#nct dilf

“aww, what’s wrong?” he asks in a mocking tone, pushing the toy further against your clit and making you cry out as you arch your back off the bed with shaking legs, but he is quick to pin your hips back down. “not so fast.” he tosses the wand aside and slides his middle finger knuckle deep inside your abused cunt. 

“you wanna know why…” johnny starts off the question, pulling his finger right out to insert two and you can feel the cool gold wedding band on his hand against your lips. the metal reminds you of just how immoral the act you two were up to was and it prompts you to think if johnny fucks his wife like this too? 

does he cuff her up in bed, arms behind her with a ball gag in her mouth and finger her until she’s soaked the bed like he’s doing right now? does he pound her pussy as he presses her face into the mattress until he emptied himself inside her like he does to you? does she even have a clue of what her busy husband does after work? 

a sudden and sharp slap to your core snaps you from your thoughts, erupting a loud moan from your throat. “were you listening, princess?” 

you cautiously shake your head as johnny soothingly rubs his digits over your cunt.

he tuts, shaking his own head in disappointment before repeating himself. “i said ‘do you want to know why you’re been punished’?” 

you shake your head once again, rubbing yourself against his finger tips. “because-” johnny forces three fingers inside you until his palm resting against your overstimulated bud before curling them and you gasp, mumbling incoherent words. the stretch feels delicious and you can’t help but continue grinding against his hand. “you’ve been a bad girl, you know? sending me videos of yourself masturbating whilst i’m at work?” 

© haechaninmyheart, 2025 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarise, translate, or share my work on other platforms.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through. 

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you. 

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open.  You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement. 

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed. 

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face. 

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small. 

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.  

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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“I wish.” He quietly sighs.

But, Jaemin looks confused. “Then who the fuck did you marry?”

Jeno’s lips form a thin line. “Her mother.”

Jaemin does a double take, nearly spitting out his coffee. “You? Married her mother? Surely her mother has to be…”

Jeno shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure I was drunk and happened to be in Vegas.” His lips are a thin line, mostly out of embarrassment and half out of regret.

Jaemin sighs. “Well,” his eyes flicker to your form in Jeno’s kitchen, studying you while you mess with whatever you’re studying for. “I don’t promote anything slightly immoral, but if you’re not gonna…” he makes a gesture. “then I gladly will.” he admits, ready to get up and call your name. Jeno nearly bodyslams him back onto the couch they sit on.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

Jaemin’s laughing now. “See! You do wanna do a little something or two to her I fuckin’ knew it!”

Jeno quickly glances at you, who’s completely absorbed in work, then faces Jaemin again. “Shut the hell up,” he grumbles.

“You’re leaving right now.” He continues, effectively shoving his friend out of his house with a sigh.

“Her mom’s not even home half the time, Jeno!” Jaemin nearly screams. Jeno knows. He knows.

He goes to the kitchen to find you still sitting at the island counter, still studying away. You’re a smart girl, he knows that. He also knows, however, how shy you can be—especially with him. He often wonders if he ever rubbed you the wrong way.

“Y/n, honey, m’gonna head to bed, m’kay?” He says, his hand placed on the small of your back.

“M’kay.” You hum. You barely look up at him but he still smiles, walking upstairs to his room.

That’s what he finds so endearing about you—you can barely look at him. He always sees you when you stride to his car when yours breaks down, he sees you talk to your friends, peers, teachers; you’re always so confident. But with him—you can barely bring yourself to look at his eyes.

Even after doing it just once.

At first, he thought maybe he did something to make you resentful. He thought marrying your mother so abruptly or causing you to move into his house from your dorm made you dislike him or maybe just the lack of closeness after it happened. The thought chewed at him until he finally asked.

“Did I do anything wrong, sweetheart?”

Your eyes went wide, though you didn’t look at him, your eyes remained trained on your laptop. You didn’t want to look at him when all he was wearing was a flimsy tank top. “N-No.”

“Mhm. I just can’t help but think-”

“No, no, I- I’m sorry I just— Y-you didn’t do anything wrong but,” you were mumbling now “you’re just so much that you’re just intimidating.”

The corner of Mr. Lee’s mouth turned up a little. “Well thank you for being honest, honey. ” he decided to take a leap of faith and kiss your temple. “Daddy appreciates it.” He left the room, smiling to himself at the way your eyes grew wide.

He didn’t do a single thing wrong, apparently. He guessed you were just a little shy.

Which, there was nothing wrong with until that one fateful day where you both kind of got into another entanglement.

Jeno was just about to get in bed when he heard a thud in the kitchen. He would’ve put on a shirt, but he was honestly so out of it that he didn’t think twice about trudging downstairs in only his pajamas.

The house was dark, the kitchen was dark. He could only make out your form trying to jump the counters to reach something on the top shelf.

Jeno thought he was dreaming.

This had to be a wet dream, right? You were staring right at him, and you never do that.

The only thing you were wearing was one of his shirts he’d given you a couple of months ago and panties. Your panties were pink. And frilly. And had a bow on them. He was gonna die.

He blinked. Several times. “Whatcha’ doin’, honey?”

“I- I’m trying to g-get a glass.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why?”

You’ve never been so confused in your entire life. And you couldn’t quite see his eyes too well in the darkness causing you to make direct eye contact with him. You blinked.

“Cause’ I’m thirsty.”

He hummed, walking closer to you and placing his hand on the small of your back. “Well maybe don’t climb on the counters, or else you could get hurt.” He easily reached above you for the glass, lifted you to sit on the counter, then walked to the fridge, pulling out the water.

“And I don’t think you wanna get hurt,” he continued, filling the glass “and I certainly don't want you to get hurt.”

You nodded. Unlike Mr. Lee, you were never quite sure if he likes you the way you like him. That is—until now.

He finished pouring the glass and held it up to your lips, “C’mon, baby.” He looked at you expectantly.

This man was out of his mind.

His eyes never left yours as you drank, smiling just a little saying “Good girl.” when you finished, setting the glass in the sink.

You watched his eyes narrow slightly at the droplet of water on the corner of your mouth, wiping it away with his thumb. You both just stared at each other for a few seconds, maybe taunting each other, daring the other to do something.

Mr. Lee took yet another leap of faith, letting his dick think rather than his brain. Fuck him.

His hand wrapped around the back of your throat, pulling you closer…closer…closer…he was going to hell. He sighed in bliss when his lips touched yours. He’s a hundred and one percent sure he could die like this. Maybe he heard a little protest of “Mr. Lee—” but he was sure it didn’t quite matter because you whimpered against his lips.

Jeno has this in the bag.

You were shocked, taken aback, confused, slightly disoriented. Did Mr. Lee just kiss you, again? Is he kissing you? Yeah—he’s kissing you and you’re still not sure how to kiss back. What you are sure of, however, is you’re making rather lewd noises all over again just because he’s kissing you.

Oh god. He pulled away. You wonder if he thinks you maybe don’t like him for not kissing back. But your thoughts are squashed when he smiles at you, chuckles at you. There’s no way in hell you can look at him now.

“Oh c’mon,” he chuckles, his hand grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He coos. “Why so shy, pretty baby?”

His stare is taunting as your eyes flicker up, back and forth from his right eye to his left eye, trying to decipher what on Earth just happened.

You bite your lip, too afraid to say anything.

“Awe, don’t be so shy, sweetcheeks,” he coos again, shaking your head side to side a bit. “We both know you like kissing your stepdad just a little too much, don’t we, honey?”

You nod your head, slowly. He begins to nod with you, slowly growing to a more confident nod as if he needs to pry it out of you.

“It’s okay though, m’kay? I like kissing you a little too much, too.” He admits. You nod.

You wonder what happens next. You let your thoughts run wild, frankly unsure of the situation. “C-Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Mr. Lee kisses your cheek. “Course’ you can sweetheart.” he grins, letting you off the counter and walking with you to his room.

You get settled in his bed, under his covers. It smells like him. His entire room smells like him.

Your mind wanders again, thinking why you did this, when you’re abruptly pulled out of your thoughts now being roughly pulled by an arm around your waist.

“C’mere,” Mr. Lee groans, quickly pulling you to his side. His hand securely on your waist, you wriggle around, but he doesn’t budge. “What goes on in that pretty head of yours.” He mumbles to no one but himself, you barely heard it.

You hum. Not a single second thought in your brain. And drift off to sleep like it’s nothing.

Jeno doesn’t. He doesn’t drift off to sleep like it’s nothing. He wakes up periodically. It drives him insane.

He wakes up to your ass rubbing against his dick in the night. You don’t move much, but you do squirm and your hand eventually intertwines with his during the night. He’s happy, horny, and sleepy all at once.

It’s 5 a.m. He should really sleep now, but he still can’t.

Instead, he thinks about ways to solve his problem. Jerk off in the bathroom? Find a melatonin pill somewhere? No, he tells himself, all of those require him getting up and leaving you and by the way you’re securely holding his hand, he doesn’t think he can do that too easily. He props himself up on his elbow and just looks at you. You’re so pretty he could cry. He thinks about his options. Until your ass rubs against his dick again, only this time—you whine out.

He thinks too deeply about you. Would you be mad at him if the second time he fucked you was when you were asleep? Maybe.

But maybe not. You roll over on your side, laying on top of him. He’s shocked. You’re straddling him in your sleep. Fuck him—he can really feel your cunt on his dick.

He begged someone in his brain to give you a wet dream.

Luckily for Mr. Lee, you were having a wet dream about none other than him.

Screw it, he told himself. You looked so peaceful sleeping with your cheek resting on his chest. He reached down to the waistband of his pajamas, pulling his dick out, feeling it rise up and slap against your clothed cunt. His hand roamed around your area, hooking his finger with the hemline of your panties and pulling it to the side to reveal your soppy cunt. You were definitely having a wet dream. There was no way you were this wet just by chance alone. He carefully lifted your shirt above your head, placing it on the floor, and sighing in a version of content when he felt his skin against yours.

And, to be fair, he did stick in two of his fingers, just to see how tight you were. You could barely take in two of his fingers, but honestly; he told himself you’d be fine—you were sleeping after all.

He notched himself at your entrance, his eyes hooded with lust before they rolled back into his head, slowly but surely plunging his dick inside. You were wet, tight, warm, in other words—you felt like you fell from heaven just for him.

The moment he’s halfway inside you, he mentally groans. But he then, mentally kicks himself.

“Mr. Lee?”

You woke up.

“...Yes?”

You’re honestly so hazy that you can’t tell what’s real and not real. Did he fuck you or was that just a dream? You’re not really sure, but what you do know is that your panties are soaked, something about you feels full, and you’re looking up at the man in question.

“W-What are you-,” you squint, slightly beginning to laugh at the situation (he learns at that moment he loves your laugh) “y’know I had a dream, a r-really weird dream a-and you were—oh.” Something suddenly thrust inside you, and this something was rather…large, fat, thick.

You know what it is.

It was exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your face melted into sheer pleasure and pain when he forced your hips down to the base of his cock, making you take all of him.

Maybe he should’ve prepared you.

That’s what he gets for thinking with his dick.

His hands are firm on your hips, showing no sign of letting go or allowing your escape. He’s forcing you up and down his cock, breathing heavily as you bite back whimpers.

“You’ll do exactly as I tell you, alright?”

You nod, not feeling the need to question him. After all, he is supposed to be a sort of “father figure” to you, though clearly he’s failed.

“Then stop biting your lip and lemme’ hear you.”

You release your bottom lip from your teeth, letting all your moans; all your whimpers out for him to hear.

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he praises, beginning to move you faster, making you grasp onto his shoulders for support.

You’re tired, but you can’t make this stop; you don’t want this to stop. Especially since he just called himself Daddy. You were going to combust. You’re still not sure how you got to this point, but what you do know is that you’re pretty sure you’re smiling like an idiot; pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Mr. Lee groans in your ear, his hands being the only thing from making you go wild.

There’s one particular thrust when your nails dig into his shoulders. Mr. Lee quickly responded, landing a harsh spank to your ass. “Naughty girl.” he murmured.

You tried everything in your limited power to prevent yourself from showing any sign that you were so close so soon; but you just couldn’t hide it. Not when you were so tightly wrapped around Mr. Lee. He picked up on it immediately.

“Pretty girl’s gonna cum, hm?” he snickers, pounding even harder up into you—you’re sure he’s hitting something deep inside of you when pressure hits you suddenly and Mr. Lee’s breath catches.

“Did you feel that, honey?” he moans right in your ear.

“Mhm.” you nod.

“You know what t-that was?”

You shake your head. “Uh-uh.”

He only chuckles. “It’s what you feel when you’re stuffed all full of your Daddy.”

You whine into his chest, never quite caring that his sweaty skin was against your own—in fact, you could get used to it. What you couldn’t get used to, was the orgasm building up inside you. It was going to be big and questioned if you were going to cry.

“Why don’t you tell me what that dream of yours was about, baby.”

You finally glare up at Mr. Lee while he’s smiling down at you like an idiot, though his brows are slightly furrowed. “C’mon,” he encourages. “Was I in your dream?”

“Y-Yes.”

“W-What,” he had to let out a groan “What was I doin’?”

“I-” you were about to begin, but the feeling of embarrassment and his dick inside of you stopped you. That was—until his hand reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look directly at him.

“Why so shy, honey? Don’t tell me I need to tell you what was goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

You’re about to protest, but you feel like you’re dissolving in his arms. “Such a shy baby.” he mumbles before ramming his cock harder. “I bet…I was fuckin’ you. M-Maybe not like this, but I was fucking you. Exactly how you wanted, huh.”

You’re nodding frantically, you could basically taste your orgasm.

“Tell me the rest or I’ll pull out.”

Mr. Lee himself just threw an ultimatum at you.

You would be mad—if your orgasm hadn’t suddenly hit you.

Since when were ultimatums such a turn on?

You spilled everything. “W-We were on the c-couch and you bent me over the armrest a-and you fucked me, you pulled my hair, and y-you kept calling me your bad little girl a-and…”

“And?” Mr. Lee growled, immediately demanding to know the rest when you suddenly stopped. Unbeknownst to you, he was chasing his own high too.

“A-And you kept spanking me calling me a naughty girl and—Daddy!” your felt hot liquid rushing into you, slowly oozing out of your fluttering walls as Mr. Lee’s pace still never died down.

“Keep. Going.” Jeno was sure the veins in his neck might’ve been popping out just a bit.

You were breathless at this point. “Y-You said fuck…fucking my pussy w-was for w-when I was a good girl.”

He let go of your jaw; watching in enamor as your cheek fell on his heaving chest, panting trying to watch your breath.

Jeno thinks he’s the happiest man in the world.

“I was fucking your…” he trails off, waiting for your answer.

You were too embarrassed for your own good.

He grabbed your jaw again, a little gentler this time. He had this stupid smirk on his face. “Don’t be so shy honey, tell me.”

“...you were fucking my ass.” you said as quietly as humanly possible. But Mr. Lee heard it. And he was chuckling at you, still not daring to pull out of your cunt while he held you close to him in his arms.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” he beamed.

★ Why So Shy? | A “One Way Ticket” work | wc: 2.8k

★ Taglist | @chitaphrrrr @nctdom @shescharlie @marklexleaf @jenos-bbygirl @the-universe-in-you-jjh @shiningdery @aecu @moonlightjaemin @donutswithjaminthemiddle @f4irycoven @meowniee @jenoxygen @yincotton @luvjeongjaehyun @gyyyyyu @sunshinedhyuck @3ranch @pinkynana @dialosthermind @ishireads @icy-thot @fineapplehoe @sbngcha @chaerincl @lookingforangst @skye-is-here @hyuckypjm @airpodbaekuwu @bellamendoza @miyahhhhh @damiien-haas @imrinana @cyclothimikhh @back2jisung @aintdprian @tacojisung @nana-blair @xuxibelle @billboard-singer @yesohhsehun @w0nuuu @lava1004 @kpoplover-19 @allofuswantgwinam @if-i-like-i-reblog @beautywine @anowamij @beautywine

©earth-to-that-asian/mull3ts, 2023

mark sighs and follows you to the living room where your four year old twins are at. “okay, what’s goin’ on?” you walk in the living room with your hands on your hips.

“mommy! minhyun was—!” your youngest says.

“mommy! minjin, he—?!” your oldest shouts over your youngest.

“okay— nuh-uh, we aren’t gonna do this.” you say making a mouth-zipping gesture.

the two grumble and then your oldest shoves your youngest. “wha—? argh!” your youngest shoves your oldest causing him to stumble back and fall on his ass.

“mommy, did you see what he did?!” your oldest whines and points to your youngest who hovers above him.

you gasp when your youngest smacks your oldest. “okay, no— no, that’s enough! mark,” you turn to your husband who watches while laughing. “stop laughing and help me pull these two apart!”

you sighs and attempt to grab your youngest before he can jump on his older brother but your hand slips from his arm and your youngest throws himself onto his eldest. you pull your youngest off your oldest and you sit the screeching boy on the couch.

you go next for your oldest but when you hover above him, he sits up and shoves you.

“ah— minhyun!” you gasp.

“alright, woah, woah. you do not do that, minhyun.” mark marches up to the boy and gentle pushes you to the side. “you do not push or hit your mommy, do you hear me?”

“i’m sorry, daddy.” the boy cries to mark but mark shakes his head. “you need to apologize to your mom, that was very disrespectful of you. i genuinely thought i raised you better than this.”

the sobbing boy turns to you and lifts his arms, you sigh and lift the crying boy up. you balance the boy on your hip and you wipe his tears.

“i—i’m sorry, mommy. i’m really sorry.” the boy hiccups and your heart melts.

“oh, honey.” you kiss his forehead. “it’s okay,” the boy still sniffles and hiccups as more tears fall down his fat cheeks. “now you know to never ever hit mommy, right?”

“mm—mhm,” the boy nods, his body jerking every time he hiccups. you bring your son and you sit him next to his older brother.

you lower yourself onto your ass and you sigh. “now, minjin, can you tell mommy why you’re upset.” your youngest nods, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “i wanted to w—watch paw patrol b—but minhyun said no and then he hit my arm a—and grabbed the control from me.” the boy wipes more tears that spill from his eyes.

you look at your oldest who shrinks with guilt. “and, minhyun, can you tell mommy why you’re upset.” the older one bite his lip and sighs. “i really wanted to watch daniel the tiger but when i told minjin, he said no and grabbed the controller from me!”

“okay, i understand that you both aren’t agreeing on a few things. why don’t we watch a movie that we all like to watch together, yeah?”

the two boys look at each other and nod.

“alright, my loves. can you both apologize to each other and give a hug to one another?” the two nod once again and they slide off the couch, coming together and giving each other a nice hug while apologizing.

“minhyun, what you saw minjin do is something you should never ever do. not to me, not to your dad, not to anyone.” your oldest nods.

“i love you two, very very much.” you say to them and you hug them both very tightly. “my sweet sweet boys.” you whisper, giving them both a kiss on the head.

you pull away and sigh. “now, should we coco, again?” the boys nod and cheer. “alright, looks like we have an agreement! i’ll have daddy put on coco for you two and then we’re gonna go back to making dinner, alright?” the two nod and sit on the couch.

you attempt to stand but the belly weighs you down and does you no justice. “damn it.” you mumble under your breath and then you turn on your side, pushing yourself up from your knees.

“geez, mark.” mark throws his hands up in defense with his mouth open as a shocked expression. “a little help would’ve been appreciated.”

“wha— baby, im sorry.” his voice becomes whiney. “alright, i don’t need another crying child. i’ve dealt with two and i don’t think i wanna make it three.” you go back to washing the veggies that sat in a bowl in the sink.

mark scoffs with a half laugh. “well, a little to late, babe. it’s gonna be three— especially with that baby that i knocked you up with.” mark rubs your belly and you tsk. “oh, shut up!” you shove mark.

“oh, my god.” you put a hand over your mouth. “i know where my sweet angels get their shoving from.. oh, my goodness.” you sigh and rub your temples. “i am a terrible mother.”

mark smacks your ass causing you to whine and jump towards him while holding your freshly smacked ass. “don’t say that ever, again. do you hear me?” you pout and nod. “good,” mark smirks. “i’m sorry.” he giggles and rubs your ass for you.

“gimme a kiss, pretty.” mark says, pouting his lips and wrapping his arm around the back of your head and the other arm around your waist.

you push your lips out and you go to your tip-toes, meeting marks lips and smiling when feeling him smile.

“m’kay, c’mon, let’s make dinner.” mark says patting and squeezing your ass, again.

“…mmhm, baby. and, i just wanna let you know how amazing you handled the situation. i’m so proud of you, mommy.” mark speaks to you softly while fluffing a pillow and stuffing it under your hips.

your mind is too drowsy to understand what he’s even saying, just too busy focusing on your husbands fat cock sliding back into your cunt.

“ahh’mark,” you push your hips back and mark softly giggles at you.

it was currently eleven at night, you and mark had tucked the boys to bed around 9:30 because 8 seemed a bit too early for their energies to run out.

you and mark had a short bubble bath time together but it was ruined by marks dick stabbing your back. mark suffered with blue balls while washing you and himself up before dragging you to the room and pushing you on the bed.

“nuh-uh, pretty. keep your hips down for me, alright?” you nod.

your back arches more when feeling droplets from marks wet hair drip onto your back.

“you’re so good for me, y/n.” mark says, grabbing your hips with one hand and using the other as something to hold himself above you. “so so good.” mark squeezes your hip.

“and, you’re not a bad mommy. i hear you say that again and i’ll edge you until i feel like letting you cum.”

you moan into the pillow tucked under your chin. “m—mark.. i’m gonna cum.” you pant. “already, baby?” mark chuckles and spanks your ass while slowing down his pace. “w—well, you’ve been t—teasing me all night—ngh!”

“mm,” mark bites his lip. “you have a very valid point, baby. but, i’m not sure i wanna let you cum yet.” you scowl, how could he do this? “mark, i’ve pushed two babies out of my vagina, this last one will be my third. if you don’t let me cu—!”

your rant comes to a stop when mark pinches your clit. “mhm, mhm. you were saying, baby?” you shake your head. “y—you’re so mean.” you huff.

“aww, don’t be like that. c’mon, baby, i’ll let’cha cum, go on.” mark says rubbing your clit.

an annoyed whine cranks up your throat and finally your orgasm comes.

“c—cum in me, mark. i wanna f—feel you cum in me.” mark tuts and shakes his head. “aww, baby. i’m not even close to cumming yet.”

you look back at mark with confused eyebrows and pouty lips when mark pulls out. “marrkk, why’d you—?”

mark flips you on your back and smiles widely. “beautiful.” mark bites his lips and reaches forward, his hands instantly grabbing your breasts.

“mark!” you giggle, arms squeezing together, collecting your pooling breasts. “you’re so pretty, you know that, baby?” mark says, tweaking your nipples.

“mark, stop it. just fuck me, please?” mark looks down and smirks. “you’re soaking wet, baby.” mark runs a finger down your slit and clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth and shaking his head.

mark leans forward and takes your left breast into his mouth. “you’re so beautiful.” mark mumbles, swirling his tongue around your harden nipple and moaning softly.

mark pulls away and rubs your nipple. “i wanna fuck your tits, baby.” mark whispers and stares up at you through his lashes. “m—my— you said my titties?” mark nods with a wide smile.

you bite your lip, “well, if you really want to.” you say with a shrug and shy grin. “of course i do, baby. especially with these big’ol milkers.” your eyes almost bulge from their sockets. “milkers?! what?!”

“that’s right, baby. i know they’ll fit perfectly around my dick.” mark cups your breast from underneath and jiggles your breasts with giggles.

“you’re not gonna fuck me anymore?” mark stops with your breasts and thinks. “mm, i got it.” mark climbs off the bed and runs to the closet, he retrieves this nude toned toy and baby oil.

it was a dildo. a vibrating dildo that mark had bought off an ad on pornhub. “remember this old thing?” mark asks you, climbing on the bed and turning on the toy dildo.

“is that—?” you gasp when mark slips the buzzing toy into your cunt. “hold that there for me, baby.”

your legs begin to shake and your moans become shaky.

mark crawls up to your chest and chuckles. “it’s been so long since we’ve done this.” mark says, squeezing some baby oil onto his palms and rubbing his hands together after setting down the bottle.

“say, how long has it been since we last titty-fucked?” mark says, rubbing oil onto your breasts and between the valley of them. “i—i think it was four years ago when i was pregnant with t—geez, i’m cumming!” you let out a shaky gasp.

make giggles and shakes his head. make uses the leftover oil on his hands and holds your breasts together. a whimper slips out of marks throat when he sees how beautiful and glossy your breasts are.

“fuck, i’m so hard.” mark mutters and slips his cock between your breasts. “goodness,” he sighs. “i almost forgot how amazing this felt.”

mark looks behind him and giggles when seeing you desperately attempt to fuck yourself with the vibrating dildo.

“i’m so glad your belly isn’t that big yet otherwise we would’ve had some complications, huh?” mark asks, turning back to you.

you nod and bite your lip while holding back from cumming. “y—ye—yeahhh, that’s gr—great, mark!” you hum violently from the vibration.

mark chuckles at you and shakes his head, continuing to thrust his cock between your breasts.

“amazing, love. you’re doing so well. just sitting here and letting me fuck your tits while you fuck yourself with that plastic dick.” mark scoffs.

“m—mark?” mark hums softly, tilting his head and watching as the tip of his cock disappear and reappear from the top of your breasts. “c—can we c—cum together?”

mark chuckles with a whine. “you’re the cutest, aren’t’cha?” you look up at marks eyes and frown. “please, mark?” you plead.

“alright, alright.” mark laughs, giving in.

a few minutes past and within those few minutes, you’re creaming over the dildo with mark shooting his white ribbons on your face.

mark moans lowly and dips his head back, his hips stuttering as he tries to carry on. “f—fuck, baby. gah!” mark hisses.

mark stands on his knees and smirks when seeing your cum-covered breasts. his cum just dripping from your breasts, down the valley, off your nipples, off your chin and jaw.

mark leans forward and begins licking the cum off your breasts. you moan and grab the back of his head, pulling at his barely short strands.

due to his fresh undercut, it was useless to be pulling on his short hairs.

“mark,” you giggle, lifting your chin when mark moves up to your neck and starts sucking all over. “stop.” you place your hands on marks chest.

“‘m sorry, you just taste so good.” mark gags a bit. “uh, beside that baby oil taste.” he rubs the back of his nape.

you laugh and rub his cheek, “markie,” mark hums and nods his head into your palm. “i want you to fuck me, again. please.” mark smiles widely and nods. “anything for you, baby.”

mark finds himself below you with your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on your hips. marks hips driving into yours while the two of you moan and hiss at the pleasuring sensation.

“you’re such a dirty slut. begging to be fucked in many positions in one night. i love it.” mark says through his gritted teeth.

“markie, i want you to cum in me.” you moan out and you reach forward, grabbing mark by the neck and bringing him down so his stomach his with your bump.

“and, i want you to cum in me, now.” you whispers in his ear.

mark whimpers and humps into you. his hips thrusting desperately forward as he whimpers wildly into your ear.

“‘m gonna put a baby in your belly.” mark groans, grabbing one of your thighs and holding it up against his ribs.

you giggle at him. “markie, i already have a baby in my belly.”

mark groans and shakes his head, suddenly releasing into you without warning. it should’ve been clear when his thrusts started to get sloppy, again.

mark breathes heavily into your neck and pulls away from you. he pulls out and groans, watching as your cunt drips with his cum.

mark looks up at you through his lashes and brings two of his fingers to your pussy, teasing your slit and then slipping them in without a problem.

“m—mark,” you gasp, closing your legs on marks hands. “c’mon, baby. keep’em open for me.” he says softly as he works your gummy walls with his fingers.

mark pulls his fingers away from your cunt and lays flat on his belly. “‘m gonna eat your pretty pussy, alright?” you nod, biting your thumb nail.

mark dives into your cunt and groans, tasting the mixture of your cum and his together. “so sweet.” mark quickly says and dives back in.

“mark.. i’m sensitive.” you whine and gasp while pulling on his long locks. “god, ‘m gonna cum, again.” you cry out and squeeze your thighs around his head.

mark pulls and grips on your thighs while sucking and lapping up your juice. his tongue slurping past your folds.

you go through one last orgasm and finally, mark falls next to you.

he’s all worn out just like you. the two of you breathing heavily. both sweating and sticky.

you whine as mark brings you into his arms. “you’re sweaty.. and sticky.. get away from me.” you heave and mark lets out a laugh. “just wanna cuddle with you, baby.”

*I let out a small moan and nod my head too afraid my voice will give out if i answer but he simply isn't satisfied with my nod*

*he turns me around and grabs my chin* Use your words pretty……

*i look at him* i want you so bad sir i want you to ruin me so bad i can help but think of you all the time

*He smirks and says something that leaves me speechless*

I could tell that you wanted me by the way you moaned my name last night after your parents went to bed i arrived with my luggage hearing your oh so slutty moans of my name*

Follow me darling * he says helping me to the guest bedroom*

* I follow him into the room and he sits me down on the bed and begins to take his white t-shirt off and untie his gray sweatpants*

How bad do you want me baby? * i look at him before removing my damped panties showing him how wet i was * i want you so bad Mr.kim

You can call me doyoung this time, ok love? * i nod at him watching him get on his knees in front of me and spread my legs * i feel his breath against my clit and it makes me clench around nothing* such a dirty girl for me, Love. * he smirks as he begins to slowly lick my clit kissing it ever so gently and licking slowly but intensely*

*I let out soft moans slightly embarrassed and shy* come on love let

‘ me hear you baby i wanna hear how good i make you feel *he tells me grabbing my chin to look at him and lets out a chuckle as i close my eyes to shy to look at him*

The way you act with your friends is so different from the way you act with me all bark but not a single bite *he smiles at me lovingly*

Mr. m- I mean Doyoung please make me cum i wanna be a good girl and cum for you …..

*Doyoung removes his boxers as he begins to line himself up with my wet cunt and holds my hand as he push into me* “ Take a deep breath for me honey~

I nod my head squeezing his hand a little as he fills me up*

He waits a minute or two before asking* Can I move honey? Yes please sir please fuck me sir * i say looking at him in his eyes that were full of not lust but love*

* He then begins his thrusts slow but somewhat harsh and lets out the prettiest whiny groans and he looks at me enjoying my face show signs of pleasure with each thrust i let out whimpers and moans along with a few curses*

Sir please i love it so much please fuck me harder Doyoung* i say in a whine*

*Doyoung smirks at me before going harder and slightly faster with his thrusts*

You love my cock right darling~ * i nod my head but he lightly taps my face* Say it baby Show it baby Prove it baby * he grins at me*

Yes doyoung i love it so much it makes me feel so good * i let out a gasp as he begins to play with my nipples taking one between his fingers and the other in his mouth*

Oh fuck im so close Daddy~ * i say without thinking*

Daddy? * he grins at me * I like that love ..

Please daddy make me cum you fuck me so good * i scream out*

*he speeds up his pace and and i feel the knot in my stomach tighten and i finally cum around his cock*

Daddy shit i'm cumming * i say closing my eyes and i hear him say me too*

I lay next to him after he cleans up our mess and he plays with my hair and kisses me*

Mr. Kim, I love you …. * he smiles at me* i love you too baby~

So am I yours now sir? You're always gonna be my girlfriend, baby.

* i yawn sleepily and close my eyes heading to sleep*

*8pm* * i woke up seeing Doyoung was gone and hearing yelling and curses and i hear my name* oh no!

THE END

You both got out of the bed,you had to technically drag your husband to the dinner table. You both had your dinner and he told you about how his day at work was,how the new project was overwhelming for him and how he was overworking. You listened to him and then told him about your day,talked about random things and laughed together.

Being done with your dinner,you and your husband, Jaehyun washed the dishes together and finally headed back to your shared room. As soon as you got into your bed, jaehyun hovered over you and laid on you,putting his head on your chest again. You chuckled at his adorable behaviour.

He started to bury his face in between your both boobs,he loved that place. He often called it his favourite place.You were stroking his dark black locks gently. Your hand made him feel so good that he out of nowhere groaned in the middle of your boobs,making the vibration run through your veins.

Your facial expression changed in a giffy and your body reacted slightly to it,you moved your body a little and Jaehyun groaned against your skin again before jerking his head up to look into your eyes,"Baby I love your boobs",he said slowly grabbing one of your boobs with his hand and he smirked on your face.

You were not wearing any bra underneath your white oversized tee,he started to mould your both boobs with his big,strong hands. He squeezed your boobs a little too hard which made a small moan spill out of your mouth. It turned him on even more. He again looked into your eyes and bit on the nipple of one of your clothed tits.all while he maintained that nasty,dirty and horny eyecontact with you.

In no time,he lifted up your tee and slid his head under it. Now he had full view of your bare boobs and all he wanted to do was to suck on them till you were a moaning mess and needy for him.

He groped both of your boobs and started to mould them again as well as pinch the nipples from time to time,making you cry out in pain and pleasure. He'd suck on one of your boobs and play with the other one and then again repeat the same thing while sucking your another tit. By this time,you were moaning so seductively that he just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"you know baby,I just wanna suck your boobs and play with them but then you make it all so hard,you make me so hard that I end up fucking you dumb",he said in a low voice. "So,do it, what's stopping you?",you teased him nastily which he took as a cue.

He stood up,"Wish granted baby",he said before yanking your coochies down.

So, now you stood in the middle of a packed party with a red solo cup in hand, and and a stupid bow in the other. Your roommate had insisted in shoving you into her costume from last year, not at all pleased with your idea of reusing your Princess Peach costume.

You scrunched your face up, grossed out by the messy concoction of alcohol the freshman fraternity boy has handed to you. You took another sip, hoping the unpleasant drink would dull the ache of the cheap wings digging into your shoulders.

Your roommate was in the corner of the crowded living room, chatting up one of the older brothers of the fraternity. You knew she would dump you when she got one drink in her system- but you didn’t mind too much. You needed to go out again and remember that you were allowed to have fun.

“Cupid- that’s a cute costume,” a voice behind you manage to say over the blaring music and chatty party goers. The owner of the voice moved in front of you and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“A witch, very original,” you chuckled before tilting your head. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“We had physics together last year, I’m Taeil,” the man reintroduced himself and nodded as you jogged your own memory.

He sat a couple of rows ahead of you in the class, but typically he was always the one answering the professors questions. He was smart, cute, and was always nice enough to help any classmate who asked.

“Ah, so you could ace physics but not think of a better costume?” You taunted, earning a chuckle from him. The music drowned out his laugh, and was really killing your attempt at being buzzed. “Hey, do you wanna go outside?”

The backyard of the frat house was surprisingly well kept. Taeil explained that every week different pledge classes would draw lots for chores in the house, but the freshman were typically the ones who pulled the unlucky straw of cutting the grass.

“You guys definitely rig that against them. Poor freshmen,” you leaned back on the lawn swing you two shared, watching the gentle lights of the party go.

“We don’t! Plus, I usually get stuck doing the cooking,” Taeil defended.

“My roommate usually does the cooking,” you hummed. “Although, I make a mean mac and cheese.”

“A six year old can make a mean mac and cheese,” he teased. You stuck your tongue out in defiance, and you both burst out laughing.

“So, why were you dragged here tonight?” He leaned back in the swing now, his eyes level with yours.

“Hm, my roommate thinks I need to be more social,” it was partially true. In the past two months, unless you were working or in class, you hardly interacted with anyone besides your roommate. Not like you had many friends before your breakup, but you would at least study with different classmates. Now, you refused to do that, preferring to wallow in your own self pity.

“Had a bad breakup?” Taeil guessed, raising an eyebrow.

“No way it’s that obvious,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut in embarrassment.

Taeil shrugged, “his loss. Now, I get to sit with a pretty girl dressed as Cupid.”

You turned your face away from Taeil’s gaze to hide your blush. Even with the silly makeup he had on for his costume, you knew he was handsome and while you may not feel your best, he was with you as if you deserved all the attention in the world.

You had rejoined the rest of the party at some point, smiling and giggling with Taeil as you did so.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Your roommate popped up in front of you, her baseball cap askew. She saw the man to your side and furrowed her eyebrows, “who are you?”

“I’m your ride home tonight,” Taeil half laughed.

“I’m definitely sober enough to drive,” you whined, noting the small stumble in your roommates step.

She slung her arm over her shoulder, and whispered (although, her whisper was still clearly loud enough for Taeil to hear), “I think he just wants to spend more time with you.”

Taeil had dropped you off at your place, and before he walked back to the fraternity house (it was about two blocks away), he made sure to get your number and schedule you for a coffee date the following day.

*****

“I hate when Halloween is on a weekday,” you yawned, firmly holding the large coffee in your hand. Sitting with Taeil at your school’s coffee shop, you noticed a few things. Every two minutes someone new would wave hello to him, and he would always greet them back with their full name. You also noticed how oddly organized he was- the planner he had set on the table that detailed all of his time down to the minute, the tablet that had every class perfectly structured, and his hair was perfectly styled despite the visible exhaustion from the night prior.

"I don't understand how you can still look good despite being up so late," Taeil flirted, his eyes not shifting from the schoolwork before him.

This would become commonplace with Taeil by the third date you two would go on to the bowling alley. Random flirtations mixed in with playful teasing and childish banter. In every way, he was a breathe of fresh air in the pitiful routine you had formed after your breakup, but after he dropped you off at your place after bowling, you realized you two still hadn't even kissed.

"He's just flirting and hasn't even tried anything?" your roommate asked afterwards, not looking up from her psychology homework. You had burst into her room shortly afterwards, arms folded and in distress.

You shook your head, "he didn't even do that cheesy thing where he pretends to help me bowl and is just actually rubbing himself against my back."

"Oh," she frowned, "he sees you as a bro."

You pretended to be okay with him just seeing you as a friend- you had just gotten out of a relationship- but you found it tough to not be bothered by this. You liked being around Taeil beyond the confines of a fraternity Halloween party, but you were beginning to worry about him not feeling the same way.

"Taeil?" you met him after chemistry one day, a routine that became commonplace quickly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you see me as like... just a bro?" you asked, feeling stupid immediately after the words left your mouth. He stopped walking and shot you a confused look you hadn't seen on him before.

You tightened the grip on your backpack, now speaking a mile a minute out of sheer embarrassment, "BecauseMyRoommateSaysThatYouJustSeeMeAsaBroAndThatsFineIfYouDoThatsOkayButIJustWantToBeOnTheSamePage-."

Taeil stopped your word vomit but gently grabbing your face in his hands and dropping a small but affirming kiss against your lips, surprising you before you kissed him back in the now empty university hallway.

"I didn't want to make the first move," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "but, I do want to... potentially...actually explore us as a couple- only if you are."

You giggled, a smile now on your face you swore you lost as you then nodded at the man, "I would like that."

O Sr.Seo me conhecia apenas como uma das ficantes do Donghyuck, já que ele nunca quis me apresentar como sua namorada.

Era engraçado como ele tentava me animar contando piadas bobas e compartilhando algumas histórias da sua vida. Ele até me levou para conhecer a empresa dele.

Em um curto período de tempo me vi muito próxima do Sr. Seo — próxima até demais —, e eu juro que nunca foi a minha intenção me envolver com ele, só acabou acontecendo.

“Sua bucetinha tá me apertando tanto, vai go-” a fala de Johnny foi interrompida por um toque de celular, diminuindo a velocidade das suas estocadas alcançou a cômoda. Com o meu celular em mãos, Johnny arqueou uma das sobrancelhas e deu um sorriso de lado.

“Daddy..”

“Shh, acho que você deveria atender, parece ser importante!” Johnny me mostra a tela do celular e o nome de Donghyuck brilhando me faz arregalar os olhos e negar com a cabeça.

“Boneca, não foi uma pergunta! Você vai atender o telefone e escutar tudo o que ele tem pra te dizer, mas se você não ficar quieta, o Donghyuck vai saber que você tá fodendo com paizinho dele, e eu acho que você não quer isso, certo?”

Com as mãos trêmulas atendi o celular e fiquei quieta “S/N? Faz um tempo que você não me atende, não é? Eu quero pedir desculpas por tudo o que eu te fiz e…”

Johnny levou o indicador para o seus lábios pedindo que eu faça silêncio e voltou a movimentar o quadril.

Mordi os lábios para controlar a minha vontade de gritar de tanto prazer. Por um momento eu me perguntei se Donghyuck conseguia ouvir o barulho dos nossos corpos se chocando, mas ele parecia concentrado demais pedindo desculpas.

Por mais que eu não queira admitir, essa situação é excitante. Johnny parece pensar a mesma coisa, já que não tira o sorriso cínico dos lábios.

Fechei os olhos e não consegui prestar atenção em mais nada, uma sensação familiar se fez presente, mais um orgasmo nessa noite e eu só pude ouvir duas vozes falando antes de apagar:

“S/N? Você tá me escutando?”