starlit vacuum

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” You mutter through gritted teeth, she looks up with your cock half way in her mouth with an inquisitive look that requests further explanation. “You’ve shown very little interest in me outside of the occasional project and now you are blowing me, strange really.”

She frees her mouth, letting the thick globs of built up spit fall down onto your tip before stroking it across your length. “Well, you’re hot– never gave me much of a reason to talk to you though.” She says it like that explains this sudden jump.

Alas, she takes you deeper, sucks harder and stares at you like a piece of meat. “Isn’t this a terrible idea? You don’t have tinted windows, we are in the parking lot of the place we work. If the boss sees.”

The scowl is sharp.

“Are you going to let me suck this dick or are you going to keep whining and worry?” She’s visibly annoyed, “Or do I need to fuck the complaining out of you? We’ve got half an hour left, you are either cumming in my mouth or in my cunt. Though I’d make your choice quickly.”

You stare at her, mouth dry.

“How can someone who speaks so boldly to your superiors crumble the minute you have a girl waiting?” She mocks, still stroking you the look in her eyes. You are helplessly leaking pre-cum, completely at her whims and you can’t make the decision.

Gowon luckily is more than willing to.

“Get in the back of the fucking car, now.” You scramble, she gets on top after one more sample of your taste. Her pussy’s so pretty, wet and rubbing nicely against the side of your cock.

She sinks down and the first thing you think is trying not to bust, hold it as she wastes no time getting to work. Normally she hates working through her lunchbreak, this must be the exception. “Fuck, okay.” Gowon’s clothed tits are so close to your face, this angle has practically folded you into a lawn chair.

Instead of saying anything you lay there and take it, every thrust into her tight warmth. It’s heaven that melts away the worries in your mind, the only things left is the urge for her to get off and for you to get off. “You are so fucking deep, gosh.”

There’s room to contribute to this duo project.

So you join, thrust up into her– hit all the right spots as she slams down. The breathy moans are hopefully contained inside this car, though anyone could see Gowon’s bare ass and her getting railed. Though if you get caught and fired they’ll be understaffed and all hell will break lose.

This is all a worthwhile gambit.

“Okay, okay fuck, fuck, harder, faster, whatever!”

Gowon’s body seizes, comes with a moan dying in her throat. Getting tighter, sucking you up and trying to milk every last drop out of your balls. Though you don’t finish in her, sliding out as she looks confused. Yanking her head down and fucking her mouth, following through on what she wanted earlier. If you are her lunch she deserves to be fed, flooding her mouth with your load while you moan the loudest you’ve ever moaned.

She recovers first, slipping her attire back on and straightening her now completely ruined hair. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“Maybe be a bit more assertive and you can see how truly good I can be.” She winks, looking around. Nobody was around, thankfully. “I need to go clean up before lunch ends, so do you.”

“Indeed.”

You have your pants back on just about when Gowon opens her car door, if the intense smell of sex wasn’t lingering nobody would ever know what you two just had. No time to shower though, “See you at work, maybe we can go for a smoke break later.”

That fucking wink, again, straight to the throat.

“We’ll see.”

Aphrodite incarnate. A goddess coming to Earth. Chou Tzuyu is wearing a cream sweater that's stretched tight across her tits, and yoga pants that should be illegal. Her hair is up in a loose ponytail, with a few strands framing her gorgeous face. And she has the most sweet, most motherly smile on her face.

Anyone who hasn't seen her with lips stretched around a cock would fall for that image in a heart beat.

You, of course, know better.

"Oh you're here!" She gushes the cookie-cutter host greeting. "The girls are so excited—Diana! Hanna! Your friend is here!"

From deeper in the house you hear a faint "Mrow!"

Your sister visibly cringes. Even poor Tzuyu's bright smile falters slightly before she recovers.

"They're… going through a phase," Tzuyu explains weakly, stepping aside. Your sister sulks past like she's heading to her own execution, shooting you a venomous glare as she goes.

The second she's out of sight, Tzuyu's hand brushes yours.

"Coffee?" She asks, entirely too loudly for the empty hallway you're standing in, but her eyes are screaming a very different request. Something close to I need you to fuck me until I forget my own name.

"Yeah. Coffee sounds great."

"Perfect." The way she draws the word out, followed by her dragging her tongue across her lips, should damn well be considered foreplay.

From what you assume is the playroom, your sister's defeated sigh carries over to where you're standing, followed by synchronized meowing.

You purse your lips to contain your laughter as Tzuyu turns to the wall, tapping her forehead against it softly.

"Not. A fucking. Word." She murmurs.

You make a zipping motion across your mouth.

Tzuyu leads you to the kitchen. Those yoga pants hug the curve of her ass, outlining the thick thighs you've had the pleasure of being trapped between more times than you can count.

You're already plotting all the possible ways to get between them again today.

She pours two cups of coffee that you both know neither of you will touch. Her husband is at work as usual. The man is practically married to his job, which means Tzuyu is perpetually horny.

Not that you're complaining, of course.

"So," she starts, leaning against the counter in a way that makes her tits press together, "I was thinking—"

"Bedroom?"

Fuck the small talk. You both know why you're here, why bother with the bullshit game of cat and mouse?

Her expression changes instantly, that sweet, motherly mask cracking.

"Eager today, are we?"

"You sent me that photo during my lecture." You move toward her. "I've been hard thinking about those thick fucking thighs of yours the entire way over here."

She bites her lip, grabbing your shirt and pulling you close. "My bedroom. Now."

No need to say that twice.

"So impatient," you tease, but in no way shape or form are you complaining as she takes your hand and leads you out of the kitchen.

The stairs feel endless. Tzuyu keeps glancing back at you, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth, and you're becoming very tempted to say fuck it and rail her against the wall halfway up.

But the bedroom is probably smarter. And it has plenty of pillows for you to press her face into, which is a great bonus.

The second you're through the door, she's on you. Mouth crashing into yours, her hands pulling at your clothes, backing you towards the bed. You let her push you down onto the mattress, watching her stand over you, chest heaving.

Damn she's beautiful.

She climbs onto the bed, straddles your hips, grinds down against the bulge in your jeans. "You have no idea how badly I need this."

"Why don't you show me then?"

She doesn't bother answering with words.

Her hands find the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You do your best to help, shrugging out of it. The second it's off she runs her hands down your chest, nails dragging lightly over your skin.

You reach for her sweater but she swats your hands away. "Patience."

"That's not my strong suit and you know it." You pout.

"I know." She grinds down harder, and you can feel the heat spreading through both layers of fabric. "That's why this is fun."

She leans down, mouth finding your neck. Kisses turn into bites, her teeth scraping against your skin. Your hands busy themselves by gripping her hips, fingers digging into the yoga pants.

"God I missed you," she murmurs against your throat. "Missed this."

"It's only been like three days."

"Exactly, three days too long." Her hands move to your jeans, popping the button. "I've been going crazy waiting."

The zipper comes down and she's working your jeans off, and you lift your hips to help. Once they're gone she sits back, taking in the sight of you in only your boxers, your cock straining against the fabric.

"Look at you," she purrs, palming you through the thin material as you hiss. "So hard already."

"Your fault," you manage.

"I know." The smirk on her face grows. "I'm very good at what I do."

She is. Too good, sometimes. You watch her lean down, hair falling around her face, and just before her mouth reaches your cock—

"Meow," you say.

She freezes.

Sits back up slowly.

The look on her face is full of murderous intent.

"What," she starts, voice barely a whisper, "did you just say?"

"I—" you start, but you're already laughing because the look on her face is just priceless. "I couldn't help it, the girls—"

"You think that's funny huh?"

Before you can react, she moves. Her hands shove against your chest, and she uses her weight to pin you down as those deadly thighs slide up on either side of your head.

Ah fuck.

"Oh, Tzu wait—"

Too late. They're locked around your skull.

The pressure is both immediate and immaculate. Warm, smooth skin pressing against your head, cutting off everything except the sight of her yoga pants stretched tight across her pussy right in front of your face. It's easy to see the damp spot forming.

Your hands fly to her thighs on instinct, gripping the firm muscle underneath.

"Think you're funny?" She squeezes harder. Stars dance at the edges of your vision. "Meowing at me in my own bedroom?"

You try to respond but what comes out is muffled against her skin.

"That's what I thought." She grinds forward, dragging the warm, damp fabric across your face, and you groan into her.

She's appears to be trying to suffocate you. Not that your dick has any complaints.

"Nothing to say now?" Another squeeze. Your vision starts going fuzzy. "No more stupid jokes?"

Your fingers dig into her thighs and you manage to turn your head just enough to press your mouth against her inner thigh.

She shudders and the grip loosens ever so slightly.

You drag your tongue along the inside of her thigh, and she makes a choked sound that manages to make your already rock-hard cock even harder.

"You're such a brat," she breathes, but there's no real anger anymore.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of those damn yoga pants and pull. She lifts her hips just enough to let you drag them down along with her panties, and finally, FINALLY, that pretty pussy is revealed to your gaze.

Beautiful.

Her pussy is bare, inches away from your face. It's glistening and swollen, her clit already peeking out.

"You going to suffocate me before I can eat this pussy?" Your voice comes out rough.

"Afterwards," she decides, lowering herself back onto your mouth.

The first taste of her makes you groan into her pussy. She's absolutely soaked, and you waste no time before getting to work, licking broad strokes through her folds before placing special focus on her clit.

Her thighs tighten around your head.

"Fuck—right there—"

You circle her clit with your tongue, then suck it between your lips. Her whole body jerks violently above you,

"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop—"

Yeah. Like you had any fucking intention of doing that.

You double down, sucking her clit even harder, your tongue working in tight circles. You can barely breathe with her thighs clamping your head like a vice, but god the way she's gasping above you makes it all worthwhile.

"Fuck, fuck, just like that—" Her hips start rolling, grinding her pussy against your mouth. She's chasing her orgasm, using you, and your cock is throbbing so fucking hard in your boxers its borderline painful.

You slide your tongue down, pushing it into her entrance. Her soaked pussy drips down your chin, the sweet taste of it making you drool. Your hands grip her ass harder, kneading as you pull her down onto your face.

"Oh god, oh fuck—" Her voice pitches higher. She's close, you can feel it. Her thighs shake, her pussy clenching around your tongue.

You pull back just enough to suck her clit between your lips again, and that does it.

Tzuyu cums with a loud cry, her whole body going rigid above you. Her thighs lock around your head so tight you can see the pearly gates, and her pussy pulses against your mouth dragging you straight back down into hell. You keep licking, keep sucking, drawing out her orgasm as long as you can while she shakes and gasps.

"Stop, stop, too much—" She's trying to lift her hips but you won't let her go that easily. You give her clit one more slow lick and she shudders, a choked whimper escaping her throat.

Finally she manages to pull away, swinging her leg over your head. She collapses beside you on the bed, her face flushed.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your entire lower face is covered in her.

"You're evil," she pants, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"You literally tried to suffocate me like 2 minutes ago, babe."

"You meowed at me."

"Fair."

She turns to look at you, and even post orgasm with her makeup ruined and her hair fucked up beyond all recognition, she's unfairly beautiful. Then her eyes slowly travel down your body to the tent in your boxers.

"Mm," she says, breathlessly, "That looks uncomfortable ."

"Yeah, no shit."

Her hand reaches over, palming you through the fabric. You hiss at the contact. "Aw, poor baby. You want me to do something about that?"

"I think you know damn well what I'm going to say to that."

She smirks, energy already back. Her stamina is fucking insane. "I don't know, maybe I should just leave you like this. Payback for the meowing. And you look so cute all desperate and worked up for me."

"Tzuyu—"

"I'm kidding." She sits up, grabbing the hem of her sweater. "Besides, I need you to fuck me. Right fucking now."

She pulls the sweater over her head and chucks it somewhere behind her.

No bra.

Of course there's no bra.

Her tits are perfect, full and perky in a way that seems to defy the very laws of physics.

You're staring. You know you're staring. She knows you're staring.

"See something you like?" She shimmies a little, a cocky little smirk on her face.

You consciously pick your jaw up off the floor before responding. "You know I do."

She leans down, kissing you hard. She can absolutely taste herself on your tongue, but she doesn't seem to give a singular fuck, licking into your mouth like she's trying to scrape every last drop out. When she pulls back you're both breathing hard.

Her hands go to your boxers, yanking them down. Your cock springs free and she wraps her hand around it, stroking slowly.

"God, you're so hard." She squeezes and you groan. "All for me?"

"Who else would it be for? Your husband?"

She smacks your chest. "Don't talk about my husband while I'm holding your dick."

"You brought him up last week when—"

"That was different." She cuts you off with another stroke, thumb swiping over the head of your cock. She spreads the leaking precum around, using it as lube.

"How was that different?" You grunt.

"Because I was winning that argument."

"You're always winning arguments when you have your hand on my cock. It's basically cheating."

"Pretty smart strategy though, isn't it?" She strokes you again, slow and torturous. "Keeps you from saying stupid shit."

"No I'm pretty sure I can still say some stupid sh—" Your thoughts scatter when she squeezes again. "Fuck, Tzuyu."

"That's what I thought, baby."

She lets go of your cock and you have to choke back a frankly embarrassing whine, but then she's moving. Swinging her leg over your hips, straddling you again. Her bare pussy presses against your shaft, the heat making you throb.

"I," She grinds down, sliding her wet pussy along your length, "Am going to ride you until you can't remember your own fucking name. Sound good?"

"Sounds fucking perfect."

She lifts her hips, reaching down to line you up. The head of your cock presses against her entrance. She's so wet you could slide in with ease, but she takes her time, lowering herself inch by torturous inch.

She's so, so fucking tight. It doesn't matter how many times you fuck her, it always feels like the first. Her pussy grips your cock like it was made for it, lips clinging to it like it's trying to suck you inwards.

"Fuck," she breathes, sinking down until you're buried completely inside her. She sits there for a moment, hands braced on your chest. "You feel so good."

"This is great. You do all the work and I just get to enjoy."

"Not for long." She rolls her hips, grinding on your cock, and you both groan. "Just let me enjoy this for a second."

"Take your time. I've got an amazing view."

And you do. Her tits right in front of your face, abs flexing as she shifts, those thick thighs spread on either side of you. Your hands find those thighs, gripping the firm muscle.

"Obsessed," she teases.

"Yeah, like any warm-blooded male wouldn't be."

She lifts up slowly, almost, almost letting the head slip out, then slams back down. You both moan at the sensation.

"Fuck, Tzuyu—"

"What's wrong baby?" She lifts up again, slow as can be, then drops back down hard. The slap of skin echoes through the bedroom. "Can't handle me?"

"I can handle plenty. You're just—fuck—."

She does it again, rising up until just the tip of your cock is inside her, then slamming down. Her tits bounce with the impact and you can't help but stare, mesmerized.

"Just what?" She teases breathlessly.

"Being a fucking tease."

"Oh, baby," she leans down nipping at your ear, "you haven't seen half of it."

Then she really starts moving.

Her hips roll in a steady pattern, rising and falling on your cock. Every time she drops down, you can feel her pussy clench around you. The sounds filling the room are obscene. The slick noise of her pussy taking your cock over and over, her moans, your groans.

Your hands move from her thighs to her hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. You help guide her movements, pulling her down a little harder each time.

"Yes, yes just like that—" Her nails scratch into your chest. It stings like hell but you frankly don't give a shit. "Your cock feels so fucking good."

"You're so tight," you manage. Coherent thought is becoming difficult. "So fucking wet for me."

"Always—oh fuck—always wet for you."

She's riding you faster now, chasing her own pleasure. Sweat forms on her skin, a drop rolling down between her breasts. You want nothing more than to lick it off but she's moving too fast for you to reach.

The bed is creaking under you. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remember the girls are downstairs but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when Tzuyu looks like this, head thrown back, mouth open, riding your cock like her life depends on it.

"Touch me," she gasps. "Play with my tits."

You don't need to be told twice. Your hands leave her hips to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. She moans, loud and shameless.

"Harder."

You pinch her nipples and she clenches around your cock so tight you nearly cum right there.

"Fuck, do that again—"

You oblige, rolling the stiff peaks between your fingers. Her pussy floods with wetness, dripping down your cock to your balls warm and slick.

"I'm close," she whimpers. Her rhythm is getting sloppy, desperate. "So fucking close—"

"Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes, yes, fuck yes—"

You thrust up to meet her, matching her pace, the angle making her cry out.

"Right there, oh god right there—"

You do it again, driving up into her. Her whole body shudders.

"Don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"

Like you could stop now even if you wanted to. You're getting close too, that familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. But you want her to cum first. Want to feel her pussy spasm and clench around you.

You sit up suddenly, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady. The position change makes her gasp. You can get deeper like this, and it finally allows you to capture one of those perfect nipples in your mouth.

"Oh fuck—" Her hands tangle in your hair, holding you against her chest. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna—"

You suck hard on her nipple and thrust up at the same time.

She cums with a scream, her pussy clamping down on your cock. You can feel her pulsing, gushing wetness soaking you both.

You slow your movements, letting her ride it out. Her forehead drops to your shoulder.

"Holy shit," she pants against your neck.

You're still rock hard inside her. Throbbing.

She notices with visible interest, clenching around you once to hear you grunt.

"Your turn," she breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy lidded eyes.

You flip her.

One moment she's on top of you, the next she's on her back with you between her legs. She lets out a surprised laugh.

"Someone's eager."

"You got to cum. My turn."

You hook her legs over your shoulders, pushing them back toward her chest. The position makes her gasp, spreads her wide open for you. Those thighs press against your face and shoulders, warm and soft and absolutely perfect.

"Fuck, I love these thighs," you mutter, turning your head to kiss the inside of one.

"I'm aware." She's still breathless. "You never shut up about them."

"Can you blame me?"

You don't wait for an answer. You thrust into her, burying yourself deep. She's so wet from her orgasm that you slide in easily, and the sound she makes goes directly to your cock.

"Oh fuck—"

You set a hard pace immediately. Fucking her into the mattress while her thighs frame your head like a goddamn work of art.

"Yes, yes, harder—" Her hands grip the sheets. "Fuck me harder—"

You oblige. Each thrust makes her tits bounce, makes the bed creak louder. She's so tight around you it's almost painful, her pussy still sensitive from cumming.

"You feel so fucking good," you grunt, squeezing her thighs. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh.

"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop—"

You can feel your orgasm building. That pressure at the base of your spine getting harder and harder to push off. You're close. Too close.

You slow down.

"What—no, why are you—" Tzuyu looks up at you with desperation in her eyes.

"Just pacing myself." You roll your hips slowly, grinding deep instead of thrusting.

"I was getting close again," she whines.

"I know."

"You're such an asshole."

"You love it."

She does. You can tell by the way she's clenching around you, by that pout on her lips.

You pick up the pace again, just enough to make her moan. Your hands slide along her thighs, feeling the muscle flex as she tries to pull you deeper.

"Please," she gasps. "I need—fuck—I need you to fuck me properly."

"This isn't proper?"

"You know what I mean—"

You thrust hard, once, and she nearly sobs.

"Like that?"

"Yes! Just like that, please—"

You do it again. Then stop. Her pussy clenches around you in frustration.

"I hate you," she pants.

"No you don't."

"I'm going to kill you."

"With these thighs, I hope." You kiss her inner thigh again, scraping your teeth against the skin. She shudders.

"You're obsessed."

"Yep."

You start moving again, finding a rhythm that's just enough to keep you both on edge. Not enough to push either of you over. Her legs are shaking around your head, her pussy dripping down onto the sheets.

"Please," Tzuyu begs. The sound of her begging does something to you. "Please, I'm so close—"

"Not yet."

"I'm going to fucking—"

You thrust deep and grind against her, cutting off whatever threat she was about to make. She just moans instead, nails scratching desperately at your arms.

You're playing with fire. You know if you keep this up much longer you won't be able to hold back.

"I need to cum," you grunt. "Fuck, Tzuyu, I need to cum."

"Then cum." She pulls you down, her legs unwrapping from your shoulders to lock around your waist instead. "Cum inside me. Fill me up."

You drop down, bracing yourself on your forearms on either side of her head. You slide deeper.

"I'm close too," she whimpers. "So fucking close."

You kiss her hard. Your hips move on autopilot now, chasing the release you've been craving. The wet slap of your bodies fills the room, mixing with her moans and your grunts.

"Together," she gasps against your mouth. "Cum with me, please—"

Her pussy tightens around you. You can feel her getting close, that little flutter.

"Fuck, Tzuyu—"

"I'm gonna—oh god I'm gonna—"

It hits you both at the same time. You groan as your cock pulses inside her, pumping her full of cum, and you can feel her pussy clenching and spasming around you, milking every drop.

And because you're apparently an idiot with approximately zero self preservation—

"Meow," you moan into her ear.

For a second she's too lost in her orgasm to process it. Her body is still shaking, pussy still pulsing around your cock. You're both riding out the aftershocks, your cum leaking out around your cock because there's just too much.

Then she goes very, very still.

You're still buried inside her. Still trying to catch your breath. Your brain is fuzzy from the orgasm, a dopey smile plastered on your face.

Tzuyu's hands grip your shoulders. Tight.

She slowly, deliberately, pushes you off of her. You slip out with a wet sound, cum immediately spilling out of her onto the sheets. She sits up, and the look on her face makes your survival instincts finally kick in.

"Did you—" Her voice is dangerously quiet. "Did you just fucking meow while you were cumming inside me?"

Oh you're in trouble.

"I—"

"Did you?"

Your brain scrambles for something, anything that might save you.

"...meow?" you offer weakly.

Her eye twitches.

"You're dead."

"Wait—"

Too late. She's on you in a second, tackling you back onto the bed. Those deadly thighs wrap around your head again and this time there's no mercy. She's actually trying to kill you.

"You think you're funny?" She squeezes. Hard. "You think that's fucking funny?"

You try to answer but your face is pressed directly against her cum-filled pussy, your own load dripping onto your face. You're suffocating in the mess you made and honestly? You can't even complain.

"Meowing." Squeeze. "While cumming." Squeeze. "Inside me."

Your hands tap frantically against her thighs but she ignores it.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

She loosens just enough for you to gasp out, "Worth it?"

That is, apparently, the wrong answer.

The thighs clamp back down with a vengeance. You're genuinely seeing the light now. Your vision is going dark at the edges.

But god, what a way to go.

Just when you think you might actually pass out, she releases you. You gasp for air, coughing.

Tzuyu looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. Your face is covered in cum, hers and yours mixed together. You probably look absolutely destroyed.

"You're lucky you're cute," she says.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Absolutely not." She climbs off you, stretching. "But I'll let you live. For now."

"Shame. Death by thighs is actually a bucket list item of mine."

"Can you go 20 fucking seconds without saying something stupid or mentioning my thighs?"

"…no."

~~~

Hi all! If you haven't already heard, most of the writers on this platform have switched to FanProse. I'm a lot more active on there for sure! But, to be fair, I also took a bit of a break from writing to deal with some life shit. I'm trying to ease back into this, but I have two commissions and a new series to work on, so hopefully it won't be another two months this time!!

Thank you all for reading :)

Fuck you’re so tight. You whisper to your monthly budget after spending three thousand dollars. You then realize it is in your best financial interest if you just died yesterday.

That’s what the plate costs. You’d balked at the number when you researched it, but then you’d calculated the potential return on investment and transferred the money anyway (you’re starting to feel like you don’t have a choice in Tsuki’s games). 

It’s just a month of eating nothing but instant ramen, all good.

Now you’re standing in the Park Hyatt ballroom, nursing champagne you’re forced to carry around, scanning the crowd for a woman you’ve never actually seen.

Kwon Eunbi. Runs the family’s venture fund. Daughter of Kwon Minjun, the shipping magnate who built an empire from a single cargo container and what your research politely categorized  “aggressive business practices.”

You’ve perused her resume. You know her role in this game of thrones. Her mask is still on and you’ve yet to see her true face.

She keeps a low profile which means no socials—no press conferences; a ghost to people who are not in the same tax bracket. The only photo you found was from a Harvard alumni newsletter, grainy and five years old, mostly obscured by a podium. Smart, probably. When your family’s net worth has eleven digits, anonymity is a luxury worth protecting.

Your phone buzzes. You’re not surprised anymore.

But this time it isn’t Tsuki.

Kim Jiwoo · Seoul Financial Review · Voicemail (3)

Three voicemails. Three. From a journalist whose byline alone makes lawyers nervous. This is fine. You silence the phone in your pocket and pull it out again, this time braced for what comes next.

般若: stop looking so constipated

般若: show them that you belong here

般若: act like it Akihiro-kun~

You glance around the room. She’s nowhere to be found. Of course, she’s never anywhere until she wants to be. You give up trying to figure it out.

You slide your phone in your pocket and try to actually look like you belong.

Nope. It doesn’t work. Who am I kidding?

Three people you recognize from past industry events have already done the classic Tokyo Sidestep: That maneuver when someone spots you; calculates the reputational cost of association; and then suddenly discovers the most fascinating painting on the opposite wall.

The gratitude of the finance world. So fickle. Truly heartwarming.

You’re contemplating whether the open bar is worth the walk across the room when someone appears at your elbow.

“You look like a man who’s doing math he doesn’t want to do.”

The words hit you like a slap. You turn, half-expecting dark eyes and that dangerous smile.

But the woman standing there is nothing like Tsuki.

“Sorry”, you manage. “What?”

She’s short. Barely reaches your shoulder, even in heels. But she carries herself like she’s six feet tall, shoulders back, chin lifted, taking up space in a way that makes you notice her despite her size. Her face is open and expressive, eyes bright with amusement, mouth curved into a smile that’s warm instead of cunning.

“You’re doing calculations.” She points and gestures at your face with her champagne glass. “I can see the spreadsheets running behind your eyes. Let me guess. Cost-benefit analysis of whether the networking potential justifies the plate price?”

“More or less.”

“The answer is no, by the way. The people worth talking to at these things don’t care about the gala. They come for the after-parties.” She extends her hand. Her grip is firm, warm, no hesitation. “Kwon Eunbi.”

Kwon…

Kwon!

Your brain, still hungover from a week of Tsuki’s games, takes a full three seconds to catch up. This is her. The daughter. The one Tsuki pointed you toward.

“You’re…”

“The chairman’s daughter. Yes.” She’s still smiling, and finally lets go of your hand. “And you’re Hinode Akihiro. The Ishikawa refugee father won’t stop talking about.”

“Your father…”

“Mentioned you, raved about you even. Multiple times over dinner, actually. Something about discretion, and restructuring and a man who actually reads the fine print.” She tilts her head, studying you so openly that it’s almost unsettling after Tsuki’s constant obscurity. “He said you seemed like someone who could be trusted. And hmm. I wanted to see that for myself.”

“And? What do you think so far?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sold yet.” She’s still smiling; the corner of lips reaches her eyes. “Buy me a drink or two and improve your odds.”

You’re already walking toward the bar before you realize you’re doing it. I hope she likes water because that’s all you can afford right now.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

She’s an animated yapper; talks with her whole face and her hands. 

That’s the first thing you notice. Everything she says comes with gestures: pointing, waving, occasionally touching your arm with her soft, warm hands when she’s making a point. 

Normally, it would be annoying. It isn’t; far from it.

“Harvard was a blast but academically, it was fine,” she’s saying, swirling her wine. “The MBA was useful. But true education was watching my father breeze through a hostile takeover when I was just fifteen: Boardroom politics, shareholder manipulation, the art of knowing which knife goes in which back—and when to twist it.” She grins. “You don’t learn that in business school.”

“Uh… Your father seems…”

“Ruthless? Yeah, of course he is. But, he is also fair, which I understand might be hard to believe.” She sets her glass down. “He’s a man who respects competence. Maybe that’s why he’s drawn towards you.”

“He doesn’t know me that well yet.”

“He knows your work. The Taniguchi restructuring, that was all you, wasn’t it? Everyone assumed it was Matsuda leading, but the footnotes told a different story.”

You blink. Closed your mouth you didn’t know opened. The Taniguchi deal was four years ago. Buried in the middle of your tenure, overshadowed by bigger clients, and flashier wins. You’d honestly forgotten anyone outside the firm even knew about it.

“Wait, how did you…”

“My father taught me that truth lives in what people don’t say out loud.” She leans in, conspiratorial, and you notice the curve of her neckline, the fullness suggested beneath her understated black dress. You look away before she catches you. “Font-size twelve is for show. It’s theatre. The real story is buried in font-size eight, where details are synonymous to the truth.”

“And what did you find buried about me?”

“That you’re thorough… you’re careful. That you caught three errors in the Taniguchi financials that could have tanked the whole deal, and you fixed them behind the scenes without stealing the show.” She sits back. “It’s a rare quality you showed there. Most people would have made a scene. You just.. Played your part. And you played your part well.”

Your shoulders drop. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding them so tight. 

“It wasn’t my intention to look noble,” you say. “I just wanted to get the job done, move on, and close the deal.”

“No need to minimize your accomplishments Hinode-san.” She flags down a waiter, orders something in rapid Korean that you don’t catch. “To pose as a noble man is easy. Literally anyone can look noble with an audience. Continuing to do so when no one’s watching? That’s the quality of a man I look for.”

The waiter returns with two small plates. Some kind of appetizer. Looks expensive, it has caviar on it so it must be. She pushes one towards you.

“Eat. You look like you’ve been running on coffee, instant ramen, and spite for a week.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly lying.” She picks up her fork, takes a bite, side-eyes you until you do the same. “There. Was that so hard Hinode-san?”

It wasn’t. The food is good—sooo fucking good. You’re famished, actually. It’s been the most normal food you’ve eaten in days. You’d skipped multiple meals just to save up for the plate fee.

“My father wants to meet you properly,” she says. “Not in this gala. Somewhere we can actually talk. I’m flying to Seoul on Wednesday. You should come with.”

“I… what?”

“You sound like I’m taking you hostage.” She laughs, nothing like Tsuki’s. Bright and loud and unbothered by who might hear. “It’s a business opportunity, Hinode-san. The family has some restructuring needs. Complicated, sensitive, the kind of thing that requires someone who reads between the lines and doesn’t make scenes.”

“You don’t know me all that well yet.”

“I know enough.” She meets your eyes; holds them. “The question is whether you’re willing to go tit-for-tat. Full disclosure, Hinode-san: I don’t do slow. So… are you in or should we go back to pretending we’re enjoying our time in this gala as just acquaintances.”

What is this? You’re taken aback by the directness. It’s the opposite of Tsuki: She’s not an abyss with the sole intention of manipulating you. Just a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it wholeheartedly.

“Why me?” you ask. “Your father could hire anyone, firms or people without scandals attached to their names.”

“Because the firms are slow and people who play safe are boring.” She leans forward, and you catch a hint of her perfume. Airy floral with a hint of citrus and musky notes; subtle, and expensive. Not loud, nothing you can name, like the whisper she imparts: “And I’ve talked with your old firm and one thing is consistent when they mention you: he’s good, but he’ll never make partner because he refuses to play the game.”

“That’s not a compliment at all.”

“Of course it is.” Her hand finds your arm again. “The game is rigged anyways. I don’t need someone who plays it. I need someone who wins despite it.” 

The words land somewhere deep and you just had to take a mental note on it.

“Before I give my answer. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“You can ask me anything. Whether I answer is a different question.”

“Why venture capital? With your family’s resources, you could easily do anything. Run a division. Start your own company. Why spend your time evaluating other people’s dreams when you can just build on the foundations you already own?”

Her eyebrows lift. 

“Because building something from scratch is terrifying,” she says. “And I like being terrified.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does. My father built his empire from nothing: Started with one shipping container, made a lot of friends and enemies, and faced it all head on. By the time I was born, we had everything. Money, power, the whole package. I’ve never had to struggle for anything in my life.”

“Most people would call that lucky, privileged, and being blessed.”

“Most people get it wrong.” She sets her wine down, her expressions stiffen. “I refuse to be a nepo baby coasting life carefree on comfortable ground. That’s how people get soft, weak, and they start believing they deserve things they never earned.” She picks up her glass, takes a sip, and leans back; watching you. “I’ve seen my cousins live like that. Drowning in money, no clue how to survive without it. I’d rather burn than end up like those pathetic losers.”

“So instead you chose the hardest path to get there?”

“I chose a path that scares me. Venture capital isn’t hard, it’s just math and trusting your gut instinct. But every investment is a bet. Every bet can fail. And every failure is mine. Not my father’s. Not my family’s. Mine.” She takes another sip of her wine. “I needed something that was mine.”

“Ishikawa wasn’t mine,” you say. “It only felt like it was. I gave it twelve years. I worked my ass off, but when everything fell apart… they cut me out like I was nothing. Like I’d never been there at all. Like everything I’ve done isn’t the reason why we’re up there in the first place.”

“That’s what happens when you build someone else’s house.” Her eyes lock in on yours. “You’re never going to do that again, are you?”

“No.”

“Good boy.” She finishes her wine. Sets down the glass with a decisive click. “Then we’re quite the compatible pair, aren’t we?”

Your heart did a thing. Your body who you’ve trusted all these years betrays you as well. Those combinations of words are not what you’d expect in this setting. 

You should really be saying no; ask for time to think. You should do the careful, logical thing that twelve years of professional discipline has trained you to do.

“Wednesday,” you say. “What time?”

Her smile could power a small nation.

“I’ll text you the details.” She stands, and when she stretches slightly you finally see her full figure. Compact but curved. Full bust straining subtly against understated fabric. Hips that move with confident purpose. She’s been hiding it well, but now that you’ve noticed, you can’t unnotice. “And Hinode-san? Wear something that fits. You’ve got the shoulders for a good suit. Stop hiding them in whatever that is.”

“This suit is fine.”

“That suit makes you look like a grandpa.” She’s already walking away. “I’ll send you the name of our tailor. Consider it a business expense.”

Why does everyone always have something to say about your suits?

She’s gone before you can respond.

You stand there, holding an empty champagne glass, trying to understand what just happened. A woman you’ve never met just offered you a lifeline, insulted your wardrobe, and walked away like she owned the room. (She probably does own this room—or her family does at least; you figured it’s the same thing.)

Your phone buzzes.

般若: good boy~

般若: she’s exactly what you need

般若: stable, normal, everything I’m not, am I right?

般若: she’ll take good care of you

般若: in ways I won’t~

般若: oh and are you not curious about me yet, Akihiro-kun?

You stare at the screen. Then at the bustling crowd, where Eunbi has disappeared. Then back at the screen.

In ways I won’t.

What the fuck does that mean?

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Tsuki is waiting when you get home.

She’s sitting on your couch like she belongs there, legs crossed, one of your books open in her lap. The lamp casts warm light across her face, and for a moment you just stand in the doorway, keys in hand, too tired to even be surprised.

“The key under the fire escape,” you say. “Really?”

“You should find a better hiding spot.” She doesn’t look up from the book. “That’s the first place anyone checks.”

“Anyone who’s breaking in, maybe.”

“Anyone who’s paying attention.” Now she looks up. Those eyes. You notice it now in a way you didn’t before. At the bar, in the hotel, in the corridor, and here in your apartment. The same flat darkness, catching light wrong. Human eyes dilate with arousal, fear, interest. Hers don’t. “I pay attention.”

You close the door behind you. Drop your keys on the counter.

“That Kwon daughter,” you say. “That was all you, huh? You set that up.”

“Did I?”

“Don’t.” You cross the room, stop in front of her. “Don’t play games. Not tonight. I’m tired.”

She sets the book aside. Uncrosses her legs. Stands in one fluid motion, close enough that you can smell her. That dark sweet scent that’s haunted you for a week.

“You’re tense, Aki-kun” she says. Her hands find your chest. Presses flat over your heart. “I can feel it. All that anxiety, all that fear about what comes next, about Seoul, about whether you’re good enough.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.” She steps closer. Her body presses against yours. “But I can help with that.”

“How?”

“How about I take care of you tonight.” Her fingers work at your tie, loosening it. “Let me remind you what you’re capable of.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well. It’s the only answer I’m giving.” She pulls the tie free. Drops it on the floor. “Do you want me to stop?”

You should say yes. You should demand explanations, answers, something that makes sense. You should—”

“No.”

“Good boy.”

She kisses you. Hard. Hungry. Her tongue slides against yours and her hands are everywhere, pulling at your shirt, your belt, anything between her skin and yours.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” she breathes against your mouth. “Thinking about how you tasted. How you sounded when I had you in my mouth.”

“Tsuki—”

“Shhh.” She pushes your shirt off your shoulders. Her nails rake down your chest, just hard enough to sting. “Stop talking and just…” She drops to her knees. Your belt is already undone. She pulls down your zipper, frees your already throbbing cock from your boxers, and looks up at you with those flat dark eyes.

“Look at you,” she murmurs. “Already aching hard for me. Already. This. Desperate.” She wraps her hand around your base, strokes slowly. “Did you touch yourself this week thinking about me Aki-kun?”

“Yes.” The words come out strangled.

“How many times?”

“I don’t—”

“How many times, Akihiro?” She squeezes. Just enough pressure to make you gasp. “Three. Maybe four.”

“Did you come?”

“No.” You hadn’t let yourself. It felt wrong. It felt like cheating. “I couldn’t.”

“Because you knew, all this belonged to me.” She strokes again. Twists her wrist at the top.

“Your cock. Your cum. Your pleasure. All. Of. It. Mine.”

She leans forward and licks a stripe from base to tip. Slow. Savoring. You shudder.

“Tsuki—”

“I love the way you say my name.” She swirls her tongue around your cockhead. You start almost chanting her name like a prayer—barely coherent; like you’re begging but words won’t form.

She takes you in.

Hot. Wet. Her mouth is impossibly soft, you swear it’s borderline illegal how her tongue moves, and she takes you deep, deeper than should be comfortable, until you feel the back of her throat and she swallows around you.

“Fuck—” Your hands find her hair. Grip without meaning to. She moans around your cock. The vibration makes your knees buckle.

She pulls back just enough to speak, lips brushing your top. “That’s it. Feel free to fuck my mouth. Take what you need.”

“I don’t want to hurt—”

“Don’t worry, you won’t.” She looks up at you through dark lashes. “I can take it. I can take anything you give me.” She opens her mouth. Sticks out her tongue. Looks at you directly with her dark eyes. Waits.

You thrust.

Shallow at first. Testing. But she moans encouragingly, her hands gripping your hips, pulling you deeper. So you thrust again. Harder. And again. Until you’re fucking her face with a rhythm that’s animal and desperate and nothing like the man you thought you were.

Spit starts to drop down her chin. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes. And still she takes it, takes all of it, making sounds that are wet and obscene and somehow grateful.

“God, you’re—” You can’t finish the sentence. Can barely form coherent thoughts. If this is how you die, then so be it. You’re nearing nirvana. “I’m going to—”

She pulls off.

Fucking hell.

“No.” She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. Stands. “Not yet Aki-kun.”

“Please, Tsuki.” The words come out broken. You’re so hard it hurts, cock slick with her spit, throbbing. “Tsuki, please, let me—”

“I know what you need.” She turns. Walks towards your bedroom. Looks back over her shoulder. “Come with me Akihiro.” You follow her with no hesitation.

She’s already undressing when you reach the doorway. Her dress pools at her feet. No bra. Just black lace panties that barely cover anything. Her breasts are full and perfect, nipples already hard, and she watches your face as you take her in.

“See something you like?”

“Everything.”

“Good answer.” She lies back on your bed. Spreads her legs. Hooks her thumb into her panties and slowly, torturously, slides them down her milky thighs. “Your turn.”

You strip. Practically tear off your remaining clothes. Stand at the edge of the bed, naked and aching, and she looks at you like you’re exactly where she wants you. “On your knees boy,” she says. “I want that mouth of yours on me.”

You kneel. She’s already wet, glistening in the low light, and when you lean in and breathe against her, she shivers. 

“Stop teasing Aki-kun,” she warns.

Your tongue navigates through her already soaked folds and when it finds her clit she gasps, her hips jerking up off the mattress.

“Yes,” she breathes. “Right there. Just like that.”

You eat her like you’re starving; like she’s the first meal you’ve had in weeks. You learn the rhythm she responds to, the pressure, the way she cries out when you suck her clit and push two fingers inside her.

“Fuck. Aki-kun~” Her hands find your hair. Pull hard enough to hurt. “That mouth of yours is so good, so fucking good, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop—” You don’t plan on stopping any time soon. You work her with your tongue and your fingers until she’s shaking, until her thighs are clamped around your head and her moans have become one long continuous sound.

“I’m going to come,” she gasps. “I’m going to—oh god—”

She breaks.

Her whole body seizes, cunt clenching around your fingers, her cry sharp enough to echo off the walls. You work her through it, gentler now, drawing out every aftershock until she’s pushing you at your shoulders.

“Enough.” She’s panting. Flushed. “Enough. Come here.”

You crawl up her body. She kisses you, tasting herself on your lips, and wraps her legs around your waist.

“I want you inside me,” she whispers. “I’ve wanted it since that first night. Wanted to feel you stretch me, fill me to the brim, fuck me until I can’t think.”

“Then let me—”

“Just. Kidding~”

She pushes you off. Rolls you onto your back. Straddles you, her wet heat hovering just above your cock, so close you can feel her.

“Not tonight Aki-kun.” She rocks her hips. Your cock slides through her folds, slick and hot, the head catching against her entrance on every pass. “Tonight you learn.”

“Learn what?” 

“That I decide when you get to come.” She reaches down. Takes your cock in her hand. Positions you right at her entrance, just barely pressing in. “That I decide how much you get. That every time you close your eyes in Seoul and think about what you want, you’ll think about this—” She presses down. Just the tip slides in. You nearly black out. “—about how close you were. About how good it would have felt.”

She lifts off. Completely. Your cock slaps against your stomach, wet, and desperate, and denied.

“No.” She’s already climbing off the bed. “That’s enough for tonight.”

“Tsuki—”

“Hush.” She picks up her dress. Pulls it on like nothing happened. Like you’re not lying there ruined. “Go to Seoul. Meet her father. Let her take care of you.”

“And then?”

“Then come back to me~” She pauses at the doorway. Looks back over her shoulder with those flat, dark eyes. “I’ll be here.”

“What are you?”

She smiles. Lips closed. Her face is unreadable.

“I’m what you can’t stop wanting. No matter what happens, some part of you will wish it was me.”

Then she’s gone.

You lie there on your bed, cock aching, body thrumming with denied release, more confused than you’ve ever been in your life. Her underwear from the networking event is still in your dresser drawer. You never threw it away.

You don’t touch yourself tonight either.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

般若: looks like your flight is at noon

般若: nice suit, her tailor?

般若: oooh, that’s expensive~

般若: did you get a sugar mommy now?

般若: oh, and Aki-kun…

般若: try not to fall too hard, ok? (wink tongue emoji)

You stare at her texts until your screen goes dark. Then you close your eyes and try to sleep. You dream of nothing.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Wednesday, 6:03 AM

Kwon Eunbi: Good morning! Here’s the flight details: KE706, Narita to Incheon, 12:15 PM

Kwon Eunbi: First class. My treat. Don’t argue.

Kwon Eunbi: 6:04 AM

You: That’s too generous. I can pay for my own ticket.

Kwon Eunbi: 🙄

Kwon Eunbi: No! I’m gonna reimburse this when we get there. Business expense!

You: What happened to refusing the life of a nepo baby?

Kwon Eunbi: 🙄🙄🙄

Kwon Eunbi: Consider it hazard pay then. You’ll be sitting next to me for a few hours. 

You: Hazard pay?

Kwon Eunbi: I’m a terrible plane companion. I don’t stop yapping 😜

Kwon Eunbi: Also I’ve been known to aggressively critique strangers’ work over their shoulders

You: I don’t think I’ll be able to do any work in the air anyways with you yapping beside me

Kwon Eunbi: Then you’re safe

Kwon Eunbi: Text me your address. Car will pick you up at 10.

Kwon Eunbi: See you soon, Hinode-san

You set your phone down. Stare at the ceiling.

Try not to fall too hard.

Too late for that.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

By noon, you’re in a window seat watching Tokyo shrink beneath the clouds, and Eunbi beside you with a laptop open, running numbers that would make most CFOs weep.

“Stop watching me work,” she says without looking up. “It’s creepy.”

“I’m not watching you work.”

“Well if you’re not watching me work, then you’re watching something.” She glances over; catches you staring at her hands. You can’t help but do so: the way her fingers almost glide across the keyboard, quick and certain; like each character she inputs has already been considered. “Ah. The hands thing. My ex used to do that too.”

“The hands thing?”

“Apparently I have ‘pianist hands.’” She wiggles her fingers. “I can’t play piano, for the record. Complete waste of good genetics. I wonder what it’s good for though.”

“I wasn’t…”

“You were. It’s fine. I get that a lot.” She closes the laptop. Gives you her full attention. “Talk to me. You’re nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous. I’m meeting your father. This will be my first job ever since leaving Ishikawa.”

“You’re meeting my dad. A potential client that already thinks of you highly.” She shifts in her seat, angling toward you. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve already passed the first test. Stop catastrophizing.”

“I’m not catastrophizing.”

“Your legs say otherwise.”

You look down. It has. Goddamnit.

“I don’t do well with… uncertainty.”

“Then you’re going to hate this, because nothing about working with my family is certain, like at all.” She says it matter-of-factly; no apology. “We’re extremely complicated. We fight. We scheme. Oh, we scheme a lot, you’re not gonna hear the end of it. Half of my cousins want my father’s job and the other half want him dead. It’s like Game of Thrones but with better skincare.”

“Yeah, that’s totally reassuring.”

“It should be. If I wanted safe, I would have hired literally anyone else, you know.” She reaches over; squeezes your hand once, then lets go. “I want someone who can handle messy. Who doesn’t flinch when things get ugly.”

“And you think that’s me?”

“I think you survived Ishikawa and you walked out of that building with your integrity intact, which is more than most people manage. And I think…” She pauses; studies your face with an intensity that makes you want to look away. “You look like someone who’s tired of playing defense. You’re ready to fight again. You just need someone to point you at the right enemy.”

Fight.

That word again. Tsuki said the same thing. That first night. After she left you aching in the hotel room.

“Is there anything wrong? You’re making a weird face,” Eunbi says.

“What face?”

“It looked like you zoned out there, like you’re somewhere else.” She doesn’t seem offended, just curious. “Where do you go? When you check out like that?”

“Nowhere important.”

“Liar.” But she doesn’t push. Just flags down the flight attendant and orders two whiskeys. “Drink with me. It’ll make the rest of the flight less boring.”

The whiskey arrives. You both drink. The silence isn’t awkward exactly, but it’s become weighted. You’re both starting to feel a bit more loose too. The alcohol doing its job.

“Can I ask you something more personal?” you say.

“You can, but I reserve the right to deflect with humor.”

“What do you do for fun?” Her face changes; like she’s expecting a punchline from you. “When you’re not reading financial records and terrorizing your cousins.”

She laughs without restraint. Surprised, maybe, that you’d ask.

“I watch the worst reality TV shows imaginable,” she admits. “The trashier the better. Singles Inferno, The Bachelor, dating shows, anything where people make increasingly dramatic poor life choices.”

“Really? But why reality tv, specifically?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. I spend all day making rational decisions. Sometimes you need to watch someone throw wine at another person because they’re being a bitch.” She takes a sip of her whiskey. “What about you? What does the Hinode Akihiro do when he’s not staring at spreadsheets?”

“I used to rock climb before everything fell apart.”

“Used to?”

“Hard to motivate yourself when you’re not sure what you’re climbing toward.” You swirl your drink. “Now I mostly drink and read. I must sound so fucking miserable, huh?”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you. I’m cultivating a specific aesthetic.”

“Brooding middle-aged accountant?”

“Hey, I’m not that old.”

“Brooding almost-middle-aged accountant.” She grins. “It’s a good look. Very Mr. Darcy energy.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Oh, what the heck do you read? You are absolutely getting a reading list.” She pulls out her phone, starts typing. “Pride and Prejudice. Mandatory. No arguments.”

“I don’t… I mostly read self-help books.”

“Eew. Self-help books? No. You don’t need that at all. You’re changing that, now. No further arguments.” She looks up. Mock-stern. “This is happening, ok? Consider it part of your professional development.”

“How is reading a two-hundred-year-old romance novel professional development?”

“It’s about a smart woman falling for a man who’s terrible at expressing emotions but secretly has a good heart. Very applicable to our working relationship.”

“Which one am I in this scenario?”

“Not sure yet.” But she’s giving you the biggest smile. “Probably Darcy. You’ve got the brooding down.”

You laugh uncontrollably. You haven’t laughed like this in a while. It surprises both of you.

“Oh and by the way, my father will ask about your failures,” Eunbi says as the seatbelt sign dings on. “Not your successes—he already knows those. He wants to know how you handle losing.”

“What should I tell him?”

“The truth. He can smell bullshit from three prefectures away. So, don’t even try.”

“What if the truth makes me look bad?”

“Then at least he’ll know you’re honest.” She smiles and it’s so different; so warm and unguarded. “That’s infinitely worth more than looking good.”

You swear your heart skipped a beat, but it could as well be the whiskey playing tricks on you. It has enchanted you a couple of times, you might as well not know the difference between fantasy and reality with it in your system.

The plane touches down. And as you taxi toward the gate, watching Seoul sprawl beneath the overcast afternoon sky, you realize something.

You haven’t thought about Tsuki at all in almost three hours.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

The meeting with Kwon Minjun goes surprisingly better than you deserve.

He’s smaller than you expected. You swear he was a titan back at the networking event; maybe clout in a public setting grows you a few inches.

His place reflects him very well. High ceiling, wood-paneled walls, dim warm lighting, and a single window with a serene view of the river. Modern interiors mixed with traditional accents. One wall has a glass case with three masks mounted. Two are masks you recognize from the textbooks. The third is a Hannya. Female’s face, twisted between rage and grief, small horns curving from the forehead. 

It’s an artform that eludes you but seeing it somehow evokes some kind of fight or flight. You’ve seen it before. The hotel hallway, the night Tsuki took you upstairs. You were not sure what it was called then.

Minjun catches you looking. “My wife’s. She was into traditional Japanese folklore.”

“Was?”

“She passed, twelve years ago.” A pause. “Some of her collection ended up in my office. I look at them more than I should.”

You’re not sure why but that information feels useful, you file it away for now.

He spends the first thirty minutes asking about everything except your business: Your family. Your education. The book you’re currently reading (you’re currently realizing how much of a bookworm this family is, not that it’s a bad thing but it’s making you rethink your current collection.)

Whether you prefer mountains or oceans:

“Mountains,” you answer. “The ocean is vast and deep, it reminds me of how small I am.”

“And mountains don’t?”

“They do but mountains at least make me feel like there’s something worth climbing.”

He laughs at that; a short, surprised sound. He looks at Eunbi, who’s been watching from the corner of the room with barely concealed amusement.

“Tell me about the day you decided to ‘leave.’ Ishikawa”

You set down your tea. “It wasn’t my decision, I was basically forced into it. I resigned because the alternative was being laid off.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His face switched into serious-mode; first time this happened throughout the conversation. “I asked when you decided. There’s a difference between resigning and choosing to resign. You made the call before HR did. I want to know when.”

You think. Honestly. “There was an incident two years ago… An arrangement I helped structure. I had questions but decided not to ask them. When I recalled that I knew I wasn’t fully innocent.”

A long pause. “Then we understand each other.” A pause. “You were right,” he tells Eunbi. “This man is interesting.”

“Father, I’m always right,” Eunbi says. “You should remember that.”

The business discussion happens over dinner: Three hours of restructuring proposals, tax implications, family trust complications that would make a lesser accountant wet their pants and cry themselves to sleep. You take notes on your phone. Ask questions that got Minjun to pause and reconsider. By the time the last course arrives, you’ve outlined a preliminary strategy that addresses concerns he hasn’t even voiced yet.

“Incredible! You’re really good at this, huh, young man?” he says.

“I try, sir.”

“Alright, we’re done for today.” He stands, signaling to everyone in the room that the meeting is over. “My daughter will handle the details. I look forward to working with you, Hinode-san.”

He leaves. And suddenly you’re alone with Eunbi in a private dining room that probably costs more per hour than your rent for the whole year.

“That was terrifying,” you say.

“That was him at his nicest.” She’s grinning. “He usually makes people feel dumb and have them cry by the second course. You made it to dessert with no speck in your eye. That’s impressive.”

“You really think so? I think I blacked out for a better part of it.”

“You didn’t. You were brilliant. Be proud of yourself, I am.” She stands, stretches. The movement pulls her dress tight, and you see her full figure now without obstruction. Compact but curved. The kind of body that expensive clothes are designed to downplay and now you’re suddenly very aware of. “Come on. I’m starving.” 

“Huh? We just ate dinner.”

“We ate business dinner. That doesn’t count. Pretty much empty calories. I know a place nearby that cooks real food.” She’s already heading for the door. “My treat. Don’t argue.”

“You’re going to bankrupt yourself treating me to things.”

“I’m worth eight hundred million dollars, Akihiro. I think I’ll survive buying you food.”

You follow her out into the Seoul night.

(Eight hundred million. You can’t even conceptualize that number.)

(Also: she called you Akihiro. Not Hinode-san. You noticed. Progress. You’re not sure why you’re tracking progress suddenly.)

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

The “place nearby” turns out to be a pojangmacha. A street tent with plastic chairs and a woman who greets Eunbi by name.

“They know you. You come here often?”

“When I need to feel normal and when I want actually good food.” She orders for both of you in rapid Korean. “Tteokbokki. Kimbap. Soju. The essentials.”

“Eunbi-ah,” the woman says, swatting at her arm with a kitchen towel. “Where have you been? You don’t visit auntie anymore.”

“Auntie, I was here last Friday.”

“Aigoo~ You’re getting thin-ah! I’ll give you extra, eat more! Eat more!” She squints at you. “Mmm. He’s new.”

“He’s working.”

“Working at what?”

“Numbers.”

The woman makes a face like numbers personally offended her. “Sit! Get comfortable. I’ll bring you what you should eat. Not whatever you ordered.” She walks off.

Eunbi turns to you. “She’ll feed you something with intestines. Don’t react.”

“Noted.”

“Also, she might ask if we’re married. Just go along with it.”

You wait for the smile to break. It doesn’t. “Are you serious?”

“It speeds up the meal, and they give us more servings because of it.”

The food arrives fast. It’s spicy and cheap and perfect. Everything you’ve been missing this past few hours.

“So,” she says, pouring soju into tiny glasses. “You survived my father. You good? How are you feeling right now?”

“Like I just ran a marathon while someone asked me increasingly personal questions.”

“That’s accurate.” She hands you a glass. “To surviving.”

You drink. The soju burns.

“Can I ask you something?” you say.

“You’re asking that a lot today. But sure.”

“Why are you doing this? The dinner. The streetfood. The…” You gesture vaguely at everything. “You could be anywhere. With anyone. Why are you eating intestines with a disgraced accountant?”

“You’re not disgraced, don’t be dramatic. You’re just… undergoing a transition in your career. There is a clear difference.”

“Well, the world doesn’t see it that way.”

“The world is… well, frankly it’s stupid.” She takes another drink. “And I’m doing this because I like you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“That’s the saddest thing you’ve said yet.” She pours more soju. “You know what I think? I think you’ve spent so long performing competence that you’ve forgotten people might actually just enjoy your company.”

You nod. “That’s a good theory.”

“It’s a fact you dum-dum. You’re funny. You’re smart. You ask good questions and you actually listen to the answers. Most men I meet spend the whole conversation calculating: my net worth, my cup size, or what I can do for their career. It’s exhausting.” She meets your eyes. “You’re also present; like, actually in the room with me instead of three moves ahead. Do you know how rare that is for a man nowadays?”

You don’t know what to say to that. So you drink instead and gulp the burning alcohol.

“I should show you the apartment,” she says eventually. “It’s getting late, and tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“What do you mean apartment, huh?”

“Where you’re staying. Family guest suite. It’s nicer than a hotel and the kitchen is stocked.” She’s already standing, leaving won on the table and waves farewell to the auntie with her signature big smile. “Plus it’s attached to my suite, so if you have any questions about tomorrow’s meetings, I’m right there.”

She’s… right… there…

You follow her into the Seoul night, feeling something you haven’t felt in weeks.

Hope, maybe. Or something that resembles it.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

The Kwon family apartment is less an apartment and more a penthouse that happens to have multiple apartments inside it. Your ‘guest suite’ has two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a view of the Han River that looks like a postcard. People would kill to get this vantage point.

“This is the small one,” Eunbi says, watching your face as you take it in. “My father’s is upstairs.”

“Seriously? The small one.”

“I know. It’s too much.” She doesn’t sound bothered. “Bathroom’s through there. Kitchen’s stocked, feel free to take anything. I’m through that door if you need me.”

She points to a connecting door between the suites.

“Get some rest,” she says. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“Eunbi…”

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you. For today. For… all of it.”

She looks at you. The sharpness leaves her face for a moment. She looks warm.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is all just business.”

“Is it?”

The question hangs there. She doesn’t look away.

“Get some rest now Akihiro,” she says again. Way softer this time.

She disappears through the connecting door. You hear it click shut behind her.

You shower. Change into the one nice pair of pajamas you packed. Lie down in a bed that’s too comfortable, in a room that’s too big, in a life that suddenly makes no sense.

Your phone buzzes.

般若: sooo… how was daddy kwon?

般若: did he make you cry?

般若: mhmmph~! no response. it means you’re either sleeping or sulking

般若: either way~

般若: sweet dreams, aki-kun

般若: don’t think about me too much 💋

You turn off your phone. Press your face into the pillow, cool and soft to the touch.

You dream of dark eyes, dangerous smiles, and the sound of your own name; distorted and mocking.

Akihiro-kun.

Aki-kun.

Akihiro.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Day Two in Seoul

Another day. Another opportunity to kill it; or yourself. You haven’t decided yet but work today went well at least.

You spend the morning going through different files with Eunbi, untangling the Kwon family’s trust structures, finding the pressure points and leverage opportunities. She’s extremely sharp, sharper than you expected, catching details you miss and building on your insights.

By afternoon, you’ve developed a preliminary framework. By dinner, you’re finishing each other’s sentences.

“This cousin here, Wonbin, he’s the problem,” you say, pointing at a family tree scrawled on a hotel stationery.

“He’s always been the problem. But we can’t cut him out without destabilizing the whole eastern division.”

“What if we don’t cut him out? What if we give him something he wants more than a chairmanship?”

“Like what?”

“Autonomy. His own subsidiary. Let him feel like a king of a smaller kingdom instead of a prince in a larger one. Let him think he holds the cards.”

She stares at you. Dumbfounded. Proud. A mix of things. Then grins.

“You’re either brilliant or insane.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“No,” she says. “They’re not.”

She orders room service. You eat on the floor of her suite, papers spread around you like a nest.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

“You’re asking that a lot this week.”

“Touché.” She sets down her chopsticks. “What happened at Ishikawa? What really happened? Not the PR bullshit that spread around.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. You’ve told this story before, to lawyers and HR and partly to her father. But you’ve never really laid it all out honestly.

“I didn’t know,” you say finally. “That’s the short version. The partners were running a scheme, using client accounts to funnel money into shell companies, and I didn’t know. I should have. The signs were all there, if you knew where to look. But I was so focused on my work, on making partner, that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.”

“That’s…That’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? I prided myself on catching what others missed. I was that guy. The one that reads between the lines. But I missed the biggest thing that’s happening in my own firm.” You stare at the mess of papers on the floor. “I think that’s what bothers me the most. Not that I lost my job. That I was so blind.”

“You weren’t blind. You were trusting. There’s a difference.”

“The result is the same.”

“No, it’s not.” She moves closer. Sits beside you instead of across from you. “Blind people don’t learn. Trusting people who get burned learn to be more careful next time. You’re not going to make that mistake again.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re already looking to be redeemed. You’re already questioning everything. You double-check every assumption. That’s not blindness. That’s someone who got hurt and refuses to get hurt the same way twice.”

You really don’t know what to say after that. So you don’t say anything.

She reaches over. Squeezes your hand. Lets go before it becomes something else.

“Well, we should get some sleep,” she says. “Tomorrow’s going to be long.”

“You said the same thing yesterday.”

“Every day with my family is long.” She stands. Offers you a hand up. “Come on. Out of my suite. You’ve got your own perfectly nice apartment to brood in.”

You take her hand. She pulls you to your feet. And for a moment you’re standing very close, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, close enough to feel her breath.

Neither of you moves.

“Goodnight, Akihiro,” she says. Softly.

“Goodnight, Eunbi.”

You walk to the connecting door. Open it. Look back.

She’s still standing where you left her. Watching you with an expression you can’t read.

You close the door behind you.

Your phone buzzes.

般若: still thinking about me Aki-kun?

般若: good boy~ ♡

You turn off your phone and try to sleep.

You don’t dream of Tsuki tonight.

You dream of Eunbi instead. (Great. This. Whatever this is. It’s going to be a problem.)

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Day Three

You’re in a meeting room with three Kwon cousins arguing about a holding entity. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You don’t check.

Later, in the bathroom, you look.

Kim Jiwoo · Seoul Financial Review: “I know you’re in Seoul, Hinode-san. I’m based here. Coffee? Twenty minutes anywhere you pick. I just want to have a conversation.”

You close the message.

Walking back to the meeting room you wonder briefly how the fuck she knows you’re in Seoul.

The day goes by with more work. A lot more progress. Extremely more time spent in her orbit, gravity pulling you close but not quite touching.

She brushes against you when she reaches for the documents. Her hand finds your arm when she’s making a point. Once, leaning over your shoulder to look at something on your laptop, you feel her breath against your ear and have to excuse yourself to get water. (The skinship that’s happening is beyond what you imagine.)

“You okay?” she asks when you return.

“Fine. Just needed to stretch.”

“You’ve been stretching a lot today.”

“I’m a stretchy person.”

“Who are you? Monkey D. Luffy?”

“No. Sorry. I just panicked.”

You both burst of laughter and the tension ratchets up another notch.

By dinner, you’re both avoiding eye contact.

“This is ridiculous,” she says finally. “We’re adults. I like you and you clearly like me. We can both acknowledge attraction like grown adults without making it weird.”

“Can we?”

“Apparently not, based on the last three hours.” She sets down her chopsticks. “Cards on the table. I find you attractive. I’m pretty sure you also find me attractive. We’re both single, we’re both consenting adults, and we’re going to be working together for the foreseeable future. So we need to decide how to handle this.”

“How do you want to handle… this?”

“I asked you first.”

“That’s… That’s not fair.”

“I never said I was fair.” She leans back in her chair. “Tell me what you want, Akihiro. No wrong answers. Just honest ones.”

What do you want?

If you really are being honest then… You want to kiss her. You want to pull her into your lap and find out what sounds she makes when she’s not the feisty venture capitalist that she is. You want to forget about Tsuki, about Ishikawa, about everything that’s happened in the last month, and just be present with someone who seems to actually see through you.

But you also know there’s something else. Someone else. A presence in your head that won’t let go, no matter how much you want it to.

“I want to figure out what I want,” you finally say. “That’s the honest answer. I’m attracted to you. I like spending my time with you. But there’s… something else. Something I’m still trying to understand. And until I do, I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”

For a moment the room is filled with silence.

“That’s either the most honest thing a man has ever said to me,” she says, “or the most elaborate brush-off.”

“It’s not a brush-off Eunbi.”

“Then what is it?”

“A rain check.” You meet her eyes. “I’m not saying no. I’m saying not yet. Not until I can be fully present with you.”

She nods slowly; processing. 

“Okay,” she says. “I can work with that.”

“You sure you can?”

“I’m not going to force myself on someone who isn’t ready. That’s not who I am.” She stands. Starts aggressively gathering the dinner containers. “But I’m also not going to wait forever. Figure out your shit, Akihiro. Then let me know.”

She leaves the room. You hear her in the kitchen, washing dishes with more force than strictly necessary.

You don’t blame her.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Day Four

Meetings all morning with various Kwon relatives, each more complicated than the last. Then a working lunch with Minjun where he asks pointed questions about your five-year plan and seem satisfied with your answers.

By evening, you’re exhausted. You order room service and eat alone in your suite, staring out at the river.

Your phone buzzes.

Kwon Eunbi: I owe you an apology

You: For what?

Kwon Eunbi: Last night. I was pushy. You set a boundary and I made it weird.

You: Don’t worry about it.

You: You didn’t make it weird.

Kwon Eunbi: I definitely made it a little weird. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.

You: You’ve bought me a lot of drinks this week.

Kwon Eunbi: One drink. Connecting door. Bring your best brooding face.

You: I’ll be there in twenty

You shower. Change into a clean shirt. Tell yourself this is just a drink. (You know it’s not just a drink. She knows it’s not just a drink. You repeat it over and over inside your head, this ain’t just a drink, right? You’re clearly going insane.)

You knock on the connecting door anyway.

She opens it in silk pajamas. Hair loose. Face bare of makeup.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“You asked.”

She steps aside. You step through.

The suite is warm. Jazz playing softly from somewhere. Two glasses of wine already poured on the coffee table.

“I was hoping you’d say yes,” she admits.

“What would you have done if I said no?”

“Drank both glasses myself and pretend it never happened.” She hands you a glass. “Sit. You’re making me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?”

“Everything about this makes me nervous.” She sits on the couch. Leaves space for you. “I don’t do this, you know. Invite men to my suite. Mix business with… whatever this is.”

“What is this?”

“I don’t know yet.” She looks at you. Those bright eyes, so different from Tsuki’s. “But I’d like to find out. If you’re willing.”

You should say no. You should protect her from whatever’s happening in your head, the presence that won’t let go, the unfinished business you have with someone you don’t understand.

But she’s looking at you like you matter. Like you’re worth the risk.

“I’m willing,” you hear yourself say.

She sets down her wine. Moves closer. Her hand finds your jaw, turns your face toward hers.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because once we do this, we can’t undo it.”

“I know.”

“And I meant what I said. I don’t like sharing. If this happens, I need you here. With me. Fully present.”

“I’m here.”

“Are you?”

You kiss her instead of answering.

She makes a sound against your mouth. Surprised, maybe. Then her hands are in your hair and she’s kissing you back, and everything you’ve been holding back floods out.

“Wait.” She pulls back. Breathing hard. “Wait. I need to tell you something first.”

“What?”

“I haven’t—” She closes her eyes. Opens them slowly. “It’s been a long time. Years. I’ve been so focused on work, on proving myself, that I haven’t… this is the first time I’ve wanted anyone in a very long time.”

“Eunbi—”

“I’m not saying that to pressure you. I’m just saying it because I need you to know that this means something to me. I don’t do casual.”

You touch her face. Trace the line of her jaw.

“Neither do I.”

She kisses you again.

This time neither of you pulls back.

Her hands find the buttons of your shirt. She works them open one by one, her mouth never leaving yours, and when the fabric parts she runs her palms across your chest.

“Mhmm~” She pulls back just enough to look. “You’ve been hiding this.”

“I haven’t been—”

“Shut up.” She pushes the shirt off your shoulders. Kisses your collarbone. Your sternum. The hollow of your throat. “Let me enjoy this.”

You reach for her pajama top. She raises her arms and lets you pull it over her head.

God.

Her breasts are fuller than you expected. Heavy and round, nipples already hard, flushed pink against her skin. Nothing like Tsuki’s, which were pert and perfect and calculated to destroy you. Eunbi’s are generous. Soft. Extremely soft. The kind you want to bury your face in and willingly suffocate in.

“You’re staring,” she says.

“I can’t help it.” (You really can’t. Her body is a super massive blackhole and your eyes are getting pulled into it and your mind is in mid-spaghettification)

“Good.” She takes your hands. Place them on her breasts. “Don’t help it.”

You cup them. Feel their weight in your palms. When your thumb brush her nipples she gasps, arching into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes,” she breathes. “Like that. Fuck, like that—”

You lean down and take one nipple in your mouth. She cries out, her hands flying to your hair, pulling you closer. You suck. Roll the other nipple between your fingers. She writhes beneath you making sounds that are nothing like Tsuki’s. These are raw and real.

“More,” she gasps. “I need more—”

You kiss down her stomach. Hook your fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms and pull them down slowly, kissing each new inch of skin as it’s revealed. Her hips. Her thighs. The crease where her leg meets her body. She lifts her hips to help you, kicking the fabric away, and then she’s naked beneath you.

A gift from the gods unwrapped in its full glory. All of her. Curved and soft and warm and confident and… all yours.

“Your turn,” she says, reaching for your belt.

She undoes it with fumbling fingers. Pulls down your zipper. You help her get your pants and boxers off, and when your cock springs free she makes a sound low in her throat.

“Oh.” She wraps her hand around you. Strokes. “Oh!~”

“That good or bad?”

“That’s…” She gulped. “Good. That’s very, very good.” She strokes again, watching your face.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the plane. Watching your hands. Wondering how they’d feel.”

“Oh?” She slides off the couch onto her knees. “How does it feel so far?” Looks up at you with those bright eyes.

You fail to give her any sort of response from that assault.

“Let me taste you.”

Before you can respond, her mouth is already on you.

“Fuck,” you groan as she takes you deeper. “Your mouth—”

She hums around your cock. The vibration makes your hips jerk.

“You like that?” She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips brushing your tip. “You like my mouth on your cock?”

“Yes—”

She takes you deep again. Deeper. You feel the back of her throat, feel her swallow around you, and your hands fist in her hair.

“I’m gonna—if you keep doing that—”

She pulls off. Stands. Climbs onto your lap, straddling you, and before your mind catches up to what’s happening she’s reaching between you, positioning you at her entrance. She’s soaked. You can feel it. The head of your cock sliding through her folds, coating you in her wetness.

“Look at me,” she says. “I want to see your face when you finally stop calculating.” You look at her. Time stops. Seconds become years.

She sinks down.

“Oh fuck—” Her head falls back, her mouth open, her whole body trembling. “Christ. Christ, Akihiro. I had a number for this in my head and you just blew right past it.”

You try to find the right words in your head. She’s tight. Tighter than you expected, her walls gripping you, and wet, so fucking wet that you slide all the way to the hilt.

“Eunbi—”

“Shhh.” She rolls her hips. Adjusts. Takes a shaky breath. “Just—let me feel you. It’s been so long. Let me feel how deep you can go.”

“Eunbi—”

She starts to move. Slow at first. Finding her rhythm. Her hands on your chest, her eyes half-closed, making sounds that are high and breathless and abso-fucking-lutely real.

“You feel amazing,” she gasps. “Fuck, you feel—I forgot how good this could—You’re so big inside me—Fuck!”

You grip her hips. Start moving with her. She cries out.

“There—right there—don’t stop—please—fill me up—”

You don’t stop. You fuck up into her while she rides you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her breasts bounce with every thrust and you can’t stop watching them, can’t stop thinking about how different this is from Tsuki. She controlled you, denied you access, always keeping you on the edge without ever letting you fall. But Eunbi is giving everything. All she’s got. Generous. Taking everything you have and giving it back twofold.

“Harder,” she moans. “Fuck me harder—”

You flip her. Put her on her back, her legs wrapped around your waist, and you pound into her tight pussy the way you’ve wanted to pound into someone for longer than you can remember.

“Yes—yes—yes—yes!” She’s almost chanting now, mindless, her nails raking down your back. “Just like that, please don’t stop, I’m gonna—I’m gonna—Fuck!”

She comes. Her whole body seizes, her cunt clamping down on you so hard you start seeing stars constructing whole constellations in your head. You fuck her through it, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pulse around your cock.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps as soon as she can breathe. “Keep going. I told you I don’t do slow. I told you I don’t do half. Don’t make me a liar.”

“Turn around.”

She gives you the horniest grin. Wild. Hungry. The composed heiress is gone; this version wants to devour you.

She flips onto her hands and knees. Look back at you over her shoulder. And the view—fuck, the view. Her ass is round and peach-perfect, her pussy glistening and swollen, her spine curved in invitation.

“Like this?”

You grab her hips. She arches. God that arch. You push inside. She moans, dropping her head, pushing back against you.

“Oh God. There. Right—there. Akihiro, there.”

You fuck her like you’ve never fucked anyone else. Hard. Deep. Starved. Watching yourself disappear into her over and over. Watching her body shake with each impact. Feeling how tight she grips you with every thrust. She’s so wet you can hear it, slick and obscene, and her moans are building higher with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck yes—don’t stop—”

And then—

Something shifts.

Her hair looks darker suddenly. Her skin paler. The curve of her spine changes, becomes something more familiar, and when she looks back over her shoulder her eyes turn flat and dark and everything warm turns cold, everything bright turns dark, and—

Tsuki.

She’s Tsuki. Under you, taking you, moaning your name, and you’re fucking her the way you’ve wanted to fuck her for weeks, hard and deep, and desperate, and she’s finally letting you, finally giving you what she’s been denying—

“This is what you’ve been wanting, Aki-kun,” Tsuki croons. “Take. Take it. I let you, this once. Don’t think I won’t take it back.”

You slam into her. Feral. Desperate. Angry. All the frustration of the past week pouring out. She takes it, takes all of it, crying out with every thrust, and you’re so close, so fucking close—

“Akihiro—”

It shifts again. Eunbi’s voice. Eunbi’s face. Eunbi’s body. The vision shatters.

You freeze. Heart pounding hard. Cock still throbbing inside her. (What the fuck was that?!)

“Akihiro please don’t stop,” she gasps. “God, don’t stop, I’m so fucking close—”

You force yourself to move. Force yourself to be present. This is Eunbi. This is real. She is real. Her warm, soft body. Her genuine moans. Her need that matches your own.

Stay here, stay with her.

I’m gonna cum again,” she warns. “Fuck I’m gonna—”

She does. Harder than before. Her whole body convulses, her cunt milking you, and this time you finally let yourself go with her. You bury yourself to the hilt and come, pumping your seed into her, filling her up while she shakes beneath you.

“Oh fuck—” She’s still trembling. “Oh fuck, I can feel it—you’re cumming so much—so warm”

You collapse on top of her. Both of you panting. Both of you wrecked.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

“Yeah.”

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

She laughs. Breathless. Turns her head to kiss you sloppily.

But she’s not done. After a minute, she pushes you onto your back. Your cock is still half hard, slick with her wetness and your cum, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking until you’re fully hard again.

“I told you,” she says, grinning down at you. “It’s been three years. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

She straddles you. Sinks down onto your cock in one smooth motion, and you can feel how wet she is, slick with you, dripping at each motion.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” she breathes, starting to move. “Feeling you inside me like this. Feeling how wet I am from you. Feeling your cum going deeper in me.”

She rides you slowly this time. Her hips rolling in lazy circles, her breasts swaying in your face. You watch them. Reach up and cup them, squeeze them, roll her nipples between your fingers.

“Yes,” she gasps. “Touch me. Take what’s yours. I love the way you touch my tits.”

You lean up. Take one nipple in your mouth. She cries out, her rhythm stuttering.

“Fuck—and your mouth—” You suck harder. She fucks you faster. Her moans building again, her walls tightening around you, and you can feel another orgasm building in both of you.

“I’m close,” she gasps. “Fuck, I’m close again—”

“Me too Eunbi.”

“Come with me.” She’s riding you frantically now, chasing it. “Come inside me again—I want you to fill me up—”

She comes. Clenches around you, crying out, and you follow her over the edge. Spilling into her for a second time, adding to the mess you already made inside her, and she collapses onto your chest with a satisfied groan.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles against your skin. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“I don’t really know where I came from but just know that now, I feel like I’m in heaven.”

You laugh. She laughs.

“Well you and me both.” She lifts her head. Grins at you, sweaty and satisfied, your cum leaking out of her onto your thigh. “We’re doing that at least three more times before you leave.”

“I might actually die.”

“Worth it.” She kisses you, soft and sweet. Nothing like Tsuki. “Totally fucking worth it.” You hold her. Let yourself be held. You don’t mention anything about the vision.

You really don’t know how.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

She curls against your side, pulls the blanket over both of you, rest her head on your chest.

“That was so good,” she says, sleepy and satisfied. “I forgot how good that could be.” She traced patterns on your chest. “I was starting to think I’d forgotten how.”

“You definitely didn’t forget.”

“Good to know the equipment still works.” She yawns. “You’re staying in Seoul for another few days. My father has more meetings scheduled.”

“Okay.”

“And I cleared my calendar.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m keeping you.”

You should clarify. Set expectations. Manage whatever this is becoming.

“Okay,” you say.

She falls asleep within minutes

You lie there in the dark, listening to her breathe, watching Seoul glitter beyond the windows.

You’re thinking about the vision. About Tsuki’s face where Eunbi’s should have been.

No matter what happens, some part of you will wish it was me.

Some part of you does. You don’t know how to feel about that.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

The nightmare comes around 3AM.

Masks. Hundreds of them. The mask you saw from the hotel hallway when you first met Tsuki, multiplied across every wall of an endless room. Their faces shift, anguish to rage, to something that might be hunger, and they’re all watching you.

You try to run. The floor is soft, wet, giving way beneath your feet. Slowly eating you alive.

Laughter echoes from everywhere. High-pitched. Demonic. Distorted. Mocking.

“Aki-kun,” a voice croons. Tsuki’s voice, but wrong. “Where are you going, Akihiro-kun?”

You run faster. The masks lean down from the walls.

“Akihiro.” The voice is everywhere. Nowhere. “Did you think you could escape me?”

“AKIHIRO.”

You jerk awake. Heart pounding. Sheets damp with sweat.

Eunbi is propped up beside you. Her hand is on your chest.

“Nightmare?” she asks softly.

“I—yeah.”

“You were saying a name.”

Your blood goes cold.

“What name?”

“Tsuki.”

The word hangs between you. Heavy. Damning. (You’re fucking screwed)

“So that’s the mystery woman,” she says.

“Yes.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she pushes the blankets aside and stands.

You see her in the low light. All of her. The curve of her spine, the fullness of her hips, her breasts swaying slightly as she moves. Even now, even in this moment, she’s beautiful. Unconsciously sensual in a way that’s nothing like Tsuki.

She walks to the bathroom. You hear water running. She returns with a glass, sits on the edge of the bed, offers it to you.

“Drink.”

You take the glass. Drink. Your hands are shaking slightly.

“How long has this been happening?” she asks. “The nightmares.”

“Since I met her. About a week ago.”

“That’s when you met me too.”

“I know.”

She nods. Processing.

“We all have our ghosts,” she says finally.

“Eunbi, I—”

“Don’t.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Don’t apologize for your subconscious. You can’t control what you dream about.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me.” She takes the glass from your hands. Sets it on the nightstand. “But I knew what this was when I started it. I knew you were carrying something. I just didn’t know her name.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be.” She lies back down. But there’s distance now. Inches that weren’t there before. “Try to sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“Eunbi—”

“Morning, Hinode-san. Everything makes more sense in daylight.”

She turns away. Not hostile. Just… done.

You lie there in the dark, watching the ceiling, feeling like you’ve broken something you didn’t know was fragile.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

Morning comes too early.

You wake to gray light and an empty bed. For a moment you think she left. But then you hear sounds from the kitchen.

She’s making coffee.

You find her at the counter, wearing nothing but one of your shirts. It barely covers her thighs. Her hair is mussed. She looks soft. Domestic. She looks like something you could have.

“Cream and sugar are on the table,” she says without looking up. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

“Black is fine.”

“Of course it is.” She pushes a cup toward you. Meets your eyes. “You look terrible.”

“Didn’t sleep well.”

“I noticed.” She takes a sip of her own coffee. Studies you over the rim. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“Last night. The nightmare. Tsuki.”

You wait.

“I like you, Hinode-san,” she says. “I think we could be good together. Professionally, personally, whatever. But I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

“You’re not…”

“Let me finish.” She holds up a hand. “I believe you when you say you don’t understand what’s happening with this Tsuki person. I even believe you when you say you want to be here, with me.”

“I do.”

“I know.” She sets down her cup. “But I also know what I heard last night. You weren’t just dreaming about her. You were terrified of her. And when you said her name…” She trails off. Shakes her head. “There was longing in your voice. Need.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Then don’t. Not now.” She takes another sip. “Here’s what I propose. The business arrangement stands. My father likes you. The restructuring work is real. I’ll make sure you get it, because you deserve it, and because it’s the right decision for the family.”

“But?”

“But this—” she gestures between you “—needs to wait. Until you figure out what you want. Who you want.”

“Eunbi…”

“Figure it out Hinode-san.” She says it simply. Without cruelty. “I mean that. Whatever this is, obsession, curse, trauma response, I don’t know, you need to figure it out. Not for me. For you.”

“And if I do? If I figure it out and come back?”

Her jaw unclenches. The sharpness leaves her face.

“If I’m still not taken then we’ll have a different conversation.” She reaches across the counter. Squeezes your hand once, then lets go. “I like you, Akihiro. More than I probably should. But I didn’t build a career by making exceptions for people who couldn’t even meet me halfway.”

“That’s fair.”

“I know it is.” She checks her watch. “You have a meeting with my father in two hours. The car will be here in ninety minutes. I suggest you shower.”

“Eunbi…”

“We’re okay.” She says it firmly. Like she’s decided it. “This isn’t goodbye. It’s just… a pause. Figure out your ghost. Then call me.”

She disappears into her bedroom before you can respond.

You stand alone in the kitchen of her penthouse you don’t deserve, drinking coffee that’s better than anything you’ve ever made, watching Seoul wake up beyond the windows.

Your phone buzzes. You check it more reflexively than expectantly.

Kim Jiwoo · Seoul Financial Review: Hinode-san. Following up. The Polaris piece is closing this week and I think we should talk before it runs.

You don’t answer. You don’t even read past the first line. You put the phone face-down on the countertop.

A minute later it buzzes again. This time you look.

般若: well done

Two words. Nothing else. You stare at the screen until it goes dark.

She knew. She always knows.

I’m what you can’t stop wanting.

You’re starting to believe her.

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

The rest of the week passes in a blur of meetings, contracts, and careful distance.

Eunbi is professional, cordial, and warm; business associates type of warm. A hand on your shoulder during introductions. A smile when you make a clever point. Nothing that would seem out of place to an observer.

But she doesn’t touch you or look at you like she did that night. Whatever door opened between you, she’s closed it. Gently but firmly. You don’t push. You wouldn’t know how.

The work is solid. The Kwon family is complicated but you’re used to complicated (Eunbi wasn’t exaggerating comparing it to Game of Thrones, only unlike the show you’ve produced a better ending).

By Saturday, you’ve outlined a restructuring plan that will save them approximately twelve million dollars in tax liability while keeping the various cousins from actively murdering each other.

“Impressive,” Minjun says when you present it. “You work fast.”

“I had good information to work with.”

“My daughter said you’d be modest.” He signs the retainer agreement with a flourish. “She also said you were more interesting than you let on. I’m inclined to agree.”

You fly back to Tokyo that evening. Eunbi sees you off at the airport.

“Thank you,” you tell her. “For all of it.”

“Don’t thank me. This is business.” But she smiles when she says it. “Figure out your ghost, Hinode-san. Then call me.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then you’ll have a very successful consulting career and a string of mediocre relationships.” She kisses your cheek. “But I don’t think that’s what you want.”

Your phone buzzes between you. Eunbi glances at the screen automatically. So do you.

Kim Jiwoo · Seoul Financial Review

“The Polaris journalist,” Eunbi says. “I know her.”

“She’s been emailing for weeks.”

“About Ishikawa?”

“About something else, she keeps saying. I haven’t found out what.”

Eunbi looks at you. Says nothing. Files the information away the way you’ve watched her file every other piece of information about you all week.

She walks away before you can respond.

Your flight lands at Narita at 8PM. You take the train home. Climb the stairs to your apartment.

The door is unlocked.

You know who’s waiting before you even step inside.

But when you open the door, what you find stops you cold.

Tsuki is on your couch. Same position as before. Same book in her hands.

She’s completely naked.

Every inch of her exposed. Pale skin glowing in the lamplight. Those full breasts you’ve only glimpsed before. The curve of her waist, the swell of her hips.

She doesn’t look up from the book.

Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“Welcome home, Aki-kun,” she says. “We need to talk.”

You don’t react. But you’ve never seen her hesitate. Three weeks of texts. Two encounters: the hotel and your apartment. The corridor. And you’ve never seen her need a second to find a word.

You don’t say anything about it.

You don’t think she noticed.

You stand in the doorway, frozen, unable to look away.

“Close the door, Akihiro-kun.” She finally looks up. Those flat, dark eyes. That dangerous smile. “You’re letting the cold in.”

✦✦⟡⟡⟡⟡

“Can you like… stay fucking still??” She hissed as she firmly squeezed your wrist, holding it right above her palm.

She was hunched over your hand. Her face was obstructed by locks of her bob, so close to your fingers you could feel the soft warmth of her breath coursing through them. Her gaze was fixed on your nails while she drew perfect, deliberate strokes on them.

She was doing nail art, on your nails. Not that it hurt your masculinity or anything—in fact, you had always liked how she did her nails. It was just that it was the first time she’d asked you to be her “guinea pig” for her designs. Well, “asked” was putting it too nicely. She had practically kidnapped you out of your 67th play through of Baldur’s Gate III. Though, for someone who ran a nail art shop—a side hustle, as she’d always corrected you—it was ridiculous that somehow she had run out of practice tips.

“You know you have your own nails, right?” you said, earning yourself another squeeze, her sharp nails now digging into your wrist. Heh, fortunate you were masochistic enough for the pain. Hell, the wincing from your bitten lower lip could’ve been mistaken for a moan had she not been so focused on drawing the final stroke.

“I hope you stub your toes, actually” she said, rolling her eyes as she applied the final coatings. “I told you I ran out of rounded tips. I’ve done my nails already, and you just happened to have… neatly clipped nails, ‘kay?”

“You could always ask Jiwoo to come over,” you shrugged.

“And let you ogle at my girlfriend again? No thank you, perv.” She scoffed, doing a final check, admiring her brand new design.

She carefully brought both of your hands into the UV machine. “And as much as I wanna nail my girlfriend,” she looked up expectantly before turning on the machine, checking to see if you’d misinterpreted her words. And of course, you were putting on the most annoying grin ever. “Her nails are usually long. Not only that, she’s also currently away.” The UV light cast upon your fingers as she pressed the power button. “And this is a practice anyway. Soo… I don’t wanna mess up her nails, if I were to mess up.”

“So if you mess me up, that is okay?”

She crossed her arms on the desk, grinning so smugly it was so obvious to her “Why else would I drag you here, bozo?”

“To… ogle at your girlfriend’s girlfriend?” you said, so lightly you started to wonder how come she hadn’t kicked you out yet for being so down bad for her for the longest time.

“Ha, ha. Don’t even need to drag you along with me when you’re fucking ogling me all the time.” She rolled her eyes distastefully, yet somehow endearingly. “You’re lucky you somehow happened to be my bestest friend—”

“With benefits?”

“—of high quality nail art, that is.” she said, putting on a mocking smile, flexing her nails centimeters away from your face.

“Unfortunately…” Your gaze shifted from her decorated nails to her obstructed face across her fingers. “They are really, really cool though. You know I love them all.”

“See? You can be somewhat nice.” She threw her hands up as she leaned back on her chair, quite taken aback by your genuine compliment. “Is it really so hard to appreciate your home girl’s work, instead of her body all the time?”

“Can’t help it,” you shrugged innocently, as if it was normal to begin with. You were lucky indeed she was also weird like that. “So… how long does this usually take?” You looked back at your illuminated fingers under the violet light.

“Couple minutes tops.” she says dismissively, opening her phone to check on her girlfriend.

“You’re taking my sweet sweet time from finishing the game, y’know?”

“Sweet time my ass, you’re still in Act 1, save scumming tryna steal Voss’ Sword for HOURS! IT’S YOUR 67th PLAYTHROU-” She cut her own words off to catch a minuscule movement of your hands. She dropped her phone and immediately halted your hands before you could even attempt to pull them out.

Oh, how she knew you very, very dearly.

“Nooo you are NOT doing the 67 HAND THINGY, KEEP YOUR HANDS IN!! HOW OLD ARE YOU??”

“Old enough… according to Miss JiU next door.” you grinned ever so smugly with such confidence, name-dropping the MILF next door the two of you had been thirsting over ever since moving in.

“She is such a MILF isn’t she… yeah….” Her mind instantly got distracted, wandering off to the resident MILF. Then, it dawned on her. She shook off the thoughts to fully process what you’d just said. “W-wait… YOU’RE FLIRTING WITH HER?”

“Jealous much?”

“Nah, with that behavior of yours? Highly unbelievable actually.” She leaned forward mockingly, her arms crossed on the desk.

“AckSHualLy ☝️🤓… I’m only like this when I’m with you, bestie <3” you winked.

“Okay, gross.” She cringed. “Sweet, but gross.”

“I have always been sweet, what is you talm bout.”

“You have been, weirdly, INAPPROPRIATELY sweet—even for your standards, which are in hell. If I were dense, I wouldn’t have noticed the pattern that you want something.” She said, her eyes suspiciously narrowing.

“I suppose I am deserving of a small form of gratitude for being your… object of interest today, my Lady.”

“Disinterest, actu-” she shot her eyes out before you could even air out another AckSHualLy. She sighed. “But fine, whaddya want, my… Unbecoming Lord?”

“Let’s just say I happened to have uhh… other rounded tip you can practice on too. Would that be of your interest as well, madame?”

“You’re saying you want me to prick your dick with the brush, 2 kids 1 sandbox style??” That was a deep cut, literally.

“YOU’RE OOLLLD”

“SO ARE YOU!!! So keep your dick to yourself… eugh.” Her eyes drifted back to her phone as it was vibrating.

Jiwoo sent a video.

She stood up, moving from her chair to her bed just behind it, sitting on the edge.

The play button still unpressed—she didn’t even need to. She could tell it was a spicy one just by looking at the blurred thumbnail, filled with colors akin to Jiwoo’s skin tone.

This has gotta be the worst timing ever, she thought. But truly, she blamed herself. She couldn’t possibly be mad at her girlfriend for sending a spicy video, nor could she blame the timing, for she had been so fucking horny for the past week since Jiwoo left for a work trip.

She glanced at you. Then back to her phone.

You again, then back.

Her eyes resorted to her fingers, though with such pity. Her own fingers hadn’t been doing it for her the past few days, not to mention she currently had sharp nails on.

Then she looked up at you once again, lost in thought, probably thinking of another multi-class combo.

I’m going fucking crazy, she cursed herself. I can’t possibly be even considering this mf…

“... Unless…” her heart skipped a beat. Her body acted faster than her mind. She was desperately horny.

“Am listening…” You locked the fuk in.

“Unless you’re the very last person on earth. Then, I’d consider it.”

“CONSIDER??? Girl you’d be fucking no one but me.”

“No, I meant it when I say you’re the very last person on earth. I’d kill myself before we even—”

Fuck, she cursed. That was somewhat a nice save, but her last sentence? She’d be lying to herself knowing she was actually considering you. But time was crueler still, never sparing her, as the alarm on her phone rang, forcing her to nod at you, beckoning you to come.

“Sooyoung-ah…” You towered her, showing off the finished result to her face. “These are fucking rad.”

“I know.” She held your hands, pulling them slightly to observe the details, while you, instinctively, knelt before her lap, resting your arms on her thighs.

She grabbed her phone to take pictures of your nails, another masterpiece added to her catalog.

As she angled her phone for the final pic, she saw you through the screen.

On your knees.

Between her legs.

Your elbows positioned off her shorts, touching her bare exposed thi-

“You done?” you interrupted her tweaking, tilting your head into view of her screen.

“Y-yeah…” She shook her head, then took the final picture.

She reviewed every picture attentively. Her thumb tapped in to zoom, then swiped onto the next pic every other second. She kept swiping and swiping, even after the final pic, she didn’t keep track of how many she’d taken, and it happened.

Jiwoo’s video slid into view of her screen.

That’s it.

“Ookaayy… I’m keeping these on, by the way. Lowkirkenuinely sick af.”

I can’t hold it anymore.

“Uuuh… Sooyoung?”

I’m so sorry, Chagiya.

“I’ll… Leave it to you then… Hope it sells a fuck ton tho.”

Before you could even stand up properly, she held you down. Her grip firm on your shoulder, pinning you onto the floor.

You were preparing for the worst. You did pull your hand out from the machine once to scratch your balls when she wasn’t looking. Well, at least that’s what you’d thought, perhaps she had seen you after all, and now you were so fucked.

“S-sooyoung-ah… I-” You looked up to her.

“Shut up.”

“A man has his needs… And I needed to sc-”

“Exactly. And I have mine too.” She stared down at you.

“huH……. You have a girl dih??” Your eyebrows shot up through the roof, and you were down for whatever she had down there.

“W-what??? Well, I kinda wish,” she recoiled before taking your query thoughtfully for a second, “but no, what the fuck are you talking about??” She groaned at your stupid question. But despite that, she sighed—not at you, but at her own resignation to temptation.

You would do.

“Anyways…” she finally pressed the play button. “Jiwoo’s been away.”

Heavy breathing.

“W-what is this……”

Faint squelching.

“And my fingers not doing it as of late.”

Soft whimpers.

“So, I’m giving you this one chance...”

A sudden sharp moan.

“... Of…?” You asked.

Then came a soft feminine voice, calling out to… Sooyoung??

“To…” She hesitated, but eventually broke off her own shackles… kinda. “K-… kiss my… kitty…”

“… But, we don’t have a kit-”

“MY PUSSY GOD DAMMIT!” She yelled as she grabbed the hem of her shorts and pushed them down off her legs, together with her panties. Her movement was ragged and desperate, her legs kicking you off your balance, your elbow propping you up on the floor.

And there you had it.

For years you had been so down bad for the hottest woman you’d ever known. No visual cues, hints, or even reciprocal teasing that’d lead to anything. Somehow life was worth living again, as now Ha Sooyoung, your lifelong hot best friend, had her kitty out in the open, mere centimeters away from your senses.

“Oh… THAT kitty….”

“Yes, this kitty…”

Her face was lush red, both embarrassed and horned tf out. She gathered all her courage, and with a groan, she said. “Let’s just say this is your reward for… whatever reason.” She scoffed. “Tch, my girlfriend just sent a video of her fingering the fuck out of her pussy, and I’ve been horny af for the past week, and I wanna touch myself but my fingers not cutting it anymore.” She sighed. “Look, just fucking eat me while I watch my girlfriend finger herself.”

All your down bad comments towards her, your teasing—all of them just gone. Nothing in your life could’ve prepared you for all that. You tried to process the series of words she’d just said, especially the last one. She was asking you to eat her out, WHILE she watched her girlfriend screw herself??? You didn’t even know if you were being a cuck or if Sooyoung was just being sinfully unfaithful—maybe even both. But none of that mattered anymore when you were rock hard, mouth agape, still fixated on her pussy with Jiwoo’s moaning in the background.

You gently wrapped your arms around her thighs from below, you were so close to her pussy you could breathe in her musk doing you like crack. It was dripping, through the tendrils of her well-kept bush. Not that it bothered you—somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice definitely yours said Even better. The hem of her black tank top rode up, your eyes tracked the soft thin happy trail up to her exposed navel, then eventually you met her flushed gaze from above. You could never be happier in life, being put in place by your hot lesbian home girl.

“Y-you sure about this…?”

Her left hand ran through your hair, grasping what she could palm. You could feel her desperation in her nails poking your scalp, while the other held the moaning device for her to watch.

“Just fucking eat me, bozo.”

And so you did, unleash the beast.

You kissed her kitty—though not the way you’d kiss a real kitty, obviously. You ate her like you hadn’t eaten for weeks. You ran your tongue in laps and laps all over her pussy as if cleaning her girl juice off, replacing it with your own saliva. She tasted nothing like the countless 2AM sessions in your head (and hand). She tasted miles better, intoxicating as you breathed her in, the folds and crevices felt like they’d been perfectly sculpted for your tongue to slip into.

But that was putting your hunger too nicely.

It was more like you were in a biology exam with a blindfold on, mapping out her pussy with your tongue and trying to answer what part, what flesh or folds of her pussy it was. But the best part was, you didn’t know shit about biology.

You swirled around her clit, then sucked it with such suction you were basically slurping on it. Congratulations—you earned yourself a guttural moan from her. She started slow, but eventually rode your face, finding the right answer—which you weren’t going to spit out to begin with.

“F-fuck… Chagiya…” She moaned, her eyes totally fixated on Jiwoo’s sticky fingers pumping into her pussy.

Well, that wasn’t your name, but it was now. You were standing in for a lesbian with supple tits and the most God-sent DSL apparently. Was it cuck-ish? Kinda. You’d argue Jiwoo was the cuck, considering you were the one eating Sooyoung. But that was beside the point, and the point being how Sooyoung wasn’t even complaining or bullying you for your tongue game. Knowing her, she would’ve bullied you for the most nothing-burger reason ever, and honestly, she might’ve been for the past few minutes. But you wouldn’t have heard it anyway, all you could still hear were both of them moaning, though faintly, due to her plush thighs suffocating you from both sides. You could feel all the pressure of her grasping hand from above, all around your head, wrapped between her legs.

She’s fucking enjoying this, you patted your ego in the back.

Your tongue game matched that of a lesbian eating a pussy. Your ego blasted off the roof, you’d successfully masked yourself as Jiwoo, with a rock-hard cock down under, that is.

Jiwoo with a cock.

Jiwoo with a cock? Jiwoock??

That didn’t sound bad at all, actually. But you were Jiwoo now—did that count as self-cest? You’d been given a chance to be in heaven—that was, Ha Sooyoung’s pussy—and you were still thinking of another girl with a cock. By Merlin’s beard, you were greedy.

You grew bolder as your left hand slithered up, roaming on her flat tummy, which you’d cummed on multiple times in your dreams. Meanwhile, your right hand was in the rightest place of all, slipping under her tank top to join forces with her own hand groping her tits.

“You’re not allowed to be this— Aah…!” You squeezed her nipple. “F-fucking go~od!” She finally referred to you for the first time in minutes. Not Jiwoo, you. Thank God it wasn’t self-cest after all.

She looked ungodly above you. Darker spots of moisture started wetting her top. She was still holding up her phone, her arm pinned high, perfectly exposing a small, tantalizing opening of her right armpit to your view from below. Your eyes greedily tracked down all beads of sweat trickling down from her flushed forehead and neck, pooling right at the delicate, sensitive hollow at the base of her arm. She is swelteringly sweating. It was so damp you could literally see small reflection from the room lighting gleaming off her slick skin.

The intoxicating musk of her raw sweat mixed with her arousal sending a feral jolt straight to your broin—brain and groin. A thick bead of sweat trailed down the soft crease, soaking the trim of her tank top’s armhole. Your mouth practically watered along with her wetness, down dripping on the floor. You stared at the glistening textured folds of the hollow, a degenerate, desperate, pathetic thought crossed your mind.

Maybe, if you ate her out hard enough, she would actually indulge your sickly, filthy fantasy on her.

So you nuzzled her clit as you buried your face deeper. But not as deep as your tongue, working inside her pussy so hard she crossed her calves behind your neck, locking and pulling you deeper in her pussy. Suddenly, death by suffocation didn’t sound bad at all.

Though as much as Sooyoung loved getting fucked by your… no, Jiwoo’s? Nah, it was your tongue—she needed something more. Something that could reach deeper, something more rigid. And she could only think of your digits, for now.

So her wish was your command.

You trailed your left hand down to her mound, stopping right on her clit. You’d dreamed about this. Numerous times you had sacrificed enough sleepless nights jacking off while writing about rubbing one out for Ha Sooyoung. But somehow your fingers worked her clit with way too much care in contrast to the beast, that was your tongue. They were stiff, careful, and definitely not sensual at all. So you switched up the strategy.

You were now back to sucking her clit while your fingers down there hesitantly rubbed, and rubbed, and rubbed. You knew how to finger a woman—you had seen videos, read fan fics, and pretty sure this wasn’t your first rodeo with a woman. You were being awkward af.

Then, it hit you. You still got your nails on. You really didn’t want to ruin it, you actually liked her design and genuinely appreciate the art. You really wished you had Mage Hand right now, on second thought that’d actually be so hot. But again, that was beside the point, you had a better question. Is it even safe…?

Sooyoung noticed, of course she did.

“The fuck… Are you doing…?” She said, in the middle of her panting.

You pull off your tongue out of her pussy, your lips smothered by her girl juice. “It’s… Been a while, y’know?” You reasoned weakly.

“No shit. Somehow your foul mouth works better in my pussy than your neat fingers.” Backhanded as it was, you took half the compliment to your ego. “You never touched a woman before??”

“I have-!”

“Eaten a woman? Yeah, I can tell. But your finger game lacking so bad omg you’re ruining the mood!” She yelled, her brows furrowed as she glared at you intensely from above, and of course your ass only got hornier seeing her angry like this.

“I-… I don’t wanna mess up my nails, okay!?”

You could see a faint blush on her cheeks. Despite her blazing arousal, she was genuinely flattered that you actually cared that much about her work.

“I-it won’t mess ‘em up!” she argued, reaching down to grab your wrist.

“Is it even safe???” you hesitated. As much as you wanted to ruin her, you didn’t want to actually make her sick or anything.

“YES!”

“How would you know?”

“… Grok.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I’m fucking kidding!” She let out an exasperated laugh, her nails digging firmly into your wrist. “I’m a nail artist, dumb ass! I WOULD KNOW.”

She let her phone slip from her grasp, tumbling onto the messy sheets to her right, though you could still hear Jiwoo’s soft moaning hands free. She twisted your freshly painted digits, angling it directly against her soaking entrance.

“So, shut up,”

She didn’t even give you a chance to argue. With a firm, determined pull of your arm, she forcefully thrust two of your fingers deep inside herself.

“And stop thinking about your nails.”

So you did.

At this point, you were sure your pre-cum was already wetting your boxers just from the extremely lewd, shattered moan ripped from her throat the second your fingers cave in. But alas, you let go of your restraint completely. Fuck your nail, literally. You curled your fingers and drove them deep into her core. She could feel the smooth, cold surface of your freshly cured nails rushing along the slick of her soaking walls. You fell into a ruthless rhythm, thrusting and curling your knuckles upward against her sweet spot relentlessly like it was a button mashing Quick Time Event, all while your tongue kept its starving, aggressive assault on her swollen clit.

“F-fuck! God, y/n!” Sooyoung shrieked, her back arching off the mattress, she was seeing stars.

At last, she succumbed to you. She lost it the moment she found it fucking hot seeing you under her mercy like a dog. She had completely forgotten about who she was fantasizing on her knees. The last remaining remnant of Jiwoo was the moaning on her phone she’d discarded next to her face. It was a man, only you, her perverted gooner best friend between her thighs giving her the best oral she had ever gotten.

Her hips bucking against your fingers while she threw both her hands up, grasping the sheets above her head. She was basically presenting herself to you. With a loud slurp on her clit, you started trailing wet kisses up her happy trail, tasting the sweat up pass her navel, to the hem of her tank top just below her tits. Her small under boobs peaked just enough to get you riled up even more. With your free hand you took her top off.

You had seen her braless in a thin see through shirt before, you swore if someone were to ask where exactly her nipples are placed, you’d know it by heart. But seeing her fully topless like this was just a whole another level. You squeezed it with your free hand, earning another italic moan from her. Sure, she wasn’t as well endowed as your ex Hyeju. But you couldn’t care less.

Tits are tits, and man’s gotta eat.

Your tongue hit first, swish and flicking around her light brown nipple. With a firm squeeze of your hand, you sucked on it hard you were practically milking the fuck out of her.

“Harder!” She arched her back, catching your mouth.

“Which one?” You asked as you lightly grazed her nipple with your teeth, slightly biting on it.

“HnnGHh~ FUCK!” She howled. “Both, fucker.”

“Say less.” You upped your fingers tempo, more ragged and messy, while your mouth switch between her tits sloppily, covering them with your saliva.

Then it was time.

Your free hand pinned hers above as you dragged your tongue from her left tit, upwards, not to her neck nor collarbone, but the sensitive, glistening armpit. Your tongue glided along the axis, lapping all the sweat pooled at the now fully exposed hollow.

Sooyoung flinched, a sharp gasp ripping from her throat.

“Wait—what the fuck??” she shrieked, her body squirming against your hold. She looked down at you lavishing her armpit, her face burning, humiliated red. “EW, Y/N, STOP! That’s mmngHh~ disgusting! I haven’t showered all fucking day!”

She tried to twist her arm away from your pinning, glaring at you with a mix of genuine disgust and a newfound arousal. “You’re a fucking FREAK oh my G~od!”

But you paid her no mind, her protests fading into the background beneath the deafening, wet slurping of your own depravity. You definitely rolled a NAT 20 today. You had always secretly loved how she smelled every morning you passed by her at the kitchen counter. Since it was a lazy holiday afternoon after all, meaning she had no plans, home all day, there was absolutely no need for her to put on any deodorants or perfume. So the Unwashed status effect multiplied to her natural pheromones, and having her arm pinned securely above her head gave her an automatic Disadvantage on all Strength saving throws. And it left you with a 100% guaranteed hit chance to feast upon the raw, unfiltered, intoxicating musk that was uniquely her.

So you took full advantage of her debuff completely. You nuzzled your nose into the damp skin as you dragged your wet tongue deeper into her sensitive hollow, meticulously mapping out the topography of her underarm like a starved explorer. You could literally feel the delicate texture as your tongue pushing ruthlessly into every tiny, slick crevice and fold, slurping obscenely, savoring the sharp, salty tang of the raw moisture straight out of her pores.

Her disgusted remarks now fractured into breathy, needy whine. Her pinned arm went limp, fingers twitching helplessly on the mattress. She couldn’t help but get aroused by your weird kink.

“F-fuck… You’re so gross.” She whimpered, her voice cracking.

Contrast to her own insult, her free arm suddenly flew, wrapping tightly around the back of your head. Her fingers tangled deeply into your hair, nails pricking your scalp, forcefully shoving you deeper into the damp hollow, smothering you in her raw musk, all while her hips subconsciously bucked harder against your fingers still relentlessly plowing her soaking core.

“Oh my God…” She sobbed out. “Don’t stop.”

She was finally close. You could feel the tension in her thighs, her walls inside tightening, trapping your fingers like that one scene in A New Hope as she desperately chased her climax.

You were both entirely preoccupied, blissfully lost in the filthy, undeniable sin you were committing on this God-forsaken mattress. But you felt something missing from all of this.

You consented to this, she definitely consented to this.

Then it dawned on you. You asked yourself, isn’t there somebody you forgot to ask?

“I don’t!” Time said, ever so cruel.

The screen of her phone lit up brightly, cutting off the spicy video that was somehow still looping after what it felt like 30 minutes, with a deafening, obnoxious ringtone.

“Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!“

You froze.

You heard it right, you couldn’t possibly mistake it. It wasn’t the generic default ringtone of any normal device. It wasn’t as if the writer didn’t know how phones ring—they definitely knew exactly what a default iOS or Android ringtone sounded like.

No, this was definitely a targeted assault on the reader. The writer had specifically chosen to ruin it with the 2013 viral electronic dance hit “What Does the Fox Say” by Ylvis.

“Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!“ the phone blasted at max volume from the messy sheets, obliterating the filthy tension between the two of you.

Incoming Call: Jiwoo

“SHIT!” Sooyoung hissed.

With sheer panic, she violently shoved you off your balance. You tumbled backward off the mattress, hitting the floor with a hard thud, bruising your elbows.

“What the fu—”

“SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up, shut up.” she frantically shush-ed you. She scrambled to sit upright, cleared her hoarse throat, and accepted Jiwoo’s call on loud speaker.

“H-heeyy… Chagiya!” Sooyoung answered, her voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Heyy… Are you… Okaay?” Jiwoo’s sweet, concerned voice echoed through the now quiet room. “I was just… Worried. I sent you the video like half an hour ago and you haven’t replied since. Was it a bad time…? I’m so so—”

“NO!” Sooyoung even startled herself. She cleared her throat again. “I mean, yeah! I saw it! It was… Great!” She stammered. Her pants ragged, chest still heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. “There is… Absolutely nothing wrong. I was just… Busy!”

There was something so hot the way she referred to both your uncouth shenanigans as busy.

Heh, busy? I’ll show you busy

A mischievous, wicked grin stretched across your face. You got back on your knees, moving right back between her dangling legs off the edge of the bed. Sooyoung’s eyes widened in horror as she realized exactly what you were about to do. She glared down at you, silently mouthing “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Despite her glaring, her legs didn’t show any sign of restraint or fight as you spread it wide open once again. You leaned in and aggressively buried your face right back to where it belonged, Ha Sooyoung’s soaking, edging core.

Sooyoung jolted, her spine snapping straight. Her free hand flew up, slapping it over her mouth to hold her squealing. But of course, that wasn’t enough to contain the pleasure in from her phone.

“Chagiya…?” Jiwoo’s concerned voice now had a slight suspiciously teasing tone to it. “Are you… Out of brea—”

“NO!” Sooyoung forced out an answer through her gritting teeth. Her knuckles gripping the phone turned white as you swirled your tongue mercilessly, slurping her dripping folds. “I just… Dropped something!”

There was a moment of silence on Jiwoo’s end of the line. Then, a soft, incredibly sweet giggle echoed from her line.

“Chagiya… Are you…? Are you touching yourself to my video right now??” Jiwoo teased, her tone completely shifted playfully.

Sooyoung was in absolute chaos. She was terrified of getting caught, but the sheer thrill of her girlfriend unknowingly listening to her get eaten out by her bestie was too much for her to handle. She wanted to deny it, push you away and end whatever the fuck this was. But her body betrayed her completely, and so did her mind, consumed by the unfaithful arousal.

“… Perchance…”

“Oh my God!” You could hear Jiwoo’s laughing echoed through the room. “But it was only like one half a minute video! Were you looping it? You’ve been gooning to me this whole time?”

“Yeah… You, only you!” Oh how fired up you were listening to Sooyoung’s lies.

“You wanna kiss my kitty so bad hmm? Want me to kiss yours too?” Jiwoo teased, which Sooyoung could only give an agreeing moan as an answer. Ah, so this where the kitty kissing came from, you thought.

The absolute, catastrophic irony of the situation messed up your already messed up broin. You were eating the fuck out of Sooyoung’s pussy, while Jiwoo gave gooning instruction to her … And you? At this point, it worked both ways for Sooyoung and you. Of course, you wanted in too like yeah you wanna kiss Jiwoo’s kitty too. Now you and Sooyoung both were gooning to Jiwoo. This is so weird and fucking hot, you both thought respectively.

“So I was interrupting your gooning! Were you close, Chagiya?” God, Jiwoo’s cute giggle was so out of place yet her husky tone right now was so right.

“Mhmm…” Sooyoung whimpered, her fingers messing up your hair as your tongue relentlessly lapped her folds.

“Then tell me.” Jiwoo’s voice grew even huskier. “Tell me what you would have me do, if I was right, there. On the bed. With you. Tell me, Chagiya…”

You could see the massive lump going down Sooyoung’s throat. She turned her eyes to you as you greedily slurped her core. Unfortunately fortunate, she was just as fucked up as you. A wicked, fucked up idea sparked into life within her.

She didn’t even have to use her imagination, when she had you on her kitty.

“I’d want you… to spread my thighs,” she breathed heavily into the phone, live reporting your exact movements, word for word. “I want your face buried in my pussy… Swirling your tongue right on my clit… Sucking on it so ha~ard I can’t eve- Aah! Breathe!”

“Hmmm yeah… What else?” Jiwoo urged for more, her own breath hitching.

You smirked against Sooyoung’s wetness. You were more than happy to put on a live… Show? Podcast? Smut audio book for Jiwoo? Hell, whatever this was, you were nailing your role. But a stagnant, repetitive narration would only bore the audience. You had to be creative, feed more narration into Sooyoung, keep the audience entertained, you had to be the star.

So you flip the script.

You pulled your face off of her dripping slit and with firm grips under her thighs, you lifted her legs upward, exposing an entirely new different map. Sooyoung’s brows furrowed in confusion, she was positioned as if she was trying to give birth to electro pop.

And before she could even ask, you dragged down your soaked tongue from her pussy, then pressed it firmly onto the concave surface of her musky tight, puckered rim that was her asshole.

Sooyoung violently jolted you could feel her entire body shudder. “HNGH— FUUUUCKKK!” she shrieked, the unfiltered, no audio gate, soul-leaving-the-body kind of shriek. Her free hand flew up, grasping the sheets hard. Nothing in her life could’ve prepared her for an ass eating, they didn’t teach her about this in school. Her face burned aflame, mortified as you stared right back beneath her. She really didn’t want to narrate this newfound arousal, but she had to. She had to commit to the bit.

“I… I want...” She took the sheet to cover up her burning face as she shamefully confessed. “I want you to go lower…”

“L-lower…?”

“Yeah…” She whimpered, her hips bucking deliberately as you pushed the tip of your tongue into her tight pucker. “I want you to lick my ass…”

Another brief silence on the other end of the line. You could imagine Jiwoo’s stun locked face by Sooyoung’s confession.

“Wai-… Wha-… Really??” Jiwoo squeaked, Sooyoung’s confession completely rendered her off guard. “You… You want me to rim you…? Well, I… I never done it but… Since when are you into that?!”

“N-now??”

“I… I don’t know what to say!” She let out breathless laugh. “I mean, I would do it if you want to, Chagiya~” Her tone shifted back into that husky whisper.

That was it. That was your entry for Best Directing at the Academy Awards.

Jiwoo’s green light was basically a “Yes I will, in fact, eat ass.” for you, it was now lore accurate. With another swish and flick of your tongue, and her lower back literally levitating off the mattress, giving you unrestricted access to lap and scoop all the tangy, bitter sweat and musk. Professor Flitwick would be proud of you.

You flattened your tongue, made it rigid, and deliberately, you forcefully thrust the tip straight pass her puckered ring. It was incredibly, very, very tight. But Thank God your tongue was already warmed up and practically ripped the fuck up from the earlier biology exam. So you pushed through as hard as you possibly, physically could, essentially tongue fucking her dirty hole in a wet, filthy rhythm.

But then, you decided that the layer of filth was not enough for the climax.

So you added another.

While your tongue was busy violating her asshole, you brought your old friends, brother and sister finger, right back into the frame. You drove them straight back into her core, thrusting upward, pumping them against her sweet spot while perfectly in sync with the brutal movement of your tongue.

“Ch-chagiya—!” Sooyoung sobbed, she couldn’t even stand a chance, the double stimulation on both her holes rendered her overwhelmingly devastated. Her phone slipped and tumbled onto the mattress again as she grabbed fistfuls of your hair. “I’m— FUCK!”

Her spine arched so high and her trembling thighs clamped down aggressively, suffocating you in the splash zone.

Then, the dam finally broke.

She upcast Climax with a level 6 spell slot, her core convulsing as she flooded your hand with her release. She came so fucking hard that her spasming inside crushed your fingers, forcing them to slip out with a wet pop, drenching your face with her sweet, sticky girl juice.

“D-did you just… I never heard you cum that hard…” Jiwoo’s voice stunned from the discarded phone. “Maybe I should eat your ass when I go back home…”

“You… Should, Chagiya… T-thanks?” Sooyoung said out of breath, still coming down from her high.

“Anything for my baby apple <3 We’ll try it out next week~”

The call finally ended.

After you licked her sensitive pussy clean, you crawled over her on all fours. You both stared each other, flushed and exhausted. You licked your lips, wiping the last remaining of her cum as you put that smug grin back on your face.

“You’re… You’re fucking crazy…” She panted.

“You’re crazy too.”

“Armpits?? Really…??”

“Yeah… Really.”

“That was…” All of a sudden, she felt conscious of her armpit still sticky from your saliva earlier. “Fuck… I also can’t believe you ate my ass while— Tch, JIWOO WAS ON THE CALL!”

“And you fucking loved it.”

“Th-… That’s beside the point!” She blushed, she couldn’t deny how hot it was for her too. “Not a fucking word to her, you hear me??” She grabbed a fistful of your shirt.

Then, she felt her wetness in her palm, she had forgotten how hard she came, she didn’t realize she soaked your shirt. Her eyes then trailed down your whole body and stopped at the protruding relief on your pants, you were still completely clothed and hard. She scoffed, looking away from your face above. Then, with a deep sigh, she finally gave in.

With all the strength she had left, she shoved you to the side. The room lighting cast over her from above, she set the scene so fucking good as she was now on top of you, you could still see the glistening sweat, your drying saliva and her cum on her backlit body.

“I suppose… You deserve a reward.” Her hands scrambled to unbutton your pants.

“I thought that earlier was the reward?”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to go full on glizzy overdrive??” She let go the hem of your pants. “Fine.” She said dismissively.

“WAIT!” You instantly grabbed her before she could get off of you. “Hehe, please commence glizzy overdrive.”

She rolled her eyes as she got off the bed, getting on her knees and with a firm pull, she took off your pants and boxer altogether.

For the first time, she finally took witness of your cock, standing proud, towering her flushed face. She was expecting it to be disgusting, or ugly given to her preference. But the sheer size of your cock rendered her into a loading state you could see the clogs working in her mind, calculating the size of it compared to her face.

“Holy fuck…?” she said in awe.

“Nothing we done this afternoon has been hol-.”

“You’re fucking huge!” she cut you, her face shocked, with a spice of concern of her well-being as images of your cock if it were to get inside of her flooded her mind.

“Aw, you don’t have to sa-”

“NO LIKE… You’re HUGE huge…!” She reiterated, bringing her arm into frame. “It’s almost as big as my arm!!”

She hesitated, her expression was a mix of disgust and curiosity. But eventually, she reached for your cock. Her touch was hesitant, nails grazing along your length. She then tried wrapping her fingers but her index couldn’t even meet her thumb around the diameter. It felt painfully hard, like literally, you were holding it in for what it felt like a whole day. And considering the sun setting by the window, you were probably right.

“I literally can’t wrap my hand around it.” She said dumbfounded.

You sit up straight, and your dream came true.

Ha Sooyoung on her knees, holding your hard wet cock, ready to suck the life out of you.

You admired the ungodly sight for a tad bit too long, you were woken up by her squeeze on your shaft.

“Eugh… Just so you know, I never done this, obviously.” She started stroking half of your length with such distaste. “Is this fine?”

“Hmmnggh… A bit faster…” You moaned.

So she tried, her best at least.

As much as you want to bully her for her stroking game, you really, really needed this. This was literally the dream, you wouldn’t want her to leave you blue balled just because you were teasing her all the time. Though, eventually she caught onto a steady rhythm, her small hand pumping your length with just enough pressure, and surprisingly good grip. You threw your head back with a groan.

“Fucking perv.” She sneered. “You dreamed about this, huh?”

“Yeah…” You confessed so lightly, completely shameless. “Every night.”

She scoffed at your raw confession, rolling her eyes in exaggerated annoyance. But despite her protests, she applied more agonizing pressure to her strokes, her sharp nails would lightly graze against your throbbing length every one or two pumps.

“What a freak, jerking off to your best friend…” she mocked, leaning in closer as if she was inspecting the disgusting rod she were never interested in at first.

At first.

Fuck.

She paused her pumping. Her face was mere centimeters away, and as her bare chest heaved, she breathed in the musk radiating off your cock. Something about your musk just put her in a trance as she felt the shudders running along her body.

This is fucked.

Slowly, but hesitantly, she parted her glossy lips and stuck her tongue out. She pressed her flattened tongue to the base of your shaft and dragged it in one long, agonizingly slow lick all the way up to your tip, lapping up the dripping pre-cum from your slit.

She pulled back, her eyes widened in deep regret.

Not because it was gross—well, it was still gross for her, but she actually, highkey liked how you tasted.

She couldn’t believe what she was feeling. The sharp, salty tang of your hour long arousal completely turned something on within her. At this point, her cheeks were toast by how many times she had gone red. She lost the plot. She was supposed to be disgusted by your cock, but now it looks so disgustingly delicious I wanna swallow it whol— WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME.

Before she hastily wiped her lips with the back of her hand, she glared up at you with masked arousal. You were utterly, pathetically desperate for her, and God he looks so pathetic I love it, she thought.

Fuck it all.

“You’re lucky I’m your best friend, perv.” she purred, deliberately, slowly licking the remaining slick off her glossy lips as she resumed her stroking.

“Can’t help it when you walk around half-naked around the place all the time” you countered.

“Oh, so it’s my fault you’re a fucking degenerate??” She squeezed harder, her voice dark yet clearly she turned on by your candidness. “No wonder I heard someone calling my name every other night, I thought this place was haunted. It was you after all, huh? Whining my name while you stroked this stupid, fucking massive thing.”

“Fuck… Yes… Sooyoung please—”

“Please what?”

“Suck my— Agh!” you hissed as she grazed her sharp nail along your slit.

“Hm? Can’t hear you.” She teased, letting out a breathy, arrogant laugh.

“Fuck you.”

“Hmph, you wish.” She smirked, deliberately misconstrued your cursing. “Beg for i—”

“Please please pleeasseee, suck my cock, Ha Sooyoung I’M TIRED OF JACKING OFF TO YOUR PICS EVERY DAY PLEASE JUST LET ME HAVE ONE CHANCE.”

…

Dead silence.

The sheer, unadulterated weight of your pathetic preaching hung heavily in the air. Sooyoung stopped her stroking on your shaft, her eyes went wide, blinking almost comedically as she tried to process the absolute all time low of your dignity.

For a moment, you thought you pushed it too far.

That was, until her lips twitched, followed by a snort, then immediately a full-chested laugh that shook her entire system. She laughed so fucking hard she collapsed against your thigh, completely obliterating her composure for a brief moment.

“Oh… My fucking God.” she wheezed, wiping her teary eyes. “I knew you were pathetic, but I didn’t know you were THIS pathetic.”

She let out another breathless giggle, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, with a sigh, she went back to your towering erection. She scoffed in disdain, though hungry as ever.

“I mean, seriously, look at this… thing.” she mocked, squeezing the thick base firmly, making your hips bucked helplessly. “It’s ridiculous. It’s disgustingly huge, it’s way too veiny, and honestly? It’s just fucking ugly.” and I fucking love it.

You let out a pathetic whimper, not even trying to defend your pride. You loved this.

“But…” she trailed off, her voice an octave lower as she smeared your pre-cum over your tip with her thumb. “I’m only going to suck it just because you’re begging me like such a good, pathetic, little dog.” She said, dangerously close you could feel her hot breath making you throb harder.

She puckered her glossy lips and with a smack, she kissed your frenulum.

She parted her lips, her eyes staring right back at your heavy dirty soul.

“And you’re lucky I actually like you this way.”

Before the red could fill your entire face, she flattened the tip of her tongue on your frenulum, then slowly, she took your weeping head directly into her mouth. Her plush lips sealed around it, in an ever so agonizing pace, she sank down with her tongue flattened, gliding along the underside of your length. You let out a guttural groan, bliss rushing through your veins.

This was it.

You had finally reached the absolute peak of your existence.

Countless sleepless nights and pathetic, desperate fantasies…

Ha Sooyoung actually had your cock in her mouth.

However, as she started to bob on your length, a sharp sting followed.

“Aish— FUck,” you hissed, your cock twitched and tensed as her front teeth clumsily scraped against the sensitive skin of your shaft.

Despite the blazing hot dominant aura she just put on, it was a painful reminder that she was still very much a lesbian. She had absolutely zero idea how to suck a cock properly. She was rather amateur, sloppy and uncoordinated. Not that you actually minded the pain, you had established you were a pathetic, masochist when it came to her. And honestly? Her sheer, stubborn effort as she hollowed her cheeks, trying to force herself to sink down half of your length was truly commendable.

And if you were being entirely honest… You found her inexperience rather… Cute.

The way her nails grazed your skin as she pumped you at the base, her eyes teared, fluttering upward every time she pushed herself too deep. The obscene, bubbling mix of spit and pre-cum slipped out of her glossy, plush lips as she coughed and gagged around your length.

God her gagging is so lewd, you mused.

It was terribly, uniquely, endearingly her.

You had never been so painfully, euphorically happy in your entire life.

Her throat spasmed, and with a slippery sloppery schlorp, she pulled her mouth off of your cock to catch her breath.

Lumps of saliva dripped down from her lips to your tip, you could see the glistening string connected still to her lips. She coughed hard, her free hand wiping her mouth as the other remained its chokehold on your cock.

“Fuck… You’re too fucking huge!” she managed to gasp out as she glared up at you. Her bangs damp with sweat, stray hairs plastered, sticky all over her flushed forehead and temples. “God, I can barely swallow half of it without choking.”

She sighed as she finally took witness of your shiny cock coated in her spit. “This is so gross…”

“Heh, you do seem a tad bit too engrossed in it for a wuhluhwuh.” you grinned ever so smugly.

“… A what??” She blinked.

“En-gross-ed…? Get it? Because you said gross, but you seem to—”

“No, I fucking know English, dick head.”

You tensed up your cock, your head twitching in response “He begs to differ. You clearly don’t get the jo—”

“WUH-LUH-WUH!!!” she yelled exasperatedly. “Did you just try to pronounce W-L-W??”

“Yeah, isn’t that what you guys are? Lesbians?”

“YOU MEAN WOMEN LOVING WOME—”

“OOOHHH yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“I’m starting to regret doing this…” She cringed.

“NOOOO, you’re actually doing great, Sooyoung-ah hehehe~”

“Fuck, no! Don’t patronize me, I was terrible! You squirmed every time my teeth were on it, you were literally hissi—”

“What makes you think I don’t like it?”

“…” She blinked. “The fuck?” She recoiled, thoroughly confused.

“I find it particularly cute, actually,” you admitted nonchalantly, rendering her speechless.

She didn’t expect you to genuinely enjoy her terrible blowjob, even she knew she was absolute dogshit at it, yet she couldn’t help but feel lowkey flattered.

“You are so weird...” she rolled her eyes, though the corner of her lips smugly curled as she resumed her stroking. She milked the slick skin of your coated shaft, but as she did, her eyes drifted lower, completely hypnotized by the twin pendulums that were your balls, swaying beneath her hand.

She stared at them, her eyes flickering mischievously as she went down on you. You let out a muffled groan as she pressed her plush lips against them, tentatively kissing the sensitive skin of your sack.

“How much longer do I have to suck this thing before you pop?” she murmured, her tongue darted, down to scoop one of your balls into her mouth.

Your fingers instantly tangled into her bob, knuckles turning white. “Fuck… not long if you keep doing that…”

With her hand still working on your length in a steady rhythm, she finally sucked your balls. Her tongue swirled, fondling them lewdly with a filthy slurping, smacking, and popping of her lips. The wet tip of her tongue would occasionally glide dangerously low, tracing the stretched skin near your asshole, making you squirm helplessly on the mattress.

I am a wuhluhwuh, she muttered inside.

Women are soft, smell like vanilla, taste like honey. Yet there she was, eagerly slurping on a disgusting pair of sweaty, musky, dirty balls like they were Michelin fucking star. Her soaking core throbbed all over again as she tasted the degrading filth that felt like sin on her tongue.

“Fuck, Sooyoung-ah…” you breathed heavily, your hips twitching as her lips took your balls in and popped them out in tandem. “I’m so close… Like… Really fucking close.”

She pulled back with a smack, your balls glistened with her spit. “Well, you’re gonna have to help me then,” she said invitingly, her thumb deliberately smearing your pre-cum on your frenulum. “I can’t possibly do allat again by myself.”

She upped her tempo, letting out a stifled laugh. “I mean, I can’t exactly get the goat milk out all on my own.”

Your edging broin stalled for a moment. “… Goat milk?”

Her smirk quivered, her broin rotten to the core. “Yeah. If I milked you, I’d get goat milk…”

Despite her brutally quickening stroke, a snicker escaped her lips as she laughed at herself.

“’cuz you da #goat”

You snapped.

You didn’t even let her have a full-blown laugh as your hands flew to grab her head from both sides, violently tangling them into her roots. With a surge of brain-rotten adrenaline, you stood up from the mattress and forcefully impaled your throbbing cock straight into her open mouth, plunging down her throat.

Hmpphkk!

Hnghk

Gawk

Glorp (Bogos binted?)

Now that was the sound of heaven.

You pulled her head hard every time you pushed your goat in. Your pace was unforgiving and brutal. Her hands instinctively anchored to your thighs, nails digging as you mercilessly fucked the joke out of her.

But the devastating momentum of your thrusts was quickly becoming too much for the poor girl as your hips kept pushing and chasing her mouth, forcing her to tilt backward. Her hands shot back to prop herself from collapsing on her back. With her body arched, you took full advantage of it as your hand palmed the crown of her head while the other wrapped around her slender neck. Looming over her, you angled your hips and drove your heavy length downward with gravity.

Gag reflex be damned, you managed to bottom out nearly all of your length—you could literally feel your bulge plunging in and out of her neck.

Tears trailed from the corner of her eyes down to her flushed cheeks. But she didn’t even try to tap out. Her arms stood their ground, bracing hard as you fucked her throat into Oblivion so hard that it actually got remastered.

You nailed her mouth in a feral rhythm, balls slapping against her chin each time you tried to burrow even deeper into her incredibly tight throat. You could only think about how tight her ass would be if her throat was already this tight, but that was a story for another day. Perhaps. It was time to end this fuck-ass fic, the writer thought. So, eventually, you felt it coming.

“Fuck!” you roared, shudders running all over your body. “Take it all!”

You locked her in place, and with a one-hundred horse power thrust—maybe a hundred and twenty four—you bottomed out like a dragoon and blew your load.

Torrents of your release erupted straight down her esophagus. Suffocated by the sheer volume of your cum, you could feel the peristaltic spasms of her throat violently milking the goat. She tried to swallow it all, but you kept coming and coming she couldn’t keep up.

It was just too much. Her throat completely overflowed.

She coughed so violently it popped your cock out of her throat. Freed from the confines of her mouth, your cock sprayed the remaining ropes across her ruined face. Sticky mess splattered over her cheeks, nose, and damp fringes on her forehead as she collapsed back on her hands, coughing and gasping for air.

As the stream began to subside, you got back on her lips and milked the pulsing trickle down into her cum-filled mouth. You could only stare, mesmerized by the absolute filth that was Ha Sooyoung, face and mouth fully covered with your cum.

Her tongue darted out slowly, lecherously licking your slit off the final rope, then wiped the ropes around her lips as she finally downed your pooling cum in her mouth.

Gulp

Gulp

Gulp

It took her three fucking gulps to down all your hot cum into her tummy.

You stared down at her, chest heaving as you took in the absolute masterpiece of her face, beautifully dazed and glistening with your release. She had never looked better, and you had never felt better.

“I guess I really am the goat.”