appear like a person who knew what they were doing and not someone wandering around, grasping at straws, clawing at a glimmer of a slim chance? You hope so. Did they notice you awkwardly pacing and going up and down the hall? Thatâs not the point. The point is to masquerade as someone whoâs notâŠafraid.
In truth, the pit in your stomach is growing. Afraid of what, exactly? Well, nothing, to a degree. You were afraid to find out that you flew exactly 5330 miles, gulped through the jet lag, lugged bags across stations, navigated across language barriers, and fumbled through faux pas, for nothing. Not even for a glimpse, a sideways glance, or a chat. You were worrying that, because of the past years of being broken up, and despite constantly grinding to make your own, striving to complete internships, acing departmental exams, and graduating with flying colors, it would all have been for nothing. You guys would still end up as nothing.
Why couldnât you have what you want?
You slump on the bench, your unkempt appearance, tousled hair, and untucked shirt now obviously inappropriate for the formal setting and the more well-dressed theater goers leaving the maroon-carpeted lobby and down the polished mahogany exit steps. You donât care anymore. You just absolutely had to wait.Â
So you wait.Â
And wait.Â
And wait.
The crowd thins out, save for a few pairs scrambling and hoping to catch the few remaining tickets for tomorrowâs performance. The buzz of talk soon dies down, replaced by the sound of rain falling and the crisp crash of tires driving over puddles and gutter water outside. You barely noticed the rain before, but you do now.
If only your mom could see you. I knew it. I told you youâd forget something, sheâd say.
âSorry, Mom.â A mutter from you. âSorry, little umbrella.â Back at home, your umbrella ruffles in acceptance of the whispered apology.
Then you feel it.Â
You touch a finger to your right cheek, tracing an invisible line from your face to your lips. A cut.Â
Confusion fills you. Your breathing slowly picks up now. This was familiar. Youâve felt this before, this gash. It was this stinging feeling like a subtle paper cut, the type of paper cut youâd only feel after a substantial amount of time, but even then, the damage was already done. You unexpectedly blush as if blood were leaking from the slice. You feel your face heat up as your heartbeat quickens, the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. It becomes harder to gulp, too, as your throat dries, your voice stagnating and burrowing deep within your courage.
You turn to where the cut came from. Long-dead abilities revive within you. The sound of precipitation distorts as things come to a dead halt. Raindrops disobey gravity. People freeze in place, their stride suddenly stopping.
And yet she still walks toward you. Even if you stop time, she still walks toward you. Even if youâve been broken up for all those years, she still walks toward you.
Beneath the quirky petals might be top 3 fics for me. Thank u goat
Really? Omg, Iâm genuinely flattered lol, I appreciate it a lot. And coincidentally, Chaeyoungâs finally making a comeback in my next fic after being absent for so long :p
A/n: special smut to celebrate Nana's birthday đ„ł
You're sitting at the counter, glass half-empty. The bar lights are dim, casting a warm amber hue that makes the place seem imperfect, but in a comforting way. Most nights, someone else serves you, someone who never asks your name, and you never feel the need to say it.
But tonight, that person isnât here. Instead, thereâs Nana.
Youâve noticed Nana before. How could you not? She stands out like a wildfire in the middle of a forest. She has that kind of beauty thatâs almost aggressive, as if every detail was designed to challenge the idea that perfect people donât exist. Her hair is long, black like the night outside, and her body... Her body is like a work of art, covered in tattoos you try not to stare at for too long, but they demand attention. Her curves, her intense eyes. She moves like she doesn't care about the world, but you notice her every move, and although you haven't realized it yet, she also notices you.
Tonight, she's the one who walks up to you. When she stops in front of you, you canât hide your surprise.
"Another one?" she asks. Her voice is slightly deep, velvety.
You nod, trying not to seem nervous, but you know you are failing.
"You come here every night," she says as she fills your glass. "But I never serve you."
"Yeah. Itâs always that bearded guy," you reply, forcing a smile. Your voice feels smaller than it should.
"What brings you here every day?"
"I like the atmosphere."
"Itâs not the best place to be every night, you know."
You let out a sigh.
"Still, you work here every night."
She raises an eyebrow.
"And thatâs exactly why I know itâs not a good place for you. By the way, my name is Nana."
You grip your glass tightly, as if itâs the only anchor keeping you there. You do the formalities, say it's a pleasure to meet her and also give her your name, then continue: "Well, Iâm new in town," you end up saying, not sure why youâre opening up to her. "I donât know many people yet."
She pauses for a second, as if studying you. Something in her eyes changes. She doesnât say anything, but the way her lips curve suggests sheâs interested.
"New in town... and youâve already chosen this hole of a bar to spend your time?" she teases, with a half-smile.
You laugh, a short, nervous laugh. "Itâs whatâs available."
She leans in a bit, resting on the counter. "And what are you looking for here? Besides cheap beer?"
You think about the answer. You donât have one. Or maybe you do. Or maybe you really donât.
"I donât know," you reply.
She smiles. A smile that says she understands what youâre going through.
â
The bar is almost empty now, just you, Nana, and a few lost souls at distant tables. The conversation flows easily, slipping through words like the drink she keeps serving you. You feel a lightness in your shoulders that wasnât there when you walked in, as if the weight of the day had melted away, dripping to the floor along with the drops of beer.
"I get off at midnight," she says, casually, as she dries a glass with a cloth. "What do you think about going for a drive with me?"
You almost choke. "Are you serious?"
She looks over the rim of the glass, one eyebrow raised, a small smile on her lips. "Of course I am. Why wouldnât I be?"
You glance around, as if expecting someone to wake you from a prank. "I thought... I donât know, it was just bar talk."
"Bar talk is usually full of crap, I know," she says, pushing the glass aside. "But Iâm not the type to say things just to say them. When I need to clear my head, I go for a drive."
Now youâre more intrigued. "A drive?"
She leans on the counter, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. As if there were nothing strange about a bartender inviting a guy she barely knows to go out at night. "I have a hobby," she says, without rush. "I like to restore old cars."
"Old cars?" That catches you off guard. You didnât expect that. Of all the things she could have said, that was the last.
She points her thumb outside, toward the street. "The Impala out there. Itâs mine."
Your eyes follow her finger, and you see the car parked outside. A black Impala, classic, gleaming under the faint streetlights. Youâve seen it plenty of times, but you never imagined it was hers.
"Youâre kidding," you say, with a half-smile. "I see it there all the time, but I didnât know it was yours. Itâs beautiful."
She smiles, a smile that feels more personal now, as if youâve hit something you didnât know you were aiming for. "I restored it myself," she says, with contained pride. "Took a few good years, but there it is, ready to take me wherever I want."
You canât hide your admiration. Sheâs different. Very different. The kind of person who seems to have lived a hundred lives while youâre still trying to figure out your first. And she seems to enjoy keeping you off balance.
"You... seem like a one-of-a-kind girl," you blurt out, without much thought, and realize how foolish it sounds once itâs said aloud.
"I could say the same about you," she replies, with a wink.
You feel a little out of place now. She has this confidence, this raw energy that youâve never had. And you, the opposite of everything Nana seems to represent, never imagined attracting someone like her. But, for some reason, here she is, inviting you out, asking you to get into her car, to see her world.
"So," she says, suddenly serious. "Are you coming or not?"
Your mind is still processing everything, but before you can overthink it, you respond. "Iâm in."
"Then youâll be my passenger for the night," she says, grabbing her car keys from her pocket and twirling them on her finger. She leans closer, the distance between you shrinking until you can smell her. "Iâm gonna take you to places youâve never been before," she murmurs, and the way she says it makes it feel like those places arenât just physical.
â
Youâre standing outside, arms crossed against the chill of the night that seems to grow colder by the hour. The bar has finally closed, and now you can hear the muffled voices inside, the last of the staff finishing up. The black Impala is parked in front of you, gleaming under the streetlight. You wait, anxious, unsure of what to expect.
The door to the bar opens, and she appears. Nana. This time, without the counter between you. You notice now, in a much more intense way, how her body fills the space. Sheâs all soft lines and yet strong, tattoos tracing her arms that you imagine extend to places you havenât seen yet.
She pauses for a second, noticing your gaze, and smiles with a bit of amusement. "Like my tank top?" she asks casually, turning slightly as if wanting you to get a better look. "I think it fits just right, donât you?"
You swallow hard, and suddenly, your words seem to have evaporated. "Yeah... it looks great on you."
She lets out a low laugh, tilting her head as she slips on her leather jacket. "Youâre not very good at hiding things, are you?"
Before you can respond, she opens the car door and motions for you to get in. You walk to the other side, feeling the ground unsteady beneath your feet. When you settle into the passenger seat, the smell of the leather upholstery mixes with her perfume, something intoxicating.
She starts the car, the engine purring low, deep, like a beast waking up. Nana leans slightly toward you, offering a cigarette. "Want one?"
You hesitate for a second, but... why not? "Sure."
She lights your cigarette first, then hers. The car still parked, both of you smoking in silence. You cough twice before getting the hang of it. The smoke mingles with the cold air seeping through the slightly cracked window. She seems content with the moment, like the entire scene is unfolding exactly as she had planned.
"Where are we going?" you ask.
She takes a long drag from the cigarette before answering, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth. "I was thinking we could head to the coast. Thereâs a cliff along the road where you can see the sea, the bridge, and the lighthouse... itâs beautiful at night." Before you can respond, she continues, turning her face toward you with that mischievous smile that seems to be her signature. "But honestly? The destination doesnât matter much. What matters is the ride." She looks at you for a second longer. "The company."
The way she says that â the way her eyes linger on yours â makes you feel like, yes, you will understand.
âIâm in your hands,â you say.
â
The Impala rumbles softly as she finally parks on the shoulder near the cliff. The road seems deserted now, wrapped in darkness, except for the thin line of streetlights stretching ahead. You step out of the car, the night air cooler here, damper, with the salty scent of the sea rising up to meet you. Nana gets out on her side, slamming the car door and pulling the zipper of her leather jacket up to her chin. She glances at you for a moment, her eyes gleaming, as if analyzing your reaction.
âThis way,â she says, her phone's flashlight on, pointing to a trail that winds down a small hill, overgrown with weeds. âWatch your step here. It gets slippery.â
You descend slowly, each step sinking slightly into the loose soil. The wind is stronger here, whipping through the leaves and Nanaâs hair, which she pushes back carelessly. You follow close behind, focusing on each movement, trying to appear confident but feeling the vulnerability of walking along a dark trail leading to a cliff.
Finally, you reach the cliffâs edge. The view is breathtakingâthe suspension bridge stretching across the gap, the sea below churning under the distant light of a lighthouse. Lights flicker in the distance, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is just this scene, this moment.
âWow,â you murmur, taking it all in. âIâve never seen the bridge from this angle... but Iâve seen pictures of people here.â
âSome braver tourists come here,â she says. âI think it makes them feel alive.â
She turns to you, a mischievous smile on her lips. âWant to take a picture too? To mark the moment.â
You laugh nervously but agree. âSure⊠why not?â
Nana raises her phone, positioning you against the dramatic backdrop. âStand there, try to look... introspective.â
You awkwardly pose, crossing your arms and gazing at the horizon. She snaps the picture and looks at the result, chuckling softly. âCame out great. Iâll send it to you later.â
She shows you the picture, and yeah, it really is great.
She leans against a rock, lighting a cigarette and offering you one. You take it, inhale slowly, the bitter taste blending with the night. Silence hangs for a while, until she breaks the tension with a question.
âSo⊠howâs life treating you?â Her voice is soft, but thereâs something more behind it, a genuine curiosity, like she really wants to understand.
You hesitate, thinking about how to answer. âIâm not sure if Iâm doing it right, to be honest.â
She laughs quietly, but not mockingly. Itâs more a sound of recognition, like sheâs heard that many times before.
âKnew youâd say something like that,â she replies, blowing smoke to the side. âMost people arenât sure. Everyone pretends they know what theyâre doing, but really, weâre all just fumbling in the dark.â
You look at her, waiting for more. She seems to be building up to something bigger.
âSee⊠the problem is, weâve been taught to measure happiness the wrong way,â she says, her tone turning more serious now. âThey made us believe that happiness is about having things. Buying a new car, getting a promotion, finding the perfect partner. And all thatâs just temporary bullshit. When you get it, itâs great. It lasts for a while. And then?â
She pauses, as if giving you time to process. âThen you need something else. Another goal, another prize. Happiness has become this trophy weâre always chasing. But no one tells you the race never ends. Itâs like working on a treadmill.â
âYou think we shouldnât chase those things?â you ask, trying to grasp where sheâs headed.
She looks at you with an intensity that catches you off guard. âItâs not that we shouldnât chase them. Itâs that we should stop measuring our lives by them. What really matters is right now. We spend so much time trying to build a perfect future that we forget the present.â
She exhales slowly, as if each word comes from some deep, lived truth. âWhat happens when you reach all those goals and still feel empty? Modern culture, capitalism, they sell you this idea that youâre incomplete until you have everything. But no one tells you that âeverythingâ doesnât exist.â
You stay silent for a moment, considering. It feels like sheâs saying something thatâs been lurking in the back of your mind, unspoken.
âSo, what should we do? Just give up on all that?â
Nana gives a sly smile, like sheâs been expecting the question. âItâs not about giving up. Itâs about redefining what âeverythingâ means. For me, itâs this. The journey. The company. Not the destination. What you do now, in the moment, with the people youâre with... thatâs what matters. Happiness is in what you do along the way, not what you achieve at the end.â
She flicks the cigarette to the ground, crushing the tip under her boot. âOnce you start living in the present, you stop worrying so much about achieving the future. Because, one way or another, the future comes. And most people donât even know what to do with it when it arrives.â
You stand there, staring out at the horizon, feeling the weight of her words. Itâs a philosophy that challenges everything youâve been trying to do since moving to this new city, trying to fit in, trying to find your path.
âSo, what now?â you ask, more to yourself than to her.
She smiles, looking at you in a way that makes the air around you feel heavier. âNow? Now you finish that cigarette, enjoy the view, and stop worrying so much about what comes next.â
â
On the way back to the car, Nana stops suddenly, spinning on her heels with a provocative gleam in her eyes. âGet in the backseat,â she says, her voice soft but with an authority that leaves no room for questioning.
âWhy?â you ask, unsure of her intent.
She smirks. âJust do what Iâm asking.â
You hesitate for a second, but curiosityâand something elseâwins out. You open the back door and slide onto the seat. You barely have time to adjust before Nana climbs in after you, straddling your lap without hesitation. The warmth of her body against yours is immediate, electric.
âYouâve been waiting for this all night, havenât you?â Her question comes as a whisper in your ear, her lips barely brushing against the skin of your neck.
Before you can respond, she kisses you, and everything becomes a blur of lips and skin, your heart pounding in your chest. Her hands move down your body while yours trace the curves of hers, feeling every inch.
âYouâre so hot,â you blurt out, unable to hold back.
She laughs, a low, confident sound. âI know,â she replies, her lips barely leaving yours.
Her movements grow bolder, her body pressing into yours, her hips grinding provocatively against you, making you even harder beneath her. She notices. âI drive you crazy, donât I?â
All you can do is nod.
âIâm going to take the lead tonight,â she says, sliding down without breaking eye contact.
âLead on,â you answer, giving in completely.
She kneels in the cramped space of the backseat, shrugs off her jacket for more comfort, and tosses it to the front seat. Then, with swift efficiency, Nana unbuttons your pants, pulling them down along with your boxers in one fluid motion. Your hard cock is now exposed, throbbing under the dim light of the car.
She wraps a hand around it, pausing for a moment as if admiring her work. âMmm, big and thick,â she comments like sheâs appreciating a piece of art. She leans down, placing a soft kiss on the tip, running her tongue slowly along it, teasing. âRelax,â she whispers, her eyes never leaving yours, âbecause now, Iâm taking you to the edge.â
She starts slowly, teasing. The tip of her tongue circles the head as if testing your limits. âDid you expect to get a blowjob tonight?â She smiles but doesnât wait for an answer. âIâll show you what itâs really like.â
Her tongue trails from the base of your cock, moving upwards agonizingly slowly, every movement deliberate. One hand grips you at the perfect spot, squeezing just enough to make you pulse, while the other fondles your balls, alternating between pleasure and pain in a rhythm that makes your mind spin.
You groan, the sounds escaping uncontrollably. âFuck, NanaâŠâ is all you can manage.
She pauses for a second, holding your cock against her face, rubbing it against her cheek. âThis is what youâve wanted from the start, isnât it?â Her tone is a mix of teasing and command. âSeeing me down here, driving you crazy.â
Before you can answer, she takes you fully into her mouth, without warning, without preparation. Her hot mouth envelops every inch, the pressure perfect. She goes deep, as far as she can, not giving you a chance to breathe. You try to say something, but the sensation is too much.
She begins to move, her lips sliding up and down, with force and precision. âI want you to look at me,â she says, pulling you out of her mouth for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. âWatch what Iâm doing.â
You obey, breathless, heart pounding in your chest.
She returns, this time more intense, sucking hard, obscene sounds filling the confined space of the car. Saliva drips down your cock, her hands working in sync, squeezing the base, each movement pulling you closer to the edge. She changes the pace again, speeding up, then slowing down, torturing you, keeping you on the brink of orgasm but not letting you go.
âYouâll only cum when I say so,â she declares, her mouth still around you, the words muffled but the command clear. âUnderstood?â
You can only nod, completely at her mercy. Every movement feels designed to extract the maximum amount of pleasure. Her hand is now firm on your balls, squeezing with precise control, while the other continues to guide the rhythm at the base of your cock. She speeds up again, sucking with a fervor that makes your vision blur.
âFuck, Nana, I... I canât anymore,â you moan, your whole body burning, muscles tense, pressure building.
âNot yet! Only when I allow it.â
Nana grips you harder now, almost brutally, her eyes locked on yours as she intensifies every movement. Her rhythm is relentless, no pauses, no mercy. Her hand squeezes the base of your cock as if she wants to wring every drop of pleasure from you. She knows what sheâs doing, pushing you to the limit, not letting you breathe, not allowing you any control over whatâs happening.
âGo on, I want to feel you lose control,â she whispers, her voice muffled as your cock slides deep into her mouth. The wet, filthy sound of each suck echoes through the car, mingling with your moans, now hoarser, more desperate. Her hand on your balls squeezes perfectly, making your vision darken at the edges.
She speeds up, her hot mouth sucking harder, her tongue swirling around the tip, teasing and pressing in all the right ways. Her other hand keeps your cock steady, controlling every inch that enters and leaves her mouth. You try to hold on, but sheâs in command and wonât stop until she breaks you.
âYouâre going to cum for me, arenât you?â she says, her mouth still wrapped around you, each word making your cock throb more, pushing you closer to the edge. âI want you to cum now. In my mouth. I want to taste it.â
Your legs tremble, your whole body tense. The heat inside you grows, the pressure building until it feels impossible to hold on for another second. The control you tried to maintain disintegrates when Nana increases the intensity again, sucking with a force that makes you let out a deep moan.
âNana, Iâm going to...,â you can barely form the words, your entire body ready to explode.
âThatâs right. Now you can,â she murmurs. Nana takes you all the way in, her throat tightening around your cock, and that sends you straight over the edge. Her hand grips your base firmly as she keeps sucking, drawing out every second of your orgasm. You have no choice anymore, your body gives in, and you feel the first wave of pleasure rip through you, your cock throbbing violently in her mouth.
You cum hard, your body shaking with intensity, muscles clenched as your cum explodes into her mouth. She doesnât pull back, doesnât hesitate. She keeps you deep, her mouth sealed, sucking every last drop, feeling every pulse. You feel the warmth of your own cum fill her mouth, and she doesnât stop, still sucking, wanting more from you. She makes sure you give it all, every drop.
âThatâs it... good boy,â she whispers between licks, her voice warm and husky, as the last spurt escapes, your body still trembling, exhausted.
She slowly pulls your cock out of her mouth, her lips sliding along the length in the process. Her eyes never leave you, dominant, satisfied.
âI told you Iâd take you to the edge,â she says teasingly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, your taste still on her lips.
Youâre buttoning up your pants, trying to process what just happened. Your mind is a whirlwindâeverything feels surreal, like youâre watching from the outside. Nana is there, still with that lazy smile on her lips, as if sheâd just done something casual, something she does with anyone. But you know thatâs not true, she saw something in you. Though youâre not sure what.
âHow do you feel?â Her question pulls you back to the car, to the moment.
You chuckle softly, a little incredulous. âGood... Too good, actually,â you answer, letting out a breath in a sigh that tries to release the tension.
âGreat,â she says, reaching over the driver's seat to grab her jacket back. âThat was the plan. And weâre just getting started.â
You look at her, confused. âWait, thereâs more?â
She laughs, tossing her hair back before sliding into the driver's seat. âOf course thereâs more. I havenât even had my turn yet.â She turns the key in the ignition, and the Impala roars to life like a beast awakening.
You join her in the front seat, grabbing another cigarette from the pack on the dashboard without thinking too much. The silence between you is comfortable now, almost conspiratorial. Nana glances at you from the corner of her eye, approving. âLight one for me too,â she says.
You obey, lighting both cigarettes and handing one to her. The smell of tobacco fills the car as the Impala rolls down the streets of the sleeping city. The engine hums, blending with the sound of tires on asphalt, a buzz that cradles the adrenaline.
Nana takes a long drag and exhales the smoke slowly, her eyes fixed on the road. âEver gotten a blowjob in a car before?â The question comes casually.
âNo,â you admit.
She smirks. âAnd how did it feel?â
You think for a second, the words swirling in your mind, trying to find something that captures what just happened. âIndescribable... Especially coming from someone as gorgeous as you.â
She laughs, a low laugh, like she expected that kind of compliment. âThanks,â she says, with a hint of sarcasm. She shifts gears and speeds up a little more.
âWhere are we going now?â you ask, trying to understand what else she has planned for the night.
Nana shrugs. âI donât know. But thereâs a gun in the glovebox, we could go out and rob some places... like Bonnie and Clyde.â
âToo bad Iâm a pacifist,â you joke, playing along.
She pouts mockingly, as if disappointed. âOf course you are... The best guys always are pacifists.â She winks, taking another drag before leaning in closer, the smoke mingling in the air between you. âBut maybe weâll find another way to have fun, huh?â
â
The Impala roars down the empty road, slicing through the quiet of the early morning like a blade. The city lights flicker in and out of view, passing as yellow and red blurs, while Nana drives with one hand on the wheel and the other holding her cigarette. Each time she inhales, the glowing tip briefly lights up her face, showing the smile that never leaves her lips.
Sheâs been talking for minutes, maybe hoursâyouâve lost track of time. Her words are like smoke, wrapping around you in a philosophical fog that seems endless. âFreedom,â she says, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke out slowly, âisnât what everyone thinks. Itâs not doing what you want, when you want. No. Itâs knowing that youâre nothing, nobody gives you a purpose. Youâre free to create your own.â
You watch the streets go by, the low buildings and traffic lights blinking green. âSartre,â she continues, never taking her eyes off the road, âhe had this view... that weâre all condemned to be free. Like, the freedom to have to make choices, to live with those choices. Thereâs no âfate,â just the shit you choose to do.â
You nod, not saying much, but taking in every word.
âReal freedom is knowing that all of this,â she gestures widely with her hand, indicating the city around you, âis meaningless. You, me, everyone. And still choosing what to do with it.â
The Impala turns onto a larger avenue now, lit by an endless string of streetlights. âWe live in this invisible cage, you know? Jobs, money, house, car. But none of it matters, because in the end... nothing matters.â She smiles sideways, as if sheâs just told the most tragic and funniest joke in the world.
You stay silent, processing. Youâre not sure if you agree, but something about the way she speaks, the intensity with which she lives, makes sense. Itâs like sheâs living everything with such urgency that you have no choice but to keep up with her pace. Itâs terrifying and addictive at the same time.
Another turn and you pull into an alley, where a neon LED sign marks a convenience store. Nana slows down and parks the car. âSecond-to-last stop,â she says, turning off the engine and turning to you. âConvenience store. Letâs buy something to celebrate this condemned freedom.â
You step out of the car with her, the cool night air hitting your skin. She pulls the zipper of her jacket up again. âTell me something,â she says as you walk toward the store entrance, âif you could do anything right now, with no consequences⊠what would you do?â
The question lingers, heavy, as she opens the store door. You donât know how to respond, but the truth is, ever since you got into that car, it feels like youâve been living exactly that: a night without consequences, a blur of unexpected freedom.
She grabs a soda from the fridge and tosses it to you. âCheap philosophy, right? I promise Iâll stop here. Wait for me outside. Don't worry, I'll pay for your soda and buy some things and be right back.â
â
Youâre leaning against the carâs hood, soda can in hand, but not really drinking. Suddenly, the convenience store door opens, and thereâs Nana, but now she's holding something. Itâs not what you expectedâno bottles of beer or another round of cigarettes. Sheâs carrying a cake. Nothing fancy, just a white cake with frosting. And as she approaches, you can read whatâs written, a bit crooked, in pink and blue icing: âHappy Birthday.â
Youâre confused. âHappy birthday to me,â she says with a smile that tries to be casual, but you can see a hint of something deeper there.
âWait, is it your birthday?â The question escapes before you can process it.
Nana lets out a short, humorless laugh, as if amused by your surprise. âYeah, itâs today.â She waves the cake in front of you, almost like presenting proof. âSurprise, I guess.â
You straighten up, the soda can dangling loosely from your fingers. âDamn, happy birthday!â You hug her, awkward but sincere. The cake almost squashes between you, but she laughs again, this time genuinely. When she pulls away, you're full of questions. âBut why⊠why are you spending your birthday with a stranger instead of, I donât know, your friends, family?â
She shrugs, her eyes drifting for a second before returning to yours. âI donât think anyoneâs awake now to celebrate with me. Iâve got the whole day ahead for that. Right now, itâs just⊠my time. I was going to do this alone, you know? But then, I saw you alone at the bar and thought⊠maybe it would be nice. Maybe we could keep each other company.â She makes it sound simple, and maybe it is.
You watch as she places the cake on the hood of the car, like itâs the most natural setting for a celebration. She opens the packaging of a plastic knifeâthe flimsy kind that could snap at any moment trying to cut through tougher frostingâand starts slicing the cake right there, no ceremony, no ritual. Just a girl and a cake in a convenience store parking lot.
âIâve only known you for a few hours, but this is so⊠you,â you comment.
âGood. You can lose everything, except your essence.â
As you take your first bite, the sweetness fills your mouth, but itâs the bitterness of the early morning that still lingers in the air. Youâre eating cake in the middle of a parking lot, yet somehow, itâs the most meaningful cake youâve ever had. Sheâs eating too, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the city lights blend into the dark sky.
âEverything Iâve said tonight,â she begins softly, âwas more about me than you. Iâm getting older, and these dates always make me think⊠reflect on everything. The choices. What couldâve been different, what still can be. I guess I was just trying to reaffirm something to myself.â
You look at her, chewing slowly. Thereâs something vulnerable in that moment, something you hadnât seen in her until now. âNana, youâre doing great,â you say, your words feeling a bit silly, but somehow, they make sense. âLook at youâyouâre killing it.â
She smiles, but thereâs a melancholy curve to her lips. âYeah, maybe. Who knows.â She sighs, not out of exhaustionâmore like someone shedding a weight they've carried for too long. âI always get reflective on my birthday. Maybe I just need to stop overthinking.â
You smile back, and something inside you, a light sense of urgency, makes you promise, âIâll get you a present later.â
âYouâre already my present,â she says, and then, with a quick move, she swipes some frosting and gently spreads it over your lips.
Before you can react, she kisses you. Itâs sweet and warm, the taste of frosting mixing with the heat of her lips. And for a moment, you think of nothingânot the cake, not the parking lot, not the wild world. Just her.
She pulls you a little closer, and for a second, you get lost in the rhythm of her breathing, in the way her chest rises and falls, pressed against you. Nanaâs hair falls over her face, and you feel its softness brushing against your skin.
When she finally pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes, your lips are still wet from the kiss. She quickly licks her own, as if savoring the moment. âThis nightâŠâ she begins, her voice low, almost a whisper. âItâs been really great.â
You try to say something, but your mind is still spinning from the kiss, so you just manage to say, âThanks⊠for pulling me out of my comfort zone.â
âThe nightâs not over yet, we still have so much to explore, so much to feel. And if you think that was stepping out of your comfort zone⊠just wait.â She pauses, her eyes drifting to your lips before locking onto yours again. âThereâs more where that came from.â
You chuckle, not because itâs funny, but because itâs all you can do. The weight of her words feels lighter now, the tension between you both like an electric current that keeps flowing, even when youâre not touching. Her taste still lingers on your lips.
âYou have no idea how much I needed this,â you say, finally taking in a full breath, as if youâve been holding it since the night began. âI didnât know it, but⊠I needed it.â
She gives a small nod, as if she knew that all along. âI can feel the energy of the people around me. And when I saw you at that bar⊠you looked like you needed a different kind of night. Something⊠off the script. And now here we are.â
âYeah⊠here we are.â
âBut seriously,â she continues, her voice lower, almost confiding. âI wanted tonight to be good. And Iâm glad youâre here with me. Truly.â
You run a hand through her hair, just a light touch, but it says everything. âIâm glad you chose me for this.â
âYou were the best choice of the night. And nowâŠâ She glances around, as if looking for something, anything to pull you both back into the moment. âLetâs finish this cake before it melts on the hood.â
She scrapes a bit more frosting with her finger and brings it to her mouth, but before tasting it, she smears another dollop on your lips again, with a mischievous smile. âThis time, I want you to kiss me.â
â
Nana drives in silence, the car gliding along the nearly empty road. The city lights fade behind you, and the cool night air begins to seep in through the slightly open window. You feel the freshness, the smell of asphalt and dew-covered grass. She doesnât say much, just smiles occasionally, as if she knows exactly what's coming and wants to savor your curiosity. And you, lost in your own thoughts, can only wonder where she's taking you now.
"It's a place where we can really relax," she says, breaking the silence. "You'll see. I promise."
Minutes later, you pull up in front of a motel. It's not one of those seedy places you see in mafia movies, but it's no five-star hotel either. The neon lights blink in soft tones, and the sign above the entrance looks a bit old, but well-maintained. You recognize the place by sight, but you never imagined you'd find yourself here. Nana pulls the handbrake in a swift, almost automatic motion and looks at you.
"Shall we?" She doesnât wait for an answer. She steps out of the car, and you follow.
Inside, the lobby is small and discreet. A receptionist behind the counter doesnât even look up from the book she's reading while Nana handles everything. In minutes, youâre climbing the stairs, walking through narrow hallways with striped wallpaper. There's a strange calm in the air.
Nana kicks off her shoes and jacket in seconds, almost like she's at home. She walks over to the bed and, without hesitation, jumps onto it, sinking into the sheets.
"Good," she says, looking at you lazily, "I hope you know how to make the birthday girl happy. You know what I mean, right?"
You give a half-smile, a bit awkward, and walk to the bed, sitting on the edge. The feel of the soft mattress under you eases some of the tension in your body. She reaches out and touches your arm.
"Relax," she whispers. "No need to rush."
She gets up and goes to the small light control on the wall. With a click, a soft neon glow, in shades of pink and purple, fills the room, replacing the lampâs light. Now, the room has a warm, intimate, almost dreamlike atmosphere.
She returns to the bed, this time with two small bottles of tequila she found in the mini-fridge. She hands one to you, opening hers with a pop.
"Shall we toast?" She raises her bottle in the air. "To unexpected nights... and the best company."
You raise yours too. "To the most interesting birthday girl I've ever met."
You drink, and the alcohol burns its familiar path down your throat, spreading warmth through your body. She lets out a soft laugh, that laugh you know so well, and moves closer. The closeness between you grows, not just physically, but in a way you canât quite explain. As if, with every sip, every exchanged glance, something deeper is being built.
"I like this," she says, her voice soft, almost melancholic. "Being here, now. With you. It feels like... like I've finally stopped running for a second, you know? Like life pressed pause so I could breathe."
You feel the warmth of her hand on yours and gently squeeze it. "And I like that you pulled me out of my own head for a night."
She smiles, her eyes glowing under the neon light.
The tension between you grows, but itâs not rushed. Itâs slow, almost like a rhythm youâve created together. She leans in and kisses you, this time with a softness that suggests it's not just desireâitâs connection.
She pulls back, looking into your eyes, as if sheâs studying every part of you. "From now on, the birthday girl is all yours."
Then she sighs, looking at you with those eyes that, until now, always seemed in control. But now, for the first time, they seem to be surrendering to you.
She gently takes the tequila bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table along with hers. Standing, Nanaâs hands move to the hem of her tank top, and in a slow, almost ritualistic gesture, she lifts it over her head. The fabric slides down her skin like it's nothing, and suddenly, sheâs exposed. Her slender body, the tattoos, her small, almost non-existent breasts, raw beauty without pretense. She sits at the edge of the bed, vulnerable for the first time.
"Do you like what you see?" she asks as she lies down on the bed. Sheâs not in control now.
For now.
You donât answer. Instead, you stand up, just to be able to look down at her, feeling the power of the situation shift. She stays there, lying down, waiting, in a long, tension-filled pause. You want her even more because of it.
Nana looks at you, biting her lower lip, impatient but silent. And then, with a brief smile, you lean over her. Your hands go straight to her neck, firm but not aggressive. Just enough for her to feel that you're in charge. She closes her eyes, her breath quickening as you lower your head and begin kissing her skinâfirst her neck, then her shoulders. Your touch is slow, every movement deliberate, and she melts bit by bit. She moans as your lips trail down to her breasts. You open your mouth, teasing her skin with your tongue, tracing the outline of her small, dark areolas. Nana sighs, eyes closed, wordless now. Sheâs passive, completely surrendered, her moans soft and ragged.
"Keep going..." she murmurs, barely audible.
You obey, but at your own pace. You take one of her breasts in your hand, gently squeezing while sucking on the other, your tongue playing with her nipple. Nana arches her back, trying to move against you, but your hands on her hips keep her in place. She struggles, impatient, but you donât let her. "Slow down, Nana," you whisper, your voice controlled, almost cold. "The night is ours."
She laughs, a short, shaky laugh. "You bastard..." she says, but thereâs amusement in her voice, an acceptance of the role sheâs now playing. "Are you going to make me beg?"
"Only if you want to," you reply, your lips returning to her breasts, alternating between them now, nibbling harder, your tongue circling the areolas. She moans louder, finally surrendering completely to the situation.
Nana lets out a long sigh, her fingers twisting into the sheets as you move over her with more intensity, and her breathing becomes erratic. "Damn, this... this is..." She can barely form a sentence. "This feels so fucking good..."
She tries to squirm, seeking more contact, but you hold her down again, keeping her in place. And for the first time, she doesnât fight back. She accepts it, and thatâs exactly what you wanted.
Then comes the moment. "Now I need you to eat me out," she says. And of course, you oblige. Her pants slide down her legs, and when you see it, thereâs that wet spot on her white panties. You hold back the anticipation for a moment as you undress, thereâs no rush, and that teases Nana in a fun way. Now free of any fabric, you trace your fingers over her panties, feeling the warmth, the moisture, while your lips travel down her thighs, following a path that leads you closer to what you really want.
She moans softly, but just enough to let you know youâre doing it right. Every second of anticipation is killing her, and she likes it. Until it becomes unbearable, and she squeezes her thighs around your head, whispering, "Lick me already. Come on, Iâm about to explode."
When you pull off her panties, itâs like peeling away the last layer of something much deeper. The air in the room feels heavier, and her scent fills the space like a wild, addictive perfume. You kneel between her legs, the warm skin of her inner thighs pressing lightly on either side of you. Every breath she takes, every swallowed moan, brings you closer, deeper. Your tongue moves slowly, first lightly, as if testing, tasting the contours. The wet heat pulsing inside her precedes something big, something thatâs going to break when you finally open the floodgates.
"Donât stop..." she whispers, surrendered. "More... deeper."
You comply. Your tongue works as if following a rhythm only the two of you know. Its tip finds that exact spot, and Nana arches, her hips trembling, as if every muscle in her body is short-circuiting, rebelling. She moans louder now, unashamed, uncontrolled.
"Like that... donât stop, fuck, keep going..." Her voice blends with her breathing, her moans becoming more spaced, almost suffocated.
You feel her taste growing stronger, the moisture increasing in your mouth, on your lips, and then, without warning, Nanaâs entire body contracts. Her muscles tighten, her legs squeeze your head hard, and she cums, a muffled scream escaping her throat. Her body trembles, her hips spasming involuntarily, and you keep going, knowing itâs not over. Not for her.
"Fuck... this... my god..." She moans through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut, her whole body vibrating as if sheâs in another dimension. And you continue, your tongue sliding faster, deeper, until she lets out a final moan, long, drawn-out, as if exorcizing everything inside her.
When you come back up, her taste is still fresh in your mouth. You kiss her, her tongue meeting yours, and she tastes herself on your lips.
"You... fuck... you drove me crazy," she says, her voice weak but still full of intent. She looks at you, her eyes bright, satisfied, then she smiles. "Now... fuck me. Fuck me like itâs the last thing youâre going to do today."
She turns over on all fours, her knees sinking into the mattress with that natural movement, without hesitation. The invitation doesnât need words; itâs all in the gesture, in the way her hips raise, her spine arched just enough to drive you completely insane. The tattoos scattered across her slim body come alive under the soft room light, every line of the design blending with the shadows, while her desire escapes in small sighs.
You grab her hips, your fingers digging into the soft flesh as if trying to anchor her to the moment. The first thrust is slow, almost a test, and Nana lets out a low moan, something between pleasure and provocation. She loves feeling the tension building in you and pushes back, forcing you to go deeper.
"Thatâs it..." she murmurs through gritted teeth, "harder."
You obey. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixing with her moans, growing louder each time. The pace quickens, you pull her closer, burying yourself deeper, while Nana moves against you, her hips meeting yours with perfect precision at each thrust. The sheets bunch up beneath her, and her moans turn into something almost animalistic, a rough sound that makes her body tremble.
"Fuck..." she moans, her head dropping forward, hair falling into her face. "Fuck me faster."
You grip her hips harder, her body responding to yours with absolute submission. Every movement is an exchangeâa silent request, an inevitable response. Her moans become more erratic, the bed creaking with the frantic rhythm you both reach. Her whole body tense, the muscles in her back and thighs contracted, almost falling apart under your hands.
Suddenly, she stops, breaking the rhythm, and turns around. Her gaze is wild, a mix of excitement and challenge. "Now let me do it my way."
She climbs on top of you, her knees sinking into the mattress next to your hips, and the sight is mesmerizing. Nana looks down at you, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, as she slowly lowers herself, feeling every inch of you filling her again. She lets out a heavy sigh and starts moving, first slow, controlled, her hips rising and falling with calculated precision, almost cruel.
"You like watching me like this?" she asks, her voice raspy, full of satisfaction.
All you can do is nod. And she smiles, that smile that says she knows exactly what sheâs doing to you. Nana picks up the pace, her hips slamming against yours with force, riding you without a shred of inhibition. Her hands find your chest, nails lightly scratching your skin, her face twisted in pure pleasure. She leans forward, her small breasts pressed against you, her mouth close to your ear as she whispers, her voice broken by moans.
"You... are... perfect."
Nana's hands grip your shoulders, her hips riding your cock with the precision of someone who knows their body well. But it wonât last like this. Not for long. You need to take control. "My turn," you whisper against her ear. She lets out a low moan, a half-smile, like she was waiting for it.
She climbs off of you. You both adjust, lying on your sides, legs intertwined, and you pull her closer, your mouth on her neck, tasting her sweaty skin, the scent of desire mixing with the heat of the room. "Closer," you say, as your hands travel down her tattooed hips, pulling her into you. Nana doesnât hesitate, grinding her hips, sinking deeper into you, her eyes half-closed, mouth open, moaning.
"You like it like this, donât you?" you ask, one hand sliding to her neck. She turns her head to look over her shoulder, that same half-cynical, half-hungry smile.
"I love it," she murmurs, and then your fingers lightly tighten around her throat. Nothing violent, just enough for her to feel the pressure. It makes her moan even louder, her body reacting, giving in to the control youâve taken. "Harder," she asks, eyes shutting like she's lost in her own satisfaction.
You squeeze a little more, controlling the intensity with the same precision you control the thrusts. Each time you bury yourself inside her, she grips the sheets, her whole body tense with pleasure. The heat of her skin, the way she moves against you, the sound of her moans muffled by your hand... all of it makes you lose track of anything else.
"Youâre so fucking hot," you say, your entire body focused on how sheâs giving herself to you. She moans in response, but her words are getting more fragmented, harder to get out. You release her neck for a second, just to let her breathe better. She swallows hard and lets out a short laugh, almost in disbelief.
"Fuck, youâre gonna make me come again," she confesses, and you realize youâre almost there too. You pull out of her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Nana into your lap, and she climbs back on top of you. The heat of her skin against yours is instant, and you feel her entire body mold to yours like a second skin. Your feet are planted firmly on the floor, ready for the intensity of Nanaâs hips. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her pussy sinks down slowly on your cock with a precision thatâs pure wickedness.
The room is a mess of discarded clothes, crumpled sheets, and the scent of sex hanging in the air.
She settles in, adjusts, and then starts riding, slow at first, almost like sheâs teasing, savoring the moment.
"Mmm, I knew youâd like it when I ride you⊠Mmm, yeah, I bet it has become your favorite positionâŠ" she murmurs, her voice low, while her nails lightly scratch your shoulders, her ass moving with pinpoint accuracy on your cock. The sensation is overwhelming, the tight, wet grip as if she was made for this.
You hold onto her hips tightly, fingers sinking into her skin, pulling her closer, deeper. "Fuck, Nana⊠Youâre so good," you blurt out, not even realizing the words slipped out.
She lets out a little laugh, muffled by the sound of bodies colliding. "I know," she replies, and you can feel her ego swelling alongside the pleasure sheâs giving you. She picks up the pace, and now thereâs nothing gentle about it. No. Now itâs skin on skin, the sound of flesh against flesh, and her ass moving fast, faster, her moans coming in waves, louder and louder.
You feel everything. Her weight in your lap, her hips rising and falling in a rhythm only she controls. The way she moans when you pull her even closer, when you force the thrusts to go deeper. The sensation is brutal. You can barely think, barely speak, all you can do is moan along with her, your bodies drenched in sweat and pleasure.
"You like it when I do this, donât you?" she gasps, her hair falling messily across her face as she rides you like sheâs competing with her own pleasure. "You love it when I sit on your cock, right?"
You can only nod. Any attempt to speak would be a pathetic moan at this point.
She leans forward, her lips at your ear, her breath hot and ragged. "Iâm gonna come like this⊠right in your lap," she whispers, like itâs a dirty secret. "And youâre gonna come with me. Together."
And thereâs no escaping it. Sheâs pulling you along, dragging you down with her, every movement sinking you both deeper into this shared haze of raw pleasure.
Nana speeds up, riding with an almost desperate urgency now, her moans turning into muffled screams, her nails clawing at your back, leaving marks. With each thrust, you feel like youâre about to lose your mind, like the pleasure is tearing you apart from the inside.
Nana leans forward, her hair falling loose across her face, her hands braced on your shoulders as she picks up speed, and itâs like the world is melting around you. Each time she comes down on your cock, the sound of flesh slapping together is almost deafening. Her ass slides so perfectly in your lap it feels like you were made for this.
"Fuck, NanaâŠ," you let out, almost without control, gripping her hips, pulling her even deeper, feeling your cock completely swallowed up. "Iâm gonna come..."
She smirks, a wicked, crooked grin, as she keeps riding you with an almost violent intensity. "Come inside me."
Your hands slide down her sweaty back, fingers digging into her flesh, and you can only nod, speechless, your breathing ragged, your body already trembling, about to collapse. She leans in, her words a whisper against your ear: "Come with me⊠I want your hot cum in my tight little pussy."
And then it happens. Her body shakes, and yours follows, and everything implodes. You feel the spasm that grips her, her pussy tightening around you in a way that knocks the breath out of you, and thatâs it. Thereâs no turning back. You come with a force that feels like itâs ripping your soul out of your body, filling her up, each thrust spilling more. Nana screams your name, or at least something that sounds like it, and she sinks down one last time, slowly, sitting fully on your cock, feeling every drop of your cum inside her.
"Fuck, NanaâŠ" is all you can manage as the world comes back into focus, your body exhausted but still buzzing with the intensity of it all.
You stay like that, quiet, your bodies still pressed together, breathing heavy, trying to find a normal rhythm again. The room is drowned in silence, the kind of silence that only exists when the noise was so loud before it feels almost unreal now. Youâre still inside her. You can feel the soft, steady heat of Nanaâs body around your cock, a warmth that pulses slowly, matching the rapid beat of your heart. She doesnât move, just stays there, relaxed against your body.
"It feels so good having you inside me like this," she says, almost like letting go of a secret, her voice low, muffled, without her usual brazen confidence. You smile, still catching your breath, and you feel a trickle of your hot cum running down your cock. "Itâs your birthday, but Iâm the one who got the gift," you reply. "Thank you. For this amazing night. For the conversation. For the sex. For getting to know you, Nana."
She stays quiet for a second, and you feel her body tense a little against yours. Like sheâs embarrassed. Nana? Embarrassed? Itâs almost funny. You can hardly believe it, but there it is, the slight blush on her cheeks, the way she looks off to the side. And before you can say more, she kisses you. A quick kiss, but full of urgency. Like she wants to stop whatever words you were about to spill.
"Shut up, idiot," she mutters against your lips, a little laugh escaping her.
You pull her a little closer, savoring the last remnants of the moment, not wanting to break whatever it is youâve just created together. She sighs, relaxing even more, as if sheâs finally let her body collapse after holding it all together for so long.
"This was a gift for me too," she finally says, letting out the laugh sheâd been holding back. "And what a gift, huh? I didnât think itâd be so... memorable." The word comes out with her typical sarcasm, but thereâs a layer of real gratitude hidden beneath that tough exterior.
"Iâd say the same," you reply, your voice a little lighter, your body finally slowing down, though still electrified by the feeling of being inside her.
Then, suddenly, she lets out a quiet, mischievous giggle. "Can you feel it?" she asks. "Can you feel how full of cum I am?"
She slowly climbs off your lap, placing one foot on the bed, her eyes locked on you as she spreads her legs. "Look at this," she murmurs, using two fingers to part her pussy lips, letting the cum start to drip out. "Wow, you really filled me up." The liquid drips down her fingers as she teases, "Whatâs better than a creampie for a birthday?â
â
You wake up to the soft light filtering through the motel curtains, making everything seem a little more golden, like the place was painted by an artist obsessed with warm tones. Your body feels heavy, but relaxed, your mind floating between dream and reality, the memory of last night still buzzing in your muscles, your skin, in the scent of Nana that seems to have fused with the air.
You barely move, and you can already feel it. Sheâs there. Pressed up against you. Skin on skin. Your naked bodies intertwined in a way that makes it seem like youâve always known how to fit together, like youâre not strangers, like this isnât the first time. And then, without warning, you feel her lips. First, a soft kiss on your chest, like sheâs exploring the territory again, testing the waters. Then, the kiss travels up to your neck, and suddenly, her lips are on yours, warm and hungry. She doesnât need to say anything. The way she kisses you says it all.
You finally open your eyes, your body starting to wake up, though youâre already fully awake where it matters. âNana, you need to stop,â you joke, your voice raspy, trying to sound more relaxed than you really are. âYouâre going to get me obsessed with you. And later, Iâll remember this and want more.â
She laughs, her lips still on yours, a quiet giggle that you feel vibrate against your mouth. âWho said weâre done here?â she whispers, gently tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth before letting it go. âMaybe Iâm just getting started.â
âSo, you want to see me again?â you ask, half-joking, half-serious, testing the waters.
She raises an eyebrow, like the question is ridiculous. âAfter a night like that? Of course I want to see you again. Many times, actually.â She bites her lip, her gaze a little challenging, like sheâs already planning something, and you know she is. She always is.
Without warning, Nana reaches for her phone on the bedside table. She unlocks it and smiles, a mischievous smile. She opens the camera and points it at you both. âLetâs capture this moment.â
You frown, still half-asleep, half-disbelieving. âAre you serious?â
âOf course I am.â She says it like itâs the most obvious thing in the world. âA night like this deserves a keepsake, donât you think?â She doesnât wait for your answer. Her finger is already on the button, ready to take the picture.
The idea feels strange, but you go with it. You snuggle up to her, both of you smiling for the camera, like itâs something you do all the time. She snaps the photo, the two of you grinning, with no pretense. Just warm skin, relaxed bodies. Then, she takes another. This time, you tilt your head and kiss Nana, the sensation more vivid, with a clarity that comes with daylight, when everything feels more real, less driven by the adrenaline of the moment.
When the cameraâs click finally falls silent, she tosses the phone aside and leans back against you, eyes closed, body relaxed. âThis is going to be a good memory,â she murmurs, and thereâs something in her voice that makes you believe her.
She shifts, the sheet slipping slightly, and you feel the warmth of her skin against yours. Nana settles more into you, a slow, almost deliberate movement. She lets out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound, and you feel her smile against your neck.
âI can feel it,â she says, her voice warmer now, closer to a whisper. âYouâre already hard for me.â And then, as if to prove her point, she adjusts her body again, rubbing against you like sheâs discovered a new toy and canât resist.
You sigh, half pleasure, half yearning. âYeah, Iâm horny,â you admit, no beating around the bush. Thereâs something about the way sheâs pressed against you, the smell of her hair mingling with the roomâs air, that erases any notion of self-control.
âGood,â she says, as if thatâs exactly what she was waiting for. âHow about a nice blowjob to start the day?â
You already know the answer, but you stay silent for a second, your mind processing the almost ridiculous simplicity of the proposal, the casual way she talks about it, like sheâs asking what you want for breakfast. Itâs something you love about this now not-so-strange girl. So finally, you open your mouth. âYes, please.â
She giggles, the kind of giggle thatâs full of mischief, of pure fun. She leans over you, her hand trailing down your stomach to your cock, her fingers cool against your warm skin. âI knew youâd say that,â she murmurs, almost to herself, as she starts to move slowly down your body, like sheâs studying your every reaction.
Nana crawls down to your hips, her movements slow, lazy, like she has all the time in the world, and then lowers her head. Her lips touch the tip of your cock first, a kiss almost chaste, before she opens her mouth and takes you in.
â
The sun is already up, it's around nine in the morning. You're in the car next to Nana after a night that felt like it came straight out of a dirty and perfect dream. The motel is left behind like a distant memory, a blur of neon and crumpled sheets. Now, you're parked in front of your house, and reality is there, knocking at the door.
Breakfast helped you get your energy back. You had to insist on paying. It was the least you could do. Nana didnât want to accept it, but at some point, she got tired of arguing. Though, you know she doesn't really care about that kind of thing. She doesnât seem like someone who worries about small formalities. But for you, paying for breakfast was your way of thanking her for more than just the night. It was for a temporary collapse of everything you knew.
She leans against the steering wheel, her slender fingers drumming on it. "Weâll talk on Insta, Iâll send you the photos there too," she says, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
You smile, still a bit dazed, your muscles tired from all the pleasure and exhaustion. "Thatâd be great." You smile, not sure what to say in these final minutes. "I really enjoyed meeting you, Nana. I mean that."
She turns to you. âI liked meeting you too, youâre a nice guy.â
The words come out with the casualness of someone who's been through this before, but with a sincerity that makes you believe that, even if itâs fleeting, it was special in some way.
You watch her, her profile illuminated by the morning light, and realize how something so simple, a chance encounter, can turn your day, your week, maybe even your life, upside down if you let it.
"Happy birthday again," you say, your hand already on the door handle.
"Thanks," she replies. âI hope the rest of my day is as interesting as itâs been so far.â
You laugh, unsure if she's being serious or joking. But then, just before getting out of the car, something pulls you back, a final question you have to ask. "But... what now, Nana? What do we do?"
She looks at you with that smile, the one youâve already learned to associate with the unpredictable. "Now?" She pauses, starting the car, her eyes focused on the road. "Now, we just jump to the next night and see what we find."
Of course. You knew sheâd say something like that. You nod, a smile forming on your face, because thereâs nothing more to say. You step out of the car, feeling different somehow, even though everything around you looks exactly the same as before.
Nana waves slightly, and you stand there, watching the car disappear around the corner, knowing that last night was just one among many that could happen.
You donât think you ever found true happiness until you met Kang Haerin.
Before Haerin came into your life, it felt like you were living in a simulation. You had a normal, boring routineâyou stocked up the books at the library, directed the kindergarten teachers where to lead their students, and went home.Â
Thatâs what you did because you were a fresh grad with a journalism major and no backups and also, nobody wanted to fucking hire you. They said something about mental ability, which was insulting, to say the least. Why should they let some stupid doctor define how you could prove yourself? You had batchmates with less amazing CVs than you and one of them is an author now. New York Times bestseller. Signed copies going for thousands of dollars.
And you? Youâre stuck in your local public library, getting sick quite literally because of the dust (endless dust), and pretending that you still want to live. You had no parents or siblings to be of service to. All you had in this world was you, and you werenât an ideal person to love. You can be honest with yourself.
But then Haerin walked in. The moment the door of the library clinked open, so did her entrance to your life. You knew you loved her immediately. It had to be fate, because this girlâthis impossibly beautiful girlâwalked up to you and asked:
âWhere can I find a book about dreams?â
You stared at her dumbly, your Adamâs apple bobbing. She had curly hair and serious almond eyes that stared into your soul.Â
âHello?â she said. âMy name is Haerin. I need a book about dreams.â
âA-Are you looking for anything in particular?â
If Haerin was weirded out, she didnât show it. Her face didnât move an inch in spite of its soft lines. âNo,â she replied. Always so straightforward, even⊠now?Â
âNo authors? Becauseâum, I have a manuscript right now about a dreamer.â
âReally,â said Haerin, and you couldnât tell if she was fascinated or sarcastic.Â
âHe had a dream about a girl with catlike eyes. She kept appearing in his dreams until one day, she walked in as if she was real.â
Haerin stared blankly at you. You really fumbled big-time. You looked around at the dusty shelves and the dozing librarian and the dim lights. Here was a girl who had a classic beauty straight out of paintings with the composed clarity of a musical sheet. She didnât belong here. She deserved to be somewhere she could be recognized and lauded for how beautiful she is.
And instead, she had a nosy librarianâs assistant using a cheesy pickup line on her.
Haerin started to laugh. Her serious eyes looked soft for a moment there, and all you could see in the caramel brown was you. You wanted to tell her about the silence rule but you couldnât. You were laughing, too. Both of you could get in trouble.
âIâm sorry. That was really corny,â you admitted, scratching the back of your neck.
Haerin stifled the last of her giggles. âThatâs fine. We can always start again. Watch.â
She snapped her fingers before turning on her heel. Her Mary Janes brought her back where you started, and back to the desk where you would start again. She was smiling this time as she held out her hand.
âHi, Iâm Kang Haerin,â she said. You shook hands firmly. âI dreamed about a guy who used a corny line to hit on me. But itâs fine, because he was really cute and I could tell heâs nice. Do you think I can find a story like that anywhere?â
Above you, the lamp flickered once. It never did that before. Must be a sign.
You smiled back at her. âI have just the thing.â
-
It didnât take much dating for you to know she was the one. You knew from the second you saw her. But Haerin was shyer than she had let herself come across, and that didnât matter anyway because you were willing to wait. You would wait forever if you needed to.
Forever lasted four months. On the first date, she wore a chic black dress with her hair now straightened in dark locks. You had coffee together. She talked about how, like you, she was also a fresh grad. She took theater, which surprised you because she didnât look the type to show expression. One time, you made a funny joke and Haerin laughed without smiling. You apologized for your lack of humor and she had to clarify that she loved the joke.
But Haerin had many faces. One she often used was the expressionless look that made her a blank canvas.
âPeople are going to take me the wrong way whatever I do,â she explained over a sip of her black coffee. âSo I just donât respond at all and let them think about what I meant.â
âDo you ever show them what you actually feel?âÂ
Haerin shrugged. âOnly to the people I know could take me the wrong way but still love me anyway.â
Another face Haerin had was one that showed her wide, toothy smile. It took a lot to get it out of her, until it didnât. It made you realize that Haerin wasnât as hard to make happy as people thought. She said she was often told she was a strange girl; her exes never knew what she wanted and broke things off when they gave up.Â
But when you moved in together, she laughed when she heard you speak through a mouthful of toothpaste. She smiled when you kissed her under the moonlight at the balcony. Her eyes lit up whenever you told her you got her a new book.Â
âHow do you always know what I want?â she asked in disbelief, flipping the hardbound on her lap. She looked even prettier without the makeup or distressed perm, when she lounged on your sofa with her natural straight hair wearing your shirt.
âYou said you wanted a classic mystery, and you could never go wrong with Sherlock Holmes.â You waved it off. You turned the television off for the night. Haerin hated the drill of the multiple-of-five volume dialogue when sheâs trying to get herself sleepy.
âBut how did you know? Itâs so perfect.â
Doesnât she get it? âItâs easy to tell what you want, Haerin. Ridiculously easy, I donât even have to try.â
Haerin rolled her eyes, but she got an idea. She crawled over to you and made herself comfortable on your lap. Her bare thighs were smooth against yours. You held her waist as she stared deeply into your eyes.Â
Not only was Haerin attentive and sweet. It was like God took her qualities and made her physical form just as beautiful. She had a tiny, blemishless face with a nose you loved to nuzzle against. Her body was small and her waist fit into your hands perfectly, like you were made to hold her.
Haerin was smirking. âAlright then,â she said. âIf you always know what I want, tell me what I want now.â
Her voice was soft. You looked down at her pink mouth and back up into those dreamy eyes. Like you said, way too easy.
âMe.â
âDonât get smart,â said Haerin, but she proved you right with a deep, literally breathtaking kiss.
When Haerin kissed, it was like she was trying to pull the soul out of your mortal form and join it with her own. She closed her eyes and shoved her tongue deep in your mouth, her hips working in circles on your lap. The tiny pair of lace panties quickly got wet, and she moaned when your tip bumped against that patch of arousal.
This face was one she only showed to you. You slipped your hands under that big shirt and felt her toned abdomen and perky breasts, feeling her up and down. Every little touch made Haerinâs breath catch. It made her grind her clit more urgently against your erection, looking for something only you can give her. Most of all, it made her face twist and contort into one of pure pleasure, eyes widening and lips parting.
Haerin couldnât take it anymore. She slipped her panties to the side, showing how wet you made her. Sheâs soaked as she took you inside her. Her body tightened up and curled into your arms. Your T-shirt long gone, Haerin started to ride you like she needed it. Like youâd disappear if she didnât get what she wanted while you were here.
âOh, oh fuck, right thereâŠâ Haerin shivered when you started thrusting up to meet her halfway. She had coated your length from base to head with her juices. Thereâs an endless stream of it.
You pulled her down with you. The sofa springs bore the intensity of your strokes. You held her hand as you kissed and bit her neck, groaning into her vanilla-sweet flesh. She was so easy to take when she was always so wet for you. Her legs locked behind your back in order to keep you there.
âDonât stop, please,â whimpered Haerin, eyes filled with stars. âI love you. Donât leave me.â
The lamp sitting on your center table went out. You couldnât see Haerinâs face bathed in reds and oranges anymore. But you loved her, and so you kept your promise.
-
You were finally sure after years of not having things figured out. You were unsure about what you wanted to be. You were even more unsure when the time came for you to choose a course. When you graduated in that stadium with flowers surrounding you and cheers deafening you, you didnât know what to do with your degree. You had no idea where to go.
But Haerin made you so certain of yourself. You didnât want to paint her as someone who was the solution to all your problems and illustrate her to be a savior she never chose to be. But it wasnât a coincidence that she came right when you were lost and suddenly you were on track for the first time in your life.
She made you want to become something. Just looking at her caused you to think of all the beautiful things a beautiful girl like her deservedâa good boyfriend, a nice car, a relationship that nurtured her. So you worked hard to give her all of that.
She held a hand to her mouth when she saw the gorgeous car parked in the garage. She was half-sobbing, half-laughing. âThis is so sweet. What did I do to deserve you? Thank you, butââ
âWhat?â
She burst out laughing like never before. âI donât know how to driveâŠâ she replied. She looked a little sullen now. You took money out of your own pocket to get her a beautiful car only for her to be unable to drive. She couldnât even parallel park. You probably thought it was a waste.
But you placed an arm around her and kissed her on top of her head. âItâs alright, baby,â you said. âIâll do it for you. We can go wherever you like.âÂ
All she had to do was say the words. You took her everywhere: malls, forests, airports. Funny; you only got a driverâs license the year before. You commuted back and forth but with Haerin, you revved the car up and picked her up from the salon.Â
All she had to do was ask. So now, you were at a beach where the shores were nearly white and the skies seemed to fall down on your shoulders. The clouds bore the weight of it all. It was nearly winter, so there was but a faint bit of sunlight. It refracted in the bubbles Haerin blew into the wind.Â
She was smiling so brightly. That was the only sunshine you needed.
Later that night, she said she didnât want to leave yet. So you started a campfire while she bought soft marshmallows from the nearby grocery. A woollen quilt kept her warm. You let the fire toast your marshmallows into a rich brown.
âWhat if we get lost doing this?â Haerin asked. She looked at the stars in the sky, the sand around her. âDoingâŠâ She gestured vaguely with her hands. âAll of this. These wild adventures without a map or even a GPS.â
âWe wonât,â you replied. You sounded so sure of yourself. It didnât once occur to you that you could live a life without Kang Haerin. She belonged in your passenger seat, your lap, the deep brooks of your heart.
She bit off a piece of marshmallow from her stick. âWe still have to be careful though. We wonât know every street forever.â
Right. Because one day, when you two got older and hopefully wiser, these roads would change. You wouldnât know everybody in the neighborhood as soon as the newer, younger ones filed in. Everything would be nothing like you knew it was.
You hated to say it, but in spite of the darkness that dressed Haerinâs words, she was right. It wouldnât be like this forever.
âOkay,â you said finally, thinking for a moment. âIf I lost you, what would you do to lead me back?â
Haerin sat back into the sand. So many thoughts ran into her head at all hours of the day, and if you didnât love her to death, you wouldnât know. She often looked too mature, too composed to ever be bothered by anything. The Kang Haerin everybody knew was resilient. And when she was too resilient, she could risk being malleable to people. They could lie to themselves by saying they could mold her into whoever they wanted her to be.Â
But that wasnât Haerin. So she turned up her chin and said, âIâd open a light.â
âWhat kind of light?âÂ
âI dunno, anything.â She shrugged. âA fire, lamplight, or campfire. It doesnât matter. If I shine it, I know youâll get me out of the dark.â
The flames danced in golden flickers in her eyes. Haerin stared at it until her marshmallow burned and joined the ashes at the bottom of the log pile. You gave her your share.
âHow about you?â Haerin asked. She scooted closer until the contact of your bodies seemed to spark hotter than the campfire itself. âHow would I know if youâre lost?â
âDonât worry about that. Leave the saving to me.â
-
Haerin didnât like fighting with you. It made her cry real tears that could fill a pool if either of you were rich enough to afford one. She didnât like all the yelling. She didnât like how small it made her feel and not in the good way you managed to make it out to be when youâre in the chambers of your bedroom.
You tried not to yell at her. Whenever your voice got too intense, you turned away from her so she couldnât see that you were angry. It helped you too because you couldnât bear to see her sad. It felt like you were one with her emotions and tore you into pieces as it did to her.
âI just donât know why youâre doing this,â she said. âYou said you loved me. Why donât you fucking show it?â
Unbelievable. You curled your hands through your hair and stopped yourself from pulling it out of the scalp.Â
âWhat else do you want me to do? I give you everything, Haerin. My car, my clothes, my time.âÂ
The calendar pages ripped faster than the seams on your jacket. Itâs been months since you graduated and sheâs nearly twenty years old. Youâre happy with each other. Youâre the best company both of you could ever ask for. No one can understand you quite like Haerin does.
But oftentimes, that isnât enough.
Itâs what sheâs trying to get across. Haerinâs dress tatters were crushed in her fists. Sheâs crying her heart out because she didnât like being reminded of that. Ever. Youth was so comfortable it tricked you into believing it was something eternal.Â
You finally had the courage to turn around and look her in the eyes. To look her in those big, beautiful eyes and force yourself to recognize the truth. There were real problems in the world that trips and outings and sex couldnât solve.Â
âTime, baby,â you said softly, in a broken voice you couldnât claim as your own. It had been a while since you sounded so unsure. âDo you know how little time we have left?â
Neither of you should be blinded by the quick bliss you had now. You shouldnât be fools. The lampâs starting to look weird again. You needed to wake upâ
Wake up.
-
Wake up.Â
The air that hits you is cold. You open your eyes groggily and quickly find out why. A blue hospital gown doesnât really help warm your legs. The blanket is thin and cheap. The only warmth you can find is from the dull sting of pain from the needles shoved in the veins of your arms.Â
What an odd dream that was. You lift yourself up on the bed the best you can. Your body still feels tired. Part of you wants to go back to sleep again, but you stop yourself. If you close your eyes, youâre not sure if youâre going to wake up again.
You trail your fingers on the thick bandage taped to your skull. Around you, colorful balloons dance in the steady AC wind. You squint. One reads, in cursive: Happy 20th!Â
Before you is a wide television screen. Right now, it presents a photo of a girl with catlike eyes and hair curled for what looks to be a music show event. Sheâs smiling, but the headline gives her no reason to. It tells you of the lawsuit that follows her and her band at their heels, how it wonât leave them alone.
The red and blue colors of her stock image are blinding. You ask the doctor to turn off the light.
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You press a finger to your ear, take a deep breath, and push into the side doorâinto the nightclub proper.
Thereâs a half-second where you go completely deaf before your hearing returns to you. The noise hits you all at once: the hissing spray of the fog machines overhead, the thumping of the bass that threatens the warranty of the surround-sound speakers, the cheers and jeers of the crowd, the rhythmless thumping of bouncing bodies. Everything is a shade of red-orange. You have to hold up a hand to your face to stop one of the strobe lights from blinding you. As you take your first few steps into the scene this evening, you smoothen out the creases of your blazer and nod.
This is SAXOâthe most prestigious nightclub on this side of Seoul. Belonging to a collection of different spots all under The Kingdom Collective, hundredsâif not thousandsâof warm bodies find their ways at SAXOâs doorstep to drink, spend, and party to forget their pitiful lives for even just a few hours.
But not you. Not you.
You take a deep breath. Really feel it in your chest. And when you exhale slowly, letting the drag of air on the way out tickle your nostrils, you lock in as time slows down to a blur all around you.
You scan the room.
Slashed purse at Table Fourteen. Half-filled beer bottle at the DJâs mixing pad. Fingers thrusted at the bar area.
Index to thumb, you snap. Then it all comes back to life.
You strut over to Table Fourteen and grab the idiot with curly hair by the inside of his belt, preventing his escape. âHuh? Whatâ?â
Smack. You backhand the son of a bitch and take the opportunity to grab the wallet he was just holding as he stumbles backwards onto the floor.
You sift through the I.D. cards and glance at the group of unaware ladies who are now looking at you in confusion. âThis must be yours. Keep an eye on your things please. Our staff can only do so much.â
After the ponytailed woman nods at you in silent gratitude, you whistle and call over a triad of bouncers. They immediately swarm the perpetrator and have him pinned with his arms behind his back. âYou know the drill. Put his photo up on the wall. Then give these ladies a bottle from the top shelf. On the house.â
The same lady from earlier gasps and shakes her head. âNo no, itâs fine. Getting my wallet backâs more than enough.â
But you calm her down with a gesture of your hand and signal to one of the bouncers. âHennessy. On me.â
When her drunken friends scream in elation over hearing this, the lady smiles and lifts her glass up to you. You salute with two fingers before trudging towards the dance floor.
Cutting through should be easy, but the ongoing rave makes the crowd feel like an actual ocean.
Shoulders bumping. Backs pressing into you. Whispers exchanging at decibels higher than they should be. You donât part the crowdâyou know better than to do that. Instead you run your hand through your hair and get with it. Get with them. You go with the flow. Head bopping. Arms in the air. Swaying and shimmying past person to person. All until you reach the elevated podium.
One of the bouncers stationed at the front sees you and snaps into a straighter posture, but when you lift both your hands at him he learns to relax a bit. âFirst night?â
He glances left and right to make sure youâre talking to him. âY-Yeah ⊠s-s-sorry, boss.â
âRelax. Take it easy. Just remember: make sure everyoneâs having a good time. The safe way.â
âY-You got it!â he wheezes, unclipping the velvet cord so you can pass through. You pat him on the back and squeeze his shoulder before jogging up the steps towards the sound booth.
Pressing fingers against your ear to fold it shut, you dip forward and jab your waist at the DJ. You give him no time to complain. This sudden motion makes the wire connecting his headphones to his laptop coil around his bottle of beer and would have sent it toppling onto the mixing pad had you not swiped it up in time.
âJesus Christâyou fucking scared me. Canât you see Iâm in the middle of a set here?â Hajoon groaned, unraveling the wire.Â
âI said no drinks while youâre on set. This is the third time this week.â
He flaps his lips in mockery, snatching the beer back from you. Downs it in one go. Sighs in contentment. Then shoves it back to your chest, dampening the fold of your blazer. âWhatever, bossman. Learn to loosen up a little. Hereâready for the drop?â
As soon as he pushes one of the doodads on his device, you hear the music start to quicken and pulsate throughout the room. You can feel the hastening thrum in the back of your throat. When you think you canât take the tension anymore, Hajoon flicks his wrist and throws his hands in the air.
âEverybody make some noise!â
Then the drop happens and everyoneâs cheering to the beat. Tongues out. Fists pumping. Bodies yielding.
Hajoon jabs you with his waist and wraps an arm around your neck. âYou see that, bossman? Thatâs the kind of magic we fucking enable each night. So will you cut me some slack? If it helps, Iâll cut back on the drinks too. I only got to sneak one in because you sent a newbie to guard me tonight.â
You peel his sweaty arm off you and dust yourself off. âWeâll see. Maybe play some good music first, then Iâll think about it.âÂ
He hisses. âSo fucking cold. But that makes me respect you all the moreânot gonna lie.â
You ignore him and duck under the cord to rejoin the shifting masses. The new bouncer doesnât even get a chance to say goodbye as you slither your way once more through the crowd to get to the other side of the room where the bar is.
âI fucking told youâwe paid for our table in advance. What do you mean we need to show you âproof of purchaseâ? Fucking bitch. Your place is already expensiveâ.â
âGentlemen, what seems to be the problem here.â
The gravitas you exude is enough to silence the four men trying to overpower and intimidate your bar staff.
âIs there anything we can do for you?â you repeat, making sure they hear you over the second beat drop Hajoon just laid out for the people. âYou can relay it to me directly.â
One of the guys tugs on the sleeve of his complaining friend, but he swats him away. Heâs the only one who still looks arrogant despite his face being as red as a raspberry. âYa ⊠who the fuck are you? Are you their manager? Iâd like to speak with the fucking manager.â
âYouâre talking to him.â
âO-Oh ⊠oh, then good,â he flinches. âLike I was sayingâyour clubâs trying to fucking scam me and my friends. Bleeding us dry, huh? We paid for the table reservation fee AND the three-hour extension for our table. And they say we canât get more fucking drinks?â
You gesture to the poor girl just trying to do her job. She hands you one of her small tablets and you begin scrolling through records. âSays here you paid in full and still have some credit for your tab. What do you want to order?â
He scoffs. âWas thinking of getting me and my boys a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. Each. But youâre all ruining our fun, so maybe weâll justâ.â
âYou canât afford it.â
The man raises a brow. âExcuse me? The fuck did you justâ.â
âI said. You canât afford it,â you utter once more, diction sharp enough to penetrate through their thick skulls. âThe tableâs a million won. You already spent nine-hundred thousand on other liquors. Four bottles of this gin will cost you two-hundred-and-forty thousand moreâover your cap.â
âI canâ.â
You point to the lanyard one of his friends wears. Then to the knock-off Ray Bans on his other friendâs forehead. Then to the crumpled envelope in his right pocket. âKeep burning your stipend money and youâll be out of college faster than I can kick you out of this club.â
His little group inhales so tensely through clenching teeth over what you just relayed to them that their little leader starts to physically fume in the well-deserved embarrassment. âY-Yeah? Well fuck you, asshat. Letâs go, guys. Weâre leavingâ.â
You hold your arm out to stop his lanky body in time, grabbing some middle shelf liquor in the same stroke. âHere. Bit over your tab, but on me. Enjoy the rest of your night.â
You donât get the privilege to see his dumfounded face. You salute the woman working the bar before heading towards the back wings.
This was you. This is your nightly life as the manager of SAXO. Itâs never dull. Not with the constant flow of people like these it isnât.
When you lean against the wall adjacent to the restrooms, one of the bouncers notices you and offers you a seat by one of the empty tables along the balcony area, but you reject it with a shake of your chin. Hard to patrol when seated. Hard to monitor without a vantage point. Thereâs never any rest for the wicked, so you donât allow yourself any either. Instead, you fix the grip of your watch against your wrist and check the time.
Twelve-fifty-three.
Glancing back up, your hairs stand on edge.
You find yourself as if you were on the roof of the building. Atop SAXO. Where the humdrum of the club below can blur enough to the point that it can almost be considered silence. You take what you can get. In this spec of solitude amidst your night to night affairs for work, you enjoy being able to stare up at the evening sky and just gaze. Stargaze.
When you look at the stars, you never really focus on a single fixed point. There are many stars out there, constantly burning, some already having died out, some whose light have yet to reach your eyes. They all look the same to you. Same shining orbs. Same glow and halation. Same patch of freckles that dot the expanse of the universe. But once in a while, once you let your guard downâif you can even let itâyou find yourself drawn to a star that calls to you. Grabs your attention. Not brighter. Not differently-colored. Not even more attractive.
It just pulls you in. And before you know it, itâs all you look at. Itâs all your weary eyes focus on.
Itâs all you see.
Thatâs the same thing she does to you.
Chests lift and drop. Shoulders form waves that veil her visage. Strobe lights paint everything around her in a light haze. She whips her head around, hair fanning out downwards. Dip of the chin. Rise of the nose. Lock of the eyes.
She isnât just looking at you. Sheâs caught you.
And the pull of her lips into a smirk is enough evidence of it.
You know very well that meeting someoneâs gaze at the club is a death sentence. You know their appearance now. How they act. What they do. Where they are. You can track them down around the dance floor. Pinpoint their table. Vibe check their company. Note how intoxicated they are. Check to see if theyâre hitting on someone. Or if anyoneâs hitting on them.
But when someone catches you staring? That isnât just a death sentence.
Itâs an execution. And she drops the guillotine on you the moment she bites her lip.
You look away. You just meant to look respectfully. You hope you did. You didnât linger, did you? If you did, it was just out of appreciation. Admiration. Sheâs beautiful. That much you can glean from an initial glance. Not enough to mark her in your mind, but enough to make her relevant in your field of view.
Youâre an idiot. You look again.
Honey blonde hair, dark at the roots. Freshly threaded brows. Slender noseâsharp at the tip, softer around the sides. Oval-framed visage that looks soft upon a caress but sharp upon provocation. Lower lip so plump you forget she has two to form the curve of her smirk.
But really. What catches you are her eyes.Â
Because theyâre staring right at you now.
You look away. For good this time. Youâre certain because you push off the wall and walk a few steps away from your initial perching position. Not stopping until youâre sure that she isnât looking at you anymore
You brush past a pair of heaving girls rushing to the toilets to vomit.Â
Nope, still looking at you.
You lean over a group of college kids playing Kingâs Cup and ask them how their night is.
Nope, still looking at you.
You run a hand across the bar counter to inspect its cleanliness.Â
Nope, still looking at you.
She wonât fucking stop looking at you. And you hate it.
Because you canât stop looking at her either.
She shifts. Hands behind her head, hips swaying in a figure eight to the music. Youâre still pissed at Hajoon, but you have to thank him for the boppy track heâs put on now. It makes her thrust her elbows out. Side to side. Doing a little spin. And when she comes back around, she smirks at you again.
Itâs only then that you scan the rest of her. Filling out the form of her figure.
Buckled corset tight around her petite frame. Red pants dotted with silver buttons that you just know jingle with even the slightest movements. Nails painted silver. Armband dripped in gold. Boots that cheat her height and allow her to look taller men in the eye.
But really. What catches your attention this time isnât in the seen. Itâs in the unseen.
At the swell around her cleavage thatâs threatening to spill out.
You look away. But youâre not sure youâve done so because you can still see her in your peripheral. Like what happens when you stare at the sun for too long like a dumbass and it imprints its afterimage so fucking deep into your retinas.
You move over to the receiving area where thereâs still a line steadily being processed by your diligent staff. A pair of bouncers recognize you and one of them dips their shades to greet you. You hang around them for a moment. Cross your arms. Return to the crowding dance floor. Let out a sigh.
Holy shit sheâs moving towards you now.
One guyâs blatantly looking down her top. Anotherâs grinding against her. But she pushes past them, body still enslaved by the beat. But honing in on you like a beacon.Â
You make the mistake of looking her in the eyes again. She smirks wider. Like sheâs got you in her clutches with a lasso, she shimmies through the sweaty bodies around her until sheâs parted from the crowd.
You snap behind your back, and time pauses.
You scan the room.
Wide hips flaring out of the confines of her fitted leather pants. Gait so resonant you can almost hear its cadence amidst the blasting music. Face dyed a myriad of colors, but her expression remains unchanging.
âAre you just going to keep staring?â
It didnât work.
Sheâs right in front of you now. Three steps away. You fail to realize it until she points it out. âNot much of a dancer?â
âI dapple. Just not tonight. Just not here.â
âIâll only believe it when I see it. Too pompous to join the crowd? Are we not good enough for you?â she remarks, voice lilting like a tease towards the end.
âGot business to attend toâalways. Canât mix work and play.â
âDidnât seem that way when you were eye-fucking me just now.â
The bouncers on either side of you flinch. You can tell because of the way these two burly buffoons fucking twitched. She can tell too because sheâs two steps away now and pressing the matter still.
âI wasnât eye-fucking you. Just patrolling. Just work.â
âIs your job supposed to be undressing wasted girls like me in your mind? Youâre doing a terrible job then. Iâm pretty fucking wasted right now, but I donât feel very naked.â
âYouâre notâ.â
Sheâs one step away now.
âHm?â she raises, and so does her brow. âToo on the nose for you? Or are you still âworkingâ?â
Her hand finds its way to your chest as she presses into your clavicle, wiping away that one bead of sweat that rolls down your blazer. Your eyes never leave her face. Even as she tugs on and adjusts the rise of your collar. âWhatâs it going to take to be supervised by you? Directly.â
You tilt your head to the side. When that isnât enough, you step as far back as you can before bumping into another velvet cord. Then you sigh. âRespectfully. Hands off. Iâm an employee here.â
Her eyes widen like she just caught something. âPart of the background? Boring. Someone like you being off-limitsâsuch a waste.â
You donât know how to respond to that. Thatâs fine. Because she doesnât let you. âIs it company policy to not mingle with your clientele? I just saw you getting real handsy with a group of girls earlier. Youâre making me jealous just thinking about it.â
The implication of that statement is something you just keep to yourself.
Before she can move closer, you hold your hand out. âIf thereâs anything I can help you with, just let me know. But this?â you pause, pointing your finger to her then back to yourself. âNot a chance.â
She clicks her teeth and backs away too. Finally. But her eyes are what do you over. Sheâs rolling them at you. Mockery. Frustration. Disappointment. âYouâre no fun. Keep eye-fucking me then. Hope you get a kick out of it.â
Before you know it, she seamlessly rejoins the crowd, dancing with the masses once again.
What the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened?Â
You donât know. Youâre not sure.Â
All you can think of is finishing your patrol so you can get some rest. You want to make sure everythingâs in order for the evening before you leave the rest to your second. So you continue on your nightly routine. Just like nothing happened.
But god forbid this woman is making it difficult for you to pretend like nothing happened.
You canât explain it.
When you patrol the lower tablesâthe ones closer to the dance floorâyou see her spiraling around the edges of the crowd. Not really lingering too long at any one spot. Like sheâs trailing you. Following you. You had to make one of the customers repeat themselves when you got distracted by the way she âfixedâ her top, flashing you enough skin to imagine the rest of whatâs hidden beneath it.
Over by the entrance, while you were in the middle of resolving a dispute over fake I.D.s, she was hovering behind you. At a safe distance. Behind the barriers and bouncers. Sheâs watching you work. Observing how you tell someone off without needing to raise your voice. Smirking at you, twirling her hair, staring at you as sheâs playing thoughts in her mind that you can only assume are no good.
Even when you sneak away to relieve yourself at the staff washroom. The moment you come back out, sheâs sipping on a glass of whiskey. Staring daggers at your surprised face. With that gaze of hers that short-circuits your brain. She doesnât say anything. Just sips. Just drinks. Just relishes in your flushed state as you hurry yourself away from her.
Sheâs not even meddling. Sheâs not even provoking.
Sheâs just there.
Sheâs going around you, but god does it feel like youâre the one orbiting her. Because this woman knows sheâs got you.
Sheâs got you good.
âAnything else I missed? Iâll leave the cleanup and closing to you. Like always,â you tell your second, whoâs already writing things down on his notepad. âAnd Minho, please, for the love of god, will you stop wearing those ridiculous ties?â
Minho peeks up from his sheets and pokes the yellow rubber-ducky tie with his pen. âThis? My mother bought it for me, boss. Itâd be a waste not to wear it.â
You pinch the bridge of your nose. âAt least wear it somewhere else. Wellâwhatever. Before I go, make sure to keep an eye out on Table Nine. Got a feeling theyâre runnersâ.â
âBoss!â
The beckon rings like a siren. You register it immediately and are ready to strafe past Minho when you see one of the serving staff runs up to the both of you. Panting. Completely out of breath. âBoss, thereâs ⊠ha ⊠thereâs a commotion on the dance floor!â
Your eyes first dart over to Hajoon. But oddly enough, heâs not trying to hit on anyone again this time. Instead, heâs watching something. Watching someone.
In fact, everyone on the dance floorâs watching someone. Noticeably so now that you realize thereâs a small circular parting in the center of the crowd.
You follow the staff over and freeze at the outer edge of this commotion.
You see her.
Sheâs dancing like she owns the place. Like she owns the dance floor. Hajoonâs got his hands on the beat, but sheâs got her hands all over her body. Sheâs being a diva right now. Bathing in the glow of the lights shining down on her. Feeling herself. Basking in the attention thatâs being dripped all over her.
She ropes in one guy at a time. Dancing with him. Swaying next to him. Grinding on him. She slides her back up and down the front of one of them. Wraps her arms around the neck of another. One of the poor blokes makes the mistake of moving in to kiss her. She immediately bites his lip and gets a kick out of his pained reaction.
Your fist is clenching tightly by your side, and youâre not sure why.
Before you know it, youâre pushingâno, shovingâpeople aside just to get to the center of it all. Just to get to her. Tugging on the length of your necktie, when you make it to the lady in question, you hold out an arm to stop the next guy from entertaining her, and just grab her by her arm.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â you demand. She reeks of alcohol and sweat. âYouâre drunk. Youâre making a scene.â
âYeah? Is that not allowed?â she prods, stepping closer to you. She shrugs your grip off and crosses her arms. âDidnât think it wasnât, but hey, made you look didnât I? I knew it was the only way to grab your attention.â
You glance past her. To Hajoon. The man scrambles for his headphones and changes up the music, inviting everyone to return to the dance floor and party like thereâs no tomorrow once again. Back to the regular routine of things.
But you donât let up on her.
And she doesnât let up on you.
Because her hands are now resting on your waist.
âSaw you talking to shorty over there,â she announces, pointing at Minho with her lips. âThought youâd be off the clock now, manager. Didnât think youâd eye-fuck me again that quickly though.â
âI was not eyeâ.â
She pulls you in. Whether itâs with her hands or with her gaze, you canât tell. âJust shut up and dance.â
You indulge her.
You lied. Youâre not a very good dancer. And she notices this. She leads you both. At times she lets you do your stupid little shindig while sheâs busting out a move. Other times sheâs holding you by the wrist and guiding your hands to either her shoulders or her hips.
And youâre starting to come undone.
How could you not?Â
Every run of her fingers across one of your shoulders to the other. Every bump of her butt against your crotch. Every nick of her knee against your thigh. Sheâs toying with you. Sheâs building you up. Leading you on. Because she knows.
She knows you canât do a single damn thing about it.
You donât keep track of time. But after what feels like an hour of working the dance floor with you, she finally pulls away enough to give you your own personal space again. She walks you over to the wings to where her table is. Table Twenty-Three.
First thing you see are two couples engaged in a contest to see who could be the sloppiest when making out.
âDonât mind them. They wonât get naked. At least, they told me this isnât that kind of club,â she explains. She casually reaches over one of the couples, who you are pretty sure are sneaking in some fingering on the couch, and grabs one of their drinks. She sniffs it. She reels. But she downs it anyway.
âAre we done here? Had your fill yet?â you ask. Unsure of where youâre trying to go with that.
âYeah. Be seeing you.â
What?
You swear you almost hear yourself say that out loud. You donât know what face youâre making, but it must be an entertaining oneâfor her at least.
âWas fun. Maybe weâll come back here again.â
She followed you around. She stalked you like a hawk. She dragged you into her little shenanigans in the middle of work. All for this? All for nothing?
It was your turn to feel dumbfounded tonight. Dumbfounded because you were a fool for expecting anything bigger to have come out of this.
You bit your tongue enough to bleed iron into your tastebuds before nodding stiffly. âRight. Right, be seeing you.â
To add insult to injury, she waves at you with a smirk as you lug your body towards the staff exit.
---
âBoss, Table Elevenâs going red.â
You know that signal. You know that queue.
In moments, youâre already halfway towards said table, when your shoes screech against the polished floor. Stopping yourself.
âHm? Care to join us?â
Itâs her again.
Honey blonde hair pulled behind her. Black ribbed plunging half-sleeve top baring a fraction of her upper midriff. Bandeaux bra on full display. Exposed skin moist from collecting the condensation dripping from her glass.
You clock the empty vodka bottle on the table. You scan the eight different people gathered around the table with her. You take note of her challenging half-lidded stare.
âIf youâre done with that drink, Iâm taking it.â
âTsk, weâre just playing spin the bottle. Is that not allowed?â
âYour little âgameâ is disturbing everyone else. Take a hint,â you warn her, eyes fixed on her face that remains unflinching before you.
âItâs a fucking club. Of course weâll be loud. Donât want your customers having fun, manager-nim?â
The way she addresses you makes your blood boil all the more. âGive me thatâ.â
She beats you to it and spins the bottle. Lo and behold it lands with the snout facing you. The bottom facing her.
Smirking, she taps her lip with her newly painted red nail. âFive shots of scotch. In a row. Think you can do it?â
The crowd around her table is clapping and leering at you. But you ignore them. âIâm not playingâ.â
She loops an arm around you and blinks innocently. Twice. For just a moment. âArenât you supposed to be the life of the party? Letâs get this night started properly. Shots! Shots! Shots!â
They begin to mimic your chant. âShots! Shots! Shots!â
The other tables begin to chime in. âShots! Shots! Shots!â
Soon even some of your serving staff applaud you. Egg you. Even when you give them the eye.
You glance at the bottle of scotch conveniently already at the table. You glance at the clubgoers surrounding you now. Then you glance at her.
âI donât drink. Not anymore.â
You get booed in a heartbeat.
Shrugging, she dips down and fills up one of the shotglasses for herself. âSuit yourself.â Before you know it, sheâs already drank one. Then two. Then five. All down the hatch.
Just as you are about to leave this brewing cesspool, someone tugs you from behind.
Youâre not one to take that lying down. Ready to unwrap your arm from them and shove them to the ground. But the lightness of the grip is what throws you off.
And itâs enough hesitation for her to pounce on your lips and kiss you.
You donât pull away. You canât.Â
Sheâs holding your face. Both hands. One on each cheek. When you tug upwards, she follows, moaning into your mouth. But where you expect her bare tongue, something liquid is in its place. When you realize whatâs happening, itâs already too late.
She just snowballed five shots of scotch right into your mouth.
When the taste of liquor hits your tastebuds, something fires in your brain. Something reflexive. Something ingrained. You rip your lips from her and spray out the alcohol. The two dudes behind you are fucking pissed, but you apologize sincerely and call for some staff to help clean the mess.
Returning to her, you grab her by the elbow. âI told you I donât fucking drinkâ.â
âThat wasnât a drink. That was a taste,â she corrects you, smirking once more. Using that fucking gaze on you again. âTaste of me. Donât get too drunk now.â
Youâre unable to react. You let her kiss you once more on the lips and giggle before rejoining her posse for the night.
âAre you alright, boss? You lookâ.â
âDonât just stand there, Minho. Get me some damn water,â you snap as you feel the liquor burning your tastebuds still. Thank god it didnât drip into your throat. A taste was more than enough to give you goosebumps.
As Minho disappears towards the bar, you just watch as this woman pours cognac down her throat. Straight from the bottle. While looking at you.
With a smirk.
âB-Boss âŠ? Boss!â
âWhat is it newbie? I donât have all night,â you huff at the bouncer. You could have been nicer to him. Nicer about it. But doing arithmetic manually on a calculator and a physical spread sheet for hours would put anyone in a fuckass mood. âWhat do you need from me?â
âS-S-Someoneâs um ⊠strippingâ.â
You donât even have to ask for context.
As soon as you burst out from the break room, your eyes immediately train on the sound booth. On Hajoon.
On her.
You claw through the crowd. Is it to get closer to the unfolding scene? Is it to stop it? Youâre not sure. You donât fucking know. All you can picture are the things that will spread about your club after tonight if this continues.
When you make it to the divider, the newbie watches your back as you jump over the cord. From the first few steps up towards the elevator platform alone, you get a clear view from the side.
The twin-tailed little bratâs undressing in the fucking DJ booth. And Hajoonâs just letting her. Of course he fucking would.
Her tail point fur jacket hits the floor first. Pools at the ankles like shorn elegance. Pure irony though given the debauchery that persists to unfold. Her hair whips forward. Then back. Sheâs dancing in place like sheâs boxed in a tight circle. Hands draw forwards and slide down Hajoonâs chest as she sways downwards herself too. When she shoots back up, she makes the extra effort to jut her butt out.
If you didnât have any self-control, you would have slapped the fucking tease out of her voluminous rump.
Itâs a miracle theyâre still contained within her shorts. Those things are cut closer to her crotch than her knees. You cut her some slack. It compliments her plain white crop top that exposes the expanse of her navel.
Your focus drifts to the jewel affixed above her belly button. Sparkling. Beckoning to you.
When you glance back up again, sheâs caught you once more. âEye-fucking me up close this time? Get in line, manager. This oneâs a public show.â
Hajoon notices your arrival and lifts up his beer, nearly fucking spilling it on his setup like an idiot. âYo, bossman! Whereâd you pull this baddie? She said you knew each other? You two banging or something?â
But the woman between you both hushes him with a finger and whispers something you canât hear from all the music. Hajoon licks his lips when she pulls away and winks at you. âFine shit, man. Fine fucking shit! Letâs turn this party up!â
As the tempo of the song speeds up, so does her dancing. Sheâs got a way with her bodyâyouâll give her that. Even as you walk back down, you canât help but take a peek. When you do, you see her flex and swirl that torso of hers like she was goddamn built for it.
She locks eyes with you a final time before digging her thumbs into the hem of her top. âThink you can handle this?â
Just when you lunge for her, she chuckles and puts her hands back down. âDid you really think I was a slut? Disappointing. And here I thought you cared about me more than that.â
Clenching your teeth so hard they could shatter, you pick her coat off the floor and dump it in one of the chairs behind Hajoon. The last thing you see before heading back is her playing up the role sheâs taken on for the night and acting as Hajoonâs eye candy for his set.
She manages to catch you in the crowd and licks her lips, biting her tongue midway.
âFucking brat.â
âFuck meâboss!â
You quite literally snap your pen. The ink fountains forward but youâre faster. You wrap it up in some of your old quarterly reports. Cursing under your breath, you dump the blotting mess beneath you and drag your fingers across your face. âWhat the fuck is the problem this time, Minho?â
âItâs her. Again.â
Thatâs not possible. Itâs almost five in the morning now. Clubâs been closed for an hour at least. What the hell was she still doing here?
No matter. You push out of your chair. Donât bother to put your blazer back on. Just lower your head and allow Minho to accompany you to the scene of the next crime.
You hear it before you see itâthe sound of glass breaking.
Then it all comes into view.
The closing staff standing frozen outside the bar. The three bouncers exchanging looks at each other in an attempt to figure out what to do. Hajoon whoâs finishing his order of truffle fries while recording the whole thing.
Not a single one of them dared to stop her.
âAll of you. Out. Now.â
Your command echoes throughout the now empty club. All eyes are on you as you tug on your tie and tilt your head to the side. Vein along your neck threatening to pop. âI said. Out. Now.â
âManager, sheâs been causingâ.â
You raise your palm up to one of the bouncers. âIâll take it from here. Leave closing to me. And Minho, go take our closing staff out for some fish sticks. Use my card.â
âBoss âŠâ
You toss him your credit card and gesture for them to get the hell out of here. They look confused. They look concerned. But by the end of it, they all feel relieved. Even Hajoon whose set finished earlier tonight tagged along with your staff to freeload. You let it slide. You have bigger fish to fry.
And she reminds you of this with the sound of another glass item shattering across the floor.
âOops. That one was accidental this time.â
You saunter over to the bar and lean on the counter. Arms folded against each other. Eyes trained on this little goddamn devil in front of you.Â
Her outfit surprises you.
You thought you had her figured out. The more comfortable she got here at SAXO, the less youâve seen her wear. But tonight, sheâs all covered up. Long sleeve leopard print. Matching ankle length tights. Pink nails. Some glitter sprinkled across her eyes just above her splash of blush. For someoneâs whoâs been clubbing all night, she looks like she just came fresh out of the shower.
She smirks. âYou just love eye-fucking me, donât you?â
âCut the charade. Itâs just you and me. What the fuck is your deal?â
She raises a brow. Runs a finger across the convex surface of a bottle of Patron in her hands. Contemplating. âDoes it always have to be something in here?â
âThereâs always something with you.â
You could never understand her. Even if you tried. She does everything she can think of to be an absolute thorn in your side. But she never acknowledges you beyond the provocation. She pushes and pulls. But she never reaches. And youâre not sure what irritates you more.
The fact that she keeps doing this each night. Or the fact that you want her to reach you.
Youâd be lying if you said you hadnât enjoyed the attention.
Looking at that flirty smile of hers that dances dangerously across the boundary of your tolerance, you canât help but acknowledge it. Sheâs played you. Sheâs played you good. Attention-seeking. Body-chasing. Mind-filling. Every nightâevery fucking nightâsheâs on your mind. What sheâs up to this time. What sheâs wearing. If sheâs looking at you. Looking for you. Testing you. Teasing you. Tempting you. Youâve thought about what it might be like if you werenât surrounded by other clubgoers. What you might say to her if you had the chance to pull her away in private. What you might do to her if you were away from any prying eyes.
And now, as youâve said, itâs just the two of you. There was no need to pull on any acts.
Thatâs what you want to believe, at least. Itâs immediately shattered once you see the bottle smash onto the floor. Spilling alcohol across her boots.
âOopsie,â she utters without a hint of fucking remorse. âThat didnât taste good anyway. Iâm doing you a favor.â
As she reaches out for another battle, you exhale roughly. âWhat ⊠What do you want from me?â
âWant? From you?â she repeats, swinging her next victim between her knuckles. Just waiting for one wrong move to let it slip and shatter. âYouâre already doing what I want you to.â
âWhich isâ?â
Shatter. âEntertaining me.â
She doesnât even pick up the bottles anymore. Sheâs just flicking them off the shelves.
âYou see what I mean?â she spins around and leans against the remaining shelf with alcohol still lining the higher echelons. Prodding at you as if youâve already proven her point. âThis is why Iâm having so much fun with you. You canât do anything to me, can you? Youâre not allowed to.â
âYou just manageâ.â
Your handâs already gripping her wrist. Pinning it to the corner ledge. She gasps. And for the first time since youâve met this lady, she flashes you a look youâve never seen before.
Fear.
âYou,â you pause, trying to control your breathing. Your eyes are scrambling for something to look at but theyâre stuck on her. Just her. âDo you know ⊠how much fucking money ⊠all of this ⊠is going to cost me?â
âH-Hey ⊠relax. If itâs really that muchâ?â
âDonât try to slither your way out of this one. I asked you a question. Answer.â
She trembles. You can feel it in her pulse. You can sense it as you tighten your grip. âI-I ⊠I donât. But I swear, I didnât thinkâ.â
âWhat? You didnât think it was âthis seriousâ? Thought you were still âplaying gamesâ with me?â you retorted, scoffing mid-sentence. âWhere the fuck have you been living all your life? Under a rock? Top shelf liquor is so fucking expensive to import. I bet recovering all of this is going to cost more than the clothes youâve been wearing here, or the fucking dingy ass pad you live in.â
âStop, I-I-I was justâ.â
âJust? Was just? Just having fun with me?â you fill in. âI run a fucking business here. And god forbid, you have been really bad for it. Just fucking terrible. This?â
You gesture to the liquor seeping into the cracks between cabinets and the counter. Mixed scents of shattered spirits wafting between the two of you.
âThis is the last straw. Iâmâ.â
âGoing to punish me?â
What was that? What the fuck was that?
There it goes again. The glint in her eye. The pull of her lips. That snarky tone of hers when she says, âGoing to write me off? Report me to the police? Call my parents or something?â
Itâs almost like sheâs nudging you. Pushing you past your bloody fucking limits.Â
Like sheâs challenging you.
Like sheâs enjoying it.
âGo on. What are you going to do with me? Squeeze an apology out of me? Fine me? Blacklist me?â she lists, shaking off your grip when she knows youâre stunned and crosses her arms. Just under her bust. Highlighting it. âGo ahead and try. I fucking dare you.â
âMake me.â
Thereâs at least seven different things you could have done in this moment. Each likely more effective than the last as you play them out in your head. But when youâre face to face with her like this, bodies inching closer to one another, you canât fucking take it anymore.
Itâs time to show her whoâs in charge.Â
Itâs time to show her her place.
âStrip.â
âWhat?â
âDonât make me say it again,â you press, stepping so close to her that your feet are now directly parallel to hers. âYouâre right. Maybe Iâm here as your âentertainmentâ. Then if so, let me âentertainâ you some more. Could bring you to the station down the street. Could make you call your lawyer or something. Could even just ban your sorry ass from SAXO myself. But thatâs no fun, is it?â
âStrip. Now.â
Her mouth is taut. But it quivers. And you catch that.
âYa ⊠Isnât this harassment, manager? I donât think youâd want a case against you and your little club now, would you?â she tries to bargain.Â
But you see through her chicanery and subterfuge. âAfter all youâve done, this is childâs play. Strip. Iâm not repeating myself again.â
Growling, she rolls her eyes and pushes you away. âFine. Pervert. But Iâm not doing it with you aroundâ.â
âOh, you will.â
You turn around only to remove yourself from the slimy pools of spilt liquor on the floor. Vaulting over the bar counter. Dusting your hands off. You face her again. Arms crossed. Eyebrow cocked. Waiting.
âAre you for real right now? Are you fucking serious?â
âI am. You love putting on shows, donât you? Then put on a show. Just for me,â you fired back. Smirking. âWhat? Youâre the one who said I kept âeye-fuckingâ you. Shouldnât you have expected this much from me? Strip.â
You see her knuckles go white. But you also see her mask crack.
Then you see her do as youâve told.
She whips her hair back. Of course she does. This little princess always has to have her hair fixed. The bangle earrings sheâs wearing doesnât make it any easier for her either. Digging her thumbs against her ribs, the same way she did on the night she got into the sound booth, slowly, she starts to peel upwards. You watch as the cloth of her patterned print top tantalizingly comes undone. And you get an unfiltered view of her compliance.
She hooks the hem of her top around the back of her neck, flashing the elastic band sheâs using for a bra. âThere. Happy?â
You shake your head. âI said strip.â
âYou said strip, and I did. This is the best youâre getting out of meâ.â
âHow much do you make in a day?â
âWhat? Iâm not some fucking hooker,â she chimes. And you appreciate the sass now. Because the raise of her voice makes the soft spots of her body ripple ever-so-slightly.
âNever said that. I just askedâhow much do you make in a day.â
âI donât work.â
You chuckle again. âThen youâve got no frame of reference for how much this all costs. How much is your top.â
âMy top?â
âYeah, how much is it.â
âI donât fucking know. Just bought it off an app. Around ten thousand won I guess?â
âA shot of that first bottle you broke costs six times that amount. A bottle can last about twenty shots. Each. Is the math computing?â
You see the exact moment the life drains from her eyes when the math, indeed, computes.
Whistling, you click your teeth to draw her attention back to you. âStrip. Before I start thinking stripping isnât enough.â
Sheâs moving. Sheâs stripping. But sheâs doing so in a way that feels different. As her top fully comes off, she doesnât throw it. She folds it on the countertop. Not minding your direct view from above her bra. She does the same for the tights, peeling them off like a second layer of skin, folding it on top of the former.
The fur belt around her waist remains for a while. Sheâs using it to cover her crotch. And you realize why.
Sheâs wet.
âDo ⊠do I have to also ⊠the underwear âŠ?â
âWhat part of âeverythingâ do you not understand?â you clarify mockingly. You know sheâs not getting away without undressing all the way. She knows it too. âIf you donât hurry up, my second might come back to check on me. Want him to see you like this too?â
She glowers. Even though itâs a lie. âFuck you.â
The panties come off first. Only because the beltâs in the way. It stretches against her ankles like a spiderweb when she tries to move away from the puddle sheâs standing on. You catch a glimpse of the inside. Itâs darker and more prominentâthe stain.
Leaning forward, she holds the counter for support before grunting to take off her panties fully now. Folds it beneath her previous layers.Â
âNow the bra.â
âI fucking know,â she grunts back. You know she doesnât need a reminder. But you let her know anyway.
Her bra isnât the usual. Not a hook type. Not a strap type. Not even a clip type. Itâs an elastic type. Just comes over the chest. Supports it naturally as gravity does its thing. Your knowledge of womenâs undergarments is proven almost immediately right as you watch in utter astonishment at the way her swell of a chest comes loose from her final piece of clothing.
The recoil into one another. The ripples. The gentle sag.
You hate to admit it. But itâs fucking perfect.
She forgets to put it aside. To fold it. She just tosses it to the counter because sheâs got her hand and arm across her bare tits now. You let her. Because this allows you to dip forward and tug on the long end of her belt.
âHey, whatâ?â
âWalk with me. Walk to me.â
You tug on her belt. Lead her like itâs a leash. And she follows. She resists a bit, and you feel it against the tightness of the garment. But you tug back and she winces. Then moves again. Until sheâs all the way out of the bar area and is now hovering next to you by one of the tables in the wings.
You clear the surface of the sturdy glass and gesture to it. âGet on.â
She doesnât question you. Not while sheâs naked. Not when you hold her dignity in her hands. In order to mount the table, she had to let go of her chest, and when she lays down, you finally get to see it.
Her full form. Naked. Unadorned. Natural. All of it for you to see.
All of it laid bare.
âGod, if you werenât such a fucking brat, youâd be perfect,â you whisper. You mean it.Â
Her smooth pale skin. The shape of her chest and the sheen of sweat across it. The quiver of her thick full lips. The spread of her legs. The clasp of her thighs against each other. The bare and kempt state of her nether bits.Â
Theyâre all right there. Laid out on the table. On full display.
Just for you.
âYeah? Wouldnât be the first time someoneâs told me that,â she replies. Halfway between a smirk and scorn. You then realize you had said it out loud. She chuckles. Gestures to you with a finger. A hither-to motion coupled with that stare of hers again. Those âmake meâ eyes. That âfuck meâ gaze. âGonna do something about it? Or is that against company policy again, manager?â
Oh sheâs asking for it now.
You loosen your tie. You kneel on the table. She looks frightened for a momentâworried the glass might break. But you prove her otherwise when you lean forward between her legs so your face is level with hers now. Hovering above it.
âIâll show you what a fucking tease like you deserves.â
You press your lips against her and feel no resistance. Instead, she welcomes you. Her own soft hydrated folds part for you. Nibble on you. Suck you in. Her tongue is a welcome mat that unfolds into a stretch of red carpet for your own tongue to gloss and strut all over. She whimpers and moans the moment she gets her own tongue caressed in velvet. But she doesnât complain. Doesnât react.
Doesnât resist.
Her hands come around your neck now as she pulls you further in, and you take this opportunity to get a little handsy yourself.Â
You go for her tits. God, how could you not go for her tits?Â
Youâre cupping them. Fondling them. You know better than to just squeeze them like a childâno. You lift them up. You caress down the inner curve of each, polishing down and along her cleavage. If you werenât kissing her right now, youâd have smothered your face between them. Sniffing them. But you save that for later. For now, you register the sensation of her in your head.
Hefty. Heavy. Fucking heavenly.
She gasps sharply when your right pinky hits her left nipple. You notice when you peek open an eye that sheâs hard. Both of them are. Both of her nipples. Theyâre stiff and rounded little peaks that tempt you to oblivion. So you succumb.
One pinch and she forgets how to kiss you. Another and sheâs gasping for air, breathless in your clutches. A third and sheâs arching her back upwards.
âFuuuuck,â she groans, her face getting flushed. âDo that again âŠâ
You press your pointer to her nipple. Thumb on the other side. Wind her up by rubbing them together. Before pinching on the supple tip and pulling it upwards. Polishing it. Relishing it. Treasuring it.
She shudders more intensely now. You do the same to the other side and sheâs willingly showing you the column of her neck as her body lifts from the table. âGod ⊠shit, youâre ⊠youâre actually good with theâAHHH!â
You lick her neck.Â
One stripe. Two. Slow. Tracing over the parts that make her quiver. Prolonging over the parts that make her moan. You lick upwards to her chin. Over her lips. And press a kiss on them before repeating the cycle.
Her eyes flutter open and close, unable to focus. Whenever your gazes meet, she doesnât turn away. She stares deeper into your soul. The facade from earlier having crumbled completely.
She reaches for your chest. However she can in this tightened position. She runs her hands across your pecs, down to your abdomen, where she then hitches her fingers into your waist and belt, and unbuckles it.
While youâre licking her nipples now. suckling on them, teasing them with the sharp of your tongue alternating with the long flat wall of it, you notice sheâs grinding against your thigh. Thereâs a noticeable dampness. A moisture. Permeating your supposedly waterproof slacks.
You chuckle and bite down on one nipple. And this makes her scream in absolute ecstasy.
One hand moves from your fly to the back of your head, gripping your hair, guiding you to where she wants you to kiss, suckle, and lick across her full fucking tits. The other unzips you. Hastily pushes your pants off. And tries to get you out of your clothes this time. When the back of her palm hits your bulge however, she freezes.
âWait ⊠waitâNGHHHâstop, I-I want to see this âŠâ
You withdraw from the addiction that are her breasts and wipe the slobber from your lips against the cup of your shoulder. âWhat?â
âYour dick. I ⊠I just want to see how it looks like, ok âŠ?â
You push up from the table, nearly slipping from how sweaty your palms have gotten, and right yourself so she can sit up against the edge and be leveled with your crotch. Taking a deep breath, she palms over your bulge thatâs on the verge of bursting against your boxers.
âOh. Oh wow, youâre âŠâ she stutters. Fails to find the right words. She looks up at you and blushes. Nothing like the incessant little prick sheâs been previously. Instead, she has this yearning look on her. Like she wants to know. Wants to see. Wants to feel.
So you let her.
You donât even move. You let her do it herself. Nails digging into your waist, prying your black underwear downwards until it slides off. You flick it off once itâs just around one heel, and you present this woman with the unadulterated direct view of your cock.
She doesnât speak.
Her face hovers closer and closer until her left cheek presses against your semi-erect shaft. âFuck ⊠youâre bigger than my face ⊠I-I ⊠I donât know if I can âŠâ
âYouâll work it out. Otherwise, Iâll make sure you manage to.â
She licks her lips and bites her tongue. âMmmh, yeah? Make me then.â
One palm on the top of her head. Another beneath her chin to angle it the right way. You press your swollen tip against the entrance to her mouth and groan. âThen fucking take it.â
You push open. Burst into the warmth. Get enveloped by the wet velvety walls past her little locked lips.
She whimpers from the first breaching. You take it slow. Knocking down an inch more. Then two. Then sheâs taking you halfway in. Then, youâre knocking against her uvula at the back of her throat.
Her neck stiffens rigidly against your persistent hand, but sheâs not strong enough to break free even if she tried. So you keep her there. All the way down. Lips forming a tight ring around your base as she gags and hlurks and spews her own saliva out from the small tears in her vacuum sealed mouth. You keep her there for god knows how long, taking pleasure in both the physical sensation of her mouth and the knowledge that youâre finally getting to see her use it for something other than provoking you.
Once her eyes redden beyond reason, you let go of her head, and in moments, she spits you out with a guttural groan as she could breathe properly again.
âNguh ⊠ha ⊠ha ⊠You fucking psycho ⊠Could haveâI could have choked to death on your fucking dick,â she spits out, smudging her hand across her chin. âBut ⊠ha ⊠that was good.â
âGood?â
She bites her lip and nods, gripping your cock now with a hand. âYeah ⊠fucking delicious. I want more.â
âThen suck it like a good little slut.â
Knees spread, bending at an angle now, she closes the gap and licks up from your base to your tip before suckling on the head. Just a few swirls with her tongue. Before she throats your cock herself.
No prompting. No input. No hesitation.
Her head and neck work in tandem to bob her salivating mouth back and forth along the length of your shaft. Lips cruising down your sensitive skin. Tongue flattening and caressing your underside. Whenever her lips meet her hand thatâs gripping what she canât reach, it makes this popping sound that you want to hear more and more.
Sheâs got no technique. She gags too easily. But fucking hellâthe raw and primal energy she exhibits is relentless. Itâs fucking intoxicating.
This womanâs moaning in between violent gags, and you notice it whenever her nipples bump into your thighs. You smirk. You push deeper into her, making her eyes go wide, hit the back of her throat, and force her to adjust while sucking you hard and fast still. But this time, her nipples graze your inner thigh each time and you see her eyes melt from their initial panic and hesitation.
When she pulls you out with a loud smacking sound, sheâs gasping, panting, eyes wet, lips swollen, but tongue licking up your precum on the tip oh-so-fucking-hungrily.
âYou taste so ⊠fucking ⊠good, mmm,â she murmurs, stroking your first few inches, thumb rolling over the head. âWho knew the uptight manager was packing so fucking much?â
âConsider yourself the exception and not the rule,â you barely get out in one full breath as her stroking is getting more intentional rather than lazy.
âLucky me then,â she mutters, blowing your tip a kiss. She licks up once. Then twice. Then circles around ridge of your head. Playing with it. Toying with you. Face disappearing beneath you as her eyes almost glow. âThis is all mineâ.â
The doors to the club open and you hear footsteps.
Time doesnât afford you the luxury to curse. Youâre both scrambling. For clothes. For refuge. Anything.
You only manage to put your pants back on. Not even to fix your underwear. Your beltâs not even buckled. When you see who it is walking into the open space of the club, he shoots you a weird look. âBoss?â
âAlready done? Thought youâd all be enjoying spending my money a bit more,â you reply, hands in your pockets to stop your slacks from falling down. âWhere are the others?â
âUm, home, boss. Itâs six in the morning.â
âRight, right.â
âBoss, you havenât been drinking again, have you?â
You gesture to yourself with a thumb jutting up from your waist. âMe? Why would I be?â
But Minho shakes his head, one hand smoothening the folds of his brown and white checkered tie that reminds you of brownies. âNothing. Just making sure. Did you manage to sort out the issue? With the lady?â
You nod. Thatâs all you can give him. Thatâs all you really want to give him. Because your dickâs being bent at such a bad fucking angle in your tight slacks that you want to just let it free again. It would rather be inside somewhere else too. âTold her off. She got scared easily when I talked to her alone. Said sheâll âbehaveâ moreâwhatever that means.â
âIs she still here?â
You freeze. Muscles behind your thighs tighten. âShe left just after you and our staff did.â
âThen why is her fur thing still there?â he asks, pointing to the peeking belt the woman left behind. If Minho hadnât pointed it out, you wouldnât have seen the terrible fucking hiding spot she chose. On all fours behind one of the tableâs walled legs. Buck naked.
As Minho approaches, you casually just pick up the belt with your left hand and tug on it. Even when it goes taut. She gasps and shakes her head nervously, but you continue as you stare down at her. âMust have left it. Iâll hand it back when she comes back. I know she will. Leave it to me.â
Those final four words are always enough for your second to stop in his tracks, just a few meters away from your table, and nod. âGot it. You should get some rest too, boss. If, you know, only if you can. I donât want to pressure you if it doesnâtâ.â
âThanks, Minho. I appreciate it.â
âAnd hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or share the workload from adminâ.â
âIâll keep that in mind. Go home, Minho. Iâll see you tonight.â
He nods and salutes you with three fingers. âSee you tonight, boss.â
Once youâre certain your secondâs walked out the door and is well beyond the entrance of SAXO, you pinch the bridge of your nose and feel the other end of the belt shifting between your knuckles.
âIs he always like that? Sounds like he sucks your dick more than I do.â
âHeâs enthusiastic. Heâs a godsend,â you tell her, helping her up to her feet. But you donât let her go. Not the belt. Not her waist. You pull her in until sheâs arching her stomach towards you. Dipping backwards. âAnd you? Iâm not done with you yet. Letâs head to my office.â
Her drool-covered mouth shifts into a smirk. âYeah? Make meâ.â
You crash your lips onto hers and she jumps into your arms. You lift her up by her thighs and support one arm around her lower back as you stumble across the wings of the club to get to the staff-only area.
Kicking the door open, you slip in before it can close. And you feel her tongue lapping at your lips and teeth as she grips your head firmly like she doesnât want you to leave. Oh boy, do you have no plans to leave her at all.
You hasten down the corridor. Shoulder bumping into the water dispenser. Then, you fish for your keys and unlock your office.
Once youâre both in, your elbow flies to the button and it locks with a click. She pulls away from you and presses her forehead against yours, caressing your cheek. âHmm, youâre sexy like this. Taking control. Not holding back.â
âYeah?â
âYeah,â she giggles lowly as you put her on your desk. Her ass is compressing against your laptop as she sits on it. She takes a moment to look around. At the only light hovering above you both. The two sofas on either side of the front of your desk. At the pictures, certificates, and permits on one wall. âNever done this before. Banging in the backrooms of a place.â
âWho said I was going to fuck you?â
She slaps your neck and points her chin at you. âReally? You worked me up like this just toâ.â
âShut the fuck up.â
Her sentence is choked off immediately when you rub two fingers against her clit. Her hand instinctively flies to your neck, holding you for support. You rub steadily in circles, occasionally swiveling over the hood, swiping back and forth over her sensitive little button. And which each motion, you watch her progressively soften her face up from a glower, to a whimper, to a moan.
âYeahâNGHH MHHHâyeah I think I-I like you like this best.â
âLike what?â
She inhales through her clenching teeth. Youâre still swiping down her clit with your thumb like youâre flitting through bills at the bar counter during closing time. âL-Like you ⊠hnghh ⊠like you know just what to do.â
âDo I?â
âI-I-I donât know. Iâll ⊠mmhâgive you a point for the kissing, butâ.â
She interrupts herself with a moan. The culprit? Your tongue.
âBut what?â you raise, licking once more from her entrance all the way to her hood. Her pussy tastes like it smells. Sweaty. Musky. Bit of tang.
Tastes like need.
You feel her fingers knit through your hair. âBut ⊠I nghh ⊠but I was the one doing most of the kissing âŠâ
Palms to her thighs, you keep her legs parted. Eyes up to see her reaction. Nose bumping into her button as a tease at first, but now youâre intentionally grinding the pad of it against her clit. Tongue swiping up and down her slit like a credit card that wonât register at the terminal. âGo on. Iâm sure Iâve got more points in there somewhere.â
Her fingers dig into your scalp. âIâd ⊠Iâd give you two points for all ⊠the fucking things ⊠mmm you did to my ⊠to my tits âŠâ
You kiss her clit. Suckle on it. Pin the hood between your flaps as you peel it back gently with the sharp of your tongue and swirl around her now-exposed button like itâs your favorite M&M. âI sense a but there.â
As you say that, you grip her ass now, finger jammed between her plush bottom and the edge of your laptop. âContinue or Iâll stop.â
âBut itâs not fair becauseâAHHHâbecause I-I ⊠Iâm always sensitive there anyway âŠâ
You figured. But you donât excuse her.
Your tongue flattens itself against her and does this perpetual motion that makes her feel like youâre never running out of tongue. Up and down. Side to side. Rotations in both clockwise and in reverse. You donât let up. You never let up. Not until you feel her dribbling that delicious nectar against your chin. Not until sheâs moaning up a storm from just your tongue alone. Not until sheâs yanking your fucking head lose.
You press your cheek to the side to catch your breath. Rest your tongue. âHow many points am I getting for this?â
She dunks your head back against her pussy. âShut u-up and just eat me ⊠please âŠâ
You smirk. Thatâs what you want to hear. You slow down your pace though. No longer giving her endless stimulation. No longer lapping her up like a hungry dog. You take your time. Build your pace. Get her closer and closer to that fucking point of no return. But donât send her off into the deep end.
âWhat am I doing? Tell me,â you say between medium-paced strokes. Like youâre enjoying a vanilla soft serve. Taking your time. But not letting the cream melt off. âLost your words? You were so full of themâ.â
âYouâre teasing me,â she pushes, groaning with her back arching up. âPlease ⊠fuck ⊠please âŠâ
âPlease what?â
âPlease ⊠eat my fucking pussy out like you own it!â
Thatâs all you need.
You slide your wide palms up from her butt, down her thighs, until theyâre behind her knees, pinning both of them next to her face, folding her in half. Her back arches. Just the perfect height for you to lean forward and eat her the fuck out.
âOHHHH FUCK YES! Shit ⊠shit ⊠too muchâTOO MUCH!â
But you donât stop.
Your tongue hones in on her clit. Spreading around your saliva and her juices like a butter knife against smooth toast. Sheâs trembling, then shuddering, then palpitating. And thatâs your queue to keep it steady. You lap at her like youâve been starving for days. Even when your tongue numbs. Even when your jaw slacks. Even when your mouth is now full of her fucking scent and flavor.
You. Donât. Stop.
âFuckâCUMMING!â
Sheâs a squirter. Sheâs a goddamn fucking squirter.Â
When she erupts she glazes your face with a warm spray. It lasts for more than ten seconds. Not stopping until the mess sheâs made is dripping down onto your long-sleeves. She canât breathe. Sheâs forgotten how to. So you decide to not be a dick and let her have a moment to herself first.
And the moment sheâs regained her senses, she looks up at you and sits up. âThat ⊠ha ⊠ha ⊠felt amazing. You were amazing.â
But you hold your hand out against her thigh and push her back into that folded ball, knees to her head, ass up in the air.
âWhatâ?â
âHold it. Hold yourself like that for me.â
Reddened at the face, she nods and tucks her hands beneath her knees to hold herself in positionâin offeringâfor you.
Now that? That is a picture-perfect moment.
You press your thumbs to the highest button. By your neck. You pop it open. You do the same for the second. Pop it open. You have about eight of these. And you take your time with each one. Because you know sheâs watching you. Waiting for you. Wishing she could be the one to just rip your polo from you and finally see your bare body. You know that much. You know it because while her mouth may lie, her eyes? They donât.
Her eyes never lie.
Once youâre finally pulling your arms through your sleeves and dropping the polo on the floor, she groans when she sees whatâs underneath. âAre you kidding me? That must be fucking hot in there. You wear that every night?â
You donât answer. You pull your undershirt off. Shove your slacks down with your boxers. And step forward. Pressing your hands next to her knees, which are next to her face. You lean in and grin. âManagerâs choice.â
You slap your cock against her pussy like you would her lips, and she responds with a tremble. Her pussy has a life of its own. Itâs throbbing. Pulsating. Even after an orgasm. Such a fucking greedy little hole on an insatiable little brat. But no matter. Youâll feed her soon enough.
You grind into her. Rub your length against her folds. Poke your tip into her receding belly button. Make her feel the heat between her legs. Giving her the appetizer.Â
Her eyes flicker with the fire of someone who just canât fucking wait to burn. But you donât move. Not much. Not anything beyond some grinding and dry humping. If you can even still call it âdryâ at that point. Considering your underside is being conveniently lubricated with each caress of her pussy.
âAre you going to fuck me or just stare me to sleep?â she spits. You have to admire her spunk despite how sheâs folded on your desk like this. âMaybe I should call your little errand boy to do me instead. Maybe he wonât waste my timeâ.â
âBeg.â
She falls silent. Like you pushed the right button.Â
âNo.â
You slap your shaft against her pussy and wake her up. Like you slapped her across the face too. âBeg. Or I can just walk out of here, head to a strip club, and fuck one of the girls there instead.â
âLike hell you could. They donât allow that.â
âI could. I know people.â
She bites her lip. âFuck you. Iâm not going to beg. You either fuck me or you donât.â
You pull away. Motioning just the slightest bit for your undershirt. But immediately, you feel a grip against your arm.
âIf you put that fucking undershirt back on, I will never forgive you.â
You chuckle. âYeah?â
She spreads her legs. Wider. Lifts her butt. Higher. Makes it so her body is parted not just in invitation, but also so you can see her face clean down the middle. Past her tits. Resting against the fan of hair draped behind her like a veil.
âPlease. Fuck me. Or whateverâ.â
You push your dick in.
The enlarged tip meets some resistance already, noted by the pitch of her moan. Thereâs a ring. A tight fucking ring at the entrance. And for a heartbeat youâre afraid you might rip something. But just like her attitude, her body learns to cave in to you.
Youâre in now. Not just the tip that flares at the base of her. Not just the first few inches that part the tight clenching walls of hers. But all the way in.
Youâre pressed in so deep that thereâs nowhere else to go. And your cock isnât even fully inside her.
Her eyes widen. Whites glowing as her pupils dilate. âShit. Fuck. Y-Youâre stretching me ⊠T-T-Take it slowâpleaseâAHHH!â
You donât take it slow.
Pressing her hands firmer against the back of her own knees, using that grip to slide her closer to you. You pull out and then ram your cock deep inside her. Once. Twice. Repeatedly. Faster. Gaining pace. Gaining momentum. Knocking on her womb with everything youâve fucking got.
And she is just a mess.
âIs this what you fucking imagined when you were messing with me? Is this what you fucking wanted when you were acting like a little brat every night? Answer me,â you demand, pressing into her thighs now, gripping them, pounding incessantly. You havenât had sex in god knows how long. It only felt right to dissolve completely into the temptation of her. âWhat? Lost your words?â
Her eyes canât focus on any one thing, drifting here and there. Mouth agape. Tongue firmly planted between her lips. Sheâs moaning with each of your thrusts. So you fuck into her faster to hear it. To hear more. Youâre immediately rewarded by the change in pitch, the change in frequency, and the added percussive of her tits slapping together.
Sweat dripping down your face and neck, you grip her ass from the side and slap it. Watching the pink blossom. Feeling her skin heat up. You spank her again. And again. And again. Until she finally screams her reply.
âYES! Fuck ⊠fuck ⊠FUCKâYES! Pound me like this. Keep fucking going. NGHHH youâre going to fucking ruin me!â
âYeah? Then get fucking ruined.â
You press your thumb to her clit and start rubbing it fast. No direction. No patter. Just fast flicks and rotations.
âFUCK! YOUâREâ.â
Smack. Smack. Smack. Your hips meet the swell of her ass as sheâs bouncing on your dick. Matching your pace. Meeting each upward thrust of yours with a downwards stroke of hers.
You pull her ass off the edge just to knock her knees into your desk. Her eyes are glazed over. Pure fucking bliss. Youâre working double time with your heels and your waist to deliver blow after blow deep into her pussy. Sheâs clenching. Squeezing you. Craving your fucking release. But you donât stop. You donât give her that luxury. Not yet.
âWhoâs fucking your little pussy right now?â
âMMMH ⊠wh-whatâ?â
âAnswer me! Whoâs fucking ruining your little pussy right now?â you grunt, fucking the daylights into her while fiddling with her clit.
âY-You ⊠AHH!â
âYeah? And whoâs going to make you cum? Answer me.â
Thereâs less hesitation this time. She spits it out, âYou! Fuck âŠ.fuck I-I-I canâtâ.â
âAnd who fucking owns you? Tell me. Say it. Moan it. Fucking scream itâ.â
âYOU FUCKING OWN MY PUSSY, MANAGER!â
That was it.
You smudge your thumb against her button, really grind into it. You force whatever remaining strength you have left to thrust specifically upwards into the soft spongy spot that kept making her lose her breath. And you lean in to kiss her. Passionately. Sloppily. Possessively.
Claiming her. As you claim her squirting orgasm all over your cock.
She canât even moan. Just whimpering into your kiss as she lets go of her shaking legs. You grab her ankles and feel her feet tensing into a point. But she slaps your arms and pulls them closer to her, tugging on them like reigns so she can feel your full erect length stretching her pussy down to the final spasm of her release.
One arm behind her back, holding her close. The other lifting her leg up so her kneeâs hooked over your shoulder. One hand gripping her waist. The other palming her clit. You send her into a state of borderline catatonia as she moans and groans and scrambles to try and break free as you overstimulate her senses. But you donât stop. You chase after your own release while inside her clenching and spasming death-grip of a pussy.
âGoing to fuckingâ.â
âGIVE IT TO ME! GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING LOAD!â
You burst.
Your whole bodyâs tensed. Did you know that? You didnât up until you allowed yourself to let go. To let it all loose. The first shot burns your tip with how rapid it fired out. With how tight sheâs clamping around you. The next few shots spread pleasure all over your stomach, racing up your spine, and then finally scattering across the back of your head. The last few shots send your mind into a daze as your first orgasm in arguably months finally escapes you. Finally finds its place. Finally fills her the fuck up so bountifully.
Unsheathing yourself from her warm, sweating, and pulsating orifice, you let your cock droop against your thigh. Semi-erect still. Sensitive to the cool air of your office. Dripping an ounce or two of leftover cum.
And sheâs there. On your desk. Unmoving. Naked, heaving mass. Sweaty all over. Arms flayed out to the side. Chest rising and falling unsteadily. Nipples perking from the cool. Ass hanging off the edge. One knee pointed upwards. The other outstretched with her leg to keep her steady.
There she is. Cum dripping out of her like a mark. Like a signature.
There she fucking is. No masks. No games. No resistance.
Completely laid bare.
---
The door to your office bursts open. But youâre not flinching this time. Youâre focusing on transferring your hand-written computations from the pile of papers next to you. Digitalizing them.
âWhatâs the matter this time, Minho? We havenât even opened yet.â
âSorry for not knocking boss, but itâs Hajoon. He ⊠letâs just say he âpre-gamedâ a little too hard and is um, throwing up all over Table Thirty-Oneâ.â
âWell, clean it up. Do I have to be the one to deal with every single mess?â
Minhoâs eyes lower to his polished shoes. âI ⊠Youâre right. Iâll handle this myself.â
He pauses. Looks at you now. You know this despite being deep in your sheets. You can see him from your peripheral. âAnd?â
âBoss, are you ⊠eating something?â
You shrug. âHavenât had a meal all day. Havenât caught any shuteye either. All the damages. All the losses. Marking them all down first.â
âWant me to grab some food then before we open? What are you craving?â he asks with a smile. And you can sense that heâs quite hungry too.
âThink that American place a few streets downâs still open? I could go for a sloppy joe right about now.â
He snaps and winks at you. âYou got it boss. Iâll be on myâhuh. Thereâs that sound again.â
âMust be a leak in the vents. Iâll call plumbing later.â
Minho grins and nods. âAlways one step ahead, arenât you, boss?â
You nod in reply and return to your sheets. Thereâs a brief pause. Then, Minhoâs finally disappeared behind your closing door.
In moments, her head resurfaces from underneath your desk. Face sweaty, half dripping with cum half drying in it, thick lips pursing and bubbling over the tip of your cock.
âYou like it sloppy, donât you? Mmmmh,â she teases while wiping your thick shaft against her softer features. âWho could have guessed?â
You reach down to lift her chin and say, âIf youâre going to pay off your debt, you might as well get back to it. Weâre opening in two hours. So unless you want my staff to wonder why one of our clubgoers is walking around ruined like a cheap little whore, I suggest you make it worth my while.â
Giggling with that same teasing energy of hers, but just converted into something else now, she nods and kisses your tip again.