#koreabeauty

She remembered watching Jiwoo's joyful video earlier, the unbridled happiness radiating from her friend. A faint smile touched Yoojung's lips, a genuine warmth for Jiwoo mingled with that persistent pang of longing for her fairytale. Today, however, the fairytale was supposed to be hers. She was marrying Kang Hyun-woo, a charming and successful businessman who, on paper, was everything she had ever wanted. 

The photographer's gaze lingered a moment longer than professional courtesy demanded, his eyes, a touch too hungry, tracing the curve of Yoojung's exposed cleavage where the delicate lace of the bodice barely contained her full breasts. He swallowed subtly, the movement betraying his captivated attention.

As Yoojung stood, the wedding dress satin stretched taut across her abdomen and hips, emphasizing the sleek, toned lines of her figure. The fabric clung to her like a lover's embrace, revealing the firm swell of her backside with each graceful step. The low-cut neckline plunged deep, offering an enticing glimpse down the shadowed crevice between her ample breasts, a view that undoubtedly made the photographer's job more… engaging. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her skin, a silent, appreciative appraisal that went beyond simply capturing the perfect shot. It was a gaze that stripped away the layers of the bridal gown, seeing the desirable woman beneath

Yoojung composed herself, a practiced smile gracing her lips as she prepared to strike a pose. "Ready when you are," she said, her voice carrying a professional lilt. The cameraman adjusted his focus, then reached up and slowly removed the black face mask he had been wearing.

A shock, sharp and sudden as an electric jolt, ripped through Yoojung. Her smile faltered, her breath catching in her throat. Standing opposite her, holding the expensive camera with a disconcerting air of nonchalance, was Min-jae – her ex-boyfriend.

Her mind reeled, a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief and resurfacing pain. Min-jae. The man whose betrayal had left her heartbroken and questioning her judgment. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, a scene ripped from a poorly written drama.

Her thoughts flashed back to those painful months, the unraveling of their once seemingly perfect relationship. It had started with small, almost insignificant inconsistencies – late nights at work that stretched into the early hours of the morning, hushed phone calls he’d take outside, a vague defensiveness that had never been there before. Yoojung had initially brushed them aside, trusting him, wanting to believe in their love.

But the whispers had started soon after, insidious little seeds of doubt planted by mutual acquaintances. They spoke of Min-jae being seen with other women – a junior colleague from his office, a striking model at a club, even a former classmate he’d reconnected with. Each rumour was a tiny pinprick, slowly deflating the balloon of her happiness.

The final confirmation had come like a brutal punch to the gut. A friend, utterly mortified, had sent her a series of blurry photos taken late one night at a secluded restaurant. Min-jae, his arm wrapped intimately around a woman who was not her, their faces inches apart, a tender smile on his lips that Yoojung had once believed was solely for her. There were more photos – him leaving the restaurant with the same woman, their hands intertwined.

The world had tilted on its axis. The man she had loved, the man she had envisioned a future with, had been systematically betraying her, not just once, but seemingly with multiple women. The photos were undeniable, the truth a bitter pill she was forced to swallow.

The confrontation had been messy, filled with her tearful accusations and his pathetic denials that quickly crumbled under the weight of evidence. He’d tried to gaslight her, to twist the narrative, but Yoojung, fueled by the raw agony of betrayal, had seen through his lies. The breakup had been swift and decisive. She had cut him out of her life, the pain a constant ache that had slowly, painstakingly begun to heal over time.

Now, here he was, standing a few feet away, his presence a ghost from her past resurrected on the most important day of her life. The audacity of it stunned her, the shock momentarily eclipsing everything else. Her carefully constructed composure threatened to shatter. What was he doing here? Had he known? Was this some kind of twisted game? Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence that had fallen in the room.

Yoojung found her voice, though it was a strained whisper, barely audible above the hushed preparations around them. “Min-jae? What… what are you doing here?” Her eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding the initial shock.

Min-jae offered a slow, almost arrogant smile, the same one that used to make her heart flutter with excitement, now twisting in her stomach with a bitter resentment. “Surprised to see me, Yoojung-ah?” His gaze swept over her, lingering pointedly on the low-cut neckline of her dress. “You look stunning. Truly… a vision.” There was a husky quality to his voice, a familiar tone that used to precede stolen kisses and whispered intimacies.

Yoojung’s fists clenched beneath the folds of her dress. “That doesn’t answer my question, Min-jae. You have no right to be here, at my wedding.”

He chuckled softly, adjusting his camera lens with a deliberate slowness. “Oh, but I do. The happy couple hired me, or rather, the wedding planner did. My portfolio speaks for itself. Though” his eyes flickered down her body again, a predatory glint in their depths, “nothing in my portfolio has ever captured a subject as… exquisitely tempting as you look right now, all trussed up in white, ready to be claimed.”

A wave of nausea mixed with a perverse thrill washed over Yoojung. His audacity was infuriating, yet his words, laced with that familiar seductive undertone, stirred a long-dormant ache within her. “Get out,” she hissed, her voice trembling slightly. “Leave, before I make a scene.”

Min-jae took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers, the camera now resting against his chest. “Make a scene, Yoojung? On your wedding day? Would your handsome groom appreciate the drama? Or perhaps… he wouldn’t mind a little reminder of what he’s about to possess? This dress… it barely hides anything, does it? All that soft skin, those perfect curves… I remember them well.” His gaze dropped again to her cleavage, and Yoojung felt a flush creep up her neck. He knew exactly how to get under her skin, even after all this time.

Before Yoojung could formulate a sharp retort or demand Min-jae’s immediate removal, the door to the room swung open and a flurry of excited voices filled the air. Her bridesmaids, close friends from her school days, rushed in to shower her with last-minute well wishes and exclamations of admiration.

“Yoojung-ah! You look breathtaking!” exclaimed one, Hyeri, her eyes wide with genuine delight.

“Like a goddess!” another, Soo-jin, chimed in, rushing forward to give Yoojung a tight hug.

Min-jae, with the swiftness of someone practiced in evasion, immediately turned his back and pretended to busy himself with his equipment, his face now conveniently obscured by his camera and a raised hand as if adjusting something. Yoojung’s heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t risk her friends seeing him, not now, not before the ceremony.

“Oh my gosh, let’s take some pictures!” Hyeri suggested, pulling out her phone. The bridesmaids gathered around Yoojung, their bright smiles a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within her. For the sake of appearances, Yoojung plastered on her most radiant smile. Min-jae, still facing away, subtly adjusted his position as if capturing the scene with his professional lens, his silence going unnoticed in the cheerful commotion.

After a flurry of phone snapshots and excited chatter about the upcoming ceremony, the bridesmaids, mindful of the time, gave Yoojung one last round of hugs. “We’ll see you at the altar, our beautiful bride!” Soo-jin called out as they made their way towards the door. “Everything’s going to be perfect!”

As the door clicked shut behind them, a heavy silence descended upon the room once more, the earlier joyful atmosphere now replaced by a palpable tension. Yoojung’s smile vanished, her gaze immediately snapping back to the man who was slowly turning to face her, the mask now discarded on a nearby table.

Min-jae closed the distance between them, his eyes slowly raking over Yoojung from the delicate veil adorning her hair down to the intricate lace at the hem of her gown. He stopped mere inches away, his gaze lingering on the deep V-neck of her dress. “You look… different,” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “So pure, so… untouched. Almost makes me forget all the nights that dress wouldn’t have lasted five seconds on that body of yours.”

His eyes flickered up to meet hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “This pristine white… a far cry from the way it would be stained after a night with me, wouldn’t you say?” He let his gaze drift down again, imagining, no doubt, the marks he used to leave on her skin. “That perfect skin… I remember how it would flush under my touch, the little shivers that would run through you when I just grazed your thigh.”

He lifted his hand slowly, his knuckles lightly brushing against the side of his neck, mimicking a caress, and his eyes locked with Yoojung’s. “And this… this would be slick with your saliva, your nails digging in as I…” He let the sentence hang in the air, the unfinished words painting a vivid picture of their past intimacy.

Yoojung’s breath caught in her throat. Despite the anger and resentment she felt towards him, a wave of unwanted memories flooded her mind. The feel of his hands on her skin, the taste of his lips, the way her body would indeed tremble and ache with a desperate need for his touch. A shiver traced its way down her spine, a physical manifestation of the memories that his words had so crudely resurrected. Her carefully constructed composure began to crack, a flicker of something other than anger – a confusing mix of longing and revulsion – flickering in her eyes. Her own hands, still clasped tightly in front of her, betrayed her inner turmoil, the knuckles white against the delicate lace of her gloves

Min-jae moved with a predatory grace, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet as he circled behind Yoojung. He stopped directly behind her, his body so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him, even through the layers of her wedding gown. He leaned in, his breath warm against the delicate skin of her neck, just below her ear where he knew she was most sensitive.

“Remember this, Yoojung-ah?” he rasped, his voice thick with a possessive hunger. “The way my breath used to make you shiver? This exact spot… begging for my lips, my teeth.” His hands, no longer holding the camera, now hovered inches from her waist, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

“This dress,” he continued, his voice a low purr, his gaze tracing the line of her spine visible through the fabric, “it’s beautiful, truly. But all I can think about is tearing it off you, piece by piece, just like I used to, remember? That frantic desperation to feel my skin against yours.” His hands finally made contact, his fingers splaying across her waist, pulling her back just a fraction against his hardening body. Yoojung’s breath hitched, a gasp escaping her lips despite her attempts to remain composed.

He lowered his head further, his lips nuzzling the delicate curve of her ear. “And down here…” His fingers subtly tightened on her hips, pressing her against the growing bulge in his trousers. “This is where you’d be pressed against me, slick and begging for my cock. That little wetness that would bloom between your legs just thinking about me… I can almost feel it now, can’t you?” His words, raw and explicit, painted a vivid picture of their past encounters, a stark contrast to the virginal white of her wedding dress.

Yoojung’s body betrayed her, a tremor running through her despite her anger. Her thighs instinctively clenched, a familiar heat pooling low in her belly. The memories, so carefully suppressed, surged back with a visceral intensity – the way her body used to crave his touch, the almost shameful eagerness with which she would surrender to his desires. He knew her so well, every nerve ending, every secret pleasure point. And with just a few words, a few carefully placed touches, he was unraveling her, right here, moments before she was supposed to pledge herself to another man.

Yoojung tried to stiffen, to pull away from the intoxicating closeness of him, but her resistance felt weak, almost perfunctory, like a swimmer caught in a strong current. “Min-jae… stop it,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper, betraying more breathlessness than command.

He chuckled softly, his lips still close to her ear. “Stop? When you know you want this, Yoojung-ah? When your body is already remembering every touch?” His hands moved from her hips, sliding up her back, his fingers tracing the delicate boning of her corset. He paused just below the neckline of her dress, his fingertips hovering tantalizingly just above the swell of her breasts, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, his hand slipped beneath the low-cut edge of her dress. His fingers, warm and knowing, slid down the creamy skin of her chest, settling right in the deep valley between her ample breasts. He could feel the soft, yielding flesh beneath his touch, the heat radiating from her skin. Yoojung gasped, her eyes fluttering closed, a shiver running through her entire frame.

Min-jae slowly turned Yoojung around, his hands sliding from her cleavage to grip her waist, pulling her close until their bodies were almost touching. Their eyes locked for a tense moment, a silent battle raging between anger, resentment, and a resurfacing desire. Then, his gaze dropped to her lips, full and slightly parted, and a familiar hunger flickered in his eyes.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers tentatively at first, then pressing harder, a demanding kiss that sent a jolt of unwanted pleasure through Yoojung. His mouth moved over hers with a practiced familiarity, a dance they had performed countless times before. Memories of their passionate embraces flooded her senses, momentarily overriding her present circumstances.

His hands, still possessive, remained on her breasts, his thumbs pressing into the soft fabric of her wedding dress, directly over her nipples. He could feel them harden instantly beneath his touch, a silent confirmation of her body’s treacherous response to him. The pressure was firm, almost bruising, yet a thrill shot through Yoojung, a stark reminder of the raw, unfiltered desire he used to ignite within her. The delicate lace and satin of her bridal gown felt like nothing, a mere barrier to the intimate connection his touch was re-establishing.

Min-jae’s kiss deepened, his lips parting hers, his tongue slipping inside to explore the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. It was a familiar invasion, a taste that still lingered in her memory, both sweet and forbidden. Yoojung found herself momentarily lost in the sensation, her body responding with a treacherous familiarity, her tongue hesitantly meeting his.

His hands on her breasts tightened, his fingers kneading through the layers of satin and lace, finding the sensitive tips and teasing them with a rhythmic motion. Yoojung gasped into the kiss, a low moan escaping her throat that she tried to suppress.

Min-jae broke the kiss, his breath hot against her flushed cheek. “You still taste the same, Yoojung-ah,” he rasped, his eyes dark with lust. “Like pure sin and everything I shouldn’t want… but crave anyway.” His hands slid further down her chest, spreading out over the soft mounds of her breasts, his thumbs now rubbing insistently against her already hard nipples. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart beneath his palms.

“This dress…” he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of her areolae through the fabric, “it’s supposed to be for your husband, isn’t it? Imagine his surprise if he knew what had already happened in it… the way my hands are all over you, remembering every inch.” He leaned closer, his lips finding her ear again. “Tell me, Yoojung, are you as wet for me now as you used to get just from my whispers?”

The dam of Yoojung's resistance finally broke. His words, his touch, the raw familiarity of his desire had chipped away at her anger until only a desperate yearning remained. With a soft groan, she surrendered to the kiss, her lips parting wider, her tongue meeting his with a fervor that matched his own. The carefully constructed image of the poised bride shattered, replaced by the passionate woman he remembered so well.

Her hands, which had been clenched tightly moments ago, now roamed freely over his body. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it in her fists as she pulled him closer, her body pressing against his through the layers of her wedding gown. Her fingers then traced the hard contours of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart mirroring her own frantic rhythm.

Min-jae broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes, burning with undisguised lust, dropped to the neckline of Yoojung's dress. With a swift, practiced movement, his fingers fumbled with the delicate clasps at the back of the bodice. The low-cut front loosened further, and with a final tug, the fabric parted, revealing the full glory of Yoojung's ample breasts. They spilled out from the confines of the dress, their weight and fullness momentarily taking his breath away, the already hardened nipples now fully exposed and begging for his touch.

Min-jae’s lips left hers, trailing a line of wet kisses down her jawline to the sensitive hollow of her throat. He lingered there, sucking gently on her skin, and Yoojung’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Remember how much you loved this?” he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and moist. “My mouth on your neck, your body trembling like a leaf?” He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking with hers, a knowing smirk on his face.

Then, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, his expression softening with a raw desire. Slowly, reverently, he reached out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her left breast. The skin was soft and warm, and her nipple was already erect, a hard little bud begging for attention. He brushed his thumb across it lightly, and Yoojung gasped, a shiver running down her spine.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Just as I remember. Big and full, wanting to be touched, wanting my mouth all over them.” His other hand joined the first, and he cupped both her breasts, savoring their weight in his palms. He began to knead them gently, his thumbs circling her nipples, teasing and taunting them.

Yoojung’s breath came in short, shallow gasps. The feel of his hands on her bare skin, after the initial shock, was igniting a familiar fire within her. She closed her eyes, the wedding dress feeling like a ridiculous costume in this moment of raw, resurfacing passion.

“Tell me what you want,” Min-jae whispered, his lips hovering over her right breast, his warm breath caressing her nipple. “Tell me you want me to taste you, just like I used to.” His fingers tightened slightly on her other breast, and Yoojung’s hips shifted instinctively, a silent plea.

A soft whimper escaped her lips. “Min-jae…” she breathed, her voice laced with a mixture of longing and shame.

He didn’t wait for her to finish. His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently at first, then with more intensity. Yoojung’s back arched, and a moan of pure pleasure ripped from her throat. Her hands, still entangled in his hair, pulled him closer, wanting more of the sensation that was flooding her senses

His other hand, no longer content with simply cupping her breast, slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, finding the bare skin beneath. His fingers traced the curve of her ribs, then moved lower, inching towards her waist, feeling the subtle tremor that ran through her body with every touch. The contrast between the smooth, exposed skin of her upper body and the restrictive layers of the wedding gown below only heightened the illicit thrill of their encounter.

Min-jae’s suction on her nipple intensified, and Yoojung cried out, her body arching involuntarily. He switched his attention to her other breast, his mouth now latching onto that eager peak, his tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub, drawing out a series of escalating moans from her. His hands worked her flesh relentlessly, squeezing, kneading, and teasing, as if rediscovering every familiar contour.

“Tell me you remember how good this feels, Yoojung-ah,” he murmured between frantic sucks on her breast. “Tell me you’ve missed my mouth on your body, driving you wild like this.”

Yoojung’s head lolled back, her eyes half-closed, her senses overwhelmed by the sensations he was so expertly evoking. “Yes… Min-jae… yes,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. Her hands, no longer hesitant, were now clawing at his back, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, desperate for more.

His hand that had been exploring her waist now dipped lower, his fingertips brushing against the top of the delicate fabric of her bridal undergarments. He lingered there for a torturous moment, feeling the dampness that had already begun to bloom. A knowing smirk touched his lips against her breast. “Just like I remembered,” he whispered, his voice thick with triumph. “So eager for me, even in this ridiculous dress for another man.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with hers, their depths swirling with a potent mix of lust and a complicated history. He reached down and gently lifted the hem of her wedding dress, his gaze lingering on the expanse of her bare legs revealed beneath. The pristine white of the fabric against her flushed skin created a stark and undeniably erotic contrast. His fingers trailed up her thigh, sending shivers racing through her, until he reached the lace trim of her panties, already soaked with her arousal.

Min-jae’s fingers slipped beneath the lacy elastic of her panties. With a slow, deliberate tug, he slid them down her thighs, the soft fabric bunching at her ankles before falling silently to the floor. Yoojung shivered, the sudden absence of the delicate barrier intensifying the heat that had already taken root between her legs. The cool air against her slick skin only heightened her arousal.

Keeping the front of her wedding dress lifted just enough, Min-jae’s hand returned to the core of her being. His fingers, still slightly damp from touching her breasts, now traced the swollen lips of her already soaking wet vagina. Yoojung gasped, her thighs parting instinctively, offering him greater access. He pressed a finger gently into the slick crevice, feeling her muscles clench around him.

“So wet for me, even now,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. He began to stroke her slowly, his finger gliding along the sensitive folds, teasing and tantalizing. Yoojung’s head fell back against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hips began to rock almost involuntarily, pressing against his exploring fingers, seeking deeper contact.

He then traced a line down from her swollen clitoris, feeling its hard bead beneath his touch, down through the slickness to the opening of her eager channel. He lingered there for a moment, pressing gently, before sliding his fingers further inside, one then two, stretching her, filling her. Yoojung cried out, a high-pitched moan that echoed in the room, her body arching off the wall as his fingers began to move within her, mimicking the rhythm of their past intimacies.

Just as Min-jae’s fingers delved deeper, a sharp, insistent knock echoed from the door, followed by a familiar voice calling out, “Yoojung? Everything alright in there, honey? I just wanted to check on you before the ceremony.”

Yoojung’s eyes widened in sheer panic, her breath catching in her throat. It was Hyun-woo, her groom. With a strangled gasp, she grabbed Min-jae’s arm, her grip like a vise, and frantically pulled him towards the far side of the dressing room. A row of full-length dresses, still in their protective coverings, offered a last-minute shield.

They stumbled behind the hanging garments, the rustling of fabric momentarily masking their movements. Yoojung pressed herself against the wall, her head just barely visible above the tops of the dresses. Min-jae, with a knowing smirk playing on his lips despite the precarious situation, crouched down out of sight, his gaze now level with the exposed lower half of her body.

The situation was undeniably compromising, and the visual from Min-jae's vantage point was a chaotic tableau of illicit desire against the backdrop of impending matrimony. Yoojung’s wedding gown was hiked up around her hips, revealing her bare, flushed buttocks. Below, his fingers were still slick with her arousal. Above, the bodice of her dress had been pulled down, and her full breasts spilled out over the lace, their nipples still taut and sensitive from his touch. The contrast between her bridal attire and her utterly exposed state was a potent and undeniably erotic sight for the hidden photographer.

Hyun-woo stepped into the dressing room, his voice warm and filled with anticipation. He spotted Yoojung’s head peeking out from behind the row of gowns and chuckled softly. “There you are, my beautiful bride. Almost ready?” He didn’t venture further into the room, respecting her privacy as he assumed she was still in the final stages of dressing. He leaned against the doorframe, a fond smile on his face. “I just wanted to tell you that you look absolutely radiant, even from this little glimpse I can see.”

While Hyun-woo’s attention was fixed on Yoojung’s face and his words filled the air, Min-jae, hidden from view, took the opportunity. His hands, still slick from Yoojung’s arousal, moved with a practiced stealth. He gently spread her bare buttocks apart, his fingers sliding into the warm, wet crevice of her vagina from behind. Yoojung gasped softly, the unexpected intrusion sending a shiver of both shock and a perverse thrill through her. She bit her lip hard, trying to suppress any outward reaction.

Hyun-woo continued, oblivious to the secret drama unfolding just behind the dresses. “I can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle. It feels like a dream. Are you nervous?”

Min-jae’s fingers inside Yoojung began to move slowly, mimicking the rhythm of their earlier encounter. Yoojung’s thighs clenched involuntarily, and a bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She tried to focus on Hyun-woo’s voice, forcing a smile to her lips that he could see. “A little,” she managed, her voice slightly breathier than she intended. “Just… excited.”

Min-jae’s middle finger found her sensitive spot, pressing gently, and Yoojung’s eyes flickered shut for a fleeting moment. She had to keep it together, for Hyun-woo's sake, for her own wedding. But the secret, forbidden pleasure Min-jae was so expertly delivering just inches away was making it agonizingly difficult.

Yoojung risked a quick, surreptitious peek down the row of dresses. Her body was angled slightly as she leaned forward a touch to keep her conversation with Hyun-woo sounding natural, a subtle adjustment that unintentionally offered Min-jae a more intimate view. The lifted hem of her gown, combined with her slight bend, now showcased the glistening wetness between her legs in the soft light filtering through the dressing room. Her exposed breasts, freed from the tight bodice, swayed gently with her movement, the nipples still visibly erect.

Hyun-woo continued to chat, his voice full of the sweet anticipation of their wedding. "I can't wait for you to finally be my wife, Yoojung. It feels like we've been waiting forever."

Behind the dresses, Min-jae's fingers continued their slow, deliberate strokes, his gaze now feasting on the unobstructed view. He could see the delicate folds of her vagina, glistening with her arousal, the creamy inner lips slightly parted

As if an invisible string had pulled her forward, Yoojung subtly bent down to adjust the hem of one of the dresses, her action conveniently placing her backside directly in Min-jae’s line of sight. The slight downward tilt offered him an even more explicit view of her glistening opening, practically begging for his touch. He didn’t hesitate.

With a swift, silent motion, Min-jae unfastened his trousers and freed his thick, engorged penis. The air thrummed with a charged anticipation as he positioned himself behind her, the head of his cock pressing against her wet folds. With a soft groan that he barely managed to suppress, he thrust forward, his length sliding deep inside her eager body.

Yoojung shuddered violently, a gasp escaping her lips that she quickly muffled with a cough. It had been so long since she had felt his thick shaft filling her, stretching her in that familiar, intensely pleasurable way. Her muscles clenched instinctively around him, her body instantly recognizing and welcoming the long-missed sensation. A deep, primal moan threatened to erupt from her throat, a sound that spoke of a thirst finally being quenched

Just a little nervous about saying the right vows," Yoojung said to Hyun-woo, her voice a carefully controlled tremble. Behind her, Min-jae thrust deeper, the head of his cock bumping against a spot that sent a wave of intense pleasure through her. Vows... yeah, the only vows I'm thinking about right now are the ones my body is screaming to Min-jae.

"Oh, don't worry, my love," Hyun-woo replied reassuringly from the other side of the dresses. "You'll be perfect. You always are."

Min-jae’s hands, which had been gripping her hips to steady himself, now began to squeeze and knead her buttocks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Perfectly tight,” he whispered close to her ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin. Yoojung had to bite down on her lip to stifle a gasp.

"It's just... a big commitment, you know?" Yoojung continued to Hyun-woo, her voice slightly strained. With each of Min-jae's thrusts, a searing pleasure shot through her, making it harder to concentrate on her words. Commitment… ironic, isn’t it?

"Of course, sweetheart," Hyun-woo said gently. "But it's a wonderful one. One that I know we're both ready for."

Min-jae pulled almost out and then plunged back in, hitting her sweet spot again and again. Yoojung's knees threatened to buckle, and she had to grip the dress in front of her to stay upright. A soft whimper escaped her lips.

"Did you say something?" Hyun-woo asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Just... adjusting my dress," Yoojung lied quickly, trying to keep her voice even. Behind her, Min-jae chuckled softly against her back, his cock throbbing deeply inside her. He knew exactly the precarious position he had put her in, and the thrill of it was evident in his movements.

“Yes, a very big step,” Yoojung replied to Hyun-woo, her voice wavering slightly as Min-jae’s pace quickened behind her. He was now thrusting with a more urgent rhythm, his hips grinding against her backside with a subtle friction that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her. She gripped the fabric of a nearby dress tightly, her knuckles white.

“But one you’re ready for, right?” Hyun-woo asked, a touch of teasing in his tone. “No last-minute cold feet?”

“Ready,” Yoojung insisted, her voice gaining a forced firmness. Behind her, Min-jae’s hand slipped lower, his fingers now tracing the wet folds surrounding his invading cock. He pressed down gently on her perineum with his thumb as he thrust upwards, hitting her deepest nerve. A gasp escaped her lips, and she coughed quickly to cover it.

“Sounds like you’re still catching your breath,” Hyun-woo chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Min-jae’s lips were now at Yoojung’s ear again, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. “Tonight?” he whispered, his voice thick with amusement and lust. “He has no idea what kind of ‘care’ you truly crave, does he?” He thrust hard, making Yoojung’s knees buckle slightly.

“Just… a little excited,” Yoojung managed, trying to keep her voice steady for Hyun-woo. Her head lolled forward against the dress she was holding, her body a tense wire strung between feigned composure and raw, mounting pleasure. Min-jae continued his relentless assault, each thrust a deep, possessive claim on her body, a secret, forbidden act taking place mere feet from her unsuspecting fiancé.

“Alright, my love, I’ll let you get back to your final touches,” Hyun-woo said, his voice fading as he presumably left the dressing room, the door clicking shut behind him.

A wave of relief washed over Yoojung, the tension that had been coiled tight in her shoulders finally beginning to loosen. Her earlier panic receded, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and a lingering flush of arousal. She turned to face Min-jae, ready to deliver a scathing reprimand for his reckless behavior.

But the sight that greeted her stopped her words in her throat. Min-jae hadn’t moved, his trousers still unfastened, his thick, hard cock standing at full attention, jutting out from the fabric. The sheer size and obvious arousal on display were a stark reminder of the intense pleasure he had just given her.

Her initial irritation melted away, replaced by a potent wave of desire. Her gaze dropped from his impressive erection back up to his eyes, a newfound boldness sparking within her. Instead of scolding him, a slow, seductive smile spread across her lips. Reaching out, she hooked her fingers around his loosened tie and gave a sharp tug, pulling him closer. “Oh, I’m not quite done with you yet,” she purred, her voice low and husky. Turning her back to the now-closed door, she led him towards a plush vanity chair in the corner of the room

Yoojung knelt down in front of Min-jae, her eyes tracing the length of his thick, throbbing cock. The head was a deep, rosy red, and a drop of precum glistened at the tip. A soft sigh escaped her lips. “God, Min-jae,” she whispered, her voice thick with rediscovered desire. “I really have missed you… missed this.”

Her hand, still adorned with the delicate lace glove, reached out slowly, hovering just above his erection before finally making contact. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, feeling the immediate jump in his pulse beneath her touch. “So thick,” she murmured, her thumb running along the underside, feeling the prominent vein throbbing there. “So hard.”

Her touch became bolder, more confident. She slid her hand up and down the length of his cock, her grip firm, milking him gently. A low groan rumbled in Min-jae’s chest. Yoojung leaned closer, her lips just inches from the head of his penis. “Do you remember how I used to love to taste you?” she whispered naughtily, her tongue flicking out to trace the swollen ridge.

Min-jae’s breath hitched. He reached out, his fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head back slightly. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Yoojung-ah,” he rasped, his eyes burning into hers.

Yoojung just smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She squeezed his cock firmly, then ran her hand slowly down to the base, feeling the weight of his balls in her palm before sliding back up again. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” she purred, her gaze locked on his, a silent challenge and an undeniable invitation in her expression.

Yoojung leaned forward, her gaze never leaving Min-jae’s as she slowly opened her mouth and took the head of his hard cock inside. Her lips closed around him with a practiced suction, and she ran her tongue along the sensitive underside, eliciting a deep groan from him. She then slid further down, taking more and more of his length into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.

Her hand continued to stroke the base of his shaft, her fingers occasionally dipping lower to cup his heavy balls, teasing their wrinkled skin. She laved the head of his cock with her tongue, sucking on the tip with an almost desperate hunger, making wet, smacking sounds that filled the silent dressing room.

“God, Yoojung,” Min-jae rasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, his grip tightening and loosening with his escalating arousal. “You always knew how to take care of me.”

Yoojung pulled back slightly, her lips glistening with his precum. “And you know how much I’ve missed it,” she replied, her voice husky. She then dipped her head again, taking his full length into her mouth this time, sucking deeply until he shuddered.

“In just about an hour,” Min-jae said, his voice strained, “you’ll be standing at the altar, promising yourself to another man. And just now…”

Yoojung punctuated his sentence by taking his balls into her mouth, slurping on them greedily, making Min-jae groan loudly. She looked up at him through her lashes, a wicked glint in her eyes. “And just now,” she finished, her mouth still full, “I’m tasting you like you’re all mine.” She then returned to his cock, sucking with renewed intensity.

“Those lips,” Min-jae continued, his hips beginning to thrust involuntarily against her mouth. “In an hour, you’ll be using those lips to kiss him… the same lips that are wrapped around my cock right now, sucking me like you can’t get enough.”

Yoojung pulled back again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving. “He won’t know what these lips have been doing,” she purred, her eyes filled with a delicious naughtiness. She leaned forward and took him back into her mouth, her hunger seeming insatiable.

With a sudden surge of desire and a newfound boldness, Yoojung took the lead. She stepped back slightly, her eyes blazing with a raw hunger that mirrored his own. With a swift movement, she reached down and gathered the heavy skirts of her wedding gown, lifting them high around her waist, revealing her bare thighs and the glistening, swollen lips of her already thoroughly aroused vagina.

She looked directly into Min-jae’s eyes, a provocative challenge in her gaze. Without a word, she turned her back to him, positioning herself over his still-erect cock. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself, guiding the head of his penis with her hand to the slick opening between her legs. With a soft groan of pure pleasure, she slid down onto him, feeling his thick length fill her completely, stretching her in that familiar, exquisite way.

A jolt of intense sensation shot through her, a feeling of homecoming after a long absence. She closed her eyes, her breath catching in her throat as her body paused, savoring the fullness, the perfect fit. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their mingled breathing. Then, with a slow, sensual rhythm, Yoojung began to move, her hips rocking gently against his, her body remembering the dance they had performed so many times before.

From his hidden vantage point, the reflection in the ornate, gilded mirror across the spacious dressing room offered Min-jae a voyeuristic masterpiece, a tableau of raw desire unfolding in the most forbidden of settings. Yoojung’s head, tilted back at an almost regal angle, betrayed the sheer pleasure coursing through her. Her lips, still slightly swollen and reddened from his earlier kisses, were parted in a silent symphony of moans and gasps, each exhalation misting the air around her. Her eyes, though mostly closed, would occasionally flutter open, revealing a hazy, unfocused gaze, lost in the intoxicating sensations he was delivering.

The way her body moved upon his was a dance of pure instinct, a rhythm honed by years of shared intimacy. With each slow, deliberate descent, her core tightened around his shaft, milking him with a precision that sent shivers of pure ecstasy down his spine. He could see the slight tremble in her shoulders, the delicate arch of her back, the subtle flexing of the muscles in her arms as she gripped the edge of a nearby dress for support.

Her breasts, now fully exposed and gloriously unrestrained, bounced with each movement, their weight and fullness evident in the way they swayed. The dusky pink areolae, their nipples still proudly erect from his attention, seemed to beckon his touch. The contrast against the pristine white of the surrounding wedding dress was a visual feast, a stark reminder of the secret, passionate storm raging beneath the surface of her bridal facade.

And then there was the focal point, the nexus of their illicit union: her vagina, glistening wet and openly displaying the rhythmic intrusion of his engorged cock. With each downward slide, his thick shaft disappeared completely within her, the tight walls of her canal gripping him firmly, drawing out a strangled groan from his own throat. As she rose, the mirror captured the slow, tantalizing reveal, the slick head of his penis emerging, coated in her juices, before plunging back in again with a soft, fleshy sound that echoed in the otherwise silent room. He could see the delicate folds of her inner lips parting to accommodate his girth, the way they clung to him, almost desperately.

Her thighs, milky white and toned from years of dancing and exercise, framed this intimate portrait. They flexed with each movement, their inner surfaces brushing against his own, a friction that added another layer of sensory overload to the already intense experience. He imagined the heat radiating from her core, the frantic pulse that surely hammered beneath her skin. He was buried deep within her, their connection a visceral, undeniable truth that transcended the white dress and the impending vows to another man. This was Yoojung, his Yoojung, lost in the moment, her body singing a song of pure, unadulterated pleasure only he knew how to orchestrate. The reflection in the mirror was a testament to their secret history, a forbidden indulgence stolen in the precious moments before she was supposed to begin her new life.

Min-jae, watching Yoojung’s reflection in the mirror, a primal urge finally taking over, could no longer remain a passive recipient of her ministrations. He gripped her hips firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks, and initiated his own deep, powerful thrusts. His hips began to move in sync with hers, then quickly overtook her slower rhythm, driving deeper and harder with each push.

The change in pace sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure rocketing through Yoojung. Her breath hitched, and a series of involuntary moans spilled from her lips, louder and less inhibited than before. Her head lolled back against the cool wallpaper behind her, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensations. Her long, dark hair, usually styled with such precision, now tumbled down her back and over her shoulders in a wild, tangled mess, framing a face flushed with desire. A sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and the delicate curve of her neck, catching the light filtering through the nearby window.

Her exposed breasts bounced with an almost frantic energy, the nipples taut and achingly sensitive with each jarring movement. Min-jae’s hands tightened on her hips, guiding her, controlling the depth and angle of each thrust, ensuring maximum pleasure for them both. He could feel the intense heat radiating from her core, the frantic clenching of her muscles around his throbbing cock.

“That’s it, Yoojung,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust and exertion. “Ride me like you mean it. Like you used to.” His words were a potent reminder of their shared past, igniting a wilder, more uninhibited passion within her.

Yoojung’s movements became more frantic, her earlier slow, sensual rhythm now replaced by a desperate urgency. She bucked against him, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with an equal intensity, her body seemingly possessed by a primal need for release. The soft rustling of her wedding dress against her bare skin, the faint squeaking of the chair beneath them, and their ragged breaths filled the small space behind the row of dresses.

Min-jae leaned forward, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping and sucking gently, adding another layer of sensation to her already overloaded senses. His hands continued their relentless work on her hips and buttocks, squeezing, kneading, and lifting her to meet his every thrust with an almost savage intensity. He could feel her fingernails digging into his back, her silent language of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

The reflection in the mirror showcased her utter abandon, the way her body was completely consumed by the act. Her lips were parted in a silent scream of pleasure, her chest heaving with each frantic breath. The sight of their joined bodies, the pristine white of her wedding dress in stark contrast to their sweaty, entwined forms, was a potent and undeniably erotic spectacle,

“Think he’s excited to finally call you his wife?” Min-jae murmured against her neck as he thrust deep, his hands now free to roam. Yoojung gasped softly, her head falling forward. “He’s a good man, Hyun-woo,” she replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “He deserves to be happy.”

Min-jae’s hands found her breasts, which swung freely with her movements as she rode him, her back to his chest. He cupped their weight, his thumbs brushing across her nipples, which were still incredibly sensitive. “And you? Are you happy to be his?” he asked, his voice low and probing.

Yoojung hesitated for a moment, her rhythm faltering slightly. “He makes me feel safe,” she finally said, a touch of uncertainty in her tone.

Min-jae chuckled softly, his fingers now gently squeezing and kneading her breasts, enjoying the feel of their fullness. “Safe is good, Yoojung-ah. But is it… this?” He punctuated his question with a deep, powerful thrust that made her cry out. Her hands gripped his forearms for support, her knuckles white.

“He… he’s kind,” she continued, her voice a little breathier now as Min-jae’s ministrations on her breasts intensified. He was teasing her nipples, pinching them lightly, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine.

“Kind,” Min-jae repeated, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Is kind what makes your pussy clench around my cock like this?” He thrust again, and Yoojung’s head fell forward, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her hips continued to rock against him, an undeniable rhythm of desire.

“He… he loves me,” she whispered, a note of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

Min-jae’s hands continued to play with her breasts, one hand now gently stroking the underside while the other teased her nipple. “And I don’t?” he asked, his voice laced with a familiar tenderness that momentarily cut through the haze of lust.

Yoojung remained silent for a moment, her body still moving on his, the sensation too intense to ignore. “It’s different,” she finally said, a sigh escaping her lips. “It was always different with you.”

Min-jae’s grip on her hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and more insistent. “And it still is,” he murmured, his lips finding the curve of her neck. “Even now, in your wedding dress, about to marry another man.” He squeezed one of her breasts firmly, and Yoojung’s head fell back, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

As Yoojung’s movements reached a fever pitch, a series of sharp, shuddering breaths escaped her lips. Her body tensed, every muscle clenching around Min-jae’s cock in a tight, spasmic grip. A high-pitched cry tore from her throat as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her, her climax rocking her body uncontrollably. Her grip on his arms tightened to the point of pain, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breathing ragged.

Min-jae held her tightly, feeling the pulsing contractions of her orgasm gripping his length. He waited for the tremors to subside slightly before, with a low grunt, he straightened his legs, standing up while still deeply embedded within her. Yoojung, caught off guard by the sudden change in elevation, instinctively bent forward, her hands now resting on the back of the vanity chair she had been facing moments before.

Her wedding gown was now bunched high around her waist, her bare buttocks thrust out behind her, offering Min-jae an even more exposed and vulnerable view. Her breasts swung freely, still damp from his kisses. He gripped her hips firmly, his cock still buried deep inside her, and began to thrust again, the change in angle offering a different, equally intense sensation.

“Like this, Yoojung-ah?” he rasped, his breath hot against her ear. “Bent over for me, just like a little slut? Is this how you should be before your wedding, your tight little pussy still wet and stretched from my cock?”

Yoojung gasped, the new position intensifying the stretching sensation. “Min-jae… oh God…” she moaned, her voice thick with lingering pleasure and a hint of breathless shock.

He continued to pump into her, his thrusts hard and deep. “That pretty little ass of yours is begging for my handprints, isn’t it? Begging for a spank or two before you walk down the aisle all innocent and pure.” He slapped her bare backside lightly, the sound echoing in the room. “Remember whose you really are, Yoojung. Remember who had you screaming just moments before you promise yourself to him.”

Min-jae’s grip shifted, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of Yoojung’s hair at the nape of her neck. He gently but firmly raised her head, forcing her to look at their reflection in the large mirror across the room. The sight that greeted her was a raw, unfiltered depiction of their transgression. Her face was flushed and contorted in a mask of pure, unadulterated pleasure, her eyes wide and glazed, barely seeing her own image. Her exposed breasts, heavy and swollen, hung low, their nipples dark and wet from his earlier ministrations. Her knees were visibly trembling, threatening to buckle beneath her.

The sight of her own body so completely lost to pleasure, so utterly yielding to him in her bridal attire, sent another wave of intense sensation crashing over Yoojung. Her muscles clenched around Min-jae’s cock, the pulsing contractions starting again, even stronger this time. A strangled cry escaped her lips, her body shuddering with the force of her second orgasm.

Min-jae groaned, feeling the intense tightening around his shaft, the unmistakable sign of her climax triggering his own. His thrusts became deeper, faster, more desperate. The friction intensified, the pleasure reaching an unbearable peak. With a final, guttural roar, he emptied his seed deep inside her, his body convulsing as he spilled his hot load into the woman who was about to marry another man

Yoojung took a deep breath, the air in the dressing room suddenly feeling thick with unspoken promises and lingering tension. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the cool wood of the vanity table for a moment, gathering her thoughts. The weight of Min-jae’s seed inside her was a tangible reminder of their secret, a stark contrast to the pristine white fabric clinging to her body.

Min-jae, still breathing heavily behind her, gently withdrew, the sensation leaving a lingering ache and a sense of emptiness, quickly replaced by the knowledge of what had just transpired. He stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on her hips. “So,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that only she could hear. “Now what, my beautiful bride?”

Yoojung straightened up, turning to face him, her expression a complex mix of exhilaration and a strange sort of newfound confidence. The flush on her cheeks was still vibrant, and her eyes held a knowing glint. “Now,” she echoed, a slow smile spreading across her lips, “I go and get married.”

Min-jae raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze. “Just like that? After… that?”

“After that,” Yoojung affirmed, stepping closer to him, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “I walk down the aisle, become Mrs. Hyun-woo, and play the part perfectly.” She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. “And you, Min-jae, you were just the photographer, capturing the happy day.”

“And what happens after the happy day?” he asked, his voice husky with anticipation.

Yoojung’s smile widened. “After the happy day,” she whispered, her eyes locking with his, a silent promise passing between them, “whenever I need a reminder of what I truly desire, whenever I need a real touch, a real connection… I know exactly where to find you.” She ran her hand down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. “You’ll be ready, won’t you?”

Min-jae’s grip tightened on her hips, his gaze burning into hers. “Always, Yoojung-ah. Always.”

She stepped back, her eyes flicking down to his still-aroused member. “Keep that in mind for later.” With a final, lingering look that held both a promise and a silent command, Yoojung turned away and began to straighten her wedding dress, the faint, sweet scent of their mingled desires lingering in the air. The knowledge of their secret, the power she now felt in controlling their future encounters, gave her a strange sense of calm as she prepared to face her groom. The aisle awaited, and she would walk it with a secret, scandalous thrill pulsing within her.

PART 2 - BUSINESS PROPOSAL SMUT -  KIM SEJEONG STORY IN SHOP

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